by Jill Sanders
“Your dinner is on the house.” Rico motioned to Reagan’s burger and drink before turning around and heading back to the bar.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. If he had been there last night, I’m sure you wouldn’t have been jumped.” He motioned for her to slide into the booth again, then sat on his side once more.
“Are you okay?” she asked, seeing a small bruise form under the bigger one from last night.
“Yeah.” He touched his jaw, then picked up his beer. “Nothing a cold beer and a free meal can’t solve,” he joked, but his eyes remained on her. “How about you?”
Chapter 5
How was she? Clara thought to herself as she finished her shift. She’d blown Reagan off earlier when he’d asked her, since she hadn’t technically been on break and her customers needed attention.
Thankfully, she’d been able to avoid chatting with him any more during her shift, since a large group of tourists had arrived after that.
Now, it was only half an hour until closing and the place was emptying out. Reagan hadn’t moved from his spot, except to step outside for a phone call.
Since he’d mentioned that whoever had attacked her last night had come specifically for her, she’d found it hard to focus.
The fact was, she knew exactly what she needed to do. She needed to pack up and leave. Tell Rico she was moving on, give notice at her apartment, and disappear again.
She’d planned where she’d go next, shortly after she’d arrived in town almost a year ago. She found it better to think things through earlier on rather than at the last moment.
She even had a bug-out bag packed in the bottom of her closet. One which she had hoped she wouldn’t ever have to use. Now, she was thinking about the long drive that she was going to have to make that night. There was no time like the present. If the guy that had attacked her was still around, there was nothing stopping him from coming back tonight or the next day. She was living on borrowed time.
“Are you okay?” Rico asked her once she closed out her account for the night.
She leaned on the counter and felt her eyes sting. “I… Rico, I… need a break.” She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying.
His eyes ran over her. “Sure thing, baby girl. Take a few days…” She shook her head, stopping him.
“I need longer than that.” Her eyes moved past him and landed on the back of Reagan’s head. “It might be best if you look for another waitress.”
Rico’s hand rested on her arm. “This isn’t about today… I told you, I thought he was—”
“No.” She straightened. “It has nothing to do with Reagan.” After all, that was the truth, right? Reagan wasn’t what had spooked her.
“Then what?” Rico asked.
“I just… need to go home,” she lied.
Rico stared at her for a moment. “To Texas?”
She’d forgotten she’d told him she’d come from Dallas. It was partially true. She’d been in Dallas for a few months prior to coming here.
“Yeah.” She nodded and took a deep breath.
“When are you going?” he asked, but she could see the fear in his eyes.
“Tonight.” She avoided his eyes.
When he was silent, she glanced over at him. The frown on his face and the sad look in his eyes told her everything.
No matter what happened, she couldn’t risk Rico getting hurt. The scene from last night had played over in her mind. What if, instead of Reagan stepping out to save her, Rico had been there, and the bullet hadn’t just grazed his neck. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to the man who had looked out for her more than her father ever had.
“Rico, it may just be for a while.” She touched his arm again. “I’ll let you know, after I get there.”
He sighed and shocked her by gathering her up in his arms. “Be safe,” he said and then kissed the top of her head. “You’ve always got a place here if you need one.”
“Thanks,” she said, holding in the tears again.
She doubted she could explain to Reagan why she was crying when he walked her out to her car. Something in her gut told her that if she explained to Reagan that she had to leave, he would talk her out of going.
“You’d better go,” Rico said, dropping his arms from around her. “Your new friend looks like he’s about ready to storm over here and pay me back for the right hook I gave him earlier.”
She glanced over and sure enough, Reagan was watching them. Closely.
She pulled away. “I’d better go.”
“Don’t be a stranger. I expect to hear that you made it home okay,” he said to her. “Stay safe.”
“I will,” she said, wishing she could rush across the bar again and hug him one more time. Instead, she grabbed her purse from behind the counter and walked over to where Reagan was waiting for her.
“What was that all about?” he asked softly when they stepped out into the dark parking lot.
“Rico was just apologizing to me one more time about the scene he made,” she lied, avoiding his eyes. “Do you think it’s safe?” she asked, changing the subject.
“For now.” He turned his attention to the darkness.
She could feel him go from relaxed to tense quickly.
“What?” she asked, just before he pushed her to the ground. Loud popping sounds exploded around them.
She felt part of the wood doors rain down on them, sending shards of glass and wood into her hair and hands as she covered her face, the only part of her body that hadn’t been covered by Reagan’s large form.
“Stay put,” he growled when the night turned silent again.
She couldn’t have moved if she needed to. She was frozen on the sidewalk as his heavy body disappeared from her own.
“What the…” Rico shouted as he rushed to her side. “Are you hurt, baby girl?” he asked her, sitting her up and scanning her for injuries.
“I… I’m…” She bit her bottom lip, but it was too late. This time, the dam holding back her feelings exploded as Rico wrapped her in his arms for a second time that night.
