“Where are you?”
“At Mike’s house. I missed you today.”
“I missed you, too. Are you coming over? Mike said we might not have to go to school tomorrow.”
That was a smart decision, and she tried not to think of how it impacted everyone else’s lives. “No, he’s right. No school tomorrow.” She shifted the phone to her other ear. “I have to stay out here with Mike tonight, all right? Are you okay staying with Anna?”
“Yes,” said Paisley. “We’re playing vacation.”
“Wow.”
Another rustle, then, “Amy, Alec’s cheating!”
“Hi Chloe.” Amy opened her jaw to try to pop her ears. If she had hearing loss by thirty, it would be because of that girl.
“Hi.”
“Are you having fun?”
“Yeah. I gotta go. Alec’s CHEATING!” She shouted the word so loudly Amy tore the phone away from her head.
“All right, have a good night.”
“Love you, Amy.”
Amy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Love you, too.”
It was the first time she’d said it to Chloe, and she was reminded of earlier, when she’d said the same words to Mike. He hadn’t said anything back that she could remember. Maybe he hadn’t heard them. Or maybe he’d forgotten in light of her dramatic finish.
“Bye, Mommy,” said Paisley a moment later. “Goodnight, sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
She hung up.
“I love you,” Amy said into the dial tone.
Mike was right. She had to call Val. As awful as it felt to put the woman in more danger, those two girls, and the man she’d just made love to, came first.
She flipped through the numbers in her phone, finding the one she never thought she’d dial.
It went straight to voicemail. A generic message, left by an automated voice.
“Hey Val,” said Amy. “I...I really need to talk to you. Can you call me back as soon as you get this? Thanks.”
She set the phone on the table, and willed it to ring. Each second that passed made her stomach twist a little bit more.
A creak from behind her drew her attention, and she turned to see Mike leaning against the threshold to the kitchen, watching her. Without a word, he put away the ice cream, picked her up, and carried her up the stairs.
Chapter Thirty
She nuzzled her face against his neck, breathing him in while he maneuvered around the corner at the top of the staircase.
“I can walk, you know.”
“I know,” he said. “But this is so much more impressive, don’t you think?”
She smiled, and because she couldn’t help herself, kissed beneath his chin.
He carried her through the master bedroom, into the bathroom, and set her on the counter, where he’d already cleared aside her products, blow dryer, and even birth control. She couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious, but that evaporated as soon as she saw the tub filled with water, and the lit candle sitting on the far ledge.
“Oh,” she said.
He knelt down to feel the temperature of the water, and it became obvious he intended on staying.
“Are you getting in with me?” she asked. The light in the bedroom was on, making it brighter in this room than it had been downstairs when they’d been together.
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She smashed her lips to the side, pouting, without even intending to. She was pretty sure the real truth was he didn’t feel comfortable tucked all the way upstairs while someone might be waiting outside. For a moment, she considered that maybe she shouldn’t be doing this either, but she really did need a bath.
He rose, waited, and she could feel the goosebumps race over her skin, even beneath the blanket. She became acutely aware that the blanket was the only thing separating her body from his gaze.
“Take it off,” he said quietly.
The blanket fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor.
He stared at her for one long, burning moment, one hand on his throat, as if it was hard to breathe. She looked down, wanting to see what he did, and her hair fell forward on her cheeks. Her nipples were tight and rosy, her chest flushed. The small, damp triangle of blond curls shone with dampness. Her toenails were midnight blue.
“God damn,” said the man who rarely swore.
She felt a flutter in her stomach. “Is that good?”
“Not if you want me to keep my hands to myself.”
She stepped closer. “Maybe I don’t.”
The words were strong, and saying them made her feel bold.
He gave a low, dangerous chuckle. “Get in the tub before I bend you over the counter.”
A thrill shimmered through her. She had never liked doing it that way before—with her back to the man who touched her—but the thought of doing it with Mike made her sex clench hard.
“Do you want me like that?” she asked.
He groaned, and his erection became obvious in his pants. The sight of it made her even hotter.
“There’s no way I don’t want you,” he said. “Get in the tub.”
She did as he said, stepping into the perfectly warm water, and sinking down. She hadn’t taken a bath in who knew how long, and it felt luxurious. She leaned back against the back of the tub, and closed her eyes.
Taking a seat on the ledge, he looked down at her through the clear water. She moved a little, sliding on the porcelain, as he lathered the soap on the washcloth.
He was going to wash her.
No one had ever done that before.
She swallowed, and sat up, and when she leaned forward, he moved her hair over her shoulder, and rubbed the soft cloth over her back. When her skin was slick, he massaged her shoulders, and it felt so amazing she thought she might not even be able to stop herself from falling face forward and drowning.
“That feels good,” she half-groaned.
He paused. Continued.
“Mike?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you like...being with me?”
Another pause. He returned to kneading her tense shoulders with this thumbs.
“I mean,” she said, hugging her legs tighter. “Do you like sleeping with me?”
He waited a beat. “Do I like touching you?” he clarified.
She nodded.
