Hotter Horizons Read online

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 JC Szot

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-548-8

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my husband, Mike who lost his battle with Acute Myeloid Leukemia on August 1st. I thank him for eleven years of marriage, friendship and endless support. His gifts of time and space made my writing what it is today.

  HOTTER HORIZONS

  JC Szot

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “Here, take it,” Jada said, forcefully pushing a wad of cash into her hand.

  “No.” Fern shook her head. “It’s too much. You’ll need it to carry my end of the expenses.”

  Jada grabbed her satchel, stuffing the cash inside.

  “I’m working the last four shows,” Jada said, hand on hip. “Believe me … I’ll be raking it in.” Jeff Foxworthy was performing his act at the casino where Jada worked, her last week being very lucrative.

  Fern relented. She did need money. Jada was a cocktail waitress at the Mohican Sun Casino. She had a real knack for dealing with the public, not to mention her glamorous looks, which only added to her gift. The amount of cash the girl could earn in one night was sickening.

  This drama-laden plan of escape was very sudden and unplanned. Fern had hit the wall. She was done with Johnny. After almost three years of dealing with his dysfunctional behavior, she was finally tapped out.

  Being in a relationship with Johnny was like dealing with an entire street gang. His often violent, possessive behavior interfered with even daily life activities. If Fern even glanced in the direction of another man he thought she was interested. He was jealous and insecure. Johnny did have a soft side but its appearance was rare. He gave her no freedom of movement.

  For Jada, Fern’s departure was a day of rejoicing, but it came with a price. Fern would now have to leave. Jada had been trying to get Fern to ditch Johnny ever since voice-activated email made its debut. Fern was going to suffer the most from this breakup, forcing her to abruptly relocate and abandon all she knew, heading toward another horizon all on her own.

  When would she be able to see Jada again? They’d been roommates forever. She wouldn’t miss her job at the Turnstile. She was tired of dealing with rowdy club-goers and loud music, and patrons like her ex. I’ve acquired the lifestyle I grew up despising.

  Now she’d be forced to wander, just like her father had his entire life, never owning anything or putting down roots. “I don’t like things that hold me down,” had been her father’s famous words. Her mind scrambled back to Johnny and the reaction her absence would create.

  You couldn’t just dump Johnny and stay in town. Fern had learned that the hard way. It would never work and hadn’t worked the numerous times Fern had tried to terminate the relationship.

  Johnny would stalk and nag, tormenting her, feeding his guilt to her like a spoiled meal until she caved, unable to swallow another rotten mouthful. No. This time she’d have to leave and disappear, covering her tracks like windblown snow on a sidewalk. Panic wormed through her. What kind of crap would Jada have to deal with when Johnny came around looking for her?

  “He’s eventually gonna show up here,” Fern told her.

  Jada’s dark-brown eyes narrowed. “I know how to deal with him. Don’t worry about me.”

  Jada sat down on her bed, releasing a hissing breath that blew the bleached-blond strands of hair out of her eyes, her brows furrowing.

  “Where you gonna go?” she asked, her tone now hesitant, laced with a fear Fern didn’t want to feel.

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Fern told her, yanking open drawers, stuffing her knapsack.

  “Fuck! I hate that son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Yeah, he’s got a habit of provoking that in people.” Fern took one more glance around the tiny studio apartment. There was stuff she’d have to leave behind, for now. Jada met her thoughts.

  “Maybe when you land and get settled, I can bring you the rest of your things,” Jada said, eyeing her small stereo, books, and CDs.

  Fern sat down next to her, resting her hand on Jada’s thigh.

  “Yeah.” She sighed, exhausted already. “I’ll call…” More words formed on her tongue, words better left unsaid.

  ****

  The traffic had picked up, the late-day rush hour kicking in. Fern hiked toward the Wawa, thinking she’d get her last mocha latte. The whine of the train whistle caught her attention. Fern ran across the highway and bolted into the thickets, having missed the last bus out.

  Colorful cars moved slowly behind the tall brush. She climbed up the steep bank, watching as the train clanked over the rails. It moved at a speed that was doable, enabling the crazed thought that was forming in her mind to take shape.

  Fern sidestepped down the embankment, waiting. With the last car in sight, Fern gripped the hot paper cup, seeing the hot beverage slosh inside.

  The oily smell of creosote burned her nose. Fern took two cautious sips, realizing she needed to toss her last indulgence into the weeds until she got to wherever she was going.

  Fern threw the cup into the brush. As the last car rattled past, Fern stepped in behind it and started jogging, pacing her steps, watching the tarry pebbles and ashen dirt below pass beneath her feet. With the width of two feet, her adrenaline got the best of her. She hurled her knapsack into the car and quickened her pace, her decision made.

  She gasped. Fern dragged in a rush of polluted smog and took that leap, a leap away from Johnny that would buy her more distance, and a leap into a new life that was frightening as hell, holding all the fears of the unknown.

