Old Habits

by Tabatha Kiss

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Begging for Bad Boys

  Old Habits

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Jovie

  Chapter 2: Jovie

  Chapter 3: Will

  Chapter 4: Jovie

  Chapter 5: Will

  Chapter 6: Jovie

  Chapter 7: Will

  Chapter 8: Will

  Chapter 9: Jovie

  Chapter 10: Jovie

  Chapter 11: Will

  Chapter 12: Jovie

  Chapter 13: Will

  Chapter 14: Jovie

  Chapter 15: Will

  Chapter 16: Jovie

  Chapter 17: Will

  Chapter 18: Jovie

  Chapter 19: Will

  Chapter 20: Jovie

  Chapter 21: Jovie

  Chapter 22: Will

  Chapter 23: Jovie

  Chapter 24: Will

  Chapter 25: Jovie

  Chapter 26: Will

  Chapter 27: Jovie

  Chapter 28: Will

  Chapter 29: Jovie

  Chapter 30: Will

  Chapter 31: Will

  Chapter 32: Jovie

  Chapter 33: Jovie

  Chapter 34: Will

  Chapter 35: Jovie

  Chapter 36: Will

  Chapter 37: Jovie

  Chapter 38: Will

  Chapter 39: Jovie

  Epilogue

  Begging for Bad Boys

  Also by Tabatha Kiss

  About the Author

  OLD HABITS

  TABATHA KISS

  Copyright © 2017 by Tabatha Kiss

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form

  without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All sexually active characters detailed within are eighteen years of age or older.

  No characters engaging in sexual acts are blood-related.

  WARNING: This novel contains explicit descriptions of

  erotic and sexual acts that some may find offensive,

  including perverse adult language.

  Reader discretion advised.

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  OLD HABITS

  BY TABATHA KISS

  Small town. Big mistakes.

  Everyone’s business.

  Four years ago, Jovie Ross disappeared.

  She was my high school sweetheart. My first love. My first everything.

  I wanted it all with her. Marriage. A family.

  Then, one day, she was gone.

  She wanted more than a simple life in Clover, Kansas.

  Unanswered questions have left me wondering what could have been.

  Now, she’s back, but she’s not the same rebellious troublemaker she used to be.

  She’s all grown up and even more beautiful than I remember.

  But she’s still my Jovie. It doesn’t take long before she remembers that, too.

  The town doesn’t believe she’s changed.

  They want her gone and they won’t stop until they run her out of Kansas for good.

  They’ll have to get through me first.

  I wanted it all with her. This our second chance to get it right.

  But the questions of the past need answers and I’ll do whatever it takes to get them.

  For better or worse.

  for all those

  we’ve lost

  we’ll meet you

  in paradise

  Chapter 1

  Jovie

  Clover, Kansas.

  The Forgotten Paradise.

  I pass the sign on the highway and think to perform a full U-turn to go back where I came from. I don’t, though. I’d just be delaying the inevitable if I did and I honestly don’t think I could stomach going through with this twice. It’s hard enough already.

  I didn’t want to come back home. I promised myself I never would but here I am.

  My car jolts and the forward inertia pulls backward. Smoke begins to seep out of the hood and I groan loudly. Good travel instincts take over. I look into every mirror to make sure I’m not in danger of colliding with any other cars in the pitch darkness but the road is completely deserted. Not surprised. I’m pretty sure the last person to leave Clover was me.

  I pull onto the shoulder as the car continues to slow down and I start to wonder if I’ll make it out of the lane in time before it stalls out completely.

  I reach down, carelessly searching for the lever by my foot to pop the hood before getting out. A biting chill clings to my bare legs. Come back to Kansas in a skirt. In January. Good thinking, Jovie…

  I round the car and throw open the hood, stepping back quickly to avoid the puff of smoke before it burns my eyes.

  Well, shit.

  I glance around the highway and spot the gas station about a quarter mile down the road. For a second, I pause, feeling my stomach churn and I think to once again haul ass out of town. Not that I could anymore, of course. My damn car is busted. I don’t own a phone, either. Guess I’m jaywalking into the night.

  I slink back in the driver’s seat, embracing the warmth while it lasts as I fish my wallet out and lock the doors behind me.

  The attendant glances up at me from behind the counter as I step inside. He’s a young kid, just barely out of his teens if I were to guess, meaning he probably doesn’t know who I am. My face, anyway. He might know my name if he’s a local but I won’t risk it.

  His back straightens with each step I make toward the counter and he twitches awkwardly as if I’m about rob his ass.

  “May I use your phone?” I ask.

  He blinks out of it and fumbles beneath the counter for the landline phone hidden under it. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Here.”

