Wandering: A Rock Star Suspense Romance

by Daniela Jackson

  “Like where for instance?”

  “To Alaska,” her voice falters as her body shivers.

  I watch her as she chokes back tears, takes a deep breath and stops shaking.

  “Ruby...”

  “Jack said we would be happy, you know, just me and him, far from all the shit.”

  “I know, sweetie.”

  “Jack saved our lives twice and they killed him. They killed their colleague.”

  “I know, sweetie. It’s so fucking unfair.”

  “He would have died for us.”

  “I know, sweetie.”

  The mafia found us once. Jack disclosed their hitman soon enough to shove us into the car and drive off, but ended up with a bullet in his chest. He suspected that there might have been the mafia’s spy among the cops working on Ruby’s and my case. I guess I will never know.

  Maybe Ruby is right. Maybe we should vanish, hide where nobody can find us.

  “He made me feel good,” Ruby says. “I felt like a woman with him.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe he was supposed to make me feel better about myself, to make me believe that even without my legs I can have a happy life with a loving man by my side.”

  Her maturity brings both warmth and sadness into my heart. “Maybe, Ruby.”

  “There must be the reason for every tragedy in our lives. I don’t know. Jack showed me what passionate love is. Do you think I’ll find a man who will want to share such love with me?”

  “I hope so, honey. You deserve such love.”

  “You deserve love too, Eavan.”

  “Sleep.”

  “You are annoying, you know.”

  I kiss her temple. “Sleep. I’ll check on you later.”

  Ruby closes her eyes so I correct the duvet around her and watch her tired face for a moment. There are delicate wrinkles under her eyes and her naso-labial folds have deepened because she’s lost weight.

  I’m so furious with my father, for all the shit his actions put our family in, for my mother’s death, for Ruby’s disability and nightmares, for my nightmares. For my unborn baby who will never meet its father.

  I get up and go to the kitchen.

  Natalie is standing by the window, correcting the wide leather belt in her trousers and the gun on her hip. A pale blue shirt makes her face look a bit ashen, not a good colour to match her skin tone, at all.

  “How is she?” Natalie asks.

  “What do you think?”

  “She’s young. She’ll get over this.”

  “She died again with Jack. She died on that night my parents were killed and Jack made her recover. You made her die again, you...” My voice rises and Natalie shoots snaps of lightning towards me with her hazel eyes.

  “I’m not your enemy,” she says.

  “Right, you’re just doing your job.”

  “Yes, I’m just doing my job. The best I can.”

  My eyes sweep over the kitchen table and the documents spread across the top.

  “Samantha Green?” I ask. “It’s the worst false identity I’ve ever had.”

  “You’ll start your job as a receptionist in two days.”

  “Sure. Why not? I’ve never been a receptionist.”

  I’ve been a cleaner, a librarian, a waitress and a florist so far. And of course the older daughter of a lawyer who worked for the mafia, a pretty scary position.

  My family had a beautiful house. There were parties, expensive clothes, and fear clawing the back of my neck as soon as I grew old enough to understand who my father was and who his clients were. He was rotten to the marrow of the bone as were all the men seeking his help to cover up their crimes. Greed was eating him like a parasite, decadence and evil was clouding his mind.

  I remember the hungry eyes of his boss, Adriano; they slid over Ruby and me each time he visited our house. I remember that stormy evening, when I was sixteen and my mother was very unwell, resting in her bedroom, intoxicated by her anxiety medication and Adriano came to our house with his two bodyguards.

  I served food and drinks as the men settled themselves in the living room.

  Adriano pulled me onto his lap. He sank his face into my hair and inhaled me.

  “Untouched?” Adriano asked.

  “Of course,” my father said.

  “How much?” Adriano asked.

  My father said the price, his face like a mask, stripped of emotions, eyes cold like a piece of glacier, and his boss kissed my neck. I knew I’d been sold to him.

