Summer Nights

by Sanders, Jill

“No”—he shook his head and finished setting out all the harnesses—“there isn’t.” When he glanced back, he was shocked to see a black pistol aimed directly at his stomach. He froze, his heart stopping completely in his chest. He blinked once, slowly, to make sure he hadn’t been seeing things. “Ryan? What is this about?” He raised his hands, his mind going blank as he tried to think his way out of the situation.

  “You think you can just blow me off? All three of you. You played me.” The look in her eyes was something he’d never seen before. Mad was the only thing he could think. She’d gone crazy.

  He watched the gun waver slightly and felt his heart kick hard in his chest at the thought of feeling a bullet rip through his flesh at any moment.

  “Easy,” he said.

  “I won’t be ignored.” Her voice rose again.

  “I’m not ignoring you.” Slowly, he moved toward her just an inch. Thoughts of grabbing the gun or making a run for it flashed through his mind. But she was blocking the stairs to the hut. He’d never thought he’d ever have to deal with a gun being pointed at him. He hadn’t planned or trained for this. Ever.

  “No.” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. For a moment, he thought he noticed her take control of her emotions; then her eyes turned again, and crazy Ryan was back. “You aren’t ignoring me now.”

  “No,” he admitted and started to move forward again.

  “Stop,” she warned, the gun rising slightly. Now it was pointed at his chest.

  He held up his hands again. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “You could have not ignored me to start with. Just given me what I deserved,” she said, shifting her feet so that she blocked the stairs completely.

  He knew that it was almost half an hour before any of the guests for the next run would be arriving. A lot could happen in half an hour. Hell, all it took was one second for things to turn deadly.

  “What do you deserve?” he asked in what he hoped was a calm voice, while his heart raced.

  “Everything.” She narrowed her eyes. “Leo promised me things.”

  He stilled. “You . . . know my father?” His heart caught in his throat.

  Ryan laughed, throwing her head back. “Of course I know him. Why do you think I got this job in the first place? I followed you three in hopes that you’d lead me to him. He took off on me. I had plans for him.”

  He figured it was now or never, since her eyes were slightly unfocused as she spoke, and he was just about to move, to rush her, when a flash of a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He watched in horror as Zoey rushed across the trail and up the stairs quickly, knocking into Ryan from the side.

  Their two bodies flew through the air, both of them landing in the bushes on the side of the steps in a heap.

  He scrambled forward, crying out Zoey’s name, fear causing bile to almost surface as thoughts of Zoey with a bullet hole in her filled his mind.

  Then he stood back and watched in amazement as Zoey drew a fist back and punched Ryan directly in the face. In one quick move, the other woman was out cold.

  “Bitch,” Zoey spat, still sitting on top of Ryan, holding her down. Then she turned to look at him. “Grab that gun, just in case she comes to.” She nodded to the gun, lying in the dirt a foot away from Ryan’s unconscious form.

  He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating it all, and then he picked up the gun and flipped on the safety. He set it on the stairs, well out of the other woman’s reach.

  Then he moved over and pulled Zoey up from Ryan’s unconscious body. He wrapped his arms around Zoey and held on to her.

  “My hero—my god, I love you.” The words burst from him, and he kissed her. He didn’t regret them one bit and said them again when he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I mean it.”

  She smiled up at him. “You’re just saying that because that was an amazing flying tackle.”

  “That, and can I say, wow—what a right cross you have? Remind me never to piss you off.” He chuckled.

  “What the hell is going on?” A voice sounded behind them.

  “Call the cops.” He turned and looked at the man, then recognized Reed Cooper and pointed toward the hut. “Cell’s on the counter.”

  Turning back to Zoey, he bent down and kissed her again and held on to her like his life depended on it.

  “Don’t ever do something that crazy again,” he whispered into her hair before letting her go.

  Ryan was moaning and moving around, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t try anything else.

