Katie
The trouble with making bold statements about handling things, is that eventually, the time comes when you have to, you know, handle things. I know Aidan means well and wants to protect me, but I really don't want him mixed up in my bullshit. Especially, because I don't know what Victor would do if Aidan inserted himself into the mix.
Victor is volatile and dangerous at best. When he’s in a rage, he's even more unstable and unpredictable. And I'd never be able to forgive myself if something happened to Aidan because of him. Ultimately, because of me.
“You okay?”
I look up and see Jake staring back at me as he dries off a couple of glasses. The bar isn't super busy or packed tonight, but it's steady. And my head is not in the game. My mind is a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts about Aidan and Victor, and everything else going on. I’ve been distracted ever since we found out that Arnie wasn’t the clown-man at Hail Mary at the Spring festival.
“Yeah, sorry,” I say. “Just a bit out of it tonight.”
That’s one way to put it, I guess. I told Aidan I'd handle it. That I'd deal with Victor once and for all. The problem is, I have no idea how I'm going to get that asshole to leave me alone. As if being six months pregnant isn't stressful enough, I now have the ever-present worry that he's going to show up at my door.
I may have understated how concerned I actually am to Aidan. I knew though, if I told Aidan I was freaking out, he would have done something about it. And he wouldn't have taken no for an answer. I know that much about him – that Aidan is a take charge kind of guy. He isn't big on words and prefers to let his actions do the talking for him.
“Oh shit,” Jake mutters.
I follow his gaze to see Leon and Danny coming through the door. Leon is glaring hard at me – as if it's my fault he got humiliated in public all those months ago. If he remembers correctly, though, I was the only one actually trying to keep it from happening, and protect his stupid ass. They take a seat near the back corner of the bar, whispering to one another, both casting baleful looks at me.
“Great,” I say. “Let’s add one more log to this bonfire of shit.”
“Katie, there's something I need to tell you,” Jake says. “It's been killing me for a long time now, and I can't keep holding onto this secret.”
He looks absolutely miserable – which makes me curious. Jake isn't overly bright, but he's a decent enough guy. And unlike most of the men in this godforsaken town, he actually has some semblance of a conscience.
“What is it?” I ask.
“That guy – Aidan – the one who beat the shit out of Leon? Months back, he came in here looking for you,” he says. “Wanted me to give him your address.
“Okay...” I reply slowly.
“He – he paid me seven hundred dollars to tell him where you lived,” Jake finally blurts out.
I stare at him for a long moment and then burst into laughter. Honestly, I never gave a whole lot of thought to how Aidan found out where I lived. I just assumed it was the nature of living in a place like this. Ashton Mill is one of those places where everybody knows where everybody else lives. It's not that big of a town, so it’s kind of be a given. Not that I particularly like that aspect of this place – it's just how things are.
When I’d asked Aidan how he found my place, he said he was resourceful – I didn't know he was a sucker, too. There are literally dozens of people who would have told him for free. I always assumed he had asked one of them.
“I'm sorry, Katie,” he says. “It was just an awful lot of money and –”
I wave him off. “Don't worry about it, Jake,” I say. “It's fine.”
“Yeah?” he asks, a look of relief flooding his face.
“Yeah, it's fine,” I say. “It all worked out.”
He sets the glass he's drying down and looks at me, a mischievous little smirk on his face.
He gestures at my ever-growing belly. “So, are you two – y'know?”
I nod my head. “Honestly, things are complicated right now,” I say. “All I know is that I've got some things to deal with. I need to put some things to bed once and for all.”
“Hey, can we get some fuckin' service over here?” Leon bellows.
“Apparently, Leon is one of those things,” Jake says.
“Apparently.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I'm going to need it.”
Though still an obnoxious asshole, for the most part, Leon has left me alone since the incident. He orders his drinks but refuses to meet my eye or make eye contact. Which is fine. Better than fine, actually. The less I have to deal with Leon, the better.
The rest of the night goes smoothly enough, and the tips are a little better than I expected. Which is good, since some bills are coming due soon.
“Goodnight, Jake!” I shout and wave to him.
