Eleven
No Place Like Home
Peter Mason had always thought there was no place like home, home being The Ranch. He and his wife, Brenda, had bought the land before they were married and had spent seventeen years building, methodically turning it into their palace before she had been diagnosed with cancer. The Lord had taken her only a year after that, and during that time, they had spent very little energy working on the property and most of it fighting for her survival. In the end, they lost.
Gripping the wheel on the drive back to Midland, he glanced at the boys in the mirror. They intently viewed the screen above them as it displayed one of their favorite movies. The first weekend he had taken them out, he had been relaxed and eager to be there, happy to introduce them to the life that wasn’t theirs yet but soon would be.
This weekend, he couldn’t seem to find the same focus, and part of his attention constantly returned to the apartment and the girl he had left there. I wish to God she hadn’t been part of this deal. But his heart kept telling him she needed a place to belong. Deserves it as much as these guys do.
Shifting his eyes back to the road, he inhaled deeply and allowed the breath to slowly escape. I’m sure she’s fine. However, he had an uneasy feeling that she wasn’t and had packed the boys up early in a rush this time to get home and check on her.
Mentally retracing what had happened since the fateful call that had bound all of their lives on a new course, he knew the girl hated him. Or what I represent, in the least, he corrected himself. She doesn’t want to be here, and I don’t blame her. Pete knew the pain that his older charge faced and what it would take for her to overcome it.
Pulling into the parking area, he found an empty spot and climbed out to help the boys. “All right, gentlemen, get all your stuff an’ take it inside.” He grinned, watching them gather their trash, aware that his sister had in fact done a fine job of raising them, despite the differences the two of them had shared. She was a good mom. I gotta give her that.
At the top of the stairs, he stopped and surveyed the ground below him, not really comfortable surrounded by the buildings that made up the rest of the complex. Deep down, he knew it had been the right thing to do, getting the apartment so Bailey could finish school. However, after next year, he fully intended to take the boys and move to The Ranch permanently, where they would be home-schooled, along with the rest of the children in his small, close-knit community.
Making his way inside, Pete could feel his pulse in his neck, his instincts on edge. He knew that his niece had been behaving strangely and quickly concluded her actions held deception. She had started leaving much too early to catch the bus, and he wondered where she actually went for the extra fifteen or twenty minutes each day. Not that it’s enough time to get in any real trouble, he debated with himself. But still, he could not resist the feeling that something wasn’t right.
Making his way to the back of the apartment and his own room, he noted that the place was deserted and the girl nowhere in sight. Surely she didn’t go in to work this early. It’s barely after four. Gathering the laundry, he tried to put his mind at ease by taking care of some chores. Tackling the bathrooms, his thoughts continued to darken his mood, and eventually he gave up.
“Come on, boys,” he called loudly. “It’s dinner time. Maybe we can eat over at Bailey’s work an’ surprise her,” telling himself at the same time he wasn’t really checking up on her. We’re just going to eat.
Standing in line a few minutes later, Peter did his best to hide his relief that she was indeed where she should be. “Hey, Bailey-girl, what’s good in this place?” He spoke warmly, holding his smile in place as a look of terror crossed her features.
“Uncle Peter!” she replied breathlessly. “What’re you guys doing here? I thought you would be at the ranch until tomorrow!”
“We decided to cut the trip short,” he explained her confusion away. “So give us three dinners, preferably somethin’ these guys will like.” He teased her slightly, pulling out his wallet and handing her his card. “You look a little tense. Is everything ok?”
Swiping the plastic and handing it back quickly, she stammered, “Everything’s fine. Your number’s four eighty-six. They’ll call you shortly.” Turning her attention to the next person in line, she dismissed her relation without another word.
Taking their cups, Pete led the boys into the dining area where they prepared their drinks and chose a table. Sliding into his chair, he noticed the blond man who watched them intently, and gave him a short nod. The crowded dining room seemed a bit noisy for studying, but he noted that the young man seldom looked up from his thick book and stacks of paper.
Eight hours later, Bailey stepped out into the night air, shivering slightly.
“You cold?” a familiar voice pierced her thoughts, and she spun around to face Caleb squarely.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded loudly. “Maybe I didn’t make myself plain earlier, but you have no business following me!”
“Relax, Bailey.” He shifted his backpack higher onto his shoulder. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I jus’ wanna make sure you make it home, ok?” He stared at her with steel grey eyes that cut through the dim light.
Chewing her lip slightly, she considered banging on the glass and asking for help, but something about his flat calm told her she was being foolish. “My uncle’s at home, waiting for me,” she said loudly.
“Ok.” He bobbed his head. “Sounds good. I wadn’t plannin’ on goin’ in. I’m walkin’ ya t’ the door.”
Lifting her chin, Bailey pushed past him and headed towards the stop light to punch the button and wait for the signal to change. Clutching her purse, she tried to get more details on her self-appointed bodyguard, noting that he stood about six foot tall and appeared heavily muscled in build. No wonder he had taken Ked down so easily.
Of course, I bet Caleb has a bit more experience on top of being bigger. “How old are you?” she demanded with a huff as they reached the other side of the street.
