Hitz (Wild Irish Silence Book 3)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “Daddy, Mom’s car won’t start,” Chelsea said. “And before you say anything, we tried to call a mechanic but it’s Sunday.”

  Skyler rolled his eyes. “Great,” he said, but he went into the house. Theresa was sitting on the couch, and when he walked in she looked at him, but she said nothing at first.

  “Can you look at it?” she asked after a few moments, her tone almost friendly.

  “Yeah, I’ll look at it,” Skyler said, heading to his room. He put on an old shirt and went out to the garage.

  An hour later, Theresa went outside to see what was happening. Skyler was leaning over the engine. When she walked up, he looked at her. He had grease on his face, so his light-colored eyes seemed to stand out more. Theresa remembered how attracted she had been to him because of his eyes.

  “Do you ever have this engine cleaned?” he asked.

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “Guess that answers my question. Have you been having any problems starting it?”

  “Sometimes.” Theresa was relieved that they seemed to be able to deal on some sort of civil level.

  Skyler nodded, checking a few more things. “How ’bout the oil—you ever change that?”

  “I learned some things from you, Skyler. Yes, I have it changed every three thousand miles.”

  “Good girl,” he said, almost smiling at her. “Well, I think it’s your starter assembly. I have to see if I can get the part, and then I have to pull the old one and put the new one in.”

  “Which means what?”

  “Which means…” Skyler sighed. “Get comfortable.”

  Theresa nodded. Skyler left a few minutes later, after washing up, to look for the part. He got back after forty-five minutes. He worked on the car over the next four hours. At one point Theresa brought him out a beer, feeling a little guilty that he was outside in the ninety-four-degree heat, working on her car.

  Skyler stood when she walked up, taking the beer gratefully. He leaned against the car to drink it. He’d discarded the shirt by now, and his jeans were extremely dirty, as well as his hands, torso, and face. He reminded Theresa of one of those guys in the TV ads for beer, looking incredible even though they were grimy from head to toe.

  “I really appreciate this, Skyler,” she said.

  Skyler nodded, turning back to the car as he handed her the bottle. Theresa stood watching him for a few minutes, then walked back into the house. She wondered if he should really be out in the heat, considering his heart attack; she didn’t know if being overheated would cause problems. She had to admit, he certainly didn’t look like a forty-eight-year-old man at this point. He looked more like the twenty-nine-year-old she’d married.

  They’d met through mutual friends at the police department. Her girlfriend was determined to get her set up with a cop, since she dated cops. Theresa didn’t like the idea, turning down numerous blind dates Angela set up. Then Angela started dating Mike Blackwood, and Mike’s partner was Skyler J. Kristiani. Blackwood wanted to score points with Angela, so he conned Skyler into going out with Angela’s friend.

  Theresa had assumed if this guy needed to be set up, he had to be ugly or something. She had just about fallen over dead when she met Skyler. He was gorgeous, charming, and very easygoing. He didn’t act like the cops she’d met before. She didn’t even realize for the first four or so times they went out that he carried his weapon off duty, because he was so casual about it. Most of the cops she’d met had made a point of showing their guns off at every opportunity. But not Skyler. She actually happened upon his holstered weapon when he finally kissed her for the first time. It was their fourth date, and they’d gone to dinner and were in the car trying to decide what to do next. They decided to go for a drive, and when Theresa went to open her window, it wouldn’t go down. Skyler leaned across her to work on it, and when he sat up, he was so close to her it was inevitable that they’d kiss. The kiss had been sweet and nice; even so, it had sent chills down her spine. She had slid her hands inside his jacket and down his back. That was when she touched the holstered gun. Even then, he didn’t overreact to the fact that she’d touched the weapon. He continued to kiss her as if nothing had happened. Afterward, he didn’t talk about it; he didn’t pull it out to show her. It was as if it was such an integral part of him, she might as well have touched his arm or leg. It impressed her.