  Chapter Two

  Fern swayed, leaning into the wall to regain her balance as the boxcar moved down the tracks. The woodsy smell of cedar and something sweetened settled in her nose as she turned and sat down on what looked to be sacks of animal feed. Seeing the horseshoe emblem on the burlap confirmed it was most likely horse grain.

  She reached for her knapsack, resting it between her knees, and Fern settled back and watched the town of Easton, Pennsylvania recede behind her. She knew this freight train went into New Jersey, but wasn’t sure where she should get off.

  The sun began to slip down the horizon, leaving a path of warm pinks and smoky violets in its wake. The remains of the day’s heat warmed her face as she reclined her back into the feedbags. Summer was just beginning, and now her life was rocking back and forth as if on a raft in turbulent waters. I fucking feel like Tom Sawyer.

  It’d been a Memorial Day picnic at a co-worker’s house. Another embarrassing incident where Johnny had had too much to drink and allowed his paranoia to ruin what had started as the perfect kick-off to summer.

  He’d accused one of the bouncers whom Fern worked with at the Turnstile of lusting after her. It was always so humiliating to have to calm Johnny down and then rush to explain his demented ways to her friends or acquaintances. She’d always made excuses for him, which never failed to enrage Jada.

  Fern tipped her head back, feeling the vibration of the moving train run throughout her body. She lowered her eyes against the glaring rays of the sun, drinking in its warmth. Thoughts began to run rampant.

&nbs
p; She’d need a job, a place to live. With no car, she’d have to set things up so she could manage on foot, until she got on her feet financially. She never needed a car in Easton, always able to use public transit. Thinking of all those things that cost money had her hand dipping inside her satchel, riffling through its contents to find the roll of cash Jada had given her. Fern pulled out the neatly banded roll. She ran her fingertip over the corners of the bills, guessing she had about five or six hundred dollars.

  The train rolled on, clanking through a tunnel of wooded areas and groves. Two boys on their bikes, with fishing rods resting on their shoulders, stood on the side of the tracks. When one of them noticed her, he pointed, his friend looking on, their faces perplexed. Fern lifted her finger to her lips, smiling. She pulled out her cell phone, checking the time. She’d been on the train for a little over two hours. When the cars began to slow she sat up, her senses sharpening. Fern slung her satchel and knapsack over her shoulder and stood. She made her way to the end of the car, peering outside, gripping the edge of the car as it swayed.

  The air had cooled, the days now longer. Fern directed her gaze toward her surroundings. The Jake Brake of the train hissed and squeaked.

  We’re stopping.

  It looked to be a lumberyard. Stacks of wood sat on pallets, lining the edges of a large, fenced-in area. This was it. She’d have to get off here. She looked down at the feedbags, unsure if they were being unloaded. The train whined one last time before coming to a complete halt.

  Several workers moved about the yard, loading planks of lumber onto carts. Fern looked both ways and hopped out, darting up the track, looking for an opening beyond the fenced-in yard.

  The sweet smell of sap and sawdust swirled around her as she eased into a jog. A shrilling whistle rang in her ears. Her chest tightened with alarm.

  “Hey, you!” a gruff voice called out to her. Fern felt her body go stiff. She broke into a sprint, her breaths heaving. He yelled to her again, but Fern kept going, not daring to look back.

  As the brush and tree line grew thinner, she downshifted her efforts into a slow, steady jog. Her eyes locked in on a small convenience store. Her legs burned with exertion. Fern ducked into the weeds. Thickets and thorns scraped over her skin, stinging her flesh.

  “Shit,” she gasped. Fern directed her steps and headed right to the side of the building, the restroom sign welcoming her.

  Chapter Three

  Fern ran cool water over the thin lines that trailed across her forearm. After patting her skin dry and a much-needed visit inside the stall, she gathered her composure and entered the store.

  Cars pulled in and out for gas. Fern made her way to the rear of the small store and got two bottles of water and a package of trail mix as well as a coffee.

  She stood in line with what looked to be people stopping in on their way home from work, picking up some last-minute things for dinner. A display of sandwiches had her stomach waking up with the dull burn of hunger. The woman behind the counter intercepted her gaze.

  “Those are nice and fresh, just made them.” Her smile was warm. Fern pointed to the roast beef and cheese, grabbing a small package of pretzels off the nearby rack. The woman handed her the sandwich wrapped in butcher’s paper. While checking out, Fern asked her if there were any hotels in the area.

  “Well.” The woman turned, glancing out the front window. “We have a small motor inn about a half mile down. Go out of the parking lot and make a right. Fields Grove Motor Inn, you can’t miss it,” she said, handing Fern her change.

  Fern thanked her and headed out. As she passed through the vestibule, she picked up a local community flyer out of the “for free” bin.

  Fern ate her trail mix as she walked down County Route 4, saving her sandwich for later. She’d landed in what appeared to be the small, quaint town of Fields Grove, New Jersey.

  The town had a nice hub, all the necessities you needed accented with quaint shops and a small café. As she passed the post office and what Fern knew was a seedy pub just by looking at the battered shingles and peeling paint of the Gray Wolf Tavern, the roadside sign for the Fields Grove Motor Inn came into view.

