Stranded

by Jessica Frances

  “Small town,” Love tells me before taking a bite of her waffles.

  “Yeah, I’ve never known anything like it.”

  We eat in silence. Then the amicable chatter around us stills in an eerily creepy way.

  Love looks up over my shoulder, and her alarmed gaze is the only warning I get before someone grabs my arm and hauls me up to my feet.

  I turn around in time to see King Sr. glaring at me before I then have to focus on keeping my feet under me as he drags me out of the diner.

  Everyone around us is watching with varying degrees of shock or horror.

  I honestly haven’t gotten a handle on what I feel before we’re outside and he slams me against the glass wall.

  I can’t see them, but I feel every set of eyes still on us.

  “I know you told Sheriff Green what you overheard me saying to Jimmie,” he snarls. “You fucking stay out of my business, boy. I don’t like your kind, never have and never will. You’re going to hell, which is exactly where my son is. But, while you’re still breathing, you fucking stay away from me, or I’ll make sure you do. You hear me?”

  The world goes fuzzy as I nod hard.

  Thankfully, he steps away, and I breathe a little easier. Then, with every step he puts between us, I gasp in more air.

  “I called Rocky,” Love pants out as she runs to my side. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  I shake my head, still struggling to find my voice.

  “I can’t believe no one even made a move to stop him! Cowards!” Love screams the last word, eyeing probably everyone still staring from behind me inside the diner.

  Running footsteps have us both looking to the side where a madly running Rocky is sprinting our way.

  “Are you okay?” he huffs, his stare moving over my body, likely looking for signs that I’m dying. God knows what Love said to him to get him running over here so damn fast.

  “I’m fine,” I say, finally finding my voice. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal! He fucking dragged you out of the diner! That crazy old coot. Can’t you arrest him for assault?” Love directs that last part at Rocky.

  “No!” I quickly snap. “No,” I say calmer this time. “It’s fine. He was just annoyed about what happened yesterday. It’s okay. I’m not upset,” I lie. I fist my hands at my sides to make it less obvious that I’m shaking. I don’t know why I can’t just admit that I’m freaked out.

  “What did he say to you? What I heard sounded like a threat,” Love blurts, testing my resolve on not strangling her. Did she have to mention that in front of Rocky?

  “I’ll find him and make sure if he lays one finger on you, I’ll—”

  “Rocky, stop. Okay?” I snap, reaching out and grabbing his forearm. “He is just a sad, lonely, bigoted, old man. His punishment is that he has to live with himself.”

  Rocky’s lips purse together.

  “He made a homophobic comment, didn’t he?” Love questions much quieter now.

  “It doesn’t matter what was said. I want to drop it. Can we do that?”

  Neither Love nor Rocky argue, which I take to mean they agree with me.

  “Good. Now I’m hungry, and I think I have some breakfast waiting for me,” I say with too much bullshit cheer in my voice. “Thanks for coming over,” I tell Rocky, squeezing his arm a little before I let go and step to the side, avoiding both Love and Rocky as I walk back into the diner.

  As soon as I step foot inside, everyone averts their gaze, trying to look anywhere but at me. That isn’t awkward at all.

  I sit back down at our table, eyeing the food I now have zero appetite for and force myself to take a few mouthfuls. Did it taste like sandpaper before? Because it certainly does now.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Love asks quietly as she sits back down in her seat.

  “Yeah, but if it’s all the same to you, can we reschedule today’s activities?”

  “Of course,” she immediately agrees.

  Today, she had planned for us to tour some more famous locations from Angus Thom’s movies. Nothing that can’t be rescheduled.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine,” Love quickly rushes to say, “but if you change your mind, I’m here for you.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble, shoving enough waffle into my mouth that I can barely chew.

  I just want this meal over with.

  Alder being aggressive with me isn’t the first time that has happened to me. And, unfortunately, I’m sure it won’t be the last. The same is true of the homophobic slurs. But it never gets any easier.

  My pulse is still pounding loudly in my ears, my body is covered with sweat, and I feel antsy and unsettled. It takes a long time for my heart to settle back down, for my mind to lose the scattered thoughts, and for me to breathe easier.

  ***

  “Where are we going, and why are we leaving so damn early?” I grumble the next day, already feeling a little better after what happened yesterday. Then again, I’m still half-asleep, so maybe, once I’m fully awake, I’ll go back to being annoyed.

  “We need to head to Paxton today.”

  “Paxton? But I thought they were the enemy?”

  “They’re not. Although”—she lowers her voice, as if anyone but me is listening—“they totally are.” She gives me a wink before resuming normal conversation levels. “But we’re meeting someone there at ten, so we have to hurry.”

  She pushes me out the door, shoving a piece of toast in my mouth before she turns her back to me and locks up.

  “Who are we meeting?” I ask once I’ve bitten off a mouthful, talking through my chewing, which gets me a disgusted look from Love.

  “It’s a surprise. But I have a few errands to run afterward, so you’re going to follow me with Lemon so you can make your own way back.”

  I wonder if I’ll be unlucky enough to have her break down on me in the next town.

