Chasing His Fox

by Debra Kayn

  They needed a selfish, desperate son-of-a-bitch to do their dirty work, and Tank Steel was the poster child.

  His crime was riding up to Steel Mechanics after his dad was murdered and arriving at the wrong time. Fingers were pointed at him before he could grasp what was happening. Used as bait, law enforcement focused on him instead of the person who was responsible.

  He was too late figuring everything out to save himself, and he'd paid.

  But it wasn't too late to save Scarlett.

  He balanced the weight of the motorcycle, testing his strength. Seeing the end in sight, he ignored the inward weakness of being laid-up for the last three weeks.

  "I'm ready." He started the Harley.

  Curley turned his bike around and waited for Nelson to lead him out. He pulled out on the street. Being back behind the handlebars bolstered his plan.

  Midday traffic kept him from rushing through the city. He took his time. Kept his head.

  The only person he cared about was sleeping, resting for her night at work, and pissed off at him for sending her away. Soon, it would be safe to love her, and he'd chase his fox until he caught her.

  He'd make up for treating her less than she deserved. No more push and pull. No more hiding. He'd beg her to sneak through the fence and be with him.

  Across town, he spotted more members of Tarkio Motorcycle Club. Situated at entrance points, they would make sure no police entered the area.

  He owed the club more than loyalty. They'd protected him, safeguarded the garage when he was in prison, and never judged him. Curley had never asked if he was guilty of murdering his father or the one responsible for bringing cocaine into Missoula.

  The only other person who accepted him for who he was without questioning his innocence was Scarlett.

  Today was as much for her as it was for him.

  He wasn't innocent. He'd done things he shouldn't have. He'd done things to survive.

  The front of the business came into view. He rolled around the corner without stopping, going to the parking lot behind the building. As planned, two Tarkio members would make sure nobody came out of the front door.

  He counted on the back door being unlocked. If not, he'd break the damn barrier down.

  Curley stopped at the back of the lot. Nelson wanted no help once he had the man in sight.

  He stopped his Harley, got off, and walked to the door. As expected, it was unlocked. Without missing a step, he went inside.

  A long hallway stretched out before him. A light came from a room on the right. He moved forward when the man he searched for stepped into the hallway, not expecting a visitor. The element of surprise showed on Jerry's face.

  "The bar is closed." Jerry rocked back and turned to get inside the room.

  "Don't move." Nelson approached him, stopping within three feet of Jerry. "I have something to say to you."

  "I don't know you." Jerry's arms straightened at his sides.

  "I think you do." Prepared for anything, Nelson kept himself alert. "I spent ten years in prison because of you."

  Jerry's gaze narrowed. "You're mistak—"

  "You ordered a hit on my dad, trying to cover your tracks of being the distributor for the Mexican cartel. That afternoon, a customer called wanting me to come to his location on the other side of Butte Canyon, offering to pay me triple the going rate. When I arrived, there was nobody there. I happened to arrive back home to find my dad murdered, my dog killed, and policemen wanting to arrest someone." Nelson's gaze narrowed on him. "Meanwhile, you're sitting back, living your life."

  "You need to leave, or I'm calling the cops."

  "I don't think you will." He took one more step closer. "You wouldn't want them to link you to the cocaine spread all through Missoula. Your hands aren't clean, Jerry."

  He might've been able to walk away if Jerry hadn't involved Scarlett. But, he had.

  "I never touched your father."

  Nelson believed him. Jerry had someone else do his dirty work. The man standing in front of him had put a hit out on Tank Steel and manipulated the situation for Nelson to take the rap.

  That order had taken him away from Scarlett for ten years.

  That man responsible for ruining Nelson's life had put his hands on Scarlett.

  Jerry reached behind him. Nelson struck out, his fist exploding at contact. He wouldn't let a gun come into play.

