“Mr. Murray’s wife is my sister,” Mason said, returning the conversation to him. “And as Mr. Sparrow mentioned, we have every reason to believe my wife is the target.”
Walters shook his head. “This has been fascinating. Utterly fascinating.” He offered me his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Reid. Not all of our recruits come to us” —he looked at Mason— “well, as the sergeant here did. As I said, the Sovereign Order far predates the drug. If you are ever wanting more...”
“Sir, right now, I want answers to who harmed my wife.”
“Your father was a family man too.” After we shook, he turned to Sparrow and Mason. “I cannot help you. Whatever is being done to you or your wives is not from the Order. I’m certain you have a long list of enemies.” He spoke to Mason. “I suggest you rerun that DNA. Erroneous results are commonplace. Obviously, a dead man doesn’t leave DNA.
“Goodbye, gentlemen. Don’t contact—”
“The women were returned after they had received a similar drug to the one you gave me,” Mason said, interrupting. “It’s improved. Whatever they were given only blocked out a few weeks, yet they are both missing the same amount of time, and my wife has identified key components to her previous research in their toxicology screen.”
Mr. Walters stopped. “That is interesting. I would like to get my hands on that report. I’m sure our scientists would be interested.”
Sparrow stepped forward. “Is there any possibility you have another rogue soldier?”
“No one goes against the Order.”
Someone had. She’d died in Montana in the fire at Mason’s ranch.
“Is it a possibility?” Sparrow repeated.
Walter’s gaze went to Mason. “No.”
Walters started to walk away. As he did, I felt my chance at avenging Lorna slip away. “Mr. Walters.”
He turned. “Mr. Murray.”
“You said you wanted the toxicology report?”
“Yes.”
“Sir, if you could provide me with the means to reach you, I will send you what we have regarding the toxicology. I’d also like to send the DNA and name and rank of the deceased soldier.”
“There can be no record of communication,” he said.
“That won’t be a problem.”
He took a deep breath. “No offense intended, but I don’t trust anyone outside the Order. The risk is too great.”
“I used to contact you,” Mason said.
Walters turned his stare to Mason. “Activate the old address. It’s the only way I’ll agree.”
“Yes, sir. I will,” he said.
Lorna
I’d basked in my knowledge that I wasn’t raped as I tried to get on with my life. Of course, it wasn’t exactly business as usual. We were on lockdown. It made it easier that all of the women were in similar straits, including Ruby.
Everyone did their best to go on with life. Ruby continued her senior year online. Laurel had a new space on 2 that allowed her more room to do what she’d done at the institute. It wasn’t as if she could see clients of the institute or check on participants in her study, yet she could access the team she’d been able to assemble and work virtually with them.
Much to Sparrow’s chagrin, Araneae maintained her presence—albeit virtual—at both the Sparrow Institute and Sinful Threads. Her friend and co-founder of the fashion design company, Louisa, was more than willing to carry more than her weight. After all, she had been where Araneae was twice. Her little girl, Kennedy, was already four years old and her son, Dustin, had recently celebrated his first birthday. It was right before our trip to Montana. Sparrow, Araneae, and about fifty Sparrows went to Boulder for a first birthday party.
While I couldn’t imagine Sterling Sparrow enthralled with balloons and a smash cake, Araneae later said he did well. I suppose that could mean anything from he didn’t grunt or he actually enjoyed himself.
Madeline continued to immerse herself in the work around the kitchen. In sharing bits and pieces of her life story, she told me that she had always wanted to learn to cook but had never had the opportunity. I’d found her not only to be a fast learner, but she also had a penchant for Russian recipes, dishes and spice combinations I’d never tried and surprisingly liked. Ruby also liked to help her mom create foods that had been a part of their lives for so long.
That left me to do what I did, maintain the households. While many may think cleaning, laundry, and dishes were boring, I found comfort in the commonplace activities. There was satisfaction in a job completed.
The other ongoing activity left mostly to us women was preparing for our expansion. While Madeline and Araneae were the ones with child, they welcomed Laurel’s and my input on all things needed for babies. Laurel at least had a niece to reference. I was woefully detached from all the new and modern baby-care items.
I picked up one of their books and read about care. Simple things like placing a baby in a crib had new rules. They never were to be put on their stomach. And babies no longer wore coats in car seats.
“Are you sure?” I asked Araneae as I considered a newborn in Chicago’s winter—not that Sparrow would ever allow it outside the tower until maybe twenty years of age.
“Yes, look.” She pulled up a page of baby items on her tablet. “It’s because they’re too bulky in the car seat.”
“Oh,” I said, looking at the page. “They have car-seat covers.” We both grinned. “With a little place to see their face.”
Araneae reached for my hand. “I’m having a few of what Laurel calls flashes.”
I nodded, knowing what she was talking about.
“It’s like one of those pictures where they use a million other pictures to make one big one. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah.”
Her lips came together and then slid between her teeth as her nostrils flared. “I’m sorry, fucking hormones.”
A grin came to my lips. “Ruby would charge you a dollar.”
