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At the city limit sign, he slowed to the posted speed. No reason to get pulled over by the local police for a legitimate reason. If his memory served him right, the boys in blue would find a reason to search him out sooner rather than later anyhow since he was a stranger in town. Or at least that’s how things had been back in the day. Little did they know he knew the law better than they ever would. Plus, thanks to Koyn and Copper, he had an ex fed in his pocket close by. Of course, if needed, Keys had his own connections. It was good being a hacker. He’d sailed through school as a kid because he was smart not because he studied. Shit, if he’d have brought books home the Langley brothers would’ve taken a sick sort of pleasure in destroying them. No, studying was done while he was safely behind the walls of the school. He’d soaked in the knowledge as much as he could and even more afterward while he’d been in the Navy, then a SEAL. Even now he enjoyed learning new things. Knowledge was power.
The town looked different from when he’d been there. New shops had popped up on Main Street, teaming with businesses that mixed in with those that didn’t look any different from his memories. He bet his left nut the Mayor was having a coronary trying to control all the newcomers that had to be coming in and out.
Making his way to the B&B he’d booked indefinitely. He paid in advance since he was very aware of the shady shit the old man who ran the town with an iron fist could do. Keys wasn’t going to risk getting booted on a clause. Nope, he was smarter than them. The stares he was getting had to be making their way through the grapevine. “Let em talk. Gossip will get me some answers a whole lot quicker.”
Why he was whispering to himself he didn’t know but dammit, he really needed to control himself. This town and its ghosts were bringing out some bad habits he was going to squash once and for all.
Outside the Bed and Breakfast there were several empty parking spaces. He eased his Harley in backward turning it off as soon as his tire bumped the curb. The silence was nearly deafening in the quiet of the town. He sat for a moment, letting the moment settle into his bones. To his right he could see the road that led to the high school and middle school combined. On more than one occasion he’d walked home when he’d missed the bus. The road had been concreted, now it sported a fresh coat of asphalt. Across the road the row of shops had a few different businesses, but the same barber that had been there for longer than he’d been alive still appeared to be open. Dave Stevenson’s Barber with the swirling red and white pole that had to be worth something since it looked like a relic, still spun lazily. The other shops were more home décor and girlie shit. However, at the end was the local pub where the Langley’s had spent way too much time and money. McCormick Pub and Grill, a family owned place that always smelled delicious, but he’d never gotten to eat there since he’d never had the funds. Although the owners had always been friendly, he’d never gone near the place knowing he might run into one of the brothers. They’d gotten a facelift too, looking more family friendly and smelled even better with the fragrant scent of grilling meat permeating the air as smoke rose from the chimney.
He slid off his bike after a few more seconds, pulled his duffel from the back, and then with a final look around, made his way up the steps. At one time the B&B had been an old estate that had belonged to one of the wealthy families. That had been long before Keys time. He remembered the other kids talking about the place being haunted. Since it sat all by itself on the street and backed up to the woods, he didn’t doubt that it could be. With the town encroaching on the place, if he’d been a ghost, he’d have haunted the fuck outta the place too.
A bell over the door rang as he stepped in, announcing his presence. He didn’t think his entrance went unnoticed, not with his bike rumbling in. The young lady behind the antique looking desk looked up, a pleasant smile on her face yet she looked nervous. “How may we help you?”
Keys moved up to where she stood, setting his duffel by his feet but kept his backpack over one shoulder. His computer wouldn’t be leaving his sight. “Good afternoon, Kendra. I have a reservation for Keys Royal.” He already had his ID out, figuring she’d need that to verify who he was.
Kendra blinked, licked her lips then blinked again.
He waited, knowing she was gathering her wits. “Oh, let me check the system. Sorry, I was...um, doing homework.” Her hand shook as she took his driver’s license.
“No problem. Nice place you got here,” he said in a soothing tone.
“Thank you. It’s my parents. Oh, here you are. Ah, you don’t have a checkout date?” She put a piece of paper on the desk along with his ID.
“No, I don’t.” He signed the paper where he needed, not saying any more than that.
“Do you have some luggage? I can get you a cart,” she offered.
“This is it. I travel light. Is there anything else I need to sign?” Keys could see she was nervous but unless he could change from...well him to a man in a suit there wasn’t anything he could do.
“Ah, yeah, no. Here’s your key.” She rattled off the times they ate and offered to show him the amenities, which he declined.
“I’ll find my way, thank you.” He fished his wallet back out, the chain connected to it jangling as he did so. Inside he had credit cards and probably more cash than the young girl thought a biker like him would have, if the widening of her eyes was any indication.
“Oh, the general store is open until seven on weeknights and nine on the weekends,” Kendra said.
“Huh, so that’s not changed. The Thompsons still own it?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “Are you from here?”
