Burned Page 9

  She scooped the white paper sandwich wrapper toward her and crumpled it into a ball.

  “I hear that. Some days we don’t have time to breathe.” Lola lifted the ceramic mug to her lips and blew on it. “Me? I’ve only got the one client, then I can get back to relax land. I actually got some sunshine on my skin today.” She eyed her already caramel-colored arm, and then she took a tentative sip of her tea. “Mmm, perfect.”

  She removed the tea bag and threw it in the stainless-steel garbage can in the corner.

  Blaire stood, stepped across the room, and added her crumpled wad to the can. “Yes, it was gorgeous until right around three. Now it looks like change is in the wind.”

  She reached for a paper towel from the dispenser, held it under the faucet of the small sink, and wet it.

  “So, what are you afraid of if you tell him?” Lola said, eying her over the top of the mug.

  “Oh, you know…he won’t want to be with me.” Blaire wiped down the table, brushing crumbs into her open palm.

  “Haven’t you heard of commitment? It’s a step some couples are willing to make. You must have it to survive the ups and downs. From watching you, I’d have guessed you’d be married by now.” Lola sauntered to the break table and sat opposite Blaire.

  “We kind of danced around the topic. I don’t want to make a commitment until Jackson gets straight with his brother and he doesn’t want to make a commitment…well until he gets straight with his brother.” She scrunched up her face.

  Lola nodded. “Hence, your insecurity.”

  “Hence, my insecurity.”

  “You haven’t heard from that playboy, have you?”

  “Karlos?” The sound of his name cast a shiver through her system. “Thank God, no. I never left a forwarding address when I moved here. The only address he knows is the one where he sent tickets for glamorous trips and pricey gifts.” At least I think he doesn’t know where I live. “So, I’m probably paranoid. Maybe he’s just out scamming for a new mark.”

  “What kind of glamorous trips?” Lola said.

  “Oh, you know. I’d get a ticket to Paris at the drop of a hat. Monaco. The Turkish Riviera. It was all so breathtaking. My family thought I had scored bank for a boyfriend. I did, too.”

  Lola’s eyes grew wide. “Are you messing with me? This dude sent you tickets to travel across the world?”

  Blaire’s face flushed. “That’s right. Oddly, he never came to Seattle. He said he wanted to see me in his world—the world of the wealthy.” The heat in her face and neck increased. “He gave me the attention I craved, in spades. A credit card to buy whatever I wanted. He wanted me to show up looking like something I’m not. He’d meet me at the airport. We’d drive off in a different car in each new city. Sometimes it was a Maserati. Sometimes it was a Rolls. He liked to flaunt his wealth.”

  “Damn, girl. And how is it I’m giving you my leftover clothes? You must have a closet full of more expensive clothes than I can afford.” Lola’s eyebrow cocked.

  Sweat dampened Blaire’s brow. “I got rid of every single piece once I escaped. I wanted no reminders of the way I’d been duped. My family all thought…” Her gaze slid away. “They still think that I was with a playboy and he dumped me for someone else. They never knew about the crime or the part I played or how I got out within an inch of my life.”

  “Nuh-uh, stop right there,” Lola said, putting her palm out. “I don’t want to hear anything about this so-called life of crime. If I know you didn’t kill anyone, extort anyone, or harm anyone in any way, I’m good. You can tell that part to a priest or, better yet, your heroic boyfriend.”

  For a second, Blaire got lost in memories of Caracas: approaching the marks Karlos or others in his gang would point out, telling them in her faltering Spanish of some kind of trouble she was in, leading them around the corner to men with sharp knives and sinister faces who would cut off all their hair as they screamed, fought, and shot daggers at her with their eyes. She couldn’t imagine the helpless rage those women felt at being violated.

  Without thinking, she reached back and touched her long ponytail, the way she did every morning when she woke up by Karlos’ side, certain that her hair had been cut off in the night.

  And then there were the ones who died when they put up a fight.

  That had only happened a couple of times.

  The gang had boasted about it over shots.

  Karlos had been furious.

