Hush in the Storm

by Julie B. Cosgrove

  My whole being floated into a warm place as his mouth pushed harder. I went limp. He lowered himself onto the bed and drew me to him. I lay there, cradled in his arms, eyes closed, as he gently swayed our bodies back and forth. The TV next door hummed with muffled laugher, jingles, and organ music.

  Still, I heard him barely whisper. “I love you, Jen. Enough to wait until you are free from him.”

  I felt the blanket cover me. I nestled my head on his chest. Sleep again took over, this time more peaceful.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I jolted awake as the swoosh of the curtains across the rod blasted sunlight onto my face.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Tom sang in a high-pitched sickly sweet voice as he hovered over me.

  I groaned. “Let me guess. Another of your mother’s obnoxious sayings?”

  “Yes. Does the trick, doesn’t it?”

  “No, the sunlight streaming in did.” I shaded my eyes and tried to lift myself on my elbow. I half-opened one eye to see. When he turned back to face me he was grinning with a faraway look in his eyes. Oh, no. It was the same look Robert used to have after…I crunched the blanket to my neck. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. You fell asleep.” His tone was flat, but his eyes fogged with a touch of hurt as he lowered them to the floor. “I’d never take advantage of you like that, Jen. Honest.”

  I rubbed my hand over the back of my head and slid my body against the wall behind the bed. “Okay, Tom. I believe you. I trust you now. I do.”

  He sat on the edge and handed me a steaming mug of Earl Grey tea. The glimmer returned to his eyes. “About time, lady. Here, take slow sips.”

  “Why were you grinning, then?”

  “If I told you I liked seeing you first thing in the morning, would you get the wrong idea?”

  I shrugged and breathed in the soothing aroma. From the time I was a teenager, Earl Grey solved all my problems from cramps to heartaches. Robert had known that. He probably told Tom. A boulder of new grief crushed my chest. “Robert.” It came out in a graveled whisper.

  “Yes.” He eased off the bed. “Drink your tea, and if you tolerate that, I’ll make you toast.” He stopped at the door. “Then we’ll talk about him.” Hand on the door knob, he added. “Oh, the bathroom is right next door.”

  The door clicked closed. I shut my eyes and opened them again, just to make sure it had not all been a bizarre dream. No. Same room. Same facts. My husband was alive and a horrible man. I was no longer a widow. I was not free. Tom had always known.

  I sipped my tea and gazed around the sparsely furnished room. The walls were scuffed and in dire need of a paint job. The door had a huge, splintered tear in its veneer. The edges around the light switch were smudged in dark gray. The splotched tan carpet was matted with age, yet the room smelled of fresh linens. Why? Then, I spied the plug-in air freshener in the socket across the room. Tom’s attempt to dispel the mustiness, no doubt.

  The old bed made my back ache. The springs groaned under me when I moved. Where was I?

  A chill hit me. Was this a...no. He wouldn’t take me to one of those places. Not where those poor girls met their men for the night.

  I jumped up and rubbed my arms, as if cooties or lice crawled on the bed. I dashed out of the room, my eyes so wide my lids stretched. Tom was at the other end of the short hall on a plaid couch in shades of tan and brown. He jolted to his feet. “What is it?”

  I stopped in the hall, shaking. “Where have you brought me?” My teeth clenched back an angry scream.

  He dashed to me and grasped my shoulders. “You’re all right here. This is my safe house. No one knows about it. Not Mae Lin, not Robert. No one.” He emphasized the last sentence in a slow, firm tone.

  I looked around the dingy walls. “This isn’t one of his...you know, a brothel?”

  He rocked back. “Dear God in Heaven, no.” Tom led me to the sofa and coaxed me on to it. Then he pouted. “Don’t like my decorating style, huh?”

  “Did you have to pick a place so—” I scanned the room with a sour look. “So grungy?”

  “It’s not that bad. It came furnished. It’s cheap. Doesn’t attract attention. I’m not here much, anyway.”

  I bobbed my head. “Typical guy answer.”