Keys could’ve kicked himself. “Nah, I’m from California, kid. Here you go.” He gave her a fifty-dollar bill. “Make sure you study hard and don’t mess around. Hard work and grit will get you far.”
He turned away from the counter, lifting his duffel into his left hand, always keeping his right free. Supper time was a good hour away, so he didn’t expect to see any guests in the main part of the converted old home. He’d purposefully requested the master suite, paying twice the fee in order to secure it with an open-ended reservation. Since young Kendra hadn’t been able to see all that, her mother must not have put those details into the system. Again, a condition of his rental. Having money did a lot for a person, greasing a few palms got you into places that were locked tight before.
PALMER HEARD THE WHISPERS at the grocery store. Lionsville had no clue who the man in black riding the Harley truly was, but she did. Her stomach did a slow roll. She placed her hand over her mouth, hiding the grin. Good lawd, it had been years since she’d seen the bad boy who’d captured her teen heart, then ripped it out when he’d up and left without a word. She didn’t blame him, not when she was aware of the abuse he suffered. Oh, she was sure it was worse than even she’d suspected since it had only been the one time she’d stumbled upon him, but there had been more than one occasion he’d come to school sporting a black eye, limping, or holding his arm too close to his side like he’d been injured. It wasn’t until she’d gone to look for him one fall day, getting a whole lot more than an eyeful, that she realized exactly how awful his homelife had been. One couldn’t actually call it home. They’d all known it, the town, the teachers, even her grandfather. Yet nobody had lifted a hand to intervene, not back then.
That was until she found him lying on a rock in a stream near the river. Her heart pounded from the memory. He was nearly three years older than she’d been, almost eighteen to her barely fifteen, but she couldn’t have looked away if a bomb had gone off. He’d been bruised, and completely naked. Just the memory of his young lithe body was enough to make her blush.
“Why, Palmer Kincaid, if he’s not the cutest little thing. He’s the spittin’ image of you as a baby.”
She smiled up at Lauralei, the woman who’d been running the store since the dawn of time, or so it seemed.
“Good afternoon, Lauralei. I don’t know about that, but I do think he’s adorable,” she agreed.
Lauralei, waved her right hand in a shooing motion, making a tsktsk sound. “When you gonna let me babysit him for you? We were really sorry to hear about Thomas.”
It took monumental effort for her not to growl at the older woman. Her husband had been an abusive bastard. Would she wish death on anyone? God, if she’d been asked two years ago, she’d have said no to most cases, but that had been when she’d had rose colored glasses. On her wedding night they’d been ripped off, stomped on, and tossed in the garbage for good.
“Ah, there there, I didn’t mean to bring up such an awful subject. Why I know you’ve just buried him and all. At least you have this beautiful little boy as a memory, something to hold onto of him for all time.” Lauralei patted her arm.
Palmer didn’t correct her; didn’t tell her she had buried everything there was to do with Thomas Kincaid in that grave. Nor did she tell her she hated the man she’d married. She just nodded, letting her think what she wanted. “I just came by to pick up a few things for little man here. He’ll be a year old in a few weeks. I want to get him a few more things to try to eat. I’m weening him,” she said, feeling the loss, yet knowing it was time.
“You did so good. Lots of young girls nowadays don’t nurse no more. Not that formula isn’t good, but nothing can replace mama’s milk. If you need any help you holler.”
Palmer nodded, pushing the stroller with her sleeping son inside. She’d thought about grabbing a grocery cart, but since she was only picking up a few things for him, she figured she’d just add them to the bottom of his stroller. Small towns had their perks. Gah, she couldn’t believe she even thought that. With the bastard’s life insurance, her plan was to move as far from Lionsville as she could get.
She’d set up a time to meet Silas when Jaxson slept. Her son being the little bugger he was decided his sleep schedule was when he chose and well, he was now out. Palmer had learned that little ones decided when they slept and she just rolled with it, mostly. Since he was cutting teeth, he was a little more irritable than normal, which was why she had him out of the big house her grandparents owned. Plus, she didn’t feel at home there any longer, not since that fateful day she’d all but been sold off to the Kincaid’s. Nope, not going there. She’d rented a suite at the B&B without telling anyone in her family, expecting a huge blowout after her revelation, or as she was calling it, her ticket out of Hell.
Even now she could see the anger in her grandfather’s face as the lawyer had read the will, his clipped tone giving her complete ownership to the home which she’d already put on the market. If she ever stepped foot in the place again it would be too soon.
Her mind went back to the night before Thomas had died.
“Come on, Palmer, you know I love you. Put the boy down and let me suck on them titties.” He leered, stumbling to the side.
