by Jayne Rylon
James walked Mark out to one of the staff counselors and waved goodbye before heading back to Ms. Rodriguez’s office. His gut said their paths would cross again. Just not here.
Ms. Rodriguez reclined in her chair, her hands laced over her softly rounded stomach. “I saw the way Mark was looking at you and chatting so freely when you walked past. I’ve never seen that boy smile before and when I peeked in after you’d been in there less than an hour he was outright laughing at whatever you two were up to. Been here one day and you’ve already saved somebody. Thank you.”
James laughed and held his hands up. “I don’t know about all of that, but Mark is great and I’m glad I got to meet him. He taught me a thing or two. Reminded me what’s important, you know?”
“I have no idea how Tom manages to find all of you, but…you’re just like the rest of his gang, you know that?”
James couldn’t have been more complimented. “Thanks. Eli, the Hot Rods, and the Hot Rides are incredible people. They’ve been through so much and are stronger for it. It’s really inspiring.”
She nodded. “So, Tom was right as always. He told me you’d fit right in here and after this afternoon, I believe him. Not that I didn’t before, but I like to see things for myself when it comes to the kids here. They’ve been let down enough by life as it is. Anyway, we have an open counselor position. You in?”
“Oh, wow. I don’t think I’m qualified for that. Don’t you need a degree or a certification at least?”
“Ah, it’s not that kind of counselor. Think camp counselor, not psychologist.”
“Oh, right. Well, thank you for even considering me. I’m glad I was here today, but no. I’m not ready for this.” James realized his history wouldn’t work to his or the kids’ benefit at the center. “I went through some things in my past—not the bullying and stuff—that I need to work through before I think I could be unbiased enough to work here.”
He cleared his throat. Ms. Rodriguez simply waited patiently. Though he didn’t mean to spill his guts, she had perfected her tell-me-everything gaze.
“I was seven when my sister disappeared. The police say she ran away from home.” Why had he said it that way? Maybe because even after all this time there was part of him that couldn’t believe it was true, that she’d willfully abandoned him. “I don’t think I could be completely impartial about another situation like that.”
“Ah, I see.” Ms. Rodriguez still didn’t pressure him. But the hurt had been bubbling up at odd times lately, so James figured he should take the chance to talk about Laurel while it was somewhat appropriate and relevant.
“No one ever found her and she never came back. I don’t blame her. I suspect she was being abused by our uncle, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Still, I have no idea what happened to her. I like to believe she’s happy. Out there. Somewhere.” Even if it meant she’d never looked back or bothered to reconnect with him.
“Have you ever searched for her as an adult?” Ms. Rodriguez wondered.
“To be honest, for a long time I think I was pissed off at her. A couple years ago, though, I did one of those DNA test thingies and left my info available online for relative matches. And I’ve poked around on the internet from time to time, but no one with her name has social media profiles that match her as far as I can tell.”
“Well, if she was successful in starting over somewhere else, it’s likely she changed her name.” Ms. Rodriguez sighed. “It’s best to stay positive. Maybe she found someplace like our shelter or Tom’s garage. Maybe she wasn’t out on the streets long, if at all.”
“Yeah.” James couldn’t say he really believed that, but it was a nice thought. “Anyway, I’m sure, given my situation, that I’m not the best match for the center. But if it’s okay, I’d like to talk to my friends about giving Mark a job, maybe even an apprenticeship, if that’s allowed.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you. We’re always grateful for opportunities people make available to our kids.” Ms. Rodriguez sighed. “If you change your mind about the position, you know where to find us. And if you’d ever like to volunteer for one of our events or clean up days or whatever, I’d love to meet the rest of your family.”
“Thank you.” It still warmed James to be accepted and welcomed like that, so unconditionally, and so he was sure that for Mark, it could be life changing.
“Do be sure to tell Tom that I tried my hardest to recruit you. He was quite insistent that you’d be a perfect fit for us.” She chuckled as she waved him out.
