by Katie Cross
He paused, for a second appearing entirely sober. He tapped a yellowed fingernail on the door near my face, studying me closely. I almost thought I’d gotten through to him. That I saw a facet of something real in his dark, troubled gaze.
“Because I don’t want to be alone, Bethie baby. And if your mama ain’t here, then Lizbeth will have to do.”
Revulsion crawled through me like a nest of spiders. I stepped back, ready to vomit.
“No!”
The shout came from just behind me. Ellie and Devin skidded into the shop from the hallway. Ellie growled, wide eyes tapering the moment she saw him. Jim’s expression darkened immediately, clearing any flash of lucidity.
“The whore-child!” he screamed. His fist banged the door again. “There she is for everyone to see! Your mama was a cheater, and you won’t be any better than her.”
Ellie’s hands tightened into fists at her side.
“Ellie,” Devin said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You hated me!” she cried. “I didn’t do anything wrong, but you hated me.”
“Paying for the sins of your mama.” Jim stumbled to the side, leaning against the door to regain his balance. “You always will.”
Ellie’s nostrils flared. “I know you’re not my father.”
“Damn right I’m not!”
“You tried to kill me. To hurt me. To blame me for Mama’s death, but it was your fault. You killed her! You chased her from the house. You told her you’d make sure she paid for her mistake. I heard you. Then she died, and it’s your fault.”
Jim paled. “I didn’t kill her.”
Ellie hissed through her teeth. “Murderer.”
He slammed a fist into the glass, nearly cracking it. “Bastard child!”
“Hit me again,” she called, “and I’ll kill you. You’ll never walk free again.”
Jim reached into his baggy pants and yanked something out with a bellow. A gun appeared in his trembling right hand, pointed straight at Ellie’s heart. “Not if you’re dead.”
“Jim,” I cried. “No!”
Devin yanked Ellie back, throwing her behind him. I shoved them both into the hallway just as the percussive sound of a gunshot at close range blasted through my ears. An explosion of shattering glass accompanied it. I looked up to find Ellie and Devin on the ground in the hallway, eyes wide.
“Run!” I yelled.
Ellie and Devin tripped over each other until Devin shoved off the ground, grabbed Ellie’s shirt, and hauled her to her feet. They disappeared out the back door and slammed it shut. I scrambled up as Jim advanced into the shop through the broken glass, gun trained on me.
“Don’t move!” he screamed.
I froze. My heart pounded in my throat. Slowly, I held up both hands.
“All right,” I whispered. “I won’t move.”
At my acquiescence, he stopped. He stood there, panting. His thin chest heaved up and down. A strangled sound escaped the back of his throat. A cry. Like a little sob. The gun wove back and forth in an erratic dance as he struggled to stay upright.
Finally, he leaned against a table.
“All right,” I said soothingly. My voice and hands shook, but everything else seemed oddly clear. My thoughts were calm. My mind focused. My vision crisp and bright. “Calm down. We’ll work this out, Jim.”
“She lied,” he whispered. Anguish filled his voice. “Kat lied to me. She used me. She gave me a daughter, and then someone else a daughter. Then she left. I loved her. I really loved her. She was the . . . only thing I ever cared about.”
I stared at him, disarmed. A sniveling sound came from his throat as he lowered the gun.
His head bowed. “She’s right. I’m the reason Kat is dead. She left . . . because of me. I . . . my fault.”
“Jim . . . Mama wasn’t perfect. You didn’t deserve what she did to you.”
“No.”
“She got in that car. She chose to drive away.”
A low, keening sound filled the air. A flash of black appeared just behind him, followed by a war cry. A thin cord wrapped around his neck, yanking him to the ground. The gun went off again. The floor splintered. Chunks of wood flew into the air.
Jim screamed, and blood sprayed from the top of his right shoe.