  “I called 911; the cops are on the way,” Reed said. “I also called the main office. Julie assured me she’d make sure the police were escorted here quickly.”

  “Help me out?” he asked Reed and grabbed a large zip tie from the drawer behind the counter. Reed had pulled the woman up to stand and was holding her hands behind her back as she jerked in his arms and tried to get free. She stopped and glared at him as he slipped the ties over Ryan’s hands and tightened them.

  “What do you know about my father?” he asked, turning her around to face him.

  Ryan smiled. “More than you do.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” he asked. Her smile grew, and she remained silent.

  Zoey walked up and tilted her head as she looked at Ryan.

  “She’s playing you. I doubt she even knows your father.” Zoey started to move away.

  “I do too—I know he’s in Mexico right now,” Ryan blurted out.

  “Mexico?” Dylan’s hands tightened into fists as Ryan smiled up at him. “Where in Mexico?”

  Ryan must have realized that she was giving him what he wanted, because her smile fell away, and she shut her mouth.

  Dylan jerked her around and forced her to sit on the steps so she wouldn’t run away from them. Then, with her hands tied behind her back, she crossed her legs and managed to look like she was sitting there on the steps enjoying the sunny day, instead of waiting for the police to show up and haul her to jail.

  “She won’t talk anymore,” Zoey said. “Like I said, she’s bluffing.”

  “I doubt that will work a second time,” Reed managed.

  “Oh, I’m not playing her.” Zoey chuckled and wrapped an arm around Dylan. “I just no longer care what she has to say.”

  Less than five minutes later, a golf cart came barreling up the road. Elle and Scarlett rode in the front, while Hannah held on to the back.

  They all seemed to jump from the cart and rush them at the same time.

  “Is everyone okay?” Elle asked as Scarlett wrapped her sister in her arms.

  “You’re bleeding again,” Scarlett said, pulling Zoey’s elbow up to get a look at it.

  He hadn’t even checked her out after the tackle. He’d just been glad that she hadn’t had any new holes that were spewing blood.

  “Here, I’ll take care of it.” He picked her up and marched up the stairs; then, after setting her on top of the counter, he pulled out the first aid kit.

  “It’s just a scratch,” she began, but he shushed her.

  Scarlett stood over him, watching him as he cleaned the cut. Zoey filled her in on what had happened.

  “I was coming out here to tell you that we talked it over and decided that we could stay in the Bear-Foot Bungalow,” Zoey admitted.

  “Bear-Foot . . .” Dylan frowned as Zoey laughed.

  “Our cabin. Instead of opening it up to guests, we can stay there—at least until my place is built.”

  “Your . . .” He shook his head. “Wait, you named our cabin Bear-Foot Bungalow?”

  “It was Elle’s idea.” Zoey gestured toward the doorway, where Elle stood, smiling at them.

  “You’re welcome to it, until Zoey’s place is finished. I’ll go out and wait for the police. Reed seems to have Ryan under control.”

  “Thanks.” Zoey smiled at Elle.

  “I’ll go, um, too . . . bye.” Scarlett rushed from the hut and shut the do
or behind her.

  “You’re having a place built?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I thought we could talk to Aiden and have him draw us up some plans for our own place.”

  “You want to build a place with me?” he asked, his hands going to her hips as he stepped closer to her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “Don’t you want to wake up next to me every day?” she asked.

  “Every day,” he agreed before kissing her.

  There was a knock on the door, interrupting them.

  “Sorry, the police are here,” Reed called out. “They’ll need to talk to you both.”

  He quieted. “Do you think she really knows anything about my dad?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Ryan’s the type of woman who’ll say anything, do anything, to get what she wants. She wanted attention from you, and she got it.”

  “She wanted more than that. She wanted me to jet her around the world, spend money on her, I suppose, and to be famous.”

  “I still don’t understand how being around you would make her famous?” she asked as he helped her down from the countertop. “I get that you’re rich, but—”

  “The Costa family is somewhat famous in this area,” he admitted. “I guess she figured she could work off that popularity.”

