Jules, the Bounty Hunter

by Katie Ashley

  Raye chuckled. “Go figure, huh?”

  As we passed through the main gate, Raye got on his walkie talkie. “Big Papa, pull on up to the group tour bus parking. Separate up and work your way inward to the rendezvous area.”

  “Copy that Rambo.”

  Raye handed me a map. “Okay, Jules, as soon as we park, we’re going to scatter. You’re going to pretend to be your average tourist—”

  “Your average scantily dressed tourist,” I mused.

  “Whatever,” Raye replied. He pointed to an area on the map. “You head straight for Johnny Mercer’s grave, and then work your way around to Gracie Watson’s. Keep making the same patterned loop. As soon as any of us have visual, we’ll let you know.”

  “Fabulous,” I said, putting my earpiece in.

  “Sound check Jewel of the Nile,” Raye said.

  I nodded. “Coming in loud and clear.”

  “All right, let’s do this.”

  As I started to get out, Wyatt appeared beside me. “Be careful, okay?”

  I gaped at his genuinely concerned expression. “Wyatt Deluca, are you going soft on me?”

  “This guy is bad news, Jules.” He reached over to push the loose strands of hair from my ponytail out of my face. “I…I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  I couldn’t stop the fluttering in my chest at his words. This caring, concerned side of Wyatt was very, very attractive. I playfully smacked his hand. “Stop worrying. I’ll be fine. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo, you know?”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, I just know how you think you’re such a badass.”

  Dad’s voice buzzing in my ear interrupted us. “Positions everyone.”

  “I gotta go.” Then I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Don’t ever forget I am a complete and total badass!”

  He laughed. “Whatever, Julesy.”

  As I got lost in the crowd of tourists, I tried calming myself down. Even though I’d put on a good front for Wyatt, I still had butterflies in my stomach. I don’t think I’d been this nervous about a case in a long time. Of course, I hadn’t ever been used as bait like this. Working on pure adrenaline is a lot different than having to put on a calculated show.

  It was another scorching day in Savannah, and I felt the heat, literally and emotionally, bearing down on me as I weaved through the headstones and markers. As I came to Johnny Mercer’s grave, I paused, waiting for JD to pounce. When he didn’t, I continued my pilgrimage towards Gracie Watson’s grave.

  As I read the names on a few of the surrounding monuments, Colt’s voice rang in my ear. “Suspect is in full view of Jewel of the Nile.”

  “Copy that Crazytrain,” I replied.

  Seriously, it is no piece of cake waiting on some perv to come breathe down your neck. I had to take a few deep breaths and do a little pep talk in my mind.

  “Suspect is now moving towards Gracie Watson in pursuit of Jewel of the Nile.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. Before I could respond, Dad said, “Copy that, Crazytrain. Team move forward and prepare for take down.”

  I eased to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates surrounding Gracie Watson’s grave and monument. As I read the inscription on the stone, I felt eyes on me. Mainly they were on me below the belt. Yuck.

  “Hey there,” a voice that was laced with creeper came from behind me.

  I whirled around and plastered on my best fake smile. “Hiya.”

  With his stringy auburn hair and two day stubble, JD looked like your average drug dealer. I hadn’t asked Raye, but I could only imagine from his acid washed jeans and ratty t-shirt that he sold Meth.

  JD motioned towards Gracie Watson’s angelic faced statue. “You know the story about her?”

  Since I was playing at a bimbo, I shook my head and widened my eyes. “No, is there something spooky about it? Cause I love a good ghost story.”

  A toothy grin spread on JD’s face. “Oh yeah, it’s a scary one. They say if you take away one of the trinkets people leave around the grave, the statue will cry bloody tears.”

  “Wow, that’s freaky,” I replied.

  “I know stories about all the haunted graves here. Why don’t you let me give you a tour?” JD asked, his hand trailing down my arm.

  As I fought my gag reflex, Dad’s voice once again rang in my earpiece. “Back away, Jules. We have him.”

  “As tempting as that sound, I better pass,” I replied.

