Predator Patrol (Mars Cannon Novel #2)

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Predator Patrol (Mars Cannon Novel #2) Page 4

by Nicolette Pierce


  “It’s fine. That’s what they’re made for.”

  He dug into the pizza and extracted a piece for each of us.

  I bit into the gooey slice and moaned from the explosion of flavors. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning’s leftovers and my taste buds were in ecstasy.

  Evan chewed on a piece and watched. “What’s going on? Not that I don’t enjoy watching you eat, but you seem to be enjoying the pizza a little too much. I’m starting to get jealous.”

  A shy smile escaped. “Sorry. I’m loving this pizza. I’ve never tasted one like this before.”

  “It’s a decent pizza but nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Then I must be hungry.”

  His eyes narrowed and I knew he was on to me. “Eat your pizza. We’ll talk about this later.”

  "We don't need to talk about it."

  "We're going to talk."

  Where did that come from? It’d be natural for those words to come from Brett, but Evan was relaxed and carefree. He was full of devastating smiles and one-liners.

  I bit into the pizza, squelching my loud taste buds. We ate in silence. I could see Evan contemplating a thought. There was something going on and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like the outcome. I bristled. He’s only here to study and nothing more.

  I finished my slice and stood to leave. “I’m going to shower. I’m sure you have studying to do.”

  “Sit and eat another slice.”

  “I just ate one. I’m on a diet,” I lied.

  “Just eat another slice for me.” His eyes were soft and sincere, but his lips were firm and told me he was still contemplating.

  I sank back in my seat and nibbled another slice. Evan twisted off a cap and handed me a beer. I’m not normally a beer fan. However, it’s acceptable on a hot night eating pizza.

  “You already know I’ve been working and going to school the last couple of months. What have you been up to since I saw you last?” He asked.

  “Mainly looking for a job. The last couple of days I’ve helped Predator Patrol. It’s Mrs. J.’s newest craze.”

  “What is it?”

  “We search the internet for predators that are looking for their next victim. We each have a fake identity and pretend to be kids. It’s a lot of playing games and learning kid lingo. Mrs. J. heard about community groups who have taken down several local predators. Appleton has had a few.”

  “That’s amazing. I’d wish you luck; but I’m not sure I want you to find a predator. Sounds dangerous and creepy.”

  “According to Mrs. J. we contact the police as soon as one is discovered. Exposure to the predator would be minimal to none. Believe me, I have no wish to meet a predator.”

  “So the women at Mrs. J.’s house are all part of Predator Patrol?”

  “Yes. I see your lips twitching. Stop laughing.”

  “I was wondering why everyone was wearing a PP baseball cap.”

  I smirked. “Edna’s not happy about it. Her love interest thought it was for an incontinence medication.”

  Evan chuckled. His eyes sparkled like blue diamonds.

  “I’ll tell Mrs. J. you’re interested in joining the group,” I threatened.

  “Maybe during break. It might be a fun diversion to see the ladies working hard. Right now I’m swamped.”

  “Then get to work. I have to shower.”

  He glanced at my plate to make sure I ate my slice.

  “What’s with you checking my plate like I’m a naughty kid trying to hide my broccoli?”

  “I’ve been broke before too. It’s the hazard of being a student.”

  “You’re an EMT. At least you have a paycheck.”

  “All my money goes to school and bills. I’m finishing up pre-med then heading to medical school. That’s like a decade of my annual salary. I’ll eventually have to give up my EMT job.”

  “Are you picking a specialty?”

  “Yes.”

  I waited for him to say but he fell silent. “Well? Do I have to guess or are you going to tell me?”

  “It’s not a big secret, but I haven’t told anyone.”

  “Not even your parents?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that they wouldn’t approve, but it’s personal.”

  “Ah. Gynecology.”

  “How in the world did you assume gynecology by me saying it’s personal?”

  “I don’t know everything about you, but I do know you like women . . . a lot.”

  “I like women, and I want to keep it that way. If I had to look at girl parts all day, I sure the heck wouldn’t be chasing after them by the end of the day. I’d be rather tired of them. Maybe not the first week.” He smiled. “I just don’t want women to get the wrong idea and start chasing me.”

  “It’s too late. They chase you as soon as they see you. So, what’s the secret?”

  He smirked. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

  “If we kiss, I don’t want to be blackmailed.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’re not budging on this, are you?” I asked.

  “Why should I? You want information and I want a kiss. Just one harmless kiss.” His lips spoke of an innocent kiss; his eyes told a different story.

  Evan West was back in full force. This was the Evan I remembered; the one that thought of sex before anything else. A kiss might be innocent enough but would open the gates for other activities. Activities I wouldn’t mind at all, though I still wanted to remain Evan’s friend. That meant no kissing and no activities.

  “I’ll pass. Do your homework.” I turned and jogged upstairs to take a shower.

  By the time I returned, Evan was buried deep in books. His eyes pinched together as he read a four-inch thick book with small font.

  I tiptoed past not wanting to disturb his concentration. His arm reached out, wrapping around my waist and capturing me before I could reach the kitchen. My eyes widened as I fell on his lap.

