SNAP (The SNAP Trilogy Book 1)

by Dawn, Tara

  "So you've already went ahead with this plan before talking to us about it? Go figure. You have two weeks. That's it. Gain her trust, figure out what she knows. We'll take Phil down and then keep as far away from that town as we can for a while. Okay, Casanova?" he says sarcastically.

  I laugh at him and his tired face cracks a smile. I gather my stuff and slip my card back into my phone. "I'm going to sleep on the pull out sofa in my office. Come get me if Joseph figures anything out."

  Dale nods and goes into the lab as I head toward the exit that leads to my office. I drop my bag inside my personal bathroom and strip down to my boxers. I lower the shades and lock the door all while thinking about what Dale said about Gavin and trying to piece everything together in my mind. I pull the bed from the sofa and grab my pillow from the closet. Laying down, I stare at the ceiling attempting to slow my brain down so I can get some sleep. My phone beeps from my desk and I reach for it wondering if Joseph found what he was looking for. A smile crosses my face at the text on my screen.

  Hazel: You're Welcome.

  Hazel

  The weekend seemed to go by fast and slow at the same time. According to sales we were just as busy, but it seemed to go much smoother with Cady waiting tables. Roger actually called me this morning while going over the numbers and said we pulled in more than last weekend. He was excited, but still cautious, letting me know that if anything Cady will remain on board with us. Now I have to prove to him that hiring the other two people are worth it. Out of the interviews done on Thursday, I selected one person who starts today. Jimmy will be training him this week. He has previous kitchen experience, so hopefully he learns fast and I can get him on the schedule to give those guys a break. My only concern is that Jimmy is clean while he's training. He was agitated all weekend and asked to take more breaks than he usually took. I don't want the new guy thinking it's okay to be high at work. I'm trying to give Jimmy the benefit of the doubt, but I know I'll have to sit down with him and give him a warning. Telling Roger at this point is out of the question. If he knew, he'd fire Jimmy immediately. People deserve a warning and a chance to get their shit together.

  I expected to see Cash saunter in and sit at the bar while I worked, but he didn't show his face all weekend. When Cady and I left Friday night, I had a voicemail on my phone. When I listened to it, I realized I hadn't hung up when I called my phone from his. I could hear myself faintly saying goodbye to him in the background before his sexy, humor filled voice came through making my skin cover in goose flesh. "Thank you," was all he said before the message ended. I listened to it several times before sending him a text. I haven't heard from him since, and I wonder if he's left town and will be back.

  Looking around my apartment that's in disarray, I wonder if Cash will call today to plan a date and if he will want to pick me up here. My lip rises in disgust as I stare at the dirty kitchen, my floor that hasn't been vacuumed in a month and the piles of mail and crap laying where it was tossed. It's early yet, so if I get up and start working now, I could have this place clean in, oh, a year maybe. I growl to myself as I get up off the couch and walk to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to grab a soda, a pungent odor hits my nose that almost knocks me out. The door slam shuts as I lean against it clamping my hand over my nose and mouth trying to keep the vomit from rising up my throat. I've allowed this place to become a dump while hiding behind my locked door and wallowing in self-contempt.

  I spend a little bit tidying up, doing dishes, and cleaning the floors. Hopefully whatever was in the fridge rotting is now out in the garbage. Lighting a cigarette, I check my phone to see two hours have passed and I can't even tell I put a dent in this place. I kick my feet up and turn on the TV to pass the time.

  As I flip through the channels, something catches my attention on the news and I quickly go back. A picture of a white pill is displayed on the screen with the words 'New Drug On The Streets' across it. I pull my feet from the table and lean forward resting my elbows on my knees listening intently.

  "A Swanson man died last night due to an apparent overdose. The hospital nor police would release any information on the man, but the Police Chief had this to say at a press conference this morning."

