Code Red

To Sophia and Vivienne.

Thanks for the enthusiasm, the
character names, the mugs of coffee, the edits, more mugs of
coffee, and the love. You guys are the best support team a writer
could have.

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons,
living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not
have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author
or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

CODE RED
Copyright © 2014 Veronica Forand

All rights reserved. Unless specifically
noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned,
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ISBN 978-1-941260-43-2

Chapter
1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

About the
Author

CHAPTER ONE

The half-filled parking lot at the pub on a
Saturday night meant fewer free drinks and more time alone.
Damn.

Jess sauntered up to the nearly empty bar.
High heels tapping the wood floor and skintight jeans that showed
every one of her curves announced her availability. “Two whiskey
shots, Adam.”

The handsomest man in the place replied to
her order with narrowed dark brown eyes and a frown. “Not tonight,
Jess.”

“I’m a paying customer. I want my
drinks.”

“You’re in pain. I understand, but drinking
yourself into oblivion every weekend isn’t gonna fix a broken
heart.”

“If I was a man, you’d offer me a whiskey on
the house and point me in the direction of the easiest woman in the
place.” Jess leaned over the bar and provided Adam with the most
menacing look she had. She looked pretty darn mean if the mirror
behind him was accurate, but he just smiled.

“Most everyone’s watching the fireworks in
North Bay, so your chance at scoring a few drinks is limited,
unless you’ve lowered your standards to include Jimmy, Joe, and Old
Len over there.” He pointed to the three old men in the corner
sipping their usual ginger ale tinged with a teaspoon of rum for
flavor.

“They’re not the only men in this place.”
Switching her expression from badass to seductress by the lift of
her eyebrows, she purred. “Too bad I couldn’t convince you to focus
on someone other than your wife.”

He poured two shots and slid them in front of
her. “No thanks. The thought of Lily pointing a gun at my balls
keeps me in line.”

He had a point. His wife would kill him if he
ever cheated on her. Not that he ever would. Lily was tall, blonde,
and built like a World War II pinup girl. The kind of woman a man
wanted around.

Jess picked up one of the shots and tossed it
down her throat. The burn trailed past a heart that had long since
gone cold. She’d need the second shot to increase her
confidence.

A little company for the next few hours
combined with the alcohol would help erase memories of the future
denied her and allow her to crawl back to the apartment she’d lived
in for ten long years to wait for her new life to begin. Until she
could finish her teaching degree and find a job somewhere else,
she’d have to be content with hovering in place. It felt like she’d
been hovering her whole life. The men she met at the bar helped her
escape lonely nights and provided her enough free alcohol to
anesthetize her heartbreak.

Men bought drinks for women who paid enough
attention to them. And Jess knew exactly how much attention to
provide. She played a mean game of pool, could debate hockey stats
with any man in a fifty-town radius, and allowed a certain leniency
on the dance floor. She didn’t offer anything else, and the men
rarely complained. No expectations, no heartbreak.

A few men propositioned her for more intimate
things, but never for a real date. Jess wasn’t the marrying type.
Robert—
may he not rest in peace
—had made
sure to brand that into her soul through his actions and
inactions.

She walked over to the jukebox and stared at
the two hundred songs available. Nothing matched her current mood.
Part of her wanted to become drunk and lost in a stranger’s arms,
but another part of her wanted to go home. She punched in
Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog.” Several of the customers moaned as
the song blasted across the room. She didn’t care. The music would
help block out the jerk’s memory.

She returned to the bar. A third shot sat
next to the two she’d purchased. Although a sliver of her
conscience begged her to ignore it, the other darker part took up
the challenge.

“For me?” she called out to Adam.

“From one of your fans.”

The pub wasn’t full, but several of the
booths had men sitting in them. She discounted any table with a
woman. Men were oblivious at times but generally not suicidal. Two
men in dark business suits sat in a booth near the back of the
restaurant. One was tall, dark, and gorgeous, and the other was
older and shorter with thinning blond hair. They both looked over
at her.
Bingo.
Maybe the good-looking one
would like some company for a few hours.

Downing the second shot with a false bravado,
she strutted toward the men’s table holding the third.

“Careful, Jess,” Adam warned.

She ignored him.

The older of the two assessed her approach
with ice blue eyes. He grinned as she came closer.

The younger, more attractive guy didn’t
appear too young, maybe late thirties or early forties. He narrowed
his eyes and appeared as though he was trying to deflect her
arrival with a laser beam glare.

“Hi, guys,” she said, directing her voice and
her gaze to the friendlier of the two. “Thanks for the drink.”