  "I'm not done." A calmness came over him. "Before the bar opens tonight, you'll make sure someone calls Scarlett and tells her she no longer has a job working for you, and you'll mail her a check. I'd suggest you be generous to soften the blow and make sure she never sets foot in the bar again."

  Jerry faced him, working his jaw back and forth. Nelson punched him again, knocking him off his feet. The last blow showed his intent, and Jerry raised his hands.

  A flashback of every time Nelson's father hit him. The pain. The shock. The rejection filled him. He let his rage out and continued to punch Jerry.

  He never felt Jerry's desperate blows hitting his already battered body. His focus remained on landing each punch.

  At times, he hit Jerry. Other times, his dad's face was in front of him. The control he'd kept his entire life slipped.

  Nobody would hurt him again. Nobody would touch him. Nobody would take what was his.

  He'd fight back.

  He'd seek justice.

  He'd win.

  Jerry fell to his knees. Nelson kicked out, stealing the air from Jerry's body as he crumbled.

  He made precise hits. The ribs. The kidneys. The head.

  Nobody had to teach him how to fight. He'd had it in him his whole life. Taught by experience, he gave only what he'd received.

  Knowing one more blow would kill Jerry, he stopped.

  Blood roared in his head. He uncurled his fingers and stared down at what he'd done. The fucker wouldn't die, but he would wish that he had over the next couple of months.

  He walked to the back door, pushed outside, and got on his Harley. The weight on his shoulders eased. There was only one more thing to do, and it would be his hardest fight yet.

  Chapter 32

  Scarlett

  HALF ASLEEP, SCARLETT walked out of her bedroom and turned to go down the stairs when her upper body pitched forward as her feet stopped. Catching herself with her hands, her fall cushioned by two garbage bags, she stared in confusion.

  She poked the sacks. It wasn't garbage, but softness inside.

  "What are you doing?" asked Hazel.

  Scarlett snapped her head up. Hazel stood in the doorway of her old bedroom. "What are you doing here?"

  Her sister pulled one bag out from under Scarlett. "I'm moving back home."

  Scrambling to her feet, she pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down. "What do you mean, you're moving home? Why aren't you at your house?"

  Hazel's face hardened. "I left Scott. We're getting a divorce."

  "You're what?" She followed her sister into the bedroom. "Why?"

  "He was having an affair. All this time, when I was working on our marriage, he was working on someone else." Her sister opened the sack and removed a bedspread. "I'm done with him, our marriage, and the house. I don't want anything from him."

  "Oh, God." She looked around at all of her sister's belongings in black, plastic garbage bags, brown paper grocery sacks, and items thrown haphazardly on the bed. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't be." Hazel tossed a pillow on the chair. "It was over when I had the miscarriage."

  Floored by the news, she gawked. How could she have missed knowing how many problems her sister had in her marriage? She thought they were working things out. If she had known Hazel was that unhappy, she could've helped her more.

  "What can I do?" she asked.

  "Don't borrow my clothes or use all my toothpaste." Hazel gave her a smile that never reached her eyes. "Also, be quiet when you come in from work. I'll be sleeping."

  "Bossy," mumbled Scarlett, remembering how it was when they bot
h lived at home with their mom.

  She moved to hug Hazel, and her sister stepped back, waving her hand. "Don't touch me yet. I don't want to fall apart, and I have a lot to do. I'm...I don't know...I feel like hitting something or falling apart. I'm just trying to hold it together."

  "Gotcha." She let her sister have her way, knowing what it felt like when everything she'd wanted and dreamed about was stripped away from her. "I'm going to grab a coffee, and then I'll help you. Do you have more to get out of your car?"

  "No, this is it. I can get the rest of the stuff this weekend when the man I foolishly loved will be working out of town." Her sister tore open another bag.

  Backing out of the room, Scarlett let Hazel deal with her separation in the way that she wanted and went downstairs. Her mom was at work. Obviously, Hazel had taken a day off.

