CHAPTER ELEVEN

HALEY

I knock on Mrs. Ainsworth’s door, the three of us standing there like we’re casual carolers.

For once, it’s Mrs. Ainsworth, not her daughter, who answers, and she looks none too pleased about it. Her beady eyes instantly fall upon Dane, looking him up and down, the corners of her mouth twisting in distaste. She looks back to Andy and me. “Look who’s come knocking… again.”

Dane extends his hand. “I’m Dane, Dane Carr.”

Mrs. Ainsworth ignores him and keeps her eyes fixed on me. “You didn’t pay up last time.”

Dane withdraws his hand. I almost want to apologize for Mrs. Ainsworth’s behavior, but she’s right. “I know, Mrs. Ainsworth, and I’m sorry, I really am, but—”

“But nothing,” she cuts in, stepping forward and wagging her finger in my face. “You Walkers have always been a bunch of no-hopers. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Dane shifts in front of me. “How much does she owe you?” he asks.

Mrs. Ainsworth eyes him again, but she can’t ignore him now he’s standing right in front of her.

“Twenty,” she mutters.

Dane pulls his wallet out and takes out a handful of bills, hundreds by the look of it. He hands them to Mrs. Ainsworth. “This enough?”

Mrs. Ainsworth thumbs through the money. “And who the hell are you, huh? Another quick fling?”

Dane looks at me and laughs before turning his attention back to Mrs. Ainsworth. He slips his wallet away. “I’ve already told you, and I’m going to tell you one more thing.”

“What’s that?” she barks.

Dane continues to smirk.

I’m getting nervous.

“The least you could do,” he says, “is have a little, just one iota, of appreciation for the fact Haley is about to go into town and pack supplies. You know, help out the good townspeople while you sit on your fat ass and watch Ricki Lake reruns.”

I’m shocked. No, I’m mortified. After this, Mrs. Ainsworth and Nancy are never going to babysit, let alone speak to me ever again. He’s ruined it all.

I’m about to speak up, apologize profusely, but Mrs. Ainsworth speaks first. “Fine,” she mutters, extending her arms. “I’ll mind him for a few hours while Nancy is out, but that’s all, you understand?”

I pass Andy over with his bag. “Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Ainsworth.”

She closes the door continuing to eye Dane.

I’m also staring at him in quasi-amazement. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He shrugs like it’s nothing at all. “Believe it.”

I can’t help the irritation seeping into my voice as hard as I’m trying to ward it off. “You could have really…”

“Pissed her off?” Dane laughs.

“I need her from time to time, Dane. It’s hard to find a babysitter in a town like this.”

He slides his hands into his pocket, eyes caught in the crossfire. “Alright, but you’re not a doormat, Haley. You can’t let these people walk all over you.”

“I don’t,” I protest.

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You sure about that?”

I know he’s right. I just don’t want to admit it. “It’s not like I’ve had a choice.”

“Until now.”

“Yes.”

As annoyed as I am, I still want to take Dane back home for more ‘adult’ activities, but the town needs me. Still, I can’t stop Dane’s words ping-ponging through my head.

Am I really a doormat?

I certainly feel like one after a hard day, down-trodden and used with little to show for it apart from what I’ve inherited, and I’m about to lose that.

“Where did you grow up?” I ask Dane as we walk, the ice having turned everything sharp.

He faces me. “Like I said, a town not dissimilar from this—same cold, same people, though no Haley Walker from what I remember, and I would remember you.”

“Do you miss it?”

He laughs, soft clouds puffing out from his mouth. “I can’t say I do. I’d much rather run down to the beach every morning than the General Store and its new shipment of canned tuna.”

“I’ve never seen the beach.”

He stops walking. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I told you. I’ve never left Merit.”

I could have told him I’m pregnant and I doubt his reaction would be this extreme.

“No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head, “you’re playing with me.”

“I kind of would like to be playing with you, but no, in that sense of the word, I am not. Merit’s been my home my entire life. It is my entire life.”

He continues to shake his head, hands on his hips. “Jesus. We’ve got to get you out of here. There’s a whole damn world out there you do realize.”

I roll my eyes. “I read. I have the World Wide Web.”

