by Seton, Cora
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, honey. See you after work,” she replied. And then she was gone, and I was walking across the park toward the town square. That feeling at the back of my neck was still there, prickling along my skin uncomfortably. I made a show of glancing at my watch and sprinted across the park. I didn’t look back to see if anyone was there. I just ran.
I waved to Henry, the bouncer, at the door, and slipped inside. That shouldn’t have made me so anxious. Brent had taught me better than that. Maybe in the last six years, I’d started to lose my edge. What if he was in a ditch somewhere, bleeding or dying? What if that man I saw was who had done it and now he was coming for me?
My imagination was going a little more wild than I wanted. I couldn’t focus on work if I was imagining ways that people were going to kill Brent. I had to find him.
Chapter Two
Jesse
‡
The thing that tends to happen in my home town is that when you do come home to visit, your social calendar is completely filled by the town. Like they confer amongst each other and compare schedules, and don’t even talk to you before they make plans for you. They might as well have handed the visiting party a piece of paper and tell them where to be. Protests aren’t taken seriously, and most of the time, they’re ignored. Such is life in Sugar Falls.
So, after two days of family and friends occupying my time, I finally got time with Kyle and Jason, my best friends from high school. I was never sure how we’d become friends. Jason Henderson and Kyle Lewis were both football players in high school, baseball players in elementary. I’d never been interested in sports. My entire life had been wanting to go into the military, to get into the SEALs.
I’d spent every last second in the gym, training for entry into BUD/S. Now that I thought back on how solitary my life had been, I was surprised that I’d managed friends at all, much less guys like Kyle and Jason. After the funeral, the gym had become my life, my outlet. It kept me sane. It kept me from breaking into tiny pieces.
“Dude!” Jason punched me in the arm. “Did the military beat your sense of humor out of you, too?”
I blinked. Talking. They’d been talking. And I had zoned. Crap. “Maybe you’re just not funny, douchenozzle.”
“Oh, we got fancy words now, don’t we, Mister SEAL?” Jason nudged me with his elbow.
“Shut up, dude,” I whispered hotly. I didn’t like to advertise I was a SEAL at all. Even though as a member of Thirteen, I suppose I technically wasn’t anymore. But as my team leader, Murphy, was fond of saying, once a SEAL, always a SEAL. And it wasn’t like anyone in this town knew that I was a member of Thirteen anyway. Or that SEAL Team Thirteen had existed at any point in time.
“Tell me honestly,” Jason asked. “How much tail does that get you?”
“Oh, fuck off,” I groaned. “I’m not talking about my sex life with you assholes.”
“Oooh,” Kyle grinned. “That bad?”
“Not everyone chooses to sleep around like you, Kyle.” I glared at both of them, though I knew it would do no good. They would razz me until they were bored.
“You were never into girls in high school either.”
“I was into girls plenty,” I protested. “I just didn’t have time.”
“No,” Jason said. “You stopped when Jane died.”
Jason’s expression was somber, understanding, maybe even a little pity. Fuck it all. I didn’t want understanding or pity. I wanted them to leave me the hell alone. I didn’t want to think about Jane Stephens. Not ever.
“It wasn’t—”
“Yes, it was,” Jason said. “You’re not still hung up on that, are you, Jesse?”
Hung up. That sounded so trivial. Like a childhood crush that wouldn’t go away. But that wasn’t what this was about. This was about responsibility. My responsibility to Jane.
“Okay, so here’s what needs to happen,” Kyle spoke up, breaking the tension coiling through the air. “Jesse here, needs to get laid. So we should find him a girl. Or a guy, if we get desperate.”
“What?” I stared at Kyle. This conversation wasn’t really happening, was it?
“Oh, stop looking like I stole your lollipop. What you need is a girl to treat you like a lollipop.” He sucked in his finger, and made a loud popping noise with his mouth as he pulled his finger out. “Or like I said, a guy if we’re desperate.”
