Chapter 2 - Miley

Sitting behind the counter with her nose in her favorite book, Miley didn't look up when the bell above the door jingled. The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland were much more exciting than whoever had wandered into the hardware store.

But the minute the book was snatched from her hand, losing her place, she realized the mistake she had made.

"What the fuck is this?" her father snarled at her, lifting the book in the air before he brought it down with a hard thud on the counter that made both Miley and her mother shudder. "You"re supposed to be looking after the store."

"I am," Miley protested, jumping off her stool, her head dipping. "I"ve put out all the stock and cleaned up. I even mopped the floor."

At that, her father sucked a great hacking glob of phlegm into his mouth and spat it at her feet. "Don"t look very clean to me."

Miley cringed, wishing not for the first time that she could be as brave as the women she read about in her fantasy novels. At only nineteen, she had imagined a thousand times what it might be like to run away from Nightstar, from her parents, from her abusive father and her dead-end life.

Once she saved up enough money, she might just do it. Until then, she had to bite her tongue and pray that the next beating wouldn't be the one that killed her.

"Clean it up," her father ordered. Miley glanced at her mother, standing behind him like a cowering shadow. She would be no help. She never was.

"Yes, Daddy," Miley said through gritted teeth, and she moved to grab the bucket and mop.

Maybe if I fail to drain the mop well enough, he"ll slip, Miley thought hopefully, but it would be just her luck that he would suffer only minor injuries and give her far worse.

Her hand barely gripped the bucket handle before she heard her father growl, "What the fuck is this mess?"

Wishing she could run away through the back office and down the alley, Miley instead turned to face her father.

She saw no mess, only the shelf of nails, screws and other bits and bobs she had tidied up while he had been out.

Working in a hardware store was boring as hell, and there were only so many things to do. Reorganization was practically the only thing that took her mind off how bored she was.

"I…I just straightened up a little," she said, bringing the mop and bucket to clean up the floor.

Too late, she realized she was within reach, and no sooner had she realized that than her father lashed out. The bucket went flying, water spraying all over the place before the bucket and mop clattered to the floor in a puddle.

"How dare you rearrange everything? I won"t be able to find shit now!"

Miley dipped her head, making herself small, praying the next blow wouldn"t be aimed right at her.

All she had done was put things in their proper place—the smallest nail, screw or nut to the biggest, one product per shelf, as it should have been—not all jumbled up as her father had left it, as if he"d just thrown packets at the shelf and prayed for the best.

"What do you know about hardware?" her father bellowed like an enraged bull. "I should have known better than to leave a woman in charge of a man"s store. If only you"d been a son! I"d know this place was in safe hands."

Miley scoffed under her breath. As if her father believed that having a set of balls between her legs might have made her any better at taking over when he was gone. She"d never have been so lucky anyway. He was going to live forever, torturing her just as long. He"d never let his favorite punching bag leave just because she was all grown up.

"I"m sure she only meant to help," her mother said meekly. But at a glare from her father, she fell silent, her head dipped as low as Miley"s.

"Maybe if you"d given me a son instead of this useless excuse for a daughter, we wouldn"t be having this conversation, and we wouldn"t be in the mess we"re in."

Miley"s throat constricted. Her father sounded as if he were some king, his precious hardware store a grand kingdom in need of an heir. It was laughable, especially after all the books she had read. Her father was no king. He wasn"t even a man. And yet, she couldn"t find a way to be free of him, no matter how she might have tried in the past.

She didn"t dare to speak. She barely even dared to breathe, knowing all too well what came next.

"Put it all back unless you want the belt again!"

Miley"s buttocks and back stung at the words. She had barely healed from the last time he"d taken the leather belt to her for something as stupid as burning his bacon.

"Yes, Daddy," she said, sick to her stomach. She hated calling him that. She wasn"t a little girl anymore, and she hadn"t seen him as "Daddy" in a very long time. She hadn"t loved him or respected him in a very long time, either—not since she had grown old enough to understand that he was a disgusting excuse for a man. But all she could do was try to survive long enough to find a way out.

And so, she started on the job at hand.

"And clean this goddamn mess up, too!" her father snarled, kicking the bucket halfway across the store. Miley cringed again at the sound it made when it hit the shelving on the far wall. She was sure it was broken, just like her ribs had been the last time he"d kicked her like that. They had healed weeks ago, but they still ached whenever she thought about it.

"Yes, Daddy," she said again through gritted teeth, crouching to pick up the mop. Her mother watched on like some doe-eyed, frightened little animal, and it made Miley even sicker. She would never stand by and watch her own kids get abused like this. Hell, if he was her husband, she'd probably have run away a long time ago. Then again, she never would have been stupid enough to fall for a man like that. Love was the only reason she could imagine her mother suffering through all this, and yet, still, she hated her for it.

How she could love a man like that, Miley didn"t know.

She had barely risen to her feet, off to get another bucket, when the bell above the door jingled all over again.

"Get it cleaned up before someone slips!" her father hissed under his breath at her before he hurried to the counter to smile and play the polite businessman.

"Hello, sir, how might I help you?"

Her mother scurried away like a little mouse out of the way of the newcomer.

Peering around the edge of the shelf where she hid in the aisle with her bucket, Miley laid eyes on him for the first time as he stepped up to the counter opposite her father.

He towered over her father, having at least a foot on him. Jet-black hair and an equally black short, cropped beard made him imposing enough at his height, but the tattoos that crept out of the neck of his t-shirt and covered both his arms made him look even more menacing. And those arms—hell, Miley didn"t think she had ever seen so much muscle. He could have picked her father up and broken his back with just a squeeze.

