With a frown he leaned over and the floorboards beneath his feet squeaked ominously.
Squealing loudly, Tierney flung herself backwards, banging her head on the underside of the sink cabinet. She dropped whatever she’d grabbed and sat back on her butt.
“Tierney!” He leapt forward to help, but she probably didn’t need him. What had he done? She simply hadn't heard him knock because she'd been doing something under the sink.
One hand reached up to the back of her head, as the other reached out and slammed the sink cabinet shut, making sure he didn’t see whatever she’d held. “Ronan? What are you doing here?”
Was she bleeding?
He leaned over but saw her shoulders sink as her free hand reached out and pushed the cabinet until it clicked closed. It clearly wasn't okay for him to see.
“I’m so sorry.” He felt like an idiot. She was probably just getting tampons or whatever out from under the sink. But he'd seen tampon boxes before, and whatever he’d glimpsed didn't look like that. He didn't imagine Tierney being the kind who would be embarrassed about a perfectly normal box of tampons.
What was she hiding?
But he didn’t ask. Sitting on her butt, she swiveled around to face him, her hand still holding the back of her head. “Hi. Sorry about that.”
“Why are you sorry? Come here.” He grabbed her by the hand and lifted her. The bathroom was so small that, when she stood, she was almost pressed full-body against him. Ronan quickly dropped her hand as though it burned.
He hadn't felt anything for some time and now all his feelings returned in sharp relief for the one person he probably shouldn't feel anything for. She was his sister-in-law. She looked like Siorse. No matter what happened, Tierney would think she was a replacement for his dead wife. And, if anything did happen, he told himself the morning after would be too awkward to even contemplate.
He shouldn't be thinking any of this.
“Turn around. Let me see your head.” There, that was appropriately brother-in-law-ly.
Reluctantly, she did so. He pushed his fingers through her soft hair telling himself he was just looking to see if she was cut, not touching a woman in any meaningful way for the first time in years.
Her hair was as red as Siorse’s but slightly darker. Where her older sister had a riot of bright curls, Tierney had slightly darker waves. He focused on the task at hand. “I don't see anything.”
“Good. It's really hard to bandage the back of your head.” She turned around to leave, but he'd stupidly not moved, and she bumped right into him.
Shit. The flare that scorched through him made him feel stupid and reminded him he wasn’t just her brother-in-law.
He stepped backwards to let her go. Of course, she brushed against him getting out of the small space. Three years! For three years, he’d felt nothing. One year, he’d drunk himself silly, and for two he'd been sober. All the local women were bending over backwards, showing up on his doorstep to bring him casseroles and he felt nothing.
Instead, everything he felt was for the one woman he couldn't take advantage of.
“It's in the kitchen,” she told him.
“What is?” His brain was in the gutter, and he was really confused.
“Not a casserole!” she laughed. “It's lasagna.”
“You made me lasagna?”
“Talia made you lasagna.”
“Oh, yum. Why didn’t she drop it by herself?” As soon as he asked it, he saw the flare in Tierney's eyes.
“You wanted Talia to drop it off?”
Was she hurt by that? No, that would be stupid. She was probably trying to set him up with her best friend.
“Talia is the only one that I actually want to stop by with her food.” Again, he saw the shift as Tierney's shoulders stiffened. Whether it was jealousy or a scheme to set him up, he decided to put a stop to it. “Talia is the only one not trying to get into my pants. She's smart, she makes good conversation that’s not about how big her bathtub is or that she was at the lingerie store the other day. And she makes a damn mean lasagna.” He paused. “I think she just does it because she's nice. Like, she knows what it is to be in the hospital for an unexpected stay.”
“That's true.” Tierney said as if maybe she hadn't considered it that way before. “Here, let me grab it for you.”
She opened the fridge and leaned down, her jeans molding around her backside.
Shit, he thought, shit, shit, shit. Maybe he should have let her set him up with Talia. It would be the safer move.
“I've got it.” He reached out and took the foil covered pan as soon as she stood up. He needed something to do with his hands. Leading her toward the front door, he realized that was a dumb move. He was full of them today.
As he reached the front door, he stepped back. “Stop.”
With his hands full, he had no way to stop her other than to bump right into her. Her soft breasts pressed into him, and he held his breath before blurting out, “You've got another dead rat on your porch. And there's something not right about it.”
Just then he heard a low hiss behind him. He almost dropped the lasagna as he whipped around to face whatever was threatening Tierney.
CHAPTER TEN
He was right. Shit, Tierney thought.
She was glad Ronan hadn't seen what she was doing under the sink, but she’d been right to check her stash. Every two years she bought a new batch so it didn't expire.
But she had been interrupted before she could see the date. She needed it, expired or not, if she was going to pull the trigger now. Looking at this rat she was right to be thinking about enacting her escape plan.
But Ronan was looking at her oddly, and her escape didn't work if anyone knew what she’d done. She would simply have to disappear.
“Look how pale it is, Tierney. It’s practically white. You said the cat's been inside since last night?”
She nodded, agreeing with him.