He waves back as I walk out the door and head for my car. Having spent most of my life in the city, I never really realized just how dark night can be. Out here in Ashton Mill, where there is almost zero light pollution, the nights are pitch black – which can be creepy as hell. Especially when you're already on edge.
On the plus side though, you can see more of the stars and constellations than in the city. On a clear night, the views in Ashton Mill are spectacular. And as I fight the waves of anxiety washing over me, that is the thought I try to hold on to. I scan the darkness, searching for any sign of movement in the shadows. Remembering the clown-man – either Victor or some teenage asshole – I have my pepper spray in hand, ready to rock.
I'm waddling quickly across the asphalt, trying to make it to my car – which, thankfully, I'd had the foresight to park under the only working light in the whole damn parking lot. I press the button on the remote to unlock it, and make it to my car, alive and in one piece. Jumping in, I slam the door behind me and lock it, letting out a sigh of relief that turns into a shriek of pure panic when my phone suddenly rings in my hand.
“Jesus, Katie,” I chastise myself. “Get it together.”
Shaking my head, slightly amused by my own skittishness, I answer the call without looking at the caller ID, expecting it to be Jessa calling to check on me.
“I'm on my way home now,” I say and laugh.
“That's good to hear, baby. I'm looking forward to you coming home.”
The sound of Victor's voice sends shards of ice shooting through my veins. I start to tremble so hard, I almost drop my phone, and my keys are jangling nervously in my other hand. My eyes wide, I look around the parking lot, searching the pools of darkness and shadow even harder.
It's like he's watching me from somewhere and knew exactly when to call to maximize my fear.
“I – I told you to lose my number, Victor,” I say, trying to portray an image of confidence and strength.
“You know I'm not going to do that.”
“Then I'll change it.”
“I'll just get it again,” he says, a slight chuckle in his voice. “You can't hide from me, Katie. You belong to me.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
“Temper, temper,” he says. “That's one of those things I've always hated about you – that temper. Don't worry though, when I get you back, I'll beat that temper out of you.”
“You come anywhere near me, and I'll kill you, Victor,” I say, cringing at the lack of conviction in my voice. “Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you.”
“No, you won't,” he says and chuckles. “We both know you can't hurt a goddamn fly, so save your breath.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control the fear pounding through my mind and body. This is all a head game. He's just screwing with me. He has nothing else going on in his life. He's a loser with nothing and nobody, trying to get his rocks off by tormenting me. I shouldn't be feeding into it by continuing to talk to him. It's only encouraging him.
“I'm hanging up now,” I say. “Goodbye, Victor.”
“You hang up on me, and I'll cut your throat, bitch,” he hisses. “I will fucking kill you, Katie. Do you understand me?”
The hatred in his voice freezes me cold, rooting me to my spot. I sit there, phone pressed to my ear, numb with shock and terror. He's threatened to beat me before. Threatened to hurt me. But, never kill me. That's a first, and it makes me sit up and take notice.
“You listening now?” he sneers.
I don't say anything. As I sit there, I feel a prickling on the back of my neck and have the sudden sensation of being observed. I turn in a circle, eyes wide, looking again at the inky pockets of shadows that hang everywhere, certain I'm going to see Victor's enraged face stepping out of one of them, his eyes locked onto mine.
“I'll assume that you are,” he says, his tone amused again. “Get yourself ready, Katie. I'm coming for you. And when I do, you are going to come with back to Atlanta without putting up a fight. And once we get home, I'm going to punish you for being such a bad girl. You've been very, very bad, Katie, and you have to pay for that. It’s time to learn some fucking respect, so you'd better start practicing now. Do you understand me, bitch?”
I open my mouth to say something but can't think of a snide comeback. I'm so rattled, I can't think of a damn thing. And even if I could, I don’t know if it would be smart to say anything. The feeling of being watched gets worse and sends goosebumps crawling all over my skin. I look around, straining my eyes to try and see into the shadows, but there doesn’t seem to be any movement out there. By all appearances, I'm alone.
I should go back into the bar, call Sheriff Keller, and wait for Aidan with Jake. If Victor's out there, though, I know Jake won’t be able to stop him. He’ll only get hurt in the process. Besides, if Victor is really out there, I may not even make it back to the doors of the bar before he grabs me.
