Chapter 24

Faye

Lincoln Foxx should have never been part of the equation. I came back to do a job. To bail out my sister. And now all of it feels like a lie. A half-truth that I told myself because vulnerability makes people weak. I could be a lot of things, but his couldn’t be one of them. Could it?

It’s been a week since the auction—and, coincidentally, the best sex of my life. And that’s all I keep replaying—his hands all over me, his mouth, his words. And how this would work. My phone vibrates in my pocket as I’m jamming the poker against the fresh log I just threw onto the fire. We’re in the midst of the forgotten part of winter, not cold enough for snow to stick and not warm enough to forget your jacket.

Hadley had asked if I’d stay around long enough for Valentine’s Day. I’m starting to feel settled, so I didn’t think too long about how to answer. It was an easy yes. I don’t have another job lined up, which is also out of character for me, but I suppose I’ve felt out of sorts since I arrived.

FOXX

When exactly am I going to see you again? Replaying you writhing underneath me is only making me want to see you more. And waiting until I run into you isn’t the way I like to go after what I want.

FAYE

And what is it you want?

FOXX

I thought that was obvious . . .

I stare at the orange and yellow flames dancing around the fireplace before they catch onto the new wood. A smile pulls at my lips, thinking about how to answer his question. It’s been a fair amount of texts about random things. My favorites are just the simple: Hi, Peach . I can hear him saying it as his lips press against mine and it does something to me that I can’t seem to explain.

Is it eager to tell him that I want to see him right fucking now? Our night together hasn’t left my mind, for multiple reasons. And it’s been long enough without a repeat.

As soon as I came home the morning after the auction, I uploaded all the content I acquired and shared it with Cortez. I had expected some repercussions from my swift departure and run-in with Waz, but I haven’t heard so much as a peep from Blackstone.

And then this morning, Cortez confirmed that the private auction was broken up an hour after Lincoln and I left. There was only one arrest made. Brock Blackstone was taken into custody; however, no charges have been filed. It left a nervous feeling in my gut—this isn’t going to just fizzle out. Fiasco is going to be the battleground for whatever’s coming. Which begs the question: who’s the FBI targeting?

CORTEZ

You did great stuff on this case, Faye. Your work on the Blackstone file is complete. Between the surveillance over the last few months that you’ve shared, in addition to what and whom we were able to identify during his private auction, your contract has officially been fulfilled.

Catching my attention, my sister hurries past the living room, but I call out after her. “Maggie.”

She and I need to talk. There’re a lot of questions that I’m not okay with her running away from any longer, specifically about Waz. Whatever she’s involved in with Waz King is trouble—that much is obvious. But after my run-in with him and the fact that he and Wheeler Finch were at that auction, my sister is in the line of fire. And as much as our relationship is broken, not a single part of me wants her to get any more hurt.

Walking backwards, she leans on the archway to the room with a sigh. “Yes, I drank your seltzers. We’ll call it part of your rent.”

I blink at her first, then crack a smile. “Shut up. I’m not paying rent when I own half this place. But stop taking my things, please.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Fine. Stop moving around my gym equipment.”

Arguing isn’t what I want to do, so I don’t counter with the fact that her gym equipment is in my old bedroom. Instead, I pivot. “Why are you working for Finch & King?”

She stares at me, her shoulders tensing as she stands up from casually leaning. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, or if she’s just trying to decide whether the truth might work. But instead of an answer, she throws a question back, “Why are you here?”

The doorbell rings, but she doesn’t move to get it until it rings again a second later. Without a word, she moves down the hallway to answer it. I hear her unlock and remove the chain, but other than, “Hey,” I don’t hear anything else.

“What!?” Maggie whisper-shouts. She never did do “quiet” very well.

“Nice to see you too, Maggie.”

That voice has me standing and moving closer with light footsteps.

“Unless you want an audience, you need to keep your voice down, Cortez.”

“You’re not answering your phone,” he says as I peek around the couch. She’s trying to keep the door angled closed.

Maggie’s voice raises. “Your buddies at the station took my statement. I have nothing else to add.” She opens the door wider now and looks over her shoulder right at me. She knew she was being too loud, that I would hear . “He’s all yours,” Maggie calls out, then walks away and leaves the door open as a signal for him to come in.

