HERO: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  Pulling up to the diner, I sigh when I see Channing’s car parked in the same space she parks for work every day.

  We both jump out of the truck and rush into the quiet place. Lulamae, her coworker, is at the counter, her brows lifting high when she sees us in our panicked state.

  “Where is she?” Rylan shouts.

  Lulamae’s body jerks and I watch as Clarence appears from behind the counter. The codgy old cook frowns at the sight of us. After finding the office empty with Channing’s final check still on the desk, Lulamae lifts her hands to her throat, her boney fingers wrapping around it as her eyes focus on mine.

  “I thought she left. She said she was going. I told her to go,” she mumbles.

  “Not your fault, Lulamae. Nobody could have known. They had to have taken her out of the back,” Rylan assures her.

  “You know where they live?” she asks, turning to look at Rylan.

  “They?” I ask, unsure of exactly who they’re talking about.

  I assume all of this has to do with Channing’s baby daddy and his wife, both have been suspiciously hateful toward the young woman. Another reason why Rylan has become so taken with her, she needs as much saving as he does.

  Clarence grunts, his cellphone in his hand. “I called the sheriff, but you two may want to take a little drive,” he suggests.

  Rylan jerks his chin in my direction, then turns to walk out of the diner. I follow quickly behind him, needing to stay close, needing to help. I can’t have him going back to jail and I can’t have anything happen to his woman or their baby that she’s pregnant with.

  I start the truck as soon as we climb inside, then take my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts until I find the name that I’m looking for.

  “Wyatt,” a voice drawls.

  “You and Louis still in town?” I ask.

  His throat clears on the other end. “What do you need?”

  “I don’t know yet. Meet me at…” I rattle off the address, then I call Ford and say the same thing.

  “Wyatt?” Rylan asks.

  He obviously has no clue why I’m calling these men. These are the ones that you want at your back when shit goes south, these are men that will be at your side and have you no matter what fucking happens, and I have a feeling this situation is going to need witnesses, lots of fucking witnesses.

  “Back up, witnesses, whatever they need to be, that’s what they’ll be,” I mutter.

  I can’t think as I drive. The only thing that runs through my head is the fact that we could lose Channing in all of this. Rylan has finally found his other half, and we could fucking lose her.

  Pulling up in front of a house, I grin when an expensive black pickup pulls up from the opposite direction. Beaumont and Louis sure do know how to make an appearance. Rylan doesn’t say anything as we exit my truck and walk over toward them.

  “Ford’s a little bit away. Channing is missing. This is James and Jennifer’s place. Doesn’t look like anyone’s home, but fuck, we don’t know where else she could be,” I explain.

  Rylan doesn’t speak, he looks like he’s trying to swallow, but his throat won’t work.

  “I’ll go around back, just peek in some of the windows,” Beaumont offers.

  “Should we wait for the sheriff?” Rylan finally asks. I look at Rylan like he’s crazy.

  We already know the sheriff ain’t gonna do shit when it comes to this situation, he’s been called multiple times, and at this point, I don’t even know if he’s going to show up out here. No way in hell are we going to just wait for him.

  “Can’t get my ass locked up, not when I got a woman and baby to take care of,” he states.

  Looking back at the house, then over to Rylan, I let out a sigh. I open my mouth to speak, but then that goddamn sheriff proves me fucking wrong. Ford’s old piece of shit ranch truck pulls up with two goddamn cruisers behind him, lights flashing. The sheriff quickly parks, then exits his car and jogs toward us.

  “You boys didn’t do nothin’ stupid, did ya?” he asks, his eyes dancing as he looks between all of us.

  “Nope, just looking around, wondering if she’s here,” Beaumont shrugs.

  “Beau,” the officer warns.

  Beaumont lifts his hand between him and the officer. “Has nothing to do with my past, it has everything to do with this pregnant friend of mine. Those two,” he says, pointing at James and Jennifer’s house before he continues. “Have been terrorizing her for weeks. We know they have something to do with her disappearance, Robby.”

