I shook my head and started toward my truck. “Keep him in line, Tyson.”
Steven snarled and cursed. “We’ve got so much dirt on your precious girlfriend it’s not even funny. We’re going to ruin her, and you won’t be able to do anything but watch.”
I forced myself to keep moving, not to give the asshole what he wanted. But it cost me. Because I wanted to remove every threat to Aspen from this Earth—and do it permanently.
34
ASPEN
The bell over the door jingled, and I fought the urge to groan as Janice Peabody walked inside. I’d thought I wouldn’t have to see her for a few weeks after our tiff over how she talked about Roan. But the triumphant smile on her face told me my time was up, and this visit wouldn’t be pleasant.
The café had been slammed all day. I didn’t blame people for being curious. It was a natural reaction. But I did blame them for treating me like a monkey at the zoo.
There had been a steady stream all morning and into the afternoon. They’d order a drink or treat and then blatantly stare at me as I worked. It made me want to pull on a monster Halloween mask and shout boo.
Thankfully, an hour or so after lunch, things calmed down. My regulars like Jonesy and Elsie came in, and Zeke finished his shift. I could breathe again.
Until now.
Janice strode toward the counter, a cat-that-got-the-cream smile on her face. “Aspen. Or do you prefer Tara?”
I jolted at the use of my old name. Just those two short syllables made my stomach cramp and memories threaten.
I did everything I could to keep any reaction off my face. “What can I get you, Ms. Peabody?”
Annoyance flickered across her face. “I just was curious if you felt bad for lying to all of us for years.”
Jonesy lumbered out of his chair. “Janice…”
I held up a hand to tell him I had this. “I didn’t lie to a single one of you.”
Janice’s brows pulled together. “You lied about your name. About where you’re from. About what you did.”
“I’ve got a legal driver’s license that says my name is Aspen Barlow. Not a lie. I never actually answered a question about where I’m from; I avoided talking about it. Also, not a lie. And unless you were in that house where I was chased with a goddamned knife and stabbed, then I’d back the hell off—also not a lie.”
Janice’s mouth fell open.
Jonesy started a slow clap.
I let out a long breath. “And now, you can leave and never come back.”
Red hit Janice’s cheeks as she sputtered. “You can’t kick me out. You don’t own this coffee shop.”
“No, I don’t. But I am the manager, and Sue has given me permission to ban whomever I see fit. That’s you and the vile bullshit that always comes out of your mouth.”
“Well, I never—”
“Shut it, woman,” Jonesy snapped. “And get your booty movin’ on out of here.”
Janice glared at him. “Your family won’t be welcome in my establishment anymore when they come to visit.”
“They don’t want to stay there anyway. Grae got them a discount to stay at The Peaks. They’re gonna be livin’ in the lap of luxury instead of having to deal with your oversalted eggs.”
“I do not oversalt my eggs,” Janice huffed.
Jonesy shooed her toward the door. “Maybe you’re losing your sense of taste along with your good sense in your old age.”
Janice didn’t even try a comeback for that one, she just stormed out.
Elsie’s gaze jumped from the door to Jonesy to me and back to the door. Her jaw was slack, and her eyes wide. “That was…”
“A buncha bullshit,” Jonesy muttered and turned back to me. “You okay, darlin’?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.
He made his way back to me. “You’re shakin’. Why don’t you sit down?”
Elsie leapt to her feet and hurried over to me. “Come on.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sad,” I said quietly. “Not scared.”
Jonesy eyed me carefully. “Then what are ya?”
“I’m pissed,” I muttered.
He barked out a laugh. “Now that I can get behind. That woman is a piece of work.”
“Understatement of the century,” I grumbled.
Elsie’s lips twitched. “You need water or anything?”
“What I need is a shot of whiskey.”
She grinned. “I could get behind that. Maybe we need a night out on the town.”
I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Maybe once things calm down. Sorry about the drama.”
She waved me off. “Please, this is the most excitement I’ve had all week.”
I chuckled. “Well, I hate that I removed your source of entertainment.”
Jonesy snorted. “I can do without that busybody. One of these days, she’s gonna look around and realize she has not one friend in the world.”
Elsie frowned. “That’s sad.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But she’s gotta start to feel those consequences, or she’ll never change.”
Something flashed across Elsie’s eyes. “People rarely feel consequences these days.”
I studied her for a moment. It wasn’t the first time I’d had a hunch that Elsie had been through some things. It was the tiny things she let slip and the shadows in her eyes. But I never pushed. I knew from experience that would only make her bolt.
“You know what we need?” I said.
Jonesy’s bushy gray eyebrows lifted. “What’s that?”
“Double chocolate peanut butter cup muffins on the house.”
He grinned, patting his stomach. “I’d never say no.”
I glanced at Elsie. She forced a smile, clearing those shadows. “I do love chocolate.”
Plating muffins for all of us, I sent them back to their respective tables. We all chatted as I worked on cleaning tables, grabbing bites of my muffin in between. Jonesy told us story after story about his childhood in Cedar Ridge. The time when he and his friends stole a boat and took it for a joyride. When they toilet-papered their principal’s house.
I sent him a chastising look. “I had no idea you were such a troublemaker.”
“It’s how I stay young,” he said with a charming grin.
I snorted. “It’s how you get away with anything.”
The bell over the door jingled, and Officer Smith poked his head in. “Is it all right if I use your restroom? That coffee you gave me was a little too good.”
I motioned him in. “Of course. It’s right down the hall.”
He disappeared, and I started to head back to the counter, but the bell tinkled again. I turned to greet the newcomer—and felt all the blood drain from my face.
“Hello, Tara,” the man said.
He was at least ten years older than me, his dark brown hair silver at the temples now, but I’d never forget his face. His photo had been printed beneath byline after byline. Ones that questioned whether the cops had found the right person. Ones that called my mental state into question. And worst of all, those that called me a manipulative liar who was jealous of my sister’s happiness.
“Get out,” I croaked.