Chapter 2
Chapter Two
A aron rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped between two people, his shadow stretching long across the cobbled walkway in the soft morning light. The taller man was red-faced and gesturing wildly with his arms, and his voice grew louder with each word.
“I paid for that massage days ago! You can’t just give my spot away!”
“Your appointment was for nine-thirty,” Andrea said calmly, her arms folded across her chest. “It’s ten-oh-five. I had other customers waiting, ones who showed up on time, so I had to move on.”
The man took another step forward, his fists clenched by his sides. Aaron’s voice cut in, low and firm.
“All right,” he said, stepping into the space between them. “That’s enough.”
The man turned towards him and puffed up his chest, no doubt ready to bark something back, until he really saw Aaron.
Six-two, all lean muscle, and an aura of quiet authority, with the kind of steady blue eyes that didn’t flinch easily.
Aaron didn’t have to raise his voice to take control.
The calm in his tone was enough to reset any temperature.
“You’re upset. I get it,” Aaron continued calmly. “But this isn’t how we handle things at River Camps. Let’s take a quick walk.” He laid his hand gently on the man’s shoulder.
The man hesitated, still fuming, but then muttered something under his breath and followed him a few steps away.
Aaron led him away from the pool house that housed the massage rooms. He wanted to give the guy a little room and time to breathe.
“Look, I know it’s frustrating to miss something that you were looking forward to. But yelling at our staff isn’t going to fix the situation. You show up late, there are consequences. That’s just how it works in life.”
The man opened his mouth, then sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Behind them, Andrea stepped forward, arms still crossed, but her tone was cool and professional. “I just looked and I’ve got a thirty-minute window at noon today that I can slide you into,” she said as her eyes moved to his. “That’s the best I can do for today.”
The man glanced at her, still visibly annoyed, but clearly realizing that he was lucky to get anything at all.
She added, “And I’ll give you an extra ten minutes if you show up five minutes early. I’ll let the session run over by five. But if you show up late again, you lose the spot. No exceptions.”
The guy blinked a few times as he processed the offer and suddenly his shoulders slumped. “Fine.” He threw up his hands lightly. “Sure.”
Andrea gave him a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Great. Then we’re done here.”
Aaron stood by, arms relaxed at his sides but still watchful until the man turned and stalked off towards the main lodge.
Only then did Andrea turn towards Aaron and mutter, “Dudes like that are why I keep a punching bag in my garage.”
He chuckled. “You’re too generous. I would’ve given him five minutes and a granola bar.”
She snorted. “You owe me an iced coffee for not throat-punching him.”
“I’ll run it by five minutes before noon,” he joked. Andrea laughed.
Aaron glanced over as Andrea headed towards the pool house doors.
She had a short, slender build but had a wiry strength to her, like she could throw a guy twice her size if he gave her a reason.
Her blond hair was up in a high knot, her tattoos peeking out beneath her camp-branded top.
He knew that the woman didn’t rattle easily and definitely didn’t take crap from anyone.
Normally, she’d have thrown in a sarcastic jab or flirty eye roll to cut the tension, but she and Dean had become an item last year and were engaged.
Since then, she’d cut back on all the flirting.
He missed it, not because he was attracted to her, but because it had been fun. A game to keep himself from getting rusty.
The last time he’d gone out with a woman was, well, too long ago to calculate. One of the perks of this job was the mindless flirting.
His mind snapped to the only woman with whom the flirting mattered. Beth.
Shaking his head, he cleared his mind and followed the massage man to make sure he didn’t cause any more problems.
After that, the rest of the morning moved slowly. He made his way to the main building, checked that each office door was locked, then headed to the side gates. Then he walked over to the beach access area. As he went, he nodded a greeting to staff and guests as he passed them.
The scent of sunscreen and fresh-cut grass filled the warm air.
Today, it was mixed with faint sweetness of whatever the staff was making in the massive kitchen, which had his stomach growling.
So he headed towards the main building again and sat in the employees’ cafeteria and wolfed down a Swiss burger with truffle fries.
