When the Heart Lies

Chapter 6





Jackson lay sleepless in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t get the picture of Kinsley out of his head. The way she waited for his kiss and watched his lips until they met hers. Either this case ended soon or he was going to lose every ounce of integrity he had. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

After waking up early, he headed to breakfast. Uncharacteristically, he passed up the buffet and got some coffee. Kinsley, was nowhere in sight. When he saw Scar, he signaled her to the table.

“What the hell happened last night?” she asked.

“What didn’t happen? I made things worse by taking her out of here. Things happened. I’m supposed to be helping, and I screw things up. Not to mention I can’t get her out of my head.” Kinsley was becoming his drug, and he needed to shake his addiction. “Now, on top of everything, I’m giving you far too much information.”

“I thought you might be getting too involved. Please tell me you didn’t … ya know.”

“No. Well, not really.”

“Not really?” Her tone was unsympathetic.

“Let’s just say things happened, and they shouldn’t have.” His palm cradled his head to the side while his fingers and thumb worked his brow and temple. Professional boundaries were nonexistent at this point. After a moment, he stopped and dragged his hand up to his chest in an attempt to clear the acid working its way up. He leaned back to search his jeans pocket, retrieved the last antacid from the roll, and popped the circular relief into his mouth.

Scar left the subject alone. “What was all the yelling in the hallway about?”

“We didn’t return until four. They found out we left the building.”

“Shit.” Leaning back in her chair, Scar fell silent, but her spoon continued to tap an annoying rhythm against her coffee cup. “What do you think Pierce will say?”

“Pierce will gripe, but he’ll bend my way.” He threw the plastic coffee stirrer he’d been chewing on onto the table. “The stuff between Kinsley and me is what I’m worried about. What was I thinking, letting things go so far? I’d like to kick my own ass.” Never had he compromised a case the way he had with this one. If he could, he would remove himself. He was beyond that option now. Sensing she needed him, he couldn’t walk away.

Scar leaned forward, arms still crossed. “I’ll tell you what you were thinking.”

He popped her in the head with his balled up napkin. “Not necessary.”

She popped him back. “You’re such a man-child. Have fun with Pierce.”

“Yeah, about time I face the old weasel.” He stood, and as he walked away, he reached out to muss up her hair like he use to when she was a kid, but since about age thirteen, she saw it coming and ducked. He headed down the hall to meet with Pierce.

He knocked firmly on Pierce’s open door.

“Come in.” It was evident from Pierce’s harsh tone he was cross.

He entered the room, nodded to Pierce, and spoke in a determined tone. “I need to talk to you about last night.”

“Talk to me? Or tell me to ignore it and let you walk out the door with no consequences? I should have never agreed to you posing as a patient.” Pierce slammed the pile of folders he held onto his desk. “Sit, we need to talk.”

“I’m fine standing.”

Pierce stood behind his desk, leaning forward onto his fists with stiff arms. With Pierce’s display of authority, Jackson glared at him. “Don’t try to turn this into something about you and me.”

“Jackson, please.” He looked at him again, offering a seat with his hand. “I’d like to iron out our differences.”

Jackson scoffed and shook his head. “That’s never going to happen.”

Pierce rubbed his forehead and somberly lifted his eyes. “I did everything I could for your mother, Jackson.” His hand moved from his forehead and dragged downward. “You’re a grown man, but you still behave—it’s not like I pulled the trigger.”

“You might as well have.” He leaned onto the desk across from Pierce with an inflexible stance and a fierce look. “I’m here to talk about Kinsley.”

“Okay, Jackson, let’s talk. Do you want to risk assuming you know what’s best for Kinsley? What’s going on with you? Why are you getting involved with her? She’s married, and you’re well aware how that can end.”

“I wasn’t assuming anything, and I certainly don’t need you to worry about me. We both agree, it’s my fault she was out of the building.” He leaned toward Pierce. “I need you to assure me you won’t give her a hard time because of my error in judgment. She feels bad enough. That’s all I’m here for.”

“I’m a doctor, not a warden. She can leave any time she wants. However, she did miss two resting vital sign checks, and if anything had happened to her, it would’ve been on your head.” Pierce frowned and batted the air. “Relax already. I’m discharging her. She’s fine.” He glanced down at his desk, shook his head, and returned his eyes to Jackson’s. “I’ll always feel like I owe you something.” He reached out in an attempt to shake his hand.