  “This person better be famous and hot,” I tell her, but she doesn’t spill.

  I pull out my phone as I sit in my car, waiting for Love to leave first, and see the last message in my phone, which was from Rocky.

  If you need company tonight, let me know. I can send River to her friend’s house for the night.

  I’m not sure how to take that. On the one hand, he just proved that he’s willing to shift his priorities if I ever need him. And it was a considerate and sweet message. It showed that he was thinking about me and that he does care, whether he’s willing to admit it to himself or not.

  But it isn’t enough. And maybe it’s not fair that I’m asking for more, but I’m past the point of caring.

  This adventure I set out on is not about getting myself fucked over by a guy. It’s about me, about discovering more about myself, and learning to love myself. Because I didn’t like the darkening thoughts I was having back in Chicago. I didn’t like how easy it was for me to accept settling.

  I needed this adventure to shake things up, not to get weighed down with new relationship drama, especially when Rocky is far from being ready for something more.

  So, I never respond, and he never tries again.

  A honk shakes me from my thoughts, and then I follow behind Love to Paxton.

  The roads are busier than I expected. Though, from what I’ve heard of Paxton, there seems to be more job opportunities there. Maybe a lot of people make the commute to work, much like the kids have to do to get to school.

  When we pull up, I see that Paxton actually has similar vibes to Midsummer. However, there is more traffic on the roads, mostly newer buildings, and a lot more kids walking along the sidewalks on their way to school.

  I follow Love down a side street that leads to a larger parking garage.

  When we get out, I open my mouth to grumble that I’m hungry, but she’s already ahead of me.

  “We’re meeting this person at a restaurant. I’m paying.”

  “I’m going to order extra pancakes, you know.”
/>
  “No, you won’t.”

  I purse my lips, because no, I won’t. And even if I did, Love would likely be the one to eat them anyway. “Whatever. Can you tell me who we’re meeting yet?”

  “We’re like five minutes away from meeting them. I think you can wait that long.”

  I frown, beginning to wonder if we are meeting anyone famous. Because, why the hell would we meet them in a restaurant? Wouldn’t there be swarms of fans around them?

  “Love,” I growl in warning. “We’re not doing anything we shouldn’t be, are we? Like, Rocky isn’t going to lock us up in jail or anything, right?”

  “Well …” Love gives me a bright smile while I try to remind myself that strangling her in public is a really stupid idea.

  “Who are we meeting?” I ask just as we round a building that Love opens the door to.

  Inside is a typical, regular-looking restaurant, nothing fancy, and only a small, handful of people are scattered throughout.

  In one corner, on her own, is a woman who Love immediately begins to wave to. I eye her as we get closer, but I have no idea who she is.

  “Hi, you’re Britney Trim, correct?”

  “And you’re Love Fuller? I had to google your name before I could believe you were for real,” she admits, giving us a warm smile.

  “This is Conner Sherwood; he’s my assistant,” Love introduces while I try to place the name.

  “It’s nice to meet you both, though not under these circumstances.”

  “I know what you mean,” Love agrees, sounding grave, as she sits down in the booth then scoots over so I have room to get in next to her.

  “So, you wanted to talk to me about King Alder, my fiancé?”

  Finally, the name clicks into place, though I think Troy might have had her first name incorrect, and her last name. How the hell did Love find her? And, thinking along that line, why is Love investigating this again?

  “Yes. I understand that it was an arranged marriage?”

  Britney reddens as she glances down at her lap.

  Before she can answer, a waitress comes over to ask us what we want. We all order coffee and nothing more.

  I no longer feel all that hungry.

  “You were saying?” Love prompts Britney.

  “Right. Um … It was arranged by our dads. So, I guess, yeah, I had an arranged marriage planned.” She shakes her head. “I never really thought about it that way.”

  “Why were you going to marry him?”

  She sighs and gives us a sad smile. “I’ve known King since we were kids. Our dads were friends. I’ve always loved him.”

  “Did you know he was gay?” I ask her quietly.

  She nods. “He told me when we were sixteen. I …” She glances back down at her lap. “I wasn’t supportive. I don’t think anyone was. We lost contact for a while, but I always loved him.”

  “So then, what happened?” Love asks when she doesn’t keep speaking.

  “Earlier this year, Mr. Alder got in contact with my father. He needed help. His rice farm is the biggest in the state, but he has so many loans that he’s fallen behind. He needed an out. He was hoping my father would be that out.”

  “So, he was lying about being successful,” I murmur to Love.

  “My father knew of my love for King. I had a boyfriend for a while. He …” She tenses, her eyes tearing. “He was unkind. He … hurt me.”

  Love immediately reaches over the table, holding her hand over Britney’s. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

  She nods again. “I got out before it got too bad. But … it scared me. It scared my daddy. So, he thought it would be a win-win to have King Jr. and I marry. He trusted King not to hurt me, and he already knew I loved him.”

  “He didn’t know he was gay?”

  “No, and … well, when King and I saw each other, he never brought it up again. I thought … I hoped …” She shrugs, wiping a stray tear away from her cheek.

