Vindicated (5 page)

After class, a crisp and biting wind cut through her coat as she walked to the car. Deep in thought, she threw her backpack into the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel. Dead leaves skittered over the light dusting of snow in the tree-lined parking lot. Tiny confetti snowflakes danced through the air. When her gaze came to a stop on the dashboard clock, she winced. Her next shift at the Thirsty Scotsman started in less than twenty minutes. If she didn’t get her ass in gear, she’d be late, and her boss, Scotty, was nearly as anal about punctuality as Professor Marks.

With the key in the ignition, she pumped the gas pedal three times and counted to three before she turned the key. This ritual had been successful in the past, but today the temperamental engine rattled and coughed. Nothing happened. She turned the key again and uttered a prayer. The words left frosty clouds in the cold atmosphere. After a third attempt, she popped the hood, jiggled the battery cables, and tried again. The engine groaned in protest, squealed like a cat caught in a trap, and backfired. The smell of burnt wiring and exhaust filled the inside of the car. Clenching her teeth, she went back to the engine and stared at it.

"What's wrong?" A warm hand touched her elbow, and a deep, rumbling voice rasped in her ear.

She jerked and banged her head on the underside of the hood
.
With a curse, she turned to see the responsible party and found Randy looming at her side in all his messy-haired bad boy deliciousness.

“Wow. That’s going to leave a mark. Are you okay?” Randy’s hand gripped her elbow, steadying her as he ran his gaze over her, assessing and questioning.

"This thing’s a piece of crap." She rubbed the knot on top of her head and winced. "It doesn't want to start in this cold weather."

“Me neither,” he said, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

With the air of an expert, he perused the dirty engine compartment. His long fingers jiggled the battery cables. A frown furrowed his brow. She leaned into the engine compartment with him and caught a whiff of his clean soap scent. Their gazes met over the carburetor. A hint of green and purple lurked below his left eye.

“Nice shiner,” she said.

"So I’ve heard. Occupational hazard." A grin curled his full lips. "Impressive, huh?"

“Only if the other guy looks worse.” She pulled her coat tighter about her as the wind whistled through the tree branches overhead. They were alone in the parking lot. Ominous clouds churned in a sky tinged with gray and lavender. Winter was eager to flex its muscle.

"Go try it again," he said.

After a few minutes of engine grinding and puffs of black smoke from the tailpipes, he shut the hood and came around to the driver's side window.

The first snow of the year began to fall in earnest. Fat flakes stuck to Randy’s thick eyelashes and the reddish-brown stubble on his cheeks. He squatted beside the car door to put himself at her eye level. A frisson of unforeseen excitement fluttered in her lower belly. All his attention focused on her, his expression earnest and concerned, as if she was the most important thing in his world. She licked her dry lips, undone by the quiet intimacy of his demeanor. What would it be like to possess a man like him? The prospect sent a heated flush into her cheeks. She had to look away before he saw her naked thoughts.

When he spoke, a wintry silence muffled his words. "I can't tell for sure, but I think your alternator is going out. Maybe the thermostat, too. And it looks like you're leaking transmission fluid."

"Oh, no. Don't tell me that. It has to make it through the winter." At this point, her belt couldn't get any tighter. With a heavy sigh of resignation, she gathered her things. "I’ve got to get to work, or I’ll never have the money to fix it.” He stood and stepped aside to her allow her out of the car. “If I hurry, I might be able to catch the next bus.”

"Hold up a minute.” He pursed his lips as if weighing her options. "I tell you what. Give me your keys. I'll get Skeeter’s tow truck and take it over to his garage. We'll put it up on the lift and see if we can figure out what's going on."

"Really? You’d do that?" Stubborn pride tempered her need. Everything came with a price, a lesson she learned long ago. She hated handouts, but fate had backed her into a corner. "How much is that going to cost?"