  “I’ve done a search on you. You’re not that famous.” Zoey chuckled.

  He shrugged, feeling stupid. “My dad is kind of . . . Anyway. He’s donated a lot to the city, he’s in the paper a lot, and he’s even been on television a few times.”

  “That doesn’t make you famous,” she said as they opened the door. “Just being around you wouldn’t have given her fame.”

  “It would have given her something, or at least she thought so.”

  A female officer was putting Ryan in the back of an SUV patrol car. A male officer approached them.

  “Dylan,” he sighed. “I heard it was you. Are you okay?”

  Dylan glanced at Zoey. “Yeah. Brett, this is Zoey—she saved my life.” He nodded. “Zoey, Brett Jewel.”

  “Officer Jewel.” He held out a hand for Zoey. “Dylan and I went to school together.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Zoey shook his hand. “Did you go to school around here?” She frowned up at Dylan.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “We all did.”

  “I bought my house from his dad,” Reed broke in.

  “You . . .” Zoey frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She dropped her arm from his.

  “I didn’t think that it really mattered.”

  “You used to live across the camp; you grew up there. It mattered.” He could tell she was retreating.

  “We moved out when I was sixteen.” Then he added, “Moved to Destin.” He turned to the man. “Brett, what do you need from us? I’d like to take Zoey back and let her clean up.” He nodded to her bandages.

  “Oh, right.” Brett pulled out his notepad.

  Dylan and Zoey answered all the questions Brett had, then took one of the golf carts back to the main building.

  He stopped Zoey from leaving him on the stairs by following her up to the third floor. Not giving her a chance to deny him access, he held the door open for her.

  “We’re going to talk about this,” he said softly.

  She nodded and motioned for him to sit down.

  “Beer?” she asked calmly.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Well, I need a freaking case of wine.” She walked over, took a bottle and a glass, then sat down and poured a full glass.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “I assumed you grew up in Destin,” Zoey said after swallowing half the glass of wine. It was stupid, but now that she’d cooled off, she found herself shaking. Maybe it was because on the short cart ride back to the main building, her mind had gone over all the possibilities.

  What would have happened if she hadn’t shown up to tell Dylan about the cabin? Ryan could have shot him.

  Or, if Ryan hadn’t been distracted, she could have been the one to have been shot. They could both be dead. So many different outcomes.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you.” He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair. “Does it really matter?”

  She thought about it: about all the years she had spent here, about this place as her second home, while he was just across the water.

  “No, I suppose not.” She leaned back. “To be honest, I’m coming down from an adrenaline rush.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m not sure what’s what anymore.”

  “Why don’t you head in and take a rest. We can meet later.” He grinned. “So . . . Bear-Foot Bungalow later tonight to finish our talk?”

  She nodded, feeling that her mind was too tired to even focus.

  “Dylan.” She stopped him when he got up. “I’m sure Ryan didn’t know anything more about your dad. I would even question if he’s really in Mexico at this point. Anyone who would do what she did has to have a few screws loose.”

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Still, it would have been nice to know more. Just a hint at where he might be.”

  “We’ll find out something. I promise: we won’t stop helping you until he’s back home, safe.” She felt all her energy seep from her.

  “Rest,” he said. “I’ll have Isaac make us something special and bring it to the cabin.”

  She rested her head back on the sofa and could have just fallen asleep right there. “Okay,” she mumbled, then decided the sofa was just as good as her bed. “I’m so glad you didn’t get shot.” She hadn’t heard him move, but suddenly, his lips were brushing hers. “You scared me.”

  He whispered, “Sleep,” and pulled her legs up onto the sofa, removed her running shoes, then covered her with a blanket that Aubrey had knitted one summer.

  “I love you too, you know,” she said, but she had drifted off and didn’t know if she’d thought it or said it out loud.

