Dangerous Bonds

by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  Dangerous Bonds

  by Shani Greene-Dowdell

  Channing’s stone-cold heart is melting.

  Kemara’s warm embrace may be his undoing.

  Copyright © 2017 Shani Greene-Dowdell

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above stated publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  ~STALKERS WANTED~

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  Chapter One

  Kemara

  The universe was conspiring against me. That was the only way to explain the morning I was having. When I got to work, all I wanted was a lukewarm cup of the free coffee in the breakroom, in hopes that the strong blend of mojo would perk me up. However, just as I was about to exit and head to my office to enjoy that coffee, an intern rushed into the room and bumped right into me. Instead of drinking the hot, life-changing fluid, I was wearing it. Perfect.

  I spent the next twenty minutes in the ladies' room trying to rinse the stubborn brown stains out of my chemise, but it was no use. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the shirt wasn’t coming clean. I didn’t have an extra change of clothes and too much work piling up to leave, so I ended up wearing my blazer with nothing underneath but a black sports bra. As I stuck one last safety pin in the top of my blazer to make it look presentable, I took a look in the mirror and sighed.

  I’m still going to make this a good day, some way, somehow.

  Walking out of the bathroom, the itchy material against my skin looked better than it felt. I was immediately struck by an endless barrage of issues upon entering my office and sitting behind my cluttered desk. I dealt with so many clients that I was already five minutes into my lunch hour before I looked at the time on my computer. Dang, it’s lunchtime already? Usually, time wouldn't matter, but I promised to meet Sharon for lunch, and I was going to be late.

  As I drove twenty miles away to Moss Tavern in Lafayette, Alabama, work was still on my mind. I had to follow up with two customers about their insurance claims, and investigate at least ten more before I got around to my regular daily duties. Mulling over the details of what needed to be done, I absentmindedly took a wrong turn, which was going to push me even further behind with meeting Sharon. I hoped my friend would understand that, for some reason, shit was happening that was beyond my control.

  I reached over and took my phone out of my purse to call and let her know I was on the way, when I noticed the screen was black except for the image of a red blinking battery. Damn, damn, damn. I threw the phone down and cursed the universe that helped to land me in this position of wearing a blazer with no shirt underneath, taking a wrong turn and now having a dead cell phone with no charger.

  I laid my foot onto the pedal and flew down 431. As I drove, I looked for a place that I might be able to buy a charger. Up ahead, I saw this dinky old gas station—the kind in 80s horror movies that anyone with an ounce of sense knew to stay away from. But much like the characters in those movies, I was desperate. So, I pulled up to the place and got out of the car. Not two steps later, I felt a squish under my heel. I closed my eyes and took long, deep breaths to keep me from screaming and tearing my hair out and someone dragging me away for my dramatics. I spent five minutes scraping gum off my shoe before I finally headed into the shop. An old man behind the counter tipped his hat at me.

  "Howdy ma'am."

  I gave him a small nod and asked, "Do you have any iPhone chargers?"

  "They're in the back aisle on the top shelf, ma'am."

  Scanning the half empty rows of shelves, I headed to the back of the store. There was a group of white men huddled up in a little rancid lounge area near the back wall. Some were standing to the side chewing tobacco and some were sitting around an ancient, fat-back TV watching Fox News, at least they were until they noticed me. At that point, they all stopped what they were doing and just stared with their faces twisted with looks ranging from shock to displeasure. Now, I was never the type of person to assume someone was a racist, but the way they looked at me suggested I needed to haul my black ass out of there, pronto.

  I turned on my sticky heels and didn't even make it a step forward before I slammed into a broad chest covered by a dirty white tee. My eyes trailed up to his face and my breath caught. Was he with the evil-looking group in the back? Lord, I hoped not. He was positively yummy. His hazel eyes had specks of green. He had a slight grin that would make a girl want to stand on tip-toe and lick his lips, and I would have to stand on tip-toe because even in my heels I had to look up at him. He had such a presence. Even though he was only standing in front of me, it felt like he was all around me, and his body was warm. I could feel the heat rippling off his muscles. It took a moment for me to come to my senses and look away.

  With my face turned, I could feel his eyes still on me. It felt like he was memorizing every curve of my face. Part of me wanted to turn and look at him again, but another part was far too intimidated. I wasn't sure if he wanted to kill me or devour me. Given the grimaces on the faces of his friends, I figured it would be best not to stick around and find out.

  I stepped to the side. "Excuse me," I said trying to get past him.

  He pulled something off a shelf and spoke. I wasn't expecting him to say anything, and I was so dazed that I didn't even get what he said.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "An iPhone charger. That's what you were looking for, right?" His gruff voice rattled through me as he waved the package in front of me.