  “Thank you.”

  I open my wallet to find the card I used to keep with emergency numbers listed on it. Haven’t seen it or needed it in years, so it might have crumbled to pieces by now.

  It’s there, crushed beneath an empty chewing gum wrapper and a business card for a bar in Seattle I once temporarily called home.

  “Highway patrol…” I mutter, picking up the phone and dialing the faded number on the card.

  I hold the phone to my ear, listening to the dull ringing and glancing up at the kid again. He’s backed off and pretends to read the latest gossip magazine at the other end of the counter.

  “Kansas Highway Patrol,” a man answers.

  “Yeah, hi. I’m in need of a tow truck. My car stalled on me.”

  “What’s your location?”

  “I’m heading east on 70,” I say, clearing my throat. “About five miles outside of Clover near the gas station.”

  “Clover, eh?” he asks, amused.

  “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  “Make and model of your vehicle?”

  “Uhh…” I chuckle. “It’s a 2002, powder blue… POS.”

  He laughs for a
moment before turning serious. “Are you traveling alone?”

  “Yeah, but I’m safe.”

  “Good. Hang tight, ma’am. We’ll send someone out to get you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I hang up and slide the phone back over. “Thanks again,” I tell the kid.

  He nods at me and watches as I turn around to walk back out into the cold.

  I rush down the highway, counting the moments until I can get back in my car again. I could have stayed inside but I’d rather risk getting slammed by a speeding truck than stay in that gas station. No offense to the kid, of course. I just have a few memories there I’d rather not relive if I don’t have to.

  I climb into my car and lay my head against the steering wheel to rest my eyes. Every few minutes, I peek up to check for incoming cars but the street is vacant and black, save my own headlights illuminating the few feet in front of me.

  Finally, a tow truck rolls up beside me and comes to a stop in front of my car. The logo on the side reads Marv’s Auto Repair. The best Clover can offer. I could never tell whether or not that was sarcasm.

  I step outside and roll my hands into fists in my pockets, preparing myself just in case this guy is any kind of creep.

  The door opens and the driver pops out onto the ground. He looks up at me like I’m a side-dish but the smug smirk instantly falls as he recognizes me.

  “Jovie?”

  I squint at him in the dark, making out my cousin’s familiar face. “Tucker?”

  “Oh, my God! Jovie!” I flinch as he throws his arms around me and squeezes, nearly lifting me several inches off the ground. “What is this? Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?”

  I laugh softly and pat his back. I guess it was only a matter of time before the awkward reunions started. I’d hoped to put it off for longer than this, but shit happens, I suppose.

  “I’m all right,” I answer the last question.

  He leans back and sets me down but keeps a solid grip on my shoulders. “It’s been a long time.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “Are you back in town like... back back?

  “Uh...” I glance around. “Not sure yet. Just kind of back for now, I guess.”

  “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

  “No. I haven’t told anybody. I was just going to surprise my dad when my stupid car broke down.”

  “So, nobody knows you’re here?”

  I shake my head. “Nobody knows.”

  “Like...” he steps back, “nobody?”

  “Nobody,” I confirm. “And I would really appreciate it if nobody found out yet.”

  He throws up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I read you loud and clear, ‘cuz. Nobody knows and nobody shall know. It’s our little secret.”

  I wonder how long that’ll last. “Thank you, Tucker.”

  He gestures to the car behind me and knocks twice on the open hood. “So, what happens to be the problem here, little lady?”

  “No idea,” I say, stepping to the side. “Just kind of went ka-bloom.”

  He leans over, withdrawing a flashlight from his pocket and clicks it on as he scans the inside. “Hmm…”

  “What?”

  “No idea.” He shrugs and releases the hood down. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get you cinched up.”

  I stand back and watch as he attaches the hook to my front bumper. “So, you’re a mechanic now?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “And they stiff you with the night shift?”

  “Who’s getting stiffed?” he asks. “I love the night shift. I volunteer for it. It’s quiet and chill. Mostly just get truckers but every once in a while, I get the call for a beautiful lady stranded out in the middle of nowhere and sometimes she’s very grateful for my help… if you know what I mean.”

  I nod. “I think I cracked your code, Tucker.”

  “Of course, I don’t expect that tonight, obviously,” he says, gesturing at me. “In fact, the last thing I expected to find on this road tonight was you, ‘cuz.”

  “Same.” I wrap my jacket a little tighter around me to block out the cold breeze.

  Tucker slides the car into neutral and nods to his truck. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride to Uncle Hank’s.”

  I climb inside and sit still, silently taking in the view. Tucker turns off the highway and we navigate a tight, empty road for a few miles before passing the welcome sign into Clover, Kansas.

