by Tess Oliver
Her brows bunch up cutely. "Oh right, that's Jack. I forgot that was his nickname." She grinned. "Should I answer it?"
"No, I'm thinking I'll hold off on the surprise until we can really shock the hell out of him." I answered. "Hey."
"First of all, I'm hearing some crazy ass story that you got a weird note about meeting someone at midnight in a park. Angus said you thought it was from the singer, the one you thought was Kenzie or Sutton or whoever. Anyhow, since you're answering, I'll assume you didn't go and meet some serial killer in the park."
"Good afternoon to you too, fuckface. I'm not a kitten. I can handle myself, and no, of course I didn't go meet any serial killer in the park at midnight." I winked at Sutton.
She covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.
"See, that's what I told Angus, but he was sure you were going to go. Are you finally through chasing your past? He said she isn't even with the band anymore."
"Nope, she's not with the band," I said curtly.
Sutton walked over and wrapped her arms around me, resting her head against my chest. It felt as fucking right as rain having her there. Fuck her father for everything he did to her. She could have been in my life long ago. As I reveled in the feel of having her warm body snuggled against mine, I missed Bronx's question.
"Well?" he asked.
"What? Sorry, I was—uh—watching something on television."
"So glad a rerun of The Office is more important than your best friend. I was saying that we're all meeting at the park at two for a game of soccer. Interested?"
I was about to say no, thinking I wanted to just stay home, in the same place, with Sutton wrapped around me for the next ten hours, but it would be my opportunity to give Bronx a little surprise from the past, so to speak.
"Yeah, I'll be there with fucking bells on."
"No need for bells. See you then."
I hung up. Sutton peered up at me. Just looking at her took my breath away.
"What's happening that requires bells?" she asked.
I laughed. "Turns out no bells needed, but how would you like to see Bronx? Or do you think it'll be too risky."
"I think I'm already past the point of no return considering I'm here with you. Besides, we're going to get him, right? We're going to put that asshole Sheriff Jensen behind bars, right?" Her green eyes glistened with hope. I fretted that I'd promised too much. Jensen had always had so much power in our county, taking him down would be like taking down a king or president, but it was the only way to free her from this unstable existence.
"Damn right we're going to put him behind bars."
She dropped her arms and clapped a few times. "Then yes, I would love to see Jack. He was always such a nice guy."
"Yeah, he always thought highly of you," I said.
"Really?" she looked utterly surprised.
"Yeah, I mean Jack always liked to fancy himself the cerebral guy, you know? And you were always winning all those awards and getting As."
She shook her head. "Oh, right, I guess I did notice he didn't pay Kenzie as much attention as everyone else. When are we going?"
I glanced at the clock. "We need to be at the park at two." I took hold of her hand. "Which gives us nearly an hour of naked time." I led her toward the bedroom.
"Huh, naked time. Not sure if I'm familiar with that," she teased.
"I'll teach you all about it." I kicked open the bedroom door. "And, in case you hadn't figured it out, it begins with you being naked. Then we progress from there."
She pulled off her shirt and dropped her pants and panties to the floor. She held her arms out and twirled around once. "Will this do?"
I pulled her into my arms. "It's a fucking start."
16
Sutton nervously rubbed her hands together then stuck them between her knees as she stared expectantly out the window.
"Hey, relax. It's just Bronx. He's as sweet and adorable as a puppy. At least that's what my mom thinks."
She smiled as she attempted to relax back against the seat. "That's pretty accurate, actually. He was always a nice kid. I didn't know him in his teens, but I'm sure he grew up just as sweet and adorable. He was definitely always handsome. Like the kind of guy you see in a magazine or on a movie screen."
"Great, now I'm feeling like a troll," I quipped.
She leaned over and semi-hugged me. "You are no troll, Kingston Bristow, and you could be in a magazine too. Like a tractor supply or maybe a motorcycle parts catalog."
"Not sure if that's a compliment or not but I'll take it."
