Chapter 6
6
DAX
I dropped my bag inside the front door of Jack and Hannah’s house. Their new place was what one would call quaint. The exterior looked like it had been in a 50s TV show where everything was perfect. Right down to the fall flowers in the window baskets and a white picket fence. It was small, but every inch of the place modernized. New windows, bathrooms, kitchen, roof, and state-of-the-art security system that beeped at me.
I entered the alarm code and then… silence.
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself.
What a fucking day. I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. My suit jacket was long gone. My tie tugged loose. Sleeves rolled up. Fuck, I was tired .
I’d found the perfect ravine to dump the bodies, remote and steep. And isolated. Since I wasn’t a litterer, I’d had to cut the tarps open and roll the bodies over the cliff without them.
Through all of that, I thought of one thing.
Her. The woman from the robbery. How she’d taken that guy down. I couldn’t fucking believe she did that. Twirling her hair and holding a coffee pot while a gun was aimed at her. I was pissed that she’d put herself in danger, but that was what kept replaying in my head.
I’d fucking spank her–I’d been thinking about that ever since, too–then fuck her for being so fucking hot while fucking singlehandedly stopping an armed fucking robbery. Yeah, that was a whole lot of fucks, but fuuuuuucccckkkkkk.
Most women had lipstick and tissues and who knew what else in their purses. She had a fucking Glock.
I was fucking pissed. And turned on. And–Jack would laugh his ass off–obsessed.
Who was she?
I hadn’t been able to stay at the convenience store and find out. I couldn’t get her number. Or ask her out. Or fuck her in the convenience store’s bathroom to take the edge off my need for her, and my blood pressure. I’d known the police would show and with two dead bodies in my trunk, it was the last place I could remain. I left, not knowing anything about her, other than she was the sexiest thing ever .
I’d heard the term lady balls and next to the term in the dictionary was definitely her photo. Holy hell.
Ever since I drove off, I’d waffled between wanting to strangle and fuck her.
As soon as I got into cell phone range, I’d pulled over and called Nitro–my uber-talented IT guy who could access anything or get any answer–and tasked him with finding security footage of the robbery. Facial recognition. Her bio. If anyone could dig info up, it was him.
I’d find out who she was, track her down and get her to spend two weeks in Jack’s guest bed with me. Blow off any of the upcoming jobs.
I’d been with plenty of women. I loved women. But it’d been a while since I took one to bed. I used to find it easy to call a service. A beautiful woman for a fun time without any questions about work or emotional attachments? Perfect. I never got close long enough to answer the question what do you do for a living? I could generalize what I did with a woman I spent a few hours with.
But a woman I wanted to keep? Impossible. That was the reason I hadn’t settled down. That and the fact that love made a man go fucking insane. I’d seen how my dad fell to pieces when Mom was killed, then turned to murder to ease his anger over it. Passed that onto me. Jack, too, until he found Hannah.
Dad taught me love was bad for your health. And sanity.
So far in life, it hadn’t mattered. No one had ever made my dick stir like Miss Glock at the convenience store. And that had been before she pulled her gun.
Why was I trying to track her down if nothing could come of it? My dick was doing the thinking, obviously. I was going to find her. No question. When I did–
I felt something bump and weave around my ankles all the while meowing. Pancake.
Reaching down, I picked him up and scratched his head. He was a big fluff of black, brown, and white fur. His pointy ears tipped back and his golden eyes fell closed. If he were actually a she , he’d be a pleasure princess.
The spoiled fucker.
“I know how you are,” I told him as he began to purr. “Annoying Jack until he feeds you.” I headed to the kitchen at the back of the house. “You’ll get your meal but then you’re on your own while I sleep for about ten hours.”
I set him on the wood floor because while I liked him, I hated when he got on the counters.
In the middle of the island was a stack of canned food, a bag of cat litter and the name and number of a vet’s office. On a little mat by the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the backyard was his food and water dishes. Beside it was a cat tree. Every time I saw it, I shook my head. It was the biggest one I’d ever seen with five carpeted tiers for precious Pancake to lounge on. Five. Jack had even hung bird feeders right outside the window for him to watch the wildlife. I wasn’t sure if it was torture or heaven for the furry guy .
