by Louise, Tia
“Danny…” I struggle against the paralysis in my limbs.
My body won’t move. I’m having trouble breathing, and I’m covered in sweat. God, I can’t breathe. I gasp, trying to breathe through the smoke, the sand.
My ears are muffled. That shrill hiss is back. What the fuck? Finally, I get the fucking seatbelt off me, and I can move. I try to climb across the cab, across the dead body of my passenger.
This scene is different. It’s worse.
The man in the shemagh walking along the road is now walking toward me. In his hand is a machine gun. His brown eyes gleam with hatred, and I know he won’t stop until we’re all dead.
I have to stop him. I have to protect my men.
As soon as I have the thought, he starts to run toward me. I push out of the window and fall to the ground. The pain is indescribable, and I shout, holding my temples. When I look up he’s closer. He’s on me, lifting the gun straight in my face.
Somehow, through the confusion, I remember Drew sleeping on the floor behind me. She has no idea what’s about to happen. She has no idea she’s about be shot dead… Like Danny.
A fist of rage tightens in my chest. An explosion of fight mixed with fear. I can’t lose her. He lifts the gun to level of his eyes, and I shout.
“NO!” Hands are on me, and I reach out to push them away.
I reach out to stop the man, but the gun explodes in my face. The force of the blast shakes me to my core. I fall to my hands and knees, my face in my hands.
I’m shaking, covered in sweat. My muscles are buzzing with adrenaline, and I’m gasping for breath.
Blinking hard, I come back to myself. I’m in the pool house, but I’m in the back of the house. I’m still frantic from the rage and the fighting and the fear of Drew being killed.
It’s not real. I do my best to center my thoughts and breathe. I look around the room to center myself. I’m not in the desert. I’m in Drew’s house. It’s quiet, no chaos. I do my best to focus on the quiet. A panic hits my chest, and I hold the wall as I walk with trembling legs to the room where we were sleeping.
I stop at the corner and see her beautiful body. She’s lying on the palette covered in the woven blanket. Her soft breath swirls in and out, and for a few moments I focus on the sound, the sweet sound of my Drew alive and breathing there on her makeshift bed. The one she made to share with me.
Watching her sleeping so peacefully, breaks me. Tonight, when I got free of the grip of this fucking madness, I was in another room, across the house. What happens when I wake up, and I’m hurting her?
I’ve heard the horror stories, night terrors that turn into real-life terror.
Shoving my hands in my hair, I take another deep breath, doing my best to calm the fuck down. My clothes are in a pile where I left them, and I scoop them up, dressing quickly.
My eyes never leave Drew the entire time I pull on my clothes. Her face is so relaxed, so trusting. I call her a princess, a baby, but the truth is, she’s like an angel. Dropping to one knee, I lightly move a strand of hair off her cheek. I don’t want to wake her, but what I wouldn’t give for one more kiss.
In the past, I protected her. I kept her safe and comforted in my arms. What I wouldn’t give to find that comfort in her arms.
Instead I let her sleep. I slip out into the night alone.
Chapter 23
Drew
“When Richard Nixon was defeated in the California governor’s race in 1962, he famously said ‘You won’t have Dick Nixon to kick around anymore.’” Hunter is lying on his back on my couch today.
He’s rubbing his eyes with his fingertips, and I’m doing my best to stay focused on my work.
In the night I’d been disturbed, and I woke to find Gray gone. It left me unsettled. I couldn’t shake the feeling something bad had happened, and as soon as the sun finally rose, I sent him a quick text.
Me: Hate waking up to an empty bed.
My chest was tight, but I didn’t want to come across as clingy.
Gray: Sorry. Had to go. Don’t want your neighbors talking.
Me: I’m sure it was too late for that.
Gray: I needed to get an early start.
Me: I’ll bring the Jag over at lunch.
Gray: See you then.
