Текст книги "Physical Distraction"
Автор книги: Tess Oliver
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
He stared at my hand. “Nothing about this place is as it seems. You don’t want to dig too deep.” His brown gaze lifted to my face, and suddenly, all of it, the constant lines of sorrow in his expression, the brutal scar on his otherwise remarkable face, the deep, lost tone of his voice made me want to trust him. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, Tashlyn—give it up for good.”
I swallowed back the ache in my throat and stared down at him. “You don’t understand. I lost a piece of myself. I can’t give it up.” I pulled my hand from his and walked out.
Chapter 8
Jem
It had been a long, fucking day, and I was regretting my decision to hang out at Rotten Apples. The usual backroom poker game had been cancelled, and instead of a band, the manager was setting up the stage for karaoke. About the only thing that could make the night worse was if they announced that they’d replaced all beer with their famous apple martinis.
Katy, a girl who I’d occasionally hung out with mostly because we both liked casual sex, walked in and headed straight to my table. She pulled out a chair.
“I like that sweater,” I said just before taking a drink of my beer.
“You say that about all my sweaters.”
“That’s because I like them all. Especially when they are tight like this one.”
She leaned over and rested her hand high up on my thigh. “So, is it true?”
“That your hand on my leg is making my cock hard? Yep, it’s true.”
She laughed, pulled away her hand and smacked my shoulder. “God, you’re so damn predictable. No, is it true you pulled Finn Harris from the pond?”
“Yep, he fell in, and I pulled him out.” Finn had gotten off with just a bad concussion. The doctors had released him only a few hours after he was admitted. He’d been dealing with a shitty ass headache, but it wasn’t too big of a price to pay. I, on the other hand, had been suffering after Tashlyn’s first aid treatment in the locker room. And I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.
Dane walked back from the bar with another pitcher. Katy shot him a bitchy scowl. My brother ignored it because he couldn’t have cared less. It was one of the traits I envied in him, the ability to not give a damn what anyone thought or said. I was starting to harden myself to his way of handling other people, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
Katy scooted her chair closer and leaned against me so that her tits were pressed solidly against my arm. “I think you should buy me a couple of drinks, Jem Wolfe, and see where it gets you.”
I grinned at her. “Since when do I need to get you drunk to get between you and your panties?”
She leaned back and made a good show of acting shocked. It lasted for all of two seconds before she pressed against me again. “I’ve got my dad’s truck tonight. The one with the roomy backseat.”
“And the gun rack,” I added. “Don’t forget your dad’s hunting rifles. I know I never forget them cuz I figure one of those rifles is going to take my head off when he finds out I’ve been fucking his daughter in the backseat of his truck.”
“I know you, Jem, dangerous shit like that only makes you want it more.” She ran her tongue across her bottom lip. “But maybe you’re just not in the mood tonight.”
“Never said that.” I lifted my mug. “Just let me finish my beer.”
Dane leaned over. “Hey, I’m thinking of doing that fucking singing contest. Gabe said that they’re giving out a five hundred dollar prize for the best performance.” He spoke straight to me and completely ignored Katy. And if there was one thing Katy hated, it was being ignored.
Her chair scraped the hardwood floor as she pushed it back. “See you in ten?”
“I’ll be there with fucking bells on.”
She leaned down and pressed her lips against my ear. “Forget the damn bells and just make sure you have a condom.” She sashayed away with an exaggerated movement of her slim hips.
“Bitch,” Dane muttered. “Anyhow, what do you think? Should I go for it?”
“It’s your fucking pride, dude. I can’t sing worth shit, and you make me sound like a fucking Grammy winner. But, hey, without poker this place is dull as a fucking morgue tonight. So go for it.” I gulped back some beer. “Hey, by the way, thanks for your help today. Out on the water—Thanks.”