  “No creepy crawlies or sticky webs. Promise.” He waved his hand. “See? Windows. We’re above ground this time.”

  I curled my knees to my chest. “Uh-huh. I’m counting my blessings.”

  “Good. Hang tight.” With a wink, he disappeared into the bedroom, but quickly returned with my cup of tea and a box of tissues. He crouched on the floor in front of me, hands flat on the sofa cushions on either side of my hips. “You ask, I’ll answer.”

  I patted the cushion beside me and took a deep drink of the tea. It slid down and coated my stomach with blessed warmth. Tom sat next to me, an arm stretched across the sofa behind my back. One foot crossed in front and slightly bounced on his other knee. His gaze landed softly on my face. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Robert knows about us?”

  “Yes.”

  “He doesn’t mind?”

  Tom’s hand played with a strand of my hair and then dropped. “I’m sure he does. But he chose the direction he went, Jen. He knew you couldn’t follow.”

  I nodded. “I see.”

  He sniffed in a quick breath. “I doubt it.” With that, he took the mug from my hand. “Let me get you a bit more.”

  I watched him head for the kitchen as he rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck. This was hard for him as well. My heart softened. Maybe we were both pawns.

  My bladder decided to come to life. “Tom?”

  He turned back toward me, brows knitted. “Yes?”

  “Do you mind if I...” My eyes pointed down the hallway.

  “Knock yourself out. Take a shower, too. You’ll feel better.” His bare footsteps slapped across the linoleum. “There are towels, shampoo, soap. Sorry, no clothes. I would have bought some, but I was afraid to leave you alone.”

  I gingerly stepped down the hall. As stained as the carpet was, I wasn’t so sure there were no creepy crawlies.

  He peeked out from the tiny galley kitchen. “You can borrow my robe, though. It’s clean. Sort of. It’s hanging on the peg.”

  I shot him a grin. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, Jen?”

  “Yes?” I stopped and grabbed the doorjamb which opened into the once-harvest gold bathroom floor.

  Tom’s face widened into a smile. “No cameras. Take your time. Screw the water bill.”

  His eyes glittered under raised brows. He returned to the sink to dump the lukewarm tea out of my mug.

  A hearty laugh burst from my mouth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The bathroom was clean, thank goodness. Old, chipped porcelain bore hard water stains, but it smelled freshly scrubbed. The shower spray steamed with a hint of chlorine.

  This time, I washed that man right out of my body, hair, heart, and soul. Robert, that was. I let the showerhead’s water spray me until I felt red and raw as my brain shuffled through each question and cleansed it from my mind. How dare he enter this underworld of prostitution? What had lured him? Was he in it before we met?

  A thought flashed across my mind. The woman at the hotel Becky saw him with the night before his wreck. Had she been one? No. She was older and had come to the funeral, in the daylight. Her English was impeccable. A contact then, helping him plan his demise? Or just an evening of fun? I’d never know.

  I slammed my back against the almond-colored, preformed tub enclosure and cursed my husband for all he held dear, if he held anything dear anymore. Obviously, I didn’t fit in that category. Whatever love I had for him slipped down the drain with the residual suds from the drug store shampoo.

  I had legal papers to prove I was a widow. I never wanted to see or hear from him ever again. In my mind, I shoveled the dirt back over his coffin and walked away. His “death” was one lie I cou
ld live with.

  * * *

  We sat on Tom’s scratchy couch, his oversized robe tucked around me in folds. Armed with dry toast and more Earl Grey, I was ready to ask. He seemed ready to finally answer.

  He nodded toward the bathroom door. “Now that you’ve had some time, has any of this soaked in?”

  I snorted a laugh. “No. It’s down the drain. Over.” I swished my hand back and forth erasing my husband’s memory. “No more Robert.”

  “It’s not that easy, Jen.”

  I blew into my tea. “I know. But my whole marriage was a lie. A sham.”

  Tom spoke softly. “His love for you was real. Still is.”

  I slammed the mug onto his wobbly side table. “Don’t you lie to me, too.”

