Queen of Hearts

by Jami Denise

  The thought made me ill.

  “Shove off, handsome. Those boys are waiting.”

  He hesitated, but then tipped his hat and backed out of the room, shutting the door with a quiet click.

  THREE

  “It’s slow. We should close down and go for a drive.”

  Jackson’s lips brushed against my neck, and my entire body shuddered. I’d been lost in thought most of the day. It’d been three days since the awkward situation the night he’d gone out with his friends. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I knew he could sense me pulling away.

  I did a lot of thinking that night while I was alone. Staring at the peeling walls and the static-ridden television put things into perspective. I had to make a choice.

  The choice should’ve been an easy one. I had a good thing going with Jack. I had a job—not a great job, but a job—and I had a little peace in my life. Of course, I was truly and completely in denial about things that went down when I left Vegas, and the words from Flynn’s last letter still burned in the back of my head. I needed closure, and deep down I knew it was only a matter of time before I snapped.

  Even though my nightmares were less frequent and the dark corners of my mind got lighter and lighter the longer I stayed with Jack, I was still restless. My heart was somewhere else, tethered to a man I couldn’t trust.

  That was where my choices came into play. Staying with Jackson wasn’t an option, no matter how wonderful he was. I couldn’t continue to hurt him if I couldn’t let Flynn go. It was cruel to continue pretending I was completely content when I wasn’t. It wasn’t from lack of trying. I wanted to be content. I wanted to fall in love with a great guy and live a happily ever after.

  Unfortunately, I was defective inside. I wasn’t programmed correctly, and my damn heart had nothing to give the sweet man. It was charred and black inside.

  I leaned back into Jack and nodded against his shoulder. “A drive sounds good. Let me clean up, and I’ll meet you out here in fifteen.”

  Nature had never really appealed to me—maybe because I’d lived in the city for so long. I liked looking at it, but being in it—or involved with it—wasn’t my thing. I was beginning to really enjoy it, though, or learning to appreciate it at the very least.

  The silence was no longer eerie. The sounds started making more sense the longer I spent outside, and the scent of the fresh air and rich earth was fresh and exhilarating.

  More than anything, it was peaceful in a way I’d never known.

  I’d grown to love the warm hues of the desert, especially the sunsets as they dipped behind the symmetry of the hills. When I moved to California, it was one of the things I’d missed the most. Even falling in love with the ocean didn’t deplete the way I yearned for red clay and dark summer skies.

  The landscape along the country roads toward the lake was just as beautiful. The dense trees lined the road, and the dry, crisp limbs begged for some fresh rain. But it was gorgeous, and sitting on that bench seat of the truck across from Jackson gave me a giddy, calm feeling. It was exactly what I needed to unload the shitload of confusion that weighed on my mind.

  My toes bobbed in and out of the freshwater spring as I ran my fingers through the blades of grass. Jackson lay on the blanket, his arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. I got the appeal of a romantic afternoon, sharing sandwiches and kisses and listening to the birds chirp. It was charming. Sweet. And completely out of my norm. That bitch of a conscience came back, tapping me on the shoulder, but I blocked it out.

  I just wanted to enjoy the day and work through the issues one day at a time.

  “I was thinking about that place you stay.”

  I peered over at him, confused. “What about it?”

  He laughed and pushed himself up on his elbows. “It’s a piece of shit. Why don’t you stay with me?”

  My stomach clenched. That wasn’t happening.

  Sitting up straighter, I sighed and closed my eyes to gain some composure.

  So much for a stress-free afternoon.

  “I’m fine there. It’s sort of charming.”

  His eyes burned into mine. He wasn’t buying it, and I was a little afraid to get into this conversation.

  “It’s full of low-lifes and burn-outs. You should be with me.”

  Looking down, I shook my head. “I can’t move in with you, Jackson.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Won’t.”

  “Is it because you’re leaving?”

  His question caught me off guard. I tensed and looked away, not sure how to answer him. Once again, he read me like an open book.

  Reaching out, he pushed my hair behind my shoulder and kissed my neck. “Don’t play dirty,” I said, laughing. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “If I was playing dirty, I’d already have you out of those jeans,” he whispered.

  This man... he was too damn hard to resist. Those blue eyes and the dimples in his cheeks left me a pile of dumb.

  I was on my back with him above me in seconds. His eyes were playful, but his lips weren’t smiling.

  “Jack... don’t.”

  He held me down while I struggled to sit up. “Jayne, don’t do this. I’ve got a perfectly good place, and I want us to start...” He trailed off, but the unspoken words were clear. They were like napalm in my belly.

  “I like being on my own, Jackson. It has nothing to do with your place, or you. It’s me.”

  It was a half-truth. I hated being alone. It was part of the reason I felt comfortable in the arms—and in the beds—of strangers. The problem was me, and that was the worst part. I was fucked up.

  “That’s bullshit. I’m with you every night as it is. It ain’t right living in a motel, unless you’re not planning on staying.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eye. The probability of me staying was slim, but I still hadn’t decided.

  I pushed on his chest, forcing him to sit up. “Jack, we’re having fun, right? We’ve only known each other a few months. There’s no reason to move in together yet.”

