by Abby Brooks
“Sounds like it.” Ali wanders out from behind the counter and takes a seat on one of the plush chairs next to me, the cheap vinyl creaking and groaning as it takes her weight. “Should you call it off? Tell him you’re not interested in a relationship?”
I blink at the question, honestly surprised by it. “He treats me like an honest to goodness princess. Every day, he comes by and works on the house, helps me with the chores. I swear, he’s gotten more done around that place in the last week and a half than Handy Pete did in the last year. And he cooks for me. Like full on delicious meals of veggies from his garden and fish he caught in the lake. And the sex, holy shit, Ali. The sex.” I know I’m beaming again. It’s all I do when I think about being with Ethan.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to forgive me if I call bullshit on that one. You’re not exactly an expert on all things sexual.”
“Well, I’m gonna call bullshit on your bullshit. Because let me tell you this, Ali Culpepper. If everyone had the kind of sex that I’ve been having, then there would be no cheating or divorce in the world. This is like, world class, addictive kind of stuff.”
Ali opens her mouth to reply but the front door swings open, interrupting her. I look up, expecting Ethan, but then jump to my feet when an honest to goodness stranger walks in. He’s more out of place in Wistful than Ethan is, what with his cheap suit, black hair slicked back off his head, and a pinky ring so gaudy I think he got it out of one of those little toy dispensers at the grocery store.
He glances at me, dismisses me, and then gives his attention straight to Ali.
“Well look at you,” he says, staring at her the way a hyena might stare at the lioness’ kill. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
He turns to me, his smile all kinds of wrong. I take a step back before making myself stand my ground. Eyebrows raised, I glance at Ali, unsure of what to say.
“Oh, how rude of me. I’m Joe Sylvio. A friend of Ali’s from way back, right doll?” He winks at me and I feel dirty enough to want to wash my hands. “I’m just in town to say hello to my old friend. You know, passing through and all.”
The bookstore—which usually feels almost cavernous for the amount of business we do—suddenly feels too small. I need more distance between me and this Joe Sylvio. Everything about him screams bad and wrong and dangerous.
One glance at Ali shows me I’m not wrong for feeling this way. She’s pale and shaking. Her lips are parted and her nostrils flared. She’s got her hand floating in the space between her chest and her chin, like she doesn’t know if she should cover her heart or her mouth.
Joe strides over to her and leans across the counter, his face way too close to hers. “It’s real good to see you again, doll.” He looks at me and the smile he’s been forcing falls away and all that’s left is murder in his eyes. He sighs. “Look at her. She looks so surprised to see me, doesn’t she? I bet sweet little Ali thought she’d never see me again.”
When I was little, I had a cat who used to like to bring little dead gifts and leave them on the porch for me and Nana to find. One day, I followed that cat, mostly bored out of my head, but also a little curious as to what it looked like when she was hunting. Well, that cat found a mouse really fast that day. She stalked it for hours, just keeping pace with it as the little thing went about its little mouse business. The mouse would stop and stare at the cat sometimes and I always wondered if it knew what was coming. Like, when the cat finally pounced, was the mouse surprised or had it known all along that its death was inevitable?
After all these years, I finally have the answer to that question because here I am, looking this man in the face and I know without a doubt that he’s a fucking predator, playing with me and Ali until it’s time to pounce. Can he hear my heart hammering away? Does he get off on the flare of my nostrils and the little hitches of my chest? Is this all part of the game for him?
He finally steps out of Ali’s personal space and she wraps her arms around her stomach, working really hard not to let the tears tightening her throat to show on her face. She swallows hard, her eyes darting to me and the tears start to fall. I’ve never seen her so nervous in all her life. She’s pale and trembling and there’s apology and regret shimmering in her tear-filled eyes.
Joe chews on his lip for a second, watching her. “You do me a favor and make sure to clear a space in your schedule for me. We have a lot to catch up on.” He wanders to the door and pulls it open before turning back to let his eyes rake up and down Ali’s body before landing on her face. “You look good, doll. But you looked better in LA.”