  As I took it, our hands touched for the briefest of time and it felt magical. I could barely speak. "Yes, thank you." I stammered before quickly retreating to the front of the shop. As I walked away, I could still feel his eyes on me.

  I paid the clerk and headed out the door not daring to look over my shoulder. I got in the car and sat there for far too long. At first, I told myself I was just getting my phone set up on the charger. After that was done, I didn't know how to explain it. I felt like I'd just run miles and couldn't catch my breath.

  He's just a guy, I told myself.

  But I didn't believe that for one minute. There was something about him that made my skin tingle. He was imposingly muscular with a roaring voice that should scare away anyone from his vicinity. Yet, I was smitten at the thought of him helping me out. I shook my head laughing. I was acting like a crazy person. It had to be from a lack of coffee. The result of too much stress on the job, maybe?

  Sure, he was an attractive man. A very attractive man, but my reaction probably had more to do with hunger than desire. Yeah, I needed a tall cup of coffee and some food. That’s what I chalked it up
to, when I put the car into drive and headed for the tavern.

  Chapter Two

  Channing

  When I first saw her, I'd only caught a glimpse of her profile. She was shorter than me, but she was tall with long legs, and man was she curvy in all the right places. She must have been some sort of professional, because she wore a dress suit that was just tight enough and showed off enough skin to make men look twice. And looking twice was exactly what I did. I watched those legs as she click-clacked her way to the back of the store like she had the best treasure hidden between them known to man. Even the sound of the way she walked was sexy.

  I followed her to the back and found the guys glaring at her. I knew how they were, and I knew they could be total dicks sometimes. She was just some nice lady trying to get a phone charger. Something built up inside me, and I kind of wanted to punch them in the face for scowling at her.

  It was the strangest feeling. Usually, I didn’t care y what the hell they said or did to people, but I had the incredible urge to defend her. So much so that without thinking I was on her, standing not even an inch behind her, knowing that if any of them took a step towards her I'd break their legs.

  She turned and slammed right into me. For a moment, she looked up at me and I was lost. I wanted to stroke her cheek. She looked so scared. I wanted to make her feel safe again. I realized she was about to leave without the charger. Of course she was. Why would she stay with those jackasses glowering at her like that?

  I grabbed the charger and handed it to her. She shivered as our hands touched. I wanted to kick their asses for making her feel frightened. Though they hadn't laid a finger on her, I had a good mind to snap their fingers, just for them for being rude. I didn’t even care if they realized the reason was that my emotions were raging on first sight of this black woman whose essence had been as beautiful as the open sky.

  I watched her take the charger up to Otis and pay, her curves swishing from side to side. My mouth slightly curved into an O, as I watched her walk away. After she walked out the front door, I realized something heartbreaking—I'd never see her again. I'd never get a chance to ask her name. I'd never get to caress that smooth, brown skin. Some part of me found the prospect of that completely unacceptable.

  I turned to the guys. "Hey, I have a job I need to head too. I'll catch you guys later."

  "See ya, Channing," Bubba said first.

  “Alight buddy,” Rodger added.

  “Stay out of trouble,” Dirty Neil roared out through his chewing tobacco covered teeth.

  I built houses for a living. My work schedule wasn't set, so it wasn’t unusual for me to have to leave to handle business at different times of day. Work was as good of an excuse as anything else to leave the presence of the guys. And far more acceptable to them than what I was about to do.

  When I headed to my truck, I was surprised to see she hadn't left yet. I hopped in my truck and drove behind the shop and waited for her to start her car. Everything I’d been taught up until that moment should have propelled my vehicle in the opposite direction. However, I let her get a bit of distance in front of me before I started to follow.

  I stayed a few cars back as I trailed her, hoping she wouldn't notice what I was doing. I didn't even know what I was doing. Sure, she was the most beautifully exquisite woman I'd ever seen, but did that mean I needed to stalk her? Clearly, it did.

  What was I going to do next? Just hop out of my car and ask her if she had a boyfriend? And what if she did have a boyfriend? I realized right then if she wasn't single, I'd be heartbroken. What if she was single, but didn’t date whites? I’d be equally heartbroken, then.

  I frowned into the rearview mirror. What the hell was coming over me? Was she really that great to break every oath I’d taken to my family…my race? Yes, she was. I couldn't even say exactly what it was. I was simply drawn to her. Just some part of me wanted to get to know her. Wanted her really bad. She seemed as if she wasn't having a great day. I pictured brightening it. I imagined having the chance to make her smile and it just lifted me.