  Life sucked at the moment for the Color Sisters. And though she was too old to be glad they were all back together again, she couldn't help feeling comfort from Hazel being back in the house.

  When she was younger, Hazel always seemed more mature and invincible. Now that they were both adults, she could see how much they were alike. The years dividing them melted away. They were sisters, and right now, they needed each other.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee, thankful that her mom had left the pot on. Taking her first sip, the phone rang.

  Moving over to the wall, she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

  "Scarlett Harris?" asked a man.

  "Yes. This is Scarlett."

  "Jerry wanted me to call and let you know your job at Riverside Bar is no longer available. He'll send you your final paycheck in the mail."

  She set down her cup of coffee. "Who is this?"

  "My name's Adam. I'm Jerry's business manager."

  Business manager? She'd never heard or met any person named Adam before.

  "Why wasn't I told about this last night at work?"

  "He's currently revamping the business and has hired an independent bar manager who starts today."

  "So, I'm fired?" She felt nothing.

  "Yes, ma'am. Your check will be issued today and put in the mail."

  She disconnected the call. Jerry had taken his sweet time to fire her. She'd expected to receive the news after she'd broken up with him.

  But getting the news from some guy she'd never heard of before and receiving the news at home wasn't how she'd imagined her firing to happen. Jerry wouldn't even allow her to go back to being a server.

  Remembering how Jerry acted with Wendy, she could guess why she was fired by phone call.

  "Shit." She hung up the phone on the wall and blew out her cheeks, letting the air out slowly.

  The last thing she wanted to do was go back to working at the grocery store with her mom and sister. Mr. Wilson would hire her on the spot, because of knowing her family all her life, but she liked the independence of being away from family members when she worked.

  That meant she'd need to go look for a job and only had two weeks to do so. After that, she'd run out of money.

  She groaned, feeling like her life was falling apart. First, Nelson, now her job. What else could happen?

  "What's wrong?" yelled Hazel. "I can hear you upstairs."

  Misery loved company, she shouted, "I just got fired."

  "No."

  "Yes." She picked up her coffee and trudged upstairs. "Do you know anywhere that's hiring?"

  "The grocery store." Hazel sat on the bed. "Better idea, we could put on our stocking masks and rob a bank, move to Hawaii, and find us two rich, old men who will pamper us until they die, and then we inherit their mansions."

  She sat down on the bed beside Hazel and leaned against her side. "What about mom?"

  "Hell, she'll probably be married again before we even get on the plane," said Hazel.

  Several seconds ticked by as she thought about what Hazel suggested, then she laughed softly.

  Hazel snorted.

  Her laughter grew louder. Hazel's body shook in amusement. The hilarity of their situations consumed them both, and they flopped back on the bed and let out all their pain until tears streamed down their faces, and sadness crept in, smothering them.

  Once she'd cried herself out and her sister sat up, wiping her face dry and sniffing hard, Scarlett stared up at the blank, white ceiling. No doubt, she'd hit another low spot in her life.

  "I should probably go do laundry." She continued looking above her.

  Hazel grabbed her arm. "Go, do your chores."

  She groaned, feeling twenty years older than she was and a hundred pounds heavier. All she wanted to do was go into her room and crawl back into bed. Maybe if she took a long nap, she would gain the energy to put her life back on track.

  Taking her laundry hamper downstairs, she'd finished putting the soap in the washer when banging caught her attention. Walking out to the family room, she cocked her head, seeing if Hazel made the noise upstairs and discovered the hammering came from outside.

  She peered through the sliding door. Nelson's head popped over the fence, then disappeared. The last time he'd made that noise, he'd made her a gate.

  Then, later, he'd nailed it shut and broke up with her.

  Turning away, she wasn't going to go see what he was doing. He could put up metal bars and weld them shut to keep her away if he wanted. She had no plans to go over there or see him or give him the satisfaction of knowing she paid attention to what he wanted to do with his life.