He looked at Pierce’s extended hand, and his face soured. “You don’t owe me shit.” He spun around fast and left.

When he entered the hall, Scar walked right up to him. She was the one person who got him. He could unload on her without judgment. She understood him better than anyone did, and after talking to Pierce, he was glad to see her.

“So, how’d everything go?” she asked.

“He’s discharging her.” Even though he was happy for Kinsley, the thought of having to watch her from afar again was a downer.

“Cool, she’ll be relieved. You okay?”

He leaned flat backed against the wall and attempted to maintain his usual confident stature. Every part of him dragged. The palms of his hands covered his tired eyes, and he massaged them. “Yeah, listen, I’m going to try to get a hold of Olivia. I wanna meet the guy I’m working for, or he can find someone else. I’m sick of working in the dark. Check on Kinsley. Don’t let her know I sent you.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. We’ll get together when I get back. Call if you need me to pick you up.”

He headed into Olivia’s office to get a meeting with the man who hired him. The large precinct in Le Grand was full of commotion as usual. He worked his way to Olivia’s office, stopping only when necessary to respond to greetings from people he’d become acquainted with over the years. His departure from the force to pursue private investigations was taken as a great loss to the department; he had been one of their finest investigators.

He knocked on the counter, getting the attention of the cop nearby. “Is Olivia in?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her you’re waiting.” The cop picked up the phone and proceeded to spill his coffee over the files on the oversized, metal desk. “Shit.” Grimacing, he headed to get a paper towel.

Jackson held in a chuckle and walked back to Olivia’s office as he usually did, or he’d be waiting forever.

“Geez, Jackson, just walk in, why doncha. I get no respect around here,” Olivia said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean no respect? I always respect you.”

“Yeah, maybe for a little while in the morning. Through breakfast anyway.”

“I thought we weren’t going to mention that again.” The friends with benefits thing they had attempted was over as soon as he sensed she was falling for him. As much as people raved about it, someone always ended up wanting more.

She exaggerated a disgruntled face. “Coffee?” She posed like a hostess with the pot of coffee kicking one leg back to feature the killer four-inch heels she wore. “Me?”

He ignored her flirtation. To let him off easy wouldn’t be like her. No one would deny she was sexy and had personality to boot. Her short, curly black hair and the red lipstick she wore made her appearance similar to one of those Forties pin-up models. “No, I’m good. I’ll make this quick. Did you talk to the client?”

“Yes, and he agrees now’s the time to meet. Only one problem. He’s in New York. He says he can get us on a plane in four hours. We’ll be landing mid-afternoon.”

His jaw set. “Will you ever grasp the fact I hate to fly?”

She made a funny face and shrugged.

He swatted the air. “Whatever. Will we be back before morning?”

She added a frown to the funny face and shook her head. “He set up a couple of rooms for us at a nearby hotel.” Now, she smirked.

The woman had no shame when going after what she wanted. Usually what she wanted consisted of them ending up naked, and the scenario was getting far too frequent for comfort now that his feelings for Kinsley were getting stronger.

“His name is Xavier Wentworth; he’s her father-in-law.”

“Her father-in-law, huh. What’s his interest in her personal life?”

“Said he wants to be sure she and Max are safe, and after the incident with her boyfriend, he wanted more information. When I called to tell him the police and ambulance were at Wayde’s house, he told me to make certain she was well cared for. I told him about Lakeside, and he arranged for her stay.”

“What’s this guy like?”

“Nice guy.” She bit down on her tongue—letting just the right amount of pink show a little. “Loaded, in every way.”

“Oh, brother. You, too? What’s the attraction to old guys lately? And what’s with you and him?”

“I spent some time with him. A long time ago. Never completely broke him down though.” She expelled a long growling grunt. “God, I was so into him. I was an intern in his legal department. He’s married. The relationship never went much beyond a causal affair. Something changed, and he ended things, but he was good to me and still is.”

“What’s the husband like?”

“Nick? Total ladies man, especially after Kinsley left, from what Xavier says. Drinks too much. If we do see Nick or run into anyone else, you’re my date.”

His head dipped, and he looked at her steady from below his lashes. “Your date?”

“That’s right, my date. What’re you, too good for me now? Unless it’s Jonathan, he knows me, and he’s aware you’re watching her.”

“Why all the covert maneuvering, Olivia? What’s really up with this guy, and who the hell is Jonathan?”

