Narrow Escape

by Camy Tang

  However as he walked up the three steps to the front door, his leg suddenly wobbled and gave way.

  As he stumbled, pain splintered up his leg, stabbing needles into his hip. His hand slammed out against the house wall to steady himself, and he squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth against the agony in his leg.

  “You okay?” Liam’s voice was gruff, as if unsure if he ought to be concerned or not.

  “Fine. I’ve just been sitting for too long.” Nathan had tried to stretch his legs each time they’d stopped along the drive, but after driving to and from Los Angeles in one day, his leg muscles were weak and twitchy.

  Liam bent and picked up the duffel bag Nathan had dropped, then silently carried it inside for him—didn’t ask, didn’t say anything, didn’t show sympathy. Nathan was glad.

  He stayed outside a moment, breathing in the honeysuckle, one hand still braced against the house and the other massaging his leg, although it didn’t stop the pain. The bone ached deep inside with a sharp, rolling torture that no amount of massage could ease.

  Half a man. He was barely half a man. Why did Arissa come to him when he couldn’t even walk up three steps into a house? Why did she have to look at him as if she completely trusted him to protect her and Charity, when he wasn’t sure he could even protect himself? He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be near her, he shouldn’t be helping her. She’d disrupted the calm, peaceful place he’d found after realizing what his leg would never be able to do ever again. She made him feel things he’d rather not be feeling.

  In so many ways, she was the last person he should get close to. He’d been the one to suspect her brother was a mole. That brother had been the reason he’d been shot and injured. And that injury made him feel somehow set apart from other men, set apart from normal relationships. And worst of all, his injury might end up getting them hurt or killed.

  A deep sliver of fear inside him whispered that he was only setting himself up to fail them all.

  SIX

  When Nathan returned from putting away his bag, Arissa noticed a tightness around his eyes, even though he avoided looking at her.

  It was just as well. Their kiss had made her feel like she’d been bucked off a horse—exhilarating, but painful when crashing back to reality.

  When he’d taken Charity from her, she hadn’t wanted to move away from his nearness. She could smell his musk and lime, mingled with honeysuckle, and it filled her lungs, making her not want to exhale. The strong column of his throat had gleamed in the moonlight while his jaw, shadowed, had seemed softer, vulnerable. She hadn’t been able to see his eyes clearly, but she’d felt their gaze on her face, and she couldn’t look away. She’d wanted him to draw nearer to her, and when he did, she had lifted her lips to meet his.

  His kiss made the ground drop from under her feet. Even though his arms weren’t around her, she somehow felt as if they were anchoring her. It had been the three of them in a sheltering circle, a place set apart from the rest of the world, a place where she could open herself up to him and never be hurt.

  She had been about to reach up to touch his cheek when the light had gone on and Liam had opened the door. The way he broke away from her had been like a slap.

  But really, she couldn’t blame him. Why would he want to get more deeply involved with her than he already was? She’d put his family in danger. She had a three-year-old whose parents had been involved in one way or another with a ruthless drug gang. He hadn’t had to work today because of the double shift he’d pulled the day before, but she couldn’t keep him from his job forever. He needed to get rid of her and Charity and get back to his life, without drug gangs and bullets like the one that shattered his career.

  But a part of her dreamed of a world where he’d look at her the way he had before the day at the chop shop. She’d seen a shadow of that look tonight, but now it was completely erased from his face.

  Liam had gone out to the garage and found a couple more folding chairs for them to sit on in his bare living room. Nathan now sank into one with a grimace that he quickly smoothed from his face. He glanced at her, as if worried she’d seen his pain, then quickly looked away.

  He didn’t want her to worry about his injury. Worry...or pity?

  The realization startled her, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. He was like Mark had been—confident when he was healthy and fit, but somehow emotionally damaged when he was physically injured or ill.

  Well, she’d lived in close proximity to her brother. She definitely knew how to handle Nathan.

  She glanced at the time on her cell phone—nearly nine o’clock. “Did you eat dinner yet?” she asked Liam. “I can cook if you’ve got food.” She headed to the small, practically vintage fridge and was pleasantly surprised to see it stocked.

  “Shaun’s girlfriend, Monica, came by yesterday with groceries for me.” Liam spoke from over her shoulder, sounding a bit sheepish. “I’ve been making peanut butter sandwiches for the week I’ve been back.”

  “I can whip up something.” Arissa reached for the broccoli and flank steak. A stir fry would feed them all and be fast. “Got any rice?”

  He pointed to one of the cabinets near the floor. “Monica brought a bag.”

  She started the rice in a pot on the stove and then made a stir fry of slices of beef with chunks of vegetables, flavored with hot pepper flakes. She could have wished for some other sauces to flavor it with, but Liam’s cupboards were sparse.

  Nathan and Liam sifted through the box of Mark’s papers while she worked, and she took the time to calm her emotions, walling them away. The kiss had never happened. He obviously regretted it and she wasn’t about to embarrass him or herself by making it a big deal. It was an aberration brought on by moonlight and honeysuckle.