  The sheriff nods, his eyes shift from the house, then over to Rylan. “You don’t think she’s just gone back to her little boyfriend, do you?” he asks, his eyes continuing to focus on Rylan and not turning away. The fucker.

  “No. We were moving to Fredericksburg in a few days, getting out of town,” he explains, cool as a goddamn cucumber.

  I clench my fists together, wanting nothing more than to throw down with Sheriff Robby.

  “I’ll knock on the door, but that’s all I can promise. She could be anywhere. She’s an adult, I can’t file her as missing after only a few hours,” he says lamely.

  Glancing down, I notice that Rylan is doing the same thing that I am, flexing his hand, making a fist and releasing it, over and over. I’m surprised he isn’t losing his shit. Channing isn’t even my woman, and I’m on the fucking edge.

  “She’s not in there,” Beaumont grunts loud enough for the sheriff to hear.

  Rylan nods, agreeing. “No, she’s not.”

  “Where do they have her?” Ford asks. He lifts his hand to his jaw and scrubs his five o’clock shadowed face.

  Nobody answers the door, just as we suspected, and the sheriff makes his way back toward us with a worried look and a shrug.

  “Call us if she comes home. I’ll make sure to put the word out at the station. We’ll find her, if she wants to be found, that is.” He doesn’t wait for us to respond, he walks away, slips into his cruiser and drives off.

  “Prick,” Beaumont grunts.

  “Why do you hate him so much?” Louis asks.

  All of our eyes shift over to Beaumont. He spits, then he lifts his eyes to us. “I don’t hate him. I hate his sister,” he shrugs.

  “Who, Chelle?” Ford asks, with a frown.

  It dawns on me. Chelle was always a bitch, I remember who she was, and I remember her dragging Beaumont through the wringer before he left town and got himself famous.

  The story about Chelle isn’t new, I’ve heard it a million times. It’s practically town legend, or maybe more lore. Whatever the fuck it is, it has nothing to do with our task at hand—finding Channing.

  Then it hits me. “What about James’ brother?” I ask, interrupting their story time.

  All of the men slowly turn to face me, different looks of surprise on their faces.

  “Do you know where he lives?” Louis asks.

  Me and Ford both nod. Gallup isn’t that big, and with my job, I know where pretty much everyone lives, including that fucking piece of shit, Jacob.

  “Let’s go in one car. Drop the trucks off at the diner and head out from there together,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, we can do that,” Louis nods.

  We all split up and Rylan climbs into the passenger seat of my truck as I climb into the driver’s seat. “You think she’s at the brother’s?” Rylan asks.

  “I honest to God do not know, Ry. We’re going to exhaust every option though. We will find her,” I state.

  “Fuck,” he grunts.

  I stay quiet as I focus on driving toward the house. A million different thoughts fill my head. I hate all of them, and I try to keep them from infiltrating, but fuck, they have her, I know that they do.

  “We will not stop until she is found. We know that they have her. She didn’t just run off, not Channing. Not after the other night. If she went anywhere, she knows she can come to me, but her car is there, her check is there. She did not just run off on a whim,” I m
utter to Rylan as much as I say it to myself.

  EXETER

  I’m helping MawMaw with her famous chocolate sheet cake when there’s a pounding on the door.

  “Just pop that in the oven, child, and I’ll get the door,” she says, giving me a wide smile.

  I don’t argue with her, this is her house and I’m just here to spend the afternoon with her.

  “The house next door? Have you seen two pregnant women go inside?” I hear a masculine voice ask.

  Shoving my hands under the warm water, I wash them and grab a drying towel quickly just as I hear MawMaw’s voice respond to the man.

  “There are always young girls going in and out of there. You know it ain’t right, he’s a grown man. It’s none of my never mind, but those girls don’t look of age,” she explains.

  “I think he kidnapped my girlfriend, she’s pregnant. Do you think you could try and get them out of the house? I just want to talk to him, see if she’s in there,” he rambles.

