S.O.S. Wiley

by LJ Vickery

  Wiley suddenly remembered that tomorrow was Christmas. He didn’t want Mary spending it alone. “I understand you wanting to get going on the rest of your life, Mary, but wouldn’t you like to spend Christmas with us? Solina and I will probably be going to Prez’s house where there’s an open invitation.”

  Is he the handsome blond giant in your group? Mary questioned astutely.

  Wiley smirked. “That’s him. But don’t tell him he’s handsome. We’ve got him believing he’s an ugly-puss and that Mayg, his fiancée, is just brainwashed.”

  Mary and Solina both chuckled and shook their heads.

  I promise I won’t tell, Mary wrote, but seriously, I’m headed home. Tomorrow, I’ll do what I’ve done every Christmas for my entire adult life…except for last year when Pietro had me confined. I’m going to church, after which I’ll join a group of parishioners who serve a holiday lunch at a homeless shelter nearby.

  “You have friends at the church?” Wiley snatched a piece of bacon out of the pan, getting his hand slapped for the trouble. “Long-time acquaintances?”

  Lots of friends, Mary wrote.

  Wiley scowled while chewing. “Yeah? Where were they during your year of incarceration? Why didn’t they report your disappearance?”

  She pursed her lips. I had hopes a few of the more tenacious ladies would find me. Mary shook her head sadly. Several of them did come to the door…on more than one occasion. But Pietro informed me, delightedly, that he’d told them I was terminally ill and in hospice, unable to have visitors.

  “A fucking long hospice,” he griped. “Uh, sorry. Language. But none of them thought to question your brother?”

  Mary snorted, taking no time at all with her answer. You met Pietro. He’s mean, surly. I’m sure none of them wanted to question him too closely.

  Wiley nodded. “So how are they going to feel when you walk in tomorrow?”

  Mary gave a wide smile. Like they’re witnessing a miracle. Her smile faltered. I’ll tell them the whole story. No need to clean things up. She brightened again. And if I know our congregation, once they hear what I’ve been through, there will be more offers for dinners and social functions than I can keep up with. And, like I said before, I’m turning nothing down. I want people and excitement in my life.

  Wiley’s heart swelled for the spunky woman. She deserved only good things after what she’d endured.

  Solina spoke up from the griddle. “Well, if you need anything, Mary, or just want to talk, we’re always here for you.”

  Oh, Solina, it’s I who should be making those overtures. If it weren’t for the two of you and your friends, I’d still be in that cellar. I can’t say enough prayers of thanks that you folks came into my life.

  Wiley chewed thoughtfully. “It was mostly Solina. Although I’m not happy she didn’t wait for me before going to your rescue.”

  Solina huffed, stacking the pancakes on a plate. “You were supposed to be in Oklahoma for the holidays. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but how did you arrive to save the day?”

  They hadn’t had a chance to talk about things, from either of their perspectives. They’d taken advantage of their reunion for a more physical kind of understanding, but Wiley didn’t hesitate to fill her in now.

  “Remember we were supposed to talk before you went to sleep on Friday night?” he began.

  Solina turned to Mary. “Since I’m rarely attached to my phone, we had a deal that we would call each other at the end of the day, or if something very good or very bad happened.”

  Wiley lowered his brows. “And you didn’t think this Charlie Foxtrot fell under the category of very bad?” he growled.

  Mary started to write, but grinned and crossed it out. Looked like she figured out “clusterfuck”.

  Solina glowered right back. “There was a note in the puzzle when I opened it up.”

  Wiley hadn’t known that. He kept silent.

  “It said, ‘Help me. Held prisoner. Basement,’ ending with Mary’s address.”

  “And?” Wiley waited impatiently to hear Solina’s reasoning for putting herself in danger.

  “And how did I know it wasn’t just kids fooling around? Did you do treasure hunts and scavenger hunts when you were little? Hmm?” she asked, pointing her spatula at him.

