by Kate Stone
Her forehead rested against mine and I watched her eyes squeeze shut. I rubbed her back and laid sweet kissed across her cheeks and nose, trying to comfort her. All too soon, she climbed out of my lap and over into the driver’s seat. Without another word, I got out of the car. I stood on the sidewalk and watched as she pulled out of the parking lot. A heavy breath escaped me, wondering to myself if we could ever be together the way we wanted. I stood there and watched until her headlights disappeared into city traffic.
Chapter Three – Eve
I blinked away the tears that threatened to appear in my eyes as I fought through the waves of traffic. Why did Jericho still get to me the way he did? It felt like we had been in the same predicament our entire lives, shouldn’t I be used to it by now? I guess there was no way to kill the hope that someday we would be together, but it seemed as though hell would freeze over before that day came. To drown out the thoughts of his hands and lips on me, I blasted the car stereo on the way home.
Arriving back in town felt like crashing back into reality. Everything looked the same as it always did and there was a stillness in the summer air, nothing but the crickets chirping. It was hardly nine o’clock and the entire town was asleep. Everything was dark except for the dim glow of the streetlights that lined the main roads. A jolt of anxiety ran through me when I saw the porch light to our house was on. My dad never left the light on, knowing it attracted bugs, especially that time of year.
I brushed the thought away, knowing there had been many times he had left the light on without realizing, only to huff and puff about it in the early mornings he had to fight through a swarm of moths and flies to get to his squad car. Parking and hustling to the door I called inside, “I’m home!”
“In here,” my dad called from the living room.
Straightening my skirt and hair in the big mirror that hung in the foyer, I put on my “greatest daughter in the world” smile and headed into the living room. The corners of my lips flattened into a straight line as soon as I rounded the corner to find my dad sitting in an armchair, face red and eyes glossy with a stiff bourbon sitting on the table next to him. He should have only been off duty for half an hour or so, yet he wasn’t in his uniform. Instead, he was in a pin-striped button down and khakis—which was not his typical post-duty attire.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, alarm rising within me.
“Take a seat, Eve,” he murmured, giving the least convincing smile I ever saw.
My heart leapt into my throat as I moved over to the couch and sat down, my hands tucked underneath me as I did as a child when I knew I was in trouble. My father called me Evie unless I was in trouble. Self-centeredly, I panicked that he had heard about the date Jericho and I had just been on. Had a deputy or a friend spotted us in the bar? Or on the side of the road? I cursed myself mentally, knowing Jericho and I should be more careful.
There was silence for such a long time, part of me began to believe he knew I had been out with Jericho and was waiting for me to fess up to it. Just as I began to open my mouth to unleash a slew of incoherent words, my father spoke, “Well, I don’t know how else to say this but to come out with it. Eve, I’ve been going to see Dr. Langston for a while now.” My head cocked to the side. Why was that a confessional? Dr. Langston had been our family doctor for a decade now. Was his cholesterol bad again? Had he been sneaking burgers into his diet? His knee was bouncing until he picked up his bourbon and took a mighty swig. “Eve, honey, I have cancer. It’s in my lungs and it doesn’t look too good… The doctor thinks it’s from those years of construction work as a teenager, all that lead paint and asbestos… They have me scheduled for surgery to get a port for chemotherapy in a week, then I’ll go for my first treatment the week after...”
White noise sounded in my ears from the word cancer, and I couldn’t hear anything he said after. “I-I don’t understand,” I finally breathed. “You’re sick? How long have you been sick?”
He wrung his hands together nervously. “Well, I-I don’t know… I haven’t felt bad until recently. About two months ago I failed my fitness test at work because I was having shortness of breath. I saw Dr. Langston and she’s been doing a battery of tests. I had a biopsy earlier this week and the results came back this evening.”
“You had a biopsy and didn’t tell me?!” I exclaimed, tears stinging my eyes yet again.
