Cutting Ties (Book 2) (Piper Anderson Series)

by Danielle Stewart

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “What did you do, Bobby?” Jules fired the accusation at him like a dart. “Why is she leaving?”

  “It’s complicated, Jules, she just couldn’t stay here right now.” Bobby’s head was low and, though she hadn’t seen it in years, she could tell by the arch of his back and the crack in his voice that he was crying.

  “Go get her,” she demanded, pointing out into the driveway.

  “Maybe he won’t have to,” Michael said hopefully as two headlights cut through the darkness that had gathered as a storm rolled in.

  Bobby’s head shot up and he squinted to identify the car, maybe she was coming back—maybe. But when the silver pickup truck rumbled closer, he knew it wasn’t her.

  “Hey,” Michael said, stepping off the porch and greeting the man who was a stranger to everyone but him.

  “Your receptionist gave me the address, I hope that’s okay. I haven’t been able to reach you, and she said you might be out here.” The two men shook hands and Jules took note of the man’s posture, moving like he had a steel rod in his back. Maybe he was an old Marine buddy of Michael’s, she thought.

  As she saw what stepped out of the car behind the stranger it all became clear, and she smiled. She grabbed the black clutch she’d had at the funeral and fumbled around for the tattered papers from Agent Carlson that Piper had discarded. She listened intently as the man explained the frustrating situation to Michael, and then she made her move. She was with Piper on this all the way, and now maybe they’d have some company.

  * * *

  As Piper drove down the winding road away from Betty’s and back toward her apartment, her mind flashed through the events that had brought them to this point. She thought back to the first evening she and Bobby had spent swinging together on Betty’s porch, the moment he kissed her on her front steps, the first time they’d made love. And, like always, thoughts of the man she had always believed was her father crept in. He was as invasive as a weed. Every time she’d tried to stomp him out and push him down, he’d pop right back up. She heard his words echoing in her head. You’re just like me, you know this life is a joke; you know you’ll never be one of those normal people with a happy life, so why bother? Why fight it?

  Maybe his blood wasn’t running through her veins, but he was still the man who had tormented her, beaten her—shaped her. When the voices in her head grew too loud and the tears were coming too fast for her to see straight she pulled her car to the side of the road. She wanted to turn around; she wanted to go back. She wanted to be able to love Bobby and she wanted Bobby to be able to love her. She dropped her head to her steering wheel, her shoulders trembling with the sobs she couldn’t control. The cold icy rain had held off all afternoon and started now; all she could think was, bring on the storm.

  The rain had begun tapping loudly on her windshield. She’d sit here, she decided, crying while it poured, and when it passed, she’d find a way to pull herself together. She’d let this storm carry her sadness away with it, but for now, as it raged on, she’d give in to it. With her head still propped on her steering wheel and the rain still beating on the roof, she didn’t hear the car pull up behind her.

  She heard nothing but her own crying and the sad song playing on the radio until the knock on her window that was too loud to be rain, sent her jumping in fear. Jules stood there, soaked through with rain, her black funeral dress clinging to her, and mascara running down her face.

  She was still recovering from the shock of being startled, still wiping the hot tears from her face, when Jules shouted over the pounding rain. “Don’t go,” she yelled, putting her hand to the glass, pleading with her eyes. “Please don’t leave.”

  “I have to. It’s over,” Piper shouted back through the closed window, her voice cracking with tears. Finally she hit the button and lowered the window.

  “No it’s not,” Jules said, crouching down to get closer to Piper. “He just needs time to figure out how to not be an idiot.” Jules didn’t realize the magnitude of the situation. She didn’t know what happened to Bobby as a child, and she didn’t know what happened in the cabin that day. Piper wanted to tell her she didn’t understand, but hell, Piper hardly understood any of it either.