  “Of course. But…” Wiley stopped himself. Dammit, she was right. That note, ninety-nine percent of the time, would be a game. And he’d been half a country away. “Okay. I get it.”

  Her gaze softened. “Not that I didn’t curse myself six ways to Sunday once I got caught, wishing I had told you. Now, you tell the rest of your story.”

  Wiley knew she put the focus back on him purposely, in order to avoid thinking about her ordeal, and he was happy to oblige.

  “Well, when you didn’t get in touch on Friday night, and didn’t answer any of my calls, I knew something was wrong.”

  Wiley stopped. If her eyes got any more adoring, he wouldn’t care that they had company. He’d drag her back to bed to keep that look on her face all day. He cleared his throat to get back on point.

  “I called Sarge―”

  “In the middle of the night?” she squeaked, walking to the table with several plates of food balanced on her arms, almost dropping them.

  “Absolutely,” he told her, rushing to catch the bacon, which had started a dangerous slide. “It’s what we do.”

  When the food was safely rescued and on the table, they all sat down and he continued.

  “He went to your place and found the mess, then called the guys.” He ran his hand through his hair, recalling his frustration. “By the time I got back to town, they hadn’t come up with anything, but that was partially my fault. I forgot to tell them about your shop.”

  Solina shrugged. “How could you know it would be necessary? You can’t think of everything, you know.”

  Wiley disagreed. Moaning in appreciation around a bite of pancake, he continued. “You were really the one who saved the day…again. I saw that wrapped package on the desk, the one that’s for me, and read the tag. We were already looking into items you’d purchased in the last few weeks, and with what you wrote, you pointed your finger right at the puzzle box.”

  He reached up and stroked her cheek where the bruises had started turning from purple to yellow.

  “The rest was easy. A trip to the auctioneer, who confirmed he had trouble with the consignor, and an address. Then we did recon at Mary’s house, and the rest you know.”

  Recon? Mary wrote.

  “Reconnaissance. Sorry. Sometimes the military terms slip out.”

  “Sometimes?” Solina rolled her eyes and Wiley chuckled.

  “Okay. A lot. Hazard of the business. But I’m not apologizing.”

  “Nor do I want you to. Without your experience, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

  True or not―because Solina had demonstrated some bad-ass moves all on her own―Wiley was thankful for the way things turned out. Beauty was safe, and Mary would have her life back.

  “Hey.” Solina snapped her fingers. “I forgot to ask. Did you unwrap your present?”

  “Nope. I was saving it…for when we get you home safely.” He hadn’t known the outcome at the time, but he’d been hopeful.

  “Then I guess we’d better finish up here and take Mary home. Because I want to see your face when you open it.”

  It had been several years since Wiley’s Christmas curiosity had kicked in. Long gone was the time when he’d sneak into his parents’ room, unable to wait for the big day. But he got that same tickle in his chest now.

  “Tell me, Beauty,” he cajoled. “What’s in it?”

  She wiped her mouth gently with her napkin, shaking her head. “Uh-uh, Wiley. Not happening. Take me home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  They’d already dropped Mary off, and now Solina chewed on her nail, becoming more nervous the closer they got to her house. How would the place look after being cleaned up by the as-yet-unmet Bri and Mayg? So
lina hadn’t allowed anyone to touch or rearrange her things since that first year of college…with the exception of when she’d moved out of her first home, but she’d been accompanied by her therapist and on meds at the time, a totally controlled situation. This was completely different, and it worried her. Would she flip out in front of Wiley? It was a distinct possibility.

  “Uh, Wiley?”

  “Yeah, Beauty?” He looked so relaxed…and a little funny driving her clunky shitbox when he clearly belonged behind the wheel of something bigger and stronger.

  “I need to warn you about something.”

  His face took on the hard edge it got when danger approached. She quickly tried to calm him.

  “No. Not a threat, or anything harmful,” she soothed. “Just, um, personal. About me.”