“Now, Eve, you know it was only to protect you. I didn’t want you freaking out or worrying if there wasn’t a reason to. I wanted a concrete answer before I told you. You can respect that, honey.”
I squirmed in my spot, wanting to protest—but I knew he was right. I would have freaked out knowing they were testing him. “So, what do we do? What can I do?” I asked, eyes as wide as they could be.
“That’s my girl, always with the stiff upper lip,” my father grinned faintly. “There’s not much to do, sweetheart. I’ll go for treatment once a week, and they’ll scan me every other month until I’m done to check the progress. We just have to keep everything sanitized and uncluttered. That’s about it.”
That’s why he asked me to help clear out things from storage. My heart pinged painfully, wanting so desperately to cry. I held it in, however. I had to be strong for my dad, just as he was strong for me because it was us against the world. I hurried toward him, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a squeeze. He hugged me back, sniffling here and there. I didn’t dare peel away until he patted my back twice, the way he always did to let me know he was okay. “I will be there for every appointment,” I insisted.
“Now, Evie, I’m not going to ask you to risk your job.”
I shook my head, “I work at a doctor’s office, dad, they’ll understand and work with us.”
He nodded his head and finished off his bourbon. I grabbed his glass the moment it hit the coaster, moving to the kitchen to freshen his drink. We could both use another one. My heart was in painful knots, wondering and worrying over what would happen next. If I knew my dad, he would insist that I relax and keep a level head.
That was what I would try to do for the both of us. Returning to the living room with an Old Fashioned for each of us, I jumped into a story from childhood, wanting to ice the wound of the news we both had to live with. It began a night of swapping favorite highlights of the years we had in that house. My mom had passed away when I was eight, and my dad had been an all-star throughout my youth, stepping up to the plate and hitting it out of the park. We built forts in the living room during storms, had gone camping at the lake every weekend he was off-duty during the summers, he even took me prom dress shopping himself and wasn’t uncomfortable with it. My dad was a macho guy, and he always told me that the manliest thing a man could do was be there for the girl he loved, no matter the circumstances.
Once he nursed his drink down to the ice, I helped him up and we headed to bed. My heart was heavy and I knew that there were more serious conversations we should have had—like what stage of cancer he was in, how big the tumors were, where they were at exactly, if he was in any pain, and so on. I would learn those things in time, however, and I didn’t want him going to bed with such a heavy heart. That would be on me. I would bear his pain and his stress as much and as long as I possibly could.
Retreating into my room, I closed the door and crawled into my bed, kicking off my shoes and shimmying free from my skirt. Pulling my phone from my bag, I saw a couple messages from Jericho, asking if I got home okay, followed by a string of emoticon hearts. Covering my mouth, I let out the silent sob which had been building all night. There was one person in the entire world I could unload my pain on and let them help me bear it, and I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t let the Watchdogs know the sheriff was sick with cancer. It wasn’t my place, and there was no telling what it could start. The last thing my dad needed right then was the stress of the town going to hell. While I knew Jericho wouldn’t betray my trust, tensions were high between the police and the Watchdogs. It would take on
e wrong move from a deputy and Jericho could let my dad’s condition slip in idle chat or angered venting. Sending him a quick text to let him know I was home, I put my phone on the nightstand and buried my face in my pillow.
Everything was about to change—and I wasn’t ready.
Chapter Four – Jericho
I let Eve get a head start, knowing better than to follow her back into Newshire, where every cop knew her car and did their all to safeguard her on behalf of the sheriff. There were times I grew bitter that life had to be so complicated. If I loved Eve and was good to her, then I should be able to be with her. Life was never so simple, though, I knew that all too well.
The smell of her was torn from my clothes by the wind, leaving me with nothing but my memories. As much as I wanted to be upset that she left, I knew there were places I needed to be anyway. My only hope was that I hadn’t been gone long enough for any of the other Watchdogs to ask questions. I didn’t want to lie, but I suppose that had become second nature by that point in our relationship.
