The Outskirts (The Outskirts Duet #1)

Shit.

Sawyer had just suffered a concussion for fuck’s sake and now she was wandering around in yet another afternoon storm when the one the night before almost killed her.

Florida weather was unpredictable at best. The schizophrenic rain certainly wasn’t helping me find Sawyer any faster.

After searching the house and porch, I jogged over to her truck and yanked open the door.

Nothing.

Besides the yard, the swamp, or possibly hiding in the brush somewhere, there weren’t many other places she could be.

She could have hit her head and fallen into the water. Encounters with snakes, wild hogs, panthers, bobcats, or alligators. Fuck, the animal didn’t even have to be scary. The wrong mosquito bite could mean the end.

I made it around the house and immediately my eyes locked on my boat, teetering back and forth in the water as the rain created a wake where there usually wasn’t one.

Making my way over as fast as I could, I yanked the covering from the top and there she was.

I exhaled.

Soaking wet. Shaking. Holding her knees to her chest on the floor of the boat. Her teeth chattering louder than the rain splashing all around us.

She didn’t react when I lifted her into my arms. I cradled her shivering body against my chest and carried her up to the porch.

She still said nothing when I turned on the shower, stripped us both of our wet clothes and held her under the hot spray until I felt the trembling leave her body and her chattering stop.

I wrapped her in a clean towel, picked her up again and carried her to my room where we both got in bed and I tucked her warm naked body against mine.

There wasn’t much I could offer Sawyer, but what I could give her was distraction. I talked nonsense to her about everything and anything until she fell asleep.

The rain stopped completely.

The wind chimes on the porch sounded. The ones Jackie had made for our new house when we’d moved in together. It was the only possession of hers I’d taken with me to the swamp.

At first, they played just a sporadic note or two until it became a full-on symphony.

The music floated through the now eerily still night. Not a cricket could be heard. Not a frog croaked. Not a mosquito buzzed.

For hours it was just me, lying there wide awake with Sawyer in my arms while the chimes relentlessly reminded me of a past that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to forget.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Sawyer





“Is it true that your RV got mangled by a twister?” Kayla asked, popping her gum and sticking a pen into the messy bun on top of her head.

It had been over a week since I’d seen Finn. I’d woken up alone the next morning and soon after, Josh had stopped by to check on me.

I’d been sleeping on the couch in her apartment ever since.

I’d gone back over to the swamp shack to thank Finn for saving me. Twice. But both times there was no sign of him.

The only reason I knew he’d been around at all was the blue tarp that had been placed over my wrecked camper.

“I don’t know if it was a tornado for sure, but something got it in the storm,” I said as I felt my heart sinking.

“Were you in it when it happened?” Maya asked, appearing with a tray of drinks in hand raised above her head.

“Yes, but luckily Finn pulled me out.”

If on cue, the band chose that very moment to stop playing. Kayla and Maya gasped in unison.

“He did what?” Missy asked in a whisper, over pouring a shot of whiskey. Amber liquid spilled over the rim of the shot glass and pooled on the bar. “Shit,” she swore.

“Ladies?” Critter raised his eyebrows at the girls who reluctantly picked up their trays and headed back to wait on their tables.

“Thanks,” I said, grateful to be out from under their scrutiny although I was sure I hadn’t heard the end of it.

“Finn, you say?” Critter asked, flipping a rag over his shoulder. “Haven’t seen that boy around in a while.”

I tried to sound casual. “How do you know Finn?”

“Told you. I know everything and everyone. Finn’s a good kid, but he ain’t been around in a long time.”

“Why did he stop coming around?” I asked, washing my hands in the sink.

“That’s not for me to say.” Critter smacked the register and it sprang open. “I’m not one to go around telling other people’s stories.”

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t know?” I teased.

“That’s not it. I told you. I know everything and everyone.”

Suddenly I wished I hadn’t torn the picture of my mother into bits and pieces. Critter had told me when we first met that he didn’t know her, but it was a long time ago. Maybe the picture would’ve jogged his memory.

“Finn giving you any kind of trouble?” Critter asked. Wrinkles formed on top of his wrinkles as a worried expression crossed over his face.

“Not really,” I answered. Not the kind that Critter could fix anyway.

“You let me know if I need to kick that boy’s ass for you. I may be getting on in years, but I’ve got some fight left in me for punks like that.” Critter adjusted his belt.

“I thought you just said he was a good guy?”

“Good guys,” he wagged his pointer finger, “those are the worst kind of punks.”

“Let me ask you something, Critter,” I started, arranging napkins into the little plastic holders clipped to the inner edge of the bar. “Do you think people can change?”

Critter paused and licked at the corner of his mustache. “Well, I think people can do just about anything they damn well want, including change. My mama used to tell me that we’ve all got the devil in us, some just got it buried deeper, while others take direction from it. If that helps any.”

I looked up at the tings on the ceiling. Every time the front door opened they danced and twirled together. “I don’t know if it does just yet.”

“You’re something else, kid,” Critter leaned in and whispered, “and you can quote me on that.”

The door opened again, the tings clapped together as Josh and Miller burst through the front door, squawking at one another like seagulls on the beach fighting over breadcrumbs.



“It’s not polite to eavesdrop,” Critter nudged me on the shoulder.

“Eavesdropping would mean that it would take some effort on my part to get closer so I could listen in.” I pointed to Josh and Miller who’d been talking and arguing back and forth LOUDLY for hours.

“That’s what I told you the first time,” Miller groaned.

“That is not what you said,” Josh waved her finger in his face.

I smiled up at Critter. “I don’t think it’s eavesdropping if they’re talking loud enough that I can hear them from all the way over here.”

“Noted,” Critter replied with a laugh and a tip of his chin.

“Josh, baby, when are you going to get that pretty head out of Vaginaville and let me introduce you to Cocktown again?” Miller asked, at a volume slightly above the guitar player in the corner.