Reagan ran across the parking lot towards the area where he’d seen the dark figure. Luckily, he’d seen the outline of the man and had been able to get Clara down before the shots rang out.
He hated leaving her there on the ground, but he wanted to get some information from this guy, since the last one wouldn’t talk. He’d spent all night with the man he’d caught earlier, and the guy wouldn’t tell him or the local police anything.
Maybe this guy would.
But by the time he got to where he’d seen the figure, the only thing remaining were empty bullet casings.
“Shit.” He sighed and tucked his gun back into his holster.
When he turned around, he was shocked to see Clara’s taillights disappearing out of the parking lot.
He rushed back to where Rico stood. Watching her drive away, he asked, “Where is she going?”
“Dallas.” Rico shook his head. “Tell me that someone didn’t just shoot at her.”
He growled instead of answering and rushed to his truck.
“You’d better protect my girl,” Rico called out.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He peeled out of the parking lot.
When he parked behind her car, blocking her in, he relaxed a little knowing she couldn’t get around him this time.
“What do you think you were doing?” he asked her a few minutes later. He’d leaned against the railing just outside her front door and waited for her, his arms crossed over his chest as he tried to get his breathing and heart rate back to normal. She’d almost been killed. And it would have been his fault for being focused on her instead of her safety.
Clara squealed and dropped a huge overnight bag as she spun around to face him. Her hand covered her heart as she glared at him.
“I’m leaving,” she said when she recovered. She bent to pick up the bag, but he was faster.
; She must have packed everything she owned in the thing. It was almost heavier than she was.
“Going…?” He let his question hang in the air.
“Anywhere but here,” she said quickly as she reached for her bag. He held it out of her reach.
“Good, then you won’t mind if we swing by my hotel room to get my things first.” He tossed the bag over his shoulders and started walking towards his truck.
She rushed to catch up with him. “I’m not… going with you,” she finished at the bottom of the stairs.
He was too busy scanning the parking lot to give her any attention as he tossed her bag in the back of his truck.
“What are you…” She reached for the bag.
“Will your car be okay here?” he asked, holding the door open for her.
“No.” She frowned. “I’m driving it away.” She again reached for her bag, but he stepped in front of her.
“Listen, before you decide to leave your life and everyone that loves you here, come stay with me for a while, at least for a few nights. I’m sure we can figure this out. After all, it is what I do. Remember?” he said softly, touching her shoulders. “Please, let me help.”
He knew the moment she changed her mind. He could see the weariness in her eyes almost consume her.
“Just for a few days,” she said, and he helped her up into the truck.
When he got in beside her, she turned to him. “Where are we going?”
“First things first, will your car be okay here for a while?”
She glanced out the window and nodded. “It’s my assigned spot. Until I give Mrs. Johnson notice, I’m allowed to park there.”
“Good.” He pulled out of the parking lot and started heading home. “My family lives about an hour from here.” He glanced over at her. “I promised my mom and aunt a visit.” He smiled. “You’re going to like them.”
He could feel her tension across the darkness. “It’s not like that,” he added. “You needed a place, a safe place to be.” He shrugged. “Home is the safest place I know.”
Chapter 6
Clara must have fallen asleep shortly after they stopped to get his things from his hotel room. When the truck finally came to a stop, she was jolted awake, forgetful of where she was and what was happening. Then, suddenly, it all came back to her, and she found herself more tired than before.
“We’re here,” Reagan said cheerfully as he glanced out the front window.
A massive house sat in front of them. Almost every light was on in the place, illuminating it like a lighthouse. Its white paint gleamed in the truck’s headlights. There were black shutters on the windows and several brick chimney stacks rose up from the roof. But it was the massive front porch that made the older home charming. It wrapped around both sides of the home, as if embracing it.
“This is home?” she asked, taking in the multiple swings and chairs on the porch, which made the place looked lived in and loved. Potted plants lined each porch step. There were several bird baths, and feeders hung on the corner of the deck area.
“It was once,” he agreed. “Come on in. I called ahead to let them know we were coming.” He jumped out and rushed around to open her door, then reached in for her bag.
She followed him up the stairs, admiring the blooming plants. Once, she’d enjoyed helping her mother work in the flower garden. Long ago. Sadness threatened to surface so she turned away as Reagan opened the front door without even knocking.
“We’re here,” he called out as he set their bags by the front door. Several dogs came rushing towards them. Both large, droopy-looking hounds let out barks, but then Reagan bent down and started giving them attention. They practically jumped into his arms, then rolled on the ground, exposing their bellies while their tongues fell out of their mouths.
“This is Chase,” he said looking up at her, “and that one is Catch.” He nodded to the other dog. “Brothers.” He laughed when they almost knocked him over. “Okay, go on now.” He snapped his fingers, which had the dogs disappearing into the house. “My grandfather says he started collecting dogs when he couldn’t keep up with kids anymore.” He chuckled as he stood back up. “Mom?” he called out. “Dad?” he said loudly again.