Much to my dismay the lot outside of the clubhouse was nearly full. Wiping my mouth and clearing my throat, I headed for the door. My entrance made a scene, the members all sitting at the bar and filling the booths while Wade and James stood. A meeting. Shit. “How nice of you to join us, Rico,” James greeted in a flat tone. I didn’t bother to say anything and headed for an empty stool at the bar. “Don’t get comfortable. You, Lance, and Felix are going to do a pick-up.”
“A pick-up? You can’t be serious.” My voice was nearly a scoff. Why in the hell would they have us picking up and selling marijuana with two of our guys locked up? There was going to be an investigation and they were bound to be tearing through our clubhouse, vehicles, and houses soon enough.
“Had you been here for the first part of the meeting, you would know that Patty Lopez will let us store in a shed her family owns. They use the shed for overflow storage for their diner. We are obligated to continue to buy from our supplier. We’ll be storing it while we find the proper solution to sell.” My posture stiffened, being man enough to realize when I’d been bested. I nodded and scanned the room to find Lance and Felix. They both rose from a booth and headed over to me. Before we could reach the door, James spoke again, “Take all the backroads. Don’t come directly back either. Drive all night if you must— if that’s what it takes to make sure no one is following you.”
Inwardly, I groaned but I didn’t let an ounce of displeasure show on my face, knowing better than to show emotion in front of the guys. We all had to take our turns doing the dangerous, dirty work. The only one who didn’t go on runs was James himself, but I would rather go on every single drug run than be in James’s shoes. I had to risk my freedom to help maintain the club’s business, but he risked his life leading us and had the responsibility for all our families on his shoulders. If he didn’t make the decisions he did, my abuela wouldn’t be able to afford her medication and we certainly couldn’t make our mortgage.
Three of us piled into an SUV I’d never seen before. I shot Felix, my older brother, a look. “It’s Miss Patty’s. It’s better we don’t use one of our vehicles. We’re going to hide the package in the compartment the back seat will to fold into.”
“She’s too kind.”
“We’ve helped her family out a lot, and her husband needs the drugs.”
That was true. Mr. Lopez had severe epilepsy and his usual medication came with horrific side effects. Marijuana seemed to manage his condition and the only side effect he had was putting on about ten pounds from severe bouts of the munchies. There were too many people in the county with similar stories, let alone throughout the state. If the state ever legalized marijuana, our income would dry up.
As we started the long drive, I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Nothing from Eve. My brow furrowed; she always texted me when she got home. Texting her to ask if she got home okay, I put my phone away and laid my head back on the headrest, staring up at the fabric ceiling. As my consciousness began to slip away, I could feel Eve in my lap once again, the creaminess of her skin, the heat of her breath.
I jolted awake when the engine cut off. Rubbing my face, I looked out the window and realized we were at the pickup site. Pickup always took place on a random back road in Georgia, nothing around us but thick forest and predators of the night. Directly ahead was the same gray truck we always met, a white guy with a cowboy hat and sunglasses standing outside it with a cigarette dangling from his lips—Mack, our supplier from out west.
“What’d you guys do, borrow your mama’s car?”
“Figured switching up our vehicles would make things safer,” Lance answered, walking forward with the envelope of money. It was unspoken between the Watchdogs not to mention the recent arrests, knowing it would make tensions high between us and the supplier. They might stop selling to us altogether, thinking the trail would lead back to them. We would handle it internally, that was for sure.
As Mack leafed through the stack of money inside the envelop, he nodded over his shoulder to motion for us to pick up the packages in his truck. Felix and I moved to retrieve the one-pound bundles, packing them into the compartment in the back of the SUV which had already been lined with plastic and air fresheners. It wasn’t like they would cover the smell completely, but we always tried to combat the pungent aroma that seeped out of the packages.
Once they were packed away and Mack had counted all his money, Mack tipped his hat and headed back to his truck, calling over to us as he hopped inside, “There will be another delivery in a week. I will wire James the instructions.”
