Buried Secrets (New Adult Dark Suspense Romance) (13 page)

Jake leaned forward, running a hand over his shiny head again, eyes softening along with his voice. “Dusty, I really am sorry…”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”

“I really wish…” Jake’s voice trailed off and when she raised her eyebrows at him in inquiry, his mouth snapped shut. He didn’t finish the sentence, but she noticed he glanced toward the door.

“What?” Dusty prompted.

“I just…” Jake shrugged. “I wish he’d been with us that night. Here, I mean.”

“Wasn’t he?” She cocked her head at him.

“No.” He shook his head, eyes meeting hers. They were big and brown and filled with so much sadness she could have drowned in it. “If he had, I’m pretty sure he’d still be alive.”

Dusty glanced at the door where more people filed in. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work. What can I get you, Jake?”

“Strohs,” he told her. “And a shot of Jack.”

“Coming up.” Dusty turned away and headed toward the bar where she gave Lee the order.

“Gimme a minute.” He was just opening the breather cap on the keg. Dusty leaned against the side of the bar, waiting.

“You okay?” Lee glanced at her, frowning, and then swore as foam came out of the spout. The second was better. Dusty didn’t answer him for a minute. The guy on the barstool next to her was peering at the front of her blouse, his gaze slipping below the line of her skirt, then up again.

“Can I ask you something?” Dusty put the drinks on her tray as he set them on the bar.

“Sure.” Lee raised an eyebrow at her.

“The night… Nick died…” She still hated saying it out loud. She hadn’t mentioned Nick to Lee or vice versa since the day she’d applied for the job. “Was he in here that night? Do you remember?”

“No.” Lee shook his head sadly. “Cops asked me that too. I don’t know what he was doing out at the cemetery that night, Dusty. Wish I could help you.”

Was her motivation so obvious? Did everyone know what she was doing, hanging around The Starlite, asking questions? No one talked about it, at least to her face, but she had a feeling they all knew.

She put Jake’s drinks on his table and waited for him to dig through his pockets for cash. Out of habit, her eyes turned toward the door and she saw Shane standing there. If she’d been carrying more than an empty tray, she might have just dropped it. That’s how surprised she was to see him. He was flanked on either side by Nate and Cody. She hadn’t seen Cody since the funeral either.

And she hadn’t seen Shane since Nellie’s.

Jake was talking to her but she didn’t hear him. Shane’s presence in the doorway drew her attention like a magnet. He smiled, waving and calling out to Lee at the bar. Lee tipped a wave back. Shane hadn’t seen her yet but his gaze scanned the room, from one corner to the other, and she found herself paralyzed, frozen in place, just waiting for his eyes to fall on her. He probably wouldn’t even see her back here in the corner. The bar was dim and crowded.

But he did.

She felt him notice her, felt it seeping through her, a sweetness, like warm honey moving through her veins. Jake snapped his fingers, trying to get her attention, and she glanced down, taking the five dollar bill from his hand. She stared at the money and couldn’t think to make change in her head. Couldn’t even remember what he’d ordered or how much it cost. Instead, she put the five back down on the table along with her empty tray, mumbling something about the drinks being on her.

Shane’s gaze stopped the moment he saw her. He smirked and then winked as he weaved his way through the crowd. He wasn’t heading toward her though—he went to the back of the bar, to the pool tables. Dusty made her way toward him because, she told herself, that was her job, after all. She was the waitress and when new people came into the bar, she was supposed to go up and take their order.

That was all.

It didn’t have anything to do with the fact she’d thought about him every day since Nellie’s, about the way he’d wiped ketchup off her face and told her she was the prettiest thing he’d seen that day. No, because that wouldn’t be true. All of those thoughts had been neatly compartmentalized every time they’d come up, trimmed as quickly as she could get to them with her mind-scissors.

She had even convinced herself, in the three whole days she’d been working at the Starlite, three whole days she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Shane, that she wasn’t disappointed by his absence. She told herself she’d taken the Starlite job because she needed to pay rent. It didn’t have anything to do with a casual bet made with a certain sandy-haired bad-boy.

“Hey, what can I get you guys?” Dusty asked, pen poised over her note pad.

“Well if it isn’t Busty Dusty.” Cody grinned and she rolled her eyes when he brought up the nickname they’d given her in junior high. “Damn girl, you fill out that uniform
nice!”

“Keep your boys under control.” She gave Shane a cool look.

“Hey, you’re a married man now.” Shane nudged Cody in the ribs. “You’re not supposed to notice how hot she looks in that uniform.”

“Have to be dead not to notice.” Jake spoke up from behind her and Dusty turned to face him. He grinned, taking a swig of his beer.

“Cody!” Dusty was too surprised by Shane’s comment to dress any of them down. “When did you get married? And why wasn’t I invited?”

