“No, it’s fine,” he said. “That’s more than enough for now.”
“Will you tell me about you? I mean, when we get to the house, will your wife be upset that you brought home a whole family and two kids calling you Daddy?” she asked, cutting her eye at him.
“Hey, girls,” he said, looking into his rear-view mirror, “anyone ready for a bathroom break?”
“Me! Me!” Karli said as well as Dusty Rose.
Willow noticed he had evaded the question. The sound of the turn signal blinking was the loudest silent non-response she had ever heard. They were still four hours outside of Hilton Head and she was afraid she’d put her foot in her mouth. She needed to find a way to smooth it over.
“Mr. Hoyt, I have a very important question,” she said, looking at him square in the eyes.
“Yeah, what?” he said, sounding gruff and drawing the girl’s attention.
“Daniel Craig, Pierce Brosnan, or Sean Connery?”
“What?”
“Which is your favorite Bond?”
“Aren’t you clever, trying to change the subject to get back in my good graces...naw, it won’t work, Ms. Willow Smarty Pants,” he said, staring her back in the eyes. “To answer your question, I’m very seldom home. The days that I am, I’m on my boat fishing. You and the girls will have the run of the house until we get everything situated.”
He answered the question indirectly. She was out of his good graces, that he made perfectly clear. Willow was also hungry, and the girls had eaten all the fruit. Her head hung a bit low, making her grow visibly sullen.
“Hey, let’s find something quick to eat, get you and Dusty a pair of pants, and get back on the road. I want to be home by dinner,” he said to her. “Girls, stay very close to your Mom while we’re inside, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” they both said, excited to go into the roadside shop with bright lights.
Raphael was certain of three things—he was not planning to get an actual wife out of this deal, he was not spending another 165 bucks on bullshit, and he was never going to have toilet paper in the house with three women. The one thing he wasn’t certain about was Willow and her two gypsy flower power children. Karli said he was going to like her Mommy, and damnit he did. She had a cool vibe about her, a quick wit and cutting sense of humor. Until now he never considered his nomadic lifestyle to be lonely. He had women on his routes that he could visit if he were so inclined or in need of female company. All she wanted was a good conversation. He could do that, without getting sucked in too deep.
“Brosnan,” he mumbled. “He was cool, handsome, and competent.”
“Yeah, but he runs like a girl,” Willow said, looking at him over her shoulder.
“And you need on some britches, Smarty Pants,” he said calmly as Karli slipped her fingers into his left hand. He held out his right hand for Dusty Rose and she took hold of it. Raphael pulled Dusty Rose in close, planting a wet, raspberry of a kiss on her forehead, just to make sure he kept his word and they walked into the roadside wallet sucking pit stop, to buy more bullshit items he swore two seconds ago he swore wasn’t going to do.
PRODERICK PUTNAM HYMN sat in the woods, high on the hill overlooking the Flowing Creek Naturalist Compound. Today was initiation day of a new member, a pretty brunette who would become his seventh wife. The alone time with her would give him ample opportunity to implant his seed to create more offspring. He’d waited several months to ensure she would be ripe when the time came for inception, but the lady was a dud in the sack. Why did it always have to be the pretty ones who simply lay there and made moaning noises like a bad porn movie? Already, he was tired of the woman.
On the front porch of his hideaway cabin, he could see the entirety of the compound. The bird’s eye view allowed him to also observe the men who worked for him and how they comported themselves around his wives. A few of the men had wives of their own, and today was laundry day. Water from the dam would be released into the creek and the women and young girls would frolic in the water. In the thin white dresses, he often marveled at the different shapes and sizes the human body developed into, even when the women were all on the same diet. He especially liked their breasts. The bounced freely without the modern entrapments of bored house husbands who demanded their women harness the golden gifts which not only aroused men, but fed their young as well.
In the distance, he saw the white gauzy garments descending the hill.
