by Jill Sanders
“Bitch,” Steve said to her back as she started walking away. Turning back to him, she strolled back and stopped when they were almost nose to nose.
“You’re a thirty-nine-year-old man. Act like it. You can start by getting a damn job.” She narrowed her eyes, feeling her temper rise. Damn, she shouldn’t have let him get to her, but she’d been wanting to tell the guy off ever since he’d put gum in her hair back when she’d been eight. Her mother had taken scissors to her hair instead of taking her into town to have the gum gently removed. She’d ended up going to school with a bald spot.
She left the pair standing in the lobby, deflated and reprimanded.
She had yet to get the new accounting system fully updated with all the inn’s bills and was working on that when Dylan knocked on her door.
“Did you know that your cousin was setting up a rocket on the front yard?” he asked quickly.
“Damn it!” She jumped up and followed him out front just in time to hear the loud explosion and see the white rocket burst into flames. The explosion threw DarCee, who had apparently lit the damn thing, while Steve videoed it all from a safe distance.
DarCee landed more than ten feet away, as what was left of the rocket, still in flames, shot more than thirty feet in the air. She watched in horror and prayed as the ball of flame started falling to the earth. She couldn’t take her eyes from it as it crashed through the windshield of her car.
There were several gasps around her from guests who had gathered to watch the show. Eve cried out and started to race towards her car, only to be held back by Dylan.
“Easy, it could go up,” he said into her ear. He glanced around and then pointed at Genie, who had followed them out front. “Call the fire department.”
Genie quickly disappeared back inside.
Eve stood by, watching the fireball, waiting. When the flames started to get bigger, she groaned.
“Shit.” She closed her eyes. “The rest of my things are in there.”
“Do you have your keys?” Dylan asked.
She gasped in horror. There was no way she was going to let him get close to the burning car. It was one thing for her to put her life in jeopardy, but he had a daughter to think about.
“No,” she answered truthfully. Her keys were up in her grandfather’s room.
“It’s just things,” he told her as the inside of her car burst into hotter flames. “Everyone, stand back.”
It was then that the screaming registered over the sound of the burning car. Everyone turned to see DarCee lying in the grass, her left leg twisted at an odd angle. Her face and hands were charred black and covered in soot and blood.
Steve was standing over her, his camera still pointed at the horror, as if it had all been planned out and his girlfriend of over six months wasn’t in any pain but just acting.
Eve jumped into action. She’d taken enough first aid classes in high school and college to know the basics. “Get the medical kit,” she told Ed, one of the groundskeepers. Every staff member knew where each of the thirty medical kits were on the property, thanks to the mandatory training sessions she’d held last week.
Ed jumped into action and sprinted across the yard, heading towards the closest kit.
When she knelt beside DarCee, Dylan was already there, applying pressure on the worse of DarCee’s cuts.
“No, don’t touch her leg,” he warned her.
“It’s broken,” Eve said, her hands hovering over the woman’s torn shorts, and held in a gag as she noticed a splinter of bone sticking out from just below her knee.
“Yeah, but for now, it’s not the major concern.” He motioned to the spot he’d been holding. “Must have nicked an artery,” he said softly.
Eve turned to Steve and yelled, “Turn that fucking thing off. Give me your shirt to stop the bleeding before I put you up on murder charges instead of just destruction of property and careless abuse.”
That seemed to shake Steve and he set the camera down gently and rushed to stand over DarCee. “It’s really not that bad, is it?”
“Yes,” Dylan answered. “Hold this here,” he said, but Steve just looked at him like he was crazy. Dylan removed his own shirt, since Steve hadn’t moved, and put it over DarCee’s other leg. The white work shirt instantly turned red.
DarCee had fallen back to the grass, her face going pale. Her screaming had stopped.
“Shit, shit,” Eve said over and over. “She’s in shock.”
“Get back, I’m a doctor,” someone said over her shoulder.
One of the guests, Monica Turner—Doctor Monica Turner, Eve remembered—rushed forward.