“I’m twenty-one,” he kept his reply short, hoping to rebuild her trust. She cut her eyes over at him, taking long strides in her haste. “How old are you?” he asked, noting they were approaching the darker shadows where she had been attacked the night before.
Bailey swallowed hard, determined to walk down the path and not let her fear get the better of her. “I’m sixteen,” she replied smoothly. “My birthday falls the last week of school most years, and I’ll be seventeen.”
“So, you’re a junior?”
“Yes. I’ll be a senior next year, and then I’m off to college.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice, relieved to have reached the stairs to her balcony. “Well, here we are. Thanks for walking me home.” Her words were clipped, and she didn’t wait for a reply, mounting the steps and stomping up them loudly, leaving him in the darkness below.
Inside, Bailey shut the door, letting out a startled squeak, which she quickly stifled. “What’re you still doing up?” It was half-past midnight, and she had fully expected him to be asleep.
Peter sat staring at her, reclined in his favorite location. He still wore his jeans but had removed his shirt, exposing his tuft of greying brown chest hairs, another of his habits the girl found irksome. He closed his magazine slowly, taking his time and not giving her a response.
Bailey shifted nervously, unaccustomed to seeing half-naked men, even ones related to her. “Can you at least put a shirt on? You know, we didn’t parade around our house half nude! You’re setting a terrible example for the boys!”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” Her uncle nodded slightly. “Your parents were a bit uptight about all sortsa things.” Tossing the glossy pages aside, he indicated the other end of the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat. Let’s have us a little talk.”
“A talk? About what?” she spat at him, growing angry that he refused to comply with her request.
Leaning forward, Peter rested his fo
rearms on his knees. “The bruises on your face for starters. Have you been in a fight?”
Bailey’s mouth fell open, and she made a loud gasping noise, wrinkling her nose in protest. “Bruises? What the hell are you talking about?”
Leaping to his feet, his voice boomed, “Siddown!”
Trembling, the girl slid around the end of the sofa and perched on the edge of the brown cushion. “Ok, I’ll sit,” she stammered. “You don’t have to shout. You’ll wake the boys!”
“The boys’re fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me? Really, I’m ok!” she lied without hesitation.
He ran his fingers through his sandy waves. “No, you’re not. But you’re too young to see it.” Sitting, leaning on his arms again, Pete’s voice softened. “Now, from the beginning. What happened to your face? And don’t leave anything out.”
Staring at the man before her, Bailey could feel the moisture building in her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten in trouble…for any reason. She had always been a good girl, and having people raise their voices at her was something she had rarely experienced.
Finally, after a few minutes of internal struggle, she tried to explain. “I can’t tell you.” A tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek. “All I can say is I’m sorry. I know that I screwed up, and it won’t happen again.”
Shaking his head, Pete folded his hands, rubbing them together. “I wish I could believe that,” his voice low, almost a whisper, “but this is a big responsibility, an’ I can’t afford to screw it up. Please, tell me what happened.”
Drawing a ragged breath, the floodgates opened, and she sobbed, wiping at the streams angrily. “I told you. I screwed up. I met a boy and was stupid, and he thought…and I let him think…and when I changed my mind, he got all upset.”
She could see her uncle’s hands clenched into fists.
“Stop being pissed off!” she bit sharply. “It’s over. It’s done with! And I probably won’t ever see him again!” she flung the words at him, in the same instant aware that she would see him again, Monday morning in fact, when they got on the bus. The realization froze her features in horror, and she knew that she was sunk.
“I’m taking you to school in the mornings,” her uncle replied firmly. “And I’ll be there to pick you up when it lets out. I’ll walk you to work, and afterwards I’ll be there to pick you up.”
“You can’t do that! What about the boys? They need to be in bed by the time I get off work!”
He stared at her for a moment, wanting desperately to demand that she quit her job but knowing it would be a mistake to make such a request. Swallowing, his Adam’s apple moved up and down, and he folded his hands in front of his face to tap on his lips with the edges of his fingers, obviously lost in thought.
Seeing her opportunity to make amends, she began to plead, “I promise. I won’t get in anymore trouble. You can pick me up from school and take me. I’ll go straight to work and come straight back, and Caleb can walk me home again, too!”
“Who’s Caleb?” he demanded wryly.
Oh, shit! Her mind jolted to an abrupt stop. “He’s...another guy,” she replied lamely, suddenly aware that her plan had been wrong from the start and that going home to her grandmother had never been an option no matter how much trouble she got into. “Look, uh...can I go get a shower, please? I promise I’ll tell you everything when I get out.”
“You’ve got ten minutes,” he replied curtly while rising to his feet. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the table, he slammed the front door behind him.
Twelve
Poker Face
Bailey removed the makeup from her flesh and examined the lines that were easily distinguished on her left cheek; they looked like fat fingers. Exhaling a deep sigh, she turned on the water and took her shower, washing her auburn locks and allowing the warm cascade to flow over her. Leaning her head against the wall, she wanted to cry, surprised to find the tears that had fallen like rain only moments before seemed to have been spent.
