by Carter Ashby
CHAPTER TEN
The next morning was Monday and, while the children had already gotten out for Christmas break, Zoey still had to go to work. Addy, who was getting her Master’s degree and worked as a teaching assistant, was also on break, so she would stay with Maya while Zoey was gone during the day.
The accounting firm where she worked was small, but growing. She’d interned there while in college and now had her own client list. A list which was about to grow, by one.
There was cake on Albert’s desk that morning. It was already half-eaten and everyone was milling around the office with their little paper plates and plastic forks. Zoey meandered past the fake Christmas tree and perched her hip on the edge of his desk. She cut herself a piece of cake.
Albert leaned back, a pleased expression on his face.
“So what did you decide on?” Zoey asked. “Alaskan or Caribbean?”
“Caribbean this month. Alaskan in the summer.”
“Early retirement. How’d you pull that off?” He was only fifty-eight.
“Well, I got my military pension and twenty years here, so the two retirements together made it possible. Pretty sweet.”
Zoey smiled, nodded, and bit into the cake. She was happy for Albert. She actually like him. One of the few people she had fond feelings toward. He was unemotional, and he minded his own business. His conversations were short and to the point.
“Had a request from one of my clients,” he said. “He wants you to take over.”
“He? Who?”
“Jayce Gilmore.”
Zoey almost choked. “Jayce hates me.”
“Really? He said you were friends.”
She shrugged and bobbed her head side-to-side in thought. “Maybe friends who don’t like each other very much. He requested me?”
“Yeah. Says he trusts you. You want him?”
“Yeah, I’ll take him. He’s got the bar and the gym and some rental property, right?”
Albert nodded and stuffed some more cake in his mouth. “I’ll email you his files today.”
Zoey went back to her desk mildly disgusted with herself for how pleased she was that Jayce wanted her for his accountant. After work, she drove to his bar to talk to him. She didn’t admit to herself that the little niggling in the corner of her mind was actually hope. Hope that Kellen would be there as he so often was.
Jayce glanced at her when she walked into the bar but otherwise made no reaction. She stopped halfway to the counter, her eyes drawn to the dartboard where Rick, a regular there, was throwing darts at her face. “Son-of-a-bitch! Rick, I thought you were better than that.” She stomped over, ripped the picture down, and then turned on him. “There’s a special place in hell for you,” she snarled. She crammed the photo into her purse and then made her way to the bar, which was mostly empty, being a Monday evening. “So are you a glutton for punishment, or what?” she asked Jayce.
He only glanced at her before going to work concocting some kind of drink that involved Vodka, Hot Damn, and Grenadine. He shook the mixture and served it to her in a martini glass. “What do you call this one?” she asked, taking a sip.
“The She-devil.”
“Aww. After little ole me?”
Jayce didn’t comment.
She liked the drink and took another sip. “Seem to recall last time I was in here you made me one called Hellfire and Brimstone. But that one sucked.”
His lips quirked up just slightly.
“Why do you want me to be your accountant?”
Jayce shrugged and tossed a rag over his shoulder. “Talked to Albert and he said the firm would assign me to a new accountant. I didn’t like the idea of someone new, so I asked for you.”
“Just because I’m familiar?”
“Sure—and I trust you.”
She nodded. “Okay. Well as long as you don’t mind seeing me around tax time.”
“You got that backwards. You’re the one who ain’t gonna wanna see me around tax time. I got wads of receipts and ledger books kept in pencil that’s smudged so much you can barely read them.”
“I see. This was your way of punishing me, huh? Wasn’t enough that I’m bound to hell for being such a bitch, you gotta make life on earth a misery, too.”
“I do what I can.”
Zoey sipped and glanced toward the door. She’d been stealing glances, not aware of how many.
“You waiting for someone?” Jayce asked.
“Oh, no. I just stopped in for a drink. And to make sure you hadn’t temporarily lost your mind.”
“Nope.”
“Good.”
She stared into her almost empty glass and swirled the drink around. Her coat was still on, her purse slung over her shoulder, poised to exit. Yet she didn’t leave. “Has Kellen been by?”
When there was no answer, she forced herself to look up. Jayce was scowling at her. “Comes by all the time.”
She swallowed. Don’t ask. Don’t do it. This isn’t high school. Stop, Zoey, stop! “Has he said anything about me?” Damn. It just slipped out.
“Why would he mention you?”
Zoey hitched a shoulder. She should have known she wouldn’t get anything out of Jayce. Her pride couldn’t bear to ask any more questions, so she drained her drink and slid the glass to Jayce. “That was good. You should put it on the sign.”
She stood.
“Hey.”
She stopped and turned to face him. He was still scowling. “How’s….” He paused and then lowered his voice. “How’s Maya? And her kids?”
“As good as can be expected. Why?”
This time it was his turn to look away and act uncomfortable. Zoey saw what she’d never noticed before, but should have. Now that she was looking, she could tell it had always been there.
He shrugged. “No reason. But…if she needs anything….” He trailed off and frowned down at his hands gripping the counter.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zoey said. She wasn’t one for physical displays of emotion but she suddenly felt she should reach out to him, or something. She knew how to help people and give to them, but she’d never really known how to be of comfort. Deciding to give it a try, Zoey reached across the bar and put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze.
