Soul Bonded, #1

by Lori Titus

  I tried to maintain my calm, but I felt panic rising in my stomach. “You’re going to have to tell me exactly what you mean, because I don’t understand.”

  “I went to the store today,” she said. “And while Ronnie was up front taking care of customers, I took a good close look at the books. I knew there had to be something going wrong because you wouldn’t talk about the store. I had no idea we were so deeply in debt.”

  “You couldn’t have helped,” I told her. “I found a way to take care of it myself.”

  “And exactly how did you do that? Girl. I have been sick. I may have been out of it for a while, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you treat me like I am stupid! Where did you get eighty thousand dollars from?”

  “From the bank. I got a loan.”

  “No, you didn’t. I checked. That money was a cash deposit.”

  “A different bank than the one we normally use. I tried them first and they turned me down. I couldn’t let them take the store, Mama, that’s our livelihood!”

  “Yes, you could! People go out of business every day out there. You know what they do? They get up, and they start something new, something different. They don’t go out and risk their souls for money.”

  “Mama! What are you talking about?”

  She stepped up to me. There was fire in her eyes. I took a step away from her.

  She pointed at me. “I know you’re not just into something illegal like drugs; you’re going to tell me the truth right now. You made some kind of deal. Who did you do it with?”

  “Deal?” I choked on the word. I could feel my face turning red. When I didn’t respond, she kept talking, growing more confident with her theory as she spoke.

  “You know, at first, I thought maybe you were doing exorcisms like your father did. I thought maybe that’s why you had Stuckey’s son with you. But once I saw the amount of money, I knew it had to be much worse. Most people who call an exorcist to handle their problem don’t have money. Or if they do, they’ve already exhausted their bank account by trying every therapist or spirit worker they can find. It would take nearly a lifetime to earn that kind of money doing exorcisms.

  “And then,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I remembered the Nethers outside of our house. It’s not anywhere in the literature, but it’s something your father told me. Nethers often hang around a person who has made a deal with a demon, to make sure they handle their end of the bargain. It’s only the two of us living here. It had to be you.”

  “Mama,” I said. “Please, you don’t understand. I was about to lose you and lose everything and it was too much. I know it was wrong, but I did this for you.”

  “For me!” she screamed. “This is what you do for me?”

  “It was impossible,” I said. “Lose the business, or lose the house, or maybe both. We were drowning in bills for caregivers. You were sick. Your memory was gone. I don’t know how much you know about the last couple of years but you’ve been slipping away from me piece by piece. I had to fix it. I had to find a way and they promised me that they could make you well again.”

  “It’s worse than blasphemy, it’s a spit in the face to everything that your father risked his life a thousand times for. It’s against everything we ever taught you.”

  I tried to remember a time in my life when I’d seen her more angry and couldn’t think of one. Her whole body trembled with the enormity of her rage.

  “I didn’t know what else to do. I know it was wrong but—”

  “This was your solution,” she said. “Alright. Here’s mine, Natasha. Get out of my house.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me!” she screamed, clenching both fists and wringing them in the air. “Get out. You go upstairs and pack a bag, whatever you want to take, get in your car and leave. I don’t want to hear anything from you. As far as I’m concerned I don’t have a daughter anymore.”

  I went upstairs and got out my weekend bag. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The tears started to come when I realized I’d packed all I could into one bag and would have to find a second one. My hands were shaking. My chest, which felt hollow before, suddenly felt like it was filling with water. I almost drowned once when I was a kid, and the sensation was similar.

  I called Ronnie. There was no answer. I sent him a couple of text messages, but I knew I didn’t have time to wait for his reply. I dialed a second number and decided against it. I hung up on the second ring. Everyone didn’t need to know my problems. All I had to do was go check in at a hotel. Maybe Mama would cool off. If not, I would be fine. There were plenty apartments for rent in the city and if I wanted to I could get a house.

  That’s what I told myself in order to try and calm down. But this was about much more than where I lived.

  It seemed impossible that after dedicating the last two years of my life to taking care of her she was throwing me out. This was not the way it was supposed to be. Leaving home was supposed to be a happy event. I’d moved back in to take care of her and given up everything in my life to make sure she was taken care of.

  When I came back down, one bag under each arm, she was waiting at the foot of the stairs.

  My mother’s hot anger was bad enough, but what came next left me hopeless. Her eyes had changed. I felt the coldness in her glare. I had feared the day when she would look at me and no longer remember who I was. This was infinitely worse. I was suddenly a person she didn’t want to know. Not because an illness had stolen her memory, but because she’d made the choice to no longer want me around. I tried not to look at her as I made my way past her.

  “Don’t you ever come back here,” she said between clenched teeth.

  She slammed the door behind me so hard that the vibration of it rattled my bones. I had never felt like that before. I only had a piece of my spirit left, but I suffered with my whole being.

  I’d given away my soul for my mother, and she despised me for it.

