Another Life: Another Life Series #1

by Jasmine Denton

  “No!” she exclaimed, infuriated. “I don’t want you to do anything besides keep your mouth shut.”

  She turned on her heel, heading for the exit, but he called after her. “You can’t be this pissed off just because I told my best friend a pretty girl kissed me last night. In fact, I’d be willing to bet this didn’t have much to do with me at all.”

  She whirled around to face him again. “I can’t believe my eyes. It’s a man not taking responsibility.”

  “Are we still talking about me?”

  “It’s all of you!” she exclaimed, fed up. “You, my brothers, and every guy I’ve met. You’re all the same. You don’t give a damn who you talk about, or who you use or abandon. None of you care until it’s too late!”

  Again, he was speechless. Staring at her, his protests died on his lips and a look of guilt crossed his face.

  Seeing that look, the hint of compassion, Cameron backed down, unable to believe she’d ranted this much to a total stranger. She walked over to the door and pushed it open. “Just forget it. And don’t tell anybody I came by here, think you can manage that?”

  Walking out, she let the door swing shut and separate them.

  ***

  Chad and Sadie lounged on the futon in his small living room, eating ice cream and watching a game show. The girl had been his friend for the past five years, and he didn’t know what he’d do without her. She was cute enough, with auburn hair pulled into a side braid. Sadie’s long, slender legs were stretched out across Chad’s lap as they casually watched TV together. But Chad wasn’t focused on the show.

  “You look a million miles away,” Sadie commented. “What gives?”

  Chad shrugged, reluctantly admitting, “I was an ass to my sister tonight.”

  “Already?” Sadie asked, her eyes bulging in exaggeration. “Why?”

  He felt another stab of guilt. “She found something. An Amy-related something.”

  Sadie let out a slow whistle. “Poor girl. Didn’t even know what she was walking in to.”

  “Hey,” Chad said, shooting her a glare.

  “What?” Sadie asked. “When it comes to my cousin, you’re a one-man firing squad. It’s duck and cover or else.”

  This only made him feel worse. Taking a bite of his ice cream, he suddenly asked, “You’re a girl, right?”

  Sadie chuckled. “Thanks for noticing.”

  Chad laughed. “No…I mean…obviously, you’re a girl. So can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why would a girl kiss a guy she didn’t even know?”

  “Why?” Sadie asked, giving him a teasing look. “Someone plant one on you?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “No, not me. Shane.”

  Sadie tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Well, it could be because he looks like Shane.”

  Chad grimaced. “Gross. Since when do you have the hots for Shane?”

  “I don’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a total fox. Why do you care if some girl kisses him, anyway?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t. If the girl hadn’t been my sister.”

  Sadie gave a mock gasp. “Oooh…awkward.”

  “Tell me about,” Chad groaned. “Listening to my friend talk this girl up all day…and then surprise. Turns out to be Cameron. I felt like I needed a shower.”

  Sadie giggled. “Shane still have all his teeth?”

  “For now.” He dug into the icecream with his spoon, thinking. “I mean it was just a kiss…but still. It’s what happened after that that bugs me. She just ran off. Didn’t even get his name, or give him hers, or anything. Why would she do that?”

  Sadie shrugged. “Maybe she was embarrassed. Or lonely.”

  “Or…” Chad said. “Maybe she’s a slut.”

  She punched him in the arm. “Chad!”

  “Well,” he said defensively. “You’ve seen the way she dresses.”

  “So?”

  “Well,” he said, like he’s proven his point.

  “I can’t believe you’re saying that about your sister.”

  “I can’t believe my sister acts that way.”

  Sadie stabbed into her ice cream with the spoon, shooting Chad a scolding look. “When you say things like that, it reminds me just how much of an ass you can be sometimes.”

  “Hey, I might be an ass, but I’ve got a knack for reading people. Remember that painter you dated?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she sighed in defeat. “You were the one who told me he was on drugs.”

  “And the dude we just fired at the store. I told Shane he’d steal from the register, but did he listen? Nope. Now he’s got to fill in until we can find someone else, but if he’d just listened to me, he might’ve been able to keep working on the cars.”

  “So you write people off and then tend to be accurate. What’s your point?

  “Cameron’s trouble, that’s my point,” he said. “She’s my sister, and she’s trouble. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  She shrugged. “The same thing you did when Shane’s dark side reared its ugly head a few years ago.”

  “I can’t beat it out of her,” he said around a mouthful of ice-cream.

  Sadie giggled. “I meant wait it out, muscles.”

  Chad laughed, returning his attention to the ice cream. “It’d be a lot easier to do if I knew what made her tick.”

  ***

  Lying in bed, Cameron stared up at the ceiling. On the bed next to her, there was an empty bottle of Vodka. Over the course of a long, depressing night, the edge of her tank-top had gotten pushed up a little, revealing a yellowing bruise on her stomach and a tattoo of a black rose around her belly button. Poking the bruise, she winced a little and decided it would be awhile before it completely healed. One of the drawbacks of being kicked with steel toed shoes, the thought grimly.

