Chapter Three
“Afternoon, what can I get you?” The waitress asks, standing at the edge of the table.
She's checking me out, cute enough, wrong vibe entirely. Not that it matters. I don't date; my nights are too full of other things. Rule one, carved in stone: don't let anyone close. "Your chicken pesto panini… any good?”
“Best in the city. We’re well known for our pesto,” she flashes a honeyed smile.
Looking at her name tag, I give her a loose grin, “I’ll take that and a sweet tea with lemon.
Thanks, Sarah.” She nods, scurrying off to put in my order.
Booting up my laptop, I see the company software—owned by my roommate Cam and me—pop up.
It’s part construction and part handyman company.
We can build just about anything and fix just about anything, from technology to broken appliances to whatever someone desires.
Cam handles most of the tech stuff while I do most of the other heavy lifting.
Sarah comes back with my sweet tea. “Your food should be up shortly. I saw your computer sitting out, and I apologize, but our internet is down. We have someone coming to look at it and should be here any moment.”
“Oh, that's no problem, doll. I’ll use my hotspot. Thanks, though.” Sarah nods, turning to tend to other customers.
I refocus my attention on my computer and look at this week's schedule. It’s going to be a stormy week, so it’s mostly tech and small jobs that won’t take long.
As I shoot Cam a message to give him a heads-up about the schedule, the bell above the door rings.
My eyes drag up to the door in front of me, meeting the prettiest eyes, smoky grey.
Her dark auburn hair has copper undertones.
Her sharp features are perfectly symmetrical, giving her a natural, flawless look.
Small freckles dot across her nose. Who is this woman?
She tears her eyes from mine, a shade of pink creeping up her neck as she makes her way to the front.
She greets Sarah and is ushered to the back. Interesting.
My laptop pings with a message from Cam acknowledging the schedule.
Sarah places my food down. Politely thanking her, I start scrolling through the emails I need to address.
She takes the hint that I’m not looking for conversation, setting down the check as she leaves the table.
I spend the next hour or so working through these emails when a soft voice tinged with sin comes from the counter.
“It’s no problem, Sarah. I’m just glad I could fix it for you.
” The devilishly beautiful woman seems to be tech-savvy.
“If you have any other issues, just shoot me a text, and I’ll come back.
” She’s smiling as she continues making small talk with Sarah.
She orders a coffee to go. I pack up my stuff, grab the check, and head toward the front.
As soon as I get to the front, the woman turns at the same time, crashing into me.
“Oh god! I am so sorry. I am such a klutz.” She reaches for the napkins to start wiping up the drink she spilled down my shirt.
Lifting my eyebrow as she mindlessly starts patting down my chest, a tilted grin crawls across my face.
“That’s okay, darlin’, no need to pat me down.
Unless you obviously want to, then, please continue.
” The blush from earlier creeps right back up her neck.
She opens and closes her mouth, like a fish gasping for air, her hand still resting on my chest. “Let me replace your drink, please.”
“Oh, umm,” she notices her hand is still on my chest and drops it like it’s on fire. “That’s okay. I probably don’t need any more caffeine, plus it was my fault. Guess I should be more aware of my surroundings.” A hint of trouble twinkles in her eyes.
“I insist, I shouldn’t have walked up so close behind you.” I look toward Sarah, who is sitting there watching us, “Please add another of whatever she had to my ticket.” Sarah smiles at the woman and gives me my new total.
“Well, thank you… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” She throws away her now-empty cup as Sarah gives me my change and starts on her drink.
“Sterling.” Sarah hands her the new drink, moving to tend to new customers coming in.
“Kiera. And again, thank you for the coffee. Would you like to sit for a moment? I should at least have a proper conversation with you since you bought me a drink,” she says, giving me a half-loaded grin. Don’t get attached.
“I would love to, but I’m late for a job. Maybe next time you bump into me.”
“Oh, okay. No problem. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Hopefully without spilling a drink on you.” She walks away, waving bye to Sarah. Making sure no one is looking, I grab her old cup from the trash can and head out the door. My curiosity about this woman will be a thorn in my side.
Shoving the front door open, I toss my stuff on the bench in the entryway and toe off my boots.
“Cam,” I holler, heading toward the kitchen.
No response. Where the fuck is he? “CAM!” I yell again, grabbing a beer out of the fridge before I head toward the nerd's cave.
The door is closed, which is odd. I knock on the door, still no answer.
I open the door. “Hey, dipshit…” His room is dark, and no one is here.
I turn back down the hallway, pulling out my phone as the front door slams closed.
“Fucking stupid ass kids,” Cam mutters as he heads toward the fridge.
“You good?” I ask. Cam is not a moody one. He’s broody but has the patience of a saint; I do not. It’s what makes us a great team.
Cam grabs a beer out of the fridge, slamming it shut.