Our text exchange didn’t go very far to ease my anxiety. I’d hoped for a little something more, even just a Drew-baby. He’s so hard to read now. When I got to work this morning, Dotty wanted to talk about how Dag and Gray hung out at the Red Cat. I didn’t have time to gossip with Hunter coming, but I made a mental note to catch up with her later.
“After being a senator for three years then serving as vice president under Dwight D. Eisenhower, he still felt like a Washington outsider. Only, in his eyes, that was a bad thing. He wanted to be in the group.” Hunter blinks at the ceiling a moment then turns to look at me.
It all clicks into place.
Nodding slowly, I give him a kind smile. “Is that how you feel? Like an outsider?”
He turns his head, facing the ceiling again. It’s several seconds before he answers me. “I did what you asked me to do.”
“You talked to Mrs. Green?”
He nods, again waiting several seconds before continuing. “She’s got a little business. She calls it Extreme Gnome Makeovers.” He looks down at his hands. “It’s really a clever name for a business. It made me laugh.”
I make a note on my legal pad. Wants to be an insider.
“I wonder if you and Mrs. Green might be friends.”
His brow furrows, and he sits all the way up. “She’s eighty seven… but I guess she’s my neighbor. Jesus said to love your neighbor.”
“Okay, new assignment.” He nods slowly. “See if you can find one thing you have in common with Mrs. Green.”
“One thing…” He looks around the room as if the answer might be here.
“It can be more than one thing, but I’m only asking for one.”
Slowly he stands, his face contorted as if I’ve given him a massive challenge. “Thank you, Miss Harris.”
“See you next week.”
He’s gone, and I lean back in my chair, thinking. What would it take for an outsider to finally feel welcome in the group? Who would he need to let him in? Who holds the key?
“I have six new possible matches on Bumble!” Ruby bounces into my office waving her phone at me. “One is even Korean!”
“You’re kidding.” I toss my pen on the legal pad and go around to look.
On the screen is a slim guy with short hair and a thoughtful smile. “Wow. He looks like that guy from the movies!”
“He just might be my insanely rich Asian husband!”
“It’s crazy rich.”
“Shh!” She puts a finger on my lips. “We don’t say that word here.”
Shaking my head, I scoop up my keys. “I’ve got to run the Jag over to have the tires replaced. Keep an eye on things, will ya?”
“How’d it go with my favorite boy?”
Pausing at the door, I put my hand on my hip, still puzzling over last night. “It started out great, but somewhere in the night it got sort of strange… Only I’m not sure if I was fully awake or dreaming.”
“What the hell?” Ruby walks over and closes the door. “I was talking about Hunter. What the heck are you talking about?”
“Oh!” I step back, trying to recover. “I… um… I think Hunter might be on the road to a breakthrough. He seems to be circling the reason he can’t trust people. He feels like an outsider. Like Richard Nixon.”
“That’s great. I’ll add it to my files. Now let’s get back to the strange night and possibly dreaming.”
My arms are crossed, and I rub my palms up and down to ward off the sudden chill. “Gray spent the night with me last night.”
Her eyes go wide. “At your house? Was your dad there?”
“We were in the pool house.”
She nods, grinning. “Yeah, you were. It’s about time you
got some action.” Her demeanor changes when I don’t smile. “Why are you upset?”
“He left in the night without a word.”
“So? I mean, he probably had to get to work or something. And you know how your neighbors are. It’s probably all over town by now.”
“Maybe…” Shaking my head, I try to push away my fears. “I’m probably just getting used to him being back is all. Every time he goes away, I feel like I might not see him again.”
She walks over and puts her arms around me, and for a moment, we stand in the center of the room sharing a hug. “Totally understandable, my friend. But he’s your white stallion. You’re his little Pekingese.”
My eyes narrow, and I push out of her arms. “Thanks.”
“What? Those are the cutest little dogs ever!”
“They look like walking mops.” I go to the door. “I’ve got to take the Jag in now.”
“See? He’s being so dependable, working toward a goal.”
