Slow Ride (5 page)

It was Sam’s turn to snort now, ”Yeah, well, Saybrook is a sick fuck who gets off
on hurting people—men, women, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Only thing he is going
to respond to is tactics like that. We disrupt his extracurricular activities, he’s
going to be pissed and won’t hesitate to come after us.”

Roger crossed his arms over his chest. “That prick will come after us whether we stir
shit up or not. I just want this over with. I’m sick of living under this cloud. I
want my town back.” The guys were silent. All of them had known Cheryl and all of
them had been there for Roger when she was killed. They all wanted this over and were
hoping, once the chief was brought to justice, Roger could find some closure. Hell,
they all needed some closure.

“We’ll get this done, Roger. I swear to god we will. I don’t care how long it takes,
we’ll finish it.” The other men murmured their agreement and soon the meeting started
breaking up. Some grabbed another beer; others went back to playing the game system
for a while. Cooper stood quietly, took a pull of his beer, and wondered if Kyla was
asleep.

A few hours later when only his closest friends were left, Phil spoke up. “Cooper,
you seemed distracted. What’s up?”

He glanced up and glared at Phil’s smirk. “I am not in the mood for your crap tonight.
Not with this Saybrook shit happening.”

Saybrook had a history with each, all of it involving trying to beat the tar out of
them, and all of them giving back as good as they got. Saybrook hated them with a
passion and loved nothing more than to interrupt their businesses, customers, and
their families. He had the town council on the run, and he was getting more overt
and aggressive in his power grab of late, even going after some of the women who worked
at the local strip club. He was a brute who spread fear without fear of reprisal.
Without fear of anything, really.

Cooper took a last drink and set the empty on the counter. “We got a Mustang in the
lot, make sure no one touches that or I will find them and beat them bloody. In fact,
park it in the last stall. We don’t use it anyway, and cover it. Don’t want it getting
crap on it.”

He rolled his eyes at his so-called friends, who were fighting their grins. “Shut
up. All of you. We’re done.”

“Right, Coop.” Derek shook with laughter. “Already staking your claim and protecting
the girl’s assets. And from what Phil said she has plenty of those.”

“True dat!” Phil joined in. “She was all tits and ass and her hips . . . dayum, only
chick I know who works it better is Sheena. Kyla is hot.”

A muscle ticked in Cooper’s jaw as the boys continued to rib him. “I’m fuckin’ serious,”
he growled so low his friends stopped and looked at him with surprise. “That car is
off limits.”

Phil nodded, clearing his throat. “You got it. Let’s get outta here,” he said to the
others. “Early day tomorrow. ‘Night, Coop.”

Roger stayed behind and once the other guys left, he spoke, “I’m leaving for a while,
Cooper. I know I said I’d help with this shit, but I need some air.”

Cooper looked at his friend, noticing the tiredness in his eyes. “You need me to go
with you?”

Roger shook his head. “Nope. Lots of shit has gone down since. . .” He didn’t say
her name. “Anyway, I’ve been working non-stop since it happened and it’s just all
catching up to me. I’m barely hanging on to my control, and one of these days I’m
going to see Saybrook’s smart-ass grin and punch him in the fuckin’ throat.”

“Well that’s one way to get rid of him,” he replied, his tone dry.

“Yeah, it is. One that will land me in a cage, and you know I can’t live in a cage,
Coop. I’m sorry, man.”

He clapped a hand on Roger’s shoulder. “Don’t need to apologize to me. I get it. So
get the fuck out of here. Who’s handling your projects while you’re away?”

Roger pushed off the counter, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I got my two foremen
handling things, and Sam is overseeing it all. That lazy fuck just has to take care
of his club, so I’ve hauled him in to help me out.”

Cooper grinned. “He is lazy, isn’t he?” He shook his head because they both knew Sam
was the hardest working man they knew outside of themselves. “You going to be on grid
or you going off?”

Roger rocked back on his heels. “Mostly off, though I’ll check in with my cell now
and again. I’m thinking I need to hit the West Coast, visit some friends out there
that Sam and I served with.”