I mentally kick myself. Get it together. Snap the fuck out of it and get your head on straight.
“I said, do you fucking understand me?”
Victor's voice cuts into my thoughts and pulls me back to the here and now. I feel anger rising up inside of me like a dark tide. The fear coursing through my body, makes the anger that much sharper. That much more vibrant.
And that much more intemperate.
“Go fuck yourself, Victor,” I say. “You're full of shit. Always have been.”
“Trust me, babe,” he says, “you don't want to play it this way.”
“Fuck you.”
He sighs, long and loud. “Don't say I didn't give you a chance,” he says. “Because I still love you, I tried to be reasonable, but you're making it pretty goddamn hard. Let me tell you –”
I disconnect the call and feel tears of rage and fear roll down my cheeks. I hate that fucker. More than that, though, I hate myself for being so afraid of him. The phone rings in my hand again. A blocked number. Victor again. Obviously, he hasn't quite gotten off yet and wants to keep tormenting me.
Well, screw that. I'm done playing his game.
I terminate the call and drop my phone in my bag – and make a mental note to always check the caller ID before picking up. You'd think I would have learned that by now. I take a deep, shuddering breath and replay the conversation in my head, parsing every word, doing my best to avoid freaking out. I try to think about what happened rationally and determine if I'm actually in danger or not.
He said he's “going” to come for me. Meaning, he's not here. Victor isn’t in Ashton Mill. Yet. Assuming he actually knows where I am and that he's not just full of shit – which is a distinct possibility.
But, I can't afford to take chances. Not when lives are on the line.
I think it might be time to disappear for a while. I fear that I'm putting Jessa – and now, Aidan – in danger by staying in Ashton Mill. I really fear for anyone who stands between him and me. If Victor rolls into town, and I'm not here, he'll have no choice but to move on.
I start my car, questions and worries flowing through my head like a raging river. I put it in gear and drive home, continually checking my rearview mirror, my heart racing every time I see a pair of headlights behind me.
Thankfully though, I make it home without incident – with nothing but a mountain of worry.
* * *
“You're kidding me,” I say, a huge grin on my face.
“Does it look like I'm kidding?”
Aidan had picked me up from home after calling and telling me he was taking me away for the weekend. At first, I was a little taken aback by the boldness and audacity of it. It wasn't a question – not, “hey, how would you feel about...” – it was literally, Aidan calling me, telling me to pack a bag, and be ready when he got there.
Lucky for him, I actually have a couple days off from the bar. Though, I tend to think he somehow already knew that. Then again, now that he's taken the blindfold off me, as I look at the sleek corporate jet sitting in front of me, I think that maybe I'm the lucky one.
“Is this yours?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Partly,” he says. “It belongs to the company.”
“Your company.”
“My share of the company.”
“Semantics.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he says and flashes me that heart-melting smile of his.
We're standing just outside a private hangar at the airport in Greenville – which is only about half an hour away from Ashton Mill. Large commercial airliners streak skyward on the other side of the airport while we stand on the tarmac. A skycap unloads our luggage and is hauling it over to the plane for us as we wait for the okay from the captain to board.
“Where's Oliver?” I ask. “I thought he'd be coming with us.”
“I hired a babysitter to stay with him the next couple of days.”
I look over at him and smirk. “A babysitter?”
He nods. “Oliver's most comfortable at home, surrounded by his own things,” he says. “He doesn't like it when I leave as it is, so I didn't want to stress him out anymore than I have to.”
Our eyes meet, and I feel my heart fill with emotion. I can't believe he would bend over backwards like that to make his dog comfortable and happy. I can honestly say he's the only person I know who would do that for their dog. It's really sweet.
“So, this is how the other half lives,” I say dryly. “I've always wondered.”
“Hey, it beats flying coach.”
I nod. “I think I can get used to this.”
He gives me a long, lingering look. “Yeah, I think I can too.”
My heart turns a somersault in my chest, and I feel the heat flaring in my cheeks. It feels like there's more behind that comment than he's saying, and he seems to realize it after the fact, as he clears his throat and looks away. I want to ask him, but I don't want to push it. This is all so new, and I know we're both still sort of – fragile. Best if we proceed down this path carefully.
