Rum Runner

by Tricia Leedom

  Panic fluttered in her chest. She tried to wriggle away from him, but he held her so tight it was almost painful. She trained her gaze on his chin because she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.” She sighed heavily, not wanting to admit the truth to herself let alone to him.

  “You’re afraid of what your friends might say.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “You’re lying. You do care. You care too much. I remember you in eighth grade, April. You weren’t like this. You weren’t this girl.”

  “You’re right. I was the fat, lonely girl no one wanted to talk to.”

  “You were smart and shy and the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”

  She looked up at him, trying to decide if he was teasing her. He seemed sincere. Her stomach fluttered again. “I can’t go back to the girl I was.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “But you are. You don’t understand. I don’t want to give them a reason to turn their backs on me. I like having friends. I need them. I can’t be that lonely girl ever again.”

  “We’re seniors. Another seven months and we’re out of that school. So who cares if they turn their backs on you? You won’t be alone. You’ll have me.”

  “For how long? You’re going off to college in the fall.”

  “You could enroll in my school. Heck, you can afford to go to any college you want.”

  She touched his cheek. He was so earnest. So good looking. And yet, this didn’t feel right. If this were true love, wouldn’t she be willing to give up everything just to be with him? She liked Damian a whole lot and wanted him to be her first lover, but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice her friends or her lifestyle to run away with him. “I want good things for you, Damian Rios.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I want good things for you, too.”

  “Then have sex with me. Break my curse.”

  He snorted softly.

  She didn’t know what to make of that sound until his soft lips brushed against hers and urged her mouth open for a kiss. His hands drifted down to cup her bottom.

  They were going to do this. It was finally going to happen.

  One of his hands rose along her hip and stole under her clingy tank top. He gently cupped the underside of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Since getting the implants, she often didn’t wear one. She hooked her leg around his hip. Of all days to wear shorts instead of a skirt, she thought, as she ground against his hardness and moaned into his mouth.

  “April! What do you think you’re doing?”

  April shoved down her tank top and spun away from Damian to face her stepmother. “Courtney! Hey. What’s up?”

  “Your father is freaking out right now. He saw you through the window kissing that boy in the driveway. I told him to calm down because it was probably nothing. But, oh my God, April! Were you going to have sex with him?”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal.” Courtney leaned forward and hissed as if lowering her voice would prevent Damian from hearing the insult, “Are you crazy? He’s the help.”

  “So were you once.”

  Courtney gasped.

  Taking satisfaction from the hurt expression in her eyes, April crossed her arms and said to Damian, “Did you know my stepmom was working as a cocktail waitress in one of my dad’s hotels when he started screwing her?”

  “That’s not cool, April.” His quiet rebuke made her flush.

  “But she put you down! Why is it okay for my dad to screw the help, but I can’t?”

  His eyebrows shot up. Too late, she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I just mean they’re being hypocrites for criticizing me.” That wasn’t any better. His handsome face clouded with hurt. “I’m sorry, Damian. I’m so sorry.”

  He backed away shaking his head. “This was a bad idea. You’ve changed. April. More than I realized.”

  “No! Please, wait. Just listen to me—”

  “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  April’s heart broke as she watched him disappear around the corner of the garage. She’d hurt him. Hurt him badly when she honestly didn’t mean to.

  “It’s for the best,” Courtney said.

  The rage that had been simmering inside April all week erupted. “Just stop it. I meant what I said. You and my father are hypocrites. What do you care who I sleep with? Maybe I’ll get knocked up and my dad will send me away for good. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Is what you feel for that boy really worth all the trouble it will cause, or are you just trying to spite your father because you’re upset about the baby?” She put her hand over her flat stomach.

  The gesture made April queasy. “I like Damian.”

  “When I left Philip, he was ranting about firing the boy’s father over this. Casa Linus is Mr. Rios’ biggest job. You realize this could put him completely out of business?”

  “No, that can’t happen! Damian has five younger brothers and sisters. If his dad lost his company, Damian wouldn’t be able to go to college. He’d have to stay home and work.”

  “Then you better convince your father there’s nothing going on between the two of you.”

  “You won’t tell him what you caught us doing, will you?” Desperation replacing her anger, April grabbed her stepmother’s arm and held her breath.

  Courtney tucked a strand of sleek blonde hair behind her ear before she moistened her collagen-injected lips and said, “After the way you spoke to me, why should I do anything for you?”

  “Please,” April said weakly. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

  “He already got an eyeful in the driveway. You were all over that boy.”

  April lowered her gaze and nodded.

  “I’ll help you if you do something for me.”

  Her head came up. “Anything, just name it!”

  “Tell him you’re happy about the baby and convince him you mean it.”

  April swallowed the lump in her throat. Her chest was burning again, but she said, “Okay.”

  “Then we have a deal.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “What is this place?” Sophie asked Jimmy as he stepped up onto the wooden porch of the thatched-roof building.

  Gripping a weathered post, he said. “It’s called The Last Place in Hell. The sarcastic son-of-a-bitch who named it is an expat.”