“I’ll put in a good word, don’t worry. And sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“You did plenty. Thank you.”
At least the day hadn’t been a complete bust. Between the camera installations and his time at the shelter, he’d achieved something he’d been trying to accomplish for a while. He felt like he’d done things that mattered. And although the counselor thing hadn’t ultimately worked out, he was pretty sure Tom had pointed him in the right direction.
James couldn’t wait to talk to Devon, Neil, and Tom about what other opportunities he might find to make a positive difference in someone’s life. Because this…this was almost what he wanted to do for the rest of his own.
13
“So, yeah, while it was a great day and I really appreciate you vouching for me, it’s not going to work out permanently.” James met Tom and Ms. Brown’s understanding gazes from across their kitchen table. He’d come to explain personally what had happened. He also valued their feedback, which was priceless, about where he might look next. “It did help me narrow things down though.”
“That’s great, honey.” Ms. Brown smiled and placed a blue-and-white plate stacked with fresh cookies on the table in front of him. They were warm and gooey and he couldn’t resist. She took a seat next to Tom and said, “So, what have you come up with?”
James opened his planner and flipped to the notes section where he’d brainstormed with the crew the night before. “Okay, so… I like the way it felt when I was doing things for a greater cause. Now I just have to figure out where I can help the most based on what I know how to do.”
Tom nodded. “Tell us what you think you’re best at; maybe we can help.”
“Here are skills we identified last night. I’m hyper-organized, good at building stuff, and could pretty easily expand that knowledge into working with electronics based on the work I did for Jordan yesterday.”
“That’s a good start. What else do you have on that list of yours?” Ms. Brown tried to peek as she took a cookie for herself from the plate and began to nibble on it.
“Well, Joe and Mike think I’m the best of our guys at staying cool under pressure, which is something I never considered before. But it is true that when they lose their tempers and curse and stomp, I’m usually the one that steps in to cool things down.”
“I could see that.” Tom stole a bite of Ms. Brown’s cookie, making her laugh. “Eli and Joe did always run a little hot.”
“Well, it’s no secret I’m not like most guys.” James grinned, that fact no longer bothering him as much as it used to. “In fact, the Powertools ladies say I’m empathetic, a good listener, and great at communicating. A lot of times they come to me to hash things out before working through a problem with their spouses and making sure they can deal with issues in an effective way.”
“Now that is a rare talent.” Ms. Brown patted his hand.
“Anything else?” Tom wondered.
“Just a couple odds and ends. For example, I’m not afraid of working hard. And I’m open-minded. Hell, we’re all obviously fine with being unconventional if it’s for a good cause. And I have some computer skills, but I guess everyone does these days.”
Tom huffed and shook his head. “Not me so much. Sure, I can check my email but I swear Holden and Sabra’s twins can run circles around me on my phone or that laptop Eli got me last Christmas.”
James snatched another cookie and demolished it in three bites. He probab
ly shouldn’t since he no longer had the excuse of daily manual labor to work off his extra snacks, but the exercise he’d engaged in with Devon and Neil late the night before last had to have counted for something. He deserved at least a half dozen for all those crunches he’d done and would happily do again sometime. He felt like he was starting to find his footing again. It was almost within reach, he could sense it.
Ms. Brown sighed. “Nothing comes to mind right away, but that is an impressive list and I’m certain good things are waiting for you just around the corner.”
“You know, I’m starting to believe that too.” James licked his lips. “I just need to find the right opportunity and everything will click into place.”
“That’s right. It will.” Ms. Brown nodded sagely.
“Well, thanks again for helping out yesterday. And for hooking Mark up with the crew. It sounds like that will be exactly what he needs. Your shot is coming, kid. I can feel it.” Tom matched James cookie for cookie. Now that he was retired, he and Ms. Brown informally operated a quasi-therapy kitchen right here at Hot Rods in between spending time with the family they’d made together. They sure were easy to talk to, and this obviously gave them the fulfillment James was so desperately searching for.
