Two Evils

by Christina Moore

  She was reaching up to knock when suddenly the door flew open and she was dragged through it into a tight bear hug. Though she dropped her bag immediately and returned the embrace with just as much emotion, it took her a moment to figure out which brother she was hugging—it was Teddy, the only brother younger than she was. Of course, given that despite his youth he was just as tall and built as the other three, and the fact that he’d moved too fast for her to catch a glimpse of his face, it was no wonder she needed a moment for recognition to sink in.

  It was the hair that did it. Teddy had always worn his hair a little too long at the neck, and it tickled her nose as she held him close.

  “All right now, Theodore, let your sister go so she can breathe,” their father said.

  Billie stepped back as Teddy slowly released her and looked into his face. His eyes were brimming with emotion, deep concern more than anything else. She smiled tentatively and nodded her head, hoping he would be reassured that she was all right. Although he had also acted the role of take-no-shit teacher in their youth, she knew he looked up to her. Because they were the youngest of the Ryan clan, theirs had been a bond unlike the one either of them shared with Tommy, Andy, or Kevin. Teddy had been her best friend, and she felt incredibly guilty that she had shut him out.

  “I would say come in, sweetheart, but your brother’s already invited you,” Thomas Ryan said then, a smile on his face, but concern for her evident in his eyes as well. “Why don’t you join us for a drink?”

  A smile sprang to Teddy’s face. “We’re even prepared—got you a bottle of watermelon margarita chilled and waiting,” he said.

  “How could you have possibly known I would be here?” she asked as Teddy picked up her bag in one hand and grabbed her hand in the other, dragging her toward the living room behind their father.

  In the living room, taking up most of the room on the couch, were her brothers Kevin and Andrew. Her brows rose questioningly at the sight of Andy, who lived seven hours away in Boston. He stood as she entered the room, taking his turn wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly for a moment, and then standing back to gaze upon her with the same expression of concern that Teddy and their father had used. Only he studied her with more scrutiny—probably the lawyer in him, she mused.

  She decided to head them off at the pass. “Before you all bombard me with questions, please be assured that I am okay. Not fine. Probably not even a hundred percent yet,” she admitted, knowing they’d accept nothing less than the truth. “But I am getting there, I promise you.”

  Billie glanced at each man in turn, hoping they could see that truth in her eyes. They exchanged looks of silent communication and each nodded. “Now that’s settled, let’s get drunk together!” Kevin exclaimed cheerfully. He jumped up and headed toward the kitchen, presumably to grab the margarita Teddy had promised her they had for her. Her father returned to his armchair and picked up a half-empty bottle of Guinness while Teddy led her over to the couch and gently pushed her down on her ass.

  “Thanks, Ted, but I can sit down on my own,” she quipped lightly.

  “Just making sure you don’t go rabbiting on us again,” Teddy said with a wink as he sat in Kevin’s place on one end of the couch and Andy returned to his seat on the other—she was now stuck between them.

  “Little chance of that when I’m the meat in a Ryan sandwich,” she said, though she couldn’t help grinning as she did so. Billie was glad she’d chosen to come here instead of going to a hotel—being with her family again was already changing her emotional climate. Straightforward but light-hearted banter was a specialty of the normally bawdy Ryan boys when one of the family was in emotional straits; it had always served her well to seek one of them out when she needed a kick in her mental posterior, and she suddenly wondered why she had ever run away from it.

  “To answer your question, Billie Jo,” Andy said after taking a swig of his Budweiser, “We suspected you might be coming home soon after one of your former spook buddies called every single one of us looking for you.”

  She scoffed. “If you’re referring to Agent Courtney, he is not one of my former spook buddies. I never even met the man before yesterday. But speaking of, just because he called to ask if any of you had seen me doesn’t mean I’d be coming back anytime soon.”

  “Let’s just say we hoped,” Thomas said. “It’s been quite a while since we heard from you, Wilhelmina.”

  Billie swallowed and both Teddy and Andy fidgeted in their seats. Her dad only called her Wilhelmina—a name he knew she wasn’t overly fond of—when he was angry with her or worried about her. The expression he now faced her with said he was both. Kevin walked back into the room and paused, then grinned foolishly.

  “Oh shit. Dad pulled out the big W, didn’t he?”

  “Shut up, Kevin, and give me my drink,” Billie muttered, holding her hand out for the clear glass beer stein with the reddish-pink liquid in it. He was still smiling like an idiot as he handed it to her and then took a seat in the chair that had been brought into the room from the dining table.

  “Hey, just be glad he didn’t call you by your full name,” Kevin said, tipping his own bottle of Guinness toward her. “You know he’s about to read you the riot act when he does that.”

  Billie scowled at her brother, restraining the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “Thank you for that reminder of our childhood years, Kevin Alexander Ryan.”

  As the middle child of five, Kevin had taken it on himself to be the family jester, and so he brushed off her use of his given name with a shrug and a shit-eating grin. “You’re welcome, Wilhelmina Josephine Ryan.”