"I"m here on behalf of the mayor," the man said, and his voice was so deep it made Miley's insides quiver.

Her parents glanced at each other, a flash of excitement passing between the two of them.

"Has he reconsidered my—" her father began, but the tatted giant raised a hand to cut him off.

"I"m here looking for information on a couple of people who have gone missing in town," the man said, and though she could only see the profile of his face now, the way he looked at her parents intrigued her. He didn"t look best pleased to be speaking to them.

It was an odd expression to see on him—on anyone in Nightstar, in fact. The whole town was filled with people who thrived on false politeness, only ever smiling and going about their business and looking the other way when something untoward occurred.

But this man made no attempt to hide his clear contempt for her parents.

"I don"t know anything about no missing people," her father said, glowering back at the man.

"And you, Mrs. Peters?" the man asked without so much as a blinking, turning to look at her mother.

Miley bit back laughter. Even if her mother did know anything, she wasn"t fool enough to admit it. Her father would accuse her of trying to bring trouble to their door if she did.

"No, sir," her mother said, head dipped as it always was. Miley wondered if her mother could even turn her face to the sky anymore.

"Do you know a Lindsey Coleman, Deneen Mathews or Tommy Lewis?" the mysterious man asked, his shoulders squared as if he were prepared for a fight. Clearly, he knew her parents weren"t going to give up any information they had willingly.

"Everybody knows everybody around here, mister," her father snapped, "But we don"t know you, so why should we tell you anything?"

The man leaned over then. He placed his hands on the counter and glowered silently at her father.

Miley"s entire body shivered. Her father hated people in his face. Once this guy was gone, she and her mother were sure to pay for it.

"My name is Kane. And as I said, I work for the mayor," the man said with a clenched jaw. Miley saw the way the veins pulsed in his tatted neck. And odd shiver ran through her at the sight of it. She had never seen anyone look at her father like that. "Now you know who I am, and I know very well who you are, Mr. Peters. I"d be grateful for any information you might have on the missing persons."

"We don"t know shit," her father spat back, but he at least had the good sense to shrink away when the man growled. He actually growled. It wasn"t any old human grunt. He actually sounded like some kind of wild animal, threatening and deadly, and for a second Miley imagined him pouncing over the counter and tearing her father"s head clean off his shoulders.

She sucked in a breath, excited by the thought.

The man's head whipped around then, his eyes zeroing in on her. Those eyes were so dark they were almost black, a hint of intrigue sparking in them that took Miley"s breath away with the way he stared.

Where he had looked at her parents with disdain, he looked at her with something else, something she couldn"t quite put her finger on.

Though she trembled under his gaze, she tried her hardest not to show it as he pushed himself off the counter and strode toward her.

She felt like a doe caught in headlights as he approached, unable to blink or breathe, or even move her little finger. Her hands clutched so tightly to the mop that she was sure her knuckles would be bone-white.

"And you, miss? Do you know anything?" he asked. His tone was much softer than it had been before, and it made Miley"s insides turn to butterflies.

"I…umm…" Miley gulped. She wanted so badly to tell him that she knew Deneen and Tommy from her school days. They had been three or four grades below her in high school, but she knew their names and their faces well enough. Nightstar was a small town. Everybody knew everybody, just like her father said. But she could feel her parents watching her, and she knew what would happen if she so much as opened her mouth in front of them.

So she dipped her head, shook it, and pursed her lips.

"You"re sure?" Kane asked, his attention entirely on her now. The heat of his gaze on her made her skin tingle and the hair on the back of her neck rise.

The urge to side-step into his shadow, to hide from her parents for just one moment, was almost impossible to ignore.

"No, I"m sorry," she said, bile rising in her throat at the lie. Lindsey Coleman had been in just last week looking for mousetraps to be rid of the little critters in the basement of the bar, but she couldn"t tell him that, either.

"See, we don"t know shit," her father snapped, and the mere sound of his voice made her head whip up in fear.

It was an instant, gut reaction to the fright her father had instilled within her over the years, but what happened next was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Her gaze locked with Kane"s. Close now, she could see his eyes weren"t black at all; they were the deepest and darkest charcoal gray she had ever seen. In fact, she had never seen anyone with eyes that color before.

They were, quite simply, breathtaking.

The way Kane"s lips twitched upwards in a slight smile suggested he had noticed her sharp inhale.

Was he laughing at her for her fear of her father, or was it something else? Heat rose in her cheeks, and she forced her gaze from his.

"We don"t know anything, mister," Miley said loud enough for her parents to hear before she whispered quickly, "You should leave."

She could sense her father growing more and more irritated by the man"s presence, and his fingers were likely itching to grab the shotgun he kept under the counter.

Though the man standing before her certainly looked like he could take care of himself, she suspected even he was no match for a bullet to the back.

Kane remained where he was, still watching her, and Miley thought for one brief second of letting her father grab the gun.

She knew all too well what her father had been planning for her before Karl Ryker's mysterious disappearance. He had spoken multiple times about how he was going to marry her off to pay his ridiculous debts to the man, and those kinds of things didn't just disappear because a man did. Jack Blackwell, the new mayor of the town, didn't seem all that much different from the last. Sure, he hadn"t come knocking for money yet or to scare anybody—although maybe that was why Kane was really here—but Jack Blackwell did have a group of mean-looking guys around him just like Karl had. And they were surely just as bad. All men were.

Her father was bad enough. It was best to not even look twice at the man before her.

Yet Miley couldn't help herself.

The moment he silently turned away and stalked toward the door, she lifted her gaze.

Everything about him screamed danger. And yet, she felt the urge to look into those charcoal eyes again.