Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“MORNING, MR. SULLIVAN,” I say with a wave as I walk into Sullivan’s Hardware two days after Charlie’s birthday fiasco. I don’t have to look at the old man to know he only offers a simple nod in return, which is more than he used to give me.
Sullivan’s Hardware is the main source of materials for a variety of things in Bezer, from construction materials to general household needs to DIY project supplies to farm necessities. You could walk in and find just about anything you were looking for. The first time I came in, Mr. Sullivan stood behind the counter, inputting the price of each item into the register (by hand), and was about to give me the total when Charlie appeared from the back. I was surprised to see her. What was she doing there?
“Mr. Sullivan, he’s with us,” Charlie said, setting the load in her arms on the counter. That’s when I noticed the apron tied around her waist and realized she worked at the hardware store. “This is Xavier. He’s helping Dad up at the ranch.”
Mr. Sullivan’s gaze narrowed on me before he rolled his eyes and walked away from the counter. He grumbled to himself the whole way back to his chair a few feet away.
“You’re good, Xavier. Anything you get here goes on the tab,” Charlie said, pushing the bag of smaller items forward. “Don’t mind him, he’s just an ol’ grump. It’s part of his charm. Ain’t that right, Mr. Sullivan?” Her question earned a grumble and huff from behind the newspaper in his hands.
But she was right. I have come to appreciate his grumpy charm.
Howard Sullivan is a quiet, reserved man who always has his nose in the newspaper—but not one of the mainstream ones. No, he refused to carry those papers filled with “unreliable bullshit,” as he put it when I asked him for a copy once. I hoped if I could get my hands on one, I could find something that would point me in the right direction, but Mr. Sullivan shot that idea down before it ever got off the ground. A few more stops around town proved everyone in Bezer felt the same way Mr. Sullivan did about the news. Not to mention, asking someone around here about a computer that isn’t from the ’00s might be a sin.
I stroll through the aisles, picking up a new pair of pliers and an oil filter for the truck before going out back to grab some barbed wire for the fence that needs to be repaired…again. This is the third time I’ve had to fix the same section of fence. Either I have no idea what I’m doing (a strong possibility) or someone doesn’t want it there. I think some sections need to be completely replaced and the fence will be fine, but Joseph refuses to let me do so. Says it’s not worth the hassle.
I’m surprised I haven’t seen Charlie yet. She usually makes her way out of the back by now when I come into the store. Then again, maybe she’s not working, but she wasn’t at home this morning when I left. Joseph didn’t seem too worried about it, so she must not be anywhere Cooper could get to her.
When he asked about our night out, I left the part about Cooper out of it. I wasn’t lying. Joseph didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell. I simply left it at:
Things were fine. (Things were fine until Cooper showed up.)
Charlie had fun. (Charlie did have fun until Cooper showed up.)
Her friends were nice . (And her friends were nice, even Jackson who almost spilled whatever secrets Charlie has been keeping.)
Mr. Sullivan glances over the counter, taking a quick inventory of the items I’ve collected, before grumbling to himself and sitting back in his chair.
“See you later, Mr. Sullivan,” I call over my shoulder and walk out the door, but this time he shoves his nose further into the paper. “See you ’round, Xavier,” I say, mimicking his nonexistent answer to my goodbye.
Loading up the truck takes less than two minutes and returning the cart to Sullivan’s takes one more minute, but I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings in those three minutes. One man walks around the back of the truck, and another walks toward me on the sidewalk. This one I recognize instantly: Cooper Hayes. He stops, toeing the sidewalk edge and blocking me in the space between my truck and the one next to me.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” the other man says, gnawing on a toothpick between his teeth. I can only assume this is his partner in crime, Dakota Johnson. Black ink creeps up his right arm disappearing underneath the sleeve of his gray T-shirt—intricate markings of some sort. His eyes, black and ominous, are hidden in the shade of the baseball cap on top of long black hair pulled into a bun at the base of his neck, matching the color of his full beard. He’s at least the same height as Cooper, maybe an inch or two shorter.
