Read Breaking Even Online

Authors: Lily Bishop

Breaking Even (8 page)

“Night, Ric.”

She had her answer. She wasn’t supposed to
do anything.

Overtired and frustrated, Lindsey lay
beside Ric, listening to his deep, even, breathing. Her mind wouldn’t stop
racing, challenging her to figure out what she had done wrong. He had wanted
her—she knew enough about the male form to know that—but he hadn’t acted.

What on earth had gotten into Ben? She
knew stories from dorm life, girls who would hang a scarf on the door. In her
own bedroom, in her own house, a scarf shouldn't be necessary. Why had Ben
bothered them?

Lindsey thought back to things that Ric
had told her on the island. He had worried about her and at the time, she
thought he was exaggerating. According to him, protecting her from Vaughn Bruce
was the main reason he had locked her in the tower suite. But then, she
remembered him saying that his cousin had supplied Vaughn with the fake chips.

The more she thought about it, the worse
it seemed. She had also seen that man in Miami, but when she mentioned him to
Ric, he made her swear not to tell anyone what she had seen. Lindsey had
shrugged that off—how could she tell someone that she saw a random man in
Miami? That made no sense. But now, thinking about it, the man looked like Ric.
Was he part of Ric’s family?

Lindsey rolled over carefully in the bed,
not wanting to disturb Ric’s sleep. Even if the man in Miami was Ric’s family,
none of that mattered to her. Her heart knew Ric, and she trusted him with her
life. He would never let anything happen to her.

 

#

 

Ric woke up early with Lindsey half-sprawled all over
him. The cover had slipped off in the night, and she must have gotten cold with
the ceiling fan running. Her hand rested near his stiff morning erection.

He suppressed a groan and eased her off of
him with the care he would use to flip an egg over-easy. She mumbled something
and rolled over on her own, winding up on her stomach with her hair across her
face. He resisted the urge to rub her back. He wanted them to get up and get
moving before her roommate started stirring. Given Lindsey’s friendliness, she
would likely want them all to spend the day together.

He pulled on pants and a shirt, grabbed
his wallet and phone, and went out. Since Lindsey didn't have an alarm system,
he could go buy breakfast without having to wake her up. He remembered seeing a
fast food restaurant a few blocks from her house.

At the restaurant, he realized that he had
no idea what kind of biscuit she liked, so he bought three types. He would let
her pick and then eat the remaining two.

The night before, Ric had made the excuse
that he needed his phone charger, and he had gone back out to his car. The
truth was, he wanted to talk to Ben himself.

Ben followed him out on the porch and lit
a cigarette.

“I know who your family is,” Ben said,
skipping any pleasantries.

“And I know that you’re doing more than
tending bar. If you draw her into your world, my people will come after you.
And you won’t like the result.”

“Your people,” Ben scoffed. “My uncle
warned me about you. You’re nothing but a thug.”

“Did he warn you about me? Or about my
cousin? Because my cousin makes your uncle look like a choir boy.”

Ben took another draw on the cigarette.
“He said stay away from your family.”

Ric stepped towards Ben. He had half a
foot and several pounds of muscle on the boy and wasn’t above using a little
intimidation in his favor. “I suggest you do that. And so you know, Lindsey is
mine. Hurt her, and you’ll regret it.”

“I told her about you,” Ben said, looking
satisfied with himself.

At his limit, Ric pushed Ben up against
the wall, holding him there with one hand across his throat. The years of being
defined by Miguel rushed over him. “What did you say?”

“I told her to stay away from your family.”
Ben choked out the words. He pulled on Ric’s arm, trying to break the hold. Ric
didn’t let him go, rage pulsing through him. Disgusted, he let go and punched
Ben in the stomach. Ben doubled over, wheezing to get his breath.

Ric loomed over him. “I’m leaving tomorrow
afternoon. Until I leave, I don’t want to see you. Got it?”

Ben nodded, his face turning red. Finally,
he got his breath back and started coughing. Ric felt a pang of sympathy but he
pushed it aside. He hadn’t hit him that hard. Besides, the boy needed to know
that he meant business.

 
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Tunnel Vision

 

Lindsey
’s mind drifted in that shadowy place
between dreaming and waking. Images flashed through her mind like computer
slides in an endless lecture. She and Ric on the beach. Ric in the tower suite.
Their kiss at the airport.

At the airport, instead of the kiss, he
looked down at her and said, “I’d kill for you.”

“No,” she cried. “Don’t.”

The image changed. Crimson red stained
everything in the black and white dream, wet against her hands and face. Ric's
face and hands were covered in blood.

“What did you do?” he asked. She looked
down and her hands held a knife covered in blood. The realization that she had
stabbed him woke her screaming.

The door slapped open and Ric burst
through. “I heard you cry out. Are you okay?”

She sat up, disoriented. “Yes.” She ran a
shaky hand through her hair. “Bad dream.”

The sheets had tangled around her legs and
her face felt wet with tears. A dream. Relief swept through her, but the horror
lingered.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I went and got
breakfast. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

“Okay. I’ll be right out.”

