Page 12 of Sheltered

“The place is a mess,” Jesse added. “Every glass bottle was smashed, and every person there, including employees and patrons, was terrorized.”

“Do they have any possible suspects?” Leo asked.

“None,” Jesse answered. “The Steel Ridge PD are investigating, obviously, but they don’t have any leads at this point.”

“This seems strange for a random attack,” Ty noted. “They didn’t take anything?”

“Nothing,” Sawyer confirmed.

Leo turned his attention to Royce. “What is the plan here?”

A look of defeat washed over Royce’s face. “Unfortunately, at this point, we’re not involved. If the police department reaches out and wants our help, you know we’ll step up to the plate. For now, in case this is a targeted attack, Jesse is going to spend his evenings, when Sawyer’s working, hanging at the pub. Since it’s just not in our nature to sit back and do nothing, we’ll likely try to have Ty and some other members of the bodyguard and private security unit watching over the place.”

That wasn’t a bad idea.

Ty had been right. I didn’t know much about the owner of The Steel Pub, but it was likely that someone had a problem with him. It was entirely possible that what happened last night was meant as a warning. And if that was the case, it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that if the owner didn’t act accordingly, the people who showed up last night could return.

After getting a few more details about what happened last night, Jesse and Sawyer took off while everyone else dispersed.

As Royce stood to leave, I stepped into the room and said, “Hey, Royce, Huck just told me what was going on, and I heard what happened last night. I know we’re not officially on the case, but if there’s anything that comes up that you’d like to my help with, I’m eager to do it.”

“Thanks, Blaze. Leo said the same thing, so if that’s where things wind up, I’m sure we’ll get things handled between the two of you,” he replied.

“For sure. Alright, I’m going to head back to my office and get to work,” I told him.

“Sounds good. I’ll keep you posted on this.”

After I left the conference room and made my way to my own office, my phone buzzed against my leg. I pulled it out, noticed it was a local number, but didn’t recognize the caller. Even still, with barely a smidgen of hope left in me that it could be the one call I’d been hoping for ever since Friday night, I answered.

“Hello?”

A soft, feminine voice came through the line. “Blaze?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is this Harlow?” I asked.

“You remembered me,” she said.

Did she think it was possible I could have forgotten her?

I hadn’t gone out on Friday expecting anything, but I was convinced it had been my lucky night. We’d had such a nice time together, and she was unbelievably gorgeous. She was tall, with a set of legs that seemed to go on for days. Her body was slender, her breasts were on the larger size—easily more than a handful—and she had a pretty face. Harlow had long, straight, dark brown hair that somehow seemed to be accentuated by her whisky-colored eyes. She was sweet and breathtaking, and meeting her had been one of the best encounters of my life. As a guy who’d had plenty of wild experiences, that was saying something.

“Of course, I remember you. I’m glad you called. Would it be presumptuous of me to assume you’re calling with good news?”

“It would not. I was kind of hoping I didn’t drop the ball by not calling you sooner,” she returned.

I hadn’t been able to stop replaying my night with her ever since she drove away from me in the parking lot on Friday. When I hadn’t heard from her this weekend or earlier this week, I forced myself to face the truth—it was possible Harlow didn’t get the same thing out of those few hours we spent together that I did. I was bummed about it, wishing I’d done something to solidify another chance to spend time with her before she left.

Now, it seemed my patience had paid off. “Not at all.”

“So, I’ve taken some time to consider it, and I think I’d like to see what would happen if we gave this a shot to turn into something else.”

A grin spread across my face. “Nothing would make me happier. Would you like to get together again sometime over the next few days?”

“I can make that work,” she said.

“What days are you free?”

Harlow took a moment to consider her response and ultimately answered, “I work every day, Tuesday through Saturday. I’m off on Sundays and Mondays, so I’d be up for anything either in the evenings on the days I work or anytime of the day on my days off.”

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