“Sorry for the lack of notice,” he says, seeming to make the wise choice and veer away from that topic altogether. “I wanted to surprise you. I thought you deserved a nice weekend away from all the shit. Some time to enjoy yourself and relax.”
“Well, I'm surprised, so mission accomplished,” I say. “But, pro tip, next time, you might want to check with me first. I mean, some of us work regular hours. I could have been scheduled down at the bar –”
“I checked with your boss, actually,” he says.
“You called Marv?” I ask, staring at him wide-eyed.
“Well, yeah,” he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. “Nice guy, actually.”
I laugh. “Marv is a lot of things, but nice is not one of them.”
He grins. “I think you misjudge the poor guy. He's really fond of you,” he says. “Told me you remind him of his youngest daughter.”
I roll my eyes. “If you knew his youngest daughter, you wouldn't see that as a good comparison.”
He chuckles. “The point is, he likes you a lot, Katie,” he says.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, shaking my head and laughing. “Whatever, Aidan.”
He shrugs and laughs before putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me toward the plane, as the captain waves us to the rolling stairs. It's almost time to go. We step aboard the plane and it's wall-to-wall luxury. The seats are wide and well padded. There is a big screen TV on the front wall, a bar on one side of the plane, and a galley in the rear. It's done in wood paneling and decorated in the red and black motif I assume are the colors of Aidan's company.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Anderson,” the pilot says and then turns to me. “I'm Captain John Perry. I'll be your pilot. You two need anything, you just let me or the crew know.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Aidan says. “Nice to see you again as well.”
The co-pilot is in the cockpit already, running the pre-flight checks, and there is one flight attendant – a tall, attractive dark-haired woman.
“Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable,” Captain says. “We'll be wheels up in ten minutes.”
Captain Perry turns and heads into the cockpit, taking his seat beside the co-pilot. The flight attendant guides us to our seats and gives us a warm, welcoming smile.
“Lovely to see you again, Mr. Anderson,” she says. “It's been a little while.”
“That it has,” he replies. “Nice to see you again too. Rowena, this is my – this is Katie Weathers. Rowena's been with our flight service for quite some time and is one of our very best.”
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson,” she says, smiling at his praise.
I can't help but notice his stumble during the introduction, but he moved on from it smoothly enough. Though, I can see his blunder bothered him – his face is taut with tension. He shouldn't be, though. I mean, we haven’t defined anything, and neither of us seems to be in any rush to do so. It would just add unwarranted pressure to the pregnancy that neither of us want or need.
“Very lovely to meet you, Ms. Weathers,” Rowena says.
“Thank you,” I say. “It's nice to meet you too.”
“Please, if you'll both have a seat?”
Aidan and I sit beside each other in big, comfortable leather chairs. I melt into it and smile, feeling like I'm floating on a cloud. A moment later, Rowena comes back with a tray, and hands Aidan a flute of champagne before sliding me a glass of ginger ale. She sets the tray bearing a massive shrimp cocktail, and a number of other appetizers down on a table in front of us. I stare at it with my eyes wide and mouth agape.
“I need to go take my seat now, but if you need anything else, I'll be happy to assist you after we gain cruising altitude,” Rowena says. “Just push the button for service.”
“Thank you, Rowena,” Aidan says. “Now, go put your feet up and relax. We'll be fine.”
She flashes him a smile. “I may do just that.”
Rowena heads into the cockpit and shuts the door, sealing herself in with the flight crew. I guess on corporate jets, the flight attendants keep out of sight until needed, giving the passengers – who I assume are usually discussing sensitive business matters – their privacy.
We buckle ourselves in, and Aidan looks over at me, raising his glass. I tap mine against his and feel a flutter in my belly as the plane starts to move – in addition to feeling all fancy and hoity-toity. I take a sip of my ginger ale and do my best to not focus on the fact that we're about to take off.
“You look nervous,” he says.
“I've never been a big fan of flying,” I reply.
He pops a shrimp into his mouth and chews as he looks at me, studying me like I'm an alien. Or maybe, some fascinating, unknown creature he's looking forward to dissecting. Or, maybe I'm just really freaked out about flying and am reading too much into his expression.
