by Kirsten Lynn
“Momma, I don’t…”
“Shhh, Ella. There isn’t time we’ve got to go.” I finish bundling her up and stand.
I weave and a rush of nausea slams into me, but the crunch of heavy boots closing in push me on, and I lock and bolt the front door. “We’re going to the lighthouse and you’re going to be very quiet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Herding them to the door my heart races and sweat drips down my face. I count the seconds, waiting for the boots to fall on the first step to the house, so we’ll be hidden from him as we run. I wish I had time to get my 9mm, but I wouldn’t chance running up the stairs, and I won’t send Michael.
When the bottom step creeks, I open the back door just enough for us to get through. Then, even though I want to slam it, I close it gently so I don’t alert the man.
There are three thunderous knocks on the front door, and I push Ella and Michael on, thankful neither is aware enough to cry out.
“Open the door, lady, it’ll go easier on you if you do!”
Michael casts a glance at me over his shoulder and I shake my head. For a second, I doubt my choice of the lighthouse and almost turn to one of the outhouses, or into the forest. There’d be no protection in the barn, and not knowing how long we’ll have to wait him out, I can’t risk the children out in the subzero temperatures.
We slip inside the door to the oil room, and I continue to herd them into the tower of the lighthouse right before I hear the crash of him breaking down our front door.
“Climb,” I order. We start the winding climb and my mind goes to all the times I chastised characters in books and movies for going upstairs instead of outside.
When we reach the anteroom, I stop them. “What’s going on, Momma?” Michael whispers.
“We need to hide from that man. He’s not good,” I whisper back.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I try Caleb’s phone. “Yeah, Angel.”
“Hal sent someone. I don’t know who. He’s in the house. We’re in the lighthouse.”
“I’m almost there. Hold tight.”
Either he disconnects the call or the signal ended. Swiping at the sweat on my brow, I paste what I hope looks like a smile of encouragement on my face. “We’ll be okay.” I wrap an arm around each of them and hold them close.
It seems like hours pass as we huddle together. Maybe he’ll give up when he can’t find us in the house.
“You better hope I don’t find you, bitch!”
I should have known. Still, there’s a resurgence of hope when I hear the faint motor of a boat and a helicopter. The Marine has landed and he’s brought the Coast Guard.
Letting the children go, I cut between their gazes. “Get up to the lantern room and don’t you come out for anyone but me or your father.” They stare at me, and I raise my voice. “Now!”
They scurry past me and start climbing just as the door below bangs open. I search the room for a weapon and find a piece of pipe. There’s the low rumble of a laughter that is nothing but evil, as he has to hear the children’s feet on the iron stairs.
“So here you are.” The voice doesn’t sound familiar. “Now you’ve pissed me off and I’m going to fucking rip you apart before I take those kids.”
Stepping from the anteroom, all I see is a tall, dark shadow lunging for me. I swing the pipe for all I’m worth and take satisfaction when there’s a low grunt of pain as I make contact right in his belly.
As I lift the pipe again, a bout of dizziness sends me off kilter, and I grab for the railing. The man recovers and, and with a snarl, grabs the pipe. He stands in the light, and I can finally make out his features. He’s about Caleb’s height, but not as fit, but what catches my eyes is the hate twisting his face.
He raises the pipe over his head. Lifting an arm to fend off the blow, I lower it when nothing falls. Instead there’s a bellow echoing from the stone walls and the man is disappearing down the steps, being dragged out by Staff Sergeant Quinlin. My Caleb—the Caleb the children climb over—is gone, replaced by a mountain of granite forged by the Marine Corps for one purpose.
When that purpose comes to mind, I hold tight to the railing and make my way down the stairs in triple time. Caleb is picking up the intruder and pounding him with his fists once more. Already, the man can’t stand as he flops to the ground, blood coming from his mouth and nose.
“Caleb, halt!”
He picks up the man I once thought was big, but now appears small and timid. Caleb raises his hand, but I grab his arm with what little strength I still have. “Caleb, please, no more!”
The man weaves and then hits the ground. Caleb turns to me and cups my face, his eyes slowly adjusting back to the blue of calm waters. “Did he hurt you, Brynn, touch you?”
“No, no. I got a good wallop in, but this stupid fever.”
He turns back to the beaten form, and I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him close so he doesn’t start the beating again now that he remembers I’m sick. His arms embrace me and squeeze tight. A moan from the stranger breaks us apart. “Caleb.”
He sits on his heels next to the fallen man. “I’m just going to ask a question.”
I keep a close watch. He pushes the man’s shoulder. “Who are you?”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re the one who’s fucked, man. Whatever he promised you—well you’ll have years to talk about as roomies in the state prison.”
“You two all right?”
So, intent on making sure Caleb didn’t kill the man, I didn’t hear Brian arrive, but now I see the helo hovering over the dock. “Yes.” I grab Caleb’s hand. “The children. I have to go get…”
“You get your pretty ass back in the house. I’ll get the kids.”