She snickered, bringing her fingers to her lips. “Oh, damn.”
“Go on,” I encouraged. “I don’t remember exactly where we were, and I only have glimpses of what it looked like. But there’s one scene. It was dark. I was all by myself and then you were there. I feel bad when I think about it. I mean, it’s only a flash of time, but I shouldn’t have wanted you there.”
Her hormones were beginning to affect me as I swallowed tears.
“I recall feeling alone and then not,” Araneae said. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you.”
“How do you know you didn’t?”
“Because I wasn’t hurt like you were. I’m so relieved by the results of the rape kit.”
“Did you have one done?” I asked.
She nodded. “I did. I asked for it. I wanted not only to know if it happened, but to be sure there wasn’t anything, diseases...”
“And I assume you were clear?”
“I was.”
“What matters is that your little one is good,” I said as I looked down at her growing midsection.
“Do you want to feel a kick?”
“Can you feel it?” I asked.
“Give me your hand.” She placed my hand over her blouse. “Don’t be afraid to push.”
It was amazing to me how solid her growing midsection felt. As I pressed, there was a flutter beneath my palm. “Oh my goodness.”
Araneae smiled. “It has been getting stronger and stronger each day.” She giggled. “Sterling felt it for the first time.”
“I bet he was thrilled.”
Her giggle became a full-out laugh. “Without too much detail, I would say he was a bit shocked.”
“It happened when the two of you...?”
“Yes. He has started calling the baby ‘little cock-blocker.’”
My head shook. “You know it is all about him.”
“He better enjoy it because I believe things will change.”
The only baby experience I had was with Missy
and being only a year older, it wasn’t that I was experienced. I also didn’t know any of the newfangled swings or bassinets or remember any of that from my childhood.
Thinking of Missy took my thoughts back to my dream from almost a week ago. It made no sense that my thoughts would go that way, but they did.
I hadn’t been raped. Was it too much to ask for a little bit of hope that my sister was alive?
One night after dinner in the penthouse, nearly two weeks after I was found, there was a knock on our apartment door. With Reid on 2, I answered it to find my brother.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, his lips thinning as he tilted his head. “Can I come in?”
As sure as Madeline had said a while ago at breakfast, those were Mason’s tells. While I let him in, I was pretty sure this visit wasn’t to borrow sugar. “Sure.” I opened the door wider and stepped back. “Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head. “Is Reid here yet?”
“No, he’s downstairs, I figured you would be too.”
“I was. I told him I’d come up here. He should be here soon,” Mason said as he walked around our living room. His green gaze went to a piece of artwork Reid had bought me early in our marriage. It was an artist whose work had been one of our first-ever conversations. Nevertheless, my brother was doing a terrible job of acting casual. If anything, he was doing a good job of acting nervous.
“Mace, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Okay, we can rule out life or death,” I said in a wasted attempt at humor.
When he turned my way, I realized my sarcasm had landed like a lead balloon.
I walked to the sofa and sat. “Okay, spill.”
“Lorna, I should have told you this earlier. I meant to, but there are other things happening. And I kept telling Reid it was you who wasn’t ready. He said you were. I think it was me. But, fuck, we need to come clean.”
My mind scrambled as there was another knock at our door. My gaze went to the door and back to Mason. “Reid wouldn’t knock.”
“It’s probably Laurel.” He tilted his head the direction of the door. “Do you mind?”
“Since I seem to be the only one left out in the cold, help yourself.”
Mason went to the door and greeted his wife with a kiss before she entered and assessed the room. “Waiting on Reid?” she asked.
“You are really making me uncomfortable.” As I spoke, the door opened again and Reid stepped inside. His handsome face showed the same unspoken stress I was feeling.
“It’s about time,” Mason said.
“I didn’t know you meant now.”
“I said now.”
Reid came to my side and sat. “I wanted to tell you this before. At first, I agreed to wait because I wasn’t sure, but you’re doing so well, and then because you were doing well, I was unsure if this would set you back.” He barely took a breath through the entire long sentence.
“Lorna,” Mason began, “it’s not Reid’s fault. It’s mine. I take full blame, and if I were honest right now with everyone in this room, I could sleep soundly for the rest of my life not telling you what I’m about to say. Sometimes, omission is a gift.”
My hands rubbed up and down my sleeves as his words sent a strange chill over my skin. “What have you omitted?”
Laurel took a seat in a chair nearby as Mason began to share what he wasn’t certain I could hear. He was wrong. I could hear it. I just wasn’t certain that I wasn’t dreaming.
I listened in a state hovering close to disbelief.
Lorna
As my brother spoke, Reid reached for my hand and kept it wrapped safely in the cocoon of his larger one.
Once Mason finished his unbelievable tale, I asked, “What the hell? Can you repeat that?”
Though he was finished talking, his feet were still moving, back and forth on the edge of the area rug defining our living room. When he stopped, he turned my way. “Yeah, I didn’t know how to handle it either.”
