by Freya Barker
“Sit, Pixie.”
So I do. I sit down clasping my hands in my lap, because despite the fact I’ve asked for what is coming, I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. Ben sits down beside me, looking at me, and I know he’s waiting for me.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
In his deep, raspy voice, he lays out the parts of the past few days I was in the dark on. The video, with Ben’s assurances it wasn’t his hairy ass featured. Then he tells me about the violent attack on the couple he had visited in Durango—Jahnee’s parents.
I have to swallow hard when he informs me the man did not survive, and her mother just barely. My heart aches for that woman, already dying of cancer, only to have your own flesh and blood turn violent against you. The irony is bitter. I can only hope her suffering won’t be long and that she may still find some peace in death.
Finally he fills me in on both the official findings of arson and the measures put in place for our—or rather, my—safety.
“Are you sure it was her?” I ask, but then I shake my head. I know better. Deep in my gut, I know. “Never mind that.” I hold up my hand when Ben starts to answer. “That was supposed to be me.”
“Don’t go there, Isla,” Ben cuts me off. “If you’re trying to take responsibility, you’re gonna have to get in line.” He cups my face in his big hands. “Trust me on that.” I try to read his eyes and see nothing but sincerity there.
It makes me feel only marginally better, but there’s part of me that wonders if I maybe should’ve known about the video before. I can’t help think that, as a woman, I might’ve seen the aggression in that, whereas the men likely waved it off as only an annoyance.
“So what now?” I want to know.
“Now we’re going to lay low. There’s a chance she thinks she’s accomplished what she wanted and will try to connect with me at some point. I’d like to keep her thinking she was successful, which means keeping you out of sight, just in case she’s watching.”
“What the hell does she think is going to happen? That she can just walk up to you and you’ll declare your undying love for her?” I snap, suddenly angry at the situation.
“I don’t know, it’s hard to try out what someone, who’s clearly out of their mind, is thinking, but I promise you that everything is being done to locate her before we find out.” Ben tries to soothe me, but I’m still bristling. “Neil’s boss, Gus, that’s the guy from the hospital last night, is technically working for the FBI on this. It helps that both Damian, and Gus, have strong ties to local law enforcement.”
“And Neil this morning?”
“Alarm system. He took some measurements and is coming back this afternoon to install it.”
I slump my shoulders. Here I was, thinking this would be our haven, our sanctuary, and instead it sounds like it’s becoming our prison. Ben drapes his arm around my shoulders and tugs me close.
“I need to know you and Mak are safe when I’m not here.”
“What about you? What about you being safe? Or Stacie? Have you thought about that?”
“There’s extra security at the hospital. Stacie is taken care of. As for me, she’s not out to hurt me—she’s out to have me.”
I look up at the most beautiful, gruff-looking face, with the warmest, ice blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“I know,” I confirm with a calm I don’t feel. “That’s what scares me.”
-
“When can I see Mom?”
I look up from my computer, where I’m playing around with some edits.
“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” I tell Mak honestly.
She’s been so patient all morning, with just a minimal explanation as to why we were stuck inside. Thank God for Netflix and family movies. I just don’t know what to tell her. The guys, Neil, Ben, and my uncle, are all outside laying out something called a perimeter protection system. Not sure what it is, but it’s supposed to alert us to anyone coming within fifty yards of the house.
“Want to help me put some dinner together? Maybe when your uncle comes in, he can give you a better answer.”
I know Ben ended up telling Mak a little. Just that there is a person out there who is out to hurt the people he loves, and that is why we have to stay inside. She seemed to take it in stride and allowed me to distract her with the big screen TV for a little.
Atsa had passed up on being Mak’s shadow the moment the guys went outside. He’s been out all afternoon as well after Uncle Al picked him up from Jen’s.
“Okay,” Mak says, getting up from the couch and following me into the kitchen. “But can we make tacos? It’s Tuesday.” I grin at her poor attempt at an innocent look.
“We’re gonna have to make our own tortillas though, because I don’t have any ready-made.”
“You know how?”
