by Chant, Zoe
Malachi was unsurprised to find that he was still angry.
He went downstairs. Called Flynn, who was manning the sheriff’s desk, learned that there was nothing urgent that needed Malachi’s attention today, thankfully. He could stay here and guard Elizabeth without worrying about the town’s safety.
Of course, that left him with nothing to do. Hayley was going to be at work for another couple of hours. It was just him and the empty house.
The empty house that was hosting a guest. A pregnant guest who had been told to rest by her doctor.
Malachi looked around with a new eye. There were towels in the laundry basket. Dust accumulating on the furniture—did pregnancy cause any issues with the respiratory system? Probably; from what he could remember about when Amanda had been pregnant with Hayley, it seemed to cause issues with literally every single part of the body.
Could there be mold anywhere? What about the kitchen, was it clean and safe? What cleaning products were safe around pregnant women?
Malachi spent a few minutes with Google, and then armed himself with vinegar and baking soda and some hefty scrubbing tools and went to work.
***
“Whoa, Dad,” Hayley said as she came in the door. “Why does everything smell like vinegar?”
“That should dissipate,” Malachi said with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “It’s just been a while since we’ve cleaned up the place really well.”
“But why are you doing it with vinegar—oh my God, look at those gloves. Look at you. Dad!” Hayley was laughing at him.
He supposed he did make kind of a picture. Rubber gloves, a sponge, a spray bottle, and he was sure he had spiderwebs in his hair and baking soda dusted over most of his clothes. His knees were damp from when he’d made the mistake of cleaning the bathroom floor before getting down to scrub behind the toilet.
He felt better, though, somehow. Like he’d done something to help. And deep cleaning was a surprisingly thorough workout.
“Quiet,” he told Hayley, with as much dignity as he could muster. “Elizabeth’s asleep.”
“Oh.” She glanced up, and lowered her voice. “Is that why you’ve turned into Mr. Clean?”
“We haven’t had a guest in a while,” he told her. “And it’s better for the baby if things are clean.”
“Sure, Dad.” She dropped her bag by the door and plopped down on the couch, still staring at him. “Is she, like—okay?”
He hesitated, wondering how much he should say. Then he stripped off his gloves and sat down next to her. “She’s very, very tired. She said that Reid told her she had to rest. So we’re not going to bother her or keep her awake when she should be sleeping.”
“Okay.” Hayley was studying him, clearly waiting for more.
“She—the father of her baby isn’t behaving very nicely,” Malachi said. He didn’t want to betray Elizabeth’s personal business, but he needed Hayley to be aware that something might happen. “It’s possible he might try to find her. So if any strange man shows up here—”
“I know the home invasion protocols, Dad, don’t worry.” Hayley made a mock-salute.
“Good. Don’t forget. Be careful.”
“I promise.” Hayley bit her lip. “That sucks that her—is he her boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend, I think.” He’d better be her ex by now. Malachi had called him that, upstairs, and Elizabeth hadn’t objected. And she wasn’t wearing a ring, and hadn’t said anything to indicate that Nevin might be her fiancé or husband. No, she’d said they’d been dating. Good. No legal ties to potentially complicate her getting away and staying away.
“That sucks that he’s being an asshole.”
“Language, Hayley.”
“Sorry. A jerk. Did he not want the baby or something?”
“I don’t know about that.” He realized that he didn’t even know whether Nevin knew she was pregnant. “I know he’s angry because of what she did to Victor.”
“Oh. But Victor’s the worst.”
Malachi had to hide a smile. “Most of his pack probably doesn’t see it that way. Not everyone realizes that someone’s a bad person when they’re right up close to them.” Or they realized it too late. Or they knew it, but they couldn’t make themselves get away, or their loyalty outweighed their suffering.
“God. People suck.”
Hayley was phrasing it a bit more bluntly than Malachi would have, but he’d been on his way to the same sentiment. “Sometimes they do, yeah.”
