Sweeter Than Sin

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Sweeter Than Sin Page 19

by Shiloh Walker


  She didn’t leave a note, just took the key to Adam’s side door and set off.

  The old man was going to tell her what she needed to know.

  He had to know.

  He knew every damn thing that happened in this town.

  He didn’t know about the club.…

  She swallowed the nausea roiling in her gut and pushed that thought off to the side. No. He hadn’t known about that.

  But he did now.

  Too many people knew now and they weren’t going to be able to brush it under the rug.

  There wasn’t going to be another kid like David who went to the police desperate for help and instead of getting help, he was beaten, threatened, brutalized even more.

  Fury locked her jaw and tightened her muscles.

  David got away, she told herself.

  It was the one thing that had kept her sane. That scared, skinny kid with bruises and scars and a broken soul had managed to get away. That was the one thing she knew to be true.

  Now she just had to find him.

  * * *

  If he was smart, he would have acted on this man first.

  William T. Merchant had been a deputy sheriff before he retired and he’d done a stint in the army.

  But that didn’t necessarily mean much, not to his way of thinking. All of that should have meant Willie T. would be a good, honorable man.

  Not a child molester, a brutal, ruthless predator.

  But things were what they were. He’d done his own time in the army, and he knew you could find honorable men standing side by side with abusers, thieves and killers.

  He would probably be considered an honorable man by many. He was also a liar and a killer. A person could wear many masks.

  Willie T. was proof of that. Deputy. Soldier. Protector. Rapist.

  The mask was coming off tonight. Even if they both died over this, it was a price he was willing to pay. He just hoped those who loved him would understand why he’d done the things he’d done.

  He had known it wouldn’t be easy to get inside Willie T.’s house, although when the opportunity presented itself, it had been almost miraculously easy. It had proven to be harder for him to get away from his own. The mid-day was never easy and he had to figure out a way that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Sooner or later he would be caught, and he was well aware of that fact. He just wanted to settle as much as he could before it happened.

  The way he saw it, he was taking out the men who would either stand a better chance at making a jury believe their lies or find some other way to evade prosecution.

  He could see Willie T. taking the same road that Jeb had taken.

  It was too easy.

  Willie T. needed to look somebody in the eyes and know that he had been seen for what he was.

  Then he could die and rot in hell.

  It had been a godsend, really, the way Shannon Kirchner had left her key ring at the house. Shannon cleaned houses for a living and she was as reliable as the day was long, but that one day her youngest had ended up sick—the day care suspected chicken pox. Shannon shared custody with her ex-husband, and her ex couldn’t pick the kids up. His new wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer and the chemo made it too easy for to pick up anything and everything. Chicken pox was a big no on that front, so Shannon had been scrambling to get things covered … and the keys had just been … forgotten.

  She’d called the next day and he would feel guilty, later, lying to her as he’d done.

  But he’d seen the neatly labeled keys and he’d seen keys for not just one but two of the men he needed to deal with.

  Really, it was too easy.

  So he’d go after Willie T. now, before the man got it in his head to be any more careful.

  He’d already be putting two and two together after Troyer and Quimby. He couldn’t have Willie T. shutting himself away.

  Killing a former officer of the law wasn’t going to be the easiest thing as it was.

  Fortunately, Willie T. lived outside of town.

  Another thing that played in his favor … a number of the cops and deputies in town were rather careful about their security, even in a town as small as Madison. They had dogs or security systems. But Willie T. didn’t like dogs and he was notoriously tightfisted. Too tightfisted to pay for a security system, a fact that was going to make this much easier.

  He even recalled the discussion where Willie T. had lit into Brad Collins, one of the small-business owners in Madison—he had a satellite office or a franchise, whatever they called it. Basically, he operated his own business, selling security systems for a larger nationwide company, and Willie T. had called him a thief when he heard how much the service had cost. Brad and Willie T. had words about that, right in the coffee shop, just a year or two ago.

  Willie T. seemed to think his being a former deputy would keep people from breaking into his home.

  And for the most part, that was probably a fair assumption.

  But he wasn’t there to steal anything.

  This was all about justice.

  He chose his place carefully, making his way up the stairs and groaning as his knee popped. He’d only have one shot at this, and if he failed he was likely going to die.

  Willie T. was a crack shot and he had been sighted carrying a gun about town more than once.

  So he was just going to have to make sure he got the first round off.

  He wasn’t a bad shot himself.

  And if it left him feeling unsettled about what he was getting ready to do, then he’d just think about all the names he’d read in that journal of Harlan’s. All the names … all the boys. The pictures he hadn’t quite gotten around to burning.

  How far back did it go? he wondered.

  He had no idea.

  But he knew one thing.

  He was going to do everything in his power to make sure it stopped.

  This time, for good.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  He wasn’t there.

  Lana paced, skirting the edge of the property, knowing if she stayed much longer she was going to be seen.

  The car parked in the drive didn’t belong to him and she couldn’t risk going down there if she didn’t know for certain he was there—

  A footstep scuffed behind her and she turned, slowly, uncertain of just whom she might see.

