Payback: A Vigilante Justice Novel

by Kristin Harte

  So I started the engine, and I drove away before I did something stupid like hop back out of my car and ask him for help.

  Not even the great Alder Kennard could save me from my fate.

  Chapter Three

  Alder

  Three days. I hadn’t seen Shye in three days, which did nothing but piss me off. That fact and a lack of control on my temper were how I found myself in The Jury Room, a bar and motel on the edge of town owned by my best friend. Also known as the man I was about to punch in the face.

  “Tell me.”

  Deacon shook his head, arms braced against the bar top between us. Unmovable. “Not happening.”

  I leaned over the bar, getting in his face. Deacon stood about six inches shorter but had a solid thirty pounds of muscle on me. With his longish, messy dark hair, bright green eyes, and a smile for everyone, the man fit the part of the small-town bar owner to a T. But he had a dark side not many people knew about. One I’d seen firsthand while serving with him in a unit of Green Berets in the Middle East. One I made sure never to bring up to people outside the Special Forces.

  He was also loyal as the day was long, just not always to me.

  “Which room?” I asked, my voice like gravel.

  “I don’t know what part of not happening you don’t understand, but let me explain. I’m not telling you where Shye is.”

  “Goddammit, Deacon. I pulled you out of too many fucking gunfights for you to bullshit me like this.”

  Grin gone, my best friend stood firm, refusing to back down. I trusted him with my life, had been through moments where we’d risked death for each other, but he wasn’t a pushover. Especially not with me. And he had a bit of an obsession for reminding me I wasn’t the boss of everything in town.

  “I know how much you like that little girl, man,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But that doesn’t outweigh my responsibility to her. She wants to hide, and I’m willing to bet she needs to. If it was anyone else looking for her, would you want me to tell them she was here?”

  Fucker had me there and he knew it, which was why he accepted my single chin raise as an assent.

  “Look,” he said, relaxing slightly. “I don’t know what’s up with her, but she asked for my help. I’m sure if she’d been in the right mind—or if I’d asked her—she’d have told me you could know where I stashed her. But she didn’t, and I’m not breaking her trust because you’ve got a hard-on for her.”

  “I don’t have a hard-on for her.” The lie sounded weak even to my own ears.

  Deacon didn’t buy it for a second. “I’m not looking at your dick, man, but I know you.”

  I sighed, glancing around the dimly lit bar for something, anything, to focus on. But there was nothing to see, nothing but the burn in my gut that she needed me and I couldn’t get to her. But Deacon could. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s as safe as I can make her.” His nod should have calmed me, but it didn’t. As safe as he could make her wasn’t completely guarded, watched, and impossible to get at—and we both knew it. Though, without knowing who or what she wanted to hide from, there wasn’t much we could do. Not beyond what he already was.

  “Keep your eyes open for anything, got it? I haven’t seen Shye in days, and it’s not like her to miss work. If she’s scared, I want to know why so I can fix it.”

  “But you don’t have a hard-on for her,” Deacon said, a slight smile breaking on his face, his eyes pinning me in place. “Well, from what I understand, she’s going back to work tonight.”

  That perked me up. “Usual shift?”

  “No clue. But she mentioned working tonight, so I’d have to assume it.”

  “Okay.” I glanced at the clock over the bar then pivoted on my heel and headed for the door. Six hours—I just had to wait another six hours to see her. But if he was wrong… “Hey, Deac?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. If she doesn’t go to work, I’ll talk to her. See if she minds you coming to see her. Now get the fuck out of my bar before the paying customers show up, you freeloading bastard.”

  Never mind the fact that he refused to let me pay for anything. I flipped him the bird on my way out the door, for old time’s sake. His laugh followed me out to the parking lot, which sat empty, the day too young for bar patrons to be showing up. The motel lot next door sat empty too. Shye must have been hiding her car. Smart, but frustrating. I wanted to know what she was so afraid of and how she was handling the stress of losing her home. Make sure she had everything she needed. I didn’t want to hurt her—I just needed to see that she was all right.

  Six fucking hours to burn.

  I headed back to the mill, my mind swirling. I hated not seeing Shye, not knowing if she was truly safe. I trusted Deacon—had since we’d both donned those green berets of the Special Forces—but he stood between me and my girl. That was a hard pill to swallow.

  Too pissed to deal with the guys on the floor, I climbed the stairs to my office overlooking the mill and hunkered down. Phone calls, emails, both business and dealing with those fucking Soul Suckers. I kept my computer on and my phone to my ear as much as possible so I could stop thinking about Shye.

  An impossibility, really.

  Bishop appeared five hours into my six-hour sentence, settling into the chair across from my desk. As usual, the Vice President of Sales and Marketing for Kennard Mills looked sharp and cocky, suited up as if meeting with important people. Which he might have been—I didn’t pay much attention to what he did. We sold a lot of fucking lumber, so I knew he handled his job just fine. He also simply could have been showing off. Bishop had a tendency to do that—it was all that chest-thumping SEAL training in him.

  “Workday’s over, bro,” he said, giving me that salesman smile that garnered him so much attention. Not from me, though.

