Slow Burn - a Novel: The Elite

by KB Winters

  * * * *

  Hours later, night had fallen, but Alesha hadn’t returned to the coffee shop. I’d cleaned the entire shop from top to bottom, taking the time to go through the master checklist of chores for the first time all month. It was better if I kept busy. Otherwise, I’d sit and obsess over the argument and get myself worked up again.

  But I’d finally run out of things to do and knew I needed to go to the grocery store and get some things for the house. Maybe I’d get the ingredients for Alesha’s favorite dinner as a way to broach a peace treaty. I was making a mental grocery list as I shrugged into my light sweater, grabbed my purse, and went to the back door. The small alley behind the row of shops was lit by a series of security lights at each back door, but as I stepped into the alley and turned back to lock the door, an eerie feeling crept up my spine. I turned to look up and back and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary but still felt like someone was watching me.

  I locked the door and tucked the keys back in my purse before starting down the alley to where the sidewalk would lead me to the beginning of the small shopping center. It was too small to be considered a strip mall, but there were three shops all next to each other, with The Siren on the end. A gust of wind kicked up and howled down the alley and I popped the collar of my sweater up to protect my neck from the chill.

  Footsteps sounded on the gravelly alley behind me and I froze in place.

  “Where’s the other girl?” A low, rumbling voice called to me.

  I whipped around and found myself staring up at a huge man with a broad chest and a mean snarl on his face. His eyes were fixed on me and my heart stopped beating in my chest. “Who are you?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

  “None of your business.”

  I drew in a breath, forcing my lungs to open again. I wanted to turn and make a break for the sidewalk and run as fast as I could until I got home and could barricade myself inside. I had no idea who the hulking man in front of me was, I’d never seen him in the shop before, but there was a menacing glare in his dark eyes and unless someone else was working late, I was all alone.

  “Where’s the other girl?” he repeated, more forcefully.

  “You have no business with my sister. I don’t know who you are but if you don’t leave, I’m going to call the cops.”

  “Oh really?” His lips pulled back in a cold smile and my heart sputtered and then sank to my feet.

  At my sides, my hands fisted into tight balls. I tucked my thumb alongside. Ready to strike if needed. The man had a good six inches on me and probably eighty pounds but I needed to be ready in case I couldn’t outrun him. “Yes. You’re trespassing to start with.”

  He laughed. “You’re feisty. I like that.”

  Something told me that was a very, very bad thing.

  He took a step towards me and I took a matching step back, only to find my shoulders pinned up against the brick wall. “I was hoping for the other one…your sister you said…but you might be a lot of fun too. Come here, baby. Let’s have some fun.”

  “Fuck off,” I spat. “One more step and I’m going to scream.”

  At my threat, he lunged. I screamed but even as it tore from my throat, I prayed someone would still be around to hear me.

  The man grabbed my wrist and tugged me towards him as though I were a rag doll. I reared back my other hand, snatching it out of his grip. He was big, but he was also slower than I was. He made another grab and I cocked my fist and rammed it into his gut. He grunted at the impact of my knuckles against his fleshy side, but instead of releasing me, his grip on my wrist only locked on tighter.

  “Get off of me!” I growled, spitting with rage. “Someone help me! Ra—”

  He clamped a hand over my mouth and shoved me hard against the wall. My head hit the brick and stars swam before my eyes. That moment was all it took for him to get a hold on my other wrist. I screamed again and he shifted both wrists to one hand and forced my arms above me head so he could cover my mouth once again. Muffling my next attempt to scream for help. I kicked at him and tried to wrench away, but he had me immobilized.

  “Listen, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. But I promise if you keep fighting, I’m not going to take it easy on you…” he growled, his face mere fractions of an inch away from mine. The smell of cheap beer and cigarette smoke poured from his mouth, making me gag.

  “Mother fucker, get off of her!”

  My eyes went wide at the sound of Nick’s voice. His footsteps thundered onto the path and the attacker froze at the sound. He dropped his grip on my mouth.

  “Nick!” I screamed.

  At my call, the man turned to follow my frantic gaze and hesitated just long enough for me to strike. I ripped my wrist free of his grip and connected an uppercut to his side. The blow landed and he doubled over, a moan mixing with a surprised gasp. I didn’t wait for him to recover before sending a right hook for his temple.

  Nick got there as he was reeling from the second shot and took over. He pulled him off of me by the back of his jacket, whirled him around, and punched him in the face. A sickening crack broke the tense air and blood spurt from the man’s nose.

  “Carly, go inside. Call the cops!”

  I lunged for the back door. I fumbled in my purse for my keys and then threw myself inside the kitchen. I dug my phone out next and with shaking hands dialed 911. I worked through the details with the operator as waves of nausea rolled over me. Once she assured me that officers were on the way she directed me to stay on the line. I cradled the phone against my shoulder and went back out into the alley.

  Nick had the man on the ground, his arms pinned behind his back. From the grunts and moaning of the guy on the ground, I wondered if he was only partially conscious.