“Yep. Hey, what song should I sing?” And that was Dane. Deep down I knew he had some emotion, some fibers of being that made him more human, but he rarely showed even a spark of it. I had never figured out if keeping it all buried had helped him get through our crappy childhood or if that was just the way he was born. Being two years younger than Dane, my earliest memories of him were when he was six. He’d always been a little removed from anything happening around him, like he was living in his own separate world right smack in the middle of the real one. Even back when we were just two out-of-control boys playing bank robbers in the backyard, Dane was out for a good time and nothing else. He was rowdy as hell and the teachers never knew what to do with him. And none of it fazed him. But today, when I saw his face as I broke back through the surface, I saw it, that flicker of concern. He would never confess to it and he might very well have already forgotten that moment, but at the time, the incident had scared him plenty. It reminded me why I’d come back to this fucked up town. I’d spent my whole life watching his back, and in his own, less obvious way, he’d always watched mine.
Dane leaned back. He was wearing his usual head to toe black leather, including his black shit-kicker boots. It was a look that worked for him. Most people were afraid of him, of both of us for that matter, but Dane didn’t come after you unless you fully deserved it. And his anger, which rarely surfaced, was fucking explosive. I’d been on the receiving end of it twice growing up, and both times, I’d ended up with a trip to the emergency room. Fortunately, for the people of Blackthorn Ridge, he didn’t give a shit about much, so he rarely lost his temper. There were a few local women brave enough to date him. If he was a little less unpredictable, there’d be a lot more.
“Ozzy Osbourne,” Dane said as he lifted his beer mug.
“What about him?”
“I’m going to sing one of his songs. I think I can pull it off and snatch myself that five hundred bucks.”
“Well, I’ll be back in to cheer you on just as soon as I take care of some important business.”
“Yeah.” He motioned his head toward Katy who was giving me the hungry eye across the room. “There isn’t anything important or business-like with what you’re going outside to do.”
Chapter 9
Tashlyn
Everly stuck her phone back into her purse. “According to Hayden, who works at the grain and feed store and who is best friends with Finn’s sister’s workmate, Sally, who I can’t stand, by the way, Finn was released with a bump on the head and nothing more. Thank goodness. I only wish he’d be at Rotten Apples tonight to see me in this outfit.” She held up her arms and stared at the big bell shaped sleeves, a vintage shirt I had in my collection. It had once belonged to my aunt, and she’d graciously passed it to me when I spotted it looking mod and vintage and cool in her closet. Everly had pulled it out of my bag and fallen in love with it too. She paired it with a jean mini skirt and boots and she looked as if she’d just hopped out of a fashion magazine from the sixties.
With all she’d done for me, I was just happy that I finally had something to give her. I had no idea how to dress for a place called Rotten Apples, but my wardrobe was limited. I’d thrown on a faded calico dress and my favorite footwear, my worn out cowboy boots. Whenever I wore the dress and boots at home, Cormac would start talking with a southern twang. It always annoyed the hell out of me and he knew it, but that never stopped him. In retrospect, about the only time the guy wasn’t acting like a lofty, self-important ass was in bed.
“You look great, Everly. It’s a shame Finn will miss it.” I’d agreed to go out to the local bar only because Everly had been so excited about it. Her uncle had given her the night off, and I had no intention of letting her down.
“I’m so glad you came with me, Tash. Of the few friends I have, they are mostly a bunch of bores. They’re all right for a shopping trip or grabbing a coffee, but at a place like Rotten Apples, they stick out like a bunch of rotten apples. She chuckled at her play on words as she turned her car onto the main street. It chugged and lurched as we hit an uphill stretch of road. “Stupid old jalopy.”
“I’ve got to say, the name of the place doesn’t exactly make it sound inviting.” My first day at work had been long and extremely eventful. I would have preferred to drop into bed, making me just as boring as her other friends. Out of everything that had happened on my first day, it was still those few moments in the locker room with Jem that had drained me the most. There was something about him that put me entirely on high alert, mentally, physically and emotionally.
I’d jotted down only a few lines to Aunt Carly about the chaos in Mr. Stevens’ office and the two men nearly drowning. I’d decided to keep my postcards short, general narratives about my time here. Carly was the type who could read anything and make it into something to worry about. Especially when it came to me.
“I still can’t believe that Jem was the one to pull him out,” Everly said.
