Beautiful Sacrifice Read online

  "That's kind of cool." I sat next to him, stretching my legs out in front of me. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I sat down. "It's always a big party, huh?"

  "I guess."

  "I figured you'd talk about your job."

  "It's a job. When's your birthday?" Taylor asked.

  "Oh, are we doing Twenty Questions?"

  He feigned exasperation. "A form of it, I guess."

  "It's not just a job. You save lives, homes, entire towns."

  He waited for me to answer, unfazed.

  "My birthday isn't on a holiday."

  He waited.

  I rolled my eyes. "May thirteenth."

  "Do you have any siblings?"

  "Nope."

  "Your parents' only child hates them. That sucks."

  "Yep."

  "Wow. I thought you were going to deny hating them. Do you really hate them?"

  "I think so." The irony wasn't lost on me that I had answered almost immediately with no thinking at all.

  "Can I ask why?"

  I sighed. The other part of the game I'd started long before Twenty Questions was not to give too much away while still seeming to play along. "I guess you had the perfect childhood."

  "Not at all."

  "Enough love for your mom to tattoo her name on your arm."

  "My brother wanted to, so I had to, too."

  "And why is that?"

  "We have the same tattoos."

  "Like the exact same ones? All of you?"

  "Just my brother Tyler and me."

  I snorted. "Taylor and Tyler."

  He laughed, too. "Thomas, Trenton, and Travis, too."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're not serious."

  He shrugged. "She liked Ts."

  "Clearly. So ... your parents are still in Eakins?"

  "Yep."

  "What's Illinois like?"

  He blinked, unhappy for some reason. "I don't know. Eakins is pretty suburban, I guess."

  "Like here?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head. "It's really, really small. We have only one grocery store, a few restaurants, and a couple of bars."

  "And a tattoo parlor?"

  "Yeah. My brother works there--Trenton. He's really good."

  "Does he do all of yours?"

  "All but one." Taylor held out his arm and pointed to the tattoo that read Diane.

  "Why not that one?"

  Taylor stood up. "That's more than twenty."

  He held out his hand to help me up. I pulled on him and then brushed off my pants.

  "I don't think so, but we should head back if you want to see other touristy stuff."

  He looked around and then shook his head. "No. I'm good with just hiking this trail. Unless you're hungry or something?"

  I looked at Taylor. He was a little too sweet, somewhat courteous, and even thoughtful at times, all safely hidden away behind his smart mouth and his tough tattooed exterior.

  He cocked his head. "What?"

  "Nothing. You're just ... not what I thought ... I think."

  "Great. Now, you're in love with me. I'll never get rid of you."

  My nose wrinkled. "I am definitely not and never will be."

  "Promise?" he asked, smug.

  "Yes, and unlike you, I keep my promises."

  "Good. Makes things a lot less complicated now that you've been friend-zoned." He playfully pushed me forward, and I pushed him back. "Onward."

  We were almost back to the truck as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The temperature had dropped from sweltering to refreshing, and the sweat that had beaded on my skin was cooling in the light evening breeze.

  Somewhere ahead, music was floating in the air, and smells of food tipped off a party.

  "Oh," I said, "the fund-raiser is tonight."

  "Here?" Taylor said.

  "Every year. For the ..." I scanned Taylor from head to toe. "It's the Heroes Gala, raising money for the families of fallen firefighters."

  A look of appreciation came over Taylor's face. "That's kind of cool."

  Just when the lights and people came into view, I froze. "Shit ... shit."

  "What?"

  "My parents are there. They attend it every year."

  "So, we'll go around it."

  "It's dark," I sighed. "We should stay on the trail. People get lost out here."

  He grabbed my hand. "We'll hurry past it. My truck's just beyond that boulder."

  I nodded, and we rushed toward an enormous white tent with hanging lights, the sound of a generator mixing with excited chatter and laughter.

  We had nearly made it when I heard William's voice calling my name. I closed my eyes and felt Taylor squeezing my hand.

  "Falyn?" William said again.