Chills run down my spine. I literally shiver and drop down into the seat behind me, aware that little beads of sweat have broken out on my forehead.
Behind him, Ethan freezes on the sidewalk, a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. His face hardens in a way that makes my mouth fall open and my stomach start churning. The asshole in the bad suit with the tacky hair turns, sees Ethan, and stops in his tracks. There’s this snapshot of a moment where the two men stare at each other, bulls locking horns, and then Joe steps aside, gesturing for Ethan to enter.
“Ethan fucking Masters. Now this is turning into a proper reunion. I guess you’re here to see Ms. Culpepper, too?” His eyes drop to the flowers and the gifts as Ethan pushes past him. “Oh, shit,” says Joe as Ethan positions himself so he’s mostly covering me from view. “Are you fucking her?” He turns to Ali, letting the door swing closed. “Are you fucking this asshole now, doll? You got a thing for bad men, don’t you?”
Ali shakes her head, her mouth working without any sound coming out at all. Ethan still hasn’t said anything. Not one word. He’s just standing there with his arms full of gifts, blocking me from Joe’s view.
Joe steps towards him. “What? You ain’t got nothin’ to say to your old friend? Cat got your tongue?” And then, he leans around Ethan and sees me. “Oh, I see. You’re not fucking my Ali. You’re fucking this little thing. “She’s real pretty, Masters.” He sneers at me. “That long, red hair. Those sweet tits and that round little ass. I bet she fucks real nice. Even for a goddamn hillbilly.”
“You stay the hell away from her, Sylvio.” Ethan speaks through clenched teeth.
“Maybe.” Joe shrugs. “No promises, though.” And with that, he’s out the door.
Tears wobble in Ali’s eyes and the color has drained from her face. She rakes a hand into her hair and lets out a long, quivering breath.
“Why the hell was he here?” Ethan doesn’t even look at me. He goes straight to Ali who closes her eyes and won’t look at him. “Why was he here, Ali?”
She shakes her head, eyes still closed. “He was a mistake…” Her voice is so low I almost don’t hear it. “I’m so sorry.” She looks around Ethan to me. “Please believe me, Skye. I wouldn’t have done it if I had any choice in the matter.” She’s sobbing now and I’ve got a whole nest of hornets buzzing in my head. Whatever’s going on, it’s not good.
“What did you do, Ali?” Ethan’s voice is colder than anything I’ve ever heard in all my life.
“I called him,” she whispers, all the words out in one breath. “I told him you were here. He said I had to or he’d kill me. It’s the only reason I came home. To watch Skye in case you showed up here…” She trails off, sobbing in earnest now. “I’m so sorry, Skye. Please believe me.”
“Fuck.” Ethan slams his fist down on the counter and Ali and I jump. “You don’t even know what kind of shit storm just walked into our life.” He turns to me, that thunderstorm raging behind his eyes. He takes a long breath and lets it out slowly while the muscles in his jaw pulse and clench.
“I knew it was too much to ask to just be happy.” With that, he grabs my arms, yanks open the door, and leads me right out of the store.
Chapter Eight
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why in the world would Joe Sylvio of all people extort Skye’s friend just to get to me? And then, when we’re st
anding face to face with one another, just walk out the door without putting a bullet in my head?
Joe’s a low level flunky out in LA, scurrying around trying to gain favor and look tougher than he is. I know there’s a bounty on my head. Does that asshole think he’s going to bring me back with LA in some half-assed attempt at proving himself?
The truck rumbles and bumps over the gravel roads leading out of town and towards my cabin. Even though my home is hidden in the woods halfway up a mountain, I keep my eyes peeled the whole way. Joe’s not good enough to tail me without me seeing him. Not out here in the wide open space, where I’m the only vehicle to be seen for miles. Skye is buckled into the passenger seat next to me, pale as a fucking ghost, clutching the flowers and the stupid little gift I bought her trying to be cute. She hasn’t even opened the thing.