“More than breathing.”
She kissed his wrist as he reached across to her opposite shoulder. “What do you like about it?”
Waiting on his answer made her more aware of her own naked body, and of his slick hands, and the muscles of his forearms she was pretending not to stare at.
“Do you remember what you said before you passed out?” he asked.
She froze. She couldn’t see his face as she bent over her knees, arms wrapped around her shins.
“No?”
“When you say it like a question, does it mean yes?”
“No?” she tried again.
He washed her arms, down to her fingers, taking care to clean each one. When he didn’t say more, it made her nervous. She shouldn’t have blurted that out. Even though it was what she felt, maybe saying the words aloud crossed some invisible line. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that. Or maybe he’d only say them to his wife.
She didn’t like thinking about that.
“I was caught up in the moment,” she said. “It happens to everyone. I’m sure you’ve done the same thing in...a game.”
“In a game,” he repeated.
“You know, great...pass, nice catch, I love you, slap on the ass.”
Was her skin actually on fire? Because it felt like it might be.
“No,” he said slowly. “I’ve never done that in a game.”
“Well,” she said. “That’s unfortunate. For me.”
His jaw flexed. He looked like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t. She’d never seen him this way before—tongue tied and frustrated. It twisted her up that he mi
ght not feel the same way, or that if he did he couldn’t tell her. But another thought crossed her mind. Their positions had been switched. She was the one who needed to be patient and safe, because this was a place he’d been hurt before.
She’d found the chink in Mike’s armor.
For the first time she wondered if Danny hadn’t done her a favor by ending things so terribly. A broken body healed, but a broken heart remembered.
“I love you,” she said quietly. “If you can’t say it, that’s okay. But I love you.”
She’d always thought love made you weak, but it didn’t feel that way now. She rose, the water streaming down her body, and without even reaching for a towel, she climbed into his lap. He held her too tightly, and after a long while grabbed a towel and carried her to bed. There, he dried her, and kissed her, still unable to find the words he needed. His easy smile seemed unreachable. She fell asleep with his fingers combing through her hair.
In the darkness, hours later, she woke alone. Taking the blanket, she padded down the stairs to find him sitting on the couch, facing the door, his head in his hands.
Without a word, she crawled beside him, and nestled into his chest, spreading the blanket over them both. She could feel his exhaustion, and wished she could soak it up.
“I’m glad you came home,” he said.
***
Amy slept until ten the next morning, and only woke because Mike was saying her name.
“Amy, the phone,” he said. He held her cell in his broad palm, and she blinked down at the familiar number she’d dialed last night. Instantly, she was awake.
She answered: “Val?”
“Hey,” the other woman said. “I got your message. Is everything all right?”
With Mike beside her, Amy asked if they could meet. Somewhere safe, away from the salon and the Irish bar next door. They decided on the Hope House donation center. There was a room in the back where they could speak privately.
To Val’s credit, she didn’t ask for many details.
With the anticipation charging between them, Mike and Amy prepared to go. She wore skinny jeans and a kickass black blazer with a chunky silver zipper. He wore slacks and a button down shirt. They took his truck from the garage, but as he passed her car on the street, he slammed on the brakes. There was a paper on her windshield, one she saw only briefly before he crumpled it in his fist.
A black and white photocopy of a fox.
She searched the neighborhood, but there was not the slightest bit of movement. Not even one of the neighbor’s stray cats.
***
The ride to Hope House donation center was quiet. His gaze kept roaming from mirror to mirror, while she nibbled at the granola bar he’d insisted she eat. She tried to focus on the task at hand and not the guilt roiling in her stomach. The only way out of this was Val, and once Val saw that the law would protect her, she’d have to help.
Of course, there were no guarantees, so that didn’t bode well.
Better to think positive.
Mike pulled into a parking spot at the back of the lot, and turned off the car.
“You ready?” he asked her. She was rubbing her damp palms on the thighs of her jeans.
“Never been more ready for anything in my life,” she said.
“It’s going to be all right.”
She wasn’t convinced, but nodded, because she wanted to believe him.
The donation center was empty, and the doorbell that rang overhead made her jump. The manager, Janice, waved from behind the desk of the small room, looking perfectly hippy in her long, flowing dress with her messy knot of silver curls.
“Back so soon?” she asked. She gave Mike a long second look, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of him, but after a moment smiled, seeming to accept that he wasn’t a threat.
Amy willed herself to appear calm.
“Amy.” Val emerged from the back room, but when she saw Mike she stopped fully, her face draining of color.
“Who are you?” she said, already taking a step back. It occurred to Amy that she thought he might have worked for her husband.
“He’s a friend,” said Amy. “He’s okay, I promise. He’s with me.”
She reached to take Mike’s hand, which did nothing to relax Val’s clenched fists.
“Can we talk?” asked Amy.
After a while, Val nodded.
She led them back to a small office, one that Mike’s big presence seemed to fill all of. There were four plastic chairs all facing each other, and a large binder entitled LOCAL RESOURCES sat on a rickety wooden bookshelf.