Hayley slumped back into the couch. “We should do something nice for her. Elizabeth. She did this super-good thing for us, and now everything’s all horrible for her. She’s sick and her boyfriend’s mean and she had to leave her home and everything.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Malachi said. “How about we cook her a really good dinner?”
Hayley brightened. “Yeah!” She bounced up, turning towards the kitchen. “I’m doing most of it, though. You should see my skills now. They’re awesome.”
After Amanda left, Malachi had had to learn how to actually cook for himself and then-eight-year-old Hayley. He’d gotten to the point where he was reasonably proud of a skill that he’d never been much good at, but since Hayley had gotten older, she’d been determined to beat him out and become a gourmet. She watched Youtube videos of chefs and tried all sorts of dishes when he was working in the evening.
The upshot of it was that Malachi had a smaller repertoire, but his efforts in the kitchen were much less likely to end in disaster than Hayley’s were.
“All right,” he said. “You can take point, but we’re going to make something that we’ve successfully made before. No souffles or handmade pasta or anything crazy.”
“We can’t make something boring, though,” Hayley said. “Not for a special dinner, come on.”
“Okay,” Malachi negotiated, “how about I do the main dish and you can do the side. Something you’ve made before, but whatever you want. Deal?” That way, they could guarantee that there’d be something edible once they were done.
Hayley held her hand out. “Deal.”
They shook, and turned to head into the kitchen together. “Maybe we could see about getting her some basic toiletries and things, too,” Malachi said thoughtfully. “She really has nothing.”
“Ooh, I bet I know how to make that happen,” Hayley said, digging for her phone.
Malachi let out his breath, smiling a little. Some things were much better than flying, when it came to making himself feel better.
Chapter 9: Elizabeth
Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly. Her whole body felt heavy, like it was trying to become one with the soft bed beneath her.
Where was she? This wasn’t her room. The orange sunset filtering softly in through the white curtains at the window was totally unfamiliar. Her apartment had a beautiful view of the brick wall of the building next door, and never let in much light at all.
All at once, her memory came back. She would’ve sat bolt upright in bed if she could’ve managed it, but her body protested immediately, yearning back towards the pillows below, and she just jerked up a little, and sank right back into bed.
Sheriff Malachi Cohen’s home. That was where she was. The DA—Lila’s house—Malachi—Nevin’s phone call—Malachi again—it all came flooding back, along with a useless surge of adrenaline.
Well, at least she was awake now. And she really, really had to pee.
She levered herself out of bed. Her body felt heavy, heavier than she could ever remember it feeling, even though she hadn’t actually gained any weight from this pregnancy yet. She had much more to come in that arena, she was sure.
She found the bathroom, took care of her business, and washed her face, which she should’ve done before she fell asleep. Even after she’d washed the dried tears off her cheeks, she looked awful, exhausted and ragged and red-eyed, deep circles under her eyes, lines carved into her face from the stress of the last few months. She’d aged what
looked like years.
Well, having a baby and spending eighteen years solely responsible for the kid’s welfare wasn’t going to bring back any kind of a youthful glow to her appearance, so she supposed she’d better get used to it.
The dire exertion of walking a few yards and spending ten minutes washing up made itself known. Already tired again, she dragged herself back to the guest room. Maybe she could just fall asleep again. And stay asleep until all of this was over, Victor was in prison for life, and—
And what? She still didn’t know what she wanted.
Bed for now, at least. Elizabeth plopped back down into the nest of pillows and pulled the covers up, luxuriating for a moment in how soft and warm it all was. Here was something nice, at least. Her life had been pretty lacking in nice things, recently.
She was still trying to decide if she really wanted to just go right back to sleep when there was a knock at the door. “Elizabeth? Are you awake?”
Malachi. The sound of his voice brought a burst of warmth to her chest, which she tried to ignore—it wasn’t smart to get too attached to someone who was just your temporary host. “Yes, come on in,” she called back, wondering what he wanted.
