Craving Cecilia

by Jacquelyn, Nicole

  “Cec?” He must have seen something in my expression, because he sounded both worried and guarded.

  “I can’t believe Rose is missing,” I said, bringing the conversation around to what was really important. “Have they heard anything else?”

  “No,” Mark said with a sigh. “They don’t know shit. Literally nothing except that she disappeared from work and she was with Mack.”

  “I thought they’d broken up,” I mused.

  “Guess not,” Mark said with a shrug. “That shit’s never black and white.”

  “Sometimes it is,” I murmured, not meeting his eyes.

  He sighed and sat up. “Yeah, sometimes it is. You want me to send your mom in to help you pack up?”

  I looked over to the bags neatly lined up against the wall. We hadn’t unpacked anything, I’d just been grabbing supplies as I needed them. Surprise, surprise, I hadn’t touched half of the crap I’d bought during my manic spending spree.

  “Sure,” I said as he reached the door. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge my answer.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” I whispered to Olive, running my fingertips over her scalp. “But sometimes you have to face reality, you know? He’s handsome and he smells good, but don’t get used to him, okay? He won’t be around much longer.” I ran my finger over the tiny whorl of her ear. “He’s not for us.”

  Hours later, after my mom had carried all but one bag down to Mark’s truck, we’d eaten dinner, and I’d nursed Olive to sleep—I ignored the warning I’d given the baby as Mark slid into bed behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  He may not be for us, but I couldn’t find the willpower to keep my distance until he disappeared from our lives.

  “How you feelin’?” he asked, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “Any better?”

  “A little,” I replied in a whisper. “I think that medicine your friend got is working.”

  “You say that like you’re surprised,” he said with a small chuckle. “It’s antibiotics, Cec, just like you’d get from your doctor.”

  “Bought in some back alley,” I muttered.

  “Since when are you too snobby for illegal meds?” he asked, a smile in his voice. “Pretty sure my pop supplied you with quite a few of them when we were kids.”

  “That was different,” I argued. “Number one, I knew Doc. Number two, I was a kid and didn’t know any better. Number three, I pay through the nose for insurance so I don’t have to buy black market antibiotics.”

  “Well, we just saved you a co-pay and the cost of prescription meds.”

  I didn’t reply, because he kind of had a point. Instead, I finally said out loud what had been playing on a loop in my head for hours.

  “I’m scared for Rose,” I confessed, closing my eyes. “I know they’re doing everything they can to find her, and I’m sure she’s fine, but I’m terrified.”

  “I know you are,” he replied, kissing my head.

  “She doesn’t even like me,” I said quietly enough that I could pretend he might not hear me. “She wouldn’t give me a second thought if the roles were reversed.”

  “You don’t know that,” he argued.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Mark was quiet for a while as he let that sink in.

  “Does she not remember what you did for her?” he finally asked, his entire body throbbing with tension.

  “I’m sure she does,” I replied.

  “Then what the fuck?” He scoffed. “Jesus, if it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said quickly. “Don’t.”

  “You know it’s true.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, maybe you should,” he said angrily. “Because I’m tired of this shit.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” I argued.

  “Jesus Christ, Cecilia,” he said with a long sigh. “Why the fuck don’t you stand up for yourself?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” I replied. “They’re always going to think whatever they want about me. It hasn’t changed in fifteen years, and it’s not going to change now.”

  He growled against my neck, but thankfully let it go. I didn’t want to talk about the way my family viewed me. I’d done that before, told him all of my secrets, all of my hurts, every bad thing they’d said when they thought I couldn’t hear them. He didn’t get that from me anymore.

  As I slowly drifted off into a fretful sleep, I relaxed into his body. This was the only thing he got from me—the comfort of my body against his while we slept. We both knew he didn’t even deserve that much.

  * * *

  I had no idea if it was hours or just minutes later when I woke up to Mark’s hand over my mouth and his lips at my ear.

  “They’re here,” he said softly. “Grab Olive and get up.”

  I nodded, and as soon as he let me go, I was climbing off the bed with Olive in my arms. The bedroom door was still shut, and the only light illuminating the room came from inside the closet.

  “How do you—”

  “Silent alarm,” he said, cutting me off as he ushered me toward the closet. “See it in the corner?”

  Up near the ceiling was a small, blinking white light. If I hadn’t known it was there, I would’ve never noticed it.

  “White means they haven’t made it into the house yet,” he said, grabbing my bag off the floor. “We have time.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he knelt inside the closet.

  “Another reason we got this place,” he said as he ran his fingers along the carpet. After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for and pulled, opening a trap door in the floor.

  “In,” he ordered.

  I looked around the bare closet. “No,” I spat. “I’m not hiding in a fucking closet again.”

  “Get in, Cecilia.”

  “No, I—”

  Mark looked beyond me and cursed. Following his gaze, I watched as the light that had been white only seconds before blinked red.

  “Get the fuck in,” he ordered again. “Or I swear to God, I’ll knock your ass out and put you in.”

  “What does red mean?” I asked as I stepped toward the opening.

