by Hamel, B. B.
“Okay,” I say.
“But you have to stay here this time. Stay in this fucking cabin. I won’t be long.”
“I’ll stay,” I say.
“Good. Don’t wander off. I’ll be back soon.”
He hesitates a second before leaving. The door shuts behind him and I sigh.
What a mess. But slowly I smile.
He’s going to take me away from here.
I’m grinning when I sit down in front of the TV with my coffee. I sip it and flip through the channels idly, trying not to let my smile turn into a grin.
What a weird life I’m living. I’m ecstatic not just because I have this new guy, but because he’s promising to take me away.
I know it’s a cliché. I’m not exactly original here, wanting to get away from my small town. But I’ve really never left Pine Grove and I’ve always wanted to go anywhere else.
I want to be free. But maybe, just maybe, I can be his captive and still be free.
I stretch out on the couch and feel strangely at ease for the first time in a long time. I should probably be afraid or worried or nervous considering I’m living with a killer. But instead I just feel…
At peace. Weirdly at peace.
I feel my eyes fluttering after a few hours. Before I fall asleep, I realize where this feeling is coming from.
My father is dead and I don’t have to live in fear of being beaten every single day. Not having that stress is like living with a weight lifted off my chest.
I drift off and take a nap. I’m not sure how long I’m out but by the time I wake back up, there’s afternoon light streaming in through a window.
I stretch and sigh. As I slowly sit up, there’s a noise from the back of the house that makes me go absolutely still.
I hear it again. It’s a dull thud and I swear someone cursed. It doesn’t sound like Rowan since I would’ve woken up if he just came in through the front door. I get up to my feet and walk into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as I possibly can. I grab a long kitchen knife from the block and hold it up in front of me.
I can hear noise coming from my room now. There’s a person back in there rifling through all my things.
My heart’s hammering in my chest and any feeling of peace and calm is completely gone now. My stomach’s doing flips and I wonder if I should just run out the front door.
But I don’t have anywhere to go. I can try and walk back to town again although it would take me a long time. Whoever’s out here probably has a car.
I could puncture his tires but…
God, I don’t know what to do. I realize vaguely that I’m panicking. I’m paralyzed by fear and uncertainty and I’m just standing here in the kitchen holding this knife like I’d ever actually use it on another person.
I’ve never killed someone. Hell, I’ve never even hurt someone. For all the shit my father’s put me through, I never once hit him back even when I really wanted to.
I hear the door to my bedroom open. The man steps out into the hallway, his heavy boots thumping quietly on the wooden floor as he walks closer toward me.
I clench my jaw. The TV is still on and he can definitely hear it now. I’m sure he knows I’m here or at least he knows someone’s in this room.
I press myself up against the counter, trying to shy away from the entrance to the back hall. The footsteps are getting closer and I want to scream but I’m too paralyzed to do even that.
He steps through the threshold and pauses there. I get a good look at him before he notices me. Shorter than Rowan but still bigger than me with long greasy dark hair, a messy beard, torn jeans, leather vest, and a dirty gray t-shirt underneath it. The guy looks like a biker that hasn’t showered in a couple days.
And he’s holding a gun in his right hand, the barrel pointed down at the floor.
He grunts. “Anyone here?” he asks in a gravelly voice.
I try to inch back but as soon as I move, I run into a glass that’s been left out to dry. It rattles and the man’s eyes shoot over to me, a cruel little smile passing his lips.
“Ah,” he says. “Didn’t know I’d have company.”
“Who are you?” I blurt out.
He turns in my direction. The gun’s still pointed down at the floor but he’s holding it in both hands now like he’s ready to use it.
“Where’s Rowan?” he asks me. “Him and me gotta have a chat.”
“Are you… Fish?”
The man barks a little laugh. “Do I look like fucking Fish? Nah, I’m his representative.”
I slowly back away from him until I run up against the sink. He gives me a grin and walks slowly toward me.
“You’re the girl, huh?” he asks. “Fish said old scumbag Joey had a daughter. Didn’t know you were so pretty.”
I grip the knife tighter. “Stop,” I say. “Don’t come closer.”
He cocks his head. “You gonna stab me with that?”
“I’ll cut off your balls,” I say with more force than I really feel.
He laughs again. “Look at you, all big and bad. You’re spending too much time with that fucking killer.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here to talk with your boyfriend.” He stops about an arm’s length away from me, gun still lowered. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “He went out.”
The man grunts. “Guess we’ll have to wait for him.”
Suddenly he lunges at me. I react, flinging my arms up to defend myself. He grabs my wrist and twists it, forcing the knife from my hand. It clatters onto the tile floor.
I groan in pain as he twists my arm behind my back and shoves the gun against my head.
“There now,” he says. “That’s better. I bet you’re used to this kind of treatment from Rowan, huh?”
“Get off me,” I say, struggling. But his grip is tight and the gun’s barrel is cold against my head.
“You’d better calm the fuck down, girl,” he says. His breath is rotten and I want to gag. “Come on.”
He drags me from the kitchen. I stumble forward, gun to my head, before he shoves me into a chair.
