Keagan (This is Our Life Book 2)

by F. G. Adams

  She passes out of view and I whisper, “Until next time, hermana. I’m gonna miss you.”

  Alone again, I walk back to the front door and enter my home. I shut the heavy wooden door, lock the deadbolt, and turn on the alarm. Going into the den, I lie down on the couch as my thoughts swirl around all of the interesting people I met or came in contact with the past couple of days. The striking blue eyes of the grown up Keagan play over and over in my head.

  I pull the fluffy plush blanket over my body, curling up my legs and arms. Katrina’s thought-provoking words get me to think and reflect big time, wondering what can hurt the most in life: saying something to someone you care about and wishing you hadn't, or saying nothing at all and wishing you had? I have no regrets.

  Everything happens for a reason. I believe it. If you believe hard enough, anything is possible. But did Keagan and I go too fast? We just saw each other again after all those years and after the way things ended when Fallyn left. We never had that kind of relationship. Maybe it was the storm raging outside. Maybe it was the storm raging within us both. I really don’t have a clue. The simple truth is, we were two people with a need to fulfill and that’s exactly what happened.

  Do I believe fate played a role in bringing us back to together? One extraordinary night full of intense passion? I felt the connection, the one I had longed for. Yet without a thought, he up and left. The big jerk! The big, strong, beautiful, sexy, Hottie McHottie, tattooed-up jerk! I’m nuts.

  I stroll into the bedroom, into my walk-in closet, and reach my jewelry box. Pulling out the drawer I’m seeking, I grip two dainty angel wing earrings in my hand. The pair are beautiful. I remember the sentiment behind the gift. Although, as a teenager, it was the most perfect present I ever received. As an adult, I can’t make any sense of it.

  My thoughts aren’t taking a break and it seems I’m doomed either way. Time to pack up the craziness and go to my relaxing place. A jog around the neighborhood will help. It’s not early morning like my usual, but I need to release some pent up frustration.

  Donning my favorite grey and pink trainers, I head out the door to run away the pain that’s blasting my heart to pieces. It’s bad enough that the case with the twins had me reminiscing into unwanted territory. And now, seeing Keagan in the flesh has my emotions spiraling out of control on a whole new level. I’m mega pissed off at him, and if he were to show up right now, I’d give him a “what for?”

  The sun has made an appearance out from behind the clouds and a light sprinkle has started up again—a fox's wedding, a sun shower. It’s beautiful. As each drop falls down onto my weary body, cooling my overheated skin, my sanity slowly returns.

  Lost in my thoughts, I come around the next bend in the road and catch sight of a lone figure jogging my way. I cautiously glance over to make sure I’m not in his path, a bit leery of being out on the streets alone.

  “This is a safe community, Jo,” I mumble to myself. “People are watching everywhere.”

  At first sight, I can only see the outline of a hood. No face. No features. I’m spooked, but my worries ease as I see another jogger trailing behind him. Ducking my head and picking up speed, I attempt to pass by.

  An arm reaches out and grabs hold of me. I react instinctively, punching the anonymous culprit who grabbed me as hard as I can. I catch him in the shoulder and then assume the “don’t mess with me” pose.

  “Whoa, wait a minute! That’s some punch you have there, Miss Blackwood.”

  Like fingernails on a chalkboard, the voice of Desmond Payne pierces my ears. He holds his hands up, palms out in the universal surrendering pose.

  “What? What are you doing here?” I call out between breaths, because let’s face it, I’ve been running two miles.

  “What does it look like? I’m taking a run. I’m allowed. This is a free country.” His timbre reeks of deceit, but I let it go. This has to be a coincidence.

  “True, free country and all. But this is a private community, Mr. Payne. Do you live here?”

  “Are you alright, Miss?” The other jogger I saw trailing comes to a stop right beside me. He’s taken a defensive stance and I’m struck by how sexy he looks with his dark hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. Ear buds hang around his ears and my eyes head south to his shirtless muscular chest and lickable six pack abs. He’s decorated with sleeves of tattoos wrapping up around his shoulders and torso. Holy mother of pearl. Jerking my eyes back to his, a smile plays across his handsome face. I blush because I’ve been caught, darn it.

