by Jody Klaire
“Weren’t you the one who said I couldn’t operate in normal society? That I ain’t got a clue about money, that Lilia controls it anyhow?” I picked at my hands. I hadn’t done that in a long time either. Nora in Serenity had picked at her hands. I wondered how she was holding up.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t a responsible adult. It’s not your fault that you weren’t given the opportunity to learn.”
I heard my own hollow laugh. “I was the one who said I’d hurt Jake. It is my fault.”
Renee dropped to sit in front of me. I fixed my eyes on my hands. “Aeron, where is this coming from? You moved through this, remember? It wasn’t your fault.”
Tears dribbled over. For a long time, I hadn’t been able to cry. Then I couldn’t stop, and now I cried more than I felt was good for me. It felt . . . it felt . . . weak to cry. “There’s nothin’ but memories here, nothing but things reminding me how much I messed up.”
Renee tapped my hands, stopping me picking. “When I was sixteen. It was the first time I fell in love.” She rubbed her thumb over my palm. “As you can imagine, it wasn’t a welcome discovery for me. Dad was gone, my brother was gone, and Mom had just started seeing a new man.”
I felt comfort from her gesture, comfort from her.
“My affections were returned; my mom’s boyfriend was very against . . .” She sighed. “People like me. He was vocal about it. My mom was just as disgusted. I listened to them speak about this girl in ways that hurt beyond what I can explain.” She met my eyes. “They didn’t know about me.”
That sounded like a hard place to be in. I hadn’t liked my stepmother at all. “What happened?”
“I tried to bottle it up. I tried to push the girl away and pretend.” She shook her head. “Then drowned myself in beer and went and found her.”
I winced for her, feeling how much the memory hurt. “Her parents . . . well . . . caught us and I was driven home.” She sucked in a breath. “My mom made us stand side-by-side in the middle of the living room while the adults interrogated us like we’d committed a crime.”
I squeezed her hand. “That sucks.”
“It damaged me so much that it still plays on my mind when I feel for someone.” She kissed my hand. “I had a lot of therapy because I didn’t feel as though I deserved to be happy and I blamed myself for feeling affection.”
“I thought you liked your mom?”
She smiled. “I do now. After she split up with the man, she came to find me. It took us years to repair the damage.” Her hands clasped mine. “But don’t think I don’t sometimes find it hard, that memories don’t taunt me with the pain.” She held my gaze. “It’s there, I know it is and the first step is acknowledging when something mental is prohibiting me.”
I felt the ache in my throat and tried to swallow it back. “You shared something with me.”
She nodded. “I did.”
“So you don’t think I’m being selfish for leaving them eat?” I didn’t like to think how my parents would explain to Ruth and Louise.
“You tried your best. If I’d realized, I wouldn’t have put you in that situation.” She held up her hands. “My mistake.”
“I sunk the boat.”
She smiled. “No, we sunk the boat.”
“I stole trucks with Sam.”
She got to her feet and offered me her hand. “I know your rap sheet. You weren’t the only teenager who did inexplicable things.” She smiled. “Goes with the hormones.”
“Jessie, the other kids in Caprock had hormones and they were heroes.” It was strange to think they were the age I was when I’d hurtled off the rails. They were way more mature.
“They were slaves and you didn’t have a deputy principal called Jäger terrifying you.” She sighed. I knew she hated thinking about the fact Frei had been one of those kids once, that Jäger had hurt her for helping her sister escape. “Besides, they managed to throw a few curveballs themselves if you remember?”
I chuckled at the memory of one of the kids getting drunk and graffitiing a statue of the principal. Jed was a good kid but, like me as a teenager, he’d had the ability to do some real dumb things.
“Are they finished?” I was still kinda hungry. Now that I’d talked to Renee, my stomach was making its demands known.
“Yes. I think Lilia made pecan pie.”
My eyes and stomach pricked up and she shook her head, hauling me to my feet. She was a lot stronger since Caprock. I didn’t know what workout regime she’d had but I was impressed. “Thought that might get your attention.”
