Page 5 of His Valentine

“I knew you’d say that. Keep your head on a swivel. I’ll call you once I have something. If not, I’ll text later on to check in.” I watch as the two separate, each going to their separate vehicles. Chase will have to scramble to get in his car and on Lynch’s tail.

“Same to you. Coast is clear,” I tell him when I see the pair break apart and head in opposite directions. He quietly exits the vehicle and heads to his car behind me, and I wait until he’s ready and our suspects are traveling in two different directions.

Lynch goes one way and DeMarco goes the other. I wait another moment before starting my car to follow him. “Damn, doesn’t look like he’s heading home tonight. Looks like it’ll be a long one. Maybe I should have given Chase this guy,” I grunt into the too quiet car. My finger taps the audio button on the touch screen, and Seven Mary Three’sWater’s Edgeis playing at a decibel so damn loud I’m rushing to turn the volume down. Anyother time, I’d keep it blaring, but when you’re trying to keep a low profile, Jason Ross isn’t helping the cause.

I follow DeMarco at a safe distance, staying a few cars back, and with the way this city is laid out, it doesn’t take much to blend in. Fuck, if this were Whispering Oaks or Oak View, I’d be screwed. It seems anytime the sun sets, everyone goes home. The same can’t be said for Springdale. The population here is three times that of Oak View and six times that of Whispering Oaks. This city also doesn’t sleep, which means I’ll be getting little to no sleep, stop at my parents’ place in the morning, and then get back to fucking work.

DeMarco turns into a seedy joint fifteen minutes after our drive began. I hang back, foot on the brake and idling on the corner. Just as I’m about to settle in, my phone rings.

“This is Hawthorne,” I answer the call on the second ring when I see it’s my captain.

“Need you to come in. We’ve got everything we need. Tomorrow night is go-time. Already called Chase. He’s en route.” Captain Barrett is succinct and to the point.

“Alright.” I no sooner say the word than he’s hanging up the phone. I guess I’m heading back to the station instead of following DeMarco. Jesus, tonight really is going to be a long one.

3

KENNEDY

Ishuffle my feet toward the front door, coffee cup in hand, hair up in a claw clip, cooling eye patches beneath my eyes. Thank you, Mom, for the amazing stocking stuffer. And I’m in some comfy lounge wear that is also courtesy of my mom and her spectacular gift giving. I worked later last night than I was technically supposed to, but the head honcho showed up and everyone had to be on their toes. Perfection is absolutely the name of the game when it comes to working at a strip club. You have to look the part and act the part. The hardest deal with this job is I’m not perfect. Nobody is, yet trying to so much as breathe a word will land you out on your ass.

Believe me, it almost happened last night. A private party came in, requesting me to dance for them in the backroom. I refused. I told them at the time of hire that I’m only on the stage in the main room, nothing else. Well, the manager decided to push me for more last night since the boss man was there. I did not budge, more than ready to walk out and not look back. Sure, my savings account wouldn’t be what I want, but I’d make it work. I always do, even if that meant getting a second job on the weekends to cover a car payment. Which would defeat thepurpose of stripping. The goal is to not have an extra bill every month.

One stare-off later, me standing my ground in my stage outfit, no less, which consists of the tiniest G-string and tassel pasties over my nipples. I wasn’t backing down, and Mitch must have gotten the memo. We were already down two dancers the night before. He couldn’t afford to lose me, too. Starr came to the rescue, realizing that I’d walk, which would mean more work for everyone else. She offered to take the bachelor party, and I went to the dressing room, got ready for my next set, and changed into another outfit. Once the club started dying down, things did not go like they usually do. The lights didn’t light up the otherwise dark and smokey lounge, and shit only got worse. Mitch announced there’d be an after party for which every last one of us was required to stay, stripping, serving, and cleaning once the boss and his friends finally left.

“Maybe Briar will let me take a nap later today.” I open the door, careful not to slosh my steaming mug of liquid caffeine with a healthy dose of creamer. I’m probably going to need about eight more cups to make it through the day and night. I did not have coming home at nearly four in the morning on my bingo card this weekend, nor did I think my internal alarm clock would have me sitting straight up at nine o’clock in the morning after only falling asleep mere hours ago.

