Tethered Souls: A Nine Minutes Spin-Off Novel

by Beth Flynn

  I looked at him, my jaw slack. I had no words. Minutes later I heard the familiar clinking of her keys and turned my head to see her making her way back over to us.

  Christian’s lips found my right temple as I watched her delicately open a black velvet box. “I love you, Dreamy Mimi,” he whispered, his breath wafting over my ear. It was then that I felt the air leave my lungs as I gazed at the most vivid blue stone I’d ever seen. It was similar to the one that had first caught my eye, slightly larger, but not too big for my finger. But that wasn’t what caused me to lose my breath. The stone was surrounded in diamonds that sparkled like twinkling stars against a pitch-black sky.

  “Try it on,” Christian prodded.

  I held out my left hand, and tried not to shake. It slid on easily.

  “It’s a tad loose, but we can have it properly sized and you can come back for it later today,” the woman explained.

  “Do you like this one, Mimi? If you prefer diamonds, you can try on some of those. I think they might even have some blue ones."

  “We do,” the sales clerk chimed in.

  “N-no,” I stammered. “This ring is perfect.”

  I stifled a gasp when she told him the balance due on his deposit. Without blinking an eye, Christian reached into his back pocket and took out a wad of cash. He fanned the amount due on the counter and told the woman, “It’s all here.”

  She picked up the money and smiled. “I’ll be right back to get your proper ring size.”

  I watched the slight sway of her hips as she approached a man who sat behind a high counter in the back. He stood when she passed him the cash.

  “You snuck out this morning when I was asleep.” I glanced down at my finger. "And climbed back in bed with me when I didn’t even know you'd left. I really do sleep like the dead, don’t I?"

  His answer was a smile.

  "How did you know what ring to have them hold?” I took a deep breath and added, “And how did you know I would love the blue stone?”

  He reached for and held my face in both hands, touching his forehead to mine.

  “I told you before, Mimi. We’re tethered souls, and you’re back where you belong. Where you’ve always belonged.”

  Chapter 43

  Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007

  We spent a couple of hours driving around neighborhoods to get a feel for where we might want to set up house when I asked Christian for a favor. Twenty minutes later, we were parked across the street from the home where I was raised. My eyes started to mist over when I announced, "I'm glad they’re keeping it looking nice, but I don't like the color." I sniffled. "My dad hated brown."

  Christian reached across the truck console and grabbed my hand. "I'm having a hard time keeping up with which dad you're referring to."

  I could understand his confusion. Grizz was my biological father. Sometimes I referred to him as my father, other times as Dad, and always in private as Grizz. Tommy Dillion was the man who'd raised me, and was technically my stepfather. But I'd only ever called him Dad.

  "I'm talking about Tommy," I said softly. "He always thought brown was boring. He was a talented architect, and hated when his clients had their homes or businesses painted brown. He said the color took away from the design. Drabbed it down is what he used to say."

  Christian didn't respond, but gave my hand a gentle squeeze to acknowledge he was listening. I swiped at my eyes. "I dream about him a lot. I even fantasize that he's still alive somewhere."

  "I was at his funeral all those years ago, Mimi. And so were you."

  "And my mom watched Grizz die on the lethal injection table." My phone pinged and I sat up straighter, grateful for the intrusion. "It’s the jewelry store."

  Christian shifted the truck into drive and we left the neighborhood I'd instantly and secretly vowed to never visit again.

  I never considered myself materialistic. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I couldn't stop looking at my finger. I couldn't fathom what I loved more—the color reminded me of Christian's eyes, and the ring he'd given me on a playground in 1990—or that out of all the rings in the jewelry store, I'd zeroed in on the closest match to the one he'd picked out just hours earlier.

  We arrived at the Bears’ home and I was more than relieved to discover that Autumn had already dropped Abby off. I was warmly greeted by Aunt Christy and Uncle Anthony, and ushered into their sizeable but comfortable great room, only to learn that Abby was napping. Minutes later, Christian and I stood over her bed, and watched her tiny chest rise and fall as she slept peacefully.

