Chapter Three
Jolene-Present Day
" C ome on, Jo-Jo. Just give him a chance," Sol pleads his case, but I'm too pissed at him.
I just keep trudging through the back field at the farm, acting like he and Thatch aren't hot on my heels.
"Fuck off, Sol."
"Seriously, Jo," Thatcher chimes in. "People already talk about how odd you act around Beau. Would it hurt you to be a little nicer to him?"
"I don't give a fuck what people think, Thatch. Besides, what good could come out of me befriending a cop? You both know how dangerous spending time around him would be."
"We promise we will never say anything. You know we don't love how you put yourself at risk to help the women in the area escape their shitty situations, but we understand why you do what you do.
That's why we're both willing to help you.
Plus, he's pretty cool and wants to make changes here.
He's already done a ton at the station to get rid of the dirty cops.
It's only a matter of time until he's in charge, and maybe then you won't have to be G.I.
Jo anymore," Thatcher reassures me without giving my secret away to Sol.
Whipping around, I chuck my metal can koozie at Thatcher's head. I fucking hate when these two gang up on me and try to push me to do something I don't want to or am not ready to do.
“Fuck you, Thatcher,” I growl and spin to give Sol my full attention. “And fuck you too.” I turn and keep walking.
I know Beau is doing great work at the station and in our community, but it's still not enough. I'm glad he's helping make our town safer and the townspeople’s lives better, but our system is flawed.
It's not enough.
Too many are still falling through the cracks.
That's where I come in.
I have a unique skillset and the smarts to execute them. It also doesn't hurt to fuel my sadistic side that enjoys paying back every piece of shit that it can. Call me sick or crazy, and you'd be right, but don't say that what I'm doing isn't helping.
“Besides,” I holler over my shoulder, “you know Nana gets the scoop before everyone else in this town. Are you going to encourage her to quit passing on information that helps save countless lives? She’s invaluable.
You both know how much everyone benefits from having a long-standing business owner like Nana in town, who is willing to vouch for someone being a hard worker.
What we do here matters, so quit fucking try to persuade me otherwise. ”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jo-Jo. I agree with you, but if you could get over your hang-up with the good cop, I think it could go a long way to helping even more people.” Sol slings his arm over my shoulder but jumps back before my elbow connects with his ribs.
I'm stomping ahead of the guys as we walk to one of my favorite spots on the property. When Sol and I were in high school and needed an escape from reality, we used to run to the woods. We cleared out a spot and built a crash pad.
We scavenged what we could from the farm, but neither of us was very handy with a power saw. That's when Thatcher joined our merry gang of misfits. Well, Thatch has always been around, but it wasn’t until we were both older that we grew closer.
Thatch has this ease about him; it soothes the wild flowing through me and Sol’s trauma that still lingers from the hell his childhood was.
Being older, he also helped guide us through some pretty heavy shit, and finally convinced Mama and Nana to allow me to tell him what was tearing me up inside.
It was out, working in the woods with Sol and Thatcher, that I finally told them what happened to my dad.
I was able to admit that I was beating myself up inside because I didn't feel an ounce of guilt or remorse about what I’d done.
These two have stuck by me like glue since then and even protect my crazy ass when they can. Neither has ever seen me in my element, though. If they had, I'm sure they'd be just as worried, but for completely different reasons. Thankfully, I'm pretty damn good at keeping the crazy at bay.
Sol was my first kiss, while we sat at a fire at our spot, but that's all I've ever been acquainted with his lips and all I'd ever want to be.
We were both a little anxious about our first kiss, so we figured we'd try together.
We made out for about five minutes before we realized that kissing someone you have zero romantic feelings for isn't the best practice.
We each moved on to people we actually liked.
I learned real quick that I was not a fan of listening to Thatch’s and Sol's sexploits, and became a master of tuning the dumbasses out—like I've been doing since my outburst.
"I think the real issue, Sol, is that our little Jo-Jo actually does like Beau and it terrifies the hell out of her."
I stop in my tracks, my pulse racing as Thatcher hit the nail on the head, but I can't let him know he's right. There's no way to avoid someone when you live in a town as small as ours, but that's made even harder when your closest friends befriend the guy you're trying to avoid.