“July.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Happened kind of quick. Teri’s daddy insisted. With a double-barrel shotgun. Here’s my boy—Joshua. He’s almost two months old now.”

She took the photo from him, creased in the corner. It was a newborn photo, a red-faced, wrinkly browed baby with Cody’s green eyes and blonde hair. It was like white peach fuzz on the top of his little head.

“He’s so sweet.” She handed it back. “I didn’t even know Teri was pregnant.”

If her math was correct, Teri would have had to been seven months pregnant when they graduated.

“She sort of hid it,” Nate interjected as Jake went around to the other side of the table to pull out a chair.

“Wasn’t hard, really.” Cody grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “She always was kind of a big girl. Busty.”

“Hey, Jake.” Shane nodded at the big, bald guy before he could sit down. “Table’s free. Wanna rack ’em?”

“Rack?” Cody perked up, still grinning and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Get me another beer, Dusty?” Jake tipped the bottle toward her as he made his way back around the pool table.

“Sure.” She had almost forgotten she was working. “What do you all want?”

She took their orders as Jake racked pool balls and Cody plucked a cue stick off the wall. Shane didn’t move from his chair, his gaze never leaving her. She felt it, even when she turned to ask Nate what he wanted to drink. He bent over the table, his long hair making a dark curtain as he aimed.

“What do
you
want?” She turned to ask Shane, lifting her eyes up to meet his when he didn’t answer. He was looking at her so strangely, like he couldn’t quite believe she was real.

“Beer?” she prompted.

He shook his head slowly, crooking his finger, urging her closer. Dusty’s knees started to feel weak and tingly, the way he was looking at her. His eyes were dark, like a lake before a storm and they grew darker as she approached. She stopped a foot from him, waiting.

“What?” she asked when he still didn’t say anything.

He tilted his head, asking softly, “When did you start working here?”

“Couple days ago. Friday.”

“Sit down.” He nodded toward one of the chairs.

“I’m working,” she replied, glancing over at the bar. Lee was busy, so instead of taking a seat in one of the chairs, she turned and slid up onto the table. Cody gave a low whistle when she crossed her legs, her hemline riding dangerously high. “Where've you been?”

It came out more accusatory than she wanted it to.

“Why, you been looking for me?” Shane raised his eyebrows, glancing over at the three stooges, all of them just standing there, cue sticks in hand, watching like they’d just seen someone walk on water or something.

“Maybe.” Her tone was softer now. There was no point in lying. She knew he would see it in her eyes. But he wasn’t looking at her eyes. He was looking at her legs. “So where were you?”

He crooked his finger again, making her lean down, the V of her blouse widening as she did. She saw the way his gaze moved down her neck to her chest as she got closer, close enough for him to press his mouth to her ear and whisper, “Hunting.”

Dusty sat up, her breath catching in her throat. When it returned, it was too shallow, her heart thudding hard in her chest.

“Seems like you haven’t stopped.”

He smiled. “I never do.”

“What were you hunting? It’s not deer season.”

“It’s not Dusty season either.” He winked. “And since when have I paid attention to the rules?”

“Since never.” She laughed, sliding off the table. “I have to get back to work. What do you want?”

He moved so fast she barely saw him, and then she was in his lap, grabbing him around the neck to keep from falling, but he had her, arms wrapped tight at her waist.

“Shane!” she gasped, protesting, glancing at the guys, watching them from the pool table, and then over to the bar, where she saw both Sam and Lee with their eyes on them.

“What?” He smiled, turning his face up to look at her in the dim light. “You asked what I wanted.”

“So… what do you want?” She blinked at him, feeling the way his hands gripped her hips, how he settled her there on his lap, shifting her weight, making her body flush with heat.

“For a smart girl, you can be really stupid sometimes.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Shane Curtis, you’re bad,” she murmured. “You’re going to get me fired.”

“No,
you’re
bad.” His arms tightened around her, hands sliding over her short, short skirt. “You’ve come over to the dark side. And I think I like it.”

His eyes brightened when she stuck her tongue out at him, twisting in his arms and finally getting off his lap. He let her go, laughing.

“You owe me twenty bucks, by the way,” she reminded him, turning to go back to the bar and give Lee the order. She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder, giving him a half-smile. “How many beaver pelts is that?”

“Come back and play me for it.” He grinned, nodding toward the pool table. “Double or nothing.”

“I’m working,” she reminded him with a waggle of her fingers.

“Strohs!” he called.

She felt his eyes on her, watching the swing of her hips all the way to the bar.

✝
Chapter Eleve
n
✝

“You're coming.” Shane stood in front of her so she couldn’t get past him.

“I have to work.” Dusty swerved around him with a tray full of beer but he followed her. “You’re the one who wanted me to apply for this job, remember?”

She grin
ned over her shoulder at him as she put the beer on the table, watching four high school guys, probably just old enough to drive, dig in their pockets for cash.

