****
Loren
I glance down at my watch and let out a groan. Jasper is going to be all over my ass. Unless I switch shifts, I’m stuck working with that tool. And since I don’t go out at night, I’m stuck with the early birds and the worm.
But despite the knowledge that I’m going to be under his watchful eye for the next eight hours, I’m allowing myself to cling to the ember of hope flickering deep within my soul. Braxton is alive and here in the city. Forever isn’t too far away.
I keep burying the seedlings of doubt and uncertainty that keep threatening to flourish, the ones that question what he’s been doing for the past six weeks, since no concrete answers were actually uttered after those hours of toe-curling ecstasy. Truth be told, I had no intention of disrupting the post-coital bliss with such an unpleasant conversation, but the comfort I’d felt when I was wrapped in his arms vacated soon after they let go, leaving me cold, exposed, and vulnerable.
Pathetic. A shell of my former self.
Dammit! Enough of this damsel in distress bullshit! I need to channel my inner bitch. It’s time to take my life back, once and for all.
Brax will be back, and I need to be ready to face whatever comes next. There is a good reason for his radio silence. He asked me to trust him, and I owe him that.
I swipe the beads of perspiration from my forehead as I trot down the sidewalk toward the coffee house.
Still…
Knowing so little puts me at a disadvantage. It’s hard to anticipate my next move when I don’t even know for sure who I’m running from, and if they’ve already closed in on me. On us.
I know one thing for sure; Gaetano Vergara is one badass motherfucker. I’d seen him murder in cold blood, smiling as life drained from the body of his victim. I’d seen the look in his beady black eyes the night he tried to take mine. It’s an image forever branded into my memory. He’s got enemies for years, and an even bigger army of followers, who will exterminate anyone who breaches the very secure perimeter he’s built.
How ironic that the very people I’m running from are the ones who once gave me my beacon of hope. I’d unknowingly put my life at risk when I started working at the restaurant, never dreaming I’d walk in on a bloody scene like the one that nearly got me killed, never considering the fact that the angel I’d been waiting for would appear to me in that den of terror, reaching out with bloodstained hands and offering his heart.
Braxton had a rough life, that much I knew. But details were never discussed. He didn’t offer insight to his past, and he always deflected my questions. Since I hated reminiscing about what I’d lost, the past was an off-limits conversation. Instead, we started to focus on the future, on Lily, Decker, the white-picket fence, and the lake. Our lost souls sought solace in one another, and our therapy was dreaming about our future together; a happy time when all ills would be remedied, all hurts would be healed, and all anguish would be soothed. It would be a time when our broken spirits would become whole again.
What happened before we came together didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that we’d found each other. Kindred spirits who’d found love, so deep and pure amid the stench of death and deception.
I run a hand through my hair and pull open the door. Jasper’s dark eyes meet mine. Without a word, I avert my gaze and hurry into the back room to grab my apron and hat. The door slams behind me and my head snaps up.
“Leaving the counter unattended? Isn’t that against policy?”
Jasper folds his arms, his lips curling up in a sneer. “Showing up for your shift twenty minutes late? Isn’t that against policy?” He mimics.
“I’m sorry. I overslept.” I grip the apron strings, clenching my fists so tightly that I almost puncture the skin of my palms. I want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Cocksucker.
“Don’t let it happen again. If it does, you’ll be looking for a new place to fuck up coffee drinks, got it?”
I grit my teeth, my tongue ready to spew expletives that’ll surely get my ass fired in a hot second. I press my lips together, swallowing the words that threaten to tumble out. This job, crappy as it is, provides me with freedom in the form of off-the-books cash. I need it, and Jasper has no idea how much. So I smile and push past him to cover the counter.
Regulars fill into the coffee house, barking their orders for one of about a million types of coffees, scones, cookies, muffins, and the like. It is a welcome distraction, keeping my toxic thoughts at bay. When I look at my watch again, I’m shocked to see almost two hours have passed. I lean against the counter and let out a relieved sigh, taking stock of the empty shelves.
I sink to the floor to check out which bins of coffee beans need refilling. The little bell hanging over the entrance chimes. Great, yet another pain in the ass customer. Jasper shuffles over to the counter with an exaggerated eye roll.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
“I’m looking for a woman. Her name is Callie Young. Is she working today?” The gruff voice sends uncontrollable tremors through my body.
Jasper’s curious eyes fall to mine. I grip one of the near-empty bins so tight, my fingertips turn white. I shake my head wildly. “No, no, no!” I mouth. Please Jasper. You’re a prick, but please don’t give me up. Oh, God, please no!
He flashes a toothy grin at the man. “Sorry, Callie’s not working here anymore. Haven’t seen her since she resigned a few days ago.”
“Resigned. Really.” The voice sounds unconvinced. Fuck! I hear a hand slap the counter. “Any idea where I might find her?”
“Sorry. We didn’t have the best working relationship. She was a pretty crappy barista. I might have been the reason she took off.”
“That’s too bad. I had some information I think she’d be interested in hearing.”
“If I see her again, I’ll let her know.” Jasper flashes a tight smile. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
Little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Sheer terror clutches my gut, and I can feel the bile rise in my throat. All he has to do is pop his head over the counter, and I’m completely fucked.
“No, thanks.” Retreating footsteps. Thank God. The jingling sound makes my heart leap and then sink almost immediately. They’ve found me.
The sharp intake of shallow breaths feel like tiny shards of glass slicing away at my throat and lungs. I collapse against the wooden coffee bar and cover my face with my hands. Callie…they even know my alias.
Jasper’s irritating voice jolts me, forcing me to face the reality that the hunted is damned close to being caught. “So, what’s the deal with the dude who’s looking for you? Scorned lover?”
“Not even close.”
“Stalker?”
“You might say that.”
“You should go to the cops.”
“Why do you even care?” My head pops up and all the emotion coursing through me morphs into rage directed at the asshole who enjoys nothing more than to make my life a living hell on a daily basis. My eyes sting from tears I refuse to shed.
“I’m not a complete heartless dickhead.” The corners of Jasper’s lips curl upward. “I mean, let’s face it. You suck at making coffee, but I’m sure you have other redeeming qualities.”
My jaw drops, almost hitting the sticky floor beneath my ass. Is this conversation really happening?
Jasper sinks to his knees. “And I’m sure you have some cash stashed away, too. Chicks on the run always do.” He flashes a tiny white card with nothing more than a large “V” and a phone number. “If you want to keep your job and your cover, it’ll cost you. Otherwise, your friend with the pinky rings will get a phone call. You get where I’m coming from, Callie?”
My skin prickles, goose bumps popping up all over my body. Murder, blackmail…what the hell is next? And will I even have a chance to find out?