The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2)

by Sylvie Stewart

  “Okay, Jake Beckett. I can tell you the rehab transport is supposed to arrive at 11:00 and he’ll be discharged by then.”

  Jake took the ID and gave her a grin. “Thanks, Lexie. You’ve been very helpful. Now, maybe you can help me with just one more thing?”

  “That’s what you said five minutes ago. I do have a job, you know,” she scolded but did it smiling. “What else could you possibly need?”

  “Your number would be a good start.”

  “You know, it may be time for you to branch out and try dating a girl with tits she didn’t pay for. It opens up a whole new demographic,” I suggested to Jake as we walked out to the parking lot. All I got was a pointed look with a raised eyebrow in return.

  We were back in the truck, which I’d moved for a better vantage point. That way we could watch, hopefully unnoticed, when our father came out, keeping our eyes peeled for anything suspicious.

  After another half hour of waiting with just the radio and our own thoughts, Jake said, “You know, I wanted to be in the FBI when I was younger.” He tapped the buttons on the radio looking for actual music instead of commercials or cackling deejays.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I thought it would be cool and it sounded interesting too—I could be a real-life bad-ass, you know. Although, now that I’m an actual adult I realize the job doesn’t really involve much of that.”

  “So why didn’t you go to college and try going for the FBI instead of enlisting out of high school?”

  “Why do you think?” He sat back in his seat, having found a good country station.

  Oh, right. “Dad somehow found out,” I stated more than asked.

  “You know it—laughed his ass off and told me the government would never hire a dumbass like me unless it was to shine their shoes.”

  God, our dad was an asshole.

  “Still, you shouldn’t have let him stand in your way,” I said, knowing it was unhelpful at best.

  He just grunted in return and then pointed to a car backing out of a prime spot. I quickly put the truck in reverse and maneuvered to the new parking space.

  “Anyway, you seem to have a good thing going with the landscape design, right?” For some reason, I was set on pulling him from any dark thoughts—ironic given our current circumstances.

  “Sure,” he replied. “Hey—didn’t Fiona say she works for a landscaping company?” He attempted nonchalance. Unsuccessfully.

  “Uh, yeah, why?” I asked cautiously, not sure I wanted to know where this was going.

  “No reason.” Jake shrugged.

  Yeah, like I believed that. It was like a dog asking where the shoes were stored and then passing it off as a mere bit of curiosity.

  I scoffed. “What—” I began but Jake cut me off, suddenly pointing out the driver’s side window.

  “Check it out,” he said quietly, but with an intensity that made me shut the hell up.

  I turned my head to look out the window and saw two guys standing next to a black sedan, smoking. One wore a black cap with a Red Sox logo and the other had on a black leather jacket and sported a dark goatee.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn.

  I really wished at that moment that Jake had, in fact, followed his childhood dreams and could call in a crapload of reinforcements. But as it had always been and probably always would be, we were on our own to deal with the oncoming shitstorm.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Power of the Pedi

  FIONA

  “I don’t know about this,” Kelly fidgeted in the front seat of my Prius as I parked outside the Youtopia Day Spa in High Point.

  “What do you mean? Free mani-pedi! Life rarely gets better than that,” I encouraged. I hadn’t anticipated her level of discomfort. I mean, I’d figured she rarely had the chance to treat herself, but she looked downright scared. I glanced to the back seat hoping Laney could step in and somehow fix the situation.

  Reading my mind as usual, she leaned forward, eying the spa’s sign through the windshield. “It’s been forever since I had a pedicure. You ever had one, Kelly?”

  “Not yet.” Kelly shook her head and tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

  “I was kind of weirded out the first time too, but as soon as the woman started massaging the knots out of my calves I was a goner.” Laney sighed.

  “They do that?” Kelly asked, incredulous.

  “Sheer heaven,” I confirmed.

  “Girls, you are young twenty-somethings with what I am sure are beautiful young twenty-something feet. Mine look more like something out of a horror movie. I’ll be too embarrassed. Maybe I’ll just do the manicure.”

  “No!” we both cried at once.

  “The pedicure is the best part—and they always have massage chairs…” Laney cast out the lure and prepared to reel Kelly in.

  “And I’m sure they have seen much, much worse than whatever you think you have going on in those shoes. I promise—they won’t bat an eyelash.”

  “Crap. Maybe. I don’t know…I guess. Okay. Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Yay!” Laney and I both did a happy car dance.

  “You girls are nuts,” Kelly commented, but she was smiling as she opened her door and got out.

  I had been due for a mani-pedi anyway, so as soon as my middle finger text to Mark had been sent, I was on the phone with Dr. Brandon asking him for more info on his daughter’s new spa. He was happy to put me in touch with Jenny and I escaped the call with only a few short questions about my wellbeing. Overall, a successful chat, I thought.

  I went ahead and called Jenny, hoping she’d have three available spots—which was pushing it considering it was Friday afternoon and I was looking for Saturday morning appointments. As luck would have it—for me, not so much for Jenny—the new spa was slow-going and she indeed had more than enough open spots for us. In fact, she offered us all free services in exchange for honest online reviews, hoping to drive in more traffic. I tried to protest but she was having nothing of it, so I just planned on tipping the crap out of our technicians.

