by Paula Cox
Learning from her mistake, Miranda dropped her voice low, “How do you know it's Jack's?”
“Timing and I haven't been with anyone since.”
“Really?” Incredulity puckered at her thoughts. Her friend was constantly using and losing men. She had a faster turnover rate than most retail workplaces. Did Jack mean something to her? The thought made Miranda's heart jitter in pleasant heat. Naomi finding someone she loved, absolutely and dearly, had been an event she looked forward to. Too bad it involved bikers running away from a life-threatening situation.
Naomi hissed, not even perturbed by Miranda's surprise, “Yes!”
Silence fell. The bathroom suddenly felt hot and stuffy. Miranda reached over to the switches, flicking on the fan. The mechanisms clanked and creaked to life, buzzing like an oversized hornet above their heads. “Does Jack know?”
“No,” muttered Naomi, hanging her head. The woman sounded on the verge of tears. She sniffed loudly and wiped something away from her eye.
Miranda clasped at her friend's shoulder. Tears swelled in her own eyes. She could just imagine Naomi's thoughts and worries mirrored her own. “Okay. What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” She wailed, her hands digging into her blonde tresses. She pulled away and paced the length of the small bathroom. Once she perched herself on the edge of the bathtub, she whined, “I don't know. When Jack came back, I thought maybe he'd stay, but then all of...” She trailed off and waved her hand around, “This happened.”
“I know what you mean,” sighed Miranda as she sat down on the toilet lid. A silence descended again. The heat in the bathroom didn't alleviate much, but the fan cranked a small breeze.
Miranda's options looped through her head: stay in Legacy and risk death or escape over the border. Her gaze flickered to Naomi. Beautiful, blonde, pregnant Naomi who was currently biting her bottom lip and fending off tears. She couldn't leave her behind.
But, she'd be a fool to think that was the only reason.
Her stomach flipped and she drew her gaze away from her friend, as if she could read her thoughts. Miranda wanted to stay with Tyler. She wanted to help him. She didn't care the price. In her head, her family spewed degradation and disappointment. In her heart, however, warmth pounded through her arteries. She'd never forgive herself if any of them died while she was sunning on a beach in Italy or eating bonbons in France.
“We should get back out there,” breathed Miranda, knowing her choice had been made. She glanced at Naomi from the corner of her eye. “We should talk to the guys.”
Naomi's gaze flickered up and then to the door. Apprehension twisted through her limbs. Her blue glaze hardened, a decision met and she stood. “Yeah, let's get out there.”
* * *
As soon as Miranda and Naomi stepped into the bank, co-workers and regulars flanked around them. The questions hurtled out of mouths. The scent of perfume and cologne tinged the air, making Miranda's nerves even sicker than they already were.
“Are you okay?”
“What was wrong?”
“Are those stitches?”
Naomi answered, with a polite smile plastered to her lips, “Yes, I'm fine. The doctors aren't sure what was wrong. Yeah, I needed a couple stitches from bonking my head on the counter.”
The chatter all sounded like a dull roar in Miranda's ears, though. She needed to get to her office and get a work-at-home laptop. The work-from-home program was underway for expectant mothers, instituted by Miranda's sister-in-law. As such, the laptops were stored in her office, in a secured cabinet only she had a key for.
At the soonest possible moment, she peeled herself away from the group of well-wishers. Naomi could handle them on her own. Once she padded over to her office, she quietly closed the door and flicked on the light. Someone was bound to ask her why she was taking a laptop home and she didn't want any over-concerned busybody informing her family. It would only be a matter of time until they heard about Tyler being back in town. Again.
Her office was just the way she had left it – droll and boring. Her eyes flickered onto the almost unseen seam in the wall. Digging the key out of her packet, Miranda advanced on the wall. It was a fake covering for the cabinet where security objects were kept: lost debit cards found around town, résumés for every tier of employment, laptops, USB sticks for information tech, forms for large withdrawals or deposits that required her presence. Her fingers pried at the seam and, with effort, she managed bend the wall outward. Clasps finally gave way and the wall swung out toward her. Behind the false wall, was the unremarkable face of a grey cabinet.
An itch scurried across her flesh, as if the inanimate object peered at her dubiously. She shoved the key into the keyhole and turned. The tumblers fell away with a cacophony of clicks.
“Mi-Miranda?”
“What is-” She stopped mid-sentence after her gaze swung to the doorway. Standing in the doorjamb was Naomi, assisted by a familiar scowl. Baldie leered at her from behind a pain of new, unbroken sunglasses.
She scurried into the office, almost throwing herself across the floor as Baldie stepped, nonchalantly, into the room. Miranda scuttled closer to her friend, hoisting her onto her feet. He closed the door behind him. Quietly, the lock slid into place, a threatening promise on the silent air. She got the innate feeling his gaze swung around her office with disdain. “So, where's your lovers?”
Miranda gathered her false sense of bravado. “Those losers? No clue.”
