MIDNIGHT QUEST: A Short 'Men of Midnight' Novel

by Lisa Marie Rice

  The doorbell rang and her eyes popped open. Jacko didn’t ring the doorbell. He just entered, quiet as a panther. Who could it possibly be at this hour?

  Felicity, Isabel and Summer. That’s who. She stared at her friends on the wall panel and hesitated just a second before pressing the button that would open the door.

  She loved her friends. Seeing them at her door under ordinary circumstances would fill her with happiness, because she’d know for a fact that laughter and probably excellent cake supplied by Isabel would follow.

  But not tonight. Tonight she and Jacko had things to thrash out.

  But they were here and they loved her so she pressed the button.

  “Surprise!” Felicity came in first, kissing her cheek. “We bring gifts. Or rather, Isabel brings gifts. You wouldn’t want my cooking.”

  “Or mine.” Summer Delvaux, married to Isabel’s brother, stepped into the room and kissed her. She shuddered. “Jack complains all the time about my cooking. Lucky thing Isabel lives so close.”

  Isabel brought up the rear, holding a tinfoil-covered pan to one side as she kissed Lauren’s cheek, too. “Double chocolate fudge. Pure evil sin. We’re definitely going to hell, but not before having a really good time.”

  Lauren forced herself to smile as she shut the door behind them. She checked the time on the ormolu clock on the mantle that had belonged to her great-grandmother. 8:00 p.m. Jacko was late. He was never late without calling, which meant he’d be coming home any second now. He enjoyed the company of Felicity, Isabel and Summer. Metal was his best friend. Isabel’s guy, Joe Harris, was another good friend. Joe and Metal and Jacko had served together as SEALs. Summer’s love, Jack Delvaux, Isabel’s brother, was a recent addition to ASI.

  They all hung out together a lot and always had a really good time.

  But not tonight.

  Felicity, Isabel and Summer were making themselves at home. They knew where to hang the coats and made a beeline for the kitchen. They stopped on the threshold when they saw the small dining room just off the kitchen. The table was set for an occasion with a lace tablecloth and Lauren’s best china. Two tall candles in crystal candleholders were just waiting to be lit.

  “Ah, ladies?” Lauren gave a weak smile. “I’m delighted to see you, and Isabel? That fudge is not leaving this house, but tonight isn’t the best of evenings to get together. I’m having, um, a special dinner with Jacko.”

  Felicity turned and caught Lauren’s hands. She was taller than Lauren so when she bent forward to give her a hug, Lauren fit against her shoulder.

  “Honey…” Felicity looked at Isabel and Summer, then back at her. “That’s why we’re here. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. I don’t think Jacko is coming home.”

  Her head swam. Lauren shot out a hand to steady herself, but she found herself held upright by her friends.

  “Ever?” Lauren whispered, shocked to her toes. Her knees trembled.

  Isabel and Summer held her, made her sit down on one of the dining table chairs. Summer gently pushed the nape of her neck down between her knees. “Breathe,” Summer said calmly.

  Lauren barely heard her. Jacko wasn’t coming home? He was leaving her? She tried to imagine a universe in which Jacko left her, but she couldn’t.

  She lifted her head in time to see Isabel roll her eyes at Felicity. “Way to go, Felicity. Don’t mind her, honey. She’s a nerd, hopeless around humans.”

  “Yes, I am. I’m really sorry to give you a shock.” Felicity hung her head, long blonde ponytail hanging to the side of her face. “And Jacko is not leaving you. I don’t think he knows how to leave you. But he has gone away. For a little while.”

  Lauren’s head was still whirling. Nothing made sense.

  Summer stuck her head in the fridge. “This situation calls for Prosecco and fudge, stat.” She pulled out a bottle of Prosecco Lauren had been keeping for Jacko. Jacko disliked champagne but loved Prosecco, go figure.

  “Not for me,” she said.

  “Not for Lauren,” Felicity said at the same time.

  Summer stopped, bottle in hand, and looked between the two of them. She was super-smart and put it together in a flash. “You’re pregnant,” she said to Lauren.

