All I Want for Christmas: A Kinnison Legacy Holiday novella Page 11
Dalton shrugged as though the topic alone was hard to handle. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. I mean what if this broad has some crazy vendetta, you know? I have no idea what kind of picture Eloise painted of me and Wyatt.”
“Broad? You do realize you’re talking about your half-sister, right? What are you saying… like she’s going after you with a chainsaw in the middle of the night or something?” Rein laughed.
Dalton raised a brow.
“You’ve watched too many of those damn crime shows.” He put his cup down and stretched out the kink in his back from sleeping on the cot. “I guess we’ll find out a few days.”
Dalton didn’t respond and Rein felt compelled to convince him he was out of line with this. “From what Wyatt told us about her, it doesn’t appear she’s the serial killer type.”
“That’s just it. All he knows is what she told him. How do we know if any of it is true? How can we be certain of anyone’s background that chooses to come here? That’s my chief concern.”
He considered Dalton’s comments. “You make a valid point and like Wyatt said, that is something we’re going to have to address when we begin drawing up the rental agreements. But really, there is a multitude of ways to do a background check on someone if a person wanted to.”
Dalton shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. I should do one on this Liberty chick. Good idea, bro.” He reached over and slapped Rein on the shoulder.
He hated to feed into Dalton’s obvious displeasure with Wyatt’s decision to allow Liberty to come in and live off them until who knows when. But if there was one thing Rein despised more than anything, it was a freeloader and if little Miss Liberty thought for one minute that she was going to stay here, eat their food and use their services for free, she was in for a serious wakeup call.
Curious now, Rein rinsed out his cup and pulled on his work gloves. “Let me know what you find out. Meantime, let’s head over and pick up that furniture before that storm blows in.”
Dalton finished his cup and frowned as he followed him out the door. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the sun is brilliant and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
Rein fished the keys to his truck out of his pocket and eyed the sky above. “Yeah, but I heard an owl outside the cabin last night.”
Dalton rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Jeez, you and Wyatt and that damn American Indian mumbo-jumbo.”
Rein just tossed him a smile.
***
She checked her watch. Ticket in hand, Liberty waited on the scarred wood bench at the seedy bus station in the worst possible area of town. The clerk, safe behind her bulletproof glass and steel barred office looked out with a sullen face at the handful of passengers who waited for the nine-thirty bus. She looked again at the schedule, with a couple of transfers in Utah and Montana; she should arrive in Billings by midnight Friday. She’d packed in haste and brought only what she could carry in her oversized duffle. The rest she carried in a book bag and a small purse that she wore across the front of her body. The remainder of her last two paychecks she had stashed in her boot. She glanced at the couple beside her, newlyweds, she guessed from the lip-lock and their Vegas standard issue matching gold bands. Her gaze darted to the man across the aisle. He sat quietly watching the couple, holding his briefcase close to his side. His expression was dour, disapproving of their public affection. He caught Liberty’s curious look and pulled his attaché’ closer to his side. Her choices severely limited, she shifted in her seat to look at the black retro wall clock and double-check the time. The soft whispers between the lovers reminded her of the mistake she’d almost made less than a year ago, just after her mother died.
***
“I suppose you’ll be expecting to move back home now that your mother’s gone.” She’d ridden, not by choice, but by request, by her father in the funeral homes limousine. Funerals were as much a public appearance for her father as any other he showed up for in Vegas. Nothing was left to chance. Appearances meant everything to her father, they always had. Today he was extending his benevolent hand to her… in his own controlling way. Just as she’d seen him manipulate her mother the last years of her life. Liberty knew his game. She’d observed it all her life and only as she’d gotten older had she come to resent and rebel against it.
“Did your housemaid quit again?” she tossed at him, watching row after row of headstones pass by as they left the burial plot.
“Now see there. That’s what I’m talking about. I try to extend the olive branch, Liberty Belle and you slap it out of my hand. The problem with you is that you never learned to appreciate everything I gave you.”
She responded with a snorting laugh. “You mean, I didn’t bow down and kiss your ass every time you decided to remember you had a family?”
His hand shot up, stopping short of smacking her across the face. She held his hard gaze with one of her own. She saw the hate glittering in his black, soulless eyes. She’s found out from her mother, only in the few years prior to her death, that she carried a guilt inside her, that she hadn’t been strong enough to leave him. Liberty had heard the sounds from beyond closed doors, the sound of him hitting her mother, her tearful pleas to stop. And she ran, as far from the house as she could. She’d been terrified to speak about it to anyone, fearful of what he might to do to her mother. “You touch me and I swear you’ll be in the headlines of every paper in town.” She kept her voice calm.
