Bone Driven

by Hailey Edwards

  A lame excuse, yeah, but I needed a few moments alone to process the ramifications of moving forward with my little coup. Locking Sariah in a cell would piss off War. That gave me warm fuzzies right there. But if she wanted to play double agent… maybe we should let her.

  After we microchipped her ten ways from Sunday, of course.

  Bloodthirsty as she was, I got the feeling it would take more than light stabbing, a little poison, and a broken jaw to rain on her sadistic parade. Hell, Sariah might view waking in an NSB cell under guard as the opening volley in our negotiations. She had made the first strike, after all. She must have known I would retaliate.

  “Sure.” Miller massaged his throat as though reminded of the pressure from the blade. “We can babysit.”

  Thom, noticing the same rubbing gesture, cocked his head. “I should bite him, just in case.”

  I exited on Miller’s sigh as he stuck out his hand. Up in my room, I pulled out my luggage and packed nothing but clothes and toiletries. There was no need for mementoes where I was going. The movers, when they came, could pack it all up as far as I was concerned. The one item I lingered over was the old rotary phone. Its hideousness was a comfort, but I had no intentions of relying on it, or the mystery man on the other side of it, for much longer. Come the big two-six, I planned to have run Ezra to ground.

  Happy birthday to me.

  “Do you need any help?”

  The sound of Cole’s voice did what it always did, and made me tighten and loosen all over. “I’ll take what I can get.” And didn’t that convey a multitude of meanings? “Has Kapoor made his pickup yet?”

  “You missed the stampeding wildebeests?” Cole slung a bag over his shoulder and tucked two more under one arm. “Your hearing must be worse than I thought.”

  “Ha ha.” I punched him in the arm since his were too full to retaliate and almost cracked a knuckle. “What are you doing here?”

  His expression shifted through the spectrum before settling on cautious. “Am I not welcome?”

  “I think we both know you’re always welcome.” Traitorous thing, my heart. It stutter-stepped when he smiled at me like that. “What I meant was – you stayed up with me all night. I figured you’d go to the bunkhouse and crash. Santiago is with Portia, right?”

  “He is.” Cole angled his head in my direction. “After last night, I thought you could use someone to lean on.”

  Catching this surly dragon by his tail was irresistible. “I have Miller and Thom.”

  His shrewd eyes narrowed on my face. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  I linked my hands behind my back, the picture of innocence. “Say what?”

  “Use me,” he rumbled, meltwater eyes stark in his face. “I want you to use me.”

  I crossed to him, rose up on my tiptoes, and pressed a brief kiss to the underside of his jaw, the prickly patch of skin quickly becoming my favorite spot. “I would be honored.”

  A slight curve bent his lips. “I’ll meet you outside.”

  Alone in my room, I strolled the perimeter, ending up at the window Wu had made his perch. Far below, Cole was loading my belongings in the back of his SUV, and I paused to admire his casual strength. Hand pressed against the glass, the chill barrier acted as a reminder of the fragility of his trust, how easily it could be broken.

  The house was empty as I passed through each room, flipping off lights and unplugging appliances. When I reached the front door, I leaned my forehead against the wood and listened to the stillness.

  “You were the best home a girl could ask for,” I told the house. “I’m going to miss you.”

  After dashing tears from under my eyes, I locked the door behind me and met the guys in the yard.

  “Luce and I are going to hold vigil with her aunt,” Cole announced with an edge in his voice that had the other two clamping their mouths shut. “Miller, drop her luggage off at the bunkhouse. She can take my room. Thom, you shadow us.”

  We each went our separate ways, Cole and I reuniting inside the Bronco. I sat there for a minute, gazing out the window at the lovely, old farmhouse where a gruff cop had brought a feral child and made a family with her.

  Out of time to reminisce, I drove us across town to Mo Jones’ house. Mo-Mo was Aunt Nancy’s best friend, and I had no doubt the Jones house was where I would find her. Sure enough, when I reached the sprawling blue clapboard home on the outskirts of town, I counted two dozen vehicles in the yard and enough bodies milling on the low porch to be certain folks from the church had carpooled to be here during her time of need.

  The walk up to the front door was one of the longest of my life. I had no right to be here, but Aunt Nancy didn’t know what loving me had cost her. As far as she was concerned, I was the dutiful niece who had come home to witness chaos, not the churning heart of the storm.

  Cole’s fingers brushed over my knuckles, a show of support, but we didn’t connect.

  Talk about a metaphor for our relationship.

  “Lu-Lu,” a breathy voice called from down the porch. “Hey, doll face. I wondered when you’d show.” A wisp of a woman with light-brown skin and a bald head she’d decorated with henna tattoos that changed each week shuffled bodies aside to reach me. “She’s upstairs, third bedroom to your left. I’d walk you up but —” she glanced around the gathering “— the whole community has come out to offer their condolences, and Nan is exhausted from the first wave. I’m doing my best to give everyone an outlet while she recovers.”