  She was tired of wanting him. Half her life, she'd chased after him.

  For ten years, she'd tried to move on. She'd dated. She'd experimented. She'd grown up. Then, Nelson came back and proved to her that she was only fooling herself, believing she could be happy without him. The truth was, she was only waiting for him to come home.

  Chapter 33

  Nelson

  AFTER MAKING SURE SCARLETT never headed to work four nights ago, and Jerry had fired her like he'd told him to do, Nelson spent most of his time between two car jobs and circling the block. He'd tried catching Scarlett out of the house, but she eluded him the whole time.

  Until today.

  He'd rounded the corner as her car pulled out of the driveway. Picking up speed, he went down the street and turned around, coming up behind her. She headed down the main road. For several minutes he feared her going to Riverside Bar, but she turned by the bookstore and flipped her turn signal on, pulling in front of a car insurance company.

  Scarlett got out of the vehicle before he stopped out on the street next to the curb. Wearing a black and white dress that hugged her curves and landed above her knees, she carried a large purse and strode up to the door in high heels.

  Taken aback, he dropped his hands from the handlebars of his Harley. His throat grew thick. He'd never seen her all grown up and wearing a fancy dress.

  Her self confidence made him aware of how sexy she looked. When she disappeared inside the building, he sucked in air. As if hit upside the head with a board, he sat there staring at nothing, waiting for her to reappear.

  He wanted to know the Scarlett he'd got a glimpse of today. The one who dressed up and surprised him. The woman who got to twenty-six years old and still came to him without any fear or hesitation.

  Sirens broke through his daze. His body tensed. Looking in his side mirror, he spotted flashing lights.

  His pulse accelerated. The cop car whizzed past him. Tension remained in his body.

  The presence of law enforcement in the area reminded him of where he came from. Deep in the police files, his fingerprints, mugshot, and crimes were listed. Any murder or drug bust that happened in Missoula, his file would be pulled, and fingers would point at him as a possible suspect.

  There were citizens, tourists, and criminals scattered throughout the city who knew the name Steel. He would forever walk into any business, and people would instantly judge him, even though he was innocent of the majority of the crimes they'd claim he'd done.

  The door of the ca
r insurance company opened, and Scarlett walked out with her shoulders squared. He wanted her to look over at him, but she got into the car and backed out of the parking space.

  As she stopped for traffic before going on the street, he started his Harley.

  Scarlett glanced in his direction, then looked away. His heart dropped.

  She pulled out on the street. He watched her drive away. As he grabbed the handlebars to trail after Scarlett, he caught her looking back at him. Encouraged, he followed her.

  Believing she would go home, he found himself taken on a winding path through residential areas, down to the river, back up past Burger King, and by the time he realized she was leading him on a wild goose chase, she circled their block twice before pulling into her driveway.

  He parked behind her car, trapping her from leaving. Staying on his motorcycle, he waited for her to get out of the car. When she opened the door, she refused to look at him and walked toward the house.

  Seeing her intention to avoid him, he got off the bike and strode after her, planning to catch her before she unlocked the door. Aware of what he was doing, she ran and got inside before he reached her. The damn fox could run in high heels.

  Staring at the front window, expecting her to put her face up to the glass and stick her tongue out at him or sneer like she had when she was younger, several minutes passed without sight of her. Knowing Scarlett's mom wasn't home because her car was gone from the driveway, he continued to the door and knocked.

  Then, he knocked again.

  She never answered, knowing he was outside. He walked back to his bike and rode home. He wasn't giving up. Tomorrow, he'd try again.

  Parking in the first bay of the garage, he left the overhead door open. He'd taken off time to heal after putting his past to rest, and then the last few days kept him busy stalking Scarlett. He'd put Steel Mechanics on the back burner. His desire to win back Scarlett came first.

  Right now, he needed to replace a catalytic converter in a Toyota 4Runner in the second bay.