"I don’t know. We’ll have to look at it.” The long fingers scratched the stubble on his chin. “I'm not promising anything, but we might be able to scrounge up some used parts. That’s the thing about old cars like this. They’re easy to fix." He hunched his shoulders against the wind. It swirled snow around his feet like shifting sands in the desert. "Come on. I'll give you a ride to work."

The cab of his truck smelled like leather and tobacco, scents she found oddly comforting. He filled the small space with his presence, reminding her how big he was. The truck rumbled down the street, big block engine vibrating through the floor and into her feet. Neither of them spoke. To cover the silence, Randy turned on a southern rock station and hummed along to the melody, his rough voice out of tune and broken but curiously endearing. She bit her lower lip to hold back a smile.

Like the thoughts in her mind, the snowflakes outside the window whirled and collided. A quick calculation of rent, utilities, and food suggested another lean week. Always at the back of her mind lurked Emma. Little girls needed clothes, shoes, and toys—things her self-absorbed parents would never provide.

“If you think any harder, you’re going to fog up the windows,” Randy replied dryly. One large hand rested on the top of the steering wheel, the other on his thigh. He took his eyes from the road long enough to cast a glance at her. “You’re worrying, aren’t you?”

She snorted and tried to smile. “I’m really good at it.”

He pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Scotsman and set the brake before turning to face her. Their eyes met. Attraction hummed between them. Although she searched the depths of his enigmatic gaze for a clue to the origin of his bewildering kindness, she found nothing. The most obvious answers were reparation for his departure after their one-night stand or loyalty to Ally. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to puzzle it out.

“I appreciate the ride and the help. Thanks.” Without waiting for his response, she gathered her things, opened the truck door, and hopped to the ground.

“No problem.” His words floated on the cold air behind her. By the time she turned around, he was gone.

Chapter 8

It was late afternoon when Randy towed Karly’s car to the garage and got it up on the lift. He welcomed the distraction of working with his hands amid the comforting smells of motor oil and exhaust but left the garage feeling unsettled. The car, despite its pretty paint job and classic appeal, was a piece of shit and barely worth the price of the gas in the fuel tank. Breaking the news to Karly and seeing the disappointment on her face wasn’t going to be fun.

When he got in his truck to leave the garage, he swiped a hand over his face and scowled. Why did he care what she thought? Didn’t he have enough problems of his own to deal with? The tension between Pilar and himself continued to escalate. Since she frequently dodged his calls, he’d taken to arranging his visits with Caleb through text message and email. The correspondence might come in handy if she made good on her threat to pursue sole custody.

An incoming call from Pilar snapped him from his thoughts. Perfect fucking timing, as always. Steeling himself for another battle, he shoved the truck into gear and flicked the Bluetooth button on the dashboard.

“I didn’t get your child support this week,” Pilar said before he could speak. The stiffness in her voice grated on his already frayed nerves.

“Yeah, it’s nice to talk to you, too,” he said.

“This is the third week in a row there’s been a delay. I’m sick of it, Randy.”

The sounds of a mewling baby and playful children littered the background of her call. He could hear her rustling around the kitchen, the clang of pots and pans, water running, the dog barking. Caleb’s childish voice rose above the others. A sharp stab of pain rocketed through his chest. How was he? Did he miss his dad?

“Stop it, boys. No running in the house,” she said to the children.

“I’m not falling for that again this week.” He thought she might pull something like this and in preparation had done a little research. “The deposit went into your account on Tuesday, right on time.” Brake lights flashed on the car in front of him. He swerved into the oncoming lane, narrowly missing the rear bumper of the car, and cursed under his breath. Heart racing, he pulled into a nearby parking lot and cut the engine. “You tricked me out of an extra payment last week, so don’t give me that bullshit. If anything, I’m paid up two weeks in advance.”

The heavy sigh of her frustration gusted into the phone. “Things are kind of tight around here. We needed the money.”