  We turned, and when William recognized Taylor and then saw our hands, he puffed out his chest, already preparing to lose his temper. Blaire joined us, the swishing of her long gown coming to a halt once she took her husband's arm. The expression on her face was familiar, one I had begun to relish.

  "Falyn, dear, what are you doing here?" she asked.

  "It's a public place," I said, angry.

  By the term of endearment, she had revealed herself. She'd only call me those asinine pet names in front of her friends, the fake ones who she'd ruthlessly trash in the privacy of her home. I wasn't welcome, and she wanted me to leave sooner rather than later.

  People were beginning to crowd around my parents, like a small army of judgmental assholes, all listening in to make sure they could hear the juicy details to discuss at the next dinner party.

  I began to turn, but William quickly approached. "This has got to stop. You--"

  "Dad," I said, my voice saccharine sweet, "you remember Taylor Maddox. He's from Eakins, Illinois."

  William blanched.

  Blaire touched her fingers to her chest. "Bill," she said, reaching for her husband, "leave Falyn to her friend. Good night, sweetheart."

  "We'll discuss this later," William said, turning his back on me.

  I pulled Taylor to the truck, desperate to get into the passenger seat. Once Taylor was sitting beside me, I yanked on the seat belt, feeling like I could finally breathe once it clicked.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  "I think so."

  "What was that about?"

  I shook my head.

  "Falyn," he said, hesitation in his voice, "why do they care that I'm from Eakins?"

  "Because they don't want me anywhere near there."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I could cause a lot of trouble for a lot of people if I go there."

  Taylor started the truck, and I peered over at him.

  He was staring straight ahead into the darkness. "Did you know I was from Eakins when we met?"

  "No."

  "Does it have to do with the fire?"

  "Does what have to do with what fire?"

  He turned to me, glaring. "Are you fucking with me, Falyn? Who are you?"

  I wrinkled my nose. "What fire? What are you talking about?"

  He faced forward again. "Do you know Trex?"

  "The guy who came with you to the cafe the first time?"

  Taylor sighed and then shoved the gearshift into reverse. "We've both gotta work tomorrow. We should call it a night."

  He didn't speak again throughout the ride to downtown. When he parked in front of the Bucksaw, he didn't even put the truck into park.

  "Th-thanks." I slowly unbuckled my seat belt and placed my hand on the door handle. "It was a good day."

  "It was," he said, sighing. Regret was all over his face.

  I fished out my keys and unlocked the front door under the lights of Taylor's truck. Once I was inside and the door was locked, Taylor backed into the street and drove away.

  I stood in the dim dining area, alone and confused. Eakins had other secrets, more than just mine.

  Six days.

  Taylor or anyone from his crew, including the now mysterious Trex,
hadn't been to The Bucksaw Cafe in six days. I had gone over what I'd said until my thoughts were sick of themselves.

  I tapped on the counter with what little nails I had while chewing on a cuticle on my other hand. Most of the time, not having a phone was liberating, but now that I wanted to Google something, I felt an impulsive need to go out and buy one.

  "I thought you were going to quit that," Phaedra said, walking by with a tubful of dirty dishes.

  I pulled my finger out of my mouth, the skin around my nail white and torn. "Damn it."

  Kirby stood by the drink station, picking up clean cloths for wiping down tables even though she hadn't seated anyone in twenty minutes. Only the loyal regulars were in their seats, ignoring the pouring rain outside.

  "Do you have your phone?" I asked Kirby.

  She pulled it from her apron. "Yeah. Why?"

  "I want to look something up. Can I use it?"

  Kirby granted my request. The hot-pink case meant to protect her phone felt bulky in my hand. The days when I'd had a cell phone were so far behind me that it felt like a former life, but the screen looked the same. The icon for the Internet was easy to find.

  I clicked on it and proceeded to type in the words, Fire in Eakins, Illinois.

  The first page was full of links to articles about the local college. I clicked on the first one, reading about dozens of college kids who had been killed while trapped in a basement of one of the campus buildings. I shuddered at images of sooty faces, looking just like Taylor's the first day I'd met him. The name Travis Maddox came up more than a dozen times. He was being investigated for being present at the fight. I wondered why, out of all the students present, Travis and one other man were the only two mentioned to be facing charges.

