One Wild Night

by A. L. Jackson

  Nikki sent me a wink. “You know, considering we’re best friends and all. I’m just envious of the sheer number of them.”

  She feigned a sad shake of her head. “It’s a little greedy if you ask me. No one person needs that many orgasms.”

  “Oh, believe me, I need them all.” Lillith was both fighting a grin and the redness on her cheeks when she said it, once again looking behind her to the construction site.

  It was a large section of land cordoned off by a chain-link fence, the frame of a massive building just starting to take form.

  I smiled at her dreamy look. It was impossible not to like them. They seemed polar opposites; yet, I was unable to imagine one without the other.

  Lillith turned back to me almost reluctantly. “We’d better get out of your way so you can get back to work, but we wanted to stop in and introduce ourselves. Honestly, if you need anything, let us know.”

  “I’m glad you did, and I definitely will.”

  “Oh.” Nikki’s eyes lit up. “It’s Friday!”

  My brow rose in question.

  She looked at me as if it should be obvious. “Um . . . hello? Friday Funday? That means you totally have to come out with us tonight.”

  “Really?”

  Okay, maybe I was a little overenthusiastic. But I missed Macy like crazy and the truth was, I needed that—companionship and friendship. The true kind. The feeling of belonging when the last couple of days had made me feel as if I’d stepped out of bounds, directly into a place I knew so intimately but still so far removed.

  Lillith nodded. “Oh, good idea.”

  “Of course it’s a good idea,” Nikki shot back.

  Lillith widened her eyes at me. “For the record, if you say no, chances are Nikki will just come drag you out anyway. It’s best to just concede and go along for the ride. God knows, I do.” It was all soft, playful affection.

  “At least you know what is good for you,” Nikki tossed at her before she grabbed me by the wrist and shook my arm around. “Come with us. Please! I already feel like I know you, and . . . well, I think that you might be the missing three in our amigo. You complete us.”

  With both index fingers, she drew a heart in the air.

  “See?” Lillith asked. “Just go with the crazy.”

  I grinned. I was totally going with the crazy. Forget the fears. It’d been eleven years. Who would even recognize me? And if they did, why would they even still care?

  A shiver trembled through me.

  What if they did?

  Shaking it off, I smiled. I could do this. I wanted to do this. “That sounds like fun. Where should I meet you and at what time?”

  Nikki slung her arm around my shoulder, and I walked with them toward the entrance. “Eight at Olive’s. It’s on the corner of Macaber and 5th.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you know this place well?”

  Lillith widened telling eyes. “That’s because Ollie owns it. This one can’t stay away.”

  Nikki sighed dramatically. “Ollie. Hottest man in all the land. Friend-zoner extraordinaire. But one day, I will make him see what he’s missing.”

  “Ah, things are beginning to make sense now,” I said.

  Nikki feigned sadness with the grim shake of her head. “No, Rynna, men make absolutely no sense whatsoever. There is no sense to be found.”

  I laughed. God, I really liked them.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” I said.

  Lillith pushed open the glass door. It was smudged with its own layer of greasy dust, and the white logo on the front claiming Pepper’s Pies was barely visible. Still, I could read it as if I’d drawn it myself. It was a shaker tipped on its side, flecks of pepper pouring over a tumble of pot pies and sweet pies and pizzas.

  Gramma’s offerings had always been unique and perfectly peculiar.

  Just like the woman behind it.

  I was washed with another wave of warmth, and I couldn’t help but think I was supposed to return. That no matter what the past held, this was where I had always belonged.

  We stepped out into the hot Alabama summer day, and I blinked against the sudden glare of sunlight and the rush of sticky humidity.

  Clouds threatened in the distance, building in the sultry heat.

  Lillith hummed with a near imperceptible bounce on her toes. Her attention locked on the small group of men across the street, who’d gathered in a circle just inside the chain-link fence.

  Most of them were in work clothes: jeans and long-sleeved shirts and boots. Though a single man with his back to us wore a black suit and a yellow hard hat.