Eve stood up, pulling Steve away as Dylan helped the doctor until the fire truck arrived. The ambulance took a while longer, since the closest health center was near the airport more than twenty minutes away.
When Steve tried to get in the back of the ambulance, DarCee shoved him away with her unbandaged hand. After the ambulance had left, Steve surprised her by calmly walking over and picking up the discarded camera. Eve was so pissed at that point, she marched over to him, her hands and clothes still splattered with DarCee’s blood. She yanked the camera out of her cousin’s hands. He’d been watching the footage of the horror he’d just filmed, as if checking to make sure he got everything in the shot.
“What the fuck?” she asked, shoving him back a step.
He lifted his hands to push her back, but Dylan was there, a low growl emanating from his chest.
“Touch her, and we’ll need another ambulance,” Dylan warned her cousin.
“I told you not to set that thing off,” she continued, her anger getting the better of her. “I warned you. Not on my property.” She waved her hand to her ruined car. Thankfully, the firemen had arrived in time to put it out before the thing had exploded. “You could have just killed your girlfriend, or anyone else on the property.” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “What would you have done if they had sued? We’re already in deep around here. Do you have the money to pay out a lawsuit if a guest had been hurt?”
Steve shook his head and swallowed. “Lighten up, cuz, no one died. DarCee will be okay. It’s just burns and a broken leg.”
“She’ll be…” Eve took a deep breath. “It should have been you,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You deserve a good bashing, then maybe you’ll grow up.” She turned and started to walk away.
“That is mine.” He motioned towards the camera still in Eve’s hand.
“Not anymore,” she growled out, noticing there was hardly a drop of blood on her cousin’s clothes. “You destroyed my property.” She waved towards her ruined car. “And this is mine since it’s… evidence,” she added, not sure what she was saying. She was seething and coming down from an adrenaline spike. “I changed my mind,” she said after turning away again. “You no longer have until the end of the week to get off my property.” She turned back to her cousin. “You have till the end of the day,” she spat out, and then she marched back to the front door.
Since she was covered in blood and god knows what else, she started climbing the stairs. She stopped when she realized Dylan had followed her. “Come on upstairs. I’ll see if I have a clean shirt for you.” She looked down at his ruined clothes. “And pants.”
She turned to Genie. “Genie, I’m going to help Mr. Steele clean up and get him a change of clothes upstairs from my grandfather’s things. If there are any more… emergencies, call me.” She walked up the stairs, not waiting for Genie to answer her. Dylan followed her silently.
She shut the door behind them, leaned her head back against the wood, and closed her eyes.
“You okay?” Dylan’s soft voice sounded from directly in front of her. Opening her eyes, she looked at him. He was a mess, just like she was. She could see, however, that where she was shaking and coming off a high, he was calm. He’d remained calm the entire time he’d been helping the doctor with DarCee.
“How are you so calm?” she asked, hol
ding her hands out. Realizing she still held on to the expensive camera, she looked down at it as if it were a snake. The thing was heavy with its large Xenon lens, scope, and battery pack. White lettering that said “Blackmagic Designs” crossed the eyepiece. There was a notch out of the rubber around the eyepiece, as if someone had cut out a small lightning bolt. It was the only mark she could see on the camera. Disgusted at how her cousin had acted, she tossed the heavy thing down in the chair.
“I’ve seen worse.” He shrugged.
“You have?” She frowned up at him, remembering that his wife, Palmer’s mother, had died, probably in his arms. “Oh god.”
“No, not with Kendra. I… served a few years in the Navy.”
“You did?” She shook her head. “Why didn’t I know this?”
He shrugged. “It’s not common knowledge.” Dylan moved over and took her shaky hands in his strong ones. Both of their fingers were covered in dried blood.
“God, we look like we’ve just murdered someone.” She rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Breathe,” he said calmly. Just hearing his voice vibrate against her had most of the shaking vanishing. “Have any hard liquor? That usually helps.”