“Sure do. It’s pretty easy, I’ll show you.”
That’s how we stay busy, and distracted, the next hour and a half until we hear the front door open.
“Whatever you’re cooking, I’m staying for dinner,” Neil says, the first to walk into the kitchen, with a big smile on his face.
“We’ve got enough,” Mak says, a little blush on her cheeks from hanging over the stove, or maybe not. It would appear Neil’s charm works on any age.
“Did you cook?” he asks her, and she eagerly nods her head. “Well, in that case, sign me up for a double serving.”
“Must you flirt with everything that sports twin x-chromosomes?” Ben walks in, shaking his head at Neil.
“Actually,” he answers, with his index finger up. “Interesting bit of trivia for you; did you know there are men with two x-chromosomes and women with a y-chromosome?”
I chuckle as I watch Mak’s eyes grow big and bounce between the two men.
“I don’t even want to know,” Ben says, raising his hands. “All I know is I need you to back away from my niece.”
Ben
It’s the look in Mak’s eyes that has me fold.
We’ve just finished eating when she hits me with the request to see her mother. Although I’m able to tell her Stacie seems to be stable, as per my last call to the hospital, I can see it’s not enough.
“Okay, honey,” I give in. “I’ll see what I can do.”
It takes a bit of logistic maneuvering, but in the end Neil offers to stay with Al and Isla, when I bundle Mak in the Toyota. She’s uncommonly quiet during the drive, and normally I’d welcome the lack of chatter, but at this time it just makes me uncomfortable.
“What’s going through your head, girl?” I finally ask her. I quickly glance over at her profile and notice her lip is quivering. “Honey? You can tell me.”
“What will she look like?” The quiver sounds through in her voice, and now I’m questioning whether this was a good idea.
I swerve off the road, stop on the shoulder, and put the car in park. Turning my body toward her, I reach out and brush at the single tear running down her cheek.
“I know she’ll have to grow back that pretty hair of hers,” I start carefully. “And she’ll probably have a lot of bandages and maybe even some wires and tubes coming from her body, but the thing you need to remember is that underneath all that, it’s still your mom. Her outside may not look the same but, baby, I promise you, the size of her heart, the light in her soul, and most importantly, her love for you have not changed. Not even a bit.”
“Promise?” Her chin wobbles even harder, and I wrap both arms around her, tucking her head under my chin.
“Cross my heart, Makenna. Cross my heart.”
-
“Sorry, sir, there’s no kids allowed in the ICU.”
I glare at the gray-haired nurse at the desk, but her gaze doesn’t falter, and I know I’m in for a battle.
“What do you mean there’s no kids allowed in ICU? This is her mother, you can’t be telling me she can’t see her only parent?”
“Sir,” the old hag hisses, as she leans closer. “The ICU is no place for children, besi
des, her mother is not exactly looking her best.” She tries, but fails miserably, to keep her volume low so Mak, who’s standing by my side, won’t hear. I take in a deep breath, attempting not to lose my temper in front of my niece, before I answer.
“You’re absolutely right, it is no place for children. Problem is, her mother is in there, which makes it the absolute right place for my niece to be. Secondly, if you think for one second that her imagination is not far worse than the reality of what her mother might look like, you are delusional.”
In the end, I failed as well. My voice clearly had raised enough to draw the attention of the doctor, who’d been in the operating room with Stacie yesterday.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asks, walking up to the desk, with a gentle smile for Mak and a stern look to me, before she turns her attention to the nurse. “Carol?”
“I’m trying to explain no kids are allowed in the ICU.”
“I’m afraid that’s true,” the doctor says with an apologetic smile, before dropping her eyes to Mak, who is burrowing into my side. Then she leans over the counter and says to the nurse, under her breath, “I’m afraid Mr. Sparrow in room 302 has soiled himself. Could you please...?”
Carol takes in a sharp breath, flicks her eyes back and forth between me and the other woman, and finally with a big huff, gets up and stomps down the hall.
“Better come with me, quick,” the doctor holds out a hand to Mak. “Let’s go see your mom before the gatekeeper gets back.”
