by CP Smith
Neither replied.
“Are you guys still here?”
I sat up and looked at both women. They were staring straight ahead with their hands in the air.
“What are you doin’?” I asked. Leaning forward to look out the front window, I caught sight of what held their attention. “Do we know him?”
Standing in front of my car was a grumpy-looking guy pointing a gun.
“I thought Devin told you not to get kidnapped again?” I reminded Cali.
“It must be a robbery,” Poppy whispered. “Sit back and do as he says.”
Grumpy Gus—who was sporting an MC cut and wearing sunglasses and a bandana to disguise his identity—moved toward the driver’s side, so I rolled down my window to negotiate with the man. “We don’t have any money.”
“Out of the car,” Grumpy Gus growled, and I could have sworn he was looking at me.
“Don’t you mean her?” I asked for clarification, pointing at Cali. I don’t know why he’d want me. Cali was the one with a bazillion dollars.
“Out,” he bit out again.
And ruin this lovely high? I don’t think so.
“NO!”
The man jerked his head to the side in confusion. “No?”
“That’s right. I don’t feel like comin’ with you. You’ll ruin my magical green fairy high, and after the day I’ve had, you don’t want to ruin my high.”
“Jesus,” Poppy grumbled. “Man with gun, Sienna. Try not to piss him off before Devin’s sixth sense kicks in, and he comes to the rescue.”
“Does he have a sixth sense?” I asked Cali.
“I’m thinkin’ he does,” she replied, then whispered, “hold on, I’ll make a break for it when I get my chance.”
“No more talkin’,” the man shouted, pointing his gun at me. “Out of the car.”
“Why?” I asked, because it was a logical question.
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not good enough,” I retorted. “I do not go home with strange men.”
The man looked confused, and, I’ll admit, a wee bit pissed off by my answer.
Maybe this is his first robbery?
Tired of waiting for me to comply, the man lowered his gun and approached my door. Cali, who clearly thought she was Jeff Gordon, punched the accelerator as he approached, the tires screeching for all they were worth as we shot out of the alley. When she hit the main road, she took a quick right then another, and for some reason doubled back the way we came behind the bar.
“What are you doing?” Poppy shouted.
“He ran to his truck. He thinks I’ll keep going. If we double back, he won’t expect that and we’ll lose him.”
“Devin’s rubbing off on you,” I sighed, falling back against the seat, my magical green buzz temporarily deflated due to an overabundance of adrenaline. “He’ll never let you go out with us again when he finds out we were almost robbed.”
Cali creeped around the back of the building just in time to see the taillights of his truck as it peeled out of the parking lot at a high rate of speed. We turned in our seats and looked out the back window, holding our breath until we saw the truck speed down the street in the direction he thought we went.
“Genius,” I said. “You can keep Devin.”
“Devin didn’t teach me that,” she answered.
“Book?” Poppy asked.
She nodded. “Linda Howard, I think.”
“Blair Mallory?”
She shrugged. “Not sure, but Blair would have thought of it if she didn’t.”
“You know Bo reminds me a lot of Wyatt in To Die For,” Poppy added. “Maybe we should call him and report the incident?” Her eyes lit up at the thought of Bo coming to the rescue, and my stomach dropped, the buzz I’d been riding lessening more in the face of seeing Bo Strawn again.
“NO!” Cali and I both cried out.
Poppy looked between us with wide eyes.
“Sienna’s right,” Cali rushed out. “Devin would lock me up and throw away the key. It was just a random guy hopin’ to cash in on three women out alone. Let’s just keep this between the three of us.”
I nodded emphatically in agreement. “What she said. The last thing I need is Bo Strawn yellin’ at me again. I’d need a whole bottle of magical green fairy potion to survive that.”
“You sure?” Poppy asked. “He could impound your car as evidence, forcing you to deal with the rude detective like in To Die For.”
“You’re missin’ an element to that plot,” I pointed out.
“What’s that?”
