by Katie Ashley
Jackson grinned. “I keep it on the down-low, but I’m pretty obsessed.”
I giggled. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“God, what a pansy,” Wyatt groaned.
Our waiter returned with our orders, and my stomach rumbled with appreciation at the delicious smells rising off the plates. After biting into one of the deep fried shrimp, I moaned. “These are amazing.”
Jackson nodded. “I told you they had the best shrimp around. I don’t get to eat here that often because my mom hates the place.” At my confused expression, Jackson said, “It was my dad’s favorite.”
I froze with my fork in midair as Wyatt remarked, “Oh shizz, here comes some info from the down and dirty Daddy files.”
When I finally found my voice, I casually replied, “Oh really?”
“Yeah, they had a pretty bitter divorce, and she doesn’t like to be reminded of him. Guess it’s a real pisser that she has to look at me from time to time since I look just like the bastard.”
Ouch, I wasn’t expecting that kind of response. “So you and your dad don’t get along?”
Jackson forcefully speared a shrimp. “No, we get along…when I actually see him. I guess you could say he’s the Absentee Father of the Year. During the school year, I don’t come home except on the weekends, and he’s always so wrapped up with his business and social stuff. It’s my grandparents who are always at my school stuff.” As he jabbed the shrimp into the cocktail sauce, he grimaced. “Then my dad had to be a real dick and get his ass in trouble…” He glanced up from his plate. “I mean, even though you’re new in Savannah, I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what to say, so I merely nodded. For the first time, I felt sorry for Jackson and the situation with Emmett. So I did the only thing I could think of, which was to give him a momentary out. “Yeah, parents can do some pretty stupid shit. I mean, look at my mom. Running away from home and leaving us.”
Relief flickered over his face. “Parents can be a real pain in the ass, can’t they?”
“Amen,” I replied. Taking up my Coke, I grinned. “Here’s to the asshats who are our parents.”
He laughed and clinked his Coke with mine. “To the asshats.”
“Gag me,” Wyatt groaned.
And at that precise moment what had happened between our parents flashed in my mind. Shuddering, I knocked my fork to the floor. “Oh jeez, there I go being a klutz again,” I said. When I bent over to get it, I bonked my head on the table, causing it to shake.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked, a puzzled look on his face.
“Not exactly,” I said before I could stop myself. Was I really going to bring up the fact our parents had an affair? “Okay, so the night of my party, Aunt Vivian accidentally slipped and told me some pretty mind blowing news about our parents.”
“And?” Jackson prompted.
“Okay, listen, I’m just gonna blurt this out because there’s no easy way to say it. Aunt Viv told me that your dad and my mom had an affair.”
Wyatt quickly screeched in my ear, “Holy shit, Jules, you didn’t tell me that!”
I continued rambling on, “It’s terrible, I know. And I hadn’t even thought about it until we just mentioned our asshat parents and I—”
Jackson held his hand up. “Jules, I already knew.”
“What? Really?”
He nodded.
“When did you find out?”
“A couple of years ago.”
“And it didn’t bother you that your dad was cheating?”
“Nah,” he shrugged, “it wasn’t the first time. Not to mention, my mom had been dating Thomas even longer.”
“Ouch, really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, I guess I expected a little more of the reaction I had the other night.”
“It’s not like I’m stoked about our parents, Jules. I’m sure as hell glad it ended, so we don’t have to worry about it being even creepier trying to be friends when we’re like step brother and sister.”
I shuddered. “Oh man, that would be creepy!”
Jackson laughed. “So see, we really don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I guess you’re right.” With a shake of my head, I laughed. “Here I thought you might running screaming from the restaurant because it was so freaky.”
He grinned. “I don’t scare that easily, Jules.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jackson slid some cash into the envelope with the bill. “Ready?”
I nodded.
Chapter Fourteen
As we stepped out of the cool sanctuary of the restaurant, stifling air blasted against our faces. “Wanna check out some of the shops?” Jackson asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with not going back yet.