  “Yes, thank you. I’m fine.” I catch my breath from the run and the hot guy standing beside me.

  I level my stare on Mr. Payne. He’s dressed in a hooded rain jacket zipped up tight with sweat pants, and leather mid-top sneakers. If I was a bettin’ gal, I’d say he’s dressed for a gym workout, maybe. But a jog? My mind races as to why this man would be on a street that I run every day, in my gated community. It’s the same street I’ve never encountered him on before.

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” the sexy jogger guy says, nodding his head and moving just slightly to the side behind Mr. Payne, not too far off. For a brief second, I wonder why.

  Then I hear the sickening voice of Desmond Payne and I’m grateful.

  “I apologize if I startled you. It seems I do that to you quite a bit.” The hint of sarcasm in his voice grates over my skin, but I don’t let him see how he affects me.

  “It’s fine, really. I, uh, apologize for punching you. You know, a woman running on the street alone, can’t be too careful.” I allow a half smile and it doesn’t reach my eyes. I glance over to the jogger who has taken up stock on the sidewalk not far away, settled behind Desmond a few yards back. He’s doing stretches as he keeps his eye on us. For reasons beyond my comprehension, I’m grateful.

  “Well, that’s all fine and good. Don’t worry your pretty self over it. When I realized it was you, I just wanted to say hello.” He sounds off in a snarky tone.

  “Do you live here? In Palm Wood Manor, I mean. I’ve never seen you around, but that doesn’t mean anything, really.” I avert my eyes over his shoulder to the sexy jogger because I already know the answer—seen the file, got the scoop.

  “No, Miss Blackwood. I live at Charles Town Estates, the next community over from this one. But you already know that, don’t you?” His eyes are challenging. “I have a gate pass for all four properties owned by the franchise. I like to play golf, among other things, and this one has an excellent course. But the view here for running is like no other. So I come here often to run when I’m looking for a change. It is a wonder we’ve never run into each other before.”

  I don’t like his answer and I sure don’t appreciate the way his eyes have taken up residence of staring at my ta-tas.

  “Ah, sadly I must be going. Have a good run.” He turns to leave and then stops, calling over his shoulder, “You might want to think about carrying some mace or even a baseball bat when you jog, Miss Blackwood. This may be a safe gated community, but one can never be too sure of these kinds of things. Your punch and pose would do nothing to a man who wants to have you.”

  And then he’s gone.

  What the fudge? My mouth gapes open, eyes wide with shock. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. I stand there for a few more minutes, absorbing his finishing line. The warning starts a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. What does this man want? He has to have a few loose screws.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  I’m startled and completely jump out of my skin. Heart pounding and goosebumps pimpling across my skin, my cheeks heat to red with embarrassment.

  “Holy macaroni! You scared me to death, mister.”

  “Sorry, the name’s Oliver Bishop, ma’am. But most people call me Ollie.” He reaches out to shake my hand.

  “Nice to meet you Oliver, Ollie. I’m Jocelyn. New to the neighborhood?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s beautiful here. Aside from the hurricanes, football team, and mother na
ture included.” His friendly demeanor matches the beaming white teeth he’s sporting with his grin. He pauses and surveys the area. “I wanted to make sure that you were alright and the creeper had exited the area before I vacated.”

  “Well, thank you, sir. I mean Ollie. He was a creeper. I’m glad I wasn’t alone. Are you in the military? I mean, it’s none of my business, really, but you seem all ‘yes ma’am’ and using words like ‘vacated’. You sound like you might be.”

  Ollie laughs and I instantly smile back. I feel at ease talking to this stranger; he has that affect. He gives off the impression he’s one of those people everyone gravitates toward—easy and familiar.

  “Yes, ma’am. Well, not anymore. I served two tours in the middle east. Glad to be back home.”