  I learnt what primal fear was in that moment, what hatred and repulsion were. I learnt what betrayal was. They were all that stinging and incinerating suffocation, making me teeter on the edge of collapse, making me feel like in a trap. Making me desire death.

  “Soon, angel,” he said into my ear then turned his face to my father. “What about the other?”

  “She’s too young,” my father said in a sharp voice.

  “I want them both, Carl.” Adriano stroked my hair. “But we can talk about it later. No rush. In a year, perhaps? When Ruby is old enough.”

  My father nodded, anger blazing in his eyes.

  Ruby was born as his mistress’s child and she was more precious to him than I was because Gloria was more precious to him than my mother was. My mother adopted Ruby when she was only three months old and she loved her as she loved me, with her desperation, anxiety and helplessness. Gloria was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all I know.

  Adriano shoved me off his lap, touching my bottom and I escaped upstairs. I was crying in Ruby’s arms the whole night.

  A week later, I was packing my belongings to move into Adriano’s house and my father suddenly changed his mind. My mother and he united, deciding to go to the police but soon, they learnt that no one was allowed to screw with the mafia.

  “I know you didn’t choose your family,” Natalie says, tearing me out of my reverie. “It just happened that you were born in shit. People have worse problems in life.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I’m trying to help.”

  “Try harder.”

  Her thin eyebrows rise then a smirk crosses her asymmetric lips. “Behave. I’ll check on you next week.”

  I salute her.

  “And eat properly.” Her eyes slide down to my pregnant belly. “Try to walk every day. The baby needs peace otherwise, it won’t let you sleep when it’s born.”

  A strange feeling strangles my throat. It’s warm yet eerie. Natalie is really trying to help.

  Seafra

  Charlie takes a seat in the sofa standing at the wall and puts an A4 envelope on his lap, patting it with his hand. I sit on the carpeted floor with my knee bent, running my fingers through my hair. A cup of tea in my hand disperses a vanilla aroma.

  “The address,” Charlie says and sips his tea as the worn out sofa creaks with his every movement. “Do it discretely.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean it. Like a shadow. Fucking hell, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He reaches to his back pocket and throws keys at me.

  I catch them and shove them into the pocket of my hoody. “Thank you.” I scramble to my feet and deliver the empty cup to my claustrophobic kitchen looking like a cellar in some dungeons then return to the living area accommodating only the sofa, the coffee table and the low cupboard with the flat screen on top.

  “The passport, the national insurance number, the birth certificate, and the driving licence,” Charlie says.

  “Thank you.”

  “I just can’t believe I’m doing this.” He puts the cup on the coffee table as his hands tremble on his lap.

  He has this tremble when he’s very nervous and I’ve seen him very nervous maybe ten times. Normally, he can hide his emotions behind a mask called a nice guy with a good sense of humour.

  I swallow saliva. “Well—“

  “Are you sure, Connor?” He fixes his concerned eyes onto mine. “There will be no going back.”


  “I made my choice a long time ago.”

  “You have no money.”

  “I will find a job, don’t worry.”

  I’m penniless. Almost all my savings has covered the search for Eavan. But it was worth it.

  “If you needed anything, call me, but each time use another phone and dispose of it immediately after the call,” Charlie says. “Avoid hospitals, crowds, police stations, train stations and all that stuff. Don’t make friends with the people who could expose you.”

  “I know what to do.”

  “No, you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re crazy, but I can’t lock up a grown up man in his bedroom.”

  “I love her.”

  “That’s the whole fucking problem.”

  I rise to my feet, hanging a bag over my shoulder and take the envelope from Charlie’s hand. “Sort the things out with the landlord. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Sure.”

  “And don’t worry about me.”

  “Be careful,” Charlie says.

  “You too.”

  “I may visit you from time to time.”

  “Sure. Thank you for everything.”

