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Authors: Arie Lane

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BOOK: Rendezvous
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By the time I reach the car again my eyes are blurry, and I feel like the weight of the world has settled on my chest. I toss the box into the passenger seat as I get back into the rental car and head north again.

Chapter 2

 

Tristan

 

I wake up in Bentley’s bed with a raging headache and a severe sense of loss. I try replaying how I got here and what happened, but for the life of me I can’t remember. There is one thing I am certain of though: Bentley was here. I can taste the cinnamon that always lingers on her lips, now on my own, and my lungs are flooded with her scent. A scent that had vacated this room some time ago yet is permeating it now. She was here, and now she isn’t. I want so badly to go back to last night, to tell her to stay. I vaguely remember her telling me she’s gone. Can I really believe she doesn’t want to be found? That’s the thing, I can’t. Maybe it’s my own selfishness, but I can’t let her go. So there’s no way I can believe she would really want me to walk away. There is one thing I do know though: Sitting in a drunken stupor isn’t going to get my baby back in my arms. She’s right, I do need to start living again or more accurately, I need to start fighting for what I want again.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, isn’t that what people say? Well I guess I’m pretty fucking desperate then. I never thought I’d use this number, as it has been in my phone for the past three years and never once have I dialed it. I told myself that Cage and I could handle this on our own, but I’m beginning to think I was lying to myself.

About three years ago, I took off after finding the girl I thought I wanted to be with at the foot of my bed on her knees playing a game of 'hide the cock' with her mouth. I couldn’t stay, not without causing physical harm to either her or Cage. I was fucking pissed off more than anything else, and decided to fuck it all and just go. It’s not like I had anything holding me there anyway.

I can’t even remember the name of the Mexican town I was in when Jacob showed up. Hell, I didn’t even know he existed. My father never spoke of my mother’s family. I never got to meet them, let alone know them. So when some dude started pounding on my door at 5:00 A.M., I was less than pleased. Apparently my mom had an older brother I never knew about and Jacob is my cousin. Aggie sent him to retrieve me. How the hell Aggie knew about him was beyond me. Though it turned out he was a tracker, one of the best in the fucking world. Where Cage is pretty good, Jacob is unstoppable. I was fucking livid when this asshole showed up on my doorstep demanding I return home. I said some shitty things to him before taking the card he handed me and slamming the door in his face.

I didn’t need family, especially not when I spent years with Aggie because I was told I had no one else. My Uncle was willing to let me go into the system rather than take me the fuck in. It wasn’t until I came back to the states and visited Aggie that I learned the truth. My father had a living will stating they were all dead. After he disappeared, they went by that document rather than actually checking.

I’ll admit I’m a prick. I didn’t care one lick that I had someone other than Aggie out there. I never thought I’d need anyone else, but I can’t find Bentley and I can’t find Darla. Jacob is the best. I know because I did my damn homework on him. Calling him is definitely a hit to my pride but fuck if I’m not elated when he says he’ll come help. So now here I am helping Aggie make a bed up for another house guest.

It isn’t but a couple hours before there is a knock on the door. I step out of the dining room to see Aggie answer and greet Jacob.

“I won’t be staying long, I just want to take a peek through her things and talk to a few people to get some information and then I’ll be gone,” he states with certainty.

Stepping forward, I shake his hand firmly, “There’s no real hurry to find Bentley...I mean...yeah...I want to know where she is and that she’s safe, but its Darla we need to find. I’m not sure what will help you locate her though, I didn’t find anything in Bentley’s belongings.”

“While I get that Darla is your priority, I can find her once I know that girl of yours is safe. I’d sleep a lot better at night knowing she’s not already being stalked. The Marshals haven’t found much to go on for Darla’s whereabouts, but I have it on good authority she never left the country. That means your Bentley isn’t safe.”

Jacob’s words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was so sure Darla had left the country, and even more certain she wouldn’t return to the states anytime soon. But now hearing that she’s here, finding her is imperative. I just need to finalize what I plan to do with her once I have her.

 

Bentley

 

It’s taken a little while, but I’ve finally settled in. I check in on Facebook every once in a while to see how everyone is. I don’t dare contact anyone, but it makes me feel closer to them, knowing what is happening in their lives. I’m happy to see that Dante and Tristan are doing better since my visit. Dante even left a shout out for me in case I saw it.

