Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Moana Kahale lifted her cell from her purse and stared at the text messages, her heart thumping in her throat like a jackhammer. She never told him she’d left Nashville. It wasn’t any of his business. He wasn’t a part of her life. He’d barely even been her friend. At least not the way he’d believed.
And now he was sending her messages saying he was there for her? That he would have gone with her and that he was worried?
About what?
What the hell did he know about her life?
Rosco: When are you returning? I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. But that’s what I’m here for. I can help. I want to help. Call me. Anytime. I’m worried about you. I know what going back there does to you. I would have gone with you.
She wondered if he knew she’d quit her job and moved. It’s not like she’d made some big public announcement. And she certainly didn’t tell him. No, she quietly slipped away.
A very tiny part had been because of him.
Creeper.
But mostly, she’d moved back to Big Island because of her freaking dysfunctional, lying-ass family. No matter how much she’d wanted to tell her mother to go fuck herself, she couldn’t. Deep down, she loved her parents with her whole entire heart. She was tired of the fighting. Tired of the constant late-night phone calls about her sister, who wasn’t really her sister after all. What a shocker that revelation had been. Moana had never questioned being sixteen years younger than Kalena. Her parents used to joke about how Moana had been such a blessing, even though she’d been unplanned and they’d been forty when they had her.
Only, her mother had never given birth to her. That honor had gone to her sister.
Her phone buzzed again.
Rosco: I hope you didn’t go back for some man. Or old boyfriend. That wouldn’t be cool. Not with what we’ve shared. But I won’t dwell on that. I’ll be here. I know you have a gig coming up. Lean on me. That’s what I’m here for.
What the fuck? What the hell was this jerk talking about now? God, he could be so weird.
“What put that scowl on your face?” Emery leaned against the bar and tilted her head. “Family? Or is it that asshole Rosco again?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Give me that.” Emery snatched her cell before she could lock the screen and toss it back into her bag. Emery slipped her finger across the messages. “I told you to block him and also change your number.”
“I can’t go through the hassle of changing mine. Not right now. My sister has decided to go off the rails, although she does this all the time and it’s getting old. But if she reaches out, it would be to this number. And all the people I deal with in Nashville have this one. It would be a massive nightmare. Besides, he’s just a lonely weirdo and it’s not like he’s going to follow me out here.”
“Seriously? Are you going to make me lecture you for the millionth time on safety? This guy’s a nutjob and he’s saying creepy things as if he knows intimate details of your life.”
“I’ve dealt with men like him before. He’s been following me around Nashville like a sick puppy for a solid year. He’s done nothing but send me flowers, chocolate, teddy bears, and weird texts. He’s harmless. He’ll give up now that I’m gone.”
“Right, because that text screams he’s getting over you. That’s going to happen right about the same time I stop carrying a gun wherever I go. You should have filed a restraining order like I told you to.”
“For what? Coming to a public café and watching me perform my songs? Do you have any idea how many people do that regularly? Producers. Record label executives. Singers. They all come to hear songwriters and weed out the good stuff. Or find talented people to work with. How the hell do you think I sold my first song?”
“And how many of those people send you random texts? Show up at odd times. Act like they have some weird-ass claim over you?”
Moana let out a long breath. She knew her friend had the best of intentions and only wanted to protect her, which she totally appreciated. “I get it. Really, I do. But I’m here, and he’s smack-dab in the middle of the country. I have nothing to worry about.”
Emery’s brow curved. “According to that text I read, I’m not so sure about that.”
God, Moana hated that look. It only served to remind her that Emery was a cop. She’d always been a badass and bossy, whereas Moana was a little more reserved. Emery pushed boundaries. Moana, for most of her life, did what she was told.
That was until she found out her sister was her biological mother and her entire fucking family had been lying to her for years. Right after college, she said a big fuck you to the family, boarded a plane, and tried not to look back.
Unfortunately, cutting ties to people, especially blood, didn’t come naturally.
“Not to mention Dahlia told me you’re returning to Nashville in two days. Alone! Are you going to lie to me about that?”
“No,” Moana said.
“Cancel.”
“I can’t. I need the money. My family needs the money. Not to mention this is my career.”
