by S. M. Shade
Zoe calls the waitress over to order some snacks. When she leaves, Leah says, “He was pretty messed up. You know about Frannie, don’t you?”
I didn’t know her name until now, but I nod. “Justus told me Jeremy’s last girlfriend died. I don’t know the story, but I know he was grieving. I’ve lost people, and I couldn’t hold any of that early stuff against him. Did you two know her well?”
Zoe guzzles the rest of her drink. “She was my best friend.”
Oh no. I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “I’m so sorry. Does it…bother you that I’m with him?”
A soft smile inches across her face. “No. Frannie would want Jeremy to be happy. And she’d be thrilled he settled down and has a family. He was a bit wild. They both were. They never could get their shit together, but I always hoped.” Her eyes glass over, and she stares into the distance for a moment. “She’d be happy for you both,” she adds.
Maybe I shouldn’t be fishing for information from his friends, but he’s told me so little. “Was it cancer or something? That took her?”
Zoe’s jaw tightens. “No, not cancer.”
Leah waits for our waitress to set our platter of chicken strips and cheese sticks on the table and leave before she continues, “She was murdered. Shot.”
“Oh my god. No wonder he was so devastated.” I lay my hand over Zoe’s arm, and she gives me a little smile. “I’m so sorry. I hope the guy is in jail.”
“He’s dead,” Zoe says, satisfaction clear in her voice.
“Good.”
“Do you remember last year when a mall got shot up in Indianapolis? It made national news so you probably saw it. Twenty-two people died. We were all there, inside. Frannie was the only one who got hit. She survived until we got out and to the hospital, but she’d lost too much blood to be saved.”
A numbing sensation starts at the top of my head and works its way down to my feet. My hands tremble, knocking my glass against the platter.
Dillon.
Dillon was one of those shooters.
The biological father of my baby killed Jeremy’s girlfriend.
He’s going to hate me. These women, who have done so much for me and Calvin, will despise me too. All the hope of being a part of this family was just destroyed. What man would want to raise the offspring of his girlfriend’s murderer?
“Melissa? Are you okay?” Leah asks.
“Shit, she looks pale,” Zoe says, shoving a glass of water my direction.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up while you already have so much on your mind,” Leah says.
Finding my voice, I take a deep breath and try to regain control. “It’s okay. I’m all right. I just haven’t had alcohol in a while. Guess I’m a lightweight now.” I force a smile and sip on the water.
Zoe shoves the platter toward me. “Eat something and you’ll feel better.”
They change the subject, and we spend the next hour laughing and chatting about our favorite music and TV shows. They tell me all about Sadie, Justus’s wife, and Ayda, Dare’s wife. “They have a little boy too. Calvin will have someone to play with when they get older,” Zoe says with a smile.
It’s so hard to grin back and agree. Once Jeremy finds out who I am and who Calvin belongs to, all this will crumble into nothing.
The dread in my stomach kills my appetite, and I only manage to nibble on the finger food, so Zoe insists we stop to grab some pizza for later. “You’ve got to eat and keep your strength up for Calvin,” she insists, and I can’t argue with that.
We tell our cab driver to stop at the nearest pizza place, and he pulls into the lot of a tiny pizzeria. “Uh, I’m not a fan of e-coli,” Zoe says.
“I eat here all the time,” the cab driver assures her. “It’s a hole in the wall, but they have the best pizza in town.” He grins at Zoe. “And it’s clean.”
“Come on Zo, live a little,” Leah laughs, climbing out of the car.
It’s not as small on the inside as it looks on the outside. The main dining room has the service counter at one end, and there’s an adjacent dining room through an arched doorway. We place our order, and Zoe and Leah head to the restroom. For once, I’m not the one who has to pee. It’s nice not to have that side effect of pregnancy anymore.
I wander around looking at the random memorabilia posted on the walls, until a familiar voice stops me in my tracks. “I feel the same way. Any attention we can draw is worth it,” Jeremy says, rounding the corner.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to call his name, but the sound dies in my throat, and I have to blink to convince myself I’m really seeing the man who walks beside him.
Anthony. Dillon’s brother, who “claimed me” after Dillon died in the mall shooting. The man who haunts my nightmares. The man I can never run far or fast enough from. What the hell is Jeremy doing with him?
Jeremy sees me and just barely manages to reign in his surprise and shutter his face. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” he says, and slides between me and a table, since I’m frozen in place, blocking the way.
Anthony doesn’t notice anything but me, and his lip curls up. “Hi there, Lissa. You’re looking well.”
Fear rages through me, and I take a step back. “Stay away from me.”
“No need to be rude.” His smile is greasy and malicious. “Kelly says hi. She’s been a great comfort to me in your absence.”
Jeremy is staring at me, wide eyed, trying to judge the situation. Anthony continues past me with a vicious whisper. “No one leaves, Lissa.”
With that, he walks out the door. Jeremy glances back with a worried expression before following him.
The pieces fall into place. Jeremy’s work, the work I’m not privy to. He’s trying to bring down the men who killed the girl he loved. That’s why he went from hating me to helping me. He knows. I don’t know how, but he knows who I am. Probably some hacker bullshit I’d never understand. It doesn’t matter.
