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Chapter 20

The oppressive building loomed in front of me like the gallows, and paranoia weighed my shoulders down as I approached. Probation department was spelled out in blunt, harsh, black lettering across the ashen block. My eyes darted about, ears primed for the sound of a throttle, praying I wouldn't hear one.

But I had more than just the club to worry about. Officer Jones was not one to be fooled, and I was about to walk into his office looking fresh out of a drunk tank.

I kept my pace neutral, neither too slow, nor quick. Nonchalant. I'm not nervous at all, I lied to myself, hoping it would bleed into my outward appearance. I highly doubted it was working.

When I stepped through the doors, my eyes immediately shot to the reception desk, to the bullet proof glass, and the woman who always sat behind it. Her head lifted, and I was once again struck by how absolutely miserable she looked. Like some cartoon villain. Her face a permanent scowl, she conjured images of dead puppies lying at her feet and mermaids tied up under the counter.

I approached her.

"Sign in. Take a seat." She shoved a clipboard through the window and clicked away at her keyboard, probably emailing Satan.

Not bothering to respond, I wrote my name down and took my usual place in one of the hard wooden chairs.

My nerves tingled beneath my skin. The musty aroma and general depressing atmosphere hit me every time. It caused my fingers to curl in on themselves, and made each one of my muscles to tighten and hold.

The man behind the first door in the hall held my life in his hands. He was the hangman, holding the lever that decided whether I lived or died. Sitting in that cheap, waiting room chair was like standing on the podium with the rope hung loosely around my neck.

Only one other person occupied the lobby. He was seated across from me, waiting his turn. Every couple of seconds he'd clear his throat, on and on and on. Clearing his damn throat. It echoed through the room, each time a grate against my already shot nerves.

I took deep breaths and gripped the arms of my chair. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore, but each time he did it, my teeth would clench a little tighter.

He did it again. Loud and deep. The base to it sent images of mucus playing across my eyelids. I gagged.

He did it again.

I lost it. "For fuck's sake! Can somebody give this guy a fucking cough drop?"

I awoke the kraken. The wicked receptionist zeroed in on me with laser eyes and ill intent. "Is there a problem?"

"Nope." I'm a fucking idiot. "I was just trying to help the guy out," I said, voice overly polite. My eyes shot to the man, and I smiled at him.

He didn't return the gesture, but he did stop clearing his throat.

Thank God.

"Jessie Murphy!" Officer Jones' voice echoed out like the crack of a whip. I looked up to see the monster of a man standing inside his doorway.

He was a mountain, with dark mahogany skin and a head shiny enough to see myself in. He glared over at me with clear contempt.

I was quick to stand and walk towards his office. "Good afternoon, sir," I said, once again overly polite, as I took the seat in front of his desk.

I'd been in his office quite a few times, and it always looked the same. Plain brown wooden desk, bare except for the placard reading Officer Jones. A photo of a pretty woman smiling with a little boy, I assumed his wife and son. A laptop, and... a bowl of candy.

I eyed the bowl of candy.

It wasn't there for me.

"Let's cut the bullshit shall we," he began, voice gruff. His chair let out a groan as his massive size pushed it to its limit. He noticed my eyes on the candy bowl, and reached one large baseball glove of a hand forward to jerk it out of sight.

He grunted. "You look rough."

"Thank you, sir."

Another grunt, eyes hard, judging. "Have you been applying for jobs?"

I pulled the needed paper out of my bag and handed it to him.

He snatched the document and scanned, then slapped it down on the desk. "Still don't have one?"

"Actually, I got a job." God, it's nice to say that to his fucking ass. That's right. I. Got. A. Job.

Asshole.

He didn't look excited. Then again, the man never looked anything. His expression, his posture, his stare, all of it. Granite. Stone cold.

Those dark eyes bore into me, and I couldn't maintain the contact. I looked around the room. A photo of him in a police uniform with a man at his side, holding some kind of award. Another frame, full of what looked like military medals.

The window in the upper corner, small and out of place. No curtains, but bars lined the inside. Who the hell would want to break into the probation office?

"Where is the job?"

"It's at a tattoo shop. Cutthroat Ink."

"Zeke?"

My eyes snapped to his. "Yes... That's the man that hired me."

He leaned back in his seat, and the leather groaned as if the chair itself was screaming for help. "That's good."

I blanched. Did Officer Jones just say something was good? Like... in a positive way? Not negative at all?

"Good?"

"Yes. That's good, don't be stupid and mess it up." His tone slipped back to biting.

"Okay?"

He waved a dismissive hand. "You're free to go."

My mouth fell open. That was quick, unusually so. I stood, movements slow, looking unsure as I exited the room.

"Oh, and Jessie!" he barked before I could reach the door.

I turned back. "Yes, sir?"

"Have a piece of candy." His eyes stayed glued to his computer screen, the bowl of candy held out stiffly in my direction.

I stared at the dish. Now, Officer Jones, is going to give me some of the No-you-can't-have-any candy? I didn't think I'd ever been offered a piece of candy so angrily in my life.

I stepped forward and took a piece, similar to the way a mouse would steal cheese from the trap.

"Thank you, sir." The words were barely a breath, and no sooner did they pass my lips, I darted from the room.

When I tore out the front doors, Bard was still parked along the curb. My steps were quick and anxious, and I fumbled with the door when I got inside.

He shot me a curious look before scanning the area. "Did you see something?"

"No. Just drive."

Bard revved the monster of an engine to life and sped off in the direction of the shop.