He could learn a lot from them and felt better having talked through his ideas.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” James waved his last, he swore it, half-eaten chocolate cookie at Tom.
“Well, I promised Jordan I’d take some documents up to him at the lake house.” He sighed, pretty unlike him. “I ordinarily wouldn’t mind the drive, especially at this time of year when the leaves are so pretty, but Willie has a doctor’s appointment and I hate to miss it.”
He clasped her hand. “I’ll be fine by myself, Tommy.”
“I know, but—” He cut a glance to her that James couldn’t quite read.
His gut clenched. Tom had lost one wife, Eli’s mother, when he was young, and had only discovered another epic love with Nola and Amber’s mom recently. So when she’d had a serious medical scare, it had rocked their world. Of course he wouldn’t want her to go to the doctor alone. They had been traumatized and knew all too well that every moment together was precious.
James had let Tom down at the shelter, but he could handle this.
“Hey, I’ve got nothing to do. Besides, I’d like to check out the camera feeds and his set up for monitoring them. Why don’t you let me take the stuff over to his place for you?” The mansion he shared with his country-star husband and their wife was a huge mountain hideaway complete with treehouse guest rooms and an indoor swimming pool that might as well have been its own Caribbean island. Though the trio also had a tiny house on the Hot Rides complex, where they stayed most weeknights when Wren had to work, James didn’t blame them for keeping Kason’s mansion in the forest for when they needed some time to themselves or room to spread out. Wayyyyy out.
“Are you sure? It’ll take you most of the afternoon to make the trip there and back.” Tom hesitated.
“Positive. It’ll make me feel useful for two days in a row. A streak I would love to extend.” James dabbed chocolate from the corners of his mouth and grinned, hoping there wasn’t more lodged in his teeth.
Ms. Brown’s kind smile made him feel like there probably was but that she took it as a commendation of her baking. As she should. Between her, Morgan, and Devon, James’s stomach was spoiled.
Tom looked to Ms. Brown, then nodded before rising and going into the living room. He took a manila envelope out of the drawer, stuck some papers in it, and sealed it before returning and passing it to James. “I wouldn’t bug you if it weren’t so important.” Tom winced.
“No trouble at all. Really. I’m happy to help.” James snatched the envelope from Tom a little too fast to pretend that he wasn’t excited by the prospect of poking around Jordan’s stronghold a bit, but he didn’t want Tom to change his mind.
James snagged his jacket and said his goodbyes before jogging to his car. Modern and completely stock, it looked decidedly out of place among all the gleaming, custom classic hot rods in the parking lot, but really, he was used to it at this point. He liked his cute little car just fine.
He tossed the envelope onto the passenger seat and buckled up before tooting his horn once, waving out the window to the mechanics, Tom and Ms. Brown, and even Joe, who might be able to spot James toodling away from his perch on the roof of the Hot Rods construction project behind the garage.
As James drove through the windy forest roads, he sang along to the radio, bopping in time to the music. Having a worthwhile objective really did make him feel more at ease. Besides, Tom hadn’t been kidding. The views on the ride were gorgeous. The million pillars of the old trees gave way from time to time to reveal expansive vistas of the forest blanketing the valleys below and a thick river cutting through it as it winded toward the giant lake it fed at the end, which Kason’s house overlooked.
James settled in, remembering that life was good and he should enjoy the little things surrounding him this day and every other. The drive passed in a blink, and soon he was waved through the guard gate outside of Kason’s mountain mansion.
It must be weird to be famous. James was glad he was a simple man.
He rolled to a stop in the small lot outside the gorgeous wood-and-stone structure, taking a moment—as always—to admire the craftsmanship that had gone into the place and the way it capitalized on the scenery around it with massive walls of windows.
He knocked on the front door but no one answered, probably unable to hear him in the huge house, so used the code Tom had given him on the keypad and started peeking around, looking for his friends. “Jordan? Kason? You here?”