“A week? I don’t think we will need another pick up so soon… It’s a bit of a slow season for us.”
With one arm hanging out the side of his truck, Mack peered over his sunglasses, “Since when is there a dry season of people wanting to get high? It’s not even Lent.” There was a pause, Lance not having an answer for him. “If you guys are having issues moving product, then we will have a problem.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll let James know.”
“Very well then. ‘Til next time, boys.”
With that, Mack left. The three of us stared at each other, unsure how in the hell we were going to handle another load so soon. We couldn’t sit on that much product forever, it would start to dry out and the quality would drop. In silence, we got back into the SUV, my turn to drive.
We drove around in random directions for a couple hours, crossing a state line we didn’t need to. Downing an energy drink, I did my best to focus on the road and my surroundings, keeping track of all the cars on the road. I wasn’t typically a smoker, but everyone in the club seemed to at least when it came to late nights like that. It gave your hands something to do, and the nicotine gave you a little bit of a boost.
By the time we were easing into the foothills the sun was coming up over the ridge. Pulling up to Miss Patty’s property, Lance stirred in the back seat. “Follow the dirt path down a while. There’s a shed in the tree line on the back of the property.”
I did as I was told, driving over the mild hills while I scanned the trees for the shed. The shadows of the trees made it difficult to see much of anything in the woods. After a while, I finally spotted an A-frame roof between two trees. Parking in the grass, we got out of the SVU and carried the packages to the shed. It was set back at least fifty yards from the road; it seemed like the perfect hiding place. No one would suspect the Lopez famil, let alone a think to search a shack on the edge of a secondary property.
The wooden slats of the shed swelled with moisture and pushed at the nails which held them in place. The shed was filled with rusted tools that were now obsolete. On one of the tool benches sat a row of military footlockers with their lids off, enough for us to fill with our product. Once they were full, Lance dug a hole deep enough to stack the footlockers on their sides. Felix hammered the boards back in place and they looked like they’d never been dislodged. I couldn’t
help but stand back and truly appreciate the genius of James’s plan. There was no way we would be caught unless someone told the cops—and there was a better chance of hell freezing over.
The last step was to return the SUV to Miss Patty. Once back at the clubhouse, I hopped on my bike and followed Felix to return the car so he could ride back with me. Much to my dismay, Miss Patty was awake and had a full spread made for us. We could not insult Miss Patty by turning down her food. Even though we were exhausted, the smell of it made my mouth water. We were there for hours, dining on freshly made chilaquiles, tamales, molletes, and strong black coffee. Miss Patty oozed over Felix and me, telling us how handsome we were and how we did God’s work, despite what the law said.
“You know I have a very pretty niece, her name is Isabella. I think you two would get along so well, Jericho,” she purred to me in Spanish, a tender look in her eye.
I did my best to give her a smile, “Thank you, Miss Patty, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
“He’s never looking for a relationship, Miss Patty. I don’t think the boy has a romantic bone in his body,” Felix teased with a smirk on his face.
“Cállate,” I snapped at him.
Miss Patty smiled at me. “It is okay, mijo. If you are happy on your own, then that’s the way to be! A person content alone is a person at peace. That isn’t something money can buy.”
That seemed to shut Felix up, but my heart sank. I didn’t feel at peace and I wasn’t happy alone. That was my own business, though. I bottled it up and waited for Miss Patty to finish the meal and clear the plates away. After a bit of a fuss over who would do the dishes, Miss Patty pushed us out the door to prevent us from helping clean up.
After only three hours of sleep, I had to get up to help with the landscaping during the day. It was a sticky and humid out, making it a miserable, exhausting day. The hay we were laying down made the air thick and sweet, and nearly impossible to breathe. The day winded down into the evening hours and I was finally off work. I should have been ready to crash into my bed, not willing to stir until the next morning, but I had better things to do. In just a couple hours, I would be sitting at a café table with Eve.