  An older man in a police uniform comes on the screen. Standing at the podium, he looks tired, confused, and angry. "We have no details as of yet where this drug originated. It has just recently been brought to our attention. Three others have been brought to the hospital after becoming sick from it. We are working hard right now to discover what it is and who is selling it so we can put a stop to it. Thank you."

  The anchorman comes back on screen and moves onto the next segment. I sit back wondering what drug they could be talking about, but I know in my gut exactly what it is. Dustin snapping the white pill on the table flashes in my mind. Living in a small town, there's not much to do except party. With drugs traveling through here daily from the coast, we are one of the first areas to learn of new ones. This one hasn't been around long, and if this report was about Snap, it won't be around much longer, especially if it's killing people right out of the gate.

  My door begins to rattle making me flinch. I stare at it as I watch the doorknob attempt to turn. Sneaking over to it, I peer through the peephole to see who it is just as a fist pounds on the door making me jump. I cover my mouth trying to hold back a scream.

  "Hazel, I know you're in there. Open the door."

  I peek through the peephole again and see Phil dead staring the door. His lip pulls back in a sneer and then he punches the door. The loud boom makes my heart titter faster in my chest and my breaths turn into pants. The doorknob shakes as he tries to turn it and he begins banging on the door again.

  "Open the goddamn door! Do not make me break it down," he growls from the other side.

  I have never been so afraid in my life. The night he grabbed me at the bar wasn't this scary. Fear causes my feet to shuffle backwards as I look around the apartment. My phone catches my eye and I glance back at the door before snagging it from the couch and running to the hallway.

  "I can see you through your curtains, Hazel," he yells through the door.

  I lean against the wall, well out of sight of any window, wondering if my neighbors are watching and if they will call the cops. They can't get involved. Not now that I know he's selling drugs. His father is an advocate for a drug free community. I could see him blaming all this on me. Mr. Jenkins never liked me. The way his eyes leered at me like I was nothing but a piece of white trash after his son's money never went unnoticed.

  "Open the door, baby," he says a little more quietly. "I'm sorry. Just let me talk to you."

  Phil has lost his ever lovin' mind if he thinks that shit is going to work on me. Someone must be watching for him to change his tune. I silently pray that whoever saw him goes about their merry way.

  My phone rings and I hurry to silence it looking at the screen.

  "Hello." My voice comes out as a shaky whisper.

  "Hazel?" Cash asks concerned.

  "I can't really talk right now." The words hitch in my throat as Phil pounds on the door again screaming once more.

  "Where are you?" Cash's once soft voice turns hard and icy.

  "I'm at home," I whisper as something hard crashes against my door making me scream.

  "I hear you, you fucking whore!"

  I lean around the corner and can see his shadow walking by the window.

  "Where is home, Hazel?" Cash yells into the phone.

  "Oh God, he's gonna try to come through the window," I whimper as tears start to cloud my vision.

  "Hazel, focus. Where is home?" Cash yells again.

  I rattle my address off to him as I frantically search for Phil from my hiding spot. I can hear one of the windows in my bedroom begin to rattle.

  "Go into a room with no windows and lock the door. Be there in a minute, I'm right down the street."

  There's a click on the line and I swear my heart stops.

  "Cash?"
I look at my phone to see he ended the call.

  I go into the bathroom and close the door locking it. Leaving the lights off, I sit in the darkness surrounded by an eerie silence. A million scenarios of Phil breaking down this door to get to me run through my mind. My blood runs cold imagining what is happening outside the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, I put my ear to the door, but all I hear is the muffled sounds of the TV. With a shaky hand, I turn the knob and pull it ajar listening before stepping out.

  "Hazel?" Cash knocks on the front door gently.

  "Cash?" I yell from the hallway.

  "It's me." His voice is reassuring, but twinged with anger.

  I run to the door and undo the deadbolt and chain. Flinging it open, I notice the dents in my door and the damage done to the frame. Tears fill my eyes as I think what Phil would've done to me had he gotten in here. My hands cover my face as I take a deep, shuttering breath.