Before I could respond, Wyatt said, “Good deal. Tell him yes…and try to walk as close as you can to him. You know, press up against him. Guys like to be touched…a lot.”
Since I seriously wanted to throttle him, I made a grunting noise that I managed to turn into a cough. “Um, sure. That’d be great.”
Trying not to look too obvious, I managed to brush up against Jackson several times.
He probably thought I had equilibrium problems since I kept weaving over close to him. We hadn’t gotten very far when I stopped at one of the storefronts. “River Street Sweets!” I exclaimed, pressing closer to the glass. “My Dad always brought my brothers and me here when we were in town.”
“Let’s go in then,” Jackson suggested.
“Okay.” The moment I entered the store, a heavenly aroma of chocolate and sugar invaded my nostrils. I closed my eyes to take it all in.
“That is an amazing smell, isn’t it?” Jackson remarked.
Bobbing my head, I replied, “Just inhaling it could make you gain a pound.”
“Dude, you’re in great shape.” My gaze snapped to Jackson’s, and he immediately reddened. “I meant, with you being a runner and all, you’re in really good physical condition.”
“Ooh, Jules, he’s been checking out your bod. That’s a really good sign,” Wyatt said. Ignoring him, I asked Jackson, “How did you know I ran?”
Ducking his head, he seemed enthralled with the floor. “I-I’ve seen you out in the mornings a couple of times when I’ve been running.”
That was just fantastic. My bounty hunting skills must be seriously slipping if I hadn’t noticed him. To get my mind off of running myself down, I stared at a display of teeth rotting goodness. There was row after row of rainbow colored sugar powders in different containers waiting to be combined in long plastic tubes. They were like jumbo Pixie Sticks.
I giggled. “My brothers always had to get one of these. They would call them their ‘Pimp Canes’.”
Jackson snorted. “Your brothers sound pretty awesome.”
“Yeah, they are. Don’t get me wrong. They can be a real pain sometimes, especially when they get too caught up on being overprotective.” I ran my fingers over one of the tubes. “But no matter how aggravating they are, I wouldn’t take anything in the world for them. We all really leaned on each other when my mom left.”
A faraway look entered Jackson’s eyes. “Yeah, I can imagine that did help. My brother means the world to me.”
It was lightning bolt time again. I shuddered to a stop and stared at Jackson. “Your brother? I thought you were an only child.”
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, yeah, I am my mom’s, but my dad already had a son when they got married. His name is Evan. He’s twenty-three.”
Seeing a way in for some more information about where Evan lived, I said, “Oh cool. Does he go to school around here?”
“No, he has Down Syndrome, so college is kinda out of the question.”
Since I already knew that about Evan, I felt like a giant ass for asking him about college. “Oh, I see.”
Jackson must’ve sensed my embarrassment because he rubbed my arm. “It’s okay, Jules. I felt like I could be honest
with you about Evan. Some of my friends just can’t handle the fact that he’s different.”
As I started filling my pimp cane, I couldn’t help but ask, “And how does Bryn feel?”
Jackson smiled. “She’s actually really good to him. She’s been spending a lot more time with him now that he’s in Savannah.”
My bounty hunting senses were tingling all over. “That’s nice he’s so close. Well, I guess he’s close. Where’s he at exactly?”
“Only about five minutes from the house at the Brandewine Institute.”
Bingo. Mom volunteered there.
“So what flavors should I get?” Jackson asked. After we filled our canes, we edged towards the cash register. Jackson motioned to the glass display of chocolate concoctions. “You gotta get one of their legendary pralines.”
I groaned. “Between the pimp cane, the praline and the magnificent shrimp platter, I think I’m going to be running even farther tomorrow morning.”
Jackson grinned. “Maybe we could meet up and run sometime.”
Before I could respond, Wyatt was in my ear again. “Score. Dude wants to hang out with you lots. Plus he wants to see you sweat. That’s hot.”
