Chapter 35
Joel Dawson scanned the list of names on Ethan’s phone. Five spanning back twenty-five years and then another three in the last twelve months. All women. And if they’d been murdered—which it sure as hell looked like they were—none of them had gotten the justice they deserved.
He locked the screen and set it on the table before sliding it back to Ethan.
His team talked around him. These weren’t just friends. They were men he considered brothers. And now they were living in the same town. Working together. Seeing each other every day.
Everything about this beat Houston. Though, that city itself wasn’t the problem—it was his parents. It would always be his parents.
They had money. Not the big-house, fancy-car kind of money. This was different. His father wasn’t just a boss—he was the CEO of Dawson Energy Services. A company that drilled land and made a shitload of cash every second of every day.
They were the reason he’d joined the military, to get the hell away from them and the person they wanted to mold him into.
“Here you go.”
The smooth, airy voice had Joel’s gaze lifting and a smile tugging at his lips.
Polly Mack—the biggest walking contradiction he’d ever met. She was all soft and feminine and gentle. Well, gentle with Maggie and people she liked. But she was also sharp and fiery and had a hell of an attitude that she loved to aim his way.
Then he spotted his drink. While the guys all had plain white mugs, his was pale pink with a darker pink rim around the top. He turned it around to see “cup of calm for drama queen” written on one side.
His lips twitched. “Run out of plain mugs, Sunshine?”
“Nope.” There was just enough of a pause to have a couple of the guys chuckling. “Something wrong with that one?”
“Not at all. I love pink. And it’s not the first time I’ve been called a queen.” He sipped his coffee, and shit, it was so good. How this woman always made the perfect cup, he had no idea.
She half rolled her eyes before returning to the counter.
He bit back a laugh. She’d wanted a reaction out of him, but she hadn’t gotten it.
Connor frowned at him. “What have you done to that woman?”
“Just been my charming self.”
Connor glanced at the counter then back. “Be careful. She’s Maggie’s best friend, and if she’s important to Maggie, she’s important to Ethan.”
“You think I’d do something to hurt her?”
“I think you don’t date.” Connor sipped his coffee. “I don’t judge you—I know why relationships aren’t your thing. Just make sure she knows that about you if anything happens.”
“Nothing’s going to happen.”
Connor lifted a brow…and yeah, even Joel had to silently admit the words felt wrong coming out of his mouth, though he had no clue why.
His cell rang from the table, and he bit back the curse when he saw who it was.
Connor’s gaze caught the screen. “Have you spoken to her lately?”
“No. But that hasn’t stopped her from calling.”
“Maybe you should answer. Take the call and you might get a few days’ reprieve.”
Yeah, fucking right. Any peace he’d get from taking a call would last a week, tops, probably less.
The phone stopped ringing, then immediately started again.
Goddammit.
He grabbed the cell and moved to a quiet corner of Bloom to take the call. “Mom.”
There was a pause over the line. “You answered.”
“You called twice.”
“Yes, well, I want to talk to you.” There was another small pause. “It’s nice to hear your voice. How are you?”
So formal, as usual, like she was talking to a colleague. “I’m good. I’ve settled into Deep River and it’s great to be back with the guys.”
There was a small huffing sound. His mother probably thought he couldn’t hear it. “Your father and I miss you.”
No. They didn’t miss him. They missed what he could do for them. Because in the world of Martha and Grant Dawson, it was always about money and what each relationship could bring to the table. How it could help increase their wealth.
“I’m actually out right now, Mom, so I don’t have much time for small talk. Is there something you need?”
“Your father and I would like to discuss your commitment.”
His fingers tightened around the phone, a familiar pit forming in his stomach. “I never made you a commitment.”
“Joel. You know that being a Dawson comes with certain responsibilities. We let you do your military thing—”
“My military thing? You mean working my ass off to join one of the most elite, demanding units in the world, then risking my life for years to defend my country?”
His mother sighed. “Yes, that’s what I meant. You’ve done that, now we need you here.”
“I’m not coming back. This is my life, and the faster you and Dad accept that, the easier it will be for everyone.”
He hung up, his heart pounding, but not in fear or panic. In anger. He should be used to them by now. He’d lived his entire life putting up with their shit, but nope, they still managed to hit at his armor.
He looked back at the guys, then shifted his attention to the counter. Another woman was serving at the front, but it was Polly he couldn’t tear his gaze from. She stood a few feet back, a deep frown between her brows as she typed something into her phone.
Like his feet had a mind of their own, they crossed the café toward her.
She stepped into what looked like an office off the kitchen near the back door. The woman at the counter was too busy serving to notice him walking right into the kitchen, then into the room after Polly.
He’d barely stepped inside when she turned—then gasped as she almost collided with his chest.
“Holy shit, Joel! What are you trying to do, summon my ancestors?”
A grin curved his lips. “Just checking on you, Sunshine.”
“I told you—don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not sunshine, and I know it.”
Not actually true. She did brighten his day because every insult made him smile. Every glance. Hell, even the eyes rolls were growing on him. “You don’t think very much of me, do you?”
Right on cue, she rolled her eyes. It was the third time she’d done it that day.
She went back out to the café, straight to the coffee machine, where she yanked an order slip off the row. “My opinion of you is exactly as it should be. And you’re not supposed to be back here.”
“I came to check on you. Did something on your phone make you unhappy?”
The reaction was small. A slight tightening of her fingers around the handle of the tamper she used to press the coffee. A tiny narrowing of her eyes. “I was fine. I am fine. I just have some…family stuff going on.”
So he wasn’t the only one.
He scanned the café, his mind going back to that list on Ethan’s phone. “You’re leaving work while it’s still light, aren’t you?”
She stopped working the machine and frowned up at him. “Why?”
“Because there are still women unaccounted for.”
One side of her mouth lifted. “You worried about me, Dawson?”
Yes. “I want you to be safe.”
There was a small flare of her eyes. Then she blinked. “I am. And I can look after myself.” She gave him a big shove. “Now get out from behind my counter.”
The problem with small towns was that everyone felt too safe, especially people who’d lived in them their entire lives, like Polly.
He returned to the table.
Connor glanced at him. “Everything okay?”
Connor was probably talking about the call with his mother, but she wasn’t even on his mind. His attention returned to Polly at the coffee machine. “We need to figure out what the hell is going on with those missing people. Until we do, every woman in this town could be in danger.”
He hated the thought of any woman being at risk, but there was something about Polly that had awakened the most primal, protective parts of him, and losing her was an idea he couldn’t begin to fathom.
Order book two, Polly and Joel’s story, Ashes by the Shore, now!