by Beth Flynn
Ginny shook her head. “No. No. Mimi wouldn’t do that, Grizz.”
She could tell by his expression that he knew she was right. “Give me five minutes. Okay?” What he couldn’t say was that if Mimi not arriving at the camp had anything to do with his past, he wouldn’t want to alert whoever his daughter might be with. The person whose neck Grizz planned on snapping.
“Yeah, okay,” Ginny said as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. It was then that she realized she was still nude. She made her way to her dresser and pulled out some clothes to occupy herself while Grizz opened the safe and made the call.
Less than twenty minutes later, they were in their truck and heading toward an address provided by Bill.
"Slow down, Grizz!" Ginny screamed. "You're going too fast on these roads. It's below freezing."
"We didn't get that much snow and what we did get melted off. The roads are fine," he answered, looking over at her. "Bill knows more than he's telling me," he growled.
"What makes you say that?" she asked, her eyes wide as she watched her husband's determined profile.
"It's just a feeling, Kit. And I don't have to tell you that it's not sitting well with me."
"Grizz, if Bill isn't telling you something, I think we can assume it's for your own good. Or Mimi's own good. He's been your most trusted ally since you were in prison." She swept her hand through the air. "He plays the most important role in keeping up the façade of your death. He's the only reason we can use a laptop." She sighed before adding, "I doubt we'd be able to go online if I didn't have the laptop Bill made especially for us. It's untraceable, no microphones or cameras. You know, all that computer stuff I don't understand."
Ginny noticed when her words started to sink in and she saw Grizz's jaw relax. "If Bill thought Mimi was in danger, he would've sent a helicopter to pick us up!" she added. Ginny knew her suggestion sounded outlandish, but not where Bill was concerned. Her words to Grizz were reassuring, and a calmness settled over her before she added, "Please don't speed, Grizz. The last thing we need is for you to get stopped for speeding in South Carolina."
He reached over and squeezed her thigh. "You've always been my voice of reason, baby."
She smiled and reached for his right hand which had found its way to her left knee. She started to grab it when he pulled it away.
"But not tonight, Kitten," he told her as he clutched the steering wheel with both hands and pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard.
Chapter 35
Pumpkin Rest, South Carolina 2007
I was dreaming and I couldn't see anyone, but I could hear them.
"Oh, Christian, tell me you did not do that to her face."
I hadn't heard her voice for years, but in my dream, I immediately recognized it as belonging to Christian's mother, Aunt Christy.
"And her wrists. Is that bruising?"
"Of course I didn't do that to her face," came Christian's reply. In the fogginess of my dream I could tell he'd been offended by her comment. "Not deliberately," he quickly added.
It sounded like there was a scuffle of some sort when I heard Uncle Anthony's voice. It was low and menacing. "What does not deliberately mean?"
"Let him go, Anthony!" Aunt Christy shouted. "Stop it!"
My eyes popped open and I sat straight up. I had to be dreaming. But I would quickly realize what I’d heard was all too real. My gaze immediately landed on Uncle Anthony who was towering over Christian, who had him by the scruff of the neck. The material of Christian's long-sleeved T-shirt collar was scrunched up tightly in his father's big, brown fists.
"Don't!" I yelled while simultaneously rising from the makeshift bed. The mattress was soft beneath my feet and I started to lose my balance when I felt a hand grab my arm. It was Aunt Christy. She looked exactly as I remembered. An attractive blonde with chin-length straight hair and engaging blue eyes. Just like Christian's.
I watched as Uncle Anthony relaxed his hold on Christian. In turn, Christian brought his hands up between his father's and roughly knocked them loose. Uncle Anthony's expression darkened, and I thought he was going to retaliate at Christian's dismissal, when Aunt Christy shouted, "Enough!"
The next few minutes were a blur as conversations were scrambled and we all talked over each other.
"Quiet!" I shouted above the commotion. All eyes turned to me and I launched into the fictional explanation I'd prepared to tell my parents. I should've known better. I wasn't dealing with two people who would've been oblivious to Christian's history.
"I'm pretty sure Christian hasn't picked up a fishing pole in his life," Uncle Anthony countered, giving me a stern look. "And if he did, he wouldn't have violated his parole for the catch of the day."
I exhaled loudly and slowly shook my head. "I'm sorry. You're right. But it's not my place to explain it to you. And before you give Christian a hard time, please understand that I'm not a victim here." Pointing to my face, I added, "And so you know, this really was an accident. The bruises on my wrist weren't, but Christian can tell you everything." I looked from Uncle Anthony to Aunt Christy, whose face softened. Looking back at Christian's father, I noticed that his hadn't.
I glanced around the room and realized that a very subtle glow was coming from the skylights. The sun was starting to come up and if the light hadn't been a reminder that it was time to rise, my full bladder was. It also dawned on me that I wasn't wearing a bra and I quickly crossed my arms over my chest. I chanced a peek at Christian who was smiling at me. I secretly thanked God that we hadn't fallen asleep without our clothes on. This could've been so much worse. I knew he'd read my mind when he winked at me. I stifled a smile.
