by Kayce Kyle
“Care for a cold one?” he asks, after taking a pull from the glass bottle in his hand. Sharla’s inquisitive eyes peek around him, meeting mine.
“Yeah, man.” I scrub my face before letting out a deep and heavy sigh.
“I got it.” Sharla places her hand on my brother’s shoulder before making her way around the bar. She grabs my usual go-to brew and pops the cap, handing it to me. “How’s she doing?”
I take several large gulps before I tell her, “Sleeping now. That was some crazy shit, man.” I take another long pull from my beer. “Damn, she wasn’t lying about her ex. What a piece of work. What kind of man cheats? Especially, when you have a woman like that upstairs?” I point upward to my room.
My brother pats my shoulder. “Welcome to the club of ‘catching feelings’ Blaine. It’s a select group of elite men who were once afraid of being hurt again. I know it’s early on for the two of you, but I have a good feeling about this one,” he tells me as if he’s sharing a hidden treasure and wealth of knowledge with me.
Propping my leg up on the bottom of his barstool, I feel my brow arch as I ask him, “And since when did you become such a master at love and feelings? And when have you ever felt the wrath a woman can leave on your heart?”
“I’d like to know the answer to this one, too,” Sharla inquires, leaning in while resting her elbows on the counter.
Emmit takes a drink from his beer. “I’ve experienced…heartache,” he shyly admits.
“Oh. No. You’re not talking about Bethany from your sophomore year in high school, are you? Come on, Em. That was puppy-love at best. What did it last? All of a month?” I inquire, as the flicker of Sharla’s lighter catches my attention. I watch her light a cigarette while her eyes burn holes through Emmit.
“Two, actually. And so what?” He stands. “It’s true. I really liked her. Until that running back Jason transferred to our school.”
“Oh, please.” Sharla brushes him off with a gesture of her hand before she flicks her ash into the ashtray. “Emmit Wayne Knight that was your first piece of ass.” She glares at him before her eyes soften. “Are you saying that she took your virginity and you caught feelings?”
“If that’s what you wanna call it.” He yanks the cigarette from her fingers, pulling a long drag before blowing out a ring of smoke. “I’m just saying, I really liked her, but the second someone new came along, that bitch dropped me like Jason did the football at our last game. Costing us the championship.”
Sharla puts her smoke out and makes her way around to Emmit. “Aw. If it makes you feel better, I heard he gave her a nasty case of herpes. You dodged a bullet, babe. The way I see it, Jason delivered that little dose of karma and by doing so it allowed us to have this chance. I mean, I’ve gotta be honest, I wouldn’t touch you with someone else’s pussy if you had that shit. See how that works? Those idiots were a blessing.” She rubs his shoulders before leaning around, kissing his cheek.
“Oh, Blaine. Ma’s making dinner tonight. Eight o’clock sharp,” Emmit informs me.
I nod my head. “Yeah, Tara really needs to eat. Wanted her to get a few hours of rest first.”
“Ehem,” Sharla clears her throat. “Speaking of dinner and appetites, I ordered a new pool table. That, um, stain, smackdab in the middle I thought was a bit much for our customers. And since we do serve some bar food, I figured it might not necessarily be up to code, now.” She eyes me.
“Fucking hell, Sharla! How much did that set us back?” I accidentally roar out.
“Ten-thousand. That includes delivery and setup. I thought it was reasonable actually,” she replies, folding her arms over her chest.
“Ten-fucking-thousand-dollars for a pool table? Have you hit your fucking head? Em, did you know about this?” If this shit keeps up, I might start smoking too.
Emmit just shrugs, acknowledging he’s completely unfazed as a grin forms on his face. “That was one expensive fuck.” He belts out a loud chuckle and Sharla laughs alongside him.
“Oh, I see the two new lovebirds have a bag full of jokes. Did you ever think of just calling a company to come out and clean it? Or having the felt replaced?” My knuckles begin to throb from the punch I’d landed earlier, so I begin to flex my hand open and closed. It’s probably throbbing now because of the rapid pace at which the blood is now coursing through my veins.