  "She's even more beautiful in person, Christian," I whispered. He'd shown me pictures on his phone after we'd retrieved it from his friend in Jacksonville, but they didn't do justice to the two-and-half-year-old that slept serenely in her toddler princess bed. She had jet-black hair, just like Christian's. Except it wasn't straight like his. Thick and shiny black ringlets framed her heart-shaped face. She had light skin, and her pink lips were slightly moving as if she was talking in her sleep. Her eyes were closed but I knew they were light brown.

  "I think I hear Slade and Daisy," Christian said in a low voice as he clutched my elbow and we walked out of Abby's room. His mother had told us that Slade would be coming for dinner, and she'd asked him to pick up Daisy from her dance class on the way. He'd made an excuse about not having time to stop in, but Aunt Christy was persistent and refused to take no for an answer, only telling him they would be celebrating something important and wanted him to be included.

  "I'll be a minute," I told Christian as I made my way to the bathroom. I hadn't seen Slade in years. The memory of the last time we'd been in the same room, the one he was apparently standing in now, had jumped to the forefront of my consciousness. I felt like I needed to freshen up before I faced him. I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw barely perceptible smudges beneath my eyes from my mascara starting to smear. I took a tissue and wiped below each one, and then pinched my cheeks for color. I'd left my purse in the great room so I used my fingers to swipe through and fluff my hair. Satisfied there was nothing else I could do to make myself look more presentable, I headed for the room where the family was gathered.

  I could hear twelve-year-old Daisy asking, "What's the surprise, Daddy?"

  "It must be that Christian made it back from South Carolina unscathed." I recognized Slade's voice. His tone was sarcastic. "Unless we're not counting what happened to his face."

  "Don't be rude," Aunt Christy chided. "This couldn't have turned out better if we'd planned it."

  "From what you told me before you took off for South Carolina, he did plan it." Again the bite of Slade's words held bitterness.

  I entered the room at the same exact time Slade sighed loudly. "I don't have time for this. I've got plans tonight. What's the big surprise?" he asked.

  All eyes turned to me as I gave first Slade, then Daisy a wide smile, and sidled up to Christian.

  Daisy looked like she might've remembered me, but I couldn't be certain.

  "You remember Mimi, don't you, honey?" Aunt Christy asked.

  I tore my eyes away from Daisy's expectant face and was met with Slade’s cold stare. Confused, I clutched Christian's arm and returned my focus back to the twelve-year-old who was giving me a toothy grin while admitting, "I kind of remember her."

  Sensing the tension, Aunt Christy quickly chimed in, "Daisy, do me a quick favor and check on Abby. I don't think I turned on the baby monitor and I'm pretty sure I didn't put a blanket on her. Can you do those things without waking her up?" She rolled her eyes and said to no one in particular, "Autumn didn't give her a nap. I'll probably have a hard time getting her to sleep tonight."

  Daisy nodded, smiling at me as she left the room. I'd barely heard Uncle Anthony speak five words in the past few days, but it was obvious by the tone in his voice that he was not happy with his oldest.

  "What's your problem, Slade?" Anthony addressed Slade’s despondency.

  "Why is she here?" He nodded in my directi
on.

  All eyes turned my way, and in an awkward attempt to sum up the past several days, I did the only thing I could think of. I held up my left hand and displayed my ring while stammering, "We're to...to...together now." I cleared my throat, and looked at Christian, then Slade.

  What happened next was so unexpected I couldn't say it even rivaled my father's reaction to seeing my bruised face at the rental house. I think it was an obvious assumption that Christian was going to receive the wrath of Grizz's anger. But this. This was something nobody could've predicted.