I never liked it up North, but this place is kind of magical around the holidays, so at least I have that to look forward to. It’s also nice that the locals are pretty protective of their own. They were a bit weary of me when I first bought my cabin, but that changed pretty quickly. I know the locals all pretty well now and even help out here and there when I can.

But it’s still hard to be away from the people I love. I didn’t know how difficult it would be to walk away from Tristan. I tell myself it will get easier every day, but that’s a fucking lie. It hasn’t gotten any easier at all, especially not when I know he’s out there, hopefully trying to find a way to live his life again...without me.

I was able to finish a book I’ve been meaning to wrap up since last year. I haven’t written as Lena in a long time, but now that I had to effectively become her, it made it easier. The new novel gave me a way to reconnect with some of my social networking friends that don’t know I’m Bentley. It a small solace to able to keep up with some of the things happening in the world I left behind.

I was asked by a blogger if I’d be interested in attending a book signing next month. I know I won’t be able to, but I still asked for the information anyway. It brightened my day a bit to learn that Tristan would be there with Ele, and that he had signed on with four new authors to be on their covers. I thought knowing that he was keeping busy would ease the pain in my chest, but the idea of him forgetting me isn’t something I am ready to face.

I have only been to this town a handful times. I bought my cabin here years ago and usually come up around the holidays when Dante goes back home to visit his family. I know a few of the locals pretty well and have grown fairly close to Tony over the years. He is like the big brother I always wanted, but never had. Whenever he notices me getting unwanted attention, he puffs his chest out and pushes the fuckers away.

He’s great like that.

I don’t see Tony as I step into the bistro he owns. Instead, there is a preppy looking guy behind the counter trying his luck with a couple of college girls. I take my normal seat and look over the menu, not that I need to. I almost always order the same thing. When I deviate, it is only because Tony insists. Pretty boy must have gotten rejected because the girls are walking out the door and he is sauntering over to my table.

“Hey there little lady,” He croons while sitting across from me. “I think my night just got lucky.”

I look up from the folder, check him over once, and return to my menu. “I don’t know what you think is lucky about it. You just got shot down by two girls who are probably even hornier than you are, and you’re attempting to run your cheesy game on me. If anything, I’d say your luck is shit.”

“Aww, come on now. Don’t be like that. No girl eats dinner alone unless she’s looking to hook up,” he replies, before taking inventory of our surroundings. “I don’t see anyone coming to join you, therefore you’re either hard up or you’re playing hard to get. So which one is it sweetheart? Because I can scratch any itch you might have.”

I laugh at the idiocy of his statement. “I’m not hard up and as far as being hard to get, I’m damn near impossible. While we’re on that subject though…” I say leaning across the table. “I can probably get more satisfaction out of my pinky here than I could from the few measly inches your packing. I can tell from here you’re hard, yet you’re barely even making a dent in those 1950s style pleated pants you’re wearing. Where the fuck do you shop? You look like you borrowed your wardrobe from Mr. Rogers.”

“Damn. You know, I like my women feisty. I bet you’re a kinky little vixen in the sack. You can sit there and say 'no' to me all you want, but I can have your body screaming 'yes' in minutes.”

“The closest thing you’ve probably ever come to kinky is talking dirty to your hand as you’re using it to fuck yourself. Now if you don’t mind, why don’t you go waddle back behind that counter and daydream yourself up some girl who’d give you the time of day. Because the only way some pansy ass pipsqueak like you is getting a girl to scream is if you’re paying her to do it.”

I want to say so much more, but Tony chose this as a good moment to grace us with his presence. The dipshit sitting across from me was trying to think up something witty to say as Tony cracked him upside the back of his head. It took all of three seconds for that horny little fucker to vacate his seat.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here for a few more weeks. Everything going okay?” he asks with concern in his voice.

I assure him that everything is fine, and that I just decided to take an extended vacation. I know he doesn’t believe the bullshit story I feed him, but he doesn’t push me on it either. If there is one thing he understands, it’s that I value my privacy.

Chapter 3

 

Tristan

 

An author signing is the last thing I would have planned, but Ele asked me to come with her and Aggie thinks it would be good for me. I don’t have the heart to disappoint the woman, so I hope going makes her happy. I smile as I think of the first time I met Bentley. It was at a signing all too much like this one. I know she won’t be here, but just maybe someone will let her know I’m trying to live again. I am surprised to see so many authors who I know she had been on friendly terms with, and I can’t help but ask if any of them had been in contact with her.

