She checked every room before she settled down on the sofa. At some point, she would have to go to work and beg Greta to let her keep her job. For now, though she was enjoying the quiet.
It didn’t last. The phone shrilled.
“Hello?”
“Is that Miss Murphy?” a woman asked.
“Yes, this is she.”
“I’m calling from Pine Hills. Could you please come down here?”
“Is something wrong with my mother?”
“No, she’s fine. It would be better if you could come here so we can explain.”
She took a cab to the institute. When she arrived two police officers, a man and a woman met her.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about. Your mother is fine,” the woman reassured her.
“I want to see her.”
She was taken into the day room where her mother was watching TV. She was wearing a bathrobe and seemed calm enough.
“Come with us,” the police officer said.
Once they were seated in the visitor room, the woman police officer said, “Last night we arrested a man who confessed to killing your step father.”
“What? It’s been over ten years why would someone come forward now?”
“He claimed to have an attack of conscious. He knew things about the crime scene, the weapon used.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means your mother won’t be returning to prison.”
“Really?” she exclaimed.
“She will however need to stay here for psychiatric evaluation.”
Mackenzie nodded, “I understand. Does she know?”
“She’s been told but I don’t think she fully understood what we were telling her.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
She went back into the day room and sat down beside her mother.
“Mom?”
“Hey honey, have you seen this film? It’s so funny,” she said, her eyes never leaving the screen.
“Mom, I was talking to the police and they said that you don’t have to go back to prison.”
She burst into hysterical laughter at the TV.
“Mom.”
She finally looked at her.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, of course I did honey. Are you staying for supper? Its mac and cheese tonight. That was always your favorite,” she replied. She turned back to the TV.
Mackenzie sighed. She assumed some part of her understood what was going on. One thing was sure, the man who had claimed responsibility didn’t have an attack of conscious. It had to be Taryn.
Leaving the institute, she returned to the Blue Moon club. Greta was at her table. She waved her men away, motioning for Mackenzie to take a seat.
“You missed three shifts. Under normal circumstances that would be grounds for dismissal. You better have a good excuse,” she said, coolly.
“You know, the usual story, found my long lost father, only to find out he was a complete and utter prick right before he died in my arms, killed by a guy I thought liked me, but he was just trying to kill me,” she said, before bursting into tears.
Greta had no response to that, strangely enough.
Mackenzie tried to compose herself; she didn’t want Greta seeing her like this.
Greta sighed, “I need someone in to cover the seven o’clock shift. Do you think you can pull yourself together by then?”
Mackenzie nodded, “Yes, thank you.”
Greta left the table. Mackenzie headed into the bathroom to clean herself up.
The bar was packed that night and she was rushed off her feet for most of it. As she was mixing a cocktail together, she got the sensation that someone was watching her.
She turned to find Taryn sitting at the bar. She finished the drink and brought him a beer.
“Thought I’d never see you again.”
“Yeah, well I just found out that my father has put a bounty on my head for Lucien’s murder. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”
He shrugged and drank his beer.
“Was it you who got my mother acquitted?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, looking down at his drink.
“Thank you,” she said.
“A deal’s a deal. Give me a whiskey to go with this.”
She put one up in front of him, “I didn’t exactly keep up my end of the bargain.”
“The end result was the same. That’s all that matters.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked again.
“Well, I was wondering if you could let me sleep on your sofa for a while?”
She considered it, “On one condition. Teach me to fight, properly. I don’t want to live in the demon world, but I want to know how to defend myself in future.”
“Okay.”
“Okay then.”
“Stop it,” he snapped.
“Stop what?” she asked.
He wasn’t looking at her, but staring into space.
“Taryn? You okay?” she waved a hand at him.
He blinked and looked at her, “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine. Was this the curse setting in? Lucien said it would kill him. If she could find out what it was, how the curse worked then maybe she could find a way to help him. After all, she owed him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S. K. Gregory is from Northern Ireland. She writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance novels. When she is not writing, she supports indie authors through her blog.
www.skgregory.com
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