by Liza Street
Summer returned to her work, wondering if she’d ever feel like dating again. Likely not. After all, she was happy alone. Free to go where she wanted, when she wanted. No risk of someone stealing her information or identity…or her heart.
Chapter Three
Jackson woke up when the Raptor slowed to a stop. Hayley nudged him from her spot in the back seat. “Hey, douche brain, it’s your turn to wash the windshield.”
He groaned and stretched while feeling for the door handle. “Where are we?”
“Lakewood,” Will said before getting out of the truck and slamming the door.
In the quiet cab, Jackson could hear the fuzzy sounds of punk rock coming from Hayley’s headphones. She leaned back, her brown, wavy hair splayed across her head rest.
They were in Lakewood. Jackson’s heart sped up. So close to their old territory. All they’d have to do was break off onto 512 to get to 410, and drive straight to the little town of Huntwood and Mount Rainier National Park—their family’s territory of Dark Pines.
Jackson climbed out of the truck. Nestled between the pumps was a station with squeegees and paper towels. Jackson grabbed a squeegee and approached Will, who stood at the side of the truck, fiddling with the payment options on the gas pump.
Jackson cleared his throat. “You know—”
“Don’t start,” Will said, his voice a growl.
Jackson kicked one of the tires. Water drops from the squeegee dripped onto the concrete. “I heard they aren’t even there anymore.”
“I said don’t start.”
“Will, we’re so close. It wouldn’t hurt anything to go check it out. They got what they wanted—they got rid of our parents. They must have moved on after that.”
“You don’t know that,” Will said.
A Jeep full of college-aged women pulled up to the opposite side of the gas pump. The women spilled out of the Jeep, stretching so that their short t-shirts lifted, exposing flat bellies that looked far too tanned to be natural in Washington. They eyed Will and Jackson with interest, but Jackson had more important things to consider at the moment.
“You’re right, we don’t know they’re gone,” Jackson said. “And we’ll never know unless we check it out.”
Will turned to face him, flashing his blue eyes, the Jaynes siblings’ most obvious shared characteristic. “I said not to start, Jackson.”
Jackson hit the side of the truck with his open palm. “Dammit, Will, this is messed up.”
Will left the gas pump running. Favoring his left leg, he strode over to Jackson, getting in his face. He had one measly inch on Jackson, which he liked to crow about when they were talking shit about each other. Jackson refused to be submissive now. He refused to look away. Instead he stared, eyes locked on Will.
“What’s messed up,” Will said, “is that we promised each other—you, me, and Hayley—that we would never go back. We would find somewhere to settle down and Washington no longer held a place for us.”
“That was four years ago,” Jackson said. “Have we found somewhere else to settle down? Have we ever stopped running? Maybe we haven’t found a place because Dark Pines is where we need to be. It’s our birthright, Will.”
Will’s voice got dangerously low. “You promised. Hayley promised. I promised.”
“Things change. Please, let’s just check out Huntwood.”
“Not everything changes.”
The gas pump clicked, signaling the tank was full.
Will glared at Jackson for five full seconds before spinning around and limping back to the gas pump. “Get in the truck,” he barked.
Jackson could feel his jaw tightening. Over the past four years of cramped quarters and way too much time spent with his siblings, he’d been pissed at Will before. Furious, even. They always fought, and then they always made up. But he’d never been so full of rage as he was right now.
“I’m going to tell you one more time,” Will said, warning in his voice. “Get in the truck.”
Jackson watched as Will climbed in. Then he looked down at the squeegee in his hand. “Fuck this,” he said.
One of the college girls leaned against the Jeep. She looked Jackson up and down. “You want to go to Huntwood?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s near Mount Rainier, right?”
Jackson nodded.
“We’re headed to the mountain for a hiking trip. We got another seat if you want it.”
Jackson considered her. “Your friends won’t mind?”
“Not a bit.” She grinned.
Will’s Ford rumbled, a warning growl.
“Hang on,” Jackson said. He walked up to the driver’s side window and knocked.
Will lowered the glass, scowling. “What?”
“I need to get something from the trailer.”
Narrowing his eyes, Will tossed him the travel trailer key and said, “Fine.”
Jackson jogged back to the trailer. He opened the door and stepped inside. This was it. The moment he parted with his siblings. Was there any going back after this? What if Will and Hayley went straight up to Canada and never came back? What if they did come back, but they didn’t want to have anything to do with Jackson?
He found his duffel bag, stashed in the drawers beneath his bed. He packed a few changes of clothes, his phone charger, and his emergency cash that Will insisted they each keep. Standing back, he looked at the bulging duffel. This was it? His entire life, crammed into a bag?
Just another brutal slap from reality that he didn’t have a place to call home.
He touched his back pocket, making sure his phone was there.
The Dark Pines territory used to be home. Maybe it could be home again.
After closing and locking the trailer, Jackson returned to the driver’s side door and handed Will the key. “Thanks,” he said. “Stay in touch.”
“What?” Will asked. Then he spotted the duffel bag Jackson held. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m breaking a promise I never should have made in the first place.” Jackson backed up, through the space between the gas pumps, closer to the Jeep which waited for him. The young women had all piled back inside and sat, watching his exchange with Will.