  Cash grabs my shoulders pushing me back into my apartment and closes the door locking it. His arms wrap around my shoulders making me flinch at first before burying my face against his chest. I can't look at him right now.

  "Shhh," he whispers as he rubs my back. "He's gone."

  "Did you see him?" I choke out, gripping is shirt in my fists.

  Cash pulls me tighter against him. "He ran to the alley as I pulled up. When I made it around the side of your apartment he was already gone."

  My head moves in a slight nod, rubbing against chest. We stand there for a moment as my tears stop and my breathing returns to normal. He pulls back and his hands cup my shoulders as he looks down at me. Sympathy and compassion rests in the depths of his eyes. It's comforting, but I can't stand to have him stare upon me like that.

  Turning my head, I walk to the kitchen and grab a napkin from the table. I clean my face up and stand there for a minute keeping my back to Cash trying to let everything register in my mind. Phil beating on my door screaming obscenities, trying to break into my apartment, Cash calling at the right moment. Cash saving me once again. He must think my life is a total mess. I look down at my raggedy stained up pajamas and roll my eyes. Of course he had to see me like this. A sigh escapes me knowing that no one wants to get tangled up with someone who has a psycho stalker and looks like a homeless woman most of the time.

  My breath sucks in as the truth finally hits me. Phil is stalking me. My hands curl around the chair back in front of me as I wonder how many times he's been near and not tried to attack me. Has he hidden from view and just watched me? It would make sense with how many times we bumped into each other at places he never goes. I've always made sure to patron businesses I knew he never went to so I wouldn't have a chance meeting. What does he want with me?

  "Hey," Cash whispers from behind, startling me. "Come sit down and relax."

  He grips my shoulders ushering me to the couch. I sit down and he sits next to me. Grabbing my cigarettes, he lights me one and hands it to me. The disbelief on my face makes him half grunt, half chuckle.

  "I may not like it, but it looks like you need one. I used to smoke years ago, but I kicked the habit." He smiles putting me a little more at ease. Facing straight ahead, I try to control the tremors in my hand as I take a puff then blow the smoke away from him. Out of the corner of my eye I see him watching me, determining where to go from here. I take a couple more hits off my smoke before stubbing it in the ashtray to finish later.

  I tuck my hair behind my ear and take a breath. "I'm sorry you've gotten sucked into this. Thank you for helping me." I turn my head to him as he bumps my knee with his, a small smile plays at his lips. I return it, but don't really feel it.

  "Tell me what happened," he says as he holds eye contact with me.

  "Um," I start, licking my dry lips. "I was taking a break from cleaning."

  His brows shoot up before he looks around.

  "Don't judge." I'm already on edge and it comes out sharper than intended. The smirk dissipates from his face as he stares at me. "I work long shifts and sometimes don't get a day off for weeks."

  "Sorry," he mumbles and motions for me to continue.

  "I was taking a break from cleaning, in case you came over because I didn't want you to see what a mess my apartment normally is." His eyes glitter, but he keeps a straight face. Getting flustered, I continue, "I think he was trying to get my door unlocked because at first that was the only thing jiggling. Then he started pounding on the door and screaming. When I still wouldn't answer he tried to play sweet and innocent, apologizing, coaxing me to answer the door. That's when you called and he lost his shit and went around the house." My eyes go wide remembering I haven't checked the window in my bedroom. "Shit!"

  I jump off the couch and run toward my bedroom.

  "What?" Cash yells, following me.

  I turn and put my hand up halting him. He rears back and his brows pull together.

  "You can't come in here," I say firmly, making him laugh. "I'm serious, Cash!"

  "I have seen the inside of women's bedrooms before, Hazel," he states, teasing me.

  Heat flushes my face in embarrassment, and if I'm being honest with myself, a little bit of jealousy for every woman whose bedroom he's willingly entered. With his looks, I'm sure he's been lured into a few as well. That thought just makes it worse.

  "Just stay back there." I point to the entrance of the hallway. "And do not come in unless I'm screaming bloody murder."