  “Get in.”

  I scrambled to the opening and sat down, my feet hanging over the ledge. The floor beneath me was close, and I slid down until I was standing, half in and half out of the small space.

  “What does red mean?” I asked again, my heart pounding.

  “There’s a reason we put you in this room,” he said quickly, dropping my bag in the hole. “Sit down.”

  I crouched down and curled my legs until I was seated, staring at his face.

  “What does red mean?”

  “Stay in here until I come for you,” he ordered. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”

  “What does red mean?”

  His eyes met mine. “They’re in the house.”

  Then he swung the door closed and the darkness surrounding me was absolute.

  Slowly, I inhaled through my nose, ignoring the way my skin crawled. It was just darkness, the absence of light. I’d been in the dark before. It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle.

  They were in the house. They were in the house. They were in the house.

  The words played over and over in my head as Olive stirred and I began to rock back and forth.

  It was happening again. I was hiding again. Just like the first time. Just like the last time.

  I flinched as a loud thump came from somewhere in the house.

  It was happening again.

  I began to hum as more thumping and thudding and crashing reached my ears.

  It was happening again.

  Something slammed downstairs, shaking the floor I was sitting on.

  It was happening again.

  Memories I’d tried to bury flashed through my mind. Rose’s wide eyes as she stood frozen. The weight of her as I dragged her away. The fee
ling of bullets hitting the tree against my back. The feel of her fingernails digging into my arms. The burn of a bullet passing so close to my shoulder that it cut a hole in my t-shirt and left a welt on my skin.

  Gunshots.

  I couldn’t figure out if they’d been part of my memory, or if I’d actually heard them.

  It was happening again.

  I rocked faster. Hummed louder. Olive began to squirm against my hold on her.

  Footsteps overhead.

  Then, like someone flipped a switch, there was nothing.

  No fear, no memories, no fight.

  Blissful, nothing.

  Chapter 10

  Mark

  I memorized her face, the fear in her eyes and the tension in her jaw and the way her lips had flattened into a thin line as she braced herself. Then, I closed the trap door between us and took a few precious seconds to make sure that the seam in the carpet was invisible. After I knew she wouldn’t be found if the worst happened, I was on the move.

  I didn’t have time to get dressed, but I threw on a black hoodie over my bare chest, hoping for at least a little concealment considering the way my pasty-as-fuck skin practically glowed in the dark. The light in the closet went out and I let out a breath, knowing that Wilson had cut the power. I hadn’t heard anyone else moving around, which I expected, and I had to assume that everyone knew what was happening.

  I didn’t need sight to grab a pistol from my bag and quickly add a suppressor. There was no need to scare Cecilia even more with sounds of gunfire. Then, just in case, I pocketed my switchblade. I’d had the thing since I was a kid, and while it wasn’t something I’d had to use often, it worked in a pinch.

  I quietly made my way to the door and opened it wide, immediately seeing a shadow in the darkness.

  “Woody,” Casper breathed.

  “All set?” I asked. His shadow nodded.

  “Cam’s stayin’ up here in case one of ’em gets past us.”

  “Won’t happen,” I murmured. Then I shut my mouth and led him to the top of the stairs.

  If I knew my team, they were already positioned around the first floor, and I listened for any whisper of noise that would tell me where the intruder had entered the house. For Cecilia’s sake, I hoped that we could end this shit quickly and quietly.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs, a lanky shadow emerged on our left and I lifted my hand to keep Casper from hitting him.

  “Rock and roll,” Wilson breathed, his shadow becoming clearer as he stepped closer. Then he started singing, the sound barely audible.

  Ignoring him, I took the lead as we made our way toward the entryway. The front door was slightly cracked, and I let out a slow breath as I moved in that direction. The living room was the only place between me and the door, and I really fucking hoped that the motherfucker was in there. If he wasn’t, that meant he was somewhere behind us.

  Wilson went low and I went high as we cleared the room.

  “Shit,” Casper said under his breath.

  We spun back toward the front door and I silently closed it and slid the deadbolt home. Leaving it open had either been sloppy or easy access for whoever he’d left outside, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to make it easy for them to send in reinforcements.

  Just as we’d rounded the corner and hit the dining room, a flash of light came from my right and I swore as the bullet hit my shoulder and knocked me back a step.

  “Mine,” Casper said, returning fire. The thud of the body hitting the floor sounded at nearly the same time as his gunshot.

  “Kitchen,” Wilson said, taking the lead. We followed him, and found Lu on the floor and Forrest slicing the throat of another man.

  “There’s two?” Wilson asked as Forrest dropped the body.

  “Four,” Forrest replied.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, dropping to a knee to check Lu’s pulse. It was strong and I couldn’t see any blood, but she was completely out.

  “I got her,” Forrest said as I stood. “Go.”

  The only thing I had ever hated about the house was the sheer number of rooms it had. While it was good for holding larger groups of people, it was also a logistical nightmare. As we cleared room by room, I grew more and more anxious.

  They couldn’t have made it past us and up the stairs, but I fucking hated the fact that it was taking so long to find the motherfuckers.