“Ah, wash day,” he lamented, as a small puff of dust appeared on a back trail only he and two others knew and used.
Grabbing his binoculars, Proderick zoomed in to where the dirt was kicked up, but the canopy of the trees hindered his view of a vehicle. He scanned the foreground and background surrounding the women, looking for evidence of chicanery. His second in command, Kindred Seoul, as of late, had become a worrisome matter.
“What in the world?” he asked, looking through the binoculars and seeing a dark figure in the woods. The figure came to the edge of the creek, looking directly at Willow. “God Damnit!”
He cursed up a blue storm, ready to get his radio to call to the guards, when the man pointed at a large oak. A small child–no Karli in pants, came from behind the tree.
“How and why is she in male clothing?” Proderick asked, watching the little girl wave to Willow.
Proderick got to his feet, running inside to grab the radio when he heard a loud sound. Sirens, small arms fire, and women’s screams pierced his ears when the lights from government vehicles entered his compound.
“They have no damned right!” he yelled, nearly salivating at the mouth. “They have no right on my goddamn land!”
His eyes were back on the binoculars, peering down into the trees and looking for Willow. She was no longer there. Dusty Rose, who was always at her side, also no longer there. He searched the wood line for the white gauzy fabric which also was no longer there.
“No!!! No! No!” he yelled, angrier than he’d ever been in his life. Willow had finally managed to get away. Just when he knew she was reaching her breaking limit of being in isolation, she was next on his list to become his bride. Six years without the touch of a man, and the woman would have fallen into his arms, giving him anything he wanted. More children were always high on his list of needs, coupled with a warm home and tables covered with edible food, and maybe, a night in his cabin with a deer steak dinner. Now, she was gone. The idea of another man laying his hands on that beautiful dark, supple skin made him see red.
“I’ll get you back. You and my children, and this time, I won’t be so patient with you, Willow Rayne,” he mumbled, watching the vehicles arrive on to his property. Women he knew wanted to leave met the federal officers and government officials with open arms, ready to get away from the Flowing Creek Naturalist Compound.
Everything was nearly gone, along with the disobedient wives he no longer bedded but used for profit. There went his income on Friday nights.
“Whoever you are, I will find you. I will find you and kill you,” Proderick promised, watching the movement of trees in the distance. Whoever took his daughters and Willow had broken through the back path and was on the main road. “I shall find you, and I shall kill you.”
Chapter Four – Replication
RAPHAEL HOYT READ AS dangerous. Willow didn’t feel that he was an immediate threat to her or the girls, but the way he moved clearly defined him as an Apex predator. Overall, he wasn’t handsome per se, but he wasn’t unattractive either, in a white businessman middle manager kind of way. A head full of dark hair and an aristocratic A-lined nose over a barely there upper lip which was hidden under a thick mustache added to his smooth, refined appeal. Hair surrounded his mouth and a thin chin strap of a black beard, mottled with wisps of gray hairs flecked in between strands, gave him a distinguished look as a man of means.
The jeans he wore, loose fitted, accentuated the narrow-tapered waist and wide shoulders. Willow didn’t spy any body fat on the six-foot frame. The dark tur
tleneck shirt fit his body, showing off a flat stomach. She was very tempted to peer over in the seat at the crotch of his pants, just for the record books, to satisfy her curiosity, but for some odd reason, she didn’t feel he deserved that. Being ogled as a piece of man meat after rescuing her and the girls was simply unfair, even for a vegetarian who was starving for a chunk of meat. Her body language had changed since he had disapproved of her comment on Pierce Brosnan running like a girl.
Raphael picked up on the subtle change. “Willow, we are less than an hour out; are there questions or concerns you may have that I can answer? You seem kinda tense,” he said with that deep tell me all about your sorrows voice.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You read different each time I look at you. In your eyes, when you look at the girls, I can see what Karli saw. However, when you look at me, I see nothing in those same eyes. I’m worried because your overall body language screams that you are a dangerous man.”
