by Brenda Novak
Rod would’ve been frustrated, except that he liked the Siddells so much. He liked returning to the motel every morning to climb into bed with India even more. Generally, she was up waiting for him, as if keeping that vigil somehow meant he’d return safe. They slept late, lounged by the pool, went out to eat, showered together, watched movies and made love more often than he’d ever made love with anyone else. Being together in a motel for so long felt as if they were on a honeymoon, except for when he had to head over to the Siddells’ at night.
There were moments Rod wished nothing would change. He cared about India that much. But there were also moments when he felt a great deal of pressure to fix the problem so he could go home. Guilt, for taking so many days off in a row and expecting his brothers to cover for him, bothered him, but he couldn’t go back to Whiskey Creek until this situation was resolved. Sebastian kept calling her and leaving messages, pleading with her to put the past behind them—never mind that he was still with his wife. India couldn’t even tell herself that he’d go on about his business and let her go on about hers.
“I have to see this through,” he told Dylan a week later, on Sunday afternoon, when he was sitting out by the pool. India wasn’t with him. She’d gone to the room to plug in her phone, since her battery was dead, and to get them another cold drink from the vending machine.
“Of course. We wouldn’t want you to do anything else,” his brother said.
Rod got up and moved his lawn chair so he wasn’t directly in the sun anymore. “But it’s been ten days, and I haven’t gotten anywhere.”
“You have a plan. That’s something. A lot hangs in the balance. You can’t simply waltz into Sebastian’s life and expect him to tell you where he put the gun.”
“No, it could take years to build up that much trust. That’s why I’m hoping that boy I told you about, Van, will tell me instead.”
“I’m hoping the same thing. We’re looking forward to getting you back. But we’re willing to sacrifice. Who else is going to help India if we don’t?”
Rod remembered a family meeting when he’d heard the same sentiment expressed about Natasha—and look at her now, getting good grades, graduating with honors, heading off to college. They’d made a difference in her life. If only they could help India, too. Supporting her in this way was definitely a joint effort, since his brothers were carrying his workload at home. “I’d like to see Natasha one last time before she goes.”
“She leaves tomorrow afternoon. You could come home and drive her to the airport, then return to the motel. She’s flying out of Oakland, and you’re free during the days, right?”
“I’ll do that. How’s Mack handling her leaving?”
“What do you mean?” Dylan asked. “He’s handling it just like the rest of us.”
Rod realized that Dylan really didn’t know what was going on with Mack and Natasha. “They’re closer in age,” he said, to cover for the question.
“He had a woman over not too long ago,” Dylan said.
“How’d you find that out?” Rod asked.
“Dad said something when the same woman stopped by the shop yesterday to bring Mack lunch.”
Maybe Dylan did know about Mack and Natasha, but he didn’t want to get into it any more than Rod did. In any case, Rod wasn’t going to ask him directly. “There’re plenty of women out there to keep him busy.”
“Exactly. Speaking of women, how are things between you and India?”
Rod wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He was feeling all kinds of things he’d never felt before, but she was still wearing her wedding ring, still keeping him separate from her daughter. “I like her.”
“How much?” Dylan said.
“A lot.”
“You two getting serious?”
Rod couldn’t tell how seriously she was taking the relationship—and he was hesitant to ask, in case she brought up Charlie or her daughter or her in-laws and ruined what they had right now. “She just lost her husband eleven months ago.”
There was a slight pause. “You’re not getting in over your head, are you?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I think I am.”
Silence.
“No advice?” Rod said with a laugh.
“I knew when it finally happened, you’d fall hard.”
Dylan had fallen hard, too—only, it had worked out for him. “Have you heard from Chief Bennett?”
“Yeah. Spoke to him on Friday.”
“And you didn’t mention it?”
“Why ruin your vacation?”
“What’s going on?”
“Liam’s pressing charges. Claims you used a baseball bat.”
Rod rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at the concrete. “Shit.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve already hired an attorney.”
“You hired an attorney? This is on me, Dyl.”
“No, it’s not. Who knows how much it’ll cost? The expenses could wipe you out. And it started because you were protecting Natasha. Together, we’ll have enough to fight him.”
“India said she heard Sharon tell him we have money. He’s looking for us to pay his medical bills.”
“He can go to hell. He started the fight. He could’ve killed you when he ran you off the road. You’re in a freakin’ cast. Far as I’m concerned, he should pay your medical bills. And that’s what the attorney thinks, too. So we’re countersuing. Maybe when Liam realizes he could wind up paying a bunch of attorneys’ fees as well as his medical expenses, and possibly even yours, he’ll think twice about taking the gamble.”
“Are you positive we shouldn’t just settle with him, pay up? As much as that galls me, I’m betting it’ll turn out to be cheaper than hiring an attorney.”
“I don’t care. We’re standing on principle here. We won’t let him get away with lying about you.”
Rod would feel equally determined, except he didn’t want his brothers to be hurt, financially or any other way. He’d do whatever he had to in order to protect them. “Then I’m paying for the whole thing.”
