by Jaime Rush
Eric shook his head. “Too risky. We have to assume that, since Petra felt someone viewing us, they know we were with Robbins. And we can’t be sure it was Braden.” He looked at them with narrowed eyes. “Next time I will not be left out.”
Amy said, “Eric, you’re a liability with Jerryl being able to get into your head.”
“Well, so is Lucas, if that’s what happened. So we’re down to four of us being in the action, and that’s not acceptable. We got rid of one of them, whether he was actually bad or not,” he added, looking at Lucas. “But now it looks like we’ve got another one to deal with, and if he’s more dangerous than Jerryl, he’s going to be a big problem. We’ve got to deal with Jerryl and Darkwell now. That means we need all of us.”
Amy asked, “What about Nicholas?”
Eric cut his hand across his throat. “Take him out.”
Rand said, “We leave him out of the equation for now until we know for sure if he’s the enemy.”
Zoe let out a long breath. Kill or be killed. Either one scared her.
Zoe woke early the next morning, her gaze going to the clock: 7:15 A.M. Her heart hurt and her eyes were wet from a terrible dream. Her granddad had come to her bedside, telling her goodbye. She kept trying to tell him the truth about his son, but no words came from her throat.
“I have to tell him.”
She started to get ready. She’d borrow the Camry, head out first thing. Quick in and out, not long enough for them to find her. Would the nurses call the police?
She looked at her face, all made-up, and frowned. They wouldn’t even begin to believe the truth.
A knock at the bathroom door startled her. “Come in.”
Rand stepped in, wearing only a pair of sweats and looking like a sweet boy with sleepy eyes and tousled hair. Well, except for the piercings and muscles. “You’re up early.”
“Sorry if I woke you. I had a bad dream. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He looked at her with tilted head. Just when she thought he was going to make some smart-assed comment, his expression softened. “Bad dream about yesterday?”
She shivered, at both the memory of that and his concern. “I had nightmares about that earlier, but this one was about my granddad. He died. I’m going to drive into Baltimore and check on him.”
He nodded. “I need to call my gram, make sure no one’s been around. I’ll take you. Give me ten minutes.”
She was so surprised she stood there dumbstruck for a few minutes. Blinking, she grabbed her brush and returned to her room.
Exactly ten minutes later, they walked upstairs. No one else was up yet. “I’ll leave a note.” She found paper and pen at the desk. The picture of five children caught her eye. Rand, as a child, blond and adorable. She was the only one of the six who hadn’t been physically connected when they were children, and she caught herself wishing she had. But they were her peeps, as Rachael would say. She smiled. She’d never had peeps before. Lucas had told Rand’s boys that they were family, and he’d meant it.
“Ready to go,” Rand said from behind her.
Her smile faded. He was ready to go…to leave them behind. And in a way she understood. Caring about people made you vulnerable. She’d felt that vulnerability when they’d nearly been killed. She’d seen the effect of it in Rand’s eyes.
She pulled the photograph down and faced him. “We are family, Rand, even if you tell yourself you’re a loner. I happen to know that you do care, maybe a little too much. That won’t change when you leave, you know. We’ll still care about you. And you…you’ll still care about us.” She pinned the picture back to the board and walked to the door.
In the cool morning air, they rode to the edge of Annapolis before he took the side road to the place where he’d parked before so they could make calls. A breeze whipped in from the creek, raising frothy whitecaps on the water’s surface. Thick clouds moved like gray molasses, some heavy with impending rain.
“Call your granddad, see if he’s lucid.” He didn’t say alive. He stepped to the side and called Ruby.
“Tell her I said hello.”
She stared at her phone, afraid to make the call. The cold, clamminess of the dream still clung to her. Rand laughed at something Ruby said. Zoe closed her eyes, absorbing the sound of it.
“Zoe says hello,” he told her. “No, Gram…. Just get that out of your mind.” He glanced at her, and she knew Ruby was asking if they were getting married yet.
She rubbed the tattooed flowers around her ring finger, took a breath, and called hospice.
The woman’s voice didn’t harden when Zoe identified herself. Not good. “How’s my granddad?”
For a moment all she could hear was the sound of traffic on the highway. Then the woman’s voice. “I’m sorry. He passed this morning.”
“What time did he go?”
“Seven fifteen.”
Zoe’s hand went to her mouth to keep the gasp from escaping. Just when she’d had the dream. Or was it a dream? She couldn’t tell him the truth now. She’d never see him again. She muttered a thank-you and hung up.
Rand said, “Gram, I gotta go.”
She turned away, not wanting to cry in front of him.
He stepped up beside her. “Is he…?”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself to keep in her emotions. “Just give me a few minutes. Alone.”
She knew that wouldn’t be a problem. He’d get as far away as possible.
So it shocked her when he turned her around and put his arms around her.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Why not?” he asked in an equally soft voice.
“Because if you touch me, I’ll cry, and crying makes you uncomfortable.”
He didn’t loosen his hold on her. He pulled her closer.
If only he hadn’t touched her. If only he’d walked away. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”
The first sob escaped, despite her efforts to hold it in.
He rubbed her back. “Let it go, babe.”