"I guess I'm nervous because I've been hiding from my past for so long, it feels like I'm sort of diving into it headlong all of a sudden. After I saw you that day in the coffee shop, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was so nice to see a familiar face. All these memories and feelings came rushing back, but I was scared shitless too. I thought, if I could run into you, then I could run into my dad. Just being connected to someone in Westridge—"
I reached over and squeezed her hand. "I think your dad is living off the grid somewhere, hunting and fishing and staying the hell away from people. Which is where he should be," I added angrily. I badly wanted to strangle the guy, or, at the very least, see his ass dragged off to the same jail he always threatened me with as a rebellious teen.
Sutton shook her head. "I don't think he's off the grid. He would never cut himself off like that, especially while I'm still out in the world, holding all his murderous secrets."
I turned onto the road that led to the park. A cool breeze was ruffling the amber and orange colored trees.
"What do you think Isaac Rangel had to do with it all? I know they were friends."
"No, they weren't friends. My dad would always tell Isaac that he was a loser, a hermit, not worth a damn, but they had this weird symbiotic relationship. Like, I know there was a few times when Isaac got caught shoplifting at the market or driving drunk, but my dad never charged him. He was sort of looking after him, even though it seemed he hated the guy. I think Dad even used to give him money. Sometimes Isaac would come to the house late, after dark, always drunk. My mom used to tell my dad to just send him away, but my dad would always go out and talk to him. Once, I glanced out the front window, and Dad was handing him some cash. My dad never had empathy for anyone. He was not a charitable guy, so it was hard to believe he'd taken pity on the town drunk."
I pulled into the parking lot. Angus and Mixx were kicking a soccer ball around. Bronx and Kaos were setting up some cones for goals. The park was pretty empty, which meant we'd have the place mostly to ourselves. Kaos had already taken that into consideration and was blasting music through a set of speakers. Our opposing team was made up of some guys from local fire stations. It was usually a ridiculously lawless game with no ref and just our enthusiasm and wits to get the job done. Various spectators, including a few kids were grouped along the imaginary field border. Layla was sitting on a chair with a book on her lap and a drink at her side.
Sutton had gotten tensely quiet as she stared out at the group of people mingling on the field.
"Layla is really nice," I said, lamely. I sounded like a parent trying to coax their kid into making friends, but that might have been because she looked as if she was rethinking this whole soccer game thing.
She fiddled with the edge of her sweatshirt and bit her lip. "I'm sure she is. I'm just nervous. I don't have much practice at these social events. I've moved around so much that I just never stick around long enough for socializing. When I hook up with a band, I never get to know them. I just practice with them, show up for gigs and then go on my own until I decide to cut ties and move on." She laughed dryly. "I used to be so good at it—socializing." She looked over at me.
"Uh, not that I recall, to be honest. Even when you decided to come hang out with Kenzie and the rest of us, you usually wandered off to do your own thing."
Her face smoothed and she laughed again, nervously this time. "Yes, I guess that's true. But for m
e, that was socializing," she said quickly. "Now, as an adult—"
"Look, we don't have to stay long. I'll play a few rounds and then—"
"No, I tagged along. I don't want to ruin your day. I'm fine," she said, though she didn't look it. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Is that Layla with the book? She's gorgeous. Why did I wear this dowdy sweatshirt?"
I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the mouth. "You couldn't look dowdy if you were wearing a potato sack. You ready?"
She nodded. "Yes. No. Yes, yes I am. There's Jack. Oh my gosh, he's gorgeous too."
I opened my door, not entirely sure she would do the same. Her hand went to the handle and she pushed it. More than ever, I wanted to destroy the man who had done this to her. She was beautiful, smart and talented, but she was going through major anxiety just thinking about talking to people. Jensen needed to fall and fall hard. I just wasn't sure exactly how to make that happen.
Bronx spotted my truck. His white smile flashed our direction. He headed toward us just as Sutton climbed out. His smile turned into more of a chin drop. He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and stopped a few feet short of the truck.
