She lowered her head and sighed. A long, relieved sigh that made him anything but. It set him on edge for a reason he didn’t quite understand. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, ones that he trusted and knew. Didn’t he? Did anyone ever know anyone? Something was missing. They were open without being open, as if she was hiding something.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, brushing her cheek. “What’d I miss?”
When Landon cleared his throat loudly, Eden shied away from Mitch’s hand, turning towards the cop.
“I want to be out of here before you guys have a happy reunion that will probably take a few hours. So let’s take care of business.”
“Good idea.” Without making sure Mitch followed, she left the room. There was no, ‘I want to hold your hand,’ or even, ‘Because you’re such a weakling, I’ll help you get down the stairs’. Something had definitely happened and he needed to know what that something was. The conversation might have to wait, but they would have it.
“How long was I him?” he asked Landon, taking each stair like a hundred-and-fifty-year-old man would.
“Eight days.”
Eight days. Making it officially the longest week he’d ever spent in hell.
“We plan for every contingency,” she said as soon as they were downstairs. “He’s back, but we don’t know if it’s permanent.” She spoke differently—more matter-of-fact, less emotion. But then again, the last time he’d seen her was in the middle of a high-stress couple of days, so what the hell did he know?
Well, he knew she’d never felt this distant before. Neither one of them was in a cage, but there was empty space between them. That didn’t happen. At least, it didn’t used to happen.
He pulled her towards him. “I was out for eight days and you guys didn’t hogtie every Clinic employee, make up a PowerPoint presentation of answers, and bake me a ‘Welcome Home’ cake? What the fuck have you been doing?”
“Unsuccessfully attempting all of the above,” Landon said. “And looking for another place to stay. It’s too risky to stay in South Florida. But if Hyde comes back, we need a place to hold him, and that complicates things.”
He nodded. “The cage is a ‘just in case he gets through one system’ thing. If we can’t duplicate it somewhere else, we should have a plan B.” He should’ve set something up, back when time wasn’t such an issue, back when he had no idea he was being doped and manipulated. Another cage in another locale.
It was almost funny how ill prepared he was, how content to spend the rest of his life believing what he believed and thinking he was untouchable. Funny, but not enough to laugh. More like, funny enough to slap yourself repeatedly, hoping like hell you’re not the idiot you used to be.
“Enough chain will hold him down,” Mitch said, “provided he’s on a sturdy surface. So a big truck would work. Thread some heavy-duty chain through holes in the floor and attach them to the truck’s frame. It’ll be just like home. A mobile home.” He cocked his head. “A shitty mobile home.”
“I should’ve thought of that.” Eden stared at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Don’t feel bad, babe. Even if you didn’t spend the last week babysitting the big, mean guy, I still have you beat by about ten years.”
“As long as you have”—Landon rubbed his fingers together in the international sign for ‘the green stuff everyone wants and no one ever seems to have enough of’—“you’re useful. We’re tapped. And yes, I tried to get into your account, but the password didn’t work.”
“Your skills are slipping, cop.” Mitch took his cell phone from Landon’s outstretched hand. “My hint wasn’t big enough for you?”
“Your favorite four-letter word, right. But I tried ‘fuck’ and it didn’t work. Then I tried ‘Eden’.”
Mitch gave him a look, a mixture between doubt and WTF? “First off, I’m not that sappy.” He opened the bank app. “Second, I’m not that organized—it was set-up years ago and I never changed it. And third, I never said it was my favorite four-letters.” He winked at Eden, feeling a stupid-ass smirk of adoration on his face, but unable to avoid it. What’d he expect? Cold and aloof? He just got back from hell—it made sense he was still feeling a bit warm.
“You gonna tell us or what?” Landon asked impatiently.
Mitch spoke each letter as he punched them in. “E-V-I-L.”
Landon chuckled. “Money is the root of all…”
“You got it.” He handed the phone back to Landon. “Since there’s a good chance I will be indisposed, big, and beastly soon, you should set up your own account, something they won’t already be tracking and transfer a lot into it. Actually, set up a couple—different names at different banks. And as soon as possible, take out as much cash as you can without throwing up any flags.”
Landon’s eyes widened when he looked at the phone. “You keep that much in cash?”
“Dude, I’m a monster. Setting up a retirement plan has never been a priority. So…are we done with the business portion of the day?”
“We need to powwow about what happens next.”
“Can it wait a little while?” Mitch asked. “I got someone I need to do.”
Landon’s mouth closed, stopping whatever he was about to say as Mitch’s words sunk in. “Someone.” Then he tilted his head, a sour look on his face.
When you come back from death, every moment matters. And as much as Mitch knew they needed to leave here, as much as he wanted them to be safe, he wanted Eden more. To feel alive. He wasn’t asking for forever, just a little time. Putting off the move until he could reconnect with her wouldn’t kill anyone. So, with his eyes, he asked the cop for his help. Again. To allow him this moment with her.
Landon wiped a hand across his face and then nodded. “We’ll reconvene later.”
“I think we should talk now,” Eden said. Both men looked at her quizzically. Her whole body was tense, on edge, as if she expected the worst to happen within the next few seconds.