  "What is it?" Kirby asked, sensing my unease.

  "I don't know yet," I said, looking up to scan my tables.

  "Falyn! Order up!" Chuck called.

  I set down the phone and breezed by the food window. I had perfected fitting plates onto a tray years ago. Only a few seconds were spent loading entrees before continuing to the dining area.

  "Ta-da," I said, standing over my favorite regular, Don.

  Don sat up tall, setting his tea down and giving me plenty of room to situate his meal.

  "Do me a favor, and cut into that steak, handsome."

  He nodded, his shaking hands carving into the thick meat. He hummed a, "Yes," and then brought the fork to his mouth.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. "How is it?"

  He hummed again, chewing. "You're my favorite, Falyn."

  "You're mine, but you knew that." I winked at him and then walked over to the drink station.

  The sky was dark outside, and the sidewalks were wet with the intermittent rain that had been falling since mid-morning. Crap weather meant less butts in the seats and less tips in our pockets.

  Phaedra brought in a stack of freshly sanitized menus from the back before setting them in a rectangular wicker basket. She crossed her tan arms, her skin leathered from years in the sun. "I'm not going to curse the rain. We needed the rain."

  "Yes, we did," I said.

  "Maybe that will help your boy with those fires."

  "We're going to need a lot more rain than this. And he's not my boy. I haven't seen him in a week."

  "He'll be back."

  I shook my head, breathing out a laugh. "I don't think so."

  "Did you get into a fuss?"

  "No. Not really. Kind of. We ran into my parents. Eakins was brought up. There was a misunderstanding."

  A knowing smile lit up Phaedra's face. "He figured out you were using him?"

  "What? No. I'm not using him," I said, guilt washing over me.

  "You're not, huh?"

  "I'm ... renting him. He doesn't have to take me if he doesn't want to. I'm not being fake. I'm being pretty damn mean actually."

  Phaedra watched me try to talk my way out of the hole my words were digging. "So, why did he quit coming around?"

  "I think he thinks I'm somehow involved in an investigation of his little brother."

  "What in the Sam Hades? Where did that come from?"

  I blew my bangs from my face. "It's a long story."

  "They always are."

  I felt her watching me as I made my way out to the main dining area.

  "More soda?" I asked the woman at table twelve.

  She shook her head, waved me away, and I moved on to the next patron.

  The sky opened up, and huge drops began dive-bombing the street and sidewalk. They were bouncing off so hard that they scattered after impact, appearing like steam hovering over the concrete.

  "It's getting ugly out there," I said to Don. "Want me to call Michelle to have her pick you up?"

  Don shook his head. "Don't want her getting the grandbabies out in this. They're my great-grands, you know. They call me Papa."

  "I know," I said with a warm smile. "They're lucky ducks. I would have loved to have you as my papa."

  He chuckled. "You do. Why in heaven's name do you think I come to visit you every day?"

  I gently touched his back with my fingers. "Well, maybe just eat your cheesecake a little slower. Hopefully, the rain will ease up."

  I bent down to kiss his cheek, his jowl sinking under my lips. The smell of his aftershave and his scratchy stubble were two of a hundred things I loved about this man.

  Several men sprinted along the glass wall and ducked into the door, laughing and out of breath. Taylor squeegeed his glistening arms with his hands while shaking the water from his face.

  Kirby pointed at the bar, prompting Taylor to lead Zeke and Dalton to the empty stools in front of the drink station. Taylor and I locked eyes while he passed behind me. I picked up a few dirty dishes and tried not to rush them to Hector before returning to stand next to Phaedra.

  "Your boy has the day off," Phaedra said.

  I felt my cheeks burn. "Please stop calling him that."

  "He likes it," Dalton teased.

  Taylor craned his neck at Dalton.

  Dalton sank back. "I'm just giving you shit. Damn."

  All three men were wearing soaked T-shirts and jeans. Taylor's gray T-shirt had a small red bulldog over his heart with the words Eastern State circling around it. He turned his red ball cap backward, and I smiled, knowing he'd deny it if I pointed out that he matched.

