Need You Now Read online

  I need to get to my Daddy. I clawed and scratched at the arms securing me, but they didn’t let me go. A deep, steady voice rang out behind me. “Haven, honey? We need to get you out of here. Someone call an ambulance!”

  Chapter 2

  COLTON

  Present Day

  Being an investigative journalist in Jackson Hole, Wyoming might not have sounded as exciting as doing the same job in some of the larger cities, but it was to me.

  The company I worked for was one of the major ones. Our head office was based in Washington and we covered stories all around the country. Nowadays, with so much being able to be accomplished online, I didn’t even need to travel all that much to get the inside scoop on the biggest stories around.

  My family had moved here when I was eleven, so while I’d done my fair share of traveling for my job in the past, Jackson Hole was home. Unlike some, I had none of that relentless need to get out of my hometown.

  I loved it there. The fresh air, the people, the pace of life? It all suited me just fine.

  In fact, if I could move out into the country from the city, I’d do it in a heartbeat. A nice farm with a few horses? Fuck yeah. Sign me up.

  But I also loved my job, which was why I still lived in the city and would probably stay put. My career came before just about everything else in my life, including my secret dreams of moving to a farm.

  Besides, that was what retirement was for. I could always start farming once the newspaper eventually kicked my ass to the curb. Until then, I was perfectly happy right where I was.

  I had a corner office on the top floor of our building downtown, made a living out of researching and writing, and had moved into a newly refurbished condo a couple of months back.

  Life was good.

  I kicked my feet up on the windowsill behind my desk and hooked my arms behind my head, looking out over the bustling sidewalks at the start of lunchtime. My stomach grumbled, and I wondered if I’d be able to drag Ross away from work to grab something to eat before I started looking for a new story this afternoon.

  Several tips were waiting in my inbox, but I’d just submitted the last installment of a series of articles exposing corruption in the local government of one of the neighboring counties. I needed to eat before diving headfirst into the next.

  The door burst open behind me without a knock, cluing me into who it was before my friend and editor even opened his mouth. “I just read your story on the couple who disappeared in Yellowstone National Park. Do you really think that was a good idea? Who’s going to come to town if that’s what’s being written about it?”

  “You’re the one who approved that piece,” I said, dropping my feet and spinning my chair around to face him. “Check the signature on your emails. It says ‘Ross Oliver: Editor.’ Generally, that means you assign the stories and all that shit.”

  He smirked and raked a hand through his neatly styled blond hair, lifting one shoulder before lowering himself into the chair across from mine. “That’s true. It also means I’m your boss, right? Did I get that wrong?”

  “Unfortunately, you didn’t get it wrong. Some idiot decided to put you in charge.” I raised my chin and noticed how he was shaking with silent laughter.

  He snapped his fingers. “You know, I think I remember approving that piece now. It was a great story, bro. Nothing to complain about. Well done.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Why are we friends again?”

  “Because you love me,” he said in a sugar-sweet voice while pressing his hands to his chest. “You know this heart right here beats only for you, baby.”

  I snorted. “Did the girl you took home last night know that? Seemed to me she thought that black lump you call a heart beat only for her.”

  “She wasn’t interested in my heart.” He sat back and wagged his brows at me. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Pretty sure even a fifth grader would know what you meant.” I shook my head, rolling my chair across the hardwood floors back to my desk. “What’s up? You didn’t just come in here to talk shit about a story I submitted two weeks ago.”

  “Nope.” His ice-blue eyes lit up. “I wanted to know what your plans are for this weekend. I got tickets.”

  “Tickets?” I frowned. “For what? There are no bands in town I know about.”

  He gave me a mock pout. “I know. We should move. There are always great bands playing everywhere but here.”

  “We also missed the last few because we got wasted before and I had to keep you from taking an entire women’s volleyball team back to your place that one time.”

  “I still don’t know why you did that.” He sighed. “I would’ve let you have a few of them. There were more than enough of them to go around.”

  I propped my forearms on the mahogany desk. “Did you skip every sex-ed session we had at school? Or do you just really want to experience an STD?”

  “I was too busy doing other things during sex ed.” He winked. “Have you ever heard of condoms? I use them. STD problem solved.”

  I laughed. “I won’t be coming to see you in the hospital. Also, don’t expect any sympathy from me when your dick falls off or your balls shrivel up.”

  “If anyone’s at risk of their balls shriveling up or their dick falling off, it’s you. And it’ll be from disuse.” He inclined his head at me, narrowing his eyes. “How long has it been anyway? Are you scared? Do you need Super Ross to talk you through how to pick up women again?”

  “Super Ross?” I snorted and waved a hand at him. “Actually, I don’t want to know why you’re calling yourself that now. I’m not scared. I don’t need you to talk me through any-fucking-thing, so drop it.”

  “Super Ross was the nickname given to me by Bernie. You remember Bernie, right? The pretty blonde waitress from the other night?”

  “As I recall, she’s the same Bernie who supposedly gave Luther crabs last year. Good luck with that.”