Palmer cuddled Jaxson closer to her, the little boy’s hand kneading her chest as she fed him. “Thomas, you’re a sick bastard. Either you sign those papers, or I will make sure you lose everything. And don’t think I haven’t made a contingency plan in case you decide to do something crazy. Just sign the papers and you and I can go our separate ways. Go find one of your side chicks or dicks,” she sneered. Inside she was shaking, glad her son hid it from the man who looked angry enough to commit murder. All she wanted was his signature and then once she had her son safe, she’d help save the others.
It had been a stroke of luck that she’d caught him with his pants down, literally. Video doesn’t lie and with him being the paranoid prick he was, he’d had them installed all around their property. She’d been recovering from giving birth to their son, which again luck had been on her side since she’d conceived within a month of their marriage. Thomas didn’t find a pregnant woman appealing in the least. As soon as he’d found out she was pregnant, his attraction had disappeared. Or maybe it was his need to abuse during the act that but not really being made him fear he’d cause her to miscarry. They couldn’t afford for her to lose the next Kincaid heir.
“I was drunk,” he roared, raising his hand as if he was going to backhand her.
“What you were or weren’t is not my problem, Thomas. You strike me and everyone in Lionsville and the counties surrounding us will have a copy of that tape and the others I found. Oh yes, did I forget to mention I did some digging? Sorry, darling, but I’m not the dumb little housewife you thought I was. Now, if you’ll please shut the door on your way out, I’d appreciate it.” She didn’t let him see her shaking as she spoke, keeping the gentle rocking as she fed her son. Not their son, she never called him that. No, Jaxson was hers, not the bastard standing in front of her, the evil glower on his face the only thing she’d seen since forever.
“One day you won’t have the protection of those tapes, Palmer. When that happens you better run.” He signed the papers giving her the home and a significant settlement. He glared one last time, not even bothering to look at Jaxson before he spun on his shiny loafers, nearly colliding with the doorframe. He righted himself, straightening his jacket but didn’t look back as he swung the door open, slamming it hard enough the pictures rattled on the wall.
Palmer let out the breath she’d been holding, her hand went to the back of Jaxson’s head. “It’s okay, baby, he’s gone. I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.”
After she’d caught him with his pants down around his ankles, leaning against his desk in his office, a man she had never seen before on his knees sucking Thomas like a machine, she had been shocked. No, she’d been almost paralyzed in fear. Her husband held the other man’s head with both his hands, forcing his head to move. She heard the whimpers the young man made, realizing he wasn’t a willing participant. With Jaxson in her arms, she was scared of Thomas hurting her or the baby who was only a few days old. Still, she made sure the young man wasn’t hurt any worse than she’d been, knowing the brutality of Thomas firsthand. Her fingers went to her mouth, remembering the way her mouth had been sore for weeks the first time he’d...raped her.
Noise from the office, so familiar, so gut churning had tears rolling down her cheeks.
“That’s it. Now, get up and don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who came to me for money. This is your repayment.” Thomas zipped his pants up. “Next time I’ll bend you over my desk and take your ass. You ever have a dick up there, boy?”
“I’m not gay.”
Thomas grabbed him by the back of his head, putting their foreheads together. “Neither am I, but you got a sweet mouth and I bet an even sweeter ass.” He kissed the kid.
Palmer realized the young man was a kid. Not a young man, but a kid.
Her mind reeled at the realization of just what Thomas had done. She moved back, hiding in the alcove when the boy left, his shoulders slumped while he wiped tears from his eyes. She wanted to storm into Thomas’s office, wanted to tell him want a monster he was. Her son sleeping so peacefully, her body still sore from his birth kept her back.
“Ah, fuck yeah,” Thomas muttered.
Hearing his voice, and the tone which sounded like he was excited, she crept back to the crack in the door she’d been at before. There, on the large monitor of his computer screen she watched as Thomas watched himself and the boy. From the angel of the video, she quickly scanned behind the bastard, noticing a camera between the books. Unbelievable, but not really since he was a narcist. A jarring apprehension hit her. If he videoed all his dalliances, then more than likely, he had ones with her and him, ones that were so humiliating she wanted to throw up. No matter what the cost, Palmer planned to search his files and get those videos. If she’d learned anything from her grandfather, it was to use what you had to get the upper hand.
She walked back to her wing of the house. It was not her home, never would be. It had taken her almost a year to complete her tasks of getting free with the evidence she needed. Almost a year and her bastard of a husband’s death, but she’d gotten it.
Coming back to the present, she bent down to look at all the baby food choices. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to mix bananas, carrots, and mangos? Or prunes and apples? “Blech,” she grumbled.
“I agree. Who the heck thought a kid should eat kale for fuckssake?”