“Do it, man. Sam and I can handle shit here. Be sure to tell him if he needs anything,
I can lend a hand or get some of the guys here to help out. Half of ‘em are your part-time
crew anyway.”

Roger grabbed his leather jacket from the couch and shrugged it on. “Thanks. I appreciate
it. Just don’t take the fucker down until you give me a heads up. I want to be here
when that shit happens. Take care, Cooper.”

With that, Roger walked out the door to his truck. Cooper’s head dropped and he stared
at his shoes searching for some control over his emotions. He knew Roger had been
having trouble with Cheryl’s death. Hell, what sane person wouldn’t? He just hoped
Roger would be all right on his own. But then, maybe that was what the man needed.
Cooper wondered what it would be like to just leave town. He snorted. Like that would
ever happen.

Cooper walked out the door, moving across the parking lot to check the garage. Kyla
had closed the heavier curtains over the sheers at her window, but he could see the
flicker of light from the television between them. She was probably in bed and he
wondered if she was wearing anything from that duffel bag. Groaning, he set the security
alarm. He knew those were thoughts he shouldn’t be having before heading home alone.
It would make for a long night.

• • •

It was cold as she lay in a pool of her own blood, her broken body finding any movement
almost too much to take. Was her brother, Mike, okay? Why wasn’t he moving? Was he
that still because he was dead? Tears stained her cheeks and she covered her mouth
with her hand, groaning when she saw the spots of blood. She watched him walk toward
her with one eye, her other already swollen shut. As he loomed over her, she struggled
to curl into a fetal position. The air left her lungs and her body shook from the
impact of his kick to her stomach.

“You will not leave me. You hear me? You belong to me and even if you get away, I
will hunt you down like the worthless bitch you are! Do you hear me?”

She sobbed harder as he grabbed her hair to haul her body up toward his face. She
caught a glimpse of the metal underneath his jacket, the buckle of his holster so
close. She knew she would only get one chance at this. She lifted her battered face
and nodded, trying to convey her acquiescence. “I’m sorry,” her voice only a whisper
from the earlier choking she’d received. “Please, I won’t go. I swear.”

Frank looked down on her and smiled as he gripped her hair tighter. He kissed her
lips, covered in a mix of blood and tears. She cried out from the pressure as her
hand moved into his jacket. When she felt the grip, she kissed him back to keep up
the charade. She just needed to distract him for another minute or so.

“You’re mine. Mine forever,” he hissed against her lips.

Using what little strength she could muster, she pulled the gun into her shaking hands
and shoved it into his chest. He pushed her back when he felt the barrel, his eyes
wide. She remembered all those times her dad had taught her to shoot in the backyard.
She tried to get to her feet, her knees wobbling. “Stay away from me or I will shoot
your head off!”

He laughed, his voice like nails on a chalkboard to her ears. “You won’t shoot me.
You’re weak, you need me. Who’s going to take care of you? You think your daddy will
save you? He washed his hands of you. He couldn’t handle his only daughter being the
drug addict that you are. I’m all you got. Now give me the damn gun!”

His words felt as bad as the earlier punches he’d given her, and in her head she was
convinced what he was saying was true. She’d lost her way; everyone had washed their
hands of her, everyone but Mike who was lying on the carpet in a pool of ever-expanding
blood. He wasn’t moving. Had all her shit gotten her big brother killed? No one would
ever forgive her then. She choked on a sob, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She
had nothing left. She didn’t want to die, but she wouldn’t let Mike’s death go unavenged.
It was that knowledge that snapped her out of the pain, even if only for a brief moment,
as Frank stepped toward her. She pulled the trigger, once, twice, three times, until
Frank finally fell to the ground.

“I told you to stay back. You never listened to me,” she screamed. She heard the thud
of the gun as it hit the floor near her feet. She was vaguely aware of sirens in the
distance as she slid to the floor, collapsing from the sheer amount of pain and adrenaline
shooting through her own body. She crawled over to Mike and pushed at him, but he
was a dead weight. Not afraid to let the tears fall anymore, she curled up next to
him, holding on as tightly as she could.

Kyla lurched out of bed, the sheets twisted around her, her hand covering her mouth
as she stifled the scream she felt bubbling inside of her. She got up and splashed
water on her face, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She shook her head, whispering
to herself, “Please just get out of my head.” She begged the demons in her mind to
leave her be.

