I didn’t think twice as I took off. The tires kicked up rocks in his direction.
I fought the urge to look in the rearview mirror. I had been in the wrong, but it wouldn’t be a problem . As soon as I was far enough away, I’d put this all behind me—never seeing him again.
Chapter three
Welcome To Tombstone
Roxy
There was a knock on my window.
I didn’t recognize the sound at first, but I’d been jumping at every little thing the whole night, and I figured this was just more of the same. Burying myself further under the blanket, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself back to sleep.Just a few more minutes.
There was another knock on the window, a little louder than the first.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled, rolling as best I could to face the back seats.
“You can’t park here.”
“Fuck.” Flipping the blanket off, I sat up. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes, but the person outside was impatient. They knocked on my window again. “If you break it, you bought it,” I exclaimed, putting my shoes on. I didn’t bother with anything else as I flipped the door lock, the heat hitting me in the face as I got out. “What’s your fucking problem?”
“Do you know where you are?”
I blinked twice until she came into focus, and then I had to blink a few more times to make sure she was real. She was a stunning brunette, oozing confidence I would never have. “Tombstone,” I answered.
“At least that’s something. You’re sleeping in the main street’s visitor’s lot, and if the sheriff comes by, he’ll tow you.”
“I’m visiting.” It was the first thing I could think of to get myself out of this situation.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Keep telling yourself that. This place has a funny way of keeping people.” She surveyed me from head to toe, but when she found what she was looking for, she crooked her finger. “Come with me.”
Grabbing my keys, I locked the car, not sure why I was blindly following. Dressed in a crisp polo with a logo and a denim skirt, she reeked of sophistication, but there was something that told me not to fuck with her. I was comfortable in my skin, but walking behind her, it was clear who was in charge as she led me out of the parking lot.
The minute we stepped onto the sidewalk, I felt like I had transported back in time. They had roped off the street from regular traffic, and I walked out to stand in the middle. It was early morning, and there wasn’t much activity, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what this place would have looked like in its prime.
“I’ve seen that look before,” she said, coming to stand next to me. “It’s technically a small town, so you relish the quaintness, the charming atmosphere of it all, not realizing you’re being sucked in, until it’s too late.”
“I’m just visiting,” I reminded her. Once I had the car fixed, I’d do a few touristy things to remember the place and then hit the road. I had gotten used to the travel, and it wasn’t bad when you had nothing else waiting for you.
She made a noise, like she didn’t quite believe me. “At this end of the street are the new businesses, mostly. Trinket shops for the tourists, that kind of thing. In the middle are the saloons and restaurants, and the far side is the historical. Before you leave, take a tour through the museum and see the show. It’s always fun the first time.” She continued walking down the dirt street.
My head was on a swivel as I followed her, trying to take it all in. I didn’t know what time it was, but there were shopkeepers outside, propping up chalkboard signs and sweeping the boardwalk. If they looked up and saw us, they waved and called out a greeting. I wasn’t sure if this was a close-knit community, or if she justwielded that kind of power. Turning towards the Blue Angel Saloon, she opened the front door, letting me stand in the entranceway.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. I was having a hard time merging the past with the present, and the saloon wasn’t any different. There was a second floor with four doors, the railing running the length of the room. Anyone could stand and watch the dining room from that vantage point. If this were Nevada, I might have worried.
Kerosene lamps were everywhere to create an ambiance, but I doubted they were functional. I didn’t look too closely, but there were outlets cleverly disguised on the walls. Heavy red brocade curtains draped the stage at the back of the room. I waited, not sure what I was supposed to be doing.
“This is your one chance,” she said, lifting the gate and sliding behind the bar. “What were you really doing out there?”
“I need a job, and I thought I’d check to see who was hiring, but when I went to leave, the car wouldn’t start. It was too late to call someone, so I stayed.”
She shook her head as if this wasn’t the first time she’d heard a similar story. “Grab a seat, and I’ll make coffee.”
I assumed she was the owner or the manager of this place as she moved with familiarity, giving me extra time to take everything in. My eyes bounced around the room, never settling on any one feature for long.
“What’s your story?” she asked, placing two steaming coffee cups on the table nearest to me before sitting down.
“What’s yours?” I asked, still standing in the doorway. I wasn’t sure if I should run and ditch the car, but the coffee smelled delicious, and I desperately wanted a cup.