Palmer turned her head at the deep timbered voice, startled to see a pair of black biker boots. Her eyes followed them up to a pair of black jeans. Holy crap on a cracker, the man has a bulge that would make any sane woman think twice about trying him on. He wore a black T-shirt with a black leather jacket, making her heart nearly burst as she saw a pair of stunning dark eyes, eyes she’d thought to never see again. “Silas,” she whispered.
He squatted down, putting his finger over his lips. “Ssh, my name is Keys. Damn, you sure look pretty, Miz Palmer.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
Palmer licked her lips, feeling like a teenager with her first crush. Heck, he was her first crush. “You’re here.” Gah, she slapped her forehead. “Of course, you are. I mean, lawd, I’m making a fool of myself. Hang on, let me remove my foot from my mouth and start over.” She smiled, feeling as though the first ray of sunshine in a shitstorm had finally appeared.
“Are you really gonna make your kid eat this?” He held up a container of baby food, his face showing his disgust.
She reached for it, their fingers brushing. Her breath froze at the electric feel of touching him for the first time in what seemed a lifetime. For her it had been. To cover up for her wildly racing heart, she looked down at the label. “It says right here it’s made of all natural organic.”
He snatched it back. “All natural my ass. No kid wants kale. Trust me. I live in California and they pass this shit off at every restaurant. The only ones who actually buy it are the model types and Hollywood stars. I bet even those fuckers go into the bathroom and puke that shit up. Ain’t that right, kid?”
Palmer’s mind whirled at the first up-close and personal view of the sweet young man who’d left such a hole in her heart. Silas DeMarcus had been a gorgeous teenager. The man standing before her was nothing like the kid who’d left. Yes, he was every bit as handsome, only the man was so much more now. He was bigger, taller, and even better looking in a dangerous way that would turn any woman’s head. If she were a betting woman, she’d wager even straight men turned to watch him walk by. Case in point, the entire store seemed to be finding a reason to walk by or down the aisle where they were.
She’d thought about him so many times over the years, wondered what happened to him. Never had she imagined him looking the way he stood before her.
Keys hand moved, lifting her chin up. “Didn’t your granddaddy teach you it wasn’t polite to stare at men like that, sunshine?”
The nickname caught her off guard. Only he’d ever called her that and it had only been a handful of times. She opened her mouth to refute his words when a little cry from behind her brought her out of the stupor Silas’s presence caused. “Dang it, you make me lose all sense of who, what, and where I am, Silas DeMarcus,” she muttered, turning toward her son.
If there was one thing, she’d learned from her mistakes it was that men were fickle beasts who weren’t to be trusted.
“Hey there, little man. You getting hungry? Do you think you’d like kale?” she asked, unstrapping him from the stroller before his little cry could turn into a full out wail.
“He looks just like you, Palmer. Right down to your cornflower blue eyes. Or did his father also have those color eyes?”
She lifted her son up to her shoulder, bouncing him up and down. Goodness, nobody told her a teething baby would be so hard. She wondered if the Bed and Breakfast she had moved into would kick them out if he was too fussy. “No, my...his father had brown eyes.”
The thought of her sweet boy having anything that resembled the late Thomas Kincaid made her stomach cramp. Her child was the only thing good from her marriage.
“What are you shopping for besides baby food?” Keys eyed the shelves, then turned his dark stare back to her.
“Um, some milk and chips. I’m buying shit snacks, sue me.” She glared at the woman staring at them as she passed.
Silas raised a brow. “A woman after my own heart. How bout I push your stroller while you hold Hoss there?”
She laughed at the nicknames. Her son was no little nugget by anyone’s imagination. At his last doctor’s appointment, he’d been in the ninety percentiles in both height and weight. That was one thing he did get from the Kincaid’s or maybe the Coker’s since her side did tend to have tall men. As for her, she’d only ever been called her given name.
“Thank you.” She selected a couple different things for Jaxson to try. He’d been eating baby food for several months, but she didn’t have the ones that had been specially made and delivered just for him with her. The fact his...father, goodness, she couldn’t even think about Thomas Kincaid in regard to Jaxson without pain. He was a monster, a dictator in every aspect even what their son was allowed to eat when he wasn’t nursing. Thomas had told her a company that specialized in all organic baby food would be delivering his food weekly to their home. At first, she’d feared he was going to hurt her son, but then she’d researched the business and found they were legitimate she was fine with them. For all the bastard’s faults, he was actually doing something good, or as she’d found, he wanted to control one aspect of her life with Jaxson.
“You have a very pensive look, sassy girl.” His hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
Palmer swallowed; nervous he’d see through her tough girl veneer. “What? We’re in the middle of the local food market chatting. I’m a new widow talking with a gorgeous stranger. Imagine what the old biddies are gonna say at the sewing circle this Thursday.”