  He rocked back in the couch and banged his head against the wall. “I don’t approve of his choices. He’s deeper into this thing than I thought he’d ever get. But initially his reasons were honorable.”

  I jumped to my feet and wheeled around to face him, hands thrust against my hips. “Honorable? Sleeping with young girls to make them prostitutes is honorable?”

  Tom’s eyebrows emerged as one line amongst several on his forehead. His jaw line jerked. “He told you that?”

  I grabbed my lower lip with my teeth to keep it from quivering.

  Tom leaned back again and rubbed his eyes. “Idiot.”

  I kept my stance. “For telling me the truth?”

  He looked at me, red-eyed. “For telling you anything at all. It puts you in jeopardy.” He leaned forward, hands clutched between his knees. “What else did he tell you?”

  My gaze shot to the ceiling as I took a deep breath, then spit the words out before they hurt again. “About Marisol.”

  Tom groaned. “It’s true.”

  I slung a dagger look back at him. “You knew?”

  “At the time we were at the shacks, no. Robert didn’t even know then.”

  “Robert never wanted kids. I did. Badly.” I hit the air with my fists. Then, I tucked them under my arms and grabbed my sides.

  “Jen, I’m so sorry. You’d make a great mom. Maybe someday…”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose. I had to keep my emotions under control if I was to get any answers. I planted my feet into his grubby carpet and took a deep gulp of courage. Then I asked what I already knew deep down in the middle of my gut. “Truth, Tom. He was there? At the shacks?”

  “He showed up that night, yes. To check on you and make sure they left you, and me, alone. I knew the general vicinity of the shacks, so I led us there.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes rolled to a water spot on the ceiling. “To tell him about Mae Lin, so she’d back off. I knew the traffickers would get a message to him.” He stood, and plunked his finger at the tip of my nose. “And to ensure a way for you to get back to safety, lady.”

  I shifted my weight to the other foot. “Wasn’t that risky? I mean, I could have seen him.”

  Tom spread his hands, palms up. “That’s why you were isolated in the shack with the girls. So you wouldn’t.”

  I knew it would pierce me even deeper, but I had already fallen on the sword of truth. So I asked anyway. “And did he ‘train’ Monica some more while I was right next door?” My fingers made the quotation marks for emphasis.

  He stuck his tongue in his cheek, broke eye contact, and nodded.

  An invisible force shoved the pain deeper into my chest and tore open my heart. I slunk back to the couch. “I see. Because he loved me so very much.”

  Tom sat as well, so close our legs rubbed against each other. I didn’t move away, not this time. His closeness gave me comfort—and strength as if it transfused from his flesh into mine.

  “He had to stay in the role to save you. We couldn’t tell them you were his wife or they might have used you against him one day. So, I’d told them you and he once were lovers, until your husband found out. I told them Robert feared for your life because your husband had a violent temper so he’d told me to bring you—”

  I threw my hands into the air. “Enough. More lies. I don’t care.” I scooted away to put space between us, then pretzeled my arms as I tried to think of what to say next. All my tears were spent, but my heart, ripped to pieces like a paper Valentine, bled with each painful beat.

  Tom waited. I could hear his breathing in the stillness lying like a fog between us.

  I turned to him and stared into those blue abysses for the truth. “Do you do this as well?”

  His expression didn’t flinch. “No.”

  I narrowed into him. “Who’s Mae Lin, really?”

  He remained stone-faced. “An operative I report to. Nothing more.”

  “And she drugged me and had you transport me to New Mexico because...?”

  “It was part of the original relocation plan. I was to get you to New Mexico where Robert could make arrangements for your new life. Mae Lin was to make sure that happened. He left it up to her as to how. But she added her own little twist. She decided when she saw us together she wanted you out of the way permanently.”

  “Why?”

  “I was falling for you. Number one mistake for any asset. She was taking us in the van to Robert in hopes he’d get jealous, maybe beat me up, and traffic you.” He looked away, his eyes narrowed for a moment, then returned to mine. “He’d never do that to you, Jen.”

  My eyes rolled into my forehead. I shifted my weight with a humph. “Don’t defend him, Tom.”