  “I’m sorry you lost a friend,” I tell her, unsure what else to say.

  “Does that mean your deal is off? I wonder if that’s the real reason behind King Sr. being so aggressive yesterday. He’s still under financial stress?” Love asks me.

  I shrug.

  “No, my father is still going to honor the deal. He wouldn’t hold it against him that his son was killed.”

  “So, King Sr. is still getting money from your father?”

  “Yes.” Britney wipes at her eyes and straightens up, looking determined. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I have to get to work.”

  I wonder what this all means, while Love thanks her for her time.

  “I hope you find out who hurt my friend. I might not have understood his ways, but I still want him to have justice.”

  I watch her leave the restaurant and sit back in my seat, my mind racing.

  “Why are we here, Love? What’s this about?”

  “King Sr. is not getting away with what happened yesterday. He wants us to butt out of his life? Well, he can forget it. No one threatens my friend and gets away with it.”

  I smile softly, wondering how I got so lucky to get a friend like her so easily. “That’s sweet and all, but I’m not exactly sure what you think we just learned.”

  “What do we know about King Jr.?”

  I shrug. Truthfully, I know very little about the man.

  “Come on, Conner. What do we know?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I know he was gay. He was engaged to a woman he didn’t love romantically.”

  “What else?”

  I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. He was a wannabe car thief, and he used to own a pretty scary knife.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly what?”

  “He was a wannabe car thief. Why?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “You know, maybe he wanted to steal your car not to just be an asshole but to get away from Midsummer.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe it just all was getting too much. Maybe he had a fight with his father. I don’t know. But I do know that we don’t have much crime in Midsummer. Having your car almost stolen is the first time in recent memory that it’s happened.”

  “Okay …”

  “And remember we actually had a car stolen the following night. Abe’s car was stolen outside Midsummer Bar and Grill. And then it was involved in a car accident, one that also involved King Sr.’s car.”

  “You think King Jr. was driving the stolen car, not his father’s?”

  “I think it makes more sense that his father was trying to ram him off the road than King Jr. trying to ram someone else off the road. And how come we never found that person driving the stolen car? But, do you know what is near that accident site?”

  “The bar we went to?” I guess.

  “Yep. It’s only a couple of miles away. If King was concuss, then it might explain why he looked like he had already been drinking. And Troy said he looked messed up.”

  “So, you’re saying his father ran him off the road?”

  “Yes. And if he was willing to do that, I wonder if he’s willing to straight-up shoot his son.”

  “Holy shit, Love!” I gasp, afraid that the picture she’s creating feels all too real.

  “I bet if Rocky speaks to Britney’s father, he’ll confirm what she just told him, which gives him motive if his son refused to follow through on the marriage. It’s one thing for your future son-in-law to be unexpectedly killed, and another thing entirely for him to run away rather than marry your daughter.”

  “What about the gun?”

  “Everyone owns a gun around these parts, Conner. And a lot of people go back many generations, and so do their weapons. Not every gun is registered.”

  “You think King Sr. has an older weapon that is unregistered?”

  “It’s absolutely possible.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that King Sr. killed his son.” I try to keep the d
isbelief from my tone, because it can’t seriously be that … can it?

  “Yep. And if that’s true, then I bet he tried to kill John Troy, as well.”

  I try to follow her logic. “Why try to kill him?”

  “Because John knew King Jr. was gay. He couldn’t have that getting around, and he likely heard through the grapevine that he had spoken to us.”

  “Wouldn’t we be targets, too, then? Or at least Deputy Dickhead?”

  Love tilts her head, considering. “I’d say that he doesn’t want this to get too big, and two victims are big enough. John speaking to Rocky would have more weight because he was King’s friend. Whatever we have is hearsay. And King Sr. might be ballsy, but killing a deputy might be too much, even for him. Or, who knows? Maybe he’s next? Or he might not know about Randy and King being an item. They were keeping their relationship a secret.”

  It’s a little scary how much thought Love has given to this, but I have to admit to feeling a little relieved that she doesn’t believe we’re in danger.

  “How the hell did you come up with this?”

  Love fists her hands. “I was so angry yesterday that I couldn’t stop thinking about King Sr. I went over all my notes on him, and then I got to thinking about John Troy and what he told us, which led me to finding Britney. She tagged King in a post on his Facebook page several months back. She was nervous to talk over the phone, so I convinced her to meet me in person after she had checked me out.”

  “It’s still a lot of leaps and speculations.”

  “I think I’m right,” she confidently states.

  I fear she might be, as well. Damn.

  “Rocky’s going to be so pissed off.”

  “I know, but let me deal with Rocky.”

  My head perks up. “Seriously?”

  “Sure,” Love says with a small smile. “I’ve chucked you under the bus enough times. Time for me to take a hit.”

  “You’re actually volunteering for this?”

  “Yep. Now, I have errands to run before I get back to Midsummer. I have another lead I want to chase. You’re going to be okay to get back home on your own?”

  Something strange hits me at her mention of home being back in Midsummer.