Sympathy For The Devil

Sympathy for the Devil

A Stirling Falls Novel

Asha King

By Asha King

Published by Phaze Books

Near to You

Bad Moon Rising

I Who Have Nothing*

Wild Horses

Wild Horses: Cold, Cold Winter

Sympathy for the Devil

Gimme Shelter*

Circle of Friends: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Circle of Friends: Still in Love with You*

*Forthcoming

This is an explicit and erotic novel

intended for the enjoyment

of adult readers. Please keep

out of the hands of children.

www.Phaze.com

Sympathy for the Devil

Copyright © 2013 by Asha King

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Edited by Adrienne Jones

Cover Art © 2013 by Asha King

First Edition August 2013

ISBN-13:
978-1-60659-729-3

Published by:

Phaze Books

An imprint of Celeritas Unlimited LLC

6457 Glenway Ave., #109

Cincinnati, OH 45211

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Celeritas Unlimited LLC, 6457 Glenway Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, [email protected].

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this or any copyrighted work is illegal. Authors are paid on a per-purchase basis. Any use of this file beyond the rights stated above constitutes theft of the author’s earnings. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 per reported instance. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

Production by Celeritas Unlimited LLC

Acknowledgement

Thank you to Aylia, for answering what I dared not ask Google.

Return

Hastings Creek was silent, the water still in the light of a waning moon. Even nocturnal creatures—birds, mammals, and bugs that called the area home—were quiet, not stirring at all as if they knew the evil night brought.

In the silence, plastic crackled.

He could haul her over his shoulder, sure, but he liked the deliberate drag marks in the mud. Liked making everything look sloppier than it was.

Her skin was pale beneath the plastic and stark in the moonlight. Curls of red hair rolled out from under the wrappings where her head lolled. His heels sank into muddy water at his back; with a sigh, he dragged his gloved hand over his brow and let her feet drop. The heat of early July clung to him, weighing down his clothes.

Dumping a body in summer was never fun.

At last he returned to his work, bending down to grasp her ankles. He tugged the body, stepping back into the water as he did. When he was up to his knees, he grasped her hips and pulled, then her shoulders, pushing her off into the creek. She floated gently in the otherwise still waters, plastic glittering as the surface of the creek did.

For a few minutes he watched, the body gaining speed the farther it went, until he was certain it wouldn’t catch near the bank nearby, then he sloshed through the water for the shore.

This message, with any luck, would tell Stirling Falls exactly one thing...

Guess who’s back in town?

Chapter One

Natasha Whitaker ducked through the front door of Main Street’s Bar & Grill into the din of country music, laughter and voices chatting, and cues striking balls in the corner pool table. Closed for usual business though open in that all of Stirling Falls’ residents were invited in, the bar was hopping with energy and full to the brim with people. Multi-colored streamers fluttered when people moved and a wall of thick, humid air struck her. Mr. Holloway apparently didn’t have the air conditioner running—the thing seemed to die at least three times every summer.

She clutched her purse to her and squeezed between a pair of heavy-set truckers in a lineup for the bar, ducked under an arm swinging a stein of beer, and burst through a break in the crowd only to bump into a very, very pregnant woman.

Her best friend, Danyiah Jackson, turned, brown eyes wide and startled for a moment before warming. “Yay, you’re finally here!”

Tash hugged her friend in greeting, though awkwardly with the large baby bump in between them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie, but every time I see you, I think you’ve somehow possibly squeezed more fetuses in there.”

They parted and Dani grinned, rubbing her hand across her abdomen. “So far it’s just the one but I suspect it’s not planning on leaving—there’s probably a crib and dresser in there already.” She wore a white baby-doll style dress with spaghetti straps, the hem falling to her knees, loose and comfortable. Her long black hair was pinned up, but sweat beaded her brow—the heat must be getting to her too.

“Do you want a drink or something?”

“Adam’s
supposed
to be getting me water.”

Tash cocked one thin black brow in skepticism. Dani’s boyfriend, Adam, doted on her excessively—if he’d been intending to get her something, he’d already be back. “What happened to him?”

Dani pointed across the bar to where Adam was in a corner arguing with his boss, Gus, about something or another—the sound of their voices didn’t carry across the room.

