by Rye Hart
“People around here talk if you wear white after Labor Day for Christ sake.”
“Either way, the rumors aren’t good. He’s gruff and rather unfriendly. He cussed out old man Dillard the other day, apparently.”
“In his defense, we all want to cuss out old man Dillard,” I said.
“Beside the point.”
“No, exactly the point. Have you actually met this man? I mean, gone up and shaken his hand?”
“No, but I know—”
“Then you can’t judge him by the rumor mill. This town talks. It always does. And sometimes, it has a good reason to talk. But usually, it doesn’t. Just a bunch of bored old biddies with nothing better to do than make up some juicy stories to pass around the knitting circle,” I said.
“You still need that security system,” Nicole said.
“I’ll wait for that winning lottery ticket, and I’ll get one,” I said.
“Mommy, when’s the pizza gonna get here?”
I looked up and saw Lillian’s beautiful blue eyes staring back at me, full of her father’s spirit and calm.
I felt my heart leap against my chest as I smiled at her.
“Soon, booger. Soon.”
I watched a smile spread across her cheeks as a knock came at the door.
“Pizza delivery.”
“Just a second!” Nicole said.
“I can get dinner,” I said.
“Nope. You need to save up for that security system. I’ve got dinner tonight,” she said.
Nicole meant well.
She always did.
She always knew what was best for me.
I just hoped she wasn’t right about the mysterious man from out of town.
Chapter 2
GRAHAM
I sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring down my face.
Another fucking nightmare.
It was the same dreadful day that replayed like a broken record. Like a curse.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table.
Four in the damn morning.
I got up and walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes made me look much older than my thirty-eight years. I rose to my full height of six three and studied my reflection. My dark brown hair was tousled from sleep, and my deep blue eyes were haunted.
All I made time for these mornings was my therapy of hitting the weights hard to take out my frustrations. My efforts resulted in well-muscled arms and a sculpted chest that narrowed to a V at my waist. I scrubbed a hand over my beard and sighed deeply.
It was the third time I had the nightmare in one week. Over the past year-and-a-half, the nightmare played out in my dreams and woke me from a dead sleep.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed, I climbed in the shower to wash the sweat and the haunted memories from my body and mind. The soap and water cascaded down my broad chest and thick thighs, and I scrubbed myself as if I could physically remove the memories.
It never worked.
Nothing worked.
I didn’t want it to work.
I coveted the pain.
The torment.
Pain was my way of seeking redemption. Redemption that I knew would never come.
I was living in my own personal hell, in the third town I’d moved to since that horrible night. I had to leave the place I’d once called home. It reeked of too many memories.
Too much guilt.
Too much innocence lost.
I walked to my kitchen to brew coffee, needing to kill time before Daniel would be awake in a few hours. He’d be up by five am his time. The Agency engrained that in him, just like it had in me.
Now, I was up before sunrise every damn day, but not because I had someplace to be. My mind was overwhelmed with memories that haunted me.
My little boy, Kason, had been sick that morning. He’d woken with a fever and his eyes crusted shut. I was pretty certain that he’d had pink eye, and my wife, Cary, had wanted to take him to the doctor to get checked out.
If I closed my eyes, I could still see the look of concern on her beautiful face. I could see the worry in her liquid brown eyes. I’d held her close to me and tried to tell her that everything would be fine.
Oh, how wrong I’d been. That was the last time I held her.
I remember sitting on the edge of my boy’s bed for a few moments, smoothing the dark blonde hair away from his flushed face. I bent down and kissed him before going to jump in the shower for work.
Little did I know when I left the house that morning, that it would be the last time I’d ever see them alive. If I’d only taken the day off to go to the doctor with them. If I’d only done any number of things differently that day, they’d still be alive.
I felt my heart begin to race, and I paced back and forth in my kitchen. I huffed a deep agonizing breath out into the air. It was happening again. A panic attack.
I needed to find something to do other than replay that nightmarish day in my mind or I was going to drive myself nuts.
Talking to Daniel would help. Daniel had become my closest friend through our years of field work at the Agency and he was the only one from my old life who I still communicated with. He’d been the only person who witnessed my downfall from start to present. Everyone else was locked out of my life for good.
It was better for them. Safer.
Daniel took care of most of the funeral arrangements.
A funeral I could hardly even remember.
I wanted to be left the hell alone.
Isolated from the world.
Bourbon tasted better than coffee, and the tears I should’ve been shedding came in the form of holes in my bedroom wall.
The police department in DC was filled with half-brained idiots. They called the shootings a simple home invasion and dropped the investigation after only a few weeks due to lack of evidence. It was a fucking joke.
The alarm system had been disabled, and the windows broken from the inside out. Nothing in the house was missing, and nothing was overturned as if someone was looking for something.
Home invasion was the cover-up. Something was off. And because I hadn’t seen it sooner, my wife and son paid the ultimate price. In the end, it was my fault. I should have seen it coming.
