Road Trouble Read online

  Nina's voice bellows from my phone. "Why the hell did you tell him your name?"

  I put the phone to my ear. "I'm not worried about him. He's not a psychopath."

  "And you know that based on what? A five second encounter with the guy? He wouldn't even talk to you. He's probably bat-shit crazy!"

  "He's a little odd but he's not crazy. Besides, he's not sticking around. He's heading away from town. I doubt I'll ever see him again."

  "You need to be more careful. Being in a small town doesn't mean you're safe. You can know someone for years and then find out—" She stops suddenly, then mutters, "Sorry."

  "It's fine."

  "I wasn't talking about your dad," she says, rushing her words. "I was just talking in general. I mean, like when—"

  "Nina, it's fine. You don't have to explain. I know what you meant."

  She's quiet for the rest of the drive. I am too, my mind now on my dad. I'm trying to forget what he did, but unfortunately, living here is a constant reminder.

  My dad took off when I was six, right after my parents' divorce. I didn't see or hear from him again until my junior year of college when he showed up at my dorm, begging me to let him back into my life.

  He looked different than I remembered. He was wearing a shirt and tie and a tailored suit. His dark hair had speckles of gray and was cut shorter than I'd ever seen it. His hair had always been on the long side and kind of messy. And I'd never seen him wear a suit. When I was a kid, he worked a variety of odd jobs, none of which required wearing a suit.

  When he showed up I was tempted to tell him to leave, thinking he didn't deserve a second chance after taking off the way he did. But I desperately wanted him back in my life so I went to dinner with him and listened to him tell me his reasons for leaving. He gave me a sob story about how he was lost and confused and needed to go find himself before he could be a father again. His words were all bullshit but at the time I believed him. I also believed his story about owning a successful investment firm. Turns out it was only successful for him, not the people who invested with him. They all ended up broke, including me.

  My own father stole from me. He convinced me he could take my college fund and double it. At first I didn't trust him, but over the course of that year, he not only gained my trust, but also my mom's. In fact, she and my dad started dating again, and just last April, he asked her to marry him for the second time. They set a wedding date for the fall and my dad moved into my mom's house, a small but nice house just outside Kansas City.

  Soon after their engagement, my dad convinced me to give him access to my savings account so he could invest the money. By then, I had no hesitations. He'd been back in my life for almost two years and I figured if my mom trusted him and forgave him, I should too. My mom, who has always been frugal and managed to save a lot over the years, also handed over her money to my dad. The fact that he could convince both of us to trust him that much after he disappeared for all those years just shows what a great liar he is and how skilled he is at the art of persuasion.

  Everything came crashing down in May, my last day of finals. I was thrilled to be done and was getting ready to go out and celebrate with friends at a club near campus. As I was picking out what to wear, my mom called and asked if I'd talked to my dad. I told her I hadn't heard from him for a few days. She said she hadn't either and that he'd taken off on a business trip to Miami and hadn't checked in with her or returned any of her calls. Worried something happened to him, she called all the hospitals in Miami but none had any records of him being there. She was about to go to the police station to report him missing but then the police showed up at her house.

  My college is only a couple hours away so I raced home to be with my mom. An investigator from the police department was there when I arrived. I sat beside my mom on the couch as we listened to the investigator tell us that everything my dad had told us was a lie. His investment firm was all a scam. He convinced people to give him their money, promising them a big return on their investments but instead, he stole it all, including all the money my mom and I had given him.

  We were both stunned. We didn't have a clue he'd been conning us. Nobody did, until people started calling and asking for their money. Eventually the police got involved and that's how they ended up at our door.

  "You there yet?" Nina asks as I pull into the garage.

  "Yeah. You can hang up now." I get out of the car.

  "Did you close the garage door?"

  "I'm doing it now." I push the button and go in the house. "Why are you being so paranoid?"

  "Because I don't like the fact that some strange guy is just walking down the road not heading anywhere."

  "He's heading somewhere. We just don't know where."

  "There's nothing out that way but farm fields and a few houses, one of which is yours. What if he shows up there?"

  "Then I'll tell him to go away. He made it clear he didn't want my help." I set my purse on the kitchen counter and open the fridge. "Damn. I forgot to stop at the store. I have nothing for dinner."

  "Let's go out."

  "I don't feel like it. I think I'm just going to stay in." I shut the fridge and go in the living room to sit down.

  The house I'm staying at belongs to my mom's friend, Lorraine Driscoll. She's a realtor and sold us our house years ago. It was the house I grew up in and I loved it. Last winter my dad convinced my mom to sell the house and invest the profits with him, which she did. She moved into a rental house that was a lot smaller and not as nice. After a few months, she was tired of renting and told my dad she wanted her money back to buy a new house. A few days later he disappeared. So he not only took her money. He also took her house.

