Raven
“Not another package,” I groan as the doorbell dings. “I don’t know who’s sending these, but they contain graphic images and information. I, for one, am tired of having it in black and white, and shoved in my face, of my husband’s wrongdoings. I knew he wasn’t a saint, but I had no idea he was this bad.” I probably shouldn’t talk to myself, but right now, it’s the only thing keeping me sane.
Hesitantly, I open the envelope and a letter slips out. I watch as it floats out of the package and lands on the floor. It was close to dramatic, something seen on a television program. The climactic moment as all the pieces come together. Sighing at my overly dramatic imagination, I bend down and grab the piece of folded paper off the floor. Sitting the heavy envelope on my coffee table, I sit down on the couch and slowly open the note.
Dearest Raven,
I’m sorry that I’ve had to share information with you via packages, but I’ve been busy keeping you and Damien safe. You two are innocent in all of the questionable activities of your late spouse. I will explain this part to you in person. I realize you don’t know me from Adam, but I’m hoping you’ll grant me the time to explain everything to you in full detail. It’s very important that any discussions we have are in a secure location. Somewhere safe, where prying eyes and ears have no chance of discovering, or overhearing, our connection and conversation. This is something that needs to take place sooner rather than later. In the package is an address and map for you to meet me at. I’ll be there at exactly nine a.m. tomorrow morning. This should give you time to take care of your boy and get him off to school. I mean you no harm, I only wish to protect the innocent. Which is what I’ve been doing for you two.
Sincerely,
Jonas
What the everloving fuck! I can’t imagine that meeting this man alone is a good idea, but what choice am I left with? I need to know what I’m facing. Going upstairs, I go into Sinclair’s office and key in the code to his safe. He had no clue I knew this tidbit of information, but I always feared I’d need what’s inside one day. And that day seems to have reared its ugly head.
Looking at all the papers, stacks of money, and weaponry should have been my first clue that he wasn’t on the upside of the law, but I tried to stay as far from his dealings as possible. I didn’t and don’t trust him, but I know that I may need something to protect myself from this unknown male. I don’t trust anyone, especially that of the male origin, but my gut is screaming at me that I need to go to this meeting with this Jonas character.
Taking out the small handgun, I load it and take it downstairs to place in my purse. A woman can never be too cautious is my motto. I’m responsible for Damien and there’s no way on earth I won’t protect myself at all costs since I’m all he’s got.
I think about my little man and smile. He was born early and according to the doctors, he’ll eventually catch up to his peers. Right now, he’s barely three feet tall, with a mop of curly blond hair and the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s got a smattering of freckles across his nose which he hates, but I foresee a woman down the line falling in love with them. I hate how Sinclair treated him, opting to ignore him most of the time. Other times, he would yell and scream at him, which scared my boy to the point he pretty much stopped talking. ‘Children should be seen and not heard’ was the philosophy that my piece of shit husband lived by, something I’m trying to change. I always have music playing and have found several age-appropriate shows for Damien.
He seems to be coming out of his shell a little bit, but I worry that I’m not doing enough to help him. The last conference at school was concerning and they started talking about putting him in special education. I know my son is bright, he just had a rough start. All of which I can thank his father for, the moron. He was never meant to be a father, why he decided to keep us around and not let us leave, is beyond me. He didn’t really care for either one of us, and he showed it every time he walked through the front door.
Once I have my gun secured in my purse, I head over to the kitchen to take stock of what we have and what we’re in need of. Getting my pad and pen out of my junk drawer, I begin making a list. “I should do online shopping, this list of things we need is outrageous!” I huff in outrage of how empty I’ve allowed my pantry to become. “Take-out isn’t an option anymore.” I’ve slacked with leaving the house. I try not to show myself around town as much as possible. No, I’m not a recluse, but I’ve always feared pissing Sinclair off, and becoming his punching bag. I don’t like to be in his line of fire.