Fuck. I could have stopped it.
After months of drinking away my guilt, I put down the bourbon and packed up my shit, leaving my badge and my gun on my desk at the Agency. I didn’t even leave a resignation letter or speak a word to any of my co-workers who tried to voice their bullshit words of sympathy. I didn’t need anyone’s fucking pity.
I walked out on the CIA, never turning back. I changed my last name and altered my date of birth and took off for parts unknown. The agency would not be happy with my leaving, as I had not been properly debriefed.
I knew things they didn’t want anyone else to know and, leaving in such circumstances, they figured I might have gone rogue.
That in combination with my skills made me a threat. I could take on ten men at once and leave them all unconscious without breaking a fucking sweat.
Fuck them. Let them feel threatened.
Not one fucking case was opened to get to the root of my family’s killers. The Agency accepted the word of the damn police department. That told me something was wrong with the whole situation. The family of one of their highest-ranking agents was murdered in a home with the newest and best security system at the time, and they didn’t care to look farther into it? I hated everyone in that damn office for not taking it more seriously. We were trained to believe that nothing that happened around us was random or coincidental.
That left me to do the digging myself. I went over everything that had led up to that day in my head over and over. An operation had gone south not long before. Had someone I’d put away come at me for revenge? The endless unknowns were enough to keep me up most nights.
I
wasn’t going to rest until I found out.
God as my witness, justice would be served for my family.
I needed to get as far away from the Agency and my former life as possible. I’d lived in two remote towns before settling into Bend, Oregon.
I made it my mission to fit in somewhere just enough to be left the fuck alone.
So far so good.
End of Sneak Peek. Would you like to know how this continues?
Click Here: Stone Heart
EXCERPT: BAD SEED
Bad seed. Reckless. Wild.
I never told him how badly I wanted him.
Now my brother's best friend is back in town.
And things are about to get really crazy...
I left town eleven years ago.
Hell was behind me, and I vowed I'd never go back.
Then I got an email that shook me to my core.
"Theresa's in trouble."
That's all I needed to know.
When I finally saw her I cursed myself for leaving.
A vixen with lips so full and curves that could kill.
Danger's stalking her. Lucky for me, I like danger.
The bastard who wants to harm her has a death wish.
Theresa's mine now. And I always protect what's mine.
Chapter 1
Theresa
Eleven Years Ago
“Theresa, the guy’s bad news”.
“He’s not a bad guy, Jane. He just had a rough home life. That’s why my parents took him in,” I said.
“Fine, but I still can’t believe you’re fantasizing about your brother’s best friend.”
“I’d rather talk about your love interest. Did you actually kiss him?” I asked.
“Who?” Jane asked.
“Do I have to specify?”
“Come on,” Jane said as she giggled. “Who are you talking about?”
“You know. Chance. The captain of the football team? You can’t tell me you didn’t kiss him after the game last night.”
“Maybe,” Jane said with a grin.
“You little tease! I knew it! And you’re giving me a hard time about my innocent crush on Grant. You’re sucking face with the school quarterback. Why can’t this be my miracle moment?” I asked.
“Are you saying Chance kissing me is a miracle?” she asked, her face turning a slight shade of red.
“Jane, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“That’s what it sounds like you’re saying.”
“Look, I don’t want to argue, okay? I want to know how it was,” I grinned.
Jane’s face perked back up. “It was awesome. His lips were all warm, and he had just put on Chapstick so they were nice and soft. And his tongue…”
“He used tongue?” I asked. “Have you ever done that before?”
“Not until him, but he didn’t need to know that. Confidence is key, Theresa. Project confidence and he will think you know what you’re doing,” she said.
“You’re so lucky, Jane. I haven’t kissed anyone yet.”
“And if you stop daydreaming about your brother’s best friend, maybe you’ll see that Ike has the hots for you.”
“Ew. Ike?” I asked.
“Yeah. Don’t you see him staring at you every day in science class? Even I can see it, Theresa.”
“But Ike is—Ike,” I said.
“Sure, he doesn’t wear a leather jacket, but he’s smart like you. And if you look past his baggy shirts, he’s got some muscles going on under there.”
“No, he doesn’t. Ike wears glasses and reads books.”
“Like you,” she said.
“But I don’t want someone like me. I want—”
“Grant?” she asked.
“Yeah. I want Grant. Even though I know, I can’t have him.”
“You do know that’s weird,” Jane said.
“Yeah, I know it’s weird. But it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it.”
“Trust me, I know,” she said. “You talk about it every time I come over.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I just want you to get your first kiss so we can talk and compare and do all of that fun stuff. But maybe you should be looking at someone who already likes you instead of someone who you can’t have.”
“Like Ike,” I said grimacing.
