Like he’d been waiting, Tommy pushed his way through the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the service area behind the counter, wiping his hands on a dish towel on his way.
“I think Wade’s right,” Tommy said, coming to stand beside her. “It’s time the two of you head out.” Shifting his weight, he leaned against her and with the slightest nudge of his arm against her own, moving her behind him in a protective gesture that was unmistakable. Melissa threw a brief look over her shoulder. The young man in the back booth wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing, book tossed on the table, watching the exchange. Waiting.
“Oh… is that what you think?” Tommy’s movement grabbed Jed’s attention. He zeroed in him with narrowed eyes. “You think just because your uncle owns this pile of shit and calls it a restaurant, you actually mean somethin’?” Jed said, his tone just as nasty as his glare. Suddenly, that glare slid toward her and shifted into something else. Something that made her feel dirty. “You still haven’t answered my question, Tomahawk—you like peach pie?”
“Get him out of here,” Tommy said to Wade, ignoring Jed completely.
Watching the scene play out over Tommy’s shoulder, Melissa saw the way Wade studied him beneath the curly tangle of light brown hair that fell across his forehead. If a punch was thrown, Wade would undoubtedly enter the fray and it would become two against one. Waiting to see if Wade would decide to play peacemaker or hold Tommy down while Jed threw the punches, Melissa tried to move out from behind Tommy but was sufficiently blocked—his broad, solid back pushed against her, telling her to stay put. Just when the confrontation seemed to be on the brink of inevitable violence, Wade aimed his gaze past them for a moment. What he saw seemed to make up his mind and he stepped forward, an easy smile aimed her way.
“Now ain’t the time,” he said in a low tone, dropping a hand on Jed’s shoulder before pulling him away from the counter with a laugh. “If you plan on gettin’ any tonight you better hurry—Shelley’s curfew’s in a few hours,” he said, deciding to play the peacemaker after all.
“Yeah... I bet you looove you some peach pie, don’t you, half-breed?” Stepping back from the counter, Jed shrugged into his jacket. “You ain’t shit, Onewolf,” he said, baring his teeth in a vicious smile. “You ain’t never gonna have nothin’ or be nothin’ just like your dead injun’ daddy,” he called out in a taunting voice, still trying, even as he was being pulled out the door by Wade, to bait Tommy into a fight.
Tommy’s muscles bunched beneath the thin cotton of his shirt as he readied himself to vault across the counter after Jed. Without thinking, she reached out and laid her hands on his back, silently urging him to resist the bait Jed was dangling.
“See you ‘round, Melissa,” Jed said before being pushed through the door and into the parking lot. A few minutes later Jed’s shiny red convertible sped out of the parking lot, spraying dirt and gravel against the plate glass of the diner window, Wade’s pick-up close behind.
Weak with relief, Melissa laid her cheek against Tommy’s shoulder and let her eyes slip shut. He stood stalk still, arms hanging loose at his sides with hands that clenched themselves into fists as he stared out the wide window of the diner. “Don’t,” he said to her, the word slipping past teeth that were clenched too tight and she instantly remembered who and where she was. “Not here.”
“Sorry,” she said, dropping her hands away from his back, stepping away from him.
“I’m walking you home,” he said without looking at her, almost like he was talking to someone else.
Glancing at her watch, Melissa saw that it was just past nine o’clock. She had 45 minutes left on her shift but the diner didn’t close until midnight. “You don’t have to—they’re not coming back,” she said, retying her apron to give her hands something to do. “Besides, I can’t wait that long—I gotta get the twins from Mrs. Kirkland’s in an hour.”
Moving from behind the counter, Tommy walked toward the diner’s double glass doors and flipped the sign to CLOSED.
“Tommy, your uncle is gonna blow a gasket if he comes by and sees you closed up three hours early,” she said as he moved past her toward the kitchen.
“I’m walking you home,” he said again and his tone left no room for argument.
WAITING IN DARKNESS: Chapter 2
It took nearly A half hour to clear the rest of the customers out of the diner. Feeling bad, Melissa placed large slabs of pie into Styrofoam containers while Terri filled large to-go cup with coffee and sent each customer off with an apologetic smile and dessert on the house.
The last to leave was the young man in the back booth. “I thought that was you.” Tommy cut him a grin while he worked the cash register and counted out change. “When did you get back, O’Shea?” he said, dropping a handful of change and a few bills into the guy’s hand.
As soon as she heard the name, Melissa recognized the face. Michael O’Shea. He looked different than she remembered. His hair was short—military short—no longer lank and long against his neck. His face was different too. He looked clean. Healthy.
He caught her looking, pinning her with a set of dark gray eyes, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin and she remembered who he was and what he’d done. The trouble and pain he’d caused. That he’d abandoned his little sister after his parents died and she looked away from him, suddenly wishing him gone.
As soon as she looked away he aimed his attention toward Tommy and answered his question. “Yesterday. They gave me a few weeks leave before I start Ranger school,” he said with a shrug. “The old man finally got rid of it, huh?” he said, jerking his chin at the place where an old, freestanding video game used to be.
