Tethered Souls

by Beth Flynn

  "You knew they were moving!" he screamed at both parents. "You both knew, and you purposely didn't tell me. I want to know why?"

  Anthony stared angrily at his son and without breaking his gaze said in a low whisper, "Christy, why don't you get Daisy ready for bed? Christian and I will finish this conversation in the garage."

  Still staring at his father, Christian realized his seven-year-old sister Daisy may have been within earshot. He lowered his voice and said, "Something isn't right. You used to ask Mimi to babysit, and I don't believe for a second she got too busy. You didn't want us to hook up, and now I know why. You knew they were moving. And you didn't want me to know that. Why?"

  "Don't be so hard on him, babe," Christy said to Anthony as she gave her son an understanding yet sad look. She knew that beneath the anger, Christian was feeling the pain of unrequited love. She had watched him silently pine over Mimi for years. And he was right. She and Anthony had discouraged any contact between the teens since last year. They even let Christian sit in jail for one of his minor stunts longer than necessary to keep him distracted and away from Mimi Dillon. And they'd had a very good reason. They knew the day would come when Ginny would move away from Florida. Their friend would be disconnecting herself from everyone and everything associated with her past. It was imperative that she leave the state, and the reason behind it was huge. They also knew it was something they could never share with another soul, and that included their sons, Slade and Christian.

  Mimi's mother, Ginny, had a secret that would've been impossible for her to continue concealing. Especially in South Florida. Anthony and Christy felt they needed to respect the family’s decision to move away and cut themselves off from their old life in Florida. The family had to sever all ties. And that would include ignoring the feelings they knew Christian had for Mimi since they were children.

  They were standing in the kitchen, and as Christy walked away, she saw Anthony roughly shove Christian toward the door that led out to their garage.

  "If you ever raise your voice to your mother like that again, I'll knock your teeth down your throat. You got—"

  Anthony's voice floated away as he shut the door behind them.

  Storming into the garage, Christian swung around to face his father, fists clenched at his sides. Anthony Bear was an imposing man. He was a full-blooded Native American with a muscular build who stood at six feet six inches tall. He was covered in tattoos and had jet-black straight hair that reached his belt. The slight streaks of gray at his temples were the only thing that contrasted his dark skin, hair, and eyes. Right now, those eyes were boring into his son's.

  Nearing six feet tall, a soon-to-be eighteen-year-old Christian Bear wasn't intimidated. Just as dark and foreboding as his father, it was Christian's blue eyes that contrasted his dark features.

  "I'll apologize to Mom later,” he huffed. "But you two were wrong to keep this from me. I can't believe they're moving to Montana so that Aunt Ginny can be with some jerk named James. And why all the secrecy? What's the big deal, Dad?"

  "You know the horrors that family has been through this past year. You know that Mimi's real father, Grizz, died on death row. You know the only father she's ever known, Tommy, was killed in a robbery gone wrong. You know that before Tommy died, he was being dragged into some court case involving the murder of Blue's ex-wife. And I sure as hell know you know that Mimi was almost raped last year."

  "Of course I know all that. And about Mimi's attempted rape—if it wasn’t for me, it would've happened. And besides, I'm the one that told you about it!" Christian growled.

  "Can you blame Ginny for wanting to move, Son?" Anthony asked.

  "I didn't think Aunt Ginny knew what had happened to Mimi," Christian replied, his tone calmer.

  "She doesn’t know, and she never will. Breaking ties with us, and from South Florida, will guarantee that. She wants to start over, and we're respecting her wishes, Christian. It's your own fault for slacking for so long in the romance department. Maybe if you'd been more aggressive with your feelings for Mimi, things might be a little different. Maybe you'd have been trusted with their specific destination. You're taking it too personally." Anthony crossed his arms and leaned back on Christy's car.

  "Tell me how I can get in touch with Mimi. What's their new address in Montana?" Christian demanded.

  Anthony didn't answer.

  "Fine. Mom will give it to me," Christian said haughtily.