  “We’re not that kind of a gang. We’re for profit, not for murder,” he’d roared, pounding the table.

  But he’d fucked her with a vigor that night as if hearing of the experience brought him some sort of perverse thrill.

  She glanced out the window, searching for a way out of her mire of memories.

  Jackson’s truck pulled up in the parking lot of Purple Vines across the street.

  Relief and guilt flooded her. “Speaking of boyfriends…” She pointed out the window. “There he is. He told me him, and a couple of guys were going out for drinks tonight. While I slave away on women’s hair.”

  Jackson stepped from the truck, looked toward the salon, and brightened when he spied her. He lifted his arm and waved.

  She blew him kisses.

  He pretended to catch three kisses and pressed them to his chest.

  Her heart did all sorts of skips and twirls, while her lusty needs surfaced as damp heat in her panties. She grinned at him.

  He grinned back. Then, he looked away as Griffin’s black pickup truck turned into the parking lot.

  “Aw,” Lola said. “That exchange didn’t look like a lack of love to me. Maybe you two have made a commitment to commit when certain things have resolved. That seems fair. So many times, people commit before checking out the merchandise, if you catch my drift. Then, they need to back out of horrible mistakes. I say to share with him. He looks at you like you’re the answer to his prayers. I doubt if he’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

  Blaire dragged her gaze from his handsome physique. “Do you really think so?”

  Lola shook her head. “Girl, with you two, it’s so obvious. I’ll be crushed if you two break up. You’re like Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. Love-bunny mush cake.”

  Blaire blushed. She glanced back out the window.

  Jackson stood with Griffin and another guy she didn’t know. They all seemed in good spirits, laughing and talking.

  She kept her gaze on them until they disappeared into the bar. Rolling her lips between her teeth, she vowed to come clean to him. And, hopefully, soon. If Karlos was really stalking her, she needed to spill her secrets before it was too late.

  Chapter 11

  Blaire loved coming home to the place she now shared with Jackson. They were making a life together—a real-life—so why was she so scared of telling him the truth about Karlos?

  Because I’m so ashamed I got caught up in criminal life. Because it was awful. Because he’s already been through enough hell.

  Her gaze dropped to her phone. She needed strength—some sort of comforting support. On impulse, she tapped the number for Zayden, wondering if he’d even answer if he saw it was her.

  “Sis! Long-time no talk!”

  “Zayden? Is it really you?” Her tummy flipped and flopped with excitement. She hadn’t spoken to her brother in well over a year.

  “Hell, yes, it’s really me,” he said with a laugh. “Wait, wait, it’s Lord Zayden. That’s what she said last night.”

  He snorted.

  Blaire chuckled, delighted to hear his voice. “I’ll bet she said, lord, Zayden, get your sweaty body off of me.”

  Laughter bubbled up from her throat.

  “Hey, now,” Zayden said, with his usual cheer. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you, sis.”

  Her heart squeezed tight. She swung her legs out of the car but didn’t get out, preferring to savor this moment in the gorgeously fading sunset that spread across the sky.

  “I’ve missed you, to
o.” She squeezed the phone as her eyes stung with tears of joy.

  “Yeah, you kind of dropped off the planet there a couple of years…a year and a half…a while ago, I don’t know. And my career started taking off. I’m sorry I didn’t follow up better. When you stopped returning my calls, and fame, instead, called me back, I went with fame.”

  The pride in his voice made her smile. “I’m sorry I dropped off the planet. My breakup with that playboy was brutal.”

  “I figured you went off to lick your wounds. I should have come to console you. But…”

  “Fame called,” she said, quickly, not wanting to talk about Karlos.

  “I never liked that guy. Anyone who didn’t want to show up and meet your family was an asshat in my book. Why was that? We all wondered.” Zayden said.

  Her heart began to hammer. “You did? You talked about me?” she said, skirting his question.