  Skyler Kristiani was cocky in some ways, but mostly when it came to his piloting skills. He was good at what he did, and he knew that. He didn’t brag, but if you asked him point blank if he thought he was a good pilot, he’d tell you he was. He was also proud of the fact that he’d worked hard his whole life and had never had anything given to him on a silver platter. He wasn’t overbearing about it, but he did expect people to hold the same values he did.

  Theresa didn’t think of their romance as a whirlwind—more a kind of breeze that picked up eventually. They’d been dating for almost two years when he finally asked her to marry him. By then they’d been living together for a year. It seemed more convenient. She had their son, Michael, a year after they were married, and Skyler had seemed happy. A little over two years later, though, Skyler was already pulling away from her. He seemed unhappy, almost bored. She’d gotten pregnant again, thinking a new baby would help. Chelsea had been born shortly before their fourth wedding anniversary. Skyler was there for the birth, and had been excited, and things had gotten better for a while. But by the time Chelsea was three and a half, Skyler was wandering again.

  Theresa had known he wasn’t faithful, but he always provided for them, and she hadn’t been brave enough to leave him. When he had the affair with Billy, she could sense a change in him. He pulled away from her totally, and it alarmed her. That was when she laid into him about his cheating. She was determined to get her husband back from whatever woman had turned his head so thoroughly. She did get him back for about two years, but by then, she had all but given up. As far as she knew he hadn’t cheated on her again, but he just wasn’t the same man anymore, and when he finally told her he wanted out, she was almost relieved to let him out of the marriage. They’d been married for eleven years by that time, and Theresa knew she’d been lucky that it had lasted that long. Michael was ten and Chelsea was seven. The divorce was amicable, but Theresa had grown bitter about things over the years since. She hated the fact that Skyler had actually gotten married a third time, although the marriage had been a surprisingly short two years. Michael and Chelsea had hated the woman, and had refused to be in the same house as her. Theresa suspected that had been the reason for the quick demise of the marriage.

  Now, here she was in Skyler’s home, one he hadn’t shared with any wife. She looked around, having never had the opportunity before. She saw pictures of the kids all around; she was surprised at the picture of Cassandra, Skyler’s oldest daughter, and her two children. Cassandra had been a problem for years. Theresa knew the girl liked to cause Skyler grief; she’d done it often enough when she and Skyler were married.

  At thirteen, Cassandra Kristiani, Skyler’s daughter by his first wife, had shown up at their door, saying she had run away and she wanted to live with her father. As it turned out, she had stolen a car and was hiding from the police. A year later she was picked up for stealing in a department store. She was a constant problem in school, getting kicked out of one private school after the next. Skyler had finally threatened to send her to boarding school, the worst he could find; she had straightened up for a while then. She had a string of losers for boyfriends, and stayed out all hours of the night, which had prompted Skyler’s first wife to call him hysterically. Skyler had gone out many nights looking for his errant daughter, dragging her home to her mother, who he’d have to calm down. Theresa had been understanding about it all.

  Their own children had disliked Cassandra intensely, sensing that she was an attention junky. Michael and Chelsea had adored their father when they were young. Chelsea, to Theresa’s dismay, did still love her father, even though the last t
hree years had seen a waning of that. Michael had gone through a rebellious phase, which Skyler squashed resoundingly, even resorting to physically restraining the boy one time when he was out of control. That time Theresa had called him. Michael had been mad at her for straightening up his room; she’d found a joint and called Skyler, worried that Michael was turning into a pothead. By the time Skyler had gotten there, Michael, who outweighed his mother by at least fifty pounds, had been threatening her, menacing her. Skyler had walked in, and seeing what was happening, charged at his son and took him down to the floor. He had told Michael that if he ever threatened his mother again, or any other woman, and he found out about it, he’d beat the shit out of him. Michael had been sufficiently cowed by that.