“Why not? He jumped in without even a second thought toward his own safety.” There it was again, my defensive tone, something that kept showing up unexpectedly when we were talking about Jem.
“Never said he didn’t.” She glanced over at me with a knowing smirk. “Oh my gosh, he’s gotten to you. Those devilish good looks have sucked you right in.”
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“It’s all right. It’s a perfectly normal response. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”
“I just think your uncle may have judged him too harshly. That’s all. Just think you can’t really know someone unless you really know them.”
“I don’t really know you, but I know that I like you and you’re smart and funny and, I might add, you have the coolest clothes.”
“And I really like you too, Everly. Let’s drop the Wolfe topic. What’s this place like? Is there a band?”
“Sometimes a local band will play, but tonight is the Karaoke contest. There’s usually a nice cash prize for the person who gives the best performance, as judged by the audience.” She adjusted her mirror to keep the headlights out of her eyes. “Darn truck. I heard there was a lot of construction on the main freeway, which means we’ll be getting a lot of the overflow traffic for a few weeks. It’s good for Milly’s Diner but bad for the rest of the town. There’ll be a lot more trucks on the road. Hey, just realized I still haven’t heard you play your guitar. Can you sing too?”
I shrugged. “A little.”
“You should try for the money. It’s usually a bunch of no talents up there. You might just win.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not too keen on singing in front of crowds.”
“Too bad. Sometimes the pot is as big as five hundred buckaroos.”
“Wow. Nice.”
Everly’s old car couldn’t keep pace with the other vehicles on the road. After being tailed for a mile by an obnoxious car with extra bright headlights, she pulled off onto a clearing. We waited for several cars to pass. As their headlights lit up the side of the road, I noticed a trailhead that had a locked gate across it.
“And now you see why I hardly ever drive. This car is just one step from the scrap metal graveyard.”
“It does seem to be taking its last breath.” I pointed ahead. “What’s the gate for?”
Everly leaned down and squinted through the windshield. “Shit, I didn’t notice where I’d pulled off.” She glanced back at the road and rolled back onto the highway. “That was Handel’s Trail. It goes along the west ridge of the mountain and circles down to the river. If you travel south, you eventually end up at a place that is supposedly a historical landmark, but it’s really just an old shed built into the base of the mountain.”
“I saw the marker for it when I stopped at Phantom Curve. It’s an old fur trappers’ shelter.”
“Yep. That’s it.”
“I did think it was a little ironic that the landmark was right next to such a dangerous section of highway.”
A dark sounding laugh shot from her lips. “That’s only half of the irony. The trailhead we just pulled away from, the one that now sits behind the locked gate, has an even more macabre history than Phantom Curve. There used to be a bus stop sitting right where I pulled my car off. It was the last place that four girls were seen before they vanished for good.”
“What? No. What is that like some town myth or ghost story to freak out newcomers?”
“Wish it was just a myth.”
I looked at her. The bell sleeve of the shirt I’d lent her had slipped back, exposing her scars. They looked waxy in the dark car. There were times when I’d completely forget she had them, and other times, when my gut crunched in pain for her, thinking about all that she’d endured. But it wasn’t the scars she was thinking about now.
“Jeez, did you know any of them?”
“Just one. We were in the same third grade class when she disappeared. Nadine Carbuncle. Everyone used to snicker when the teacher called her by her funny last name but she didn’t seem to mind. She was one of those kids who blended into the rest of the world, with the exception of her last name. I just remember her Care Bears lunchbox and she always colored between the lines and she was the first to learn her sevens times tables. God those sevens were a bitch, weren’t they? Still don’t know all of them. Nadine used to walk to the bus stop and then her mom would pick her up because she just happened to be the bus driver on that route. I always thought it was cool that her mom drove a bus. But one day, her mom arrived and Nadine was gone. It was just before spring break. No trace of her left behind. Not even the lunchbox. She was number four. The first three happened before I was born. My mom had gone to school with the first girl. She was twelve when she vanished. Only one was a girl who’d been passing through town to see her grandmother a few hundred miles away. I think she was fourteen. Police never found anything. They even sent in special detectives. Still do occasionally, when a family member steps in to revive the case. One of the detectives came through town just last month asking locals questions again. The townsfolk have an alternative theory that a vicious grizzly lives in that part of the woods. And, of course, there are all the wacky alien and witch theories. But it is strange how they all disappeared without a trace.”