He interrupted, “Because I am a dangerous man.”
“The funny thing is, I don’t feel any danger towards me or the girls, which is really freaking me out.”
He wanted to appease her fears and console the lady. This was scary not only for him, but for the girls. The idea of sharing a house with three women still made his balls itch and not in a good way. No matter what he felt, they didn’t deserve to be scared anymore.
“I used to be a Navy SEAL,” he said softly. “I did 22 years in the Navy before retiring. Toward the end of my career, things started to change in my world. My Mom had begun to deteriorate, and my sister married a weird dude who mentally abused her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Willow said, wanting to reach out to console him.
“Her story is very similar to your sister’s, but my sister, by his Grace, was rescued from some cult she hooked up with in Ohio,” Raphael told her.
Willow looked at his hands. The nails were neatly trimmed, but not rounded with a high gloss and evenly trimmed cuticles. She took that as the first sign that he wasn’t gay. He began to tell her about his life in the military, graduating from the Navy’s 24-week "A" school known as Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) Training. He also informed her that he had completed the basic parachutist course and then the 26-week SEAL Qualification Training program, and he later became cadre until his retirement. He’d been home for a year when his sister went missing.
“Her marriage to that weird guy aided in our mother’s rapid deterioration, and our mother made me promise to find my sister and bring her home,” he said. “I found her, but she couldn’t come home. She didn’t want to come back to the Island.”
“Do you see your sister often?”
“Very rarely. You see the person who rescued my sister placed her in one of those witness protection kinds of things, and for the safety of Annabelle and my niece Cady, I maintain a healthy distance. I mail goody packages when I’m several states away to keep a clean trail. If I go anywhere near Annabelle, he will know where to find her,” Raphael added.
“And the house that we are going to stay in with you until I guess this friend of your does the same thing for us, can you tell me about it?”
“Not much to tell,” he added, “but it is within walking distance of the beach, which is always cool. There are four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom,” he added taking his eyes off the road for a second. “Anything else you need or want to know?”
“Yes, there are many things I need and want to know, but this moment, in this vehicle, isn’t the time to ask,” she said.
“Listen, I don’t know from day to day how long I will be home. I can get home tonight and have to leave out in the morning, so if there is something you need me to know or want to ask, you’d better ask while you have my undivided attention,” Raphael spoke, again, glancing over at the soft outline of her face.
“I’m scared,” she blurted out in a hushed whisper loud enough for only his ears. The girls were looking out the window fascinated by all the water after being land locked all their lives. The distraction was helpful during the conversation.
“Scared to ask the question, scared of me, scared of the situation? Willow, you must be more specific,” he replied.
“All of that, plus you,” she stated.
“You have no reason to be afraid of me. I will never harm you or the girls,” he said.
“There are more types of harm than the physical. I’m scared that we’re going to get attached to you, become reliant upon you, and then have to leave,” Willow said.
“If I said don’t get too comfortable, you’d think I was being an ass.”
“Yes, I would,” she told him, “and I know you’re not. I...we are grateful. Whether you are doing this to stock up on good karma for the help your sister and niece received, or if you’re doing this out of not realizing how lonely you’ve been, I don’t care. Altruism in the form of pity, if you will, doesn’t faze me much, if I were to be truthful. Just don’t hurt us by throwing us away as if we don’t matter to you.”
“Duly noted, Smarty Pants,” he said, feeling uncomfortable with how well and easily she read him. “The only thing I can promise is that while in my care, I shall do whatever is in my power to help the girls adjust to their new lives.”
“And me, what are you willing to help me do to get back to being in the real world after spending six years basically only talking to those two in the back seat?”
“As long as you don’t try to wipe crumbs off my face with spit on your thumb, we’ll figure it out. Willow, I’m not sure what you need. Hell, I’m not certain what I could provide other than a roof and a safe place to begin your healing,” he said. “I can offer you nothing more than my honesty to do what I can. That’s all I have.”