“Don’t get your checkbook out quite yet, little brother. We’ll see how this goes. With any luck, he’ll be paying us.”
At the clang of the gate surrounding the pool, Rod glanced up. India was back with their drinks. “Everything okay?” she asked, looking concerned.
His irritation had to be showing on his face. He made an effort to clear it. “Of course. Everything’s fine.” She didn’t seem convinced, so he added, “It’s nothing money won’t fix,” and told Dylan he’d talk to him later.
“Is Dylan upset that you’re still gone?” she asked when he’d disconnected. “Do you need to go back?”
“No, he’s supportive. Quit worrying. I’m not going anywhere.”
She sat on the chaise beside his. “I don’t want to cause you any problems.”
He almost asked if he’d ever be able to compete with her saintly husband. He understood how different he was from the kind of man Charlie had been. He wasn’t going to change the world. Wasn’t going to save any lives. Wasn’t going to take her to any swanky parties. He could only hope love would be enough, but he wouldn’t ask. He refused to put her under any more pressure, not with what she was already going through.
“You’re getting burned.” She pressed a finger into his arm.
“That’s why I moved out of the sun.”
“When we get back to Whiskey Creek, we’re going to look as if we’ve been sailing in the Caribbean.”
“You’re not,” he teased. “You’re as pale as ever.”
“Because I don’t tan,” she complained. “I only burn, which is why I always have to wear sunblock or cover up.”
He held his arm next to hers and chuckled at the difference, but he didn�
�t laugh for long. He sobered as those pretty blue eyes of hers caught his attention. She was looking at him so intently. Then she leaned in and gave him one of those honey-sweet kisses he loved so much.
Surely that meant something. Or would everything change when they went back to their normal lives?
25
That night Rod caught his first break when he followed Sebastian and his brother to the pool hall. Eddie rode in the passenger seat; Rod had seen him come and go over the past few days, and the Siddells had confirmed his identity. For this trip, Sheila and the kids were left behind.
When Rod walked into Solids and Stripes, he was glad he’d been there before—and that the man he’d played pool with was back, too. Dave remembered Rod and invited him to play, giving Rod a comfortable vantage point from which to observe Sebastian and wait for the right opportunity to initiate a conversation.
That opportunity didn’t come for quite some time. He was beginning to think it never would, but shortly before midnight, Eddie went to the bathroom, leaving Sebastian to rack the balls after their last game.
Rod sauntered over with a beer in one hand and a cue stick in the other. “Looking for some fresh competition?”
Supremely conscious of the fact that he’d spoken to Sebastian once before, when Sebastian had called India and she dropped the phone, Rod held his breath. He was poised to react quickly, but Sebastian didn’t seem to recognize his voice. He merely waved toward the restrooms. “I got my brother here.”
“So?” Rod said. “He can play the winner.”
Sebastian was only an inch or two shorter, had longish black hair and swarthy skin with arms almost entirely covered in tattoos. He also had evidence of acne from an earlier period in his life. But he was handsome in a rough sort of way. Rod could see why India might’ve been attracted to him. The women at the pool hall seemed to like him, too. Rod had seen him kiss one and feel up another without any apparent concern for the fact that he was married.
“Who are you?” Sebastian asked.
Rod had already decided he’d make the answer to that question easy and use his own first name. He figured he’d be a lot less likely to screw up that way. “Rod Cunningham. You?”
“Sebastian Young.” He removed the rack, leaving the billiard balls in a perfect triangle. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“I’m new in town, from San Jose, but I’ve been in to play pool once or twice.”
“Oh, yeah? What brings you to Hayward in the first place?”
“My job.”
“What’d you do?”
“I’m an auto body technician. My cousin owns a shop not far from here.” Rod tilted his beer toward him. “What about you?”
“Currently unemployed.”
“Okay. Now I know you and you know me.” He jerked his head toward the pool table. “We gonna play or what?”
Sebastian grinned. “We gonna put any money on it?”
“Why not?” Rod had no idea how good Sebastian was. He’d been careful not to watch him too closely. But the guy’s skill level didn’t really matter. Rod didn’t care if this cost him $100. He actually felt it might be smarter to lose, even if he had to do it on purpose. No doubt Sebastian would like him better—and that was the real goal.
Fortunately, Sebastian turned out to be a talented player, so it wasn’t difficult to make the loss look real. Rod wasn’t entirely sure he could beat him even if he was giving it his best, so the game looked and felt authentic.
Eddie had come out of the bathroom shortly after they started and stood by to watch. He smiled when his brother sank the eight ball and Rod slapped his money on the table. But Rod wasn’t willing to leave it at that. He didn’t have days and weeks to develop a relationship. He had to make this opportunity count, had to get close to Sebastian fast. As soon as Sebastian moved to pick up the money, Rod snatched it away. “Double or nothing?”
Sebastian exchanged a look with his brother, then nodded. “Why not? I don’t got to be anywhere else.”