  Eventually Michael had given up the rebellion and settled for being difficult. He constantly needed money for this or that, and Theresa never had it. Skyler usually ended up providing most of what Michael needed, although Skyler had told him when he started college that he had to get a job if he wanted extra money. The $8,000 a semester tuition was a big enough drain. Theresa was never sure how Skyler did it all, but she usually didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, it served him right for being unable to stick to a commitment when it came to women. It amazed her that he had such an incredible work ethic but that he couldn’t commit to anything emotionally.

  Now, it also bugged the hell out of her that this Billy was back in his life. She wondered if she’d been there all along.

  She wandered down the hall and found her daughter sitting on the bed in the room she stayed in at Skyler’s, talking on the phone. Theresa sat down near her, watching her daughter; it was a signal to Chelsea that she wanted her to get off the phone. Chelsea complied.

  “What’s up, Mom?” she asked. “How’s your car coming?”

  Theresa shrugged. “Got me—what do I know about cars?”

  “It’s a good thing Dad knows about them, huh?” Chelsea sounded proud.

  “Yes, good thing,” Theresa echoed. “Chelsea, what do you know about this Billy person?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how long has your father been seeing her?”

  “I don’t really know, but I think it’s only been a few days. Why?”

  “And is she leaving town soon?”

  “I don’t know, Mom. Why?” Chelsea asked again. She didn’t want to be caught saying too much; she didn’t want her father mad at her again.

  “I just don’t think she’s really good for your father.”

  Chelsea looked at her mother for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. Finally she shook her head. “I think you’re wrong, Mom.”

  “You do, do you?” Theresa said; her tone said, “You’re only a kid, what do you know?”

  “You haven’t seen them together, Mom. Billy makes him laugh. She makes him seem more alive again.”

  “Sex will do that to you, dear,” Theresa snapped.

  Chelsea found herself wanting to snap back, to say that a lack of sex would make you mean—but she knew better. Instead, she grinned at her mother. “He looks great, doesn’t he?”

  “That is beside the point.”

  “He does though, doesn’t he?” Chelsea watched her mother’s eyes. “And you can’t stand that, can you?”

  “Chelsea Renee Kristiani, don’t talk to me like that.”

  “It really bugs you that he looks good, and that he’s with Billy, doesn’t it?” Chelsea said, her tone softer now, not taunting.

  Theresa looked at her daughter for a long moment. “When did you get so worldly wise?”

  Chelsea shrugged. “Beats me.”

  A couple of hours later, Skyler walked into the house. It was getting dark by then. He looked irritated, and Theresa knew her car wasn’t fixed yet.

  “That bad, huh?” she said. She was in his kitchen, cooking. She figured the least she could do was cook him dinner for working on her car all day.

  “Fucking thing is making me crazy,” Skyler said, scrubbing at his face. Then he looked at her. “Would you kill me if I can’t get it fixed tonight?”

  Theresa shook her head. “That would be dumb, killing my mechanic—then I’d have to stay here in nowheresville forever.” She was grinning at him.

  Skyler nodded, grinning back. “That’d be it, wouldn’t it?” He washed his hands at the sink, then went over to the stove, looked into the skillet there, and plucked out a piece of zucchini. He ate it, then turned to Theresa. “Look, after I take a shower and eat, I can take you back over to Davis. Do you have work tomorrow?”

  “No, it’s my Monday off.” Theresa didn’t look concerned. “And let’s see how you feel after you shower, but frankly, Skyler, you look like hell right now.”

  Skyler looked at her for a long moment, a half-grin on his face. “There’s that sweet sensitivity I miss so much,” he said lightly. Then he walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. Theresa heard the shower start a little while later. She leaned against the counter, thinking about him. It was strange to be here, to be friendly with him again. They hadn’t been adversarial by any means, but things had always been strained between them. Considering the morning’s fiasco, Theresa was surprised they were even speaking at all.