“Am I?” I look between them. I have nothing to defend myself with other than the keys in my hand. Everything else, including the gun Joseph gave me for emergencies, is inside the truck. Some good it’ll do me there. “Guess it didn’t stick.”
Cooper steps closer, sticking his finger into my chest and staring down at me. “We don’t like smartasses.” He towers over me by at least four inches, probably more. Despite the adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins and the little voice in my head screaming danger , I don’t back down.
“What a relief.” I scoff. “Neither do I.”
“We don’t like games either!” Cooper practically yells in my face. “We should take you out back and finish what we started back at Achor.”
Achor? What’s that?
“What’s stopping you?” I glance back at the other man and see him in the same spot, his hands draped over the edge of the truck bed, still gnawing on the sliver of wood between his teeth. “You boys don’t seem like the kind to care what the town has to say about you.”
Cooper starts to take a final step into me, but Dakota clears his throat. “Coop.”
Out of the corner of my eye, an SUV rolls to a stop behind my truck on the main drag. The window rolls down and I don’t have to look to know who is in the driver’s seat. “Mornin’, boys,” Chief Danny Sloan calls through the window. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“No problem, Sloan.” Dakota offers him a smile over his shoulder. “Just sayin’ hello to an old friend, that’s all.”
Sloan looks at me with a cocked brow. “You know these boys?”
“News to me,” I say, earning a laugh from the chief.
The door to Sullivan’s swings open with the ring of the bell, catching our attention. An older man I’ve never seen before walks out and cases the scene. His lanky frame and handlebar mustache underneath the white cowboy hat remind you of what a rugged cowboy in these parts should look like. “Everything okay out here?” his baritone voice rings out.
“Your boys are harassing our newest local, Red,” Sloan yells to the older man. Red …that’s the name I’ve heard Joseph and Bill Wyatt mention when talking about Cooper and Dakota before.
“Cooper Hayes!” Charlie comes barreling out of the hardware store not even a second later. “I told you to stop comin’ around here! How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through your thick skull? I am not going on a date with you. And if you don’t stop bothering Xavier, I’m gonna tell Daddy. I bet he’d love to know you’re still bothering our guests.”
Dakota rolls his eyes and steps away from my truck, shuffling around the back of the one parked next to me. Cooper isn’t as easy to give up. He stands his ground, fists clenched at his sides.
“C’mon, boys,” Red says with a deep chuckle. He tips his hat toward Sloan. “We don’t need any trouble ’round here. Let’s go.” Red offers me a tight smile and a curt nod, and something in those steely blue eyes sends a shiver down my spine.
“This isn’t over Xavier ,” Cooper says as Red plants a hand on his shoulder, directing him away. Dakota is already ahead of them on the sidewalk. It would seem this fight is over…for now. I don’t think this will be the last time I see them. And now, thanks to Charlie, they know where I’m staying. The thought of them showing up at the ranch settles a heavy weight in my stomach.
“Xavier,” Sloan calls, interrupting my thoughts. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from those boys, huh? Nothing but trouble. You too, Charlie!”
“Yeah, yeah, Danny,” Charlie says, waving him off.
“Wouldn’t want your daddy knowin’ ’bout this, would ya?”
Charlie’s head whips back around to him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Only if you promise not to get involved with him again.”
“I swear on my mother’s grave, I am not getting involved with the likes of Cooper Hayes again.” Charlie’s eyes meet mine for a brief second, her tongue poking out to wet her lips when she looks away. “He’s following me, Danny. Just ask Xavier.”
“Well, maybe you should tell your daddy, then. He’s ’bout the only one Coop listens to besides ol’ Red.” Sloan puts the SUV into gear and begins to slowly roll forward. “Just stay away from ’em, yeah?”