Second Chance SEAL(93)
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. You’re right about that.” I looked at him, studying his face intently. “What’s your mask look like, Travis?”
He glanced at me, his face breaking into his usual cocky smirk. “I don’t wear a mask, sweetheart. What you see is what you get. I’m as open as they come.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I said softly, but he only laughed in response.
People weren’t always what they seemed. Was he trying to tell me something about himself? Travis seemed like a cocky asshole, a bad boy and a player. But he was good at heart, and he was clearly doing what he could to keep me safe. Could I trust him, even if he had a closetful of masks himself?
I wasn’t ever going to get a good answer for that, unfortunately. As much as I wanted to get underneath that cocky swagger of his, that man had so many defenses built in.
As we drove on, I hated to admit to myself that he might be right. I might really be jealous of that Janey girl. The way she touched him, how beautiful she was, it all just seemed too easy for her.
I was never popular growing up. I was a normal girl, smart and good at some things, but nothing ever came super easy to me. I worked hard for everything I had, because that was how my parents had raised me. I wasn’t sophisticated, wasn’t perfect. I was a little rough, a real farm girl.
Janey though, she seemed like she belonged in a big city, not in some backwoods town like Knoxville. Just being around her made me feel a little smaller, a little embarrassed.
Maybe she was the leader of a violent gang. That could make sense if she had the power to make people feel so small. Even Travis had been slightly less cocky around her, though that was probably because of their complicated history together. I couldn’t even guess what that meeting had been like for him.
Janey Caldwell. She was interesting to me, and I’d only met her for a few minutes. I suddenly found myself wanting to know her better and wanting her to know me.
That was a powerful quality to have, maybe the sort of quality a real leader needed.
We drove in near silence for the rest of the ride. I thought back on the day and found myself smiling. Despite the strange encounter at the end, I’d had a ton of fun with Travis. I had loved beating him on the ATV, making him laugh, and fooling around with him. He had a surprisingly good sense of humor, plus he made me simply feel good.
Then there was tricking that meathead into giving away some secret mine shaft locations. That had just made me feel useful and important. I’d been worrying that I was going to be a drag to Travis, that he’d be able to do all of this better without me. But I wasn’t going to step aside and let that happen. In the end, I was going to be in control of my own fate.
My head was so full of questions and concerns as Travis parked the car near the apartment and climbed out. He grabbed his bag as I got out and followed him, lost in my own mind.
He paused outside the door while I unlocked it absently. He moved ahead of me, brushing past me. I blinked.
“What’s the rush?” I asked him.
He held up one hand, his face all business. “Wait here,” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
“Wait here.” He pulled a gun from his pants. I hadn’t even known it was there.
“Okay,” I said, suddenly afraid.
He disappeared up the steps. He waited outside my apartment door before pushing it in and going inside, his gun held ready.
I stood there rooted to the spot, fear coursing through my veins. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.
There weren’t any sounds, no gunshots or shouts. A minute later, Travis stepped back out of the apartment and waved me up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I got to the top of the stairs.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “Someone from the Dixie Mafia is here.”
I went to ask more questions, my heart beating fast in my chest, but he stepped away and into the apartment. I followed him and shut the door behind me.
Sitting at the kitchen table was a man I’d never seen before. He was thin and gaunt, almost too thin. His hair was thinning and there was slight stubble along his face. He wore a dark suit and had a gun on the table in front of him, within reach but not too near him. He smiled as I stepped into the room.
“Hello, Hartley,” he said. “My name is Culver. Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Talk to me, not her,” Travis said, his face hard.
Culver looked at him. “Okay, Travis Rock. I will, although the girl can speak for herself.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to check up on the two of you.” Culver leaned back and crossed his legs and arms. “How are you doing?”