“They might be asleep,” she said in hushed tones.
“No, they live down the street. Just my granddad lives here now with the mutts. They must be out back.” He motioned for her to follow him through the house.
She admired the gleaming hardwood floors and modern furniture as they passed through the house quickly.
“We’re here,” he called out again as they stepped out of the back screen door.
“There you are.” A blonde woman jumped up from a chair arranged around a stone firepit, a glass of wine in her hands. She rushed over to Reagan and hugged him. The two men were slower to come join her.
The younger man pulled Reagan into his arms and hugged him. Even though Reagan overshadowed the man in height, Clara could tell instantly that this was his father.
The older man was then gathered into Reagan’s lighter embrace. “How are you doing, Granddad?”
“I’m still kicking,” the man joked, patting his arm. “Who have you brought to us then?”
“Everyone, this is Clara. Clara, my family,” Regan answered.
After quick introductions were made, she was handed a glass of wine and shuffled into a chair around the warm firepit.
“Are you hungry?” Reagan’s mother, Marissa, asked as soon they sat down.
“You know me, I can always eat,” Reagan joked. He took the beer his father offered.
“I’ve got some chicken I can reheat.” His grandfather jumped in. He started to get up, but Roman, Reagan’s father, put his hand on the older man’s shoulder to keep him in his chair.
“I’ll get it, Dad,” he said easily and disappeared into the house.
“So, Clara, I’ve promised my son that I won’t ask too many questions.” Marissa smiled across the fire at her. “I understand this is a… work thing?”
“Yes,” Clara jumped in quickly to confirm. She didn’t want his family to think that he was bringing her home to get their approval. She’d dreamed of having a normal life at one point in her life, but it was no longer a possibility.
“Okay, I’ll keep my nagging mother questions to a minimum then,” Marissa joked as she sipped her own wine. Then her eyes locked with Clara’s. “Where are you from, Clara?” she asked.
Seeing no reason to lie to Reagan’s family, she answered.
“California originally.” She sipped her own wine and relaxed back in the chair, enjoying the warmth of the firepit.
“Did you go to school?”
“Some,” she admitted. She thought of her last day at college.
“Didn’t like it?” Reagan’s grandfather asked.
“No, I loved it,” she admitted. “Very much, but…” She thought of the reason she hadn’t been able to return to classes and frowned. “I needed to move on.”
“Reagan loved it as well, so we were a little surprised when he joined the military. Still, it suited him. So does what he does now.” She smiled at her son.
“Ever since I met the kid,” his grandfather started, “rescuing strays was all he could think about.” The man scratched the dog’s head as it leaned on his knee. “He found these two in a bag tossed on the side of the highway.” He nodded to the dogs.
“They weren’t the first or the last, either,” his mother added with a smile.
“He’s our very own Saint Jude.” His grandfather chuckled.
Is that why he was helping her? Because it was just in his nature? Maybe the sexual tension she’d been feeling was one sided? But what about that kiss?
Her head was starting to swim from the lack of food and weariness brought on by the past twenty-four hours.
“You look tired,” Reagan mentioned, getting her attention.
Sighing, she nodded. “I am.”
“Food’s warmed up,” his fathe
r called out to them.
“We’ll let you head in then.” Marissa stood up. “It’s about time we got home ourselves. Dad, we’ll be by tomorrow to install those new bushes.” She turned to her father.
“Coming in, Granddad?” Reagan asked.
“No, I’m going to sit out here for a little longer. You know where everything is.” He turned to her. “While you’re here, my home is your home. Please, help yourself. If you need anything… just let me know.”
“Thank you.” She stood up and looked at the faces of his family. “All of you.” She followed Reagan inside, past his parents as they said their own goodbyes.
She’d been expecting warmed fried chicken, but what was waiting for them was a full kitchen of food. Grilled chicken breasts in lemon sauce, a huge pan of mashed potatoes with gravy, and spring vegetables.
“If we’re lucky…” Reagan started and then smiled as he stuck his head in the fridge. “Yup, chocolate cake for dessert. Let’s dig in.” He handed her a plate.
After showing Clara the guest bedroom and bathroom, he disappeared into his old bedroom down the hallway, pulled out his laptop, and got to work.
After contacting his client and telling him he’d hit a snag, he did a little more research on her family and her past.
What should have been a simple cut-and-dried case of her sister’s murder still didn’t sit right in his mind. The police had marked the case unsolved but hadn’t been pursuing Clara, even though she was still their main suspect.
Her taking off could be seen as an admission of guilt, yet after watching her for a few days, he began to doubt it. She seemed more scared than guilty. But scared of what?
Her father, Carlo Cruz, had built up his real estate company, Sunset Dreams Realty, from virtually nothing. He’d bought a defunct shopping center for less than a hundred-grand, tore it down, and built a couple of high-rise apartment complexes. Within several years, he was a multi-millionaire.
