Chapter 2
Chapter Two
CALLIE
Shit. Shit. Shit. I broke into an art studio and stole all the paintings.
Is it stealing if they’re all mine, though?
I can’t get in trouble for taking my own art, right?
The working space I shared with Theo holds a lot of complicated memories.
While I was terrified he’d show up, I had to go get the rest of my paintings—the ones that he didn’t have at the gallery show—before he tried to make more money off of my hard work.
I’m great at running. It’s only fitting that this time instead of fleeing from Big Ridge, I’m rushing toward it, seeking safety from the life I created over the last ten years in the city.
The first few years were okay, but everything changed when I met fucking Theo. At first, he was everything I thought I wanted until his truth started to show. Turns out he’s controlling. Mean. And a rotten fucking liar and a fake.
Scoffing to myself, I notice my below empty tank as the Fill Ups 66 station comes into view as I round another curve.
How Larry, the creepy owner, never got sued for that name is still beyond me.
The S at the end of the worn sign is crooked and the orange and red paint that was once vibrant on each letter is barely visible now.
I park at the pump, stomach fluttering. Wonderful, I haven’t even made it all the way to town and I’m already nervous.
It’s been a long time, and the last thing everyone remembers about me, well.
I don’t want to think about it. Grabbing my purse, I climb out of my air-conditioned SUV and into the oppressive mid-morning summer heat, eyeing the familiar surrounding mountains.
It’s nearing my favorite time of year for living in the Smoky Mountains as far as scenery goes, but to get to fall, I have to suffer through summer tourist season.
Normally I hate all the people, but I’m hoping the rush will make it easy to get a job.
I start the gas pump, ignore the sign posted that says not to leave the pump running, and head inside.
The bell overhead jingles as I enter. Fill Ups 66 hasn’t changed one bit. The rack holding the chips is lopsided, and the worn gray and white linoleum is covered in a film from years of use that no industrial cleaner can erase.
“Hey there, sweet stuff. Can I help you find something?”
I glance behind the counter where Larry is grinning, his missing tooth front and center as he takes his time checking me out.
I know I’ve been gone for a long time, but I can’t have changed that much?
My hair is a lot longer, still the same rich shade of brunette that looks a little red in the sun.
Other than that, I think I look pretty much the same.
Older, but I’m twenty-eight, not 60. Maybe it’s the sunglasses.
Larry leans back and looks out of the dirty window. “Are you out here all by yourself?”
“Yup,” I say, biting back a smile as I grab a lemonade and a bag of chips.
Larry’s gaze is far too focused on my tits as I place my things on the counter.
What a dick. Pushing my sunglasses up, I lift an eyebrow.
“Is this how you treat the tourists? No wonder everyone goes to Reggie’s Gas ’n Go.
” It was too far in town for me though. Driving is absolutely hellish this time of year, and I would have wound up hitting empty in the middle of a traffic jam.
He rears back, narrows his eyes, and looks me over again. “Callie Mae?”
“The one and only. Are you going to ring me up or do you want to keep staring at my boobs?”
His eyebrows draw down. “I never liked you.”
“I guess the feeling’s mutual,” I drawl, tossing a pack of gum next to the chips. “But I’m a paying customer.” And it certainly looks like he needs the money.
He scoffs. “That’s a first.”
Blinking, I shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
” Turns out, I’m a filthy fucking liar too.
So maybe there’s a pattern of theft in my past, but I had good reason.
One, Larry was always mean, and I considered petty theft payback.
As far as stealing from Theo. . . well, that technically doesn’t count.
He glares at me and rings me up, tapping the buttons on his machine a little too hard. “Eight seventy-five.”
If you ask me, he’s a little old to be holding a grudge. I pull out my credit card and have to insert it since Larry hasn’t upgraded to the latest and greatest checkout technology. The silence between us is uncomfortable as we wait for the payment to process.
The words on the screen change, and I exhale, yanking my card out and grabbing for my things.
“Uh-uh. Not so fast, missy.” His hands slap over my items.
“I paid,” I say, scowling at him.
“It says your card was declined.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Try again.”