He just poked his head in. “Hayley and I made some dinner, and we thought we could bring it up to you, if you’re hungry at all.”
Elizabeth was about to automatically say, No, thank you, I’m not hungry, because these days she was never hungry. It was a huge pain to have to remember to eat, and make herself eat even though food seemed totally disgusting most of the time, knowing that if she didn’t, she was hurting the baby by not giving it nourishment.
But then she realized—she was hungry.
Just a little bit. But it was there, a little emptiness in her tummy and the sense that it might be nice to have some food to fill it up.
“Thanks,” she said slowly. “Yes, I think I would like some dinner. You don’t have to bring it up to me, though; I can come downstairs—”
“No, no, it’s not a problem at all. Reid said you were supposed to rest, right? So you should rest. We’ve got it covered.”
He disappeared. Uneasily, Elizabeth settled back into the pillows. She wasn’t accustomed to being waited on hand and foot.
But she did have to admit: getting up and going downstairs, and sitting at a table and making conversation, all seemed like titanic undertakings. Just going to the bathroom had tired her out enough. It was probably for the best that she stayed here.
She just hoped that she didn’t get crumbs all over their nice bedspread.
“Here we are,” Malachi said, coming into the bedroom with an honest-to-God tray, like in a movie or something, with a plate of food and silverware on it. Hayley followed, carrying a glass of juice.
“Isn’t it cool?” Hayley asked, pointing at the tray. “My mom bought it when I was really sick once, so she could bring me food in bed, and ever since then, anytime someone is sick, we break it out and give them the whole princess treatment.”
Elizabeth wondered where Hayley’s mom was. She didn’t sound overly sad, talking about her, so maybe she and Malachi were just divorced.
Or she could just be on a business trip or something, Elizabeth reminded herself. There was no reason to think otherwise. Except Malachi wasn’t wearing a ring.
Not that it mattered at all.
“Incoming,” Malachi murmured, and Elizabeth hurried to arrange herself so that she was sitting up, and the blankets were flat enough that the tray could rest on its little legs and create a small table in her lap.
Hayley set the glass on the nightstand. “Juice on the tray has resulted in tragedy in the past,” she informed Elizabeth.
Elizabeth could easily see how that could happen, and was glad to be spared the worry of spilling orange juice all over the nice white bedspread.
The plate in front of her looked magnificent. Pasta with big chunks of chicken and vegetables, in a light sauce with cheese sprinkled on top, and on the side—“Latkes?” she asked.
“Sort of!” Hayley sounded delighted. “Zucchini fritters. I found a recipe online when we had one million pounds of zucchini earlier this year—”
“Our neighbor Mrs. Borden planted too much,” Malachi interjected, “and she was giving it away to everyone she saw.”
Hayley nodded vigorously. “You had to be stealthy like a ninja if you wanted to avoid six pounds of zucchini descending on you from nowhere. And she lives right next door, so it kept just, like, appearing on our doorstep. So we had zucchini bread and zucchini-ribbon pasta, which is supposed to be just like spaghetti but is not at all just like spaghetti, and zucchini salad and zucchini ratatouille and it was like a zucchini plague. It was nuts.”
Elizabeth found herself starting to giggle.
Hayley grinned, her eyes sparkling. “And Dad just gave up, he was like ready to throw it away or just slice it up and have it as a boring side dish for the next eleven months until it all started again. But I did not give up. I was going to find a way to make zucchini taste good enough to want to have it. And I triumphed!” She held up her hands in a victory-arms gesture. “Zucchini fritters! You grate them and mix them with eggs and flour and stuff and fry them in butter! They’re really good!”
“Well, let me try one, then,” Elizabeth said, reaching for her fork.
She’d planned on telling Hayley it was delicious no matter what it tasted like, of course, but when she bit into it, she was surprised at how tasty it really was. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, rich and buttery but with a bright vegetable freshness. “Wow,” she said.
“Told you,” Hayley said, with a hint of smugness.