She nodded and motioned towards her grandfather’s mini bar.
When Dylan’s arms dropped away and he stepped aside, she missed his warmth instantly. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried not to shake, but her body had other ideas. Even her teeth started to chatter.
A glass of amber liquid was shoved in front of her nose.
“Drink,” Dylan said calmly. “It will help.”
She did as he asked, wincing at the burning as the large shot of whiskey warmed her from the inside out.
“Better?” he asked once the glass was empty.
“Some,” she admitted, and set the glass down.
“It seems like you just can’t get a break.” He looked down at her bloodied hands.
“Poor DarCee,” she said, closing her eyes as she remembered the woman’s broken body.
“The doc…”
“Monica Turner,” she offered.
“Yeah, she said that the girl had a fighting chance. Thanks to us.”
“Girl?” Eve laughed. “She’s older than us.”
“She is?” Dylan shook his head. “She didn’t act…”
“Yeah.” Eve started pacing, needing to move. Turning, she realized he was looking down at his dirty hands. Suddenly, she felt so bad that she hadn’t offered him a shower yet.
“There’s a shower.” She moved to the room across from her grandfather’s. The room had been turned into a study years ago, but there was still a full bath attached to it. “Help yourself. I’ll find you something you can change into.” She opened one of the last boxes of her grandfather’s clothes. She found a T-shirt that would fit him and a pair of khakis and held them up. “These should fit…” She laughed at the color of the shirt and the symbol on it. “Sorry, I’ll find another shirt.” She started to tuck the shirt back in the box.
“No, this is fine.” He smiled down at the bright pink shirt and the black symbol on it. “Girl Scouts for a cause, huh?” He folded it and took the pants from her.
“My troop sold these to raise money for one of our troop mothers who battled breast cancer.” She smiled up at him. “Reggie was always eager to support me in any way he could.” Her smile slipped a little. “My parents and the rest of my family on the other hand…”
“Don’t.” He set the clean clothes down on the desk and pulled her up until her chest bumped into his as his arms wrapped around her. His eyes ran over her face and she watched them heat. “Let’s not worry about them right now. You’ve been through enough today.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. Then he smiled. “I know it’s a little early in our relationship, but I can’t help but think about showering with you.”
She laughed. She’d needed the change in mood. Then she glanced down at them and cringed. “Maybe when we don’t have to scrub blood off,” she said, knowing that she was too worried about DarCee to enjoy herself. Not to mention seeing if any of her things in the trunk of her car had survived. Her car. She groaned and leaned her forehead against his chest. “My car.”
“We’ll deal with it after we clean up.” His hands stilled. “Go, shower, change. You’ll feel better.”
She sighed and nodded, then reached up on her toes and kissed him. “Thank you, for being here.”
He laughed. “I was supposed to start work, but now… I think I’ll start tomorrow.”
“As your boss, I’ll allow it.” She smiled up at him.
13
Life is a bitch
After showering and pulling on the spare clothes, Dylan waited in the sitting room until Eve stepped out looking just as fresh as she had before the explosion.
“You look…” He smiled. “Like nothing happened this morning.”
She laughed. “You look like my grandfather.”
“I feel like a kid sent home from school after having an accident.” He looked down at his clothes, remembering the two times Palmer had come home wearing someone else’s clothes.
“Did that happen to you a lot as a kid?” she teased.
He chuckled. “No, but now I pack a spare set of clothes in Palmer’s bag each day.”
Her smile slid. “Poor girl.”
“Hey, it wasn’t her fault Patty O’Brian dumped an entire bottle of blue paint on Palmer’s head because she was better at drawing a duck than she was.” He pulled Eve into her arms and, before she could reply, kissed her. “There, that’s much better.”
She smelled like heaven and felt even better. When he dipped his tongue into her mouth, she tasted like spring and sex. The combination was intoxicating, and he had to take another moment to enjoy the soft sounds emanating from her.