“Something to do with some Tennessee Walking Horses being boarded at the farm and the owners are idiots—blah blah, the hell if I know what he’s going on about.”

“Sit for a minute and I’ll get you something.”

“Uh...” Dani cast her eyes around the room.

Right, there was pretty much standing room only. Well, the hell with that. Most of these people didn’t need to be sitting. She spotted a couple of teens at a table a few feet away—nothing wrong with their legs and none of them was pregnant considering they were all boys.

Tash grasped Dani’s arm and guided her for the table.

“Really, it’s okay—”

Tash gave her a warning look. “I’m armed and I’m tired. I’ll brook no argument on this.”

Dani visibly backed off and smiled. “You’re the one with the gun.”

They stopped in front of the table where one boy had his legs stretched out, feet on the spare chair. He gazed up lazily and gave her a cocky grin. “What?”

“Move.”

“Ah, come on, we were here—”

“You’re here in a bar drinking and you haven’t even graduated high school yet, Tommy.”

“No I’m not!”

“Pro tip, hot shot: Coke does
not
hide the smell of rum. Nothing can.”

“But—”

“Do I need to get your father?”

Tommy glowered at her and dropped his feet from the chair with a heavy thud, loud even over the din of noise in the room. His boots had left a dusting of dirt on the chair; Tash looked pointedly at the evidence of his footwear on the seat, then back at him.

He cursed under his breath but nothing she could call him on. Instead she waited while he swept off the seat with his hand and then stood abruptly, nodding at his companions and jerking his thumb over his shoulder. The group of them got up and left.

Dani took the vacated seat, shaking her head and chuckling. “One day, when my kid’s in trouble, it’s not going to call you, the cool aunt. Oh no, it’ll come straight home to me because you are
so
not gonna provide bail money.”

“Oh honey, your kid’s already a lost cause—it’ll be arrested before you leave the hospital. Now I,” Tash set down her purse next to Dani, “will go get that drink and try to pretend like I’ve been here for an hour.” She slipped away from the table, squeezing between patrons again. At least she wasn’t underdressed by the look of it; everyone around here dressed casual no matter the occasion, so her dark low-rise jeans and black tank top fit in fine. She swiped curly black hair from her brow and wedged herself in a spot at the bar.

The bartender was at the other end, rushing to take orders. It seemed insane they only had one guy working tonight. She frowned as she waited, drumming her fingers on the countertop. Patience was not something she’d been born with and she wouldn’t start now. With a sigh she left the bar and headed around the side, ducking beneath the counter and heading straight for the mini-fridge.

“Hey!” the guy at the end called but she gave him her warning look. She didn’t immediately recognize him but he must’ve known her as he backed off. “Sorry,” he continued while she retrieved a bottle of water for Dani and bottle of smoked Scotch ale for herself. “Amy is AWOL and I can’t get in a replacement.”

“On the guest of honor’s tab,” she said, indicating the bottles, then ducked back out from under the bar.

Adam Cooper spotted her and headed over, eyes darting to the water and mouth opening to likely come up with some explanation.

She handed him the bottle of water for Dani. “Go, take this to your woman before she expires.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

Tash rolled her eyes. “Working. You don’t want to know.” Her back still hurt from the tree she’d been lodged in for hours waiting for her client’s husband to show up with his mistress. The good news was she had photos and soon the other half of her paycheck. The bad news was she nearly missed her boss’s retirement party.

“They haven’t done the cake yet—they were waiting for
you
.”

She winced. “I know, I’m sorry. Give Dani her water and I’ll come sit with you guys in a sec.”

They parted, Adam for the center of the restaurant where Dani waited and Natasha for the door at the back that said KITCHEN – STAFF ONLY. She wasn’t staff but, much like the bar, it didn’t stop her from strolling in like she owned the place. She hadn’t opened her bottle of ale yet but just holding the condensation-drenched bottle cooled her off considerably.

Shoulder-first, she pushed through the staff door and into the brightly lit kitchen. One fan spun overhead while another sat on the end of the counter and turned back and forth, drying the sweat on her skin and blowing her hair.

A familiar person leaned against the counter, holding open a paperback book with a worn spine—an old Harlequin, of all things, and it caused a bit of cognitive dissonance, seeing a large, gruff man in old jeans and a crookedly-buttoned denim shirt reading a romance novel.