Free Cutter's Hope by A.J. Downey Page B

rest of the trip into town, but my wheels were turning. Mostly on Cutter’s reaction at the bowling alley. It was telling and it didn’t tell me anything I wanted to hear. I had a seriously sinking feeling and I really didn’t want what my gut was telling me to be true.
    Hossler dropped me off where I was staying and waved through the open window of the beastly Land Rover.
    “Beach party tonight, you should come! Just look for the bonfire!” she called and pulled around the circular drive and out onto the street. I stared after her thinking hard, before going up to my room. I showered and changed into some white shorts and a light, peach tank top made out of silk. The dress needed to be washed, the back smudged with dust from the wall Cutter had pressed me to in the bowling alley. I swept my long hair up into a tight bun and wrapped it in a hair tie before tucking my bangs across my forehead and behind one ear.
    I was just finishing putting on my face when my phone started ringing. I looked at it. Unknown caller. I answered it anyways, “This is Hope…”
    “Hey Sweetheart,” Cutter’s voice purred through the line.
    “How’d you get this number?”
    “I got my ways,” he said and I found myself nodding even though he couldn’t see it.
    “Uh huh… So what happens now?” I asked.
    “Hossler tell you about the bonfire?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Come see me,” he intoned.
    “You going to feed me some more lies? A bunch of half-truths?” I asked. I didn’t want to aggravate him but I was tired of spinning my wheels in the soft sand of Ft. Royal, Florida. This wasn’t a game. This was my sister and I wanted her back.
    “I’m going to tell you what I can, Darlin’, but I’ve got to think of my club,” he said and his voice was raw and honest.
    “Bros before ho’s huh?” I asked and snorted derisively.
    “Not to put too fine a point on it,” he said and he didn’t sound happy about it which earned him a few points in my book.
    “Why the change of heart, Cutter?” I asked softly.
    “I’m not a bad guy Hope, and I meant it about wanting to get to know you,” he said, voice low and heated in all the right ways to send my body into a fit of wanting. Damn he was good.
    “See you tonight,” he murmured into the phone with that smooth velvet undertone and he hung up. I stood with my phone to my ear for several moments after he’d severed the call, my mind working overtime.
    Too many games. Too many feints and jabs. That too-familiar sinking feeling took up residence beneath my breastbone again but Cutter sounded so damned sincere, I wanted to believe him. I really did. Either way I didn’t have a choice. I would go. I would see what was what and I would do what I’d been doing for the last, shit; almost two years. I would hang onto the hope I would see my sister again, and I wouldn’t lose faith. Either one of them.
    I slid my phone into the pocket for it in my purse and stared at the white leather and rhinestones, picturing the very black revolver in its depths. Dusk was only a couple of hours off and I would hopefully have some kind of an answer. Something to go on… I chewed my bottom lip.
    I got the genuine feeling that Cutter wanted to help me. I also got the feeling he was hiding things from me. I didn’t like either, I wanted answers and I was going to get them. I snatched my purse off the bed and slung it over my shoulder. The bag rode high under my arm and the weight to it was a comforting thing. I went out the front and started walking. I needed something to eat, to fuel my body and mind and to kill the fading buzz from the beers at the bowling alley.
    I slipped into a beach front fish bar and had some fish and chips, watching the smiling, laughing tourists walk by in the fading sunlight. I washed down my food with water and a squeeze of lemon, letting my mind blank for a bit. I didn’t want to think. The same thoughts just kept chasing each other in circles and drove me nuts