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LEIF (Blake Security Book 3)

Page 15

by Celina McKane


  I smiled at her. “Ryder seems like a really good man. I’m looking forward to getting to know him and Alicia better…all of them, even Blake.”

  She laughed. “Dat Blake, he is somethin’ else. He go around with that grumpy look on his face hopin’ ta scare people off. Underneat all dat he got a heart bigger than all of ‘em put together.”

  “He’s been really good to Leif.”

  “Dat Leif, he’s a special one.”

  I couldn’t help but practically gush at the compliment—even though it wasn’t for me. “He is Granny. I’m a lucky girl.”

  “I think you must be a special girl to have a man that love you like dat. All us women need to be loved dat strongly. I think you’d hafta cut that boy’s heart out to get him to stop lovin’ you.”

  I nodded. I was coming around to that realization. I am smart enough to know that there is a fine line between love and obsession…but Leif has been proving on a daily basis that what he feels for my son and me is so much more than I ever thought I’d find. “I’m glad because my heart feels the same way about him, too. I feel bad that it took me so long to come around to that realization. Sometimes I feel like I just wasted so much time.”

  “Time ain’t never wasted, baby. Things happen when time’s ready for ‘em to happen and not a minute sooner. Dat boy was meant for you from the day he was born, but he had to go through all he did to get here because those things are wat made him dis man that you love so much.”

  “So fate has our lives decided when we’re born?” I didn’t really want to believe that. I was a big advocate of freedom and choices. If I thought about life like that, I think it might give me a sense of apathy.

  “No, baby, fate has a plan, but even fate’s plans can change. She might keep putting him in your way, but you can always make the choice to keep walkin’ away. That’s where good sense comes in.”

  I smiled again. “Thank you, Granny. That’s the best way I’ve ever heard it explained.”

  “An old woman gotta have sumthin’ she’s good at besides wrestlin’ them gators.” I laughed. I’d be willing to bet Granny was good at a whole lot more than that. It’s funny when I think about what I thought I wanted, not only as I grew up, but even after I was there. I looked over at Leif again. He had Hunter in his arms and he was spinning him around, standing in about a foot of swamp water that was probably seeping into his boots and up his pant legs. I tried to picture the man whose sperm created Hunter doing the same thing with even a semblance of a smile on his face. It was impossible. All I could see was my Leif and his beautiful, happy smile. I was going to do anything and everything to make sure that smile stayed there for the rest of his life.

  *******

  CONCLUSION

  I sat as far back into the trees and brush as I could and watched him. I hated the swamp. It stinks, and this tiny little boat the old Cajun man in Franklin sold me was so deep that I felt like I was sitting so close to the surface of that nasty water that a gator might just climb up in here with me. I’d fight him for my life because right now it was important to me. I was fighting for someone that couldn’t be here any longer to fight for himself and I had to see it through.

  I looked through the tall cattails toward where Blake was. He looked happy, which was rare and new even. I’d been following him for four years, and in the past year he’s seemed happier than ever. That’s good. I worried before that he might take his own life before I got the chance. At least now I know there are people that he cares about, and those people will be on his mind when he dies. Then he’ll finally know what the dozens of men he’d sent to their death went through.

  Some days I fantasized about being there when he drew his last breath, and other days I wondered if that would be letting him take the easy way out. I’ve had to change my plans on multiple occasions because of that Stanton woman. I have no idea what her agenda is, but if she keeps getting in the way of mine, she was going to be sorry.

  I watched him now as he played football with the kids. I wondered why he had never had any of his own, but of course he’d never had a relationship for more than a minute, at least for as long as I’ve been following him around. I was close enough earlier to hear his friend asking him for relationship advice. I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. The closest I’ve ever seen him come to having a relationship with a female is all the nights he drives all the way out here to talk to this old Cajun woman. He seems to take everything she says as the gospel. I wonder what she would tell him to do about me if he knew I’d been tailing him. I heard her say something about things only happening when the timing is right. That much I had to agree with. I’d come closer these past few weeks than I ever have to ending this with Blake…but the timing still wasn’t right. I actually kept expecting that Stanton woman to just call him up and tell him about me, but when she didn’t that was when I realized she had to have her own agenda. I’d wish her luck if I wasn’t afraid that her agenda would get in the way of mine. As it is, I’m going to have to figure out what to do about her soon, and I was leaning toward an idea I’d just gotten about using her as a prop in the plans I had for Blake. She might be just the perfect opportunity that I’ve been waiting for. Blake has been searching for her, trying to get her to meet with him so that he can assuage some of his own guilt. He wants to put a Band-Aid over the damage he’s done to so many lives, but he can’t just wash the blood off of his hands and move on with his life. He goes around acting as if his life is about helping people. Everyone around him clambers for his attention and advice as if his ideas haven’t already gotten dozens of men killed. Men who had families and lives that they’ll never be able to come home to. Somehow he has to pay, and since no one else seemed to see it, I have assigned myself as judge, jury, and executioner. I’m sure there would be dozens of families applauding me—if only I could take credit. But just knowing he was finally paying for his crimes would do my heart good. It was all that I lived for these past four years. Blake Donovan has been judged and found guilty. It’s almost time for the execution to take place.

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