Redemption

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  “Tara, he’s showing you a funny pair of skivvies. Where do you get breaking it off from that?”

  “What else could it mean?”

  “Oh my god, you are clueless. It means he wants to fuck you, clearly.”

  “But it could mean like eff-off.”

  She licked at the salt on the rim of one of the bargain margaritas the waitress had just set down.

  “How do I respond?” I asked.

  “Easy. Send him a crotch-shot.”

  I threw a chip at her. “Whore.”

  “Slut! I’m not the one fucking a felon.”

  The tourists next to us were staring. Our favorite happy hour location was full of them – right on the Vegas Strip outside the Miracle Mile shopping mega-center. The misted patio provided the perfect place to sweat it out on a summer day over discounted margaritas and people watch.

  “It’s okay, we’re locals,” Maddie said to two businessmen. Their table was crowded next to ours, and the lanyards around their necks gave them away as in town for one the many trade shows. “Fucking felons is legal here.”

  They turned back to their burritos, clueless at how to respond to that.

  “Can you not make a scene every time we come here?” I said, glancing at the image again. “Could he have meant he’s angry at me?”

  “For…?”

  “His daughter’s first visit with her grandparents is coming up. I talked him into that. Maybe he’s reconsidering…maybe he blames me for getting him to agree to it?”

  “Or maybe you are a lunatic who second guesses every damn thing in her life and reads too much into things.”

  She was right.

  “Okay, fine.” I tapped out a reply to his picture.

  Cool. What do they mean?

  And nothing.

  Another margarita later, and there was still no response. Maddie rattled on about her daddy issues and her last date, but all I could focus on was my phone. He never replied.

  “He saw it, but didn’t answer! I knew he was mad.”

  “Tara, have you heard anything I’ve said in the last twenty minutes?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. I’m a crappy friend.” I put the phone screen side down on the sticky table.

  Maddie smiled at me and leaned in. “You’re my best friend. But I think, my dear Tara, that you are falling hard for this guy and that is fabulous! As long as you don’t get murdered.”

  “Yeah, well if Hank finds out…”

  Her face went serious. “Is he that dangerous? I know he won’t let you go, but do you really think Hank would hurt you?”

  My stomach went into a knot. “There’s so much I haven’t told you.”

  Two margaritas, far too many carbs, and several hours of shopping later, I was on my way home. But within minutes, I was being pulled over. One glance in my rearview mirror, and my blood ran cold.

  I tucked my phone into my back pocket as he tapped on my window.

  Rolling it down, I took a deep breath.

  “Well Miss, it seems you had too much to drink tonight.”

  “Uh, no, I had a bit very early in the afternoon. Before dinner.”

  “I’m gonna need to do a sobriety check.”

  “C’mon Hank! You know damn well that I didn’t—”

  “Don’t make me arrest you, darlin’, because I’ll do it.”

  He glanced back to his unmarked car, the light on the top precariously perched above the driver’s door. “Dan is here. You don’t want to make a scene in front of our two-time best man, do you?”

  Hank’s best friend and partner, Dan West, was a decent guy, and I was relieved he was there. If he hadn’t been, who knew what Hank would try to get away with?

  “What do you want?”

  “Just a chat.”

  “Okay, chat.” I felt my phone buzz in pocket and prayed that Hank couldn’t hear it.

  “At our place. We need to make sure you get home safely after those two giant margaritas at Cabo, of course.”

  My blood ran cold. He’d been stalking me the whole time, down to counting my drinks.

  “You mean my place, and you can’t do that.”

  “I can and I will. What’ll it be, wifey? A DUI, reckless driving maybe, or a supervised chat at your place?”

  As usual, I was stuck. “Okay, but Dan stays the whole time. You leave together.” If he agreed, he’d do it. The monster was a lot of things, but his one redeeming quality was he never went back on his word.

  “Deal. We’ll follow you there. Try not to commit any infractions on the way.”