  "Your mother and I don't know it," Anthony countered.

  "Bullshit!" Christian replied, his voice going up an octave.

  "Christian, we don't have a forwarding address. Ginny left no way for us to contact her. When and if she's ever ready, she'll be in touch with us." Anthony would never tell Christian that Ginny told them they could be contacted through her friends Carter and Bill. The Bears would only use this resource in the case of an emergency. Unfortunately, Christian's broken heart didn't qualify.

  "Why do I have the feeling if I were Slade asking you this, I'd be getting a different answer?" Christian demanded, his voice cracking.

  Anthony raised an eyebrow. "Slade would be getting the same answer you're getting. We don't know how to get in touch with her. And what is your problem with your brother? Are you still mad that he didn't put Mimi’s attacker in the hospital?"

  "Damn straight, I'm mad!" Christian hissed. He stood taller and took a more assertive stance, thrusting his fists on his hips.

  Anthony pushed off the car and stood to face his son, looking down into his angry blue eyes.

  "Your brother was smart. Smarter than you," he said in a low voice. He watched Christian wince in reaction to the words.

  "So, because he's in college he's a big damn deal to be worshiped and adored?"

  "First, he was taking college courses at night while still in high school. When he moved out to start at the university, he already had an associate degree under his belt. Does that make him smart? Yeah, it does. But it means more than that. It shows he has ambition. He has drive. He's willing to work for what he wants.” Anthony stopped and pointed his finger at Christian. “Second, should you be worshiped and adored for screwing up with Axel and losing your mechanic job? Or for sitting in jail for stealing Escalade hood ornaments that you could sell to your idiotic friends to wear around their necks? I don't think so, Christian." He lowered his hand and moved closer to his son, giving him a look that dared him to challenge his last comments.

  "The hood ornament crap was stupid. It was nothing, and I still don't know who tipped off the cops resulting in me getting pinched. I never get caught," he sneered. Then he recognized a look in his father's eyes. "Shit, Dad! It was you, wasn't it? You tipped off the cops. You're the reason I went to jail, and you let me sit there too!"

  Anthony didn't deny it, and before he knew it, he was deflecting a punch aimed for his face. In a flash, he managed to twist his son around and slam him hard against the hood of the car, pinning his right arm tightly against his back.

  "Your temper is your biggest weakness, Christian. You keep this up, and you'll be stealing car parts the rest of your life to get by. If you don’t spend it in prison." Anthony had bent to whisper in Christian’s ear, his voice deep and serious.

  "You were the leader of a motorcycle club in Naples. I know what you're capable of," Christian growled over his shoulder. "And you prefer a son with a college degree who's going to sit behind a desk and take orders from some snot-nosed corporate shit?"

  Anthony released his son and took a step back as Christian turned around. He was impressed. He knew that he was close to breaking Christian's arm, but Christian never flinched, whined or gave any indication that he was in pain.

  "I prefer a son who uses his brains to be successful, and more importantly, knows when to use his brawn and when not to. I'm not telling you not to be physical. I'm telling you to be smart about it. Anything done in haste and anger will come back to bite you."

  Christian gave a derisive laugh. "In other words,
you want a son who's a wuss?"

  Anthony didn't reply. He shook his head as Christian pressed the garage door button and headed toward his motorcycle parked in the driveway. "I don't need anything from you or Mom. Mimi said she'd be in touch with me and I believe her," he called out over his shoulder. "And there's nothing you can do about that."

  Anthony watched Christian jump on his bike and speed off.

  "You don’t know how wrong you are, Son," he said to no one as he took a deep and calming breath before heading inside to kiss his little girl goodnight.

  Chapter 5

  Pumpkin Rest, South Carolina 2007

  “Christiannn!” Mimi screamed as he slammed the massive door to the lake house and headed down the steps toward his truck. Her voice echoed in his brain and it wasn't until he closed his truck door that he was able to clear it from his head.