He followed the meal up with a slice of pecan pie and caramel ice cream.
Mid-afternoon, he stepped into the larger parking lot to check parking tags.
The sun was high in the sky, causing sharp shadows to crisscross over the parking lot.
He stepped out from the cool shaded pathway beside the brand-new events center, which had just been finished two months before, to do his rounds.
Dozens of pathways snaked around the almost one hundred acres of land that made up River Camps. He knew each of them by heart.
With more than fifty cabins and twenty fairly new glamping tents on the premises, they usually had over a hundred guests each night.
That was the main reason for the new event building.
They had needed more space to hold things like music sessions, dances, and talent shows.
The new building was closer to the bay’s edge and had a large deck that hung out over the water.
To him, this made it one of the best spots on the grounds.
With the camp growing in popularity since it had opened its doors ten years before, it was no wonder his friend Brett Jewel had hired him on a few years back. Since the first year that the camp had opened, they’d had a shooting, a stabbing, a kidnapping, and even a hurricane.
There were half a dozen security personnel at this point, with two on the premises at all times. Day and night.
Normally, he and Brett worked the day shift, while Trent Foster and Mac Delgado, the joker of the group, worked night shift. Logan Trace and Darius Flint filled in when needed. Logan was a retired sheriff and Darius worked as a corrections officer part time at the county jail.
He glanced over when he heard a car turn in the gates and watched Beth’s car rolled in at an uneven pace, not fast, but not casual either. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, and he could see that her eyes jerked around the lot before she pulled into the space closest to him.
He knew instantly that something was wrong.
Aaron quickly moved towards her, remembering that it was her day off.
Hell, most days he knew the moment that she drove onto the lot and the moment that she left. Not because it was his job, but because he knew the fear that she faced every single time she did so.
It was one thing everyone at River Camps had promised her, whether to her face or not—whatever happened, Beth Ellison was going to be safe here.
Beth stepped out of her car, one of her hands still on the door, the other already pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. Her face was pale beneath the flush of heat, and her chest rose quickly with shallow breaths.
“I think someone is following me,” she said when he stopped beside her. Her voice was low, and he could see that she was shaken.
Aaron’s smile vanished instantly. His eyes narrowed slightly, not with suspicion but with focus. He didn’t question her. Didn’t dismiss it as paranoia. He just stepped in close enough to offer steadiness as he glanced towards the gates.
He couldn’t see anyone there, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t. Whoever it was obviously hadn’t wanted to turn into the parking area. He waited several heartbeats.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get you inside.”
He reached in and turned off her car, pocketing her keys before leading her towards the security office. It was a small building that was tucked between the pump house for the larger pool and the main lounge or, as everyone called it, the main building.
The air-conditioning hit him like a wave as he opened the door and waited for her to step inside. She collapsed into a chair closest to his desk while he grabbed a cold bottle of water from the mini-fridge and set it in front of her.
“Drink that. Just breathe for a sec,” he said when she started to open her mouth to talk.
Beth nodded, unscrewed the cap with trembling fingers, and took several gulps of water.
Aaron pulled a chair in front of her and sat, resting one forearm on his knee. “What happened?”
She hesitated, eyes flicking towards the window like she expected to see the car parked just beyond the trees. Her fingers tightened around the bottle of water that he’d given her, her knuckles pale against the plastic.
Then she spoke.
Not everything. Not all at once. But enough.
About the car. How she had seen it parked outside her place when she’d left to go to lunch with Julie.
How the engine had been running. She described the windows as tinted so dark that she couldn’t see inside and tell if anyone was in there.
Then about how it hadn’t moved for over an hour while she’d eaten with Julie and the kids.
Then she told him how it pulled out behind her when she left to head to the grocery store. How each time she turned, it followed, staying back just far enough not to be obvious but close enough to feel like a threat.
Her voice was steady at first, controlled. But he could hear the thin edge of fear buried beneath every carefully chosen word. The quiet kind of fear, the kind that sat in your bones and never really left.