  “Well, this is cozy.”

  “This isn’t cozy.” I struggled to stand.

  “You probably shouldn’t squirm.”

  “Why not? Oh!”

  He chuckled. “I told you not to squirm. Now what am I to do?”

  “You could let me go.”

  “Six years of this, Mars. Our attraction, flirting, and smiles. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “Yes,” I agreed, overcome by our predicament.

  “Then why shouldn’t we have fun? You know how much I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you.”

  “Then you'd leave like you always do. We’ve had this conversation before. I’d rather have you as a friend than to have fun and lose you.”

  “I’ve never been friends with a girl before I met you. Perhaps you’d be the one that changes me.”

  My throat dried. The thought was intriguing. To be the one that makes Evan lose all interest in other girls. It’s not possible.

  “It all begins with one kiss,” he whispered. His eyes captured mine as his lips hovered close. All I had to do was tilt my head an inch and I could kiss him.

  If I kissed him, it might answer some lingering questions. It would also create more. He wouldn’t walk away from one kiss. I couldn’t stop at one kiss.

  “I won’t let you break my heart,” I blurted the words before I knew I was going to say them. Crap! We were talking about a kiss not love.

  It was as if I dumped ice water on us. Evan stood me up and returned his attention to his book. I stood for a brief moment wondering what happened. How could I have blundered so horribly?

  “I’ll leave you to study,” I mumbled, turning towards the stairs though it was a little early to go to bed. “Stay as long as you want.”

  He nodded with averted eyes. I detected his jaw muscle twitch.

  I slipped in bed and stared at the darkening ceiling, replaying my blundering words over and over again. How could I be such an idiot? He offers a kiss and I tell him not to break my heart. If anything the kiss would put
me on guard knowing I was a step away from never seeing him again. It wouldn’t break me.

  Idiot!

  My mind drifted to Dr. Evan West. I wondered what his medical degree would be and why he was secretive. If it was something he didn’t want people to know then maybe it was in a controversial field. What would be a controversial field? Nothing came to mind.

  Perhaps I should go to school for nursing. I could be his nurse. His naughty nurse. Damn, he’ll have tons of nurses streaming the halls in his wake, ready to give him a helping hand or tussle in the supply closet.

  Ugh! This wasn’t helping. I squashed the pillow to my face. Evan was downstairs and mad. I was upstairs and confused. Lost. Lonely. Broke. Inadequate. Not sleepy.

  Forget him. Forget all men.

  It was two o’clock when I heard the chair scrape against the floor. I listened to his book snap shut and stuffed in a backpack. His solid footsteps. The front door opened and closed. A car engine turned and raced down the road.

  Alone again.

  I steeled my nerves, puffed out my chest, and held my head high as I walked into The Road Hog Bar. They were looking to hire a bartender, and I was determined to be that person.

  I swung open the door with more muscle than I knew I had. After a moment’s pause, I resumed my path to the bar. Eyes followed me. The few patrons were hardened men and fast women. They all looked like they could use a bath, shave, and a change of clothing.

  These were my customers now, I reminded myself. However scruffy they might be, they’re my paycheck.

  I flagged down the bartender who took his time responding. He was in the range of “old man” though I couldn’t put a figure on it. He looked as though he lived a rough life so he might be fifty and looked twenty years older for all I knew. He was gruff, rugged, and could use a bath too.

  “I want to apply for the bartending job.”

  His skeptical eye judged me. His bushy eyebrows pinched together. “Go home, kid. This place isn’t for you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Look around; then look in the mirror.”

  “I’ve looked around. I see a place needing attention. I see a place that could use a good scrub down.”

  “Let me stop you there. We don’t want attention or a good scrub down. Although Bob down there smells a bit off. What I need is a bartender who knows what they’re doing and can keep the place in check.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What would you do if there was a bar fight?”

  “Call the cops.”

  “The cops would be here every week if I called them for every incident. By the time they’d arrive my bar would be trashed. You have to stop the fight quickly before anyone gets hurt.”

  “I’m sure I could come up with something. I’m very resourceful.”

  He shook his head. “I tried hiring a cute look’n woman before, thinking it’d attract men and keep them at the bar. The first fight she was crying under the tapper and I was out money for bar repair.”

  “What if you took me on for a week? Think of it as an apprenticeship. If I can make it a whole week, you hire me.”

  I never fought this hard for a job. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just walk out the door and thank the heavens he didn’t want me.

  His thumb grazed across his coarse stubble. “Go home. It’s for your own good.” He turned his back as he headed down the bar towards Bob.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, old man,” I said and strolled out the door.

  I’d be back tomorrow. This job is mine. I’m tired of defeat. I’m tired of men walking away. It’s my turn to call the shots!

  Chapter 5

  “Tell me about last night,” Kym demanded as the ladies surrounded with inquisitive eyes. “Did Evan stay late?”

  “He stayed until two.” I pushed the computer power button. It groaned.

  “Did anything interesting happen?” Ida asked.

  “Nothing. I went to bed early so he could study.”