She and Sean had let Mr. Kittens in when he—she—wailed and pawed at the back door, right around Sean's bedtime, of course. Her son was happy to stay up late to help. Normally Mr. Kittens wanted food and, though they had refilled the little food dish, the cat had ducked inside when they opened the door and disappeared behind the washing machine.
“Did you see that cat?” Tierney asked. Ronan had agreed when she showed him the blanket and cardboard box that she and Sean had set up in the laundry room. “I don’t think she could waddle fast enough to catch anything.”
Tierney was glad she’d thought this might happen. There was no way Sean was going to let feral kittens stay outside, so she could either bring them in, or find them later. She’d put one of the on-the-skin flea meds on the cat when she was eating earlier in the week. For that, at least, she felt smart. The rest of this, not so much.
“I agree the cat’s too fat to have done this. The rat would have gotten away from her.” He gestured.
That wasn’t the real problem. Tierney took a deep breath. “I got home about an hour ago. It wasn’t here then.”
She’d brought Talia's lasagna from the bar when Ronan said he’d pick it up. She’d worked a little late today because Sean was at a friend's house after school. She was supposed to go get him in an hour.
Tierney figured she needed to have some things decided by then. But Ronan was still on the rat.
“So it happened within the last hour or so?”
“Mister kittens couldn't have gotten out. We don't have a pet door or anything. Do you think it could be another cat?” She didn’t think so, but she wanted to be wrong.
“That’s not a wild rat. Nothing that color would survive outside. It has to be a pet store rat. And look at that cut …”
She hated that she agreed. “That's what I thought about the first ones.”
“You didn't get any pictures?”
She tipped her head and stared at him as if he were an idiot. “One of them happened when I was already late out the door on the way to your house.” Shi
t. She’d told him that day that she was late because of the rat. Hopefully he didn't notice her slip. “I only find them when I'm coming or going. It makes me late to have to stop and clean it up. I didn't think to photo document it.”
He paused and looked her dead in the eye. “How many have you found, Tierney?”
“This is the fourth.”
“Since?”
“The first one was the day Sean and I told you about it at your house.” Four in a few weeks. She definitely had a predator. She only hoped it was the four-footed kind.
“That’s too many.”
She bit her lip to keep from retorting “No, shit Sherlock!” All she managed was a curt nod.
“Let’s get pictures of this one though.” Ronan pulled out his own phone and began snapping shots from different angles. “I think a person did this. But who?”
Tierney lied and said she didn't know, but she was afraid that she did. Though she turned and looked down the street, she didn't see anyone. It had been ten years. What would he even look like now? If he saw Sean, would he figure out that Sean was his?
Had he found her, or was this just some stupid kids playing a gross prank? Maybe she was overreacting because she had a bad past.
“Do you think it's professional?” she asked, wondering if someone had been hired to torment her. She could believe that one, it sounded right up his alley.
Ronan only frowned at her. “Like a rat hitman?”
Okay, that was a dumb question. One she couldn’t explain any better than to say she had a case of the stupids. She tried again. “Do you think it's kids?”
“I hope not. It's kind of sick. I can’t stomach the idea of kids torturing an animal. That’s some serial killer behavior right there.”
Lovely. In case she hadn’t thought her past was dangerous enough.
Ronan was still going. “I don't like the idea of you being here with this going on.”
Well, she didn't either. But … “I don't have a lot of other options.”
She’d done her best to save money. Tierney had always known that one day everything could change, and she might have to flee. So, she'd scraped and saved for it. The bar did well enough that her income covered some savings.
Snafu had been on the brink of death when the Doyles bought it and took over. They knew what they were doing. Despite the fact that the town was small, they turned it into a thriving business. They made it family friendly during the day and the place in town to be at night. The firefighters all came in on their off days. The police hung out, too.
The town wasn't big enough for the city workers to have their own bar. Not unless they wanted it to be Addison's and only the hardcore drinkers left Snafu in favor of Addison's.
Her thoughts ran wild. She tried to mentally count how much she’d saved. She thought through what to do with Sean. Again, Ronan wasn’t paying attention to her existential crisis.
“Did anything happen at work? Did you date somebody, and they're pissed off?”
She let out a bitter laugh. He had no idea how close to the truth he was, but she turned and once again, gave him the as if face. “When have you ever seen me date?”
“Never. But I figured you were probably able to do it even though I hadn't seen it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have a kid and rent to pay.” Then she waved her hand around as if to say, and dead rats to clean off my doorstep.
“Well, this one’s photographed,” he announced. “Let's get it disposed of. Do you want me to take it to the vet or anything?”
“I don’t think she’s open yet and for what? It's a rat and it's dead. It's not like she can save it. Do they do rat autopsies?”
“Probably not.” Ronan helped her clean the front step off. This time they put it in a trash bag and he tossed it into the can before climbing into his car with his Talia-made lasagna.
Then he drove away with every hope she'd ever had.
Her heart heavy, Tierney headed back inside, closing the door behind her and hopefully stopping anyone who was watching. In the laundry room, Mr. Kittens meowed pitifully. But Tierney crawled back under the bathroom sink to finish the task that had been interrupted earlier.
