by Lainey Reese
“Well, that’s a shame.” A soft male voice broke into the hush that had fallen between them. “I planned to only have to take care of the one of you.” Darkness fell slowly as the barn doors closed like the fall of night behind him. “The way I had it figured, if you—” He pointed at Sharon. “—were gone, then Logan’s mother could break free of the spell you cast over her and repent. I could suffer you to live, since he’s so happy to have his mother back.” He picked up the big, impossibly heavy beam of wood that worked as a lock and slid it into the door slots. And just like that, they were trapped. “But now I see I was mistaken. You have both provoked temptation, and clearly God has passed his judgement. As sad as it makes me to hurt my friend, it looks like both of you have to go,” Abram said. “Pity.”
Chapter 22
Andie stood in the nursery for the first time since she’d come home from the hospital. She’d been so afraid of this room. Terrified of the pain it contained within its four walls and tragically empty crib.
Kiki had painted a delicate mural that spanned the ceiling as well as the walls from the floor up. She created her own version of a Grecian heaven in here, with clouds of pinks and blues and lavender hues that bled into gold. Soft peachy undertones and buttery warm yellows brought an otherworldly warmth that surrounded you with comfort the moment you passed the threshold. There were pale pillars in creamy shades of white and beige that looked so real a person would think they could grab onto them. Pegasus and unicorns frolicked with cherubs, and goddesses and gods seemed to drift in and out of the room as if they were in motion, their delicate togas trailing in a tropical breeze you could swear you felt when looking at it. It was a magical space decorated with furniture the same golds and peachy tones that were on the walls.
She had been afraid there’d be only pain in this barren space now, and the pain was there, but she found there was also a sort of comfort as well. The glider Luke had bought her for breastfeeding sat overlooking her garden patch, and Andie picked up the ultra-soft stuffed bunny in it and cradled its plush body in her arms as she took a seat. This room gave her the thing her heart craved most—proof of life. Here was the reassurance she had sought. Her baby had been. She’d been expected. She’d been loved. She’d been alive and anticipated, and here was proof that Andie hadn’t been the only to have loved her.
Kiki’s art surrounded her. Luke had not only bought her this ridiculously expensive chair, but he’d given her the crib that had been his as a baby and he’d used for Logan as well. He’d even lovingly sanded and refinished the frame, so the wood gleamed in the soft afternoon light. Jax had given her the bunny she cradled, and even Logan surprised her with his first baseball mitt. He’d told her boy or girl, any sibling of his was gonna love baseball and had a big brother to make sure that happened.
“You were loved, my angel,” she whispered. “You were here, and you were real, and you were loved. I’m gonna love you forever. I promise, I’ll never forget you. Never.”
A soft tap on the doorframe had her lifting her tearstained face and turning to see Luke framed there. He looked as stoic, solid, and unflappable as always. This strong, dependable man with sensuality boiling under his calm no-nonsense demeanor. Dear God, she loved him.
“Hi.” Luke was trying to look unruffled, but even from across the room, she could see tears in his eyes.
“Hi yourself,” Andie whispered back. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. I’m sorry I was distant for so long.” Sitting there on her porch swing, trying desperately to hold on to every moment of her pregnancy and commit them all to memory. Her frenzied attempt to somehow hold on to her child.
“No, don’t apologize to me about any of this.” Luke stepped into the room and was at her side in two long strides. “Ever. None of this is on you. You got that?”
“I know,” she told him, “but you’ve been so great through all of this, and then after I got home, I just sort of shut down and wouldn’t see you, even when you came over and—” The touch of his fingers to her lips stopped her flood of words.