When he sees me leaning against the threshold of the farmhouse’s living room, he looks surprised and hesitates to come inside. It’s interesting body language for someone who came here to see me. It’s even more curious that he’d be here at all. After his dismissive work text, I would have thought an in-person visit wasn’t necessary. Unless I’m not why he’s here. There’s something about their exchange that isn’t sitting right.

“I was hoping you’d still be here, Faye.”

Pulling my hair up in a loose knot, I sit back down in the chair I had been zoning out in and glance at the bit of snow that’s started falling outside. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Just that the Fiasco Charity Rodeo kicks off tonight. Full weekend of bulls and bronc riders overflowing the town.”

“You finished out my case via text, but you wanted to tell me about the rodeo in person?” Brow pinched, I glance at Maggie. “The fuck, Cortez? Why are you really here?”

Maggie’s head tilts to the side, watching with an odd mix of irritation and amusement.

My phone buzzes with another text.

FOXX

Hi Faye. Did you know that the caverns in Fiasco have the greatest concentration of geodes and stalagmites in this part of the country?

When I told Lincoln about how sexy smart was, I didn’t think he would go down the path of random facts about geology. Wait, this sounds...

FAYE

Lily?

FOXX

Yup!

Some people might expect kids to be a deterrent when it comes to dating men. Ninety-nine times out of one hundred, I would have agreed. Except now, this one time, I find a single dad whose kids are just as charming as him.

FAYE

I’m surprised you went for texting me random facts and not online shopping or something else when the world is at your fingertips.

FOXX

Nope! Lark and I pushed it with Dottie and Kit. We found Kit, but Dottie was curse purse money, which was still technically dad’s money...

Texting you seemed like the better choice.

FAYE

Where is your dad?

FOXX

Currently staring at your house. But don’t tell him I told you that.

Would you want to help me find more rocks and gemstones to add to my collection sometime?

Why does my dad have your name in his phone as Peach?

My cheeks heat at this news, and I smile at the nickname.

“So is that a yes?” Cortez asks, pulling my attention back to what he asked.

I shake my head and focus. “What? Is what a yes?” I glance at Maggie again, trying to understand what’s going on here between them.

Cortez smiles at me. “Come with me to the rodeo tonight.”

And as much as I really don’t want to, I know there’s one way to get answers from both him and Maggie.

“Pick me up at six,” I say as I move toward the stairs and focus on answering Lily.

FAYE

I would love to help you find rocks and gems sometime.

“Are you going to tell me the real reason you showed up at the house today?” I ask Cortez from the passenger seat of his SUV.

“Better question, baby girl: are you going to stay in Fiasco?”

I know when someone is deflecting. And I’m just about over him calling me a pet name he hasn’t earned. “Faye,” I correct.

He glances at me, head tilted.

“Not your baby girl, Cortez. You can call me by my first or my last name.”

With a nod, he clears his throat.

I’ve made it uncomfortable, but I’m not interested in making him feel comfortable right now. There’s only one person I want to hear call me baby ...or Peach .

I lean my elbow on the car door and watch as he hits a few station buttons until he settles on some classic rock. It’s a quiet car ride after that until we’re pulling into the packed parking lot, uneasy tension swirling around us.

The arena where the charity rodeo is held is indoors. The typical humid heat that licked everyone’s skin during rodeo season is nowhere in sight. Instead, snowflakes dust all the cars lining the entryway.

“I still never found out why my sister had bruises all over her face and body? Any guesses?”

“Of course, but you know your sister,” he rushes out.

I raise my eyebrows. “I don’t, actually. Kind of seems like you might know her better.”

I watch his casual body language and try to pay attention to if it changes as we pass more people walking through the front gates and into the main hall. Tables line the edges with local businesses that sell everything from hot toddies to turquoise adorned belts and buckles. Rodeos are an excuse to dust off cowboy hats and pull on your best boots. The talent wears Wranglers and cowhide just about every day, but Kentucky isn’t typical cowboy country. They still look damn fine in worn jeans and Henleys, but their accessories include rocks glasses and charm. Present company included. Cortez is in plain clothes, but he and I are similar in that we rarely turn off work mode. He might have asked me here, but he’s always on duty.