  “Oh. Then don’t worry about it. I’m not here to judge you, Beauty,” he told her in his deep, syrupy voice. “I’m here to support you and love you in every way I can.”

  That sounded good, but would it work in reality?

  “Even if you see a freak-out of epic proportions?” she blurted.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Even then.” He reached over and covered her knee with his warm palm. “Now, tell me what you’re worried about. What might make you lose it? Maybe I can help.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how I’ll react when I see what your friends have done to clean up my house,” she told him honestly. “You know how everything has a special place? I’m sure they couldn’t get my stuff back where I had it, and I don’t know what that will do to me.”

  “Okay.” Wiley took a moment to think, his face concerned. “But, Solina, if all your collections are still there, then no matter where they put things, it shouldn’t take too long to get them back to where they belong.”

  Solina pondered on that. “True. But I’m worried that the initial shock might send me over the edge.”

  “And if it does,” he was quick to say, “I’ll be there for you, and we’ll make an immediate call to your therapist. It won’t be a problem.”

  Solina went to bite the left side of her lip, but the stitches were in the way. Ouch. Dammit. “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather just drop me off?”

  “Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want, Beauty. If I need to do it for your own peace of mind, I will. But if this is about me witnessing a meltdown, don’t worry. I can handle it.” He paused before continuing. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Solina sat up straighter. What could Wiley share that pertained to her situation? “Sure. I’m good with secrets.”

  “Okay. My teammate Sarge?”

  “The lovely man with the interesting accent?”

  Wiley smirked. “Yeah. That’s him. The accent is from his Cajun roots, but that’s not the only thing interesting about him.”

  Solina waited.

  “He’s actually been diagnosed with OCD, which I’m guessing might have to do with your own disorder, as well?”

  Solina was amazed at the revelation, but shook her head. “No. Hoarding used to be considered OCD, but if there are no accompanying symptoms, it has its own category called Hoarding Disorder.” She raised her hand and wiggled it. “That’s me. Although it feels like there’s some OCD in there these days, what with needing all my things in their proper spots. But continue. I want to hear more about Sarge.”

  “Well, he had it bad from the time he was a child, but his parents didn’t have a clue how to cope. Their solution was to make him enlist in the army when he came of age, figuring that the service would knock the behaviors out of him.”

  “Oh, my god. That’s harsh. How did Sarge deal with that?”

  “Not well, at first, but he’s a very determined individual, as you will find out. Luckily for him, one of our drill…uh, basic training sergeant’s saw something special in Sarge; otherwise, he would have been sent packing almost before he’d begun. With his help, the army put our buddy into immediate counseling and got him on some really good meds. By the time basic was over, he had a handle on things.”

  Solina huffed. “Which made his parents think they did the right thing.”

  “Maybe. But who knows? Perhaps, inadvertently, they did. Sarge doesn’t blame his parents for anything. They have a great relationship now.” Wiley pulled into Solina’s driveway, slowly driving its length before parking her car behind his SUV.

  “But you told me you were in Special Forces,” she puzzled. “How is it that Sarge was able to be part of such an elite group?”

  Wiley chuckled. “In his case, it was because of his disorder that he got recruited.”

  Solina’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “His attention to detail gives him the ability to see things others might not. It’s saved a lot of lives over the years.” Wiley became serious. “He could spot tripwires, landmines, any small disturbance in the norm where the rest of us were oblivious.”

  “Wow,” Solina said, amazed.

  “Yeah. He’s one cool dude.” Wiley gave her a grin. “And we love to tease the crap out of him about his compulsions…in a friendly way, of course.”

  Solina nodded, wanting to find out more, but now that she was back home, her nerves returned. She drew courage from what Wiley had said. “So, I guess if Sarge can overcome all that, it’s time to go in and face my own fears.”

  “Absolutely. And I’ll be right here for you.” Wiley climbed out and went around to her side of the car. He held out his hand. “Ready?”

  “Yup,” she said. “Now or never.”