“Don’t do this, J,” Will said.
The rear window opened, and Hayley stuck her head out. “Jax?”
He shook his head, at both of them. “I have to see this through.”
The Jeep’s door opened and Jackson climbed in. One of the women grabbed his duffel and tossed it behind the back seat.
The driver turned around to smile at him, her sunglasses hiding her eyes. “We good to go?”
“Yeah,” Jackson said. “Thanks.”
Will’s Ford still hadn’t moved. The Jeep burned rubber, screeching away from the gas pumps. Jackson turned to stare at Will’s truck, wondering if he’d done the right thing.
His phone buzzed with a notification. He had a message from Summer. Without even needing to look at what she’d written, he knew he’d done the right thing.
Chapter Four
On Friday, Summer walked into work, and groaned. Everyone else had gotten here before her—the receptionist, the dentist, and the other hygienist.
Anya, the receptionist, was usually the last one in and got stuck with coffee duty. Now, she sat back in her rolling chair and gave Summer a big smile. She used a single finger to nudge a wad of cash and an index card across the counter toward Summer. “Thanks, doll. Bring back a couple extra creamers, okay?”
Summer grabbed the wad of money and the index card with drink orders and stalked right back out the way she’d come. The coffee shop was two doors down. As she waited in line, the fine hairs prickled on the back of her neck. She’d worn her hair up in a braided crown today, not caring that it looked a little young. It wasn’t like she was going out for drinks tonight to look for guys.
“I can help you here,” a barista said at the cash register.
Summer dutifully stepped forwa
rd. There was that feeling again, that she was being watched. Maybe Anya was staring out the office window, gloating that it wasn’t her job to get the drinks today. Pushing the feeling away, Summer read off the index card. “And a medium mocha,” she said. She paused for a second before adding, “Extra whip, please.”
It felt like it would be that kind of a day, where extra whip was not only a comfort but a necessity.
*
She forgot to leave her phone with her purse after lunch, and she felt it buzzing in her pocket while she cleaned Patricia Kunig’s teeth. Was the message from Jackson? And if so, what did it mean that she kept hoping to get messages from him? Especially the flirty ones. She really liked those. They made her feel like something was possible.
She pulled the polisher from Mrs. Kunig’s mouth and gave her some water to swirl, then stuck the saliva ejector back between her lips. After setting her tools aside for cleaning, Summer moved the op light out of the way and pressed the pedal to lift the patient chair up.
“Thanks, dear,” Mrs. Kunig said. “You always have the gentlest touch.”
Summer smiled at her. “Thanks.”
“You know, I was thinking about you and my grandson, Derrick. He’s a good boy and he’s single.”
“I know Derrick,” Summer said with a smile. “Nice guy. However, he only dates boys.”
Mrs. Kunig frowned. “I bet he’d make an exception for you, sweetie.”
Summer couldn’t help laughing. “That’s very kind of you to think so. Maybe next time try Matthew, our other hygienist.”
“Oh, he’s very nice, too,” Mrs. Kunig mused.
From inside her pocket, Summer’s phone buzzed again, reminding her that some kind of message awaited. She walked with Mrs. Kunig to the front desk and handed her the complimentary toothbrush, travel toothpaste, and floss.
As soon as Mrs. Kunig was busy trying to wheedle Matthew’s phone number from Anya, Summer turned around and took her phone from her pocket.
Three messages.
One was from her email app, telling her she had a new email.
One was a text from Becca, confirming their girls night out.
And the third was from SocialBook, telling her she had a message. She smiled to herself and opened that one first.
JRJ: I’m going to be in Huntwood, looking for some old friends. While I’m there, do you want to get lunch?
Summer swiped the app off her phone screen as fast as she could. She leaned against the wall where the lead vests hung, taking deep breaths. Lunch? Did she want to get lunch?
With Jackson?
After all this flirting, she’d finally get to see him in person. She’d find out if he was as funny and cute face-to-face, or if it was just the effect of a text-based friendship.
She’d have to think about it.
She opened her email next and groaned. Another credit card company that she hadn’t heard of. You’ve missed several payments and MoneyCard will be forced to take legal action against you.
Not another one. She forwarded it to Becca with the message, Yes, we’re on for girls night. You’re driving.
As far as meeting Jackson? No. No way. That email from the credit company only strengthened her resolve. Sure, one part of her desperately wanted to meet him. But she’d felt this way before, about Cory. Excited at the prospect of getting to know someone. Trusting someone. Giving someone access to her life, her heart. And it had left her miserable and in debt.
Chapter Five
Jackson had been in Huntwood for four days now, haunting the edges of his family’s property, living out of a shitty motel room, wondering if he’d find a way to see Summer. He’d finally gotten the nerve to text her about meeting this morning, but she hadn’t written back.
Now he stood outside Huntwood’s only rental car place, waiting for the clerk’s lunch break to end. The guy sat in there, slowly munching on a sub sandwich and listening to talk radio. Jackson felt sorry for the guy, who looked lonely, but he felt even sorrier for himself.
Summer still hadn’t messaged him back.