He stared down at her hand and then up at her. “The fuck are you doing, Zoey?”
She quickly withdrew her hand. “Commiserating. Jeez, if you’re gonna be an ass about it.”
“Let’s just stick to the arm’s length rule of personal space, okay?”
“Fine, asshole. It’s the last time I try to be nice to you.” She hitched her purse up onto her shoulder and headed toward the door.
“Hey,” he said again.
She huffed and glared at him over her shoulder.
“You want me to tell him you came by?”
Biting her bottom lip and thinking for a moment, she said at last, “No, better not.”
He nodded and then moved down the counter to another customer. She went home to her little family and tried not to think about Kellen.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kellen’s phone buzzed. He was watching a Discovery Channel show about Alaska, trying to take his mind off Zoey. It was Friday night and nearly a week since she’d rejected him. He muted the television, tapped his phone, and held it to his ear.
“Hey, it’s Jayce.”
“What’s up?”
“Your brother’s here.”
“And he’s alive?”
Jayce laughed darkly. “Yeah, I’m back in my office. I thought you could come get him, save us all some blood-shed.”
“Sure. I’m on my way. But do me a favor and call the Sheriff. He’s got a protection order for Maya that he needs to serve.”
“My pleasure.”
Kellen pocketed his phone and left his cozy recliner. The sky was pitch black, and the air sank its sharp teeth into his skin.
The highway dipped and turned with the roll of the hills. He tried not to think of Zo
ey and how much he wished she was by his side right now. His life had been rich and fulfilling. He’d never felt there was anything missing. Why there should suddenly be a Zoey-shaped hole in his heart was a complete mystery.
It might help if he didn’t have to go to her house every day. He didn’t see her, since he only went while she was at work, but there was evidence of her everywhere and of the surprising depth to her kindness. She’d stocked her DVD shelf with Disney movies for the kids. There was always a tidy tray next to Maya, with her medication, a bottle of water, and an assortment of snacks lined up or stacked neatly. Best of all, when she’d learned he was visiting in the mornings, she’d begun leaving him a plate of breakfast wrapped in foil and a thermos of coffee.
Through her house, Kellen learned that Zoey was a neat and organized person; that she loved playing hostess and that she cared about details. He learned that she liked reading thrillers, she watched a lot of romantic comedies, and she owned a pretty sick collection of PlayStation games downstairs. He didn’t go into her room, but he did, one day, stand in the doorway and peek in. There was a huge quilt over her bed, cream colored with light blue flowers. Her pillowcases were yellow like the centers of the flowers. The only things on her nightstand were a lamp, iPhone dock, and a book.
All-in-all she seemed like a truly sane and stable individual. Kellen couldn’t help wondering where all the fire came from, and if the passion she showed in her anger transferred to other areas of her life. These were the things he tried not to dwell on as he drove to Jayce’s bar.
He arrived right behind the sheriff. Inside the warm, beer-scented tavern, the Sheriff went to stand over Damon and hand him a paper. Damon sat quietly, taking it and nodding along. At least he wasn’t screaming and throwing things.
Jayce stood behind the bar, leaning forward and skewering Damon with his eyes. He turned and barely softened when he saw Kellen.
“Beer?” he asked.
Kellen shook his head. “Seems like he’s not causing trouble.”
“He’s not. Got a lot of nerve, though, coming in here.”
Kellen studied his friend for a moment. “Do you still have feelings for Maya?”
Jayce shot him a look but otherwise didn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Jayce’s eyes narrowed.
The sheriff left, and Damon bellied up to the bar, sliding his beer glass across to Jayce. “Fill that back up, will ya?”
Kellen thought it best not to let Jayce speak. “All right, Damon, let’s get out of here.”
Damon snorted. “Where the fuck should I go? Home? It’s not home without her there. And now I find out I can’t even go talk to her. Why would she do that?”
Kellen felt the ripple of tension that pulsed from Jayce. “Let’s go sit over there and talk about it.” He led Damon to a corner table and lowered his voice. “You can’t come in here anymore.” He jerked his head toward Jayce.
Damon glanced back. His eyes widened. Then they narrowed. “What the fuck is his problem?”
“He wants you dead, so you can’t come back in here again.”
“Free country,” he muttered.
“Not in here. Jayce is one of those guys for whom going to prison is not much of a deterrent when it comes to things he cares about. And he cares about Maya.”
This time, Damon’s expression mirrored Jayce’s. “Boy better keep his goddamn hands off my wife.”
“Damon, what are you doing here? Where have you been?”
He slumped in his chair. “Just been driving around. Slept in my car a couple of nights, ‘bout froze my ass off. Then went to that shitty hotel down by the river. I gotta get her back.”
“You’re not getting her back. You broke her rib and beat the shit out of her face.” His stomach clenched at the taste of the vile words. “You need to stay away from her. You can move back into your house, because she’s not going back there ever again.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed again. “Whose side are you on, asshole?”
“Hers. I thought that was clear. I’m here right now to deliver you out of this place alive and make sure you know you can’t come around Maya and the kids.”
