Slow Ride (4 page)

“God damnit!” He muttered as oil began dripping everywhere, including on him. He had
been distracted and hadn’t moved the oil pan into place.

He heard Phil’s chuckle and rolled out from under the car, glaring at his friend,
“What the hell are you laughing at?”

Phil shook his head, his grin getting even bigger. “You give me crap all the time
about being wrapped around my woman’s finger. Now, look at you. It only took a half
hour for you to get distracted by a woman. So I’m enjoying this.”

Cooper mouth tightened and his look turned even darker. “I’m not distracted, and definitely
not distracted by a woman I don’t even know.” He shook thoughts of Kyla out of his
head and stalked toward his office. “I got paperwork to do. Finish this oil change.”

• • •

Kyla had forced herself to not look back as she moved through the office door. He
was cute. No, he was hot, but she didn’t like the way he had her stomach jumbling
around. No. She loved
it, and that made her let out a small noise of frustration in the back of her throat.
The man was gorgeous
and tall. He had to be six-four, which made him six inches taller than her. She always
dated men who were taller than her, but with Cooper—hell she could wear heels and
still come up short.

Kyla shook her head to stop those thoughts in their tracks. She couldn’t afford to
get lost in a man, no matter how good looking, and no matter that her body would not
object if she did. She’d sworn off men, especially hot ones, forever.

The motel’s office area had seen better days. The manager, Morris, was a smarmy-looking
fellow with very few teeth and copious amounts of sweat dripping from his brow, and,
like the office, had seen better days. Or hopefully had. When Kyla asked for a room
farthest away from any neighbors he cackled, telling her that there was a vacancy
sign for a reason. He handed her a key and looked her over with lecherous eyes. She
snatched the key from his hand and shivered before hurrying out.

As she went up the stairs toward her allotted room, she wondered how a place like
this could have such beauty in the flowers and lawn care, yet hire someone like Morris.
He did not seem like he fit in at all. At least he had given her the room all the
way down at the corner of the building, which meant it was slightly bigger than the
others, and away from the gaggle of children she passed at the top of the stairs.
They stopped, silent for about three seconds, before they resumed their game of tag.
As she slid the key in the door, Kyla took notice of the wraparound, open front balcony
that went around the corner to another set of stairs leading to the center quad area
of the motel. There, a sidewalk wound around to meet the parking lot in front. Her
eyes fell to the garage next door, an empty lot with trees scattered about in no particular
design, separating Cooper’s place from the motel. She saw a tire swing hung from one
of the larger trees and noticed that the lot seemed well taken care of, mowed with
pockets of flowering bushes and wildflowers here and there.

A large area in the back of the garage ran the same length as the motel property,
half of it paved, the other half grassy and also well maintained. A selection of cars
and bikes littered the pavement, along with a large grill next to the back door. There
was an overhang with various mismatched lawn chairs and a picnic table underneath
it. Beer cans littered the area. She snorted, wondering just what kind of parties
went on back there. Beyond the garage building itself she could just make out a door
to another building, connected by the lot in the back. It was the music store they
had passed on the way in.

She unpacked what she could, having paid for a month in advance, and dumped the clothes
she had into the dresser and small closet in the small bedroom. She kept her laptop
and other important things in the case with a lock. She’d have to get a padlock for
the closet door.

Kyla put that on her growing list of essentials, and then she checked the sheets,
surprised to find they were clean and seemingly devoid of bugs and mysterious bodily
fluids. She made a pile of dirty clothes, making a note to get some detergent, too,
and finally, when her last bag was unpacked, she dropped them in the bottom of the
closet. She looked around, relaxing for the first time in a long time. She had been
driving for a very long time, never staying anywhere more than three nights. She didn’t
have the resources for a name change. Her best option had been to empty her bank account
and carry around her cash. She had a little left in her account for emergencies, but
even that wasn’t enough for the car repairs. She worried that Frank would somehow
track her down, but it had been a while since she’d heard anything from him, and her
Mom had said he seemed to be settling into his life without her. He had even been
seen out with some other girl.

