Chapter 8
Jules
I’ve been working at the gun shop for coming up to two weeks now, and I’ve learned that Flint closes up the shop early sometimes.
Today was one of those days. He also likes to throw steaks on the grill and kick back with a cold beer.
I’m there for all of it; except I drink wine coolers.
We sit on the patio and unwind after a long week. Friday evenings are everything.
When he carries the steaks out to the grill, I follow, because watching Flint cook has become one of my favorite things. He opens the lid to the preheated grill and gently lays our marinated steaks onto the grill with a pair of metal tongs.
“Your club meeting didn’t take very long this afternoon,” I say, just to make conversation and show that I’m interested in his life.
“Jasper wanted us to vote on new patches. That’s a sore spot with me after what they did to Tommy.”
“I know the two of you wanted to be in the same club, but I talked to him on my lunch break for a few minutes. He is having the time of his life being Mica’s road captain. He seems to really fit in at Raging Vultures.”
“I’m glad to hear that. He’s been putting some distance between me and him. I think he just wants a clean break until he gets established in his new club.”
When I don’t immediately answer, Flint moves on to another topic.
“How was your afternoon? Did anything interesting happen at the shop while I was out?”
“Pete came back while you were out.”
“Old Pete, or Redheaded Pete?”
“Redheaded,” I say.
“What? That’s what, three times this week? What the fuck did he want this time?”
“He keeps talking about his soon-to-be ex-wife a lot. I think he’s just lonely. He needs a therapist. The problem is I’m not one.”
“Stop being so fuckin’ nice to him. Next time, send him to me. I know how to handle Pete,” Flint says irritably.
“If by handle Pete, you mean glaring until he remembers he came in about a gun, sure.”
Flint’s irritation is replaced with a tiny self-deprecating half smile. He’s become more relaxed around me, laughs easily, and has even been known to crack a joke or two on occasion.
“You’ve got a growing fan club,” he mutters.
“Jealous?” I tease, though I do wonder by his response if he really is jealous. Something about that makes my heart flutter.
He chooses not to respond, but when he turns the steaks, the scent coming off the grill makes my stomach growl. “How long until they’re finished?” I ask.
“About twelve more minutes. Want to grab the salad out of the fridge?”
“Yes, of course,” I tell him, jumping to my feet and rushing inside. I grab more drinks for the two of us.
I head inside and grab what I prepped earlier and come back out with plates and the bowl. He’s already pulled the steaks and is leaning against the railing, watching the sunset.
I put everything on the table, then pause to look at him.
It’s something I can’t help doing since moving in with him.
I’ve had a huge crush on him for most of my teen years, but living in his house and watching him in moments like this, in a tight T-shirt, jeans hung low off his hips, and bare feet, really gets to me.
I’m twenty-two. I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen.
I want what I can’t have with this hot biker.
“You’re staring at me again, Jules.”
“I’m enjoying the view,” I lie shamelessly.
He jerks his chin towards the horizon. “The sunset is over there.”
“What makes you think the sunset is the best view?”
He turns, eyebrow raised. “You say the wildest shit sometimes.”
“You’re a handsome man, Flint. Women stare at you all the time. You just don’t notice.”
He freezes for a second, and then his eyes drift away. He carries the steaks over and puts them on the table. “Sit down and eat your dinner.”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a mock salute.
“Don’t call me sir. I’m not your boss at home, only at work.”
“If you’re telling me what to do at both places, you get called sir at both places.”
He shakes his head trying not to smile.
“You tell me to do things instead of asking. I don’t think you even realize you’re doing it,” I say matter-of-factly. Flint is a strong-willed man who’s used to getting his own way. But growing up with Tommy taught me skills for dealing with men who like to be in charge.
He shakes his head, and we settle down to eat. “You’re right. I didn’t realize I was doing it. I apologize.”
“I accept your kind apology. Now eat your damn steak.”
Flint chuckles. “It does seem weirdly controlling when you do it.”
We start eating. The cat starts weaving between our chairs as we eat in silence. When she jumps into my lap, I pet her with one hand and eat with the other. Flint glances down at her. When his eyes lift to mine, there is a seriousness that wasn’t there before.
“That sketch you were working on at the shop the other day.”
I keep petting her back, wondering why he’s taken a sudden interest in my sketches. “What about it?”
