My stomach clenched tight. There was a brief moment I had forgotten about predators and police.
"You get ready first," he mumbled.
I turned to see his morning stubble and bedhead hair; he was still gorgeous. With his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted, he looked like a rugged angel . . . if there was such a thing.
I leaned over to kiss him. I didn't want him to pass out from my horrid morning breath, so I kissed him on the forehead. His arms circled like a whip and pressed me to him.
"Did you sleep well?" He asked.
I nodded, allowing me to keep my dragon breath to myself.
"I told you you'd fall asleep. Tonight will be different. Very different. It was the only thought keeping me from waking you," he admitted with a lazy smile. He rolled over, pinning me underneath. His lips pressed into my neck, rousing me from sleepiness.
"Evan . . ."
His mouth traveled down my neck, further and further. My top’s strap was brushed aside as his lips kissed and played.
"Evan, we should get ready," I struggled to say.
"One more minute," he promised as his hands caressed. "Think of it as a sneak peek for tonight."
Before I could say anything, his lips were on the move. This time, they found what they were looking for. My back arched as he teased.
"This is sooo not fair," I moaned.
One last nip and he moved to kiss me on the chin. "It's fair. Now you can be in the same state I'll be for the entire day. I can barely wait, sugar. You've always affected me. Now that I know I'm so close to having you, it's beyond torture." He encircled me briefly before letting go. "Get ready before I make us late."
I struggled out of bed and into the bathroom. My skin still sensitive from his touch. This was going to be the longest day.
I sat on a park bench waiting for Aaron . . . or Grub. Whoever Aaron was, I'd find out in a few minutes. I sat as though I was patiently waiting for a friend. My insides were knotted and clenched; clenched so tight the pain was making the few bites of breakfast Mrs. Janowski forced down my throat turn on me. If the wires adhered to me could pick up stomach sounds, I'm sure the receiver had an earful.
Everything happened so fast when I arrived at Mrs. Janowski's, I reflected. We barely had time to form a plan before we were on the move. Thankfully, the police were ready. They were stationed less than a block away in a painter's van. Hopefully Aaron wouldn't question why a painter's van was near the park.
I knew several plain clothed officers were watching. I only had visual on one. Since it was still early, they thought it’d seem odd if several people were hanging out in the park and could spook Aaron. Mrs. Janowski was near the water tossing stale bread at a leaf due to an unfortunate lack of ducks.
I inspected my nails casually. A shuffling behind me sent spikes up my spine. I turned to find a boy around eleven or twelve years old. He looked like an average boy who only had time, or inclination, for one pass with the hair brush through his moppy brown hair. His eyes were blue, but somehow lacking in brightness. His stained clothes hung loosely. No, this wasn't an average boy. Something was wrong.
"Mars?" He rasped. His voice brittle and strained.
Chapter 13
"Aaron?"
He nodded. I jumped from the bench to hug him. Somehow it felt right for both of us. I’ve never had maternal instincts. Even brief moments with friend's children had me wondering what alien planet the little humanoids were from. But this was right. I found a connection with Aaron, and he was hurting.
"Aaron, I was so worried you were someone else. Sit down and tell me what's wrong. Tell me how I can help you?"
As I led him to the bench, I noticed his dry, cracked hands. Not something typically seen with humid summers. Is that a bruise on his arm?
He restlessly perched on the bench as if ready to bolt. His eyes darted. "We should go." His voice cracked.
"Go where? Why?" I offered him my water bottle. When he shook his head, I pressed it into his hand.
"We're in the open. I shouldn’t have come. I need to leave."
"Hang on," I said, touching his arm to keep him settled. He flinched. "I really want to help. Tell me what's going on. Is there something wrong at home?"
A half-hearted laugh was all he gave.
"I'll take that as a yes." I grasped for comforting words . . . any words. "Do you want to speak to the police or maybe a school counselor?"
His fearful eyes widened.
"Okay!" I said quickly to calm him. "No outside help. Let’s start simple. You know my name is Mars; is Aaron your real name?"