“God, Kyle. Could you be any cruder?”
“Yes, yes I can,” he replied. “But the truth of the matter is that I don’t need to. When’s the last time you had sex?”
I blinked. Sex… I blew out a breath. “That’s none of your business, Kyle.”
Jason laughed. “Oh, shit. It’s been a while, then.”
I pointed and wagged my finger at Jason. “Don’t you start.”
Jason shook his head. “This is bad. Real bad, son. I’m starting to think you’ve never had sex, Jesse.”
“Fuck off. I’ve had sex before.”
“Before?” Kyle’s eyes widened. “Shit. This is bad.”
“Why?”
“Because a guy only says ‘before’ if it’s been so long that guy might not recognize sex when it happens.” Kyle blew out a dramatic breath, like he was trying to remain calm. “Let’s not stress, though.”
“This situation needs to be rectified.” Jason added.
“Absolutely,” Kyle replied.
Jason glanced around the bar, something running through his head like a hamster on a wheel. He was a dangerous man, particularly when he started cooking up plans. Being a cop actually aided Jason in knowing what to do to not get caught.
“You guys need another round?” A feminine voice broke through the ridiculous conversation. I was so grateful for the interruption that I could have kissed her. I glanced up, and a different part of me wanted to kiss her. She looked soft, the bar lights hitting her bronzed skin in smooth waves. Her dark eyes were dark mahogany pool drops. Dark hair laid over her shoulders in large curls.
“Absolutely, sugar,” Kyle grinned at her, almost predatory. I rolled my eyes.
“And what about the new guy?”
I glanced up, realizing she meant me. She smiled, her eyes expectant, but I didn’t get the chance to say anything.
“That’s Jesse. He’s not new. He’s just come home from the military. From San Diego.” Jason extra-enunciated each syllable of “military” which made me want to sink under the bar table. He was not talking me up to the waitress. This was not happening. Because if that was happening, I was going to go put my head through the bar’s wall.
“Is that so?” She studied me for a minute, her eyes narrowing slightly. She pointed her pen at me. “Navy?”
Surprised, I smiled. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“This is Sugar Falls. If it’s military, it’s been here before. I can always pick out the military types. I’m pretty good about guessing the branch, too.”
“What about me?” Kyle asked, not ready to be upstaged or forgotten, in true Kyle fashion.
“Kyle, now you know as well you’d get kicked out of the damn military as fast as they realized you signed the paper.”
Jason dissolved into loud laughter. “Now, shots?”
“Just beer for me,” I told her.
“What kind?”
“Let’s go with… something.” I said. I could have told her what beer if I hadn’t met her eyes just then. It was like electricity snapped taut between us, stealing my breath away. I wasn’t sure how long I’d stared at her, but I’d have guessed it was long enough to be a little creepy about it. I broke contact and swept the room like I hadn’t just been staring. “Surprise me.”
She nodded and walked away. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her. She had this incredible hourglass shape to her. Her hips swayed in perfect rhythm to the music playing overhead.
“What’s her name?” I finally managed to ask.
“Who?”
“The waitress, asshole.”
/>
“Oh, her? That’s Charlie.” Kyle shrugged.
“You’re staring, Romeo.” Jason laughed.
I peeled my eyes back from her, and glared at him. “I’m not staring. Is she new here?”
“Nah. Moved into town about six years ago, I guess. Adopted from the city, I think.”
From the city? Six years? I hadn’t been gone that long. I should have heard something about her from Mom. Mom loved town gossip, but she’d never mentioned Charlie.
“I don’t remember her at all.” And I would have. For sure.
“The Morgans homeschooled her for a few years. You know, to get her up to speed for school.” Jason said. He took on that serious expression he reserved for police work, but it was gone in just a few seconds, replaced by his trademark grin. “Not that you missing anything would be surprising. You were always kind of oblivious.”