  At the first stoplight, I glanced at my phone. A missed call – from Shawn. I couldn’t risk calling him back with Hank one car behind me.

  It took me three stoplights before I could shoot him a text.

  Hey, got caught up. Call you later.

  He didn’t answer.

  My eyes met Dan’s as he opened my car door outside my condo. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Dan.”

  “I’ll do my best. Just don’t provoke him. He’s pretty damn spun up, Tara.”

  They followed me to my door. Once inside, Hank plopped himself down on my sofa, shoes and all.

  “What do you want?” I asked him.

  “Jack and Coke, as usual.”

  “I meant what are you doing here?”

  “Safety check.” He glanced to Dan, still standing in the foyer. “Hey, Danno, how ‘bout you whip us up some drinks.”

  We all knew he was on-duty, but rules mattered little to Hank Larsen. He did as he pleased, and had the money, from payoffs, and a network of filthy cops to back him up.

  “Thank you,” I said as Dan silently handed me a glass of merlot.

  Hank took several slugs of his drink before slapping the glass down on my sofa table. “So, T, it seems rumor around the city is that you have quite the gangster on your hands.”

  “Gangster?” My tone was casual, but my heart was pounding.

  “Mack MacKenzie, Saints and Sinners?”

  “Is that the name of a gang?” Show no fear, I chanted in my mind.

  “Don’t play dumb, Tara. You do it so well naturally, no need for the act.”

  “Shawn MacKenzie’s daughter is a file of mine, yes. Safety check from the grandparents, mainly. The mother left the baby with him.”

  “And you’ll take the kid away.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s a good home. I’ve thoroughly investigated and…”

  “You’ve investigated so well that you haven’t heard of the fucking scariest gang in Nevada? You’ve checked him out so well that you didn’t notice the goddamn symbol on his hand?”

  I set my wine glass down. “I knew he had a history with a gang. But as far as I can see, he’s been law abiding since he left prison.”

  Hank snorted and rudely wiped at his nose in disgust. “You fucking steer clear of him, my darling.”

  “Well, as soon as the case is over.”

  “If he lays one finger on you, he’ll fucking end up in a drainage ditch. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” His stare never let me. “Listen, Hank, I have a full day tomorrow.”

  “I’ll leave when I’m ready. I pay for this place, by the way.”

  I waited, hoping he wouldn’t take it any farther with Dan there.

  “Do you know what his sentence was?”

  “Manslaughter.”

  “Yeah, and the piece of slime got almost no time. Five years I think he ended up with or some bullshit.”

  “Well, from what I read in the file,” I said, trying not to show too much concern. “It seemed like there was some justification. Someone brutally beating up his girlfriend, or something like that?”

  “Yeah, whatever. She was a drugged out whore. Who gives a shit? MacKenzie beat the victim to a bloody pulp – the guy was completely unrecognizable afterward. Died two days later. Sure looked like murder to me.”

  “The jury and the judge seemed to not agr
ee with you, Hank.”

  I’d tipped my hand, and he jumped up, his finger pointed down in my face. “He’s not only a thug, he’s a connected one. You fucking stay clear of him, Tara, and I’d better not hear that you let that criminal keep some baby.”

  As hard as it was, I didn’t flinch. “I’ll do what’s right, like I always do.”

  With one quick gesture, he picked up his glass and splashed the rest of his drink in my face. I didn’t move as it burned.

  “Sorry ‘bout all this, Tara,” I heard Dan say as my front door slammed behind them.

  An hour later, once I was sure Hank wasn’t following me, I pulled up in front of the trailer. Not in my car – that was now too dangerous. Instead, I’d taken a taxi there. An actual taxi, not a rideshare. I couldn’t risk being pulled over again, and I knew a cab would be less likely to be targeted by my ex and his crooked friends.

  “Oh hey,” he said with a yawn at the door. “I didn’t think you were coming over tonight. You never called me back.”