  Part Three

  Alliances

  Chapter Eighteen

  Henry Pollard

  “If you had bet money, you would have lost,” Henry said. “They came through today fine.”

  Henry was sitting in his living room, staring out the windows of his deck onto the marina. At night, he often liked to turn out all the lights and look out at the ocean. There were a few yachts sailing in the distance, their lights winking like distant stars against the vast open waters. It was late for this phone call but Victor had been unavailable earlier.

  “I figured they would,” Victor replied. “It’s part of the reason I picked them. Stuckey is strong, very adaptable. Thinks quickly on his feet. Natasha is skilled in many ways, though she will do her best to hide it. Chris is the one who remains ignorant of his own talents.”

  “You still haven’t told me, why these two?” Henry pressed. “You never really cared much about who you picked before. Haven’t you always said that any human soul would do?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. Henry imagined that Victor was shrugging. “I’ve thought about it, and maybe it’s time I changed my perspective. It makes you old, always looking at things from the same angle.”

  Henry reached for the tumbler of whiskey on the coffee table. He took a sip. He remembered nights when he and Victor were still young, and they would share a nightcap together, discussing what had passed during the day. With all the animus between them, some part of him still remembered those days fondly.

  It was all fine if he didn’t ask himself if Victor loved him back then, or if he’d always been a means to an end. Henry knew his own love was true. It didn’t hurt anymore. It just made him angry.

  “I found their instinct to protect each other interesting. There’s an attraction between them.”

  “And?” Victor drawled, trying to sound bored. Henry could always tell when his old friend was faking a reaction. Victor loved to examine humans, picking them apart to their most essential bits.

  “I was wondering if
you would want to discourage that.”

  “No,” Ramshead said. “Let them do what they want. In fact if our new employees like each other, that may very well work toward my ends. Don’t discourage them. We’ll just act as if we don’t notice.”

  “I suppose interference wouldn’t work anyway,” Henry said.

  “I doubt it would, beloved.” Victor replied.

  There was the softness in his voice. Henry hadn’t been called by that pet name in a long time and he couldn’t help to wonder what the reason was behind it.

  Henry took another drink from his glass, emptying it. He felt tired and decided that he shouldn’t have any more that night. “You toy with me, just as you do with these people.”

  “What would be the use in living without playing games?” Victor asked.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Christopher Stuckey

  I was in the shower when my phone rang. Instead of rushing out to get it, I waited. Honestly, there’s always something wrong when anyone calls after eleven at night. I was dreading whatever bad news this could be. Business would wait until the next day. For a moment, I thought of my sister and wondered if something might be wrong with her or the baby she was carrying. I checked my phone.

  It was Natasha’s number.

  The phone had rung twice. She didn’t leave a message.

  I sent a text message, but she didn’t write me back. When she didn’t answer I decided to make a quick run to her house.

  With all that had happened in the last week, I preferred to look paranoid rather than think everything was fine. If I was wrong, Natasha could tell me to piss off, and I wouldn’t complain.

  The lights at her house were all off. Natasha’s car was in the driveway. I was about to turn around until I realized she was sitting in her car, smoking a cigarette.

  I walked up and tapped on the window. She jumped, and then powered the glass down.

  “What are you doing here?” Natasha swiped at her eyes with the back of a hand. She tried to hide her tears but only succeeded in smearing her makeup.

  “You called me,” I replied.

  “Oh? Oh yeah, I did.”

  “Why aren’t you inside?”

  “I just got kicked out of my house,” she said. “I can go get a room for the night, but I was trying to calm down first.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “She knows about the deal with Ramshead.”

  “Well, how’d she find that out?”

  Natasha put a hand over her chest. “I can explain later, but let’s just say she knows these kind of things.”

  “I’m sorry. Come on. I’m not letting you take a room. You can stay at my place for the night. There’s plenty of time for you to figure out what you want to do tomorrow.”

  “What about my car?” she asked.

  “I can drop you off to pick it up in the morning.”

  Natasha cast a glance back at the windows of the house and narrowed her eyes. “That is if she doesn’t burn it first.”

  “If she does honey, let her,” I said. It sounded harsher than I intended. “You’ve got more than enough money to replace it.”

  I’d expected her to fight me on it, to tell me she had it under control and she wasn’t going anywhere with me. She didn’t. She grabbed her bags and let me drive her to my house. I didn’t think that she was in any shape to be driving or to be alone.

  Natasha knew her way around this time. I mumbled something about her taking the bed and me taking the couch. She went straight back to the room. I gave her some time alone. I sat in the living room for a few minutes, long enough for her to get settled. I knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Natasha was sitting in the middle of the bed. She’d changed into a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. Her hair was piled into a bun, and she had washed her face. I realized that I had never seen her completely bare of makeup. She looked younger and somehow more vulnerable. When she looked down, her long lashes rested against her cheeks. I could see the faint spray of freckles across her nose.