“I hope you like pasta,” Malachi said, “but if not, I think Hayley would be happy to make you ten more fritters.”
Hayley punched her dad in the arm. Elizabeth hastened to say, “Pasta is great. This is all great. Thanks so much.”
“We can get out of your way while you eat,” Malachi said.
“Or, we can stay and keep you company!” Hayley grinned. “Besides, we have presents.”
Elizabeth blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Eat,” Malachi said. “That’s the most important thing right now. You need to keep your strength up. Hayley, we can come back later.”
Elizabeth obediently took a bite of the pasta. It was also delicious—succulent chicken and bright vegetables in a lemon-garlic sauce. God, she really was hungry. How long had it been since food had tasted this good?
“See, she’s eating,” Hayley said. “Let’s get her presents.”
Elizabeth looked up again, but Hayley was disappearing out the door. “I’m sorry, presents?” she said to Malachi. “Last I checked, it wasn’t my birthday or anything.”
“Just a few things,” Malachi assured her.
“Wait, she’s serious?” Elizabeth moved to—she didn’t know what. Get up and run away? From presents? That was ridiculous.
And besides, she couldn’t get up, she had a tray of food in her lap.
So she settled back down and took another bite of zucchini fritter. It was just as good the second time.
Hayley darted back into the room with a—a literal gift basket.
Like, a big basket with cellophane and a bow and tissue paper. Elizabeth stared.
Hayley looked at her, looked at the basket, and rolled her eyes. “Oh, the presentation? That was all Lachlan. He’s like a domestic goddess or something. But everyone put something into the basket—us, too. Look inside?”
“Let her eat, Hayley,” Malachi admonished.
But now Elizabeth was curious. She set her fork down and reached for it, and Hayley handed it over with a delighted grin.
Elizabeth slowly untied the bow and parted the cellophane to reveal...
Soap. Shampoo. Hair ties. Socks. A razor, deodorant, a little makeup kit, a loofah, toothpaste, floss. All the stuff that she hadn’t had time to pack in an overnight bag.
And then even a few more extra things. Nice lavender-scented l
otion. A package of bath bombs. A little box of chocolates. A couple of fluffy-looking romance novels with barechested men on the covers.
Elizabeth stared. And blinked. And blinked harder. She was not going to cry again. “Who—who bought all of this?”
“Everyone!” Hayley said cheerfully. “Lila and Flynn and Lachlan and Cam and Ronan and Katie and me and Dad, and Rita and Luis and Santos, and Reid and his parents, and—”
The flood of names was overwhelming. “I don’t know any of those people!” Elizabeth interrupted, hearing her voice rise a little hysterically but unable to stop it. “Why would they—how did they even know—”
A big hand landed softly on her shoulder. “Hey,” Malachi said, his voice low and soothing. “Hey, it’s not a huge thing. Everyone knows that you helped put Victor away, and when they heard that you came here with nothing, they wanted to—help out a little, that’s all.”
“But—but—”
Elizabeth didn’t even know where the big wave of no! was coming from. Somewhere deep inside her, it felt like.
But it didn’t make sense. She did need all of this. And she supposed it was logical that the people of the town might want to help out a little—not even just because they were nice people, but in exchange for the service she had sort of done them, even if she hadn’t been thinking about them, really.
Maybe that was the problem. “I don’t deserve the town’s thanks for anything,” she said quietly. “Everything I did against Victor—it was selfish. It was because I didn’t want to raise my baby in that pack. It wasn’t a big altruistic thing for the good of the people here.”
Hayley had leaned back a little at Elizabeth’s outburst, but now she sat forward. “That’s not how everyone feels, though, you know?” she said. “And besides, it’s not like—I don’t know, if you were selfish, you would’ve said something like, I want my baby to grow up and take over the pack and rule with an iron fist. Right?”
Elizabeth laughed, a little helplessly. “You see things slightly differently from how I do, I think.”
Hayley grinned. “Part of my charm.”