  Thomas, although he tried to maintain a stern visage, gave into the natural humor produced by the antics of his children and shook his head, smiling. Billie relented and smiled herself, then took a welcome sip of her drink. Ah, bliss, she thought, and took another drink before turning to Andy.

  “You drove all the way from Boston on the off chance that I might be coming home? Can the DA’s office spare you for however long you’re going to be here?” she asked him.

  Andy shrugged. “My cases are such that they can spare me a day or two. And that Courtney fellow called Dad this afternoon to tell him he was bringing you back. I thought you might appreciate having four of the five men in your family here to greet you when you arrived, so I made the drive as soon as Dad called me.”

  Billie was surprised John had thought to call her father and let him know she was heading back to the States. She wasn’t sure what to think about the generosity of the gesture. Deciding not to concern herself with it now, she nodded—and then frowned. “He didn’t even know for sure I’d agree until this morning. That would mean you got here not long before me.”

  Andy nodded. “Got in about an hour ago. And I’m glad I made the trip—it’s good to see you, sis.”

  She offered him a smile. “It’s good to see you too, Andy. And since all of you got together hoping to see me—which I really do appreciate, by the way, it’s really very sweet of you all—why isn’t Tommy here?”

  Tommy was Thomas Ryan Jr. He was the oldest of the siblings, followed by Andy, then Kevin, herself, and Teddy. Like Billie, Tom had joined the military, though in his case he had chosen the Navy and was now the leader of an elite SEAL team. Last she knew his unit was undergoing training maneuvers in Florida.

  “Tommy got deployed again,” Teddy answered her. “’Bout six months ago, back to Iraq.”

  Billie’s face fell. She would have known that had she trusted her family to help her get past losing Travis. But she’d been too stubborn to accept their love and support, insisting she needed to be alone, away from their stifling concern for her well-being.

  “He’s safe, though—well, as safe as a guy can be in a war zone,” Teddy added. “I got a call from him something like a week ago.”

  “So tell us something, Billie Jo,” Andy began. “Where’ve you been that gave you such a lovely tan?”

  She took ano
ther drink of her margarita before replying. “St. Thomas. I’ve been working with a friend at a bar he bought down there.”

  “Those months on the beach have been kind to you, Billie,” her father said. “You look good. A little thinner, perhaps, but you look good.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Like I said, I’m getting better.” She sighed and looked down at the drink in her hands. “And I’m sorry for making you all worry. I know I should have at least told you where I was going. Of all people, you wouldn’t think I’d be the type to break down so completely. But after Travis died, I just…”

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she fought to control them. Teddy put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. “Doesn’t matter, sis, you’re home now. That’s the important thing.”

  Billie cast Teddy a grateful smile, and for the next hour or so her brothers and her father caught her up on what they had been up to in her absence. Teddy was on his third or fourth girlfriend of the year (“Fire bunnies are so fun to play with!”), Kevin had recently been promoted at the construction firm he worked for to project manager, and Andy had gotten engaged two months prior to a woman he’d met shortly after her departure. He joked that the one good thing to come out of her being gone for a year was that she hadn’t been around to scare Michelle away.

  “I’m home now, remember? I can still do that if you’re getting cold feet,” she returned.

  “Don’t you dare!” her brother said with a laugh. “Shelly’s a great girl, sis. I think you’ll like her, once you get to know her.”

  “She’d better be, if she expects to marry into this crazy family,” Billie had replied.

  Thomas informed her that he had also met someone. This was a surprise to not only Billie, but her brothers as well. He had dated only sporadically since their mother Nadine had died from a rare blood disorder ten years before, but the look on his face and the sudden nervousness evident in his posture told them that this new woman was someone he was developing deep feelings for. It was still very new, he told them, but he genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company a great deal.

  Billie was very pleased for him and Andy, though she could not help the pain that seized her chest, making it difficult to breathe. They were so very happy with the women in their lives, and it reminded her fondly, yet painfully, of how happy she had been with Travis just a year ago. Sometimes she wondered if there would ever be a time she could listen to others talk of being in love and not feel like an elephant had taken up residence on her chest.

  Teddy—God bless him, her very best friend—seemed to sense her distress and deftly changed the subject. Soon after, her brothers all rose to depart. Andy had invited himself to stay with Kevin across town instead of with their father as she was going to do. Billie knew that it was because he, too, could tell she was beginning to feel overwhelmed, and was being kind enough to give her some space. She smiled gratefully up at him before hugging him goodbye. She then embraced Teddy and Kevin and the three of them went out the door.

  As she was closing the door behind them, she heard her father picking up beer bottles in the living room. Billie went in to help, though her father told her it wasn’t necessary.

  “No, Dad, let me. In fact, why don’t you go on to bed? It’s almost midnight, and surely you have to work tomorrow. I’ll take care of this,” she said.

  “Billie, you just came home. I’m not going to make you clean house your first night back,” her father countered, even while clearly doing his best to contain a yawn.

  She grinned knowingly. “Dad, it’s okay. I don’t mind earning my room and board. Besides, I got used to it tending bar and waiting tables down in St. Thomas.”

  Thomas put a hand on her shoulder. “Now you know that no matter where you live, this house is always home,” he told her. “You are always welcome here, no matter what.”