A group of two women smiles at him as they walk by. Tipping his hat, he gives them an innocent smile, ignoring the way they’re blatantly checking him out.

“Are you dating anyone?” I ask him. “This is our second time out and I haven’t heard you talk about anybody...”

“You tell me,” he says with a smirk. “Like you said, this is our second time out together.”

“Oh, please.” I laugh. I try not to think about who I ended up with and what we were doing when I went out with Cortez last time. “That isn’t why I’m asking.”

We stand in line for one of the tents, and it gives me a minute to look around. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but a small wave of excitement rolls through me when I see Griz Foxx. I scan behind him to see if Lincoln is with him.

“Who are you looking for?” Cortez asks, as he follows my line of sight.

I let out an exhale and figure I might as well cut my losses here and just ask him point blank. “Are you sleeping with Maggie?”

He snorts out a laugh, head rearing back. “What? No.” He looks behind him. “Jesus, Faye, why would you think that?”

I shrug my shoulders, trying to decide if his reaction is more of a show than truth. I step up to the long wooden table when it’s our turn to order. “What are the chances I can get a hot toddy?”

Marla gives me a tight-lipped smile as I hold out a twenty for the drink. “We’re all out.”

Cortez laughs to himself.

Romey gives her arm a slap and laughs. “You’re such a bitch, Marla.” Smiling up at me, she says, “That’ll be five dollars, Faye.”

Marla makes a show of moving down to the next table that’s selling 50/50 raffle tickets.

“Ignore her,” Romey says as she hands me back my change. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, between your sister and just moving back?—”

“I’m not moving back, Romey.”

She bats away my words. “That’s neither here nor there. Marla likes grudges and you’ve been gone long enough to be considered a tourist now.”

My stomach sinks at not being a part of this place. If they only knew how often I wanted to be here. The way that I planned to never leave this town after coming back from the academy.

“She went ahead and started a whole famous life without us,” Cortez says as he slides up next to me. He gives me a wink and that crooked smile that I’m sure gets him plenty of attention around here.

Romey looks between us, smiling. “You two would have the prettiest babies.”

Cortez smiles at me, just waiting for my response.

I’ve never pictured having babies with anyone. Even when my plans included staying in Fiasco, kids felt like a distant decision. I wanted to build a career, get my footing, then decide if that path made sense for me. Now, any path I take seems too short-sighted to even consider it.

“Having babies doesn't exactly fit into my life plans or my career choices,” I say jokingly.

She gives me a placating smile as she slices out two small pieces of the fudge she’s been selling. “The girls at Teasers were talking about asking you to host a dance class.”

“Really?” I’m a bit thrown off by that. It isn’t something anyone has asked me before. I just assumed it wasn’t the kind of dancing they’d want to see, never mind learn, in a small town.

“Mable can teach ballet with her eyes closed, but she wouldn’t know the first thing about swingin’ her hips or shimmyin’ around.”

“Yeah, but Miss Mable is the one who taught me how to move at all,” I tell her, thinking about how much I’ve enjoyed dancing for so long.

“She’s teaching an Oldies and Yogies class for a few of us on Saturdays now. You should stop in and see her.” She nudges my elbow and wiggles her eyebrows. “And you can show us a few of those moves I keep hearing about while you’re at it.”

I can’t help but smile, imagining what that could look like. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

She moves her hand to the right of her mouth, like what she’s about to say is a secret. “And as far as kids are concerned, to each their own. I just know those Foxx girls can’t seem to stop talking about you.” She nods behind me. “It’s not just your burlesquin’ that’s caught some attention.”

When I look over my shoulder to where she gestured, Lark Foxx leans on the bleachers, watching me. Two rows up, just a few seats from her daddy, Lily is pointing at the massive blue bubble she’s blowing, with her eyes wide. They’re impossible not to smile at. “I’m going to say hi to Lark and Lily.” I give Romey a wave and make my way towards the stadium’s bleachers, but Cortez stops as we get closer and then leans his forearms on the paddock.

“You should know that we were able to convince Blackstone to cooperate.”