  Jules put up her finger indicating that she needed a minute. She ran back to her car and returned with a familiar four-legged friend. Bruno came traipsing through the rain to Piper’s car. “After you left, Michael’s dog-training buddy came by. He said that you ruined Bruno. Whatever you did to him, he won’t perform any of his tasks anymore. He’s useless to them. I didn’t know it was possible, but you wrecked a dog,” Jules laughed, looking even wilder as the rain whipped her red hair around her face. “He said he tried to find him a few homes, but the people kept bringing him back saying the dog was depressed. The only time he showed any sign of happiness was when he was laying on the blanket you gave him. Apparently he misses you so much he’s miserable. Once I heard that, saw this glum dog, I realized I couldn’t let you go off on your own.”

  Piper couldn’t fight the happiness that spread across her face as she extended her arm out the window and reached down to scratch Bruno behind the ear. She looked up at Jules, not sure about her next move. Was Jules suggesting she take care of Bruno? Did she even want to take Bruno along? “I need to go. I can’t stay here right now. I need to go to New York and get right with some of this. See where it leads me.” She reached even further out of the car and got a better hold on Bruno, who seemed elated to be reunited.

  “Good,” Jules said, shocking Piper with her curt response. Had she really been swayed so easily into letting Piper go? “I’ve always wanted to see New York. And I think Bruno would be a great city dog.” Jules cut in front of the car, the headlights making her wet, red hair glow like fire. She pulled open the door and let Bruno into the back seat, then flopped into the passenger seat, ignoring the shocked look on Piper’s face. “Let’s go find you a family,” she shouted with all her southern charm, slapping Piper on the leg.

  “You’re coming with me? Right now? Isn’t there a whole bag full of beauty products and ten suitcases full of clothes you’d need? You also have a job. ”

  “Come on, Thelma, we’ll get everything we need on the road. Life’s too short to stop and pack. And we’ll just call in a favor to that nice FBI agent. I’m sure he’ll have no problem making sure my job is there when I get home and if not, who cares?” The smile faded a little from Jules’s perfect peach lips. “You’re like a sister to me, Piper. I’m not ready to let you go. So if you’re leaving, I’m coming, too.” Jules pulled the note from Carlson out and placed it in Piper’s hand.

  Nothing about this was logical. They had absolutely no idea where they’d be heading, where they would stay, or what exactly they were looking for. Piper imagined Michael would be furious at their spontaneity and Betty might be slighted for being left out of the fun. There was so much to think about, so much left undone. And when there are that many things telling you not to do something, you only have one choice. Drive.

  “Just to be clear, I am definitely Louise. Thelma was the troublemaker,” Piper said as she put the car in gear and spun the tires in the icy mud.

  Epilogue

  As Chris made his way through the entrance of the university Admissions Office he knew he was in for it. The good deed he had just finished wasn’t going to earn him any points with the banshee of a boss he was about to face. Calling in for two sick days with next to no notice a few weeks into your new job didn’t really bode well for a long career. Not to mention Sydney already couldn’t stand him. She’d been forced to hire him by the dean of the university. It was part of his relocation that he’d be provided with a cover and employment. They had assumed he couldn’t get himself into much trouble at a Catholic university. The idea of that, in contrast to what he had just done back in Edenville, made him laugh.

  “Feeling better, Mr. King?” Sydney asked sarcastically. She was a nerd. That was blatantly cle
ar to Chris as he looked at her: studious-looking rectangular, brown-framed glasses, hair half up in a clumsily placed clip, and constantly pursed lips. She was a tight ass, which Chris always smirked about when it came to mind because even in her loose, frumpy slacks he could tell that she actually did have a tight ass. Sydney was everything he had despised in a woman when he was younger. She was strong-willed, opinionated, and in power. His father, well, every man in his life actually, had taught him that these qualities were unattractive and dangerous. Even still, as he took a seat across from her, ready for a lecture on attendance, he found himself half excited.