“Xavier’s very protective when it comes to his family. Jonathan’s his personal assistant. More like an old-fashioned butler, actually.”

“Seems to me Nick should be the concerned one. I’d better go pack.”

“Twelve-thirty flight, your ticket will be at Continental’s check-in. Oh yeah, bring dress clothes, Jackson.”

He turned to leave while raising his hand, signaling he got the message. If he hurried back to the motel, packed, and drove straight to the airport, he’d make the flight, but the schedule left no leeway for sentimental goodbyes, and he had to forgo seeing Kinsley.

~ ~ ~

There was a double knock at Kinsley’s door. She could barely open her eyes. It seemed like she hadn’t slept at all. “Yeah?” When she finally pried them apart and looked at the clock, she was surprised at the time.

An unknown male voice spoke from behind the door. “You’re late for an appointment with Dr. Pierce. You have ten minutes.”

Great. Today would be a fantastic day. She ran a comb through her hair and imagined what Pierce would have to say about last night. After pulling herself together, she headed to Pierce’s office.

His door was open, so she stuck her head in. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said, trying to appear truly contrite.

He leaned back in his chair, smiled, and waved her in. “Come in and have a seat.”

She sat and waited, expecting a lecture.

“What happened last night? Sounds like you got caught up in a bit of confusion.” Pierce’s tone sounded more concerned than angry, and he seemed uncharacteristically relaxed compared to their last visit.

She lowered her eyes, embarrassed by her immature behavior the previous night. More than ever before, she felt conflicted. She had no business complicating her life any further. “I made a decision without thinking things through, and I ended up doing something stupid.” Really stupid.

“Well, I’m glad you realize it was stupid. Aside from that, I want you to realize it was impulsive.”

When he put his hand up in a gesture of understanding and made direct eye contact, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Once you’re aware you have the tendency to do impulsive things, you can consciously try to make a choice to review an action before engaging in it. I’m not judging you. You said yourself the pills were impulsive.”

He made sense, and she agreed with him not only because she wanted him to discharge her, but also because he was right. If she hadn’t been impulsive and left New York, she wouldn’t be in this fix. “I’m curious, why couldn’t I make any phone calls yesterday?”

“After an incident similar to the one you experienced, I find people are very emotional. Sometimes they need to think about what they really want and take time away from the conflict for solitary reflection. Does that make sense?”

“Makes sense.” The way she went back and forth about calling Nick, he had a point. She wanted to call him, but in many ways, she remained afraid.

“Yes. It’s a different approach, but I find it works. I’m told I have some old fashion ideas.” He smiled. “Let me ask you. Do you still need to make those calls today?”

She shook her head. As she told Jackson, she should get out of this bind on her own. Or at least attempt to.

“Well, I can see from your records and from talking to you, you’re an intelligent, healthy young woman. I’m discharging you this morning. I’ll give you a prescription for Xanax in case you find yourself anxious like you were the night you came in.”

It was amazing how cooperative he was being, but she wasn’t going to question her luck. She was glad to be leaving. “Do you think I need the pills?”

“Just in case. Sounds like you have your hands full right now. It’s better to have some if you need them. You can fill the prescription at the pharmacy downstairs. Just don’t take them all at once.” Smiling rather handsomely and with good humor, he nodded, letting her know she was free to leave.

It would take Wayde at least a couple hours to get Max ready and get to Lakeside. She stopped at the nurse’s desk to call him and then headed to her room to rest. She was at an impasse. Say goodbye to Jackson, or skip it? He clouded her judgment. The whole three months she’d been with Wayde, she’d only thought about being home again. That’s all she wanted to focus on. Maybe she was losing hope of ever going home again. Whatever it was, it was enough of an opening for her to allow Jackson to slip in and confuse things even more. She went over to the bed and slumped down into the softness. What was I thinking to leave New York with nothing but a small book advance? Nick would never have wanted her to leave with no money. At the time, she wanted him to worry. To care. She’d give up the love of a man for Max, but Nick had to at least care.

Curled up and spooning her pillow, she imagined Jackson. To her, he was simply a pleasant diversion. That’s what she told herself. A man she could pretend would always look at her the way he did now and would love and want only her forever. He was a silly fantasy, but she chose to daydream anyway. She conceived the heat of his skin against her face, the firmness of his chest against her hand, and the smell of him. She could almost feel his hand on top of hers as it lay against his chest. Imagining him breathing, she synchronized her breaths with his and fell asleep sensing him next to her. The memory of a man she’d given up to be with Nick, a man who truly loved her, taught her how to relax and fall asleep that way. She wasn’t sure if she could give that up again.