He sent another message. Hey, I’m sorry. We don’t have to meet in person. It was just an idea.
He waited, but she didn’t write back even though it was around noon, a time when she usually messaged him. He’d scared her off, he just knew it. Things had been safe and comfortable between the two of them for a little over two months, and now he’d had to go and screw it up by coming to Huntwood…and telling her about it. Asking her to meet. It was too much pressure. He should have hinted around it for a while, felt out the situation a little bit more. If she didn’t want to meet in person, that was fine. He’d content himself with her messages for his whole life if that’s what it took.
But what if he’d scared her off forever?
“Please,” he whispered, “don’t ignore me for good.” He just wanted her witty comebacks and pufferfish pictures back on his phone.
An empty tightness filled his chest as he looked across the two-lane highway at the little strip mall across from the rental place. Behind that strip mall, a gorgeous view of trees and mountains, with Mount Rainier beyond. Home. This was home. And as great as it felt to be here, it felt foreign to him because he was here alone, without his siblings, which were the closest thing he had to a pride. If Summer had been willing to see him, if there was a possibility there, it might have helped.
As it was, though, he was completely, utterly alone.
“Comin’ in, or what?” a loud, abrasive voice said from behind him.
He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t even noticed that the rental car clerk had finished his lunch break. Jackson mentally shook himself. Especially now, without the added vigilance of Will and Hayley, he needed to keep smart and alert.
He stepped into the small office, wrinkling his nose at the competing scents of ancient carpet, body odor, and a ripe sub sandwich with meat that hadn’t been exactly fresh.
The man behind the counter had dark brown hair and a pasty color of skin that signaled he rarely ventured outside. He sat back in his chair and scratched his ear. “What can I help you with, son?”
“I need a car,” Jackson said, trying not to breathe through his nostrils.
“I can help you there,” the man said, chuckling. He grabbed a clipboard and thrust it across the counter to Jackson. “Here’s the paperwork. I need to make a copy of your driver’s license. How long will you need the car?”
“A week or so,” Jackson said. “I’m not sure exactly, yet.”
“Just put all the particulars onto the form and we’ll get you sorted out.” The man turned up the volume of a portable CD player, and the chitchat on the radio grew louder.
Jackson winced and took the clipboard to a set of chairs opposite the counter. The borrowed ballpoint pen scratched against the paper while he filled out the forms. Name: Jackson Robert Jaynes. Age: 25. Driver’s license number, address—he filled those out, giving a PO Box for the address because they hadn’t had a physical home since they left Washington.
His phone sounded in his pocket, the double-chirp that signaled a text from Hayley or Will. It was strange to have to text them—they’d been so often in close quarters over the past four years that they’d simply talked whenever they had something to say. This time, it would have to wait until he got the car issue taken care of.
He took the clipboard back to the clerk and waited. The clerk looked everything over, made a copy of Jackson’s driver’s license, and unlocked a tiny safe behind the counter.
Jackson peered in the safe when it opened. A single keyring sat inside it.
“One car left,” the clerk said, grinning. “You got here just in time.”
Jackson wanted to laugh. Like there was some mad rush on rental cars about to take place.
“Right this way,” the clerk said.
Jackson followed him outside. There were only two cars in the lot, a bright green Chevrolet Spark and a white Ford Escape.
His phone gave the d
ouble-chirp again. He fished it from his pocket and spotted the texts from Hayley.
Hayley: Whatcha doin’, ass melon?
Hayley: Miss you.
Jackson: Getting a car. Leave me alone for a second.
Of course, she kept texting him, and the whole while, Jackson’s heart was sinking as he saw that they weren’t walking toward the Ford Escape, but toward the tiny little Spark.
“This is a toy car,” Jackson said, pointing to it. “What about the Ford?”
“Already spoken for,” the clerk said.
“Seriously?” Jackson asked.
“Seriously.”
The clerk wasn’t lying, but there was more to it.
“Hey, are you the one who’s spoken for it?” Jackson demanded.
The clerk shrugged. “No.”
Yeah, right. Because he was a shifter, Jackson could figure out when someone was lying, and the clerk definitely was. “I’m not gonna fit in this little thing,” Jackson said. “Look at me.”
At six foot two, he wasn’t short.
The clerk said, “Sorry, but this is the only one. If you don’t want it, no problem.”
Jackson needed a car to get around. Huntwood was a small town, but it sprawled. He couldn’t shift into his mountain lion form every time he needed to travel across town. And then there was the question of catching up with Will and Hayley, because if there was no reason to stay here, he’d have to meet up with them somehow, and he knew for a fact that Will wouldn’t pick him up anywhere near the Dark Pines territory.
Jackson sighed. “I’ll take the clown car.”
“Good decision,” the clerk said. “Here are the keys.”
Hayley: What kind of car did you get?
He snapped a photo of the Spark and sent it to her.
She sent back a series of cry-laughing emoji. At least one of them thought it was funny.
*
After returning to his cheap motel on the outskirts of town, Jackson worked for five straight hours, organizing events, social media posts, and a giant SocialBook party for the Licorice Fiddles. When he finished, it was already dark.