I turn to complain to Brian, but he’s already hauling the stranger down to the dock. I halfway comply, retreating to the back porch steps. Caleb emerges from the tower with the children. Michael runs to me, wrapping me in a tight hug as Ella sits perched on Caleb’s arm like a queen.
“That’s not in the house, Brynn.”
“I’m going in…now.”
I cringe when we walk inside, hoping he didn’t tear everything apart. Surprising both of us, the only damage is the front door. But knowing he was in the house and touched things makes my shoulders shake in a shiver of disgust.
“You want to go to town? Stay in a hotel or with your parents?”
I ruffle Michael’s hair. “Do you?”
“Not really. This is where Christmas is.”
I look to Ella. “You?”
She shakes her head and rests in on Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb holds my gaze with his. “I’m asking you, Brynn. The children and I will go where you need to.”
I look to our tree and the sad bulldog in the cone of shame, and shake my head. “We’ll stay. This is where Christmas is.”
“Then sit your ass down.”
Ella must sense this is one of those times correcting Dad’s language is not cute or funny. Before I can comply or tell him where to go, I dash to the bathroom and empty what little is in my stomach.
A strong, warm hand rubs circles on my back as I suck in deep breaths. “You are so fucking badass, Angel.”
“I don’t feel badass.”
“Come on, you’re like the living dead and still you manage to get our kids to safety and land a pipe to the gut of some son of a bitch.”
When I stand and flush, he lifts me in his arms. “You were pretty badass yourself.”
He starts walking to the couch. “Well, that goes without saying.” He winks and I roll my eyes.
“Who was that, Caleb?”
He sits without setting me down first so I’m cradled on his lap. “No idea. Someone Hal hired.”
The children are back to their toys, but not really playing with them, just sitting by them. “And?”
“And Brian is taking care of that. I didn’t want to go back to town and leave you all alone. We might have to go in and give a statement t
o the police. Brian said he’d talk to them, figure out jurisdiction and all that crap.”
“Did you want to stay at a hotel?”
“Negative. I don’t want to see Hal yet either.” His eyes turn cold before he presses his warm lips to my ear and whispers, “I’d kill him.
“Understood.” I tip my head toward the children. “Maybe some hot chocolate is needed.”
Two sets of eyes swing to us, and they answer unanimously. “Please.”
His body shudders under mine as I feel the tension and rage ebb. He sets me on the couch and tucks the poncho liner around me. “Rest. I’ll grab your medicine after I get their hot chocolate and fix the door.”
I nod and accept his kiss even if my breath rivals a corpse. When he and the children leave the room, I focus on the tree and try to bring back yesterday and all the warmth and joy. There is only one time when I have been as scared but forced to act as today, and I push back that memory before it can even unfold, for fear of nightmares.
The adrenaline is draining and with being ill no matter what I want I’m going to crash any minute.
From the kitchen there are giggles and a deep, gruff laugh. Maybe the dreams will be sweet after all.
Caleb
I eat up the pavement to Hal’s office. For weeks I’ve refused to even call him father, and after yesterday I know why. I hesitated to leave Brynn and the children again so soon, but this time I left them with Brian.
Like a few days before, I walk through the door and straight back to his office without stopping, only this time when I get into his office, I steamroll him and slam him against the wall. “You’re going to die, old man.”
“What the hell is this?”
“What the fuck was that yesterday with Brynn and the kids?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The police might have believed your bullshit, but I don’t. Brynn told me he only mentioned her. You saw me when I first got into town and knew they were alone. What was the fucking plan?”
His face drains of color and I’m ready to ground him to a pulp when he admits it. “I didn’t know, Caleb, I swear to God, I didn’t know. She asked if she could borrow the boat. Were the children hurt? Was Brynn?”
I search his eyes for the lie, the hidden sneer behind his question about Brynn’s welfare, but it’s not there. I don’t see a lie, just fear. Releasing him, I stay close in case I’m wrong. “Who asked?”
“Alice. She acted strange on Christmas. Said she had a late gift for me and I’d get it yesterday. Then she asked if she could borrow the boat to pick it up. She didn’t come back to work yesterday or this morning.”
“It wasn’t Alice in that boat.”
“I don’t know who he is. I have done some horrible things to you and Mark and the women you love. I’ve been forced to admit every charge against me is true. But this…I wouldn’t take the children by force and I would not hurt Brynn.”
At least he wasn’t hypocrite enough to include me in the list of people he wouldn’t harm. “Just file for joint custody.”
“Yes, I did that and, like I said, many other things.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She must have fled when her accomplice was caught. Let me get you her file. There are the addresses of her emergency contacts there; maybe she went to one of them.”
He staggers to the file cabinet and digs through folders until he pulls out one. “Here it is. I’m leaving for Portland at the end of the week. All you had to do was join me at my firm. Was that so hard to do?”
I hold his gaze, the only love I’ve ever seen there is for power and money. “Yes.” I take the file to pass along to Brian not trusting he would. He nods. “I would like to see the children someday, if at all possible.”
“At this point, Hal, I don’t see that ever being a possibility. Wrong day to ask, but then I don’t see a day when that will be a good question.”
