Blind Copy (The Technicians Series Book 5)

by Olivia Gaines

  Karli was back at the table ready to eat when Dusty came down and took a seat as well. She was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a Rolling Stones tee shirt. He was certain she had no idea what the stuck-out tongue meant, and he didn’t feel like explaining.

  “Anybody want eggs?” he asked.

  “No, just the waffle would be great,” Dusty said, giving him the side eye. “Daddy, you have any plans today?”

  “Teaching you to ride your bike after I take your Momma breakfast in bed since it’s her birthday,” he said. “Maybe later we can make her a gift from all of us.”

  “I think she wants to spend the day with the sewing machine,” Karli offered. “Did you see the look on her face?”

  “Yes I did,” Dusty chimed in, “and she was crying. I love mine, too, but seeing her cry made me cry. I’ve never seen her cry even when Hymn hit her hard across the face. He was so mean to Mommy. Hymn would try to kiss her and she would fight him, then he would hold her food and not let her eat. If we ever have to go back to Hymn, he’s going to really hurt her. I don’t want that.”

  “That’s why I said we need to be nice to Daddy so we can stay here Dusty. Daddy won’t let Hymn or any other bad man hurt us,” Karli added, “because he loves us and we love him.”

  “Pooh Bear, you’re laying it on pretty thick there. Slow your roll. This is your home. You can stay and grow up here,” he said.

  “Does this mean you’re going to marry Mommy?” Dusty asked.

  He held up his finger to his lips. “Ssssh, keep it a secret,” he whispered.

  Karli had no inside voice. “How you gonna keep that a secret? She has to know so she can be there and wear a pretty white dress. Plus, she needs to know if she’s got to kiss you and move into your room. She sleeps terrible. Takes up the whole bed. Dusty, does she have a pretty white dress or white shoes?”

  “Maybe I can get her to make a white dress this weekend. Daddy, you tell her she needs it for something special next week like a dinner out with your friends,” Dusty said. “Do you have any friends, Daddy?”

  “I have friends,” he said. “and we do have a thing next week. I meant to ask you guys if you can swim.”

  “Oh no,” they both said, shaking their heads.

  “The only water we had was at the creek and I don’t like the water in my face. I freaks me out every time,” Karli told him.

  “Good to know,” he said, ladling eggs onto a plate. He sliced a peach, adding it to the plate, and poured a cup of black coffee and set it on a tray. Proud of himself, he carried the tray up the stairs. When he tapped lightly on her bedroom door, she struggled to get her eyes open.

  “Good morning and happy birthday,” he said, carrying the tray around the side of the bed, where she hung haphazardly off the edge.

  “Thank you. What is all of this?”

  “Breakfast in bed,” he told her. “Every birthday and Mother’s Day, I always made my folks breakfast in bed. I would like to continue the tradition if you’re okay with that.”

  “I’m okay with it,” she said, sitting up to accept the tray. “No regrets from last night?”

  “Shit, I should be asking you that.”

  “None from over here, but I think you screwed the energy out of me. Lord, I am wiped out,” she said, smiling at him. “I’ll get up in a minute and get things going.”

  “Nope, today is your day. I’ve got the girls,” he said. “Get up when you feel like or stay in bed all day and order a movie. I’m going to take Dusty down to the beach to teach her to ride the bike. I’ll take Karli with a blanket and a book. She and Pierce can sit on the beach while I teach Dusty. Later, I’ll order some pizza for lunch and maybe some Chinese for dinner or we can go out. It’s up to you.”

  “Taking me out for dinner for my birthday. I don’t think I have anything to wear,” she said.

  “Oh, speaking of that, next week, you’re going to need a white dress for this dinner thing the guys and their wives are doing. Should I take you shopping tomorrow?”

  “No, I have to finish Karli’s dress for the dance. I can whip something together, clean, simple elegant,” she told him. “Cocktail dress or formal?”

  “Whichever is easiest and loveliest on you,” he said with a smile. “Last night...Willow. Wow. I’m not sure what to say about last night, but it was amazing.”

