Picture this (Birds of a Feather Book 3)

by Lena North

  “I don’t remember either of their names, though,” I added after a while. “Something girly… Bella, maybe? Common last name, like Anderson or Johnson. The dude is called George something.”

  “Prosper PD will find out,” Carson said, and I nodded.

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “How did you know?” Bo asked curiously. “That is wasn’t the real painting, I mean?”

  “It was the red,” I replied with my mouth full of potato.

  “Huh,” Carson muttered, and I raised my hand.

  Then I tucked some more potato in my mouth and, still chewing, I went to get a couple of acrylic paintings I’d done.

  “Here,” I said and put a painting of Miller’s kite on the table. “See this rusty red, here on the top of the wings, and in the tail? That’s what red looks like after many years. It loses its… I don’t know, sharpness, I guess.”

  They stared at the painting, and I put the next one down.

  “Now look at this. This is also a muted red, but it’s much brighter. There’s more crimson and –”

  I stopped talking when Miller grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  I looked at him and said slowly, “It’s a dragon, Miller. I told Wilder and Jinx about it, didn’t they tell you? It’s the tattoo that man had. The one –”

  “A dragon,” he repeated.

  “Yes. It was on the inside of his wrist.”

  “Shit,” he said and turned to his brother. “You see it too?”

  “Yup,” Carson said.

  “Bo?” Miller asked.

  “Hell yeah,” Bo replied.

  “What?” I shouted.

  “That’s not a dragon, baby,” Miller said softly. “It’s a snake.”

  “Okay,” I said, not sure why this was important.

  He was pressing buttons on his phone, and muttered, “I’ll explain later, need to – Hawk, shit man, I’m sending a picture over, hang on…” He turned the phone, snapped a picture and pressed the screen a few times. Then Hawker’s pissed off voice sounded over the loudspeaker.

  “Where the hell did you get that, Mill?”

  “Mary just showed it to me. She painted it. It’s the dragon tattoo she told your daughter and Jinx about.”

  “Hell,” Hawker muttered.

  “Can someone please tell me what I’ve done wrong!” I shouted.

  “Nothing wrong,” Miller said, but added, “That snake you painted is the insignia of the biggest drug cartel in the west world, though.”

  “Why the hell are they interested in the crystal?” Hawker muttered, but added, “How long do you need?”

  “I’m leaving in thirty, have to set things up here first.”

  “Bee will need a few hours anyway. I’ll get Kit to stop by on his way from Prosper and add some security shit,” Hawker said.

  “Appreciate it,” Miller replied.

  “Later,” Hawker said, and the call was closed.

  Miller nodded to his brother, and they walked off, but I couldn’t just sit there in the kitchen and wait, so I called out to him.

  “Do you want me to pack up your things?”

  He turned, and I thought he looked surprised, but then he murmured, “Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.”

  So I packed his clothes, and when I found a weapons bag under his bed, I pulled that out and was in the process of checking the rifles when he walked in.

  “Careful,” he murmured.

  “I know how to handle rifles, Mill,” I said calmly because I did. “Haven’t touched the smaller guns or the rest.”

  Then I slid the last rifle back in the bag, zipped it and stepped back.

  “I packed up everything, most in the bigger duffel, but some in the backpack in case you need to move around,” I said, feeling like an idiot because what did I know about how vigilantes wanted their bags packed. They could want suitcases with wheels for all I knew.

  He came to me then and put his big hands on each side of my neck.

  “Do not leave the property. Do not talk to anyone you don’t know. Do not use the net. No email. Only call Wilder, Hawker or me.”

  I blinked.

  “Okay?” he asked and shook me gently.

  “Okay, but –”

  “Mary, it might be nothing, but we don’t know. Hawker has some contacts in that organization, and Byrd is pulling strings. Olly is activating his hackers,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I’ll have to leave,” he said and unzipped the weapons bag and started strapping knives and pistols on his body with alarming ease.

  I knew he was a warrior, although I’d ignored that and focused on the gentle veterinarian with the laughing, warm eyes.

  “Please be careful,” I whispered.

  “Always am,” he said but he sounded preoccupied, so I walked out to the front porch where Carson and Bo were waiting.

  Miller walked past us and threw his bags in the back seat of his car. When it looked like he was about to get in the car and leave without even saying goodbye, I took a few steps down from the porch and yelled at him, “If I hear that you’ve operated on yourself again, Mill, I’ll be seriously pissed.”

  He raised his head and grinned at me. Then he closed the door and rounded the hood. His big hand framed my cheek as he leaned down and touched his forehead to mine.

  “I’ll be careful, baby,” he whispered.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  Then he straightened, looked at his brother and pointed at me. Carson flicked his fingers in a salute and Bo kissed his fingertips and blew him a kiss.

  Exactly twenty-eight minutes had passed since Hawker closed their call. I stood on the porch watching gravel spew as Miller drove away, following his taillights until they disappeared around the corner.

  Then he was gone.

  Chap

  ter Ten

  Sleep-sleep

  Kit stopped by to set up a security system, and he stayed a few hours but declined dinner.

  “Walk me to my car, Mary?” he asked, and I nodded.