  “Nick!”

  Without looking back at me, he replied, “Go back inside, Carly.”

  “Fuckin’ bitch,” the man on the ground growled.

  Nick slammed his face back down against the concrete.

  My heart was slamming against my ribs as both my adrenaline crashed and relief flooded me. I couldn’t believe Nick had shown up to help when he did. I tried to put together words and say something, but before I could get anything out, the wailing sound of sirens cut through the night. Nick muttered something at the man on the ground, still keeping his arms locked behind his back as he crouched over his squirming body.

  As the sirens neared, I sucked in a deep breath and sagged against the brick wall, staring into the bushes lining the walk, with completely oblivious eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nick

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” I asked, reaching out for Carly as she paced in front of me for the dozenth time since the cops left with the perp in the backseat. “Gemma could look you over, just to make sure…” the rest of my statement fizzled out at the flash of fire in her eyes.

  I held up my hand and shut my trap.

  She paced back once again, checked her phone, and then repeated the pattern. “I’m not going anywhere until I know where Alesha is. That man—no, that’s too generous—that asshole was here to get to her! She could still be out there, in danger. God only knows what she’s been getting herself into.” She stopped and heaved a pained sigh. “I’m sorry. I know, you’re just trying to help. But right now, this, it feels a little beyond help. I just need her to call me the fuck back!” her last words were growled down at her phone.

  I sat there in silence. My own nerves were just as fried. It was sheer luck that I’d even shown up at The Siren when I did. I shuddered to think what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been there to help. Once the perp got distracted, she threw in some good punches, but the guy she was up against would have gotten his way in the end.

  Tough chick.

  The thought of her getting hurt terrified me—no matter how tough I thought she was.

  “Can you come here?” I asked, holding out a hand.

  She stopped her paci
ng again and met my eyes from where she stood, three feet away, her hands clenched like talons. One around her phone, the other just frozen in a fist. After a beat, she relented, and came to my side. I wrapped my arm around her and cradled her to my side. To my surprise, she sagged into me. A second later, a loud, gut-wrenching sob broke the silence.

  “Carly,” I held her tighter, bringing my other arm around her and moving her against my chest. She broke down against me, her sobs wracking her entire body. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s over.”

  She nodded but her tears didn’t stop.

  Inside my chest, my heart beat out a frantic pace, wanting nothing more than to take away her misery and throw it out across the ocean.

  Or—at the very least—find a way to get her fuckin’ sister back in line.

  Teenage girls were a mystery that was impossible to solve. When I was a teenager, I naturally found them fascinating—but now—they exhausted me. The drama, theatrics, and rebelliousness were like bottomless pits from my point of view.

  Heaven help me if I ever have a daughter.

  Carly stilled against me, still clinging tight around my waist, but her crying seemed to have stopped. I tipped her chin up and wiped at the tears that had streaked down her cheeks with my thumb. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head once my thumb was removed.

  “For what?”

  “For being a basket case.” She laughed softly.

  “You’re not.”

  “Well, it sure as hell feels like it right now.”

  I replaced my hand on her waist, surprised she hadn’t jumped out of my arms yet. I didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, but at the same time, I wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

  Despite the sucky circumstances…it was nice to hold her.

  “Come on, let’s get you back home. Alesha will probably show up there anyway, now that business hours are over. You can call and leave her a message on the way so she knows where to go.”

  Carly thought about it for a minute, then nodded, and let me lead her down the path that led away from the place all the shit had gone down. When the police had arrived, I’d handed over the attacker—piece of shit—and they’d gone through the myriad of questions they were required to go over, again and again. The entire thing had taken just over an hour.

  When we reached the parking lot, I realized I didn’t have my truck. I’d walked down the bluff after another frustrating conversation with my little brother. And Carly didn’t bring her car to the shop. Shit.

  “Do you want me to call someone to give us a ride? Aaron would no doubt come down?”

  She shook her head. “Walking is fine. My place isn’t all that far from here. I understand if you need to get back though…”

  “Get back? To do what?” I shook my head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I got nothing going on tonight. I’ll stay until you feel better.”

  She didn’t put up a fight. We set off down the sidewalk and Carly checked our surroundings every few minutes, sweeping the area like a trained soldier, each glance methodical. Calculating risks. Noting the dark, shadowy places.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort and take the edge off of her nerves.

  She rubbed her eyes with her fists. “This is so crazy—it feels like a really bad nightmare. Nothing like this ever happens here in Holiday Cove. We are nothing if not sleepy, quiet…and safe.”

  I nodded. I hadn’t been a resident all that long, but I knew what she was saying was true.

  “Probably some drunk,” I said, thinking it the only solution. “And you’re safe now. With me.”

  Carly nodded, but something about her drifted away, and made her feel farther away—even though she was neatly tucked under my arm. She turned down the next street and I recognized the area, reorienting with the night we’d gone to Harvey’s—and I’d nearly crashed into her sister on my way to drop her back home.