  There was a flurry of activity all around me. Colt and Remy came charging in from one direction while Dad and Raye came from another. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, “Freeze! On the ground, NOW!”

  “What the—” JD started before Dad shoved him to the ground.

  “Good job, little sis,” Remy said, as he bent over to handcuff JD.

  I grinned. “Piece of cake.”

  Dad and Raye started searching JD’s pocket, coming up with a stash of Meth he was probably planning on selling before he ran into me. “JD, it ain’t looking good for you buddy,” Raye said, as he pulled JD to his feet.

  JD eyed me one last time. “Figures you’d be bait,” he grumbled.

  “And figures you’d only think with your—”

  “Jules!” Dad scolded.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh whatever.”

  Raye pushed JD forward and started leading him to the SUV with Dad at his side.

  I trailed behind them with Colt and Remy.

  When we got to the SUV, Wyatt was waiting for us. Without even thinking, I hopped into his arms, and he twirled me around. “Good job, Julesy,” he said, with a grin.

  “Thank you, thank you.”

  Dad and Raye hopped in one of the SUV’s to take JD on to lock-up, so Wyatt drove Remy, Colt, and me back to the office. The moment we walked through the door, I made a beeline to the bathroom to change. I’d had enough of showing my cleavage to the world, not to mention that I’d caught Wyatt glancing over at me too many times on the way home.

  When I came out, the boys were huddled around Raye’s desk, deep in conversation. They’d been together all of two seconds, and now the three of them were bff’s or something. From the bits and pieces that floated back to me, I knew it was somewhat R-rated, focusing on Wyatt’s tongue ring. Plus, the moment they saw me, they stopped talking.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “Don’t stop for me. I assume you were discussing some of the urban sex legends with tongue rings?”

  Remy snickered. “Not exactly.”

  “They aren’t urban legends if they’re true,” Wyatt said, with his usual cocky grin.

  “Ugh, spare me.”

  Colt reached over and cupped my ears. “Hey dude, earmuffs around Jules’s virgin ears.”

  I shoved him away. “Give me a break.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Actually, the guys were showing me their tats.”

  On their 18th birthday, Colt and Remy had gotten tattoos on their biceps. It wasn’t something Dad was real thrilled about, but since both of them got a Celtic cross to pay homage to our Irish roots, he didn’t complain too much.

  “So, I leave for five minutes and you guys start a game of ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?’”

  “Pretty much,” Remy said.

  Eyeing Wyatt’s arms, I asked, “So where’s yours?”

  He shot an aggravated look towards the front where Sherry was. “Mom won’t let me get one til I’m eighteen.”

  Remy snorted. “That sounds a little bogus to me. I bet you’re just too much of a pansy to get one.”

  “Yeah, right,” Wyatt grinned.

  I shook my head at them. “Don’t worry. If Mom knew the boys had gotten them, she’d flip out.”

  My phone then buzzed with a text. When I glanced down at the screen, my breath caught in my chest. “It’s Jackson.”

  “What’s he want?” Wyatt asked.

  I scanned the message. “He’s having a party tonight at his house, and he wants to know if I can come.” Jerki
ng my head up, I peered expectantly at the guys. “I want to go, right?”

  Colt rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jules, you do.”

  “I thought so,” I replied, as I started texting Jackson back.

  “I’m coming too,” Wyatt said.

  I dropped the phone, then bent to retrieve it from under the desk. “Excuse me?”

  Wyatt nodded. “Guys always want what they can’t have. So, what better way to entice Jackson than to show up with me?”

  Both Remy and Colt nodded in unison. “You’ll drive him wild, Little Sis, if you show up with Wyatt,” Remy said.

  Going to the party with Wyatt both excited and terrified me. There was also the pesky little issue of how I hated parties and social settings. “Uh, okay, that sounds good then.”

  “What time are we supposed to be there?”

  I glanced back down at my phone. “Seven.”

  “Then we better head out and start getting ready.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I asked, “Lemme guess. I’m supposed to dress all sexy again and do the lotion and hair thing?”