  We hadn’t talked since before I got kidnapped, and I wanted to clear the air. The fact that I was staying with his family shouldn’t keep him away, and we’d been good friends. We should be able to find our way back to that, I thought.

  When Kit tried to take me in his arms, I realized that he had other ideas, so I sidestepped and smiled toward him in a way that I thought was friendly.

  “Mary,” he said, “It’s good that you’re here with Da and Bo. They’ll take care of you until I can –”

  “Kit, no,” I interrupted. “Please, don’t. We broke up, remember?”

  “Yes, but surely we can find our way back to each other?” he asked.

  I stared at him. Then I glared at him. A way back to each other? Was he for real? We’d not exactly been a love match made in heaven. We’d dated casually for a few months, and it had been lukewarm at best.

  “There is no us, Kit, and there never really was,” I told him.

  “There could be,” he retorted.

  “No,” I stated.

  “I’ll just leave you here and once this whole mess is over we can –”

  “No,” I said again.

  “Sweetie, don’t be like that. You wouldn’t be here with my parents if you didn’t think that we had a chance. I’ll –”

  “Kit, please listen to me and know that when I say no… I. Mean. No.” I said, almost shouting out the last words.

  I had no clue what had gotten into his head, but he needed to go away and think about what he was saying. I knew he wasn’t in love with me, and since he barely kissed me while we dated he wasn’t in lust with me either.

  “Mary, darling. We’re just right together, and you know –”

  “Son,” Carson rumbled from the porch, and I jerked around.

  Well, shit, I thought sourly. Why hadn’t
he stayed inside?

  “Got some coffee for you,” Carson said and walked down the steps.

  He put his arm around Kit’s shoulders, turned him around and shuffled him toward the car, all in what seemed to be one fluid movement.

  “Da,” Kit started.

  “Stand down, son. The girl has said no, several times, and I taught you to respect that, didn’t I?”

  “But –”

  “Your pride is stung, and you’re worried. And you feel guilty. I get it, Kit,” Carson said, put the travel mug on the roof of the car and his hands on his son’s shoulders. “This will not end well for you, so back off before it ends up in a place that’s going to hurt.”

  Kit’s eyes darted between his father and the warm travel mug that was standing on his car. His precious, shiny car.

  “Boy,” Carson snorted, “You’re more interested in the polish of your car than talking about this. That should tell you something.”

  “Da,” Kit sighed but didn’t say anything else.

  “I know, son. Off you go now and call when you can. Be careful.”

  They shared a long look, and then Kit’s eyes swept over me. I looked away, partially because I was embarrassed but mostly because I was angry. Then I heard his car rumble, and walked inside, straight to my room where I started to pack up my things. There was no way I’d stay after that scene. Kit had even assumed I stayed with Caron and Bo because of him, which was ridiculous.

  “I can’t let you leave,” Carson said from the door.

  “I’m legally an adult, Carson, so I don’t see how you can stop me.”

  “Honey…”

  He walked into the room, closed the door and sat down on the bed.

  “Sit down for a while,” he said.

  “No,” I said, and I heard how juvenile it sounded, but I didn’t care and kept folding my clothes.

  Then I realized that they’d given me all of that, and I couldn’t take them with me, so I pushed the piles to the side and looked around. Most of my paints and brushes were out in the barn, so I threw the drawing pads and a box of pens into my big tote bag.

  “Mary, sit down,” Carson said, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he repeated sternly, “Sit.”

  I guessed I owed him that, at least, so I sat down without looking at him.

  “Kit feels so much guilt, Mary,” he said, and my eyes flew to him.

  “What?” I breathed. “Why?”

  “He let you leave, and they took you to that place.”

  “But –”

  “He doesn’t love you,” Carson went on.

  “I know that,” I said.

  “Bo and I knew from the start that it wouldn’t last, sweetie. We don’t blame either of you for that. It just wasn’t right.”

  “I can’t stay, Carson. I can’t continue to pretend you’re family when it hurts those who really are.”

  “Kit will be fine,” he said and pushed my face up until our eyes met. “I love my son, Mary…” he paused and smiled crookedly before he added, “But I love my brother too.”

  I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and he chuckled.

  “It’s not…” I started, had no clue what to say, and tried again, “We’re not…”

  He started laughing, and I felt ridiculous.

  “I know. But it will, and you will,” he said. “So, Mary, I’m not letting you leave.”

  I opened my mouth, though since I had absolutely nothing to say, I closed it again.

  “Exactly,” he said. “Let’s go and see how badly Bo has ruined dinner for us, shall we?”

  As it turned out, he’d ruined it completely, but he called for pizza and went out to the gate to collect it.

  “I used to work in a pizza place,” I said. “If I ever get a house, then I’m so going to invest in a proper pizza oven.”

  “You baked pizzas?” Bo asked.

  “Nah, I was a waitress. The guy doing the pizzas liked me though, and it was mostly deliveries anyway, so he let me help him.”

  “Yeah, I can see why he liked you,” Bo chuckled.

  We’d talked several times about how I worked my way through University, and they knew a little about my background, but these two men had taken me in when I needed help, and I couldn’t give them much back, but I should give them me.

