The Hunting Town (Brothers Book 1)

by Elizabeth Stephens

  Amber smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She crosses her arms and turns to face him fully, looking momentarily like a librarian and a tigress. “I’m sure that’s true, but you can’t possibly be here every time Sara works.”

  “I’ve missed one of her shifts, but I won’t miss another. That is a promise. I don’t break my promises.” He holds out his hand, as if offering her something – more than he’s ever given me and yet it’s somehow in my name and in my honor.

  Amber takes it. “I’ll hold you to that, sir.”

  “I’d expect nothing less of a friend of Sara’s.” Amber smiles and Dixon looks at me. “You getting your things?” No. I’m spellbound. Stunned. Electrified in place.

  “Sh…sure.” I wave bye to all of my friends and reenter the dressing room. Mindy, who I hadn’t realized had been there throughout our entire conversation, follows me in.

  “You think that because Dixon stands up for you, you’re something special, don’t you?” she says, her voice chasing me to my locker. Her robe hangs open to reveal her carmine chest. She’s so red and splotchy, I wonder if she’s on something because she hasn’t been dancing. Or she’s just furious.

  Trying to ignore her, I mumble, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t bullshit me,” she sneers, “Sara fucking sweetheart. You have no idea what you’re doing in this place. Dixon is mine.”

  Anger. I drag my backpack out of my locker and shove the rage way down. No reason to rise to it, least of all when the girl has three inches on me and at least fifteen pounds. “I think you may be delusional. Dixon doesn’t date employees.”

  “Is that what he told you? Because that wasn’t what he told me last night when I was in his office.” Her lips curl up into a carnivorous grin and her hands roam over her skin. She touches her tits, and then her pussy. “That’s right. Dixon wanted it all. And he got it. He hadn’t even zipped his pants yet when you called him.”

  I tell myself I don’t care, but it doesn’t erase the sensation of my stomach dropping to my feet and then through the floor beneath them. “I have to go to his office.” My ears are ringing as I push past her.

  She calls after me. “Have fun on his desk. That’s where he had fun with me.”

  I rip through the curtain door, shocked to find that though my friends have left, Dixon is still standing just inside the hall, not yet out on the main floor. He looks at me expectantly when I approach. My vision is off and my heartbeat is thumping erratically. It must show because he asks me if I’m okay.

  “I’m fine.”

  He makes a face and offers his hand. “Can I take your bag?”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you could do some of your school work in my office. I bought your first hour.”

  I want to ask him why, but I’m starting to understand the reason. He’s been messing with me this entire time. Pushing my buttons. Trying to see what I would do for him. I wish he’d come off that way from the start. Then, I’d have known how to handle it – but to wheedle his way into my heart and affect its beat isn’t just disgusting, it’s cruel.

  “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

  His hand falls to his side and clenches. His eyes flash over my shoulder and I can smell Mindy seconds before she breezes past me on the left. “Hi Dixon. Let me know if you’d like me to join y’all later.”

  She winks at him, and then again at me before stepping out onto the main floor though she isn’t supposed to. She does a couple ass shakes for Dixon and the customers – more for the former than the latter – before entering booth number two. The guys seated nearby cheer and I forget that even though I don’t see Mindy’s appeal, I’m not the audience she caters to. Dixon is though. A man with eyes and a dick. A big, beautiful dick. And he didn’t even want to have sex with me, but with Mindy he was all for it…

  “Shall we?” Dixon says, holding out his hand again as if with the expectation I’d take it. I don’t.

  “Fine.” I step out onto the floor and when guys look up and start to cheer, Dixon brushes up beside me so close our arms touch. I hate how much I love his warmth and break away from it the moment I’m inside his office. It’s quiet in here. My eyes flash to the desk. It looks the same as it did last time I saw it but I don’t dare approach. I move instead to the circular table in the corner and set my backpack on the plastic chair beside the wall. I open it up and pull out my books and computer.