  All three of them nodded in unison. I turned on my brothers. “What happened to your usual overprotective, Neanderthal selves?”

  Colt grinned. “First, we know you can take out Jackson, and second, we know Wyatt will be with you to keep an extra eye out for us.”

  “You guys are so warped,” I muttered before heading to the door.

  “Have fun!” Remy called behind me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By the time I got out of the shower, my nerves were completely fried at the thought of going to Jackson’s party. It wasn’t about being invited by him or the possibility of finally getting more alone time with him. Nope, it was more about the fact that I usually made a total fool out of myself at parties.

  While I got ready, I continued to work myself into a frenzy. By the time Wyatt rang the doorbell, I thought at any moment I might actually puke. When I threw open the door, I did a double take. Instead of his trademark jeans and t-shirt, he had on khaki pants along with a navy Polo shirt.

  “You changed?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, your brothers hooked me up with some of their clothes. I thought I better try to look the part of a rich dude tonight. Don’t wanna get thrown out of the party for looking unfortunate.”

  I smiled. “You look really nice.”

  “So do you,” he replied, as his eyes scanned over me. Since Jackson had so appreciated my strapless sundress the other night, I’d decided to wear another one, except this one was blue. Wyatt smiled. “I think you’re gonna make Jackson wonder why the hell he hasn’t made a move yet.”

  “I doubt that.”

  He cupped my chin. “Would you stop running yourself down? Richie Rich should be so lucky as to have you.”

  Both Wyatt’s fingers touching my skin along with his words sent a tingle up my spine. “Thanks,” I murmured.

  He nodded, and then started down the porch steps. I hesitated at the sight of the motorcycle. Call me crazy, but there was something a little scary about it. Sure, I’d ridden four-wheelers since I was a kid, but this was different….dangerously different.

  Wyatt cocked his head at me. “You aren’t scared of riding the bike, are you?”

  “I’m not scared of anything,” I snapped.

  “Except guys,” he replied with a smirk.

  Drawing my shoulders back, I snatched the helmet out of his hands and slid it on. I wasn’t even going to imagine what kind of helmet hair I’d have when we got to Jackson’s. Wyatt grinned as he hopped on the bike. I slid across the leather seat behind him. He reached back to bring my arms around his waist. “Better hold on tight, Julesy.”

  “And you better not go too fast,” I said, just before he revved the motor.

  “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  “You better not.”

  When we pulled out into the street, the pavement rushed at me. It felt like I was going to go careening face first into the asphalt. I closed my eyes and pressed myself closer against Wyatt. I tried focusing on anything but the possibility that I might end up road kill. But then my mind started wandering to how hard Wyatt’s abs felt beneath his shirt, and how good he smelled when I leaned my face into his back. I tried shaking those thoughts out of my head.

  With the wind rippling our clothes, the hem of my dress went billowing up. The only way to keep me from flashing half of the Historic District was to press my thighs tight against Wyatt’s.

  As we zipped along the streets, I leaned forward and shouted, “Am I squeezing you too hard?”

  I felt the rise and fall of Wyatt’s chest as laugher echoed through him. “Oh no. I’m sure I’ll get circulation back sometime.”

  “I’m sorry!” I called back, trying to ease up on my grip.

  Wyatt was quiet for a minute before saying, “Actually, it feels really good having you so close to me.”

  Since I didn’t know quite how to respond to a statement like that, I just replied, “What?”

  Wyatt didn’t repeat what he’d said. Things seemed to be changing between us at a rapid pace, and I didn’t know the right things to say or do. The butterflies fluttering in my stomach weren’t helping either.

  When we arrived at Jackson’s house, those same butterflies morphed to boulders. Cars filled the street, and the house looked packed. I had to fight to catch my breath as I felt a full on panic washing over me.

  I tensed the moment Wyatt put the kickstand down. He must’ve sensed it because he turned around. “What’s wrong? Did I go too fast?”

