Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Vaughn
“I’m so sorry, hun, but we are all booked up for the next two weeks.” The white-haired lady behind the ancient countertop gives me a sympathetic smile.
“What in the hell could be going on in this town to cause every hotel to be booked?” I lost the last shred of my patience somewhere between not finding anything online to book, seeing vacation rentals for thousands of dollars per night, and walking into the only bed-and-breakfast in town.
It was the last place I could think of that I might be able to rest my head.
“Oh, there’s that big sports shindig happening. I don’t rightly know all the details, but people from all over the world are in town,” she preens. “I’m hearing places are booked up all the way to the northside.”
That’s another two-hour drive, and it’s already after nine at night. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I give in to reality. I don’t have another two hours in me.
“Sorry, honey, this event is bigger than when the Olympics came to Atlanta.”
Tapping my fist on the counter, I mutter, “Thank you anyway.”
“Well, give me your number, and if anything comes open, I’ll call.”
I share my info and retreat to my rental car once again. I side-eye the small hatchback as I round the hood. Guess I could let the seats down and try to stretch out in the back. Or if the seats recline enough, I could rough it for a night.
Hell of a lot of good it’ll do me when I’m in town for an indeterminate amount of time. Kicking my own ass for not keeping in touch with any of the people in town from so long ago, I try to imagine someone who might have pity. I could play the sailor card, but my pride won’t let me.
I run through my list of contacts to see if there’s anyone else I haven’t thought of who might be nearby. When my scroll results in no one other than Gus, I toss the damn phone into the passenger seat. It’s going to be a long night.
* * *
A bang jolts me from a dead sleep, and I jerk, jamming my knee into the steering wheel. I throw my arm over my face to block a blinding light from outside.
“Fuck,” I groan into the chilled interior of my tiny-as-fuck rental. The unpredictable early-spring temps adding one more uncomfortable challenge to the night.
Another metallic tap rings at my car window. “Sheriff’s Office. Sir, roll the window down.”
Doing as he asks, I turn the car on enough to roll my window down, being sure to keep my hands where he can see them. I knew parking in the library’s parking lot was a bad idea. Too bad they don’t have a Walmart in town.
“Need your ID.”
I nod at the rough command while he does a visual sweep of the interior of the car.
“You realize you can’t be loitering on private property? Mind stating your business?”
“Trying to visit family,” I mutter, prying my driver’s license out of my wallet.
My brain starts coming online as he inspects my identification. I check my watch. It’s only been two hours since I found this lot and pulled in and passed out.
“Vaughn Adams,” he states. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
With the light not shining directly into my eyes, I can see him better. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, and I catch his name tag.
Layton.
“Dex?” Holy shit. Immediate relief washes over me. Also immediate embarrassment at being caught essentially trespassing by someone from my past.
Back in high school, Dex and I shared a weight-training class. He’d been a scrawny freshman during my senior year when my world turned to shit. Sucks that he’s seeing me at what feels like a second all-time low.
“One and the same,” he says, grinning at me as I give him a thorough once-over.
“Damn. You got bigger.” I shift to offer him my hand, and immediately, my back and hips twinge in pain.
“You mind if I get out of the car? I’ve been traveling forever, and I need to stretch.
” It’s been a long time since I’ve had to suffer through being so uncomfortable for an extended period of time. I’ve gotten soft.
He steps back, and I unfold from the matchbox of a vehicle and stretch out my cramped body.
“Had a good mentor in high school who got me hooked on the weights. Haven’t seen you in years, man. What in the hell are you doing sleeping in your car in a parking lot?”
“Came to town to sort some business with Gus.” I wonder if he knows all that went down and the reasons I left and never looked back.
“How is that cranky old bastard? Heard he had a new live-in nurse.”
The mechanics of small-town living never cease to amaze me. Everyone in each other’s business, but the rare few stepping in to truly help. I imagine a lot of people avoided Gus. He’s already proven to be a literal pain in my ass, and I’ve not even been in town for twenty-four hours.
“Older and crankier than ever. To answer your question, I tried to find a hotel room, but everything’s booked, and I don’t have another hour’s drive in me.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy packed. Why not stay with Gus?”