  He turned pale before flipping me off, but at least that shut him up. The downside of having lived here for so long was that I knew a lot of people, and they knew me. I’d gotten away for a few years for college, but after I got back, I moved into a neighborhood close to the one I’d grown up in.

  Just about everyone I’d grown up with still lived around there too. Ross included. I loved this city, but I didn’t always have to love how small it was.

  Our population was just over ten thousand. Obviously, I didn’t know them all, but sometimes, it sure felt like I did.

  On the other hand, depending on how many of those ten thousand were women, Ross probably knew more people than I did. The guy was a total dick to most people, but he also had the charisma of an A-list celebrity who still gave a fuck about his reputation, and frankly, he looked a little like one too.

  Blond hair, blue eyes, spent a ton of time working out. Women loved him and he loved them. For all of his man-whoring ways though, he’d always been a surprisingly good friend to me. I’d met him the first day Mom and I had arrived in town, and he’d been with me through every horrible, bad, great, okay, or good moment since.

  “Come on, man,” he said. “Surely, it’s time you got back in the saddle.”

  “Uh, let me think about it. No.” I stabbed the enter key on my computer to wake it up. “I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some lunch before we got back to work, but I’ve lost my appetite. Why did you ask about the weekend?”

  “Talking about STDs made you lose your appetite?” he joked. “Your stomach has become weaker than I thought.”

  “Yeah, sure. That was what did it.” I tried not to roll my eyes again. “Why did you ask about the weekend?”

  “Oh, right.” He scooted forward on his chair. “There’s an outdoor festival for people who brew their own beer. It’s a charity thing for some of the local animal shelters. You in?”

  “You got free tickets to a charity thing?” I scoffed. “I’ll pay for my own, but yeah. Sure. I’m in.”

  He grinned, tapped o
ut a drum roll with his hands on his thighs, and stood up. “Excellent. Hey, good job on that last piece. I have a meeting to get to, but I’ll see you later.”

  I lifted my brows but didn’t comment on his short memory of why he’d come in here in the first place. Ross was like that. His mind worked at a million miles an hour, and sometimes, that could make him seem forgetful.

  After he breezed out of my office, I opened the internet to look up this festival. Few people knew this about me, but I was an animal-lover at heart.

  Feel-good pieces weren’t really my thing, but I could write one up if it was for a good cause. As I looked through the website, I ended up on the page listing the donors for the event. Most of them were the same people who usually sponsored this sort of thing, but there was one I didn’t recognize.

  It piqued my interest because I kept my finger on the pulse of the charity scene. I liked to know the donors. I occasionally wrote stories about their contributions as a way of making one of my own, and I prided myself on always knowing who the new kids on the block were.

  Some of it was purely professional interest. More than a few of my better stories had started with my noticing irregular donations or something like it. Charities could be a hotbed for all kinds of criminal activity, but money laundering was a firm favorite.

  Bogus organizations popped up all the time. They made a few donations to keep up appearances, but that was it.

  It wasn’t only a professional interest, though. There was a very personal element to it. Someone had once done something for me that I could never repay, and I’d made it my life’s mission to help others wherever I could as a way of paying that kindness back.

  Sometimes, it was by exposing the bad stuff done by the bad people of the world. Other times, it was by making sure people like legitimate donors got a bit of free advertising by doing stories about them.

  Which begged the question, which of those categories did this EM Martinez fit into? Because the sudden appearance of a main sponsor I’d never even heard about before, for an event that seemed like it was going to be a rather large one, made all my Spidey senses tingle.

  Well, well, well. Maybe I’ve just found my latest story.

  Chapter 3

  HAVEN

  Weighing in at a whopping one hundred and seventy pounds, my Mastiff was nothing short of colossal. Her shoulder reached my hip and her head was broader than my body. Walking down the street with her often felt like I was walking a small horse instead of a big dog.

  When I’d first opened up the clinic here and my neighbors on this street had been uninitiated, they had hurried into their businesses to avoid an encounter with the black-masked giant. That quickly changed once they’d gotten to know Mae, though.

  She was patient and kind, and even though she was also naturally wary of strangers, she never snapped or barked at anyone. Well, not at my neighbors anyway.

  We’d been here for two months, and by now, I had to leave home earlier so Mae could get in her morning cuddles on our way to work. Mrs. Methi, who owned the pet shop next door, cooed when she saw us arriving, turning her back on the dog-food display she was busy setting up to wave at me and pet Mae’s head.

  “Good morning, darlings. Did you have a good night?”

  I smiled. “The best. I think we’re finally all unpacked and settled in.”

  “That’s great news.” She smiled. “Your intern starts today, right?”

  A shiver of nervous energy ran through me. “Yep. Now we just have to hope Mae doesn’t make a scene about having someone new in our space.”

  Mrs. Methi laughed while I unlocked the front doors to the clinic, but my dog ignored me. She wasn’t so good at providing reassurances when it came to worries about her behavior. As soon as the door swung open, she took off and curled up in a bed that was way too small for her.