  He scoffed and sat up. I knew he was pissed. “This isn’t about moving too fast or moving in together, Jayne. You’ve been acting weird for a while.”

  That was a shock to hear. I hadn’t realized I’d been that obvious, but apparently, I was as transparent as they came. For me, that was unheard of. Pretending was one of my greatest gifts. It was another reminder that I was losing my grip.

  “Will you go back to him?”

  He was bombarding me with impossible questions, and I wondered how long all of this had been worrying him. I felt awful, and I knew in that moment I had to come clean—at least throw him a bone.

  I’d already come to the conclusion that I couldn’t continue lying to him. Not after all he’d done for me, but especially because he didn’t deserve it. He deserved so much better than what I was giving him.

  It wasn’t fair. Not to him, and not to me.

  It didn’t matter that I’d warned him—he wasn’t the type of man to just let go or give up.

  “I honestly don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Right now, today, no. I don’t want to go back. Eventually, maybe. I haven’t made up my mind, and that’s exactly why I told you from the beginning that this could never go anywhere. I’m fucked up, Jackson. You have no idea what I’ve done, or what I’ve gone through, or what brought me here. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  Hurting him was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I knew that pain. I’d felt it down deep in my bones. I would never inflict that on someone like him.

  “I make you happy, Jayne. I can see that you’re happy sometimes. You’ve changed since you’ve been here. You could give it a chance.”

  “You do make me happy, Jack, but it was a mistake to get involved with you,” I told him honestly.

  “If you’re happy, then it’s not a mistake. If this is about you not being over that guy...”

  I held up my hand for him to stop.
“This isn’t about some guy, Jack. That’s not why I can’t do this. It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Why are you here? Why did you come here, Jayne? If you’re not running from a guy, then what is it?”

  I looked away from him and turned my eyes up toward the sky, at the clouds floating by with no purpose or worry. “It’s not a nice story, and I don’t think you want to know. In fact, I know you don’t.”

  “You have to trust someone someday, Janie, or at least give someone a shot at earning that trust. Otherwise, you’ll never know.”

  I didn’t tell him that made sense. Why bother? I’d trusted before—it wasn’t that I was so distrustful that I was completely closed off like he thought I was. It was the broken trust that was major and significant enough to cause me to hide all my pieces in my pocket. He wasn’t getting in there, and neither was anyone else. Not to the bottom, not in the crevices where the long-hidden secrets balled up and died. No. As much as he deserved it, had earned it, I wasn’t giving that away.

  FOUR

  I pulled up in front of the bakery and was immediately assaulted by the rich, sweet aromas of freshly baked goodies and good strong coffee.

  I’d found the quaint little place my second day in town and had visited each morning, ordering the locally-famous cinnamon roll and a plain black coffee. I’d never realized what a sweet tooth I had until I found the quirky sweet shop. I’d denied myself the fatty, calorie-ridden things for years.

  It was nice not giving a shit. Thankfully, I had spectacular genes that allowed me the pleasure of eating horribly. I’d always been too preoccupied with trying to look my best, be my best. The other indulgences were nothing compared to biting into a gooey, doughy cinnamon roll.

  And I decided it didn’t matter. Even if my ass spread an inch or a mile, I wasn’t giving up those damn daily rolls for anyone.

  They were that good.

  I got out of the car and pushed my sunglasses down on my nose. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I spun around, making a full ninety-degree turn, and scanned the street around me. I’d had a weird vibe for a few weeks, a sense that someone was following me, watching me. I’d chalked it up to crazy paranoia, but I was beginning to think it was something more.

  Shaking my head, I pushed the door open, smiling at Helen, the owner and creator of the devilishly delicious rolls I was craving, and laughed as she held up a white paper bag.

  “It’s a sad day when you’re a regular at the bake shop, Helen.”

  She smirked and gave the bag a shake. “I heard Jack took off to be with Connie in Tulsa. She went into labor last night, so I figured you’d be in a hurry to open up the diner.”

  With a grateful smile, I grabbed the bag and coffee, thanked her, and headed off to work.

  I’d been a little hurt by the short text Jack sent me the night before telling me he’d be gone a few days to visit his sister. I’d asked for the distance—wanted it—but I was beginning to hate it.

  The loneliness set in again and started filling up that creepy space in my head just when it started to quiet down.

  I wasn’t good with emotions, damn it, and the confusion was almost more than I could deal with. In an attempt to gain the upper edge and gain back some control, I’d shifted him right back into the driver’s seat.

  It pissed me off.

  I drove the short distance to the diner and headed in. I was late, as usual, so I was grateful when I saw Dannie, one of the waitresses, had beaten me there.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I told her, grabbing a seat at the counter and tossing my bag down on top. “I had to stop and get some goodies.”

  She smiled. “You’re never on time, Jayne. Jack called this morning and asked me to open up.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled my treat from the bag, tearing it in half, and offered her a piece. “He’s a smart man.”

  She took the roll, leaned against the counter, and bit into it. “Mmm,” she moaned. “Helen’s buns are the best.”

  I nodded, too busy shoving the rest of the roll in my mouth.