I will cut you up so bad, bitch, no one will recognize your whore face. You will not
get away with what you did.

Ice formed in her veins as his words echoed in her mind. The bastard had been confident
as they stood outside the district attorney’s office. The prosecutor wouldn’t be pressing
charges against either of them since it was a mutually combatant situation. The DA
also wanted to avoid a mess, and what happened that night between Kyla and Frank was,
at the very least, a mess. Kyla had been out of the hospital for only two months at
that time, and hadn’t seen her ex since that night in the apartment four months before.
Six glorious months of no contact; it was absolute heaven. She had moved back in with
her mom, finding support at home, though her brother, Mike, was not happy with her.
The situation put him, an assistant district attorney in the county, in an awkward
and uncomfortable position given that he had to work with the cops, who were all standing
behind Frank. Mike had come to blows with a colleague trying to defend his sister,
and almost lost his job. The injuries he’d sustained, and the time it took him to
recover, hadn’t been easy either. All of this had strained his once close relationship
with Kyla and made them both unsure of where they each stood with the other.

Kyla looked for work—having gone to one of the best conservatories in the country,
she wielded a dual degree in piano and vocal performance. She had wanted to put the
focus back on her music, and go back to giving lessons to kids who wanted to learn
an instrument or to sing. Eventually her goal was to get a Master’s degree so she
could teach at schools, but she hadn’t gotten that chance. And hell if she’d been
able to find a viable job around their hometown after the incident. Frank’s friends
were powerful. With no job, she couldn’t afford going back to school.

Kyla had felt lost, and even with her family at her back, her frustration with her
situation had grown, and she had gotten restless. Just when she thought things couldn’t
get worse, they did. When the phone calls started, she had tried to ignore them. But
the night Frank followed her home from one of her domestic violence group meetings
had been her breaking point. He forced her off the road and then handcuffed her to
the car door as the rain poured down. He yelled and screamed but never touched her.
He just made sure she knew all the things he would do to her when he got the chance.
After what felt like hours—though it had been only about thirty minutes—he uncuffed
her and drove away. She made it into her car and locked the doors, shivering as she
called her counselor.

Jane didn’t hesitate. She drove over and followed her home.

To say Mike had hit the roof would be an understatement. Mike had wanted to go after
Frank and make him pay for what he’d done. But some of his anger seemed directed at
Kyla. He wanted to be done with the drama, to not have to deal with the way the situation
was dividing the town. He wasn’t siding with Frank. In fact, he wanted Frank to be
off the force and out of their lives. But he was sick of dealing with the gossip,
the stares, the unannounced and unwelcome visits by cops and lawyers to sort through
the mess. He’d had enough and he wanted Kyla to stop putting herself in situations
where Frank could get to her. She had stared at him, open-mouthed. Mike had tried
to make peace, realizing what he’d said was wrong and apologizing. But once the words
were said, Kyla couldn’t let them go. She walked away finally and started packing.
Her mother tried to get her to stay. She had cried, but she knew Kyla needed to leave,
not only for her safety, but because she couldn’t get better while living with reminders
of the past.

If you had listened in the first place, none of this would have ever happened! We
told you he was bad news!

Jane hurried Kyla along, stuffed her car full and had Kyla follow her to her place.
She hadn’t spoken to her brother since. With good reason, given what he’d said. But
dammit if she didn’t miss him like crazy.

She picked up her phone, starting to dial, figuring she’d better check in.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Where are you tonight darlin’? Your brother is here for dinner.” She heard Mike holler
a hello to her in the background.

“Tell him, uh, I said hi.” Her voice was almost shy as she climbed into bed. “Um,
the car died and has to have major repairs. I’m staying at this motel in Ashten Falls.
It’s a small town in Maine.”

