Chapter Thirteen
Tuesday morning felt like a miracle. I had not only survived the weekend, but I’d survived a hell of a Monday. And not just because my past had come back to haunt me.
No, Monday had been bad because Mondays were usually bad. And because the occupants of cabin four had clogged the toilet, not bothered to call us or fix the issue, and then flooded the master bedroom. Then cabin seven had broken the picture window in their living room—shattered it. Let this be a lesson about teenage boys and canoe paddles indoors. And cabin eleven had jacked up their hot tub with wild, drunk sex.
Ah, the glamorous life of a resort manager. I couldn’t even remember what wild, drunk sex was like. But I did clean up after those participating in it quite often.
As the manager, weekends were beyond obnoxious to work, but nothing was ever as bad as a Monday morning because nobody fessed up to their mayhem until checkout.
It was the reason Mags didn’t mind me taking weekends off. She figured I would have to deal with all the crap come Monday morning anyway—literally.
She was so lucky she had me.
But did she really?
What would happen to Maggie’s on the Mountain if I just suddenly disappeared?
I stared down at my little black book of local handymen. She would find someone else. Probably the very day I didn’t show up.
That was how Summit County worked. Everybody wanted to live in ski country. It was a twenty-something’s dream come true. I would leave and then a gorgeous blonde from like Switzerland or Norway or something would roll into town and just walk into the office and stand behind the desk like she always belonged there. Maggie’s reaction would be a shoulder shrug and a muttered, “That seems about right.” And all of Frisco would move on in happy merriment.
“Plumber,” I said out loud. “I need to find a plumber.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out immediately, stabbing at the number code so I could read the text. It read, Still alive. Still in town. Still think this is a stupid idea.
Francesca’s text made me smile. The text also made me breathe a sigh of relief. Frankie had Juliet today since her job at the swanky Lodge at Blackburn didn’t have a regular schedule like mine. She also didn’t have a boss that checked out cowboys with her or gave her the weekends off. But she did get corporate benefits and better health insurance and free rooms at any of the sister resorts around the world.
She also made almost twice as much as me. And she didn’t have to work until Thursday this week, so I was taking full advantage of her time off.
I tapped a quick reply into my phone, you’re the best!
To which she replied, any sign?
Frankie and I had done our own covert ops over the weekend. Taking turns, we both scouted out The DC Initiative. From a distance, of course. Sayer and Gus spent the remainder of their weekend at their gallery and restaurant. We both witnessed them making nice with the locals and schmoozing the out of town guests. They seemed friendly and open and kind to their mostly female employees.
That said, we couldn’t see a ton of what they were doing sitting in our dark cars on side streets, peering through binoculars at night time. But nothing we saw screamed of shady behavior.
Which was exactly how we knew something crazy was going on.
First things first, Sayer and Gus had been breaking rules and the law for as long as we’d known them. I had known Sayer for fifteen years, and Gus longer than that and there was not a time in either of their lives they weren’t working on a scam, coming up with the next scam or reaping the rewards of a scam. They were thieves. Criminals. Con-artists. Bratva.
It was in their blood.
Secondly, Sayer had only been released from prison recently. I didn’t make it a habit to search for him on the internet. I didn’t want to ping the wrong watchdog and get someone on my trail. But I had my ear to the ground enough that only a few short months ago, I knew for a fact, he still hadn’t been able to win parole.
Third. And this was probably the most important point. Frankie and I had abandoned them. We’d straight up run away. I had my reasons with Sayer, but leaving Gus behind had been an asshole move on our part. We had always planned to escape, the three of us, together, united.
But when it came time to go… Gus was on Sayer’s side. Gus was moving his way up the ranks, set to take over his dad’s job as bookkeeper. He was learning the ropes and the ins and outs of the business. He was gaining notoriety and respect, along with stacks and stacks of cash.
We had to ask ourselves if we knew for sure that Gus would come with us. We couldn’t take the chance that he would even waffle for one second. When it came down to it, we felt as though he would rather stay with the brotherhood, and his biological brother and Sayer.
As for Sayer?