  “I think that’s her way of saying everything will be fine,” my neighbor said. “You have a nice day, honey. Good luck with the intern.”

  She gave me another wave before going back to her display. I followed Mae into the clinic, loving the smell of industrial cleaner, faint vanilla, and disinfectant that infused the air inside.

  Veterinarian clinics weren’t known for their pleasant smells, but I did my best. I kept the place spotless, had separate air systems in the kennels than the public spaces, and had invested in a scent-distribution system for the front and waiting room—hence the vanilla.

  I hummed under my breath as I hung up Mae’s leash, which I’d unclipped when we’d gotten close enough. Then I opened up the doors to let the fresh morning air in. I took a deep breath through my nose before flipping the sign on my window to open.

  The worst moment of my entire life had happened right here in Jackson Hole, but I’d also been raised here. Mom and I might’ve moved away again after Dad’s accident, but I’d always felt like this was home.

  I’d never forgotten that last conversation I had with Dad and how he’d hoped we’d be able to stay here. It had made me feel like this was where I belonged, despite what had happened later that very same day.

  Strangely, being here again made me feel closer to him. Probably because I could visit his grave now that I was back.

  Once again, I was the new kid. But this time, it was by my own choice.

  The years since I’d left here hadn’t always been kind to me, but I was a qualified veterinarian now, and I owned my own animal clinic, so I couldn’t complain too much.

  I tied my hair back before I went to check on the animals that had stayed overnight, and I surveyed my small waiting area and the unmanned front desk. At the moment, I fulfilled all the roles here. With the new intern starting today, I was hopeful that she would be willing to help me out with some of the other stuff while we weren’t in the examination room.

  The space out here was small, but it was also bright. I’d hung posters and pictures on the walls, had an assortment of toys in a crate for furry patients who had to wait, and more toys and treats on display to be sold.

  I’d painted the walls a soft yellow and always opened the windows early enough that it wouldn’t get musty in here during the day. My chest swelled as I moved through to the former backyard where the kennels were located.

  All my overnight guests were happy to see me, their tails wagging if they were of the canine variety. The feline guests didn’t show their happiness quite so overtly, but no one hissed at me either.

  I started singing under my breath again as I checked them, refilled their food and water bowls, and swept the concrete pathway in front of the kennels. By the time I was done, beads of sweat dotted my forehead but I was ready for the day to begin.

  When I walked back inside, there was a young woman waiting for me at the front desk. She smiled nervously when she noticed me, then raised her hand in a shy wave.

  “Hi, I’m Kayla. We spoke on the phone?” Her voice was soft but confident. “I’m supposed to start interning here today.”

  “Right. Of course.” I motioned for her to follow me to the tiny office down the hall. “I’d shake your hand, but I haven’t washed mine yet, and it’s been a busy morning. It’s nice to meet you, Kayla. I’m Haven.”

  She giggled. “That’s okay. I understand. I hope I’m not late.”

  “Not at all,” I said, turning my head to talk to her over my shoulder. “I just like to get a really early start to get some things done before we officially open the doors for appointments.”

  The door creaked when I pushed it open, reminding me that I still needed to oil the old hinges, and I gestured for her to take a seat while I went to the sink on the right. Kayla sat down right on the edge of the chair, folding her hands in her lap before playing with a simple gold ring around her index finger.

  The girl was clearly anxious, but so was I. I’d never had an intern before, and I wasn’t quite sure how to set her at ease, other than trying to get to know her. She looked different than I’d expected, much more prim and polished.

  Her lig
ht brown curls tumbled down her back and were kept out of her face by a red ribbon tied around her head. Alert, bright green eyes swept across the office while I washed my hands, and she sat up straight as if she had an unyielding steel rod for a spine.

  When we’d spoken on the phone, I remembered thinking she had a bit of a cleaner, crisper accent than most people I knew. It made sense now, considering her jeans looked like they cost more than all the furniture in the office put together.

  Unease gripped my insides, but I tried to keep my exterior calm and neutral as I dried my hands. “There we go. I’m not gross anymore, so let’s start over.”

  She got up, moving to shake my hand with that gracefulness rich people tended to have. “It’s very nice to meet you, Haven. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  My hopes of getting her to help out with some other tasks at the clinic crashed and burned. This didn’t look like the kind of girl who got her hands dirty. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to have you here. What school did you say you went to again?”

  “I didn’t.” She withdrew her hand from mine and dropped her gaze. “But I go to the University of California, Davis.”

  Thank God she wasn’t looking at me because my eyes bugged out for a second. I cleared my throat in the hopes of removing any traces of awe from my voice and went to take my seat.

  “UCD ranked second in the world for veterinarian sciences last year, didn’t they?” I asked, even though I didn’t need to. It was true.

  She nodded with another shy smile. “Yes, ma’am. That was us.”

  “Why are you doing your internship here then?” I frowned when I realized what I’d just said. “I mean, why not closer to school?”

  “I grew up around here. My whole family lives in town. When I heard we needed to find internships, I just knew I wanted to come home to do mine.”