"I'll leave the three of you to talk." I excused myself and scurried toward the master bedroom. Once inside I grabbed a bra and headed for the freezing bathroom. "Thank goodness for overhead heat lamps," I whispered to nobody as I hastily put on my bra and pulled my thermal top and nightshirt back on. I was curious as to how Christian's parents were handling his explanation as I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and combed my hair. I wonder how they knew we were together and where we were? Would Bill have figured it out and contacted them without going to my parents first? I stopped mid-stroke and laid down my hairbrush. Something felt off. I opened the bathroom door and suppressed a gasp.
Their voices were unmistakable as they drifted in from the great room. My parents were here. There was a cacophony of voices and words jumbled together, but one stood out above the rest. It was my father, and he was mad.
"Where is she?" he shouted.
"She's in the bathroom. She's fine, Grizz," came Aunt Christy's soothing voice. "And we're just as upset as you. We didn't know and just found out ourselves. We flew in as soon..."
"You don't look very surprised to see your old friend is still alive." It was Christian's voice, and it was laced with sarcasm. I knew he was talking to his parents. But I didn't want to divert attention away from our situation. I wanted to address it head on. It was time to make myself known.
I made my way to the open bedroom door and assessed the room. My mother and Aunt Christy were standing off to the side of the men, talking in whispers. Uncle Anthony was standing next to Christian who had his arms crossed and his chin raised. My father was right in his face, and his shouting had died down to a low rumble.
"I don't know what the fuck is going on here, but as soon as I talk to my daughter—"
My father's words were cut off when my mother gasped. She'd noticed me standing in the doorway and I could tell by the look on her face that she'd made the same wrong assumption about my bruised face that Christian's parents had.
It all happened so fast, I couldn't have stopped it if I'd tried. My father's eyes cut to my mother. He turned around and followed her gaze, his mesmerizing green eyes landing on me. I'd never seen such rage in my life.
I started to walk quickly toward him, my words coming out fast. "It's not what it looks like, Dad." My explanation fell on deaf ears as he turned his
back on me, his fist connecting with Christian's jaw.
The next sixty seconds happened in slow motion as I watched my father beating on Christian. Uncle Anthony tried to pull him off, but he was no match for my dad's heated fury. My mother and Aunt Christy were both screaming, but knew better than to go near the three men. An end table and lamp were knocked over. Not even the ceramic bear that shattered against the wood floor could break up the riot that was playing out before me.
In the chaos, I realized that Christian was not defending himself against my father. He hadn't thrown one punch to stave off the angry fists that were raining down on him. I knew what I had to do. I ran for the couch and reached for the gun hidden between the cushions. I fired two shots in the air.
The commotion immediately ceased as all eyes turned to me. But I only had eyes for one person. I watched as Christian swiped his arm across his face, the blood from his nose and cut lip leaving a streak across the fabric of his long-sleeved T-shirt.
Taking a deep breath, I lowered the gun and said, "We will either have a civil conversation or I'm going to have to ask you all to leave." I looked at each person. My father raised an eyebrow. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Christy seemed relieved. My mother was looking at me like she didn't know me. And my husband was trying not to grin. I knew he was comparing my suggestion for all of them to leave with the poke I'd given Sal at Chicky's.
"I didn't know you could handle a gun, Mimi," Christian said, while the others just stared.
I set the gun down on a side table. "I am my father's daughter."
My father kept quiet, but couldn't keep his angry glare at bay, as Christian and I launched into our explanation. We left a lot of the details out. As far as we were concerned the only important thing was that we wanted to be together.
When there was nothing left for us to say, my mother spoke up.
"Listen, there is obviously more to this story, and I think we could all benefit from digging in a little deeper. I'm sure we all have questions that need to be answered, but I'd rather not do it here." She turned and looked at Aunt Christy. "I think it would be a good idea for all of us to go back to our house. It's only a couple of hours away. We are all friends," she added with a smile. "It would be nice to spend some time together."
My father and Uncle Anthony started to object when Aunt Christy piped in, "I agree with Ginny. We're old friends, we're adults, and maybe we can hash all of this out. And it would be better to do it in a more familiar environment." She nodded at my father, and I knew she was alluding that he probably shouldn't have ventured so far from home.
I watched my father's face relax, but only a little.
"I'll put on some coffee while you two pack your stuff," Aunt Christy added, addressing me and Christian. "I need caffeine."
"I could use some too," my mother chimed in. She gave me a look that I knew meant she intended to have words with me. "Mimi, I'll drive back to our house with you in your car. Your father can drive his truck, and—"
"No!" Christian and I both shouted at the same time.
"I'll drive Mimi in her car," Christian said, his eyes landing on everyone in the room. "Dad can drive my truck."
"It's not your truck," Uncle Anthony spat. "I'd just as soon leave it here."
Ignoring his father's comments, he gave him a hard stare and said, "Mom can drive whatever car you drove." He then nodded at my parents. "And you two can drive whatever you came in."
"You're in no position to be spouting orders," my father practically growled.