Nothing, Six. Do you understand that? Nothing could make me leave them. They’re the only family I’ve ever known.
What about me? What about the family you’re going to start with me?
They’re my brothers, Caro. I won’t. He’d sucked in a deep, final breath. I can’t.
I had Sayer’s answer. I didn’t need to ask him my question. He’d been super clear on what to expect.
Maggie walked out of her office, ready to spit nails and breathe fire. “Move that family coming in today to the king suite. Tell them it’s a complimentary upgrade. And then let’s just freaking hope and pray that they don’t want to extend their stay. With three rooms in the shitter, it’s going to be a miracle if we can get through this week.” She put her hand on her forehead and spun toward the wall with a pinned map of the cabin layout on it. “I have no idea how hard it is to pull a sex toy out of a hot tub jet, but I’m hoping the repair is simple and straightforward.”
“And cheap,” I added. “We also need it to be cheap.”
“Son of a bitch,” she growled.
At Maggie’s look of frustrated helplessness, I rushed to assure her. “We’re just close to the end of our repair budget for the month. We have some saved for a rainy day though. If we go over this month, we’ll be okay.”
She cocked her head and breathed out slowly. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve been running the numbers with the estimates I’ve received so far. Barring no hidden problems, like black mold in all the bathrooms, we should be okay. More than okay.”
Her lips tugged up into a reluctant smile. “Is that your subtle way of telling me ‘I told you so?’ I can admit it, the emergency fund was a good idea. I don’t really need a new car anyway. Or new clothes. Or hell, that vacation to Cancun I promised myself I’d take before I turned sixty.”
I did not smile back. “You should always have a backup plan. Sometimes it pays to have three or four.”
“Careful Caroline. What would I do without you?”
Her question was said jokingly, meant to bring me out of my depressed funk. But her words twisted the blade in an already open wound. What would she do without me? She couldn’t run this place by herself anymore. She’d only just started to relax. “Go bankrupt?” I suggested, only half-kidding.
She bobbled her head back and forth, considering the answer. “Yeah, well good thing you’re not going anywhere.”
The door to the office jingled, throwing Maggie’s words right back in her face. Sayer stood in the doorway, bringing the chilly October afternoon with him. Thunderclouds rolled overhead and lightning streaked across the sky. Unlike Jesse that walked into this office framed in golden light like an angelic halo, Sayer walked into this place with fire and brimstone on his heels.
For a heavy, pressurized minute, all I could do was stare at this man that used to be my entire world. He was even more shocking to behold today. Friday night he had been all crisp lines and glossy revenge. Today he was casual in a long-sleeved Henley and low-slung jeans. His bigger, better, prison-bulked arms were huge compared to the gangly things I remembered from our youth. His shoulders were broader. His jaw somehow more defined, more unforgiving. And of all things… he was wearing glasses.
They should have been out of place on his face. He was the quintessential tough guy. He used to beat people up on a regular basis. He’d just gotten out of prison. The black-framed hipster glasses should have been one hundred percent ridiculous on that face. Yet… somehow, they only added to his allure. They made him more mysterious. Even more different than the boy I ran away from five years ago. He was so terrifying my stomach flipped with nerves. And lust. Mostly nerves. “What do you want?” The words were out of my mouth before I could temper them.
Maggie cut a glare in my direction. “W-welcome to Maggie’s on the Mountain,” she stuttered. See? Even Maggie of the Mountain was scared of this man. And she was the toughest broad I knew.
Sayer ignored her. “A room,” he told me, answering my question. His crystal clear blue gaze, only magnified behind those lenses, tore from mine to inspect the dated office. “Or a cabin, I guess. Whatever it is you rent out here.”
“We’re booked,” I answered quickly, lest Maggie get any ideas.
His eyebrows rose skeptically. “You’re booked?”
I couldn’t answer immediately. I was having trouble catching my breath. Why was he here? How had he found out where I worked? Had he decided today was the day I died? Had he finally got the kill order from the pakhan?
Maggie let out a groan of a sigh, not worried about the terrifying man on the other side of the counter at all. “We are unfortunately. Three of our cabins are out of commission after the weekend. The situation has left us in somewhat of a bind. We’re scrambling to find cabins for everyone through the week.”