  “Wow is the operative word. You asked me about in or out, and I was so caught up, I didn’t think, and you do know...well, six years, there is a possibility,” she said, pressing her lips together. “A little dark-haired replica of you.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m going to have to marry you is what you’re saying,” he said chuffing. “Better finish that waffle before it gets cold.”

  “Mr. Hoyt,” she called after him, “you have a habit of ending the conversation where you want it to end versus when it is over. That still does not prevent the things that need to be said, from being spoken.”

  “I could ask, but I don’t have a ring.”

  “I’m wearing a ring- your ring. Your neighbors know me as Willow Hoyt,” she said, scowling.

  “Well, maybe Mrs. Hoyt, I want to make it official and ask in my own way in my own time. If I were to ask, would you say yes?”

  “I believe I would,” she said, sticking her chin out.

  “Okay, so I asked. You said yes, the rest, let me plan it out,” he said.

  “The white dress is my wedding dress then. Okay, I will spend the day working on it. Good to know,” she said.

  “You just sucked all the fun out, you do realize this, don’t you?”

  “Didn’t mean to, I’m not that fond of surprises since in the past it left me as a prisoner for six years,” she told him. “This is moving pretty quickly, but I’m okay with it. I’m sure as hell okay with you. When are you going to tell me what you do for a living?”

  “Willow,” he said, pausing to lean against the dresser.

  “Raphael, what you do for a living is dark and dangerous. I know it. I can feel it,” she said. “I don’t want to be blindsided in a room full of women and not be able to stand my ground. Arm me with the knowledge so I can prepare coy answers or at least clever retorts.”

  “Clever retorts,” he said, finding himself smiling.

  “Yes, like the last thing you ever want is a pink slip delivered by my husband,” she said with a wink. “If you see Mr. Hoyt coming, you know your employment has been officially terminated with extreme prejudice. Or something cheeky like that.”

  “You’re pretty close.”

  “So, tell me, Mr. Hoyt, what is it you do? You know my birthday and I never said a word. You slid inside of that compound, creating one hell of a diversion, and got us out without anyone seeing which way we went. That is specialized and connected. Well, Mr. Hoyt?” she said, using the knife to slice into the waffle.

  “Actually, my codename is Mr. Exit,” he said, watching her face. “There is Mr. Stop, Mr. Yield, Mr. Merge, Falling Rocks, Wrong Way, Mrs. Hump, One Way, Slow and of course The Mann. We are the Southeast Division of the Construction Crew working for a covert arm of the C.I.A. called The Company and we specialize in taking out the unwanted trash. Well, most of us.”

  Willow burst into laughter. She fell over in the bed, laughing so hard that the girls, Pierce, and Daniel Craig all came to investigate. The laughter was so complete that she began to choke on the waffle chunk in her mouth, forcing Mr. Exit to yank her off the bed and perform the Heimlich Maneuver.

  “Mommy, are you alright?” Karli and Dusty asked, looking at Mr. Exit for understanding.

  “Yes babies, I am just fine. Leave it to me. Leave it to me,” she said, shaking her head.

  Raphael touched her arm, “Willow, is this going to be a problem?”

  “No, it’s not,” she said laughing and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Absolutely brilliant, Willow. Absolutely brilliant.”

  He didn’t know what any of that meant. He left her alone to ponder his wo
rds, scared that he’d come back from the beach and she’d be gone, but she wouldn’t leave the girls. Moreover, he didn’t want her to leave him.

  “I proposed, kinda sorta, for Pete’s sake,” he growled, pushing the bike down to the beach, followed by his daughters and a dog named Pierce wearing a red necktie.

  “Cute dog, Hoyt-O,” Jeb Malone called out, waving.

  “Screw you,” Raphael yelled back, shooting him a bird.

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M trying to screw you, Proderick?” Rami asked the cult leader. “You paid me. I handled the matter.”

  “I didn’t pay you to leave pink glitter all over the goddamned place. That is evidence. Traceable. Contact traceable evidence that can link back to you and all those Feds have to do is find a couple chips of your pink sparkle dust here and I’m done for,” Proderick said between clenched teeth. “I should have known better than to hire an amateur like you. I needed a professional and got a side show clown.”