“Honey, how much do you need?” She felt a pang in her chest. Her mom always trusted
her. Always. Even when she’d lied, threatened, raged, and nearly died. Her mom had
always trusted her. Knowing that, hurt.

“It’s okay, Mom. I . . . I’m going to figure it out. I have to, ya know? I mean, it’s
not an ideal situation or town for that matter, but I have to learn to fix these things
on my own.”

Her mom was silent for a few beats. “I’m proud of you, honey. But you don’t have to
prove anything to me. Just please remember, asking for help isn’t a weakness.”

“Thanks, Mom. Listen, I’m really tired and need some sleep, but I’ll call again soon,
okay? We need to catch up on our soaps.” She gave her mom the name of the motel and
the town, in case of an emergency.

“Oh, we do! It’s been getting juicy lately,” her mom practically squealed, which made
Kyla laugh. “Good to hear you laugh, love. You get some sleep”

“Love you guys.” She hung up and curled up in a ball, letting the fast-approaching
sleep wash over her.

• • •

Cooper was standing out back of the store, having a smoke and staring off toward the
motel. He had watched Kyla make her way to the room at the end of the building on
the second floor. Lucky for him, it was the side closest to the shop. He could see
Kyla moving around, her shadow playing on the curtains. His eyes were still on the
window of her room, covered by a set of sheer curtains, when the light turned off.
She had to be exhausted; he could see that in her eyes when they were in his truck.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, “Hey man, guys are all here. You want a beer?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Phil. Thanks. Let’s get this over with.” He made his way back inside
the shop and leaned against the counter at the front of the store. A few of the guys
were flipping through the bins of music, another was playing around with the drum
set, and a few others were parked in front of the television playing video games.

“Anyone got any news?”

Roger spoke up first. He was tall and looked like he could break someone’s neck with
just a look. But his broad shoulders and thick thighs were softened by the dirty blond
hair he kept short. He had the start of a scruffy beard on his face. He set his sunglasses
on top of his head and crossed his large arms over his chest. “Man, when is this community
protection going to stop? I mean I get it, we got a corrupt police department, but
considering I gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn every morning, these night shifts
are not working for me.”

Sam cleared his throat from the couch. “I’ll take some night shifts. The club is running
pretty well with the managers I got in place, and they can always get me on my phone
if something comes up. I think the better thing though is to just get the information
out there and let people know we’re setting up a sort of neighborhood watch. This
way, if someone gets into trouble they know to call us whether it’s to contact one
of the attorneys in town, or get a bail enforcement agent to set something up to get
‘em out. Sounds kind of simple, but I mean, if we’re trying to keep people from getting
beat on, just putting the word out to get in touch when they get jacked up by the
cops would go a long way. Could also be a way to collate information, keep a database.”

Derek spoke then. “I could set something up, we could take each person’s information
and description of what happened, dates and whatnot, leaving names out of course.
Then we have more to hand over to . . . well, whoever the fuck decides to look into
this.” He scowled. “Coop, what’d the feds say?”

Cooper snorted. “Some phone jockey took my information, said they would look into
it, which probably means they never will.” He ran a hand through his hair and let
out a frustrated breath. “But Sam’s right. If we have numbers, stats, something in
writing to give them, they may be more inclined to get Saybrook the fuck out of here
and put him in a cage where he belongs.”

Roger started speaking again, but Cooper’s mind wandered to Kyla. Her mouth had been
one of her most distracting features, full lips and a smile that lit up her green
eyes. Though when her temper flared, that was pretty fantastic, too.

“Cooper, you think that’s a good idea?”

He snapped his head up; taking a second to recall what had been asked. “Yeah, that’s
fine with me. Whatever y’all want to do, make it work. Look, guys, I know this sucks.
We shouldn’t have to police our own cops. But if we disrupt the shit they try to kick
up and are a presence out there to protect the people we care about, or rely on as
employees, we might make a bit of headway until someone official looks into this shit.”