  As he drove down the dusty and lonely road that would take him to Mimi's car, Christian mentally berated himself for handling her the way he had. Swiping his hand through his long hair, he tried to ignore the scent that filled the small space. Mimi still smelled the same. Unlike his mother, who could detect the aroma of a rainstorm miles away, Christian wasn't a man who could identify a particular scent. Yet he didn't forget one, and Mimi's essence had lingered in his soul all these years, taunting him.

  He’d had plenty of time to think during his long drive to South Carolina and was certain he’d put his original anger about the past behind him. He’d been genuinely happy to see her at Pumpkin Rest and considered coming clean with her and hoping she’d have a civil conversation with him. It wasn’t until she got in his truck that the anger started to simmer again. Memories of their last night together and the empty promise that he’d clung to for five long years threatened to boil to the surface when she stared out the truck window and started concocting lies about her new stepfather, James. Once they reached the house he decided to give her another chance and was enjoying their lighthearted banter during the tour of the house. It wasn't until he started asking her questions that he’d already known the answers to, based on facts from the private investigator’s report, that he began to change his mind. Those facts weren’t particularly important, yet Mimi still felt compelled to lie about them. When she figured out the ruse about his family's visit, he used his anger as an excuse to restrain her and whipped out the handcuffs before he could stop himself.

  He shook his head as he pulled up to Mimi’s car. How did I go from being angry enough to make the drive to South Carolina to find her, to being glad to see her, to handcuffing her to a post? The answer was simple. His feelings for her were stronger than he cared to admit, yet he knew they'd always been there. Only Mimi could have this effect on him. He didn’t give one shit about any other woman he’d been with. Not one. The irony wasn’t lost on him that the only female who did get to him, was the only one he’d never been physical with. He'd never even kissed Mimi. What was this hold she had on him since childhood? Whatever it was, he would confront it over the next couple of days and then bury it. Along with anything he might’ve thought he felt for Mimi Dillon.

  After Christian lifted the hood of her car and disconnected crucial wiring, he rifled through her trunk and grabbed her bag. Noticing the laundry basket filled with clothes, he tucked it under the same arm. He slammed the trunk closed with his free hand, got in his truck and headed back to the house.

  He thought about moving her car to the rental house but decided against it. It wasn't because he thought she might give him the slip, it was because it wasn't necessary. This road wouldn't be traveled by anyone other than him. And on the off chance someone could see it from the air, the green car blended in perfectly with the canopy of trees that covered it.

  He made the drive up the solitary road, pondering the challenge he faced at the end of it. Tossing aside the memories of the deep feelings he'd harbored for years and the mixed emotions he'd been juggling since his trek to Pumpkin Rest, he decided the best way to deal with Mimi would be to treat her like he'd treated all females. He would get the answer to his question and have her apologizing before dinner. And like every woman he'd ever encountered, she'd be throwing herself at him before the night was over, no doubt waking up in his bed tomorrow morning.

  He told himself that Mimi would just be another meaningless lay. All he had to do now was convince himself he believed it.

  Chapter 6

  Pumpkin Rest, South Carolina 2007

  The silence in the beautiful lake house was resounding. Or maybe it wasn't the silence, but the pounding of my heart reverberating in my head.

  My wrists were almost raw from tugging at the handcuffs. Rawness that matched my sore throat from screaming Christian's name for a full five minutes after I heard his truck drive away. I knew he couldn't hear me, but yelling made me feel like I was doing something since I wasn't getting anywhere with freeing myself from my restraints.

  Wishing I hadn't wasted so much energy, I slowly slunk back to the floor. I wrapped my legs around the beam and pressed my forehead against it. It was then that I noticed the stinging in my forearms. Casting a wary glance at each arm, I realized that the tender insides of both of them were bright red and filled with splinters. I'd been so engaged in my useless tug of war, I hadn't noticed that my arms were teeming with scratches that were deep enough to draw blood.