“Oh chill, Mr. Moneybags. It was so old anyway. It needed to be replaced. Have you told Tara your deep, dark secret yet?” Sharla wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Does she know you’re loaded, too?”
“No. I will when I feel the time is right, and on my own terms. For fuck’s sake. Don’t you have a man of your own to harass?” I hiss out.
“What dark secret?” Tara’s voice booms throughout the bar as she walks down the stairs toward me.
A lump forms and lodges in my throat, but I swallow it down after several tries. Every time I see her, she absolutely takes my breath away. “It’s nothing bad, fancy pants. Ma wants us to come over for dinner. It’s kinda something we do since our father passed away four years ago.” Smooth, Blaine. Mentally, I stroke my own ego for my quick response and ability to dodge that conversation.
She slides her arms around my lower abdomen and leans into my chest as she yawns. “I’m so sorry about your father. There’s still so much we don’t know about one another.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Did you get a decent nap?” I can feel her nod, answering yes into my chest. “Ma only lives about ten minutes from here. If you wanna start getting ready or something, we’ll be leaving here in about forty-five minutes. We really need to get some food in you.”
She pulls her head back and looks up at me from under her long, shiny lashes. “I really need to call one of my personal shoppers and have them deliver me some new clothes. I can’t keep wearing this for the rest of my life around here.”
“The rest of your life, huh? I think I like the sound of that,” I whisper into her ear, and watch her cheeks shade a bright pink. She shields her face back into my chest briefly in an attempt to hide her blushing face. Placing my finger under her chin, I tip her head back upward and kiss her forehead. “This has been the wildest damn near two days of my life, but I can’t honestly say I want it any other way.”
I begin to flex my hand again from the annoying throb that persists. “Let me see.” Tara lifts my swollen hand up. “Looks like someone could use some ibuprofen and an icepack themselves, huh?” She softly presses her lips against the flesh of knuckles and my cock comes alive in my jeans. Fuck, this woman is gonna be the death of me. I could fuck her time and time again and it still wouldn’t feel like enough.
“I’m going to grab my purse and head to the bathroom to freshen up at least.” She rolls up to the tip of her toes and firmly presses her lips against mine. I can feel the low, deep growl escape from my throat. She pulls her head back and smiles at me before letting out a soft giggle. Fucking hell. Every damn thing this woman does turns my world upside down. I want to firmly plant my cock inside her and just live there. “Save that beast for later. I think I’ll be ready for round three by then.” She winks before turning on her heel, as she makes her way to the stairs. I watch her ass as she sways her hips side to side. It’s taking every fiber in my body to restrain myself from following her up those stairs and bending her over my bed right now.
Adjusting my dick in my jeans, I turn around and notice Sharla and Emmit have disappeared. “Yo, Em. Sharla?” I call out as I approach my brother’s room but stop dead in my tracks as I hear the moans and groans coming from his room. My ears. Immediately I plug them with my fingers as I flee in the opposite direction. What’s been heard can never be unheard. Tara meets me at the end of the stairs. “Blaine.” She grabs ahold of my arms and I pull my fingers from my ears. “What are you doing? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I shake my head. “It’s worse.” Her eyes grow wide with curiosity. “Sharla…and my brother. They…” I can’t even finish my sent
ence as I reluctantly look back toward his room. Suddenly, they both come out wrapped in the same sheet and I can take no more, so I tightly close my lids.
Tara begins to laugh, followed by Sharla. “Oh. I’m sorry, Blaine. Have we made you uncomfortable? Didn’t mean for your ears to fall victim of our little lovefest. Or, maybe it’s just karma?” Sharla states as she shrugs and Emmit follows suit before they go into the bathroom and close the door.
I shudder. “Suppose she does have a point, so this should be interesting,” I say, turning to Tara whose hands cover her face. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly she drags her hands down her face. “She…they heard us?”
I nod before I let out a small chuckle. “Who’s laughing now, fancy pants?” I pull her petite frame into me as I lift her up and twirl her around, pulling that elusive smile from her and those rose-colored cheeks.