“Losers? Come now,” Baldie's features flashed to Miranda's face. Behind his sunglasses, she could see the lurid glint in his eye, “You don't have low self-esteem.”
He had lost her. “What?”
“Well, I know for a fact you stayed the night at a dinky little motel room with Red.”
Miranda pursed her lips, her cheeks bit with a blush. She tried to will the embarrassment away. Of course she had sex with Tyler; that was a given. Yet, she didn't want this stranger to know the extent of their relationship.
She turned her back on him as she grabbed the laptop and a handful of papers. As a second thought, she also snagged a folder, wrapping it around the computer. If he saw her take a laptop, warning bells would surely go off in his head. She closed the cabinet, but not the faux wall.
Baldie swaggered into the office, the room temperature falling with his every step. He leaned his hip against the desk and peered over his sunglasses at them. His eyes shone sharp and merciless like a hawk leering at prey. “What are you doing now?”
“Why should we tell you?” Naomi huddled close to Miranda's elbow. Waves of frustration and uncertainty emanated from her. Caught between self-preservation for her unborn child's sake and her own temper, Miranda knew Naomi struggled.
“Now, now, now,” Baldie raised his hands as his level voice filled the air, “I don't want to see anything bad happen to you, but, well, Pete wants all loose ends severed, if ya know what I mean.”
Miranda didn't like the smile that quirked at his lips. Obviously, he didn't have many qualms with fulfilling Pete's wishes. Even if that meant offing two women. She suppressed a shudder, wondering what else he might do to them. She steeled herself against the thoughts. Tyler and Jack wouldn't let anything like that happen. Well, while they were alive, at least.
Naomi's eyebrows furrowed, though. “Who's Pete?”
“Playing dumb isn't cute, sweetheart.” Baldie scowled and Miranda could hear his eyes roll. For a tense moment, with silence bubbled between them, they stared each other down. Finally, he tore his gaze away, sighed, and shrugged his huge shoulders. “Well, your only options are to stick by your guys ‘til the bitter end or help me, really.”
Miranda wanted to scoff. Did this guy never hear of passports or foreign countries? Or was he trying to take advantage of their flustered state? Whatever his reason, she didn't need to let on her third option. She teased her voice with faux hope, “Help you?”
“You dolls are close to them. Help me corner them and free
dom is yours,” the man said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
Miranda refrained from pursing her lips. “Why?”
“I'll tell Pete you don't know anything and we'll all be on our happy way.” Baldie gave them a gracious smile, as if he were offering them a bit of charity. “I'll take those nasty boys out of your lives and you'll stay here in this,” he rolled the word off his tongue as if it were bile, “charming town.”
“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Naomi stepped up, but didn't get too far from Miranda “You could double-cross us.”
He raised his hands to his forehead and jerked his fingers in salute. “Scout's honor.”
“That doesn't mean jackshit to me,” growled Miranda. A prickly burr stuck to her thoughts. He had come very close to insulting Legacy, but the intention was there. Still in the air, still in her thoughts.
“Look, I'll be too busy taking those boys back to Pete that you two could do any damn thing you want,” he said as he turned toward Miranda's desk. She tensed, her stomach roiling as he invaded her personal workspace. He rummaged around, tugging a piece of paper from her notepad. The sound of it tearing shrieked through the air. He pulled a pen from a container and scribbled something down. “Get out of town, go somewhere foreign – your family is rich, Ms. Groves – and enjoy your lives without those deadbeats bringing you down.”
Miranda paused, her stomach coiling unhappily. He knew about her family and her third option. Not that it would have taken much to figure that bit out, or find out they were well-off. The fact he had dug so far sent a sick swirl into her stomach. They may not see eye-to-eye with Miranda, but her family was still hers.
He crossed the distance between them, note outstretched. Miranda clutched at the papers and hidden laptop in one hand. Naomi returned to her side, almost glued to her hip. Her gaze dipped from the man's face to the paper he offered. She weighed the options, briefly, before reaching for the note.
Her fingers clasped around the paper, just as the man spoke, “My number. Give me a call if you'd like to wise up.”
As soon as Miranda relieved the information from his hand, he backed away. Despite his size and strength, he apparently thought the two women weren't helpless enough to turn his back on them. As he opened the door, he tossed them a lazy wave and a half-cocked smirk. Soon, he crossed the lobby and disappeared out the front door.
The two women stood in the office, staring at the man as he left. People cast curious glances into the room, looking away quickly as they saw the expressions on their faces. Miranda stared down at the piece of paper. Baldie's presumable cellphone number stained the paper.
She turned sharply back to the cabinet, tucking the paper into the folder with the rest. After securing the cabinet, she gently pushed the fake wall back into place before Naomi spoke. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”
“Which part?”
“About Pete wanting loose ends severed.” Something shook in Naomi's voice.
Miranda's tension eased. Her friend didn't just have her own safety to worry about. She had her child's. Even if all of this ended, would her child be safe? Miranda tried to force a reassuring smile to her lips. “He probably said that to scare us, Naomi.”