He eyed her a moment, chuckled and then lowered his hand, straightening his Armani tie. “Just like your mother.”
“Fortunately, she taught me more than you think, because I don’t need you and I don’t need your money.”
He made a sound like he was cleaning his teeth with his tongue. He looked straight ahead. “You’ll feel differently when you see how much tuition to that school of yours. Unfortunately, your mother, God-rest-her-soul, nullified her largely inadequate life insurance policy by virtue of how she chose to depart this world.”
She leaned forward and tapped on the smoke-glass window shielding them from the driver. The window rolled down. “Pull over here and stop.”
He looked over his shoulder, his expression hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses. She caught though the quirk at the corner of his mouth. He probably thought she was certifiable, which was entirely possible. What made her think that she’d see any sorrow, any loss from this sorry excuse she called her father. “I said pull the goddam car over.”
“Liberty, you can’t just stop the procession. There are well over a hundred cars following us.”
She wrenched open the door and the car jerked to a stop. She stepped out and looked back at the long line of vehicles, predominately business people who bottom fed from her father’s Vegas club enterprises. “I have all I need from you. You may have given me life, but you’ve never been a father.”
He scooted across the seat; his dark, hateful gaze penetrated her heart. “You get back in the car, this instant you ungrateful—”
Liberty didn’t wait for the rest. She slammed the door in his face. A small victory in the memory of her mother against the man who’d pushed her into an early grave. The window rolled down part way as the car lurched forward. “You’ll regret this Liberty. You could have had anything you wanted.”
“At what price?” she called out to the car as it rolled away. She didn’t care if anyone heard her. They all knew how he really was. Most of them lived in fear of his power. Overhead the ominous rain clouds broke free with a single clap of thunder. She turned her face to the skies, letting the rain wash over her face. Pain, fear and an unfathomable loss, pierced her to the core. Tear afresh were lost in the torrents. She opened her arms wide and spoke to the sky. “We’re free, momma. We’re finally free.” A few weeks later, she’d enrolled at the University, taking full responsibility for her loans
It didn’t take her long to realize that the part-time waitress position wasn’t going to be enough to make ends meet. And like an answer to her silent
prayers, she met the devil in the form of exotic Angelo Patreous. He and his friends often stopped in late at night after some of the clubs on the strip had closed. He was a proverbial god, tall, dark and charming, compared to the bleary-eyed drunks that frequented the diner. He was a man of wealth; anyone could see by his designer suits. She discovered that he owned several new clubs in the area and much to Liberty’s delight, had no connections with her father—at least, not yet.
“You are a very lovely woman.” He’d told her showing off his white even smile. She accepted his flirtatious praise and his generous tips for the expert way she’d serve his pancakes. One thing led to another and she found herself invited to one of his clubs, where he introduced her to his dancers. A few weeks later, she found herself headlining and earning enough to pay off what loans she’d accumulated, rent a nice apartment and convince herself that college was a waste of time as long as she could dance.
“Do you have change for a dollar?”
The fresh-faced new bride pulled Liberty from her reverie. “Oh, sorry. No. Maybe the attendant can help you?”
“Sure, thanks.” Her lover could barely let go of her as she struggled to stand.
Liberty readjusted her things, aware that the movement from the young woman had once more stirred the putrid air filtered in from unclean bathrooms. The arrogant looking dark haired lady behind her shifted, sending a sickening waft of heavy perfume around her. She spied a streetlight outside the murky windowpane and considered stepping outside to wait, then realized that she was safer inside, rather than taking her chances with the transients waiting to board without a ticket.
She watched the giggling young woman return to her amorous husband, who wasted no time slipping into the men’s bathroom, only to return a few moments later with a handful of bright green condom packets. She looked away. Their reckless behavior reminded her too much of how she and Angelo once were, before she discovered his expensive cocaine habit and how he skimmed off the girls paychecks to feed his habit. He wasn’t going to be happy when he found out that she’d snuck into his office and taken back the twenty percent cut that was rightfully hers. If she could get to this remote ranch, she’d have enough time to figure out what to do next. She drew her jacket closer together and folded her arms over her chest as she looked around her. A low rumble echoed in the deserted streets and she held her breath until the bus turned the corner. She released a sigh with the sound of its air brakes as it pulled into the garage. The sooner she put some distance between her and this town, the better off she’d be.
“May I get this for you?” The dark-eyed man stood when she did.
Liberty grabbed her duffle and swung it over her shoulder with the practiced ease of a combat soldier. Strength and agility were the rewards of her profession. “Thank you, no. I’ve got it.” She walked head high to the bus, and tossed it into the luggage compartment without the driver’s assistance.
“One bag, ma’am?” he queried and held out his hand for her ticket and I.D. She produced the information and waited as he eyed her and then the license. “That was taken six years ago.”