Declined? That’s weird. I just made a payment. I’ll check the app later. Taking out my next card, I repeat the payment process, carefully watching the screen. This one is declined as well. Frowning, I try my emergency credit card to check if the same thing happens.
DECLINED.
My face scrunches. “What the hell?” I rarely use this card. There shouldn’t even be a balance on it.
“If you can’t pay, you should go.”
“Relax, I’ll use my debit card.”
“If it’ll work,” he mutters.
I gesture to the window. “I used it to pay for the gas.”
He makes a noise and watches me with laser focus as I insert my card. Luckily, this one goes through.
“Does your mama know about your debt?”
“I don’t have debt,” I snap. “There’s a problem with the cards.” It’s probably Larry’s system. I tell myself, but unease still swims in my gut.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He pushes the snacks toward me. “Next time, use a different gas station.”
Arguing with the old grump is pointless. My gaze catches on a container of sour candies. Steal it for old times’ sake. My fingers twitch. I casually pick up my snacks, smile sweetly at Larry, and snatch the candies.
“Not so fast, you little shit!” He shoves a gun in my face.
I leap back. Damn my intrusive thoughts. “Larry!”
“Put the candies down, and no one gets hurt.”
“This is a little dramatic, don’t you think?” I edge toward the door. “I was going to pay for these too!”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the times you and the Williams brothers stole from me!”
My stomach flips at the mention of the brothers. “We were kids.” I take another step back.
The vein in his forehead bulges. He fires a shot.
I scream, heart threatening to jump out of my chest. Luckily, the bullet goes wide and hits a bag of chips.
Either he sucks or he’s trying to scare me.
He’s doing a damn good job of the latter.
I throw the sour candies at him before racing out of the store. I yank the pump out of my car.
He runs out, gun in hand, the fucking psycho. There are cars zipping by, but I don’t trust him not to fire.
“This isn’t over!” he screams.
“Fuck you, Larry!” I hop in my Rav-4 and peel out of the parking lot.
I steady my racing heart then take a deep breath before chuckling to myself.
Jesus Christ, this place is already bad news.
I head into the heart of town, already bracing for the rumor mill.
In a place like this, news—especially the bad kind—travels faster than light.
By sundown, everyone in town will know I came crawling home with maxed out credit cards and already picked a fight with Larry.
Coming back is quickly turning into a disaster, but Big Ridge is the only place that makes sense. The only place, despite all the gossip and craziness, that I’ll feel safe.
The mountain road curves and winds around slopes covered in tall trees fighting for their life against the Virginia creeper. The vines crawl up the trunks, coil around the branches, slowly choking the life out of the trees. Kind of like Theo did to me.
I tap my finger as I wait for the procession of cars to move forward, counting as many as I can, grounding myself in the moment and not in the past. It would be easier to forget everything if I wasn’t stuck in barely moving traffic.
Tourist season means a typical five-minute trip could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour or more.
Depends on how stupid people from the city drive on the treacherous mountain roads.
Most are overly cautious and that’s almost worse than them driving fast.
Nothing like plowing into the back of an SUV going fifteen in a forty-five.
“Come on,” I grumble as the sign for Maura’s place comes into view.
I need a job and fast. Not only did Theo steal my art, but he also racked up debt on all my credit cards.
Something I didn’t realize until five minutes ago when traffic came to a complete halt and I had time to check my banking apps.
Somewhere between me leaving New York and reaching the Smoky Mountains, he decided to royal fuck me over.
Charge after charge that I didn’t make. Shopping, payments to his friends, porn site charges. I stupidly programmed my cards into his phone because it was easier if he had access to them. I forgot all about that in my rush to leave NYC. I really hope Theo gets crushed by a falling piano.
God, I was so dumb. Yeah, he was hot, but I let him strip me of my identity and use me all because I was so desperate to belong to someone, to have that same sort of bond I had with the Williams brothers before everything went to hell.
The traffic surges forward, and I follow, jerking the wheel to the right and pulling into the parking lot.
I get out and stretch, taking in the handful of cars parked in front of the rustic, log cabin building.
The Bar is notorious for three things: good beer, amazing food, and even better music.
It’s a tourist trap through and through.
Designed to deliver exactly what they want.