“Dylan.” She sighed. “You make it hard for me not to say screw it and stay locked up here for the rest of the day.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Ditto.” Taking her hand, he pulled her towards the door. They stepped out, and she dropped it as a maid rushed towards them.
“What is it, Ezra?” Eve asked, concerned.
“It’s Steve, he’s… You’d better come.” She motioned a few doors down.
Dylan followed them and heard the sounds of furniture breaking. Instead of letting Eve step in, he pulled her aside and stepped in first. Then he ducked and yanked Eve away just as a table lamp flew past their heads and crashed into the doorjamb.
He was on the man before he could throw anything else, possibly hitting Eve or someone else in the room.
“Get off me,” Steve screamed, trying to fight back as Dylan pulled him to the ground, pinning his shoulders to the carpet.
“Not until you calm down.” Dylan sat on the man, holding his arms down like he’d done to a few of his schoolmates when they’d tried to fight him so many years ago.
The man bucked and kicked but was no match for Dylan. Working with his hands had its benefits. That and the weights he lifted on a regular basis.
“Steve, calm down,” Eve said, standing over her cousin’s head, her hands on her hips as she glared down at him. “Before I call the police and have you arrested for destruction of property.”
“You keep threatening me and I’m going to…” Steve started.
“You want to be very careful with what you say next,” Dylan said calmly.
The man stilled and let out a long breath. “I can’t move out. Not yet.” His eyes moved up to Eve’s.
“You should have thought of that before you disobeyed a direct order and shot that rocket off,” she replied. Her hair, still a little damp from the shower, fell into her eyes. She pushed it to the side in frustration. “Let him up,” she added.
“You sure?” Dylan asked her. Her caramel eyes moved to his, then back to her cousin.
“You’re going to behave?” she asked him.
Steve glared up at him, then answered, between gritted
teeth. “Yes.”
Dylan felt all the man’s tension leave his body.
“Eve, if we could…” Roger stepped forward. The man had been standing next to the fireplace as if he had no opinion about the scene in front of him. Eve held up her hand to stop him from interjecting.
“Steve,” she started but shook her head. “I’m sorry, Fray,” she said sarcastically, “is almost forty.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. He could see the headache spread, dulling her eyes. “It’s time he acted like it. He almost killed a woman today, and while she cried and bled out, he stood by and videotaped it like some sort of voyeur of pain.”
Dylan gripped Steve’s arm and pulled the man to his feet easily. He kept his eye on the man just in case he decided to cause more harm.
“I was in shock,” Steve spat back.
“No, you weren’t,” Eve said calmly. “It was plain what you were thinking.”
“What?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest.
“You were thinking…” Eve began then sighed and rolled her shoulders. “That the video would bring in money. You probably hoped it would go viral.”
Dylan looked into the man’s eyes and could see the truth.
“If you really cared about DarCee, you’d be at the hospital instead of throwing a tantrum,” Eve added.
“You didn’t give me a choice. I have to be out of here by tonight,” Steve said angrily.
“You have plenty of time to make sure your girlfriend is okay. It’s not like you shouldn’t already be packed up.” Eve glanced around.
Dylan noticed that there wasn’t a box in the room. No one was getting ready to move out.
“All of you should be packed already,” Eve added with a glare towards her uncle and aunt. “But you don’t even have boxes, something I will rectify today.” She motioned to Ezra. “Have boxes brought up to the rooms.” Ezra nodded before disappearing out the door.
“You bitch,” Steve started, but Dylan glared at him and took a step closer. “Call off your watch dog,” Steve threw out towards Eve.
Eve laughed. “Oh, he’s not my watchdog. He’s an employee, one who just saved the woman you love. Or so you were telling everyone in the dining hall last week, very loudly, as you drank an entire eighty-dollar bottle of whiskey from the bar.” She tilted her head. “That comes out of the profits of the inn. How did you afford the rocket anyway?” she asked out of the blue. Steve didn’t answer her. “Or the camera? That must cost a few thousand dollars. Your YouTube channel doesn’t have that many followers.”