  My heart stops. Jacob. He’s a sick piece of shit, but I didn’t think he could hurt a pregnant woman, though it wouldn’t surprise me, not with the evidence I’ve seen of how he handles women on Emily’s skin.

  “I’ll call the sheriff,” MawMaw states, and she takes a step back.

  My feet are somehow glued to the floor and they only move when I hear the panicked man’s voice again. “I already called, they said because she’s an adult they won’t file a missing person’s report yet. She’s missing though, and I think they took her.”

  MawMaw looks over toward Jacob’s house again, then back to the man as I arrive at her side.

  “MawMaw, what’s going on?” I ask.

  I look at the man, he’s handsome, his dark blond hair and familiar light brown eyes looking up at us, pleading. He’s covered in tattoos, and although they should probably look frightening, they don’t. They only make him look even more handsome than he naturally is.

  Lifting my gaze, I look past him to the other men at his back and I see him. Wyatt. I can feel my face get hot, and I know that my cheeks are bright red at the sight of him.

  Oh my God.

  He’s here, standing right in front of me, and I realize once again, that I could never have him, not really. He’s absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

  “Exeter?” Wyatt asks.

  It’s been a few weeks, and I assumed that he would have forgotten all about me, including my name.

  I smile before nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Hey, Wyatt,” I breathe.

  “Fuck, do you think you could help us?” he asks.

  I step around MawMaw, opening the screen door to walk out on the porch. “Whatever you need, Wyatt,” I exhale, unfortunately, my words meaning everything they do and do not imply.

  I hear him curse, but ignore it, because I already know he just needs my help for this friend of his. Him asking me doesn’t really mean anything. I know who he’s looking for too. There’s only one pregnant woman in town who is connected to Jacob and his brother, James.

  It’s Channing Shephard, and I think that poor girl has been through enough. I know an abused sister when I see one, and I’ll do whatever I can to save her, to deliver her into the arms of this tattooed man that is so desperate to have her back.

  James is a teacher at the high school, and if gossip is true, they’ve been carrying on an affair since Channing was a student. Also, if rumor is true, the baby she carries is her ex-teachers and not this man who says he’s her boyfriend.

  My eyes skirt back over to the tattooed man in front of me. Then it dawns on me, this is Rylan. I remember reading in the paper about him, he’s just out of jail after going away for drunk driving and accidentally killing a pregnant woman and the baby.

  God. I shake my head, deciding they’ve had more than enough thrown at them. If I can help, that’s what I’m going to do.

  “Go ahead inside, MawMaw, call the sheriff if you need to,” I instruct.

  MawMaw lifts her chin, giving me a small wink before she disappears into the house.

  “What do you know?” the tattooed stranger asks.

  I glance over at Jacob’s house then back over to the group of equally handsome men. “I know whatever he does in there, it’s nothing good. I’ll see if I can sneak in the back. He never locks it.” I shrug.

  “Exeter?” Wyatt grunts.

  My eyes find his. “Doesn’t matter, Wyatt. I know who Channing is, I’ve heard the rumors. I know who Jacob and James are, too. I want to help.”

  Without another word, I turn away from them and hurry toward the back of the house, the place that I’ve seen Emily disappear into more times than I would prefer to know.

  Chapter Five

  WYATT

  I watch Exeter walk away, my body frozen for a moment. Then my feet quickly become unstuck as soon as she turns and her body disappears around a corner.

  Careful not to make noise, I watch her slip inside of a sliding glass door. She doesn’t close it all the way, so I silently follow her into the house. I can’t believe I’m fucking breaking into this house, but for Rylan and Channing, I would do anything. To protect Exeter from harm, I would do anything.

  “Don’t worry, I’m the uptight bitch from next door. The sheriff is coming, maybe. Wyatt and his crew are outside, pacing and pissed,” Exeter whispers.

  I grunt, crouching down behind her. “I’m not pissed,” I hiss.

  Exeter makes a squeaking noise, her hands on the binds of Channing’s wrist. “Where did you come from. Why are you here?” she asks.