  Appointments made and Laney on board, I called Kelly and told her about our family friend who’d just opened a spa and needed people to come in and try out the services for free. Based on her hesitancy, I now realized I may have bullied her into it a little—with overenthusiasm and friendliness, I hoped.

  But it was the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I would keep Kelly away from the hospital and the creepy bad guys (her husband included) and I could begin Inner Fashion Maven’s grand plans for a Kelly makeover—insert non-evil cackle. I didn’t know anybody who deserved it more than she did, and if she was open to it I was going to be on her like white on rice, or Laney on Nate, or whatever.

  We walked through the front door and were immediately surrounded by a lovely spicy-minty scent and relaxing background music that sounded like tiny bells. The entire reception area of the spa was painted an earthy green combined with cream and rust accents, and a beautiful stone fountain sat in the corner bubbling quietly. Comfy chairs lined one wall and tempting products were on display throughout the space. It was, in fact, what I imagined heaven’s waiting room to be like. All that was missing were some cherubs and a giant gold gate.

  “Fiona!” I heard my name being called and turned to see Jenny emerging from behind the sleek cream reception counter. We exchanged hugs and I congratulated her on the new spa. She and I kind of knew each other from the years our families had been attending the same fundraisers and functions. She was in her thirties and had three kids, though you’d never be able to tell—she was slim and pretty and she rocked an awesome head full of burgundy curls.

  “It’s so beautiful!” I told her. “You’ll be beating customers back in no time.”

  “Your lips to God’s ear,” she responded with a smile before introducing herself to Laney and Kelly. “Come on back, gals, I’ve got you all set up—you just need to pick your colors and then relax.” She led us to the back, which
was more of the same nirvana but this time with massage chairs.

  We all chose our colors—I went with a citrus theme while Laney chose a palette of blues and Kelly chose clear.

  Clear.

  I did not think so. I grabbed the bottle and put it right back. “You can’t pick clear! At least if you’re going to do the clear look you need a French manicure.”

  “What’s that?” she asked and I refrained from crossing myself—just barely. I looked up and down the colors and pulled out a pretty pale pink and a slightly darker one. “How about these? The lighter one is for your hands and the other is for your feet. You’re probably the only one who’s going to see your toes, so why not have a little fun?”

  She agreed and we all sat down in our cushy chairs at the manicure tables. Jenny declared she was doing mine, and she introduced us to Laney’s technician, Evelyn, and Kelly’s technician, Nari.

  “This is Kelly’s first mani-pedi so go easy on her, Nari,” Laney teased.

  “You’re kidding,” replied Nari. “You just relax and I’ll take care of you. We won’t be able to keep you out of the spa by the time we’re done with you today.” She smiled at Kelly and got another in return.

  Phew.

  Thirty minutes later, we were sitting side by side in our massage chairs while Jenny and the gals worked on our feet.

  Kelly let out a giant sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve never done this. What was I thinking?” She had her eyes closed and her head leaned back.

  Nari laughed as she applied the scrubby stuff to Kelly’s legs. “I told you.”

  “And I don’t know what you were talking about with your feet being old people feet or something,” I said.

  “They are,” she insisted. “I’ve been working on my feet for thirty-five years. It does things to a woman’s feet.”

  “Nari, be honest, how bad are her feet?”

  Without hesitation, Nari replied, “Not even top 100 in nasty feet. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen.”

  “Amen!” said Jenny and Evelyn at once.

  We all laughed, even Kelly.

  I decided here was my opening. “Jenny, do you do other services too? Besides nails and massages?” I asked.

  “We’re starting out with just this for now, but we have more space and we’ll have hair styling, facials, and waxing if we can get things going soon. I’m actually a stylist, but I’m a certified nail technician too so right now this is what I’m doing.”

  Excellent.

  “Don’t you think Kelly would look great with a cute layered bob?”

  “Oooooh,” said Laney. “I like it.”

  Jenny considered Kelly with her professional eye. “That could totally work with some caramel highlights. That would rock.”

  “Stop right there, girls,” said Kelly who was leaning back with her eyes closed again. “I’m still getting used to the idea of having painted nails so don’t rush me. And, besides, stuff like that needs upkeep and I’d rather eat than have pretty hair.”

  I knew not to push too hard, so I let it go. Sort of. “We’ll skip the highlights then,” I said quietly and Kelly gave my arm a shove.

  An actual shove! This was awesome. I looked over at her and her eyes were still closed but she had a grin on her face.

  I had promised to have Kelly home in time for her to run a few errands and get ready for work—and I kept my promise, pulling up to her house with time to spare. She’d gone quiet again on the drive home, but I was hoping it was just because she was super relaxed. Turned out, not so much.

  She turned in her seat so she could see both Laney and me. “Can you girls come in for a minute? I have something I need an opinion on.” She looked nervous as all get-out again.

  Shit.