A loud bang at the door startled her, and she lifted her chin. “Yes?”
“Time’s up!” her uncle’s voice called from the other side.
“Ok,” she replied weakly, turning the valve and reaching for her towel. A few minutes later, and dried for the most part, she put on her pajamas. Taking the cloth with her to dab her damp hair, she made her way out to the front room, where she could see him setting up the coffee pot through the window. Moving to stand at the table, she obediently waited for him to look at her. She no longer felt afraid of what he would say; whatever it was, she deserved it.
Turning to face her, he indicated the table before he noticed her bruised cheek, the handprint dark against her pale flesh, and demanded loudly, “Did Caleb do that to you?”
“No!” She shook her head profusely. “Caleb saved me. He pulled Ked off of me…and beat him up.”
“Ok.” Pete’s hands shot up to his hips. “So who’s Ked?”
Bailey hung her head as she pulled out a chair. “Ked’s a boy from school. He’s got these giant rings in his ears and wears one in his nose, too.” She stared at her lap as she described the events, recalling what she could and then sitting quietly, waiting to receive her uncle’s wrath.
After the pause grew long, Peter got to his feet and poured himself a cup of the hot liquid. “Would you like some?” he asked calmly.
Looking at him, Bailey could see the frown on his profile. “I’ll take a glass of water. I don’t really like coffee.”
“Good girl,” he praised, turning to the fridge to fulfill her request. “So…” He sat the drinks on the table and reclaimed his seat. “What should I do about this?”
She stared at him with wide eyes. “Why the hell are you asking me?”
“Because you’re the one who fucked up,” he stated forcefully. Drawing a deep breath, he struggled to keep his composure. “An’ since I’m brand new t’ the whole parent business, I thought I’d find out what you had in mind. What would they do about this?”
Bailey stared at him, her tear supply renewed. “I would never have done this to them.” Her lip quivered, and she begged, “I’m so sorry, Pete. Please forgive me!”
“Aww, honey.” He reached for her, clasping her fingers and cupping them between his hands. “We all make mistakes.” He had feared she was acting out because her parents were dead, and having the suspicion confirmed didn’t make him feel any better. “So when you got into trouble, how’d they punish you?”
She stared at him, swallowing hard. “I never got into trouble. I did…what they expected me to do. I had my friends and my own life, and they pretty much left me to it.”
“An’ now all that’s gone,” he finished for her.
“Yes.” She wriggled her digits away from him. “I feel…really lost right now. Part of me wants to go home, but deep down, I don’t think that would fix any of this. They’re gone, and they’re not coming back.”
Peter stared at the girl with a perfect poker face, his raw emotions completely unreadable. It had been three years since he lost his bride, and it had taken him the better part of that time to make it as far as this girl had done in a matter of weeks. “No,” he finally managed to reply softly, “they aren’t. It’s down to us—you, me, an’ the boys. We have to make the best of it ’cause there aren’t many options left if we can’t make this work.”
“Then we have to make it work,” she agreed with a sniff.
“Ok.” He slapped the table with an open palm. “I’ll be taking you t’ school an’ picking you up. I’ll allow you to walk to work an’ walk home, but I expect to find you where you’re supposed to be at all times, an’ believe me I’ll be checking! And I want you to stay away from this Ked character. Don’t talk t’ him—period!”
“What about Caleb?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know. Tell me about him.” He folded his hands impatiently, his irritation still
evident.
“He comes to the shop every night to study. He’s taking some class, and he has a job. I talked to him yesterday when I got to work, and he seems nice. He said he wants to look out for me, and he walked me home last night.”
“So, where does he work?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” She avoided telling him that she had cut their conversation short when Caleb had given her the creeps by admitting to following her home.
“Then I wanna meet him,” Peter replied stubbornly.
“Ok. He’s at the shop every day, like I said. You can come over there and talk to him, or if he walks me home tomorrow night, I can ask him in to meet you.” The idea of the second scenario gave the girl an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she hoped that would not be the course of action her uncle preferred.
“I’ll come t’ the store,” he finally decided, noting that the girl exhaled loudly at the news as if she had been holding her breath. “What time does he arrive?”
“It’s really hard to say.” She shrugged. “It’s different times. Maybe at eight or nine you could come over. I’d say that he’ll be there by then.”
“All right, then it’s settled. I guess you can head off t’ bed.”
Getting to her feet, Bailey could feel a lump that remained in her gut. Things may have been settled, but for her, they were far from over. Slowly making her way to the sink, she emptied her glass and placed it in the dishwasher.
“Bailey,” her uncle called her softly, and she lifted her chin to look at him. “I know who Caleb is,” he said with a short nod.
Her green eyes grew wide, and she could feel the flush crawling up from her chest. “What do you mean you know who he is?”
“He’s the son of a friend o’ mine.” Peter blinked rapidly. “I arranged for him to come to help me keep an eye on you since I wasn’t really sure how you were going to behave, especially after you took a job the second day you were here.”
Rendered (Irrevocable Series Book 1) Page 7