The plane lurches forward, and starts to pick up speed. A lot of speed. I turn to the window and see the world flying by – and feel like I might throw up. My stomach drops into my shoes when I feel the plane start to lift off. A moment later, there's a brief second of weightlessness as we become airborne and the world beyond the window grows smaller and smaller as we leave the ground behind. My breath catches in my throat, and my heart begins to race. I can't believe we're doing this.
“What don't you like about flying?” Aidan asks, drawing my attention away from the window.
“Oh, I don't know,” I say. “Call me crazy, but something about being strapped in a metal tube, going hundreds of miles an hour, combined with being a hundred thousand feet in the air doesn't appeal to me a whole lot. It’s not exactly my idea of a good time.”
He laughs. “It's not that bad,” he says. “And, if it makes you feel any better, I believe cruising altitude is only about thirty-five thousand feet.”
“It would probably feel the same as a hundred thousand if we fell out of the sky.”
He laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, and all I can do is sit there, drink my ginger ale, and pray to whoever might be listening, to not let us burst into a fiery ball or meet some other horrific end.
Aidan reaches over and takes my hand. He raises it to his lips and places a soft kiss on the back of my knuckles. He gives me a small smile and a look of compassion.
“The trick is to distract yourself,” he says. “Usually, I read or do some work. Something to keep me from looking out the windows.”
“You're afraid of flying too?” I ask, feeling suddenly heartened.
“Actually, no,” he says. “It's more that one episode of the Twilight Zone that freaks me out. I'm always afraid I'm going to look out there and see a man on the wing.”
He holds my gaze for a long second and then bursts into laughter. He's screwing with me. Again. And I'm so damn gullible, I fell for it. Again. I punch him in the shoulder and can't help but laugh along with him.
“You're such an ass,” I say.
“Yeah, sometimes,” he says.
Eventually, our laughter fades away and he looks at me again, his expression warm and earnest.
“Honestly, I used to be afraid of flying. Deathly afraid,” he says. “I've had to travel so much ever since taking over this slice of the company that I've just gotten used to it. Really though, it helps a lot if you find a way to distract yourself. I wasn't kidding about that.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” I say. “Maybe next time, you can give me a little warning, and I can pack a book.”
He smiles mischievously. “I think I might be able to find a way to distract you.”
“Down boy,” I say. “Being in a flying tube of death doesn't really get my libido racing.”
He laughs. “Give it time.”
I laugh. “So, where are we headed, anyway?”
“Well, we're headed for Atlanta,” he says.
My blood runs cold and I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. “Please tell me you're not serious.”
He shrugs. “I know, I know,” he says. “But, I wanted to take you out for something special this weekend. And I guarantee where we're going, he's not going to be.”
I eye him suspiciously, sensing there's something he's not telling me. “How can you possibly know that?”
He lets out a long breath and then takes a drink of his champagne. I can tell he doesn't want to answer the question, but there's no way in hell I'm letting him off the hook that easily.
“Aidan,” I press. “How can you possibly know?”
“I've taken some security precautions,” he says without looking at me.
“What kind of security precautions?”
He still won't meet my eyes, and I'm starting to get a little pissed.
“Aidan,” I say. “Answer me.”
He finally looks over at me, and I can see a stubborn set to his jaw and a flash of anger in his eyes. Not directed at me, but at Victor.
“I have a man keeping tabs on Victor,” he says. “Making sure I know where that motherfucker is at all times.”
I look at him, completely taken aback. I really don't know what to say to that. On the one hand, yeah, I'm pissed. I told him I'd handle it – although, I haven’t told him about Victor's last phone call that left me so rattled, I barely slept the other night.
On the other hand though, I'm – well – not pissed. That Aidan would go to those kinds of extremes, just to give the two of us a nice weekend away – no one has ever done that for me before. And, knowing that I'll be safe and be free to enjoy whatever it is he has planned makes me happy.
“Honestly, I'm kind of conflicted here, Aidan,” I say with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, I told you to leave Victor alone –”
“And I am leaving him alone,” he says. “You never said I couldn't keep tabs on him. I have a vested interest in knowing where he is. As long as I know he's in Atlanta, he's not in Ashton Mill, meaning you're safe. And as long as I know where he is in Atlanta when we're there, you're also safe. It's just observation. It's not like I sent a squad of assassins to take him out.”