Picking a can and opening it, I went to his bowl, flipped it over and dumped the food in. Pancake nudged me out of the way, purring even louder.
I left him to his food and found the recycling can in the pantry. On the back of the door was a corkboard with carryout menus and a few coupons for the local pizza place. Also, on there, front and center, was a list. With photos. I stopped and stared at what Jack had made.
Written at the top? BAD GUYS OF COAL SPRINGS. The word FUCKERS was crossed out and in red pen, BAD GUYS was written over it. Hannah’s update, I assumed.
I pulled the thumb tack out and took the paper to study it. It appeared to have been made in a spreadsheet, as if it could be updated any time if there were more fuckers to add. Currently, there were nine names on the list.
I studied their info and photos.
Hector Lopez - 32 - Bad checks - 764 Moose Court
The photo of him had to be from his driver’s license because it was so awful. Bad checks? Did people even use checks anymore? Why did Jack even care about that? Wait, maybe he’d written one at Hannah’s new bookstore. It had only been open two months and from what I heard, it was a huge success. Separating her from it to go on vacation had been a monumental task for Jack. I didn’t want to think of how he’d finally persuaded her. Probably something to do with him and his balls.
Edith Maroon - 73 - Yelled at kids on bikes cutting across her lawn and made one cry - Across the fucking street
Okay, she was a bad guy .
Same with number three.
Jason Mooner - 24 - DUI - 12A Elk Ave.
I was going to look into him. After what happened to my mom, I’d make sure this guy was one and done on drinking and driving, or he was going to be one and done on life.
Number four was also an asshole.
Swifty Johnson - 48 - Habitual uses the handicap parking spots when he’s fully abled - 7649 W. Mountain View Rd.
The list went on of dumbasses and assholes. I had to laugh at number seven.
Andy Last name unknown - Around 10 - Always throws the newspaper into the bushes - TBD address
Jesus. This was the list of bad guys? After the real bad guys he used to get paid to kill this group looked like a bunch of kindergartners. One was actually in elementary school. Why was Jack keeping a list of these losers in the first place?
The last one answered my question.
Kevin Cortez - 31 - Cheated on Hannah - Better not fucking be in Coal Springs
I heard about him. Jack had paid him a little visit over the summer with the ultimatum to either get out of town or die.
This list was Jack’s way of keeping tabs on any threat to Hannah, although I wasn’t sure how Edith Maroon would be an issue. Unless they were planning on having kids.
I froze at that thought. Was two weeks in Hawaii an attempt to get pregnant? I grinned. I’d be the perfect uncle with gifts like water pistols and BB guns.
I went into the guest bedroom and fell onto the bed like a tree cut in the forest. Before I could even sigh at the satisfaction of being horizontal, my phone rang.
Groaning, I pulled it from my pocket. It was Nitro. That perked me up more than a shot of espresso.
“What do you have for me?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
I’d never heard him say that. Not once.
“What do you mean nothing ?” I spat.
“The convenience store has no security cameras. No other buildings around to mine any security footage they might have.”
Of course, that place didn’t have cameras. It didn’t even have a coffee urn.
“Highway cameras?” I wondered. Every highway, especially up in the mountains where the weather could vary within a mile, had cameras these days.
“Yeah, but you never said what kind of car she had.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before.” He was like the tech guy in James Bond movies. Super smart, super possessive of his gadgets and always found intel.
“All you told me was that she’s blonde, carries a gun, and likes coffee. She sounds like Sarah Connor from Terminator who needs a caffeine fix.”
“Sounds about right,” I grumbled. I was frustrated with the dead end. I’d never been so attracted before. So angry. Frustrated. Annoyed. Aroused .
“There must be a police report on the robbery,” I said finally. “Or there will be soon. She’ll be listed.”
“Yeah, I checked. Not yet. Only the 9-1-1 dispatch. I’ll let you know when that comes through.”
I grunted, then hung up. Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling. Why was the first woman I ever truly wanted so hard to find?