  “You have a lot of work?” I can see him in my peripheries, seated on the edge of his desk, his left foot propped up in the guest chair. Is that how Mindy sat when he had sex with her?

  “Yes.” But that’s not the reason I’m working so diligently.

  He quiets in that off-putting way he does before asking, “Is something wrong?”

  Only everything. “No.”

  “I don’t like when I’m lied to.” He clicks his tongue against the backs of his teeth. “And that’s twice now,” he hisses. “You were fine a few moments ago and now that we’re alone, you look upset. What is it?”

  I unglue my gaze from my computer screen, which is blank. The page I’ve opened to in my Biology textbook is also for the wrong unit. I feel purely angry, but not at him. Well, not only at him. I’m an adult woman and a mom now, I should be able to control my emotions better than this.

  “I don’t understand you at all and frankly it’s starting to get to me so I’d really just prefer it if you either fired me or treated me like you treat every other girl that works here.”

  Dixon rubs his thumb against his fingers, and I imagine sand dripping through his hands. There’s something cautious and calculating in the gesture, as if he’s conjuring up each word to speak it exactly as he wants. “I’ve tried.”

  I take an opposite approach and react viscerally. “What is it about me that makes you so angry?”

  At once, he breaks into a smile of all things. I’m about to shake apart and he’s sitting there like I’ve just said something funny. “I’m angry because of how distracting I find you. I can’t help but be interested in you in ways I’m not normally interested in women,” he sighs.

  To that I roll my eyes and return my focus to my text book, successfully bottling my irritation. For the moment. “Yeah. Just me and Mindy.”

  “Mindy?” Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer, I coach myself. My resolve holds but only until he says, “What about Mindy?”

  “I didn’t realize that when you said you didn’t date your employees it didn’t mean you weren’t willing to do other things with them, like you did with both me and Mindy last night. You hooked up with her just minutes before I bared my soul to you like a lunatic and asked you on a date. I know you’re out of my league. At one point, I probably wasn’t, but now I most definitely am so it’s easy for you to take advantage of a girl like me. Girls like us, I should say.”

  I turn to my computer and start to type. The words are complete jibberish but I can’t look at him because I can feel the anger radiating out of him and I can’t stand up to it. I’m going to lash out and get myself fired and then where will Brant and I be?

  Too much time lapses. I have nearly a paragraph written and when I glance at my open Biology book, it’s to see that I’ve copied down the words verbatim. Then his voice cuts through the quiet cleanly. “I was going to ask you out tomorrow night.”

  “Well I can’t go. I told you. I’m busy.”

  He laughs. I don’t know how it’s possible but it seems that the angrier I am, the happier he is to delight in my misery. “I can’t believe this.” He smiles up at the ceiling and massages his head with his hands. His hair is shaved short on the sides, but is longer in the middle, forming a Mohawk I’ve never seen on a black guy. It’s sexy as hell and I hate it.

  “You’re the first girl I’ve asked out in my entire life and you’re rejecting me because of Mindy.” He shakes his head and when he looks at me one half of his mouth is cocked up into a smil
e. His teeth shine brilliantly. “I didn’t fuck Mindy.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You’re lying again.” Only this time, he doesn’t look so mad. He looks curious.

  My heart races and I wonder if I’ve started to sweat visibly or if it’s all in my head. Has Dixon finally driven me insane, once and for all? “You lie to me all the time,” I blurt.

  “When have I ever lied to you?”

  “It’s not what you say. It’s what you don’t.” I brush my hair back and as I turn to face him, my robe slips open. I don’t try to cover myself. He’s already seen everything because I’ve already debased myself to my lowest point. “You don’t tell me anything about anything, your motives least of all. You do all this stuff that makes it seem like you like me, but when you’re near me, you’re hot or cold and nothing in between.”

