And Jed was really nice. I needed nice. I could do nice.
What I didn’t need was damaged. I had enough of that going on all by myself to last me a lifetime.
I dragged lipstick across my bottom lip, then scanned the room for my purse. Damn it. I was going to wind up being late.
I was so engrossed in what I was doing that the knock on the front door made me nearly jump out of my skin. Shit. Maybe it was Cade stopping by...to apologize. Yeah, right. As if that would ever happen.
When I pulled open the door, it was Jed. What the hell?
"Jed. What are you doing here?"
“Hey, June,” he said. He was still in uniform, and his cruiser was parked in the driveway.
Is he kidding with this? So much for keeping this date under wraps.
I glanced behind him to Cade’s house. No one was outside, but hell, everyone was going to know my business in about ten seconds. Which was exactly why I had told him we could meet for dinner in the next town over, thirty minutes away. I didn't need any prying eyes, especially after Cade had conveniently stumbled on us when we were having coffee.
“What are you doing here?” I asked through clenched teeth. If I could have hissed the words at him, I would have.
“I know we were supposed to meet at the restaurant,” he said. “But I was working late, out on a call down the road. So, I figured, rather than call and stand you up, I’d stop by and hope you hadn’t left yet.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, and I nearly invited him in, just to get him out of the freaking driveway. But there was his cruiser, parked right behind him, this bright sore thumb attracting attention. All I could think about was how much I needed to get him out of here.
“So why don’t we raincheck, then,” I said, my words rushed. That way, he could go home, and I could sit in the tub with a glass of wine and a book. That option didn't sound bad at all, actually.
“Oh.” He looked down at the ground. “Yeah, um. That sounds fine. I was thinking maybe I could just drive you to the restaurant, but no, that's good, too…” His voice trailed off.
“In that?” Yeah, the police cruiser didn’t scream “hey, look at me” at all.
Jed glanced back at the car, a sheepish look on his face. “Yeah. I could uh - I have a change of clothes with me, and I can give you a ride home.”
I must have given him a skeptical look, because he stumbled over his words, adding “I mean- not like I want to give you a ride home and...you know...come in or anything like that. I mean, nothing like that. You know, unless you wanted me to or something...Oh, shit.”
His face reddened, and I had to smile at his embarrassment. It was kind of charming, almost sweet. I mean, if someone else had shown up on my doorstep for a first date like this, I’d have already pepper sprayed him, because well, it would have been creepy. But Jed was just too damn nice.
“It’s okay, Jed,” I said. “I didn’t think you had any kind of nefarious intent.” I mean, not after that display, anyway. “Just let me grab my purse and phone and I’ll be ready.”
At the restaurant, we lingered over dinner, but I couldn't focus on Jed. Out of his sheriff's uniform and in normal clothes, Jed looked even better, his eyes highlighted by the blue collared shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up over his forearms. I tried to picture Cade wearing a button down shirt, and almost laughed out loud. There was no way he'd be caught dead wearing one, I knew that without even needing to ask. Jed made it look sexy somehow.
So why couldn't I pay attention to what he was saying?
Why did my mind keep returning to Cade?
I played with my wine glass, my fingers dancing on the rim as I half-listened to Jed fill me in on the gaps in my knowledge about the town, all the gossip about the people we had grown up with, and the things that had changed.
Then he stopped. “I’ve been running on and on, haven’t I?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed. “Well, maybe a little.”
“You’re such a good listener, you know?” he said. “You probably get that a lot. I need to shut up more.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s nice to hear about this place. I missed it, in a lot of ways.”
"I admire the way you reacted after well...all that happened in high school, June," he said. The compliment brought a wave of embarrassment over me. I hated when people did that. I hated when they made my family tragedy into something I had overcome, making me out to be some kind of noble person. I was far from it.
"It was nothing," I said. "So, how did you end up being town sheriff?"
It was my blatant, unsophisticated attempt to veer away from discussing my family, but it didn't get through to him, and he barreled ahead. "Not many people would be able to get past that, and then become a doctor, join the Navy, serve their country."