  Nikki leaned in and mock-whispered in my ear, “Suit-guy would be the fiancé, Broderick Wolfe. You know, the one who constantly has this one’s panties on fire. Look at her . . . she can hardly contain herself.”

  I bit back laughter, my whisper just as faked. “How long until she goes running over there?”

  “Oh, I’d say about two point five seconds.”

  Lillith swatted at my arm, and God, for the first time since I’d returned, I felt truly, completely as if I were home.

  “Stop it, you two. Like I don’t hear you over there.”

  We both laughed. Nikki dropped her arm and moved to face me, pulling her cell phone from where it was tucked in her back pocket. “What’s your number in case you get lost?” she said with a grin hugging her mouth as she dipped her head to look down. Her fingers were poised to input my number.

  I almost got the entire thing out before my mouth went dry and the numbers came to a sluggish, sticky halt, my tongue unable to form a sound.

  The man standing next to Broderick had turned around and was looking in our direction.

  The smile slid right off his gorgeous face when he saw me staring at him. But somehow, the transformation into the hard scowl was just as mesmerizing.

  Just as hypnotic.

  Maybe more so.

  Because I felt weightless beneath his glare.

  Fluttery and uneasy.

  Mesmerized.

  Those sage eyes were so hard and intense. Capturing me. Holding me hostage. So dark they should have held the power to conceal the fire that raged in the depths, scored like markers in his spirit.

  But I saw it. Felt it where it stuck in the heated, stagnant air.

  The pain buried underneath.

  Nikki lifted her head in question, her fingers ready for the last two numbers. “Hello?”

  Snapping out of it, I cleared my throat. “Oh . . . um, sorry, six-two.”

  “Got it,” she said before she gave me a salute and backed away. “Eight o’clock, my friend. Don’t make me hunt you down. You know I will.”

  I tore my attention from the man pinning me to the spot from the other side of the street. His hold was just as heavy as if he were right in front of me, physically restraining me with those massive hands.

  “I’ll be there,” I told her.

  “You’d better be.” She winked.

  Lillith squeezed my hand gently before she backed away to cross the street. “It was great to finally meet you, Rynna. This is going to be good. I can just feel it. I’m so glad we took the chance and stopped in.”

  She said it without realizing the impact her words had on me. The way they flooded me with warmth and hope. The way they nudged the aspirations at the root of who I was, freeing them from where they’d been trapped deep inside.

  My gaze roamed, drawn back to the man who hadn’t moved an inch. Hostility rippled off him like heat waves.

  I had no idea why I felt it. Compelled. Driven toward a man that seemed so rigid, so dangerous to my sanity.

  But I felt it. He needed someone to revive his faith just as desperately as I did.

  Because looking at him?

  I suddenly knew he had none of it. That something had gone dim inside him.

  That was the thing about chances.

  We didn’t know their outcomes.

  If we’d succeed or if we’d fail.

  It di
dn’t matter.

  I had to take a chance on him.

  Want more of Rex and Rynna?

  Read On

  Part II

  Fault Lines

  Rebecca Shea

  Prologue

  10 Years Ago

  My fingers dig into the brown dirt between the patches of dead grass that used to once be a lush front yard. A jagged stone cuts into the soft flesh of my knee as I try to get control of the involuntary lurching of my stomach, which has me crippled on all fours.

  Tears fall in streams, and I gasp for breath as I hear the sound of heavy footsteps near me.

  “Frances—”

  “Get away from me!” I scream at the soft voice.

  “It’s not—”

  “I said get the hell away from me!” My stomach clenches against another wave of nausea as I hear her footprints begin to move away. “Goooooo!” I shout at her again.

  I manage to look over my shoulder and see Whitney Carson’s long blonde hair swaying as she walks quickly back across the cul-de-sac to her piss yellow, beat-to-hell Mustang. I barely make out the swell of her belly as she slides into the driver’s seat and slams the door behind her. The roar of the engine tells me she’s leaving.