  “Thank you for your service.” I raise my right hand over my heart in reverence. “Two tours? That must’ve been rough for you. I have a not-boyfriend who served over there.” This time I laugh at his expression. “I know, I know. Sounds strange. I haven’t seen him in years, since high school. Until a few days ago, in fact. He’s so different now. War really can change a person, huh?” I can’t believe I’m talking about this with a total stranger, like we’re best pals.

  “Ya know, it can.” Ollie’s eyes suddenly appear mournful. “The things that have to happen in the midst of chaos can rattle even the strongest soul. That’s all a bit depressing, isn’t it? I’m thankful I made it out and intact. Your ‘not-boyfriend’, too,” he adds, making air quotes with sadness etched across his face.

  I can’t help but ogle his abs as they ripple and bulge as he speaks. When I spot a puckered pink scar on his shoulder solidifying his statement, a wave of guilt washes over me. His posture reminds me of Keagan. Time to go.

  “Well, me too, Ollie. And I’m grateful you were here just now. Thank you again.”

  “You got it, Jocelyn. Now I have to get back to my run. It was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Bye!” I shout out as I eyeball his fine backside while he jogs away. Thank goodness he was at the right place at the right time. What a nice guy, the same way Keagan was way back when he cared.

  My psyche keeps sinking further into a heap at the back of my brain. So much for taking a run to clear my head. I’m a mess from the inside out. It was better when I dreamed about him on occasion. Now, I’m beginning to struggle. The deeper I go, the harder it will be to crawl out from the cavern with a K that’s consuming my heart. Although, I may never see him again. That one thought drives me to sadness. For some reason, deep down, I believe I’ll see him down the road. My head keeps reminding me I’m super pissed off, but my heart is playing a whole other tune. Darn it all, Keagan Fontneau.

  The frightening run-in with Desmond Payne didn’t help either. As I jog back to my house, my head is on a swivel as I survey my surroundings. I can’t be caught unawares again and I certainly can’t take any chances with Mr. Payne in my neighborhood. What the heck? The more I think about the encounter, the more disgusted I feel. He was threatening me or giving me a warning of sorts, as if he was attempting to intimidate me. If I’m honest with myself, I’d say he succeeded. I’m just thankful someone was there to intercede on my behalf. I hate to say it, but I wouldn’t want to be caught in a dark alley or otherwise with the likes of Desmond Payne.

  At the same time, I need to tread carefully. Obviously I’ve either uncovered something Mr. Payne is desperately wanting to keep hidden or I’m his newest obsession. Neither scenario appeals to me.

  When I make it back home and I’m all locked in again, I’m relieved. I’ve learned to be stronger over the years and not be scared of my shadow like I was when I was younger. Yet, I can’t help but think about how wonderful it would be to have someone here to share the burden. A certain someone to make me feel safe and cared for. A blue eyed devil with tattoos.

  Ring, ring, ring.

  Thoughts interrupted, I answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Miss … Blackwood? Hi, umm, shoot,” a whisper of a female voice sputters through the line. An undercurrent of panic and courage reaches out to me.

  “Yes, this is Miss Blackwood. Who is this? Crystal? Is that you?”

  I’ve only spoken with the twins at their school on one occasion, but my gut is screaming it’s her.

  “Yes, ma’am. I…umm. I wanted to call and see if you could meet with Cade and me. Our mom said that we should call you if we wanted to talk, she said it would be okay. We could both really use some advice.”

  I hear a muffled gruff voice in the background and can only assume it’s Cade from the tone and the words spewing forth. It sounds as if Crystal has placed her hand over the speaker to smother the conversation, but I’m able to hear the ranting anyway.

  “I don’t want to, Crys. You can’t make me. No one can help.”

  “Hush up, Cade. This is different, she is different.”

  “Hello, Crystal. Are you okay? Is Cade alright?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s all good. We just, well, it’s time for us to make things right. Can you meet us at school on Tuesday next week?”

  “Sure, Crystal. That’ll be great. Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with right now?”

  “No, thank you, Miss Blackwood. Tuesday will be great. We both look forward to talking to you then. Thank you.”

  “Speak for yourself, Crys,” floats through the line in a garbled murmur.

  “Alright, then. I’ll see you both at your school on Tuesday. Goodbye Crystal.”