  I kept typing, responding to an email for information on a specific client need. “Still working.”

  “Until the job is done, or until it’s time to head to the truck stop to see Shye?”

  “Both.” I clicked send and finally turned away from the screen, catching my brother’s eyes. “If she’s even there.”

  “She is.”

  An ache like claws scratching at my chest lit inside of me, followed by the absolute surety that the only way to rid myself of it was to go to her. Immediately.

  But I would never live that down, not with Bishop watching. So I anchored my ass in my chair, and I sat back as if I had all the time in the world to shoot the shit with him.

  “You’ve seen her?”

  “No, but I sent Finn for an early dinner. He loves their huckleberry pie.”

  Of course he did. “His addiction issue seems to have been transferred to sugar.”

  “Better than the alternative.”

  Truth. But I didn’t want to talk about Finn. “We got any leads on the identities of the local Soul Suckers yet?”

  “Not much. No one wants to speak out against them, but we’ll keep searching.”

  “I want names, addresses, arrest records… I want to know every fucking weak spot from the president down to their newest prospect.”

  “I don’t understand why we don’t just go their clubhouse and blow the place up.”

  Typical SEAL versus Green Beret mentality. He ran into combat first, using brute strength to deal with an enemy. I planned and plotted, using sabotage or subterfuge to accomplish my missions. And this was my mission, not his.

  “Because without knowing what’s coming for us, we could end up pinned down in a gunfight, or they could come after us in an unexpected way. If we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we can exploit their weak spots. Force them to their knees before we take them out.” I leaned forward, staring into his gray eyes to make sure he got my point. “But when we have all the info? We will blow their motherfucking place up.”

  Bishop nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes hard. Pissed off, like me. “We’re on it.”

  Yeah, we were. But those fuckers were harder to pi
n down than some terrorist sects. I’d get it done, though. Shye needed me to, whether she realized it or not.

  Speaking of which…

  “You in the office tomorrow?” I double-checked the clock before rising to my feet. Twenty minutes early, but I was done waiting.

  He gave me a quick head shake as he followed me toward the door. “Sales calls. Why? You need me?”

  “No, just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to see your ugly mug.” I dodged the punch he threw and headed down the stairs.

  “Hey, Alder?”

  “Yeah?”

  Frown heavy, Bishop looked down at me. “Be careful, all right? I don’t like dealing with this motorcycle club bullshit. These guys don’t respect the same things we do.”

  I nodded, something dark and twisty in my chest. Something too close to memories of bombings and burned-out houses filled with dead civilians to give it life, so I pushed it back down and focused on what needed to be done. On the present. “You too, man. Keep the circle tight.”

  “Always.”

  A final chin nod and a handful of stairs had me on the mill floor and headed for the door. Work issues, town trouble, and Soul Suckers shit could be forgotten for the moment. It was time to see my girl.

  Chapter Four

  Shye

  Slinging breakfast platters and country fried steak in a truck stop restaurant hadn’t been my ideal way to make a living, but it was what I’d fallen into when I’d moved to Justice three years ago. The hours sucked, the pay was virtually nonexistent, and the tips… Well, they were few and far between. But the job kept me busy, kept my mind off the horror story my life was quickly becoming, and gave me just enough to afford to be independent. Plus, I got to see Alder Kennard. A lot.

  The man himself walked in about three-quarters of the way through my shift, long after the dinner rush, when I was sadly the only waitress on the floor. Didn’t matter, though—I still stopped and stared at him. How could I not? He moved with a confidence that made most women’s heads turn. Mine had been turning in his direction since the first time we’d crossed paths right here in this truck stop. My first day on the job, really. Hell, maybe I stayed at this job because of Alder. If I left, I might not see him at all.

  That night, though—three days after the fire, after moving myself into the tiny motel attached to Deacon’s bar, and after running on adrenaline every second of the day, thinking a Soul Sucker would be showing up to drag me back to their clubhouse—I was too tired to deal with the crush that never went away. Too exhausted to hide my attraction. I might not have truly wanted to, but I needed to stay away from him.

  Something nearly impossible considering my position.

  “Good to see you, Alder. What can I get you?” I set a cup of coffee down in front of him along with a backup carafe, knowing he’d likely go through the entire thing before he left. Usually, I brought him each cup, stopping to chat, to take advantage of every second I could be in his presence. Tonight, that simply couldn’t happen.

  He eyed the carafe as if it might jump up and bite him. “Sunrise breakfast platter.”

  I nodded and spun, heading for the kitchen. Escaping. But he wasn’t about to let me go, apparently.

  “Shye.” The word came out as a demand more than anything, and I bristled.

  “Yeah?”

  “You going to ask me how I want my eggs?”

  Scrambled with a little cheese added in. The exact same way he’d been taking them since that first night we met. Regimented and habitual described Alder to a T, which I’d always assumed came from his military background. But hey…maybe the man just liked cheesy eggs.

  “Are you going to change the way you’ve been having them all these years?”