“Wow, this town has seen its share of tragedy.” With the strange coincidental deaths at Phantom Curve and the missing girls, Blackthorn Ridge was certainly not your average remote mountain town.
“For awhile there were rumors that—” She stopped and seemed to reconsider what she was about to say.
I looked at her expectantly waiting for her to finish.
But she shook her head. “Jeez, let’s get off this topic. It’s given me the creeps, and we’re supposed to be out having fun.”
I sat back, slightly disappointed, but she was right. It was putting a wet, cold blanket on our mood.
I’d been imagining what a small town bar named Rotten Apples might look like, and the real thing did not disappoint. The only thing I hadn’t envisioned was the bright green neon martini on the corner of the sign. Otherwise, the slightly dilapidated building sat in the center of a parking lot, a lot that was filled with cars, trucks and motorcycles. “I guess this is the place to be on Friday night.”
“It’s either here or bingo at the church, dull political debating at the coffee house or the laundry mat.” Everly glanced over at me. “For the record, I’d choose laundry over the other two. My uncle was going to play some bingo tonight. Or, at least that’s what he said. He knows that I worry about him sitting all alone in his little house bingeing on Netflix shows. He might just have made the bingo plans up. His shaking problem has really slowed him down.”
“It’s terrible that the doctors can’t figure it out.”
The parking lot was nearly full. Everly drove down the last aisle and parked next to a pick-up truck. I opened the door and stepped out. Two people came around the back of the truck. I stopped short of running into the guy. He looked surprised to see me, which made sense. The girl at his side clung to him as if someone might snatch him away.
“Woodstock, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“Same thing as you—” I paused and glanced briefly at the girl. She was pretty with a lot of lipstick and a blouse that was more unbuttoned than buttoned. “Well, maybe not the same thing.”
He looked down at my dress and boots. “You look like you’re going in to do a country line dance. You here for the singing contest?” He seemed amused at the idea. Everly and the girl were standing in the little circle we’d made next to the truck, but he ignored them as if we were standing there alone.
“Maybe I am.” The usual tension tightened the air between us. He could rile me in an instant, and yet I had no urge to stomp away from him.
The girl gave him a tug. “Let’s go, Jemmy. I’m bored standing here.”
“Yeah, Jemmy, why don’t you and Katy run along and do whatever the hell you were planning,” Everly said with a roll of her eyes, “and we’ll head inside.” Everly took hold of my hand and pulled me along toward the bar.
I looked back over my shoulder. Jem had done the same. It was only a brief glance, but I could feel the heat of his gaze long after I’d turned back around.
Chapter 10
Jem
Katy unbuttoned the front of my jeans, but my gaze was still riveted to the girl walking into Rotten Apples. She disappeared inside, but I stared at the door waiting for the image of her to vanish completely. It never did. I was spending a lot of fucking time thinking about her, the way she looked, the way she moved, the way she talked, even the way her bottom lip twisted when something I said made her angry. Might have been why I kept teasing her, just so I could see that plump bottom lip curl. I’d never been so damn distracted by any girl in my life.
Katy’s hand slid down my pants, jarring me from my thoughts. “Shit, Jem, you’re not thinking about that girl in the shabby dress”—she curled her fingers around my cock as she spoke—“when you’re supposed to be thinking about me.”
Her words were like a cold slap because it was true. I was sitting in the backseat of the truck with Katy’s hand wrapped around my cock, and I was thinking about Tashlyn. This was fucking new, and I wasn’t liking it. I looked at Katy. “Not going to lie, I was thinking about her.” It was probably a stupid thing to admit with her fingers wrapped so tightly around me and so dangerously close to my nuts, but seeing Tashlyn had shocked me out of my backseat mood.
