Justine Davis - Always a Hero

“I know. But my … resources have.”

“You get a nine-to-five?” she asked wryly.

“Shit, no,” Max exclaimed with a grin. “I’m a freelancer, you know that. The everyday grind, that’s for drones, you know? Worker bees.”

Like your parents, she thought; the Middletons were a hardworking pair, but they were anything but wealthy. And Max still lived with them, Kai suspected because he had them charmed—or buffaloed—into continuing to support him, negating the necessity for him to actually do something with his young life.

“Don’t tell me you talked your dad into springing for expensive, high-end speaker gear so you can blow him out of his own home?”

He laughed again, but there was an edge in it this time, as if something she’d said had rubbed his pride the wrong way.

“Nah,” he said. “But he’s giving me the garage. I’m going to convert it into the biggest, baddest entertainment room in this whole loser little town.”

Kai had the thought that if the latter was really true, accomplishing the former wouldn’t take much, but kept it to herself.

“So, you gonna order those bad boys for me?”

“Look, Max,” she said frankly, “I can’t afford to eat the cost of an order that big. You sure you can manage it?”

She’d been afraid he would take offense—funny how those with the least reason got their egos in a pucker the easiest—but instead he reacted as if he’d only been waiting for her to ask. With dramatic flair he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

“Sure, I can. I’ll even pay the whole thing in advance,” he said with a smile that told her she was supposed to be impressed.

“Cash?” she said, surprised.

“I’ve been saving up. Doing some favors for a friend,” he said, with a pious look she couldn’t help doubting. “He’s very grateful.”

He was counting it out as he laid it out on the counter, mostly tens and twenties but the occasional fifty and even a couple of Benjamins.

“You’re sure about this?” she asked, wondering what was wrong with her, why she didn’t just leap at the sale. It would put her well into the black for the month, and lessen the worry about the next month as well. And he could have easily just ordered them online, or gone out of town to one of the big electronic or audio/video stores that would have what he wanted, maybe even in stock. But he’d come here, and she should, she told herself, be more appreciative.

Even if she suspected he had more in mind than just a proprietor-customer relationship.

“There’s more where this came from,” he answered. “There’s always more.” He flashed that smile at her again. “I’m even paying my old man rent, how about that?”

Well, that’s something, Kai thought, and pulled out a form to make the order. She made a call, found out the equipment was available for immediate shipment. When she had all the information, she marked down the amount paid, and signed the receipt.

“Hey, look at that, I finally got your autograph!”

She couldn’t help laughing at that. “I’ll call you when they come in. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.”

“And don’t forget the phone number after,” he said, with what she supposed was his best effort at a leer.

Max was always flirting with her, in a clumsy way she found odd and somewhat amusing, a reaction she guessed he wouldn’t be too happy about.

Today’s riff, a Stephen Bruton favorite, sounded again. She looked over, and was relieved to see Jordy coming in. Apparently his father had decided against forbidding the boy to come here.

Or he had, and Jordy was disobeying.

She hoped it wasn’t that. Not only for Jordy’s sake but her own; she so did not want to be in the middle of that mess, with Wyatt Blake coming after her again, the way he had last week. She’d be happy never to see the man again.

But somehow she didn’t think she was going to be that lucky.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

John Hunt looked up and motioned Wyatt into the office.

“Close the door, will you?”

Uh-oh.

Wyatt did as asked, but warily. John was normally the most approachable of bosses, genial and willing to listen, hence the usually open door.

He stopped in front of the man’s desk, shaking his head at the offer of a seat; he hoped he wasn’t going to be there that long. Hoped as well this was just to catch up after the man’s recent business trip. Doubted he was that lucky.

“I meant to tell you this before I left for the East Coast, but I’m afraid it slipped my mind. I’m still not sure if it means anything, but it might to you.”

Truly wary now, Wyatt asked, “What?”

“About a week before I left I got a phone call about you.”

Wyatt went very still. “A phone call?”

“From somebody else who owes you.”

“That’s what they said?”

John nodded. “They thought I might know where you were.”

A week before. And John had been gone two weeks. He could have been already burned three weeks ago. His mind was racing as John studied him.

“I told him I didn’t. Just like you asked.”

“Thank you.”

For all the good it would do. If whoever it was knew enough to call here, then he could find him. John was the only one who knew about his desire for secrecy; they’d decided early on it would make things worse rather than better if they asked everybody at Hunt Packing to keep him secret. Better just to give them nothing to talk about.

But that didn’t help if you had people calling and asking about him directly.

And back then, it had been merely a precaution. Now, this coupled with that emailed warning….

“Wyatt—”

His boss stopped when he shook his head. And let him go.

Wyatt headed back to his cubicle. When he’d gotten tangled up in the mess John’s youngest daughter had gotten herself into, he’d been startled to learn the man’s business was headquartered so close to his old hometown. And been thankful she’d gone off to the big city to get herself in trouble; he’d been nowhere near ready to go home, for any reason.

And now here he was, back again, hiding. Trying to keep his son out of the same kind of mess.

Only now he was wondering if his own less-than-tidy past was going to follow them here.

Wondering if anybody ever got to truly leave their past behind them.

“Hey, kid,” Max said to Jordy.

“Hi, Max!”

The boy seemed thrilled that the older boy—Kai couldn’t think of Max any other way—had acknowledged him. Did more than just acknowledge him, even gave him a friendly, man-to-man-type slap on the shoulder.

“Been practicing?” Max asked as Kai brought out the boxes containing his speakers and added them to the stack.

Jordy lit up at Max’s attention. “Yeah! Kai let me play BeeGee the other day.”

“Miss Kai,” Max said with a fair approximation of Old World charm, “is a generous soul.”

“She’s the best,” Jordy said, so fervently it made Kai smile.

“Thank you, Jordy,” she said.

“Gonna play in a band someday, like she did?” Max asked, with every evidence of genuine interest in this boy at least ten years younger than he. His two buddies treated the boy like most guys their age would, with annoyance bordering on anger, but a few weeks ago Max had changed, started being nice to Jordy, at least around her.

But it seemed different to her today.

I hear there are some guys who hang out here, guys I don’t want my son around….

Wyatt Blake, that was the difference. He’d unsettled her, made her suspicious.

Even as she thought it, watching the two males talk as if they were of an age, she knew that wasn’t quite true. Because it was odd that Max had started to show up mostly in the afternoons, around the time Jordy always came in. Odder still that someone Max’s age, unless he was a relative, would even pretend such an interest in a kid so much younger. And she’d thought that even before Jordy’s father had come barreling into her life.