Chapter Eight
TARA
Dinner was nice and quite informative. I absolutely adore the quaint three bedroom house sitting by its lonesome down a dirt road. It still feels awkward calling Margaret ‘Ma’, but I think I now have a better understanding of why she wants most to call her that. For Margaret, it’s more of a term of endearment. Joe was Blaine and Emmit’s dad. He and Margaret couldn’t have children of their own. Her cousin, Nadine had two small little boys at a young age and their biological father walked out on the three of them. Depressed, Nadine turned to drugs and partying resulting in neglecting her children. Margaret and Joe stepped up and in. Their fight wasn’t a hard one. Nadine easily handed her sons over and ran off with a man much older than her.
Our drive home is short, but the silence between us has me on edge. Things are moving fast with us and I get the impression that Blaine wasn’t necessarily prepared to revisit those memories with me just yet. “Blaine?” I lay my hand across the top of his resting in the front seat of his truck. He glances at me in a show of acknowledgment before facing the open road again. “If there’s anything you want to talk about any time, I’m here.” He casts his eyes back at me and feigns a grin before resting his elbow on the passenger window while his thumb traces his lower lip. “You didn’t judge me, my crazy family, and all the drama that came with them. I’m sorry your mom abandoned you and Emmit.”
He yanks his hand from mine. “That druggie bitch was not our mom!” I jump, startled at his temper. “Our mom is whose house we were just at. That’s the amazing woman that raised us. That other woman just ran off chasing someone like you!” His words leave me puzzled and speechless as he slams his truck into park and gets out, leaving me behind.
He’s right. I worded that wrong. I only wanted to let him know how appreciative I was for him that the same invitation was extended to him. I feel the tears well up as they sting the back of my lids and quickly find freedom, flowing down my cheeks. My phone lights up and I realize it’s ringing, but there’s no sound. It’s Carmen. I click the button on the side to turn my ringer back on.
“Carmen?” I answer through my tears.
“Tara, my sweet girl. I’ve been calling you for the past few hours. I heard the ramblings around here. Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying,” she asks, with heavy concern in her voice.
“I-I thought I was okay. Now, I’m not so sure. I know this sounds crazy, but I thought I’d found something…real. It turns out I might not be able to fly so well after all, Carmen.”
“Has somebody hurt you? Other than these assholes around here? I can leave right now and head toward you,” she offers.
“No. I’ll figure it out. I do miss you so much, though.”
A bright light appears behind me walking toward the truck. It’s a figure with a flashlight. Must be Blaine.
“Carmen? It’s been a long day. Can I call you tomorrow sometime?” I ask, reluctant to hang up with her, but desperately wanting to make things right with Blaine.
The light is approaching quickly.
“Okay, sweet girl. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. Love you,” she finishes.
“Love you, too.”
After ending the call, I hop out of the truck but find myself blinded by the intensity of the light. “Blaine?”
Suddenly I feel something crack against the side of my skull and I become lightheaded as any and all light fades to darkness.
BLAINE
After several minutes, the guilt of my anger toward Tara overcomes my conscience. I’ve seen that she’s capable of defending herself verbally when pushed too far. But, I suppose she didn’t deserve those harsh words that escaped my mouth. My heart aches as I walk outside worried that I’ll find her crying yet again. She’s had a terrible day. Hell, even with all the money she has, she hasn’t had the best life.
As I open the door, the motion detector light is still on. It goes off after two minutes. Rushing to the passenger side of my truck, I notice the door wide open. “Tara?” She’s not in here and her car is gone, too. Fuck! “Tara!” I yell out as I pace around the back of the building and see no sign of her. Approaching the front parking lot, I holler at the top of my lungs as loud as possible, “Tara!”
I drop to my knees and feel my heart hammer against my chest. I don’t fucking cry, but if she’s left, I have nobody to blame but myself and my hurtful words. Retrieving my cell from my back pocket, I call her phone. It begins to ring, and I hear it somewhere behind me. I race back over to where I hear it and find it on the ground under my truck, cracked and nearly shattered. As I look around I notice droplets of blood, so I hang up and call Sheriff Hall. Afterwards, I call my brother and my ma, too.