It drove me crazy being made out to be some girl struggling against all odds to make something of myself. There were lots of people genuinely struggling in the world, living hand to mouth, and I had never been one of them. My parents died in a tragic accident, and my sister killed herself. But they didn't leave me destitute, and I had people who loved me, an aunt who took me in, enough money for years of therapy. I was more fortunate than a lot of other people.
"No, really," I said. "It happened a long time ago, Jed. I tried not to let it define my whole life."
"See, that's what I'm talking about." He sipped his coffee, set it down. I sat there, detached, trying to decipher his expression. That's what it was. Adoration. Like some kind of damn puppy dog.
"You are just so modest," he went on. "That's what I like about you, June. That's what I've always liked about you."
Oh, hell.
He kept talking, extolling my virtues, and I just sat there, staring at him, while his words drifted into the background. I wasn't some kind of goddamned saint, and I wasn't the straight-laced do-gooder Jed seemed to think I was. Yeah, I joined the Navy to do something meaningful; but I also joined for selfish reasons. The idea of moving every few years, re-inventing myself, not getting too attached...there was something alluring about it.
I wasn't Mother Theresa.
"Really," I said weakly. I smiled, but it felt forced. "It's no big deal."
"How can you say that?" Jed continued, oblivious to my growing discomfort. "You deployed with the Marines. I mean, I read about what happened when you were in Afghanistan. The explosion. It was amazing stuff. The hero surgeon - they didn't call you that for nothing."
I felt chilled, down to my fingertips. “It’s not something I like talking about.”
Jed plowed ahead, leaning forward, his eyes bright. "Oh, I read about it, though, the interview you gave -"
"That was for a Navy magazine," I said.
Cade doesn't think you're some kind of saint.
The thought nagged at me.
Jed opened his mouth again, started to say something, and I stood up. "I'm going to the ladies' room," I said.
He cleared his throat, face reddening, and I couldn't tell if it was embarrassment at being blown off or anger behind his eyes, but I didn't care. I was tired of dropping hints. Actually, I was just tired.
On the way home, we made awkward small talk, the ride stretching out for an interminably long time. That is exactly the kind of thing I was trying to avoid by meeting him at the restaurant. Why had he insisted on picking me up at home?
We stood awkwardly on the doorstep, and I looked behind him, scanning Stan's house for any sign of movement, half-expecting Cade to come walking out at any moment, brandishing a shotgun and making threats to Jed.
In your dreams.
You told him your dating life was none of his business, and he told you to go out with Jed, to do whatever you wanted.
That's right. It's what I wanted, wasn't it? I'd wanted Cade to leave me the hell alone, to stop prying. He'd always had a jealous streak.
Jed was talking again, lingering. Expecting me to ask him inside?
"You know, June," he said. "I always had a thing for you,
way back in high school."
"High school crushes," I said, trying to be casual, trying to steer the conversation away from where I thought it was headed. I didn't need some awkward declaration from Jed. "We grow out of them."
Had I really grown out of mine?
"It's more than that, June," Jed said. "You moving back here...I think it's maybe life giving us a second chance. Maybe it's fate's way of bringing us together again." Before I could say anything, let him down gently, he moved in toward me, to kiss me.
And I...ducked out of the way.
Literally, ducked. Like I was a boxer, bobbing and weaving away from a punch.
"Jed." I backed toward the door. "I don't think I'm really in a place right now where I'm looking to start something serious, and I'm not sure - "
My eyes darted behind him, to Stan's house, a reflexive movement, really. But Jed noticed, and turned, looking behind him. When he faced me again, his expression was dark. "Him," he said. "I heard he was back in town."
I shook my head. "No, it's not him. It's me. I'm just not comfortable - "
I was lying. I wasn't fooling anyone. Including myself.
Jed held up a hand. "Say no more. I know when I'm being let down easy." He stepped down from my porch, and turned toward his car. "I'll see you both around, June."
You both.
I swallowed hard as I watched him walk away. Damn it. I didn't need trouble with Jed now, too.
As he pulled down the driveway, I looked up to see Cade, standing on the front porch at his father's house, his arms crossed over his chest.
Watching me.
Axe
“Where were you?” Crunch asked.