  I mean for everything. For his unorganised, crazy ideas of how to raise me, for his harsh words, for his soothing words when I needed them the most, for all his help. We argued, fought like wild animals sometimes and said nasty words to each other, but he was for me each time I was in trouble.

  “You’re the best brother I could wish for,” I say, my throat thin, strangled by emotions.

  “Do yourself a favour and be happy. Like really happy.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  We shake hands and I walk out of my flat. My eyes roam over the surroundings as I settle myself on the Harley-Davidson Charlie bought for me abroad. I start the engine and the bike moves towards the main road, passing the police station and my favourite cafe.

  I rev up and shoot forward to reunite with my woman whether she wants to reunite with me or not.

  Chapter 14

  Seafra

  I spend the night in a cheap hotel by the motorway, rolling in bed. My bottom and muscles are so sore from the ride that I can’t find a position to rest. I wake up, looking like a zombie, and continue my journey before the sun appears on the horizon.

  Charlie will take care of my old life. He’s a professional. I have followed his every guide so everything should be fine.

  Coyote will find my goodbye letter soon. He’ll learn that I’ve decided to commit a suicide. Charlie will push my car into the canal where many people died but their bodies were never found. The world will mourn over Seafra for a while then everybody will forget me.

  Ten hours later, I park my bike in front of a red-bricked house surrounded by a devastated garden. My heart thumps in my ears.

  I remove my helmet, jump off the bike, stretching my aching muscles, and move towards the front door, knocking on it. The rasp of the lock makes my throat tighten. The door creaks open and dizziness fills my head as my eyes meet hers.

  Eavan looks at me like I’m a ghost.

  And fucking hell I look at her like she’s a ghost too.

  “What the fuck,” she mumbles.

  “Is the baby mine?” That’s all I can articulate at the sight of her pregnant belly.

  Her palm travels to her stomach and she steps back. “You have to leave.” She clutches the door and sweeps it but I jerk my leg forward and block it with my foot, entering the house.

  “Is the baby mine, Eavan?”

  She moves back along the magnolia wall of a narrow hall opening into a kitchen.

  “Get out of my house,” she hisses.

  I leap towards her and grip her arms. She writhes like an angry animal so I enclose her with my arms and bury her in my embrace. She cries and wriggles, tramples my foot, but I lower to the floor and immobilise her. Her back is resting against my chest and I’m blocking her with my legs. She breathes heavily and stops moving.

  “Calm down, Eavan. The baby—“

  “You have to leave,” she cries out.

  “I’m not going anywhere, do you understand?”

  “Seafra, please. It’s not—“

  “Safe?”

  She gulps as her chest shakes.

  “I fucking know that, Eavan. But that’s okay. I won’t let you be in this shit on your own. Is the baby mine?”

  “Of course he’s yours.”

  Joy fills my veins. I will have a son. “Listen to me, Eavan.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I still don’t understand a few things but I know enough now. My brother is a private investigator, you know. He worked as a cop, but they fired him for screwing up one job. He dug deep enough to find you. I know what you’re dealing with and that’s fine. From now on we’re in this shit together.”

  “Seafra—“

  “There is no Seafra. Seafra is dead. There is Adam Budny and his girlfriend. What is your current name, by the way?”

  “Samantha.”

  “So Adam Budny and Samantha. Nice, don’t you think?”

  “It’s too dangerous.” Her body shakes and I can feel every muscle of her chest strain to block the cry forcing its way up. “I can’t even think that something bad might happen to you.”

  “I know the risk, Eavan. Charlie was very informative. Nobody will find us, I promise.”