  A wail resembling a war cry shattered the silence as Slade reached for the nearest object which looked like a tiara. It had been resting on a shelf, and I would later learn that it was made of iron and had been handcrafted by Uncle Anthony in his workshop over twenty-five years earlier. Slade aimed it directly at my husband's head. Christian shifted to the left as it passed by, narrowly missing him, striking a painting on the wall behind us. The piece of art fell to the floor with a loud thud, but it was nothing compared to the sound made by the tiara hitting and cracking the tile floor.

  Aunt Christy screamed as Slade charged Christian, trying to ram his head into Christian's stomach. But Slade's anger and speed were no match for Christian's brawn and street sense. Towering over his older brother, Christian shoved him away with a warning.

  "Don't make me kick your ass, bro."

  Slade answered by taking a swing that Christian easily deflected with his left arm, while simultaneously using his right fist to connect with Slade's cheek.

  Uncle Anthony inserted himself between his sons, trying to keep them apart. While taking in huge gulps of air, Slade's voice was almost unrecognizable when he barked, "I've done it the right way. All of it. Graduated high school with my associates degree. Went to college, became a lawyer. I've always respected our family, and the law. And he"—he pointed at Christian—"barely finishes high school, mutilates a guy, gets a girl pregnant, goes to prison, violates his parole, and brings home an innocent woman from his childhood he doesn’t deserve?"

  I was too stunned to think straight. I looked around the room and saw the same expression on his parents’ faces. It was like they were seeing their eldest son for the first time.

  "This is what we're celebrating? Christian committed another crime and this time gets rewarded for it? This family is so screwed up!" Slade spat, while swiping the blood from beneath his nose.

  Heavy silence hung in the air as we all fumbled for coherent words that didn’t come. I glanced at my husband who stood with his hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened noticeably. I didn't think it could get worse, but I was wrong.

  After checking on Abby, Daisy had run to her bedroom to get pictures of her dance recitals to show me. While she was digging out her photo album, the skirmish had woken up little Abby who toddled out to the great room. She made a soft squeak and I turned to see her standing at the hallway entrance. She was clutching a doll to her chest, and her brown eyes landed on me, Christian, and Slade. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Christy were standing off to the side, blocked by the dining room wall and hidden from Abby’s view. Abby walked toward Christian, and I almost cried in relief. But it was short-lived. Realizing too late that Christian wasn't her grandfather, she stopped abruptly and let out a blood-curdling scream. Christian bent low and held out a hand to her, but she dropped her doll and ran past him, launching herself at Slade's legs. Tilting her face upward, she reached her tiny hands into the air and said to her uncle, "Uppy. Uppy, Sway."

  Slade bent down and picked her up while his eyes shot daggers at Christian.

  My heart ached for Christian. He grabbed my hand and, pulling me toward the front door, said, "C'mon, baby. Let’s get out of here."

  Chapter 44

  Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007

  The silence was heavy as we got in Christian’s truck and headed north. I wanted to comfort him, but knew there was nothing I could say that would make him feel better. Still, I had to break the tension if only to let him know I cared.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed to get out, my voice raspy.

  “Don’t be,” he answered evenly without looking over at me. “I’m not.”

  “What do you mean you’re not? Aren’t you upset at Slade’s outburst?”

  “Nope.”

  I looked at his profile and didn’t recognize any sign of him lying. No tightening of his jaw, no clenching of the steering wheel.

  “What about when Abby ran to him instead of you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “I expected it,” came his sound reply. He let out a long breath. “And I wasn’t surprised at Slade’s reaction either. Maybe taken off guard that he did it in front of you. But no, not surprised.”

  “Why not?” I looked over and waited for his answer.

  He shot me a glance. “Because everything he said was true.” Looking back out over the steering wheel, he confessed, “I love my brother and I know he loves me, but we’re total opposites. Slade is a methodical planner. I’m sure he’s mapped out his entire life down to where he’ll vacation every summer with his future wife and kids, and where he’ll spend his retirement. He’s never understood my compulsiveness. My…uh…not quite sure how to describe it.”