  A row of white buildings with red trim sat behind a large parking area. Fern aligned her steps with the lit-up “Vacancy” sign. Opening the door that sounded a tinkling bell, Fern rested her hands on the aged, Formica counter.

  A TV blared from behind another door behind the counter, masking the bickering whines of children. Fern removed her money, concealing it behind the counter. In what seemed like a cashless society these days, the roll of cash Jada had given her could raise suspicion.

  An older woman’s voice jarred her. “Can I help you?” Her weathered, blue eyes clung to Fern’s. A red bandana pulled across her head, covering rows of pink rollers.

  People still wear rollers?

  “I’d like a room, but I’m just not sure how long I’ll be here,” Fern said, struggling for a courageous tone. It was an older establishment, not as polished as the Estonian back home.

  “I got a special … one-fifty for the week.” Her rough tone scraped over Fern. The screams from behind the door amplified. The woman turned, yanking the door open. “Excuse me.” She shot Fern a hard glance over her shoulder. The woman stepped into the threshold, closing the door, concealing herself, her tone seething.

  While she reprimanded what sounded like an unruly group of kids, Fern laid her money out on the counter. Her abrasive voice had Fern meeting her frustrated expression. “I’m sorry, Ms.” She shook her head and took Fern’s cash. She turned and removed a key from a pegboard that hung on the wall. “Here you are.” She was seemingly trying to smooth away her impatience with a smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Ice machine is outside at the end of the building.

  “Thank you.” Fern nodded.

  ****

  Enclosed in a paneled room and lying on a dank-smelling chintz bedspread, Fern leafed through the local bulletin. She’d eaten all the food she bought and was now looking for a job, unsure of what the small town had to offer. No more bars or nightclubs!

  Her phone chimed, and she saw a text from Jada.

  Are u okay? I’m at work, but let me know u r safe.

  Fern texted her back, telling Jada sarcastically that she’d landed in Kansas. Jada then sent a photo of the Blue Collar Comedy men that were performing that night.

  Glancing down at the paper once more, an ad caught her eye.

  Housekeeper needed for two busy young professionals.

  Live-in preferred—details to be discussed at interview.

  Fern reached for a pen in her satchel and copied down the number. It was late. She’d call tomorrow. A job with board included. Sounded like a no-brainer. It all depended on those details. She’d have to wait to learn more, if she landed the interview, hoping things got that far.

  Two young professionals. The scenarios ran through her mind. Businessmen who traveled maybe? Do these guys want someone who can cook? She wasn’t overly clever in the kitchen.

  Fern got up and padded into the bathroom. After she brushed her teeth, she slipped between the musty-smelling sheets, her nose twitching. The idea of smelling these sheets for a week was unsettling. She’d just have to make that call tomorrow and take the rest as it came.

  Chapter Four

  He’d only placed the ad three days ago, and they had a call already. Levi raced around the kitchen and living room, tidying up. Alec had just left for work. With Alec’s crazy schedule and Levi’s demanding clients, there just wasn’t enough time to get the basic housekeeping done, not to mention the laundry that was often piled four feet high.

  Being a headhunter in today’s economy was rough. Levi often felt like road-kill, being pecked to death by clients who hadn’t worked in months, desperate for Levi to find them that dream job.

  Alec worked at the Red Rooster, the only prestigious restaurant in Fields Grove. His schedule often flip-flopped between the lunch and dinner hours. Alec was a v
alet, parking cars for the more affluent population of their community. Now, with the adjoining golf course open, this was Alec’s busiest time of year.

  He hoped, if this girl worked out, that they’d be able to take a trip without worrying that no one was home minding the house. It wasn’t that they resided in a high-crime area, but they’d both worked hard for what they had, and Levi wasn’t taking any chances.

  Levi did a sweep underneath the sofa, catching the small bottle of lube in his hand. He smiled, recalling taking Alec over the arm of the sofa two days before. Levi’s cock thickened behind his jeans. That’s all it took. One thought or graphic, mental visual of Alec made his body hum with a thrill that never dulled.

  It’d been a glorious two years with Alec. Buying the house was a bold move for them both, but Levi knew they were secure. They loved each other and were both committed.

  Though their preferences went both ways, which was why he and Alec were a perfect fit, the string of women Alec could usually round up had slowed. They hadn’t enjoyed the soft, warm flesh of a female in months.

  Alec blamed it on the clientele of the restaurant, that being where he made most of his connections. “They all seem so snobby lately, not the type to engage in any consensual fun with two bi guys,” he’d say.

  A light knock on the door had Levi freezing in the middle of the living room. He looked at the small bottle of KY in his hand and jammed it deep into his pocket, then went to let in his first interviewee.

  His eyes fixated on the back of her head through the small window in the door. Tousled, layered strands of dark-brown hair blew against the nape of her neck. Levi could hear the wind chimes sounding in the breeze. When his hand turned the knob, so did she. Warm hazel eyes latched onto his, the color unique. Flecks of brown and gold swam through her irises. Her thin but shapely lips curled into an easy smile, glossy with a natural pinkish hue.