She gave in, just a little, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I know it’s for the best. He’s not in pain anymore. It wasn’t like I didn’t know this was coming. But I wanted to see him one more time, to tell him about my dad. His son.” She took a ragged breath. “Do you believe in heaven?”
He nodded. “Right now I do.”
She unfurled her arms and wrapped them around his waist. She curled her fingers against him and let the tears come. She’d wanted to mourn alone. The need to be comforted, to be held, washed over her as strong as her grief.
He held her, never giving her any indication that he was getting antsy or that they should not linger much longer.
Finally, she pulled back and saw the wet stain on his shirt. She tried to rub it, but he stilled her hand. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached out and touched her tear-washed cheek.
“I think my granddad came to me right after he died. The dream, only it wasn’t a dream, was him coming to say goodbye.” Her voice cracked on that last word. “Does that sound crazy?”
He shook his head. “I’ve heard of visitations. Gram claims that my grandfather came to her right after he died.”
They walked to the bike, and he pulled out some paper towels he probably kept for his graffiti. She dabbed at her face and blew her nose. “I want to see my mom.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I don’t know. The words just came out. Do you mind taking me there, just for a minute?”
“Remember what happened last time.”
“Yes. But this time it’ll be different.”
They rode into the tidy Baltimore neighborhood where the Witherses lived in their tidy brick house.
He pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. “I’ll stay here this time.”
She started to walk toward the door but paused and turned. “No, come with me.”
“If you need me—”
“I don’t need you. I just want
you to come.”
With a nod, he walked to the door with her, though he remained a step behind. She knocked, and a minute later her mother opened the door.
Her dismay and surprise were evident. “You’ve decided to turn yourself in?” She took note of Rand, and her expression hardened even more.
“No. I’ve come to forgive you.”
“Forgive me?” She laughed in that humorless way Zoe knew so well. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Of course, because her mother was perfect. Several smart-assed replies jumped to Zoe’s tongue. Don’t go there. Go on, get it out.
“You live in fear. Fear of what you can’t explain or what you believe God condemns. But sometimes people just assume that something they don’t understand is evil. It’s an easy label. You fear my psychic ability because you don’t understand it. Now that I’ve faced fear, I kind of get that. But your fear doesn’t give you the right to condemn me. My God is merciful, and He accepts and loves us exactly as we are. Last time I came to you, I desperately needed your acceptance, and I wanted your love. I now have acceptance and love from my other family.” She glanced at Rand, who looked both surprised and proud. She turned back to her mother. “And most importantly, I have them from myself. I forgive you, Mom. Not for you, but for me.”
She turned to leave, stopped. “Granddad died this morning. I won’t be able to go to the funeral, since the people who are trying to kill me have set me up as a wanted felon. If you’re half the decent person you pretend to be, you’ll go. And throw a lily in the grave for me.” She didn’t wait for a response but walked away.
Rand followed, and when they reached the bike, he silently clapped. All right, his approval did fill her with a rush of emotion, but mostly because she didn’t need it anymore. His or anyone’s approval. As they pulled away into the sunny spring day, for the first time in her life, she liked herself. She really, totally liked herself.
Once back in the garage, they hung up their helmets and started toward the door. Something stopped her, and she turned to find Rand standing near the ’Cuda.
“What?”
He tilted his head. “You seem different.”
“Well, I’m sad.”
“No, not just that. Something changed when you talked to your mother. Like you let something go.”
She walked back, feeling a curious heaviness flowing through her veins. “I’ve let a lot go. I let go…with you.”
“Take off your makeup.”
She blinked. “Why?”
He opened the motorcycle bag and pulled out a paper towel and a bottle of water, dampening the towel and stepping up to her. Gently, he wiped her face, circling her eyes, sliding it over her mouth. He stepped back and nearly laughed.
“You just smeared my makeup, didn’t you?”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I thought it would come off.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a makeup-remover pad. Leaning in front of the bike’s mirror, she removed the last of it. “Okay, what was that about?”
“It’s time to stop hiding behind all that makeup. That’s not you. It’s your shield. You don’t need it anymore.”
Her heart shifted as her gaze locked with his. “Now you’ve really seen me naked.”
“Oh, yeah.” His smile faded into something much deeper. “Thanks for including me in that scene with your mom.”
She shrugged.
“No, that was…that you wanted me there, during that moment…” He shook his head. “Dammit, Zoe, why do you have to be so incredible?”
She nearly laughed at that, despite the agony she saw on his face. “Thanks…I think.”
He ran his fingers through his dark blond hair, still unspiky. She liked it that way. “That wasn’t a compliment. Lucas, Petra, Amy, even Eric, they’re great, you know. Good people stuck in a bad situation. I could have walked away, though. From them, I could have saved myself and walked. But you…you had to be this sexy, brave, sassy, tender, beautiful person. You had to be the one person I couldn’t walk away from.”
His words filled her with warmth and giddiness and heat and…love. She slid her arms around his neck and in a flirty tone said, “It was when I started throwing things at you psychically, wasn’t it? The towel, the pillow…you couldn’t resist me, could you?”