  After following her for about ten miles, she turned into the parking lot for Moss Tavern. I kept driving. Now, I knew where she hung out. I had figured out how I would see her again. I'd go there time and time again until I bumped into her. If it took a week or a year, sooner or later I'd see her gorgeous face again, and I'd strike up a conversation. After that, I'd ask her out. That little bit of reprieve in my mind had me willing to leave and not look back. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

  Chapter Three

  Kemara

  I headed into the tavern and found Sharon in a corner booth. She glared at me as I approached, but not as harshly as the men from earlier. "My lunch break ended ten minutes ago, I'm going to have to stay after work now."

  "I'm so sorry, sis. I tried to call you, but then my phone died. I cannot believe the day I've been having." I plopped down across from her in the booth.

  She quickly went from anger to concern. "You look exhausted. Are you okay?"

  I sat down and rubbed my temples. "I'm fine. Like I said, it's been a long day. Did you eat already?"

  Sharon shook her head. "No. I was determined to wait for you."

  I smiled, more for her sake than my own. I didn't want her to worry about me. "Let's order then."

  We both had buffalo wings, and I had a cup of coffee with Baileys Irish Cream afterwards to make up for my horrendous day. I didn't usually drink at lunch. That day was an exception in every way. I was barely half a cup in before I brought up the guy I'd seen at the gas station. "Hey, you live around here, right?”

  “Uh…Yeah, why?”

  “There’s a rinkey gas station about ten miles back down 431. Have you ever gone in there?"

  Sharon took a sip from her martini, refusing to be outdone by me. "I think I know what you're talking about. I try to stay away from that area. There are stories about people that come up missing in that part of the woods.”

  “What do you mean, missing?” I asked as I thought about the big, burly white man who leaned over with a toothpick in his mouth and looked at me like he would eat me for a snack.

  “It’s just an old folk tale, but I’m scary as shit, so I just avoid going that way,” she laughed. “Why do you ask about that gas station?"

  "Oh, no reason. I wanted to call you earlier to let you know I was running late, but when my phone died I had to buy a charger and I went in there."

  Sharon arched an eyebrow. "Ahhh…I was wondering why you hadn't called. Wow, you've been through some of everything today."

  "You have no idea."

  "So, what happened at the gas station? Did one of those toothless assholes catcall you or something?"

  I laughed. "No, it was nothing like that. I ran into this guy. And, I do mean literally ran into him. He’s a white guy, in his mid-twenties, hazel eyes, a beard, I think it's called a chin strap. He was wearing a plain tee and jeans and a blue baseball cap. Looked like he’d been working in a ditch, because he was dirty. I was wondering if you knew who he was?"

  "Considering you looked long enough to describe him to a police sketch artist maybe you should’ve asked his name."

  I sighed.

  Maybe I should have.

  Except, I couldn't have. Not in front of all those guys who were staring me down. I had to get out of there. If I stayed, there was no telling what might have happened.

  What if I never saw him again? I hated that prospect. I could come up with another reason to go into the shop, but did I really want to do that?

  I took another sip of my drink. “Yeah, maybe I should have asked.”

  I let it go at that. We finished our lunch, while catching up on each other’s week. It wasn’t long before Sharon had to leave, so she could get back to work. I left as well, deciding to ride back by the gas station in hopes of seeing Mr. Hazel Eyes.

  However, when I drove back to the gas station, I didn’t really know what I was looking for. After all, this man prob
ably didn’t even like me and, if he saw me, he would most likely consider me a stalker. Who the hell wants to meet a stalker? So, after just thirty seconds of staring up at the gas station, I pulled out of the parking spot and tore away from the rough area. I needed to get my mind off him, because a strange man wasn’t worth getting all flustered over. No matter how hot he was.

  Chapter Four

  Channing

  Seventeen. That's how many days in a row I showed up to Moss Tavern wishing, hoping and waiting. Every single one of those days I silently kicked myself for not following her out to her car and asking for her number then and there. I didn’t want the guys to see me going after a black woman. It went against everything I was brought up to believe. However, not being able to find her again seemed like a fitting punishment for my cowardice.

  Then, on day seventeen, the most amazing thing happened. She walked through the door. At first, I didn't even realize she'd entered. I had given up hope of seeing her again, and my daily lunches at the tavern had simply become a ritual. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me, which made me look up. My gaze landed on her big brown eyes and she smiled before looking over at a back booth and heading to it. Just like the last time, she wore a suit, which made me think she was on her lunch break. This time, her dark curls rested on her shoulders when the last time her hair was up and in a bun. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through her thick hair. I hoped I'd get the opportunity to find out.

  In the booth was another regular, a blonde who had lunch at the tavern Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I held back a laugh. I'd seen this woman time and time again as I waited for her friend. If only I'd known I could have simply asked for her friend's number, or had her pass mine on. The irony of how close I'd been this entire time wasn't lost on me. And to think, I thought I'd never see her again.

  When she reached the table, she must have said something about me. Her friend looked directly at me while asking, "Who, him?"