She’s Going to Pay

Chapter 1

Canton, MO

“Case dismissed.”

Bam. The smash of the gavel added an exclamation at the end of the judge’s statement.

And that was that.

The nine-month nightmare ended with one resounding thud.

On cue, the avid spectators surged to their feet, their cheers, protests, and gasps of disbelief creating an incoherent babble.

Jesse Hudson blocked out the sound as she pushed her way through the crowd that had gathered in tight knots to discuss the abrupt conclusion to the scandal that had rocked Canton, Missouri, a sleepy little college town on the banks of the Mississippi River.

Her neighbors might be packed in the old courthouse, with its layers of dark wood paneling and rows of uncomfortable benches, to enjoy the spectacle of Mac Hudson being charged with the murder of his wife, Victoria Ralston Hudson, and stepdaughter, Tegan Ralston, but for Jesse it had been a matter of life or death. Literally.

“Dad.” Leaning across the wooden barrier, she tapped her father on the back of his shoulder to gain his attention.

Mac Hudson slowly turned, and Jesse struggled to hide a dismay.

Her dad had always been a large man with a barrel chest and a laugh that could fill the room.

He’d never been handsome. His features were too blunt and his jowls too heavy, but there’d been an engaging charm in his ready smile.

That charm was one of many reasons that his bar—the Tap Room—had been such a success over the years.

Now he looked worn. Not just because he’d lost weight. Or because his blond hair had receded from his forehead. The months since his second wife and stepdaughter had mysteriously disappeared had drained his very soul, sucking away the joy that once twinkled in his eyes.

“I told you.” Her words came out in a fierce burst. “I knew this stupid farce would never go to trial.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad one of us was so certain.”

“There was never a doubt. Never.”

Mac released a shaky sigh. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve, for one thing. Lucky for you, I have a pot of your favorite chili in the Crock-Pot and a skillet of corn bread waiting to go into the oven.”

Her dad groaned. “Oh God, after three months of jail food that sounds like heaven.”

Jesse stepped back. “Then let’s go.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

Jesse’s heart stopped, instantly assuming the worst. Who could blame her? There’d been one horrible shock after another.

“Why not? Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, but annoying. My lawyer warned me that there would be a pile of paperwork I would need to read and sign if they let me go today. I assume it’s his way of earning his outrageous fee.

” His gaze drifted to the gathered crowd, a shudder racing through his body that was wrapped in a suit two sizes too large.

“Besides, I’d rather wait for the gawkers to drift away before showing my face in public again. ”

Jesse glanced over her shoulder. The windows of the courtroom were large and arched, but the glass was frosted to mute the late-afternoon sunlight, leaving the dozen or so stragglers in gray shadows. Like black-and-white silhouettes.

One form remained apart from the others, openly glaring in their direction. The short, heavyset man wearing a deputy’s uniform stood with his hands planted on his hips, close enough to the handgun holstered at his side to be an unspoken warning.

Adam Tillman was only five years older than Jesse, who’d turned nineteen a month ago, but he looked at least twice her age. His round, pudgy face was twisted into a jaded expression, as if he harbored a general dislike for the world. Plus, there was something sinister about his squinty eyes.

Okay, Jesse might be a tad prejudiced against the deputy. He was the one who’d spent the past months digging up evidence against her father, even though she’d sworn under oath he’d never left the bar that night.

She didn’t know if he’d held a personal grudge against Mac Hudson, or if he’d somehow sensed that Jesse wasn’t being entirely honest. Whatever the case, he was a total jerk.

She turned back to meet her dad’s weary gaze. “Who cares about them?”

“I do.” He reached out to tug the end of her silvery-blond ponytail. “And if you’re honest, so do you.”

“Nothing matters but having you home where you belong,” she insisted.

He shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that. Not anymore.”

“Not sure about what?”

“Home being where I belong.”

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe it’s time for a change.” His voice was suddenly strained. “A new start.”

“Dad? Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched before he gave a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just relieved this is over.”

“Really and truly over,” she said, as much to reassure herself as her father.