To say Mitch was disappointed would be like calling the sun a campfire, but he could deal with it. After all, while he was in hell, unsure about what was real and what wasn’t, she was walking though it entirely aware.
“I’ll set up the accounts.” Landon glanced at his watch. “Shit, I’m late for my meeting. Hopefully, Joe will give us something to go on. But now that you’re back, all our goals have changed. We still need a long-term solution, but we’re a lot closer to the top of the mountain. So we can take it slower and be more careful.”
Could they do ‘slow’ and ‘careful’?
“I should go with you.”As much as Mitch wanted to call it a night and crawl into bed with Eden, Landon shouldn’t be the only one doing something. And right about now, Mitch was severely lacking on the ‘getting shit done without making things worse’ front.
Landon spoke with one eyebrow higher than the other. “I’m just talking to a friend, so no babysitter necessary. Plus, you look like shit. I’m going to blame it on the last eight days…this time. Take a little time to recover.”
“But—”
“Do you think there’s a bar chart somewhere with our names on it, so we can keep track of who does what? Whose bar is the tallest? If there is, then I think you’re ahead. Because I didn’t tell you to off me if a monster didn’t do it first so that you’d be safe. That was you.”
“I also fucked a lot of stuff up that put you in positions you wouldn’t have been in.”
“If you want to keep on living, never say ‘fucked’ and talk about positions you’ve put me in.” He smiled. “I’m a big boy, Turner. I look before I jump, especially when I’m with you. Because I know who I am and I know who you are. All I’m doing is meeting a friend. Not a big deal. Not something I need a partner for. Understood?”
“Understood. For now.” But there might come a time when that bar chart looked a lot different than it did right now.
“While you’re gone,” Eden said
, “I’ll fill him in and look for a truck.”
While Landon and Eden spoke about plans for today, their phones, and normal shit, Mitch stewed in his thoughts. Still watching things from a distance, as if he no longer belonged. Here or anywhere else.
He knew he’d been out of it, knew he’d missed a lot, but something wasn’t right. She wouldn’t look at him. Her hand was limp in his, and her body was stiff. Everything they felt for each other couldn’t be gone. Not in a few days. Not in a few years. The kind of love they had lingered, changed you, implanted itself in your soul for the rest of your life.
“Right?” she asked.
“Yeah, right.” He wasn’t sure how much of their conversation he missed while he was freaking out about what he might have missed. Very productive, idiot. Highly impressive. He redirected his mind back to what she was saying.
“I know they’re good at covering things up,” Eden said, “but it would take a lot of shovels to scoop up what was left of Hyde01.”
Mitch gawked at her, not believing what she’d just said and the blasé way she’d said it. Hyde01 was her father. Mitch wasn’t able to stick around for the main event, but it couldn’t have been pretty.
“A lot of shovels,” he repeated, not wanting to imagine what Eden had seen him do to her dad but feeling like he should. For a half a second he wished he’d actually died, just so he didn’t have to face her now.
He looked at Landon. “Did you…does she know about him?”
Landon nodded. Saying thanks would have made an impossibly awkward moment even more so. But Mitch was thankful. Having to say those words to her? Nope, he couldn’t have done it. He would have stuttered, hemmed, and hawed until his lips were numb. And he still wouldn’t have gotten the words out.
But he had to say something. And it better be something good. He looked at her, swallowed, and wiped his hand over his mouth. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t making eye contact. No, not better—easier. For him. Very empathetic, asshole. Another thing he had to atone for.
“I’m…really sorry.” Yeah, not good enough. “If there had been another way, I would’ve done it.” Still sucking. “Hit me if you want to. Kick my ass.” Great, Mr. Sensitivity. Skip right to the violence—hope she doesn’t believe in an eye for an eye. “Whatever you want.”
“There are so many reasons I want to kick your ass, but that isn’t one of them.” She looked so calm, so controlled. He almost wanted to see her lash out, throw something, yell something. “You did what you had to.”
When your boyfriend kills the dad you never knew, it has to sting for a while. Unfortunately, it seemed like that sting was being shoved into the ‘I don’t want to deal with this’ section of her mind.
He was emotionally unhealthy enough for both of them. She deserved better. “It doesn’t change the fact that I killed your father.” Oh shit, I just said the words. But he was more concerned about her lack of reaction than feeling her wrath. ‘Cause holding that shit in was not productive. He knew. All too well. “You gotta have some feelings about that. Anger. Disappointment. Anger. Sadness. Anger. Or maybe—I don’t know—anger?”
Landon shook his head at each word.
She adjusted her hair as she spoke. “You did what you had to—he was a monster.”
“So am I. But he was also your father.”
“He stopped being my father before I was born.”
Okay, this is a problem. Mitch looked at Landon. “Has this been going on the whole time I was him?”
Landon didn’t answer, his face rigid, his jaw locked. She seemed relaxed, as if they were discussing something that had no bearing on her at all.
This is a big fucking problem. “Either of you want to fill me in on what the hell’s going on with you two?”