  Then, as though twenty years had melted away, she felt something warm and sweet shift through her. For just a moment, she was a kid again—sixteen and desperately in love.

  Noah Benningfield stood there, looking at her, his blue eyes searching her face.

  “Hi.”

  He looked down at the ground, a sigh shuddering out of him. Silence, heavy and weighted, stretched out between them and she fought the urge to go to him. But that wasn’t her right anymore. She’d lost that.

  Then he lifted his head and she found herself not seeing the boy he’d been but the man he’d become.

  A tired smile slanted his lips and he shook his head. “You’ve got no idea how many times I thought about seeing you again. Just one more time. And now here you are and I have no idea what to say to you.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said quietly. She glanced behind her, checked around and then eased deeper into the trees. “I … ah. Well. I hear you’re getting married.”

  He nodded and the smile on his face changed. He changed. The smile, the absolute love he felt, lit him up. Something that might have been jealousy tried to bloom inside, but she smothered it before it could take root. He’d earned that happiness, had fought and paid dearly for it. “Yeah. This Saturday.” He grimaced and added, “I’d invite you, but…”

  “That would be awkward,” she said.

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s not that. Trinity would like to meet you. It’s just—well, Adam says you’re keeping a low profile.”

  “Ahhh…” She nodded and turned away, wrapping her arms around her middle, prepared for the questions, tried to think up the right answers.
She’d never been able to lie to Noah. He saw right through it, each and every time. “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  And that was it. She held her breath, waiting for something more, but it never came. After a full minute passed, she turned her head and stared at him. “Okay?” she echoed. “How can you just say okay?”

  He laughed and leaned back against one of the trees at his back, an ancient oak that towered up into the sky. Around them, the various trees made a very effective curtain. Pine needles cushioned the ground while their scent flooded the air. Not too far away Noah and Lana could hear the rush of traffic, but in this spot here, it was like they were the only two who existed. “If you’re not ready to talk, Lana, you’re not going to talk,” he said, turning his head to look at her. “You were like that twenty years ago. I don’t figure that’s changed. Now if you need to talk … I’ll listen and whatever you have to say is safe with me. But I’m not going to demand answers. It won’t work anyway.”

  “If anybody has a right to demand answers, it’s you,” she said, swallowing the knot in her throat.

  “No.” He blew out a breath and pushed off the tree. “Maybe if I’d kept waiting, kept hoping? But some part of me stopped waiting … some part of me gave up hope a long time ago.”

  And with those words, some part of her died. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  They both knew she was apologizing for more than she could possibly put into words.

  “Don’t.” He closed the distance between them and lifted a hand, tipped her chin up with his finger. “I waited. For a very long time. And all the while, I did my damnedest to kill myself. Eventually, I stopped waiting, and I stopped trying to kill myself. But the life I’ve got now…” Some echo of that smile he’d worn when he spoke of his soon-to-be-wife appeared and his eyes all but burned with that love. “I don’t want to change anything that put me on this path. Every step we take, it’s for a reason. All my steps led me to her.”

  “She must be something special,” Lana said.

  “She is.” Noah pressed his lips to Lana’s forehead. “But then again, so are you. I don’t know what I did to have two amazing women in my life.”

  “Shit, Noah.” She pulled back and turned away as the ache inside her spread. “I had you for a couple of years and then I disappeared. I don’t think you can call me that amazing.”

  “I was the one you amazed, so yeah, I get to call you that.”

  A truck appeared at the end of the road, just barely visible through the webwork of pine branches. Her heart jumped and she fought to keep her voice level. “Well, whatever you say. I’m happy for you, Noah.”

  “Thanks.”

  If she hoped he wouldn’t notice her interest in the truck, she was very much mistaken, and she tore her gaze away before he decided to ask. Backing away, she gave him an easy smile. “It was … interesting,” she decided. “Take care of yourself.”

  He arched a brow. “When you need me, let me know.”

  Then he turned and disappeared into the trees.

  When you need me …

  Somehow she suspected that time would come.

  Sighing, she looked back toward the house and then started to trail after Noah. She’d have to come back later.

  * * *

  The little park across from the cemetery was a good place for people watching.

  Layla wasn’t particularly in the mood for people watching, but she was in the mood to find somebody to either give her some money or let her crash with them for a while. She did have a particular man in mind.… He was older than she usually went for, but he kept himself in shape, plus he played rough.

  That was the only way to play, in her mind.

  Plus, once he went out for the night, he went out. That left her alone to do whatever in the hell she wanted, including lazing out in the hot tub and getting stoned if she wanted.

  The former deputy liked to relax at nights in that hot tub, with a little bit of weed, a nice cold beer. That wasn’t a bad way to spend a night, in her mind.

  But so far, he hadn’t shown his face in town.

  If Willie T. didn’t show up soon, she just might hunt him down.

  He might try to push her out, but all she’d have to do was go down on him and that would be that.

  He was a typical man—his brain was always in his dick, and she knew how to handle him.