“I don’t understand how she was with me. Did the people who took Araneae and me take her? Why?” While those questions should be front and center, I should be concerned about our mother and the confirmation of her demise, including her body in a makeshift morgue on 1, but that wasn’t where my mind went. Releasing my husband’s hand, I stood “Oh my God. Missy could be alive.”
The three of them looked around as if I was speaking of unicorns and pots of gold at the end of rainbows.
“I’m not crazy. My dream could have been real.” It was as if they’d all lost the ability to speak. My gaze went from my husband to my brother. “You both knew about this.” I turned to Laurel. “And you?”
“It’s not her fault,” Reid said. “Mason and I agreed—”
“Of course you did.” I let out an exaggerated breath as my palms slapped my thighs. “You two decided what I could and couldn’t know.”
“Lorna,” Reid said with the it was all for your own good tone. “You were dealing with so much.”
“I’m not made of glass.” My gaze went to Laurel. “And you. You let me talk to you about my dream. You heard Mace get upset. You didn’t think I should know why?”
She nodded. “I did. I encouraged Mason to tell you.”
“Almost two weeks later?”
Mason’s lips came together. “If you’re worried about Nancy, she’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh.” I stepped away from my husband’s attempted grasp. “I don’t care about her.”
“What?” Reid asked.
Laurel stood. “Lorna, this information is another shock to your mind in a rapid series of blows. It’s okay to be unsure. Don’t make rash comments or decisions without allowing this information to sink in.” She glanced toward Mason and back to me. “I know that there isn’t a lot of love lost between the two of you and your mother...”
I waved my hand toward her. “I’m not rehashing all of that.” Turning a three-sixty spin, my eyes met my sister-in-law’s. “Look at this.” I gestured between Mason and myself. “We’re here. We made it despite her poor excuse at parenting. Hell, maybe we made it because of that. I don’t know. Maybe forcing us to grow up as children made us stronger as adults, but even if that’s true, I’m not willing to give her credit for what we did. As far as I’m concerned, Nancy Pierce is the one who failed. We” —my eyes met Mace’s— “survived.”
“There is nothing wrong with mourning her,” Laurel said.
Still looking at my brother, I asked, “Have you?”
His stance straightened. “Mourned? No.”
“Do you feel the need to mourn the woman who birthed you—us?”
“Fuck no.”
Turning back to Laurel, I asked, “He doesn’t, why should I?”
“There’s no should or shouldn’t. However, just because he doesn’t shouldn’t stop you.”
Scenes I’d buried for years threatened to enter my thoughts. My hands began to tremble and my stomach twist. The apartment around me was gone. No longer in a castle in the sky, in a flash, I was in a room filled with clothes and trash. Nancy was talking to me. Her face was close and much younger than my recent recollection or dream. And then all of it was gone.”
“Lorna?”
Reid’s voice filtered into my consciousness. I blinked the unwanted image away.
Shaking my head, my mind replaced the flash with another scene from my childhood. It was the one-room studio apartment we moved to, about six months after we went to live with our mother. While it was dingy with few pieces of furniture—a table with only three chairs and an old discarded television—it wasn’t filthy in the way of that first flash. In this one room, there was only one real bed; a twin-sized one that had a frame where Nancy slept and then, for the three of us, there was a large mattress on the floor.
That memory should be depressing, yet it wasn’t. It was the first space we truly had after our grandmother
passed away. It was also the last place we shared with Missy.
“Lorna, maybe you should sit down.”
“No, don’t you all understand?” Excitement laced my words, joy replacing whatever had momentarily sent ice through my circulation. I concentrated on the positive. “If she was found with me, it means that my dream wasn’t a dream.”
“Lorna,” Laurel began, “we’ve already discussed the unlikelihood of this possibility.”
“We? You mean you, Mason, and Reid?”
Sheepishly, she nodded. “I have concerns about what you think you remember. It’s inconsistent with your loss of memories. You don’t recall going to Montana or being kidnapped, yet you recall a conversation you had while you were drugged, dehydrated, injured, and nearly septic from ant bites.”
“What if Missy is alive? What if what I recalled really did happen?”
“What if it didn’t?” Mason asked, stepping closer. “Then after all this time, you’re letting that bitch down on 1 disappoint you again.”
“Is that your problem, Mason? You’re more concerned about disappointment than our sister?”
“Lorna,” Reid said. “We’re still working on who took you. This isn’t a priority.”
“My sister isn’t a priority?” I stared in disbelief. “And I suppose the two of you were the ones who determined this hierarchy of concerns?” Taking in both of the men’s expression, I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t only you two. Sparrow and Patrick had a say.”
Mason’s lips came together as Reid reached out to me and spoke, “I’m not saying we won’t investigate what you think she may have said to you. I’m just saying it won’t be until after we have other answers.”
“What if you never get other answers?”
“We will,” Mason said matter-of-factly. “We’ve been working with someone. If it pans out...”
“Laurel,” I said, directing my words to her. “You have a sister. What if Allison had gone missing years ago and you never knew what happened? What if it was Haley?” Laurel visibly bristled at the mention of her eight-year-old niece. “Missy was only a year older than Haley when she disappeared.”
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