Everyone arrives at once, but I stop them from driving over any of the blood and direct them to the side of the front parking lot. I’ve already traced as much of this parking lot as I can, and the drops of blood stop suddenly near the entrance. So, someone plotted and planned this. I will destroy them for this shit!
They all rush to me, but I’m only interested in speaking to Sheriff Hall at the moment. “Tell me what we have here, Blaine.” He begins his quest to help me figure out what happened to Tara. He and my dad were great friends and he was always like an uncle to us.
“Look.” I point to the droplets of blood with the flashlight from my phone as I walk and show him the trail leading to the truck.
On his radio he dispatches, “All units. We’ve got a possible kidnapping or…” He stops and looks at me, apologetically and sympathetically. “Could be a possible victim of that bobcat on the loose. Can we get all available units to ‘One Knight Stand’ along with a search and recovery team?”
“A what?” I grab his arms tightly. “You’re kidding me, right? Search and fucking recovery team? No!” He pries my hands free of his arms with help from Emmit. “Sheriff, there’s not near enough blood for this to be that fucking bobcat! Someone has fucking taken her and I’m not gonna just stand around here while they get further and further away with my girl!”
“Blaine, honey,” my ma says, in an attempt to calm me. She runs her hand soothingly up and down my arm. “Try to calm down for just one second.”
“Blaine. I need a description of Tara,” Sheriff Hall informs me, and time stands still in that moment as memories of her body, and face play on loop in my mind. Her laugh. That soft angelic giggle. I can almost hear it. “Blaine!”
I snap my eyes up to him. “Um, yeah. Tara Elizabeth Billings. Five-foot-one. One-hundred-ten pounds. Brunette hair…” My thoughts carry me away again as I speak each one of her traits aloud.
“Good. And her eyes?” he asks, while writing this down.
My heart descends deep into the pit of my stomach when her honey-colored eyes slam into the forefront of my mind. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The only place I wanna be. Home,” I mutter out, my voice cracks and I lower my head in shame and guilt.
“They’re a light brown,” I hear Emmit tell Sheriff Hall.
I look over to my ma before I shift my gaze to Sharla who’s standing idly by holding Jett on her hip. “Ke
ep an eye on Ma, huh? I’m not waiting around here. If Tara somehow shows back up here, call me immediately!” Turning to my brother, I ask, “You coming with me? I’m about to go knock on every door in Rose City until I find her if that’s what it takes.” Emmit nods and we jog to my truck and hop in. “Call Big Boy,” I tell my brother as I peel out the parking lot. “Let him know what’s going on. He still has her information. That boy seems to know and find things he shouldn’t. Tell him I’ll pay him well. I just want her back.” Fuck! I slam my hands against the leather of my steering wheel.
In an instant my brother’s on the phone with Big Boy. From the spying on their conversation while driving, I take it Big Boy already knew from his police scanner. Emmit just answers with the occasional “M-hm’s” and “Got it” before he ends the call. “And? Come on, what’d he say?” I switch my bright lights on as we fly down the open road. I have no idea if I’m going in the right direction, but I can’t just sit around. What if her family has hired someone to do this? To bring her back home? Whoever has my girl will regret this after I firmly wrap my hands around their neck and watch happily while squeezing the life out of it.
“He’s already hacked into something he uses to, well, hack people’s shit. I don’t know, Blaine. I’m electronically challenged. He heard everything from the police scanner and is running a GPS locator on her vehicle. He said give him a few more minutes and he’ll have it,” Emmit says, frustrated.
I feel a subtle sigh of relief fill me inside. Please, please let this work. Let her be okay. This is all my fault and I’d never forgive myself if anything were to happen to her. My phone rings, sending a jolt of adrenaline through my body. It’s Big Boy.
“Talk to me,” I answer.
“Got a location on her car. It’s at Gwendolyn Foster’s house. I know she frequents the bar, so not sure if you know the address or not…” I cut his words off.