  “You don’t have to,” I told him. “I get what you’re trying to say. He sees things working out for you when you handle something differently than he would have.”

  “Exactly,” Christian replied. “And he resents it. He would’ve slowly insinuated himself into your life. He would’ve wined and dined you, then proposed on bended knee with a traditional diamond ring.”

  He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “And there is nothing wrong with that. I admire my brother, and I hope he finds a good woman. But just because he likes to live a predictable and by-the-book life, doesn’t mean he should resent me because I don’t. And it’s not like I haven’t accepted the consequences for my actions.”

  I knew he was alluding to not being there for his daughter, and the time he’d spent in prison away from her.

  “I guess that’s part of the problem,” I added. “He thinks there should’ve been consequences for violating your parole and abducting me.”

  “Yep. And again, he’s right, and I’m not mad that he was upset,” Christian quickly added. “However, I am mad that he showed his ass in front of you. And he would have in front of Daisy, too, if Mom hadn’t sent her off.”

  I nodded in agreement. Before I realized it we’d arrived at our destination. I couldn’t tell where we were because we’d apparently driven down a back alley and were now parked behind a business. What kind of business, I didn’t know.

  “Where are we?” I asked while scanning around me. I spied two dumpsters to our left, and an unusually large pile of tires to our right.

  Christian opened the console between us and started rummaging through it. “Axel’s garage.”

  “Where you work?” I asked as he muttered under his breath while digging for something.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are we doing here?” I asked as I took another look at our surroundings. It was almost spooky. There was one light over the only door to the building, and it made clicking sounds as it flickered on and off.

  “Found it.” He was holding up a tool. “We’re breaking in,” he told me after opening his door and jumping out. He looked over at me. “You coming?”

  I flung open my door and jumped out of the truck. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  * * *

  “Didn’t know I married a rebel,” Christian teased as he expertly picked not one, but three locks that opened the back door to the garage.

  I stood with my hands on my hips and sardonically asked, “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t the first time you’ve broken in here?”

  “Because it isn’t.” He chuckled, opening the door and flipping on a light before waving me in.

  “What are we stealing?” I followed behind him, and looked around for hidden cameras.

&nb
sp; He stopped and turned around. “Mimi, do you really think I’d bring you with me to commit a crime?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and looked away, embarrassed. I wouldn’t let myself think about how quickly and without reservation I’d agreed to accompany him to what I thought was a real break-in. “What are we here for?”

  Ten minutes later, I had my arms wrapped around Christian as we sped through the night on his Harley. Apparently, he kept it at Axel’s garage, and since he didn’t have his own key, he had to break in to get his bike.

  We ended up at what appeared to be a trashy biker bar in a not-so-nice part of town. It didn’t turn out to be as bad as I thought. The Alibi was actually a decent place inside, and I was grateful the waitresses were wearing shirts. I'd watched Christian shirk off Tina at Chicky's, but I had no clue how he'd react if a woman shoved her breasts in his face. I knew it was acceptable in the biker world, but by now, Christian should know it wasn't acceptable to me. He'd assured me infidelity would never be an issue. Once again I wrestled with how easily I’d assimilated into what I thought was going to be an illegal break-in, followed by my nonchalant acceptance of what at first appeared to be a seedy juke joint, but ended up being a biker hangout.

  This wasn’t me.

  Or was it?

  When we’d first arrived I was getting admiring glances from some of the men, and I immediately noticed a change in Christian’s demeanor. They noticed it too. It was as if a crackle of electricity swept through the small pub, and all eyes respectfully turned the other way. Without even uttering a syllable, Christian Bear established a boundary that no one dared cross.

  I never understood my father’s overbearing and aggressive protectiveness of my mother. I’d always thought it was attributed to one of two reasons. The first and most obvious was that Grizz was naturally intimidating and pushy. The second, I surmised, was because he lived in fear of losing my mom again, and would do everything in his power to prevent that from happening.