  I sighed as I glanced around the tastefully furnished room, unconsciously admiring the soft leathery couches, the vibrant wall tapestries portraying mountain scenes, and the black baby grand piano nestled in a far corner. It reminded me of my own home in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, just over the border in North Carolina. The home where my family was going about their daily routine, having no clue of what I had gotten myself into.

  "I suppose it could be worse," I said to no one. At least it wasn’t a cabin with no plumbing or electricity. I shuddered when I thought about the kinds of creatures that took up residence in some of those old hunting shacks.

  "You're handcuffed to a post in the middle of nowhere and you're thinking about plumbing and spiders?" I scolded myself out loud.

  I forced myself to take a calming breath and considered what Christian had said moments before leaving me chained to the beam. He'd accused me of lying to him when my family moved away from Florida five years ago. I hadn't lied to him. I'd honored what I'd told him. He had some nerve flinging accusations at me after what he'd done. It was bad enough that I'd been rejected by his older brother, Slade. But the pain Christian inflicted had been much worse. He'd shattered my heart into a million pieces.

  Five Years Earlier

  It had been only a couple of months since my family had made the move to North Carolina. I sat on the front porch swing and wrote in my journal as I reflected over the summer. I was elated that my family chose to only go as far as North Carolina instead of moving all the way to Montana. The lazy creaking of the swing was comforting, soothing, as were my happy memories of my first summer in the mountains.

  The previous two months had been filled with cementing new and lifelong friendships. Most of them with my cousins. Cousins with whom I’d be starting my senior year in high school. Cousins I hadn't known existed this time last year. I’d also caught myself thinking about someone who would never be part of this new chapter in my life. Thinking of and missing this person so badly my heart physically ached. My father, Tommy Dillon. He wasn't my biological father, but he was the man who'd raised me. The man I’d called Daddy. The man who'd died last year leaving me, my mom, and my younger brother, Jason, alone. That was until my mother discovered that my biological father, Grizz, was still alive and wanted very much to be part of our lives. The only way that was possible was for us to leave South Florida. We’d left soon after my mother tracked down Grizz's family, insisting that he meet them. The family Grizz hadn't known about until last year.

  So here we were, cut off from all of our ties to South Florida. Cut off by choice and thriving in our new home near long-lost relatives. Ye
s, I thought to myself, North Carolina definitely feels like home. With one exception.

  Him.

  Christian Bear.

  How had I not seen it when I was still living in Fort Lauderdale? I remembered feeling attracted to him the morning he drove me home after babysitting the night before for his little sister, Daisy. The same night I'd suffered a humiliating rejection from his older brother, Slade.

  The months following that encounter seemed like a blur. I remembered calling Christian's mother, Christy, several times asking if she needed me to babysit again. But the answer was always the same. She would keep me in mind and let me know. I remembered thinking that maybe she was trying to help me get over Slade’s gentle rebuff, guessing that my mother had probably mentioned it to her. But that wasn't why I wanted to babysit. I realized that I was hoping to run into Christian again—to gauge my feelings for him.

  Months passed and there hadn't been any occasions to see the Bear family. After not getting any replies to the texts I sent him, I convinced myself the ride home Christian had given me was just that, a ride home. And I believed it. Until our last night in Florida. My mom, my brother, Jason, and I spent that last evening in Fort Lauderdale having dinner at the Bear home. I tried to act casually while we were eating, but noticed Christian's demeanor change after his mother mentioned it was a going-away dinner for my family. He left the table without giving any of us a backward glance.

  I finished the meal in silence and was secretly disappointed that he hadn't returned to the table. I'd excused myself from the after-dinner goodbyes and went to his bedroom, knocking lightly on the door. When he didn't answer, I opened it and went inside. He'd been throwing darts, and I remembered a lump formed in my throat when he turned to look at me, dropping the dart to the floor with a thud. I'd been so startled by what I saw in his expression I forgot to ask him why he'd never responded to any of my texts. I'd stopped sending them after the fifth or sixth one went unanswered.