“That makes two of us.” I’m out the door to her cat calling behind me.
Chapter 24
Gray
The rusted spark plug won’t move. I rock it back and forth gently, letting the penetrating oil Billy poured yesterday seep into the grooves. I’m focused, doing my best not to break them, doing my best not to let my thoughts go in a loop.
My dream from last night keeps resurfacing in my mind. I keep seeing the eyes of that guy, the hate sparkling in them. I see that gun pointing right in my face, and I feel the terror of knowing Drew is asleep behind me, vulnerable, next.
Jesus. I focus on my task.
The dream wasn’t real.
“Yeah, I couldn’t get it off last night either.”
“Shit!” I toss the wrench at the sound of Billy’s voice. My heart is racing, and a bead of sweat rolls down my cheek. It’s not even hot in here.
“Hey, sorry!” He holds both hands up like I pulled a gun. “I thought you heard me come in.”
“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” I step back, using the shop towel to dry the sweat off my neck. Then I walk over to pick up the socket wrench.
Billy slides his current whittling project in the pocket of his blue jeans and pulls the heavy work shirt over his shoulders. It still has my name on the pocket.
“I should update that for you.” I point to the patch. “If you’re planning to stick around a while.”
“No way, man. It’s my good luck charm.” He reaches up and twisting the spark plug I’d been working on. “It’s like I’m here at the bottom now, but one day I could own the place.”
The white socket drops into his palm, and he holds it up to me, grinning.
“I loosened it for you.”
“Muscles of steel.” He tosses it up and catches it again. “Like buns of steel, but the ladies can see it all. No imagination required.”
“Try working the muscle between your ears.” I look at the work order hanging on the wall. “I’ve found ladies like it more.”
“Say, you went to college, right?” He picks up one of the tires and rolls it inside the garage.
“Four years. Graduated with honors.”
He goes back for the next one. “Should I go to college?”
It’s a good question. I walk over and to help him. “It’s a big expense. If you’re planning to be a mechanic forever, then probably not. Trade school is enough.”
“So what are you doing here?” He’s following me with the last new tire for the Jag.
“It’s a long story.” One I don’t feel like discussing with Billy. Hell, I didn’t feel like discussing it with Dag. “We’ll put these on after lunch.”
“She bringing the car by again?” I nod, and he watches me a beat.
Finally, I look up. “What?”
“Drew Harris is the prettiest girl in town.”
“What about it?”
He shrugs, going to the box of new spark plugs and taking out four. “Back when my dad was fighting the dreams, the flashbacks, he told my mamma to leave. Told her to get out.”
“Why’d he do that?”
Billy takes out his latest whittling creation. “He figured it’d just get worse, he’d end up hitting her or something.”
“What happened?” I wince at the tone in my voice. I sound fucking desperate.
“She wouldn’t leave. My mamma’s stubborn as shit.” He returns to the Chevy and puts the carving in his pocket. “Dad started doing transcendental meditation. All kinds of crazy assed shit. He said the chanting pulled him out of the… ah…” he looks around as if for a translation book. “The loop.”
He circles his finger around his ear, and I start for the office. I don’t like the implication his dad’s crazy… or I might be.
Billy doesn’t quit talking as he installs the final spark plug. “He finally got through the worst of it.”
I pause before entering the small room. “Did he…” No. It’s not a question I can ask. It’s too personal.
My assistant seems to understand. “He never hit her. Never hit any of us. It wasn’t in him to hurt us.”
“Good morning, guys!” We both look up quick, and Billy lets out a low whistle.
Leslie is back, and this time she’s wearing a green wrap dress that plunges low at the neckline. Her breasts rise out of it, and I remember I was headed to the office. I’m sure my expression is as strung out as I feel, and I don’t need her getting any ideas.
“Hey, Leslie. Be right back.”
“Can I help you?” Billy walks over to her, holding the wrench in his hands and smiling.