  I walked in past him, nervous to stand outside for very long. “I got caught up in something.”

  He cocked his head to one side, seeing through me as usual. “Yeah, I think I need to know more about that.”

  “Can you close the door? And the blinds?”

  “Who are you afraid of, Tara? Where’s your car?”

  “Oh, it was acting up.”

  “Uh, huh. Brand new Lexus – yeah, those are always breaking down.” He rolled his eyes at me as he bolted the door.

  “What did that text mean today?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I thought it was funny, but I don’t text well. Thought I’d try. Why?”

  I finally let myself relax. “I tend to over-analyze things.”

  “Shocker.”

  “Is Grace awake? Can I see her?”

  “She’s out, she just ate like a fiend. You’re welcome to take the middle of the night feeding, but for now, sit. You’re finally going to tell me what all this cloak and dagger shit is about.”

  We moved to the sofa. I sat next to him, his hand in mine. A simple gesture, but I suspected he hadn’t held hands with anyone since long before he beat a man to death for brutally attacking his drugged-out girlfriend. I may have played dumb with Hank, but I knew every detail of the State of Nevada versus Shawn Patrick MacKenzie.

  “My ex-husband is a bit stalky,” I said, staring down at our entwined hands.

  “A bit stalky?”

  “Psychotic. He showed up tonight at my condo, made some threats.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. “So who is he? Where does he live? Workplace?”

  I shook my head and pulled my hand away. “No! You cannot get involved in this.”

  “I’m good at what I do. Don’t worry, they’ll never find out.”

  “No, seriously, it’s far more complicated than that.”

  I felt a tremor run over me – it wasn’t just Hank. If it was that easy, my father would have gotten rid of him after the first bruise. No, Hank’s band of evil brothers ran deep. So deep they’d have Shawn doing life in state prison.

  “Not good enough.” His forehead leaned in to touch mine. It was happening slowly, but he was learning affection.

  “You’ve come a long way from recoiling at my touch a few weeks ago.”

  “Subject change, Tara.”

  “He has something on my brother, Tommy.”

  “Ah, blackmail. All the more reason for the ex to go.” His inked hand made a slashing gesture across his throat, and I knew he absolutely meant it.

  “There are others who would carry it out against my brother if the ex disappeared,” I explained, careful not to give Shawn any direct details about Hank. Thank God I never stopped using my maiden name.

  “No one threatens my…”

  He paused, clearly heavily weighing what exactly I was.

  “Your what?”

  “Um, you know.”

  “I don’t know. What am I to you? Because this feels like something.”

  “So this guy has power over your brother how?”

  “Subject change, Shawn.”

  I slid my hand across his powerful thigh.

  “Yeah, it’s something,” he admitted.

  “More than hot, wild, insane sex and some out-of-character cuddling?”

  With a deep exhale, he said, “Yes, more than that. But the last time I felt anything for anyone, someone died. To be fair, we sort of all died that day.”

  “No, Shawn, you’re not dead. You are right here, with Grace and with me. Love doesn’t have to hurt.”

  The second I said the giant L-word, we both panicked. Shooting off the couch, he said over his shoulder, “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes, um, I’ll get her.”

  There was no noise, and we both knew Grace was sound asleep.

  Deep in the night, we were both still awake.

  “Did you wake her up just to avoid that conversation?” I finally asked.

  “Did you say that word just to avoid answering me about the asshole who I’m going to kill?”

  “No, I meant it. We can let it rest for now, but I do. At least, I’m headed the way.”

  “Yeah, maybe I might be able to do that thing at some point, too.”

  “Romantic.”

  “I’m trying, Tara.”

  “I can take that,” I said, rolling into him.

  “Okay, that was a lie. The truth is, I’m trying really hard not to feel anything. But I think I’m failing yet again.”

  Eleven

  Oh It’ll Be Hard, But I’m Never A Bargain

  Mack

  “You’re a kinky little thing.”

