by Freya Barker
"That's great, sweetie." I say, glad for the simple things we can do to make her life a happy one. Makes you take a really hard look at your own perceived crosses to bear. Sobering, really. Between Faith and Seb, they are teaching me a lot about happiness. About finding it. Everywhere. And very little is needed, I'm discovering. Once you open yourself to the possibility, it seems to be there for the taking.
Once home, and very grateful for the temporary ramp Seb put up last week, I get Faith inside and ask her what she would like to do.
"Can we bake something?"
"Sure, honey. What were you thinking?" I mentally go through my the fridge and pantry, knowing that Seb probably has kept it well-stocked. I've hardly been in my own kitchen in the last few weeks since Seb has been with me. I certainly can't compete with his cooking skills, but I'm sure I can whip up something to bake with Faith.
"Can we make pancakes for dinner?"
"Pancakes for dinner? Isn't that a breakfast food?" I tease her.
"Well, someone told me that today was 'breakfast for dinner' day at the Vista, and that made me think of pancakes, 'cause they are my favorites."
"Let me see what we have, but I'm sure we can fix up some 'breakfast for dinner' for us. Maybe we'll make an omelet and some bacon too? For your brother, when he gets back?"
"Mmmm'kay."
"First I have to clean up a bit. I'm still dusty and dirty from working at the diner. Do you want to watch a show, while I have a quick shower?"
I have her installed in front of some Full House re-runs she seems to love and take my tired ass up the stairs, pulling clothes off as I go. I feel gross, having spent the day hauling stuff back and forth, yanking open boxes and digging through them, helping sand down some patchwork on the walls. There is an entire mold of the inside of my nose forming in my nostrils. Yuck.
Checking at the top of the stairs one last time while the shower is heating up, I can hear her laughing along with the canned laughter from the show. Quickly I hop under the hot stream and let the water pound the fatigue from my muscles and the dirt from my hair and skin.
Lots cleaner and feeling much better, I dry off as I walk into the bedroom and pull some underwear and sweats on. Comfort clothing and warm. It's chilly out.
I stop at the top of the stairs to listen, but can't hear a thing.
"Faith?"
No answer. I hear nothing, even the television is quiet. The hair on my skin stands on end as I make my way down the stairs.
It's been a frustrating day, going in and out of a number of kitchen supply stores, very few of which have the type of industrial-sized equipment that I am in need of. Almost resigned to the idea of having to drive all the way to Grand Junction to find the right appliances, or concede and buy everything online, I hit the final store on my list. Bingo. This place seems to have an entire warehouse in the back with restaurant supplies.
It's almost four and even though Arlene had said she was going to pick up Faith, I still don't want to be home too late, I want to spend some time with her over dinner, before I return her to Janet.
When I walk in, a young man walks up.
"Hi, is there anything I can help you with, or would you prefer looking around."
Normally I'd prefer to do things on my own, but given the time, I chose to go for help. "Sure. I am looking to outfit a new kitchen for a diner. Two restaurant sized grills, one large range, two convection ovens, refrigeration, stainless steel work tables; the lot."
"Wow. New venture?" The kid asks, looking interested.
"No, fire burned out the kitchen. It's an existing diner, going through some renovations."
"Sorry to hear that. I'm sure we can help you. Come on back."
An hour later, Eric, the helpful sales guy who turns out to be a new graduate from the Culinary Institute, has me set up with just about everything we need, including his phone number, should we want an extra hand in the kitchen. He is eager to garner some experience, and who knows, we might be able to find some use for him. I tell him thanks and that I'll take his information to my boss. What I don't tell him is that I am shacked up with said boss. He doesn't need to know.
After picking up the tiles at Home Depot, I am halfway home when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?"
"Joe? What's up. I'm on my way home from Durango. Why?"
"Arlene with you?" Joe wants to know, inserting a small needle of fear under my skin.
"She should be home with Faith. She was going to pick her up in Cortez, Why, Joe? What the fuck is going on?"
"Just found out Geoffrey Williams has been out for over a week and as of yesterday missed his scheduled parole meeting."
"What the fuck? I thought you guys were keeping tabs on him? How come we didn't know he was out?"
"FUBAR, Seb. Feds shut down every trace GFI had running, pending the outcome of their investigation of their own fuck up with Will Flemming. Everything they connected to that case was confiscated, from GFI and from my office. We dropped the ball, big time, never followed up and I'm thinking neither did GFI, otherwise we would've found out. I gotta try and get a hold of Gus, see if he has anyone close. He is down in Grand Junction with Emma."
"Jesus! Yes, I know, they were on their way out this morning when I picked Faith up. I gotta go. I have to call Arlene."
Joe's next words have the fear spreading like wildfire through my veins.
"No answer. I already tried, buddy. I'm on my way now."
Keeping half an eye on the road, I hang up and immediately start dialing the house phone. No answer. When it goes to voicemail I leave a brief message.
"Babe, you get this, give me a call when you can, right away. Love you."