Thankfully, Katy released me without doing damage. She leaned back and scowled at me. “What the hell, Jem? Who is she anyhow? She has to be a freak if she’s hanging out with Everly.” She shivered dramatically. “Can’t hardly stand to look at her with that shriveled up arm.”
I zipped up my pants. “And that comment, sweetheart, just assured me that we’re done here. Go find someone else to sit under your daddy’s rifle rack.” I opened the door.
“You fucking lowlife, ex-con bastard,” she shrieked as she shoved both hands against me. “Everyone knows your dad murdered all those girls just like he killed his high school girlfriend. Just a matter of time before all of you, including that crazy brother of yours—” Her rant continued as I slammed the door in her face, leaving her sitting alone and pissed as hell in the backseat of her dad’s truck. With the daggers she was shooting at me from her scowl, I figured I was lucky that her dad’s gun rack was empty.
I headed across the parking lot wondering just what the hell I was doing. It wasn’t just because Tashlyn was fucking amazing to look at. Something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on, kept chipping at me, telling me that I needed to stay near her.
Dane was leaning at the bar counter talking to a couple of girls when I walked back inside. I ordered a beer and surveyed the room. Everly and Tashlyn had carried apple martinis to a counter high table at the back of the bar. There were already three guys circling them, Sam and Ace, ratchet-setters at the mill, and the third, Drake, a dickwad who was real good at losing money to me in poker. They were just standing with their beers and talking to Tashlyn, but I couldn’t stop from clenching my fists.
I walked over and placed my beer down hard on the table, causing the girls to startle. Everly raised her brow at me. “Can we help you?”
“Nope. Just resting my beer.”
Sam forced a friendly smile. “Hey, Wolfe, we’re just getting acquainted with our newest workmate. Maybe you should rest your beer somewhere else.” Sam had obviously strapped on his steel balls for his night out. Ace, a guy who always had way more sense than his buddy, looked at Sam as if he’d grown a pair of horns right out of his head. Ace’s shocked look seemed to make Sam rethink his original request. “Of course, it’s a free world and everything. So whatever,” he blurted so fast I thought he’d choke on his own tongue.
Ace wisely picked up his beer and walked away. Sam and Drake stuck around, looking a little less confident than when I’d first walked up.
Everly was standing between Tashlyn and me, but my attention went right to Tashlyn, my sole reason for making the trip across the bar. “You going to sing, Woodstock?”
Tashlyn shrugged. “You sure are interested in me competing up there. I figure either you want me to make a fool of myself or you’re thinking of trying for the money.” Sometimes she was flustered and shy when I was talking to her. Other times, like tonight, she was mouthy and sure of herself. I was liking both sides of the coin and wondering which girl would surface if I had her naked in my bed.
“What happened to Katy?” Everly piped up, making her usual disgust of me clear. I’d never had a problem with Everly. In fact, I had huge respect for a girl who’d braved roaring flames to save a friend’s life. But her Uncle Landon’s hate for the Wolfe family always showed on his niece’s face. She’d been preprogrammed to despise me her whole life, and that brainwashing wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Everly grinned at me. “Guess I always figured you for a minute man, Jem.” Sam and Drake got a good laugh out of her comment.
“Well, Ever, as usual, you have me figured all wrong.” I looked over at Tashlyn again as if she was the only person standing in the bar with me. Hell, as far as I was concerned, she was the only person in the whole damn place worth talking to. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
She dropped her face, pretending to focus on the drink in her hand. Long black lashes shadowed her pink cheeks. The shy, uneasy girl had returned. Fucking sweet and vulnerable and intoxicating to look at. Didn’t need beer or weed or anything for this kind of high, just the girl. But she was standing with Everly, who had no doubt filled her head with an ugly fucking description of me. And she probably hadn’t been too far off. But it didn’t bother me enough to pick up my beer and walk away.
The microphone released a high-pitched whistle as Gabe, the owner’s son, switched it on. “All right, there is a five hundred dollar pot for tonight’s contest, and we only have eight people signed up. If you still want to get in on your chance to win the money, go to the bar. Brooke has the sign-up sheet. You can pick your song from the list. Who is first?” he called to his bartender.