“I saw some of the other drawings in your sketchbook. They look kind of disturbing.”
My hand freezes for an instant on her back, and her head pops up to see why. I quickly start smoothing my hand down her back again.
“Disturbing, how?” I ask. Knowing full well what he means.
Flint’s head comes up, hard and fast. “Is this all about what you saw on the beltline, or did something else happen? Tell me, Jules.”
I hadn’t wanted to worry Tommy too much about what happened back in LA, so I’d not told him and Flint the whole weird story. I swallow the bite of food in my mouth and take a sip of my wine cooler. After Flint has been so kind to me it feels wrong lying to him, so I decide it’s time.
“About LA. It wasn’t just the man I saw—thought I saw—getting kidnapped,” I say, realizing I made the choice not to lie but still haven’t decided how much of my situation I want him to know. “But what happened afterward that made me come here.”
“What kind of stuff? What could have happened to give you nightmares?”
Now it’s my turn to be shocked. How does Flint know I have bad dreams?
As if intuiting my question, he explains, “I’ve heard you crying out in your sleep. I almost woke you up a time or two, but it stopped, so I decided to let you be. You can talk to me. You know you can.”
Sighing, I tell him, “It was the kind of stuff that I should have told my brother about and didn’t.”
He puts his fork down and waits patiently for me to continue.
I quickly take another sip of the wine cooler. I’m not stupid. I know I can trust Flint. I also know that if I don’t tell someone about this, I’m going to walk around with it locked inside me for the rest of my life.
“Somebody threw a rock through my front room window. It was a couple of days after the thing I saw go down on the beltline. It was late at night, and I was already in bed.”
“Jesus, that must have been terrifying.”
“Yeah, it was. When I heard the glass break, I thought somebody was breaking in. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door and called the police.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. The police showed up pretty fast. They tried to tell me it was probably kids out after dark pulling pranks. Only I knew that wasn’t true.
Children aren’t running around in the middle of the night.
They’re home in their beds. And because the rock had a piece of paper wrapped around it with a couple of rubber bands.
It felt like how the bad guys send messages in the movies. ”
“Fuckin’ hell. What did the message say?”
“That’s the weird thing, there was no message, just a blank piece of paper. I looked on the front and back, and there were no words.”
“A blank piece of paper? That’s strange.”
“Yeah. I think it was the men from the beltline. They followed me to the police station when I reported the incident. I think they followed me home. They wanted me to know they were watching me but didn’t want to leave any incriminating evidence.”
“They were playing mind games,” Flint says grimly. “That’s worse than a note.”
When I don’t answer, he states, “Tell me they at least took the paper in for fingerprinting.”
I shrug, having entirely lost my appetite. “Yeah, they took it. I never heard back about it.”
“That’s fuckin’ infuriating. Did you ever follow up?”
Nodding, I tell him, “I called them a couple of weeks later to check on the case. The guy who answered the phone asked for my case number and verified my identity, only to tell me they were still looking into it. Since I couldn’t force them to do anything and wasn’t even sure what they could do, I let it go. ”
“You should have called Tommy.”
He’s telling me what I already know, so I just agree. “I know. If I had it to do over again, I would.”
“Why didn’t you?”
My cat stretches in my lap and then jumps down and walks off towards her food bowl.
“Jules, answer me.” It’s another command but spoken gently this time.
“Because I’m supposed to be an adult living in the real world and making decisions for myself. I did the right thing by calling the police. My brother’s trying to live his own life. He had enough on his plate at the time without worrying about me.”
Flint takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His expression is unreadable. “He would have wanted to know.”
“Yeah, I thought the rock was a one-off thing,” I tell him wearily.
“Are you saying it wasn’t?” I can hear the slight panic in Flint’s tone but force myself to tell him the rest.
“My apartment had a doggie door leading out to a fenced backyard. The previous tenants put it in. Since Fluffy’s an indoor cat, I put a little lock on it.
I don’t think she even realized it was a door.
I went to meet with a client to turn in an oversized sketch of their grandmother. I was only gone maybe an hour or two.”
“Tell me they didn’t use that fucking thing to break into your place,” Flint growls.
“No. These guys are smart, Flint. Our front door had a Ring cam, and there were cameras in the living room and kitchen. I put them in to check on my cat.”
“What then?”