  Scarlett’s glare met her as she awoke.

  “Oh god,” she groaned. “Not what I wanted to wake up to. That ugly mug.” She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  “You slept for two hours.” Scar sat down next to her. “Dylan stood guard at the door and wouldn’t let any of us in here until now. He left to head over to the kitchen to get you dinner. He told me to let you know he’d see you in an hour.” She shifted on the sofa, causing the entire thing to bounce.

  The thing was as old as the camp was, the springs having broken long ago; they had replaced them with thick pillow stuffing so that it was easily the most comfortable sofa she’d ever sat on. Actually, the entire apartment was packed with furniture that had seen better days but had been turned into pieces of beauty, all thanks to Hannah.

  “Did you really tackle Ryan while she held a gun on Dylan?” Aubrey asked from her spot at the bar.

  They had another bottle of wine out—her glass got refilled.

  “Yes.” She glanced down at her watch. “Oh no . . . I have a class.”

  “Taken care of.” Elle waved. “What’s the point of being bosses if we can’t delegate a little, especially after you stop a murder?”

  “Oh god,” she sighed, and it hit her again. “She could have killed Dylan.” She set her glass down and cradled her head in her hands.

  “Easy,” Hannah said, sitting beside her. “She’s got it bad.”

  “I love him,” she moaned. “How stupid is that?”

  The room was quiet, so she chanced glancing up. Everyone looked at her like they had all known the joke hours ago.

  “Well? Don’t expect us to argue with you.” Elle smiled. “Anyone who’s crazy enough to tackle a gunman—or gunwoman, as it were—is obviously in love.”

  She turned to Scar, who just smiled and nodded at her. “Mom’s known longer than us. She told me weeks ago. That’s why I moved the schedules around. So you could see it for yourself.”

  “You . . .” Her eyes moved to Elle. “I thought it was you?”
/>   “Nope.” Elle shook her head. “No clue until I saw the way he carried you up those stairs at the zip line hut, two hours ago.” She slid down into the chair, her glass of wine held tight to her chest. “If only someone would look at me like that.”

  “What about Liam?” Scar interrupted, causing Elle to laugh.

  “Right. He’s just horny.” She shook her head. “So am I.”

  Hannah broke in. “Horny could lead to love.” Everyone looked at her. “Well, it could.” She shrugged. “Can’t it?”

  Zoey stood up. “I’m going to go shower, then change before dinner.”

  “So you really are moving into the cabin with him?” Scar asked.

  “Yes. You can have the room all to yourself now.”

  Scar frowned. “I’ll miss you.”

  Zoey chuckled. “I’m going about a quarter of a mile away, not to Japan.”

  “So.” Scar stood up and hugged her. “We’ve never shared a room before. It was fun while it lasted.”

  Zoey hugged her back. “Don’t make me cry. I’m overflowing with emotions right now.”

  “Fine, but you still have to do girls’ night up here,” Scar added.

  “Duh!” She playfully shoved her sister.

  “Zoey,” Elle called to her as she left the room. “If anyone ever pulls a gun on me, I want you to rescue me.”

  “Me too,” Hannah said, followed by Aubrey.

  “Super Zoey.” They all chuckled as she went to pack up her stuff and shower.

  She came out to find her friends waiting for her.

  “Stop.” She held up her hands after setting her bags down. “Seriously—I’m going across the camp, not the country.”

  “It’s not that, it’s just . . . we took a vote, and, well, we have something for you.” Elle pulled out a small box from behind her back. “Since you’re the first to fall in love.”

  “You were in love,” she countered.

  “No.” Elle shook her head. “You all knew that it wasn’t love too.”

  “Okay.” Zoey moved forward and, taking a deep breath, took the small box from Elle’s fingers. She’d never thought she’d be the one to receive it, but now, as she opened the small box, she smiled at the innocents they had all once been.

  A small unicorn ring sat tucked inside, much like it had the day the five of them had placed it inside.