  “I told Wilder about my parents,” I started.

  “We know, honey,” Carson said quietly.

  “I didn’t tell her everything,” I said. “I didn’t tell them about…”

  And then I told them about my years in foster care, and my years on the streets of Prosper. They asked a lot of questions, and I answered every one. Then I told them about home, and about how I’d restarted my life when I was fourteen. When I finally finished speaking, I felt completely drained, but also relieved, almost cleansed as if talking about my history had washed away some of it.

  “I don’t talk about this a lot,” I said. “The others don’t know. Miller knows most of it and the others…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain my unwillingness to share.

  It wasn’t that I was embarrassed, at least not exactly. Mostly, it was because I’d been so afraid it would hurt too much.

  “We won’t gossip,” Bo said, and I grinned at him.

  “Bet that hurts,” I giggled.

  “Like what you asked your relatives to do,” he said, “A pineapple, Mary? I salute your creativity.”

  I laughed then.

  “I was so angry. My aunt was standing there, and the last time I’d seen her was when she dropped me off with social services. I wanted to punch her straight in her face, and if she hadn’t looked so much like Mom, I would have.”

  “They looked the same?”

  “Oh yeah, they did. They were identical twins, so she looked exactly like Mom.”

  “She let her twin sister’s child go into the system?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed.

  I could tell that Bo wanted to say something that probably wouldn’t be very nice, but Carson slowly moved his hand under the table, and I guessed he squeezed Bo’s leg to hold him back.

  “Dessert!” Bo exclaimed instead.

  After that, the days passed by much like they had before. Carson told me that there was a flurry of activities going on, but I didn’t hear from Miller and tried to not think about what they were doing. I started sleeping in the incredibly pink guest room, and woke up sometimes but managed to calm down every time. Carson took me to pick up my car and then I spent some time with Bo at his store. I worried about Miller and the others, so after a few days, I asked Carson if he’d heard from any of them.

  “Yeah, talked to Kit for a few minutes yesterday. They had some… issues with their prisoners, so interrogations aren’t going as expected. They want to hunt down the last men that held you prisoner and find that man from Marshes. The Ophidians are an issue, although Hawker got word that it was once of their cells operating rogue, and that would be a relief if it’s true.”

  My mind whirled with the information he’d apparently gotten out of his son in a few minutes. Issues with prisoners? Cells? I focused on the part I understood the least.

  “Ophidians?”

  “The drug cartel, Mary.”

  Oh.

  “Issues with prisoners?” I asked.

  “You’re sure you want to know?” he replied, and I wasn’t, but I needed to know, so I nodded.

  “They killed themselves. Had some kind of capsules with poison on them,” he said calmly

  I reared back and gasped like an idiot.

  “What did they do with the bodies?” I breathed, imagining how they wrapped them with thick chains and let them slide into the ocean. Or something.

  “Mary…” he chuckled. “The authorities are involved. They killed themselves in state prison.”

  Oh. So much for thinking they were all badass vigilantes operating completely outside the law.

  “Okay,” I said, because
what else was there to say?

  Then my phone rang. I jumped and stared at it as if it was a bomb, but then I saw the name on the screen.

  Miller.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “You okay?” he murmured.

  “Yes. You?” I asked.

  “I’m good. With a little luck, this’ll be over by tomorrow.”

  I swallowed and nodded stupidly.

  “Mary…” he said when I remained silent.

  “Are you careful?” I asked.

  “Haven’t operated on anyone yet,” he said, and I giggled quietly.

  “That’s better,” he murmured. “Is Carson around?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  There was a pause, and then he chuckled.

  “Mary… Can I talk to him?”

  Oh.

  “Yes,” I said quickly and moved the phone toward Carson, but pulled it back and whispered, “I’ll be here.”

  “Sweetie,” he murmured, and his voice was so tender, but I knew he needed to do whatever it was he needed to do so I took a deep breath.

  “Here’s Carson.”

  Then I handed the phone over to his brother and listened shamelessly on the one side of the conversation that I could hear.

  “Yeah, okay,” There was a longer silence, and finally Carson sighed, and murmured “Right. Good luck. Let us know, yeah? Kit too.”

  Then he closed the call and handed me the phone back.

  “They’ve tracked that man from Marshes down, and will go after him and the remaining men tonight,” he said, frowned and continued, “They’re worried the Ophidians will retaliate.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I know how to shoot a rifle,” I added, which made him grin.

  “I’m not so worried, Mary. We’ll activate the security system tonight, and that should be enough.”

  “Okay,” I repeated, but since there wasn’t anything else I could do, I spent the rest of the evening pacing the living room and checking my phone. Then I tried to sleep and faked it so Carson and Bo would go to bed, although there was no way I could close my eyes when I knew that Miller, Wilder and my other friends were out there in the night somewhere, hunting the men who had held me prisoner. After a while, I walked out on the porch and sat on the soft couch placed against the wall, watching the forest. Carson had placed weapons by every entrance into the house, and a few other places, so I’d grabbed the rifle on my way out and held it across my lap. Nobody would enter the house from this side, I vowed, and no one would hurt my friends while they slept.