Mak looks at me and I give her a little nod, before she accepts the hand offered.
-
“Thank you,” I mouth to the doctor when she moves to the door. She took her time to explain to Mak exactly what all the beeping machines, tubes, and hoses were for. It helped her get over her first shock of seeing Stacie, or what is supposed to be Stacie, lying in that bed.
There’s little recognizable, between the bandages and the swelling.
“You’re right, Uncle Ben,” Mak suddenly says, standing beside Stacie’s bed, running her fingers over the hand that is not covered in wrappings. “Look.”
She carefully turns her mother’s hand over and points to the little four-leaf clover my sister had tattooed on the inside of her wrist, in her college days.
My eyes burn when Mak leans over and gently kisses the only recognizable part of her mother.
That stupid little clover.
CHAPTER 26
Isla
“Are you awake?”
“I am now,” I groan into my pillow as Ben’s hand slides down between my legs.
I’m rolled halfway on my stomach, and his warm body is pressing up against me from behind, his deft fingers quickly finding my softening core.
“Need inside you, Pixie.” The low rasp of his voice and the feeling of his thick erection against my ass, triggers an involuntary shudder to run through my body, leaving my nipples instantly alert. With only the rough pad of his finger dragging over my clit, I throw my head back against his shoulder and moan deeply as the slow burn of a lazy orgasm washes over me.
My body had clearly been ready for his touch after a long week of sharing our bed with Mak.
Last night was the first time, since the explosion, Mak didn’t ask to sleep with us. Ben and I had exchanged a look, but we didn’t say a thing when she walked into what had been her mother’s room and crawled into her bed.
“I miss her smell,” was the only thing Mak had said in explanation as she burrowed under the covers. When we checked on her a few hours after, on our way to bed, she’d been fast asleep. Still, we left the door open so we could hear her during the night.
A quick glance tells me our bedroom door is now firmly shut; Ben must’ve closed it at some point.
“You ready for me, baby?”
Instead of answering him, I roll on my back and pull my sleep shirt up and over my head. Right away, he repositions, dropping his hips in the cradle of mine.
My eyes focus on his face hovering over me. The still sleep-swollen eyes. The creases in his brow and along his nose and mouth. The strong, slightly parted lips. An interesting face, an arresting face, even, but what makes it truly beautiful is the expression on it when he looks at me. My hand reaches up to scrape along his scruffy jaw.
“Gonna love you now, Isla,” he warns me with his lips almost touching mine. I can taste the mint of toothpaste on his breath and briefly worry about my own. Ben, clearly unconcerned, cuts off any possible protest by slipping his tongue in my mouth at the same time his cock finds my entrance and powers deep. He drowns my loud groan with his kiss.
-
“The old woman died?”
Ben is pacing back and forth down the hallway, and I’m in the great room, trying hard to distract Mak from his telephone conversation, but it’s not easy. Her head pops up and she zooms in on her uncle at those words. I see him wince when he spots her looking, and he throws me an apologetic glance before disappearing into our bedroom.
The house is not small, but under these circumstances, it’s starting to feel even more confined than living in the trailer did. It’s not just the four of us either; it’s Neil, Damian, Gus and most of the other guys I’ve come to know over the past week, who could drop in at any time.
We’re all getting frustrated. Snappy and irritable at being cooped up day after day. Even with a large contingent of law enforcement looking for her, they haven’t been able to come up with a thing.
I know I’ve snapped at both Ben and Uncle Al enough, and this morning I even snapped at poor Mak. She came running from the bedroom, Atsa of course right behind her, and the two of them barreled into me. I was just coming out of the laundry room with yet another load of laundry, freshly washed and folded, and dropped the basket on impact. Clothes and towels all over the damn floor, which I hadn’t mopped in days, because with all the feet tracking through it, why bother. I made her cry, only to promptly burst into tears myself.
“What old woman?” Mak asks softly.
“I think they’re talking about someone your uncle met, who was very ill, but I can’t be sure.”