“Don’t forget to renew before your birthday.” He smiled and handed it back to her. “Welcome aboard. Your first transfer will be in Salt Lake at our six-fifty a.m. stop.”
She nodded her thanks, climbed onto the bus, and searched for an empty set of seats. She found one toward the back of the bus, away from the congested seats up front and placed her bag on the seat beside her to dissuade another from taking a seat. The dark-eyed man caught her eye, and she was grateful when he took a seat next to the perfume-laden woman. The amorous couple, on the other hand, giggled and pawed at each other all the way to the back of the bus.
It was sure to be an interesting next few hours.
She pulled out her iPod, put in her earplugs, and scanned through her music until she found Hearts Greatest Hits to relax her.
What seemed hours later, she was startled awake by an odd sound. Her earpiece had fallen out of her ear, and her skin was cool where she’d been sleeping with her forehead pressed against the window. For a moment, she sat in disoriented fear, until her brain caught up to the fact that she was running away. Liberty glanced at her watch and saw it was almost two in the morning. She craned her neck toward the front and saw most everyone was asleep. Which left the odd sounds coming from behind associated to the newlyweds, unable to wait; it appeared until they reached the hotel.
“Aw, honey, that’s it,” a male voice cooed. There was a feminine hiss, followed by a soft groan.
She didn’t need to look back to know anymore. Liberty shook her head at their audacity. Then again, maybe she was jealous. At least they had each other to share taking such a bold risk. Still, with any luck, they’d be getting off at the first stop. A quiet male groan caused her to chuckle.
Or maybe sooner.
She popped the earplug in to stifle the sounds of their lovemaking and checked her phone for text messages. There were two missed calls both from Elaina, a friend of hers from work. She quickly punched in a text in return. “Are you home and is everything okay? Has Angelo said anything to you?”
A few moments passed before she received a text in response. “He did, but since you refused to say where you were going, it wasn’t long before he gave up. Be careful, Libby. If cell phones can be traced, he’ll know who to pay to make it happen.”
A few hours later when they pulled into Salt Lake, Liberty had deleted all numbers, messages and calls received and dropped her phone in an empty coffee cup and replaced the plastic lid before discarding it in the trash outside the restaurant. She climbed on her transfer bus, glad that the couple as well as the dark-eyed man who gave her the creeps stayed on the other bus, bound for points further east. She was grateful for the room in the near empty bus. She leaned her head against the window and watched the limitless blue sky give way to a dusty twilight, and finally a black velvet sky sprinkled liberally with stars. There were few times she could count that she’d seen the sky awash with stars, the garish lights of Vegas had always blocked them from view. Her eyes drifted shut and the gentle rocking motion of the bus lulled her to sleep.
About the Author
Amanda McIntyre’s passion is telling character-driven stories with a penchant for placing ordinary people placed in extraordinary situations. A bestselling author, she lives in the heartland and enjoys the open spaces and small-town life that inspires her work. Her books are published internationally in print, e-Book, and in audio. She writes steamy contemporary and sizzling historical romance and believes no matter what, love will find a way.
Catch all the latest from Amanda at:
WEBSITE: http://www.amandamcintyresbooks.com/
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AUTHORGRAPH: https://www.authorgraph.com/authors/AmandaMcIntyre1
Published Books:
Contemporary Romance:
All I Want for Christmas (Kinnison Legacy novella-September. 2016)
Going Home (Sapphire Falls-Kindle World novella-October 2016)
Thunderstruck (Hell Yeah! Kindle World novella-November 2016)
The Way You Look Tonight (RT Vegas anthology, Vol. 3)
No Strings Attached, Book I (Last Hope Ranch)
Rugged Hearts, Book I (Kinnison Legacy)
Rustler’s Heart, Book II (Kinnison Legacy
Renegade Hearts, Book III (Kinnison Legacy)
Stranger in Paradise
Tides of Autumn
Unfinished Dreams
Wish You Were Here
Private Party
Mirror, Mirror
Historical/Erotic Romance:
A Warrior’s Heart (western historical) (October 2016)
The Promise (December 2016)
The Dark Seduction of Miss Jane (erotic thriller)
The Master & the Muses
*
The Diary of Cozette *
Tortured *
The Pleasure Garden *
Winter’s Desire *
Dark Pleasures *
Para/Fantasy:
Tirnan ‘Oge
*Starred are available also in audio and internationally
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, place, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All I Want for Christmas
Copyright 2016 by Amanda McIntyre
Edited by Kristina Cook
Cover design by Original Syn
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Amanda McIntyre
http://www.amandamcintyresbooks.com
Printed in the United States of America