Depends on Who's Asking

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  It was on mute, just in case whatever we said could be heard on the other end of the line.

  Each second that passed, however, with no sound coming from the other end of the line, was digging a deep hole in my chest cavity.

  “This is getting…”

  There was a sharp crack on the silent phone line, and then I was staring at the phone with trepidation.

  “Oh, fuck,” I heard someone say. “He’s been shot.”

  “Clear!” I heard another man say.

  “Female’s dead,” I heard yet another person say.

  That’s when I lost my lunch in Luke’s garbage can.

  My mother was dead. That had to be the ‘female’ that the man was talking about.

  There was no one else that it could be.

  “Man’s alive,” I heard said. “Pulse is thready, but it’s there.”

  Five minutes passed as everyone hustled around in the background, and only when I heard Sierra’s phone ring, did I finally hang up my line.

  “Hello?” I practically moaned, voice gruff, belly still roiling.

  “Your mother was shot in the head,” Teller told me softly. “She was dead when we arrived. Your father was shot in the left chest. He’s alive, but we’re not sure if he’s going to stay that way.”

  I pressed my clammy hands to my closed eyes and tried to will the tears to go away.

  My parents weren’t the best of parents. There were times that they’d made my life a living hell thanks to all the media and shit that comes on when dealing with your father being the president. And even though I’d emancipated myself, joined the military, and disappeared from their life didn’t mean that I loved them any less.

  It just meant that I didn’t want that lifestyle anymore. And this was why.

  “Do you know anything that happened?” Teller asked.

  I swallowed hard and said, “Put the phone on speaker. Let me talk to Phillipe and Daniel. Or at least let them hear.”

  I pressed my hands to my forehead again, balling them into fists as I thought about what I was about to say.

  They wouldn’t believe me.

  This was going to be a huge blow to them.

  But I knew what my dad said.

  “They’re here,” Teller murmured.

  I opened my eyes and explained to them what I’d explained to Luke when I’d arrived in his office forty-five minutes ago.

  There was a long stretch of silence.

  “You’re sure your dad said Brad?” Phillipe asked, sounding as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

  Probably about how I felt.

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “He said that. I know he said that.”

  Daniel started to curse. “You need to leave home, Saint.”

  I was already shaking my head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “You need to,” he tried again. “This could very well go badly for you. If it was really Brad who did this, he’s highly skilled, Saint. He’s not going to be some random infidel that you met out in the desert. And he’s not going to be some dumbass that is holding someone hostage. This is bigger than you think if Brad is involved.”

  I knew that, too.

  “I can’t leave,” I denied. “I won’t.”

  I couldn’t leave because I had to stay here and make sure that Carolina stayed safe.

  I wouldn’t be able to date her, though.

  Brad may suspect that she meant a little something to me, but he didn’t have confirmation. If I didn’t pursue her, maybe he’d leave her alone.

  The idea definitely had merit.

  In the end, though, I decided to stay.

  What I didn’t decide to do was allow Carolina to know what was going on.

  It was best for her to believe that I just wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with her.

  Easier said than done.

  CHAPTER 11

  It’s almost time to switch from your regular anxiety to your fancy Christmas anxiety.

  -Caro to Saint

  CAROLINA

  I looked at my empty fish tank, the one that used to be filled with hundreds of dollars of expensive saltwater fish, and frowned.

  “All right, honey bear.” My mother pressed her lips to my cheek. “I’m going to go home now. Let me know if you need anything. And make sure you set your alarm. We don’t want you getting into trouble. Are you sure you don’t want me to have your brothers stay over?”

  I was already shaking my head. “No, Mom. But thank you.”

  Especially not when I fully expected Saint to come over.

  Honestly, I was downright giddy.

  I couldn’t wait for him to be here, in my space, without the threat of freakin’ Ebola hanging over our heads.

  Maybe he would want to go get ice cream…

  “Carolina,” my mother said, interrupting my thoughts of Saint and ice cream. “Are you even listening to me?”

  I smiled as I turned to look at her. “I was thinking about going out for ice cream. Do you know how long it’s been since I did that?”

  “Twelve days?” she drawled.

  I snickered. “Yes, it’s been twelve long dang days. I didn’t realize how addicted I’ve become to Andy’s.”

  My mother patted me on the hand. “You’re the only weirdo I know that’ll go out, even when it’s the coldest it’s ever been, and sit there and enjoy ice cream.”

  That was true. No matter how cold it was, I would always enjoy having ice cream. In fact, it didn’t matter if it was snowing outside. Nor raining. I’d sit outside and enjoy that ice cream—though if it was raining. I’d do it from underneath the awning.

  Ice cream just wasn’t the same if you didn’t eat it the moment that you got it.

  “They came out with a new cookie one that your father and I really enjoyed.” Mom paused in the process of picking up her purse. “Actually, I enjoyed it. He used that insane amount of discipline to only eat a small bite of it, and honestly, I didn’t really want to give even that to him at the time. It was really that good.”