Ellie shouted as Jim fell back on her, struggling to pull her arm away from his neck. A string she’d kept in her emergency weapons stash tightened around his throat. Devin appeared through the front door, a thicker rope in his hands. I shot to my feet, kicking the gun away from Jim as Ellie pulled harder on his throat, feral determination in her gaze. He clawed at her hands with his freakish nails, drawing blood. But his alcohol-laced attempts were too weak to dislodge her.
Seconds later, Devin tried to hog-tie Jim’s hands. Police sirens sounded outside as Jim’s eyes rolled back in his head. His body slackened. Devin stared at him, hands shaking. Blood still poured out of Jim’s right shoe, pooling on the floor.
I crouched next to Ellie. She held on to him still. Her entire body was rigid, as if she couldn’t release him. Her teeth dug so far into her bottom lip that I could see her bleeding.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “Let him go, Ellie.”
Her frightened eyes, filled with grief and terror, found mine. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m too scared.”
“You can. It’s going to be okay now. He’s going to be in prison for a long time. He’ll never see you again.”
“Am I going to prison?”
“No.”
“Have I killed him?”
“Not yet.”
“Will Devin be in trouble?”
“No.”
I squeezed her shoulder. She panted, looking to me for consolation.
“It’s okay. I’m Team Ellie. I’ve got you. I’ll take responsibility if I have too, but it won’t come to that. All right?”
Chest heaving, she let out a long, shaky breath, then released him all at once. She slid away with a cry, as far away as she could scramble. Shards of glass lay beneath her, but she didn’t notice them. When her back collided with the wall, she looked at Devin. He crossed the room, crouched next to her, and put his arms around her shoulders. Then he sank to the floor at her side, both of them trembling.
Sheriff Bailey appeared in the doorway, gun drawn. “Bethany?”
A lightheaded feeling rushed over me. Everything seemed to move slowly now, every sound amplified. The smell of gunpowder sharp in the air. Lizbeth shuffled up behind me with a low, muted sob.
“Bethie?”
“I’m fine,” I managed to say to Sheriff Bailey. “He . . . he shot himself in the foot the second time. None of us are hurt.”
Sheriff Bailey surveyed the scene, then strode over, glass crunching beneath his boots. After picking the gun up off the floor, he placed a hand on my shoulder. Like a shock wave, my stunned paralysis faded. I sucked in a sharp breath.
The girls. I had to get it together
“You’re going to be okay,” he said, voice low and firm. “We have an ambulance and help on the way. You’re safe now.”
His words echoed in my mind.
You’re safe now.
I whispered, “Thank you,” then reached back and grabbed Lizbeth by the arm. I pulled her into me, and then I held out a hand for Ellie. With a cry, she jumped to her feet and buried herself in my arms with her sister.
The two of them clung to me and cried while I held them close.
The next hour and a half passed in an odd blur.
Sheriff Bailey spoke on the radio. Ellie trembled against me, her teeth rattling like old bones. Lizbeth gazed on as they carried a half-conscious Jim to the ambulance. The sound of crunching glass rang in my ears. Deputies swarmed the shop. Flashing lights. The quiet chatter of people in a subdued environment. It moved around me like a storm. I stood at the center, something inside me ready to break.
My team is coming, I thought. My team is coming.
Th
ey came.
I don’t know how much time passed, but Millie appeared first. Devin ran to her, his face ashen. Ellie followed him with a sob, throwing herself into Millie’s arms. Millie spoke quietly with me as I explained, clinging to her son and Ellie. She admonished them both, hugged them, and then cried.
After they both gave their explanation to the deputies, Millie took them home.
Jada showed up next, eyes wide. While Lizbeth spoke with Sheriff Bailey, Jada hugged me so tight it hurt. When Lizbeth finished, Jada retreated to take her home with the promise to take good care of her and stuff her full of comfort food.
“Got plenty for you, Beth-baby,” Jada murmured quietly into my hair. “Come home when you can.”
That left me in the middle of the coffee shop with Sheriff Bailey.
