Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (65 page)

“Who would have already known,” River said.  “Because of the geology teacher.  Why didn’t the teacher just go direct to the mining company?”

“It looks like a lot of it is on private land,” Tempest said.  “My grandmother got an offer on her place, outside of West Bend, but she said there have been other offers, mostly on places in town.”

“I don’t get it,” River said.  “What would that matter?  The mining company just buys the property and mines for it, right?”

“Well, first of all, they’re trying to get it for a song,” I said.  “Without the residents knowing exactly what they’re sitting on.  That’s the most important part.”

“And you can’t just set up a mine in town,” Elias said, turning toward River.

“Oh, right,” River said.  “It’d have to be zoned for mining or whatever, right?”

“Exactly,” Elias said.

“So that’s where the Mayor comes in,” River said.

I nodded.  “The Mayor and Jed would be able to grease the wheels,” I said.

“So if your mother was in on it, why would Jed kill her?” River asked.

“She laid it right out in the journal,” I said.  “She was greedy.  She didn’t just want to sell the land.  She thought she should get a kickback from Jed and the Mayor.  So she threatened the Mayor.  He thought he could reason with her, but she said she was going to blow everything wide open - the affair, the fact that Jed and the Mayor were dirty, the mining company scamming the town residents out of a fair price on the land, the whole thing.”

“We’re assuming Jed killed her, though,” River said.  “We don’t know that.”

“You’re right,” I said.  “The journal only implies it.  It doesn’t outright say.  It just talks about the fact that Jed went to see her and threatened her.”

“Jed or his father,” Tempest said.  “It was one of them.”

“So the question is,” River said.  “What we do with what we know?”

“That’s definitely the question,” Elias said.  “And I don’t know the answer.”

“
A
re you okay
?” Silas was silent the whole drive home, only speaking once we were back at his apartment.

“It’s been a long day,” I said. I was feeling pensive, mentally fatigued from all of the stuff that had happened over the course of the day.  Holing up here with Silas, playing house and pretending like the real world didn’t exist was one thing; having the real world intrude and beat reality over both of ours heads was another thing entirely.

“Elias had no call to be talking like that,” Silas said.

“Actually, he’s right,” I said.  “He hates me and with good reason.”  I crossed my arms, leaned against the kitchen counter.

“He hates you for what you did to me,” Silas said.  “It was a long time ago and he has no reason to be a dick about it now.”  He stood in front of me, ran his finger down my arm, but I didn’t move.

“No,” I said, shaking my head.  “What the hell are we doing here, Silas?”

Silas exhaled heavily.  “Tempest,” he said.  “Don’t let whatever my brother said fuck things up now.  The past is past.”

Except when it’s not.

“The past is never really past, Silas,” I said.  I’d been staying here, playing pretend house with Silas, but I was just deluding myself into thinking there was a possibility I might leave things behind.

“I never stopped loving you, Tempest,” Silas said.  He put his finger under my chin, tilted my head up to his and kissed me on the lips.

“You hated me, back then,” I protested.

“But I didn’t stop loving you,” he said.  “And I know you feel the same way about me.”

Silas’ cell phone buzzed loudly in his pocket and he groaned.  “Perfect fucking timing,” he said.  “Ignore that.”

“You should take it,” I said.  “It’s probably Elias.”

“No,” he insisted.  “Ignore it.”

It buzzed twice more and Silas cursed under his breath.  “Fine,” he said.  “But you and I aren’t finished with this damn conversation.”

I sank back against the counter, hearing bits and pieces of the conversation as he walked into the living room. Something about a fight.  Silas sounded agitated, but when he returned, he smiled.

“I want you to stay,” he said.  “Here, in West Bend.”

“You take a phone call and you suddenly want me to stay?” I said, shaking my head.  “What the hell were you talking about, a fight?”

“There’s a fight in Vegas my friend Trigg called me about,” he said.  “With a good-sized purse.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be fighting,” I said.  “Doctor’s orders.”

Silas shrugged.  “You saw me fucking fight in Vegas,” he said, crossing the room and sliding his hands to my waist.  “I wasn’t supposed to fight then, either.  But I did and it was fine.”

I put my palms on his chest and pushed him away.  “Why the hell would you do something like that, Silas?”

“Simmer down,” he said.  “Why are you getting all pissy about it?  It’s a fight.  It’s ten grand.  I can get a better place, and you can stay with me.  In someplace...
not
like this hovel.  Besides, you can come watch me.  You’ll be my good luck charm.”

Fear clutched at my chest at the thought of Silas fighting again.  “What the hell are you thinking?  You’re the one who told me the doctor told you not to fight again.  You had a head injury.  You take another hit to the head and you could die.”

Silas stepped back from me, clenched his fists.  “Doctors say shit like that,” he said.  “It’s what they do.  Cover their asses in case of lawsuits.”