Tommy followed his gaze and laughed. “Yeah, it must’ve died of loneliness because it stopped working right after you left.”
Michael must’ve found it amusing that something in Jessup had actually missed him because he laughed too.
“Here,” she said, shoving a container full of pie into his hands. “Not sure what kind it is.”
Taking the container, Michael lifted the lid and took a peek. “Peach,” he said, looking at her, another lopsided grin plastered across his face. “My favorite.”
Before she could form a response he dropped the change Tommy had given him into her outstretched hand. “Give that to Terri, will ya?” He turned away before she could answer. “See ya around, Onewolf,” he said over his shoulder and then he was gone.
TWENTY minutes later the diner was closed up and she and Tommy headed toward the park, cutting through it toward home—a rickety single-wide with cardboard over the windows and a front porch that was really nothing more than a sheet of plywood and a few stacks of cinder blocks. On impulse, Melissa grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers between his and he instantly stiffened.
“Melissa,” he said, trying to untangle his hand from hers. “Someone might—”
“Someone might what?” she said, using her other hand to gesture down the dark, deserted path they were traveling. “See us? I got news for you Tommy—I’m Kelly Walker’s daughter. No one cares much about what the town whore’s daughter does or who she does it with.”
“You’re a hell of a lot more than that and you know it.” Tommy scowled at her. He hated it when she talked about herself like that. “If your father finds out we’re together, he’ll string me up.”
Her father. The thought of him soured her belly and for a moment she had the urge to let go of Tommy’s hand. Instead she tightened her grip. “No, he won’t—because that would come too close to claiming me for Chief Bauer’s comfort.”
“He’s not the only person around here who’d have a problem with a white girl dating an Indian,” Tommy said, shaking his head at her.
She knew he was right. Jessup was a small town. People here were still closed-minded and judgmental about things like that. “I don’t care what he thinks or anyone else for that matter.”
“That’s not true and we both know it.”
“Your father,” he said gruffly. “Is that why you’re doing this with me? To get back at him?”
This. Like what they had together was just a thing. Like it didn’t matter.
She looked down at where they were joined—their fingers weaved together. Hers tightly wrapped. His loose, ready to let her go at a moment’s notice. For some reason, it made her angry. She let go and started walking. “Why do you keep doing this, Tommy? Why can’t you just let things be good between us?”
“Because I’m never gonna drive a convertible and I’m never gonna go to college.” He kept pace with her as he shook his head, giving her a sad look. “I’m gonna work at that goddamned diner until the day I die and you deserve better than that.”
“Jed.” She stopped walking. Turning, she stared at him, her ears ringing like he’d slapped her. “This is about Jed?”
“It’s about all of them.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “About how almost every guy in this goddamned town would be better for you than me. But sure, we’ll start with Jed—peach pie?”
Peach pie. The words were like a fist to her gut, nearly knocking the wind out of her. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, even though she understood perfectly.
“Yes you do.” Tommy shook his head, refusing to buy the act. “What was he talking about?”
The moment he said it, a flush crept up her neck—hot and splotchy—to settle against her cheeks. “Who knows?” she shrugged, looking away, using the dark to hide the truth. She’d always been a terrible liar. “He was drunk, talking nonsense.”
Tommy was unconvinced. “Are you seeing him?”
“What?” The questions stung, like he’d slapped her in the face.
“Look—I understand if you are,” he said, reaching for her hand, he smoothed a work-callused thumb over the newly heal burn on the back of it. “He’s—”
“You don’t understand anything.” She yanked her hand back. Tears stung her eyes and she had to take a few deep breaths to steady herself before she spoke. “This is what he wanted. Why he said what he did. To make you angry. To make you think things that aren’t true,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “You’re letting Jed win.”
“Something happened between you two,” Tommy said, frowning. “And I want to know what.”
She sighed. “Why does it matter?”
“Because,” he yelled, the boom of his voice bouncing off the trees that surrounded them. He stopped and took a deep breath. “Because,” he started again in a quieter voice. “I don’t understand what… why you want to be with me. I got nothing—not a damn thing to offer you.”
“Offer me?” she said it quietly. “Like money? Like I’m some kinda whore? Like my mother.”
“That’s not what...” The tables had suddenly turned and he sighed, rubbing his free hand across his forehead like it was dizzy. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” she said, her voice gaining an edge she’d always been careful to dull before. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you? Because of this?” She pointed at her face. Like she was looking in a mirror, she could see it. The delicate arch of cheekbones that swept into a lush fall of auburn hair. Wide blue eyes set over the perfect slope of her nose. The generous set of her mouth above a flawlessly angled chin. Even her ears were perfect. Melissa hated it. She hated all of it. Every time she saw herself, she saw her mother and she felt sick. “Is this all there is to me?”
“What? No.” He looked at her like she’d spit on him but she’d seen it, the guilt that flashed in his eyes before he looked away from her.