“Ever. We’re good, Andie. We’re great.” She’d known he was there every day at the farm, and if it hadn’t been for him taking over, who knows what it would look like today. Andie had never wanted to talk to him though. He greeted her every morning before he started and told her goodnight every evening before he left for the day. It had been clear he was allowing her to set the parameters for their interactions. She’d only nodded mutely at each of his greetings and never opened herself up for conversation or invited him to join her. She needed to be alone in her grief, needed that time to mourn even as she understood his grief was just as real and important as hers. Until today though, hers was all she’d been capable of handling. As she gazed up into his earnest and openly entreating expression, Andie realized she was ready for what came next in regards to their relationship as well.
Luke took a deep breath, braced himself, and then looked around the room. “I haven’t been in here since we set up the crib.” He cleared his throat, sniffing roughly at his tears, impatient with them. “Kiki really is talented; I wish I had known her when Logan was little. This is like walking into a book.” Luke picked up a stuffed giraffe and brushed his fingers over the fluff that ran along its long, spotted neck. “She would have been the happiest kid on earth in here. I can’t imagine a child ever feeling sad in this room, can you?” Too choked up for words, Andie shook her head mutely. With another sniff, Luke set the toy carefully back in its spot and meandered his way around. His eyes seemed to take in every detail, and Andie thought he just might have been trying to memorize the space and cement it in his memory the way she had.
“I don’t think I’ll ever change this room.”
“There will be more kids—”
“Stop.” Luke’s words cut off like a switch had been thrown at her quiet tone. “I know you don’t mean it that way, but I don’t want to hear those words. Not from you. Children aren’t interchangeable. It’s not like I lost my favorite sweater, so I can just replace it with a new one from the same store. There will never be another her.” She wasn’t yet prepared to speak her daughter’s name out loud. Right now, it was a whisper on her heart. A fragile, luminescent thing that glowed in her chest, and she was afraid speaking it aloud would crumble the fragile and shaky foundation she managed to erect. “I wanna say ‘it’s not like she was a puppy,’ but animals are individuals too.”
“I get that.” His expression was as unguarded as she had ever seen it. “I feel the same. Whenever any of our pets pass, it takes us a good long while before we get another. But the thing is, Andie, we do get another. We heal, and then we look forward.” He choked up again. Andie watched him curse and rub furiously at his eyes. It looked like he thought if he rubbed hard enough, he could rub away the pain that caused them. “Right now, it feels like…. Geez, I don’t know. Like, I wish I could just roll the whole world up and put it away. Like…. Well, that’s enough of that. But we can’t. We have to go on. We have to. And Andie? I can face that. I can face going on. As long as I know I can face it with you.” He came to her then, knelt on the floor next to her chair, and clasped her cool fingers in his big, warm hands. “I already have to face it without our daughter. I don’t think I can make it if I have to face it without you too.”
“You won’t have to.”
Luke surged to his feet at her quiet words, scooped her up, and sat in the chair with her in his lap. Then he just buried his face in her neck and held on. They clung to each other and let the healing come.
“I’ve never seen you work on something so small.” Jax stood peering over Kiki’s shoulder as she worked with needle nose plyers. She wove wire that looked as delicate as hair strands together while wearing steampunk micro-goggles on her elfin face.
“I’m full of surprises, I am,” she declared cheekily without showing the slightest surprise to have him looming over her… again.
“That you are, Kiki,” Jax said softly. “That you definitely
are.” She was, in fact, a constant surprise to him. Her art left him spellbound. Her passion left him hungry. Her humor delighted him, and her spunky “bring it on, world” attitude inspired. Christ, everything about her drew him. Then why had he been so intent on chasing after a woman clearly in love with another man instead?
“Have you finally come to your senses then?” Kiki took off her goggles as she turned to face him, her lips quirking when he didn’t step back. The sly smile she sent him when she turned her face up to look him eye-to-eye spoke volumes. He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.
“You could have said something,” he prodded, crowded closer, and leaned until his hands were braced on the work bench behind her. “Would’ve saved a lot of time and trouble.”