Sayer seemed undeterred by our answer. “What’s wrong with them?”
Maggie looked back and forth between us. “Do you two know each other?”
I said, “No,” at the same time Sayer said, “Yes.” Which blew my cover.
It was hard to admit, but I had managed to play it smoother at the gallery. Tucking my hands into my pockets, lest I truly give myself away by smacking my palm to my forehead, I tried to recover while Sayer stood smugly across the desk, waiting for me to dig my own grave. “We used to,” I said. “It’s been… a long time.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other?” Maggie filled in. I nodded. “But now you, Mr. …”
“Smith,” Sayer supplied.
“Mr. Smith, would like to rent a cabin from Caroline—the friend you haven’t seen in awhile?”
One side of Sayer’s mouth kicked up into a smile, and my heart squeezed as if two invisible fists were around it. Why was looking at him so difficult? Why did this hurt so much? Why wasn’t I more afraid?
I should be more afraid.
I should probably be begging for my life or something.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Sayer wasn’t a killer, at least not the Sayer I knew. And if he was going to book a room, that meant he probably wasn’t going to throw a black hood over my head, toss me in the trunk of a car and drive me back to DC.
At least not yet.
My fear temporarily receded, making plenty of room for my raw frustration. “Mr. Smith showed up to be a pain in the ass, Maggie. He doesn’t really want a room.”
Sayer stepped up to the counter, pulling out his wallet. “Mr. Smith would like a room. Mr. Smith even needs a room.” His gaze found mine again, all sincerity and openness. All lies. “Gus and I will kill each other if we go one more day in the same hotel room. As fun as it’s been living out of a suitcase, I need my space until I can find something permanent.”
Permanent.
The word was a gut punch.
I sucked in a sharp, silent breath and reinforced my nerves with steel. If it was a game of wills he wanted, well, I didn’t need five years in federal prison to build the muscles to play. I was born with them. “It’s like Maggie said, Mr. Smith, we don’t have anything available for you. But there are other resorts elsewhere on the mountain that would be happy to take your money.” I leaned forward on my elbows, flashing Sayer a confident smile. A smile that said, you can’t rattle me, hotshot. You can’t show up after five years, looking like this, sounding like sin, and wearing glasses for God’s sake and get into my head.
I’m tougher than that.
Stronger.
Meaner.
Fucking determined.
His gaze dropped to my smile, the way it used to. With my new resolve bouncing around my head, I forced my face to keep it in place. “I don’t want to go elsewhere on the mountain, Six. I want to stay here.”
“Well, we don’t have a cabin available.”
“Well, maybe you should one.” Then he looked over at Maggie and added, “Please.”
“Maggie—”
She ignored me. The traitor. “Here’s the situation, Mr. Smith—”
“Sayer.” He smiled gently at her again, completely freaking wooing her. “Please call me Sayer.”
Maggie’s smile was uncertain, like she hadn’t been expecting a first name.
No, it was more than that. She hadn’t been expecting a first name like that.
Nobody was, I wanted to tell her.
We were all caught off guard.
It was Sayer’s first breach of your defenses.
Damn him. What was that saying about old dogs and new tricks? Well, maybe the old dogs didn’t need to learn new tricks. Maybe their old tricks worked just fine.
Maggie quickly recovered, “Here’s the situation, Sayer. I have three cabins out of commission. The first is flooded from a backed-up toilet. The second is littered with broken glass and freezing from a shattered picture window. The third is in working order, save for the hot tub, which has a rubber dildo shoved into one of the jets. The cabin itself is fine, but we’re hesitant to rent it out to paying guests. We don’t want them to feel awkward when they find out the reason the handyman has to have access to their deck.” Sayer’s lips twitched with the effort not to smile. “If any of those accommodations seem habitable to you, you’re welcome to them. I’ll even throw in a twenty percent discount until whichever of the problem rooms you rent is repaired. How does that sound?”
A respectful smile stretched across Sayer’s face, reminding me so fiercely of our daughter that my knees nearly buckled. “I’ll take the cabin with hot tub issues.”