  When she’d stormed out of the room, basically just wanting to get away from Billy’s leering face, Chelsea had followed her. She had apologized for calling her, and had asked if they could maybe go have lunch or something since she was all the way up here now. They’d gone out to eat, avoiding the subject of Skyler and Billy like the plague. Afterward they’d stopped off at a couple of clothes shops; Chelsea was always on the lookout for the perfect outfit. She did tell her mother about the concert, careful to leave out the details about Billy and her father being together there. She told her mother about Kid Michaels and how he’d actually winked at her while he was on stage. Chelsea said she thought he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her whole life. When they’d gotten back to the house, Chelsea had dragged her inside to show her the promotional picture she’d gotten at the concert, which was signed by the whole band. She showed her Kid Michaels, and Theresa nodded, but her eyes strayed over to Billy. The woman had a wild look, Theresa had thought, like a stray cat.

  Now Theresa thought about Billy again. She’d been surprised when they’d returned to find a note from Skyler saying he was taking Billy back to her hotel, that he’d be back later. In a way, Theresa had been glad Billy wasn’t still there. She was even more glad when she’d gone to leave and found that her car wouldn’t start. If she’d had to stay in that house with Billy and Skyler, she would have walked back to Davis, almost a two-hour drive away.

  The phone rang then, and Theresa walked over and picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Chelsea?” Billy’s voice, hesitant.

  “No, this is Theresa, Ms. Montague.”

  “What are you doing there?” Billy said, her voice low, anger creeping in.

  “I’d say that’s really none of your business.”

  “And I’d say you’re full of shit,” Billy snapped back. “Where’s Skyler?”

  “He’s in the shower. I’ll let him know you called.” With that, Theresa hung up on her.

  Billy stared at the phone in her hand. She couldn’t believe Skyler’s bitch ex-wife had just hung up on her. She also couldn’t believe she was still at the house. Was Skyler getting cozy with her again? Did he feel like he needed to be with someone closer to his own age? Billy felt depressed, and on edge. She’d slept the entire afternoon, feeling totally out of place. She’d tried Jerith’s room too, but he wasn’t there. Billy suspected he was with his new girlfriend. She remembered what Skyler had told her about Nicolette, and Billy thought it would serve Jerith right. She was mad now, with Theresa hanging up on her, and the fact that Skyler was there with her, and here she sat in a hotel room. It escaped her that she’d been the one who had insisted on coming back to the hotel.

  Billy looked around the room, trying to decide what to do. Her
e she was, a big famous rock star, and she had no one to talk to. She got up and went into the bathroom to take a shower. The entire time she was in there, she could only think of one thing—she had a vial of cocaine in her valise. She fought the urge, telling herself Jerith would kill her if he found out she was using again. Well then he just won’t find out, the part of her that was craving the drug said. How’s he gonna find out? He’s always with that cop now.

  Finally she got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and, still dripping wet, went into the other room. She found the valise and dumped everything out of it. She sat down on the bed and held up the vial. She looked at it for a long time, trying to talk herself out of it.

  What about Skyler—what will he say? she asked herself.

  To hell with Skyler, her craving said. He’s fucking his ex-wife, and he’s thrown you over for her before.

  Without thinking any further, Billy opened the vial and stuck her pinky nail in, drawing out some of the white powder. She put it up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The feel of the cocaine as it made its way through her bloodstream was almost as exquisite as sex. She did a little bit more and then lay back on the bed. After a while she went in and finished her shower. She decided she was going out on the town—to hell with sitting in a boring old hotel room all night by herself.

  When she got out of the shower the phone was ringing. She picked it up, feeling seriously high. “Y’ello!” she chimed.

  “Billy?” Skyler sounded dubious.

  “Sky! Hi there! I wasn’t sure if Mother Theresa would give you the message or not.” Her voice was upbeat—too upbeat, Skyler noted.

  “She gave it to me. Billy, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on, Dad. I’m just happy you called,” Billy said, starting to feel the beginnings of guilt.

  “A little too happy, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask you, Skyler,” she said breezily. “So what’s she doing there anyway?” She thought she managed to sound almost apathetic about Theresa’s presence.