  “I’d like to apologize for calling in sick so soon after starting my position. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and my absence hasn’t helped that. So, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Chris hung his head submissively. This was a new role for him. Since his father died, he’d been the boss. He’d held many lives in his hands, and now he was taking marching orders from some twenty-something geek, and part of him loved it. It was a true testament to how different his life was now. It was proof that things had changed.

  “I’ve worked here for six years,” Sydney scoffed, “and I’ve missed only two days of work after recovering from surgery.”

  “Nose job?” Chris quipped, feeling like this moment needed some humor. He had just returned from killing a killer. He had just evened up the life for a life debt he had with Bobby. He felt good, and he wanted to laugh. More than that, he wanted to make this prude laugh, too.

  “Excuse me?” Sydney slammed her hand down on her desk. “I have no idea why they twisted my arm to hire you. You are crude and barely qualified to be part of this department. If it were in my control, I’d have you packing up your desk this afternoon.” Sydney’s face was crimson, her eyes were boring holes through him, and all he could think was, Bring it on. Let’s see those fireworks in your eyes. Give me all you’ve got.

  Before she could continue, the door to Sydney’s office swung open so hard the knob slammed into the wall behind it. Chris spun around in his chair as a tall blond-haired man stormed in. He had the body of a jock and the vacant dull-eyed look to match. Judging by the look on Sydney’s face, a mixture of anger and fear, he could tell the man was looking for her, and things were about to get ugly.

  “I can see you’re still being a ball-busting bitch, Sydney. Some things never change.” The man walked with purpose past Chris and around the desk toward Sydney, who stood up and gestured for the door.

  “Caleb, you need to leave. You know I have a restraining order, and you are not allowed on school property. I’m asking you nicely to go, but if you don’t I will call the police.” He grabbed her arm that was directing him toward the door and pulled her up against his body, jerking her forward violently. At that, Chris rose and cleared his throat calmly.

  It drew the man’s attention and he shouted at Chris, “Get the hell out of here, this has nothing to do with you.”

  “Actually, I was in the middle of a meeting. So why don’t you go? It sounds like, of the two of us, I’m the one without a legal obligation to leave.” Chris didn’t make a move for the man, he did nothing but stand his ground confidently. Over the years he’d learned that a calm expression in the face of danger made more impact than an angry one.

  The man reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a kitchen knife and waved it in Chris’s direction. Sydney let out a shrill yelp, and he jerked her forward again. “How about I cut off your damn head and mail it to your mother? Get the hell out of here.”

  Chris smirked wryly at the man. Sydney’s eyes were wild and wet with tears, but as she caught a glimpse of Chris’s rebellious indifference to the danger, she quieted her whimpering. Maybe he knew something she didn’t.

  “First of all, you couldn’t cut someone’s head off with that blade. It’s dull and much too short. It would take a whole day to get through the spinal cord. You don’t have that kind of time. Second, my mother, God rest her soul,” Chris said, making the sign of the cross as he spoke, “died five years ago alongside my father. She wouldn’t be there to receive the package. Not to mention the US Postal Service has numerous check points to ensure body parts and other illegal items aren’t shipped. I learned that the hard way.” He paused and shook his head at the memory.

  “And finally, the likelihood that you’d even have the stomach to handle a severed head long enough to package it in bubble wrap is slim. Long story short, your plan doesn’t seem very plausible. Do you have another idea? Perhaps we can brainstorm a bit.” Chris had been in countless scenarios like this before. He had earned a notorious reputation for being a smart ass when everyone else was shitting their pants in fear.

  “I could just stab you,” the man shouted, jabbing the knife closer to Chris, “and then I’ll kill her. This bitch deserves it for what she did to me.” He pointed the knife back toward Sydney, and Chris knew the situation was reaching a climax. He had hoped campus security would be on scene but he heard no sign of them.