Once the girls left, my composure faded. A low tremor started in my legs. With every passing moment, it crept higher. My knees knocked as Sheriff Bailey asked, “Do you have somewhere you can go?”
Tears clouded my eyes. No Dad. No Pappa. No comfort on this horrifying day. Where would I go now? I didn’t want to be around the girls. Didn’t want them to see me totally shatter and collapse like a dying star. They needed to recover without guilt.
I needed space to think. To breathe. To not think about them, and focus only on me. They were safe. A hotel. I could find a hotel room. Or just drive somewhere. No. I couldn’t drive. Not like this.
Maybe I could go upstairs and lock the door.
I opened my mouth to respond, but a voice from outside stopped me.
“Bethany?”
Maverick slipped past the deputies sweeping up the scattered glass and paused in the doorway. His fear-filled gaze slammed into mine. The burning terror in my chest broke. I reached for him.
He grabbed me a second before I collapsed.
“Lizbeth called me.” His arms tightened, and his broad shoulders swallowed me. He alone held me up. “I hauled down the canyon from Jackson City, but there was a slow car and . . . she said Jim was drunk and had a gun. She . . .”
He surveyed the coffee shop over the top of my head.
I molded into him. My body shook until my teeth chattered. I felt cold all over, strangely distant, able to think only one thought.
He came back.
Vaguely, I heard the deep rumble of Maverick speaking to Sheriff Bailey. Felt him pick me up and take me to his truck. He set me on the seat next to him and drove with his arm around me. Trees flashed by. I kept my eyes closed and held on to him.
35
Maverick
Bethany’s teeth clattered as I carried her up the stairs and onto the deck. Her hands felt like ice through my shirt. I lowered us onto a deck chair in the sun. A tear slipped down her cheek as she looked at me with soulful, terrified eyes.
“Jim,” she whispered. “H-he—”
“I know.”
“I thought we would die. I thought . . .”
A lock of hair fell into her eyes. I tucked it away. “You saved them, Bethany. You did so good.”
“B-but I could have. He could have. It . . .”
I trapped her hands in mine, pressing a kiss to them. “It didn’t. Everyone is safe. He won’t ever hurt you again.”
Tears filled her eyes. She reached out, brushing my cheek with a feather-light touch. “You came back.”
“Nothing could have stopped me. I’m Team Bethany all the way.”
With a cry, she closed the distance between us. Her lips claimed mine. She kissed me with all the frantic passion of someone who’d faced death and come out the victor. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, not satisfied until every part of her pressed against me.
“I’m sorry, Bethany,” I whispered. She pulled away, hazy with fear and passion. “I was such a fool.”
“No.” She trailed a hand down my face. “You were right. I still had things to work out. Things to . . . face.”
Overwhelmed, I grabbed her chin, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and tucked her into my arms. With a sigh, she rested her head against my neck. Her trembling slowed.
“My dad committed suicide four years ago,” I said.
She paused but didn’t look at me. Grateful, because that made it easier, I pressed on. The words tumbled out. I couldn’t have stopped them if I wanted to, and I didn’t.
“It was just after Mallory and Baxter announced a devastating loss their company, Epsilon, suffered as a result of a failing sales force. They weren’t sure the company would recover. I’d been working as a sales manager with another company, so they recruited me. I took over their sales team. Within a year, they’d grossed their first million.”
Her shoulders relaxed. She laid a hand on my chest. Her eyelashes fluttered as I explained what I was doing in Jackson City. The call with Mallory. Sensing that my voice calmed her, I kept going. Told her about my family. My four brothers. How much I’d adored my father. How I’d gone home to hear it all out—all the gory details—with my mom. We’d called a family council and hashed it out. Finally, my family had spoken about the gory details.
Ugly, healing tears were shed.
