Chapter One #3
Brooklyn rolled her eyes while simultaneously flipping Seneca the bird. She was impressive like that. Fluent in “Fuck You,” she never wasted an opportunity to practice her linguistics.
Seneca blew her friend an exaggerated kiss accompanied by the requisite amount of juvenile smooching sounds. Brooklyn stopped a second and chuckled before she headed through the doorway, until the metal wind chimes signaled her exit out the front door.
It was good to have friends. Even perpetually grumpy ones like Brooklyn.
A quick glance at her phone’s clock display spurred her to get up and head for her bedroom. She had to see a man about a good time tonight. Being late just wouldn’t do.
*
Seneca checked her hair and makeup in her rearview mirror for what seemed like the millionth time.
She never fussed over her appearance like this, but tonight was the night, and she couldn’t help wanting to be extra cute.
Her curly, natural hair was free of its usual cornrows.
And if the hair gods kept smiling on her, the Texas heat wouldn’t destroy her trendy braid-out.
She primped for a few minutes more before deciding her cute factor was on point and headed toward the diner. She wasn’t far from the entrance when she heard someone call out. “You sure do clean up well.”
Her muscles locked and halted her stride as a chill passed across the surface of her skin. She didn’t need to turn around to know who was speaking. That voice had terrified her for nearly seven years.
“If I’d known all of this was under your standard-issue orange jumpsuit, I might have demanded other perks from you than your computer skills.”
Sheriff Leroy Hastings finally stepped around and then in front of her. He let his lecherous gaze slide down the length of her, and instantly Seneca wanted a shower.
She fought against her desire to recoil in disgust. Play it cool, Seneca. Stay calm so he doesn’t have a reason to react, a reason to feel threatened, an excuse to take your freedom away.
“Evening, Sheriff.”
His lanky form vibrated with a soundless chuckle. “You look like you’ve got plans. I remember a time when the only plans you had were the ones I gave you. You remember, don’t’cha? Those were the good ole days.”
That wasn’t exactly how she remembered their time together in the state pen when he was the corrections officer in charge of her cellblock. She didn’t refute his delusions. Good sense demanded she remain silent if she wanted to get out of this situation with the least harm.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from whatever’s waiting on you in the diner, but while I have you here, might as well say what’s on my mind. I’ve run into a bit of a cash flow problem recently. To help that, I’mma need you to resume our previous agreement.”
She shook her head out of reflex as panic flooded her insides, making her body feel two sizes too small. Bad move. She could see anger spark in his eyes. She looked around the dark parking lot for another soul or a way out, but there was none.
“I’ve done my time. You can’t do this to me again. You made me use my hacking skills to steal money for you on the inside. That’s not happening ever again.”
The nonchalant shrug he offered made her blood run cold. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I was the law when you were in lockup. Now I’m the law out here. Whatever I say goes. And even your fancy lawyer lady can’t do nothing about that.”
“You can’t do this.” She said the words again to convince herself as much as the sheriff.
“I can do what I want. You think ’cause you out there on that ranch I can’t make things hard for you? For the people you work with? Work for? It really would be a shame to see all that hard work that Everett lady has done go up in smoke.”
His threat made her stomach plummet as if she were on the peak of a roller-coaster track.
“Are you threatening to burn down the ranch?”
He chuckled, putting his morbid humor on display for her.
“I don’t need to go through all of that trouble. Arson is way too messy. But it would be a shame if she couldn’t get the necessary permits required to operate the kind of business she’s trying to open up.”
The chimes on the door of the diner rang out into the night air as a patron opened the door and headed in their direction. Seneca took advantage of the distraction and walked around the sheriff and headed for the door. When her foot touched the bottom step he called out to her.
“I’ll be in touch, Ms. Daniels.” He smiled, tipped his hat, then walked back to his cruiser.
His words made the hairs on her arms stand up at attention, even after he’d pulled out of the parking lot. He might have sounded benign and businesslike. But Seneca saw through his bullshit for what it was: a threat.
She shook herself and headed inside. That man had ruined her life for too many years to give him one moment more of her time than necessary.
She waved at Martha-Jean standing behind the counter. “You want me to set you up right here or you want a booth?”
Seneca glanced around. Save for a man sitting at the other end of the counter, the entire diner was empty. Seneca tipped her head toward the booths behind her. “Is the back booth available? I’m expecting company.”
Martha-Jean nodded and grabbed two menus before walking Seneca to her requested booth. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”
She smiled and took a relieved breath when she sat down.
As much as she enjoyed sitting at the counter and chatting with the waitstaff as they worked, tonight she needed this booth.
It would give Colton and her more privacy.
But more importantly, it would give her a chance to get herself together after her encounter with Hastings.
“He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore. Just focus on tonight.”