Hold Me Close

by Rosalind James

  She was staring at him. “What?”

  “I want to take you to bed, and I don’t mean just sweet and soft, because I want it all.” He saw her eyes widen, and he went on anyway. Recklessly, throwing it right into the wind. Going for broke. “I know you think I’m some . . . some knight, but that’s not me. The real me? The real me is lying in bed at night thinking about you naked. So, no. It’s not just about a rescue, and I’m no knight. Or if I am—I’m the kind of knight who’d be pulling you onto my horse and riding off with you. That’s in there, too, and I can’t lie and say it isn’t.”

  He stopped, because he was driving this thing right over the cliff, and he knew it. “But have I done that?” he demanded. “Have I?”

  “No.” She was still standing there, a pink flush mounting in her cheeks, her chest rising and falling with her breath, and if he’d had to describe his feelings right then, they would have been one hot mess.

  “No,” she said again. “You’ve barely touched me. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to. I mean, I knew you liked me, and you felt sorry for me, but—”

  He had to laugh at that. “I’ve wanted to. Just about, oh, every single time I’ve seen you, ever since I helped you haul that mattress. You hit me like a two-by-four upside the head that day, and it’s only getting worse. But I haven’t pushed it, because I didn’t want to lose any chance I had. And here I am pushing it anyway, because I can’t help it anymore. Because every time I’m with you, it gets worse. I’m keeping it under control, but—” He exhaled, a long breath. “It’s getting so hard.”

  “I’m not ready for that, though,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll be. I don’t know if I’ll be. You say you’re putting it out there? Well, this is me putting it out there. I don’t know. Things are . . . coming back in that area. But they’re not here. And I’m not making any promises. If helping me is a trade, I’m not trading. I don’t make deals like that anymore.”

  “No,” he said. “You don’t. When I—if I get you in my bed, it’s not going to be a trade. It’s going to be because you can’t stand to wait any longer, just like I can’t. When you can’t go another minute without touching me, or another day without having me inside you. That’s what I want, and that’s what I’m holding out for. But I’m a grown man who can make his choices and take his chances, and I’m taking a chance on you. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I’m sticking around all the same, and I’m going to be just as patient as I can be. Because you’re worth the chance.”

  He stopped then, but only because he’d run down. “How’m I doing on my nice Sunday walk?”

  She laughed in surprise, and he laughed back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. So. I kind of blew that, huh?”

  “No,” she said. “Maybe not. I think we both did all right. Do you think—do you think you could hold me a little?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I can do that.” He stepped toward her, and she came straight into his arms, her head coming to rest against his heart. Exactly where he needed it to be.

  He held her, and knew it was right. None of it had been anything close to his plan; he couldn’t even see around the next corner, and it didn’t matter. It was where she belonged.

  DISCOVERY

  When Alan walked through his door on Wednesday afternoon, the irritation that had been simmering from his lousy day heated up to a full boil. He should have been walking into a pristine house, because it was a housekeeping day. But he wasn’t. The service had bailed on him, just because he’d asked them to do what he was paying them for.

  “When I say that I don’t want footprints on the vacuuming,” he’d told the owner on the phone the previous week, “that’s what I mean. How hard is it to tell them to start at one end of the room and work backwards? How hard is it to get them to fold the towels in thirds, and to use the right amount of starch on my shirts? As long as you habla español, and that’s what you advertised. That you could communicate my wishes, and they would fulfill them. I suggest you start providing the service you advertised.”

  “My cleaners are doing their job,” the woman had said, sounding as stiff as if he’d been asking the moon. As if he weren’t entitled to what he’d paid outrageous money for. “You’re getting a meticulously cleaned house, just as you specified. We do our best to accommodate individual requests, as long as they’re reasonable. I suggest that if you want things done to that level of personal preference, you consider hiring a housekeeper you can instruct yourself.”