She doesn’t ask more, just nods and dives back into the computer game I downloaded for her on my laptop. I get up off the couch and join my uncle in the kitchen.
“Something’s gotta give,” I hiss at him on my way to the coffee pot.
“One of the hardest parts of the job—this was. The waiting, not being able to actively do something, anything, to help things along. Racking your brain to try and figure out what you might be missing. It consumes you.” His arm catches me around the neck when I try to move past him, and he gives me a quick hug. “Patience, my girl. You think it’s bad for you? It’s nothing compared what your man is dealing with. He’s so torn; I’m starting to see the cracks on the outside. He’s got some crazy chick from his past, who almost killed his sister, and is targeting his woman. He wants to be there for Stacie, but he’s afraid to leave you for too long. And more than anything, he wants to chase down that bitch, so everyone can breathe again.” He grabs my shoulders and gives me a light shake. “But he can’t do any of that. Not until something breaks, and something will, I promise you that. In the meantime, you’re going to have to reel it in. Whatever you need to do to relieve some of that pressure building on him, do it. I love you, my girl, and you know it, but that man is feeling nothin’ but guilt right now in every damn direction, and you’re only adding to it.”
I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt more ashamed. I barely manage a nod when my uncle finally releases his hold on my shoulders. I literally slink out of the kitchen, straight down the hall and into the bedroom. That’s where I find Ben, lying on his back on the bed, his arm flung over his eyes, and his phone still in his hand. He doesn’t even move when I crawl up on the bed and wrap myself around him. The only acknowledgement is his free arm sneaking around my body and pulling me in even tighter.
“Love you, Ben.” My voice is muffled by his sweater.
“Me to
o, Pixie. Me too,” he says, but his voice sounds exhausted, so I lift my head. His eyes peek out from under his arm and I smile.
“Talk to me.”
Ben
Talk to me.
Easier said then done.
The death of Dorothy Banks weighs heavily on me. It feels like another on a growing list of strikes against me on the balance sheet. I don’t blame her. She was already dying, but then to have to watch your husband die, and at the hands of your own flesh and blood, would be too much. Her death, so shortly after the attack, is perhaps a blessing. What do I know?
“Her last memories before she died will be the most horrific ones a parent can experience,” I start, watching as understanding dawns in Isla’s gaze. “I know I wasn’t the one beating her or her husband to a pulp, but I might as well have been. This woman is like a guided missile, and anywhere I turn, anyone I touch, just becomes another target. The fucking irony is, I’m one who launched it.”
“I’m sorry,” she mutters and I’m glad she’s not telling me it’s not my fault. I don’t think I could hear that right now, because I fucking need someone to blame, and I’m the most likely candidate.
“We can’t find her, Isla. Every day is another damn dead end and it would be so easy to get lulled into thinking that she’s gone to ground permanently, but that would be stupid.” I blow out a deep breath before I continue. “They found her car in the parking lot at the Ute Mountain Casino in Towaoc, just south of Cortez, yesterday morning, but no trace of her. She wasn’t in the casino, isn’t staying at any hotels, and no one’s seen her. Damian is checking with Cortez Cab, who runs shuttle taxis from the casino, to see if they picked anyone up there in the past couple of days who fits her description, but I’m not holding my breath. For all we know, she’s long gone, but the kicker is we can’t be sure.”
“No she isn’t,” Isla counters firmly, surprising me. “She’s not gone. Why would she be? From the start, she’s had one goal and that hasn’t been met yet. Nothing she does is rational, but it doesn’t mean she’s stupid, just that she’s unpredictable.” She swings her legs off the edge of the bed and sits up, letting her eyes drift to the window. I can see the wheels turning. “I think she’s not that far, keeping an eye on her objective—you. Probably thinking she cleared the way by getting rid of me, and is waiting for the right time to lay claim to you. She’s not in a rush, she’s been waiting for over a decade.” She smiles a little when she turns to face me. “You guys are looking for a hardened criminal, when you should be looking for a jealous and possessive—not to mention bat-shit crazy—woman.”