“Nope,” she told him primly. “You had to figure things out on your own. If I had done anything to open your eyes sooner, then it would’ve felt too much like I was coming between you guys. There were already three of you in that tangled-up relationship; it didn’t need a fourth.”
“Beautiful, talented, and brains too?” Jax gazed into her pixie face and let the details of her really sink in. The moss-green eyes with their elfin slants and long, silky lashes. The tiny pert nose that wrinkled differently depending on her emotions. Her soft pink lips that framed a slightly crooked smile. “God, I’ve been an idiot.” He dropped his head and swallowed her whispered “Yup” with his kiss.
“Hey, Sheriff, you just missed Max.” Jessica handed him a menu then flipped his mug and began pouring him a cup of coffee without asking.
“Oh yeah?” Derek answered and opened the plastic-coated list of options, even though he knew he was just going to order whatever she whipped up for the special anyway. “It’s to do with the case. We got some new information that warranted a visit, even though he was just here last week.”
“Yeah, he’s a good one, Sheriff,” she told him with innocent trust. “He’s not going to stop until he finds this guy. In fact, he even asked me a bunch of questions about the raves I go to. Then he ran outta here like a shot.”
There was a lot of information to unpack in that statement. “I didn’t know you were still a rave girl, Jess. I would’ve thought you’d outgrown that by now.”
“How do you outgrow music?” she asked him with righteous disdain on her pretty, youthful face.
“Not the music,” he told her, trying not to smile at her like an indulgent uncle. “The scene. Loud and crowded definitely loses its appeal as time wears on. You’ll see.”
She gave a token chuckle, called him a grandpa, and said, “Why don’t I bring you out a plate of tacos? They’re a hit today; you’ll love ‘em.”
So he put his menu down and reached for the coffee.
He took a sip and wondered aloud, “Jessica? What did you tell Max that got him fired up?”
“He was just as surprised as you that I still go to raves,” she told him smirking. “I mean, c’mon. I’m still in my twenties. I hope I always like raves. Jax does, and he’s way older than me.”
Derek smiled. “Yeah, but that man’s covered in tattoos and had green-and-black hair all through his teens. You expect that from him. You look more like you enjoy a bit of classical lightly strumming in the background of your garden party. Head banging, paint splattered, and bouncing around to a bunch of screaming guitars in a psychedelic club on the other hand? I doubt that would be anyone’s first guess for you.”
She laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But not everyone looks the way their music sounds. Music is the great equalizer, right? It brings everybody together, regardless of how they look or dress. Or even of where they come from. Look at Abe for example. He’s freakin’ Amish, but he’s there all the time. Loving the music and cutting loose. And Miss April? She doesn’t go anymore, but she told me back when she was my age she—”
“Wait.” Derek was surprised. “Abe? You mean Abram? Abram Miller, Logan’s friend?”
“Yeah.” Panic overcame her features, and she placed her hands on her mouth with a small gasp. “Oh shoot! Oh please don’t tell, Sheriff. It’s kinda like an open secret between all us who go. See, he could get in real trouble if it ever got back to his people that he’s a raver. They aren’t allowed music of any kind. Well, you know that as well as I do. But gosh, I’ll feel so bad if he gets in trouble because of my big mouth, Sheriff. Sheriff? Sheriff, where you going? Don’t you want your tacos?”
Christy clutched the bloody jeans and wicked-looking knife reflexively. Sharon had known from the first there was something off about Logan’s friend. But she’d never dreamed anyone could be this off.
“Sharon, sweetie,” she said in a firm, calm voice as if there was nothing going on that she couldn’t handle. “Come stand behind me, darling. Come on.” She wanted to reach out and yank her to safety, but she wasn’t about to take either hand off the weapon.
Sharon didn’t budge. The woman was just as protective of Christy as she was of her, but Christy was the one with the knife, so Sharon was going to have to give way this time.
“Sharon, come on now. Line up.”