I was going to personally strangle him the next time I saw him. “Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”
When he reached for his wallet, I couldn’t help but protest. “Let me get the candy since you got dinner.”
“Nope. I’ve got this.” He bought us both one of the legendary pralines along with the pimp canes, and we headed back out into the sweltering summer night. We munched on the chocolates as we walked along the river.
“Hey, I want you to meet somebody.”
“Okay.” I quickly wiped my mouth to make sure I didn’t have a chocolate ring from the praline.
“His name is Homeless Joe.” I glanced over to where a guy sat strumming his guitar. Even without telling me his name, I could’ve guessed by Joe’s ragged clothes and disheveled appearance that he was homeless. Change and dollar bills littered the inside of his worn guitar case.
“Just when I thought Jackson wasn’t an epic tool, he goes and says something like that,” Wyatt growled.
Echoing his sentiments, I snapped, “Isn’t it a little rude to call him ‘Homeless Joe’?”
Jackson chuckled. “I’m not being a jerk, Jules. The guy calls himself that.”
“Oh, okay, sorry.”
Homeless Joe stopped strumming as Jackson and I strolled up. “Well, if it isn’t Captain Jack,” Joe mused.
He and Jackson exchanged handshakes, and then he gazed up at me. “Ah, and who is this lovely young lady?”
“Joe, this is my friend, Jules. She’s Bryn’s cousin,” Jackson introduced.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, shaking Joe’s hand.
“Nice meeting you, too. I’m Homeless Joe, by the way,” he said, grinning at us. Jackson shot me an “I told you so” look.
“So what are you two up to this evening?” Joe asked.
“I’m just showing Jules around the city. She’s hasn’t been here in a while.”
Joe began strumming his guitar again. “And where are you from, Lovely Jules?”
“Texas.”
He nodded. “I’ve been through there before. Nice place, but it’s not like Georgia. Especially Savannah.”
I smiled. “No, I guess not.”
“Hmm, I like the way this guy thinks,” Wyatt said.
Joe returned my smile and then glanced over at Jackson. “How about a song for the lovely Jules?”
“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” I protested.
“Oh shut up, Jules, and let the man sing for you!” Wyatt blared in my ear.
Joe winked at Jackson, and with a flurry of his fingers, he began strumming a melody. It didn’t take me long to recognize Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight.” Dad happened to be a big fan, and if he could’ve gotten away with it, he would’ve named me “Layla” from the Clapton song, but Mom vetoed it. Several people gathered around to hear Joe sing. They swayed to the music in the fading twilight.
Then out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar face. It took me a second to place the guy - it was Tattooed Timmy—the repeat jumper whose picture I’d seen on Raye’s board. The world seemed to crawl to a standstill. Timmy was casing the area, eyeing the tourists whose attention was focused on Homeless Joe’s song, not their wallets or purses. My hands went to my purse. I snatched out the can of mace Raye had given me.
My mind buzzed like a beehive. I needed to tell Wyatt to get Raye. And then I had to find a way to subdue Timmy until Raye could get here. Most of all, I had to do it without raising too much suspicion in Jackson, which meant I had to get away from him. Fast.
“I, um…I have to go to the bathroom,” I said, before I started inching away from Jackson and towards Timmy.
Jackson gave me a funny look. “Now?” he asked at the same time Wyatt blared, “What the hell are you doing? You’re ruining a prime romantic moment!”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back” I murmured.
He nodded and then turned back to face Joe. With Jackson’s attention elsewhere, I started moving faster towards Timmy. “Wyatt, you need to get Raye down here ASAP. Tattooed Timmy’s about to jack somebody’s wallet.”
“Shit. He just left with the guys to do some surveillance,” Wyatt replied. He drew in a ragged breath. “Listen, Jules, don’t do anything crazy.”
It was at that moment that Timmy met my gaze. Something in my expression must’ve triggered him because his eyes traveled down my body to my right hand where I had a death grip on the mace. And then his gaze snapped back to mine for a second before he turned and sprinted away.