He had someone watching my every move, of that I’m certain of. He should’ve never known when I grabbed that extra paperback romance novel or got Damien his favorite afternoon snacks. The ones that he deemed unworthy, and unnecessary. If I wasn’t seeing the other side of his fist, I was always at the other end of his verbal, and emotional abuse. The man was unhappy in life, and always made sure those around him were just as miserable as his pathetic excuse of existence was.
Sighing in exasperation, I finish up my list and get ready to head out the door to pick Damien up from school.
TWO
JONAS
I’m playing stalker again. I can’t seem to get enough of watching her and learning who she is through her activities of the day. So fucking pretty. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail today, and she’s wearing a pair of distressed jeans, those little short boots that women seem to like, and a cream-colored off the shoulder shirt. Through the binoculars, I see that she’s headed towards her car, which she doesn’t park in the garage for some reason. I make a note to tell her that for safety reasons, she really should park inside the garage. Once she’s in the car, I see the brake lights and glancing down at my watch, I realize that she’s probably running to get her son from school.
She doesn’t notice that I’m following her, but just in case, I still maintain a safe distance, since we haven’t formally met. I don’t go through the car rider line at the school, which I might add, is a fucking nightmare. Instead, I wait until she has her son, then once she’s back on the road, I begin following her again.
When she pulls into the shopping center, I realize that she’s likely going to the grocery store based on previous times where I’ve followed her. I grin when I see her take his hand in hers once she gets him out of the car. She’s chattering away to him, and I notice he doesn’t respond much, just an occasional smile or shake of his head.
To keep from looking like a total creeper, I grab a cart and start ‘following’ them, finding items that we can use at our place, and putting them in. I wish I could get closer, but I’m afraid it’ll scare her. I smirk when I toss in several boxes of cereal that Piper likes, knowing it’ll tick Atticus off.
An hour later, I find myself standing one person behind her in the checkout lane. When she grabs her belongings, I suddenly have heart palpitations at the thought of how long it will take for me to get done. This guy in front of me is a chatterbox and I want to shove my size twelve boot up his ass. When he finally finishes and hands the cashier money, I begin to invade his personal space. This should get him moving along. He looks over at me, and before he has a chance to scowl at me, I send him my most lethal ‘don’t fuck with me’ look that has him scurrying out of the line.
“Good afternoon, sir.” The cashier smiles brightly at me. I tilt my mouth up on one side, I’m friendly, but not overly so. “Did you find everything you needed today?”
“Yeah. Kind of in a hurry here if you don’t mind?” I’m not sure if I was informing her of this, or questioning her ability to get me the fuck out in a timely manner.
“Then you’re in luck, I happen to be the fastest cashier here,” she replies, continuously running my items across the scanner. “That’ll be fifty-nine dollars and thirty cents. Would you like to round up for charity?” Anything that’ll get me the fuck outta here! I hand her three twenties and tell her to keep it, then start helping the bag boy with my stuff. I can see Raven through the front wi
ndow, she’s not in her car, though.
Seeing what’s happening, I quickly grab my bags and head out the door, to hear some douchebag saying, “I know you know where he is, bitch. Tell me now!”
“Is there a problem?” I question, as I invade their conversation. I end up standing next to Raven but positioning myself between her and this asshole. Her boy is now crowding behind her, and I can see him trembling at the fucker’s tone, which pisses me off further.
“This is between me and the lady,” he grunts out. I know from our investigation into her husband that this is one of his lackeys and make a mental note that he needs to go away. On a permanent basis. He needs to take a swim with the fish at the bottom of the lake.
“I’ve told you, Shawn, that I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. I just presumed he was on a business trip.” Her voice is firm, and I’m proud of the fact that she’s standing tall and showing no fear.
“Yeah, right. You know something, bitch.” This motherfucker is fixing to lose all of his front teeth, if he continues to speak to her like he is.
“No, I don’t. Have you tried calling him?”