  Eavan curls into my chest and sobs as her fingers dig into my back. “They put a bomb into the car because my father screwed with them. He made a bad decision and changed his mind. He wanted to go to the police, but it was too late. The people of mafia don’t forgive things like that. They don’t care about your remorse.” She takes a long wheezy breath. “Ruby and I wanted to pee so my father stopped and let us out of the car.” Her voice falters and I can barely understand her. A gasp follows her every word. “Strange, isn’t it? We both wanted to pee at the same time.” She squeals then kills her cry. “I walked first, Ruby a few steps behind then the bomb... The impact threw her at another car. It crushed her legs. Jack... They were in the area, thank God. Jack... he saved her... Us. He said later that they’d watched my family for a while.” She shudders in my arms like a drenched bird. “Ruby screamed so loud. So loud, Seafra. But, that night was a salvation. Ruby and I would have ended up as the mafia boss’s fucktoys if he hadn’t blown up the car. I sometimes feel so guilty, so terribly guilty for being grateful for that bomb.”

  “Hush baby.” I stroke her back and draw her even closer to me. “I’m here to look after you.”

  Fuck. Ruby and she have gone through hell. My life seems like a fairy tale compared to theirs. I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing or not, but those two girls deserve happiness and peace. They deserve love so I’m here to love them both and my baby, by the way.

  Somebody clears their throat above my head. I raise my eyes to meet Ruby’s mischievous glance.

  “What’s the plan?” she asks.

  ***

  I put my elbows on my lap as Ruby nudges my chest with her elbow and offers me a sandwich. We’re sitting in the sofa in the living room and watching TV.

  The news presenter I met some time ago is informing the whole world about my death.

  “Very smart,” Ruby says.

  “Are you fucking mad?” Eavan growls.

  “I’m mad about you,” I say.

  “But your career, your life,” Eavan raises her hands dramatically. “That’s just insane.”

  “I don’t want my career if you can’t be with me,” I say. “I love singing, but I love you even more. I will always choose you, Eavan.”

  She nods at me, her lower lip trembling, and her hands clenched against her stomach. “We can’t stay here.”

  “I will take you to a safe place. I have a good plan.” I take Eavan’s hand and plant a kiss on her knuckles. “Trust me, I know what to do.”

  “I will pack our belongings,” Ruby says.

  “Ruby, stop,” Eavan rises to her feet and star
ts pacing around the room. “We have to think about it. Natalie—“

  “She’ll be here in four days,” Ruby says. “We can manage. You heard Seafra. It’s a good move.”

  “Nobody knows about this place apart from me and Charlie,” I say. “It lies in the middle of nowhere far from the entire civilisation. Nobody will find us there, I promise.”

  “Ruby and I can’t use the identities Natalie provided us with,” Eavan says. “The police will track us in an instant.”

  “Take a few shots of Ruby and you and Charlie will provide you with new passports and driving licences,” I say. “He’s already supplied me with the national insurance numbers and birth certificates for you both. They didn’t require your photos.” I toss my hair back. “Everything will be fine, Eavan. We just need to stick to the plan.”

  “Why do you want to risk everything,” Eavan says, putting her hand on the back of her neck. “Why?”

  “Well, I’ve already told you,” I say. “I love you, you stubborn woman. Haven’t you noticed?”

  Ruby chuckles and clings to my chest. “I love you for loving my sister.”

  I kiss the top of Ruby’s head. “I love you for being you.”

  “Okay,” Eavan says. “Let’s do it.” She bobs her head as her hands tremble. “Let’s do it.” She huffs out, her face pale, her lips a bit purple.

  “She loves you too,” Ruby whispers into my ear.

  “Good to know,” I say.

  “Ruby,” Eavan starts in a cold voice. “Pack two bags.” She looks at me, her face stripped of emotions. “Are all the documents of a good quality?”

  “My brother is a professional,” I say. “And they cost me a fortune. I have no money left in my bank account for your information, just two hundred in my pocket. I paid Charlie’s expenses and the rest went to charities so my suicide looks genuine.”

  I’m poor as a church mouse, but somehow more excited, more focused. Full of hope. Scared like hell but the girls shouldn’t know about this. I’m the man here. It’s my job to be tough and give them support.

  Eavan’s lips part into a smile. “I have some savings, not a lot, but it will be enough for a month or two.”