“You know, for someone so smart, you can be really fucking stupid sometimes, Silas,” I said.

“Why are you being such a killjoy about this?” he asked.  “This is our chance.  It’s easy money and we’d have something to get set up with, something for us.”

“Why are you being so impulsive?” I asked.  “You could die.  There’s no such thing as easy money.”

Silas cocked his head to the side.  “Says the grifter.”

“Yeah, says the grifter, Silas,” I said, my voice getting louder.  “So you should fucking listen to me.  It’s a colossally fucking stupid thing to do.  Besides, I have money.”

Silas furrowed his brow, made a sound under his breath.  “I don’t want your money.”

“Because it’s grifter money?” I heard my voice getting higher pitched.

“No, because I don’t want to not be able to take care of you.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to take care of me, Silas,” I said.  “I never needed taking care of before, and I sure as hell don’t need taking care of now.  And what the hell are we even arguing about, anyway?  I didn’t say I was moving back to West Bend, or moving someplace so you can take care of me.”

Silas stood still, clenching his jaw.  His presumption that I’d move back here so he could take care of me was pissing me off.

He groaned loudly, and stomped across the room to lace up a pair of sneakers.  “Damn it.  I can’t think in here,” he growled.  “I’m going for a fucking walk.”

“Good,” I called loudly to his departing back.  “Make it a long one.  Maybe you’ll come back acting like less of a fucking caveman.”

I heard the door slam behind him.

* * *

A
n hour later
, it was dark and I was seething, my thoughts still churning.  How the hell could Silas be so irresponsible with his life?  He was putting himself in danger and then trying to act responsible with me, as if we were going to get a white picket house and be together forever.  I regretted all of the thoughts that had been going through my head lately, the ones about how I could be with Silas, how we could settle down and live a normal fucking life.

Fantasies about how I could give up grifting and just be with him.

Then he did something that demonstrated he was simply impulsive, a Neanderthal at heart.  And he’d recoiled when I said I had money, as if it had been tainted or something.

When I heard a knock on the door, I stormed over and pulled it open, ready to lay into Silas.  “What, did you forget your key?”

But it wasn’t Silas standing at the door.  It was
Iver.
 “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

I glared at him.  “You tracked me down?”

“We need you, darling,” he said.  “And you missed the meet in New York City.  I wasn’t about to let you slip into the ether without knowing if you were alive or if Coker had gotten to you.”

“Coker’s an even bigger moron than we thought,” I said, momentarily forgetting about how angry I was with Silas.  “He doesn’t realize anything yet.”

Iver shook his head and sighed.  “Sometimes it really is like taking candy from a baby, isn’t it?”

“How did you find me here?” I asked.

Iver raised his eyebrows.  “Do you even need to ask?  Emir knows all.”

I exhaled heavily.  “Of course he does,” I said.

“So?” Iver asked.  “Are you staying here in the middle of nowhere, or are you going to rejoin us in the land of the living?”

I stood there, paralyzed by indecision.  I had a team -
friends
- waiting for me in New York.  And someone who meant something to me here.  Someone who claimed to be sure of what he wanted, but acted in ways totally opposite of that.

What the hell was I going to do?

W
hen I returned
to the apartment, it was dark and the lights were out.  I’d gone out running, five miles, and I was sticky with sweat.  I flicked on the light in the hall, and called out for Tempest, even though I knew before I walked in the door that she was gone.  Her bike wasn’t parked in its spot in the driveway, and I’d have tried to convince myself that she was just out, taking her own time, except that her backpack and clothes weren’t where they’d been in my room.

I stood in the bedroom, drenched with sweat, exhausted and spent, surveying my surroundings.  It was like she’d never been here.

I felt numb.  This whole fucking day, from start to finish, had been like a giant ball of fucked-up-ness, ending with our stupid argument.

I was being an idiot.  That whole time I was out running, I was thinking, I was being an idiot.  That fight I’d done for Abel was supposed to be a one-time thing, just because it was Abel- and it had gotten me out of my debt, made sure Big Harry didn’t break my fucking legs.  It was the last money I’d owed.  I’d gotten arrogant, stupid, thinking I would just go make another quick ten grand doing one more fight.

I wanted something to show Tempest that I had something.  That I wasn’t some losing bet.  I wanted her to take a chance on us.

I didn’t want to come to her with nothing and ask her to be with me. And nothing was exactly what I had.

I had that damn ring, the stupid one I’d bought when I was seventeen, still sitting in my dresser. I’d thought it was so romantic back then, getting her this ring made with a stone named after her – the tempest stone.

She was used to nice things, things like she had in Vegas, and I had nothing like that.  Even the damn ring I was going to give her was as cheap as I was.

I was here, alone, thinking about all of these things.

But mostly, I was pissed off that she didn’t say goodbye.

Again.