"It's not an order," Christian conceded. "I'm not giving up even a second of the time I have left with Mimi. Besides, I know what all of you are thinking." He looked around the room. "Divide and conquer. It ain't gonna happen. Mimi stays with me."
I watched my father's fists as they clenched at his sides. My mother noticed it too.
"That's fine," my mother quickly added. "But when we get home, we will have alone time with our daughter, just like your parents had the benefit of talking to you without anyone around."
"Yes, ma'am," Christian replied with a curt nod.
"C'mon," I said to Christian. "Let’s pack."
He started to walk toward me when I heard my father say under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "Didn't know you raised such a wuss, Anthony. The boy didn't even know how to defend himself."
Christian stopped and turned to look at my father. "I was only being respectful. I didn't want to get off on the wrong foot by beating the shit out of my father-in-law."
Chapter 36
Pine Creek, North Carolina 2007
"Are you okay, Mimi?"
I didn't immediately answer, but sniffled and reached for another tissue. Just like Christian had insisted, we were driving my SUV to my parents’ house. I glanced in the side-view mirror, and could tell even from a distance that my father, who was driving behind us, was clenching the steering wheel with a death grip.
"Am I okay?" I replied with a scornful tone. "That depends on which part of the last hour you're asking about."
I saw Christian nod as he watched the road. I reached toward his right cheek and tried to dab at the blood with my tissue. It was slowly seeping below the bandage that was straining against the swelling from the beating my father had given him.
"It really needs stitches," I told him.
"I've had worse," he countered. He took his eyes off the road long enough to give me a regretful glance. "I'm sorry about your friend."
"I am too." I took a deep breath and watched the beautiful scenery that seemed to mock the darkness gripping my heart.
It wasn't too long after Christian's not-so-subtle announcement of our nuptials that I got around to asking my parents how they knew I wasn't at school. The heated intensity that our makeshift marriage had incited in all four parents had immediately been squelched when they told me about Josh's death. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my mother and father as they approached me, but Christian was the closest and he gently tugged me into a hug and steered me toward the bedroom. He closed the door behind us and sat on the bed, pulling me down onto his lap. He stroked my back and hair as I sobbed into his chest.
It had all been too much. Watching my father beat on the man I loved. Seeing the disapproval in our parents’ eyes after Christian explained his father-in-law comment. The relief in their expressions that followed when we described our wedding under the stars that wasn't legally binding. And finally, hearing about Josh's death. When the tears subsided and the hiccups commenced, I told him I was ready to pack.
After loading the cars and hitting the road, Christian and I rode in silence for a few miles.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Will you be able to go to the funeral?"
After a few more miles our phones hit signal range, and Bettina's texts started pinging, painfully confirming what my parents had told me. I slowly shook my head and glanced down at my phone. "No. His mother, who flew in from California as soon as he got sick, is leaving immediately for home and taking Josh with her."
I knew what he was going to ask next, and I already had an answer. "Lucas must not have heard. There's nothing here," I waved my phone in the air, "other than his mushy missing me crap. Listen. I want you to tell me more details about his cheating. I have no problem breaking up with him as soon as I get back to school. But if he gives me a hard time and I have to use it against him, I want proof to substantiate my claims."
"I'll show you the report from the P.I.," he answered evenly.
I thanked him, and returned my gaze to the passing scenery. His next comment startled me.
"I can go back to school with you before I head for Florida," Christian replied gruffly.
"Absolutely not!" I shouted a little louder than I intended. Before he could react, I immediately launched into an explanation that he couldn't fault.
"I have no doubt that if I bring you back to college with me, there will be a scene. We both know it's true. And with your record, and you weren’t supposed to le
ave Florida, and Lucas being a criminal justice major, it's a recipe for disaster."
He couldn't argue with my logic.
"I should be with you." He huffed.
"We have the rest of our lives to be together. And we will be. I can handle Lucas Paine."
He gave me a lopsided grin. "I know you can, baby. But if he does anything, I mean anything..."
"I know, Christian." I smiled reassuringly and patted his arm. "I know what you're capable of. My goal is to never let that happen."
Two hours later, the six of us stood on the main level of my home in Pine Creek, North Carolina.
The air was fraught with tension until Aunt Christy broke the ice by saying, "That was a very long, solitary drive up the mountain. I can see how this kind of isolation works for your situation."
My mother brushed her hand through the top of her hair and admitted, "It gets harder, though. I'm always concerned about tourists who retreat to the mountains to escape the big cities." She blew out a breath and added, "The more people who find our little town, the greater the chance of him being recognized." She nodded toward my father.
"Not gonna happen, Kit," my father confidently reassured her as he draped his massive arm around her shoulders.
She shrugged. "Is anybody hungry? It's almost time for lunch."
My father stepped away from the embrace and answered her with a serious glare. "Our daughter was abducted and you want to feed everybody?"
Before she could answer him, I burst out, "I could've gotten away from Christian, but I didn't because I wanted to stay." I slowly and deliberately made eye contact with all of them, eventually locking eyes with my father.
I didn't give him a chance to reply when it occurred to me that the house was eerily silent. "Where is everybody?" I looked at my mother and waited for her response.