“If I could take time off work and go with you, I would.”
“I’ll be fine. I land at eleven at night. I’m not even staying at my apartment, which I haven’t sublet because I didn’t see the point with only two months left on that lease. I’ve got a room at a nice plushy hotel downtown that has security. Besides, Jaden will most likely be around since he’s my manager’s husband. You remember Jaden, right? Works for the Brotherhood Protectors.”
“Oh, so not the point. Have you called Jaden?”
“I will,” Moana said. “I have one meeting. I’ll sing my sets. Then I board a seven a.m. flight the next morning. In and out. Easy-peasy.”
“You’re a smart woman, so I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. He’ll know you’re there. It will be listed on the Little Town Café website. There will be flyers. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’ve built a name for yourself. People know who you are and they will want to see you, and Jaden is but one man. A good man, and he carries a gun, so kudos to him, but what if he’s on an assignment? Because if you haven’t spoken to him, you have no idea where in the world he will be.”
“Oh, please. I don’t have fans.” Moana waved her hand in the air, ignoring the rest of that rant. “What I do have is country singers and their managers who want to buy the songs I write.”
Emery grabbed her by the hand and dragged her across the dance floor.
“Stop that.” Moana tried to tug her hand free, but damn, Emery was strong.
Emery stopped at the table where Bowie and two of his friends were sitting. Wonderful.
Moana smiled weakly at Bowie.
He was a tall drink of something with a thick frame. His skin looked as though it was always tan. He had dark hair and smoldering eyes that she could get lost in.
Almost every time she saw him, she told herself she wouldn’t give him the time of day. Turning him down the first time was easy. She turned down everyone. If they were serious, they’d ask a second time. But she had so much shit on her plate right now, she didn’t have time for a boyfriend, much less anything else.
But this man didn’t give up easily, though he wasn’t anything like creepy Rosco.
No. Bowie was kind. Respectful. He didn’t show up anywhere besides this bar and always with his friends.
However, he was certainly chipping away at her resolve, that was for damn sure.
And he was so much fun to talk to and that was the biggest problem of all. Every damn time she saw him, she entertained a drink and a conversation.
Hell, Mia once joked they might as well already be dating.
Moana didn’t find that funny, only it was kind of true.
“Hey, fellas,” Emery said. “Mind talking some sense into this one? She doesn’t seem to want to listen to her best friend, who happens to be a cop, who deals with this shit all the time. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“What’s the problem?” Bowie asked, leaning forward, resting his arms on the table, catching her gaze with those killer dark-brown eyes.
A woman would have to be dead not to notice this man.
“Look at this text string.” Emery shoved Moana’s cell in Bowie’s face.
“Hey. That’s mine and it’s private.” Moana reached out, waving her hands in the air like a damn bird.
Both of Bowie’s brows shot up. He glanced between the phone, Emery, and Moana. “I can’t. It’s locked.”
Emery held it up to Moana’s face. “Not anymore.”
“Moana?” Bowie took the phone. “Do you want me to look at this?”
“Not really.” She pursed her lips. “Emery’s making a big deal about nothing.”
Flint glanced over Bowie’s shoulder. “Damn,” he whispered. “Is this person local?”
“No. He lives in Nashville,” Moana said.
“And she’s going there in two days.” Emery wiggled two fingers. “Alone.”
Bowie had the gall to scroll the texts. And not just the last few. She should have deleted them, but the one time she did talk to a police officer, he suggested keeping them just in case things escalated.
That was three months ago.
And that cop had spoken to Rosco, suggesting he keep a safe distance, or Moana would be well within her rights to file a restraining order.
Rosco did leave her alone for three glorious weeks.
But then it all started again. However, she let it go because she’d made the decision to move back to Hawaii.
Moana cringed as she studied Bowie’s facial expressions, which didn’t give away much. An arched brow here. A little curve of part of his lip there. A shake of his head.
God, he had to have seen it based on the amount of time he stared at her phone.
He let out a long breath, handing the cell to Quinn. “You definitely shouldn’t go to Nashville alone. Do you have a friend or a family member who can go with you?”
“No. My mom has to stay and help with my dad. Emery’s working and so is Dahlia.”