  Around that same time, Lorraine's aunt died and left her this house. It's in a small town, about an hour from Kansas City. She offered to let my mom and me stay here for free until we figured out what to do next. We took her up on the offer and decided to live here for the summer, but just as we were about to move, my mom got a call from a friend of hers in New York who knew about her situation and offered her an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

  My mom is a high school art teacher, but when she was younger, she was an up-and-coming artist. She was selling her paintings and starting to become known. A gallery owner in New York told her she had real potential and that if she moved there, he would introduce her to the right people who could further her career. But she turned him down because by then, she was married and pregnant with me. She wanted me to grow up in a house with a yard, not a high rise condo in Manhattan.

  She gave up her dream, so when her friend called, offering to let her create some pieces for her gallery, I told her to go. She has the summer off from teaching so now is a great time to do this, and hopefully it'll get her mind off what my dad did to us. Plus, she's staying for free with her friend and if she sells a painting or two, she could get a lot of money. Her friend's gallery caters to the super rich who are always looking for the next great artist.

  She was reluctant to leave me here for the summer but I convinced her I'd be fine. But then I actually moved here and found out some of the families in town had invested with my dad. Turns out, he'd been selling his fake investments to people in small farm towns throughout the state. He's originally from a small town so he used that to his advantage, telling people he was no different than them, which is why they could trust him.

  Now I'm paying for what he did. Living in a town where people hate me because my dad stole from them. My mom doesn't know that. If I told her, she'd worry and move back here in her mom-driven need to protect me, even though I'm an adult who is fully capable of handling all the rude comments and dirty looks.

  When my mom asks about the town, I tell her the people here are nice and that I've made friends. At least the friends part is true, even though it's only one.

  "C'mon, Sage. It's my night off and I'm bored. And when I'm bored I smoke. You'll be supporting my health if you agree to go out with me."

  "Nice try." I yawn, tired from a day of filing invoices. Jesse is the worst when it comes to keeping track of stuff. He has no idea which customers have paid and which haven't, or what bills are due and when. He just fixes cars. If it weren't for Helen, the old lady bookkeeper who works there, and me, who replaced the receptionist who quit when she had her baby last spring, Kenny's Garage would be out of business by the time Kenny gets back. Kenny has the business brains, his sons don't.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Nina asks.

  "It means there's a good chance you'll smoke even if we go out. You're just using the boredom excuse to get me to go out tonight."

  "Is it working?"

  I take a moment to consider it. Going out would be better than being here. This house is really depressing. It still has all the stuff from Lorraine's elderly Aunt Mabel, including the furniture, which she must've bought when she moved in sixty years ago. The upholstery is covered in layers of dust that can't be vacuumed away, making the whole house smell dusty and old. Or maybe it's death I'm smelling. Mabel died on the couch, which is why I never sit on it. Instead I sit on one of the chairs but both are tearing apart at the seams and have sunken seat cushions. At least the TV is fairly new but I can't afford cable so there isn't much to watch.

  "Okay, I'll go," I tell Nina. "I'm tired but I don't want to be here right now. This place is depressing."

  "Hell, yeah, it is. The old lady died there. I don't know how you sleep there. If Butthead ever moves out, you can come live with me."

  Butthead is her younger brother. He's 19 but acts more like 13. He's a busboy at one of the restaurants in town and keeps telling Nina he's getting his own place, but then he never does.

  "I have a feeling Jeremy's going to live with you forever."


  "Then I'm moving out and he'll have to find another roommate."

  "So where do you want to go?"

  "Skeeter's. It's two for one night."

  "I'm not really up for drinking tonight." Truthfully, I could use a drink but I don't have money for drinks. Every dime I make has to go for essentials, like food, or into my college fund.

  "It's two for one burgers. The drinks are regular price."

  "Sounds perfect. I'll meet you there. I just need to take a quick shower."

  "I'll head over there now and have a beer. Don't bail on me or I'll show up at your door."

  "I'll be there. I promise."

  After a quick shower, I put on a denim mini skirt and black tank. Skeeter's isn't a place you dress up for. Even though it serves food, it's more of a bar than a restaurant. A lot of the locals hang out there so it's possible someone will harass me because of my dad, but if so, Nina will kick their ass. She's lived here her whole life and knows most everyone's deepest, darkest secrets so she's not someone you want on your bad side. As long as she's with me, people will leave me alone.

  At seven I text her I'm on my way. As I'm grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter, an image of that guy pops in my head. What if he's still walking? He's got to be dying of thirst. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, then go out to my car.

  It's still light out, and as I'm driving I try to calculate where he might be right now. When I saw him, he was probably five miles from my house. I'm sure he's walked at least a mile or two since then.

  Driving past Old Man Miller's house, I stop suddenly because I swear I just saw that guy in Miller's driveway. Maybe that's his grandson. I didn't think Mr. Miller had any kids. Then again, I've only met him one time and we didn't talk long so I don't know that much about him.

  Against my better judgment, I back the car up and pull into Miller's driveway. The guy has his back to me, but turns when he hears the loud rumbling engine of my car as it pulls up beside him.

  "Hey," I say, putting the car in park. Since I can't get my window all the way down my view of him is partially blocked through the dusty glass.

  He sighs. "Now what?"

  "I was driving by and saw you here." I turn the car off and get out so I can see him without the glass obstruction. Damn, he's hot. Even sweaty and covered in dirt, he still looks good. "Are you Mr. Wilson's grandson?"