“You won’t be able to use it,” I quickly reminded him. “Until we can get it fixed and that could be… months.”
Maggie slipped in a quick, “Days. It will only be a few days.”
He addressed Maggie, “I’ll survive.”
I gave it another shot. “Most of our guests demand a working hot tub. That’s one of their favorite features.”
He tilted his head and glared at me. “Caroline, I haven’t been in a hot tub since we snuck into that Italian party six years ago and locked ourselves in the Don’s room. I think I’ll manage a few more days.”
Throwing caution to the wind and one last ditch Hail Mary, I turned to Maggie. “He’s been in prison for the past five years. That’s why he hasn’t had access to any hot tubs.”
Her jaw hardened and she fully fixed her attention on me. It was like a wall went up between her and Sayer. Whatever charm he’d laid on her fizzled away, and she was herself again. “Did he go to prison for hurting you, Caroline?”
I could have said yes. I could have lied. She wouldn’t have let him stay then. She would have made him leave. And not just her resort, but the whole freaking mountain. She probably would have escorted him to the border of Colorado and kicked his ass to the other side.
But that particular lie tasted like ash and died on my tongue. I couldn’t make myself say it. I couldn’t make myself stoop to that level.
He had never put his hands on me without my consent or mutual desire. He had never done anything to my body that I didn’t absolutely want him to do.
Fine, he’d broken my heart into a million little jagged pieces. But that wasn’t exactly punishable by a court of law.
“No,” I confessed quietly, reluctantly. “He’s never put his hands on me.”
She immediately relaxed, the invisible barrier of her desire to kill him disappeared and a patronizing smile replaced her granite expression. “Well, then we all have our pasts. Don’t we, Caroline? Judgmental isn’t a good color on you.”
Sufficiently chastised, I turned away so I could roll my eyes at the window and pull out a map and a keycard and all the other things I needed to exchange with Sayer.
“Why don’t I handle this,” I told Maggie, “and you call the repairman so Mr. Smith can have a working hot tub in no time.” She narrowed her eyes at me, not liking that I was trying to get rid of her. She wanted to eavesdrop, the nosey Nelly. “I mean, it’s been six years. Don’t make the man wait longer than he has to.”
Maggie shook her head but grabbed the little black book of business contacts I’d left on the counter anyway. To Sayer she said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sayer Smith. I truly hope you enjoy your time here. Please let my manager, Caroline, know if you need anything. She can be very helpful when she remembers to take the stick out of her ass.”
Sayer coughed in surprise at the same time I hissed, “Oh my God, Maggie!”
“See you in a bit, darlin’.” She was absolutely unapologetic. “Make sure you walk Sayer to his accommodations. We wouldn’t want him to get lost on the way.”
“Oh, I’ll walk Sayer to his accommodations,” I mumbled to the reservation page on my computer. And then I’ll push him off the side of the mountain.
“I’m sure I can find my way,” Sayer offered after Maggie disappeared into her office. “I know how to read a map.”
“I’ll need some information before we get to that part,” I clipped out instead. “And a credit card.”
He blinked at me. “I’ll transfer money in the morning.”
“You know how this works, Sayer. I need a card for the file.” Meeting his gaze again, I searched for truth or obvious lies so I would know which truths he was trying to hide. “Unless you don’t have a card? Maybe you don’t have one that matches your driver’s license?”
He pulled out his wallet and thumbed a card from the slot. “Is there room service?”
I took the credit card from him, careful not to touch any part of him. My eyes quickly scanned the raised font reading Sayer Smith in plain letters.
So what? He had managed to get a new identity, and it came with good credit. If anything, it just proved my original theory—Sayer knew how to survive.
“No room service. But there are delivery apps that will pick up anything in town and deliver it to your cottage. We’re a ways from town though. It doesn’t always arrive hot.” Switching gears, I got back to work mode. “How long will you be staying?” I asked, for the sake of the computer screen. I couldn’t go to the check-in page until he answered. I wasn’t being nosey. Okay, I was being a little nosey. “I need to know for the computer.”