That has my attention. So I mimic his stance and quietly ask, “And what is he cooperating about?”

“I can’t share that just yet. But it’s exactly what we had hoped would happen. You built out a solid case against him—some shady shit that man has been involved with. Trafficking drugs, exotic animals, orchestrating a disturbing number of encounters with co-eds who are just barely above being minors. It’s a hefty list.”

“And you’re telling me that he wasn’t who you’re after?”

He shakes his head slowly as he looks around the room.

“Bigger fish?”

“Wider wingspan,” he says, standing to his full height and waving at one of the bull riders who’s making his way toward us.

“Cortez, why are you telling me this now? I’ve been asking and asking for this.” I let out a frustrated exhale. I’m tired of the evasiveness. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve got my sister involved in, or what?”

I follow his line of sight as he looks out across the arena. And sure enough, there’s my sister having a chat with Wheeler Finch as she texts away simultaneously on her phone. She looks every bit the Maggie Calloway I knew before I ever left here. Her long blonde hair falls down her back in waves. The pair of painted-on jeans and short blue sweater plays off her red lip. She’s always been the outgoing Calloway who found pockets of trouble—caught drinking at high school football games, pulled over in a baked-out car, but she would find her way out of getting too much of a consequence. I guess that caught up with her.

I wonder, not for the first time, how exactly my sister had folded herself into business with Finch & King. She’s a web designer, according to everyone in town. She built out the website for Teasers and Foxx Bourbon. But I also knew she did a helluva lot more for the Foxx family. Maybe that was true for Finch & King as well.

Cortez lets out a breath as Maggie breaks off her conversation and moves in my direction.

A hiccuped laugh echoing next to me draws my attention away. “She’s such a slut. Heard she was fucking both of ’em,” the buzzed brunette gossips.

Her friend laughs right along with her and says, “She’s so money hungry, too. I have a feeling she’s doing way more than just gambling money. Heard she sucked a cop’s dick to make bail.”

Anger flares in my chest as I turn my head to really look at these two. I can tell Maggie’s working something out in her head by the way her posture changes. She heard them. She looked in her element, relaxed, as she talked with one of the bronco riders. I hate that she overheard small-town closed minds. Fucking bitches.

My phone buzzes as I watch her storm off.

BLACKSTONE

You’ve been keeping some secrets from me, Rosie. I’m not interested in playing along with them anymore.

ROSIE GOLD

Seems like you’ve been keeping secrets for, and from, a lot of people.

BLACKSTONE

I enjoyed our time together. Be careful. Plenty of people are observing, Rosie. But you like that, don’t you? Being watched?

ROSIE GOLD

I would tell you to go fuck yourself, but we both know that’s the kind of direction you like.

BLACKSTONE

Don’t tease me, Rosie.

ROSIE GOLD

...but that’s my job, Brock. Now seems like the right time for this: Goodbye.

I block the number and pocket my phone. He’s got plenty of people paying attention to his every move right now. Brock Blackstone is the least of my worries. And as much as he could be a loose cannon still being in Fiasco, I know the FBI has enough to keep him in line.

Cortez shuffles his feet. When I glance back at him, he’s looking down and weighing what he’s going to say. He starts to say, “We should discuss–”

“Cortez, you son of a bitch,” one of the bull riders saunters over to where we’re leaning and interrupts.

It works as the perfect distraction to take what I want, plant what I need, and still with enough time to put it back.

But it’s the brunette closest to me who grabs my attention as she sucks in a gasp, and then rushes out, “Oh my gosh, speaking of sucking someone off—I swear to you, if you want to just get good and fucked, you’ll wander into that distillery and find you know who.”

My stomach lurches as I hear it. These two women went from badmouthing my sister to the man I had just spent an entire night with. I have to laugh to myself, otherwise I’ll start feeling like an idiot. Because I was just at that distillery, getting good and fucked. Jesus . I shouldn’t feel anything hearing this. The logical part of me knows that we’re both consenting adults and what he’s done before me or chooses to do after me is irrelevant.

“I’ll catch up with you in a little bit,” I mumble to a distracted Cortez. I look in the direction where my sister went. Where did she go?