It has been two months since the night she tucked me into her bed while I was drunk off my ass. Two months and not another sign of contact. Even Dante hasn’t heard from her again. I ask half a dozen authors with no success. Just as I am about to ask another, Ele grabs by arm.

“Tristan, you need to stop. None of them know where Bentley is. Hun, she doesn’t want them to know.”

Staring at Ele digging her nails into my arm, I start to get defensive, “Ele, damn it! Someone has to know where she is. Bentley didn’t just drop off the face of the earth. Someone has to still be in contact with her.”

“Tristan, please, I’m begging you to stop this. She asked you to move on. Don’t you think you should respect her wishes? She doesn’t want to be found. You need to let her go now.”

I know Ele is only looking out for my best interest
s
. We’ve been friends for a few years now, but if she believes how I feel about Bentley, she wouldn’t be trying to hold me back. I turn back around to find the author that Bentley sat next to at the last signing. Taking a step forward, Ele digs her fingers deep into my wrist and seethes at me through gritted teeth.

“Why can’t you just leave this the fuck alone? Don’t you get it? She doesn’t want you. I’m sorry Tristan. I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but Bentley has moved on. She’s found someone new and it’s time you do also.”

Her words catch me completely off guard. What the fuck does she mean Bentley moved on. With whom? The woman never dated in twenty-seven years and all of a sudden she’s become a tramp? Bullshit! I don’t believe it.

“What the hell are you talking about Electra? What do you mean she’s moved on? Are you in touch with her? You know where the fuck she is and you never said anything? You’re supposed to be my fucking friend! How the hell could you keep something like that from me? How long, Ele? How fucking long have you been in contact with her? You’re just now telling me she’s over me?”

I’ve never raised my voice to Ele before, but then I’ve never been this fucking ticked off. How the fuck could she keep this from me? All this time, I’ve been trying to find the girl I love. The one who slipped through my fucking fingers, and she’s with someone else? No fucking way!

“I’m sorry Tristan,” she replied while planting a kiss dangerously close to my lips. “I swear I wanted to tell you. I promised Bentley I wouldn’t tell anyone that I was in contact with her. I just can’t stand to see you broken like this.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about Ele, but you need to shut the fuck up right now. Bentley wouldn’t pull shit like that on me. No way in fucking hell do I believe my girl is stepping out. She walked the fuck away because of Darla. She’s not some inconsiderate bitch who would hook up with someone else, endangering him, just for the fucking hell of it. If that were the case, she wouldn’t have fucking left me.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it isn’t you she was stepping out on? Maybe Bentley isn’t as sweet and fucking innocent as you think she is. You told me yourself that she disappeared for days at a time last year. That doesn’t make you even a little suspicious? Who walks away from her man without telling him a word?”

“Bentley and I weren’t together when that happened. She was still determined to hate my fucking guts then. And what does that have to do with now? You think she spent all that time fucking me when she was with someone else? Bullshit Ele! You’re a fucking liar.”

“If I’m lying then how come she hasn’t let you know she’s okay? She’s moved the fuck on, and you’re too damn blind to realize it. It’s been how many months, Tristan? Don’t you think it’s about time you let go? You act as if she has a golden pussy or something. She’s nothing more than another warm hole to stick your dick in. Get the fuck over her.”

It takes all the energy I have not to wring Ele’s neck for that comment. I want to slap the shit out of her…I want to scream, but I have no reply. So I just walk the fuck away. I hate to admit that Ele’s words fucking got to me, but the truth is they did. What if Bentley really is with someone else? I should call Jacob and tell him to leave it alone. Though at the very least, if she is with someone else, I want to know. No, I need to know. I need an answer as to what the fuck this dickhead that Ele mentioned has that makes him more worthy of her. Why would she choose to be with someone else over me?

 

Bentley

 

Whenever I stay in this town, I always use my pen name that I first started out with, Lena Jade. If my mother were looking really hard, she’d be able to find me. At least one would think since the name is made up of both Cora and my middle names, but I doubt my mother even remembers we have middle names.

Taking my usual seat at the bar, I daydream while Tony grabs me an iced tea and puts my order in. I’m lucky because Tony is from the South. I love him for that alone, but even more because the man makes a mean tray of fried pickles. Sadly, I think I’m the only one in town who orders them, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Taking out my notebook, I start jotting down the ideas I have for my next book. With the holidays quickly approaching, I want to release a festive romance. Seeing the couples around town shopping and cuddling creates the perfect atmosphere for a good romance novel. I’m deep in thought, scribbling a million miles a minute, when a voice next to me startles me from my concentration.