"Yes."
"What's your last name?"
He shook his head.
"Playing the mysterious card, huh? Girls like that."
A shy smile appeared.
"How about we play a quick game?" I offered.
His eyes brightened but he shook his head. "We should go. It's not safe."
"We're in a public park in full view of everyone. What could happen? What if we play one quick game and then move to a different spot?"
This seemed to appease him since he said, "You know I always win."
"Just try to beat me this time. I'm the king of hangman." I took out my phone and started the game.
"What century is that from?" He asked, pointing to my phone.
"It's from this century, tech snob," I teased.
As we took turns picking letters, the walls around him crumbled. As I picked horrible letters, he laughed.
"The word is happenstance," he said. "You lose again."
"How does a seven year old know a word like happenstance?"
"I'm eleven," he exasperated.
Now I know his name is Aaron and he's eleven. Not bad for an amateur, I thought with an undercover smile.
"We should really move," he urged.
"All right," I agreed knowing the police wouldn't approve. Though, it's a boy and not the predator we thought. "Where do you want to go?"
"Can I stay at your house?"
"I can't let a minor stay with me without parental approval. I'd be in serious trouble with the police," I explained gently.
"That's not a problem. I don't have parents."
"What about a guardian? Where are you staying? I can ask for permission if you want."
He abruptly stood. "No! Don't talk to him."
"Okay," I agreed to calm him.
"You don't understand. He'll hurt you." Aaron shook with anger.
"Does he hurt you?" I asked, praying the answer was no.
"I have to go." He stood and fled from the park.
I chased him, calling for him to stop. A charley horse halted me in my tracks, I lost sight of him. I wouldn't have caught him either way. He was too quick.
"Dammit!" I cursed, falling into the grass clutching my leg. "Oww! Where are the damn cops?"
Footsteps caught up to me. Evan knelt in the grass beside me. "Charley horse, huh?"
"It hurts so bad," I whimpered, clutching my leg.
"Flex your foot and push through your heel. It sometimes relieves the tension."
I followed his suggestion. Tension eased from my leg though the tenderness remained.
"Did you see where he went?" I asked T who arrived shortly after Evan.
"No, but we know where he was originally located. Now that we know Aaron's in trouble, the police can act. Grub is a wanted predator with a child, that’s not a relative, living with him. There's no gray area; it's wrong. I’ll stay on top of it. If the police’s hands are tied, mine will be free."
I nodded. With T working outside the police department restrictions, we might discover the answers. "Text me every hour with an update or sooner if you know something."
"I'll text you with any info I come up with but not every hour. Only wives can make that demand," he said with a grin. "Watch her. She might turn into an old ball and chain," he whispered quite loudly to Evan.
"I heard that!"
He chuckled and jogged to the police v
an.
"Hey, lovebirds," Mrs. Janowski called from her car. "Hop in. The PP's are regrouping at my house."
Evan helped pry me off the ground and assisted as I hobbled to the car.
"Dang, Mars. I think you might need to take the Zumba class at the senior center. It'll whip you in shape," Mrs. Janowski said.
"Thank you," I muttered, sliding into the car.
"Ladies!" Mrs. Janowski hollered above the chattering PPs "You're forgetting we have T working for us."
"If Aaron was able to find Mars, don't you think Grub will find her too?" Sylvia asked. "He might be on the hunt already."
"Oh, dear! We've really made a mess of things," Edna said, twirling her knitting needles in a storm of yarn. "Should we go into one of those witness protection things? You know, hide out? It’s too bad. I was bumped up on the waiting list at Summer Acres. You know their food is actually hot and they have a cappuccino maker. I'd hate to lose my spot, but it beats being dead."
Mrs. Janowski rolled her eyes. "We haven't witnessed anything. But we do need to stay vigilant now that our cover is blown. Mars, why don't you stay here? I can keep an eye on you and your house."
"I don't want to put you out. I'm working tonight, so I'll be out late."