Shane leaned close, whispering into her ear, “Don’t make me carry you out of here.”

“Caveman style?” she teased, taking the cash and counting it before putting it into her pocket.

“I’ll do what I have to.” Shane followed her back to the bar.

“Lee won't give me the night off on this short notice,” she protested, leaning on the bar, seeing Sam mopping in front of the bathrooms, his eyes dark and watchful.

“Sure I will.” Lee winked in her direction. “Turn in your profits and get out of here. You deserve some fun.”

“Hear that?” Shane grinned in triumph. “Let’s go.”

“But…” She bit her lip, trying to think of another excuse. He’d asked her several times to come out to the path with them. So had the rest of the guys, at various times over the past few weeks. She didn’t know why she hesitated. They’d all been having a good time, playing pool and talking, flirting and laughing, Shane occasionally pulling her into his lap again, whispering things into her ear that made her so dizzy it was hard to walk straight.

That was it, really. She was having a good time—a great time—with all of Nick’s friends. And Nick was dead.

“Stop punishing yourself.” Shane lowered his head to murmur the words into her ear. She shook her head, wanting to deny it, and then his voice dropped to a bare whisper, “Stop punishing me.”

She looked up, meeting Shane's eyes. Every time she looked at him, she saw Nick's face, heard Nick's voice, and the memories were sharp and clearer than ever. Her mind-scissors didn’t work well around Shane. Was she punishing him? And if she was, well… didn’t he deserve it?

That’s what she’d always told herself.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

“He loved you, Dusty.” Shane reached out, tucking a stray piece of her hair that escaped from her ponytail, behind her ear.

She smiled sadly. “But he loved you more.”

“Why do you say that?” Shane cocked his head, frowning.

“Because he always put you first.” Dusty bit her lip, sliding her empty tray up onto the bar. “You were his best friend.”

“He just wanted to protect you.” Shane’s voice was soft and he moved closer, so they were touching. She could feel his body heat.

She gave a little laugh. “From what?”

His hand moved through her hair and he lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. They were full of tears.

“Everything, I guess.” His thumb wiped at one of the tears making its way down her cheek. “That’s what I would want to do, if I was your brother.”

“Protect me from everything?”

He nodded, the emotion in his eyes making her whole body soften as she looked at him.

“But you’re not my brother.”

“No.” Shane shook his head, leaning in closer, eyes searching hers. “Thank God for that.”

Her gaze skipped down to his mouth, feeling that urge to kiss him, resisting it, knowing Lee was watching, and so was Sam. She didn’t want it to happen here, in front of them—but she did want it to happen. Yes, she did.

“Let me get my coat.”

“Meet me outside.” Shane smiled, eyes brightening.

She watched him walk out the door and then turned in her profits.

“You have a good time, young lady,” Lee ordered.

Dusty smiled at him, shrugging on her coat.

“Wuh-where are you guh-going?” Sam turned her to face him and she gasped when he grasped her wrist, hard.

“Sam! Ow! I’m just going… on a date.” It was a date. Yes, they were going out to the path, and the rest of the gang would be there, but it was a date. With Shane. She had to admit it.

And the thought gave her more than a little thrill.

“Suh-sorry.” Sam’s hold loosened when he saw the look on her face.

She rubbed her wrist, frowning, glancing over at Lee, who gave her a knowing look. He’d warned her Sam had a crush on her.

“Huh-he's dangerous.” Sam’s brow furrowed. His eyes were veiled, as usual. Anger was the one emotion that always came through loud and clear, though, and he was angry. There was something else in his eyes—something deeper. “Uh-are you sh-sh-
sure
you're going to be uh-okay?”

“Don't worry about me, Sam.” Dusty said it as much for herself as she did for him, a reassurance. Sam was right—Shane was dangerous. But not in the ways she once believed he was.

What
am I doing? What am I getting myself into?

“I can take care of myself.” She touched Sam's hand briefly before she turned to go. She waved to Lee from the doorway and tried not to pay attention to the angry way Sam thrust the mop into the bucket, sloshing water all over the bar floor.

“Sorry, but I have to pick up the rest of the beer.” Shane pulled the Mustang up in front of his house and shut the engine off. He pocketed the keys and looked over at her. “You can stay in the car if you want. I won't be long.”

Dusty looked at the house in the fading sunlight. The small one-story drooped. Two shutters hung askew, leaving bare wood showing. The white paint was faded gray and the corner of one window had been replaced with a piece of cardboard.

“No.” She opened the car door. “I'll go with you.”

He put his arm casually across her shoulders as they approached the house, a gesture that made her both nervous and excited.

“My dad's home,” he warned, opening the front door and leading her inside.