  Sigh. “Let me finish, okay? When I realized her motives, I knew I had to get us away from her and get to Robert first so I could talk with him. He was running point in this whole deal. She was answerable to him.”

  “That’s why we stayed off the roads and took the shortcuts over the ranchland.”

  Tom nodded.

  “And when she figured out we’d escaped, she thought you’d head anywhere but there.”

  He gave me a quick grin. “Yeah. Now do you get it?” With a quick snap of his neck he leaned back, closed his eyes, and spoke in slow, forced words. “It was risky, but I knew he’d secure your safety. When I figured out the other stuff about his involvement with Marisol and Monica…” He looked back at me, his face somber. “And the drug running, I knew I had to get you out of there fast, and under the protection of the authorities. Let them persuade you to testify against me and put you in witness protection. Robert agreed to the plan because he could slither back into the dark and no one would be the wiser. He also agreed to spring me from jail if I took the fall.”

  The light dawned. “So the gunshot in the hotel room was part of the plot? That’s why you called 911.”

  He shrugged. “Consider it Plan C.”

  I shook my head. “Then why the cloak and dagger at Walgreens?”

  He looked at the floor. “Two-fold. I wanted to convince Mae Lin you had no feelings for me so she’d quit tailing you.” Then he looked into my face. “And I wanted to see if perhaps you still did. After all, you didn’t testify, did you? I hoped it meant you loved me. Because...” He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t get you out of my head, or my heart.” His eyes swam.

  I wasn’t buying it. “What was the love scene between you two at the van all about, then?”

  Tom heaved a deep sigh and stood up. “She was jealous of you, okay? She wanted me. So she decided to show you she’d won.”

  “Oh, right. I saw how you resisted her.” I had had enough. I walked toward the hall.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To gather my clothes and get out of here. You men are liars and cheats. I want nothing more to do with any of you.” Now that I was a practicing Christian again, maybe I could go into the mission field in deep Africa and dedicate my life to feeding orphans.

  “Jen, Stop.” He spun me around, grasped the sash of the robe I’d borrowed, and drew me to him. With hands cupped around my cheeks, he kissed me, hard and long, yet with so much tenderness. I tried to catch my breath but he pushed in stronger,
moving his tongue over mine. Just as the world began to swirl, he pulled away.

  “I have never, ever, kissed any woman the way I just kissed you.”

  I watched him stomp into the kitchen as the taste of him faded from my lips. I wobbled back, plopped on the couch, and wrapped my arms tightly around my legs. My aching spine pressed into back cushions mimicking the throbbing heart which pressed against my chest.

  Maybe the reporter Veronica and Dr. Jacobs were right. I really needed outside help—like outside of this universe, Creator-type of help.

  “Dear God.” It was all I could muster to say. I hoped the Almighty understood the thoughts which couldn’t form in my brain and would respond to them anyway.

  After a few moments, Tom came back in the room. His cheeks were still flushed. He popped a can of soda and sat in the chair across from the couch. It was Naugahyde in a rusty color, cracked in the cushions and torn at the arch of the arm. He rubbed the cold can back and forth over his forehead before shooting me a glance. I looked away toward the sliding glass door. It was gray and gloomy outside.

  “Where’s my car?”

  “At your apartment by now I imagine, tucked safely in your garage. That’s what I had another asset do. Nice digs, by the way.” His tone was as flat as the land around Canyon, Texas.

  “I gather you’ve seen it?”

  “Told you I was watching you.”

  So he’d bugged my apartment. The slight whiff of cologne I had smelled wasn’t all in my head. He’d probably been the gravelly voice on the phone as well. I refused to react in astonishment. Enough was enough. Instead, I continued my original train of thought. “It’s not here because...?”

  “Your car?” He sighed and gave me a look as if I was a moron. “So no one finds out that you’re here with me. As I said, this is my safe house. Nobody else knows where it is. I prefer to keep it that way.”

  Tom exited the chair with a humph and walked over to me on the couch. He loomed over me, then bent down and sat on his heels. “Are we going to talk it out or not?”