  Cash raises his hands in surrender and gives me that smile I've been waiting a week to see as he slowly backs up. His shirt slips up here and there as he moves flashing slivers of his stomach. My eyes travel to the dusting of hair trailing into his pants. His hands dropping to his sides pulls my attention back to his face. He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall looking as innocent as he can. I feel like a high school girl checking to see if her parents are home so she can do bad things with her boyfriend.

  I shake my head and hear him chuckle as I open the bedroom door and peek in. No sign of Phil. I open the door enough to squeeze in and close it behind me. My room is a war zone. Clothes cover the floor in a lumpy layer with who knows what underneath them. My dresser, that has a mountain piled on top, has all the drawers open and clothes hanging out. An avalanche of shoes, purses, and crap is pouring out of the closet, and my bed looks like a wrestling match took place in it. All of it bad reminders of how I've been working through my madness. Making my way over to the windows as carefully as possible, I pull back the curtain to see my screen ripped and a circular mark in the corner of the glass like he tried to break it.

  "That motherfucker," I growl. Slinging the curtain back into place, I turn to see Cash standing in the doorway looking around my room in shock.

  "Jesus," he mumbles. The concern on his face when he looks at me has my face turning beat red. "What was he looking for?"

  "I would say nothing since he never made it inside." I pull back the curtain pointing to the chip in the glass and the ripped screen, "But he sure tried to get in here."

  Cash's mouth opens and closes like a fish. He's working it all out in his head and looks around not knowing what to say.

  "Out," I say, moving over to him, wobbling and losing my balance on the shit under the clothes. I push him out the bedroom door and close it. Walking toward the living room, I leave him standing there staring at me like I'm an alien.

  Sitting down on the couch, I light the cigarette in the ashtray and nervously puff on it. I hear Cash open my bedroom door again.

  "Cash!" The door thumps closed and he's standing in the doorway in an instant with his hands on his hips and chest rising and falling in silent laughter.

  I turn my head and take a hit off my smoke. The couch dips next to me as he sits and leans back against it.

  "You put frat boys to shame." His chuckles turn to full blown laughter when I turn and smack his stomach with the back of my hand. It feels like I slapped a wall. The heat in my face burns like hell fire.

  "Awe, Hazel." I turn away fro
m him and he wraps his arms around my shoulders pulling me against him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed at you," he says into my ear. I can hear the smile in his voice and feel his breath against my neck. "What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?"

  I turn my head slightly and glance into his eyes. His gaze is heating and it looks like melting chocolate. I clear my throat before turning my head back and responding. "Seven in the morning."

  "Call Cady and have her come over. We can all hang out here tonight and make sure Phil doesn't come back."

  Shocked, I turn to face him and his arms drop from around me. "You still want to hang out?"

  He searches my face confused. "Why do you ask that?"

  "I wouldn't want to, knowing some crazy ass is hanging around and after seeing my bedroom."

  He leans forward and starts pulling my hair apart at the scalp and smelling me.

  I frown at him and pull away. "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Well, you smell clean and you don't have bugs in your hair." He smiles as I laugh at him then gets serious again. "That motherfucker can kiss my ass. Cleaning is definitely not your forte," he says leaning toward me, "but I didn't ask you out because I desired your cleaning skills."

  I lick my lips nervously and try to keep the blush from my cheeks. He winks at me making my stomach roll harder than I've ever felt before. To be honest, I don't think I've ever gotten this excited over a man before. It's almost nauseating getting this worked up and I don't like it. The best I can compare it to is being on a roller coaster while interviewing for a huge job, after splitting your pants in front of them, and having caffeine overload. Nervous, jittery, and embarrassed about everything. It's a shitty concoction. I don't know if it's the mysterious air that surrounds Cash that has tweaked my reaction to him, or if it's those dark eyes that get more intense every time we meet, staring into mine like he's trying unlock my deepest darkest secrets. Whatever it is, it's enough for me to keep my guard up around him.