After hearing how great Beau was for the first six months he lived here, I decided it was time to do some digging of my own.
Call me a stalker, but I'd like to think of it as being prepared and knowing who could take me down.
What I didn't plan on was finding out everything I'd heard about Beau was true.
Everyone who has met him only has good things to say about him.
He grew up not far from here before he was adopted. Nobody could say why he was adopted as an older child. Upon some digging, I learned that Beau and I had a lot more in common than I thought, especially when it came to our childhoods.
I had my doubts when he came into town and was new to the department.
Since he was a younger guy, I figured he'd fall into step with the crooked older group.
Unbeknownst to me—and them—Beau was doing an internal investigation through the DA's office to eradicate corruption from our county.
He did such a good job that he was appointed the chief of police and has slowly been trying to clean up our town.
Nana and Mama have had their ears to the ground, and so far, it seems like nobody is looking into the large case of disappearances that happen in our area.
I've tried to be strategic as hell and not set any patterns that would make people question those who "leave", but I know Beau is smarter than most. He has a college degree backing that beautiful brain of his, and it's only a matter of time before he gets curious.
And if I didn't find all of this information about him intriguing enough, Beau Calhoun is hot as fuck.
I'm talking “five-alarm fire” hot, and I'm not the only woman who has noticed. Through the grapevine, I’ve heard about the several girls in town who tried shooting their shot, but nobody's been able to snag one of the most eligible bachelors, which makes me stupidly happy for reasons I choose to ignore.
"Oh, I think you hit a nerve, Thatch." Sol chuckles as he drops his cooler and tote bag full of food on the side table beside his seat at the fire ring.
Apparently, I didn't get my mask up fast enough, and Sol got a front-row seat to everything flashing through my brain. The smug bastard is smirking at me as he cracks open a cold beer.
I flop down in the chair next to him and flip him the bird, which only makes him smile bigger.
There’s no fire yet because it’s too hot, but the guys will have one going before long.
Beau is exactly my type: tall, with wild and curly brown hair cut into one of those popular mohawk styles, and the prettiest jade eyes I've ever seen. He's got a very short beard, almost like a five-o'clock shadow, that would feel like fucking heaven on my thighs.
During my information gathering session, I learned he was a damn good tight end and could've gone pro had he wanted to, but he chose to pursue a career in law enforcement.
Even though he's no longer playing, the man takes his physical health seriously.
I've seen him running through town shirtless, and he's just as ripped—if not more—than the pictures I could find from his college years show.
So, yeah. I know who Beau Calhoun is, and I'm nervous as hell to get to know him in person, but even more so for him to get to know me. I've got my dark and twisty parts; there's no way he would be okay with them.
I just don't get why Sol and Thatcher don't see how bad he would be for me.
“Fine. You’re right. You want a fucking cookie?” I grab Sol’s beer from his hand, then start chugging it.
"Well, you need to figure your shit out pretty quick because I invited him to come hang out with us tonight. He should be here in about half an hour." Thatcher, sitting across from me, cracks open his own beer.
"What the fuck, Thatcher?" I sputter, sending my beer flying everywhere. "Why would you do this to me?" My voice cracks as I fight to keep the tears in.
So many emotions flood me—excitement, anxiety, anger—but my fear wins out.
Jumping from the chair, I dash into the woods surrounding our hideout. I don't know why I have such a visceral reaction to a man I haven't even met, but I do, and I fucking hate it.
"Shit. I'm sorry, Jo," Thatcher calls from behind me.
There's no way he will catch me in here. The woods are dense, and I've been trained to move through them without a trace.
"Come on, Thatch. Just give her a minute to calm down, and she'll be back." Sol's voice fades the further I go.
With light feet, I race through the woods, not paying attention to where I'm going. It isn't until I hear someone humming happily that I realize I'm at Laura's little house.
Without a second thought, I let my feet guide me towards her and the calm she always brings me. "Hey, wench."
"Aaargh! Holy shit, Jo. You scared the piss out of me." Laura jumps, the flowers in her hands sent flying.