  When she walked through her front door, the first thing she noticed wasn’t that the hallway looked a little different. It was the lovely smell. Lemons and…verbena. She took a deep breath, which relaxed her tense shoulders a little. Before she could form another thought, Ostrich came running into the front hallway, stopping short to rub on her shins, as if Solina had been gone for a month.

  “Poor baby,” she said, letting go of Wiley’s hand to pick up her cat, giving him a hug. “What you must have gone through.” She kissed his nose and that did it. Reunion time was over. Ostrich squirmed to get down, so Solina let him go.

  “It smells really good in here,” she told Wiley with only the slightest tremor in her voice.

  “It does. So, does that mean you’re ready to take a look?”

  “I am.” She set her posture and walked into the living room. She blinked.

  Well…not bad.

  Where she thought she’d feel dread, a different feeling suffused her. Interest maybe? Her feet refused to move, but her gaze wandered the room. The furniture placement was different… Better. The ladies had gone to great pains to bring an even cozier look to things. But where was…?

  She took a deep breath. Her head buzzed for a moment until she spotted her toys, then her keys, then her tools. They were all there, just in different places.

  “They’ve kept my collections together.” She blew out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

  “Yeah. Both Sarge and I told them it was important,” Wiley returned, regarding her closely. “How do you feel?”

  “A little upside down, but…all right.” And, strangely, she wasn’t just telling him what he wanted to hear. She did feel okay. “It’s all kinds of weird, but it doesn’t feel bad. I want to put things back where they belong, but I don’t feel the need to.” She stepped forward and sank down onto her couch. “And I don’t feel funny that somebody touched my stuff.”

  Solina examined that sensation, realizing something she should already have known. For a year, she had customers in her store who handled everything. At first, it had bothered her to the point of panic, but it had stopped upsetting her months ago. Months ago. How could she not have seen that?

  She looked up at Wiley, who still had a concerned look on his face. She gave him a small smile. “I’m good,” she told him, gaining strength. “I’m really good.” Solina stood and threw her arms around the man she loved.

&nbs
p; “You don’t need to say it for me, Beauty,” he supplied, hugging her tightly.

  She shook her head against his chest. “I’m not. I just realized I must have been getting better all along and just didn’t know it. I’d become such a creature of habit, the coping mechanisms I used were on speed dial, but I didn’t actually need them anymore.”

  “That’s quite an epiphany.” Wiley didn’t sound completely convinced, but Solina didn’t mind. She’d prove it to him…and to herself.

  She pulled away from his hug and grabbed his hand. “Let’s look at the rest of the house.”

  She tugged him into the kitchen, which appeared sunny and bright, as usual. Her pans hung on their hooks above the stove, and her spice jars were lined up in alphabetical order. Solina actually laughed.

  Did Sarge have anything to do with that?

  Despite the small changes she saw everywhere, what really caught her attention was the huge vase of yellow roses that graced her kitchen table. “Oh, Wiley…”

  “Uh-uh.” He held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.” He shrugged. “It must have been the ladies.”

  Solina flew across the room and lifted the attached card.

  “It is,” she acknowledged. “‘Welcome home. I hope we did everything to your liking. Can’t wait to meet you! Bri, Mayg, Mizzay, Lakisha and Rainee.’” She looked at Wiley. “Lakisha and Rainee?”

  Wiley grinned. “Prez and Maygan’s adopted teenage daughters. The ‘helpful handful’, I call them.”

  “I bet they’re wonderful. I need to thank them all. I’ll have to have everyone over and cook a big dinner.” Solina was already moving toward the other rooms to see if the warm, euphoric feeling would continue.

  Once again, things in her bedroom were not exactly as she had them, but the space was so small, there wasn’t much room for error. She noticed something on her dresser and walked up to it. A pile of broken porcelain. A note lay beside the mess.

  These were items that couldn’t be salvaged. The girls glued together a number of other things that had minor damage, but this was beyond even their patient skills.