Page 8 of The Rogue

Hell, at this point, I’ll take a full night’s sleep. I still wake up in cold sweats because of what I lived through.

Even with the freedom of roaming about outside a safehouse, I’m not free. I’mchainedto this town until the entire organization is locked away.

“What if I go with you? Make sure you’re not being followed and, when the coast is clear, I’ll catch a flight back.”

I wrap the green apron around my waist. “I wouldn’t put you at risk like that.”

She purses her lips. “When do you leave?”

“As soon as I find a job in Hideaway Springs,” I whisper as if anyone could hear us.

She perks a brow. “Haven’t you exhausted all their resources by now?”

I wince.

She may have a point. I’ve worked nearly every job in that small town and they all ended terribly.

Not to mention, the dust barely settled after I fled the place over a month ago.

The last time Frank sent me out of Summer Hill—last fall—happened to be right around the time Aiden Reeves, owner of Hideaway Springs Inn, needed a new bartender in the lobby bar.

I jumped at the chance at that job. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to secure a place to live. Not an affordable one at least. So…I snuck into one of the guest rooms…every night…for several months.

One evening in late Spring, I finished a shift, closed up, and went up to my room. I found Aiden leaning against the small window, hands in his pockets and an expression that told me I needed to explain.

Aiden was…reasonable, to say the least. He even offered to work something out if I could be honest about my situation. But I was too mortified to stick around.

Exhausted or not, I can’t helpwantingto go back. Perhaps it’s the irony of the town’s name and my need to hide away.

Or maybe I’m drawn to its charming existence. There’s life on those streets. Peoplecareabout their community. Friendships grow like wildflowers and families are as tight as a handmade quilt, each piece bound together by love.

I’m not looking for a permanent home there.

Nothing and nowhere is permanent—or safe—for me.

But because I’m a little bit of a masochist, I continue to choose a place where I’m known as theTown Rogue. My welcome party will likely consist of ‘you owe us money’ and ‘go back to where you came from’.

I wave her off. “Oh, I’m sure there’s something I haven’t done yet. Good labor is hard to find. And I’m ready, willing and able.”

Bessie sighs. “Could you at least try to find something that’s not aspublicas bartending this time.”

I wince. “Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest choice.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to the hot stove. “Read me off the classifieds, and I’ll tell ya if it’s a no or a go.”

With a deep breath, I settle onto a stool with my phone and type into the blank fields.

Here goes nothing.

Job Search – Hideaway Springs

1 result.

Single dad rancher seeking live in nanny for 9-year-old boy. Must have experience, playful andnotlooking for a real-life love story.

Temp job - 6 weeks only.

I chuckle but at the same time, want to cry. This can’t be it. There can’t just beonejob in the entire town.

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