  “What am I now?” His dark eyes glisten in the harsh overhead light and I can see the muscles in his back ripple through his white tee shirt. It offsets the color of his skin and I know that the girls were all swooning over Charlie when he came in the other day, but in my book that man’s got nothing on Dixon. I clench my knees together and hold onto the edge of the table because otherwise, my legs might spread wide apart and I might fall out of my chair and onto the floor so he can take me wherever he wants.

  I stammer, “I don’t know anymore. I’ve honestly stopped being able to tell the difference.”

  “Go out with me tomorrow night.”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t we call Mindy in here and whoever else you’d like and we can all fuck you and keep our jobs and you can get everything you want all at once.” I stand up, rip off my robe and toss it onto the floor at his feet.

  Finally. The revenge of his rage slips across his face, turning it to stone. “Do you want to see the tapes?” he says.

  “What?”

  “Footage from last night. It’ll prove that I didn’t sleep with Mindy.”

  I gulp. Because my answer is yes, but what I say instead is no.

  He growls and his left leg twitches and I can see that it causes him great pain to remain seated. Why he does baffles me. “Then what do you want? What can I do to be worthy again in your eyes?”

  “Reverse time!” I throw my hands to the side, this slow descent into madness fully complete. “Unwind the clock to the moment we first met and decide whether you want me or not. This has been torture enough.”

  “So there’s nothing I can do now to change your mind?” He blinks and I fight the urge to hit him. How can he be so calm as I split apart?

  I shake my head, blonde hair flying around my shoulders. “No. My emotional response towards you is too high. I have to hate you. Because if I don’t hate you then I’ll fall in love with you and I can’t be in love with someone who decides whether or not they like me back at the drop of a dime. I need someone who either says yes or no when I ask them out, not both. My heart can’t afford that. My kid can’t afford that.” I’m trembling now. All over. I shake my head and start to pack up my things. “Please tell Marilyn I’m sorry but I need to leave. I’m not going to be able to go dance for anybody right now.”

  “Good.” Dixon moves towards me and I think he’ll intercept me for a moment, maybe stop me from leaving, maybe take advantage of me now when I’m at my most vulnerable. He does none of that though. Instead he reaches into his back pocket and pulls a small stack of fifties out of it. He grabs my wrist and forces the money into my hand. “I didn’t just buy your first hour tonight. I bought all of them. I also called the hospital and asked them to put you on EMT rotation. At least until you start your residency. All of the hours you currently spend at Camelot you’ll be spending at your old job starting next week.”

  “You did…what? I can’t afford that. You knew I couldn’t afford that. How could you?” I can feel tears welling in my eyes and hysteria knotting my throat.

  He’s still got my hand crushed in his, but he softens his touch and his tone so that he’s as close to gentle as someone like him gets. He says, “I know. Which is why I’ll be supplementing your income.”

  “What?”

  “I worked out an arrangement with the hospital. I’ll be supplementing your wages through the hospital so it’ll come to you in a single paycheck. You don’t need to worry about interacting with me anymore, which it clearly seems like you aren’t interested in doing.” He looks at the contact between our palms as he speaks, which is good because then he doesn’t see me staring at his face, slack-jawed.

  “You…you’re seconding me to Westfield?”

  “Essentially.” He pauses, “They were thrilled to have you back. Apparently you’re very good at what you do. Not that that’s a surprise. The hospital director himself told me that he was eager for you to complete your studies. It seems very likely they’ll make you an offer.”

  “You met with Gerald?” I don’t know why that’s my first question when there are so many others.

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  “When I had time.” He reaches forward and touches my face with his free hand. I jerk back. “Just an eyelash,” he whispers, “make a wish.”

  I see my black eyelash resting on the tip of his pointer finger and I want to scream and cry and hug him and hit him. I shake my head and quickly turn back to my things. “I have to go.” Hoisting my backpack onto my shoulder with my right hand, I try to wrench my left away but he holds me in place. I know why. It’s because I don’t have a grip on the money.