He leaned forward, resting on his forearms. “For the computer.”
“I’m trying to check you in, dummy.”
“I forgot how ballsy you are,” he said to his hands, head bowed. “How reckless.”
I pushed the rolling chair back. “Okay, I’m over the mystery man bullshit, Sayer. Either threaten me or kill me or do whatever it is you’re going to do to me. But let’s stop whatever game this is because I’m over it.”
His half-smile was cruel, vindictive. His gaze never left mine, daring me to look away. “You think this is a game? That after five years, I show up here to… tease you?”
His words were so hollow, spoken with no emotion. It was the hardness that stabbed at my heart, the wall between us so wide and tall and unbreakable that hot tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. I hadn’t thought that. After what I did to him, I would never think that. But the way he said it… like I was my fifteen-year-old self, dropping hints and flirting with him. Like he was eighteen again, chasing me around the back alleys of DC and beating up all the other boys that tried to talk to me.
Infusing my voice with mettle and moxie and ice, I told him honestly, “No. No, I don’t think this is a game. But you’re here for a reason, Sayer. And since I can’t possibly guess what it is, you need to just tell me.”
He made an amused sound in the back of his throat. “You left me, Six. Vanished. Disappeared. There was no note or phone call. Gus didn’t even know what the hell happened. One day you visited me and you’re all, ‘I love you, Sayer. I would do anything for you, Sayer. I’ll wait for you forever, Sayer.’ And then poof.” He smacked the counter, making me jump at the sudden sound. “Nobody can find precious Caroline fucking Valera. Not even her old man. And what can I do about it? My girl is gone. Fucking gone. And I can’t do a goddamn thing about it.”
“You—”
He had no time for my excuses. “Do you know how frustrating that is, Six? How infuriating? The only person you’ve ever loved disappears out of the fucking blue, and you’re stuck in prison like an asshole, helpless. Totally helpless. I lost my fucking mind thinking the worst had happened to you. I went insane. That darkness…” He ducked his head again, hiding whatever memories reflected in his eyes. “You can’t understand the depth of that darkness, Caroline. Won’t ever understand it.”
I was nothing but a slow-beating heart, struggling desperately not to make any noise, or movement or be anything but invisible. “Sayer,” the word was a whispered apology that he deserved.
His head snapped up, almost as if he just remembered that I was here. “Then I show up in this hole of a town and here you are. Not dead. Not kidnapped by Italians or Irish or a crazy fucking serial killer trying to get to me. You’re just here. Working and living and dating. And normal. Happy. Fucking adjusted. I’m not here to play games with you, Caro. I’m here to live out a dream I once I had with a girl I once loved.” He leaned forward, holding my gaze, twisting it, squeezing it, crushing it. “Me being here has nothing to do with you because not everything is about you, Caroline. And after all this time, I am not about you at all.”
I wanted to say something smart in reply; cutting, soul-ripping. But nothing came out of my mouth. Not one cruel response wandered into my head. I could do nothing but gape at him like a fish out of water, gasping for breath. I tried to console myself by believing I deserved that. I did. He was right. I had left him without a single word of where I was going or that I was going to be all right.
He had no idea that anything was wrong. That I needed to leave. That I had to.
And despite what he believed of me now, I had done the right thing.
But I could never tell him that.
“Six weeks,” he said.
I just kept staring at him, only barely getting the feeling back in my appendages. “W-what?”
“Put me down for six weeks. To start.”
Remembering what I was doing and why he was here and that I had a job to do, I entered that into the computer. “The cabin isn’t available for six weeks. I can give it to you until… Next Thursday.”
He rapped the counter with his knuckles. “Make this easy on yourself, Six, and figure it out.”
Glaring at the computer and biting my bottom lip until I tasted blood, I fiddled around with the computer. “Six weeks? All right, that will be twenty thousand, three hundred and eighty dollars.”
He didn’t flinch. “Don’t forget the dildo discount.”
It was all I could do to keep from screaming. “I’ll refund you the difference after the repairman comes.”
He leaned back, standing up straight. His shoulders relaxed and his face did something too—but it wasn’t relaxed. It was… I didn’t know what it was. “Make sure you include an itemized receipt when you do.”