The drive was silent, but as soon as we pulled up behind the motorhome, Bard cut the ignition and turned to me. "What happened back there?" he asked, eyes probing. Always searching.

"He gave me a piece of candy." I stared at the golden wrapped butterscotch in my palm.

Bard continued to study me.

"He found out I was working here, and he gave me candy. He knew Zeke."

"I'm not following you, Tequila." A familiar shiver ran through me at the sound of his voice.

"He's never given me the candy before. It's always just sat there. I've never been worthy of his precious fucking candy." My voice grew more aggressive towards the end. "Then, I told him about this job, and all of a sudden I was. He gave me one."

Bard still had a strange look on his face. "So what? That's shitty candy, anyway."

I looked at him then. His eyes were darting between my face and the small sweet in my hand. He seemed more confused than I was, which probably made sense.

I laughed. "It really is shitty candy."

Bard grinned at me. "You want some candy?"

"You sounded real creepy asking me that."

His smile widened. "Considering you're already in the car, it would be kind of pointless to try and kidnap you now."

"True."

He revved the engine back to life.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to go get some candy."

"I don't need candy," I insisted, gripping the dashboard as the car lurched forward.

His response was to reach across the space between us and snatch the butterscotch out of my hand.

I looked back as he tossed it out the window. "Hey!"

"We don't need that asshole's candy. I'll get you better candy." He shifted gears and propelled us forward at an alarming rate.

"I don't want to die over candy!" I gripped the dash harder.

He rumbled a laugh. "Drive it like you stole it. That's what you said." He did a burn out into the parking lot of the same grocery store I'd applied to, pulled into the first empty space, then turned to me. "I take direction well." He smiled, head bent and tilted up at me. It put his face at a very appealing angle.

I stared down at him, and the urge to press my lips to his was far more tempting than it should have been.

Nope. I turned away and all but jumped from the car.

Bard followed behind like a wolf trailing its prey. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, too intense.

I made it through the sliding doors, found Lexy behind the counter, and was once again floored by how different she looked to the girl I'd seen the night before. It reminded me of myself. How many times had someone thought the same of me when I put forth my college girl persona?

Her eyes widened, and I paused to let Bard catch up. "Why does she look so surprised?"

He didn't answer.

Was he that much of a hermit, seeing him at a store was a shock? Even hermits needed groceries. I hadn't seen any chickens around the RV, and I highly doubted Bard laid those eggs himself.

"Hey, Jessie... Bard?" Lexy greeted as we drew closer.

Bard didn't bother with a hello. "Where's the candy?"

She lifted a brow. "Candy?"

"Yes," he said, dragging the word out. "Like sugary shit that people eat."

"You want candy?" She crossed her arms and scanned him from head to toe.

Bard looked towards the ceiling. "Never mind. Thanks." He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him.

My stupid brain automatically noted how rough his palm was. I imagined how it would feel if he ran it down my back, up my arms. It was too intimate. Too close. Why was he holding my hand? Why was I even here letting him buy me candy? I tried to pull my arm back, but Bard's grip was like iron.

"Let go," I said to his back.

Bard cast a glance over his shoulder, then released my hand and continued on searching the aisles.

When we came upon a row filled with nothing but different types of delicious dental suicide, he asked, "What kind?"

"You don't have to buy me candy," I insisted.

He ignored me. "What kind do you like?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why wouldn't I?" His eyes held mine, a challenge swimming within their depths. "I'm a man, and you're a woman. I want to buy you candy."

He wants to buy me candy. That's how it starts. Gifts. Sweet words. "I don't like candy."

His chest rumbled, then in a flash, he turned away and pulled bag after bag of candy from the shelf and stuffed it into his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"You're bound to like one of these."

"Why are you so insistent on getting me candy?"

He stopped, arms loaded to full capacity. "Why are you so insistent on not letting me?"

"It's..." There were a million reasons, and I had a feeling he knew most of them. If I were to list them all, we'd be there all day. "It's inappropriate."

He barked a laugh, eyes shining, smile wide. "C'mon, Tequila." He shook his head as he passed me, arms so full I felt like he'd drop something.

I followed him like a pouting child.

Bard threw the candy on the front counter, and Lexy's mouth hung open like a dead fish.

"These are things I'd like to buy," he said. "You need to scan them and take money."

"I know how to scan candy. I'm just not used to scanning it for you." She took a bag and pushed it across the scanner, then grabbed the next. "I wasn't aware that you were capable of even being awake this time of day, let alone buy something other than eggs, orange juice, or alcohol."

The whole time she spoke, her eyes kept darting up. To Bard, then me, then back again. When she finally had it all finished, Bard handed her his money and stormed away without the change.

I hurried after him. "So, that back there..."

"She's not the brightest."

When we made it to the Camaro, Bard deposited the bags into my lap then paused.

He sat back, body turned slightly in my direction, and stared at me. Really stared at me. His attention moved from the candy to my face, expression thoughtful.

I shifted under the scrutiny. "What?"

"I like sweet things." He didn't smile, didn't smirk. His gaze roamed again, from my face to my lap and everything in between.

Just when I was sure my heart would explode, he took a deep breath in through his nose, shook his head once, then turned forward and revved the engine to life.

I kept my eyes fixed on the dash as I tried to slow my racing pulse.

He's going to give me a heart attack.

My gaze lowered down to the massive amount of chocolate. Any and every brand I could possibly think of.

And cavities. Lots and lots of cavities.

Hope you enjoyed!
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Next upload in a couple days. Friday's and Saturday's are kinda hectic for me.