  God. Summer was a Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist. She’d uncovered the conspiracy behind the Washington Massacre. One pregnancy—even if just a few cells along—was nothing to her eagle eyes.

  “Barely.” Lauren sighed. “Barely pregnant.”

  “No such thing as barely pregnant.” Isabel sat down beside her and took her hand. “How far along are you?”

  “Far enough along to avoid alcohol. And you guys weren’t supposed to know for a while.”

  “Nothing escapes us,” Summer said smugly, taking the dinner plates off the table and setting it with dessert plates. Isabel placed the big pan of fudge on the table and started cutting squares. “We are all-knowing and all-seeing.”

  “And we have brought the panacea for all ailments. Chocolate.” Isabel started serving, giving Lauren an extra-large portion.

  Lauren was worried sick about Jacko, but the large square of luscious-looking dark chocolate on her rose-covered dessert plates took a little of the edge off the anxiety. She was about to say so when her cell rang.

  She rushed to pick it up. The breath whooshed out of her lungs when she saw who was calling. Jacko. Thank God.

  She moved quietly into the bedroom for privacy. The girls were busy with the fudge, but looked up curiously when she moved away. She looked at them fondly, Isabel, Felicity and Summer, each with a bite of fudge speared on a dessert fork. They cared for her and she cared for them, but right now, she needed to talk to Jacko like she needed air.

  Closing the bedroom door, she clicked the connection. “Jacko? Darling, I’m so glad to hear your voice. Why aren’t you home?”

  There was nothing but silence on the other end.

  Lauren pressed the cell harder against her ear. She could make out the faint sound of breathing. Jacko’s breathing was like everything about him—strong and steady. But this sounded ragged, stressed.

  “Darling?”

  Silence. But she could almost hear him listening on the other end. She had no idea where he was but could picture him, listening hard, unable to speak.

  For an instant it scared her—Jacko unable to speak. Jacko could do anything. He was the strongest, most capable man she’d ever met.

  But this wasn’t about her and her fear of losing him. It was about Jacko. To behave like this—totally unlike him—must mean he was hurting badly.

  Lauren turned on her bedside lamp and sat down on her side of the bed. She placed a hand on the mattress for balance as she sat, then curved the hand over her belly.

  How many times had they made love on this bed? This was probably where they conceived the child that lay under her hand.

  She loved them both so much. The child and the man.

  “Jacko?”

  When he didn’t answer, she began speaking.

  “I don’t know where you are, darling. I hope you’re well. I had a nice dinner all planned for us, to—to celebrate. I know the news of our child upset you, somehow. I don’t pretend to understand it, but I respect it. It’s hard—dealing with the thought of becoming a mother or a father. Maybe it’s easier for me because I had a little more time to get used to it. And I can feel it—him or her. He or she is tiny still, but I can feel something growing inside me. I think in time you’ll get used to the idea. There’s so much love inside you, Jacko. I know you’re surprised at how much you love me. You’ve told me that so many times. And I wonder if you feel you only have room for one in your heart. But—I don’t think it works like that, you know? I think the heart expands. You’ve got a big heart, my darling. A big, strong heart. There’s room for both of us inside.”

  She stopped because the tears she didn’t want to shed could be heard in her voice. Whatever was going on inside Jacko was a
battle only he could fight. She didn’t want to add to his burden. But she did want him to know she loved him.

  “I know that because I know there’s room in my heart for you and our baby. And maybe more babies to come. Who knows?”

  Her voice wobbled and she covered her face with her hand.

  They sat listening to each other breathing, connected only via radio waves and by their hearts and the love they had for each other.

  “Felicity, Isabel and Summer are over. They’re in the kitchen right now and I suspect they might end up eating the dinner I prepared for us. That’s okay. It’s just food. I’ll prepare another nice meal for when you come home.”

  More silence.

  Lauren refused to think of Jacko not ever coming home again. It was unthinkable.