I'm hoping if something has happened and she can hear me, she'll know I'm coming, but I don't want to alert anyone else who might be there. I have the same result calling her cell phone and leave her a similar message. The possibilities of where she could be run through my head. She would have been long home by now after picking up Faith. Did she even make it home? Were they out somewhere? I'm trying to focus on all possibilities that don't involve a worst-case scenario, but none of them seem plausible.
The thought of that bastard getting his hands on her again has me seeing red. I'm going to rip him apart. But when the realization that Faith might be in danger as well, has the contents of my stomach boiling up. I pull off on the shoulder and just manage to wrench open the door and hang out before I throw up the entire contents of my stomach. Not taking any time to clean up, I simply yank the door shut, wipe my mouth on my sleeve and take off driving again, fuelled by fear and adrenaline, praying that my girls are okay.
Because I don't think I could survive if they aren't.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I am holding my breath as I carefully walk down the stairs. Something is not right. It's almost pitch-black downstairs and I am sure I left the light in the hallway on. The only visible light is coming from outside.
"Faith?" I call out tentatively, my hand sliding along the wall as I take another step down. No response.
Automatically my hand goes for my pocket in search of my phone, but I remember leaving it on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to shower.
As I take the last step down I almost jump out of my skin when I hear the house phone ring. I immediately turn in its direction, but before I can even move one step, a hand clamps on my mouth from behind. I'm not fast enough to avoid being pulled back against a hard body. A familiar fear settles over me when I recognize the smell of cigar smoke. And when I hear his voice in my ear, I realize I'm in big trouble.
"Waited for this moment a long time, sweetheart." He says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Better not answer that call. Wouldn't want to have anyone interrupt our little reunion."
His hand still over my mouth, and his other arm holding me securely around my waist, I can't do anything but shuffle where he directs me. First I need to know where Faith is.
"Let her go, Geoffrey. You have me, do what you want but let the girl go." Looking at the man who already took so much from me now holding a gun pointed at me, I barely recognize him. Sure, the face is the same, but he has bulked up quite a bit while in prison. I do recognize the evil sneer on his face. It’s one he liked to use on me to make me beg to be left alone. Then he slowly shakes his head 'no'.
"She’s a fine piece of pussy, Arlene. Gonna take care of her after I'm done with you. At least that one won't fight back." He has to laugh at his own joke. Sick bastard.
"Geoff. Please let her go, she has the understanding of a child, don't do this." I try, but my attempt only earns me a backhand across my face.
"Enough of the whining, you bitch! I'm-"
Just then, the phone rings again. Instinctively I try to get up, but Geoffrey yanks me back by the hair, putting the gun right against my temple. I can hear Faith whimpering. I lock my eyes with hers and try to reassure her with a little wink. But then I hear Seb's voice leaving a message.
"Babe, you get this, give me a call when you can, right away. Love you."
Hope floods through me as I consider the implications. He knows - I can hear it in his voice, and if he knows something is up, he would be calling in the troops. My mind starts to imagine how close to home he might be. Geoffrey doesn't give me an opportunity to consider long, though. Enraged by the message, he pulls my head back by the hair he still has a firm grip on and brings his face so close I can smell the remnants of cigar and alcohol coming off his skin and rancid breath.
"You whore! You fucking him? Huh? Tell me, bitch!"
I try to keep my mouth shut while he shakes me by the head like a rag doll. I can feel clumps of hair pulling free of my scalp.
"You put me in that hell hole to rot and now you're fucking him?"
Not able to hold back anymore, I let loose. "You put me in the hospital, you miserable bastard! You killed my baby… almost killed me! What did you expect? A fucking medal?"
"I told you I was coming back, didn't I? I will always come for you. You belong to me!"
"I belong to no one!!"
All my rage and pain collected over years seems to surge through me at this moment and all I can see is blood. His blood. I don't even think, I simply rip my hair from between his fingers and slam my forehead into his face as hard as I can.
Geoffrey's hands fly up to his face, where his nose is pouring down blood. In the next instant I have my hands fisted together and I haul out as hard as I can between his legs. His knees buckle and with another swipe of my hands, I have the gun flying out of his hand. His turn to whimper.
I don't waste any time to scramble after the gun before he gets his wits about him. Ducking under the coffee table where I saw it disappear, I feel around for it. The tips of my fingers touch the cold steel and as I'm closing my hand around it, a firm yank on my legs almost pulls me out from under the table. Fuck.
Pulling into our street I can see a hand-full of patrol cars half-way up the road to Arlene's house, blocking the road. I stop at the roadblock and see Joe running up to my truck.
"No further, Seb. Looks like he's in the house and I don't want to take any chances."
Sliding out of the truck, I push past him to head up the road to my girls, but Joe pulls me back.
"Buddy, you go marching up, you might as well sign their death warrant." That stops me in my tracks. I lean over, hands on my knees and try to calm down my breathing and my thoughts. Joe's hand never leaves my back.
"We're gonna approach with caution, but you have to stay here."