“A dead body.”
“Oh. Right,” she mumbled, her nose scrunching at the thought. “But what if he’s your Wyatt like Devin is Cali’s Devil?”
“Bo Strawn is more likely my Voldemort,” I snorted, “not my knight in shining armor. Besides, if I had to pick a fictional character to sweep me off my feet, I’d choose Iain Maitland from The Secret by Julie Garwood.”
“Nice,” Cali sighed. “Nothin’ like a Highland warrior to get your juices flowin’.”
Poppy cocked her head in introspection. “Bo’s a little like Iain as well.”
“He can’t be both Wyatt and Iain.”
“Uh, yeah, he can. He’s got the whole broodin’ cop thing down like Wyatt, but protective instincts like Iain. Why else did he confront Chase?”
“To humiliate me,” I threw out. “He was gettin’ back at me for not pullin’ over.”
Cali groaned. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Devin respects Bo. He wouldn’t be friends with him if he was anything but a stand-up guy.”
She had a point. A point I couldn’t argue at that moment due to my muddled brain.
“Then why did he go after Chase?”
“I know,” Poppy interjected, “why don’t we call him and tell him you were almost kidnapped at gunpoint and find out?”
“NO!” Cali and I shouted again.
“Just a thought,” Poppy grumbled.
“Let it go, Poppy. Bo and me, it’s never gonna happen.”
The adrenaline that had surged during our adventure leaked from my body and the green fairy potion took over again. I wanted to lie down in a cool field somewhere and stare at billowy clouds as I pondered my life.
I settled for the back seat of my car.
“We should get goin’,” I yawned. “I doubt he’ll find us now.”
Turning so I could lie down, I glanced out the back window and gasped. Before I could cry out, “Go. Go. Go,” the sound of metal meeting metal exploded around me as Grumpy Gus crashed into the back of my car.
Two
LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE
SIENNA’S PAINED EXPRESSION HAUNTED BO like a ghost wandering Bonaventure Cemetery at midnight. He needed to find her, to explain he’d spoken out of anger and frustration. That he’d lashed out at her for reasons he couldn’t explain.
After searching up and down River Street, he’d stopped by the Armstrong sisters’ resale shop, Frock You, to see if she’d headed there with the other Wallflowers. Calla’s aunts had informed him they’d seen all three women leave in Sienna’s car.
Now what?
“I should let it be,” he grumbled as he headed to his truck, well aware he wouldn’t. Not after the way her dark pools had brightened with tears. Since he’d met Sienna, she’d been argumentative, stubborn, and steadfast in her convictions. Never sad. He didn’t like that he was the one to put that look on her face.
Folding his six-foot-four-inch frame into his truck, Bo made the decision to head to his office, where he could access Sienna’s personal information. He’d find out where she lived and head there to apologize. Then maybe the weight in his chest would ease. The last time he remembered feeling this way, he was a boy whose mother had just abandoned him, and it wasn’t lost on him that a woman who reminded him of her was now the object of his self-inflicted torture.
Traveling south on Bay Street, Bo was about to turn west toward his st
ation when a silver car passed in the opposite direction at a high rate of speed. Grumbling under his breath, he switched on his siren then waited until traffic cleared before executing a U-turn.
Weaving in and out of traffic, he caught sight of the car turning onto the River Street entrance he’d exited minutes before, bouncing off the curb as it sped down the ramp.
Just what he needed. Drunk tourists.
Punching his accelerator, Bo followed them down the ramp that led to the back alley and parking for the historic buildings on the river’s edge. As he made the turn, searching for the silver car, movement caught his eye. It was Sienna and her friends. They were rushing through the gate that backed to Calla’s building. He also saw the silver four-door parked at an angle next to the fence. It was empty, and the rear end was damaged.
Suspicion reared its head, so he parked behind the car to keep it from leaving, then peeled out of his truck, his eyes glued to the spot the Wallflowers had rushed through a few moments before.