  Licking her fingers, she stared at me, a curious look that made me nervous. Sandi and I got along pretty well, but we’d never really talked all that much. It was usually shop talk, or sometimes the weather, but nothing substantial. I was good with that. I didn’t need any more connections to the town.

  “What?” I asked.

  “There was a guy in here looking for you. Two days ago, and then again last night.”

  I gulped down the chunk of dough and swallowed heavily. I didn’t like where the conversation was going. Every cell in my body was on high alert. Run. That was the only thing going through my head.

  Rationally, I knew it was impossible that Flynn had found me. I’d left not one trace, and butt-fuck Oklahoma was barely on the map. No... there was no way.

  “What did he want?” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but it wasn’t without difficulty. I was freaking out.

  “I don’t know. He was strange, if you ask me. First, he asked about the cute brunette that worked here, and I kinda made a joke about it being me. I told him, ‘standing right in front of ya, handsome.’ He just stared at me like I was crazy, and then he left.”

  She shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but me? Inside, I was trembling. Something was up, and my subconscious was ready to kick my own ass for being such a slacker. I knew it. Knew it. I freaking knew someone was following me. My instincts were right, and I’d chosen to ignore them.

  “Look, Jayne. I know we don’t know each other real well and stuff, but I care about Jack. Don’t hurt him, okay?”

  My eyes shot to hers, and I wasn’t sure what to say at that point. The look in her eye said it all. She was in love with him, and I’d taken that for granted. Looking at her, the way her eyes misted and her lips pressed together, tight and steady... I’d missed the signs. I’d been so wrapped up in my own selfish bullshit that I’d ignored this girl and her obvious affection for Jack.

  “He’s known from the beginning this isn’t serious, Sandi. I would never hurt him on purpose.”

  She gave me a sad smile and pushed away from the counter. “He’s just, well, he’s a good man, and that guy that was looking for you—I don’t think he is. He gave me a really bad feeling. I tried to throw him off your trail, you know? I know you’re running from something, and I thought it might be him. No one comes here because they want to.”

  I couldn’t get into it with her. She was fishing for information, and I was in no way going to get her involved or give her ammunition to get between me and Jack

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, Sandi, but it’s not necessary. I came here to start over. That’s all. You don’t need to worry, okay?”

  She didn’t look convinced, but there was nothing I could do. I got up, wiping my hands on my napkin, and took a long gulp of my already cold coffee.

  “Well, this tastes like crap. Let’s get busy and start a few fresh pots. The customers will be beating down the doors before we know it.”

  Sure enough, by seven-thirty we were packed. I had to admit—it was impressive the amount of business Jack did. I attributed most of it to Ray, his brother and the cook. The guy was a short-order genius. He made the best damn biscuits and gravy I’d ever had.

  The rush afforded me the opportunity to forget about the stranger and the gut feeling that things were about to get bad. We had every table full, to-go orders up the ass, and being short-handed didn’t help. But it was good having something to keep my mind off things.

  Finally, we had a break after the breakfast rush, so I quickly tallied up the till and went back to the motel to rest, gather my bearings, and think about my next step.

  FIVE

  Sleep was hard to come by. I had a lot to think about, including Jack. We’d fallen into a routine of comfortable avoidance. He hadn’t pushed for me to move in with him again, or even mentioned it for that matter. He somehow understood that I needed time to figure out
my issues.

  I used that time without him. I dug deep and ticked off all the pros and cons, analyzed my reasons for running off after my dad and Vince died, and came to terms with my decision to stay with him as long as I had.

  My conclusions weren’t easy to take.

  I was a coward and a liar. Simple as that.

  Jack had become my cushion; my tiny, dilapidated motel room became the fortress that held my demons on the outside. The small town was a Mecca for all the things I thought I was missing out on and wanted in my life.

  But it wasn’t. It was as solid of a trap as my previous life had been. I’d fallen into the same pattern, only with a different outcome. I’d settled on a dismal job because it was easy, a hole-in-the-wall motel because it was cheap, and a false relationship because it fed my insecurities and my fear of being alone.

  I still had no idea where I fit in. I still wondered where I belonged, what I wanted. That mask I’d donned for as long as I could remember was still strapped to my skull, embedded into my skin with a grip so tight I thought I’d suffocate.

  Coming to terms with the cold, hard facts was a blow for sure. I knew I would eventually go back to Vegas. It was inevitable. I wasn’t sure I’d stay, but I had to return and deal with the aftermath of what had gone down: the death of my family, the deceit from Flynn, my business, and most importantly, to face the ghost that wouldn’t leave my mind.

  Doyle Maguire.

  That man had to pay, one way or another.

  I could picture that rat bastard sitting on his throne with a big shit-eating grin on his face, satisfied that he’d taken us down.

  He had, to an extent. My father withered and died at his hand, he’d chased me off, and taken everything Vince had, including his life.

  He was in for a surprise. I still had some fight in me. The more I pulled back the curtains to look through the window of my mind, the stronger I was. I was tougher than I gave myself credit for, and running off with my tail between my legs wasn’t my style. I’d slithered away, snuck off with the excuse of starting over, but in reality, I’d never stood my ground the way I should have.