"Kenzie?" he said, in a confused, quiet voice.
"No, jackass," I said. "It's Sutton." I wanted to knuckle punch his arm. It was the last thing she needed when she was already hesitant about getting out of the truck.
Bronx shook his head as if shaking off a weird trance. "Right, sorry, it's just—it's just that—I forgot how much you two looked alike. It's stupid but I used to take pride in being one of the few people who could tell you two apart." He was talking fast, and I had to admit I was enjoying watching him squirm about his misstep. It was strange, considering Bronx wasn't big on missteps. I'd already told him that I'd found Sutton and not Kenzie. I could tell he'd shocked even himself when he accidentally blurted out Kenzie.
Sutton seemed to relax some. She opened her arms for a hug. "Jack Devlin, nicest guy in Westridge."
I cleared my throat to protest. Sutton winked my direction. "At least I didn't say sexiest." Then she leaned closer to his ear and whispered something. They both chuckled about whatever she'd said. I decided to ignore it. I was too relieved to see her loosening up right away.
A whistle pierced the air. There was no mistaking it came from Angus. He could be on an entirely different mountainside and his whistle would carry so that we all knew where he was standing.
Angus tossed a soccer ball back and forth between his hands. "Are we gonna play or what?"
"Coming you impatient barbarian," Bronx said. He turned back to us. "I have to admit, I'm feeling more than a little stunned. I'm dying to hear everything."
"We might not have time for that," I said. "We're thinking of heading back to Westridge." Bronx looked even more shocked. "Sutton's mom did not leave town. We're going to find out what happened to her."
His face smoothed into a serious expression. "Is that safe? What about Sutton's dad? Where will you start?"
"According to my dad, after Jensen sold his house—"
That statement caught Sutton's attention. "Did he? To who?"
I wasn't sure if I was breaking sad news or not but there was no reason not to tell her. She would find out soon enough if we returned to Westridge. "Developers bought the house. They razed it to the ground," I said the last part with some caution.
"Good. That place holds so many bad memories I'm glad I won't have to see it when we return to Westridge."
I turned back to Bronx. "Jensen is living in a cabin ten miles from town. It'll give us some time to snoop around. I've got a place to start but it's a long story. I'll tell you later, otherwise Angus is going to start pitching a fit."
Bronx ignored my warning about the fit. "Something just occurred to me that might help," he said, "Remember Tyler Martin?"
"The guy who used to always have big wads of gum in his mouth," Sutton said. "He used to leave them under the seats in English class because he didn't like Ms. Spencer."
"Yeah, big wads of gum," Bronx said. "That's right."
"I used to play football with him in the after school league," I said, "and I think I know where this is going. He became a cop, didn't he?"
Bronx nodded. "Sure did. We kept in touch because we used to play Xbox Live together."
"Ah yes, you guys were some of the privileged few with an actual Xbox," I chided. "Do you think I should ask him to help?"
"Last I heard, he's working in that county," Bronx said. "Maybe he could help. Anyhow, just a suggestion." He glanced back. It seemed Layla was waiting for an invite to meet my date. "I'm sure Layla's anxious to meet you," he said to Sutton. He stared at her for a second. "It's good to see you, Sutton."
"You too, Jack."
Bronx waved and Layla hopped up and strolled over. She was wearing that smile that made you think all was right with the world as long as that smile was part of it. She didn't hesitate to hug Sutton the second they were introduced and it made Sutton relax even more.
"I'm so excited to meet you," Layla said as she ushered her away. "I have an extra chair, and I made some lemonade," were the last words I heard as the two women crossed the lawn to the chairs.
"Layla can make anyone feel welcome," I said. "She was feeling anxious about having to socialize. Guess she never stays in one place long enough to get to know anyone." I looked at Bronx. "I now know how you felt when you and Layla were just starting out. It all feels too right, and at the same time, it feels like it's so fragile, I could wake up tomorrow and she'll be gone. That fucker Jensen was way worse than any of us figured."