“I went out for a ride,” I said as I pulled off my boots and stood them by the front door.
"That was a long ass ride," Crunch said. "You've been out most of the day."
"What are you, my fucking mother?" I asked. I'd been out riding since dawn, and I was still worked up. Seeing Jed bring June home last night, watching them stand on the porch like that, after what was obviously a date, had my guts churning. But I was trying to be a better man. No drinking, no crazy jealousy. No going psycho and beating the shit out of someone.
I could do it, right? I proved it to myself by not jumping the fence and going over there.
If Jed would have kissed her, though...
Shit, I'd be in jail right now.
"It's quiet in here," I said. "Where is everyone?"
"April is giving Mac a bath," Crunch said. "You and I, though - we need to talk."
"Yeah, sure, man," I said, looking around the room. "Where's my dad?"
"I think he's in the bedroom or something. Not sure."
"Is this business we need to talk about?"
"Yeah," Crunch said.
“Alright, let’s go out on the porch.”
“Let me just grab the laptop. I need to show you what I found.”
Crunch pulled up a rocking chair across from me, his voice low. “I've been searching around, looking for intel on the warehouse fire."
"What's the deal?"
"See for yourself." Crunch turned the laptop screen toward me, and I read the headline, my brain barely processing the words.
“Multiple Bodies Found in Warehouse Fire Outside Las Vegas,” I read.
"Yup," Crunch said.
I looked up at him. "Multiple bodies."
What the fuck?
"Read the article."
I scanned the words, willing it to sink into my brain. Three bodies found.
Incinerated.
"Three bodies found." I spoke the words slowly.
“Shit.” I scanned the rest of the article, willing it to sink into my brain. “That’s us.”
"Obviously it's not us," Crunch said.
"There was no one else in the warehouse," I said. "Who the fuck would it be? Did you see anyone in there?"
"I don't know, man," Crunch said.
"This is not good."
“No? What are you talking about?” Crunch asked. “From where I’m sitting, it’s fucking ideal. The club thinks we’re dead. The heat’s off of us. We're fucking dead men.”
“Yeah, the club thinks we’re dead now. What about when those bodies get ID'd? They're not ours.”
“You read the article. They were incinerated. You think they’re going to be able to fucking ID them any time soon? No.”
“DNA testing, dental records, whatever, man,” I said. “You’re the fucking nerd. You should know this CSI type shit.”
“Dental records?” Crunch laughed. “When the fuck was the last time you were to a dentist, man - either of us.”
“I was in the military, jackass,” I said. “They could get those records.”
“Good luck with that, and with the DNA,” Crunch said. “Both of those things take time. You were in the military years ago, which means your records are with the VA now. And that place is a hot fucking mess, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Could it really be that easy?
“None of this is going to come back on us for a while. Right now, the club thinks we’re dead. That, my friend, is a good thing.”
“I can’t believe I’m reading about our own deaths,” I said. It was bizarre, like it was a story about someone else.
“What a trip, huh?” Crunch said. "I wonder if we'll get a funeral."
My thoughts were racing a mile a minute. “They think we’re dead. Do you know what that means?”
“We’re free,” Crunch said.
Free.
No. It was impossible.
I looked up at him. “You ever think of doing something else, Crunch?”
“Think about starting a new life, you mean? All the fucking time,” he said. “I've been thinking about it for years, ever since before I went to the Pen. You think about it?”
Every day.
“No,” I lied. “I mean, yeah, lately. I've been thinking about it more, I guess.”
“What would you do?” Crunch asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know."
“I speak Spanish,” Crunch said. “Thinking about taking April and Mac, going to Mexico, starting a fucking surfing resort or something.”
“You surf?” I asked.
“I could learn,” he said. "You need to get your Plan B in line, Axe. We're dead now, but when someone does get to figuring out whose those bodies are, we're fucked. And we'll probably be on the hook for murder. We need to give serious consideration to plans for relocating. Permanently."
"Can you see me, living in the tropics, sipping one of those fucking fruity drinks with a pink umbrella or some shit?" I asked.
Crunch laughed. "I'm going to be a fucking surfer, man."
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