  “You’re gonna be okay?” I asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  She breathed out. “My mother disowned me.”

  “Does she know why you did this?”

  “I told her why. She doesn’t care.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I could relate, but the fracture between my father and I wasn’t as emotional. We’d drifted apart. There was never any conversation about how ashamed he was of me. He just made it clear he didn’t want me around anymore.

  Natasha ran her hand over the back of her head, absently smoothing a stray hair into place. “You know, I pretty much made it through my teenage years without any serious shit happening. Sure, I got grounded a few times, and my parents didn’t want me smoking marijuana or drinking, but other than that? Nothing. You figure if your parents don’t disown you when you’re a teenager, you don’t have to worry about it as an adult. I don’t have siblings; you’d think she’d miss the one kid she does have. I just. I never thought about her finding out. She was supposed to get well and that was it. I was so worried about her health that I couldn’t think of anything else.”

  I put my hand on her cheek and she took in a halting breath. She started crying, and her tears fell onto my palm.

  Natasha Taylor

  “Hush, baby,” Chris whispered.

  He put his arms around me and held me tight. I can’t explain but that somehow made it worse. I cried like I hadn’t in years, maybe not since my father died. It felt that bad to me. All that week I had been trying not to cry over what I had lost, even before Mama disowned me.

  I held on tight to him. I knew very well I was soaking his t-shirt. He caressed my back and let me cry. He smelled so good. Soapy clean and something else, a warm scent that was the aroma of his skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, my face against his neck.

  At some point he got up and came back with a box of tissue. He put it on my lap and sat back down. “Thank you,” I said. “I must look awful.” I grabbed a few tissues and went to the bathroom.

  He said something to the contrary but by then I was in the bathroom, trying to cool my face with cool water. I was red, and my eyes were swollen. When I got back, he was still sitting in the same spot. I sat down next to him.

  “Sorry,” I said. It was all I could think of.

  He took my hand and squeezed it before replying. I was surprised to realize it was wet with my tears. “Why? Because you’re upset? She may not appreciate what you did, but I understand. It was a beautiful, selfless gesture.”

  I licked my lips. “Yeah. I feel like a chump.”

  “Technically,” he paused. “You know we both are, right? It doesn’t make what you did any less noble.”

  “Do you regret it?” I asked him. “Taking your deal?”

  He took a moment to reflect on the question. “Not yet. I’m sure I will.”

  We were just looking at each other, and I felt something. It was like a shift in the air. We were being a little too honest. In the quiet dimness of his room, there was only one way I could imagine it going.

  Though I felt it coming his kiss was still a sweet surprise. So was the tingle in my spine when his mouth closed over mine. I needed comfort, but more than that I wanted it from someone who would understand.

  Who else would understand better than him?

  I wanted all of him I could take.

  I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and started pulling it off. I felt the snap as he reached beneath my t-shirt and unhooked my bra.

  He stood to undo the buckle on his pants. I started to pull my clothes off too but stopped to stare at him. As good as he looked in a suit, clothes hid the lines and angles of his muscles.

  I reached up and ran a hand over his hard, flat stomach. Our eyes met, and he smiled. And then we were back in each other’s arms again.

  WHEN
I WOKE UP I WASN’T sure where I was. It was raining outside. I could see rivulets of water on the bedroom window. I sat up slowly. I was at Chris’ house. He wasn’t in bed though. I lay back against the pillows and looked up at the ceiling.

  I heard the front door open. A few moments later Chris walked back in. He was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a sweater. His baseball cap was pulled low.

  “Morning,” he said. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so there’s a bunch of creamers on the tray,” he said, handing me a cup. He rested the carrier on the bed-table closest to me.

  “Oh, thank you,” I said. I had to take a sip before I said anything else. He sat down on the chair across from the bed. It felt odd. I was naked under the sheets and he was fully dressed. I wanted to smile too, as a few memories of the night before flashed through my head. Chris was a beautiful man; even better, he was a sensual lover.

  I could tell he was staring. He tried to hide his grin with the coffee cup, but I saw it.

  “Are you always up this early?” I asked. “What time is it?”

  “A little after five.”

  “Are you a morning person?” I asked.

  “Well not usually. When I was in the service I hated being up early but you know, it’s what you have to do. Since I’ve been sober these last days, I’ve been up at the crack of dawn every morning.”

  I had just finished my coffee when he said, “So, I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. I was already trying to prepare myself for the letdown. Well, this was nice, but we probably shouldn’t let this happen again.

  “I’ve been thinking about our problem with Ramshead. He wants the two of us for some reason. I get why he wants you. But I’m not sure what it is he wants with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I know... other than last night, we’re still trying to get to know each other,” Chris said. He took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “I want to take a weekend this month and go back down to South Carolina. Would you come with me? I want to find out what your dad was doing down there. Maybe you and I could both get some of the answers we’re looking for.”