Chapter 3
ALWAYS A SLAVE?
A dank industrial room, its cheap furniture dented and gnarled from use. Bare brick walls, floors of chipped tile. The strip lights glared down at Ursula Frei as she tugged at the restraints digging into her skin. A cold draft circled its way around her, teasing her skin into goosebumps. The guard, whoever he was, dragged on his cigarette, and was perched on the edge of a table.
She sighed. Cable tied.
They’d phased out the metal cuffs it seemed. They’d left her with rust stains on a few occasions. It was a pain to get out of her clothes. Better than tape. Tape was just an insult.
“Who are you?” The guard’s voice was ragged with the smoke he puffed on. His face was drawn from the lack of oxygen, oxygen it was robbing from him. How healthy.
She smiled at him. The fact he didn’t already know who she was said a lot about his low status.
He walked over and placed the cigarette to her arm. She watched it hiss at her skin. Good thing Jessie had her jacket or she might have lost her temper.
“You could have just turned the radiators on.” She looked up at him without emotion, unbothered. Sad how he thought his attempt would make an impact on her.
He raised his hand. Her cheek rippled with the impact. “I asked you who you are.”
He hit like a girl? No that was too kind. He hit like a younger child, maybe the age when they wobbled about, dribbling everywhere. He hadn’t even broken the skin.
She was insulted. They’d left her to be interrogated by him? Where was the respect?
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” He sneered in her face. He smelled like an ashtray. Attractive quality.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Just do it at a distance.”
His next blow was harder but not by much. She rolled her eyes. He didn’t know who she was, where she came from. He didn’t know just how pathetic his threat was.
She’d been a silent child, wild blonde hair that jutted out in all directions. Small, skinny, with eyes bigger than her face should have allowed. If this guy thought he was the first to raise his fist or make threats, he was sadly mistaken.
Frei rubbed her hands together, trying to ignore the agony in her stomach. Her head felt like it might fall off. Her hands were clammy. She took a breath and crept along the hall. It was quiet. The guards were lurking but they were easy to avoid. Megan was the tricky part.
Frei peeked around the corner and tensed. Megan was on the prowl in the dining room. Huber ate his food, looking bored at her protests.
“That slave is an annoyance. She makes you look foolish in front of the others and you say nothing.” Yeah, Megan’s mood was sour as always. Frei smiled. Down to Suz, no doubt. Suz was one of the slaves a year older. The owners all called her Süß because she’d always been cute and sweet. She had rosy cheeks and curly blonde hair. Frei’s baby sister couldn’t pronounce it when she was a kid. Suz was as close as she got. Huber had been amused enough to keep it. Suz loved it too. She was a friend but she was more like a sister.
“She has spirit. It’s entertaining.” Huber’s tone was noncommittal. He never really cared. Slaves weren’t important. He was busy.
Frei rubbed her hand over her stomach, eyeing his dinner. He terrified her. His voice was so calm but then when he yelled it bounced off the inside of her skull. He always made her jump. He was so tall, so imposing. She sighed, imposing or
not, her little sister needed to eat before she passed out.
“They will not eat until she is punished.” Megan narrowed her eyes, flicking her nails over her arm.
Huber lifted his eyes from his dinner and Frei tensed.
“You tell me what to do?”
She snuck across the gap to hide in the entrance to the darkened kitchen. The slaves had left to be confined to their rooms. She crept over to the refrigerator and sighed at the lock on the door. Everything was locked.
“You want me to work them, don’t you?” Megan sounded like she was on the charm offensive. Frei tugged at the lock which was as big as her trembling hands.
“I want order, Megan, do what you must.” Huber’s tone, unmoved. “I’ll be in my room. Don’t be long.”
Megan’s heels on the floor, the clicking as they faded. Suz would be ready for another round. Still, Frei wished she’d stop pushing Megan. They hadn’t eaten for days.
Frei’s stomach rumbled.
The dining room was empty. Huber must have left with Megan. Frei glanced around. His plate was still there. Bread on the side, maybe some pieces of steak left. She licked her lips.
