Sabotage: A Vigilante Justice Novel

by Kristin Harte

  I took one more glance at the glow over the hardware store before turning my back on it.

  Stay safe, beauty.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Eight

  MERCY

  SATURDAY MORNING, I snuck downstairs—coffee in hand—to look over emails received overnight. A totally normal thing I did weekly, but for some reason, I couldn’t get my head into work. Fine, not just some reason—I knew where my focus had gone, where my attention seemed to be pointing, and it wasn’t to customers and sales. It was to the man who’d infiltrated my life and taken me completely by surprise. The one who’d kissed me like a man claiming ownership of a woman would, before backing off completely after just one word from me. I had no idea how to handle a man like Parris, but he sure seemed to know how to handle me.

  “Not going to pay the bills in kisses.” I shook my head, sipped my coffee, and refocused on the screen. Work, work, work—that was my priority. That was what I needed to devote my time to. Build the business, take care of Beckett, and make sure there was some money left over for me to enjoy life just a little bit. That didn’t seem like too much to ask.

  I was deep in my email inbox, noodling over the idea of how to handle custom works for customers, when a loud knock coming from the alley door sounded through the store. Fear raced through me, making me grab my phone and rush for the front of the building instead of the back. Beckett was still sleeping upstairs, and whether that was a good thing or not I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I needed to figure out who was outside and how much help I was going to need to make them leave.

  Knowing no one in the Kennard family could make it to me as quickly as I would likely need them to, I grabbed the shotgun from under the counter before heading toward the alley door. One shot. I just needed one good shot—not to kill, but to maim. To hurt. So long as there weren’t a whole lot of men back there, I could handle this.

  Still, the door seemed way too close to me, and my heart beat louder with every step toward it. Another knock sounded, this one harsher. More forceful. I gripped the gun with sweaty palms and took a deep breath as I finally closed the distance between myself and the door. The metal felt cold against my hand, but I leaned closer, taking advantage of the security features my dad had installed many, many years ago. Long before anyone had even heard of the Soul Suckers.

  But when I looked through the peephole, it wasn’t a biker standing outside. Well, it was, and technically the one I feared the most but for so many crazy reasons having nothing to do with death.

  “What are you doing here?” I said as soon as I opened the door.

  Parris—looking more tired than even the day before—held up a bag from The Baker’s Cottage and shrugged. “Hi.”

  I blinked. Again. Still trying to make the vision before me turn into something I might have expected to see. “Hi. You make a wrong turn or something?”

  His brow furrowed, the exhaustion battling with what I could only describe as dejection. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” He glanced at the gun in my hands, darting his eyes to mine. “And I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Something in his tone, in the tiredness there, warmed my heart a little bit. The mother in me worried about him, and the woman I’d been brought up to be couldn’t help but want to take care of him. I tugged my robe tighter around me and stepped back, giving him room to pass me. “Come on inside.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “No, please. I didn’t mean to snap—it’s still early, and I haven’t had much coffee yet.”

  And yet, he paused.

  “I wasn’t sure if you drank it, or I would have grabbed some for you.” He looked down the alley, frowning. “Want me to go get some from Katie’s? I’m sure they—”

  “Parris, get inside and come upstairs with me. There’s coffee brewing already.”

  That arrogant smile lit his face for about half a second. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He passed me then waited as I hauled the shotgun back to the front of the store. When I pushed through the doors separating the selling space from the back room, he hadn’t moved, but his eyes…they saw. They noticed everything.

  “Was that even loaded?”

  I nodded. “Always. Just in case.”

  He frowned, those eyes that held so much exhaustion sharpening slightly. “And Beckett?”

  As in, did Beckett know about the gun. “He knows it’s there, what it does, and why he should never touch it. When he gets a little older, I’ll teach him to shoot the same way my dad taught me.”

  “Did you always keep a gun behind the counter?”

  “No. Not until the bikers showed up.”

  Why I’d chosen bikers instead of Soul Suckers, I wasn’t sure, but the word definitely affected him. He sagged a bit, that frown deepening. I couldn’t take it back, though. The word sat between us, heavy and dark. Creating distance. Creating friction.

  “I’m sorry you feel the need to be armed,” Parris said before yawning widely. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  He nodded. “That sounds amazing.”

  “Come on, then.” I locked the alley door before tugging Parris down the hall. The man followed close behind me as we trudged up the stairs to the apartment, not saying anything. When we reached the apartment door, I held it open and let Parris lead the way inside. The rooms sat quiet, which told me Beckett was still asleep. But the sun was lighting up the spaces, and that little monster rarely slept in. He’d be up and rolling any minute now.

  “No Beckett?” Parris asked, as if reading my mind.

  “Still sleeping. Why? You disappointed to only be able to spend time with me?”

  And though I’d meant the question as a joke, the tension those words created nearly overwhelmed me. Parris darted his eyes to mine, locking me in that predator gaze again. Making me tremble in ways that had nothing to do with fear.

  “I will never be disappointed in time with you, beauty.” He huffed a laugh, setting the bag on the counter. “You need to quit looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I asked, completely breathy and out of sorts.