  Sounds slowly drifted in from beyond the closed door. The family was awake, making breakfast. Laughing, talking. Reminding her just how much of an outsider she was.

  She picked up the bottle and put it to her lips before she realized it was empty. Rolling her eyes, she sat up and tossed the bottle into the trashcan. Standing up, she wrapped a housecoat around her body to cover any bruises that couldn’t be explained by the car accident. Then she opened her bedroom door and walked into the kitchen.

  Sam, Chad and Bela were eating breakfast around the table, talking and laughing quietly. Feeling groggy and hung over, Cameron gave a cautious glance at the strangers huddled around the table, then walked past them to the coffee maker.

  “Is that…” Sam sniffed the air. “Vodka?” Turning to Cameron, he studied her with that penetrating stare of his. “Were you drinking again?”

  Pouring a cup of coffee, Cameron rolled her eyes and kept her back to him. “It helps me sleep, okay?”

  “At least you weren’t driving this time,” Chad piped up from the table.

  Cameron dumped a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee and stirred. “Well, that would be kind of hard, since my car is still in the shop. Any word on when it’s going to be done?”

  “Actually, yeah,” Sam said. He motioned to an empty chair. “Grab a plate and have a seat. We’ll talk about it.”

  “I’m not much of a breakfast person.”

  “Why?” Chad asked. “Cuz you can’t drink it?”

  She shot him a glare the same time Sam gave him a scolding look. “Have a seat anyway,” Sam said to her.

  Reluctantly, she took the empty chair next to Sam.

  “I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of cash.”

  That, he was right about. After gas, cigarettes and her ever-growing alcohol expenses, she only had about three hundred left. “How much for the repairs?”

  “Fifteen hundred.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “That’s more than I paid for the car!”

  “He had to replace the whole front end, plus some important parts,” Chad explained. “And, he’s not even charging you for l
abor. It’s a good deal.”

  “He who?” Cameron asked. “I thought you were the one working on it.”

  “I tried, but it was too screwed up for my expertise. I had to hand the job over to Shane.”

  Great, Cameron thought. Now the big-mouthed pervert had his hands all over her car, too.

  “Luckily for you,” Sam said, shifting the subject. “I talked to Shane this morning. He’s willing to let you work off what you owe.”

  “I bet he is,” she mumbled.

  Sam looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “I meant in his store. It’s a good opportunity for you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” she said. “I’ll come up with the money some other way.”

  “How?” Sam asked. “Weaving straw into gold? Making a deal with Rumpelstiltskin?”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  He took a bite of eggs, waiting until he’d swallowed before he continued. “It isn’t about the money, Cameron. If it was, I’d pay for the damages myself. The point is I think it’ll be good for you.”

  “To what?” she asked defensively. “Ring up merchandise all day? Pump gas for people?”

  “To have some responsibility,” he said. “A set schedule. People depending on you. For instance, he’s expecting you in at nine this morning.”

  She gawked at him. “I have to start this morning?”

  He nodded. “In about an hour and a half.”

  “Sam, this is unbelievable. You can’t just make decisions like this without even checking with me.”

  “You had something better to do today?” he asked, meeting her eyes with a challenging look.

  When he looked at her like that, she felt like he was her boss. “I might’ve,” she said stubbornly. “You didn’t even ask.”

  “You could just say thank you,” Chad said, standing and taking his empty plate to the sink. “There were people who actually applied for that position and were passed over so it could go to you.”

  Cameron leaned against her chair, sulking as she looked down into her coffee cup again. After ranting to Shane last night, she never wanted to see him again, let alone work for him.

  As Chad left, Sam turned to her. “I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes a little. But I wouldn’t do this unless I really thought it was what was best for you.”

  She bit her lip to keep from saying that he’d never thought about her best interests before.

  “Go get ready,” he said. “I’ll drop you off on my way to the station.”

  Chapter Four

  Cameron walked into the store, searching for Shane. She spotted him at the refreshments counter, putting fresh pastries into a display case. Marching up to him, she placed her hands on her hips.

  “Pretty smooth,” she said. “Talking my brother into enslaving me here.”

  He turned, and seeing her gave a wry smile. “Morning Cameron. I’d ask how you’re doing, but I can see you’re pissed off as usual.”

  “So what’s the deal here?” she asked. “Plan to win me over while I work off my debt? I already told you. That kiss is as far as you’re ever going to get with me.”

  “Easy on the conspiracy theories, sweetheart.” He gave her a wink as he folded up an empty donut box. “Pretty soon you’ll be making hats out of tinfoil.”

  “Seriously,” she said, crossing her arms. “What’ll it take to get me out of this?”

  He turned to her. “You got fifteen hundred bucks? I’ll take a check or credit card.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Then you’re stuck here.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “But don’t worry princess. I doubt you’ll break any nails.”

  He smirked at her as he headed toward the back of the store, motioning for her to follow. He went inside what looked like a cluttered, disorganized office and started rummaging through a box in the corner.

  She lingered in the doorway, watching him as he came up with an ugly red vest.