  I hang up and feel even more confused. I’ve always considered myself an expert in my field, good at reading people, and therefore able to excel at helping those who need it, making the appropriate recommendations and fixing what’s broken—as long as the ones who need the help desire it. I was reborn or remade into the woman I am today because I longed to help others. I couldn’t do that for Fallyn or Harper, so I had to try a different approach to keep my own sanity intact. The more and more information I gather on this case, the less and less I know. And I feel as if I know everything about nothing. Crazy, right?

  Where strange conversations go, this one was one of the strangest I’ve had. And from a teenager, no doubt. What did all of that mean? Is Cade harboring a secret that Crystal wants to help reveal, or is it something more simple? Losing their dad, hormones, a stepfather such as Desmond Payne, the look of indifference on Calista’s face at our first meeting … all of it whispers through my mind. The list goes on and on. But one thing’s for certain: the kids wish to talk on Tuesday. I’ll be ready to listen.

  Something has to go right. Is it too much to ask for one thing in my life to go smooth as silk? For one circumstance to be easy-peasy? Like the old saying goes: learn from yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow.

  I guess I’ll have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.

  Twenty-eight hours, thirty-one minutes, ten seconds and counting. That’s how long I’ve been away from Jocelyn, and time seems to drag on and on. I know in my mind I did the right thing for her and me, but the look on her face when she gave herself to me has me doubting my actions.

  Roxy vying for attention drags my thoughts back to the present. Her head is nudging my hand, begging for me to pet her. We’re sitting around the makeshift conference room table waiting on Ollie to return from his surveillance of one of the players in this game. He’s been trailing a major benefactor, someone we believe will lead us to Big Daddy sooner or later. It’s a lead. We are running out of options and time.

  Rocky and Shannon returned late last night. They were sure no one was the wiser and the Phantom Prophets are on their way to Miami. Shannon reported they gave them the slip around Fort Lauderdale.

  Gunner and Lukas have their heads together whispering shit. When Gunner arrived, Lukas wasn’t too happy when he took apart one of his computers. The kid has a lot to learn.

  Lukas swats Gunner’s hand from his computer. “Don’t touch another damn thing, boy. This is expens
ive stuff. Didn’t you learn any manners growing up?”

  Gunner rubs his hand. “I’m trying to optimize the operating system and free up some memory. If you let me add this booster program too, you’ll be a flying ghost on the web. Not like you don’t have enough problems running what you have from that thing.”

  “Listen here, you little runt, I know exactly what I have. I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive and this is state-of-the-art equipment. Some of this shit isn’t even available on the open market.”

  “How ‘bout you let him help some, Lukas?” Rocky interjects. “Couldn’t hurt. We’re on a time crunch and two heads are better than one.”

  “Whatcha got, boy?” Lukas unhappily sulks.

  “I can tweak the existing toolchain bypassing the usual API with a fast-path interface. This will optimize the programs I’m going to add and enhance the performance so the search should take less time and we can beat them at finding what they are trying to find. I know my stuff, Lukas. C’mon, we’ve got to locate them before he does. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I had sent them in their direction.”

  “I have no idea what the hell he just said, but sounds like a viable option, Luc. Let him try it. What can go wrong?” Shannon adds before getting up for another cup of coffee.

  “Plenty, but I’m game. We need answers. I’m watching you,” Lukas reluctantly agrees, gesturing his two fingers from his eyes to Gunner’s.

  The elevator door opens. Ollie walks forward dressed in gym shorts and a t-shirt.

  “You’re not going to believe the gall of this egotistical dumbass I’m following. He’s a piece of work,” Ollie begins as he grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and finds a place to sit down.

  “Bad, huh?” I ask.

  “He likes bullying women. It’s sick, man. It took a lot of restraint not to haul him off and deck the motherfucker.” He takes a swig of the cold water and continues, “And the woman was a natural beauty, too. Hourglass figure to die for and, damn, her eyes … I haven’t seen a pair that green before, like emeralds. She almost decked him flat on his ass, so she’s got spunk.”