I shrugged and leaned back in the chair. Had I been that bad growing up? I’d been singularly focused, for sure. I’d decided I wanted to be a SEAL when I was pretty young, and I’d never looked back. The guys had teased me in school for not dating around, but girls just hadn’t seemed as important to me as being a SEAL.
Charlie moved from table to table, effortlessly flirting and smiling with every one of them before she went to the bar. There was something magical about her. Something I’d have loved to get to know. Not to mention she was seriously just gorgeous.
She grabbed beers from the bar and started making her way across the room again.
“Dude!” A hand waved in front of my face. I grasped the wrist tightly and glared at Jason, who laughed. “I think we have a target, gentlemen.”
“What are you talking about?” I blinked.
“Well, if you’d been listening, you’d know we were talking about getting you a girl.”
I sighed. “You guys… I’m fine. I’m just here for Christmas and then I’m leaving.”
“We know.” Jason grinned. “We ain’t asking you to marry her.”
“Yeah, just have some fun.”
“Fun.” Their idea of fun was different from mine, but I couldn’t deny just how much I wanted “fun” with Charlie. I hadn’t felt that kind of attraction to a girl in years. “I don’t want to get involved with anyone here. I’m just going to be leaving again.”
“You should get with Charlie. She’s not really into relationships either.”
“I don’t know…”
“Where are they gonna go, genius?” Jason asked, irritation laced tightly in his voice. “She lives with her parents.”
“Shit, y’all aren’t trying to hook me up with jail bait, are you?”
“Nah, she’s nineteen. Goes to the university here, so she stays at home,” Kyle replied.
I couldn’t let out that breath of relief fast enough. She had a bit of a young face, but I should have known better. In Texas, you had to be eighteen to work in a bar, anyway.
“What about his house?” Jason asked.
“To my parents’ house?” I scoffed. “So I should just waltz in with her and announce to my mother I’m taking a girl up to my room for a one-night stand? You know, I think I’ll skip that.”
“And if they stay at the B&B, Mrs. Winkle will totally spill the beans all over town,” Kyle added. “That woman has no boundaries.”
“True,” Jason said.
“Hello? I’m sitting right here.” I waved my hands in front of them, breaking the conversation that had wildly been spiraling out of my control. And it stopped just as Charlie reached our table and dropped off two shots and three beers.
One shaped eyebrow rose curiously as she eyed each of us. “You know, if the conversation stops when I get here, that’s generally a clue that you guys are talking about me.” She leaned against the table. “Am I right, or am I paranoid?”
Kyle grinned and leaned toward her, full flirt mode on. “We’re just talking about how gorgeous you are, darlin’.”
“Whatever, Kyle. You’re a full fledged idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I gotta run the trash out, so I’ll be back in a few to check on you, okay?”
She didn’t really wait for an answer, but turned and left the table. I watched her ass the entire way, as it swayed from side to side. God, I really had it bad. Even I could see that, but honestly, I didn’t care.
“Dude, you should go talk to her,” Jason grinned, nodding.
“That’s a bit stalkerish, isn’t it?”
“Nah. It shows interest.”
I wasn’t convinced. Actually, I was terrified. I wasn’t kidding around when I said girls weren’t my thing. I wasn’t a virgin, but I was so inexperienced that I was pretty sure I’d probably pass the fuck out if I tried to flirt with a girl. And here I was, considering following this waitress outside the bar.
“Dude, just try,” Kyle urged. I glanced at my friends, my heart racing with both the idea and terror. I had stood up to all kinds of bad guys: arms dealers, terrorists, and even petty thieves. I’d fought bad guy after bad guy. But apparently talking to a girl that I might like gave me the shakes.
*
Charlene
The trash bag was heavy, filled with the remnants of empty bottles and discarded napkins from inside the bar. Four wait staff tonight and apparently I was the only one who could take the trash out from the bucket everyone used. It was kind of obnoxious, to be honest, but it didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t wait until I finished school so I never have to deal with this crap again. I hated waiting tables, and I hated waiting tables at the bar even more, but this was necessary. I was halfway through my savings goal. By this time next year, I would have enough for my own place.