“Ethan?” she asks for the hundredth time. “What’s going on?” At least she’s finally stopped crying.
I don’t answer because I just need to be quiet and think. Plus, there isn’t one thing I can say to her that won’t freak her the fuck out. I had no intention of letting her know the man I used to be. Wouldn’t you fucking know she’s about to get a crash course on my past. What a stupid asshole I am for actually believing a man like me could get a second chance at life. That after all I’ve done, I could just settle down, find a woman, and think about raising a family.
Karma’s a bitch, right?
After a long and silent drive, we pull up the winding road that leads to my house and I slow down, careful to check the area for any signs of disturbance. There’s nothing that makes me think Sylvio has been anywhere near here. I park in front of the house and motion for Skye to stay in the truck while I do a quick check around the perimeter. The place is clear, just as I suspected. I open the truck door for Skye and help her out, closing the door as she surveys the area.
“You live here?” I follow her gaze to the small cabin with it’s one visible window smudged with dirt and who knows what else. There’s a stack of wood piled up on one side, complete with the axe I used this morning sticking out of the chopping block. It’s a far cry from the miles of wide open space surrounding her home and she hasn’t even been inside yet to notice the distinct lack of creature comforts.
“Yup.” I cringe, waiting for her to wrinkle up her pretty little features in disgust.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says instead, forgetting for a moment the betrayal of her best friend and turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “So simple and serene.”
“Why don’t you reserve judgement. You haven’t seen the inside yet.” I offer her my elbow and unlock the cabin door. I enter first because I know Bay’s waiting for me just on the other side of the door. There’s no reason to think he’d hurt Skye, but he’s a whole lot of dog if you’re not ready for him. He springs up to put his front paws on my shoulders, knocking me back a few steps as I try to turn on the lights.
“Woah,” says Skye, stepping backwards as I get Bay down on his feet and grab his collar. “He’s huge.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “What kind of dog is he?”
“He’s a mastiff. I found him at a shelter on my way out here. Former owners bought him as a puppy and just weren’t ready for the responsibility of a dog this size. He’s a little feral, but sweet. He’ll be a good dog when I’m done with him.” I rub Bay’s massive head while Skye lets him sniff her hand. She cautiously bends down to pet him and he opens his mouth in a wide, panting doggy smile, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
She smiles and straightens, finally taking in her surroundings. The cabin has everything I need and nothing more. It’s an exercise in minimalism and a far cry from the high end penthouse I called home in LA.
Skye raises her eyebrows and spins in a slow circle. “It’s very inviting,” she says in a voice that says it’s decidedly anything but inviting. She sets the flowers and gift bag down on my rickety little dinner table and perches on the edge of a chair, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.
“Ethan? Please tell me what’s happening. I’m really scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared. You’re safe with me.” Except she’s only in this mess because of me. So maybe that’s not the truest statement in the world. I open the door to let Bay out. He’s good enough to go out off his leash. He’ll stay on the property and come when I call him. Plus, he’ll be one hell of a good deterrent if Joe decides to show up here.
“Why is that man looking for you? Why did Ali…” She clenches her jaw tight and closes her eyes, shutting out the pain and confusion of knowing her friend went behind her back and lied to her. “Please tell me what’s going on?” Her voice is little more than a whisper, but she might as well be yelling at me for the way my gut starts churning.
Ignoring her question, I head into the kitchen and grab a big plastic pitcher I use for iced tea out of a cabinet. “I don’t have any vases,” I say, unable to meet her eyes. “But this should work for the flowers.”
“Ethan.” She’s more urgent now.
“You should open your gift, Skye.” This is the moment I should sit her down and tell her everything. Explain who I was and why we’re here. Tell her what she saw that night in LA. Explain why I matter enough for Joe Sylvio to extort her friend. I just can’t. If I tell her, I’ll shatter her opinion of me. I’m not ready to lose her.
She’s out of her chair now, moving towards me slowly, like she’s afraid to move too fast and scare me away. “Ethan, please talk to me.”