In the office, I take a minute to collect myself. I want to believe the happy ending Billy’s dad got could happen for me. Still, I know how PTSD usually goes, the violence and the depression, the increased risk of suicidal thoughts. I know when I’m having a dream or a flashback, I’m not completely in control.
If I ever hurt Drew…
The image of me hitting her, or worse, while in that state tries to form in my mind, and I shut it down. I’d never hurt Drew. Not intentionally.
That’s the problem.
“Hey, sorry.” Billy is at the door. “She needs an oil change, but I’m not sure we have the right filter for her car…”
Clearing my throat, I return to where Leslie is waiting by her yellow Mazda Miata. “I can order it.”
She blinks up at me, smiling. “If you need me to come back next week—”
“It’s okay.” I walk up to look in the open hood. “The guys are pretty quick with supplies. We should be able to do it tomorrow.”
Billy hands me the part, and I walk to the computer. I feel Leslie following, and when I stop she’s right beside me.
“How’s it going, Gray? Any trouble getting back into the swing of things?” She puts her hand on my arm.
“I’m doing okay.” I continue entering the part number.
“Dag said you were at the Red Cat Saturday? He said you were feeling pretty down about Danny. It’s completely understandable.”
My throat tightens, but I hold steady. “I guess it’s normal.”
“Of course it is!” Her voice goes high, breathy. “You and Danny were inseparable. I remember.” She exhales a laugh. “Remember that weekend at the lake? Did you get those photos developed?”
“You know, I forgot.” The oil filter appears on the screen. “Here it is. If you think you’ll be coming here pretty regularly, I’ll order extras.”
Just like Mack. I remember my first day and all the filters for Mrs. Green’s station wagon.
“Definitely order extra.” Our eyes meet, and she gives me a sly grin. “I’m sure I’ll come very regularly with you here.”
“Sorry to barge in like this.” Drew’s voice, causes me to take two steps back.
Shit. What’s with everybody sneaking around these days?
“I’m just dropping off the Jag like you asked.”
“Drew… hey.” I go to where she’s waiting, her eyes throwing flames. “You look reall
y pretty today.”
She’s wearing navy slacks and a pink top that buttons up the front and has a little belt at the high waist. She looks like the gorgeous, professional nerd she is, and I want to unwrap her like a present.
I want to tell her she has nothing to worry about with Leslie. I’ve been dodging that girl for years.
“I don’t really have time to stay.” She gives me a pointed look. “Unless…”
Leslie walks out to the garage, and I wince when she stops to bend over, digging in the glove box of her small car. Her ass is right in the air, pointing at me.
“I could walk you back?”
Drew’s pretty lips are pressed in a thin line. “It’s just across the street. I think I’ll make it. Will you?”
“You have nothing to worry about.” My eyes hold hers. She can’t think I’d prefer Leslie over her.
“Sometimes I’ not sure.” She leaves her keys and starts for the door.
Leslie walks around to the back of the Miata. “Gray? I could really use some body work. Are you up for that?”
My jaw clenches, and Drew’s eyes narrow. “I don’t do body work.” I say the words clear and definite. “Not here.”
“Really?” Leslie’s voice is fake innocence. “It seems like you’re missing an opportunity.”
“I do body work.” Billy jumps in, and I follow Drew out to the parking lot where the Jag waits, shining in the sun.
Just when I think she’s leaving without a word, she turns on her heel and steps toward me fast.
“What happened last night?” Her tone is sharp.
It causes me to take a step back.
I catch the finger she has on my chest. “I told you. I couldn’t sleep.”
She pulls her hand from mine, putting both on her hips. “Really. That’s it?”
I don’t like her being angry, but I want to have this conversation in a different place, a different way.
“You can talk to her about it, though? Be yourself around her?”
“No.” Anger squeezes my lungs.
“Well, it sure looks that way to me.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I don’t care about her.” I catch Drew’s arms. My voice cracks. “If it looks different, it’s because I don’t have to worry about hurting her. I never hurt her.”