Dusty inspected the small living room with its dingy green carpet and turquoise colored walls. A man snored loudly in a reclining chair while a rerun of
Cops
radiated from an old television set equipped with a set of coat hanger antennae. The man, wearing boxer shorts, had a beer resting on one arm of the chair and a cigarette dangling precariously between the first two fingers of his left hand.

“My dad.” Shane steered her toward the kitchen, connected to the living room by an archway. Dusty glanced over her shoulder at Shane's father, trying to see the resemblance. He had a pot belly hanging over the top of his shorts and his dirty blonde hair did indeed look very dirty. He had a fuzzy beard growing.

“He's kind of a permanent fixture there.” Shane took two six-packs out of the fridge. He pulled one off the plastic holder and popped the tab. “I just kind of ignore him.”

“Does he work?” Dusty shook her head when Shane offered her some of his beer.

“On and off. Mostly off. I bring in money for this place working at Vikings.” Both he and Jake worked at the auto parts store over in Millsberg. “But he doesn't do much of anything except seasonal work. He mostly collects disability.”

Shane took another drink of beer. Dusty looked back into the living room. He was a big bear of a man.

“Hey.” Shane got her attention by tugging on the sleeve of her coat. “Don’t look like that.”

She glanced at him. “Like what?”

“Like you’re feeling sorry for me.” He took a long drink of his beer.

“No I’m just…” Dusty shook her head, letting her thought trail off. She couldn’t have told him what she was thinking and feeling if she tried. Everything she’d once believed about Shane Curtis had been crumbling around her for months and she felt as if she was now looking at the pile of rubble.

“What?” Shane put his now empty beer on the kitchen table, pulling her closer and she let him.

“Putting all the pieces together,” she said, lifting her face to look at him. She could smell the beer on his breath and longed to taste it on his lips, but the look on his face kept her from bridging the gap between them.

He nodded, face grim. “I know they don’t make a very pretty picture.”

“Just… different than I thought.” She touched his cheek, the stubble there rough against her fingers. “You ready?”

Shane grinned, back to his old self. “I was born ready.”

When they got back to the car, Dusty reached for her seat belt—it had been such a short ride from the Starlite to Shane’s she hadn’t remembered—and found there wasn’t one.

“Where are your seat belts?”

Shane laughed, flipping on the radio.

“What's so funny?” Dusty demanded.

“You.” He looked at her and shook his head, still laughing.

The path never failed to amaze Dusty, although she’d been there dozens of times. It was so isolated, so completely theirs. The circular area had been leveled years ago—no one could remember why anymore—leaving only one natural pathway in and out.

Shane guided the Mustang between the long path of trees. The car fit easily, but Dusty had seen trucks come down with only a foot of room on each side—and if two cars were coming through at the same time, one had to back up, which was always nerve-wracking. There was only one entrance and exit to the path, the same way in and out.

She sat up straight as Shane drove the Mustang into the clearing, looking through the windshield for the gang. The circular stretch of land was littered with cars parked haphazardly around a large bonfire burning brightly in the center. The circle was surrounded thickly by pine trees, the bare, unbranched part of their trunks taller than she was, giving the whole area a strong scent of pine.

“We're here!” Shane called out his open window as he pulled up next to Cody. Nate’s Mercury and Cody’s minivan made an unfinished semi-circle around an already burning bonfire and Shane completed it. A bunch of six-packs sat on the roof of the Mercury behind Cody and Nate, who were throwing bottle caps into the fire.

“Party time.” Shane picked up one of the six-packs from the floor, smiling over at her. Dusty picked up the other one, returning his smile.

“Here.” Shane tossed the keys over the hood of the Mustang. “Flip on the radio.” Dusty missed the keys, but Jake, standing behind her, caught them with one hand.

“Gotta be quick.” Jake grinned, his bald head reflecting the orange glow of the bonfire. “Here, I'll trade you.”

She handed him the beer and he gave her the keys. Dusty crawled back into the car and put the key into the ignition, flipping on the radio. WCSC was the only rock station Larkspur picked up—although they had four country stations. Creedence sang about a bad moon rising and she left it.

Dusty leaned on the Mustang's door, looking around. It was Sunday—still the weekend—and it was busy. Kids from Millsberg used it too, so there was almost always someone out at the path. It felt for a moment like a clock had been turned back and they were in high school again.

She spotted Suzanne sitting in the back of Cody’s minivan. He had it backed up to the fire, the hatch open, blankets and pillows piled up inside. Ryan sat beside Suzanne in the back of the van. The two of them were laughing about something.

“Hey, Dusty!” Suzanne smiled at her and waved, calling her over.

Dusty waved back, giving her a brief smile, suddenly regretting her impulsive acceptance of Shane’s invitation. Chatting and mingling and having a good time were the last things she wanted to be doing. Being out in the world since Nick’s death still felt strange. Routine kept her sane, and being anywhere besides home, the cemetery, and the Starlite made her feel the weight of her grief beyond words.