He laughs, kicking snow with his boots. “The simple fact you call it the ‘World Wide Web’ shows you how sheltered you are here.”

I don’t want to tell him how uneducated I really am. Mom always said you didn’t need that fancy kind of education, that ‘street smarts’ were far more important—not that the streets of Merit require any kind of smarts at all.

We arrive at the supply drive a little before mid-morning, the cold snap having frosted over the windows and doors of the garage.

Jeremy comes out rubbing his hands together. “Haley,” he beams, “I’m so glad you could come.” He looks to Dane. “And it’s nice to see you again. The ‘Inky Knight,’ wasn’t it?”

“Inky Knight?” I ask, confused.

“Never mind,” says Dane, extending his hand and introducing himself.

Jeremy scratches his head. “So, there’s a bunch of crates inside that need to be moved out to the truck. Can you guys handle that?”

“Sure.” I nod. “Whatever you need.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Jeremy smiles.

Jeremy’s like me—a towner through and through. His folks run an accounting business down the road, attend church on Sundays, and eat out at the diner once a week. You almost always know where to find them.

We get to work. It’s clear Dane’s a curiosity. Some dart stolen glances his way. Others are far more blatant, eye-balling him as he passes.

He pays them no attention, easily lifting the crates off the floor and transporting them outside. He selects the lighter crates for me, helping me out where necessary. I think old Mrs. Maxwell has a near coronary when Dane gives me a playful slap on the behind. She’d keel over for good if she knew what he was doing last night.

Dane takes another crate, lifting it onto his shoulder like it’s full of feathers.

I crouch and struggle to pick up my own, a crate full of bread.

I manage to stand, but the crate’s too heavy. I take one step and over-balance, the crate crashing to the ground and shattering, loaves of bread rolling into the dirt.

Now I am the star attraction.

I’m blushing with embarrassment, rubbing my knee when the guy Jeremy put in charge of the crates, a solid individual by the name of Buck, spots my predicament. He stands over me and takes off his trucker cap, shaking his head. “It’s ruined, Haley. You’ve gone done and spoiled it all. What were you thinking?”

I hang my head. “I’m sorry, Buck. I slipped.”

“You’d think this would be simple enough work,” he continues, “but I guess even this is beyond you.”

I fight back tears. “I know.”

“Hey!”

We turn together to see Dane placing his cart down and storming over.

Others start to emerge, ringing around us for the spectacle.

“Who the hell are you?” asks Buck.

Dane stops a foot from his face. “Does it fucking matter? You can’t talk to her like that.”

Buck puts his cap back on and straightens up, chewing as he speaks. “Look here, pretty boy, this ain’t your business.”

Dane doesn’t back down. “I’m making it my business.” He swivels to address the others gathered, everything silent but for the booming sound of his voice. He reaches down and helps me up. “This woman is not going to be your whipping post any longer. Am I making myself clear?”

There’s silence.

“Haley does nothing but help around this sorry excuse for a town,” he goes on, “and how do you idiots repay her? You kick her down, because what? Because you’re better than her?”

A woman leaning by the apples speaks up. “Hmm, looks to me like little Haley Walker’s got another man wrapped around her finger.”

Dane rounds on her. “Now, that really is none of your fucking business, is it?”

Buck spits to the floor. “Well, maybe if she learned to close her le—”

Dane’s fist is rising as Jeremy bursts in. “Hey, hey, hey!” he shouts, coming between Buck and Dane, a hand pressed against each of them. “What the hell is going on in here?”

“Trouble,” Buck replies. “The slippery, out-of-town sort we don’t take too kindly around here.”

“Can’t say I feel welcome,” Dane replies, lowering his fist.

Buck points to the broken crate at my feet. “Just look what she’s gone and done, Jer. That bread’s no good now.”

I hate to think what would have happened if Jeremy hadn’t showed up.

But Dane’s right. You know he’s right.

I’m torn. I should act, but the temptation to fall back into my usual ways is too strong.

Jeremy lifts his eyes from the crate to mine. He claps his hands together, attempting to take control. “Okay, how about you clean that up, Haley, and get back to work. Show’s over.”