“Pilar, I’m more than happy to help out with Caleb. I’ve told you a million times. All you have to do is ask. If he needs something, I’ll do whatever it takes.” He traced a hand around the perimeter of the steering wheel, feeling the leather stitching beneath his fingertips. “But don’t try and fuck me over. What happened to the money I gave you last week?”

Stubborn silence met his question. Anger ignited inside him.

“That money is for Caleb, Pilar. Not you and especially not Mitch.”

“Well, it’s not enough. He needs shoes,” she replied. “He’s growing so fast I can barely keep him in clothes, and he eats like a full-grown man.”

Pride swelled his chest. Caleb was going to be a big boy just like his daddy.

“I can drop a payment off at the courthouse today, if you’d like.”

“I need it today.” Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of desperation in her voice?

“Like I said, I can take it to the courthouse right now. Or better yet, how about if I come get Caleb and take him shopping?”

“It’s not your day,” she replied.

“Are you freaking kidding me? Tomorrow’s my day.” Stretched to the limit, his patience snapped. “What does it matter?” His words fell on empty air as the dial tone buzzed in his ear.

Son of a bitch.
He slammed a fist into the headliner of the truck, overcome with helpless frustration. Accustomed to assuming control and dominating every situation, he hated feeling like a victim. Pilar knew it and used it to her advantage, plunging the knife deep into his back and twisting it with every opportunity. He supposed it was all a part of karma circling around to bite him in the ass.

He hit the recall button on his phone. Pilar answered halfway through the first ring as if she’d been waiting for him to call back.

“Don’t hang up,” he snapped, “or so help me God I will drive over there, and we can hammer this out face-to-face.”

“Fine. What is it?” The bored, unconcerned tone of her voice made his fingers curl into fists.

“If you want more money, we can have our attorneys draw something up. I’ll be there tomorrow at eight o’clock to pick up Caleb. Make a list and I’ll get him whatever he needs.” Tension compressed his frontal lobe. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the space between his brows with two fingers. “This isn’t right, Pilar. We need to figure out a way to get along…”

The dial tone buzzed in his ear again. He glared at the phone and resisted the urge to hurl it out the window.

Chapter 9

Karly wiped her hands on her apron and adjusted the waistband of her sassy kilt before heading into the bar to start her shift. On a normal night, there were three servers on the floor and two bartenders. Due to the snow, two waitresses and one bartender called off work, which left her to handle the entire dining area. Josh, always reliable and oozing positive energy, arrived a few minutes after Karly with snow in his hair and a grin on his pretty face.

A family of four sat alone in the dining room. Their two teenage girls followed Josh with adoring eyes as he sauntered over to the bar and logged into the register. Karly couldn’t blame the girls for drooling. With spiky blond hair and stunning green eyes, Josh belonged on the pages of a magazine. What’s more, he knew it and exploited his sex appeal at every opportunity.

“Can you believe this weather?” He rolled his eyes, straight nose wrinkling in disgust.

“This is nothing,” Karly replied. “Last winter we got fourteen inches in October, and it didn’t melt until April.”

“Oh, hell. I’ll never survive here. Why did I pick a college in Indiana instead of California or Florida?” He groaned. “Maybe I’ll head to the Bahamas for a few days and perk up my tan.”

“Seriously? You just got back from Jamaica a few months ago. How do you go to school and afford all those trips?”

He flashed a mouthful of startling white teeth in a wide grin. “I’ve been hitting bachelorette parties like they’re going out of style.”

“You mean, like, crashing them?” Karly eyed the French fries on the plate she was about to serve, mouth watering. Maybe later she could convince the cook to fix her a hamburger.

“No, silly girl. I’m talking about shaking my money maker for a bunch of drunk chicks.” He rolled his hips in a sexy grind to imaginary music, eliciting nervous giggles from the teenage girls. Scotty, the owner, passed by the bar on the way to the kitchen and shook his head in disapproval. Josh sobered and poured out four Cokes from the fountain before sliding them onto Karly’s tray. “Two hours, big tips, and every now and then I get to hook up with a hottie.”