~ ~ ~

Jackson boarded the plane and took his seat next to Olivia in first class. “I’m not looking forward to this, especially the overnight trip, and I thought I was going to be able to touch base with Kinsley before she left.”

Olivia’s silence spoke for itself. He’d try to be more sensitive of her feelings for him.

Leaning in, he spoke in a softer voice. “So? Talk to me, what’s happening with the audio at the house?”

“You’re supposed to be a patient. Goodbyes aren’t essential. Haven’t been able to get in yet. The stripper sleeps the day away, and he rarely goes out. Do you ever say hello? Or is everything all business since you dumped me?”

“I didn’t dump you. We work too closely, and you agreed. Why screw with our friendship. We should’ve never gone there. And don’t tell me what I’m supposed to be.” Olivia was a friend, a good friend. Not only a friend, but also his department connection. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with Olivia; he should’ve listened to his better half, which wasn’t the half he’d been thinking with at the time. The same went for Kinsley, too. But with her, he was thinking with only his heart. He wasn’t completely comfortable with thinking that way, but he didn’t seem to be able to change the fact that Kinsley had captured that part of him.

“Ah, huh. Sure, you’re worried about our friendship. A limo will pick us up at the airport. We’ll be joining Xavier at a restaurant near his morning meeting. Later tonight, he wants to have dinner with us. His wife Angela is coming, Nick too. He wants us to socialize a bit with Nick and see what’s going on in his head about the situation.”

“Doesn’t this family ever talk to one another?”

“They haven’t been close in the last few years. He and Nick rarely talk now. Nick knows nothing about you watching Kinsley.”

It was odd that Nick hovered in the background unaware that his wife was being watched on the instruction of his father. With the disjointed relationships in this family, Wayde wasn’t the only one he would be focusing on. “Something’s not right here, and I want to find out what that something is.”

The crook in Olivia’s lip and her ceiling bound eyes confirmed—she was annoyed. “Jackson, I simply think an overly concerned father-in-law is making up for his son’s apparent lack of interest. You’re digging for something that doesn’t exist.” She flipped open a magazine. “A simple case of a grandfather wanting to be apprised of what’s going on with his grandson. That’s what this is. Period.”

“Checking in on someone to determine they’re safe is one thing, but monitoring all their conversations? C’mon Olivia, I’ve been doing this a while. If Xavier were her husband, I might be more inclined to agree with you. Something’s eating at me with this case.”

“Something? Or someone?” The pages of the magazine she was reading snapped as she flipped them.

He snubbed her comment.

She stopped flipping pages and glared at him. “All I can tell you is if Xavier is interested in what’s going on, he has good reason. You’re probably thinking he has a lot of money, so he must have an ulterior motive, but he’s not like that. He’s a straight shooter, one of the most honest men I’ve ever met.” She closed the magazine calmly and turned to face the window.

They fastened their seat belts to prepare for takeoff, not bothering to try to talk over the jet engines. Both appeared to be glad for the relief.

When they were in the air, he turned to her and asked, “So, what other information do you have on the family?”

“I told you, not much. I did meet Kinsley once though, at a benefit for some trauma center.”

He ignored her disgusted expression. Olivia could be that way when the conversation wasn’t about her. “Well, what did you think of her?”

“I’m not sure. She’s one of those women.” With a half roll of her eyes, she made her opinion clear.

“One of those women?”

“You’ve seen the type. Elegant, walks around like she’s crystal and all the other women are cheap plastic.”

“Ha, your claws are showing.” He made a sound like an angry cat and laughed. He knew his teasing and flirting drove women crazy, but it was just his way. The tension it created kept conversations from getting too deep. If a woman needed more than that, she needed more than he could give her. Until Kinsley. He couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t want to give her.

She peeked around at the other passengers who appeared unaware of their conversation, and elbowed him in the side.

~ ~ ~

Not long after dozing off into her fantasy, Kinsley woke up. A mixture of dread and happiness washed over her. After discharge, she’d be with Max, which would be wonderful and put her mind at ease, but she’d go back to Wayde’s God-awful house. She wondered how she’d ever stayed for three months. The past seemed so hazy now. She sat on the side of the bed, staring at the wall across from her. For a long time, she kept her focus on the wall in an attempt to keep her head empty of thoughts. Eventually, the trance was broken when a nurse knocked on the door and stuck her head in.