  But when she brought the food to them, bowls of rice with the stir fry spooned on top, Nathan’s fingers covered hers when he reached for his bowl. She almost thought his touch lingered on hers before he pulled away his meal, nearly spilling a piece of broccoli from the edge of the bowl. “Thanks,” he said.

  “Smells good.” Liam dug into the food with gusto, making Arissa wonder if he hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in a while.

  She sank into a chair with her own serving and asked, “Liam, why aren’t you staying with your dad? Or one of your brothers?”

  “Michael’s up north in Mendocino, and I didn’t want to live there. Too far away from Dad. Brady’s wife is nice, but she...” He waved his hand in a fluttering motion. “...worries about me a lot.”

  Arissa bit back a smile but understood his feelings. Mark was the same way when Mom worried about any injuries he got on the job. While he’d loved his mom fiercely, it hadn’t prevented him from being tired out by her hovering.

  “Dad twisted his knee a few months ago and since Shaun’s still living with him, he’s helping take care of him.” Liam shrugged. “I didn’t want to be in the way.”

  “It’s a good thing he’s not living with his family,” Nathan said gruffly. “So no one else knows he’s here. It’s a safer place for us to stay.”

  Arissa set down her bowl in her lap. “I just don’t want to bring trouble on you, too.”

  “You won’t,” Liam said. “The gang won’t find you here because even if they’re watching Nathan’s family to see if he’d hid with them, no one else knows I’m back from Afghanistan, and most people would probably expect me to stay with one of my family.”

  True—after all, she had expected it.

  “If we can determine why the gang wants you, and what Mark was up to, we can plan what to do next,” Nathan said. “Staying with Liam will be safe for a while, but if it comes to it, Liam can help you and Charity disappear.”

  He avoided her eye as he said it. He was probably looking forward to getting her out of his hair, one way or another.
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br />   But like Nathan’s father had told her, she and Charity needed to figure out what the gang was after. Otherwise, they would be on the run, maybe for the rest of their lives. And her family might still be in danger. The situation seemed to drain something from inside her, leaving her weak and trembling. Why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t Mark’s secrets have stayed in the past?

  Why did it feel like God had abandoned her?

  She had to keep Charity safe, no matter what. She had to do this. She just didn’t know if she had the strength to. She was grateful for Nathan and Liam’s help, but ultimately she had to find inner reserves to get herself and Charity through this—and she was starting to run dry.

  She was so tired. She felt so alone.

  She did her best to shake off the sense of helplessness. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Have you found anything?”

  They continued going through the box until finally it was time to go to bed, but found nothing unusual. Sometimes Liam or Nathan would show her something, and while she tried to keep her suspicions high and see if it might be something more than it seemed, they couldn’t find anything concrete they could act on.

  His old credit card statements were vague. Meals at Filipino restaurants—well, she ate there, too, because they were near her parents’ store. No huge purchases except one $250 purchase at Macy’s—but it was the day before her mom’s birthday, and she seemed to recall she and Mark and her dad pooling their money for a gift certificate for Mom one year. There was a large bill at a garage when Mark’s car had been relatively new and problem-free, but Arissa noticed it was the garage her father always used, and she remembered her father’s truck had needed a new muffler.

  “The day Mark died...” Arissa paused. While it didn’t upset her as much now, she had a feeling it might upset Nathan. However, he nodded for her to continue. “The day Mark died, Dad was driving Mark’s car to take Mom to and from the hospital.”

  Nathan’s brow knit, and then his eyebrows rose. “Yes, that day, Mark was driving that ancient little Escort you used to have.”

  “How do you remember that?”

  He hesitated, then said quietly, “I followed him to the chop shop, remember?”

  Mark’s betrayal settled on her shoulders, guilt and pain mingled together. Focus, she had to focus. She shook off the feeling and kept looking through the papers in her lap.

  Long after Nathan and Liam had gone next door to go to sleep, she lay next to Charity, hearing her soft breathing, but feeling more alone than ever. She almost asked God if He were there...but she kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t want to doubt God, but what she felt right now scared her because it felt like doubt.

  The next morning, Charity awoke early and Arissa started a pot of coffee in the empty kitchen. She found some oatmeal in the cupboards and made breakfast for herself and her niece, then settled her on the mattress in the bedroom with the dolls they’d taken from the storage unit yesterday.

  By that time, Liam and Nathan entered the house and she made breakfast for them, as well. Then they went back to work—tedious work that began to make her vision swim with numbers and names. This time, she offered to go through Mark’s personal email account. Internal Affairs had looked through it, also, in addition to his LAPD email account, but Nathan wanted to cover all the bases, and she happened to know Mark’s password. It didn’t take her more than an hour—Mark had mostly used his LAPD address, so his personal email account had very little besides a few newsletters and messages from herself or her cousins.

  “Nothing.” She sat back in the folding chair in front of Liam’s laptop computer and rubbed her eyes.