Pulling out the box, she flipped it over. Thank God! Not expired.
Tapping it against her leg, she tried to decide if she should pull the trigger or not.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tierney clutched the steering wheel, her knuckles white with tension. Fighting with her subconscious, she tried to loosen her fingers and hoped that Sean wouldn’t notice. But her eyes glanced into the rearview mirror far too often. The road was mostly deserted, still she slowed down and let most every car pass so she couldn’t be followed. She was strung far too tight, and Sean was a bright child, he had to have figured out at least part of it.
So far, she thought they weren’t being followed. One point in her favor.
The problem was the more she told him, the more dangerous it was for him. And everyone else.
“Are you going to be okay, Mom?”
What a shitty question for a kid to have to ask. He was being far too quiet. His usually boisterous personality had been completely squashed with the tension. Tierney saw no other options, but she wished it hadn't scared him so much. She couldn't just say yes, not without lying. She’d promised herself she’d not lie to her child. The last time she’d been in this position, she’d barely survived. She couldn’t just toss out a pat “don’t worry!”
After Ronan had left her house, she’d checked out her stash, grabbed her bag, and gotten everything ready just in case. Sean wouldn’t be pleased if she cut his afternoon with his friend short, so she’d burned some time.
She’d rolled around social media, started dinner prep, then logged in and checked her email again. Though she told herself she was being paranoid checking so often, it also relieved her stress. When nothing new popped up, she could breathe easier for the next several hours.
Not this time.
Another email taunted her from her inbox. Her heart leapt upward, clogging her throat as she wished she hadn’t checked. The anxiety was better than this feeling. She could see in the preview that it was from a medical supplement company promising to make her sex life better. It would have been funny except that, when she clicked on it, there was no denying that it was addressed to Emmie Baby.
The first Emily, and even the Emmie email, could have been coincidence. But they’d come so close together—that had been the first sign. She hadn’t gotten any mislabeled emails in so long. Not to Jana or Tucker or even for Sean. So, she’d told herself that it was coincidence. Now she told herself, she lived a life that didn't allow for coincidence.
No one would have done that. No one but him.
He’d found her.
She grabbed the bag and pulled the burner phone from the bottom drawer of her dresser. Using the number she’d long ago memorized, Tierney made the call she'd always feared making.
The voice on the other end of the line had answered after the third ring, bless her. “Hey, are you checking in?”
“No.” That one word was enough to cut deeply. She’d never wanted to have to do this, but Tierney reminded herself that she was grateful she’d been smart and set this up years ago.
“Oh shit. Are you safe?”
“So far.”
She and Raven had met in the maternity ward when she'd had Sean. Raven had given birth to Jacob and asked Tierney about her baby's father. At sixteen, Tierney hadn't been great at evasion. Raven, at twenty, had been through it herself and figured it out really quick. They'd agreed to be each other’s backups.
The two young mothers had met face to face only once more, when the babies were two weeks old. They exchanged numbers, and the burner phones they were still using today. They maintained no contact in any way other than random check-ins several times a year to say they were safe and be sure the other was too.
That they didn’t have any contact in any traceable capacity was import
ant. It made it much, much harder to be traced if either of them needed a place to stash their child. Their lack of any obvious connection might be Tierney’s only saving grace right now.
She breathed deeply and checked the time. She’d picked up Sean and headed straight out of town. At the two-hour mark, she pulled over and ordered a pizza. It was the least she could do given how she was pulling her child up by the roots. She next paid for the motel room in cash, and then they picked up their order.
But they hadn’t stayed. All she had done was take the box of hair dye she’d stashed—so there would be no recent record of her purchase—and colored Sean’s hair. He’d not dyed it since he’d made it bright blue one summer. That had been for fun, and she tried to make it fun now though she knew in every organ that it was anything but. Tierney changed her child from a towheaded blonde, like his birth father, to a brown-haired imp. It changed the shape of his face and made him look older. She felt like shit that the changes made her relieved.
When the pizza and soda was decimated, and his hair was dry and his clothing changed, they climbed back in the car. There was one more hour to go and way too much to explain.
Tierney glanced over at him, her heart breaking.
Sean rolled his eyes. “Just tell me, Mom.”
“Okay. Before you were born, I knew someone who was terrible. He almost killed me, and I think he's back.”
What a horribly awful thing to have to say to her child.
“Is he trying to kill you?” Sean didn’t seem like he was losing it. Good kid. It just sucked that he had to be.
“He hasn't tried yet.” She had to say yet. She always promised herself she'd never lie to him. Her parents had lied to her. They said they were trying to protect her—she no longer believed that—but based on what they told her, she’d thought one way and made shitty decisions. She couldn’t do that to him.
Sean might only be nine, but if he got stuck somewhere, he needed to know who he could trust and who he couldn't. He would need to make better choices than she had.
“Is this why we had dead rats on our porch? It wasn't Mr. Kittens?”
Down in Flames (Wildfire Hearts Book 5) Page 5