I am up like a flash and in Joe's face. "Like fuck! You're gonna have to shoot me to keep me behind." I growl, poised for a fight and at this point I don't give a flying fuck who gets hurt in the process. No one stands between me and my woman, or my sister. Like hell.
"I can't have you running off half-cocked, man. I have to be able to trust you stay behind me and listen. You got me?"
"Yeah, yeah. I've got ya, now let's fucking get going."
With one last pointed glare at me, Joe turns around and starts heading into the front yard of the closest house. I stick close behind as we make our way as close to the houses as we can, to avoid being spotted from Arlene's place. Joe in front, and a deputy behind me, we don't come in with a lot of gun-power. We don't need it, I would take the guy apart by hand if need be.
When we reach the corner of Arlene's house, I notice that other than Arlene's truck there are no other vehicles on this side. I poke Joe in the back.
"If he's in there, where's his car?"
"My guess? Planning for a quiet getaway after doing what he came here to do." Concern is evident on his face as it sinks in that killing must have been all that had been on Geoffrey's mind.
"We'll try around the back, see if anything is open there for easy access."
We are just making our way into the backyard when two loud shots ring out and my stomach drops. But then I take off, ignoring Joe's shouts behind me, with one thought on my mind. Getting inside.
From the back deck, I find the sliding door unlocked and step into the kitchen, Joe right behind me.
Sitting on the floor in the middle of the kitchen is Arlene, rocking Faith in her lap. For a second I fear the worst until I hear the little whimpers coming from her. Dropping down on the floor I pull both of them between my legs and fold myself around them, while Joe continues further into the house.
"You hurt?" My voice cracks when I whisper the words in Arlene's ear.
"We're good. Better now." She says, holding on to my sister and leaning back in my arms.
Furiously scrambling to get a good grip on the gun as I'm being pulled out from under the table, I manage a solid kick that meets resistance. Instantly the grip on my leg is released and I pull myself out on the other side of the table, gun in hand, shaking like mad. I look back and see him curled over on the floor. Good, must've hit his balls again. I hope they rot and fall off. The fanatic glint in his eyes as he glares at me is unmistakable. He intends to make me pay.
I back up into the kitchen, keeping the gun pointed in his direction. Once there I slide behind Faith's chair and whisper in her ear. "You just sit tight. I'm gonna get us out of here, okay? Going to untie you now, but you stay still. Can you do that?"
At the slight nod of Faith's head, I hold the gun with one hand while the other frantically works to get the tape off her wrists and the chair's armrests. I freeze when I hear movement in the other room, I can't see him anymore but my ears are attuned to every little sound. Frantically pulling at the strip of tape on the other side, I just manage to pull it off when Geoffrey appears in the door opening, a sneer on his face.
"You won't shoot me. You're too big a coward, Arlene. Always were, always will be."
Before he finishes the first step in the kitchen, I pull the trigger. I will never forget the look of surprise on his face when he is stopped in his tracks by the bullet entering his stomach. But he is still standing. Without stopping to think, I pull the trigger again. This one takes him down. I drop the gun, sink to my knees and sit on the floor when I feel Faith's hand stroke my hair. When I look up, she has her arms out and I pull her out of her chair into my arms, where she cries.
Next thing I know the safety of Seb's smell and body surround me. Exhausted, yet feeling stronger than ever, I lean back into the comfort of his body.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
"Can we open presents now?"
Faith is perched in her chair by the Christmas tree, clapping her hands with all the excitement of finding presents littering the floor underneath the sparkly lights.
Even though it has only been a hand-full of days since our ordeal, Faith has recovered
amazingly well. She wasn't hurt, we made sure of that when the EMT's arrived and we had her checked out, but we were sure the events of that night would scar her more emotionally than she already had been. Boy, did his sister surprise him. The past few days he had taken her to Vista Mesa for private counseling sessions, to ensure she had help processing the events. But if anything, it seemed that Faith in all her innocence, had found a way to translate the experience into something positive. Sure, she still would have some negative reminders from time to time, but for the most part she had seen Arlene fight off her abuser and it had given her a sense of her own power. Not to mention that Arlene was the subject of Faith's adoration now. Even if Arlene herself wasn't quite sure what to do with it yet, Faith seemed to have awoken some dormant, nurturing part of her.
I'm just proud. Proud of my sister, for her naive resilience, but most of all I'm proud of my Spot. Fuck if she didn't slay her own damn demon. Something I would've done for her. Hell, something I wanted to do for her, but I have to put that aside when I look at the change it has brought about in her. Always a strong woman, now she doesn't seem to feel the need to prove it with her attitude all the time anymore. I even suspect she might be proud of herself. And this time, she didn't resist at all when some therapy was suggested for her to deal with the fact that she had killed a man.
"Let me just pour us something to drink, and then we'll start with one present, okay?" Arlene suggests. "Janet, Gus and Emma are coming over soon and we'll all open presents together."
As she tries to walk past me into the kitchen, still wearing the sweats she pulled on this morning after rolling out of bed all rumpled and sexy after a very merry Christmas wake-up session, I grab her and pull her on my lap.