  “Did you check his sent folder?” Nathan looked up from the credit card statement he was poring over.

  “Yes. Nothing looked strange. He mostly emailed me or our family.”

  “How about school friends or work colleagues?” Liam said. “Someone you wouldn’t know personally.”

  She shook her head. “He used this email almost entirely for family, and his work one for everything else. There are a few to and from Nathan, but I think he mostly used his work email address when messaging you.”

  Nathan nodded. “I got the fastest response if I used his work rather than his personal email address.”

  “I did, too. He only checked his personal account once a week or so.” She sighed and stared at Liam’s computer screen. “Do we really think this will get us anywhere? Internal Affairs saw all this and didn’t find anything.”

  “What didn’t Internal Affairs see?” Liam asked.

  “That batch of junk mail.” She reached into the other box and pulled out the orange shoebox.

  They began slitting open the envelopes, even when it was obvious it was pure junk mail—credit card applications, sweepstakes, magazine subscription renewals.

  “Did he actually get these magazines?” Nathan asked.

  Good question. She stared at the renewals. “Yes. I remember seeing all of them.”

  She opened an envelope that looked like another credit card application, but upon reading it, froze. “Nathan.” Her voice came out sounding strangled.

  It was a letter from First Sonoma Bank. Not a credit card application, but a notice that payment for his safe deposit box was due and if he didn’t return payment with the attached stub, payment would be deducted from his checking account at no charge to him.

  Nathan’s brows flattened over his eyes, which turned a stormy gray. “First Sonoma Bank?”

  “He didn’t have a Sonoma bank account as far as I knew.”

  “It’s an...unusual bank,” Liam said.

  “Unusual how?” Arissa asked.

  Nathan replied, “It’s not very vigilant about asking for identification papers or social security numbers, so a lot of illegal immigrants use it.”

  “So it would be a good place for a man with secrets.” Arissa looked at the paper. Here was definite proof Mark had been hiding something from her, and while it should have pained her, she only felt numb.

  “We need to get access to his safe deposit box.” Nathan took the page from her and read it again. “He obviously rented it for a reason.”

  “Do you think they’d let me access it since Charity’s his daughter? I have my guardianship papers in my wallet—I needed them recently when I added her to my health insurance.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” Nathan rose. “Let’s go. We’ll take Charity with us, just in case.”

  First Sonoma Bank was actually on the outskirts of Sonoma, an old building that had once been a Wells Fargo that had closed down. The landscaping looked like it had been grand at one point but now looked scraggly, and the stucco on the walls was dingy. The front glass doors, rusted and a little battered-looking, didn’t swing very easily and Arissa needed Nathan’s help to yank one of them open.

  Inside was cooler than the outside air but still a bit hot, as if they didn’t run their air conditioning unless it was necessary. The sounds of quiet conversations in Spanish filled the air. Arissa, being Filipino, almost looked like she could be Hispanic, but Nathan with his paler skin stuck out like a sore thumb.

  “Let me talk, okay?” She ushered Charity into line.

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because you look like you’re going to arrest someone.”

  The chagrined expression on his face made her smile, and suddenly it was as if they weren’t on the run, as if the shooting hadn’t happened, and he was simply running errands with her. As if things between them were normal and good.

  They might one day be normal but they’d never be good. She told herself to get a grip just as the next teller called her over.

  “My brother died and I want to access his account. This is his daughter and I’m her legal guardian.” Arissa passed over the guardianship papers as well as her L
os Angeles driver’s license. “My address is the same as my brother’s address in your database, and here’s his account number.” She’d copied the account number from the letter Mark had received onto a piece of paper, which she slid over to the teller. “I don’t have his death certificate, but I have his social security number, and here’s a printout of his obituary.” Liam had thought of that, and searched the newspaper online archives until he found it. She also passed over Charity’s identification card and a photocopy of her birth certificate.

  A more vigilant bank would probably require the death certificate as well as the results of the DNA test she’d had done, but luckily, First Sonoma didn’t ask many questions. The teller did scrutinize the papers, but quickly nodded and searched through her computer, an ancient machine that whirred so loudly Arissa hoped her request wasn’t going to cause it to crash. The teller finally said, “I have his information here.”

  “I’d like his account statements, please.” She wondered if he had years and years of records, and envisioned more papers to pore through. “I also want access to his safe deposit box.”

  “He opted to have his account statements online,” the teller said.

  Arissa was surprised the bank was that technologically advanced, but then again, if their patrons had access to the internet, it was less costly to the bank to give electronic statements rather than paper ones. “I don’t have his password.”

  “Here, I’ll write it down.” The teller gave her a piece of paper with the same password Mark had used for his email account. “Do you have his safe deposit key?”

  Arissa’s heart sank. “No. It might be with his things, but I couldn’t find it.”

  “I can get you another key, but it’ll take two or three weeks.”

  Weeks? Could they stay with Liam that long? Would the LSL gang find them by then? “All right,” she said slowly.