He’s not here for me. He’s here for them. In the end, I’ll be right where I expected to be in the beginning. Raising my son alone.
God, Zoe and Leah must know too. Are they here just to keep me out of the way while In Safe Hands brings down True Life? And what exactly are they planning to do? He told me they’ve killed in the past. Are they planning to wipe them all out?
My sister is still there.
I don’t know what to do or who to trust.
Zoe and Leah return. We pay for our pizza, and head home. They leave me when I convince them that I just want to go to bed, and head next door to be with their guys. I know Jeremy is coming tonight, and I have no idea what to do.
If I push all the personal stuff between Jeremy and me aside, and I’m right in my conclusions, then we probably share a desire to shut down True Life. If that’s his plan, I have no intention of interfering, as long as he isn’t going to hurt the members.
Part of me is sure I was just being used, since this is just too big to be a coincidence, but now that I’m lying on the couch in the quiet dark, where I can organize my thoughts, that doesn’t make much sense. He’s never asked me anything about my past, never pressed for any kind of information.
Oh god. What if I’m way off and he’s working for True Life? What if all the In Safe Hands stuff is bullshit and he’s just monitoring me and the baby for Anthony. Anthony is Calvin’s uncle, after all. I’m sure he’d love to get his hands on him.
Maybe Frannie isn’t even real and it’s just a cover story they were meant to tell if I asked too many questions.
A quick Google search puts that theory to rest. A woman named Frannie died in the shooting. A little deeper of a search even shows me pictures of her with Zoe on a social network. They were her friends.
I’m relieved to find he’s not here to bring me back to True Life, but it doesn’t mean everything isn’t going to change.
The front door clicks when Jeremy opens it. That’s it. Everything comes out tonight. No more secrets. On either side.
#
Jeremy takes a seat on the couch, anxiety clearly written on his face. He sighs when I move to the chair across from him. I’m not trying to be petty. I just need a bit of distance and to see his eyes when he answers my questions, especially when he finds out who Calvin’s birth father is, if he doesn’t already know.
Before he can say anything, I begin, “We obviously both have shit we need to tell each other. I owe you the truth, and I’m asking for the same, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Did you know I was an ex True Life follower? Is that why you formed a relationship with me?” I ask, getting the worst out of the way first.
He leans forward, looking me in the eye. “No. I didn’t know until I saw the tattoo on your ass at the hospital. I’m not going to lie. I researched you when I thought you were carrying my baby. I knew you were off the grid for years, that your only surviving family is a sister, and that you were a successful artist. That was it.” He sits back. “Why didn’t you tell me what you’d been through?”
My laugh is soaked in self-deprecation. “Joining a cult doesn’t exactly make me look bright, does it? I was already the single, knocked up woman living alone. I didn’t want to look stupid as well as pathetic.”
He sighs and rubs his cheek, the raspy sound of his palm on whiskers filling the room. “You aren’t either of those things. It’s not your fault, Mel. I would never judge—”
“You don’t know that,” I interrupt. “It was absolutely my fault. I chose to join them, and I stayed once I saw the type of people they were. Because I thought he loved me, and because my sister was happy there too. We had no one else and we didn’t want to be alone in the world.” My chest rises on a deep breath while I try to keep my emotions under control. “It was a choice. A stupid, naïve choice.”
“Made when you were what, nineteen?”
“Eighteen. Kelly was twenty. She was the one with doubts at first, but once we moved in, she was happy. Things were different in the beginning. The place was more like an old hippie commune. All these people living and working together to make the earth a better place. Eventually, the guys wanted more and more power, started calling themselves The First Men, insisted they handle all of our financials and that we destroy any links to the outside world.” I shake my head. “It was just a way to get us to dispose of any identification. Without that and our money, we were trapped.”
He blinks, and his head jerks back a tiny bit at the sound of my sister’s name, so I’m not surprised at his next question. “Your sister is named Kelly, and she’s still a member?”
“You’ve met her?”
His head bobs with reluctance. “Yeah, she’s still there.”
“I know. I saw her not too long ago and tried to get her to come and live with me, but she’s brainwashed. She believes everything they say. What were you doing with Anthony, Jeremy?”
His chest raises and falls on a deep sigh. “I told you what I do for a living.”
“Yes, but they aren’t child predators.”
“They killed my ex-girlfriend. I moved here to destroy them.”
It’s clear he thought he was dropping a bomb on me and his brow furrows when I don’t react. “I knew about your ex, but not about how she died until tonight. I didn’t realize who she was or that.” My voice cracks, and I pause. This is so fucking hard to say. “Or that the father of my son was one of the men who killed her.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jeremy
Her words slam into me, stealing my breath and making the room waver. My lungs scream for air, so I get to my feet and stumble outside. Bitterly cold air rushes over my skin, but it could be a warm bath for all the difference it makes to me. I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything but shock and pain.
I thought it was likely Calvin’s father was one of the First Men, or one of the younger guys living in the trailers, but it never occurred to me he could’ve been one of the gunmen. What would Frannie think if she knew I planned to raise the child of the man who killed her? Would she hate me? Would she understand? And the most important question.