  The plans that I wanted to do with Saint were slowly solidifying the more she spoke.

  And by the time that she left, I’d already worked myself into a good excitement over the fact that I was going to get to do those things any time now.

  Except, the hours rolled past, one minute after the other, until it was well past time that I thought he was going to come over.

  When he didn’t, I started to get worried.

  So worried, in fact, that I was nearly in my car and driving over to Cop Row, the line of duplexes where quite a few SWAT members lived, before I could even decide fully what I was doing.

  Hell, I was halfway there when my phone started to ring.

  Sadly, it wasn’t who I thought it would be.

  Placing my finger against the answer button, I quickly pressed it and put it on speaker before continuing to drive.

  “Hello?” I answered, sounding distracted.

  I was.

  Not only was I in a hurry to get to Saint now that I’d made the decision not to wait on him, but I was also being followed way too closely by the car behind me.

  My eyes went to the rearview mirror where a man began to tailgate me.

  “Carolina.”

  It startled me to hear Saint’s voice coming out of my phone when I’d fully expected to hear Sierra, not a man.

  “Saint, hey,” I gasped. “What’s going on? Why are you on Sierra’s phone?”

  There was a long stretch of silence before he said, “Uh, I asked her if I could borrow it.”

  I blinked. “Oh, okay. I guess that makes sense seeing as we never exchanged cell phone numbers, huh? Who would’ve thought that we’d need them?”

  When you were practically living with someone in a one-room area, needing their cell phone number was rather overkill.

  What was I going to do? Call him from the gym?

  “Uh, yeah.” Saint cleared his throat. He sounded tired. “Listen, Caro. I’ve done a lot
of thinking over the last couple of hours, and I think that what we had went a little too fast for me. I think that I’m going to take a couple of days to cool off.”

  My foot drifted off the accelerator as I slowly searched for somewhere to pull over.

  Was Saint breaking up with me?

  “Ummm,” I said as I turned into the nearest parking lot, which hilariously happened to be the police station. “Are you… what?”

  I likely sounded confused.

  I was confused.

  Where had that come from?

  “Things are just really busy right now with it being Christmas. I have a shit ton of stuff to do since I’ve been off for twelve days. You’re likely backed up as well. I was hoping that we could revisit us after the holiday,” he explained.

  He was breaking up with me.

  If you could call what we had a relationship.

  Maybe what we had really was all in my head. Maybe I had made it out to be more.

  But it wasn’t like I went around giving my body to just anyone.

  I’d had a thing for Saint for a very long time. And it wasn’t something that I would’ve gone into lightly.

  “O-okay,” I said the only thing I could say. “Well, bye then.”

  I hung up before he could say something else to make me feel like shit.

  And, in the end, the stupid cookie ice cream sundae didn’t even cheer me up.

  • • •

  “I’m fine.” I blew my nose. “I’m healthy, and I’m home. There’s nothing else I could ask for at this point.”

  Nothing else that I would debase myself to ask for, anyway.

  I’d said my peace when it came to Saint Nicholson.

  I couldn’t do anything else but what I’d already done—which was give him what he wanted.

  And, to make matters worse, I was talking to myself.

  The Hallmark movie that I was watching switched to a commercial, and it was then that I realized that even Hallmark cheesy Christmas movies wouldn’t be cheering me up today.

  I was doomed.

  If that didn’t work, I wasn’t sure what would.

  That’s when I burst out crying, again, because of course I would do this.

  I was a loser when it came to dating.

  I’d had sex with all of two people in my life.

  One, my short-term boyfriend that I’d been friends with for years before that, and Saint.

  And boy, did I realize what I was missing now that I’d been with Saint.

  Sex with my ex-boyfriend had never been that good.

  Which, might I add, was likely part of the problem.

  Saint was a great person. He was sexy as hell.

  And he didn’t want me.

  I sniffled and wiped my eyes with the corner of my sweatshirt.

  A sweatshirt that I’d inadvertently stolen from Saint before he’d taken off to go home.

  I was honestly glad that I’d accidentally grabbed it instead of mine.

  I’d never give it back, and more than likely, it would be the only thing that I had left of him to remember him by.

  I wiped my eyes and tried to will myself to get it under control and had only half succeeded when there was a knock at the door. I turned and looked at it with horror.

  “Who is it?” I called out.

  There was a long pause and then, “It’s Sierra.”

  I frowned as I got up, my feet all but shuffling on the shag carpeting as I made my way to the door.

  I swung the door open and frowned hard. “Yes?”

  Sierra’s lips twitched. “I know by now you’ve figured out that I was with Saint today.”

  I had.

  That was partially why I was mad at her. She knew something and had refused to tell me what it was.

  Then Saint had called and broken the news that he didn’t think we should be friends any longer, and now I was pissed because Sierra was my friend. Not Saint’s.