“Understood. Would you at least tell Brynn, I’m sorry?”
I can’t tell if he’s sincere or if this is more of his manipulation. I ignore the request. “If it’s ever proven you were involved with yesterday, I’ll hunt you down.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Before I turn to go, I stare at the shell that was once a man I respected, then one I feared, then one I loathed, and finally one who meant nothing to me.
Without another word, I pivot on my heels and walk down the hall and out the door. There are some things even Christmas can’t fix.
I stop at the bookstore and pick up the romance book I read in Syria for Brynn to read while she recovers. Then I keep walking to the docks. I’ll give the folder to Brian and the Coast Guard and police can decide who hunts Alice down. If neither do, I will.
Climbing onto the boat, I search the buildings and streets before me. It’s a pretty little town, I have to admit. I ignored as much of it as possible any time I was back, and now I see it through Brynn, Michael, and Ella’s eyes.
“Happy Holidays, Caleb!” Mr. Worthington, my high school lacrosse coach, waves from the street.
“Happy Holidays!” I shout.
“Good to have you home!”
I feel my smile grow. “Good to be home!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Brynn
I don’t know what Mom and Audrey are talking about, but they seem happy with my occasional uh-huhs, so I don’t try to keep up. I lean back, trying to catch sight of my new husband in the kitchen.
This day is exactly what I wanted. My house, my decorations, our children standing with us. If there was one misstep it is in the number of people invited. While small by any standards, it’s not as intimate as I imagined. But when Rafe Manelli and Collin Hanson showed up, there is no way I wasn’t going to invite them to stay. They did drive all the way from Jacksonville, North Carolina, after all. And honestly, it is fun talking “shop” again with Manelli; making sure he’s caring for my Marines. Then Mom and Dad invited a couple people, Audrey did the same, and Brian brought a date. The small keeper’s house seems almost overflowing, but so full of love, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Mom, Dad, and Audrey talked Pastor Hayes, a man who gets seasick by looking at water, into crossing the bay on a cold night to perform the ceremony. How they did it, or what they traded, is something Caleb and I don’t want to know so we won’t have to testify. But the pastor seems to be having a good time now since he survived the ride over, he’s thawed, and is reconciled to the fact I’m wearing a red dress instead of white.
The red dress wasn’t planned, but is perfect for us. With everything going on and me being knocked on my ass the past week, I didn’t even consider needing a dress. I wanted to wear something he hadn’t seen. Thinking of how much Caleb liked me in red, I tugged out this dress two days ago, praying it still fit.
When I bought it, it was for another special occasion three years ago, the Marine Corps Birthday Ball. We received orders the day after we’d be deploying a few days before and spending the Marine Birthday in Afghanistan.
The front is prim round neckline, and long sleeves. Caleb is a bit chagrinned the back isn’t low-cut, but rallied once I exposed the thigh high slit in the side.
With one more, “yes, uh-huh,” I slip away from our mothers’ conversation. Dad and Brian are deep in conversation about hockey; I smile and wave as I walk by. Hanson and Brian’s date are talking, and I cringe at how far south the situation could go knowing Hanson’s reputation and Brian’s temper.
I step into the kitchen, sure I’d find Caleb and Manelli, but a sweep of the area shows the rest of the guests but no Caleb.
“You looking for me, Angel?”
I lean into Caleb’s hand when he rests it on my lower back. “As a matter of fact, I was.”
He draws circles in my back with his thumb turning my blood to fire. “Good. I’ve been dying to get back to you. Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”
I tip my head to the side to watch his
mouth curve in a smile that promises wicked delights. “Yes, you have, but I could hear it again.”
My hair is styled in an updo, so there’s open access to my neck and he takes advantage pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. “You look fucking outstanding, Brynn,” he whispers in my ear. My body responds to his touch and his words.
I skate my gaze over him in his navy suit. “So do you.”
“Yeah, but remember the plans for a chapel, me in dress blues, you in white lace?”
“I like this better. This fits us. Simple vows spoken for the state of Maine and our families. Because really our vows have been spoken a million times with our bodies, words, and actions.”
He caresses my cheek with the back of a finger. “True. You’ve been mine forever.”
“And I’ll be yours on this side of forever, too.”
He nips my earlobe, and there’s something about the fact that he really doesn’t care who sees him that makes it all the more arousing.
When he lifts his head and straightens to his full height, I see everyone decided to give us some privacy and are deep in their own conversations.
His gaze sweeps the room. “Where are Michael and Ella?”
I nod to the recliner where they’re curled up, sleeping. “So much for staying awake until midnight.”
He chuckles, and like always it feels like I’ve won something making him smile or laugh. How are you feeling?”
It takes me a second to process the change of subject, but when he lifts an eyebrow I answer. “A little tired and I’m avoiding the kitchen so I don’t smell the food anymore than I have to.”
He cups the back of my neck. “Maybe we should have waited?”
“No way, needed or not, I would have stood up in my pajamas and spew bucket and said I do.”
“Nice image, Angel, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”
Mom flips on the TV just as the countdown in New York begins. We all join in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. “Happy New Year!”