  Parris practically jumped in front of me, forcing me back until my hips hit the kitchen table. “Like you want me to kiss those sweet lips of yours again but are too afraid to ask for it.”

  This man. “I…I don’t…”

  He hummed as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. The action familiar and sweet, something I noticed he did often enough to have become almost expected. “You’re not ready to ask yet. I get that. But you will be.”

  He tapped my nose then gave me my space, heading back to the counter to unpack the bag. Giving me a few seconds to collect my thoughts and calm my breathing. The man was dangerous, and I liked it. Too much.

  “I figured everybody liked breakfast stuff,” he said, catching my eye and giving me an almost shy sort of smile. “I grabbed a bunch of pastries and sandwiches that Katie had for the mill guys.”

  For the men who worked at Alder’s lumber company. I’d grown accustomed to hearing their trucks running up and down Main Street, though why they’d be working on a Saturday, I had no idea.

  As if reading my mind again, Parris said, “Apparently the weather’s going to stay warm for a bit, so Alder’s got them working hard during this heat wave. Something about beetle wood.”

  “Beetle kill pine,” I said. “It’s what he harvests.”

  “That’s it. I couldn’t think of the words.” He shook his head and yawned once more. “Come eat something. I want to feed you.”

  Oh, my heart. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Of course I didn’t, but I wanted to say thank you for letting me crash your party last night.”

  I grabbed a few plates and set them on the counter before walking toward the opposite end. “I’m sure it was boring to a man like you—a kid’s sixth birthday party.”

  He shook his head, dead serious as he said, “It was the
most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

  This man was going to break through my defenses in no time. Of that, I suddenly had no doubt. Instead of falling for him, though, I reached into the cabinet and grabbed a mug. Holding it between us as if it were some sort of talisman. A sort of shield, not that I had any doubts that Parris could be warded off with anything other than some seriously strong magic.

  I didn’t know any magic, but I could brew an amazing potion. One I had a feeling he’d appreciate. “So…want some coffee?”

  Parris practically groaned. “God yes.”

  With a smile trying hard to force its way onto my face, I poured him a cup, repeating the process for my own seeing as how I’d left my cup downstairs. But once the dark liquid was swirling, I froze. And frowned. “I don’t have cream, but I’ve got milk of both the cow and the almond variety.”

  Parris simply shook his head. “Not needed. Black is perfect. Thank you.”

  I handed him the cup of black coffee, grabbing a spoonful of sugar for my own. “So, you just decided—”

  “Mister Parris!” Beckett’s screech made Parris jump back, and my little six-year-old ball of energy jumped at him before even looking my way. “Are we going to get my bike today?”

  Parris laughed, hugging Beckett—and thankfully not spilling hot coffee on him—before setting him on his feet. “Not today—today, you pick your ride while I go buy a truck. Tomorrow, we take my new truck to buy your new bike.”

  “Aw, man.” Beckett’s pout pulled heavy and thick, but the smile that broke out as he saw one of Katie’s homemade donuts cleared that right up. My boy knew better than to take, though. “Mom, can I have a donut, please?”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  Beckett practically leaped at the counter, earning a chuckle from both Parris and me. As soon as Beckett was settled at the table with his donut and a glass of milk, I moved behind the counter again. Needing something firm and solid between me and the man taking up so much space in my home. And my life.

  “You’re buying a new truck?”

  Parris huffed, taking a sip of coffee before setting his mug down. “It’s getting colder, and I’m too old to deal with motorcycles in the snow.”

  That caught my attention. I’d noticed the slight graying of his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. Subtle—not excessive—but there. And my curiosity was definitely piqued by them. “How old are you?”

  Those eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “You getting personal with me, Miss Bell?”

  “Sorry. I just—”

  “I’m forty-two,” Parris said, totally interrupting my apology. Smiling when I turned back around. “I’ll be forty-three soon enough, though. What about you?”

  I gripped my coffee mug a little tighter, thinking about the age difference. Ten years wasn’t that bad, was it? “A lady never tells her age.”

  Parris shrugged and raised his own mug to his lips. “Fair enough.”

  But my son, bless him, knew no boundaries. “My mom’s thirty-two. And I’m six.”

  Parris grinned. “That I knew, little man.”

  “So…a new truck.” I nodded, practically rolling my eyes at Parris’ grin. Yeah, I was changing the subject, and he knew it. “It’s supposed to be warm for a bit. Why do you need one today?”

  He took another sip of coffee, keeping his eyes on mine as he swallowed then lowered the mug. “I can’t fit a bike on the back of my Harley.”

  “No, you can’t. You could just use my SUV, though.”

  “Thanks, but I need to grow up and deal with driving a cage eventually. Might as well be now.”

  “A cage?”

  “Car. Truck. Ride. Vehicle not on two wheels and open to the ground beneath my feet.” He shot a glance at Beckett before locking those light eyes on mine again. “Sometimes, life hands you things that need more protection from the elements.”

  God, he was so hot. And there. And he actually seemed to enjoy spending time with Beckett. I should not be having the sort of thoughts about him that I was. Naked thoughts. The kind that had woken me up again last night and left me a needy mess.