Still shaky, Lindsey splashed cold water
on her face, trying to calm her racing heart. She took a deep breath, reminding
herself that the dream wasn’t real.

She found Ric serving breakfast in the
dining room. She found everything she loved—biscuits, hash-brown potatoes and
coffee.

 “You make me happy,” she said with a big
grin, loading her coffee with cream and sweetener. “What made you decide to
fetch food?”

He shrugged. “I woke up hungry and I
didn’t know what you had here. I remembered passing this restaurant on the way
in, so I thought I would surprise you."

She took a big bite of her biscuit. “This
is delicious.”

“It hits the spot after being up late. I
hate to tell you this, but my management staff at the resort called. There’s a
dignitary coming in tomorrow morning, so I have to go back tonight. So we just
have today, and then I need to drive back to Atlanta so I can fly home."

“Are you sure you have to go back so soon?
I was getting used to having you around.” His drop-in visit had surprised her,
but now it felt right to have him hanging around.

Ric smiled. “I’m afraid so. So what do you
want to do? Want to go up to that tunnel that your friend Whit talked about? We
could take a picnic.”

“I don’t know. I’m barely awake.” Lindsey
sipped on the coffee, thankful that horrid dream was receding. “I guess that’s
fine. We’ll have to go by a grocery store if you want to take a picnic. I
wonder where Ben is? It’s not like him to not leave a note.”

“I didn’t see him when I went out for
breakfast.”

Lindsey heard something odd in Ric’s
voice, but she didn’t pursue it. She had a feeling that Ric and Ben would never
be friends. She just had to keep them from killing each other.

 

#

 

After breakfast,
they stopped by the grocery store for picnic items, including a flashlight.
They purchased chicken from the deli, cold salads, chips, and drinks. She
pulled up a map on her phone and navigated as Ric drove.

True to Whit’s word, the drive took less
than an hour. They were on a major highway for a while, but then wound through
some country roads. At times, Lindsey thought they were in the middle of
nowhere.

“This is a pretty area. Lots of rolling
hills and lakes,” Ric said as he parked.

“It’s definitely a switch from Florida.”

They saw the signs leading to the tunnel
and parked in a gravel lot between the tunnel and the waterfall.

“Let’s go see half of a tunnel,” Ric said with
a grin.

It was almost lunch and already hot, the
kind of heat that took her breath away. When they stepped out of the
air-conditioned car, the heat rushed at them as if they had opened an oven. He
handed her one of the two bright orange Clemson caps that he had bought at the
grocery store. She had read in the on-line article that sometimes water dripped
from the ceiling.

By the time they walked the short path up
to the tunnel opening, Lindsey could feel her shirt sticking to her.

The tunnel itself appeared to be
unassuming. Lindsey looked up at the black hole surrounded by green vines
growing on the face of the rock. A few people milled around the area, but most
were either coming out of the tunnel or walking in. None of them looked the
worse for wear.

A cool breeze wafted out of the tunnel,
refreshingly cool in the September heat.

“I guess here goes nothing,” Lindsey said,
and they stepped into the damp blackness of the tunnel.

The tunnel’s atmosphere surrounded them
immediately, cutting off the outside world. Lindsey edged closer to Ric until
he took her hand. He shined the flashlight along the rock floor on small
puddles and bits of gray rock scattered in dark mud. The sound of water
dripping muffled the footsteps of the visitors farther ahead in the tunnel.

“Reminds me of the dungeon in the castle
where I grew up.”

“So not only did you grow up in a castle,
your family’s castle had a dungeon?”

“Didn’t everyone?” he said, laughing. “The
castle dates back to when the English and Spanish were fighting over the
Caribbean. We played escondelero in the dungeon hadn’t." He paused, trying
to think of the English version. “Hide and go seek.”

“With rock walls like this?” Lindsey could
see the scrapes on the hand-hewn walls of the tunnel.

“Brick, I think, some stone if I’m
remembering correctly. A packed dirt floor. Iron bars.”

A drop of water hit Lindsey’s shoulder and
she shuddered. “When I finally get to see your castle, I might skip that part
of the tour.”

After a short walk they reached the area
of the tunnel blocked by a locked iron gate.

“End of the road,” Ric said.

Lindsey looked up. The flashlight pointing
at the ground cast Ric’s face in shadow. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see
anyone behind them.

“No one has ever kissed me in a tunnel
before," she whispered.

“You haven’t?” He slipped his arms around
her and pulled her closer. “Well, I can fix that.”

One of his hands moved to her neck,
massaging with strong fingers. She shivered at the contact and pressed closer
to Ric, needing to feel him around her. On her tiptoes, she could just reach
his mouth. When he kissed her, she felt a shock wave from her lips to her toes.

Impatient, Lindsey pulled Ric’s head
farther down and took his lips the way she wanted them. She tugged on his lower
lip with her teeth, thrilled when he groaned.

He tilted her head back, and took the lead
with a deep kiss that stole her breath. The kiss she had wanted. The kiss she
had needed.