  “I had one. She turned out not to be able to follow instructions, either, no matter how many times I drove the point home. That’s why I hired a service. I was assuming that, in return for paying top dollar, I’d be getting top-dollar results. Let me be clear. That’s what I expect.”

  “It sounds to me like we’re at an impasse here then,” the woman said. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to meet your needs. It sounds to me like you’d be better off somewhere else.”

  She’d fired him, just because he’d asked her to up her game to what she’d promised. And now he had a house that hadn’t been vacuumed in a week. The carpet was lousy with footprints, not a single wastebasket had been emptied, and his laundry had piled up. He was going to have to spend his afternoon lining up another service. Even Kayla had eventually learned to clean and iron to his specifications after enough training, and she hadn’t been the brightest bulb in the chandelier. What the hell did it take?

  He went into the kitchen, grimaced at the dishes in the sink, pulled out the scotch bottle, and twisted it open, splashing some into a water glass and taking a long swallow.

  That wasn’t the worst of it, either. It was that ugly bitch of a district judge, sitting up there today in her black robe like she was God Almighty and denying his motion for a continuance.

  “The State isn’t ready to proceed, Your Honor,” he’d attempted to explain.

  “The State had better get ready then,” she’d said. “I’ve warned you about this before. You didn’t file on time. There are no real extenuating circumstances, and we’re moving forward on the first of November as scheduled.”

  He’d known that, underneath that fake-impassive manner, she’d been smirking, and so had the public defender, another woman, a young one in a black pantsuit that emphasized her fat ass. What was the difference between a lesbian lawyer and a pit bull? Lipstick.

  He took another swallow and carried his briefcase into the study. That was probably why the DA had been on his ass this morning, too. Probably been talking to the judge. The DA had his favorites, and Alan wasn’t one. Ever since the man had taken over three months earlier, things had been going straight to hell in the office. It was all politics, and when you had a prick who was probably a card-carrying member of the ACLU in the power seat, the politics were exactly ass-backwards. More concerned about criminals’ “rights” than about putting people who deserved it behind bars. More worried about following every last procedural rule than about getting the job done.

  One more thing to do. His day had been lousy anyway. He might as well hear that yet another schmuck couldn’t do their job. He sank into his desk chair and dialed.

  “Talk to me,” he said when the other man answered. “Give me good news.”

  “I don’t know if it’s good,” John Kervic said. “I found your family for you. Chambers.”

  Alan sat up straighter. “Oh, yeah? Where are they?”

  “Bonners Ferry.”

  All the way up by the Canadian border. Hicksville all the way.

  “Don and Sally Chambers,” Kervic said.

  “Address? Phone?”

  “Don’t have a phone for them. They’re at 204 Old Creek. Out in the boonies.”

  Alan jotted it down, feeling a whole lot better, then said, “All right. We’re getting close, because if Kayla didn’t run to Isabel’s, she ran somewhere. I know she had to have found somebody else to take care of her.
”

  “Doesn’t sound likely to me,” Kervic said. “Not to her in-laws’, not if she’s a tweaker. More likely to have run to another guy.”

  “No.” Alan’s knuckles shone white on the edge of the desk. “She didn’t do that.”

  “I know you don’t want to think so, but that’s usually what it is. No, that’s always what it is.”

  “You don’t tell me what it is. You don’t know shit. You just head up there and have a chat with them. Find out if she’s there, or if they know where she is. This is it. I can smell it.”

  “Oh, no.” It wasn’t a protest. It was certainty. “No jurisdiction, and no charges. They make one call, and I’d be nailed. I’ve stuck my neck out way too far already over the whole Sanchez thing.”

  “You put your neck in a noose way before that. You forgetting that little matter of misplaced evidence? A whole load of shit that didn’t make it into that locker? One word from me, and you go down.”