  “—in the name of love,” Wilson whisper-sung as we moved. “Pour some sugar—gotcha.” In less than a second, he was reaching into the darkness, moving so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to respond. The third man was a little harder to take down, and as Wilson fought him, still singing, I cleared the rest of the room. Unfortunately, he was the only one in there.

  “Double back,” Casper said, tapping me on the shoulder.

  I nodded as we moved back toward the front of the house.

  The hallway leading to the command room was empty, and I knew without checking that the room itself was empty. Wilson had installed fingerprint locks that were only used in case of a breach, and he would’ve activated them before he left his lair.

  How the fuck we’d missed the last man as we’d searched the house was beyond me, but he hadn’t been in the living room when we’d been in there before. As we rounded the couch, we found him lying flat on his back, partially hidden in the shadows. I would’ve liked to question him, but when I saw his pistol pointed in our direction I didn’t hesitate. The first shot hit exactly where I’d aimed. I probably didn’t need to shoot him the second time. I did anyway.

  “All clear,” Eli said, strolling into the room.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I asked, letting Casper take the pistol from my hand so I could put pressure on my shoulder.

  “Takin’ care of business outside,” Eli replied calmly. “They won’t be reporting back, but I have a feeling they’ll be missed sooner rather than later.”

  “We gotta go,” I said, hurrying toward the stairs.

  “Need to get a look at that shoulder,” Forrest said as he led Lu out of the kitchen.

  “Alright?” I asked her.

  “Just pissed,” she replied in disgust. “Must have been in the bathroom when the silent alarm tripped. Asshole knocked me out when I went to get a glass of water.”

  “I do not appreciate visitors showing up unannounced,” Wilson said as he joined us. “It’s just poor manners.”

  I ignored him as I took the stairs two at a time, Casper on my heels.

  “That kid is fuckin’ weird,” he said. “Was he singin’—”

  “Def Leppard,” I replied. “Yep.”

  We parted ways as we reached our rooms and the lights came back on just as I reached the closet. Kneeling down, I winced as I reached for the carpet with both hands, sliding my fingers across it until I found the seam. I could feel the blood dripping down my arm inside the sweatshirt, but I ignored it and the burn of my shoulder as I found the seam and dragged my finger under it until I found the latch.

  I swung open the door and the relief at finding Cecilia and Olive safe warred with the dread that hit me as she tilted her head up at the light.

  Her face was completely emotionless. Blank.

  “Come here, baby,” I said softly, reaching for her.

  Her hand met mine instantly and she let me pull her to her feet.

  “It was dark in there,” she said distractedly, laying Olive on the floor so she could crawl out of the hole.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, watching her closely as she picked Olive back up.

  Cecilia didn’t respond. She just stood there, rocking slightly.

  “Jesus,” Farrah said as she came into the room behind me. “I’m getting too old for this shit. Are you okay?”

  “She’s fine,” I responded when Cecilia didn’t. Reaching into the space, I grabbed her bag, gritting my teeth as my shoulder protested the movement. “We’re leavin’ now.”

  “Cody told me,” Farrah replied with a nod. She looked back
and forth between me and Cecilia, her brow furrowed. “CeeCee?”

  “Yeah?” Cecilia asked easily, looking over at her mom.

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah,” Cecilia replied as I gently walked her out of the closet.

  “Chief,” Forrest interrupted, barging into the room. “I need to take a look at that shoulder. Sit.” He pointed to the bed.

  “It’s fine,” I argued, urging Cecilia forward with my hand at the small of her back. “You can look at it later.”

  “Boy,” he said, half amused and half pissed. “Sit your ass down.”

  “Take her out of here?” I said quietly to Farrah.

  “Sure thing.” She grabbed the bag from my hand and wrapped her arm around Cecilia’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s find your dad.”

  “Mark?” Cecilia asked, looking over her shoulder at me, her face still void of any emotion whatsoever.

  “I’ll be right out, Cec,” I replied, jerking my chin toward the door. “Go with your mom.”

  “She’s in shock,” Forrest said after Farrah walked Cecilia out of the room. “There a reason you didn’t want her in here for this?”

  “She’s seen enough gunshot wounds,” I said, unzipping my hoodie.

  “Damn,” he said, nodding his head to the matching scars on each shoulder, one of them just inches from the new wound. “Yours?”

  “Mine,” I confirmed, trying and failing to block the memories of that day. “And others. Too many.”

  “Well, this’ll be a nice scar to add to your collection,” Forrest said in disgust as he pulled out a roll of bandages and an assortment of other supplies. “At least it’s a through-and-through. Barely missed your clavicle. Couple inches to the left and we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation.”

  “Can you stitch it?”

  “Not in the next ten minutes,” he replied. “But a bandage should hold it until I’ve got some time to work.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, staring at the open doorway.

  I’d expected Cecilia to be freaked the fuck out. I’d even expected her to be pissed. But I hadn’t prepared for her to be unfazed. No, not unfazed, it was like she was completely unaware of everything that had happened.