Ripping open the gate, Bo found the three women huddled together in the back garden of Calla’s building. He’d been there twice in the last week, and it still amazed him how her aunts had created an oasis from the world in the back alley of the two-hundred-year-old building. Flowers of every color bordered the fence, while a Pergola and water feature drew your attention to the center. Wisteria vines covered the structure, their scent blocking out the fumes of passing cars as they wound their way down to street level. In Bo’s estimation, it was a thousand square feet of pure fucking paradise.
Calla saw him first as she fumbled with her phone, and elbowed Poppy. Poppy looked up, saw him, and then nudged the object of his frustration with her shoulder, pointing in his direction. Sienna turned her head and froze. He expected her reaction to be aloof after his harsh comments. It was anything but.
Before he could ask, “What the fuck is goin’ on?” Sienna started moving toward him. Her long blond hair shimmered in the afternoon sun like spun gold, partially hiding her face. But not enough that he couldn’t still see tears running down her cheeks.
That’s when he went on full alert.
“Talk to me,” he bit out as Sienna approached, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she kept moving until her head banged into his chest and she’d grabbed a handful of his shirt. The heat from her body bled through his clothes, and he folded his arms around her without a second thought, tightening his hold as her body began to tremble. It was as natural to him to comfort this woman as it was to breathe, and he stored that information away to think about later. Right now, he had a puzzle to solve.
“Hey?” he mumbled low, leaning down so he could whisper in her ear. “Talk to me.”
“You need to arrest me,” she sobbed.
His brows pulled together in confusion, and he looked to Calla and Poppy for clarification. Their heads were bowed, their eyes averted. Not a good sign.
“Why do I need to arrest you, honey?”
She hiccupped, buried her face deeper into his chest, then cried out, “Because I killed a man.”
Bo stiffened at her answer but didn’t let go of her. “You wanna say that again?”
Pulling her face out of his chest, Sienna wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands, then tried again. “I killed a man,” she answered on a broken breath. “A robber.”
“You killed a robber?” he questioned.
“With a Yeti.”
He blinked.
“With a what?”
“With a Yeti. A metal cup.”
The sweet smell of liquor filled the space between them as she tried to explain her weapon of choice, and he sighed.
She’d been drinking and was confused.
“You’ve been drinkin’,” he stated.
“I know. Does that mean I’ll get more jail time, since I’m under the influence?”
“You didn’t kill anyone,” he explained. “You’re imaginin’ it.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, I did. I threw a Yeti out the window after he chased us down the street, and it hit his windshield. He crashed his truck because he couldn’t see. He’s dead. I just know it.”
Bo looked over her shoulder and saw the other Wallflowers nodding in agreement. Something had happened, that much was certain. The question was, what?
Releasing Sienna, he grabbed her hand, pulled her toward Calla and Poppy, then pointed at lawn chairs, ordering them all to, “Sit.”
All three obeyed immediately, and he thanked God for small miracles.
“You,” he bit out, pointing at Calla. “Explain.”
“After the scene on the, uh, sidewalk,” Calla’s eyes darted to Sienna then down to the ground. “Well, we stopped at a bar for drinks.”
“So you were assaulted inside the bar?”
She shook her head. “When we left in Sienna’s car, a man stepped out in front of us with a gun.”
“Is that when he chased you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, we got away first then doubled back behind the buildin’ to hide until he was gone.”
“That was brilliant by the way,” Sienna interjected. “Too bad it didn’t work.”
“Totally brilliant,” Poppy added. “I never would have thought—”
Bo’s jaw began to twitch from holding his temper in. “For Christ’s sake,” he barked, interrupting, pinching the bridge of his nose for patience, “finish the story.”
“Right. Sorry. Well, we were waitin’ to make sure he was gone before leavin’, but he found us.”
“And that’s when Sienna threw the Yeti?”
