Young Buck: A Slow Burn Small Town Romance (Green Valley Heroes Book 5)

Chapter 10

Running wasn’t something that most people did at one in the morning. Those people didn’t work the hours I did. In July in the South, middle-of-the-night runs were a blessing. Afternoons were hot and muggy and forced me to wear clothes I didn’t like to run in, like glasses and hats. Shorts and short sleeves meant mosquito bites.

But nights were cool enough for long sleeves and lightweight pants. There was something peaceful about being alone in the dark. This week’s runs had been fast—minutes of sustained sprints that pushed my body to its limit. Running like this may have hurt, but it wasn’t greater than the pain of a betrayal.

You did what you had to do to protect your son. Now I’m doing what I have to do, to protect mine.

That one statement summed up my family dynamic. I had always somehow belonged to my mother. And Trevor had always somehow belonged to my dad.

There were troubling layers to all of it. Having sons in the South was still a source of pride. Logic would dictate that my own father put some of that pride onto me, his firstborn. But it was Trevor who had always been the apple of his eye.

It was impossible to know why. My own hurt colored my perspective. I had virtually no memories of life without Trev. At only eighteen months older than him, I couldn’t remember a time when he, or this, wasn’t there.

The next question was obvious: was Rex Rogers my father? Was the timing of my birth suspicious? If I wasn’t his biological child, it would explain a lot. But that, too, seemed impossible. I was the spitting image of him. Dozens of strangers had approached me over the years, ready with shoulder claps and handshakes, saying things like, “You must be Rex Rogers’ kid.”

Trevor, on the other hand, had always taken after my mother. The resemblances were as clear as day. Overhearing what my parents said unearthed my sense that nature had gotten it backwards. It dredged up decades of hard truths and bad feelings. It confirmed that something in my family was very wrong.

So what do I do with that?

Option one was to confront them, but my father had a way of shutting things down. He’d sweep me aside, just like he’d done to my mother.

You can’t let him win. Not this time. Not if he’s got Momma under his thumb.

If I wanted the truth, I had to play it smart. The people I knew who could get me what I wanted were already in my father’s pocket.

With one exception . . .

A vision of her face appeared in my mind the moment I turned onto our street. Loretta was a private investigator. And not just any investigator. A woman on the right side of right. A woman who couldn’t possibly know my father, given her dealings with wronged women. Lately, it wasn’t just the loveliness of her face that had taken up space in my mind. It was my recollection of the fierce protection in her eyes when she realized I’d found her out.

I’d only meant to rib her about it—to make a little light—to warm things up between us since our other interactions had been strange. The woman had hit me with a Taser and apology-baked for me twice. And even after I’d caught her in a dead faint and graciously forgiven her for the role she’d played in saddling me with that awful nickname, she hadn’t hesitated to tell me off when she’d thought I was threatening her friends.

She’s the only one who can help me.

Loretta knew all about relationships and secrets, about infidelity and lies. She was a defender of women in danger, and women married to controlling men. I knew both logically and instinctively that I could trust her. She had the one thing that couldn’t be beaten by politics: Loretta Boggs had principles.

By now, I should have been cooling down, slowing to a jog or a walk, catching my breath before I made to go back in my house. Instead, I kept my run steady. I no longer had my sights set on my own door, but on Loretta’s.

Not that I kept tabs on her, but I was fairly certain she was home. I’d seen her in the garden earlier, and her lights were on. I knocked.

“Loretta, it’s Buck.”

Announcing myself upfront was a courtesy that seemed right given the hour. Half a minute later, I heard footsteps.

“Buck?” She swung the door open, looking alarmed and surprised.

“Loretta.” I was still catching my breath.

“Buck,” she repeated. “Is everything okay?”

I didn’t want to answer with the same lie I’d given at the firehouse. Everyone on the team had sensed my bad mood. Even Louie had cut his usual shit and walked a wide berth around me. But I didn’t want to lie to Loretta, or sugarcoat things, or make them sound diplomatic.