  “Mandatory uniform,” he explained, tossing it to her.

  She caught the vest, and then held it up to give it a look. Wrinkling her nose at the ugly red polyester. “Then why aren’t you wearing it?”

  “Perks of being the owner’s son,” he said.

  “Well, that explains why you’re suddenly my boss.”

  “You can hate me all you want, but this wasn’t my idea. This was a favor to Sam.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart, right?”

  He glanced at her. “Sam asks me to do something and I do it. The man practically raised me.”

  She felt a flare of jealousy, as if someone had taken her place on the swing-set multiplied by ten. “Well, he could never be bothered to visit me, but hey, at least he was there for you and Chad.”

  He looked over at her, seeming thrown off. “Um…I…”

  Holding up a hand to stop him, she sighed, “Oh please. Don’t even bother. Let’s move on, shall we?”

  “As you wish.” Raising his eyebrows—as if to indicate she was a handful, she presumed—he reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. Shoving some items to the side, he cleared off a space for her at the desk and put the paper down, laying a pen at its side. “I need you to fill that out to make everything official.”

  Looking at the application, she felt her heart sink in dread. Even if she’d been willing to work here before, she couldn’t now. If her name suddenly popped up as employed here, Detective Machado would be hot on her heels.“I…I can’t do that,” she said finally.

  He glanced up at her, looking confused. “It’s simple enough. Skip the references. I just need your name and social security number.”

  “I said I can’t, okay?” she snapped. Trying to put a lid on her emotions, she calmly added, “I never memorized my social security number and I left all of those documents at my aunt’s house.”

  He picked up the phone. “Maybe Sam knows it.”

  She moved forward, placing her finger on the hang up button. “Look, it’s under the table or not at all. Okay?”

  Locking eye contact, she waited, desperately hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions, or try to track down the number. Hoping this explanation would be good enough.

  The phone still cradled against his ear, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Why?”

  “I just don’t want you bothering my brother while he’s at work, that’s all.”

  Putting the phone away, he stood. “Fine. Under the table for now.”

  She followed him back up to the front counter as he explained, “Consider this your training day. You’ll probably handle a customer or two, but mostly I’ll be doing all the work. Sound fair to you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They waited for customers behind the register while Shane went over basic store procedures like mopping and cleaning bathrooms. Two hours later, they hadn’t seen a single person.

  “Does anybody even shop here?” Cameron asked, flipping a page in the magazine on her lap.

  “Mornings are slow,” Shane explained. “At least for the store. The garage is usually packed.” Turning, he looked through the small window that joined the gas station to the garage with an almost longing look to his eyes. She assumed the view was the same as it had been last time she’d looked—a cluttered mess of parts and tires. From the store, they could hear the loud clanks of Chad working. Though it didn’t seem the least bit appealing to her, Shane seemed to look through that small window with a surprising amount of longing.

  “You want to be in there, don’t you?” Cameron asked.

  He shrugged, but she could tell it was true.

  “I hear you’re the best.”

  “I do okay,” he said, shuffling his deck of cards. “What about you? What are you good at?”

  Cameron thought for a moment, but could only come up with one thing. “Sex.”

  He chuckled, as if she was joking, but she was dead serious. Spreading his cards out into another solitaire spread, he tried to focus on the game.


  “What’s with the cards?” she asked.

  “I like to keep my hands busy.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged again, but something in his eyes told her there was a reason. Quiet, he played a few cards before he spoke again. “So where’d you get the shiner?”

  Her hand paused with the page in mid-flip. Stupid bruises took too long to heal, she thought bitterly. “The freaking airbag,” she said, laughing, but the sound fell flat and echoed in the empty store. “Sucks, right?”

  He only smirked. “Did that excuse work on your brothers?”

  “Excuse?” she asked, making sure to use her innocent, puzzled tone.

  Turning to her, he tilted his head to study the bruise around her eye. “Airbags usually hit you square in the face. The damage is over a bigger area. Your nose, both eyes. That…” he pointed to her cheekbone. “That is not from any airbag.”

  She remembered the pain that’d shot through her face when that fist struck her cheek, and the way it made her ears ring. She’d fallen to the ground, splattering against the mud. Fighting soft tears of pain and anger, she’d fumbled around in the dark for something to save her…

  “So what really happened?” he asked.

  Shane’s voice sucked her from the flashback and into reality. Thankfully, when she looked over at him she saw he’d turned back to the card game. At least he didn’t see the magazine page rattling in her hand. “Geeze,” she said, laughing. “What’s with all the questions?”

  He shrugged. “I’m nosey.”

  She slammed the magazine closed and tossed it onto the counter. “You seem to know an awful lot about bruises.”

  His hand paused as he laid a red Jack down on top of a red Queen, and she knew she’d hit a nerve.

  “Someone might get curious about where that information comes from.”

  He turned to look at her. “If someone’s curious, she should ask.”

  She felt jittery under his steady, challenging gaze and looked away. Grabbing a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Windex out from under the counter, she headed over to wash the windows. In her iciest tone possible, she said, “Maybe she doesn’t care.”