  “Thanks.” I looked back at Cole. “I’m going to check on her. Would you mind waiting in the car?”

  The crowd would make him uncomfortable and vice versa. There was no reason for him to suffer.

  He invaded my personal space. “I’m coming with you.”

  “He can go up too.” Mo-Mo patted his arm, and Cole did his best not to wince. Contact with strangers wasn’t his favorite thing either. “I don’t blame him for worrying about you after all that’s happened. He’s a good man to want to keep an eye on you until the monster responsible for Harry’s death is captured.”

  I flinched so hard I rocked backward, right against Cole. Mo-Mo’s eyes softened as she measured the two of us, her thoughts clear on her face. She thought I was seeking comfort from my boyfriend instead of reeling from the unintentional blow she had landed.

  “Speaking of good men…” Her hand lifted to toy with the gold cross at her throat. “How is your father?”

  “He’s resting comfortably.” A stock phrase if ever I’d uttered one. “Thanks for asking.”

  Breaking away from Mo-Mo, I led Cole through a packed foyer toward a staircase that belonged in Gone with the Wind. We climbed up to the second floor, and I would have known where to find Aunt Nancy even without the directions. A dozen women lingered in the hall, handkerchiefs in hand, and their red-rimmed eyes snapped wide at our approach.

  “I’m here for Aunt Nancy.” I inched toward the door when none of them blinked. The warm presence at my back alerted me to the issue. “This is my friend, Cole Heaton.”

  The ladies nodded their heads in tandem, a row of bobble head figures tapped by a greater hand, their voices tight and high as in unison they remembered there was somewhere else they needed to be and made their apologies.

  “I’ll wait for you out here.” Cole posted himself at the door. “Take as long as you need.”

  Grateful he was here with me, that I didn’t have to face this alone, I lingered with him, studying the many-times-broken nose, the ragged ear, the jaw harder than a diamond. “They were scared of you.”

  Mt. Heaton gazed down at me through eyes the color of glacier melt. “That bothers you.”

  “Not how you think, no.” I pursed my lips in search of what I wanted to say. “Their reactions reminded me of when we first met is all. It got me wondering when I stopped being afraid.”

  Amusement seesawed across his mouth. “You greeted me barefoot in your pajamas. That was all the armor you donned to
face down a dragon.”

  “Yeah, well. I didn’t know you were a dragon at the time.” I smoothed my hands down my pants, acknowledging the procrastination tactic for what it was, and poised my knuckles to knock. “Never let it be said that I’m afflicted with common sense.”

  Aunt Nancy offered muffled assent for me to enter, and I shuffled across the threshold into the darkened bedroom. The light was off, and the drapes had been closed. She reclined on the bed, her gaze fixated on the ceiling like there was a whole world up there for her to explore. Her ankles were crossed, and her hands were folded at her navel. Her peaceful repose sent ice crystalizing down my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae.

  “I married Harry when I was eighteen years old, fresh out of high school. We’ve been married forty-six years. Our babies are forty-two and thirty-nine this year. Our grandbabies are ten and six. He was your father’s partner for thirty-five years. He was your uncle for fifteen.”

  As she made her recitation, I drifted closer until I could sit on the bed beside her and hold her cool hand.

  “That sounds like a lot of years, a lot of time,” she murmured. “It wasn’t enough.” Her eyes closed, and tears spilled down her temples. “It wasn’t nearly enough.”

  “I miss him already,” I said, just as softly. “Dad doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell him when I see him.”

  Her lips trembled as she mashed them together. “How is Eddie?”

  “Resting comfortably,” I repeated the company line. “He hasn’t woken up yet, but the doctors are hopeful he will regain consciousness in the next day or so.”

  “That’s good.” She dragged in a long breath as if reminding her lungs to get with the program. “Are the boys on their way?” Her lids cracked open. “You would have called them. You’re always so thoughtful.”

  “Jamal will be here tonight. I’m going to pick him up at the airport myself. Elliot has to make arrangements for his pets and get the kids packed up, so he’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

  “Has the person who…?” Her fragile throat worked over a lump. “Has there been any news?”

  “Not that I’ve heard.” I was out of the CPD loop. The only way I could get updates without making a bad situation worse would be to involve Santiago. And nothing they uncovered would implicate the true villain, whether that was Famine or me, I hadn’t yet decided. “I’ll ask Rixton to keep you in the loop.” He would do that for her sake. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, tater tot,” she sighed deeply. “I’m fine where and how I am.”

  The ballooning sense of dread in my heart kept expanding. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a little while?”

  “Not at all.” Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I’m just going to rest now.”

  “All right.” I restrained myself from texting her sons with urgent messages to hurry when I had no reason to believe her languor was due to more than exhaustion and heartache. Unable to shake the warning prickles that portended nothing good, I checked on Cole. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His rigid posture relaxed. “How is she?”

  “Not well,” I said under my breath, certain he would hear. “I can’t shake this feeling I’m going to lose her too.”