“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “He’s really not a bad guy. And he’s head over heels for you. I can see it. He’s always making googly eyes at you and watching you walk down the hallway. He’s got it bad. You could easily have your first kiss with him.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “But—”
“But what, Theresa?”
“Do you think there’s a chance Grant might like me back?”
“Would it matter?” she asked.
“I think it would. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for me to have a crush on someone that doesn't like me back. But if he likes me, maybe it could be a one-time thing. Like with you and Chance.”
“Chance and I are not a one-time thing.”
“What?” I asked. “Did he ask you out?”
“Yes, he did. I’m going on my first date!”
I threw my arms around my best friend as we jumped up and down. I was so excited for her. She had been crushing on Chance Fuller for an entire year, and she was getting to go on a date with him.
But a part of me was jealous that she was getting her dream guy.
I wanted my dream guy, too.
“When? Where is he taking you? Do you know what you’re wearing?” I asked. “Please tell me I can help you pick out your outfit.”
“Of course, you can. Who else would?” Jane asked. “We’re going out this Saturday night if my parents let me.”
“Oh, my gosh, what if they don’t let you?” I asked
“I’ll sneak out,” she said, shrugging.
“Jane! You can’t do that.”
“Why not? You can kiss the guy your parents let move in, but I can’t sneak out of the house to go on my first date? I might even let him touch my boob.”
“Wait, over the shirt or under?” I asked.
“Under,” she grinned.
“You wouldn’t! Jane, that’s like an open invitation to have sex.”
“Yeah. And?”
I gawked at my best friend as she strutted around my room.
“I couldn't think of anyone better to lose my virginity to. And it would be perfect. My first kiss, my first date, and my first time? In the same week? It would be perfect!”
“Jane, you can’t have sex with Chance.”
“And why not?” she asked. “Because you can’t have sex with Grant?”
I felt my cheeks flushing hot as Jane sat down on the bed next to me.
“If it makes you feel better, I do think Grant likes you,” she said.
“Wait, you do?” I asked. “How? Why? Did he say something?”
“No, not really. He does ask me sometimes how you’re doing.”
“He does? Why would he ask you?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of weird, but sometimes I catch him staring at you.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me? This is massive.”
“It’s just some looks. Not nearly the same kind of looks Ike gives you,” she said.
“But Grant isn’t like Ike. He doesn’t wear is heart on his sleeve. Grant’s mysterious. And quiet. And wild.”
I felt a smile trickle across my cheeks as I sighed.
“You’ve got it bad for him,” Jane said.
“I do. You’re not pulling my leg on this, are you?”
“I’m not. But I’m worried about you getting your heart broken. You know your parents won’t ever allow it.”
“So? You’re about to sneak out of the house and go on your first date. Why couldn't I hide something like this from my parents?”
“For one, you both live here,” she said.
“We could work around that, you know. Staying behind sick on family movie
nights. Staying up late and talking downstairs. Sitting on the porch. Riding around together in the car.”
“Wow. You’ve really thought this through.”
“I have,” I said with a grin.
“Hollis would have a fit,” she said.
“We could double-date. You know, if things don’t work out with Chance.”
I watched Jane’s cheeks tint with red as she shook her head.
“Oh, come on, Jane. I know you think my brother is hot.”
“I don’t have a crush on your brother,” she said. “And even if I did, he’s off-limits.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because he’s your brother, Theresa!”
“I’d let you date him! Even though the idea of you guys kissing is awful.”
I gagged playfully, and Jane pushed my shoulder.
“You’re so gross.”
“It’s why you love me,” I said with a grin. “Hollis is a pain in the butt, but I know you like him. You look at him with those googly eyes and blush every time he smiles at you. It’s textbook.”
I always enjoyed those innocent parleys with my best friend. Little did I know that night would change my life forever. Jane and I sat on my bed, giggling about kissing boys and planning who we would lose our virginity to.
I wouldn’t find out until later that my mother was listening in on the conversation.
She’d been standing right there in the doorway of her own bedroom as Jane, and I giggled during our sleepover. Jane and I spent the night listening to music and watching movies and eating junk she bought at the gas station before passing out on my bed.
And when I woke up, my mother was knocking on the door.
“Jane, I’m ready to take you home whenever you’re up,” my mother said.
“Okay, Mrs. Peterson,” she said.
“Five more minutes, Mom,” I said.
“Don’t take too much time. I have some errands to run soon.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes as Jane, and I fumbled out of bed. She pulled her clothes on as I shoved all the empty candy wrappers into the trash can. I looked at my best friend as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair and I envied her. I envied how thin her body was and how every single piece of clothing she wore seemed to fit her perfectly. I was a little on the thicker side, with boobs that hadn’t quite grown along with the rest of me. My hair was wild and curly, and my glasses were thick. Jane’s hair was straight and shiny, and her vision was perfect. She’d been my best friend since we’d been little kids, and I had it in my head that because we were so close, we would turn out the same.