“
W
hy the hell
did you insist we have dinner?”  I asked Iver.  I was irritated with Silas for his recklessness, irritated with myself for fighting with him, and irritated with Iver for showing up here.  I could barely contain my rage, and now I was sitting here across from Iver, at this small restaurant on the outskirts of town.

“Humor me.  I drove here from the airport into the middle of Nowheresville, Colorado to rescue you from this town.  I haven’t had lunch, and now it’s well past dinner and I’m starving,” Iver said, looking up at the waitress who arrived.  “I don’t suppose you have a wine list, do you, darling?”

She put her hand on her hip, raised her eyebrows and gave Iver a look that could have peeled paint off a wall.  “I don’t have a wine list,
sweet cheeks
,” she said.

Iver looked at me, his eyebrows raised.  “What did I say?” he asked.

“I think it was the
darling
that pushed you over the edge,” I said.

He picked up his menu.  “Have I lost all my charm?” he asked.  “Is this place some kind of alternate reality where I have no effect on women?”

“Say it’s not so,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I have two tickets out of Denver,” he said.  “To New York.”

“Do we have a mark?”

“Oscar has some possibilities, but nothing that’s especially struck our fancy,” he said.  “But…You don’t get your ticket until I hear about the man who’s the reason for you missing the meet.”

I shook my head.  “Iver, I don’t want to talk about it,” I said wearily.  “It’s - I don’t even know what it is.  It’s done, I think.  I’m not sure.”

Iver leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Tell me everything,” he said.  “I’m not leaving.”

So I told him the entire story- the history of Silas and me from the beginning to end. The whole time, Iver ate steak and I nibbled at the edge of my plate, my stomach churning.  They did serve wine, and Iver ordered a glass of the house red wine, grimacing and declaring it unpalatable as soon as it hit his lips.

When I finished, Iver leaned back in his chair and looked at me carefully.  “Well, it’s settled.”

“What’s settled?”  I felt exhausted, the toll of the entire emotional day finally getting to me.

“What should be done.”  Iver wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin.

“What are you talking about?”  I asked, feeling cranky.  “I’m not taking love advice from the man who never spends more than one night with a woman.”

“I wasn’t talking about your love life,” he said.  “I was talking about the town.  I’ve decided what needs to be done about that.”

“No, no, no,” I said, holding up my hand.  “You’re not bringing Oscar and Emir here.”

“Of course I am, darling,” he said, leaning in close, his voice low.  “And we’ll just have to grift the town.”

I shook my head.  “Been there, done that,” I said.  “Besides, it’s not the town that’s the problem.”

Iver waved his hand.  “I know that,” he said.  “But
grifting the town
sounds considerably more dramatic than
grifting the sheriff and the mayor and the mining company
.  Stop trying to deny me my fun.”

“Perfect idea,” I said, sipping my coffee.  “Especially since you’ve been seen in public with me now.”

Iver shrugged.  “I’m behind the scenes this time, then,” he said.  “Or you are.  Either one.  Details to be worked out later.”

“I’m not on board with it, Iver.”

“Well, then make up with your boyfriend and get on board,” Iver said.  “I don’t find the concept of monogamy to be that appealing, but you’re clearly smitten with him.”

“I’m not smitten with him,” I protested weakly.  But I was.  I knew I was.

“Do I personally think you should retire from the game?  No,” Iver said.

“I didn’t say I was retiring,” I said.  “Don’t even breathe that word.”

But Iver held up his hand again.  “Let me finish, darling,” he said.  “You will only ever hear me utter these words one time, and if you ever tell anyone I spoke them, I’ll deny everything.”

“This I have to hear,” I said.

“I was in love once,” he said, and when I opened my mouth to talk, Iver shushed me.  “I was married.  Don’t look at me like it’s the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard.  It was a long time ago.  She died.  We were only together for a year before she passed, and that year was the happiest I’ve ever been, even though the last six months of it involved being by her bedside in a hospital and watching her waste away into nothing, literally a skeleton of who she was.  I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.”

“Iver, I-”

“Hush, darling,” he said.  “I’m imparting my wisdom right now.  It’s rare, finding someone who understands you.  And it’s even rarer when it comes to people like you and me.  Someone who can cut through all the bullshit, who sees you despite all the masks you wear?  It’s impossible. When you find that, you hang onto it.  It doesn’t matter if it’s for a moment, or if it’s for a lifetime.”

“I don’t know if I can, Iver,” I said.  “What if there’s nothing there, underneath it all?”

“Everyone’s afraid, darling,” he said.  “And we all feel like frauds.  And everyone wears masks- grifters just happen to wear them more visibly than others. Silas sees you for who you are, and that’s something.”

“I’m terrified,” I said.

“Good,” Iver said.  He sipped his coffee, and then grimaced.  “That’s how you know it’s love, by the way.  Because it scares the hell out of you.”