  “Take it,” he says and when he inhales a breath, his chest swells and I’m both aroused and afraid. “I don’t care if you want nothing to do with me so long as you take this money and show up to your shift at the hospital next Wednesday. I don’t want to see you in here again.”

  I breathe in, then out, and nod. I drop my gaze and he releases me when my fingers curl around the cash. My mouth opens to thank him, but I can’t get the words out.

  “I don’t want your thanks.”

  I nod again and heat washes over me. I’m embarrassed and heartbroken and so dangerously close to love. No one’s ever taken care of me before. Ever. My head and heart hurt. I don’t know what to think. Is this still him manipulating me? If so, it’s the most elaborate and expensive hoax I can think of.

  “I should go,” I repeat.

  “Don’t think you’re walking out of this bar in that robe.”

  I forgot I was still wearing it. “Oh yeah. I think I might have left some stuff in my locker,” I grumble.

  “Let’s go.” He walks me back to the dressing room and waits outside while I pull on a pair of jeans and an ugly grey sweater, then he walks me to the back door. “Your car,” he says abruptly, surveying the jalopy-free lot, and I think it’s the first time either of us has remembered that my car’s still in the shop. “Jay called me today to say he’d have it for you Sunday morning. Sorry if that’s an inconvenience.”

  “No I mean…that’s fine. I mean, I owe you.” More than I already do. Which is infinite.

  Dixon grits his teeth and pulls the door shut behind him. It closes with a loud clang. “That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t want you thinking you owe me anything regardless of whether or not you’re mine.”

  I don’t try to hide my surprise, but turn to him and say, “Mine?” I think he’s misspoken and will somehow offer an explanation, but instead what I get is a brutal narrowing of his eyes.

  “Mine.”

  I steel myself against the invasion. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

  He scoffs and looks me up and down. Even though I’m fully clothed in front of him, it’s like I’m completely naked. Worse, actually. Even naked I feel more confident than this. “Not yet. Charlie’ll take one look at you tomorrow night and be in love by the morning.”

  “Love?” I balk.

  He growls and takes a step off of the crumbling stoop. “In a manner of speaking.” Reaching into his pocket he withdraws his pho
ne and presses a few buttons, keeping his eyes trained on Eighth Street as if waiting for it to vanish.

  “Well,” I blurt, sounding too loud and too weak and too much like a kid, “the only person I love is Brant and he’ll probably be the only person I ever love so I don’t really care what Charlie thinks about me.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” he grunts again with emphasis. “Your Uber is here.” He points towards the street and sure enough, a Toyota Corolla is sliding up to the curb at the far end of the parking lot, hazard lights blinking.

  “Uber?” I say, stupidly.

  He stares at me with something other than contempt. It’s as if for a single moment, he cracks wide open and I can see into the depths of him and he’s so dang beautiful. I want to cry and when I turn away, and then back again, he’s no longer looking at me but down at his phone as if there’s someone there that’s so interesting and he’s so interested.

  He clears his throat. “I didn’t want to offend you by offering to give you a ride.” He wouldn’t have offended me but he’d have no way of knowing that. I nod, but I still don’t move towards the car he’s called for me. “You should go,” he says parroting my earlier words back to me. He glances down at my coat hanging over my arm. “You’re cold.”

  I am. But that’s not the reason I’ve got my fists bunched under either arm. I start to curse and when I do, he grins for a moment before fighting it back. I want to ask him about that, but what the heck can I say at this point other than, “Bye.”

  “Goodbye, Sara.” I hate the sense of finality I hear in his tone.

  Fuck you, Dixon. I love you, Dixon. “Bye.” I head to the car, open up the backseat and toss my stuff inside. Dixon’s still standing on the back stoop, his phone in his hand though his arms are down at his sides, hanging there limply. His gaze follows me and is filled with alarm, like he’s seeing a ghost. The wind pulls my hair in front of my face, and I push the blonde strands back as I stand there, watching Dixon over the frame of the door while the Uber driver asks me if I’ve forgotten something.