  One last heave and there is nothing left for my stomach to expel, leaving me with only my tears. My throat burns, and my breaths come in small gasps.

  I hear the creak of the old screen door and my mama's worn shoes come into sight just before I feel her arms around me. “Baby girl, what’s wrong? We weren’t expecting you home from school until tomorrow…” Her voice is quiet, yet panicked as she kneels next to me, her white uniform dress getting dirty.

  I finished my finals early so that I could come home and surprise Cole and my mom, but the surprise was all mine. “Mama,” I cry between ragged breaths. “I came home early to surprise you and—”

  “Stop," she cuts me off, looking over my shoulder behind me. "Let’s get you inside. If this has anything to do with that girl that’s been coming around, he’s not worth your tears. You’re going to put your chin up and enjoy your summer.” She tugs at my arm in hopes to get me to budge.

  I shake my head back and forth violently. “No. I can’t stay here,” I manage through my tears. I can't stay and watch this happen. I can't stay and watch them.

  “What do you mean? Where would you go?” Her voice grows with concern.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t stay here.” The hot summer air hangs heavy around us, and sweat beads along my forehead at my hairline. The thought of Cole touching Whitney Carson causes my stomach to flip again, and I dry heave as I pinch my eyes closed.

  Mom rubs her hand over my arm as I try to gain my composure and move from all fours to sitting on the dirt. “Well, come inside until we figure this out.” Her voice is soft and sad. “I’ve always told you he was—”

  “Please stop—" I cut her off now, not wanting to talk about Cole with her.

  I hear her deep sigh. “Come on. I’ll run you a hot bath. We need to get you cleaned up.”

  The tears still fall in waves as my heart breaks with each step I take toward our house and away from Cole Ryan. As I think about it, the last few months begin to make sense. I sensed Cole pulling away from me. He'd become distant, not returning my calls or answering text messages. Mama called me and had told me about the rumors she'd heard, but we chose to chalk them up to small town gossip. Crescent Ridge is just that, a small town where no one has anything else to do but talk about other people and spread rumors.

  Suddenly, realization hits me that the one person I trusted more than anyone in the world betrayed me. He’s been my best friend since I was eleven, my first crush, my first love, my first everything. No other person will ever etch himself so boldly into my history as Cole Ryan did. No other person held the cards to destroy me like Cole Ryan did. And did he ever.

  I bite my tongue, tasting the slightest hint of blood as Mama walks me up the raggedy old front porch of our house. “Keep walking, baby girl.” She guides me through the front door. "Keep your chin held high," she says quietly, the screen door slamming hard behind us.

  She looks at me with sympathetic eyes and her voice cracks as she speaks. “Now you can fall apart, Frances. Don’t ever let him see you crumble; don't give him that control. He is not worth your tears.”

  And crumble is what I do as I sink to the faded wood floors of our living room, Mama rocking me in her lap, her fingers stroking my hair and wiping my tears. I cry and scream for the love I believed in, for the boy who owned my heart, and the loss of the one person I long for—the one person I had planned to spend my last breath with.

  Mama holds me for hours as my tears come and go. At the first hints of the morning sunlight, I peel myself from Mama’s lap, my head pounding from the hours of crying. I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and press the name of the only other friend I have.

  “Ash.” My voice breaks and I barely make out what she's saying, but one thing is certain. I'm getting the hell out of Crescent Ridge and never looking back. “I’m coming,” I tell her.

  Between my tears and gasping breaths, I disconnect my call and see Mama swipe at the tears on her aging cheeks. She sat here all night comforting me as I lay helpless in her lap. In the end, she’s the one person who believes in me and has loved me unconditionally, and here I am about to leave her behind. Leave everything I know and love behind, without a second thought. For good.

  I know that when I drive away from here today, I’ll never be back—I can’t come back. I’m leaving my broken heart behind, along with the only man I’ve ever love.