Her reflection didn’t respond, and after her heartbeat slowed to normal, she sighed
and made her way back to bed. She stared at the ceiling for a long while until sleep
finally claimed her.

Everything Kyla needed during the next several days was in walking distance, which
was obviously a good thing given she was wouldn’t have a car for the foreseeable future.
She hadn’t been back to talk to Cooper yet, not wanting to face her rapidly decreasing
finances and a car that was nearly, if not mostly, dead. In her self-guided tour of
Ashten Falls, she had the occasion to catch his gaze and he would nod, or give her
a small smile. The look was always intense and lasted longer than someone just being
polite. And that look made her insides twist, in what she remembered was supposed
to be a very good way.

She walked into the bookstore and stood quietly in line as the man behind the coffee
counter served those in front of her.

“What can I get ya?” The clerk was just a touch taller than she was and looked to
be somewhere in his fifties. She immediately recognized him as the first man who had
stopped to offer help, before Cooper. “Hey, girl. I wondered when you’d stop in. I
had heard Cooper picked up a beautiful woman outside of town and had to figure it
was the pretty thing I saw standing near the ‘stang.”

“Um, thanks.” She felt a slow blush creep up her cheeks and he winked, still smiling.
“Large chai, please. With soymilk if you have it. And a muffin, chocolate chip?”

“Coming right up.” He moved to start making her order. “I’m Steve Donohue, I own this
place. Welcome to Ashten Falls.”

She offered a tentative smile, sliding cash across the counter to cover the cost of
the chai and muffin. “I’m Kyla, Kyla O’Grady.”

He gave her the change, watching her closely. “Nice to meet you officially, Kyla.
Interesting name. I like it.”

“My parents thought I was going to be a boy and had picked the name Kyle. And when
I was born my mom wanted to use it, so she tweaked it a bit.”

“Well it suits you. Come on over here, have a seat, I’ll introduce you to some folks.”

Kyla hesitated, shifting her feet as she stood with her chai in one hand and muffin
in the other, not sure whether to beg off the invitation. She ran through her options:
she could politely decline, saying she had to go and sit in her room by herself, proving
she was the loner Frank had turned her into. Or she could stay, grit her teeth, and
take the first step to going back to who she was: friendly, sometimes funny, and not
an extrovert, but not a wallflower either. In a split-second decision she chose the
latter, not wanting to give Frank any more power over her. He was miles away, and
would get his eventually. She followed Steve to a table and sat down in the chair
he had pulled out for her, smiling at the three already seated there.

“Kyla O’Grady, meet Rose Martin. She owns the motel you’re staying in. This is her
son, Justin Martin, local reporter extraordinaire, and his wife, Maggie. Maggie owns
a local clothing store for ladies. Something you’d probably love, being you’re a woman
like she is.”

Kyla couldn’t hide her smile. “Well that’s kind of stereotypical.” She took a drink
of her chai before adding, “Though you’d be right.”

Steve laughed. “See, I knew it.” He shrugged and Kyla wondered if he was always this
jovial. It was like his smile was permanent and he just radiated happiness.

Rose offered her hand across the small table. “Nice to meet you, dear. I heard rumblings
about a new woman in the town. Most have nothing much to do around here but talk about
stuff that isn’t our business.” She winked at her, not hiding the fact that she was
a gossip. “Word is Cooper Moretto drove you in.”

“Yeah, he saw me on the side of the road after my car tanked on me.”

“Not often that Cooper offers a helping hand, unless it’s something he wants. Must
have seen something he liked.”

Kyla’s eyes slid to Justin as he spoke. He was average, not bad looking, but very
clean-cut, and he looked like he was born to be a reporter, right down to the Clark
Kent glasses and the pencils and small notepad in his shirt pocket.

Maggie leaned over, patting her clenched hand. “Ignore my husband. Cooper is a nice
man, long as you don’t get on his bad side. He is a miracle worker with cars. I am
sure he will help ya get it running again. What are you doing here in Ashten Falls?
Was this a planned visit or were you heading somewhere else?”