  “I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.” Chris reached down slowly and pulled his concealed Walther P99 pistol from the holster on his ankle. He knew the kid with the knife was not a professional. He’d probably never stared down a gun before, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Chris to be carrying one. “If you stab me, I’m going to shoot you. Do you know how many men I’ve shot in my life? Quite a few. How many people have you stabbed with your steak knife? You seem like a smart kid,” Chris said, furrowing his brows and raising his arm to point the gun at the man’s head. “Why don’t you let her go? Otherwise, there’ll be a cleaning crew in here tonight scraping your brain matter off the walls.”

  The man shifted Sydney in front of himself and put the blade up to her neck. She fought back the urge to scream as cold steel pressed into her skin. Her eyes met Chris’s and he could see her fighting to stay composed.

  “I don’t really mind shooting her,” Chris said offhandedly. “I’m pretty sure she was about to fire me. So if you want to use her as a human shield and think that’s going to stop me, you have me confused with some do-gooder cop. I’m not a cop. I’m the opposite of a cop. I’m the guy who shoots you right in the face, just to see your teeth fly out of your mouth. I’m the guy that gets off watching you gasp for your last breath, knowing I’m the one who took it from you. You with your steak knife, you’re not that guy. So, because I’d like to make it home for dinner tonight instead of dealing with all the bullshit that will come from killing you, this is your last chance. Let her go, put the knife down, and go sit in that chair until the cops come to haul your ass away. Or you can die. Take a good look around this room. Is this the last place you want to see before I kill you?” Chris could see beads of sweat gathering on the man’s forehead. His hand was shaking now, his knuckles were white where they gripped the black handle of his knife. He loosened his hold on Sydney and shoved her down into her office chair. He backed up slowly, dropping the knife onto the floor and moving to the chair in the corner of the room. He was crying now, sobbing incoherent apologies.

  Sydney didn’t move, she locked eyes with Chris and sat completely still. He had expected her to be shaking, wailing, maybe even run into his arms. Instead she seemed almost as frightened of him as she had been of the man with the knife.

  “Put the gun down,” a man shouted as he entered the room. Chris lowered his gun to the floor and raised his arms over his head. The officer approached him and secured the gun then proceeded to forcefully cuff him.

  “Wait,” cried Sydney, “he didn’t do anything wrong. He saved my life. That man, Caleb, he came in here with a knife and threatened to kill me. Chris stopped him.” It was the first time Sydney had called him by anything other than Mr. King, and he loved how his name sounded on her lips. The officer told Chris to take a seat but didn’t make a move to remove the handcuffs. It didn’t matter though. He’d perfected sitting comfortably while restrained. It was a regular event in his old life.

  Two more officers entered
the room, and there was an enormous amount of commotion and chatter as Sydney frantically tried to explain the situation. She grew more and more upset as the officers began to read Chris his rights. “What has he done? He saved my life, you can’t arrest him.”

  The oldest of the officers in the room approached Sydney, trying to calm her. “Ma’am I completely understand how upsetting this is, and the courage Mr. King showed here today is admirable. But firearms are banned from campus. Illinois does not allow concealed carry, and on top of that he does not have a Firearm’s Owner Identification Card. He’s violated a significant number of laws here today by carrying that weapon. We don’t have a choice but to arrest him. I’ve got a supervisor en route now. He’ll hopefully be able to advise us on the best way to handle this very unique situation. In the meantime, Officer Krito will stay here with both of you while my partner and I book Caleb. I’m very sorry, Mr. King, and I do hope this works out well for you. I believe you saved lives today.” The man tipped his head apologetically at both of them as he led Caleb, still sobbing, out of the room.

  Sydney sat down next to Chris and put her hand on his leg, immediately realizing that was far too intimate. It was too late though, pulling it away suddenly would look far more inappropriate than letting it linger there. “I am so sorry. Caleb is my ex-boyfriend. I’ve been dealing with him for so long, but I never thought it would come to this. I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you from getting in trouble. My uncle is a skip tracer. He works with these guys all the time. Maybe he can pull some strings.” Sydney was talking so quickly that she wasn’t catching enough breath to keep her from getting lightheaded.