“Then that is what I shall expect and accept,” she said, looking out the window.
Raphael found himself holding his breath. He didn’t know what she expected him to say and again he felt like he was getting played. For the oddest reason, if Willow Rayne were in fact reeling him in for the rope a dope, he didn’t want to run away. The idea of children again being in the home where he’d grown up made him feel icky on the inside in a good way.
“Shit,” he grumbled.
“Potty mouth,” Karli said from the back seat.
“Sorry,” he replied, almost forgetting sensitive ears were in the backseat.
FROM THE OUTSIDE, THE house was nothing spectacular in Willow’s opinion. The color was desert fatigue tan, wedged in between another home and a big ass tree. The house had two floors of living space and a two-car garage under the structure. Karli and Dusty Rose thought it was the most beautiful place they’d ever seen in their short lives.
“Let me turn off the alarm before you guys get out,” he said, pressing the button to lower the garage door.
Raphael quickly exited the vehicle and punched in the code to disable the alarm. He would have to set separate ones and panic codes for each of his new guests, but right now he wanted to get inside, decompress, and think things through. Initially, his plans had been to drop them off and then run out to get a pizza. Willow suggested calling the order in ahead and picking it up on the way home, which would give the man who had driven eight hours a chance to enjoy being back in his own space.
Willow was astute.
Raphael liked that about her.
He wasn’t certain how much he was going to like having her underfoot.
“Welcome home,” he mumbled, opening the rear door for Karli. He trotted around the car to open the door for Willow as well, who he was grateful had accepted his gift of a pair of sweatpants for her and Dusty. He may be a good man, but he wasn’t dead. At 48 years old, everything worked just fine without the aid of a pill or any rubbing creams.
“Wow, this is our new house? Can I have my own room? Daddy, can we explore the house?” Karli asked, running up the stairs to open the back door. Disappointed to find it locked, she tucked the ugly unicorn under her arm, encouraging Dusty to move
faster and Raphael to open the door.
He was struggling with her unicorn suitcase, plus his own things, and weapons which needed to be cleaned before he received another phone call.
“Dusty, grab the pizzas, please,” he asked the eldest girl.
Holding onto his own gear, he struggled to climb the stairs. Willow came behind him, removing much of the load from his arms. “Thanks,” Raphael said, unlocking the backdoor.
“It feels and looks like a row house,” Willow said, taking note of all the beige and tan colors on the inside. Nothing in the house gave any sign of who Raphael Hoyt was other than he was extremely neat.
“The maid comes on Monday and Thursdays,” he told her. “She does have a key, and I will let her know you’re here.”
“A maid?” Willow asked, looking at the large stainless-steel fridge.
“Yes, it helps, with my schedule,” he said, headed for the stairs. “Make yourself at home. There are plates in the cabinet next to the stove. “Check the fridge. Marla also buys groceries. Sorry, Marla is the housekeeper. Excuse me for a minute.”
The girls were already upstairs, deciding which bedroom each was going to take. Raphael simply needed a moment alone. Willow afforded him the quiet time as she reeled in her daughters to help make the salad. As they worked rinsing vegetables, she took the time to climb the stairs herself.
A bedroom facing the rear of the home held a queen-sized bed with a salmon colored coverlet loosely draped across the base of the bed. It had been six years since she’d slept in an actual bed versus the foam mattress in the camper that had sunken in the middle and gave her back fits. The room also held a balcony that overlooked an inlet. From where she stood, she could see the boat Raphael had spoken about tied to the dock outside the back door.
“Hmm,” she said, wanting all of it to be real and not a momentary thing that she would have to give up in a few days’ time. More than anything, she craved a stable home for the girls as well as herself. The bathroom made her sigh. A deep tub with bath jets almost made Willow want to strip down and bypass the veggie pizza altogether, but it had been a very long time since she’d enjoyed the taste of hot pizza.
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