  I toss my bag and one small box of belongings from my childhood bedroom in the trunk of my car and slide into the driver's seat of my old Honda. Without a second thought, I put the car in drive and glance just once out my rearview mirror as I pull away. The last thing I see is Cole Ryan, hunched over the paint-chipped railing of his front porch as I drive away from Crescent Ridge, leaving him, my past, and my mama behind.

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  Standing in front of the floor length mirror, I glance at my reflection. My long brown hair falls in loose waves just above my shoulders. I pull my fingers through the waves, taming the ends to fall carefully into place before running my nervous hands down the length of my black dress, willfully brushing away any wrinkles.

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and try to will my erratic heart into settling down.

  “Ready?” Ted calls to me from the bedroom.

  “Almost,” I answer him and open my eyes.

  I reach for the diamond tennis bracelet on the vanity and fasten it around my wrist. One last look in the mirror and I meet Ted in the bedroom where he's been waiting for me.

  Tall with dark hair just starting to gray at the temples, Ted is the epitome of striking. Wearing his custom charcoal gray suit, his blue eyes stand out against his tan skin. If he weren’t a lawyer, he would be gracing the covers of a men’s fashion magazine—he's that beautiful.

  “You look stunning,” he says with a soft smile. “The cameras are going to eat you up.”

  I shake my head and blush. “That’s not what this is about. I want the guilty verdict. I want justice for those families—”

  “And you’ll get it,” he cuts me off. “I’m so damn proud of you.” He walks across the wood floor, wrapping himself around me. “You never cease to amaze me, Frances.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I was disappointed when you left the firm, but now I understand why you did it. I think I get it—it just fits you.”

  I smile at his acceptance. “You know that the public sector was where I always wanted to end up.”

  He nods and runs his hands up and down my arms.

  I lean into him and wrap my arms around his waist. His embrace is where I always find comfort. “I will always be grateful for my time at the firm. The experience I received there was immeasurable…and it led me to you.” I pull back and stand on my tiptoes to press a
kiss to his soft lips.

  With his arms wrapped tightly around me in return, he releases a long sigh and mumbles against my lips. “As much as I could stand here and kiss you all morning, we need to get going or you’re going to be late. You look great. Get your nerves in check and walk with your chin held high.” He releases me.

  I nod at him with a shaky smile. Ted always knows how to calm me. I grab my purse from the bench at the end of our bed and follow him to the car.

  The morning is a blur as my stomach twists and turns in the hours leading up to the verdict. I busy myself by reading my closing argument over and over—even though I’d memorized it weeks ago and presented it to the jury three days ago.

  We finally got word late yesterday afternoon that a verdict had been reached. The jury deliberated for two and half days…two and half of the longest days of my life. How selfish, I think to myself as I turn around and look at the Morrison and Longmire families sitting behind me. The loss of a child will truly destroy you.

  I’ve waited two and half days for a verdict, and they’ve been waiting for two years. It took us two years to build the case we needed to bring Terry Nelson to trial for the sexual assault and murder of their two beautiful little girls, Sadie Morrison and Eva Longmire. Two six-year-old girls who were best friends and in the same kindergarten class. Two little girls who had their entire futures ahead of them, gone at the hands of a vicious predator. Two families that will never be the same again, ever.

  Mr. Longmire nods once at me and offers a tight smile. I’ve seen him age significantly in these last two years, more than a man his age should. His hair is now graying and his skin is ashen. I've never seen a pair of eyes that hold as much sadness as his. He's worn, and tired, but hanging on for his baby girl. Losing a child in the most brutal of ways will do that to a man.

  I turn back to my notes just as the defense team arrives. I have to tuck my hands underneath the table to hide the shaking. The defendant, Terry Nelson, is brought into the courtroom and placed at the defense table. I glance over my shoulder just in time to catch an encouraging smile from Ted as the bailiff enters with the jury. My heart pounds wildly as we all rise and Judge Vincent arrives and takes a seat.