“What kind of a brother are you?”
“Right now, I’m her brother.”
“She staying out with you? Are you fucking my wife?”
“Jesus, Damon! Listen to yourself. Just stay away, okay?”
Damon leaned back in his seat. Then he leaned forward. His hands fisted and unfisted. His jaw muscles twitched. “She’s not staying with you,” he muttered to himself. “She’s staying with that bitch, Zoey Odell.”
Kellen tensed, recognizing the protective reaction for what it was. He had to deliberately remind himself that Zoey didn’t need him to defend her. “All that matters is you gotta stay away.”
“That redheaded whore always was trying to get Maya to leave me. She’s poisoned her mind against me.”
“Damon!” Kellen shouted, finally losing his cool. “Listen to me; stand up, walk out of here, and stay away from Maya. It’s that fucking simple.”
Damon stood, grabbed the edge of the table, flipped it aside, and grabbed Kellen by the front of his shirt. “You don’t talk to me about my wife. She’s mine, and I’ll see her whenever I damn well please.”
Spit and rank breath hit him in the face. Kellen’s ears rang with rage. “Get your goddamn hands off me!”
Damon shoved him, reared his fist back, and swung. The punch connected with Kellen’s jaw. His head snapped to the side and his vision went momentarily black.
The last time Damon had punched him, Kellen had been sixteen years old. Damon’s punches had always knocked him either down or out. This time he stayed on his feet. He recovered and swung his own fist into Damon’s face, slamming him in the eye. Damon stumbled back and then charged.
Kellen landed on the edge of a chair and thanked God Jayce was such a cheap-ass business owner, because the chair splintered and broke beneath him. Damon landed another punch to his face and one to his gut. Enraged, Kellen grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back. He managed to roll Damon to his back and then land his own pair of punches.
On his third and fourth swing, he hit air before he realized Jayce was dragging him off his brother. No one was holding Damon, though, so when he charged, Jayce shoved Kellen to the side and swung his fist.
If Damon ran head-first into a brick wall, it would have done less damaged. He bounced backwards from the impact of Jayce’s fist and fell to his back. Blood gushed down his nose and into his mouth. He choked and rolled to his side.
Kellen breathed hard through his teeth as the world came spinning back to a stop. The red in his vision cleared. Jayce stood over Damon, his eyes cold and his expression calm. Damon finally looked up at him and had the sense to stay on his back.
Someone had called the sheriff, who hadn’t been too far down the road. He stepped into the bar and helped Damon off the floor. “They attacked me,” Damon said, pointing at Jayce and Kellen.
Kellen started to defend himself, but Jayce rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
“What?”
“Down to the station for questioning.”
“Why?” Kellen asked. “We didn’t do anything.”
“It’s all right, Jayce,” the sheriff said. “Y’all just have a seat and I’ll get your stories here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I figure with a nice guy like Kellen involved, this was probably a one-sided fight.”
Jayce slapped Kellen on the back. “Awesome. I’ll have to keep you around more often.”
Kellen winced at the friendly slap. His entire back felt bruised.
The sheriff took Damon out to his car. He came back a few minutes later for Kellen’s and Jayce’s statements. After he left, Kellen dropped his head to the bar. The adrenaline abandoned him. He felt more hung-over than the morning after a drinking binge. “Pain,” he groaned. “So much pain.”
>
“You want whiskey or aspirin?”
“Aspirin.”
A moment later, a bottle hit the counter. Kellen lifted his head and took the aspirin bottle. He popped four of the pills and downed them with the water Jayce handed him. Just then his phone rang and he found himself even more grateful for the aspirin.
“How dare you!”
Kellen closed his eyes. “Mom, he attacked me.”
“Now your father has to go down and bail him out. After all he’s been through, you have to go and have him put in jail?”
“He attacked me in a public place.”
“Kellen, he’s family. You need to think about that and get your act together.” She hung up.
“I’m rethinking the whiskey,” Kellen groaned. “Mom and Dad are backing Damon.”
“What?” Jayce asked.
Kellen shook his head. “I showed them pictures of Maya. They don’t believe Damon did it. They’re in some major denial.”
“Shit.” Jayce began wiping down the bar. His jaw muscles were tight, and Kellen could tell he was loaded with anger he didn’t know what to do with.
“She’s gonna be okay, man,” Kellen said. “I’ll take care of her. She’ll be safe.”
Jayce met his eyes. “If she needs anything…if there’s anything I can do….”
“I’ll let you know.”
Jayce held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. He finished wiping down the bar, this time with less aggression.
Kellen went home, but found he couldn’t sleep. He was too disturbed by his parents’ behavior. Too worried about Maya. Too fascinated with Zoey. He wound up sleeping fitfully sometime around four in the morning.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The sobbing coming from the living room woke her up. Zoey hurried out in her nightshirt to find Maya clutching a phone to her ear and crying. Whoever was on the other end of the line was yelling.
Zoey marched to her, snatched the phone, and said, “Who the fuck is this?”
“How dare you!” shouted the female voice, and then the line disconnected.
Zoey slammed the phone onto the table. “Who was that?”