  He was probably her best bet for finding a place to crash for a few days, too. She hadn’t been able to make her rent, and yesterday she’d been thrown out on her ass. The landlord had agreed to store her stuff—because he didn’t want his wife knowing that he’d taken sex in exchange for rent more than a few times. Layla had tried to barter that again, but Bo wasn’t going for it. He’d outright told her that she could either pay him or just tell Betty about the months when she’d given him a quickie in exchange for a cut on the rent, and the look in his eyes said he hadn’t been joking.

  Since she might need the reference from him at some point, she didn’t see the point.

  If he wasn’t going to back down, he wasn’t going to back down.

  She was good at reading things like that.

  Last night, she’d used her key at the house and slept on the couch for four hours, leaving before Sybil woke up, before the kid could find her there.

  She was still tired, cranky, and she needed a hit bad.

  But she had to figure out where she was going first.

  If she could stand the fucking idea of it, she knew she’d have a bed at her old place. Technically, it was her house, too. Mama had left the house to Sybil and Layla, but Layla hated that place. Every damn room was a reminder of what a failure she was. Especially compared to Sybil. Perfect, confident Sybil.

  Maybe Mama had never pointed that out and Sybil didn’t have to, but they all knew it.

  No, going back home to the place where Saint Sybil lived wasn’t an option. Layla couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her sister every day. She could barely tolerate seeing Sybil on the rare occasion when they ran into each other in town.

  And besides … if Layla was there, she’d have to see Drew.

  Sighing, she dug out her cigarette and lighter. Drew, that kid. She loved her boy, but he had a way of looking at her with those big blue eyes that just outright told her how much she disappointed him. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know how to be a mom. Sybil was so much better at it anyway—

  “Well, hello, there.…” Layla’s attention zoomed in on the man striding up the street. A few dozen yards behind him she saw a woman—the woman Layla didn’t know, but the man? Oh, yes. Knew him. Alternately hated and wanted him. Mostly, he just pissed her off, but lately she wanted him like crazy, and it wasn’t just because he acted like he wasn’t interested. That was bullshit. Noah wanted her. He’d always wanted her; he just tried to hide it.

  And right now, he was moving like his ass was on fire.

  Smashing her cigarette out on the bench, Layla slid off the bench and moved to cut him off.

  He checked himself right before they would have collided, and she sulked privately, just a little. That body of his had just gotten so much better over the years, and part of her yearned to see what he’d be like if he let all that hunger out. He had laced himself up all nice and proper, and she knew that on the inside Noah was anything but nice and proper.

  Smiling at him, she reached out to stroke a finger down the front of his shirt. He sidestepped before she made contact. Poking out her lip, she said, “Now, Noah … you act like you don’t want to see me. You aren’t still mad at me, are you?”

  “I don’t much see the point in being mad at you, Layla.” And his blue eyes met hers levelly.

  He seemed to mean it. Oh, that made this easier, then. Taking a step closer, she went to rest a hand on his arm, but again, he didn’t let her touch him. Damn it, this was like dancing with a cat. “Well, if you aren’t mad, how come you’re acting like I’m contagious?”

  “Layla.” He said her name in a low, quie
t voice and leaned in just close enough for her to feel the heat of him.

  It made everything inside her clench up, tight and hungry. Very few of the men she’d been with had ever made her feel like Noah had. He’d fucked like he had demons inside him and only fucking would get them out. “Yes, sugar?” she murmured. “What can I do for you, Noah? You know I’m up for just about … anything.”

  “You can stay away from me, okay? I’m getting married in a few days. I’m in love with my fiancée … and you’re nothing but trouble. We both know it. So just … stay away.”

  She jerked back, glaring at him. “Nothing but trouble?”

  Somebody brushed by them.

  That woman.

  Her gaze, shielded by overly large sunglasses, lingered on Noah for a long moment and then moved to Layla. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  Layla went to snap at her, but then she stopped, looking at the brunette. Her voice … Scowling, Layla stared hard at the woman, trying to place her.

  Noah gave her a polite smile. “Everything is fine, ma’am.”

  The woman nodded and headed on down the street.

  “It’s not fine,” Layla said, raising her voice.

  The woman just kept on walking.

  “You honestly think Holly Homemaker can give you what you need?” Layla demanded, thinking of the slick, sexy blonde from New York who was going to marry Noah in a few days. “Seriously? She doesn’t even know you.”

  “She does.” Then he shook his head. “But this isn’t about her. Or even me. It’s about the fact that you can’t stand me turning you down.” His gaze lingered on her face, his expression sad. “Layla … you deserve better than this. Find a way to be happy with yourself. You’re never going to do that by just chasing after every guy you think can give you a good time in bed.”

  He brushed past her and headed on down the street.

  She whirled around and glared at his retreating back.

  “Yeah? Like you would know shit about giving a woman a good time in bed, you uptight prick!”

  The back of his neck went red.

  But there was no other response and a moment later he disappeared around the corner.

  * * *

  “Why isn’t Mr. Noah here?”

 

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