His arms circled her waist and turned her so she was leaning against the car. “No, it was all the things flying when we had that fantastically crazy sex. That made me wild.” He kissed her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the paper towel he’d used on her face fly across the car.
She could also feel him smile beneath her mouth. She tugged his shirt out of his jeans, and he tossed it over his head. He tore off her tank top, unclipped her bra, and kissed each nipple with such tenderness, she groaned.
He kissed her stomach, dipping his tongue beneath the waistband of her jeans as he unbuttoned and unzipped. She slid out of both those and her panties. She ran her fingers through his soft hair and around his ears, halting him momentarily as he rolled his eyes in pleasure.
He stripped out of his jeans and lifted her onto the hood of the ’Cuda. He spread her legs and ran his finger through her folds as he plunged his tongue into her mouth.
“Now,” she whispered.
He pulled a condom out of the back pocket of the jeans that were lying on the floor and slid it on before positioning himself between her legs.
“I want to make myself perfectly clear.” His hands slid up and down her sides. “I know you’re sad, but I am not comforting you.”
“You already did. I just want you. Just…want…you,” she said again on little breaths, as he teased her folds again.
“Okay, then.” He pulled her to the edge of the hood and slid inside. He filled her perfectly, and he filled her soul, too. She moved with him, her arms around his shoulders, her mouth kissing his.
“We need to do this in the tomb so we can stay longer,” he said breathlessly.
“We can do that,” she said in the same way. “Again. As soon as I…”
She felt that delicious swirling pressure build inside her, exploding and shaking her body.
He let himself go then, ramming into her with a groan that sounded like a mix of pleasure and pain. His fingers dug into her as his orgasm rocked him. She held him close, her face buried in his hair, eyes squeezed tight.
He held her for a few minutes. Then he leaned back to look at her. “You know the most hair-raising thing I’ve faced since those guys grabbed me at the casino?”
“Being shot at? Running for your life?”
“Falling in love with you.”
Those words swept through her, stronger than the orgasm. “I love you, too.” A grin broke out on her face.
“What?”
“It’s just funny. There you were, pretending to be a good guy with Ruby, not even realizing that you really are a good guy.”
“We’d better get down.” He pulled out and wrapped the condom in the paper towel she’d sent flying. He picked up her clothing and handed it to her, then got dressed.
Just before he opened the door, he turned back. “Oh, and be gentle with me, okay?”
“Gentle?”
“This will be my first tattoo, you know.”
“You’re going to get the Blue Eye?”
He rolled his eyes. “Can’t be the only one in the family without one.”
Epilogue
T
hat night the Rogues lit a candle in honor of Zoe’s granddad. They stood in the living room around a white candle that was sitting on the floor. The flickering flame cast undulating shadows on the artwork that covered the walls. The rose scent of the candle filled the room. One by one, they linked hands. Eric hesitated but finally took the hands that were outstretched to him. On his perch, Orn’ry sang the chorus of “Fire,” sounding more like Elmer Fudd than Bruce Springsteen.
Amy put her finger over her mouth. “Shh.”
Zoe whispered a prayer and blew out the
candle.
Eric was the first to release his hands and move out of the circle. “This whoo-whoo stuff is too weird for me.”
Petra slid her arm around Zoe’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” Even in this sacred moment, though, she obviously couldn’t resist smoothing a lock of Zoe’s hair.
Eric eyed Zoe’s and Rand’s linked hands, but he hadn’t said anything—yet. He would, though, when the timing was better.
Amy walked over and took Zoe’s hands. “I want to try to talk to him, tell him about your father.”
“You’d do that? After what happened with Gladstone?”
Amy nodded. “I need a picture.”
Zoe went to her purse and took a photo out of her wallet. “Roger Stoker.”
She, Rand, and Amy walked into her bedroom. Lucas followed, protective of his love. Zoe glanced at Rand. Now she had someone to protect her, too. Someone to protect as well. She gave his hand a squeeze.
Amy lay down on the bed, patting the surface to indicate that Zoe sit next to her. Amy studied the photo, a soft smile on her face. “He was a handsome man.”
“A good man.”
Holding the picture, Amy laid her hands on her stomach and closed her eyes. She shifted, getting comfortable. Rand sat behind Zoe, sliding his arm across her collarbone. Lucas smiled at the gesture, though his smile didn’t reach his haunted eyes.
Several minutes went by. Petra started to crack her knuckles but stopped immediately. She began braiding her hair instead. Amy’s eyes twitched beneath her closed lids. Her mouth moved slightly, though no sound came out. Then it curved. She nodded.
Zoe could hardly breathe. Was Amy talking to her granddad? Sensing Zoe’s excitement, Rand tightened his arm around her. She shared a smile with him, but her gaze went back to Amy.
Several minutes later, Amy’s eyes opened. Lucas helped her to sit up. “I tried really hard not to slip into REM,” she said.
Zoe leaned forward. “Did you…?”
Amy nodded. “He sends his love.”
“What about my father? You told him—”
“He already knows. He’s with your father, Zoe. And your father was there, too. He said he’s been watching out for you.” Amy looked at Rand. “And he approves.”