  The bar sat on the edge of nowhere a good mile from the outskirts of town. The one-story building perched on an outcropping of rock overlooking the bay.

  After a grueling three-hour hike through a steep and rocky rainforest and another forty-five-minute trek through the rustic mountainside village of Hell’s Gate, The Last Place In Hell was the last place Sophie wanted to be. “Can’t we check into a hotel before we start making inquiries? I’d give anything for a hot shower and some fresh clothes.”

  Jimmy looked down at her from the porch. “No hotels on the island. Well, not the kind you’re use to anyhow. That’s the charm of this place. It’s untouched by the fancy resorts and casinos that hog the coastlines of the bigger islands. Its sparse population is one of two reasons it’s a popular pass-through for people looking to disappear.”

  “What’s the other reason?”

  Jimmy nodded toward the building. “I told you, it’s the rum.”

  “I can’t believe there’s no tourism on the island.”

  “There is. People come for the hiking trails and the scuba diving, but the airport’s runway is too short to accommodate large commercial aircraft. It keeps the tourist traffic down to a minimum.”

  “So why did you bring me here to this pub of all places?”

  “This is one of your daddy’s favorite watering holes. Odds are high he stopped by for a drink when he was in town.”

  Sophie looked at the building again, but she no longer saw a rustic pub in the middle of nowhere. She saw a snapshot from
her father’s life. He might have stood in the very spot she was standing in. The notion warmed her. She was suddenly eager to see the rest of the place.

  “Do me a favor, Duchess, go along with whatever I say in there and let me do the talking.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I understand.”

  Jimmy held the door open. “After you.”

  As Sophie entered the building, she took in the mishmash of campy tropical décor on the whitewashed walls, the small stage and dance floor to the left that paralleled the long bar, and the dining area in back that overlooked the water.

  A short, stocky man with a bald head stood behind the bar writing in a ledger. When he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up on his nose, the light caught the silver stud earring in his left ear. The black T-shirt he wore bore the business’ name and an image of a bright red cartoon parrot sipping a frozen daiquiri.

  Jimmy dropped his duffel on the ground by Sophie’s feet.

  The bartender did a double take and a wide grin spread across his face. “Well, look at what washed in with the tide. Jimmy freakin’ Panama.”

  Jimmy reached across the bar to shake the little man’s hand. “What the hell happened to your hair, Stewie?”

  “I finally realized that business in the front, party in the back wasn’t having the effect on the ladies I was looking for. They love the cue ball though.” He rubbed the top of his head. He looked at Sophie and winked. “Hey there, pretty lady.”

  “Hello.” Sophie didn’t trust Stewie’s Cheshire cat grin, nor did she care for the way he was eyeing her chest through his thick glass-bottle lenses. Her cami top was no longer white and felt as if it had shrunk two sizes after its douse in the ocean.

  “What brings you back to these parts, Panama? Last time I saw you, you drank a fat Frenchman under the table and then slipped out the back door with his supermodel wife.”

  Jimmy chuckled until he glanced sideways at Sophie and caught her judgmental expression. When she arched her eyebrows in question, he turned back to Stewie and said, “That was a lifetime ago, and she was his sister, not his wife.”

  “His sister?” A look passed between the two men. “Right. My bad. Can I get you a drink?”

  “A Corona,” Jimmy said.

  Stewie pointed at Sophie, including her in the question.

  She shook her head.

  “You sure you don’t want anything?” Jimmy said as he slid onto a barstool. “That was a long hike.”

  “All right. I’ll have a water with lemon, please. No ice.”

  While Stewie headed down the bar to retrieve a bottle from the cooler, Jimmy gestured for Sophie to take the stool next to his.

  Stewie returned with a frosty bottle of lager and slid it toward Jimmy before he snatched a soda gun from somewhere out of sight and began filling a glass with water.

  Jimmy reached across the bar and took a lime wedge out of the fruit tray. He squeezed it into his beer. “Business slow?”

  “Nah, we don’t open till four.”

  Stewie tossed a lemon into the glass of water and placed it in front of Sophie, who asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “Duchess, this is Stewart Diamond. He owns this hole in the wall. Stewie, Sophie Thompson.”

  Her stomach fluttered, hearing her biological name used so casually in conversation.

  “Enchanted, milady,” Stewie said with a small bow. He looked at Jimmy. “What the hell are you doing in Hell, my friend? Are you back in the biz?”

  “Something like that. The lady hired me to find her daddy. We have reason to believe he passed through here recently.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Mitch Thompson.”

  Stewie eyed Sophie with renewed interest. “I didn’t know Mad Dog had a kid.”

  “That’s probably because I’ve never met my—”

  Jimmy put his hand on her knee and spoke over her. “Mad Dog kept her away from his business. He went off the radar a few months back, and she needs to get in contact with him pronto.”

  “Yeah?” Stewie looked skeptical. “What’s the emergency?”

  “She’s engaged. To a great guy. Name’s Alvin.”

  “Andrew.”