“He’s not picking up.” Of course, he’s not. Satan doesn’t allow cellphones in hell.
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. Have you checked with Saul?” I know that Saul is the second-in-command of the asswipe’s organization, and he’s on our list of fuckers to take care of as well.
“Saul can’t reach him either.” He glares at her, then extends it to me, but I give him my own eat shit look right back. “Fine, but if you hear from him, you tell him he needs to call us.”
“I will.” She watches him stomp off before she turns and crouches down. “Sorry, sweetie, are you okay?” She barely glances in my direction, her main concern is her kid. We will need to work on her survival skills at a later date.
“Who was that man, Mommy?”
“Someone who works with your father.”
“He scared me.” Now, I want to go after the son-of-a-bitch, and make him eat asphalt for scaring Damien the way he did.
“I know and I’m sorry. Look, Damien, over there!” she says, pointing off to the side where someone is standing with a box of puppies. “Let’s go look.”
I follow her and Damien as they head over towards the box of doom. Dogs are like newborn babies, all they do is eat, sleep, and shit. Soon, his pinched look is replaced with childish giggles as the puppies clamor for his attention, yipping and licking. “Can we get one?” he asks, looking up at her.
She hesitates for a minute before replying, “Sure, why not.” As if she has finally noticed me, she says, “Uh, not sure why you stepped in, but it’s appreciated. Mr.?”
Well, I didn’t think this one through thoroughly before I charged in. “Jonas, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning,” I lean down and whisper into her ear. She gasps and covers her mouth. “I told you, I’m here to protect you… always.” Turning, I walk around the side of the building. It’s nowhere near where I am parked, but I don’t want her to know my vehicle. Running someone’s license plate is easy, and I’m not ready to lose the upper hand right now.
Raven
When he walks away, I’m stunned speechless. “Mommy?” My little guy tugs on my arm to get my attention.
“Yes?” I respond, eyes still glued to the side of the building where Jonas disappeared.
“I want this one, okay?” he asks, holding a buff-colored puppy. I nod, thinking of all the things I now have to do, like find a vet and get supplies.
“What do you think you’ll name him?” Normal, Raven, keep shit normal for him.
“Scooby,” he states. I grin because that’s his favorite show. I hope in his young mind he realizes the dog won’t be talking to him and asking for scooby snacks to perform. I hold back the snicker that wants to leave my mouth.
“Well, let’s get our groceries, and Scooby, in the car. We need to find a vet and also get stuff for him, you know.”
“Like what?” His innocent question, lets me know that he’s not as grown up as he sometimes acts.
“A kennel, bowls, some toys, food, snacks,” I rattle off. He nods, carrying his puppy and laughing as Scooby licks his face, as we walk to the car. I get him and his puppy in and buckled up before I load the groceries in the trunk. “Okay, let Mommy google to see if there’s a vet open right now.”
He’s lost in giggles, as the puppy continuously licks his face, and I find myself praying, that what Jonas sent me saying that Sinclair will never come back, is the truth. A few minutes of searching, and I’m headed to the vet’s office. He looks healthy, but I know he’ll need shots and shit.
As soon as the vet has given Scooby, a golden lab, a clean bill of health, his puppy shots, and dewormer, we head to the front counter to schedule his appointment to get neutered and pay for today.
“We have a store in that room right there if you want to get his food from us. We also carry a select amount of supplies, including toys, beds, leashes, and collars. If we don’t have what you’re looking for, we have a book you can order from,” he informs me.
“Thank you, Dr. Ivey.” We ring up the visit and I nearly swallow my tongue at the astronomical price. Seems that the puppy is going to cost me more than I figured, but the look on Damien’s face makes it worth every penny I’ll spend. “C’mon, Damien, let’s get Scooby his things.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m dropping more money, but the puppy has everything he’ll need to survive, including puppy pads so that I can get him housetrained. Now back in the car, Scooby snuggles and lets out a huge sigh. “Look, Mommy, he’s happy he has a home.” All I can think is that I hope our home survives him, while he trains. I mentally think of all the wooden furniture he’ll want to teeth on and instantly want to take him back. Then, I look in my rearview mirror and see a smile on my son’s face, one that’s been missing for a very long time and change my mind...again.