Landon threw up his hands. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. But she’s totally okay with what happened, no feelings about it at all.” Then he slapped Mitch on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, man. Now you can deal with her.” He walked to the door. “I’m surrounded by people with so many frigging issues, I’m beginning to think Carter did the right thing.”
“Carter never did the right thing,” Eden shouted to his back, the first sign of fire Mitch had seen in her.
“I meant by dying.” He threw the door open. “I’m glad you’re back, asshole. See you soon.”
Chapter IV
After a minute of staring at the door Landon had just slammed behind him, Mitch turned to face her, twisting her shoulders until she did the same. “I thought he’d never leave.” Because now he had a chance to find out what the fuck was wrong.
She kept her eyes lowered, as if his feet were the most interesting part about him.
“I thought that we were past the eye-contact thing. Actually, that was my issue not yours. So what’s wrong? Besides all of the obvious.”
“It’s not a big deal.” She brushed past him and headed for the stairs. “I’ll go start the shower for you.”
He grabbed her arm to stop her, feeling small vibrations of nervousness or fear or some other emotion he didn’t want her to have. “Are we lying to each other now?”
“No. I’m just…It’s just hard to believe you’re here and he’s not.”
“Okay, I get that. But don’t you think we should talk about what happened to your dad? What I did to him?” No one could walk away unscathed after watching a man/beast be torn apart in front of them and then discovering it was their long-lost father.
“He wasn’t my dad. He was a sperm donor. You did what you did to save me. I understand that and I’m fine.”
He wasn’t sure what to believe or what to say. People grieve in different ways and the last thing someone wants is to be told they aren’t doing it right.
“If you want to talk…” Empty fucking offer. As soon as the latest serum wore off, Hyde would want out. So Mitch would check himself back into the cage and wait. But if she changed her mind, maybe they could talk through the bars until the inevitable happened.
She looked up at him briefly, opening her mouth as if she was about to speak, to confess something to him, but then she clamped her lips down. “I don’t.”
“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you have something to say.”
Her hands fisted. “Not about Hyde01. About your Hyde. He—” She shook her head. “Later, okay? I’ll tell you later. Can you let me go now?” As soon as he released her, she was off and running. “I’ll start the shower for you.”
“What did he do, Eden?” he called. She didn’t answer. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t even look back.
What did the bastard do this time? It was always about him. Hyde. The way Mitch dealt with him wasn’t the same as she and Landon had to. Mitch never had to look at him, listen to him, or take care of him.
When he heard the water start, he took the stairs slowly, giving her time and giving him time. He didn’t know what for, but it seemed like a fairly sane thing to do. And, when that rare type of thought happened, he paid attention.
When he walked into the bathroom, she pulled her hand out of the steaming water. The room was larger than he imagined a brothel would need. Maybe it was another fantasy room—Geishas, Dominatrix, Wild West, and…a nice big bathroom for those who want naughty and probably painful things done to them with a scrub brush. And someone had provided towels, soap, and shampoo. Damn, this place had everything you could possibly want in a dump.
“It’s still a little hot,” she said, scooting her ass onto the vanity.
Was she serious? Did she really think he cared about the temperature of the water?
“I’m sure it’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was really fucking hot. But with a quick twist of a knob, he could handle it. What he couldn’t handle was seeing her across the room and knowing she was keeping something from him.
“Wanna join me?”
“Maybe later.”
His hand clamped down on the soap, sending it shooting up to the ceiling. But it was fine. He was fine. Comp
letely fine. He bent down to pick it up and proceeded to wash off the stench of his own personal demon. Maybe if he didn’t smell like Hyde, she would realize they weren’t the same guy.
Because if there was another reason she wasn’t looking at him, surely she would tell him. Right? He kept his voice calm while he talked about stupid, trivial things and washed his hair. She mumbled a few answers, and everything was just dandy. In another place…with other people…with other issues. But here, in this place, with these two people, nothing was dandy.
He blew out a breath, reminded himself to be patient, and then turned the water off. His lip was bleeding from the last few minutes of gnawing on it, but that was better than going outside and making someone else bleed.
She handed him a towel without looking at him. So he wrapped the towel around his waist without looking at her.
Give her some time and she will tell you about whatever it is. ‘Patience is a virtue’ and all that crap. He wiped the condensation off the mirror and saw his reflection. Aside from desperately needing a shave, he looked human. Not too bad. Pretty much the same as he always did. Same hazel eyes, same dark hair, same body.
“Is it the beard?” He ran his hand across his jaw.
“What?”
“Does the beard make me so ugly that you can’t stand to look at me?”
She swallowed, still looking at her feet. “No, the beard’s fine.”
He stared at the reflection of her back for one more minute.
And then he snapped. Blame it on his extended nap, or his near-death experience, or whatever the hell had happened that he wasn’t fucking privy to. But every road led to his un-goddamn-raveling.
He spun towards her and grabbed her arms. “Then have the decency to look at me and tell me what the hell I missed.” Not his proudest moment, but his proud moments were infrequent and very, very short. “Talk to me, Eden. Please.”
Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III) Page 4