  “What? You think we didn’t care? Get real, sis. I know after everyone moved out of the house, we scattered like baby spiders, but we all still cared. So, sure, we talked about you. I’d call Roman, and he’d tell me what him and Tessie had talked about. Tessie said you and this big hunk of a guy came over for a birthday party or something, but you know Tessie—she’s all distracted by her family, so she didn’t catch many details. But we all wondered what was going on with you. Wren, of course, she flew away to New York, so we haven’t kept in touch the best. But you, big sis, were missed when you disappeared. You’re like the glue that keeps our family together.”

  “I am?” she said, blinking rapidly.

  “Which one of us was the wise counsel for the rest of us? Not Roman. Not Tessie. It was you.”

  “It was?” she said, sounding idiotic to her own ears.

  Use longer sentences.

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I am surprised. I always felt ignored. The good kid who never got into trouble. The quiet one who never made a fuss. Meanwhile, you were always up to something, Tess and Wren were being dragged around to dance lessons, and Roman always had a posse of friends who loved to hear him talk.”

  “Blaire, come on. Is that what you think of yourself? The ignored? The forgotten?”

  A cacophony of loud voices blasted through the phone.

  “Get the fuck out of here. This room isn’t available. Go!” Zayden said, sounding muffled. “Sorry about that, sis. A couple of my bandmates are turnt.”

  “Turnt?”

  Zayden laughed. “Oh, my sheltered sister. You’ve never heard the term ‘turnt?’ We’re all a bit jacked from our gig tonight. It was epic. Celebratory substances are flowing, and it’s about to get down and dirty. You caught me before it got crazy over here. Every time I’m done with a great gig, I want to call you, but I get distracted. I’m glad you took the leap and called.”

  “I’m glad you answered.”

  “Me, too. You should hear Mom and Dad. Whenever I call, they ask me if I’ve heard from you. Now I can tell them you’re okay. But you might be the one to tell them. They think they did something wrong and you don’t like them anymore.”

  Gooseflesh sprang up on her legs from the chill in the air. Or, maybe it was his words. Stinging tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

  “Are you still there, sis?” Zayden’s voice sliced through her tears.

  “Still here,” she said in a weak-sounding voice. She cleared her throat. “Still here,” she said more forcefully.

  More noisy laughter and shrieks blasted through the phone. “Knock it off. Get in the other room. I’m trying to talk to my sister,” Zayden said, sounding like his hand was over the phone.

  “What’s going on? Where are you?” She hoped to distract him from the topic of shared insecurities between her and her parents.

  Midget and Maxine whined and barked from the kennel.

  Blaire pushed to her feet and made her way toward the back yard.

  “Oh, let’s see. We’re in Poughkeepsie, New York. Tomorrow night we’re in Boston. We got booked on a moderately sized tour. A lot of agents and producers have been sniffing around. I think we’re about to hit it big.”

  “That’s great,” Blaire said, unlatching the side gate. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Midget and Maxine’s whines and yips grew louder as she strolled over to their kennel.

  “Where are you? At the pound?” Zayden said.

  “At my own personal pound.” She lifted the latch to the kennel, and the dogs sprang out, jumping, barking, and twirling around her legs. “Whoa. I’m happy to see you, too, but don’t knock me over.”

  “You have dogs?”

  “Yep. Midget and Maxine. They’re two six-month-old Border collies. They’re a handful, that’s for sure.” She crouched to give them love.

  They each took turns licking her face.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” she said, pushing their muzzles away.

  “Stop,” Zayden said, through muffled laughter. “All right, all right, I’ll come out in a sec. Let me wind things up.”

  A loud whack rang through the phone.

  “Hey. What the fuck?” Zayden said, sounding far away.

  Blaire rose and, still pressing her mobile device to her ear, headed toward the house. She twisted the unlocked door handle to the kitchen and stepped inside. After putting the phone on speaker, she picked up the dog bowls and placed them on the counter. She retrieved a couple of meat patties from the fridge and placed them in the bowls. Then, she placed each bowl on a doggie placemat.

  The dogs charged inside and got busy with their late dinner.

  A few seconds later, Zayden returned. “I’m sorry, a couple of my bandmates are whacked. One of them pinned me to the bed. The other tossed my phone across the room. I’ve got to run. We’re about to party hard.”