  “No. One word from me, and you do. Who else knew about that evidence? You did. I go down, I’m taking you with me. The slate’s clean between us. I gave you the info. You go up there and use it if you have to. But I’m not involved anymore.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No. I’m telling you that I’m done with this. It’s not looking good to me anymore, you tracking this chick down, staying on her like this. If something happens to her, or her kid—I’ve got kids myself, and I can’t be part of this, whatever it is.”

  “Now you’ve got scruples? You going to drop a dime?”

  “I’m not going to drop anything, as long as you do. But if you don’t—I’m not going to promise to shut up. I’ve got kids,” Kervic repeated. “And this whole thing stinks to me. Let her go.”

  “And if I don’t?” The words were quiet.

  “Then . . .” A sigh on the other end. “That’s when I tell you that I don’t do anything without taking precautions, not anymore.”

  “You’re telling me you’ve recorded me.”

  “I’m telling you I’ve taken precautions, and I’m done with this.”

  GHOSTS

  Kayla had spent another couple Saturday nights on the couch with Luke, had had a couple more delicious make-out sessions with him outside her front door afterwards. Murmurs and touches and slow, soft kisses; and Luke holding back, not pushing her. He’d taken to stopping at The Breakfast Spot a few mornings a week, too, and it was all good, all sweet and warm and so sexy. Until it got complicated again.

  He’d brought her and Eli out to his parents’ for Sunday dinner when it started.

  “So what are you going to be for Halloween, Eli?” Raylene asked, holding the bowl of mashed potatoes for him. “Only a week to go now.”

  He dished a good spoonful onto his plate. “I don’t know.”

  Shoot, Kayla thought with the familiar stab of guilt. Halloween. She’d completely forgotten about it. Eli hadn’t said anything, and she knew why.

  “You are going trick-or-treating, aren’t you?” Raylene asked. “It’s a pretty big deal for the kids in Paradise.”

  “My friend Cody said I could go with him and his brother,” Eli said. “And that maybe I could spend the night.”

  “Well, that’s exciting,” Raylene said. “That’ll be fun, to spend the night with a new friend.”

  “What’s the big costume these days?” Cal asked.

  Eli shrugged. “I guess . . . some guys are going to be Army Rangers.”

  “That your plan?” Cal asked. “Army Ranger? That’s cool.”

  “Pretty violent,” his mother said.

  All the men rolled their eyes at that one. “Yeah, well,” Cal said, “that’s more or less the point.”

  “No.” Eli was poking at his potatoes now, digging a trough and watching the gravy spill down it. “I’ll probably just be a ghost, I guess.”

  Cal groaned. “A ghost? No, dude. That’s lame. That’s the I-can’t-think-of-a-costume costume. You can do better than that. What were you last year?”

  “Ghost.” Eli’s voice was barely audible, and he wasn’t looking up. The tips of his ears were red, and Kayla knew what he was feeling. She knew exactly. Shame.

  “Well, a ghost is a fine costume,” Raylene said. “That’s the original idea of Halloween, after all.”

  “You get just as much candy any way you dress up,” Zoe put in. “Isn’t that right, Eli?”

  Another shrug, barely a lift of the shoulder. “I guess.”

  “He didn’t trick-or-treat last year.” Kayla had to say something. “Because we were living in our car for a little while. It wasn’t safe for Eli to wander around at night where we were, and the car wasn’t actually drivable, so that was that. He wore a ghost costume to school, and he didn’t trick-or-treat. We didn’t have a very good Halloween, but that was last year. This year, like he said, he’s going. And he’s going to have a costume. Whatever he wants.”

  A moment of silence, and then Eli said, “I can be a ghost. A ghost is good. I don’t mind,” and Kayla had to close her eyes for a moment.

  “How about a ninja?” Luke asked after a beat. “It’s not an Army Ranger, but ninjas are cool, right?”

  “Yeah,” Eli said doubtfully. “I think the costume’s pretty expensive, though.”