I swung the bag up and into the metal bin outside in the back. It clanged against the metal bin as it hit the bottom. I wiped my hands off and started back toward the back door of the bar.
Jason and Kyle had brought their friend tonight, and he had surprised me, with his deep, soulful gaze and haunted looks. He was intriguing, a delectable mystery that attracted me like nothing else had. I would’ve loved to take him home and do all kinds of naughty things to him. This was why I needed my own space. So I could bring boys home. Or even a boy. Maybe once I was moved into the apartment next year. Until then, sex was just a dream, one that as long as I was under my parents roof, I would never experience.
“Charlene Morgan?”
Hearing my full name disconcerted me, left me incredibly uncomfortable. I swung around, and found myself face to face with the guy from the park the day before. The bite of the cold air sunk into my skin, forcing goose bumps up all over my arms and on the back of my neck.
“Who are you?” I demanded, swallowing hard.
“Nick Smith. I’m… uh, a business associate of Brent Sanders.”
My heart beat started to race more at the mention of Brent. He’d never introduced me to his business associates, even when I was running cons with him, and with good reason. Most of them were terrifying, and not in a good way. Brent was into a lot of shit. “Sorry, I haven’t seen him in years.”
I turned to go back inside when his hand closed on my forearm. “Miss Morgan, I need to find him.”
Instinctively, I twisted it away and faced him. Anger heated my body, a flush blooming deep within me. “I said, I haven’t seen him.”
“When’s the last time you did see him?”
Eight days, I thought. “A few weeks ago, why?”
“Just need to talk to him.” Somehow I doubted that talking was what this guy wanted to do. No one my father was associated with ever wanted to just talk. It was one reason why Brent was so paranoid.
“Sorry.” I stepped back, testing on whether he planned to grab me again. He didn’t, but he did put his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m going back to work now.”
“Miss Morgan, I’m afraid we’re not done yet.” He moved around me, blocking my way back into the bar. “You see, my dear, it’s very important that I find him.”
My chest heaved up and down collecting fear and disbursin
g it through my body with every step he made. I couldn’t get back in the bar without passing him, and I couldn’t get down the alley with the same problem. He had me cornered. Unless I was willing to scale the building like goddamned Spiderman, I was stuck.
“What do you want?” I asked him, desperately trying to keep my voice level. It came out just a little strained, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Your father owes me quite a bit of money. I haven’t been able to find him and he has you as his beneficiary.”
“I think you’re confused on what beneficiary means,” I replied. “What do you want?”
“Well, we—my client and I—are concerned that Sanders might be… dead.” By the smile on his face, I really didn’t think he was upset with that idea at all.
My heart seized, but I kept still. I didn’t want to think about Brent being dead. He’d never been a role model dad. I’d spent a large part of my childhood with him on one scam or another. But Brent was still my father. He was still the man who had watched over me as a baby. Who’d first taught me not to pickpocket, but to charm someone out of their wallet instead. It wasn’t the best upbringing, but it was mine.
The man brought his hand out of his pocket, his fist closed around something. Then he flicked his wrist and a blade appeared in his hand. I stepped back in a hurry, slamming back against the wall. “Leave me alone.”
“I’d love to, darlin’. But I need my money.”
“I can’t help you. I don’t have it. And I don’t know where Brent is.” I pointed to the blade. “That… isn’t going to change that fact.”
“I think you can get my money for me,” he said, lifting the blade up to the night time light. “Brent Sanders owes me twenty thousand dollars. Since I can’t find him, and I’m pretty sure he’s dead, I’m transferring that debt to you.”
“You can’t do that!”
He moved faster than I’d ever seen anyone ever do that. He shoved me back against the wall, his forearm against my body, the switchblade in his hand angled toward my neck. “Watch me, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’d hate to slice open your pretty throat, but if I see even a hint of you not doing as I say from this point on, I will.”