"Do I need to remind you of what happened this summer?" She wagged her finger.
"I'll stay with her tonight," Evan offered. "I'll be off work by nine. We should be safe if we stick together."
"I know what that means!" Ida slapped her knee with a hoot. "I'd give anything to be young again."
"You don't have to be young to have sex," Sylvia said with hands on her hip.
"I didn't mean that. I meant you'd have to be young to have a chance with a looker like him." She shot her thumb over to Evan. "Who'd want the windbags at the senior center?"
"Dear Lord, we're off topic again." Mrs. Janowski shook her head. "Mars will stay at home with Evan. I'll keep watch with my night vision goggles. Make sure to keep your bedroom shade closed," she warned. "My heart withstood Edna's tryst, but I don't think the ticker could stand actual hanky-panky."
My face deepened to crimson.
"Ho ho! Her Irish blood betrays her!" Ida exclaimed.
"Have you been spiking your coffee already this morning?" Sylvia asked.
"I've been off coffee since eight." Ida held up her mug. "Slainte!"
The ladies groaned.
"Where's Kym?" I asked. "I thought she’d be here."
"I haven't heard from her," Mrs. Janowski said.
"Fill her in if you hear from her. I'm heading to work . . . hopefully." I stood to leave.
"No problem. Let us know if you need back up. Ol' Bessie’s in the trunk ready to go."
Evan dropped me off at Road Hog at quarter to eleven. I was a little early but didn't have too many options seeing as he had to be to work at eleven. Hopefully with decent tips I can buy a tank of gas. Even a quarter tank would send me over the moon.
Speaking of moons, I should probably check-in with Dad. I haven't heard from him in over two weeks. An oddity since he always calls to tell me the latest universe happenings. Considering it takes millions of years for anything celestial to be created or die, you'd think it wouldn't be a continual source of topics. I've found it not to be the case.
Stepping into Road Hog, I found Hank hunched over the bar grimacing at a stack of papers. His reading glasses slipped down his nose as he scratched his chin.
"What are you doing here?" He grumbled.
"I'm here to work."
He rolled the papers into his fist and straightened. "Not much going on. But, I have some business to take care of. Do you think you can handle the bar until I return?"
I glanced around as if assessing the situation.
"No need to be a smartass. Call my cell if you need me."
"You have a cell phone? If I call, will you know how to answer?" I teased.
"You've been hanging around those old hens, haven't you? Damn women are nothing but trouble." He headed for the door and muttered, "There's a sizeable chance I might accidentally hang up."
I chuckled as he exited with all his gruff and bark.
I set a liquor store bag on the bar and unpacked the contents Evan was nice enough to buy . . . with a promise of special payment later. Now that Hank was out of my hair, I'd be able to sneak in alcohol without complaints. I never thought I'd have to smuggle alcohol into a bar. Without Hank here to grumble about girly drinks, I can practice my magic on customers. A quick peek around the dusty bar told me I’d have to wait. I stored everything out of sight.
The bar desperately needed a good scrub down, I thought as I searched for cleaning supplies. I found a crusty mop and a dented metal bucket in a corner with an unmarked solution. Floor cleaner perhaps. Somehow I didn't think any cleaning product would cut through years of grime.
I brought the mop and bucket with hot water and mystery solution to the front and began scrubbing. The water turned black within minutes. There was a smell too. This has to be the skunk smell Renee referred to. The more I moped, the more stench released. I heaved the bucket to the back to dump it. After ten trips back and forth, Mac and Bob walked through the door and settled on their barstools with a distinct relief.
"Hey boys, I see you're back. How was the trip?"
"Haven't ridden that far or that fast in a long time," Mac said with a wince as he stretched.
"Did you find the Thunderballs?" I walked behind the bar to fix them a drink. "What were they up to?"
"We found them and then quickly hightailed it. The Wild Boars were following us and had their eye on the Thunderballs. I don't know what pissed them off, but they were looking like they wanted blood. That crap is for the young and stupid."