I give him the side-eye and repeat his words. “Cranky bastard.” I’m not about to admit that my own family refuses me.
“Damn. I’d offer you my couch, but I’m having my place fumigated. My roommate’s daughter brought home a fleabag stray and hid it in her room long enough to cause problems.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. I flew in from Bali yesterday and just needed a few hours to crash out.”
Around us, the night sky is filled with a million stars framed by pine trees.
Dex’s cruiser idles nearby, the interior looking more like a mobile office than a vehicle. He gives my rental another glance, and I grow uncomfortable, even though I know the only thing he sees is the small carry-on bag and backpack.
“You could’ve at least put the back seat down.”
“Tried. It’s stuck.” I scrub a hand over my face, something I’ve been doing continually since I arrived back in town.
Whether I’m trying to wipe away the exhaustion or reality, I’m not sure at this point.
It’s a few days, and then I can get back to Bali—back to my life there.
“You know of a place open at this hour where I can grab a coffee, maybe do some work for a while?” I glance at my watch.
It’s unlikely a town this small has anything open at three a.m.
Dex winces. “Not really the twenty-four-hour kind of town. We’ve grown over the years, but not that much.”
It’s becoming clear what my only option is. I just hope it doesn’t result in getting me shot.
“Okay. Could you do me a favor?”
“Of course, man. Anything.”
“Ignore any trespassing calls you get from Gus’s? I’ll park at his barn and spend the rest of the night in my car.”
“In your car?” Dex looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Slept in worse.”
Twenty minutes later, with Dex’s assurances that he will try to intercede should Gus create problems for me, but also with a warning that he’d have to handle the issue if the old man pushed a trespassing complaint, I cut the lights and drive onto the property for a second time, creeping past the main house to the backside of the barn.
There’s a lean-to here, one side housing a vintage tractor, the other sheltering a vehicle under a cover.
That could be the truck Gus and I bought to restore together half a lifetime ago. It must’ve been too much to look at, because it’s hidden by a weathered car cover. Tucked away on the far side of the barn where it can be out of sight and out of mind.
Just like me.
I crack a window and listen, waiting for the rack of a shotgun or footsteps or something.
The full moon illuminates the fields around me, beckoning me to bask in its glow. I close my eyes, ignoring the pull to get out and explore this place of my past. Ignoring the memories I know I’ll have to face. There are some things here that can only be faced in the light of day.
* * *
A rhythmic clank of metal is the first thing I hear as my brain comes online after passing out for a short nap. The moon is still high and bright, but its position in the sky has changed. My watch shows it’s been a mere three hours.
The clanking pauses, and I wait on pins and needles for someone to step around the side of the barn and find me.
Instead, the noise resumes, the measured rhythm finding its way through the fog of the past. It reminds me of the weights I used back in high school, the way they’d clang and ping together.
It’s not like Gus is going to be working out in the barn, though it might not even be that.
It could be someone playing in the forge on the back side of the barn. Maybe a neighbor?
Drawn by a nostalgia I wish I could ignore, I slip from the car and fold into the shadows, avoiding the shaft of light illuminating the ground from the double doors that have been left open.
The flame-haired pain in my ass is in front of a weight bar. A black mat designed to minimize impact covers the barn floor. It’s the only improvement to my ancient weight set.
She moves through a set of cleans, lifting the heavy metal bar in a technically perfect motion.
With her facing the sidewall, I’ve got the perfect view of her form.
Straight back, bent knees, elbows high and tight as the explosion from her hips drives the bar from the ground, and then a tight compaction as she drops underneath before pushing up to full extension.
I do a mental tally of the weight she’s moving.
It’s a lot, even for some men, and the sight is oddly arousing.
Sweat glistens on the skin not covered by a sports bra and matching shorts. Hair pulled tight from her face by a band that wraps around her head and over her ears, as if she can’t be bothered by sweat-soaked tendrils sneaking loose and interrupting her focus.
She does three cleans, then drops to the floor gracefully, powering through five burpees in a display of athleticism that leaves her breathless and my cock stirring.