Straight to the Heart. Samantha Hunter
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know,” the guy huffed out. “We—we were hired anonymously, through contacts, you know? They gave us a picture, a location, said make it look like an accident. That’s all I know.”
Ben was inclined to believe him. The thug was young and had cracked too quickly under pressure.
“You need to find a better line of work, kid, before you end up dying young,” Ben said. “Get your buddy, leave, don’t come back, or you won’t get a second chance. Got it? You can pass that on to whoever hired you, too.”
Ben released his grip and slid backwards quickly in a move he knew would make it seem as if he had melted into the dark.
Ignoring the road, he took a long diagonal across the scrub desert back toward his house.
When he heard the car start behind him in the distance, the engine noise roaring off in the opposite direction, he relaxed and finished the walk, suddenly aware of his scraped, abraded skin.
Finally reaching his house, he walked in the back door and closed it, gulped a couple of glasses of water and took in the scrapes and bruises he’d acquired. Nothing too serious, though he had some of the other guy’s blood on his favorite running shirt. Must have hit him harder than he thought.
As he headed to the shower, he was stopped by a knock on the door, and he paused. Music was now blasting from the roadhouse, and he wondered if the two men in the desert had followed him. Sometimes customers, having drunk too much, wandered back to his house, thinking they could use the bathroom or whatever, and he had to send them back to the bar. Peering through the curtain at the edge of the room, he was surprised to see it was Joanna, his tension dissolving.
When he opened the door, she opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, her eyes widening as she took him in.
“What happened to you?”
“Went for a run in the desert, took a misstep. What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside so that she could come in.
“I was just going to ask if you minded me adding on another shift. Charlie and Lisa can barely keep up in there, and he called me down, but I thought I should check with you first,” she said, still taking in his appearance.
Tight black jeans and a black T-shirt hugged her shape, and he took in every inch, almost forgetting the events of the past hour. The silver and turquoise earrings she wore gave her an earthy, exotic look that made him want to pull her in and close the door, but instead he nodded.
“Yeah, definitely. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be over to help as well. Usually three is enough for Thursdays, but I should have figured it would be busier with these guys playing,” he said.
“Great, thanks,” she said simply and turned, walking back to the roadhouse.
Once he closed the door again, what had happened out on his run came back with a vengeance.
The danger was real. If they knew about him, they probably knew about his parents, who lived just down the road, and his friends. Lisa and her kids—anyone who mattered. The realization only drove home for him how important it was for him to stay close. If he reported this to the marshals, they’d take him into custody, and leave his parents, Charlie, Lisa out here, alone. So he’d keep it to himself.
His next thought was of Joanna. This was not a good time to get into any kind of relationship—not that sleeping with her meant that they were in a relationship, per se. Still, anyone close to him was in danger, and that wasn’t fair to her. Not after what she’d just been through with the jerk that she’d left behind.
Ben would make sure no harm came to her either way, whether from outside, or due to his interest in her. He had the marshal’s number, but for now, he’d continue to take care of the situation himself.
He stepped out of the shower, wincing at a particularly sore scrape on his upper thigh. Bandaging it, he pulled on jeans and a black button-up, heading over to the bar. The deep bass beat of a popular country-rock tune vibrated through the ground as he walked from one door to the other, and he couldn’t help but look forward to seeing Joanna again, no matter what was going to happen—or not—between them.
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