“And Mia’s too busy with Carter.” Flint chuckled. “But from what I read of those messages, that guy who’s been texting you is a weirdo. Some of the things he said came off like threats.”
“I agree,” Quinn said. “He goes back and forth wanting to be there for you. Acting as if he’s your best friend. When you don’t respond, he gets mad, asking you why you’re not responding.”
“Those last couple concern me,” Bowie said. “It implies you were or are in a relationship with him, and then he also asks if you came back here for a man. It’s quite passive-aggressive.” He stood, pulling back a chair right next to him, offering it to her.
Then he did it for Emery, who just laughed.
“Do you have to go to Nashville?” Flint asked.
“I do.” Moana took the beer that Bowie handed her and sipped. “I have a few new songs to sell and my folks need the money.”
Bowie nodded, as if he understood. But he didn’t and she knew that for a fact. She’d grown up on this island. While she was younger than Waylen and Presley, she’d known who they were. She grew up not far from the marina where Presley’s parents kept their tour boats. Her parents still lived in that house. Since returning, she’d gotten to know Presley and Waylen a lot better, and she knew Waylen and Bowie had gone to the Naval Academy at the same time, a few grades apart, but Waylen had told her a few things about the man.
Which had made it a little harder for her to say no to going out with him simply because he had a normal upbringing. A normal family. Well, as normal as any family could be.
“Maybe I could go with you.” Bowie reached in his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’d need to clear it, not only with my CO but also with Waylen and Hawk.”
Quinn pounded his chest and coughed.
Flint chuckled, shaking his head.
Though she had no idea why that was funny.
She was mortified.
“That’s so not necessary and I beg you to put that phone down.” She curled her fingers around his biceps.
What a mistake that was.
The muscle was solid. Thick. And twitched under her touch while her skin melted like the lava spewing from Kilauea.
He stood, pressing the phone to one ear, his finger in the other. “Hey, Hawk. I’m going to make this a four-way with Waylen and Castle. Do you mind?” A couple of seconds ticked by and he nodded, then tapped his cell.
“This is ridiculous.” Moana chugged her beer. “Interrupt him and tell him to have them check with the Montana office about whether or not Jaden will be there.”
“Having more than one person on your six isn’t a bad idea. It’s what these guys do day in and day out.” Emery rested her hand on her shoulder. “Maybe the guy’s harmless and we’re all overreacting. If that’s case, okay. But why tempt fate?”
“If he gets Castle and Hawk to sign off on this, I’m going to be jealous. I love Nashville,” Flint said.
“Yeah, but just think. Without him, maybe we won’t have so many hoops to jump through during field exercises.” Quinn cocked his head. “I get Waylen is the best IT geek here, but Waylen and Bowie in one room? It’s been a freaking nightmare.”
“Good point.” Flint clanked his glass against Quinn’s.
Moana had no idea what any of that meant, and she didn’t care. She focused on Bowie, who had his back to her, wishing she could protest a little louder. A little stronger.
But the truth of the matter was she had thought about canceling. Or asking to do a Zoom call, using her father’s illness as an excuse. Anything not to see that dipshit Rosco ever again. She knew she’d have to return to Nashville at some point. She had furniture and clothes still in her apartment.
She also had a few other loose ends to tie up.
But those could wait a month.
Or two.
But putting a little extra money in her parents’ pockets for medical bills? That couldn’t wait.
Bowie turned, tucking his cell in his jeans pocket. “Looks like you got yourself a travel buddy.” He looped his arm over the back of her chair.
She sighed. She wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or something else. Didn’t matter. “Thank you. I think.”
“I’m a little shocked you pulled that off.” Flint stared at his buddy.
“Me too,” Quinn said. “What did you say?”
“I told them the situation. Gave them the lowdown on the texts, but I didn’t mention Moana’s name. At first, Castle was a hard no. But once I told Hawk and Waylen who was involved, I didn’t have to say another word. It was get your ass on a plane and report back .” Bowie waggled his finger. “I’m also supposed to help you find your sister.”
Moana dropped her head to the table and groaned. “I’m never going to sing with Waylen again. Ever.”