“No. It’s not.”

I didn’t mean to be cryptic. It didn’t help that I was still out of breath, and hadn’t admitted any of my theories out loud. It didn’t help that I hadn’t planned any of this and was simmering with emotions.

It wasn’t until she leaned past me, looking out her own door to the left and the right down the street that I realized just how late I’d intruded upon her. She seemed vigilant as she surveyed our dark street for a few seconds before pulling me into her house with the hand that wasn’t clasping together the lapels of her black silken robe.

“Is somebody after you?” She shut and locked the door.

I shook my head. “No, nothing like that. I’m here ’cause I need your help. And, pardon the hour, but it seemed like you were up.”

“Okay...” She appeared to relax a little, though her hand still clasped her lapels. It caused me to question whether she felt safe around me. Instinctively, I took two steps back.

“The first thing you need to know,” I began haltingly, “is that I meant what I said about respecting the privacy of whatever I saw. I went to the station the next day and got all that talk shut down. As far as they’re concerned, that case is closed and I will actively dispel any rumors I hear.”

Loretta just stared at me, wide-eyed, and repeated another “okay,” this one even slower and more drawn-out than the last.

“But I’m in a bad situation,” I continued. “And I can’t pretend that I don’t know that you help people in bad relationships and that you moonlight as a private investigator. Especially since I find myself in need of one.”

“That’s a fancy theory,” she replied, but didn’t outright deny it. “What makes you so sure?”

“Nobody told me, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just—” I let out a labored sigh, at a loss for how to explain my ability to piece things together so quickly. “I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”

I didn’t tell her about the clues. Sharing my observations would have made me sound creepy. But I’d noticed the odd hours she kept and the fact that she always seemed to be rotating through different cars. The latter couldn’t be explained away by being a police assistant. The Taser was also a dead giveaway. Green Valley was a safe town. Why carry one unless you might have occasion to use it?

“If you’re so good at figuring things out, then why do you need me?”

“Because I’m too close to the thing I’m supposed to be investigating,” I admitted. “And I’ve lost all perspective.”

“There are hundreds of private investigators,” she pointed out. “I could refer you to a few.”

“Not any who live next door. Not who are as discreet as you are. And not who owe me a favor.”

She finally unclutched the lapels of her robe and crossed her arms in front of her chest. But when someone threatened something I loved, I could get just as fierce as her.

“Suppose I did do private investigation,” she hedged. “Which I’m not saying that I do—your job is out of my wheelhouse. I’ve never even worked with a man.”

“It’s true, I’d be the one hiring you. But it’s my mom I’m worried about. I need to know why my dad is forcing her to lie.”

“Lie about what?”

Why was it so hard for me to say out loud?

“Something that has to do with me.”

She gave me a look that told me I’d have to do better than that.

“‘You did what you had to do to take care of your son. Now, I’m gonna do what I have to, to take care of mine.’ That’s what I overheard him say to her.”

Loretta’s eyes softened in understanding. “You think you might not be your father’s son.”

I nodded. It had cost me something to repeat what I’d heard.

Loretta let out a long sigh and looked at something past my shoulder, shaking her head slightly as she did.

“This might not end how you think it will end. Sometimes, people have their reasons.”

I tried to keep my breathing even as she pled her case.

“My father isn’t most people. He’s—” I came short of using the word dangerous to describe him. “He’s a man who gets what he wants.”

She didn’t say yes, but she also hadn’t said no. Sensing that I was either close to convincing her or close to losing her altogether, I entered in my final plea.

“Look. I know we keep meeting under strange circumstances. I know I just keep appearing in your life. And maybe for you, that makes things weird. Trust me when I tell you, if I had other options, I wouldn’t impose. But this is my momma we’re talking about. And if groveling to you means helping her, begging doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I’d do.”

She shook her head again, her gaze darting back to some point beyond my shoulder. She still looked like she didn’t want to do it. But something inside her had softened.

“Alright,” she acquiesced. “I’ll help you help your momma. When do we need to start?”