“Go home, Jesse.” Leaning forward, Mac brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

She nodded, trying to ignore the darkness in his eyes. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

But it wasn’t.

Not ever again.

August 2025

Chicago, IL

The nightclub reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne.

Jesse wrinkled her nose as she strolled past the long bar that was reflected in the smoky, mirrored wall behind it.

On the other side of the space was a small, sunken dance floor framed by low booths with peeling plastic seats.

The walls were hidden behind the crimson wallpaper that was faded to a dull orange.

And above the dance floor was a glass booth for the DJ.

The place had been shuttered for months, but it wasn’t just neglect that caused the crumbling dust and sagging decay.

Everything about it was fake.

From the vinyl tiles on the floor, to the drop ceiling that was stained from leaks in the roof, to the metal finishings that had been coated with gold spray paint.

It was all a sham. Worse, Jesse suspected it was indication that the entire building was dodgy.

The electricity, the plumbing, not to mention the actual structure.

“Well?”

The low male voice brushed over her as smooth as velvet. With a tiny shiver, Jesse turned to glance at her companion. It’d been six months since Parker Moreau had taken a job at the club in downtown Chicago where she was currently employed as a bartender.

He’d been a perfect fit for the hipster vibe of the place, with the halo of brown curls that framed his heart-shaped face and tall, slender body. Add in the intense sexuality that smoldered in his mesmerizing black eyes and he’d been a customer favorite within the first week.

Jesse was the opposite of a hipster. Her blond hair was chopped into a short, pixie style when she’d left home years ago, and several tattoos had been added to her slender body as she’d moved from one city to another.

The only things that remained of the na?ve girl who’d fled her nightmares were the large, hazel eyes and the silver pickup truck that had once belonged to her dad.

Thankfully, her skill as a bartender meant she could get a job at the clubs that were willing to pay a decent wage, along with customers who were generous with their tips.

And even more thankfully, Parker had ignored the hundreds of women who’d done their best to capture his attention.

For whatever reason, he’d focused solely on Jesse, as if he’d been as gutted as she’d been at their first meeting.

Jesse had never believed in instalove. Sure, she’d been in lust at first glance, but love? Nah. Not until Parker.

One month after he’d arrived in Chicago, Parker had moved into her cramped trailer, which she’d parked at a campground an hour north of the city. Now they were preparing to take the next step in their relationship.

A huge, terrifying step.

Jesse swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “It’s rough.”

“A work in progress,” he corrected.

She glanced at the ceiling that was sagging beneath the weight of the disco lights.

“More work than progress.” She forced a smile as the expression of anticipation on his beautiful face started to dim. “Just like us.”

“Which are we? The work or the progress?”

She stepped forward, placing her palms flat on Parker’s chest. She could feel the damp perspiration beneath his silk shirt. It was smothering in the building without air-conditioning. Chicago was currently baking in the late August heat, adding layers of humidity to the high temperature.

“Both,” she murmured.

Parker bit his lower lip. It was sexy as hell. “You’re not as excited as I’d hoped you would be.”

“I’m excited. It’s just that I’m trying to be practical.” She slid her hands over his chest in a soothing gesture. “One of us has to be.”

“I thought this was our dream?” Parker wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against his body, which was surprisingly hard.

Beneath his expensive clothes, he was all toned sinew and muscle.

A benefit of his morning runs, which could last a solid three hours.

Jesse thought he was crazy to put in so much effort, but then again, she thoroughly appreciated the results.

“How many nights have we bitched that we’re wasted slaving away for employers who don’t have a fraction of our vision or talent? ”

“It’s what employees do. We go to work and bitch about working.”

“Maybe, but why be minimum wage drones making our bosses rich when that money could be in our pockets?”

He wasn’t wrong. She was increasingly tired of working for other people. But that didn’t mean she wanted to blindly leap into the abyss. Especially an abyss that smelled like sweaty armpits.

“And if it fails?”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does?”

“Then we pick ourselves up and start over.” He brushed his lips over her mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first time. For either of us.”

She shivered in pleasure. “That’s true.”

Lifting his head, he studied her with a brooding expression. “What’s really bothering you, Jesse?”