She hurried to the table and pocketed the rolls. The steak looked dry. It looked like it had been burned. She snatched it up and chewed off a piece, then pulled a face. It was like charcoal. She spotted a bottle of something on the table and glanced up at the door. It would do.
She grabbed it, pulled off the lid, and shook some onto the meat. She held her breath and chewed another piece. She smiled, yeah, that tasted good. She shoved more into her mouth as she read the label. Worcestershire Sauce.
“A bit tough in places,” Huber said from behind her.
Frei dropped the bottle. It rolled but Huber stopped it before it fell off the edge.
She darted to escape. He gripped her wrist. She jerked to a halt. The bread rolls spilled out.
“Not so fast.” Huber pulled her chin up to look at him. “You evaded your monitors and the guards.”
Frei shook but she held in her tears. His grip hurt. His fingers dug in. She’d lost the rolls. Her sister needed to eat.
“Clever little thief aren’t you?” His eyes were blue, sharper around the rims. “Hungry?”
“My sister.” She breathed out, trying to puff out her chest like Suz. “Megan is starving her.”
Huber dragged her toward the kitchen. Dragged her to the refrigerator. He held up a key in front of her face. “This isn’t the only way in.”
Frei winced and rubbed her arm as he let her go.
“Try it.” He produced two long prongs.
She took them off him, they shook in her hands. “I don’t know what to do?”
Huber pulled another lock from a high cupboard. He handed her two large loaves. “You’ll have to make do with this until you can.”
Frei pocketed the prongs and held open her hands.
Huber tutted. “Not without clean hands, girl.”
She ran over to the sink and washed her hands. The loaves were on the counter by the time she finished but Huber was gone. The lock lay next to the bread. She picked them all up and hurried out. She’d figure it out, somehow.
Chapter 4
LILIA BRUSHED HER hair, smiling as Eli strolled out from the bathroom. He still made her stomach wriggle like she was a teenager. She chuckled. Even in his spotted boxer shorts.
She understood him. No matter that they had been apart for so many years or that he’d had . . . other wives. No, he was clear to her. His moods, his gestures, his mannerisms. His . . . eclectic taste in underwear.
He’d always been the same.
She guessed it was something to do with a lifetime of service. Bound by a uniform, he showed his individuality in other ways. Many of the CIG agents and officers she’d known over the years did similar things. Socks normally.
She stroked the brush through her hair, wishing that she could understand her daughter, their daughter, as well.
Terrible mother or not, she cared about her. She hadn’t left lightly but Aeron seemed to get the impression that her returning wasn’t about her love for them both. No, Aeron seemed to feel she’d just wanted Eli back; that she hadn’t been pining every minute to know, to hold, to comfort her own child.
She shook her head, hating the discomfort that felt as lead in her stomach. How did you make up for leaving a child? What could she say that would ever repair the wounds she’d inflicted?
Aeron, no matter how tolerant of others flaws, didn’t seem to feel as forgiving to her own mother.
“She’ll come ’round.” Eli smiled at her. He rubbed her tense shoulders. “She’s a great girl.”
“She’s hurt.” She stared down at her rings. Hurt just as Eli had been. Which was why he’d remarried so quickly. She knew that, but it didn’t make it sting any less.
“I hurt her too.” He placed a kiss on her crown. She pulled his arms around her, holding in the comfort of him.
“I don’t really wish to be half-drowned in a river.” Her tone had meant to be light but it sounded defeated.
He turned her around and pulled her chin up to look at him. Tuffs of gray peeked through the stubble. It made him even more handsome. “She’ll need your support with . . .” He sighed. “With Renee.”
Lilia raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
He gave her the scowl that she saw more often on Ruth’s face, on Aeron’s, given enough grumpiness. “I’m not blind.”
“I never said that you were.” Like father, like daughter. Both intolerably cute when irritated. “What about Renee?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Aeron always did the same thing. If he had his hat on, he would be pulling it off and wiping over his receding hair. Would she have loved him this much if they’d never been apart? She hoped so. Every nuance of him lit her heart until it shone.
