Just My Luck (The Kings)

I pulled my truck down the long driveway toward Sullivan Farms. Duke’s three-legged hound dog shot out of the tree line and chased my truck, making circles and barking as I got closer to the farmhouse.

I dodged the dog and looked behind it. “Is that a . . . duck?”

Royal flicked his hand. “Apparently they’re a bonded pair. Cute, right?”

I ignored my brother as the truck came to a stop. On the steps of my sister’s farmhouse, Duke Sullivan stood, his arms across his chest, and stared. His brother Lee was beside him with a wide grin.

I opened my door and stood on the floorboard, looking at them over the roof of the truck. “Get in. I’ll explain on the way.”

The two nodded and climbed into the back seat without another word. In any other scenario, it would have been comical to see the four of us crammed into my truck.

Duke sensed my unease, and his fist clenched. “Are we calling in the cavalry? I can have Beckett and Wyatt here in five.”

I shook my head. “This is enough. We’re not doing anything stupid—I don’t think—just making sure someone understands who he’s fucking with.”

“Who is it?” Duke asked.

“My money is on the prick who burned Sloane’s house down and nearly killed her kid.” Anger clung to the edges of Lee’s words as he stared out the window.

My eyes flew to him in the rearview mirror. Lee had been there the night Bax’s farmhouse burned to the ground. He saved Ben when the boy had panicked and hid in a closet.

Fear and anguish clutched my chest.

I didn’t realize it before now, but I fucking owed Lee.

“Do you know that it was him who caused the fire?” Duke asked, always the voice of reason.

“We don’t know for sure,” I answered. “I have my suspicions, and I’m getting answers. I still have a contact from prison that can probably do some digging for me. A guy like her ex doesn’t do his own dirty work.”

“So what the hell are we doing?” Duke asked.

Royal shifted in his seat. “Delivering a message. Sloane’s asshole ex is going after the kids.” He shook his head. “After everything she’s been through.”

We drove up the highway, and I pulled the truck to a stop in front of the Grand Harbor Hotel.

Lee whistled as he looked up at the wide, arching windows. “Fancy.”

With lakefront views and private villas, the Grand Harbor was a boutique waterfront hotel. It oozed old money and dripped with the kind of quiet luxury that only the wealthy experienced when vacationing in Western Michigan. After Sloane had spotted Jared in town, I had paid Bootsy to keep a lookout. Within days he had gotten wind that Jared hadn’t gone far and was hiding out at the Grand Harbor.

No more hiding.

When we exited my truck, we paused and stared up at the hotel. “What’s the plan?” Royal asked.

I steadied my voice. “I’m having a conversation.” I slammed my door closed and headed into the lobby.

As luck would have it, Sloane’s piece-of-shit ex was standing, dumbfounded, near the reception desk as the four of us walked in. I took in his drab khakis and crisply pressed button-down. He looked more suited for a symposium discussing the riveting topic of corporate tax code revisions than an upscale destination hotel.

I pointed at him and surged forward. “Get the fuck outside.”

The receptionist’s eyes bounced between Jared and the wall of men standing behind me. Her hand hovered over the telephone, but Royal smiled at her and gently shook his head. “Nope.”

Her unsteady hand slowly retreated and disappeared behind the desk.

Panic flashed in Jared’s eyes. He was stuck—trapped like a rat with no way out. He squared his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I lifted my chin. “You walk your ass outside and we talk, or we can have this conversation with all these eyes on you.” I swirled my finger in the air, and Jared took in the gaping stares and whispering voices from the other hotel guests and workers.

He shifted and straightened his shirt. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He was.

I could feel it.

Jared’s chin jutted into the air. “You lay one finger on me and I’ll personally send you straight back to prison. You’ll never see the light of day again if I have anything to do with it.”

My molars ground together. “Outside.”

I turned, walking through Duke, Lee, and Royal to stand on the entryway outside of the hotel. Jared followed with the three of them in tow.

Before he could open his mouth, I jabbed a finger into Jared’s chest. “You listen to me, you motherfucker. I know what you did. I’ll prove it if it’s the last fucking thing I do. In the meantime, you leave town. If you don’t, I will find out about it. You don’t talk to her. You don’t look at her. You don’t breathe the same air as her. Stay the fuck away from my wife.”

A slick smile spread over his face. “It doesn’t matter if I leave or not. You really think a judge isn’t going to have reservations about her moving the kids in with a convicted murderer?”

A ripple of shame hummed through my blood as it ran cold. I couldn’t change what happened on that dark, lonely stretch of highway. Now it was haunting me and threatened to take away the very thing that had brought me back to life.

My fist clenched and my arm reared back.

Before my punch could land, Lee’s fist landed with a crack against Jared’s jaw.

“Oh, fuck!” Lee shook his hand and laughed.

Fucking laughed.

Jared howled as he crumpled to the ground in pain.

I stared at Lee Sullivan in shock as he bounced on his heels and looked down at Jared. “You almost got your own son killed, you selfish prick.” He shook his hand again and looked at Duke. “Fuck, that hurt!”

Royal gripped Lee’s shoulder and guided him toward my truck. “Come on. Let’s get some ice.”

Duke spat on the ground next to Jared, glaring down at him. “You picked the wrong family to fuck with. You’re common enemy number one now.”

Surprised appreciation barely registered as Duke gestured with a nod for us to get going. We left Jared struggling to get to his knees as we climbed into my truck. From behind me, Lee squeezed my shoulder.

“Sorry I stole your thunder, but I’ve been wanting to do that since the fire, and I figured it probably isn’t a good idea for you to assault anyone.”

“Thank you.” I looked around the truck. “Seriously. I appreciate you being here.”