“And what, you're just going to watch him – what – forever?”
He shrugs. “I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” he says firmly. “I'm sorry if that upsets you, but I'm not about to let anything happen to you or our baby, Katie.”
The way he looks at me when he says that stirs something inside of me. Not in a bad way. It's an interesting feeling, honestly. I'm so used to having men push me around, striking fear into me rather than loving me and bending over backwards to protect me, that I don't know what to do.
Aidan makes me feel safe and cared for. In the short time I've known him, he's made me feel more protected and loved than Victor ever did in the years we were together. That Aidan would go so far out of his way like this, to have someone watching Victor to make sure he stays away from us – is unbelievable to me. Like something out of a movie.
With everything he's doing – from protecting me from Victor to whisking me away on his private jet – it kind of feels like I'm starring in a fairy tale. Like I'm a modern Cinderella and Aidan is Prince Charming, and he's doing his damnedest to sweep me off my feet.
I look up at him and make sure to hold his gaze. “Thank you,” I reply softly.
“You don't need to thank me, Katie.”
“No one has ever done anything like this for me before,” I say. “It's – overwhelming. To say the least.”
He drains the last of his champagne and sets the glass down. “You shouldn't have to live in fear, Katie,” he says. “Or live your life looking over your shoulder. This, and I hesitate to use the word because it really doesn't apply to him – man – shouldn't be able to suck the joy and happiness out of your life. He shouldn't be able to control you. Not anymore. He doesn't own you.”
I can tell Aidan is restraining himself – probably for my sake. But, I can hear the heat in his words and see the steel in his eyes. He's never met Victor before, but I can tell he hates him with a burning passion. If they ever did meet, face to face, Aidan would want to beat him within an inch of his life.
I want to ask him why he's so invested in making sure nothing happens to me and keeping me safe, but I can tell it's a touchy subject with him. I know it has something to do with how his fiancée died, but I still don't know the circumstances surrounding that. Which, of course, only piques my curiosity even further.
Now is not the time to press him on it, though.
I clear my throat and take a sip of ginger ale.
“Hey,” he says.
He lifts my chin up and forces me to meet his gaze. His blue-gray eyes are bright and intense, but at the same time, so full of kindness and compassion. It suddenly strikes me just how handsome Aidan really is. Though the strong jawline, chiseled features, and beard make him look rugged, his face is actually soft. Boyish. Up close, his eyes sparkle like a child's, and his lips are soft and full. Just looking at him makes my heart flip-flop in my chest.
“Let's not think about anything but enjoying ourselves this weekend,” he continues. “Let's just put everything else out of our minds and just focus on having fun. I think we both deserve it.”
I feel a smile crossing my face and a lightness in my heart I haven't felt in – hell – longer than I can even remember. Maybe ever. Probably ever. Letting everything go and doing nothing but enjoying some time away with a beautiful, amazing, and generous man, sounds incredible.
I only hope I can hold up my end of the bargain.
“I think that sounds great,” I say.
“Good,” he replies and leans forward, planting a soft, chaste kiss on my lips.
“So, are you going to tell me what you have on the agenda?”
He gives me a roguish little smirk. “No.”
“No?” I ask and laugh.
He shakes his head. “That would ruin the surprise,” he says and chuckles, a deep, rumbling noise. “And I want you to be surprised. I have something fun planned. Isn't that what you threw at me the night of the Spring festival?”
“No fair throwing my words back in my face.”
“Get used to it,” he says. “I believe that's also something you said.”
I smile back at him, a wave of emotion washing over me. This is all so foreign to me, so completely different from anything and everything I'm used to that I still don't know what to make of it. I mean, Aidan is pulling out all the stops here, trying to give me a wonderful weekend. And he's doing it just because he wants to. Because he thinks I'm worth it and deserve it.
The least I can do is what he asked – just surrender to the moment and enjoy it.
I press my lips to his softly. “Well, I'm looking forward to it,” I say. “Whatever it may be.”