“You’re going to help train him, right?” I know the bulk of it will be on me, but there’s no reason he can’t start learning.
“Yes, Mommy. I love him!”
“Looks like he loves you too.” I let out a laugh, when Scooby crawls up his shoulders, and lays across the back of his neck.
“Mommy! He thinks I’m his bed!”
“He sure does.” For the next ten minutes, we laugh at the puppy—now snoring, sound asleep, wrapped around Damien’s neck.
The rest of the afternoon is spent setting up Scooby’s stuff. Sitting on the back deck watching the two of them run around, little woofs and giggles piercing the air, I let out a deep breath. I don’t know what’s coming, but somehow, as long as Damien is okay, it’ll be alright.
THREE
JONAS
As I’m sitting at the island, drinking my coffee, enjoying the solitude, Atticus comes into the kitchen. When he goes to the cabinet, I mentally brace. “What the fuck is this?” he growls out, tossing a box of Lucky Charms at me, “and why the fuck do we have four boxes?”
“It’s Piper’s favorite,” I reply, taking another sip.
“Why are you buying my woman her favorite cereal?”
“To keep her happy, God knows, being with you has to pull her down at times.” Yeah, I’m a smartass, sue me!
“What the fuck ever! Get your own woman, fucker!” He seriously can’t believe I’m into Piper in any other way than that of a sister, does he? Maybe he’s losing his shit in his old age.
“Working on it,” I mumble.
“What’s that?” he asks, pouring himself a coffee.
“Nothing.” First Silas, now Atticus. I need my brothers to get off my ass, and concentrating on their own women, and love lives.
“What are your plans today?” he asks, sitting at the table.
“Just some running around is all.”
“That’s what you did yesterday.” Since when are my brothers my motherfucking keepers? I don’t need to explain shit to them, but yet, they insert themselves as much as they possibly can.
“Keeping tabs on me now?” What I really wanna do is throw him a Midol for acting like a woman.
“Hardly. It’s just that you’re usually tied to your computers so you leaving the house two days in a row is cause for speculation. Actually, you’ve been gone a lot lately. What gives?” What is this, twenty motherfucking questions?
“Since when did you grow a pussy?” This should really get a rise out of him.
“I ain’t no pussy, asshole. Just curious.” The dirty look he sends my way would put a lesser man on his knees, but I grew up with the insufferable asshole.
“Curiosity killed the pussy,” I state.
“The cat, asshole. It killed the cat.” Same goddamn thing.
“Same difference as far as I can tell. And, for the record, it’s none of your fucking business what I’m up to.” As the words leave my mouth, I realize I just opened up a can of worms.
“It’s gotta be a woman,” Silas interjects, walking into the kitchen. Jesus Christ, first one, now the other? Nuh-uh, they’re not gonna wear me down.
“How do you figure?” Atticus asks.
“Because not only is he gone more than he’s here lately, but he appears to have groomed himself as well.” What? So a guy can’t trim his beard and shit? I’m not even going to recognize that I also cleaned up my manspace. I’d pull my piece and shoot the two of them, but they’re my brothers and I might need them at some point.
Atticus looks me over and grins. “Yep, it’s a woman.”
“You two are nosy fuckers,” I reply. “What difference is it to you if I trimmed my beard?” I need a refill of coffee, plus a splash of whiskey to deal with these shitheads.
“Fucker, it was as long as those dudes in that whacked show Piper likes to watch,” Atticus states. Exaggeration should be his middle name.
“No it wasn’t,” I point out.
Seeking Our Forever: Nelson Brothers' Page 2