  Main Street is dark and empty, as it always was after ten. Local businesses must still close their doors just before eight o’clock, leaving very little — if anything — to do.

  Not much has changed since I left, though I’m not sure why I would expect it to. Tucker glances over at me every so often, no doubt plagued with burning questions but I can’t exactly blame him.

  He slows to a stop on Ninth Street. “This is as far as I can go in this beast,” he says. “Unless I wanna wake the neighborhood beeping backward to try and get out again.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, grabbing my backpack. “I can walk it.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “No, I’ll be all right. It’s Clover, ya know?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, I know. Well, it’s really nice to see you, Jovie.”

  “You, too.” I step outside, instantly shivering the second my feet touch the ground. “I’ll stop by the car shop in the morning to fill out paperwork or whatever you guys need.”

  “Uh…” He shifts forward in his seat. “You know, don’t bother. I’ll fill it out for you and call you with updates.”

  “No, I can do it, Tuck.”

  “Well… he works there now.”

  “Oh.” I pause. “He does? Really?”

  “Yeah, for about two years now.”

  I bite my lip. “Okay, then… yeah, you can fill out the forms and stuff for me. That’d be great. Thanks.”

  He gives a short wave. “Say hi to Uncle Hank for me.”

  “I will.”

  I close the door and turn to stare down my old street as the tow truck rides off with my car hanging behind it.

  An eerie calmness washes over me. I suppose if we’re talking traditional definitions, this is my home. I grew up on this street, walked down it every day for twelve years to go to school, but I feel very little connection to it otherwise.

  I start walking down the block, wrapping my jacket a little tighter around me and cursing whoever it was that invented the skirt in the first place. I’ve almost forgotten how chilly it is here in January. There’s still even a little bit of holiday snow stacked up along the curbs.

  And here it is. The house I grew up in. Just me and my dad, for the most part. One story. Two bedrooms. A whole lot of repairs that never quite happened.

  I walk up to the door. It’s late and who knows if my father is even awake but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.

  I tap on the door, knocking softly. A few seconds later, a light flicks on in the living room and my chest tightens.

  The door swings open and my father gawks at me with a beer can in his hand. Gravity has done hell to the bags under his eyes and there’s more silver than brown in his mustache but otherwise, he’s the same as he ever was. Tobacco stench included.

  “Hey, Hank,” I say, forcing a smile.

  He looks me up and down. “Jovie.”

  I nod. “Yep.”

  More wrinkles crease his brow for several long, cold moments. Finally, he turns around without saying anything else and walks off, leaving the door wide open.

  I step inside and close it behind me as my dad topples into his armchair across the living room.

  The same as it ever was, indeed. The carpet is still that awful shade of dark peach, held over from the eighties, at least. Scratched furniture with layers of dust and the same damn couch that’s been sitting there since I was a kid.

  The television blares loudly from the corner with one of those procedural crime shows. I step lightly to the couch and sit do
wn on the edge, tapping my tongue against my teeth.

  “What do you want?”

  I flinch with the sudden growl of his voice. “I just wanted to ask if I could stay here for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say. He glares at me from the corner of his eyes. “Not long. Just need to save up some money and I’ll be out of your hair again.”

  His gray eyes flick back to the television. “Rent is three-hundred a month,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “Or seventy-five a week, whichever works best for you, and you’ll chip in for utilities.”

  I dig my thumbnail into my hand. “All right,” I say. “I’ll go into town tomorrow and see about finding a job but I probably won’t get paid for a few weeks. I might need an extension on the first month.”

  “You know where the spare key is,” he murmurs.

  I stand up. “Thanks… Dad.”

  He gives a passive nod. “Real nice to see you,” he says, his tongue hitting every word like an ice pick.

  Overall, it’s a far warmer welcome than I expected, so I can’t complain.

  I walk out of the living room and enter the hallway, my eyes instantly pausing on the picture frames hung on the wall. Baby pictures of me, mostly. A visual timeline from birth to age three and then nothing after that. My dad wasn’t really interested in keeping up with it, I guess. It must have been Mom’s thing.

  I push open the door to my room and flick on the light. Not a damn thing has changed in here either, save the layer of dust on everything from years of forgotten neglect. Travel books and posters of landmarks across the country. Places I always dreamed about. Anywhere but here.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed and glance around, silently reminding myself that it was all my idea to come back.

  “Home sweet home,” I whisper to myself.

  Chapter 2

  Jovie

  You ever have that dream where you’re walking down the street and everyone is staring at you?

  They start to laugh as you pass by, subtly at first, but it gets faster and louder until you finally look down and realize that you’re naked.