Time stopped. The cool air in the cave
contrasted against the searing heat of his skin. His woodsy scent replaced the
dank smell of the tunnel. She held on to his shoulders, trusting him to keep
them standing.

He pulled back before she did. “Not here,”
he said, pressing his forehead against hers.

Lindsey knew he was right, but still she
whimpered.

“Come, let’s go eat,” he said, his voice
deep and husky. He took her hand and they turned to leave the tunnel. He was
right—other people were close, coming up on them.

Outside, they found a shady picnic table
and unloaded the car. When she saw the wooden picnic table, Lindsey wished she
had bought a table cloth. They opened all the containers and pulled out the
paper plates and drinks.

“Funny, I don’t remember getting so much
food. What is this? Two kinds of cookies?”

He looked sheepish. “I thought you might
want something sweet after lunch. I couldn’t decide so I bought both.”

Lindsey laughed. “We’ll never eat all
this.”

“I know, but you’ll have some left for
dinner.” Ric took a bite out of the chicken breast. “This chicken is good, even
cold,” he said.

“I like their chicken, although one of
these days I’m going to learn how to fry my own. Mama made the best fried
chicken. I still don’t know how she did it. I think she steamed it part of the
time. The couple of times I’ve tried it, I couldn’t get the batter right.”

“We didn’t eat a lot of fried chicken in
Venezuela.”

“You poor, disadvantaged boy!” she said,
teasing. “Are you sure you have to leave? Couldn’t you fly out early tomorrow
morning?”

“No, there’s not enough time. I told the
pilot I want to fly out at seven, and I need to drop the car by my house and
call a taxi. When we get back, it will be time for me to leave.”

“I hate it you have to go.” Lindsey
understood, but that didn’t meant that she had to be happy about it.

“I know. But we’ll have more time when you
come back to Calliope. Are you still coming the week of fall break?”

“That’s the plan. If you’ll have me.”

He smiled. “I can’t think of anything I
would like better.”

For her part, Lindsey didn’t taste a
thing. She ate, but everything seemed bland. Had she done something to make Ric
want to leave earlier than he had planned? He had said that the resort had
called him back, but was that the truth? Or had he decided to cut his losses
and leave early?

After they packed away the picnic items,
they walked over to Issaqueena Falls. The waterfall rose above the forest and
the sound of the rushing water called to them. Lindsey took a few pictures, and
they found another park visitor to take a picture of the two of them.

“So the story goes that the Indian maiden
hid behind the water?” Lindsey asked.

“That’s what the website said.”

“But why?” Lindsey couldn’t even imagine
climbing that waterfall.

“She warned the settlers that the Indian
war party was about to attack. Her people were looking for her."

“And then what happened?”

“She returned to live with the settlers.
Of course, it’s all legend.”

“You don’t know. It might be a true story,”
Lindsey said, playing devil’s advocate.

He squeezed her shoulders. “Could be.”

Once they were in the car, Lindsey’s mind
wandered back to the fact that he was leaving.

“I didn’t do something to make you want to
leave early, did I?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop
them.

Ric smiled. “No, of course not. Sometimes
the resort can as demanding as a jealous woman.” Lindsey lifted her eyebrows
and Ric backtracked. “You know what I mean. I’m married to the job and all.”

“Then I guess that would make me the other
woman,” Lindsey said, trying to make light of the issue.

“Lindsey, I just have to go back to work.
It's nothing you did. I promise. I will see you soon."

 

#

 

Lindsey watched
Ric pull away from her house with a lump in her throat. She would miss him. It
would be six weeks before she could see him again if she waited until fall
break. The idea of not seeing him for that long made her want to look at her
schedule and try to find a way to fly down sooner.

Ben didn’t come home at all that day.
Lindsey spent Labor Day cleaning and doing course work, wondering where Ben
was.

Fox called after dinner.

“Have you been in Ben’s room lately?” he
asked without much of a preamble.

“No, why?”

“When I was checking windows, I noticed
certain … stuff in his room.” Fox sounded awkward.

“What do you mean stuff?”

“Pipes. Rolling papers. You name it. He
had a pretty heavy green camouflage duffel bag in his closet, and it had a
padlock on it. The bag reeked of pot. Are you sure he’s not dealing?”

Lindsey frowned. She couldn’t imagine Ben
dealing drugs. “Are you sure? He told me he wrapped his own clove cigarettes.
He said that’s what the smell was.”

“Trust me. It’s pot. I’m surprised you
didn’t recognize the smell.”

“I don’t know what Laura told you about
me, but I never hung out with people who did pot. I was too busy studying.”

“Or they were good at hiding it,” Fox
countered. “You might want to talk to him about it. I don’t know that you want
pot in your house.”

She sighed. “I will. Thanks for not
telling Laura. She wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right, but I wouldn’t let it go
much longer.”

Lindsey finished cleaning up and camped
out on the sofa in front of the television. She found a cooking show marathon
and settled in to wait.

Lindsey jumped awake after hearing keys
rattling on the other side of the door. She must have dozed off. She glanced at
the clock on the television. It was after two in the morning.

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