  I eased the helmet off my head. “No, it’s nothing like that. You’re actually a pretty decent driver…or biker…or whatever you call it.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  I peeked in the mirror and smoothed down my hair. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. When I finished, Wyatt was staring expectantly at me. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m not really good in social settings.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “No, it’s totally the truth. Back home, the only people I really hang out with are family—my brothers and my guy and girl cousins. My best friend is my cousin, Jamie. And family has to hang out with you no matter what. You know, like the old saying ‘blood is thicker than water and all’.”

  “You charmed the hell outta my friends last night. That’s no easy feat.”

  I exhaled in a long, wheezing breath. “Okay, the truth is I hate parties. Rooms packed full of people all staring at you, waiting for you to make a fool out of yourself. And the dancing…I suck at dancing.”

  Wyatt beckoned me with his hand. “Stop worrying. You’ll be fine.

  “Famous last words.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe the girl who takes down tattooed felons with her bare hands is worried about a measly little high school party.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  He grabbed my hand in his and grinned, flashing me his tongue ring. “It’ll be fine. Even though you can totally take care of yourself, I’m right here if you need me. And if the scene blows, I’ll take you back home.”

  Wow, that was unexpected. Wyatt kept surprising me with his thoughtfulness. It was enough to melt my resolve a little. “Okay, I guess I can do it.”

  As we started up the walkway, Wyatt kept hold of my hand. It felt so comforting that I didn’t dare let go. The house pulsated with light and thumping music. I could imagine the neighbors were less than thrilled with the comings and goings at Jackson’s tonight. I kinda held out hope that the cops might eventually bust up the party, and I would be saved.

  Wyatt led me through the front door. Both high school and college age kids packed the foyer and front rooms. Some people were dancing to the music while others sipped long necks and talked.

  “Wow, this is some crowd!” Wyatt called over the intense bass. When I didn’t respond, he must’ve noticed my anxiety because he wrapped one of his arms around my waist.
“Come on, let’s go find Jackson,” he said, his lips hovering over my ear.

  “Okay, sounds good.”

  We weaved our way through the throng and into the kitchen where it was even more crowded. The entire island in the middle of the room was covered with multicolored alcohol bottles. At least four blenders were churning up fruity daiquiris and margaritas.

  Following my gaze, Wyatt eyed the drinks. “Want one?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Actually, I was more than sure. A little sip or two of alcohol would probably do a world of good to calm my nerves.

  Wyatt pushed aside two already inebriated people to grab me a strawberry daiquiri and him a beer. Even though he was jostled by the crowd, he managed to get back to me without spilling anything.

  “Thanks,” I replied, taking a sip of the sugary sweet mixture. The jolt of rum coated my throat and burned a trail down to my stomach. “Man, I think that’s ninety percent rum and maybe ten percent daiquiri mix!”

  Wyatt grinned when I shuddered. “You know, I didn’t peg you as someone who drank much.”

  “Oh really?”

  He downed half of his beer. “You’re a Goody-Goody, Jules, and we both know it.”

  “Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ll have you know that my dad has always been big on not sheltering me or my brothers. So, I have a drink or two every now and then.”

  “I don’t buy that one for a minute. He freaked about your slutty ensemble so I highly doubt he lets you booze it up.”

  “Okay, so maybe he only lets us toast some of Granddaddy’s favorite white tequila after we’ve captured a really tough fugitive.”

  “I knew it!”

  I had just taken another sip of my daiquiri when I heard Jackson call my name. I spun around, and then almost dropped my drink. Standing next to him was Bryn. The very sight of her made me feel like someone had taken a two by four to my abdomen.

  “Hey, glad you could make it,” Jackson said, with a broad smile.

  I had to fight to find my voice. “Yeah, thanks for inviting me.” I turned to Bryn. “When did you get back?”

  “Just a little while ago. I couldn’t pass up one of Jackson’s parties.” In her short, spaghetti strapped dress, she appeared to have gotten the ‘show cleavage’ memo. She gave me a superior look before linking her arm through Jackson’s. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him while I was gone. It’s nice that he can think of you as family, too.”