  “Well, thanks so much for answering, Z,” she said. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

  “So, real quick, fill me in on what’s happening with you. Are you with a real man this time? I figure if he braved Tessie’s crazy life, he must be all right.”

  “He’s amazing,” Blaire said. “He’s a firefighter and paramedic. We’ve been together for almost eight months. We’ve got two dogs. I work at a hair salon here in Singer Springs, but honestly, I’m questing for something more. It’s a good profession, but it just doesn’t fit, you know?”

  “I hear you. So, you’re with a hero now. Cool. Good for you. Well…” His words were cut off by shouts and some sort of shrieking scuffle. “I’m sorry, I gotta go. These dudes are relentless. And now they’re bringing in the big guns—hot women. Tell you what? We’re playing in Seattle in a few months. I’d like to come out to see you, or you could come to Seattle. Maybe we could all meet your hero.”

  A sudden clench of awkward insecurity tightened around her belly. She felt bad for disappearing from her family’s lives. It might be uncomfortable to see them. Then, again, it might be relieving to be part of her crazy family once more.

  “Okay, Zayden,” she said. “Sounds good. We’ll think of something.”

  “Good. I’ll look forward to it. One last thing. Please let us back in. I might be all jokey about it, but it’s been hard for all of us to not hear from you. We all tried to contact you. You just cut us off. If we don’t know what’s going on, we can’t help you or be there for you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry. I was really hurting after Karlos, the playboy. I’m better now, though. Much better.”

  The dogs licked their lips and wandered toward their water bowl. Noisy slurps followed.

  Blaire said her good-byes to Zayden and sauntered into the front room. Jackson would be home soon. He’d said he would try to get back around eight or so. Currently, it was seven-thirty. At the thought of seeing him—of sharing her secret with him—her heart took up a steady gallop in her chest. Zayden’s parting words batted at her reluctance to tell Jackson about her past. If we don’t know what’s going on, we can’t help you or be there for you.

  She p
ressed her palms to her temples. God knows I need help. I’ve kept everything to myself for far too long.

  It was time to let Jackson in—before it was too late.

  Chapter 12

  Blaire sat curled on the couch, reading the same paragraph of her pulpy romance over and over for the last fifteen minutes. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and she found herself fidgeting with the long strands that draped in her face. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on the words staring at her from her electronic device. Instead, her mind drifted into a rehearsal of the speech she planned on sharing with Jackson.

  Well, crazy story, this…I met a guy in Colorado who convinced me I was special and over the next eleven months, he took me to amazing places and then…funny thing…I ended up being in his cartel in Venezuela.

  She thumbed to her mobile phone chat window and typed out a quick text. I need to tell you something when you get home, k? Just a quick share. Xoxo. Then, she pitched the phone next to her on the sofa.

  Whiffs of her quick and easy supper of noodles and tomato sauce wafted up from the bowl next to her on the side-table. She’d mostly just picked at it, leaving the fork laying in the bowl with a few fat noodles stabbed onto the prongs.

  Long shadows draped over the furniture, created by the lone lamp next to her. Her colorful blue, green, and gold wool wrap coiled around her legs, keeping the evening chill at bay.

  When Jackson’s truck tires crunched along the driveway, her head jerked up from her tablet.

  More tires crunched the driveway. She glanced out the window to see Jackson emerge from the passenger side of his truck. Then, the guy she’d seen with Jackson earlier got out of the driver’s side and rounded the front of the vehicle to bid farewell with a handshake and a clap on the shoulder. He made his way toward a four-door sedan, got in the passenger side, and drove off.

  The dogs lurched from their beds and trotted to the front door, tails wagging.

  “Uh, oh,” she muttered. “Can I really do this?”

  She reached over and grabbed her glass of wine which rested next to her bowl of unfinished noodles. Lifting it to her lips, she took a sip. Then, she set the glass back on the side table, rose, and sauntered to the front door. She opened it, and the dogs wriggled outside to greet Jackson.