“They have been inseparable since they met. I see the way Renee looks at her.” His brow creased. “I worry that Aeron doesn’t realize . . . She cried for weeks after Sam . . .” He rubbed at his chin. “I thought he’d done something.”
Lilia shook her head. “I was watching.”
His eyes flicked to the window. She heard his unsaid words. “Why didn’t you help her when Jake died? Why weren’t you there to stop her being locked up? Where were you?” It hurt to watch, to know he thought such things of her. It hurt that she couldn’t open everything up to him. “Renee isn’t Sam.” Her words sounded more defensive than intended. The only topic they ever butted heads on was Aeron.
“But Aeron will still be hurt if she thinks the only reason Renee is around—”
“She’s here because she cares.” Lilia didn’t want to hear this. She knew Renee Black inside and out. She knew how rare it was for Renee to want to be around anyone, to tolerate letting them in. Renee and Ursula Frei could have been related in that sense. They competed in all areas, barriers and walls just one of them.
“But Aeron doesn’t have a clue.” His loyalty to her was admirable, even if he was a dimwit. “I thought in . . .” He sighed. “In Serenity, that she would be aware of . . .”
“Of?” She controlled her temper. She’d defend Renee to anyone and had done on too many occasions. Sadly, more down to the direction her heart led her as opposed to any professional failures. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” had not been easy to navigate. Especially when Renee repressed everything and the eventual bubble over occurred.
“Women.” He shrugged. “All women. You run rings around me so how is she supposed to cope?”
Lilia felt the laughter spill from her lips.
Eli frowned. “I mean it. If she does . . .” He rolled his eyes at something and muttered under his breath. “If that’s how she feels, the poor girl is going to be tied up in knots.”
Lilia nodded. She didn’t doubt it for a moment.
“Renee’s a fiery one.” He shook his head. “I worry.”
“The wonder of parenthood.” Lilia smiled up at him and rubbed her hands
over his chest. His tattoo caught her eye. Their tattoo. “Don’t underestimate her.”
“How . . . ?” He ran his hand through her hair. “How . . . ?”
“You show her she can come to you if or when she needs it.” Strange how she could give advice to help Eli but couldn’t seem to follow it herself. “Show her that you’re on her side.”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good.” She tapped him on the chin with her nail. “Although I can’t tell you exactly, know that our girl is one of the best agents I’ve ever seen.” She smiled up into his eyes. “I don’t know where she gets it from but she outclasses us both.”
Eli straightened his shoulders. “Really?”
She chuckled at the daft grin on his face. He’d always had the ability to make her smile, make her laugh. “Really.”
“Maybe we did better not being around.” He shrugged and wandered toward the bed.
Lilia felt the sadness of that comment from her own heart as well as his. Sadly, she had a feeling he was probably right.
Chapter 5
RENEE DECIDED THAT we would take a stroll into town. For weeks I knew she’d been avoiding it. I knew she must have some shrink-like reason for doing so and maybe our conversation had prompted her. I’d returned to the town once before as a stranger, I guessed I was pretty much doing the same again.
The newer buildings, on the side nearest Nan’s cabin, still looked as neat and too perfect as they had when I’d left. There was one difference that added something to the place as Renee and I headed through the mini-neighborhood: lampposts. Fancy ones like back in St. Jude’s. Bubbles of lights set on ridged black metal with hanging baskets spilling what was left of their flowers.
The trees dropped their leaves like confetti, littering the ground with a golden carpet that seemed to welcome me home. The mulch and bark scents tickled at my nostrils as more of Mrs. Squirrel’s buddies floated, almost like they were flying, across from one side to the other. They didn’t pay us no mind as they worked. I guessed Mrs. Squirrel had told them all about us. I shook my head at one digging up somebody’s prize patch of flowers and ramming a nut in their place. It looked up at me with a twinkle in its eyes. Guess they hadn’t liked the arrangement.