Duke nodded. “Don’t mention it. Now let’s get back before we have to explain to the cops what we’re all doing here.”

Without another word, I pulled out of the parking space and headed away from the hotel. My brain ran through what happened over and over again. Still, not all the pieces fit.

I was nearly silent when we dropped Duke and Lee back off at Sullivan Farms. As Duke opened his door, I leaned over. “Tell my sister I’m sorry to have dragged you into this.”

He glanced at his house with a soft smile. “I have a feeling I might get a pass on this one.” He tapped the side of the truck and closed the door.

Back on the road toward town, Royal broke the tense silence. “I think he got the message, don’t you?”

My jaw tightened. “I sure hope so.” Frustration bubbled inside me. I should have fucking hit him. “He knew about the accident and my time in prison. Dad did his best to kill the story in the local papers, but it was all still public record. It’s what he’s using against Sloane.”

Royal shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t be unusual for him to dig it up, then.” I could feel my brother’s assessing eyes on me as I drove. “What else has got you doing mental gymnastics?” His finger looped in circles next to his ear. “I know it’s more than just a shitty ex digging up dirt.”

I sighed, not sure where to even begin to explain the odd, unsettling feeling I had. “I need to make a few calls and see if he has contacts on the inside. Someone feeding information or maybe even someone who was willing to do his bidding. If I can prove he was behind the fire, he’ll leave her alone for good.”

My hand scraped over my jaw. “Did you see what he was wearing? A man wearing boat loafers and no socks doesn’t burn down houses and risk the lives of their own children. They use their money and power to do it for them.”

It was scary how easily I could have been talking about my own father instead of Sloane’s ex-husband.

Royal frowned. “Prison calls are recorded. Any contact with the inside doesn’t look good for you. Didn’t your parole officer recommend you cut all ties?”

Frustrated, my hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing.” I glanced at my brother. “I know a guy on the outside I can talk to. It’s worth the risk.”

The rest of the trip back to Royal’s tattoo parlor was spent in strained silence. It would be only a matter of time before the news of what happened spread like wildfire through our small town. It wasn’t every day the Sullivans and Kings rallied together and got into a fight with someone else.

When Royal exited the truck, I sat in painful, tortured silence. I weighed my options. Finally, I unlocked my phone and typed in a number from memory.

I need information.

UNKNOWN NUMBERPlease check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

’Bout time.

Now?

I sat back against the seat. My head throbbed. I pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets and willed the pressure to release. When my phone buzzed, I glanced at the message and sighed. The meetup was happening.

I sent Oliver the location, then flipped my phone onto the passenger seat and left Outtatowner fading in my rearview mirror. On the outskirts of our quiet little town, I pulled to a stop near a hidden clearing nestled within the dense thicket. Impatiently, I waited for my unexpected reunion with the past I thought I’d left behind.

The setting sun slanted golden light over the tall grass. The air hummed with the soft whispers of the wind. I had chosen this secluded spot to escape prying eyes and communicate without judgment. The scent of pine mingled with the earthy fragrance of damp soil.

The crunch of gravel under tires announced the arrival of my former cellmate, a man I once shared a confined space with, but never truly knew. Dressed in unassuming gray slacks and a white button-down shirt, Oliver appeared more suited for a corporate boardroom than the depths of a prison cell. His slender frame moved with an agile grace, the setting sun revealing sharp features. A cascade of dark hair fell over his forehead, framing a pair of intense blue eyes that betrayed the man beneath the polished facade. It was no wonder that at one time, he was practically the mayor of the Muskegon Correctional Facility.

Despite the time spent apart, his handshake carried the same controlled strength, a silent testament to the resilience we both clung to in our separate worlds.

He leaned against my truck. “What do you need?”

I leaned next to him, looking out onto the open field, and exhaled. “There’s this woman . . .”

Oliver’s barking laugh cracked through the air. “It’s always a woman, my friend.”

I shrugged him off. “We’ve got some issues with her ex.”

“Need him to disappear?” The seriousness in his tone was chilling. I looked at Oliver as he grinned.

I shook my head. “Jesus. No. I need information. A while back the house she was living in burned down. An investigation ruled it arson. Trouble is, this guy—her ex-husband—isn’t really the hands-on type. I have a theory that he hired someone—someone willing to take the fall if the price was right.”

Oliver dragged a hand across his clean-shaven jaw. “I got you. That would be a lot of money. A payday like that is hard to keep quiet.”

I nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

Oliver kicked off my truck and faced me. “Well, you’re in luck. I can ask some questions personally. I’m headed back.”

I frowned at him. “Again?”

He rolled his eyes as if going back to prison was simply interrupting his weekend plans. “I got pinched for intentionally damaging by knowing transmission. Apparently putting a tiny little bug on a public official’s personal computer to prove he’s into kiddie porn is frowned upon.”

His exaggerated eye roll and air quotes were almost comical if it weren’t for the fact he wasn’t taking his upcoming sentencing seriously.

He leveled me with his steely stare. “I tried to stay straight, but those bills don’t pay themselves, you know what I mean?”

I held out my hand. “Call me when you know anything. And when you get out, I’ll have a job at the brewery waiting for you.” I pointed at him. “I expect to hear from you.”

He nodded rhythmically, and his lips pressed together in a small smile. “You will. You will.”

I pulled him in for a quick hug. “Be safe and be smart.”

Oliver sauntered back to his car like he didn’t have a care in the world. I only hoped his contacts on the inside proved insightful. If we could prove Jared was behind the fire, we just might have a fighting chance, but if Sloane lost her kids . . . fuck.

We would lose everything.