  A slow head shake, his lips pulling into an easy smile that might as well have been a kick to the gut. Good lord, the man was so damn handsome. He had to be ten years older than me, but it didn’t matter. He made my knees knock and my panties wet every time he looked my way.

  “No, ma’am.”

  And that voice? Those manners? So damn dangerous.

  “Then I’m not asking because I already know.” I hurried to the kitchen, ignoring the way his smile fell into a frown. I couldn’t with him right then. Couldn’t stand next to him and pretend he came into the restaurant for any other reason but the food. I didn’t have the strength to deal with my disappointment after losing so much already. Three days of hell, of feeling completely and utterly alone, had broken something inside of me. My boss had given me the time off so I could get myself settled, but that had been a bad plan. I preferred to work—to keep busy—to focus somewhere else. I’d spent three days obsessing over the one thing I wanted to forget about—my stepbrother would likely kill me the next time I saw him.

  Something I simply couldn’t think about a moment longer.

  So I put Alder’s order in, and I warmed the coffee cups of the few people left in the dining room, and I avoided the table in the corner where Alder always sat.

  Until I couldn’t anymore.

  “Sunrise breakfast platter.” I set his plate of eggs, hash browns, and bacon down first, slipping the smaller one with his toast next to his cup. “You need more coffee?”

  He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the carafe. “I think you got that covered for tonight, honey.”

  Yeah. Yeah, I did. “If there’s nothing else, then…”

  But Alder’s big, rough hand sliding over mine made the world stop. Made everything else around me disappear. This was…new.

  “You okay, Shye?”

  Concerned. He sounded concerned about me, as if he really cared.

  “I’m fine.” Even to my own ears, I didn’t sound fine. And Alder seemed to know it.

  “I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been at work.”

  He noticed. He always noticed when I missed a shift, not that it happened often. “My boss gave me a few days off. Because of the fire.”

  His lips tightened, and that jaw tic I always wanted to run a finger over and smooth fired up. “You get yourself sorted over at Deacon’s? Get a place to stay?”

  I nodded my answer, too stunned that he’d even thought about me these past few days to speak.

  He sighed and squeezed my hand, looking oddly at war with himself. “Good. That’s good. You’ll be safe there.”

  As if I’d be safe anywhere with the Soul Suckers possibly after me.

  “I should get back to work,” I whispered, pulling my hand from his. Wishing the tingles his touch left behind would both never end and stop immediately. Why did this man make me feel so damn much, and why couldn’t I get myself to accept that he’d never be mine?

  Alder simply nodded and grabbed a fork, refocusing on his dinner instead of me. Giving me an escape. One I wished I didn’t have to take. But work called—people needed more coffee and toast, to know the specials, and to ask if we had any of the huckleberry pie we were famous for left over. And I had to live my life outside of the dream world where Alder Kennard and I were anything more than acquaintances. And where I wasn’t a pawn in the Soul Suckers’ twisted games.

  * * *

  When the dining area quieted, when all that was left was a small group of high schoolers snacking on buffalo wings plus one Alder Kennard nursing a cup of coffee, I headed to the back to clean up. The overnight cook and waitress would be coming soon, and then I could go back to my shitty motel room and hide. Being on the floor at work—so open and unprotected—had left me slightly shaky and sick. At least, until Alder had walked in. Somehow, I knew I was safe with him around. He’d never let anything happen to me. I wished I could bottle the comfort he inspired and take that essence with me so I could actually get some sleep instead of tossing and turning all night.

  Or just have him in my bed.

  Not happening. Never fucking happening.

  I walked into the empty kitchen, sighing at the silence. The cook had left for his break almost half an hour before, telling me to come find him if
customers came. That was fine—in fact, it worked in my favor. I needed time alone, a difficult thing to come across at my job. We’d have guests all through the night, but the worst of my shift was over. The few customers I might see before leaving would be onesie-twosies—truck drivers, cops from Rock Falls, and the occasional family passing through on their way someplace else.

  Maybe it was time I did the same.

  I’d never thought about running before—not really. Sure, after my dad had died, I’d wondered if there was someplace better for me. Someplace safer. But I’d already made a mistake that had gotten me into hot water, already owed a debt I didn’t know how to repay at such a young age, and the Soul Suckers were a national club. No matter where I ran, I knew they’d find me. They still would. No one walked away from them with a debt hanging over their heads. So I’d been moved to Justice, and I’d watched that mountain road for any sign of unusual activity to report to them. I’d worked to pay my debt.

  I’d failed spectacularly, though. And eventually, they’d come to make sure I knew it.

  I had only a handful of dishes left to load when Alder came through the swinging door from the dining area. So tall, so wide, he took up all the space in the little kitchen. Stole all the air, too. I had to remind myself to breathe when he was that close. Had to force my eyes away from his form, as well. The world funneled down to nothing but him and the stiff frown on his face when he was near, the way his blue eyes watched me. Inspected me. As if he truly saw me.

  Something I couldn’t allow.

  I forced myself to look away. “What are you doing back here?”

  “Your other guests thought it’d be a fun idea to leave without paying.” He set a small stack of bills on the counter beside me. “I made sure to dissuade them from that idea.”