  He gave an understanding nod. “Death forces us all the view life through the lens of our own mortality.”

  Once again, the assurance she would recover, that I was overreacting, never surfaced, and I was almost glad. I wouldn’t have believed him anyway.

  “I’m going back in.” I checked my phone. “We have about four hours until we pick up Jamal.”

  “I’ll be right here,” he assured me. “Go sit with your aunt.”

  The hours passed in slow motion, the rise and fall of her chest my only entertainment. I had my phone. I could have played a game or watched a movie, but I had this ridiculous idea that my gaze was the only weight pinning her down, that if I looked away, even for a second, she would drift off to wherever she had been staring.

  The silent alarm I’d set buzzed in my pocket, and I had a choice to make.

  Aware I was being utterly ridiculous, I crossed to Aunt Nancy and pressed a kiss to her smooth forehead. “I love you.” The steady flutter of her pulse gave me the strength the leave. “I’ll be back soon with Jamal. You won’t be alone. I’ll send Mo-Mo up to sit with you until we return.”

  Cole peeled away from the door when I walked through it, and we made our way downstairs. The house still hummed with voices, music, and laughter. I scanned each room we passed in search of Mo-Mo, but found her on the porch knitting with a circle of their friends.

  “I’m going to pick up Jamal,” I told her. “Would you mind keeping watch over Aunt Nancy until I get back?” I worried my teeth over my bottom lip. “She just seems…”

  Without another word, Mo-Mo bundled up her gear. “She’ll be right as rain once her boys get here. Those grandbabies of hers always put a spark in her eyes.” Her smile widened. “Oh, and John called. He’s coming for a visit before work tomorrow.”

  “That’s great.” As good and pissed as he rightfully was at me, I hadn’t expected Rixton to show up on my doorstep with a shoulder for me to cry on, but a text from him would have been nice. Still, I was grateful he hadn’t abandoned my family, even if he had cut ties with me. “That’s… great.”

  As Mo-Mo trundled past, I wasted no time heading for the Bronco. I could tell from the stares that Cole was right there with me. We made the drive to the airport in record time, and Jamal, who was the spitting image of Uncle Harold, cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “How is she?”

  “I left her napping.” I eased from his grip to stand beside Cole. “She was tired when I arrived, there have been so many visitors. We didn’t talk long.”

  “Who’s your friend?” Jamal was sizing up Cole, and despite his grim eyes, a tight smile manifested.

  “This is Cole Heaton.” I touched his arm. “Cole, this is Jamal Trudeau, the baby of the family.”

  “You must like this one if you’re out to discredit me from the get-go.” Jamal extended his hand and shook Cole’s meaty paw. “I’m glad you’re here, man. What Luce walked in on…” He ducked his head. “That couldn’t have been easy for her. I’m grateful she has a friend at her back.” His brows gathered. “Where’s John?”

  A baseball bat to the solar plexus would have hurt less. “I haven’t spoken to him today.”

  For several days, longer than any stretch in our partnership. Former partnership.

  “Oh.” Perceptive man that he was, he let the matter drop. “I touched base with Elliot. He’ll be here around noon with the fam in tow.”

  The overnight bag slung across his shoulder was all the luggage he’d brought with him, so we didn’t have to wait at the baggage claim. After grabbing him a coffee for the trip out to Mo-Mo’s, we piled into the Bronco and drove in heavy silence.

  The uneasy feeling that had plagued me since visiting Aunt Nancy started wringing my stomach out like a wet towel. The frenetic buzzing of mourners torqued me further still, and that was before I spotted the white box on wheels with the seizure-inducing strobes splashing color across so many pale faces.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Jamal breathed. “Stop the car. Luce, stop.”

  I slammed on the brakes, and he leapt from the Bronco. I had the presence of mind to make sure I wasn’t blocking the road in case the ambulance needed an escape route, but the other vehicles got no such consideration from me as I left the Bronco wedged behind four other cars and bolted after Jamal.

  We hit the porch at the same time the paramedics exited with a stretcher. The still form under a white sheet required no introduction, and Jamal crumpled. His knees hit the deck, and his palms slapped in front of him. The only thing preventing a total collapse was Mo-Mo, who had seen him coming and wrapped her arms around his middle.

  “What happened?” He choked out the demand. “I don’t understand. I don’t…”

  “Sir.” The paramedic nearest him shared a look with
her partner, who nodded. “Mrs. Trudeau was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer three months ago. The information was on her emergency medical identification bracelet.”

  Jamal was shaking his head, but I had lost all mobility.

  Cancer.

  The answer to an unasked question had just been provided to me.

  Guilt had been riding me so hard, I hadn’t stopped to ask myself the most basic question. Why would my uncle, a God-fearing man, offer up his soul? What could a charun have offered him that made the use of his body, accepting the taint of what he must have viewed as such evil, worthwhile? There was only one reason why he would have given himself unto Famine, and that was love.