Since Sayer showed back up in my life, I had been afraid that he was going to murder me. What I hadn’t considered was me murdering him. That should be a concern for everybody. “For tax purposes?” I taunted him.
“Obviously.”
And kudos to him because he sounded serious.
I finished entering his information and locking down his rental for the next six freaking weeks. I would have to do some rearranging later to figure out the rest of our calendar and upcoming reservations. It was going to be a giant pain in the ass. But I already had a feeling that Maggie was going to side with Sayer anyway.
It had nothing to do with guilt over the way I left things with him five years ago.
Nothing at all.
Because that would be really stupid of me. And dangerous. And basically, shooting myself in the foot.
I didn’t have a choice with this one. If Sayer wanted to stay here for six weeks, fine. At least then I could control what he saw of me. Juliet never came to work with me anyway. Problem solved.
Besides, Sayer could hang out for six weeks if that’s what he wanted or for the rest of his life or whatever. It wasn’t like I was going to stick around.
I ran his card for half the amount of his total stay, for the deposit and made two room keys for him. Pulling out a resort map, I highlighted his path from the main office to where his cabin was located. He’d gotten my favorite cabin. It was isolated from the other cabins, up the mountain a bit. He’d have privacy and quiet—which was something I knew he would appreciate.
“You can call the office if you need anything,” I told him the same way I would tell any guest that same information. Granted I was as pleasant as a rock, but still, he couldn’t turn me in for not doing my job. “If you need more towels, or a wake-up call, or directions around town, just let us know. We’re happy to help.” I highlighted the number to the main office on the side of the map.
He leaned forward again, bringing us close very suddenly. We still had the counter between us, but I had been leaned over with the highlighter. Now he was all in my space, his head barely brushing mine, his hands stretched out beside mine. “A wake-up call,” he murmured in that low, sandpapery voice of his. “I’m going to need a wake-up call every morning.”
I struggled to swallow the boiling anger. “You don’t really want that.”
“You offered,” he pointed out. “Every morning.”
“I’ll make sure Maggie knows.”
“From you, Six. Seven o’clock. Every morning.”
I pushed up on my hands, desperately putting space between us. He smelled like… He smelled differently than he used to. It was distracting. “Sorry, I don’t get in until eight.”
Plucking the map from the counter, he took a step back. “Not my problem.”
This time I let him see my eye roll. “You’re going to have to get it from someone else, Sayer. I can’t help you.”
“Ballsy. So fucking ballsy when I know so very much about you.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. Another thinly veiled threat. How long was I going to have to put up with this? “I thought you weren’t here to play games. I thought this was just some kind of catastrophic coincidence.”
He shrugged. “This isn’t a game, Six. This is your fucking life. Don’t be stupid with it. Wake-up call at seven. Every morning.”
Remembering his note from the other night, I held his glare. “And if I run?”
“Well, that would be pretty goddamn stupid, yeah?” His hand landed on the door to outside. “But, I don’t know, I guess try it if you want. I’m up for seeing what happens if you are.”
His casual attitude and ambiguous threat sent a chill skittering over me. I felt turned inside out by this man. He wasn’t supposed to have found me, by coincidence or not. In one breath, he gutted me with memories of my past and the way I used to feel for him and how badly I’d hurt him. And in another I was terrified for my life, my daughter’s life, for this life we’d carved out of nothing and made into something worth protecting. Instead of giving into the fear that curled around me like a slowly tightening snake, I defaulted to the professional in me. “We’ll let you know when the repairman will be out to look at your hot tub.”
Sayer’s expression finally broke, his lips lifting in a barely amused smile. “You do that, Six.” He pushed the door open. “Guess I’ll see you around then.”
I nodded. I guess he would see me around.
And I would see him.
And call him every morning at seven.
I waited until he’d pulled out of the parking lot in a brand-new Jeep Wrangler—apparently he was going all in with this whole Colorado life—before thumping my forehead on the counter and closing my eyes against the press of hot tears.
What had I gotten myself into now?
And how was I going to get out of it?