  “You might want to watch your mouth,” Rami said.

  “Or what, you’re going to come and drop a chemical in my cup and take me out like a bitch as we sip tea? Oh, I don’t think so. Give me back the rest of my money so I can hire someone else to find my family,” Proderick said.

  This angered Rami. He felt the same rage he felt when his wife and daughter had left him. It burned in his soul. It burned in his heart. It ached in his head.

  “They’re no longer your family, Proderick Hymn,” he said in a low tone. “Your kids are calling some other man Daddy, and that woman, who never let you touch her, is under him, sweating as he rams his thick cock inside of her time after time, night after night. She is squirting like a water gun, clawing up his back as that sweet little cunt of hers is spitting out love juices and she cries out his name. You know after how many days...six, almost seven...she may even be carrying his child.”

  “You’re an evil son of a bitch,” Proderick said bounding to his feet in anger.

  “My mother was a godly woman, married to my father until the day they passed in a car accident,” Rami said. “I’m going to find your family and send you back pictures of the woman getting banged hard by a big brute of a stud, ramming it in her every night until she walks with a limp. I’m going to get audio of your daughters calling him Daddy. You’d best hope that the man they are with is nothing like you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean, you sadistic freak?”

  “It means, Mr. Hymn, that if he’s anything like you, he’s probably figuring out a means to get away with screwing your daughters too,” Rami said, laughing. “Pay me or spend the rest of your life with me sending you those images, and I’ll find them like I said I would.”

  “Not if I find you first, you prick,” Proderick said, ending the call. His entire demeanor was off kilter after speaking with The Glitter Man and his new right hand took notice. “Find that fool. Find him and his bag of glitter and kill him where he sleeps. Now! I want him dead now!”

  “Yes, Hymn,” the men called out, scattering to the wind in search of a man who was merely sitting outside the gate, waiting for them to leave.

  Rami had played him like a fiddle as the country hicks slapped knees running about like chickens with the necks snapped. He wasn’t a bitch. The Glitter Man also had weapons. As soon as they were all gone, he was going to go inside and fill that man with more holes than a willow tree at a woodpecker’s picnic.

  “Then again, if I found his family first and sent back photos...” Rami thought, believing that killing him now would let Proderick Hymn off the hook too easily. He needed to suffer. “Walking dead...alive in his mind but unable to move. Then the photos arrive and all he can do is lie there, unable to change, processing the sound of the woman screwing another man. He would die inside at the sound of his daughters calling the other guy Daddy.”

  Two drops in his coffee would be all that it took. He’d be laid out like a paraplegic, but not yet. Find the family first. Find the family. For good measure, he would take care of the men sent to take care of him. He couldn’t have that kind of trouble on his heels.

  “What fucking fun would that be?” he asked, slipping inside the gates of the compound.

  Chapter Fifteen – Phony

  SIX TIMES SHE TRIED, and six times Dusty Rose fell into the damp sand, frowning in disgust with herself for not being able to balance the two wheels of the bicycle and her body. Pierce offered encouragement, running alongside the bike for the short distances until he gave up after the fifth try and went to join Karli on the beach blanket.

  “Punkin Puss, you’re overthinking it,” Raphael said, holding the seat of the bike and the handlebars. “I’m going to hold you and the bike so you get a feel of being in control of the handlebars and the pedals. I’m going to walk along beside you as you pedal. Ready?”

  “Ready, Daddy,” she told him, as they took off down the beach. Dusty slowly pedaled as Raphael picked up his pace from a slow walk to a steady jog. Soon he found himself running to keep the stride and, in a flash, he let go, and she was riding her bike.

  Pierce, impressed with the progress, bolted from the blanket, barking bravely at the incoming surf and the tire wheels as his mistress rode down the compacted sand. Pride filled Dusty’s face as she turned the bike heading for the spot where she’d left her Daddy, who watched her with a sense of satisfaction at the small accomplishment. He waved before trotting over and falling down on the blanket with Karli.