I close the door behind me, not bothering to lock it. That would require me to grab my keys and, frankly, I’m lucky to be functioning at this rate. I continue my trek next door to Asher and Lennie’s. I’ve got a little girl to celebrate a little bit with before the grands come and pick her up. While her auntie and uncle have probably loaded her with sugar, my parents will have her dressing up and dancing the night away. I’ve got a stack of her favorite books wrapped and waiting on her bed. She’s recently picked up reading, and while I wish she got it from me,Lennie is the one to thank for it, though it has helped me find time to read a few pages each night before I promptly pass out.

“Good god, Kenny, what the hell is on your face?” I have one hand up and ready to knock on the door when it flings open. I’m greeted with those lovely words from none other than my brother.

“Thanks, butt face. They’re called eye cooling patches. You know, you could use some. Want me to bring you over a pair?” Mom says the bags we carry under our eyes are hereditary. Maybe she’s right. Asher looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, either. I guess last night was a heavy hitter for him, too.

“Christ, get outta here with that crap.” I hear snickering in the background coming from two of my favorite girls. My mood instantly lightens when Briar hops out of her chair and starts charging for me. I scoot to the side, round Asher, being careful to place my mug on a table I know won’t leave a mark on their furniture, and then drop to my knees. Briar gives the best hello big hugs that tell and show you she’s missed you.

“Mommy!” she squeals an octave too high. I wince, worrying about the noise level, but nobody thinks anything of it. I’ve tried to teach her what an inside voice is, but at times like this, whatever she’s learned has gone out the window.

“My sweet baby girl. Were you good for Auntie Lennie and Uncle Ash?” Briar pulls back, nodding so much her hair shakes out of its ponytail.

“Yep, we’re having chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Yummy.” I can tell by the chocolate on her lips she’s chowing down.

“Uncle Ash makes the best. Auntie Lennie cut the watermelon,” Briar states before she’s heading back to the kitchen table to devour her food whole.

“Wanna stay for breakfast?” Asher asks once I’m back on my feet, grabbing my coffee and taking a few fast sips. I’m prayingthis will perk me up. If not, I’ll be guzzling down an energy drink or three before work.

“Sure.” I’m not one to pass up food when it comes to Asher’s cooking or Lennie’s baking. The two of them are a dynamic duo, meant for each other, and lucky enough to love each other so much nothing can come between them. My mind takes me back to Trent Hawthorne. I’ve managed to avoid him for the most part since the very awkward ride home. I’m cordial and will say hello or speak when spoken to, but other than that, I give him a very wide berth.

“Figured you’d say that,” Asher jokes.

“I’ll never turn down a free meal.” We walk to where Lennie and Briar are at the kitchen table, tucking into their meal.

“Don’t I know it. How much longer you gonna work your ass to the bone, sis?” Asher knocks my shoulder with his.

“I’m sorry. I know this is a lot. You guys have helped more than you should have, and now that Lennie is pregnant, I shouldn’t even ask. You two do so much already.” Guilt overrides my need for anything else. Everyone has picked up my slack, always helping the single mom who can’t make it without her family. Damn it, now I’m going to cry, and it’s not for me or Briar; it’s for the people who always offer their assistance when they shouldn’t have to. “I’ll figure something out. Promise.”

Asher places his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “Listen here, Kennedy Lynn Fontaine. This is not what that’s about. Lennie would tell you if she couldn’t help or needed a break. One night a week is not hurting us. The three extra nights are killing my baby sister. Pisses me off to no end you won’t take a loan from me or let me help you out, when you don’t ask for dick except to spend time with my niece. Which I’d do regardless of your work schedule, and you know it. So, how much longer?” Brother bear has come out, and it seems I’ve poked him right in the side. We’re still out of earshot fromLennie and Briar. I look at the two of them together, how soft and sweet she is with my girl. Lennie truly will be the best mom ever, and she’ll have Asher by her side. I may have chosen the wrong man to have Briar with, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

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