“No, he slammed into the back of Sienna’s car first, so I took off. That’s when he gave chase. Then Sienna rolled down her window like she said and threw a thirty-two-ounce Yeti full of Coke at him. It shattered his window, and he crashed into a light pole. We didn’t stop when he crashed, considerin’ he had a gun, and came straight here. I was about to call Devin when you found us.”
Bo could feel his blood pressure rising, so he counted to ten before he spoke. “Let me get this straight,” he asked through clenched teeth as an image of Sienna hanging out the window of a speeding car made his blood run cold. “You were confronted by an armed robber, and instead of handin’ over your cash, you tried to evade him. Then he found you while you were hidin’ in your car, instead of inside the bar where it was safe, and you proceeded to try and outrun him. Then, while drivin’ erratically, puttin’ the public in danger, Sienna risked her life by hangin’ out the window to throw a metal cup at an armed man? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?”
All three Wallflowers grimaced.
“It really didn’t seem that stupid at the time,” Poppy tried to argue, and Bo saw red.
These women had no fear. Not a lick of sense.
“Oh, boy, his eye is twitchin’,” Sienna mumbled. “That means he’s about to blow.”
“Enough,” Bo growled—shooting Sienna a look that dared her to say another word—then pulled out his phone. “Devin should have his head examined for gettin’ himself tied up with a woman like the three of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Calla gasped.
“It means none of you have the sense that God gave you. You’ll all end up dead if you don’t learn self-preservation, for Christ’s sake,” Bo shouted. “Now, give me the location of the wreck before I lock all of you up for leavin’ the scene of an accident.”
“Liberty and Habersham,” she squeaked out, bugging her eyes out at her friends.
At least one of them had sense enough not to push him.
“No one leaves this location,” he ordered, leveling each woman with a hard stare, then he started moving toward the back gate. “I’ll be back once I know what the fuck is goin’ on.”
“Should I call Devin?” Calla called out.
Bo looked back at her and shook his head. “I’ll do it. If you spout off the shit you just told me, he’ll lose his mind. I don’t need Hawthorne goin’ cowb
oy on this guy if he lived through the accident.”
She nodded, then Bo’s eyes landed on Sienna before leaving. She still looked shaken by their encounter, and his protective instincts kicked in for the second time that day. She may not be his woman, but the need to keep her safe hummed through his body like a battle cry. He needed to find this guy quickly. No armed robber he’d ever arrested would keep searching for a target unless they wanted something else, or worse. In his estimation, all of the Wallflowers were in danger until he found the man who dared to raise a gun on them.
On Sienna.
Devin rode up on his hog as the fire department put out the last of the flames. Bo watched him carefully as he approached. The set line of Devin’s jaw told him all he needed to know. If the man hadn’t already perished in the fire, Devin would have been on the war path.
“Lay it out for me again,” Devin bit out as he turned his eyes on the smoldering wreckage. “I need to know if this is related to Calla’s grandfather.”
Bo jerked his head for Devin to follow so they weren’t overheard by the forming crowd. Once they were a good distance away, Bo laid it out like he asked.
“According to Calla, this guy tried to rob them at gunpoint. They got away, and a chase ensued. Sienna threw a Yeti at the truck while he was in pursuit, and it shattered his window. He hit that pole,” he explained, nodding toward the wooden light pole that had split at the base and was currently lying across the hood of the truck, “and it burst into flames.”
“Witnesses?” Devin asked, scanning the street.
“None. No one saw Sienna throw the Yeti. No one saw the crash. The explosion’s what alerted nearby residents.”
“You know,” Devin stated, holding his eyes.
Bo took a deep breath and looked at the smoldering wreckage. “Yeah, I know. And I’m keepin’ it that way.”
Devin’s brows shot to his hairline. “You’re not reportin’ what you know?”
Bo’s teeth ground together. He was by the book. Followed the letter of the law. Always. Until today. “It serves no purpose. Calla and her friends were the victims, not this guy.”
Devin grinned slowly. “You know the first time’s the hardest.”