  “I just wanted to come over here and tell you that nothing is as it seems,” she said. “Something more is going on. He came over frantic today, wanting to borrow a phone. I let him, and he disappeared back to his truck. Something bad happened, Caro. Something really bad. And I think that he’s suffering all alone right now. I don’t want you to give up on him. Saint’s a good guy.”

  I frowned hard at that.

  “That’s why he called me from your phone?” I wondered.

  She nodded.

  “I think so. Yes,” she said. “At least, that’s what I’m assuming. He kind of took off with my phone and I didn’t see him for hours. When I finally got it back, he looked like he’d been run over by a freight train. Before I left to go home with Malachi for the night, I saw him loading up his truck with a bag and leaving.”

  Now I was even more curious.

  But, saying that, if Saint wanted me to know, he’d tell me.

  At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

  But long minutes after Sierra left, I was second-guessing myself.

  Had I made the right decision? Should I have gone and checked on him?

  It was true what Sierra said. He’d sounded haggard on the phone.

  What had happened to cause the abrupt change in attitude?

  I was so focused on trying to distinguish truth from falsehood that I hadn’t even realized I never returned to my earlier seat until I was interrupted. Again.

  There was another knock on the door, and this time I almost slammed it in the man’s face.

  “Hello.” He smiled. “I’m here to help you get this tree in here?”

  I looked at the tree and almost told him to shove it up his ass.

  Instead, I opened my door wide. “Of course, come on in.”

  I mean, I didn’t have a tree. And it definitely didn’t make sense to get one now.

  So what if that tree held some memories I’d rather not think about?

  It was still a beautiful tree.

  “You were part of the CDC people that we were with this week?” I asked conversationally as I tried to hide my discomfort.

  The man nodded his head, his eyes a little tight as he said, “I am. We’re cleaning out all of the rooms. But I was told that this tree needed to go to your place.”

  I scratched the side of my face with my long fingernails, even more uncomfortable when he pushed all the way inside my house and looked around.

  I stepped off to the side of the entrance and pointed at the spot.

  “If you just want to drag it in here…” I stopped when I saw him come in with the tree.

  They’d plastic wrapped it so that everything stayed in place while they’d transported it.

  Within seconds he had the tree standing up where I wanted it, and he was taking off the plastic wrap.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Saint’s on the way over. I’ll get him to help me when he gets here in a few minutes.”

  I wasn’t sure what made me say that, but I could’ve sworn that I saw the man get a squinty-eyed look before he nodded his head.

  “In that case, I’ll leave you to it,” the man forced out a grin. “If you can think of anything you need besides what I brought you—the rest is on your front porch by the way—you can call me. My number is right there on the top of those boxes.”

  I watched him go and knew that the man hadn’t liked either A, me or B, the mention of Saint.

  I was betting on Saint.

  I wondered idly how Saint knew him, or the man knew Saint.

  “Thank you so much,” I said as I walked him to the door.

  He reached for the doorknob but froze in the open doorway.

  “Take care now, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t want to see you back there.”

  I didn’t want to be back there.

  I didn’t say anything to his pronouncement, though. Instead, I just nodded my head, smiled a weird smile that likely looked just as forced as it felt, and waited for him to leave enough that I could close the door.

  Eve
ntually he did, and I was left with a sinking feeling that something about that man didn’t sit well with me.

  CHAPTER 12

  All I want for Christmas is a blow job.

  -T-shirt

  SAINT

  Christmas parties had never really been my thing.

  Despite my name being quite festive, that was really all that I had going for me.

  When I was younger, Christmas at whatever house we happened to be in, whether it be one of the random houses that we’d lived in for the year or the White House, had always been for show.

  There’d been too fucking much posturing for me to ever really get into the Christmas spirit.

  I remembered our first Christmas at the White House.

  I hadn’t realized just how fucking big Christmas was there, but after leaving one day for school, and coming back beaten to a pulp, the last thing I’d expected was to walk into a Winter Wonderland.

  My mother had transformed the damn place. She’d had over seven hundred Christmas trees added while I was at school and don’t even get me started on the damn lights that were strung up in such a copious quantity that I had to cover my face with a pillow for a month.

  Needless to say, when I rolled up at the Kilgore Police Department’s annual Christmas party, the very last thing I had on my mind was being festive.

  I’d spent the day planning my mother’s funeral.

  President Thurgood, the current man in charge of the United States, had loaned me Air Force One to get my mother home to Galveston—the place that they’d settled after losing the presidency reelection.

  That’d been where I was over the last few days, preparing my mother’s funeral, having a very small ceremony despite everyone and their brother urging me to have something more. I’d then flown a couple of hours to the opposite side of Texas, the place where my mother and father had their cabin, to visit my father.

  He was in critical condition.

  Phillipe and Daniel had him in round-the-clock protection and gave me hourly updates on his welfare.

  So far, Brad hadn’t shown back up. But that wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t.

  I just hoped him not showing up there didn’t mean that he was here, paying attention to how much I sat outside a particular someone’s house for hours on end making sure she was safe.