The balding blond smiled, but Mr. Grumpy
shook his head. “You have the wrong table, sweetheart. Why don’t
you try your luck elsewhere?”

A quick assessment of the rest of the tables
revealed her mistake. The drink was from Carter Jackson. He tried
to wave her over, but her stomach knotted as she recalled her night
with him. His preoccupation with the color of her panties and
whether he could fit into her shoes creeped her out. No, she wasn’t
that desperate. Better to take a chance with the new guys in
town.

The blond moved his walking cane over so she
could slide in next to him.

She snuggled in close, but spoke to Mr.
Grumpy. “Your friend likes my company.”

Too bad the cute guy wasn’t interested. His
friend leaned into her and caressed her shoulder, pushier than the
usual guys she hung out with. She almost shoved him away and
returned to the bar, but something in the cute one’s assessing eyes
held her in place.

“Max, leave the lady alone. We need to
focus.” Mr. Grumpy’s voice was a low growl. A warning lit up inside
Jess, but her body was sending mixed signals like the adrenaline
rush one had before jumping over a cliff.

“You spend your time the way you want. I
prefer spending time with the girl.” Max had a Russian accent. He
pulled her even closer, and his hand slipped around her waist.

When he began to nibble her ear, Jess
flinched. She tried to relax and let her inhibitions fall away, but
the disgusted look of Mr. Grumpy reminded her of just how low she’d
fallen in the past month. This was a bad idea.

She tried to shift away, but Max had locked
his arm around her waist.

“I think she’s no longer interested,” Mr.
Grumpy said.

“She offered. I accepted.” Max sucked on her
neck, causing a wave of nausea to roll through Jess’s stomach.

The other man rubbed his brow, as though her
presence was a huge inconvenience. “Are you okay?”

Jess could deal with a lot, but not pity. She
placed her arm over the Russian’s shoulder and ran her fingers
through his hair. He had a bald spot at the top and the feel of her
fingers gliding across a smooth, sweaty scalp did nothing to
comfort her. “I’m fine. Jealous?”

“No. I like my women willing.”

He speared her with his eyes, straight into
her soul, as though he could see her past, her present, and her
future, and he didn’t like what he saw, and for the first time
since Robert died Jess cared what a man thought of her. This man.
The one not touching her. The one who seemed disgusted with her
behavior.

He glanced at the door and back at her. His
expression softened.

“Want to buy me a drink now?” Confidence
filled her words. Would he pull her to his side of the table?
Hopefully.

With a shake of his head, he dismissed her.
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you leave this bar right now
and go home.”

Did he think she was after money?

“Screw you. Max here wants my company. Your
opinion doesn’t matter.” But it did. His opinion ripped at her
conscience and made her want to run home and mourn the loss of the
beautiful future someone had promised her and failed to provide.
Was this her future now, drinking away her memories and losing more
of her self-worth bit by bit?

Robert, the lying son of a bitch, had
promised to marry her after he returned from graduate school in
Toronto. As consistent as her monthly cycle, he’d stopped by the
bank where she worked as a teller, stopped on his way to his
mother’s house a few hours west and remained in town with Jess long
enough to gain his own personal satisfaction. Jess had been nothing
but a whore to him. He never would have married her. He was already
married. She’d met his beautiful wife and daughter at his
funeral.

What a fool she’d been—for too many years.
And she was still a fool. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop
her tears.

Adam walked over to take orders.

“Belvedere Unfiltered. And whatever the girl
wants.” Max puffed out his chest and nuzzled Jess.

Adam laughed. “You’re in Ohneka, the middle
of nowhere Canada. If you want the fancy stuff, go to New York or
California.”

“Your best vodka then, whatever it is.”

Jess needed more fuel to get through this
bleak night. “Two more shots, Adam.”

He shook his head. “One, and I’m driving you
home.”

“I’ll get a ride.” She glanced at Max, who
answered her request with a grin. A disgusting grin. But did it
matter anymore? If people thought of her as a tramp, she might as
well play the part. Maybe that would make her feel better than
returning home alone night after night.

“And you?” Adam nodded toward Mr. Grumpy.

“A large Coke. No ice.”

Jess snorted. “Aren’t you the tough guy.”

A dimple appeared on his left cheek at the
arrival of a restrained grin. “I’m a control freak. The tough guy
thing is just an offshoot.” He caught Adam’s attention. “I’d
appreciate it if you gave Red here a ride home. She’s not coming
with us.”

Jess’s smile turned into a scowl. “I don’t
think it’s your decision.”

“My car, my decision.” He frowned at Max and
then checked his watch. Perhaps he was meeting his own special
someone and didn’t want her ruining his plans.