Page 72 of Kandie Shoppe

“Oh hey, Sheriff U,” Maxim nods, calling my way cheerfully after a brief startled stutter stop. Hefting the honey higher, he passes me, his mind on his task.

“Hey,” I say as he passes. I don’t look his way. I can’t. I’m too busy drinking in the beauty I’ve been denied for months. Even covered in the netted beekeeping veiled hat, she’s beautiful.

Her eyes are wide as she looks at me. My pride is fed a feast as I watch the way she looks at me.

“Miss me, darling?” I drawl.

“Fuck no.” Her answer is whiplash quick. Rolling her eyes, she pops out one hip. “How’d you find me?”

“Wildcat Kandie. It’s selling like hotcakes.” I step toward her. Snatching her hat off, she tucks it under her arm and surges past me. It’s cute really, her thinking she can outpace me. It really is.I catch up with her and fall into step with her on the way back to the house that stands a little further down the lane from the shop.

“It came out three months ago,” she mutters, having been quiet the ten-minute walk to the house.

“I don’t drink, so pardon my missing your foray into the very lucrative liquor industry.” She slides me a dirty look at my dry words. The truth is, I am proud of her, but I’m more than a little bitter that she’s been at peace making honey and creating recipes while I haven’t slept in the seven months she’s been gone.

Scrubbing my feet, I stop at the entrance of the kitchen door as we enter.

“You hungry?” she asks, pouring some lemonade into a glass taking a hearty sip.

“No, ma’am.” Shaking my head, I watch a wild smile spread across her face. Everyone knows the story of how Love women are known for poisoning Shelby men who wouldn’t leave them alone back in the day. I can’t help but join her. Soon we are both laughing. “Smart man.” Handing me the same glass she drank from she quirks an eyebrow. “Want some.”

I take it drinking down the rest of the chilled delicious beverage. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

The air becomes charged when she takes the glass, washing it, then putting it on the rack to dry.

“I’ll get my stuff,” she says and I wait immediately feeling like an idiot for trusting her.

Before I can regret my decision, she’s back with the duffle slung over her shoulder.

“Where to? Jail?” she asks, wiping a tear after being hugged nearly to death by both brother and sister.

“You wish,” I grumble growl. Shifting my F-250 into gear, we head off the property. Joining her in a wave to the brother and sister, I take her to the last place she’d expect.

“Where’s Marlene?”she asks, looking around into the silent house, seeming to immediately know Mom’s not here.

“Hospice.” Eyes cast down, I feel emotion tangle in my chest rising like a wave to my throat.

The silence is heavy. So fucking heavy between us.

“Oh, U.” Small hands touch my face, and it feels like she’s scalding me.

“Fuck you.” I curse her with every fiber of my being. I mean that shit, too. Heat rushes to my face. My eyes feel hot. Emotions threaten to break free. Every part of me feels scraped raw and washed in rough salt.

“You ran. Hid from me. I told you to stay put so I could keep an eye on you — keep you safe. You came here and knew. You fucking knew what I was going through, and you still left.” The words are out cutting us both up before I can pull them back and I don’t want to, not really. I mean every one of them. She acted like she was my everything, then left. Fuck.

“You’re so fucking selfish.” My accusation has her lifting her chin. Her little body is so rigid as she takes my lashing.

She’s nodding her head so rapidly in agreement, I think for a second she’s going to bob it right off her shoulders.

“I am. I had to get away from you. I still need to,” she agrees, swiping the tears away, then reminds me, “I had sex with you even knowing what you did. Easy knew she had to get away from Angel, so did Saban. Whatever it is she and Snake have going on. If I had a lick of sense, I would’ve left with them.” Shakingher head in disgust, she takes a step, then pivots away from me, covering her face. Her shoulders shake in silent sobs.

“I’m selfish. So fucking selfish I thought you’d finally come to do the right thing.” She looks over at me her eyes red, her face ravaged. “I’m selfish because I don’t want to lose anyone else? Does that make me bad?” Her voice is a broken plea.

Risking the biting and clawing I know is going to come, I take her into my arms. “No baby, it’s not. That night I should have told you the truth. I would have if I found you that night. Angel wanted to wait until things settled and the kids were safely placed, and the trafficking lanes Rudy put down before we told anyone what was going on.” She stills looking up with a mix of hope and confusion.

“What?” she gasps. I take her over to the sofa that we never sat on much and is still in pretty good condition to be something from the late nineties.

“One of Angel’s former guys, Rudy, may he rest in hell, decided to start a side business of moving kids. One of my deputies stopped a truck one night, and we found the kids and brought them to a warehouse we knew Angel used for goods.” Ignoring the quirk of her brow, I don’t elaborate. “We got the guys who moved them that night but not the entire crew. It was vast and went through several continents. We had to enlist others to put a stop to it and that took time. Now it's done. Every last one shut down and justice meted out in the only language they understand.” I look at her so that she can see the truth of my words. “We are not good men. I won’t insult you with that bullshit. But hurting kids.” I shake my head, angry that she would think me this type of low-down bitch but I push through. “After what I saw that night my dad died, I’d never.” The words are gruff in my own ears. I mean them with every part of my being though. She barely escaped what her sister, my dad andhis men gave their lives for putting a stop to means so much to me.

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