  We didn’t even answer. We just opened our doors and followed her into the house. It was one side of an older duplex and it was a bit dated, which I had sort of anticipated, to be honest. I could see where little updates had been made here and there, but nothing disguised the age and wear of the place. The tile in the entryway appeared almost new, but the carpet had definitely seen better days. A nice couch sat along one wall of the living room, but the rest of the furniture looked old and beaten up. The kitchen counters and floor were not original to the house and I could see Mark’s hand in all of it. Despite the mix of old and new, the entire place was tidy and free of clutter. Kelly definitely liked her living space neat.

  She led us to the table in the small kitchen and invited us to take a seat. Once we were all sitting, she withdrew an envelope from the stack of mail sitting on the table in front of us. She handed it to Laney.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” Kelly asked.

  Laney opened the envelope, took out the letter, and read it over. “Crap,” she swore and handed it to me.

  It was a plain sheet of white paper with just a few words printed on it.

  You have one week. $32,000 cash.

  “Shit,” I said and put down the paper.

  We all just stared at each other.

  “I kept telling myself it must be a bad joke or something, but it’s not, is it?”

  “We have to call Mark,” I said.

  “No!” Kelly exclaimed. “I don’t want to worry him or Jake. I’ll figure something out.”

  “But you can’t!” insisted Laney. “You need their help! And we should call the cops too—this is a threat!” She pointed to the paper. “It’s one thing if your husband doesn’t want to call the cops but now they’ve threatened you, so you can call!”

  Kelly just shook her head. “But it’s not an actual threat. There’s nothing the police could do about it,” she said.

  Laney and I both read the paper again. She was right. It was deliberately vague.

  “I’m going to the hospital to see Jim tomorrow and find out where the money is. Then I’m going to get it to these people.” She pointed to the paper.

  “What makes you think he still has any of it? Wouldn’t he have handed it over the first time instead of being beaten half to death?” I asked, wondering if Kelly was thinking straight.

  Kelly shook her head again. “I don’t know—you’d have to know Jim. He’s so…stubborn and always sure he’s in the right. He could still have at least some of it. Anyway, I’m going to find out tomorrow. If he doesn’t have it, I’ll figure something else out from there. These guys obviously know about me but they don’t know about the boys—and I intend to keep it that way.”

  “I understand you wanting to protect them, Kelly, but they’d want to do the same for you. They’re worried about you.”

  “I know, but they don’t need to be. As soon as we get this money thing worked out, things can go back to normal.”

  Laney and I exchanged a glance.

  “Normal like ‘last-week-normal’ or normal like ‘with Jim’?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “What do you mean?” She seemed genuinely puzzled.

  “Well, from what Mark and Jake said, not that it’s any of my business you know, but from what they said it sounded kind of like you maybe, you know, still kind of had—”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Laney cut me off. “What she’s trying to ask is if you still have feelings for your husband and want him back.”

  Kelly’s head jerked back. “What would make you think that?”

  I mumbled, “Mark and Jake may have mentioned something or other…”

  “Oh,” she said and looked down at the table. She remained silent for a few moments before speaking again. “The whole middle-of-the-night hospital thing was just so crazy—I’m not even sure what I said to them. It was all so shocking, you know?” She lifted her head. “Seeing Jim again and especially in those circumstances—it took me a few days to get my head on straight.”

  “So…you don’t want him back?” Laney asked.

  Kelly gave a slight laugh that held zero humor. She tilted her head back and blinked like one does when trying to stave off tears.

  We waited
silently, hoping she’d elaborate. After getting a handle on her emotions and bringing her eyes back to us, she did.

  “My boys, they remember all the bad stuff, you know?”

  Laney and I both nodded, waiting for her to continue but afraid of what we’d hear.

  “But I remember the beginning. I was so in love, and I have to believe Jim was too. There is nothing as magical as young love, and God we were young. I was seventeen. He was nineteen and was going to be my knight in shining armor, taking me away to a life that would be so, so beautiful. It felt like no one else in the world could possibly have a love as pure and strong as ours—it would last forever. We were kids.” She shrugged.

  “The thing is, change happens gradually, not overnight. Things…happen. Real life happens. Lord knows I should have been a better mother and stepped in when Jim got out of line. But it’s so easy to see that in hindsight. Looking back, I just remember being tired and I remember making excuses—at least he didn’t hit us, at least he didn’t do drugs. I understand it’s no real excuse and never will be. He was just so clever in the way he put us down and made us feel like we should be grateful he even put up with us.”

  She gave another humorless laugh. “I’m not stupid. I don’t actually want him back.” She ran a hand through her long hair and looked up at the ceiling again. “I guess part of me just wants to feel worthy of someone wanting to come back for me, even if it is my loser husband. I know that sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous.”

  My heart broke into a billion pieces and my throat was so tight with tears that I didn’t dare try to speak. One glance at Laney showed her similarly affected, her cheeks streaked with tears she hadn’t been able to hold back.

  I reached out my hand and gripped Kelly’s. Laney did the same on the other side. We held on for dear life.

  There were two things I was certain of at that moment. One, this was something even an entire day at the spa couldn’t make a dent in. And two, I was going to kick the ever-loving shit out of Jim Beckett. They might be tiny, but these fists were gonna fly.