Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (59 page)

"Oh, yeah?" I said. I hadn't pegged this sweet-looking and heavily pregnant woman as the wife of a biker. "I'll have to swing by the shop, take a look."

"Come on in," June said. "How long will you be staying?"

"Only for a few days, I think."

June chattered away as she took my credit card, one of the many fakes I owned, recommending some of the tourist attractions outside of town. She offered to give me a tour to the house, but I declined. "You know," I said. "I'm pretty tired and I have some work to do, so I'll be just fine hanging out in the room."

"Oh, what kind of work?" June pushed open the door to one of the bedrooms. "The bathroom is just inside there."

"I'm an attorney," I said. Or rather, Molly was an attorney. Molly McAdams was a motorcycle-riding entertainment lawyer from Los Angeles with a live-in boyfriend named Tyler and a cat named Alice. Molly was one of ten core identities I kept on rotation, whose details I knew like they were part of my own history, and who served me well.

"What kind of law do you practice?" June asked.

"Entertainment law," I said.

"Oh, that's interesting," she said. "I'm sure you've heard that West Bend has our very own movie star."

"I hadn't heard," I said absently. All I could think about was the fact that I wanted to get inside the room and rinse the dust from the road off me. The hotel I'd stayed in the night before, on the road from Vegas, hadn't exactly been the best and I felt grimy.

"We do," she said. "River Andrews. She does romantic comedies. She took up with Elias Saint, moved here to West Bend."

My heart raced at the name.
Damn it,
I thought. What the hell was with the Saint brothers being brought up at every turn? It was like fate was throwing my fling with Silas right in my face.

"Well," June said, leaning down to scoop up her toddler. "There’s coffee and tea in the kitchen - one of those brewers with the individual cups, so you can just help yourself. And there are some baked goods and fruit on the counter. If you haven't eaten dinner yet, I can recommend a few restaurants. And I usually put up a breakfast around nine in the dining room."

"That sounds fantastic, June," I said. "Between the coffee and the internet, I think I'll be all set until tomorrow."

"All right. That's easy enough," June said. "We're in the house next door if you need anything. The phone number is posted on the refrigerator."

As soon as the door closed, I slid my backpack off and unpacked, munching on a protein bar as I drew a bath. I sank into the tub, the warm water enveloping me, and laid my head back against the porcelain, closing my eyes.

I couldn't get the thought of Silas out of my head, the memory of our not-so-distant encounter.

Silas tracing his finger over my shoulder and down my arm as he sat in the tub, facing me. Silas, his face close to mine, his voice barely more than a whisper, sliding his fingers along my thigh and between my legs, then slipping them inside me on the balcony at the hotel restaurant. Silas looking up at me, his face between my legs as I lay on the piano.

Silas underneath me as I rode him, outside by the creek when we were seventeen. Silas, gripping my ass as he spun me in circles, my legs wrapped around his waist, after he won the state wrestling championship. Silas, his face close to mine as he moved inside me, telling me he would marry me someday.

It was like a damned replay, the highlights of my life. And now, being here in West Bend was making those memories even more vivid.

I reminded myself that what happened with Silas in Vegas was just a fling.

A fling I couldn't get out of my head.

Heat rushed through my body, but not from the water, and I found myself sliding my hand over my breasts, then down my stomach. I knew I should be putting thoughts of Silas out of my head, not indulging them.

Instead, I leaned my head back against the tub, and let the image of Silas dominate my thoughts, my hand moving between my legs, sliding over my clit again and again until I finally came. And when I crashed over the edge, Silas' face was the only thing I saw.

I
wasn't
sure how I felt, driving up to the house. I hadn't been back there since after the funeral, since I'd left with Elias to chase after River in Hollywood. Luke told me that we needed to head out to the place, clean it out and decide what to do with things. My mother had written out a will leaving everything to the four of us, dated a month before she died, another thing that made me suspicious. Since when was my mother responsible enough to write out a will in advance?

I wasn't buying it.

Still, I also wasn't sure what I was doing here. After all that my parents had done, spending any time giving a shit about whether they'd been murdered seemed like a bad investment of time. But I told myself it would take an hour and I'd satisfy my curiosity.

I could see I wasn't alone as soon as I got to the house. An unmarked white pickup truck was parked on the side. I contemplated going inside the house and getting the shotgun just in case, but decided against it.

It was probably just a utility guy, I told myself as I headed around back. Or some high school kids who knew the place was empty.

Instead, a man wearing an orange construction helmet loitered by the edge of the property, near the old blasting site. When he saw me, he immediately straightened, pulling a walkie-talkie from his waistband and speaking into it.

I was too far away to hear what he said.

"Hey!" I yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

A second man emerged from the entrance to the mine, and pulled out his cell phone as soon as he saw me. His back was toward me, but I could tell he was talking to the other guy.

I jogged toward them. "Do you have a reason to be out here? This is my property."

One of the men held up his hands. "We're surveyors, just taking a look at the land."

"So I guess you've got some identification that shows that, then? I asked. "Are you from the city or the county?"

The men looked at each other. "We're just doing a routine examination of the mine."

"Yeah, I understand that," I said. "So who exactly is your employer? And where's your identification? Pardon me if I don't exactly take kindly to strangers thinking they have free reign to poke around my private property."

They exchanged glances again.

Now I was starting to get pissed off.

"You've got two seconds to tell me what the hell you're doing here, and who exactly you work for, or I'm going to walk back to my house and get the shotgun my mother used to keep over the mantle here. How much do you want to bet it's still loaded?" I asked.

"Whoa, whoa," the first man said. He reached into his back pocket. "I'm just pulling out my wallet now. We're from the mining company."

"Who the hell gave you permission to come out here?" I asked, glancing at the identification he held up. "This is private fucking property."