“So what’s this about?” asked Val, still standing.
Amy, hoping to lead by example, took a seat. Mike extended a hand in Val’s direction.
“Mike Stroud,” he said. “Thanks for meeting us. I know things aren’t easy right now.” He sounded like he had that first night Anna had brought Amy to the YMCA for his self-defense class. Soothing. Honest. Safe.
Her green eyes flicked to Amy. There was no use prolonging the inevitable.
“Some men came after me trying to collect on a bad debt,” Amy said. “Not mine, my ex’s.”
Val’s expression turned wary, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“They hurt you?”
It didn’t sound like this would have surprised her. To Amy’s side, she saw Mike’s shoulder twitch.
“No,” she answered. “I’m okay.”
“He borrowed from Corbett,” Val surmised.
Amy nodded.
Val sighed. “What was it? Gambling?” She held her hand up. “Never mind, don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it.”
“Val.” Amy stood. “These men want money, and once they realize I don’t have it, bad things are going to happen to my family.”
Val held her hands out. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it. I left, Amy. You know I left. I can’t talk to him.”
“We’re not asking you to,” Mike said. “We don’t want to make things worse for you.”
“Well...” Val held her hands out.
Amy placed a hand on the woman’s broad shoulder. “If you tell the cops what you know, they can protect you.”
“A prosecutor,” Mike amended. “From what I hear, they’ve been trying to get your husband for a long time.”
Val snorted, as if to say, tell me something I don’t know.
“You know a lot about Corbett,” said Mike.
She shook her head, but in a way that meant yes.
“He’s put you in a bad position, holding secrets.”
She slumped.
Mike sat, and then to Amy’s amazement, Val sat as well. Amy decided to let him work his magic.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“You don’t deserve that,” Mike said.
“How do you know what I deserve?” she answered.
“Because no one deserves it,” he said. “No one deserves to be backed into a corner, and scared. Made a secret keeper when those secrets endanger their family.”
A tear formed in the corner of Val’s eye. She swiped at it impatiently.
“You did a strong thing, leaving,” he said. “And now I hear this place is closing.”
Val swiped at another tear. “Some luck, huh?”
“Some luck,” Mike repeated. “Bet not many places feel very safe right now.”
“Not really.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, genuinely enough that she muttered a small thanks.
“Amy said you have a daughter, too,” he said. “I’m sure you’d do anything for her.”
Val nodded.
“My little girl’s seven,” said Mike. “Thinks she runs the show.”
Val gave a dry, empathetic laugh.
“Amy’s daughter is six,” he continued. “She’s smart. Always watching. One day we’ll all be working for her.”
Amy’s heart lurched to hear him talk of Paisley with such fondness. To see it in hi
s soft, proud smile.
“My Kelly was like that,” said Val. “Before boys entered the picture anyway.”
“We’re all here now for the same reason,” said Mike.
Val stared at the wall. “If I rat, he’ll kill me. He said he’d kill me. He told me how.”
Amy shivered. “They can trade your testimony for safety. Witness protection or something.” She looked to Mike for confirmation. He nodded.
Val was quiet, arms wrapped around her stomach like she might be sick.
“Amy, I know I said I’d help, but my daughter needs her mom.”
“And mine needs hers.” A chilly desperation hardened Amy’s words. “I almost didn’t come, believe me. I know what it’s like to be scared of the man you were supposed to trust, and I wouldn’t put you in this situation if I didn’t see another way.”
Silence. Endless silence.
“You could have a new life,” said Amy. “Start over.”
More silence.
“You can’t hide forever,” said Amy. “You can’t live like that. Let’s say you move to a new town, then what? Your problems just disappear? You never look over your shoulder again, wondering if he’s around? If your daughter’s seen him? If he might come back for you? This will never end unless you put a stop to it yourself.”
Beside her, Mike inhaled audibly.
“You’re positive about the protection?” Val finally said.
Mike tilted down, until Val met his eyes, and even though Amy wasn’t a part of that gaze she could imagine all the warmth and reassurance that the other woman would see there.
“I’m not,” he said. “But we can feel it out and see what they say. I’ll help you through it. We can ask for a deal together. And if they don’t offer, Amy and I will think of something else.”
Amy felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. When Val finally nodded, she fought the urge to jump up and hug her.
“Now what?” asked Val.
“Now we call my friend the cop,” Amy said. “And he tells us where to go from here.”
***
It took some time for Marcos to get to Hope House from Mac’s restaurant where he’d been keeping guard, but when he arrived he was in uniform, and cleanly shaven. He took Val out the back door, and Mike and Amy followed behind in the truck as the cruiser made its way downtown to the station. There, they waited in tense silence in a mirrored room with a video camera in the corner. All the while Amy paced, wondering, Does Aiden Farrell or his friend from the club know I’m here? Will he punish me for going to the cops? There was no stopping it now, though. The wheels were already set in motion, and hopefully by the end of the day, they’d have a warrant for his arrest, along with Corbett Connolly’s.
More: A Body Work Novel (The Body Work Trilogy Book 4) Page 29