Rod gave the second game his full effort and managed to win. He didn’t want to fork over $200 and have Sebastian be finished with him. He needed to get Sebastian to ask for a third game—a tiebreaker, so they’d have more time to interact—and it worked. After the twenty minutes it took to lose that last game, Sebastian was clapping him on the back and promising to buy him a shot.
They moved to the bar, where they told stories and drank. Rod couldn’t believe Sebastian didn’t find his interest a little strange. But most people were egocentric enough not to question the attention they received, and his ego was bigger than most. Before long, Rod didn’t have to say much. Sebastian did all the talking—to the point that Eddie lost interest and went to throw a few darts.
“What are you doing after this?” Rod asked.
Sebastian rocked back. “Hell if I know. Why? You lookin’ for a party?”
Rod grinned. “I wouldn’t be opposed to finding one.”
“You got any money left?”
“A few bucks.”
Sebastian leaned close and lowered his voice. “My brother might be able to score you a little crystal.”
Rod couldn’t say that he’d never taken drugs. He’d dabbled here and there when he was younger, mostly with prescription drugs passed around by kids at school, but not after Dylan caught him smoking a joint when he was eighteen. He hadn’t touched anything other than alcohol since, but he knew that acting interested in getting high would be the quickest way to score an invitation to Sebastian’s house. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”
Sebastian let out a whoop. “I like you, man,” he said. Then he called his brother over and whispered in his ear.
Eddie, however, wasn’t quite as willing to embrace the idea. “We don’t even know this dude,” he said, and he didn’t bother to whisper. Rod suspected Eddie wanted to be overheard, wanted to watch his reaction. “He could be a cop.”
Sebastian already had a buzz going. Rod could tell he was feeling pretty damn good. “Rod’s not a cop,” he said. “I can smell a cop from a mile away.”
“I’m not a cop,” Rod confirmed.
“Thing is...we’ve never seen you before, so how would we know that?”
“Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t been in. Ask Dave over there. I played pool with him the other night.”
Dave happened to catch Rod pointing. He looked a little perplexed, then smiled and nodded when Rod waved.
“See?” Sebastian said. “He knows Dave.”
“Go on over and ask,” Rod insisted.
Eddie acted as if he might do that, but then his face cleared and he shrugged. “I guess a recommendation from Dave is good enough for me. I gotta make money somehow. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
* * *
Nights seemed to drag on forever. India missed her potter’s wheel, wished for a better way to distract herself from the anxiety she felt than watching TV. But without Rod, there wasn’t a lot to do in a motel room. He always said she should sleep, that she didn’t have to wait up, but she was too worried to go to bed without him. She wanted to be alert and near her phone in case he tried to call or text for help.
She scrolled through her pictures, looking at the ones she’d taken over the past ten days. Rod wasn’t much for posing. But she’d gotten a few really good shots of him, in which she’d captured his sexy smile or the personality that showed in his eyes. He was funny and gorgeous and strong—and sweet and tender, too. So what if he and Charlie were different? Did they have to be the same? Was she doing her husband a disservice by picking someone completely opposite to him?
“What am I doing?” she asked aloud. She wished she could talk to Charlie, discuss the terrible conflict inside her and the guilt that was holding her back where Rod wa
s concerned. She also wished she could discuss the fear that welled up every now and then. She didn’t want to be hurt again. She’d been through too much, and it was all too recent. Charlie had always been a stabilizing influence. She could trust his judgment. But Charlie was gone.
She flipped through more pictures. Was it really only two years ago that they’d been in Scotland, touring the castles? She’d suggested they go to Mexico, had wanted to lie on a warm beach. But Charlie had been too worried about the danger, what with the drug cartels and the police corruption. He’d said he wouldn’t risk his family.
Who knew that he wouldn’t live much longer than another year in spite of playing it so safe?
It was all because of Sebastian. And here she was, making Sebastian the center of her life, to the point that she was currently living out of a motel. Was she foolish to be doing this? Would she only get Rod hurt, too?
She’d tried to talk him into going home and leaving the sleuthing to her. He wouldn’t hear of it. She supposed that was one thing he and Charlie had in common. They were both driven, both stubborn. She’d begun to trust Rod, to depend on him. But she was also finally starting to get along with her in-laws again. What would they say if they learned she was seeing another man? Did she dare tell them? How long could she hide it?
She was just trying to think of a way she might be able to break the news when she received a text from Rod.
Met up with Sebastian at the pool hall. Following him to his place.
Her heart lurched into her throat, and she climbed off the bed. It was happening. Tonight. What they’d been trying to achieve.
Was it a mistake?
Are you sure you should be doing this?
Two hours passed.
He never answered.
* * *
Rod hadn’t intended to get high. He hadn’t had any choice. He soon found himself sitting in the living room with Eddie, Sheila and Sebastian, and knew instantly that he’d give himself away if he offered a last-second excuse. He could say he’d just received a text, that a problem had come up at home and he had to leave, but if he did that, if he bailed out, he’d probably never get another invitation.