“I need you to sign your discharge papers. Here’s a couple bags for your clothing. Your ride called. They’re running late, but they’ll be here soon.”

She signed the papers, filled her bags, and headed to the main room to get some coffee and wait for Wayde.

The dining area was quiet this morning. She poured her coffee on autopilot, looked around, and saw the empty table she and Jackson sat at only yesterday —if she sat there. Too late. She was already thinking about Jackson. Her legs took her to the table anyway, and she sat, tapping her fingers mindlessly against her coffee cup. She’d wasted far too much time on him already. Who was she kidding? She would never forget her time with him. Soon after, Scar sat down next to her. Kinsley acknowledged her, but didn’t say anything.

“You don’t look good. Are you okay?” Scar asked.

“I don’t know.” She did know. She felt powerless and unsure of the future. Even a bit heartsick. She wouldn’t see Jackson again. Regardless, that’s the way it had to be.

“Jackson’s kicking himself for taking you out last night.” Scar said.

“I went because I wanted to. It’s ridiculous for him to blame himself.” Suddenly, the emotions of the previous night overwhelmed her; she couldn’t contain herself and bumped Scar, being silly. “If by any miracle we were ever alone together again, I’d probably strip myself naked within five minutes, and we’d be tangling limbs, unable to get enough of each other.” She laughed, but then sobered her tone, trying to convince both of them of the validity of her next statement. “I don’t want those kinds of distractions. Besides, his confidence is annoying.” The way he looked at her was problematic, too. Because she reveled in it. She didn’t want to, but she did.

Scar laughed. “Ha, I’m certain the feeling is mutual…ya know, with the naked tangling stuff.”

A little flutter tickled her stomach. She tried to avoid it. “Dr. Pierce is letting me leave; my ride will be here soon.”

“Great.”

She looked at Scar. “I hope it’s not out of line to ask, but why’ve you been here so much?”

Scar hesitated briefly. “I’m bipolar. This place reins me in. I feel safe here. Other times, I get down and need to snap out of it. Being here helps.”

“It must be hard being here so much. Well, at least this place is comfortable.”

The bipolar —it’s hard sometimes, but I’ve learned to stay on my meds, and Jackson’s a big help.”

“Seems like he’d be helpful. I suppose I should say goodbye to him.” Strange as it seemed, it was as if she’d known him for a long time. And even though he infuriated her, he was appealing. Not a safe mix.

“He’s very helpful. This morning he needed to take off to do some stuff for work though. I’m not sure he’s going to be back before you leave.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but slowly closed again. Why do I care if he said goodbye? He was being nice to a needy stranger. No more.

“Here’s my number in case you need anything,” Scar said. “You can call me, you know.”

“I know. I’ll call if I can.”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to call me?”

“I’m not alone often. Do you have an e-mail address?” She imagined the chances of getting an e-mail to Scar would be slim. E-mailing her when she returned to New York would have to suffice.

“Yeah, I’ll write it down for you. You want me to put Jackson’s phone number down?”

It took nearly half a minute of contemplation before deciding not to take the number. She had no doubt she would call if she became weak, but adding one more man to the circus she called life would complicate things further. She needed to fix what was already broken and forget about Jackson. “Thanks, but no, having his number wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Wayde and Max walked through the door. Max smiled and ran to her. She opened her arms, wrapped them around him, and laid her chin against his head. When holding him tight, he often filled her with the strength to go on. Scar lifted her hand a little and said goodbye.

Kinsley smiled, lifted her hand in return, and headed out to the car with Wayde and Max.

Wayde opened the trunk, and she put her purse and small bag in. She wished she could throw him in with them. After slamming the trunk hood down, she got into the back seat with Max. Wayde had driven Savannah’s car; that was unusual, but she was thankful for the privacy of the back seat. His truck would have forced her to be closer to him.

He leaned over and looked into the window. “What the hell are you in the back seat for?”

“I want to be with Max.” It bothered him. Things always bothered him. From now on, she’d only appease him when necessary.

“I don’t want to sit up here alone. I’m not your chauffeur.” He leaned with one arm propped on the roof and stared up at the sky. After taking a long drag of his generic cigarette, he flicked the butt from his fingers with the finesse of a thirty-year smoker. He continued staring at her.