"We all thought he was just an asshole to us kids." Bronx and I headed toward the field. We slowed our pace to finish our conversation. Bronx was still the only person who could understand what was happening. "If he killed their mother, who knows what else he's been hiding. Kenzie's death was sure glossed over quickly. Do you think he had something to do with it?"
"Not sure but I'm gonna find out. Otherwise, Sutton is never going to stop running, and I want her to stay. I want her in my life." We both watched the two women settle right into chairs with lemonades as if they'd known each other forever.
Bronx patted me on the shoulder. "Welcome to my world, buddy. Welcome to my world."
17
An unexpected wind had cut the soccer game short. It whipped the trees as Sutton and I headed back to my house.
Sutton was smiling but it was a wistful smile. The same dreamy longing glittered in her eyes. "Layla is so amazing, and she gets to help people, people who are sick and scared. It's such a fulfilling job. All I do is entertain a bunch of drunks while singing other people's songs. I'm a useless entity on this planet, just taking up space and air."
It was ill-timed but I laughed. "Are you kidding with the useless entity shit? First of all, my life right now would still be boring and empty if you hadn't stepped into it."
"Yes but you save people and animals from terrible fires." She paused. "Really? Are you really glad I stepped into your life? Sometimes I feel like I'm just trouble. I've felt that for a long time."
"Shit, Sutton, you've got to be kidding. Once we've nailed your dad to the wall, you can start all those dreams you had as a kid. We just need to get that one obstacle out of your way."
"Wish I had your confidence, King. My dad's not going to go down easy. He's still got a lot of connections. Last year, when I was in Texas, this guy in a green sedan kept following me. I know he was a private eye. I'd let my guard down and allowed the band I was in to post a video of us playing in a nightclub. Next thing I knew, this creep with a bushy moustache and one of those dorky short sleeved button down shirts was following me around in his unmarked car, which made it look super suspicious."
"What did you do?"
"The same thing I always do when I feel like my dad is getting closer, I left town and didn't look back. Caught a midnight bus and gave the guy the slip." She shivered and rubbed her arms. It wasn't cold in the truck. "Let's not talk abo
ut my dad for awhile. I haven't thought so much about him in a long time. It's bringing back crummy memories." She twisted around and checked out my back seat, then turned back to me with a glint in her emerald eyes. "Remember Evergreen Point?"
"You mean the make out place on the other side of Westridge? Might have gone there a few times, even though it was kind of scary in my crappy truck. Never knew if I'd get stuck out there on that windy road." I caught a second glint. "And what the fuck am I talking about that stupid ass truck for when I've got a beautiful woman asking me about a make out place with an unusually seductive sparkle in her eyes."
"If you're done rambling, Kingston Bristow, I think you should find a place to park this truck, a much nicer truck than your old clunker, so we can climb into that back seat and take our clothes off."
"You do not have to ask me twice. Looking for a place right now. Why the fuck are there no remote places to pull off? Damn this road and its skinny turnouts. Clothes off, you say?" I glanced at her.
She licked her bottom lip. "Every fucking stitch."
"Shit, shit, shit, where can I park? You know that if Bronx or Angus were sitting next to me right now, there'd be a dozen perfectly secluded places to pull off but—"
Her hand reached across, and she rubbed her fingers along my crotch.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I growled. "Ah ha, up ahead. Hold on. This might be a little bumpy."
Sutton squealed and braced her hand against the ceiling of the truck as the tires flew off a six inch ledge onto a rugged swath of dirt. A few angry shrubs grabbed at the truck as I plowed through them toward the quiet, secluded spot between two towering pines.
We both bounced a few good times, seat belts and all, until the truck came to a stop. Sutton laughed wildly as she threw herself over to the back seat. I tried the same but was just too fucking big. I climbed out. The wind that had blasted us off the soccer field was howling through the tall trees, throwing around autumn leaves and pelting me with dust and dirt until I torpedoed into the back. Sutton was already stripped down to her bra and panties.