“My dad always talked about me going to medical school. Working with people like him who’d lost movement in their legs. Doing research with stem cells to figure out a cure. But I didn’t. He had a lot of ideas for me that I didn’t pursue, and I thought I’d disappointed him. My dad was my hero, working legs or not. I assumed I’d failed him. But I was wrong.”
I blew out a long breath. She reached around me, tightening her hold.
“I wasn’t a failure to my father, and I’m not responsible for his death. As crazy as it sounds, I thought his suicide was about me. But it wasn’t. It had nothing to do with me at all. I thought his disappointment in my choices was what pushed him over the edge.”
Bethany tensed for a moment, then turned. Her bright, aquamarine eyes blinked at me, and she rested her chin on my chest.
“You were afraid something terrible would happen to me, just like your father.”
“As insane as it sounds, yes.”
“It doesn’t sound insane. Grief makes you think crazy things, Mav.”
“I’m sorry, Bethany.”
She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We both had things to sort out.”
I held on to the small of her back. Afraid I’d lose her. Afraid this would just disappear. “And what did you sort out?”
Her expression eased into a half-smile. “The Frolicking Moose is rustic cozy, I sell the best-rated pastries in Jackson City, and I learned that my dad isn’t in a coffee shop.” She touched her heart. “He’s in here. In me. Always.”
How could any work have been more important than this woman?
“Above all that,” she murmured, her gaze on my lips, “I realized you’re the member of my team I want the most. I don’t need you, Mav. I want you. That’s infinitely more powerful, I think.”
I smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes with my fingertips. “I want to be on your team.”
“Even if there are two other people on it?”
“Even if.”
“You are my team,” she whispered. Sparkling tears filled her eyes. “Because you came back.”
I pressed my forehead to hers. “Do you know that I love you? That it terrifies me in the most frightening, wonderful way possible? That I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life?” A wry expression crossed my face. “Full right leg included.”
Her lips pressed together as if suppressing a smile. “Not as much as I love you, Mav.”
The pad of my thumb rubbed her bottom lip.
A tear spilled down her cheek. “Hold me?” she whispered.
I tightened my grip until there was no space.
“Forever.”
She fell into hot, cleansing sobs on my chest until long after the sun faded. When she fell asleep, curled on top of me like a kitten, I carried her into the bedroom. I s
et her gently down, grabbed a blanket, and lay next to her. She burrowed into my neck with a sigh.
Finally relaxed, I fell asleep with her tucked safely in my arms. The way I planned to do for the rest of our lives, in this very house.
That was an expectation I’d never let go of.
36
Bethany
Four months later.
Christmas Eve.
The pop of a cork exploded in the coffee shop.
Lizbeth held out a cup, hopeful eyebrows raised. “Is that champagne?” she asked. “Does Bethany officially adopting us mean you’ll finally let me try it?”
Maverick laughed but showed her the label on the bottle of sparkling cider.
“Nice try, Liz.”
He poured the cider into five flute glasses, then passed them out. I winked at him, grateful to have him back. He’d just returned from buying a house in Jackson City that we’d start flipping in early January, after our first holiday together. Lizbeth already had Pinterest boards for the interior. Ellie couldn’t wait to build a chicken coop in the back before it sold.
He’d consulted with two other companies in Jackson City over the past four months. Their business revenue was on track to double within the next five months. He liked it well enough to continue, but his real heart-and-soul was in home restoration.
Ellie sniffed the cider, then recoiled and shoved it back. I chuckled as I accepted mine. My aversion to sweet food must be somewhat genetic. For this kind of celebration, I’d make a happy exception.
“To new beginnings,” I said, lifting my glass. Hung on the wall in a position of honor was the official declaration Kinoshi had brought over this afternoon.
I was a mama-sister.
Lizbeth grinned. “To new parents. May you pay me more in allowance than the former ones did.”
Ellie just lifted her eyebrows, as if she merely tolerated our celebration. Devin leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She grinned a megawatt smile, giggling under her breath. Maverick put his hand on the small of my back, pulling me against him.