She looked down at her hand. The starburst scar still pink and shiny. She’d gotten it a few weeks ago when she’d been helping him in the kitchen at the diner. For what felt like the hundredth time, she wished it was on her face. “Do you love me?” she said, looking up at him.
He stood there, staring at her—the sharp angles of his face thrown into deep shadow, the dark irises of his eyes glimmering silver in the moonlight. “You know I do,” he said, sounding almost helpless.
“Why?” It was a question she’d never asked before. One she was afraid of. “Why do you love me?”
His mouth clamped shut, the look of helplessness that sat on his face twisting into one of confusion. He looked away from her, like he was trying to find an answer that would satisfy them both.
She waited, each seconds’ worth of silence that ticked away, ringing in her ears. Finally she nodded, offering him a small smile. “Goodnight, Tommy,” she said, her chin tipped up to keep it from trembling.
She walked away and he let her.
WAITING IN DARKNESS: Chapter 3
He followed her home.
He’d been doing it for a while now—showing up at the diner right around closing and then hanging around the parking lot until she and that cocksucker fry cook locked up and left for the night. They’d usually part ways—she’d walk through the park while he cut across Main. This time, Onewolf walked with her.
They were real careful in public. Never touched. Never let themselves look at each other longer than a moment or two. They barely said two words to each other most nights. But he’d seen it. The way he’d come charging out of the kitchen to defend her. The way he’d pushed her behind him to protect her. It was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes and half a brain, what was going on between them.
Lucky for them Jessup was full of half-retarded idiots.
He didn’t like it. Decided, then and there, that he was going to do something about it. She was going to remember who she belonged to. He’d make sure of that.
Needing to feel her—smell her—his hand strayed to the pocket of his jacket but he stopped himself from reaching inside.
Not here. Not yet.
Reaching into his other pocket, he ran his fingertips along the hilt of the large folding KBAR he kept there. The handle was a bit worn from use, his fingers fitting into the grooves they’d made over the years. How many things had he killed with it? How much blood had cooled against its blade? More things than he could remember. More blood than he wanted to forget.
But never a person. Not yet.
He’d decided, the moment that filthy half-breed put his hands on her, that his would be the first human belly he’d stick his knife into. Tommy Onewolf was gonna look at him and know that he’d put hands on something that didn’t belong to him.
He kept off the cement path they walked down, sticking to the trees, slipping from shadow to shadow, close enough to hear their conversation. They were fighting. He accused her of cheating on him and she denied it, turning the tables on him. “Why?” he heard her say. “Why do love me?”
He knew the answer. He knew why he loved her. Known since the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her. She’d been nothing but a girl then but he’d seen it, lurking in the impossible blue of her eyes. The truth. She belonged to him. The word wadded in his belly, tight and hard, like a rock
Mine.
That one word played on a constant loop in his head whenever he saw her. Taunting him. Driving him crazy with its insistent drone. In it, he felt an impossible weight bearing down on him. A need he’d been fighting for as long as he could remember. He wanted to do things to her.
Bad things. Things that, once they were done, he would not be able to undo. Every second of every day, those things pushed at him, hardening from want to need. Someday soon he’d give in to them.
Instead of scaring him, those things he wanted to do excited him.
His hand began to wander again. Had to clench it into a fist to keep it from reaching into his pocket.
Not here. Not yet.
He heard her say goodnight
to Onewolf. Watched her continue on toward home on her own. Knowing her routine, he waited, watching as she entered the trailer park. She veered left, toward the nicer, well-lit side of the park. This was where the old woman who watched her siblings lived. As soon as Melissa disappeared, he crossed the street, heading for the thick line of trees that divided the trailer park in two, he kept his head down, the dark ball cap he wore tugged low on his head until the trees swallowed him. People knew him. If someone saw him, they’d give him a puzzled smile and try to make conversation. Nosing in. Trying to figure out what he was doing here.
He walked, heading for the back of the property, the tree-line thickening as he went. When he reached the very end, he turned right and walked a bit further until he saw the dim outline of the rusted-out trailer she lived in. Every light in the place was on except hers. He waited outside her window, hidden in the trees. She would be home soon.
Unable to wait any longer, he reached into his jacket pocket, his hand eagerly closing over the pair of cotton panties he’d stolen from her room a few days ago. He rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger, the scalloped lace that skirted their hem scraped against his fingers.
He’d watched her take them off. Could still feel the heat of her trapped in the thin fabric where they’d fit between her legs. She’d slipped them off her gently rounded hips. Pulled them down her long, slim legs. He held them up to his face and breathed deep. Taking in the dark, secret smell of her. She’d be home soon. She’d know he was there. That he was waiting for her in the dark...
She smiled at him, crooking her finger. Beckoning him. Inviting him inside and he’d go to her. Climb inside her window…
One hand gripped the wad of cotton while the other fumbled with the fly of his jeans. He yanked them open and freed himself, cool April air caressing his exposed flesh. He wrapped the panties around his cock, closing his hand around them both. Working his fist up and down—his fingers tightening and releasing on every slide, covering himself with her scent.
The Sabrina Vaughn series Set 2 Page 69