“He’s not coming back,” I say.
“Yeah, he is,” the man answers. He looks around the room. “Now where the fuck would he keep rope?”
The man lowers his gun and steps away from me, looking around the room. As soon as he turns his back, the front door bursts open and three loud bursts break the air to pieces.
I gasp and fall sideways out of the chair. My ears are ringing like fireworks just went off next to my skull. Rowan steps into the room, holding his Glock up in front of him in both hands, eyes narrowed and serious. He walks slowly forward and I follow his gaze.
The man’s lying face down on the ground, blood streaming from three bullet wounds in his back. He groans as Rowan reaches him and kicks the gun out of his hands. It slides across the floor and stops with a thud against the far wall.
“Who the fuck are you?” Rowan growls as he grabs the guy and turns him over.
The man grins at him with bloody teeth and lets out a loose, wet cough.
“Fish sent me,” he says.
“Sent you to kill me?”
“If the talking didn’t go well.” He coughs again. “Guess we didn’t get to that part.”
“Fucking Fish,” Rowan growls.
“He’s not happy with you,” the man struggles to say. “Not happy at all.”
“I figured.” Rowan drops him and steps back. My eyes go wide as he points the gun at the man’s skull and pulls the trigger.
I crawl away from the two of them and press my back against the wall. I stare as Rowan sighs and puts his gun down on the counter. He turns to me with a frown on his face before hurrying over.
“Are you okay?” he says.
I nod once, eyes wide with fright.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says. “But we need to get going now.”
“What? Where?”
He takes my hands and gently helps me to my feet.
“Go pack,” he says softly. “Get all your stuff.”
“What’s happening?”
He sighs, glancing back at the dead man’s body. “Fish sent that guy to hurt us,” he says. “And there will be more when he doesn’t report back in. We have to leave.”
“I thought you said we can’t run.”
“We can’t,” he says. “But we can hide, at least for now.”
“Hide?”
He nods once. “Come on. Get moving.”
I stand there like my feet are made of lead but slowly I manage to drive them forward. It’s like I’m walking with lead feet at the bottom of the ocean but I do it anyway, one foot in front of the other until I make it into my room.
It’s trashed, my bag ripped open, the contents thrown all over. I manage to shove most of it back inside and zip it back up by the time Rowan appears in the door with his own bag on his shoulder.
“Come on,” he says. “We have to move.”
I let him lead me away from the cabin. He stops only to grab his gun and a stack of cash hidden behind some alcohol bottles in the back of a lower cabinet. He slips the money into his bag and we head out front.
I climb into the cab of his truck feeling lightheaded and confused. He starts the engine and looks at me.
“Allie,” he says gently. “Hey.”
I slowly look him in the eye. He takes my hand and holds it.
“We’re going to be fine,” he says. “I promise. We’ll be okay.”
I nod slowly, not sure if I believe him, but willing to try.
He starts the engine of the truck and we pull out, driving away from the bloody scene.
10
Rowan
Killing that guy was probably the wrong move but goddamn, it felt fucking good.
I saw what he did to Allie. When I got home from digging into the drug connection, I spotted the guy’s truck and instantly knew something was wrong. I watched him grab Allie in the kitchen and shove a fucking gun to her temple.
Maybe he just wanted to talk. But as soon as he wasn’t pointing that thing at her anymore, I kicked down the door and took him out.
Nobody hurts her. Fucking nobody hurts her and lives. Maybe he just wanted to negotiate some shit but it doesn’t matter to me anymore.
He put a gun against Allie’s head. He had to fucking die for it.
I growl to myself as I pull into the parking lot of this cheap motel called the Motor Court. It has this stupid crown for a logo and I always thought it looked absolutely cheesy as fuck, but whatever. It’s cheap and it’s out of the way and we can stay here for a little while at least. Fish’ll start looking for us and he’ll probably check here sooner or later, but there are enough motels in Pine Grove that I think we’ll have some time.
“You okay?” I ask Allie as I kill the engine.
She just shrugs. “Ears are still ringing.”
I grin. “Guns are fucking loud. They don’t show that on TV.”
She looks at me for a second. “What are we going to do?”
“Get a room,” I say. “From there… we’ll work it out.”
I climb out of the truck and she follows me.
“Work it out?” she asks, catching up as I stride toward the front office. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m working on something but I don’t have a solid answer for you yet.”
“Rowan, wait.” She grabs my arm and I stop, turning to face her. “That guy, I think he was sent to hurt us.”
“I think so too.”
“And you think Fish will send more?”
“No matter where we go, sooner or later he’ll try and catch up.”
“So how do we get out of this?”
I hate the fear in her eyes. She’s been through so much and she doesn’t deserve this. I reach out and gently touch her cheek. Part of me wishes I weren’t a brutal fucking killer at times like this.
But part of me knows I need to be brutal if we’re going to get away from this situation.
“I’ll work it out,” I say gently. “I promise. Just trust me.”
She hesitates but takes a breath and nods. “I trust you.”
“Good.” I drop my hand. “Come on.”
