I shouldn’t have welcomed him back, but a life without him wasn’t worth protecting.
If Nolan wanted to hurt him, he’d have to fight me first.
And I was sure I’d regret that challenge.
I woke in the middle of the night. I checked the time. Groaned. I had work in the morning, and I wasn’t about to make a walk of shame to my apartment after all eyes had been on me at the meeting.
I shifted from his arms. Maddox stirred, but he was always a heavy sleeper. I cleaned up in the bathroom and tossed on my clothes without waking him. At least no one would see me at two in the morning, despite the thirteen missed calls from random townspeople after the meeting.
The voicemails kept me company during my walk home, but the light cast by the phone was more of a comfort. Whether it was the darkness, the stillness, or the paranoid prickle on my neck, something felt wrong about my walk. I stilled on the steps before my apartment door.
The door wasn’t shut all the way.
…But Maddox had me lock it before I left.
Did someone break in?
I swallowed, pushing the door open and glancing inside. I heard nothing. Was that good or bad?
My finger poised over the speed dial for Maddox, and I slipped inside, flipping on a light and expecting a masked murderer, a creepy little ghost child, or worse of all—Nolan.
No one waited inside. Everything was still. Untouched.
The hairs on my arms rose. Just enough was out of place. The rug kicked up by the door. My magazines scattered in the wrong order on counter. The sink was wet, like someone ran water. They even stole a chocolate chip cookie.
I crossed to the dining room table and gasped.
A Zippo lighter stood on its edge, left as a message for me.
Someone had been in my apartment.
And, next time they visited, they’d burn it to the ground.
12
Maddox
“It’s an easy job.” Nolan waved the envelope in front of my face, like I was a dog chasing a steak. “Believe it or not, you’re the only one I trust to do it.”
“Bullshit.”
I popped the collar on my jacket. Didn’t matter. This time of night, everything was cold. That uncomfortable clammy after midnight when only these type of deals were struck. I worried our conversation echoed over the town. It didn’t. Nolan parked on the quiet edge of Highland Street and leaned out of the SUV’s window. He gave me the plans.
“You’re a good electrician. My family’s barn has lights with bad wiring. Need you to fix it.”
“You joking?”
“Even you could use an honest day’s work.”
Neither of us ever worked an honest day in our lives. I sneered. “I’m not electrocuting myself on your property for Matthias’s wages.”
Nolan snorted. “Of course not. That old man would’ve gone broke without Josie’s candy shop fronting him money for tools. I’ll pay you what I’d give for your…other jobs. For the discretion.”
“You’re afraid to be seen with me doing electrical work?”
“I’m running an election campaign. Can’t have felons working on my property.”
“Right.”
“You better keep this quiet. Don’t tell Josie.”
Like I’d be stupid enough to tell her. I gritted my teeth and took the money. “When do I start?”
“Sooner the better.”
This was a mistake, but at least I’d have a couple grand for whatever expenses came up. Money for a new pair of jeans. Court fees. A pizza and movie for Josie.
I’d stuff the remainder in Chief Craig’s pocket to stay the fuck away from my sister.
The more things changed, the more they had tendency to screw you over. I was gone a year and everything was still fucked up. Chelsea got lucky I was out of prison and could save her ass, though Christ only knew how long it’d last. I couldn’t support both my sister and Josie. I didn’t need to eat, but they did.
Josie worked four days a week at the Saint Christie Reporter, organizing her superiors’ desks because she had no other duties. She didn’t belong at the newspaper. She should have been in her kitchen; making cupcakes and covering herself head to toe in flour. I’d make it happen for her, as soon as I found the arsonist responsible for the fire.
Until then, I’d earn whatever money I could to help her and keep my sister out of trouble.
The Rhys family owned a farm five miles outside of town. Nolan went into law, but he kept the land. Only reason I knew or cared was because Chelsea had always liked the house. She used to talk about working a farm with a family, everyone helping out and depending on each other for a better life. I hated to remind her, but we did work together when we were kids. We sold what Dad told us to sell on the same corner. I got the black eyes when the deals went bad. Chelsea got it worse.