  “When you come back, we’ll celebrate, won’t we, darling? Because it’s something to celebrate. We made a new life together, you and me. A child. A boy or a girl who will grow up loved, healthy and happy. You’ve worked so hard to make the world a safer place. We’ll work hard together to give the world someone better. Did you know Isabel and Joe are talking about having kids? And Isabel is trying to get Summer and Jack to think of having kids, too. Jack is all for it, Summer said. But then Isabel and Jack grew up in an amazing family. Summer—not so much. It’s hard if you haven’t grown up in a happy family. I didn’t, and God knows you didn’t either. You haven’t said much about your mom, but it’s enough to understand you had it rough. Our child won’t have it rough. We’ll love her, or him. Our child will grow up with Isabel and Joe’s kids, and maybe Summer and Jack’s kids. Like cousins.”

  In the silence, sounds from the kitchen filtered through.

  “I’m going to hang up now, darling. I need to get back to the girls before they finish the amazing fudge Isabel brought. Wherever you are, I love you.” She waited a minute until her voice steadied. “Come home to me, Jacko. Come home to us.”

  She clicked off and sat, head bowed, until her hands stopped trembling and she could take a deep breath without choking.

  Back in the kitchen, she nearly laughed at the tableau. Three women looked up guiltily. Half the pan of fudge was gone, as was the bottle of Prosecco.

  “Here,” Isabel said, putting a saucer and cup on the table. She produced a teapot she’d taken from Lauren’s cupboard. “I made you some tea. Ginger and lemon in case you’re having trouble digesting.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren dredged up a credible smile and sat down. The tea was still hot and delicious, and settled her stomach. “I’m glad you guys left me a little chocolate.”

  Felicity hesitated, then put her long hand over Lauren’s. “That was Jacko, wasn’t it?”

  All three looked at her, concern in their eyes.

  “Yes.” Lauren coughed to loosen her throat. “It was.”

  “It’ll be okay. I think he needs some time, that’s all.” Felicity was known for her straight talk. She didn’t sugarcoat anything.

  “Yes.” Suddenly, Lauren straightened up, sat taller. She was with her three best friends in the world. Her child was going to grow up with them, consider them aunts. Her child was going to grow up with two loving parents, surrounded by loving adults. “Jacko will be back as soon as he’s done what he needs to do.”

  All three nodded soberly.

  “He’ll be back.” Lauren believed that with all her heart.

  “Absolutely.” Summer pushed a plate of fudge to her. “Have some chocolate.”

  Jacko had driven the Portland–San Diego route many times along the Pacific Coast Highway. It was a beautiful drive, but slow. Now he wanted to arrow down and across to Rancho San Diego as fast as possible.

  He could fly. But he’d have to wait until tomorrow, book a ticket on the first flight, rent a car…

  No. Not while he felt like he was jumping out of his skin. He had to get going now. It was going to be a long, long drive, but he didn’t care. He needed to be alone and he needed to think, so he took the I-5 and settled in.

  But first he’d had to talk to Lauren. He couldn’t just disappear on her. She’d be worried and that felt like broken glass under his skin. The thought of making Lauren unhappy, worried, because of him—he couldn’t go there. Couldn’t do it.

  But the thing was—he’d already done it. He hadn’t gone home, to the dinner she prepared. He knew what her special dinners were like. She brought out her best everything, prepared an extra-nice meal. She’d have set the tables with candles. She’d have made a fuss over the food. She loved it.

  He loved it.

  No one had ever made a special occasion for him. Somehow Lauren understood that and so she celebrated everything it was possible to celebrate. Birthdays, promotions, when he came home from a road trip. Christmas, Easter, Labor Day, Memorial Day, the fourth of July…she did it all, because she knew how much he loved it.

  So she’d prepared a special meal tonight so they could celebrate the fact that she was expecting their child.

  Jacko swallowed what felt like stones.

  Jesus.

  He’d just skipped out on her. Disappeared, like some lowlife. Like the guys who fucked his mom and then left.

  He wasn’t any different. The fact that he loved Lauren didn’t make him any better than they were. Made him worse than they were because she expected more from him.

  All he had to do was turn around. He was near Crater Lake. Just call up, say he’d had a work thing, would be home a little late, and she’d forgive him. She always did. Never even complained.