“No, but yes. Stupid teenager got the worst virus I’ve seen trying to watch some porn and kept clicking on links from the ‘ladies’ that emailed him.
” He takes a long swig from his beer. “Do they not have a brain? Anyway, it took me hours to get his computer right. I was half tempted to leave a note for his parents, but he tipped me a few hundred bucks to keep it quiet.” Cam plops down on the couch.
The silence only lasted for a few seconds before I burst out laughing. Cam looks at me like I’m growing another head. “Do you not remember being a teenage boy? I’m sure my computer was worse at one point or another.” I sit down beside him, finally cracking my beer open.
“I didn’t actively search porn in my teens as your horn dog hormones did. I was too busy learning coding, thank you very much.” He grabs the remote and flips it to PD Live. I don't understand why he likes this show, but it’s easy to get caught up in. My hometown even made it on there one day.
“Aweee, my little Cammy boy is all grown up now.” I baby-talk him, pinching his cheeks.
“Watch it, fucker.” He glares at me before going back to his show. My phone pings with a notification. I pull it out and open the email that came to my non-traceable email address.
Incoming email: Wade Hawthorne.
Ghost, I have someone I need taken care of. I’m willing to pay a hefty fee plus more if you can find them and bring them to me. I need this done discreetly.
Wade has someone who has info on him. Looking over at Cam, I toss him my phone, the email still up. “Side job just came in. Can you find out as much as you can about him? The usual stuff: kids, jobs, spouses, known associates, and money situation.”
Cam looks over the to-the-point email. “Sure thing, I’ll get it done.”
“Thanks, I’m going to go shower. Let me know what you find.
” I polish off my beer, grabbing my bag as I head to my room.
Once the door clicks shut, I pull out the Ziploc bag with the cup I took from the cafe.
“Who are you?” My mind drifts to the woman from earlier—the one who got in without trying.
That doesn't happen. I don't let it. She is all shy and soft on the surface, but I could taste the demon underneath.
Fiery. Waiting. I intend to find out too.
Her hand burned against my chest, and I felt it…
the spark, the start of something I shouldn't want.
Placing the bag in my top drawer, I grab my towel off the chair as I head into the bathroom.
Starting the shower up, I glance over at the mirror out of habit.
My dirty blonde hair has grown a bit— it’s been a while since I’ve had it cut.
My beard needs trimming. My blue eyes look dull and empty.
Men have no emotions. Hearing her voice sends my heart racing.
Taking deep breaths, I turn away from the mirror.
Stripping down, I climb into the shower and let the sting from the hot water wash away the memories.
Closing my eyes, I lean my forehead against the wall.
I’m not sure how much time passes when a knock comes on the door, startling me. “Yeah?”
“I got that info, meet me in my room,” Cam says through the door.
I hear his footsteps fading as I dry off.
Slipping on some sweats and a shirt, I head to his room.
“Come look at this.” Cam pulls up all the files he found on his six screens.
Most of it I already know, but something pops up that I am unaware of.
There you are, my Thorn. Told you I’d figure it out.
“Is there anything important?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the screen.
“No, not really. Basic stuff. Nothing concerning,” Cam replies as he shuffles through the files.
“Okay, send them to me, and I’ll do a full look-through." Thanks, man.” I clap his shoulder and head back to my room. Grabbing my laptop, I pull up the files and open them immediately to Kiera’s information.
Kiera Rayne Hawthorne
D.O.B: 02/14/2000
Age: 24
Profession:
Executive Event Coordinator for Hawthorne Corp.
Current Residency:
HT Complex
Relatives:
Wade Hawthorne (Father)
Evelyn Hawthorne (Mother- Deceased)
No known siblings
Known Associates:
Lila Fallon
Marjorie Whitley
George Whitley
Arrest record:
Clean record
Nothing stands out on paper about her, but there is definitely more under her perfect facade.
What’s buried underneath your skin, Thorn?
I close out of her file, open his. Scrolling past the mundane until the word stops me cold.
Cicada. A ghost from somewhere I can't remember. Yet... Pulling up the dark web, I search the name, getting only one hit. There is no direct mention of Cicada, but it talks about a ruse under the pretense of a bordering school. Nothing is specifically said about what it is or where it is located. I make a note to investigate it later. I shoot an email to Wade, letting him know that I’ll take the job and requesting all the information he has before closing the computer and lying back.
Kiera Hawthorne, what a fitting name for the thorn you’ve become.
I don't get attached. Cam's the exception—earned that right when we were nothing but scraped knees and secrets. So this obsession with her? It’s foreign. It’s exciting.
It’s wrong. Thorns come with the prettiest flowers and still draw blood.
I need to cut this one out before the poison spreads.
Before I want it to. Arm cocked behind my head, I stare at the ceiling fan, blades cutting the air in endless circles. The rhythm pulls me under.