"What if they follow the Thunderballs back here?"
"Lock the doors and run," Bob warned.
"What died?" Mac's nose crinkled.
"The floor. I've been mopping and a horrible smell is lifting with the dirt." I set a glass in front of each of them. Their eyebrows rose as they inspected the fruity concoction.
"What is it?" Mac asked with the same crinkled look the foul smell received.
"It's a Mai Tai. Just try it." I inched the glasses closer.
"It's fruity."
"Think of it as drinking a serving of fruit and vitamins."
Bob chuckled. "He hasn't had a serving of fruit in decades. His system won't know what it is."
"The sooner you drink it, the sooner I pour you a beer."
"What about a beer chaser?"
"You need a chaser with a fruity drink?" I arched my brow.
"Did you have to girl-it-up with this silly umbrella and fruit?"
"I added a manly sword too." I smirked.
He let out a sigh and eyed the drink. "Where's Hank?"
"He won't be back for a couple hours. I'm practicing cocktails for ladies. You two are all I have. If you find a woman to test my drinks, then you can have a beer."
Mac grumbled and clutched the cocktail as if being forced to drink the mucky floor water. The door swung open before Mac took a sip. He used the interruption to set his drink down.
"Look! It's a woman," he exclaimed as if he sighted land after a shipwreck.
I didn't have to look at the woman to know it was Jocelyn. The insect-repellant perfume and the disapproving tisk froze me to my spot. My eyes slid over to see her prop her designer sunglasses on her head, her eyes taking in every speck of dirt.
Both men watched as their salvation sauntered to the bar. Little did they know she was anything but.
"I was told you work here. I had to see for myself." Her brows pinched together as she inspected the barstool before perching on the edge.
"After you blackballed my name all over town, this was the only job I could get," I clipped. And, I don't technically have this job, I thought. "What do you want?"
"A drink."
I slid the drink from Mac to Jocelyn. "Here you go. He's afraid of it; too girly. On the house."
"I was thinking more of a whiskey sour," she said and pushed the glass back.
I took the glass and slid it back to Mac observing he was holding back a tear.
"Man up," I told Mac. "There's a woman here. You don't want her to think you're as girly as your drink." I held back a laugh.
He frowned at the drink, tossed out the umbrella and sword, and gulped it down as though it was toxic waste. I watched open mouthed as he slammed the glass down. His face froze in a hesitant twist as if waiting for a horrible aftertaste.
"Well?" Bob asked.
Mac's face cleared. "That ain't bad. You say it has vitamins?"
"The juice and fruit have vitamins, but I'd think the alcohol kills everything."
"Another round," Mac grinned. "Doc said I need more fruit and veggies."
"That's not what he meant," Bob argued.
"Is he here?"
"No."
"Then he can’t complain."
"Tomorrow I can make Bloody Marys. I don't have the ingredients here, but they have veggies," I offered, mixing his drink.
Appeased Mac didn't drop dead from my concoction, Bob took a sip.
"What about me?" Jocelyn tapped on the bar.
I was attempting to forget she was sitting in front of me with her dagger nails and hawk eyes. "I can make you a Bloody Mary too."
"I mean my whiskey sour!"
I poured whiskey in a glass of ice. "Here you go."
"That's just whiskey." She sniffed the glass. "And it's the cheap stuff."
"I haven't learned how to make it yet. You can have whiskey, beer, or a Mai Tai. Better yet, you can leave."
"Is that anyway to speak to your boss?"
"You fired me." I tossed a wary look over to Bob and Mac who were watching intently.
"We both know you deserved it." She held up her hands to silence my protest. "BUT, I'm a reasonable woman. I think everyone deserves a second chance. I'm here to offer your job back. You can quit this pit and come to work tomorrow."
I wiped the bar as the words sunk in. Why was she offering my job back? Curtis was right. She wanted me to crawl back. I found a different job instead. Is this Jocelyn's version of an apology?
Predator Patrol (Mars Cannon Novel #2) Page 11