  Jimmy shot her a dark look. “The lovebirds are getting hitched in a couple of weeks and she wants her daddy at the wedding.”

  “Really?” Stewie said. “Why the short engagement?”

  When Jimmy hesitated, Sophie said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m knocked up.”

  The odd, startled expression on Jimmy’s face made her nearly spit out the water she’d just sipped. Holding back a giggle, she swallowed and said, “Didn’t I mention that to you? I thought I had.”

  “No. No, you didn’t.” He glared at her for a hot second before turning back to Stewie. “Do you see why it’s important we find Mad Dog ASAP?”

  “My father’s going to be a grandpa.”

  Jimmy squeezed her knee so hard she yelped.

  Stewie’s gaze shot back to her.

  “Mosquito.” She looked away to study the colorful painting hanging on the wall behind the bar. Five parrots playing poker. Stewie certainly had an affinity for the tropical birds.

  Jimmy crossed his arms on the bar. “It’s urgent we find Mad Dog or else the pretty lady here won’t have nobody to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day.”

  “Mad Dog passed through here in the last couple of weeks. Only stayed for a night or two.”

  A flash of excitement made Sophie straighten eagerly on her stool. “Did he say where he was going?”

  “South.”

  “Did you hear that?” She grabbed Jimmy’s arm, halting the Corona bottle he was in the process of raising to his mouth. “You seem to know him well. Where would he go if he was traveling south?”

  “Don’t get too worked up, Duchess. He was just as likely heading north. You think he’d tell loose-lips over here which way he was really going?”

  Sophie looked at Stewie who shrugged and went back to drying a glass.

  “Then what good is all of this? We’re chasing after a retired Navy SEAL with a cache of survival skills. We’re never going to find him.”

  Jimmy pivoted on his stool to face her. “Something will turn up, darlin’. The fact that Stewie can confirm your daddy was here means we’re on the right track.”

  She stared into his dark blue eyes wishing she could believe that.

  Stewie cleared his throat. “There is something else, but I’m gonna need something from you in return before I give it up.”

  Jimmy sighed. “How much is it gonna cost me?”

  “Not money. I need your help. Can I speak to you outside for a minute, Jimmy?”

  “Sure.” He took his phone out of his pocket and set it on the bar in front of Sophie. “You can try calling your momma again if you want. I won’t be long.”

  “Thanks.”

  The men walked out onto the deck and disappeared around the corner.

  She looked at the phone resting on the bar. It was nearly ten o’clock at night in the UK, but her mum would still be up, taking chamomile tea while she responded to the day’s emails. Her mum was strict about her routines.

  Sophie picked up the phone and stared at the dial pad. What would she say to her mother? How honest should she be?

  The phone buzzed nearly startling Sophie off the stool. She caught herself on the edge of the bar and slid back onto her seat. The phone vibrated a second time. She looked at the incoming number but didn’t recognize it.

  What if it was her father calling? It was possible. He’d rung Jimmy once before. What if a mobile phone was the only thing separating them at this moment? The temptation was too great. She answered the phone on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Sophie? Oh my God, is that you?”

  “April?”

  “How are things? Did you find your dad yet?”

  “No. It’s been a t
ricky couple of days.” Sophie leaned on the bar and toyed with the little straw in her drink. “The plane we took to Jamaica crashed and—”

  “Holy crap! Are you both okay?”

  “We’re fine. Just a little banged up.”

  “OMG! Isn’t Jamaica sick? I had my sixteenth birthday party in Montego Bay. If you have time, you have to check out the Luminous Lagoon outside of Falmouth. The water glows when you touch it. It’s so awesome.”

  “Sounds like it, but we left Jamaica yesterday. We’ve been through Hell since then, figuratively and quite literally. It’s actually a lovely place.” Sophie chuckled at her own joke.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Did you need to speak with Jimmy about something?”

  “No. Not really. I just wanted to check in and let him know Dorito is doing great. He’s taken over the lanai.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Thanks, Sophie. Good luck finding your father.”

  “I’m going to need it. Thanks for calling.”

  “Sure.” April hesitated. “Be careful, Sophie.”

  “I will,” Sophie said, wondering at the odd note in the girl’s voice as she pressed End on the phone.

  Jimmy came up behind her. “Did you talk to your mom?”

  “No, that was April. She was just phoning to let you know your cat is embracing the good life.”

  “He ain’t ever coming back is he?”

  Sophie smiled. “I doubt it.”

  Jimmy let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “Where’s Stewie?” she asked, looking past Jimmy’s shoulder for the little man.

  “Receiving a delivery. He says he has a letter your old man asked him to mail, but he ain’t giving it up unless we do him a favor. Let’s go get cleaned up and grab some food and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  April hung up the phone but didn’t let go of the receiver.

  “Well? What did she say?” Her father stood over her. They were alone in his study. She was sitting behind his desk.

  “They aren’t in Jamaica anymore.”

  “My contact on the island told me as much. Where are they now?”

  April bit her bottom lip. She hated this.

  “Remember our deal, April. You give me the information I want and the Rios boy gets a full scholarship to Stanford.”