“Hi there, it’s not often a pretty little thing like you is found without company. Surely you can’t be all alone?”

Looking up, I see Tony shooting daggers into the guy sitting next to me. That’s another thing I love about him and this town. The people are very protective. Tony knows a bit of my history so he’s even more so than others. Turning to see the man sitting next to me, I’m damn near tipped off my axis, too stunned for words. He’s hotter than a two dollar pistol with his golden brown hair lightly curling, well-muscled framed with tattoos that run down his arm and peek out from under the sleeve of his polo, and a smile that would make most women’s panties melt on spot. I swear it’s like seeing a fucking ghost. He has those same tropical blue eyes as Tristan, and for a moment, I’m lost in them.

I’m in an unusually good mood, so I don’t hold it against him that the asshole from the other night tried almost the exact same shit on me. That and the sense of familiarity he instills in me is nerve wracking. After a couple of moments trying to gather myself, I finally find my voice. “Sorry…uh, I actually prefer to be alone. It’s a bit hard to get any work done when you have someone else in your company.” I stutter, and hope he takes the hint and leaves it at that, but he continues talking.

“I see. Well Miss, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t offer to accompany you during dinner. Seeing as there’s no man here with you, I’m sure you can spare a few minutes away from your work to enjoy some company. Tell me something, Miss. Does your boyfriend always leave you alone in the evening? Or are you still on the market? I don’t see a ring on your finger so I assume you aren’t completely spoken for.”

Feeling the blush rising in my cheeks, I try to hide my face as I answer.

“No I’m not married. I am spoken for, however. Like I said, I prefer to be left alone so I can do my work. That often means leaving me alone during the evenings. As far as joining me for dinner, I really must decline. I’m afraid I’d be rather bad company. Honestly, I’m just not interested. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll find more than a few attractive women around here willing to take you up on your offer.”

I turn back to my notebook hoping that my polite decline will get him to leave me alone. Apparently, anything short of telling him to fuck off doesn't get him to take the hint.

He chuckles as he eyes me once over. ‘I’m sure there are plenty, but I doubt any of them look like you do. I might have to give your so-called boyfriend a run for his money.”

Now I was pissed. You can annoy the shit out of me all you want. And Tristan may no longer be with me physically, but in my eyes he is still mine, and no one is going to fucking talk shit about him.

“Look, I’m not really in the mood for some ass wipe to sit here and talk shit about my man. I made it pretty fucking obvious that I’m not interested, so how about you pick your lily licking southern boy ass up before I have to kick it back to wherever it is you picked up that drawl. Because as much as you’re working that southern boy charm card, I’m not buying it. And before you tell me you’re just trying to compliment me, I’m not at all flattered by the fact that you find me attractive, since you probably spend your days deciding which farm animal you’re going to fuck come sun down. So that’s not really saying much there,
buddy
.” I sassed.

I watch as his jaw practically hits the floor. I doubt he’ll find a comeback for what I’ve just said, and while everyone within earshot is laughing their asses off, I am hoping he attempts a graceful exit, and gets the hell away from me.

“Well then Miss, perhaps another time. I’m Jacob by the way.” I watch as he extends his hand in my direction. “I didn’t catch your name.”

With a small resigning sigh, I turn slightly to him not taking his hand. “I don’t recall offering my name. But if it makes you walk away, then by all means, I’m Lena. Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get the fuck back to work.”

Thanking some small star must be shining down on me, this Jacob character finally vacates the seat next to me. I try to settle back into my notebook, but the experience left me feeling less than lovey dovey. Something about him just felt off and the feeling of walking on eggshells is never a pleasant one. I sit quietly eating my pickles and watching between my notebook and window where a heavy snow has started to fall.

I don’t want to get stuck here in this weather, so I nearly down the rest of my food and head out to the Jeep Liberty I purchased when I arrived here. I would much rather be in my Mustang but with the cloth roof, it’s not really practical in the cold weather. By the time I reach the cabin, the snow has picked up a bit more and the temperature is now biting. It’s one of the things I hate about the North. A half hour can mean a twenty degree drop in temperature, especially in the winter. It’s also the reason I opted for a cabin with a fireplace. If I have to endure the cold, I can at least do it while watching a fire light up my living room.

BOOK: Rendezvous
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