“Dammit!” I cried, running after Timmy’s retreating form.
“What the hell’s going on?”
“What do you think?” I panted. “I’m chasing him down.”
With all the people packed on River Street, I had to dodge in and out of the crowd. I got tripped up on twins in a double stroller and pitched forward, falling flat onto the ground. My knees skidded along the concrete, sending stinging tears to my eyes.
Wyatt’s voice, rich with concern, vibrated in my ear. “Jules, are you okay? What was that noise?”
“I just fell and ate some cement, but I’m okay.”
“Ouch, sorry. I just texted Raye, and he’s coming just as fast as he can. Thank God he was close by.” Wyatt was talking so fast he had to pause to breathe. “Do you still have a visual on Timmy?”
I jerked my head up just in time to see him getting tangled up in a group of elderly tourists. When he tried to shove a man with a cane out of the way, a group of the man’s cronies circled around Timmy, shouting at him. “Uh-oh, I think he’s about to get the shit kicked out of him by a bunch of Senior Citizens!”
“Seriously?”
Leaping to my feet, I caught up to them just as Timmy was getting whacked in the head with a cane. Hard. “Oh yeah, he just got owned by an eighty year old.” Timmy started stumbling up a side alley. “I’m not sure who he’s running away from now—the militant oldsters or me.”
“Keep on his ass. Raye’s almost there.”
Sprinting up behind Timmy, a metal trash can lid caught my eye. I snatched it and bonked him in the back of the neck. “Did you just take him out?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah,” I murmured, as Timmy went tumbling to the ground. When he rolled over onto his back, I positioned myself over him. My boot heel pushed down on his throat—a disabling technique Dad had showed me when I was ten.
As he started choking, I trained the can of mace on him. “I’m moving my foot, but I will seriously hose you if you even blink! And this isn’t just chick mace. It’s manufactured strictly for bounty hunters!”
Timmy nodded frantically as he fought to catch his breath.
“Jules, what the—”
I whirled around to see Jackson standing behind me. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, I might’ve laughed at the horrifi
ed look on his face—especially since he was clutching my purse to his chest.
“Don’t tell me Richie Rich just saw that! Dude, he’s going to ruin everything,” Wyatt said.
Ignoring him, I thrust the can of mace into Jackson’s hand. “Here, hold this on him.”
He stared at me like I was some alien life form. I jerked his arm and pointed it at Timmy. “If he moves, spray him, okay?”
Jackson mumbled something incoherent, but his eyes stayed focused on Timmy. I needed a phone because there was no way I could communicate to Wyatt my location via the earpiece with Jackson standing there. In my panicked silence, Wyatt said, “It’s okay, Jules. I know you can’t talk right now. To find you, Raye’s going to need to trace the GPS in your phone. So call him right now.”
Even though I felt better having a plan, it still wasn’t fool proof . First, I couldn’t just whip out my phone after pretending not thirty minutes earlier that I didn’t have one. So I was going to have to improvise. So for the second time that evening, I got up close and personal with Jackson’s crotch by reaching into the pocket of his shorts. The moment my hand started delving inside the pocket Jackson widened his eyes.
“Um, sorry,” I mumbled. Once I had the cell phone, I quickly punched in Raye’s number. Thank God he had made me memorize it, or I would’ve been screwed.
“Hey, it’s Jules.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.
“Look, it’s okay. I’ve got him subdued—”
“Yeah and what if you hadn’t? Can you imagine what it would have been like to try to explain to your dad what had happened?”
I cringed at the thought. “No.”
“Whatever. We’re almost there! If Timmy even breathes wrong, don’t hesitate to hose him.”
“Yeah, okay. Great. See you in a minute.”
With the mace gun still trained on Timmy, Jackson said, “Could you please tell me what’s going on?”
“Can’t wait to hear you get yourself out of this one,” Wyatt mused.
I tried stalling. “Um, well, my cousin is on his way.”
Jackson refused to take his eyes off Timmy. “So is he a cop or something?”