  She slapped at me playfully. “No, you’ve just corrupted me.”

  “Sure I did, uh huh.”

  “Out loud and all that? You started it.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly found your voice.” I shot her a wink.

  “What should we do next…?”

  I gave her a flirty ass slap before pulling her on top of me. “I’m out of ideas.”

  “You are not!”

  “I never repeated before you – there was no need for endless creativity. I had a few moves, good enough.”

  “You’re full of it.” She leaned down to kiss me, but the knock on my door ruined it.

  “Go away or I’ll kill you!” I screamed.

  “You’ve already tried and failed, Bro.”

  Tara rolled off me and went to the door. “Skinny blond guy, he’s wearing an offensive “eat it raw” shirt. Should I call the police?”

  “Fuck, why now? Let him in.”

  She opened the door and he bounded in like Tigger on steroids.

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” He pointed to my bare chest.

  “What? Go home, Andy.”

  “No way, Bro. Tonight is dad’s night out, remember?”

  “That was a joke!”

  I looked over at Tara, but she simply shrugged. “I heard you agree to it.”

  “Thanks, babe.” I rolled my eyes.

  “When was the last time you hung out with the guys?”

  “Uh, never, thankfully.”

  The night before, Becky pulled out some rickety fire bowl. They all sat out there in lawn chairs drinking beer. Becky nagged me until I sat with them. Dad’s night out was a total joke.

  “C’mon, Mack, put a shirt on. Jake’s on his way over. We’ll call an Uber.”

  “Tara and I were totally right in the middle of a thing.”

  “What thing?” Andy asked, throwing up his hands.

  “A ridiculously creative sex act that’s taken me years to plan.”

  “Uh huh. Get a shirt on, we’re going.”

  “Fine. I swear this family thing is making me go fucking soft. But I’ll drive – have to make use of the old white man’s car outside.”

  I was bored stiff. We sat at some sports bar as Andy and Jake talked endlessly about sports. And then to make it worse, they sta
rt talking about sports that don’t even exist.

  “Wait, wait, no. That’s not a real team?”

  “It’s fantasy league. What planet do you live on?” Jake pointed to the piece of paper in front of them.

  “So actual existing sports aren’t enough, but then you go and invent teams? For fun?”

  “It’s fun, Bro. Seriously.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “You don’t follow any sports at all? Don’t you box?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah, but I don’t watch it. Unless it’s someone I’ve trained, I don’t give two shits.”

  “He just can’t be still long enough,” Andy said.

  And then, some chick tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Oh my god, it’s Shawn MacKenzie! The gangsta himself.”

  “Uh, um, don’t call me that.”

  “No, no, it’s fine – we’re friends. Oh and holy shit, that thing you did the other night.” She smacked me on the back. “Dirty. And that thumb business? You need to trademark that.”

  Andy was snickering, but Jake pointed the neck of his beer at her. “Who are you?”

  “Oh dear lawd, it’s Jake Tanner! This is like celeb night at Tommy Rocker’s for sure. Who knew?”

  I took a big slug of my water, glad she’d moved on from me. Thumb thing? I thought. Had I slept with her before? Nah, the thumb thing was new, just for Tara.

  “That Cassidy Lane is so gorgeous. Is she here?” Her curly mane of black hair looked around us, as if Cass might magically emerge from out of nowhere.

  “She’s out of town filming. Do we know each other?”

  “Of course we do! I know all of you.” She looked at Andy. “Well, not you. I like that shirt though.”

  Andy looked down and smiled. “Andy Rogers.” He stretched his hand out to her.

  She tapped me on the head, which no one dared do. “You’re not this one’s brother? You look alike?”

  We looked nothing alike.

  “Different fathers,” Andy explained.

  “Ain’t that the case all over. Men just fuck around and…” She froze and looked to me again. “I did not mean you, Shawn. No offense at all.”