“I said I’m sitting with Max.”

“Have your way now, but don’t think I’m putting up with this new attitude when you get home.”

“That shit box isn’t my home.” She bit her tongue; she was pushing the limits talking to him the way she was.

“Only home you got.”

She gave him a dismissive shrug, dropped her head against the window, and held Max’s hand. He fell asleep after the first ten miles. Eventually, she dozed off, too. When she woke, they were close to Wayde’s house. The landscape was dull and boring, not the Florida people think of. It was the other Florida where the terrain was nasty, and the people were poor. She stared out at the rundown shack housing of the predominantly Mexican migrants who picked the oranges. They had an invisible world of their own, separate from the community.

The drive was long, and when they finally turned into the driveway off the long stretch of dusty road, a wave of nausea swept over her. She hoped she’d never have to return to the place again. Her mind wandered to places she didn’t want to go, and she relived the last three months with Wayde. She wasn’t sure what was ahead of her, but something was, and not knowing worried her.

The house was small, like a box with windows centered on both sides of a door, and other than the acre the house stood on, it was surrounded by orange groves. A big, crooked, southern oak with downy moss hanging from the distorted limbs stood in the yard. The oak was picturesque, but its eerie appearance gave a sense of foreboding. Beside the house was another dirt road, and about a mile down stood a single-wide trailer with a barn and horse ring. Veda, her only friend, lived there.

With no assistance, she wrestled Max from his car seat and headed into the house. They entered through the kitchen door. The delicate floral print wallpaper covering the walls, in far too busy a pattern for the small room, had yellowed over the years. No doubt sped up by Wayde’s heavy smoking. The strong smell of stale cigarette smoke hung in the air twenty-four-seven. She squeezed through the narrow doorway into the small living room trying not to wake Max in her arms. The trampled beige carpet felt like concrete beneath her feet. The room, sparsely furnished with only a couch, loveseat, and antiquated console television that barely worked without cable, was gloomy. She tucked Max into his bed in the living room. Not in a bedroom of his own as Wayde promised. The stripper slept in there. He told her about Savannah when she arrived. Savannah was only staying for two weeks―three months ago. She kissed Max’s forehead and hoped if she got them home soon, he’d never remember the last few months.

In the closet of a kitchen, the small table and fridge were so close together she had to squeeze between them. She crouched down, opened the bottom cupboard, and stared at the bottles in front of her. Hard liquor never agreed with her. Still, she hoped a couple shots would help her sleep until Max woke up. After retrieving a bottle of vodka and a shot glass, she fell into the chair and poured the first shot. She was still looking at the glass when Wayde came into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing with that?”

“I’m hoping the alcohol will put me to sleep. Maybe I can get lucky and dream I’d never been here.” She was asking for trouble talking that way, but she was angry and frustrated.

“Maybe I can lay down with you, and you can get lucky.”

Now, you’re the one dreaming.

When she’d first arrived at Wayde’s house, he made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He’d convinced her she’d made her choice, and he told her he was going to be sure she got what she came for. Between her tears and her cutting words, sometimes she did get lucky, and he left her alone. At other times, she wasn’t lucky at all.

After downing the first shot, she poured another. She sat with her back three inches from the refrigerator. Wayde took his permanent seat on the long side of the table. The best seat in the house. If the stripper, Savannah were home, she’d be sitting across from her. And if the door opened, Savannah would cuss and scoot in a few inches to let whomever it was in. Usually, it was her married redneck boyfriend. The only other person who came to the door in the three months she’d been living with them was Savannah’s aunt, Wayde’s ex-sister-in-law. The aunt made it clear she’d only come to see ‘what kind of woman gonna go live with some man she don’t know and drag her kid along too’.

“You better watch how you’re talking to me,” Wayde said. “Don't know what you got full of while you were gone, but you’d better watch your mouth.”

“I’m going to lie down.”

“Shit, all you do is sleep. No wonder your husband got rid of you.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke. He just stared at the wall in front of him and took a big fat drag of his cigarette.

She downed her second shot, got up from the table, and set the glass down firmly in front of him.

When she went to bed, Wayde opened his cell phone and dialed. The call went directly to voicemail. He hesitated and then began to speak. “She’s home from Lakeside. Just how bad do you want to keep her here? And why don’t you ever pick up my calls. I’m getting sick of talking into the air. I love you.” He sighed and closed the phone.