  "I do kind of like it," Taylor said, his threatening glare vanishing. He elbowed Dalton, who pushed him off.

  Phaedra shook her head and held up menus. "You gonna eat or what?"

  "We are," Zeke said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

  Phaedra placed a menu in front of each of them and then left us for the kitchen.

  Taylor glanced up at me for only a second before he studied the entrees.

  "Drinks?" I asked.

  "Cherry Coke," they said in unison.

  I breathed out a laugh as I turned to grab cups, and then I filled them with ice.

  "Not funny. Shut the fuck up," Taylor seethed, his voice low.

  I turned. "Excuse me?"

  Taylor's expression smoothed, and he cleared his throat. "Sorry. Not you."

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "Dalton said you had a nice ass," Zeke said.

  "You disagree?" I said, pouring my special cherry concoction into their Cokes.

  Taylor made a face, as if I'd just asked the stupidest question in history. "No. I just don't want them noticing."

  I set their cups on the bar and handed them straws. "What are you eating?"

  "Paninis again," Taylor said, dropping the menu.

  I looked to the other two for confirmation.

  Zeke shrugged. "We decided before we got here. They're fucking good."

  "If they're so good, why haven't you been in for almost a week?" I asked, instantly regretting it.

  "Keeping track, huh?" Zeke teased.

  "If you like the paninis, you should try Phaedra's cheesecake," I said, ignoring Zeke's jab.


  They traded glances.

  "Okay," Taylor said.

  I left them to put in their order, notifying Chuck, and then I turned to check on my tables. Twelve was almost out of soda, and they were still talking.

  Damn it. I'd known she would need more.

  Don wasn't quite finished, but he was sitting still, a blank stare on his face. His glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose, barely hanging on at the tip.

  "Don?" I said.

  He fell over, hitting the tiled floor hard with his shoulder and head. His glasses slid off his face, flying a few feet across the floor.

  "Don!" I yelled, running over to him.

  Once I reached him, I fell to my knees and cradled his head with my hands. I leaned over and then looked to Phaedra and Chuck, who had both run out of the kitchen.

  "He's not breathing." The reality of what that meant made my heart sink. "He's not breathing! Someone, help him!" I screamed.

  Taylor, Zeke, and Dalton all joined me on the floor. Zeke checked Don's pulse and then looked at Taylor as he shook his head.

  "Call an ambulance!" Taylor yelled to Phaedra. "Scoot back, sweetheart." He positioned himself next to Don and crossed his hands, one over the other, on the center part of Don's lower chest.

  Dalton angled Don's head upward and then pinched his nose, breathing into Don's mouth once, before Taylor began compressions.

  I crawled backward several feet until Kirby knelt beside me. Don's glasses were next to my hand, so I snatched them up and held them to my chest, watching the guys working on him. Everyone was quiet, listening to Taylor counting compressions aloud and instructing Dalton when to administer breaths.

  Zeke checked Don's pulse, and each time he shook his head, I felt my body sink lower.

  Taylor was out of breath, but he took one look at me, and whatever expression was on my face gave him renewed strength. "C'mon, Don!" Taylor said. "Breathe!" he barked to Dalton.

  Dalton leaned over, giving a breath, all hope gone from his eyes.

  "Taylor," Zeke said, touching Taylor's arm.

  Taylor shrugged Zeke off, continuing to press into Don's chest. "I'm not giving up." He looked up at me. "I'm not giving up."

  Chuck picked me up off the floor and supported my weight as he held me to his side. "I'm sorry, kiddo."

  Just a few minutes after the sirens could be heard, they were loud and right outside the door, the lights casting reds and blues inside the Bucksaw.

  Taylor, Dalton, and Zeke let the paramedics take over, one of them patting Taylor on the back. They loaded Don onto the gurney and carted him outside into the rain and then into the ambulance.

  Taylor heaved, exhausted after using his entire upper body for so long.

  "Is Don going to be okay?" Chuck asked.

  Taylor pressed his lips together, hesitant to tell the truth. "I don't know. We never got a pulse. I think he was gone before he hit the floor."