“Dane Wolfe,” Brooke called out. A good round of laughter and cheers rumbled through the bar.
Everly looked sideways at me. I shrugged. “You know Dane. He’d get up there and do a fucking striptease if it meant five hundred bucks. Actually, that’s probably not a good example. He’d do that for a pitcher of beer.”
Two minutes into Dane’s torturous rendition of Crazy Train, Everly looked over at Tashlyn. “Five hundred bucks and he’s part of the competition.”
Dane hit a note that sent everyone’s shoulders up around their ears. Tashlyn put down her drink. Every damn head in the place turned as she walked through the crowd to the bar. She signed up and was completely oblivious to the amount of attention she was drawing, completely unaware of the trail of glittering light that was following her through the dark, crowded room. Or maybe I was the only person who saw the glow.
Katy had walked back inside, and I was getting the full evil eye from her and her friends. Yet the scowls they were shooting my direction were light-hearted compared to the looks they were tossing at Tashlyn. Again, Tashlyn had no clue it was happening, but Everly, who knew the venom of Katy and her friends, caught it right away.
Everly raised a brow and huffed angrily at me.
“What are you huffing and puffing about, Ever? Or is it just my presence that’s irritating you?”
“Yes, that is it. Plus, now you’ve fired up the bitch posse across the way. Tash will probably get tomatoes thrown at her on stage.”
Tashlyn, who’d been genuinely sizing up the competition, caught the remark. “Who wants to throw tomatoes? I haven’t even gone on stage yet.”
“The girl, who, at the first sight of you, Jem so politely jilted tonight is extremely pissed. And trust me, her middle name is Bitch.”
Tashlyn’s wide blue eyes peered up at me over Everly’s head. “I don’t understand.”
I tilted my head at Everly. “She tends to be dramatic.”
“Since when?” Everly snapped.
“Uh, since the fourth grade when I cheated off your paper, and we both got sent to the principal’s office. Or did you forget that you threw up twice on the way up there?”
“Yeah, because you cheated, and I was being sent up the river for it.”
I smiled. “Ah confess, Everly, you pushed your paper so I could see it.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure of that.”
“We have a new face in the crowd,” Gabe announced when the music stopped. “Tashlyn, come on up. It’s your turn. I see you picked Anna Nalick’s Breathe. Good choice.”
She gave Everly a quick hug and pointed to me. “If I die of humiliation up there, it’s going to be your fault.” She took a long sip of her martini and scooted around the table. I followed her to get a better view. I pushed through the crowd gathered around the stage and got a few grunts of complaint, until they saw it was me. They made room for me up front. One of the perks of being a Wolfe.
Tashlyn looked nervous, and suddenly, I just wanted to be up there with my arms around her.
The room was dead silent as she climbed onto the stage. But it wasn’t only because she was new to the town. She was just that incredible. And as she turned toward the audience, she looked anxious as if she wanted to be any place but on the stage.
My throat tightened as she stepped reluctantly up to the microphone.
“Hey, Tash,” I said quietly.
She gazed down at me with a pleading look that seemed to say ‘help me’. There was something so familiar about it, it nearly kicked the breath from me. It took me a second to find my voice. “Knock ‘em dead, Woodstock.”
The guitar music thrummed through the bar. Everyone stood stock-still watching the girl on stage. She wrapped her fingers around the mic and her lips parted.
The ache in my chest deepened. The first time I saw her I was saving her guitar from my brother’s clumsy hand. I figured she could probably hold a tune. But this wasn’t just singing. The sound of her voice put a whole new meaning into the word heartbreak. I stared up at her and wondered if in the shitty darkness that was my life, I was looking at my moment of light.
I hadn’t noticed that Dane had walked up next to me until he spoke. “Guess we should have figured she’d have a voice to go with the rest of her.” It took a lot to get my brother’s attention, but Tashlyn had definitely grabbed it. We both stared up at her and listened to her sing.
“Fuck, there goes my five hundred bucks.”