"Don't shoot the damn messenger," the other one said. "We're just doing our jobs."

"Your job involves trespassing on private land?"

They didn't answer, just gathered their bags and began backing away from me. "We don't want any trouble," the first one said, holding up his hands again.

"Well, trouble is what you're about to get," I said. I took long strides toward the house. As far as I could remember, that shotgun was still over the mantle.

"Shit," I heard one of them say from behind me.

They'd better be running,
I thought. My mind was spinning as I approached the house. If I weren't paranoid about what was going it on in this town already, this would send up a few red flags. My theory about stuff going on in this town wasn't so crazy when people from the mining company started showing up on my property and poking around.

I stuck the key in the lock to the front door, but stopped when I heard the crunch of tires on the gravel in the driveway. As soon as I saw the Sheriff's car, the blood rushed to my head. I didn't even need to wait for the car door to open to know who was inside.

Jed Easton stepped out and ambled up the driveway like he had all the time in the world. I was regretting the fact that I'd taken the time to talk to the two guys outside, instead of getting my shotgun like I should have. "Are you here to arrest the two dickheads over there, the ones trespassing on my property?" I asked.

Jed didn't even glance at the two guys, who were busy getting into their truck. I heard the truck start, and shook my head. "No, I guess not. Are you in the pocket of the mining company, then?"

Jed smiled, looking at me from behind his mirrored sunglasses.

Fucking smug sonofabitch.

Jed had treated my family like shit for years, hassled me when I came back in town, the same way he'd done to Elias.

I didn't like the fucking guy.

"I don't think it's any of your business whose pocket I may or may not be in, Elias," Jed said. "Or is it Silas? I can't see your leg, so it's hard to tell. Well, you're not here with that white trash reality star girlfriend, so you can't be Elias."

"Do you have a girlfriend, Jed?" I asked. "Or do you just jerk off at night to pictures of your mother?"

Jed's face darkened. He slid up the mirrored sunglasses, and looked at me, his eyes flashing. "I'm going to ignore that," he said. "But that's the only warning I'm giving you."

"Warning?" I asked, laughing. "Or what? Will you take me down to the station for disrespecting that little Sheriff's badge you've got there? Or for implying that you’re a literal motherfucker? I'm not sure which part of that involves breaking the law."

Jed smiled, but the expression was sinister. "The two of us are the only ones out here right now. And I do believe that the men from the mining company can attest to the fact that you behaved in a threatening manner toward them. You should tread very carefully."

"Are you threatening me for making a comment about your momma?" I paused, my thoughts churning. I hadn't considered Jed being involved in all of this.

Until now.

There was just something about the way he showed up here so quickly, and the way he'd gone straight into menacing me. "No," I said. "That's not the reason, is it?"

Jed smiled again, the corners of his mouth pulled tight. "You and I are the only ones out here on the outskirts of town, Silas. The nearest house is what, a half mile away? There are no eyes on us. And I'm sure your mother's house has a few weapons inside. As I recall, your alcoholic father was a bit of a gun nut. I was always surprised that your mother ended up going out the way she did. I figured her for eventually getting her head blown off by your father, not swallowing a bottle of pills. But I guess you never know about people, do you?"

"Fuck you, Jed." I clenched my fists, stepping forward toward him. "You talk shit about my family, you talk shit about me. Why don't you take a shot at me like a real man?" I asked, immediately regretting my choice of phrase. The last thing I needed was to get shot by a trigger-happy cop.

As if on cue, Jed drew his weapon and pointed it at me. I stopped in my tracks, raising my hands in my air, barely able to speak through my rage. "So this is how it's going to be, Jed?" I asked. "You're going to shoot me, right here in the middle of my mother's front yard?"

"Keep your hands in the air where I can see them," Jed said. He stood, his weapon trained on me, unwavering. I wanted to fucking lunge at the guy and beat his ass into the ground, but instead I stood there, swallowing my anger.

"I'm not resisting, Jed," I said. "And you should think long and hard about whether you want
another
body on your hands." I looked at him meaningfully. I chose my words carefully, knowing I was implying he had something to do with my parents' deaths.

I wanted to gauge his reaction. I'm not sure what kind of reaction I expected.

He narrowed his eyes, still not moving, and I was sure he was contemplating shooting me. But he didn't ask what the hell I was talking about.

I didn't know the hell was going on here, just that whatever it was, Jed was up to his fucking eyeballs in it.

I was sure of that. I knew it in my gut.

When Jed finally moved, it was to circle around behind me. I braced myself, expecting that this was it for me. "Are you going to shoot me in the back, Jed?" I asked. "That seems about right for someone like you."

But instead of a shot, I heard him speak. "Down on the ground," he said. "Put your hands above your head."

"Are you fucking joking?"

"I said, get down on the fucking ground and assume the position," Jed said. "Or do you not understand the simple fact that I am the law around here?"

I laughed at the ridiculousness of his statement, but got down on my knees, then on my stomach. "You sound like a cartoon villain," I said. "You can't come up with anything more creative than, 'I am the law around these parts?'"

Jed ignored me, yanking one hand and then the other behind my back and attaching plastic ties to my wrists, pulling them tight enough that they cut into my skin. "Is that a comfortable fit for you?" he asked. "I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable. The sheriff’s office prides ourselves on our humane treatment of prisoners."

He yanked me up, laughing as he pushed me toward the police car and opened the door, shoving me inside.

"Fuck you, Jed," I spat.

He started the engine and slid his mirrored sunglasses back on his face. "I told you before, Saint," he said. "You and those brothers of yours should tread real carefully. It would be a good idea for you to get a fresh start somewhere outside of West Bend."

"If you think this is going to make me less curious about whatever the hell's going on here, you're fucking crazy," I said.

If I wasn't interested before, I was now.