Wren was probably tucked into a welding helmet back at Hot Rides. But where were her guys hiding?
James checked the kitchen and the main living areas where they held most of their get-togethers before wandering deeper into the house. At the head of a hallway he didn’t ever remember going down before, he heard voices. Light shone from an open doorway near the end of it.
Like a bug, he was drawn to it.
One of the rumbles, gravelly and serious as fuck, definitely belonged to Jordan. But there was another nearly as deep mixed with another man’s voice—this one a seductive baritone with an accent, Indian, maybe—and a woman’s too. He thought it sounded like Sola.
They seemed focused and possibly disagreeing a bit.
There was no way in hell he was leaving without delivering Tom’s critical paperwork, or maybe snooping around just a bit to see what things were like inside their security team. Instead of risking hearing something he shouldn’t, James decided to let them know he was there. He barged right in and waved.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?” James asked loudly as he entered the room. The occupants instantly froze. Two guys James had never seen before looked at Jordan to extricate them from whatever mess he’d obviously stumbled into.
James’s gaze winged from one—a big guy with tattoos that stood out on his light skin, great hair, a beard that was probably excellent for nuzzling against, and who likely owned the deep voice—to another with coppery skin and the most impressive lashes James had ever seen on a person, male or female. As he cut off, mid-sentence, James regretted the loss of his sexy accent. But the woman sitting next to her co-worker, compact yet lancing a lethal glare at James looked like she’d slice his throat if the poor bastard uttered even another syllable. He’d bet his left nut that was Sola. A couple familiar guys hovered near Jordan too: Ransom and Levi, from Hot Rides.
Which was when James realized it might not have been the best idea he’d ever had to charge right into what must be the headquarters of Jordan’s security firm. The one nobody asked questions about, but everyone knew was more than a simple bodyguard biz simply because he had some odd adolescent fascination with superheroes.
After all, Random and Levi had told them that they were in the middle of something big. And yest
erday, Jordan had been polite but obviously focused on something a lot more important. Like maybe life and death important.
Oopsie daisies.
He should have turned around right then. Gone back to the living room, or even his car, and clutched the obviously top-secret papers Tom had asked him to deliver to his chest until someone came to claim them.
But instead, he opened his filter-free mouth and the worst possible thing tumbled out.
“Oh my God. Is this a murder meeting?” James’s eyes bugged as his hands flew to his chest. Rather than pure horror, a sliver of intense curiosity spiked into the emotions that washed over him, making his idiotic boots take a step closer and then another. He tried to be subtle but he totally peeked over Ransom’s shoulder at the map spread out on the massive table.
“Uh, we prefer to call them target assessments.” Levi angled his humongous shoulders to block as much of James’s view as possible.
“Oh. Okay. Well, don’t let me interrupt. I’ll uh, just hang out over in the corner and plug my ears until you have a free second. That looks super important.” James winced then tiptoed toward a stack of papers spilling from a filing cabinet. They called to his organizational demons, making his hands itch to put them in order.
He also couldn’t help but notice the gouges their guns and other spy-slash-killing paraphernalia had made in the poor wooden surface of the command center table. Wishing he hadn’t left his planner in the car, he made a mental note to bring some sandpaper and varnish with him next time he visited.
Jordan looked like he was about to point toward the door, but instead he snarled then shook his head, returning to the huddle over the map of what had seemed at quick glance to be the outskirts of Middletown.
Why the hell was whatever they were cooking up so interesting to James? It seemed surreal, like one of his old comic books or those true crime dramas he couldn’t get enough of on TV. Except it was wasn’t fake or happening to someone he’d never heard of before. It was at least a little dangerous, which seemed exciting while he was snugly tucked into a mountain fortress, surrounded by the good guys in the equation. It tripped every one of his instincts and riled him up. These people, they made a real difference in the world. He was instantly envious of them and wanted to know more.