We head into the front office and get a room with cash. I give the guy at the desk a little extra to forget we ever checked in. He gives me a toothy grin and nods like he gets that sort of request a lot.
Hell, in Pine Grove, I bet he does.
We check into our room and get settled. She takes a quick shower and I sit at the little table near the front window watching the parking lot in case we were followed.
It looks clear and when Allie comes out, I have a pretty good idea of what we need to do next.
She sits on the end of the single queen bed and takes off her towel. I feel my heart jump in my chest and my cock stiffen as she slips on underwear, jeans, and a long sleeve Henley shirt, the top two buttons left open showing just enough of her perfect fucking breasts. She smiles at me when she notices me watching her.
“Still thinking about that even though you killed a guy like an hour ago?” she asks.
“I’m always thinking of that with you,” I growl at her but manage to take a deep breath. “Right now though, we gotta take a trip.”
“A trip?” she asks.
I sigh. “Yeah. There’s a guy I’ve heard about, likes to hang out at that bar in town, the one we followed our target to. You remember it?”
“Sure,” she says. “Hammy’s, right?”
“Right,” I respond, nodding. “This guy, he’s a regular there. I heard some of Fish’s boys talking about him once, about how he knows everything that goes on in this city. I want to ask him some things.”
“Is that safe?” she asks, biting her lip.
“Not at all. But we have to do something and I can’t leave you here. So we’re both going.”
She nods slowly. “Okay then. I trust you.”
“Good girl.” I stand and walk over to her. I tilt her chin up. “Very good girl.”
I lean over and kiss her hungrily. I manage to break the kiss off before it goes any further.
We get back in the truck and hit the road not long later. She looks sexy with still damp hair and it takes all my strength not to make a detour between her legs.
Hammy’s is relatively empty in the middle of the day and we get a parking spot right next to the door. I think about telling her to stay put but I figure she’s safer right next to me. We get out and head into the bar, stepping from the bright afternoon sunlight into a windowless drab room with a single older woman tending bar.
There are a few guys sitting around. I don’t recognize any of them, but I know the one sitting at the very end with his back to the wall is our man.
“He goes by Fox,” I say softly to Allie. “I don’t know how much he knows but if our boy was coming here every day, chances are people in here know something.”
“Why do you think he’ll help us?” she asks me quietly.
“I don’t,” I admit. “But I’m hoping I can be persuasive.”
She gives me a worried look but I leave it at that. I head right over to the man, not bothering to wait around.
Fox is older, maybe in his sixties. Thin with silver hair, his expression is neutral and almost bored when I pull up a stool. He glances at me and Allie for a second before inclining his head.
“Are you the guy making all that trouble for Dean?”
I blink at him, taken off guard. “Excuse me?”
“Dean Fish,” he says, his voice clipped and proper. “Are you the one that’s been pissing him off?”
I clear my throat. “Probably,” I admit.
“Well, good for you then.” Fox gives me a wan little smile and swirls the drink in his glass, making the ice cubes clink together.
I clear my throat. “How do you know about me?”
“I hear things,” he admits. “Dean’s some
thing of an old friend of the family. He doesn’t exactly love me but he doesn’t bother me either.”
“So you know about his business then?” I ask.
Fox lets out a soft chuckle. “You could say that. You’re an eager one, aren’t you?”
“I guess I don’t have a lot of time to play games.”
He looks at me again with that bored little smile. “I guess not.” He looks past me and at Allie, nodding slowly. “Sorry about your dad.”
I feel her go completely still. “Thanks,” she whispers.
“Shame how he went. But he was an asshole, after all.”
“Did you know him?” Her voice is strangely urgent.
“I knew him,” Fox says. “Came in here sometimes. He was a drunk and an asshole. He really enjoyed regaling everyone with his stories of derring-do. All of it completely fabricated, of course.”
I feel her smile slightly. “Sounds like him.”
“Shame he decided to try to make some of those stories come true.” Fox gives her another nod and looks at me. “You’re not so evil now, are you, Mr. Green?”
I wince when he says my last name. “Rowan. And it depends on who you ask. The corpse at my cabin right now would probably say I’m a cold son of a bitch.”
“Ah,” Fox says, musing slightly, apparently unperturbed by the mention of the dead body. “Cold and evil aren’t the same thing now, are they? Evil kills because evil likes to kill, enjoys it, has a passion for it. Cold kills because sometimes killing is necessary. Which one are you, Rowan?”
“I’m trying to quit the killing,” I say softly. “But your old family friend Dean Fish keeps dragging me back in.”
Fox lets out a beleaguered sigh. “I’m not surprised. Dean is very… persistent.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“That’s another way of putting it.”
I clench my jaw. The other guys in the bar are studiously looking away from this conversation and even the woman cleaning glasses is pretending like she’s not paying attention. I know I probably don’t have much more time.
“I need to know about Dean’s business,” I say to Fox. “I need to know about the drugs coming into Pine Grove.”
Fox raises an eyebrow. “Drugs, huh?”
“There has to be a place to keep them. Warehouse somewhere maybe. Or a business he uses as a front.”