She takes the pitcher out of my hands and puts it on the counter. Threads her fingers through mine and leans in close. There’s no way I can tell her about my past. She’s not ready to hear that kind of truth and I don’t want to be that man anymore. Don’t want her to know me as that man, ever. She’s going to take what we have at face value, starting from the day she saw me at the hardware store, or she can just plain old walk away.
“Ethan, listen. This past week with you has been wonderful. When you and I are together, it feels like I’m unstoppable. Like I could take on the whole world and come out of it without a scratch. You make me feel beautiful and wanted and taken care of. But you’re hiding something from me and maybe I’m not as safe with you as I thought I was. I mean, even my best friend knows more about you than I do.” Pain clouds her eyes as she realizes how much Ali has been lying to her in the last week.
She waits for me to answer, that sweet face turned up to mine, hope dancing in her eyes. Hope that slowly fades away the longer I stay silent. I want to tell her everything. I want to tell her about the shit I left behind in LA. I want to tell her how I know Joe and why I know him being here is nothing but bad news, why I’m important enough for him to get into her friend’s head like he has.
But, I can’t. Not now. Fuck. Maybe not ever.
Skye steps away from me and I can’t stand the look in her eyes. “Maybe this isn’t good for me, after all. Maybe you’re not good for me.” She looks so sad. “Take me home, Ethan.”
And for all the shit in my head about her having to just walk away if she can’t take what we have at face value, I instantly balk at the thought of her being anywhere but at my side. “It’s too late, Skye. You’re already in this.” I shake my head. “I told you I wouldn’t be good for you.”
“Yeah, but I thought you meant you were a player or that you had a temper. Or that maybe you might not be planning on sticking around here very long. I didn’t think you were talking about actual danger.”
I have nothing to say to her. Well, that’s not exactly true. I have a whole shitload of stuff to say to her, but none of it is gonna get us anywhere. Not now. Not when I’m afraid that the trouble only gets worse the more she knows.
Skye steps back into me. “Ethan? Am I in danger?”
“After today. Yes. You’re very much in danger.”
Her eyes go wide and the color drains from her face. “What the fuck?” Her voice is shrill and I recognize the rising edge of panic. “You need to talk to me
. Now. You let me get my hopes wrapped up in you. In us. And the whole time you were keeping shit from me. Heavy shit. You bastard.”
She might as well have slapped me in the face. Sure, I never told her the specifics of what I was in LA, but she saw me that night. She’s a smart girl. She knows that good men don’t hang out in dark alleys pointing guns at people. She knew that and still chose to put herself in my life.
“I told you, Skye.” I’m pacing now. Getting angry. Voice raising. “Time and time again, I told you to walk away. You didn’t. You just kept right on coming.”
“Well you know what? I’m walking away now, Ethan.” She pushes past me, heading straight to the door.
I cross the room in two long strides and grab her arm. “You can’t go. Not now.”
She pulls her arm from me. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
“No. You can’t.” I grab her shoulders and pull her close. For all her fire and bravado, she seems so small. So fragile. I can’t believe I brought an asshole like Joe into her life. “You’re my responsibility now and I won’t let you go until I know you’re safe.”
She meets my gaze, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing. “I officially remove any and all responsibility you have for me. I’ll even walk my ass home.” She struggles against my grasp but I won’t let go of her shoulders.
“Bullshit. You’ll sit your ass down and stay put like you’ve been told.”
Skye glares at me, anger flashing in her eyes. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. No one does.” She pushes against my chest but I refuse to move. “And why the hell would I listen to you anyway?” she asks. “When you’ve not been honest with me from the beginning?”
“Because when I say you’re in danger, I’m being way the fuck honest. Sit. Down.” I point at the chair next to the dinner table.
“Fuck. You.”
No one talks to me like that. No one. I grab her arm and pull her over to the chair and push her into it. The thing rocks back on two legs and her eyes go wide. “You want me to fuck you?” I ask, eyes burning into hers, undoing my belt and sliding it out of the loops on my pants.