  “She ain’t gonna be able to get her head through a door now for real,” Karli said. “Did you know Dusty made those pants she’s wearing?”

  “Oh did she?” he asked, turning his lips downward in appreciation.

  “Yep, she used the old machine that belonged to your Mama. Now that she has one of her own, I can just see her losing her mind, making clothes every day. There is not going to be enough room in the house to accommodate all the stuff she’s going to create,” Karli said.

  “Do you have an issue with Dusty finding the thing she likes to do and having space to do it?” He asked.

  “No, not really. She’s content, but mostly, she’s no longer scared. Neither am I or Mommy,” Karli said. “When you’re not scared, you feel strong enough to try all sorts of things.”

  “What about you, Pooh Bear? Do you want to learn to ride a bike too?”

  “Naw, as Jamal said, I’m not about that life,” she said, looking at him over the edge of the book she was reading. “I’m going to wait until I’m old enough so you can teach me to drive a car. I know the one I want too.”

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” Raphael said.

  “It’s not going to cost a lot of money,” she assumed when she said it, as if she understood the value of the dollar. “I want an older car, that has a top that lets down. A convergible.”

  “You mean convertible.”

  “Is that the word? Convertible,” she repeated, looking at him. “Convertible sounds as if the car changes into a boat or something.”

  “Convertible means that it converts from one thing into another, for example, it goes from being a covered automobile to a topless automobile with little effort,” he said.

  “Oh, kind of like you converting from being a single dude to a husband and father with little effort,” she said, giving him the same look that made him buy a $70 suitcase set with a dancing, dapping unicorn on it.

  “How old are you? I seriously think you are a 50-year-old woman hiding inside of my Pooh Bear,” Raphael said, placing his large hand across her face and giving a gentle push. “Out, you demonic witch. Leave my Pooh Bear’s body. I command you!”

  Karli fell back on the blanket, giggling. The sound of her laughter hit him hard in the middle of his gut. It was the first time he’d heard it coming from the small body, a melodic sound that made him want to slay every dragon in the universe to protect her from the Theodores, Kindreds, and Hymns of the world.

  “I love the sound of your laughter,” he said, feeling squishy on the inside. His eyes r
aised, looking out at the water and searching the beach for Dusty, who was riding like a champ. In the basket was Pierce, his tongue wagging and enjoying the wind in the wide-open doggy mouth. The little fella barked on occasion to let her know he too thought it was grand. “Great, next she’s probably going to make him a mini doggy cape.”

  “She made the pajamas, which I told her was too much, but hey, it’s better than having all them kids over to the house playing that Devil music,” Karli said, pursing her lips.

  “Devil music? Seriously, you sound like a 60-year-old woman. What is up with you?” he asked looking at her.

  “Jamal said it was trap music, Daddy. And that’s exactly how I felt, trapped like the Devil was trying to dig into my soul,” she said, crinkling her little nose. “Hymn called it Devil music because he said it made men want to touch themselves and diddle with his wives. That music was like a worm digging into my ear drum. The man rapping in the trap, I couldn’t understand half of what he was saying, kept repeating himself over and over again. Jamal and Marcella sat bobbing their heads up and down as if their souls had been taken and all that was left were two shells responding to the man who kept repeating himself. Devil music Daddy.”

  “Well, when you explain like that...,” he said, watching Dusty ride up. Her cheeks were red and flushed. The salt air mixed with her sweat, crystallized the droplets on her face. “Ready to head home?”

  “Yes, I am so thirsty and so is Pierce,” she said, climbing off the bike. “Wow, this feels amazing. So free. Thank you for all of this. You can’t even start to imagine how happy this makes me.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, getting to his feet and brushing away the sand. “There’s a foot wash station ahead where Pierce can grab some water. Next time we come out, we know to bring some water bottles.”

  “Oh, I have one,” Karli said, pulling a bottle of water from her bag and passing it to Dusty. “Pierce is going to have to wait. He can’t drink from my bottle.”