  “How did you know he left at two?” Kym asked.

  “Could you sleep if Evan was in your house? I was wide awake when he left.”

  “He didn’t try anything at all?” Mrs. Janowski asked.

  “He might have wanted a kiss.”

  “Might have?” Kym arched her brow. “Girls, I think we’ve uncovered a serious case of jitterbugs.”

  “I found those in a hotel bed once. I nearly fainted,” Edna said as her knitting needles twirled.

  “Those were bedbugs, not jitterbugs!” Sylvia exclaimed.

  “Is the jitterbug a dance?”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, you derailed us again,” Mrs. Janowski said. “Now pipe down so Mars can tell us the whole story.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. Evan showed up with pizza and beer. We ate and then he studied. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “What about the kiss?”

  “I wanted to know what specialty he was going to study. He said it was personal and he’d only tell me for a kiss.”

  “And you didn’t kiss him?” Kym pouted.

  “I bet its gynecology,” Ida said. The girls nodded in agreement.

  “I already guessed gynecology and he said no. He wants to remain a fan of girl parts.”

  “That makes sense. You’d see one hell of a lot of parts. Thin, fat, young, old, wrinkly, pierced, used, smelly . . .”

  “Ida! I think that’s enough,” Edna squeaked.

  “I’m just saying it’s not all young and pretty.”

  Parents suck!

  “Oh, look! Aaron is online. I hate to end this conversation, but I have work to do,” I said, avoiding eye contact.

  At some point everyone sucks.

  W2PG

  What game?

  Something mindless.

  Sounds perfect.

  I concentrated on firing berries into a bear’s mouth to fill his belly. Salmons were double points and picnic baskets were triple. We chatted between rounds.

  Isn’t there any game ur good at?

  Probably not.

  Do u have problems with ur parents?

  Always.

  I eyed the ladies. Edna tisked at the computer. Sylvia bickered with Ida. Mrs. Janowski pounded her fingers on her keyboard.

  I have a few old bats that give me a hard time.

  Do they ask u 2 do stuff u don’t want 2 do?

  Always.

  Another round?

  I’ll beat u this time.

  LOL! U can try.

  I didn’t know if Evan would show up tonight or not. We left things awkward.

  I played with my digital antenna to find a television signal. Nothing was coming in. I placed it in strategic locations, turned the gizmos, and even held it above my head while hopping on one foot. Nothing.

  Footsteps fell onto the front porch followed by a soft knock.

  Evan.

  “It’s open,” I hollered.

  Evan peeked in. “Hi,” was the noncommittal greeting.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to watch TV.”

  “It looks more like acrobatics.”

  “I can’t find a signal. I’m wondering if the antenna is broken.”

  “Do you want help?”

  “Sure. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

  He dropped his bag on the floor and crossed the room. I handed him the antenna.

  “Did you have to cancel your cable?” He asked.

  “I cancelled everything I could.”

  “What if I give you money for renting your kitchen table? I can’t study at home and it’s nice studying here.”

  A strained chuckle burst from my lips. “Yeah, because we got off to such a great start last night.”

  His eyes found mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask so much from our friendship. I know I have a bad reputation.”

  I sighed. “You do have a bad reputation, but I shouldn’t have overreacted to a simple kiss.”

  He smirke
d. “Nothing would’ve been simple about that kiss.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “There,” he said, placing the antenna to the side of the TV. “You should be able to receive a few stations at least.”

  “How did you fix it?”

  “The wire was loose. Are you going to take me up on my offer?”

  “What offer?” I asked, flipping through all four channels.

  “The offer for renting your kitchen table? It’ll give you some income and me a place to study.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want your money. You’re welcome to study here anytime. Just bring food.”

  I could tell he was contemplating again but didn’t relay his thoughts. His glacier eyes were icy and unyielding.

  “Seriously, I don’t need your money. I found a job today,” I said.

  His eyes thawed into a sparkle. “That’s great. Where do you work?”

  “Well, I didn’t get the job yet. But I will tomorrow.”

  He collected his backpack from the ground and settled at the table. “I don’t understand.”

  “He said I couldn’t handle the job. I’m going back there tomorrow and proving I can.”

  “I have a ton of questions now. What company? What job? Why can’t you handle it?”

  “Don’t worry. I can handle anything. I'll get the job.”

  “It must be a good job if you’re willing to fight for it.”

  “Not at all. It’s a horrible job. What’s for dinner?”

  Dinner with Evan went smoother than it did the previous night. There were times when hands or legs brushed against each other but there wasn’t talk of kisses or the gray area where our friendship begins and ends. We were friends again and that’s all that mattered.

  I snuck upstairs to read so he could study in peace. I heard his phone ring and chirp several times; he didn’t answer. I wondered who was calling him and why he wasn’t picking up. What girl was he dodging this time?

  Now, as the morning sun filtered through my shades, I didn’t wonder about Evan or his overactive phone. I braced myself to fight for a job I didn’t want. What’s the old saying? Desperate times call for desperate measures. I think it applies to my situation.

 

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