  “Hey, Mister Parris!” Beckett jumped to his feet as soon as he finished his donut. “Want to play Minecraft with me?”

  “Sure thing, little man.” Parris leaned closer and dropped the volume of his voice. “What the fuck is Minecraft?”

  I laughed. “Like Legos but a video game. He likes to build houses in it.”

  “Huh.” He took a step back, looking me up and down. Making me feel much more naked than I actually was. “You planning on working today?”

  “Yeah. Beckett and I usually head down to the store around ten.”

  “Okay. I’ll hang with the little man until you’re ready, then I’ll run and deal with this truck while you get your business on.”

  “You know you don’t have to stay.”

  He shrugged. “I want to.”

  As if things were that easy. As if coming into a little boy’s life was something simple and quick. As if Beckett wouldn’t be devastated when Parris left again.

  As if I wouldn’t as well.

  “Don’t…” I stopped, trying hard not to get choked up. “Don’t make him promises you can’t keep. He’s gotten enough of that from the men in his life.”

  Parris’ brow tightened, his lips turning down. “Anyone still in the picture? His dad, maybe?”

  That question almost made me laugh. “Not in the least. He left us a long time ago.”

  “Not to sound like a dick, but good.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeah. His stupidity is a gift to me.” He squeezed my elbow as he leaned past me to put his empty cup in the sink. “I’ve only got to get through your defenses now.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  He locked his eyes on mine. “I never stop fighting for what I want, beauty. Not ever.”

  Breathless. I had gone completely breathless.

  “Good to know,” I whispered, unable to find the strength for more words.

  “Go. I’ve got him.” Parris ran a finger down my wrist then turned away, heading toward the living room. “All right, little man. Tell me all about this Mineshaft thing.”

  Beckett giggled, looking way too excited to have Parris involved in our morning routine. “It’s Minecraft.”

  Parris grinned my way. “Minecraft. Got it. Teach me how to play it.”

  I watched Parris disappear into the other room, standing in my kitchen long enough to finish my coffee and catch my breath. My god, the man did things to me. Bad things. Things that made my heart race and the blood inside of me warm. Nothing good could come from an attraction that strong. Nothing but hot sex and broken dreams. I might have been down for the hot sex if Beckett weren’t the one who’d suffer right along with me at the whole broken dreams thing.

  Still, I liked him. More than I cared to admit. And when I snuck to the doorway and peeked into the living room, I liked him even more. My son and Parris sat side by side on the couch, the older one dwarfing the younger. Parris was a big man with a big personality and a lot of arrogance, but as he sat there with Beckett, I could also see the carefulness about him. The way he gingerly touched the screen on Beckett’s iPad, how he listened to the child beside him. Good lord, a man being kind to my kid was the hottest thing ever. Instant aphrodisiac. I needed to step away before I jumped him.

  “I’m going to get dressed,” I said, swallowing hard when two sets of light eyes met mine. “Behave, okay?”

  My heart jumped a little when both of them said Yes, ma’am at the same time.

  “Trouble, trouble, trouble. That’s what he is,” I whispered to myself, hurrying down the hall toward my bedroom. Once safely locked inside, I stripped off my robe and headed for the bathroom. A quick shower was all I needed. Just a couple of minutes under the hot water to recenter myself and bring my brain back online.

  Still, a little makeup likely wouldn’t hurt anything.

  Ten minutes, three outfit cha
nges, and more mascara than I’d worn in a year later, I walked across the dining area to the living room. Parris and Beckett were still on the couch, but Minecraft had obviously been abandoned as the iPad lay beside my son. He leaned against Parris instead, the two of them watching cartoons on the television mounted to the wall across the way. Parris had his arm around Beckett and was playing with the boy’s hair, and Beckett…he looked completely and utterly at ease. Comfortable. Safe.

  I was pretty sure the huge shift within my body was from my ovaries exploding.

  “Ready for work, buddy?”

  Parris looked up, giving me that sexy once-over before locking his eyes on mine. “He sure is.”

  Beckett turned off the television and jumped to his feet, grinning. “I’m going to be a super good helper today.”

  That was new. “You are?”

  “Yeah. Because Mister Parris said—”

  “Mr. Parris said that was a conversation between men.” He gave Beckett a wink. “Go get your stuff so I can talk to your momma.”

  “Okay. See you later, Mister Parris.”

  “Bye, little man.” Parris followed Beckett—who’d gone running to his room, likely to get dressed for the day—and stopped right in front of me. Almost touching but not quite. Bringing all that heat with him and practically bathing me in it.

  He was far too sexy for his own good.

  But I still wasn’t asking him for a kiss. “A conversation between men?”

  “Yup,” he replied, looking quite pleased with himself. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

  “Were you cussing?”

  He frowned. “I might have once or twice.”

  “Do I need to know what this manly conversation was about?”

  “It was about taking care of your woman, and for Beckett, that means you.” He leaned even closer, making me drunk off his scent, his lips brushing my cheek as he whispered, “For me, too.”

  “I’m not yours.” But my argument sounded so damn weak. And he knew it.