The call to dance had the desired effect. Sharon had been in toe shoes since the age of four and a professional dancer almost as long. As ingrained as a soldier, Sharon could set aside any emotional turmoil and get the job done when it was time to line up. Strong, dark shoulders snapped straight atop a spine forged of steel. Sleek, sinewy muscle rippled underneath her glowing skin, and there was lethal grace in every gliding step she took to Christy’s side.
Suddenly, the fear was gone. They were dancers, for Pete’s sake. Their bodies were honed to perfection, and they pushed themselves to the physical limits daily. For the fun of it. Pain was a byproduct easily ignored, and if this pansy-assed, ignorant farmhand thought because he was a man that two grown women armed with a fucking knife were going to be afraid, well he had a whole world of hurt in store for him.
“FBI! Freeze!”
Jax barely registered the words before he was tackled from behind.
“What the fuck?” he shouted, confused. One second ago, he’d been wrapped around Kiki, a living flame in his arms. She never stilled; she fluttered and gyrated, squirmed and moaned, and he hadn’t even taken any of her clothes off yet. Kiki was wonton abandon and lush, sultry heat, and Jax had been reveling in her. Luxuriating in every sound he coaxed from her gasping lips and every tremble he teased from her perfect body.
Then, chaos of a different kind. He was hit from behind by a hundred and ninety pounds of angry agent, and he saw red. The passion ignited by desire converted in a flash to the boiling hot rage he always carried but never gave lead to.
Until now.
“I love you.” Andie had to say it. Here and now, in this quiet moment in their daughter’s nursery. “I’m sorry I bailed out on you these last couple months. No, hear me out. I wish I had grieved with you. That I would have let you in. I know I wasn’t the only one to lose her. I can’t tell you what it means to me that you came every day even when I refused to see you.”
“You saw me,” he told her gently. “I made sure to walk by the porch every chance I got, even when what I needed wasn’t anywhere near the porch.”
Charmed by him, she nuzzled closer. “You know what I mean. I should have let you cry with me. Sit with me and share in our loss together. I don’t know, it would have been… well, not easier, but more endurable maybe?” He cupped his hand on her nape and kissed the top of her head.
“It happened the way it happened. Now, we go forward. Right? You got through it, and you’re going to keep getting through. And I’m going to be right here as you do. Screwing everything up every time I open my damn mouth, probably. But I’m going to be loving you every minute for the rest of my life while I do.”
Andie cupped his cheek. “Sounds good to me.” And as his arms tightened around her, the sun broke through the clouds and bathed them in a golden, warm glow.
All was right with the world.
Christy knew s
he should drop the bloody jeans and hold the knife more securely, but she was afraid of smudging the fingerprints already on it. Abram was stalking closer; his dead shark eyes gave nothing away, and the tension built as she waited for him to lunge.
“Rachel,” Derek barked into his radio as he pushed ninety on his way to Wally’s spread. “Get a hold of Craig. Tell him to call in one of the volunteers, don’t care who, and head over to the Miller spread. I want them to find Abram and bring him in.”
“Oh, he won’t be at home, Sheriff,” Rachel said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He’s still gonna be helping out at Andie’s this time of day.”
“That’s what I’m banking on, but you send Craig to his folks’ place just in case. And make sure he takes someone with, you hear?” It was a long shot that Craig would be in any danger, even if he did happen to find Abram before Derek did, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.
“Oh please, don’t stop,” Andie gasped. As gently as a summer breeze, Luke had stood from the chair with her in his arms and walked from the nursery into her room. Now, she was on the bed, under him, and naked. Every inch of her body was exposed. She wanted to scurry under the covers, but Luke wouldn’t have it. He worshiped her body. Caressed it, cherished every inch of her with his hands, his mouth, and that clever, clever tongue.
“Oh my God!” She came with a shout.
“Oh my God!”
He came right at them. No wavering or feinting left or right. Abram just lunged, and Christy and Sharon both yelled in surprise at his sudden move.