Dane doesn’t say anything, but he watches me, his eyes imploring me to do something. It’s up to you what happens next, they say.

A hot anger rises up in me that’s fresh and new, a steely resolve I haven’t felt in years.

Enough.

Enough is enough.

I cross my arms. “No.”

Jeremy swivels back around. It’s pin-drop quiet. “Sorry?”

My resolve falters, but when I look at Dane it builds right back up. Keep at it, he’s telling me. “No,” I continue, “we’ve been at this for three hours. I need to get back to my son.”

I plant my feet, my body stiff and unyielding.

Jeremy’s momentarily stunned. I think they all are.

When no one speaks, I fill the silence. “There’s more than enough people to help out here, and I’m not going to stand for the way I’m treated anymore. I’m sick of being the local doormat.”

I want desperately to fall apart, to start shaking or lose it, but I manage to hold myself together while Jeremy continues to gawp and gape. His mouth moves, but he can’t seem to find any actual words to speak.

I look around, moving my hands to my hips. “Anyone else got something to say?”

Faces turn away to look at the ceiling or floor—all except Dane. He’s smiling, wide as can be. I half expect him to break into applause.

I want to smile too, but I keep a stern, serious expression glued to my face. “Okay then.”

I take Dane’s hand and walk through the doors.

I go to turn back, but Dane squeezes my hand. “No, keep walking.”

It’s only when we’re safely around the corner, well out of sight of the garage, I allow myself to breathe. I’m feeling confident, energized and empowered, and it’s all because of Dane.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, holding my face and lifting it towards him. “That was fucking badass, you know? I’m talking some real gangster, Wonder Woman shit right there.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not Wonder Woman.”

“I’ve seen that whip on the wall back at your place. Play your cards right and I’ll let you put it to use on me.”

I roll my eyes again, tugging his hand. “Come on.”

I walk on a cloud, not the sidewalk. I’m so much lighter, buoyant. Everything’s clear and fresh. Even the bitter cold can’t get me down.

Apprehension starts to worm its way in, of how people are going to react now, after what I just said. Walkers aren’t the type to make a fuss, to draw any kind of attention. I almost feel like I’ve betrayed the family name.

Sensing it, Dane says, “You did the right thing. Don’t worry about tomorrow or the next day, the fallout I know you’re thinking about. It’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

And I believe him. After that mind trick he pulled with Mrs. Ainsworth, I’m pretty sure anything is possible when it comes to Dane Carr.

I’m so caught up I don’t see a patch of ice coming, slipping sideways into a fresh dumping of snow on the shoulder of a park.

I tug Dane down with me into the snow, walled on either side of us, blocking us out from the world.

I laugh and smile, Dane holding himself above me before lowering his head and locking me in a kiss.

I reach up to his face and pull him into it, letting my tongue explore his mouth and press forward with urgency.

My body responds, heating quick against the snow.

I hold him by the back of the neck, never wanting this kiss to end.

We’re deep in the snow, but this is still out in the open. Anyone could stumble upon us here, which is why, when Dane’s hand snakes down the front of my jeans, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.

His tongue slides against mine, his hand finding the curved cleft of my pussy hot and slick.

I’m burning up here, lost in impure thoughts, and I want it. I want it so bad it hurts.

I grasp and claw at his jacket and neck, hands running up into his dark hair, tugging at him as his lips drop down my jugular, continuing downwards while two fingers slip inside my slickness, his thumb padding my clit.

“Dane,” I moan, eyes closed against the falling snow, fat flakes of it melting on my features, a cold juxtaposition to the wet inferno between my legs.

My heels kick and slide against the snow, my back growing wet and the crazy contrast of sensations pushing me close to climax.

I kiss him again, nipping at his lower lip a woman possessed, mad with power and lust and newfound confidence.

It’s only when he goes to tug down my pants, I bring a hand up to stop him. Some measure of reason has found its way through.

“I want to. I want to so bad, but we have to pick up Andy.”

Dane nods in acknowledgement. “And when he goes down tonight?”

I bring my head up, placing my lips against his ear. I press my hand against the crotch of his pants, find him hard as always. “Then I will go down.”