  Billie nodded past the lump in her throat. It was the real reason why she had chosen to come here instead of going to a hotel—because this was home.

  Her father then relented and, after giving her yet another tight hug, headed for the stairs. Billie watched him go, then turned and began the task of picking up the dozen or so beer bottles her father and brothers had gone through—from the number of empties sitting on the coffee table and side tables, they’d started before she’d even arrived. As she carried the first batch to the kitchen to throw them away, it occurred to her for the first time that, subconsciously, at least, she might have chosen St. Thomas of all the places in the world she could go because the island and her father shared the same name, making it a connection to home. The thought made her smile.

  After dumping the bottles in the trash can, she returned to the living room for more. As she was picking up the last one, a noise from the back of the house caught her attention. It was a faint, almost imperceptible click, something the average person might not have heard amidst the clinking of the glass. But she’d been trained to pick up those kinds of subtle sounds, and so she casually jiggled the bottles a little as she made her way toward her duffel bag, where her guns were. Kneeling slowly, she reached one-handed for the zipper, pulling it just enough to get her hand inside the bag. There were three guns in there—the Sig and two Glocks—but she only needed one.

  Because it was the only one loose, the Glocks being contained in the double holster, Billie’s hand found the Sig right on top of her clothes, and she released it from its holster. As her fingers closed around the grip, she flicked the safety off with her thumb, then turned and carefully set the bunch of bottles down on the couch where Teddy’s ass had been planted not half an hour ago. Then she stood, holding the gun at low ready as she cautiously made her way toward the kitchen.

  On the way, she heard another noise, slightly louder than the first. It sounded as if someone was trying to get in the house through the back door, and she’d be damned if she’d allow anyone to threaten her sanctuary when she’d just returned to it. Her arms immediately swung up to hold her weapon at the ready, straight out in front of her and aimed to fire. She moved stealthily, her footfalls silent on the soft Berber carpeting.

  When she moved at last from carpet to tile and stepped through the archway into the kitchen, what she found there was the last thing—or rather, the last person—she would have expected.

  “Gabe? Is that you?” she queried softly, the Sig dropping slightly.

  The man standing in her father’s kitchen started, his eyes widening reflexively before he relaxed, releasing a breath at the sight of her. “Thank fuck it really is you,” he said, taking a step closer. “I had to come in to be sure.”

  Knowing that he’d agreed to take experimental drugs the effects of which she could so far only speculate about, she thought of what John had told her about Eddie and raised the gun up again.

  “Stand down, Marine,” she said firmly, her arms steady and her eyes never leaving his face.

  Gabriel Lincoln stopped. “Billie, come on—it’s me. It’s Gabe,” he said, gesturing to himself as he spoke.

  “You sure about that?” she retorted. “From what I heard, some guys I know agreed to take part in a so-called top secret training program that included taking experimental drugs. If remember correctly, the Gabe I served with swore he’d never do anything that stupid.”

  Gabe took a breath. “Yeah, it was stupid. A mistake I’ll regret for the rest of my life. Look, can I come in?”

  “Would seem you bypassed being invited already by breaking in,” Billie pointed out.

  He turned and pointed at the back door. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll go back outside and knock. But at this point that would be pretty ridiculous, don’t you think?”

  “You packing?”

  “You know there’s only one way a Marine gives up his gun,” he reminded her.

  She assessed his condition. He appeared to be lucid, his eyes bright but not too wide. His movements, though cautious, weren’t deliberate or jerky. Gabe seemed to be in full command of his faculties, but she couldn’t be cer
tain her eyes weren’t deceiving her, and thus could not let her guard down.

  “You have a point,” she conceded. “However, given your recent use of stupid pills, the fact that you’re officially UA, and the fact that you just broke into my father’s house, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that you release that weapon to me until such time as I can be assured you will not use it against me or him.”

  “Given that you would put me down before I could even draw it, is that really even necessary?” Gabe countered.

  Billie heard her father coming down from upstairs. She did not want him to walk in on this. “Gabe, if you didn’t want to be treated like a criminal, you shouldn’t have committed B&E. My father is home—”

  “Billie, who are you talking to?” Thomas asked as he was walking through the living room.

  “Shit,” Billie muttered, her eyes never wavering from Gabe as she threw over her shoulder, “Dad, stop where you are. Do not come into the kitchen.”

  Much to her relief, she heard him pause, her commanding tone enough to make him listen.

  “I want to talk to you, Gabe,” she said to her former team mate. “I want to understand what the fuck is going on. But I need you to understand that until I can be certain your presence is not a threat to my father, I cannot let you come any further into his home with a weapon on your person. If you take another step without surrendering it, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

  Gabe stared for a long moment, then without a word reached slowly around to his back. She loved this man like one of her brothers, and she had once trusted him with her life, but that didn’t mean her already sky-high adrenaline level didn’t get an extra dose in preparation for possible combat. It was no small relief that the M1911A1 Gabe drew out was turned around and held out to her grip first. Her Sig trained on him still, Billie reached forward to take it with her right hand, slipping it into the waistband of her jeans.