  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  She looked up at me and shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that? I saw you get in some pretty clean shots on that guy,” I smiled softly, hoping that she’d loosen up at the compliment.

  Instead, she bunched up her shoulders and under my arm, I could feel her tense.

  “Is that…not okay?”

  After another few feet, she sighed and looked back up at me. “It’s okay. It’s just not something I like to talk about.”

  “Oh,” I reeled back, feeling as though my toes could no longer find the bottom of the pool.

  “Before I moved here, I was in a relationship, this junkie guy who treated me badly. I went through a few years where I didn’t feel good enough about myself to realize there was something outside the walls of our shitty little trailer.” She hesitated, glancing around as we entered the cul-de-sac where her home was located. “Anyways, he was mean to me sometimes. Mostly when he’d get drunk off his ass. When I tried to leave, he’d rough me up.”

  My heart pounded and another wave of nausea rolled through me.

  “I’m so sorry, Carly. That’s—God, that’s awful.” I shook my head, slightly dazed at trying to put together the pieces. How had the strong, independent, confident woman at my side come out of such a dark, abusive past? And how could any man ever treat her that way?

  “It was,” she said simply. “It was a long time ago. The point of the story is that when I left, and got away from all that shit, I made a vow to never go back to that life again. Part of the new plan for my life involved moving here, thousands of miles away from him, and then of course, opening The Siren. And, I also got a lot of my confidence back by learning kickboxing and some other forms of defense and combat.”

  “Wow. That’s really impressive, Carly. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “It wasn’t easy and, like I said, not something I put on my website bio to blast to the world. Hell, Aaron doesn’t even know all that…” she hesitated and looked up at me. The question evident in her eyes.

  “I would never say anything,” I said, wishing she hadn’t even had that thought that I would betray her confidence. “Does Alesha know?”

  “Not all of it. She knows that I moved after a bad breakup, but she doesn’t know the full extent of how and why it was so bad. Sometimes she looks down on me because I get after her about making her own life, her own future, but she thinks I only have the things I have, like The Siren, because our dad lent me the startup money. She wasn’t there to see the blood, sweat, and tears, the long hours, the utter exhaustion and stress that it took to get me here and to open my business.”

  “She’s young. Not that it’s an excuse…”

  “I guess.” She turned at the last house and started up the front steps. I followed behind and stopped beside her on the porch. With trembling fingers, she struggled to work the right key free from the loop. It took every ounce of my self-control to not reach for the keys and help her. But knowing Carly, she wouldn’t have wanted that.

  After a couple of tries, she got it open, and we went inside together.

  “Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Hey, how about you sit and I’ll get you something.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Her full lips pursed together, but before she could argue, I grabbed her shoulders, gently spun her around, and led her to the couch in the living room off the small entryway. She laughed as I sat her down and then lifted her legs up onto the coffee table, propping them up with a pillow. “Okay, okay. I’ll sit.”

  “Good. Tea?”

  “Sure,” she replied, still smiling.

  Making tea was a simple enough task, but it took me a minute to orient myself with her kitchen. Thankfully, organization was one of Carly’s best skills—of the ones I knew about—and it didn’t take long before I had two mugs of chamomile tea. I delivered one to her and then took a seat on the couch beside her and sipped at my own. “Oh…ew…” I pull
ed a face and lowered the mug, looking down at the contents as though they’d personally offended me.

  “Have you never had chamomile before?” Carly asked, eying me suspiciously.

  I shook my head.

  She laughed. “Well then why did you make it?”

  “It’s supposed to be relaxing!” I chuckled at Carly’s laughter and let the beautiful sound soak into me, loosening the stress and tension of the evening.

  “I’ll have yours then,” she offered, still smiling over the rim of her own mug.

  “You’re welcome to it as long as you don’t mind the germs.”

  Her eyes went dark and I wondered what was roaming around inside her pretty head. “I don’t.”

  I sighed and leaned back. “This is an amazing couch.”

  “Thanks. It’s kinda my happy place. Every day after work, this is where I’m camped out. I swear, at least three nights a week I fall asleep here and wake up a hot mess of eyeliner and lipstick.”

  “Hot.”

  “Totally,” she said, rolling her eyes. When they shifted back to me, a question was lurking. “What were you doing at the shop so late anyways? Have you still not stopped to read the business hours?”

  “Very funny. No, I knew you were closed. But…I’d had a rough phone call with my brother and needed a little air. I figured I’d stop by and see if you were still slaving away. Maybe steal a treat.”

  “You wanted to eat your feelings,” Carly said, grinning.

  I chuckled. “Something like that. If nothing else—I knew you’d understand.”

  “Yeah. I could teach a master course on dealing with pain in the ass younger siblings at this point…and you know what the sad thing is? We haven’t even spent that much time together. With such a big age gap, we were never really that close, and now it’s like I should be concerned with making up lost time now that we have things in common…or, at least we probably do.” She stopped to shake her head. “I don’t know. I give up. Maybe the right thing to do would be to ship her off to stay with our grandmother the rest of the summer.”