  “Nah,” Luke said. “You don’t want to wear the same old thing every other kid has, some flimsy one-piece deal off the rack from the basement in Hawkins Drugs. Where’s the fun in that? All you’d need is a long-sleeved black shirt, and I’ve got one of those.”

  “Too big.” Zoe said. “He’s supposed to look like a cool, stealthy ninja, ready to do some covert action, not like he’s wearing a dress.”

  Eli smiled at that, and Kayla was breathing again.

  “I’ve got a black T-shirt that would work, though,” Zoe went on. “And black sweats, too. And as we all know, I’m short, so that’s perfect.”

  “You don’t even have to give them back,” Cal said. “We’ll donate them.”

  “Excuse me?” She turned to him with a mock glare. “Whose clothes are they?”

  “Yours,” he said, dishing himself up another serving of chicken. “Unfortunately. That’s my point.”

  “Black scarf,” Luke’s mom said. “For a belt. I’ve got one of those.”

  Eli was starting to look excited, and Kayla felt a surge of gratitude to this family that had reached out exactly as if she and Eli really did belong to them.

  “Maybe we could get a mask?” Eli asked. “Like a hood?”

  He was looking at her, but Luke was the one who answered. “Mask and sword. Got to have a sword to be a ninja. I’ll bet I can come up with those. Bound to be able to borrow them from somebody. I know a lot of boys. And there you go. See how easy that was? Unless you really would rather be a ghost. But I think this would be cooler.”

  “Yeah,” Eli said. “It would be pretty awesome to be a ninja.”

  “Stealthy,” Luke said. “Powerful. Dangerous to the bad guys.”

  “Yeah,” Eli said with satisfaction. That would be cool.”

  Kayla was up, down, all over the place. Too much to cope with. She was quiet during the rest of dinner, and on the fifteen-minute drive back to town, too, and she could tell Luke noticed.

  “So is this the first sleepover in Paradise?” Luke asked Eli. “Your Halloween adventure?”

  “Yeah,” Eli said.

  “So it’ll be your first night alone, too, Kayla.”

  “Yes. First time.”

  “I don’t have to stay overnight, Mom,” Eli said. “If it’s scary for you.”

  She reached out and smoothed his hair. “No, sweetie. Of course not. I’ll be fine.”

  Well, maybe not, but he didn’t have to know that.

  When Luke pulled to the curb in front of her building, she drew in a breath. Th
e exterior light on her side was out, and the darkness lay in shadowy pools around that end of the building.

  “When did that happen?” Luke asked. “The light? I don’t remember that from last night.”

  “I don’t know,” she managed to say.

  “Huh. I’ll go with you and check it out, how’s that?”

  “It’s fine.” She reached for the door handle at last. “It’s just a burned-out light. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “I’m sure it is. But I’ll go with you anyway.” He reached under the seat and pulled out a heavy flashlight, then led the way up the uneven concrete walk in the chilly dark, and she followed behind, one arm around Eli.

  He got to her doorway and stopped, sweeping the light into the bushes at the side of the building. Nothing.

  Nothing wrong with the door, either, as far as she could see. He switched the light to the other hand and unlocked the door, then shoved it open, reached around, fumbled for the light, and flipped it on.

  The living room was empty.

  Kayla was still standing outside with Eli. Scared to go inside, but more scared to stay where she was. The hair had risen on the back of her neck from the moment they’d seen the darkness where the light should have been. A real awareness of danger, or the same old paralyzing fear, she couldn’t tell which.

  “Just a burned-out light,” Luke said when she came inside with Eli, locking the door behind them after a moment’s hesitation. They’d be trapped inside, but the danger outside felt greater.

  “Would you check the bedroom?” she asked. “Just in case?”

  “Sure.” He turned off the flashlight, but kept it in his hand while he walked on through. In one quick movement, he’d pushed the half-open door all the way against the wall and reached for the light switch.

  Nothing.

  He went across to the bathroom, got an edge of the shower curtain in his fist, and yanked it back fast, revealing their rust-stained bathtub.