  “Can you guys argue elsewhere?” Channing grinds out. “I’m kind of in a situation.” She sounds scared, terrified, and I hope that she isn’t hurt.

  Rylan doesn’t need any more pain in his life, and neither does she. They deserve their bit of happiness and I’m going to make damn fucking sure that they have it too. Someone needs to be happy, goddammit.

  “Okay, Channing,” I chuckle.

  I bat Exeter’s hands away as I move to untie Channing’s wrists, only to have her bat my hands away as well. With a growl, I grab ahold of Exeter’s wrists and hold them still. Pushing her hands away, careful not to add too much force. She really fucking sucks at untying binding.

  “Exeter, you make one more move and I’ll cut this bitch,” a voice growls.

  The new woman’s voice sounds strained, harsh, and young. Slowly, I lift my gaze to see her standing in front of Channing, holding a knife. Her hair is stringy, her body completely nude and covered with red marks combined with old and new purple and yellow bruising.

  “Don’t do this, Emily. Please, don’t do this,” Exeter begs, her eyes focused on the woman.

  The Emily girl shakes her head. She looks manic. There is definitely something more working behind her tired eyes. She’s Jacob’s newest piece, she must be. That asshole has been using and abusing young girls for years. Grinding my jaw, I wonder how he is still breathing clean air, where he should be is in fucking jail.

  “She is trying to ruin everything, Exeter,” she hisses.

  Exeter makes a noise in the back of her throat. “No, she’s not. Her boyfriend wants her back home, she doesn’t want anything to do with these people, you have to believe me,” she pleads.

  “I can’t just let you walk out,” Emily mutters.

  Exeter steps to the side then moves toward Emily. I follow her, placing my hand against her lower back. I don’t know if it’s for support, or protection, or maybe just because I need to feel her beneath my fingers right now. I need to make sure she’s safe.

  “You can, and you will,” I announce.

  I reach into the back of my jeans and grab the gun that I shoved into my waistband before I got out of my truck. I always keep my handgun with me, and today I’m glad for my bit of paranoia. Holding my piece in my grip, I keep it at my thigh, careful not to spook Emily, who is still holding onto her knife with a death grip.

  Emily swings the knife toward us. We both jump back, freezing
in our spots. My finger itches to pull the trigger, but I don’t. Just looking into her eyes, I can see that she’s not all there. She’s sick. I stay still, waiting for this scene to unfold and try to stall so that the sheriff can get here before anyone gets hurt.

  “If I scream, they’ll be in here, then you’ll all die,” Emily says. “You need to leave, Exeter. I can’t save you.”

  “Why are you this way? Why do you do this?” Exeter asks, keeping her voice soft and gentle.

  Emily shakes her head, lifting her free hand to her throat. “He loves me. You don’t understand. You never will, because no one man wants you the way Jacob wants me.”

  “He’s sick, Emily. You’re sick too,” Exeter whispers.

  Emily shakes her head, her eyes even wilder than before. “He’s not. He loves me and sometimes love hurts. Just like your dad hurt you, just like mine hurt me,” she rambles.

  My back stiffens, and I know that she isn’t going to stop. Her words, though, they slice through me. Their meaning is not lost on me, not even for a fucking second. Shoving the gun in the back of my jeans, I take a chance and charge Emily.

  Lifting my hand, I put my palm over her mouth and push her down to the floor. If she sticks me with her knife, I’ll most likely survive, she’s painfully thin and extremely weak. I don’t want her hurting anyone else, though, and now she’s talking about personal shit, personal shit that I’m sure Exeter doesn’t want broadcasted.

  I hear a noise and look to the right. James stops for a second, his feet faltering at the sight of what is unfolding in front of him. I take his surprise and use it to my advantage. Reaching toward the back of my waistband, I pull out my gun and point it at him.

  “Fuck,” he shouts, just as he jumps to the side at the same time, I pull the trigger.

  I hear him cry out, staggering a few steps, his hand flying to his side. The sound of the front door slamming against the wall causes me to freeze, my gun still trained on the crying James.