Page 135 of Secondhand Smoke

A crawling sense of unease tickled up the back of her neck. “Fine. We’re only stopping in for a minute,” she said, hoping to get rid of him. “Just picking up a few things for dinner.”

“Oh, right.” He nodded. “Hey, have you seen Aidan lately?”

That question again. She didn’t like it. A spasm of fear shot through her, and she couldn’t say why, only that it seemed strange.

“No,” she said, “I haven’t. Look, Greg, it’s great to see you, but–”

“Oh, you’re busy. I get it. That’s fine.” Fast, tight grin. “Good to see you again.” And he was gone, walking to the register.

~*~

One phone call and a bacon pasta dinner later, Sam was waiting on the back patio with a glass of white wine, sweater folded tight across her front against the November cold when she heard the bike pull up in her drive. She tensed, braced herself, and Aidan appeared seconds later, chilled and windblown.

He hesitated a moment, like he wanted to kiss her, but sat down hard in a patio chair instead. He pulled out a smoke and lit up, eyes dark and heavy in the light of the overhead security bulb. “Greg?” he asked.

“Twice now,” she said, nodding. “A few weeks ago, and then this afternoon. I didn’t think much of it the first time, but twice now he’s asked me if I’ve been in touch with you. You said to call you if anything seemed strange. So yeah. This strikes me as very strange.”

He took a hard drag, smoke mingling with his words. “You don’t even know, sweetheart,” he said, mostly to himself, shaking his head. He seemed deeply troubled. “He say anything else?”

“Not this time, no. The time before it was just pleasantries.”

“Hmm.”

“Aidan.” Her voice was firm, a surprise to herself and a magnet for his attention; his eyes snapped to her face. “I’m not one of those women who’s going to demand to know what’s going on behind the doors of your meeting room–”

“Chapel.”

“–chapel,” she amended. “But the last time I saw Greg, someone was shaking him down for his lunch money at Knoxville High. But you’re sitting here now worried that he talked to me. So I’m going to need to know what’s going on.”

He stared at her, a long, level look, obviously weighing things in his mind. Without blinking, he said, “The club’s made an enemy of someone more powerful than we thought. Greg’s working for them. And they took Tango.”

She felt the blood drain out of her face. “Theytookhim?”

“They’re holding him hostage until we get the money put together.” He glanced away, swallowing hard. “God knows what they’ll do to him.”

“God,” she breathed. “Kev.” Kevin Estes had always been a sweetheart, even in high school, when Aidan had been the biggest douche alive and hadn’t known she’d existed. Kev had always been polite, kind, almost apologetic on behalf of his best friend.

“Yeah.” He finished his smoke, ground it out on the concrete, and got to his feet.

Sam stood too. “Aidan.”

This time when his eyes came to her, she saw the repressed emotion in them, the brimming regret and longing. “Don’t say my name like that if you don’t mean anything by it,” he said quietly. “Shit is spinning out of control and I need–” He bit down hard on the rest of his sentence.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and felt emotion rising in her throat, dampening her eyes. “I hate this. I…”

He stepped in close to her, took her by the arms and pulled her up flush against his tall, hard body. “It’s a girl,” he said, almost whispering. “The baby.” The smile that streaked across his face was more pain than joy. “I’m gonna have a girl, Sam.”

She put both hands on his chest, felt the thunder of his pulse. Felt something unfurling inside her, something she couldn’t describe, even with her writer’s vocabulary.

“Wait for me,” he urged fervently. “I’m gonna get Kev back, and I’m gonna make things right for us. Just please, baby, wait. Because I love you and I can’t do it without you.”

He kissed her, fast, hard, his mouth damp against hers, and then pulled back, released her. “Stay safe,” he said, and then was gone.

Sam groped behind her, found a chair, and sank into it.

Thirty

“Where are we with the money?”

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