Would I have signed that birth certificate if I knew?
I don’t have to think about that one. The answer is yes. Because the baby isn’t the problem. I’m nothing like my cold, distant parents, and I have their blood. Blood doesn’t mean anything. Love does. And I love that tiny, squirmy little human more than I ever thought I could love anything.
He belongs to me, not that monster.
My heart finds a normal rhythm again, and I realize how my reaction must’ve affected Melissa. I don’t believe she had anything to do with the shooting. I’ve seen how little control the women of True Life have over their lives. And they aren’t privy to any information about shit like that, so I can’t imagine she knew what they were planning. But I need to hear it from her. I love the fuck out of her, but if she knowingly let twenty-two people die for her cult…I can’t even think about it without bile rising in my throat.
When I walk back in, she’s moved to the couch. She hears me and sits up straight, wiping her eyes. Her shoulders are squared, her chin lifted. I recognize the stance from fighting my own battles. She’s prepared to hear the worst, and to keep control while she bears it.
My voice doesn’t sound like my own, as if I’ve been gargling gravel when I ask. “Did you know what they were planning? Was there any way you could’ve prevented it?”
The room is so quiet I can hear the soft puh sound her lips make as they part. “No, I didn’t know anything until the day after it happened. We weren’t allowed any outside media. I knew something was up because Anthony was on a tear, drinking and screaming, scaring the kids. I told one of the other guys I was going to run after some tampons—none of them would want that chore—and went to the library.
“I had heard Anthony yelling about SWAT and about a den of excess, which was how he always referred to shopping centers. It didn’t take me a few minutes to find out what they did. I ran outside and threw up. They treated us badly, the women, but I never suspected they were capable of a massacre like that. All they ever preached was how we had to spread the word about working together.”
Her tear-filled eyes plead with me to believe her. “They never made a threat to anyone outside the cult. Only us. Only that we couldn’t leave.”
I slide my hand into hers, and my voice softens. “Or what?”
“They didn’t say, exactly. Just ‘no one leaves’.”
“They knew you’d fill in the most terrifying consequences you could imagine.”
Sniffing, she sits back and pulls her knees to her chest. “Well, it worked. They chose people who had no family or who were estranged from them. And by the time anyone would realize they wanted out, they were broke, and had no identification. How do you run from a group of people when you can’t even feed yourself?”
“How did you escape?”
“They didn’t know I had money or a driver’s license. I had an old state I.D card I handed over, then I buried my driver’s license and debit card.”
“You never considered calling the cops?”
Melissa shakes her head. “I don’t know how long you’ve been investigating them, but there’s an officer who belongs. Officer Henreid. He’s recruited a few women. He made it clear we all came there voluntarily, handed over everything voluntarily, and there was no crime in that. Also, we used to grow pot up on the back hill. He showed us a newspaper article where a guy got one year in prison for every plant, and cautioned us if we ever thought about reporting a crime to the police instead of the First Men, we’d all spend the rest of our lives in prison.”
She looks me in the eye. “If I could go back knowing what I know now, I’d do things so differently. I’d run earlier, go to the cops, tell them all I could. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know they were going to hurt anyone.”
I sit beside her and pull her into my arms. “I believe you.”
“I’m so sorry. I was stupid. Even once they st
arted all that First Men bullshit, I didn’t mind because Dillon was one of them, and he said he loved me. And most of the time he acted like it. It wasn’t until Kelly fell out of favor with them because she wouldn’t fuck Maxwell—another of the First Men who did the shooting—that we bumped heads.
“They sent her from the big house down to live in the trailers with the newbies, where there was no power. Her food was so limited I used to sneak her more until Dillon caught me. He…punished me. It was the first time I tried to talk Kelly into running, but she was so afraid. So conditioned by them.”
The vein on my temple thumps as I ask, “How did he punish you?”
She hides her face in me, and my anger grows. She’s ashamed which means this is going to get bad really fast.
“Baby, you never have to tell another soul after this, and I’ll take it to my grave. Whatever he did should be his shame to carry, not yours.”
“He loaned me to Anthony. Said he could fuck some obedience into me. When I wouldn’t do it, they tied me to a bed, and took turns.” The last few words come out in a broken sob. “They laughed and said brothers always share.”
My body trembles with restrained rage as I try to contain it. The last thing she needs is for me to frighten her. “They’re brothers.”
“Yes. The day after Dillon’s death, Anthony told me I belonged to him. Less than a day later, I ran.”
I hug her tighter. “Mel, is there any chance the baby is Anthony’s?”
Her voice is a bit muffled by my shirt, but I can make out the words. “No, the night they tied me to the bed was a month before I ran. I knew I was going to, but I was waiting for a good moment, and trying to convince Kelly to come with me. Calvin was Dillon’s. He forced me again the night before they left for Indianapolis.”
We both fall quiet for a while, as I try to reign in the rage that wants me to go beat that motherfucker Anthony until he’s way past dead. He raped Melissa. No wonder she was so terrified when she saw him in that pizza place. I assumed it was because she left, and he was a leader. Not this.