  He wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and glares at me. "Is everyone in this town as nosy as you?"

  "I'm not nosy. I'm just being friendly. We're neighbors so I thought I should stop by and say hello."

  His brows rise. "We're neighbors?"

  Shit. I probably shouldn't have said that. If he's some crazy drifter with no relation to Miller, I don't want him knowing where I live.

  I catch his eyes lowering to my body, just a quick glance, first at my tight tank then down at my short skirt.

  His eyes dart back up at my face. "Which house?"

  "It's a few miles down the road," I say, trying to be vague, but there are so few houses out here that he could easily figure it out. "Mr. Miller didn't mention his grandson was coming to town."

  "I'm not his grandson, not that it's any of your business." He looks to the side, and I'm pretty sure I saw an eye roll.

  "It's my business if you're here without Mr. Miller's permission. He's a friend and friends look out for each other."

  The guy stares at me, that intense stare like he gave me earlier. "If he's such a good friend, where is he right now?"

  "In his house." I point to it, having no idea if Mr. Miller is actually in there. "Which you would know if you were really here to see him."

  "I'm not here to see him. And he's not in his house."

  "Then where is he?" I ask, feeling more and more nervous as the guy stares at me with those deep brown eyes. It makes me want to look away, but I don't. I hold his gaze, and for some unexplained reason, feel something stirring inside me. I've heard the body can confuse danger with arousal so maybe that's why I'm feeling this way, although if that's true, it means he's dangerous. But I don't think he is, which means the arousal I'm feeling is because I'm attracted to him. Why would I be attracted to a guy who's has been nothing but rude to me?

  "He's in Florida," the guy says. "At a condo on the beach."

  "Florida?" I ask confused. "Are you sure? Because Mr. Miller isn't the type of person who travels. In fact, I doubt he's ever left Kansas."

  The guy glances over at the deserted road. "He came into some money. Thought he'd take a trip. An extended vacation." He looks back at me. "While he's gone, I'm renting his house."

  Now I'm even more confused. "Why would you rent his house? There's nothing to do in this town and there aren't any jobs. Why would you move here?"

  "I have to go." He walks off.

  "Wait." I run up to him. "What's your name?"

  He pauses, his eyes darting to the side. "Kyle."

  "Kyle what?"

  He glares at me. "Kyle. That's it."

  He wipes the sweat from his forehead and as he does, I notice a long red line along his left temple and a bump on the side of his head. The red line is dried blood but it looks like the cut is starting to break open, blood bubbling along the seam.

  "Did you get in a fight?"

  "Seriously, do the questions ever end? Are you the town gossip or what?"

  "Your head. It looks like it hurts. I just..." I reach my hand up to touch his temple and he grabs my wrist.

  "Stop." His tone is softer now, and unexpected. When he grabbed my wrist, I thought he'd yell at me to go away. But instead he shuts his eyes a moment and takes a breath. He's still holding my wrist but his grip is gentler.

  "Please." He opens his eyes and looks at me, but instead of that intense stare he gave me before, his gaze is softer, kinder, and suddenly, any fear I had of him is gone. He's not a killer. Or a criminal. I know because my gut is telling me so. And after what I've been through with my dad, I trust my gut more than my head.

  From the moment my dad showed up at my dorm room, I knew there was something not right with him. All those months when he was trying to reestablish a relationship with my mom and me, he smiled a lot and said the right things, but his words never felt sincere and he never looked us in the eye. Those should've been clues he was lying to us, along with the gut feeling I always had that told me something was up with him. But my head convinced me I could trust him. I guess because I so desperately wanted to.

  But this guy? Kyle? He's not bad. He may be angry and have bad manners and act like a complete ass, but he's not bad. I know he's not. I can feel it.

  Chapter Three

  "You need to go." Kyle releases my wrist and his arm drops to his side.

  "I have a first aid kit in my car." I point to his temple. "Would you consider letting me bandage that up?"

  He hesitates. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "I'll be quick. I promise." I look around the yard. "We don't even have to go inside. We can do it out here." Before he can answer I point to a tree stump. "Go sit over there. I'll be right back."

  Surprisingly, he does as I told him and walks over to the stump.

  I hurry to my car and grab the kit from the floor of the back seat. Then I grab the water bottle I brought him.

  When I reach the tree stump, he's sitting down, looking exhausted, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

  "Here." I hold out the water bottle.

  He takes it. "Why did you bring me this? How'd you know you'd even see me again?"

  "I didn't. But just in case, I wanted to bring you water. It's too hot to be out here walking for miles without water."

  I sit beside him and open the first aid kit, feeling Kyle's eyes on me the entire time.

  "I thought you were afraid of me," he says.

  "Why would I be afraid of you?" I rummage through the box, searching for the antibiotic cream.

  "Guy walking along a deserted road. Covered in dirt. Hasn't shaved in days. Looks like he's just been in fight. You weren't afraid of that?" His tone lightens, like he's teasing me.

  I smile slightly. "Okay, yes, I was a little afraid, but I'm not now."

  "Why not?" He turns to me. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me? A guy you don't even know who could easily hurt you."