Naomi stared out the doorway. Her brows furrowed and her face pale. She swallowed and shook her head, her own halfhearted smile to her lips. “You're right. Do we have everything?”
Miranda nodded, relieved to escape the bank. She waited for someone else to come barging in and threatening their plans, like her father. “Let's go.” She threw one last glance at her office before flicking the light off. Mingling emotions clashed in her head – uncertainty for the future, comfort in the familiar, and sadness having to say goodbye, even temporarily. She tightened her grip on the laptop still hidden in her hands. If she didn't help Tyler, he and Jack would die. Where would that leave her and Naomi? Where would that leave Naomi and Jack's child?
With a sense of purpose, she cut the power to the office and closed the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The four had made it to Miranda's late grandfather's hunting cabin without incident. Taking back roads, it had taken them little over two hours to reach the lodge. The entire ride was silent, save for the wind whipping against their helmets. Throughout the ride, Miranda hugged Tyler tightly, debating with herself.
Naomi's fears warbled through her head. She still hadn't told Jack about the baby. He should really know, before he did something everyone regretted. Miranda’s fingers tangled into Tyler's shirt like the thoughts that tangled up her synapses.
He could feel her uncertainty. Worry and concern dotted his thoughts, but they all had to get to the lodge. Old Man Groves had been a good man. It was a pity the spitfire finally passed. A small bead of regret and woe squeezed at Tyler's thoughts. Miranda's grandpa was the only one in her family who liked him.
As they rolled up to the cabin, the engines cut out. Silence drilled into her ears, startling her from her thoughts. She wrenched the helmet off, the twittering of birds and sounds of the forest filling her ears. Sound resuming settled her frayed nerves.
The cabin was rather large and, from the front, housed six windows. A veranda wrapped around the squat building. Miranda knew, in the back, a small smoking house loomed above what counted as a 'backyard.' Wisps of memories teased and taunted her thoughts. The sound of a rocking chair, long sold. The vaguely cherry-scented pipe smoke. Her stomach churned, as she hopped off the motorcycle.
They didn't speak until they got through the front door. Thankfully, Miranda had a copy of the key. After setting down their bags of supplies, Jack turned to the women, “What's the plan now?”
“This laptop lets me work wherever and gives me access to accounts,” said Miranda as she hefted the laptop, still hidden among useless papers in a folder, onto the closest table. She lifted the computer from the papers and powered it on. Even though it would have a charge – and a long battery life – she had brought her extra charger. She hoped electricity was still siphoned to the cabin. “I'll go through Pete's files with a fine-toothed comb.”
Naomi piped up, from the chair she perched atop, “What about Baldie?”
Tyler paused from putting away some canned goods. His heart trembled as he turned to the women. “Did he see you guys again?”
“He visited us at the bank.” Miranda stared at the computer as it loaded. Her lips curved into a scowl, but Tyler had the impression she was avoiding his gaze. “Said he didn't want to do us harm but Pete doesn't like loose ends.”
“Really?” Tyler sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Silence danced among the four of them. Jack and Tyler putting away their freshly bought goods and the hum of the laptop were the only sounds to punctuate the air. Tension joined the silence, concocting a heavy mix.
“Maybe one of us should just give up, Ty,” Jack muttered, breaking the heaviness. All eyes snapped to him, rue coloring his face and pinching his brow. “I mean, I'm the one who found the issue in the books. It's my fault this happened to you all.”
Miranda's stomach churned at the very prospect. Naomi jumped up from her chair, almost knocking the stick of furniture over in the process. Her blue eyes were wide and bright with fear. “You can't give yourself up!”
“I'm just causing you all a headache, Naomi.” Jack shook his head, his shoulders hunched.
“No, you're not!” Desperation caused her voice to turn into a squawk of dismay.
“Yeah, I am,” Jack muttered, his head hanging further. “If I hadn't come around, none of you would be in danger.”
Her lower lip began to wobble. Tears brimmed on her lashes as she struggled to get the words out of her throat, “If you hadn't come around, Jack, I wouldn't have known–”
She broke off, unable to finish the sentence. Her cheeks colored as tears trickled from her eyes.
Jack's heavy footfalls followed him as he slowly approached the blonde. He reached out a hand, but fell short of touchin
g her. “Naomi?”
“I wouldn't have known.” Naomi reiterated in a mutter. Her hand pressed to her stomach and she stared down at her feet. Miranda and Tyler watched the two, their eyes swinging back and forth. Her attention latched onto Jack, trying to gauge his future intentions from his reaction.
Jack stared at Naomi for a breath, eyes wide and shock painted across his features. A realization sunk into his head like an anchor. “What?”
“I don't want to raise this kid on my own, Jack.” Naomi jutted out her still trembling, bottom lip. But she set her shoulders with a new sense of determination and strength. Both of her hands drifted to her stomach. Despite the fact she wasn't even showing, she gave the air of an expectant mother.