  He could do that right now. Call up and say—I’m coming home.

  Jacko swerved to the side of the road and parked in a lay-by. He dialed and after two rings, she picked up.

  He closed his eyes when he heard her soft voice asking where he was.

  Away, he wanted to answer. I’m away from you and I don’t want to be. I’m coming home.

  But he didn’t.

  He didn’t say anything. For the life of him, he couldn’t get anything out at all. His throat burned, he couldn’t push air out, couldn’t do anything but listen to her talking to him, gently and with love.

  She understood. He didn’t know what she understood. He didn’t understand too much himself. Since when couldn’t he even fucking talk? But she got it that something was happening and she wasn’t mad at him, which was a miracle. She was sad, though.

  Yeah, what the hell did he expect? That she’d be happy he was behaving like an asshole?

  At least she wasn’t alone. Felicity, Isabel and Summer were with her. And that meant that Metal, Joe and Jack would be watching over her, too. He was lucky that he had people in his life who’d look after Lauren, who cared about her.

  And about him, too.

  Speaking of which—he picked up his cell after Lauren hung up and tapped a number.

  Metal. Not happy.

  “Dude, the fuck are you doing?”

  Jacko didn’t have any trouble talking to Metal. His throat didn’t seize up. He could talk just fine.

  “Gotta do this.”

  “Gotta do what? Leave Lauren while she’s expecting? Just pick up and go when you hear you’re going to be a dad? What kind of fuckhead does that?”

  Jacko’s jaw clenched. The guys at ASI and their women had this internal intel machine that was amazing. Everybody knew everything at once. He was sure Felicity hadn’t talked, but then she didn’t have to. Women had sixth senses about things like love affairs and pregnancies. And the women talked to their men.

  Jacko didn’t have time for this.

  “I won’t be gone more than a few days. Look after Lauren for me.” He closed the connection and turned his cell off. He’d talked to everyone he needed to. Lauren and one of the guys.

  Well, he hadn’t talked talked to Lauren, but they’d communicated, in a half-assed way. And he’d told Metal to take care of Lauren, knowing that meant Joe and Jack and his bosses, John Huntington and his former senior chief, Douglas Kowalski, would be there if Lauren needed anythin
g. Their wives, too. Suzanne and Allegra.

  Lauren had a tribe to look after her while Jacko went out and did what he had to do.

  He pulled out onto the Interstate, propelled by forces stronger than he was. Forces that had begun before his birth. Forces not even his love for Lauren could deny.

  He pressed on the accelerator, continuing his journey south.

  Men trooped in and out of the house all day. It started with one of Jacko’s two bosses, Douglas Kowalski. He stopped by in the early morning with fresh croissants from the local bakery. The croissants were not as good as the ones Isabel baked, but then she was in a class of her own.

  Douglas looked as scary as Jacko, only taller and older and more scarred. But his shoulders were just as broad and his voice just as deep as Jacko’s, and he gave off the same vibe. Don’t mess with me. She’d been terrified the first time she’d seen him, just as she’d been terrified when Suzanne Huntington had sent Jacko to pick her up.

  To outsiders, they were both cold-eyed warriors you’d be happy to have at your side in a fight, but would not invite to a party. Neither of them were any good at small talk.

  But both of them had a totally unexpected gentle side, particularly with the ladies.

  Douglas didn’t step inside, though Lauren invited him in for coffee. He just handed her the bag of croissants and peeked inside from the threshold. If you found out he had X-ray vision you wouldn’t be surprised, his looks were that keen.

  “Anything you need?” he asked, his voice a low rumble. “Anything needs fixing?”

  Lauren avoided the obvious and didn’t say—my relationship with Jacko.

  “Thanks, Douglas, but everything is in working order.”

  It better be. The instant something didn’t work, Jacko was on it and didn’t rest until it was fixed. It was like the ASI motto—everything shall be in excellent shape.

  He looked at her fiercely, pointed a long index finger at her. “You need anything, anything at all, you call me, you hear?”

  That was an order. An order by someone who had commanded Navy SEALs. It carried bite and heft. Lauren restrained herself from saluting.