†
Julia Church grabs her son’s phone after hearing it chime and seeing it vibrate and dance along the coffee table in front of her. A text message from Aislin inviting him and his mom to breakfast at her house flashes onto his IPhone. Truth be told, Gabriel would much rather go to Mac’s than to Parker and Amy’s house, but Amy had already begun making breakfast for mother and son.
Julia lets Gabriel know of her offer and he asks her to type a response for him. He rakes his hands through his hair, a habit that he’d almost broken since his head had been wrapped like a damn mummy. Earlier, his mother had removed the gauze from around his head and washed his hair. It hadn’t felt anywhere near as good as it had when Mac had worked her fingernails over his scalp. He becomes aroused at the memory and what had followed the shampooing and shakes his head trying to rid himself of the thought. Get a grip!
Last night had been rough. Gabe had been furious. If only he could see. He would have went after Stone himself. Instead, he had to rely on the local sheriff’s department. When he had heard the asshole’s voice making a bid for Mac, his blood ran hot. He nearly knocked Ty over trying to get out of his chair. But, somehow, the pecker had left the building before he could have a little talk with him. Gabriel would love to catch him. He would love to teach him to stay away from what’s his. His? Aislin isn’t mine. Not that I wouldn’t love for her to be. But, no. I can’t do that to Declan. I have to keep my promise and protect her—even from me.
Gabriel’s mother had run into his room at five o’clock in the morning and shook him until he grasped reality once more. The nightmares had come back. He had been rid of them for over a year—until last night. Last night, was different. The nightmares had changed. Sifting through his memory, the familiar scene flashes through his mind. He is driving the Humvee through the arid land. The smell of smoke wafts through the air. Declan is seated next to him and is laughing about something. Gabriel looks back to the road for a moment. No traffic. All is clear. All of a sudden he hears a blast and looks over. Declan has burst into flames. His skin and hair is on fire. “Save her!” he yells.
“Save who?” Gabriel screams, as he tries to smother the flames engulfing his best friend’s body with his hands.
“Mac. Save her. You have to save her!” Declan screeches, frantically thrashing around in the passenger’s seat. Gabriel’s mother had woken him at this point. She said he’d been thrashing around and screaming. When he woke, his entire body was slick with sweat and his hands were trembling. His heartbeat was frantic and he couldn’t catch his breath.
In the nightmares before, Declan had only asked for help. An army shrink had told him that it was an expression of the guilt that Gabriel felt having survived the IED blast, when his best friend hadn’t. This was definitely different, and because of his feelings for Mac, was even more disturbing.
An unsettled feeling fills the pit of his stomach as his mom drives them toward Parker and Amy’s house. He makes up his mind. He is going with Aislin to purchase a gun and will make sure that Parker teaches her how to shoot it. She will be able to defend herself if Stone comes anywhere near her. He’ll see if Parker is free this afternoon, and the pair will head over to get Aislin after his mom leaves to go back home.
Julia hugs Amy and heads to the kitchen to help with breakfast. Parker leads Gabriel to the back patio, where he sinks into a plush seat at their patio table.
“Here’s a cup of coffee. Looks like you could use it.” Parker places his hand on the handle of a white mug. Staring up from the porcelain is a stick-figure man with a smiley face holding up his own cup of steaming coffee. The caption hovering above his head reads, “How about a nice cup of shut the hell up?”
“Long night,” Gabe responds.
“So, how was Mac? I guess you heard about her foster dad? We were at The Barn until four this morning waiting while the police finished their investigation. I caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. It was smashed and caked with dried blood. Whatever that Stone guy did to him, it was bad, Dude. I really think Mac should get an alarm system installed or something until this blows over.”
“Yeah. I plan on taking her to get a gun. We’ll have to wait a bit for the background check, but I’d feel better if she were armed and knew how to use it. Just in case. Since I can’t see, would you mind going with us to the gun shop and range this afternoon. She needs to learn how to shoot.”
Parker nods and then lends a voice to his reaction for his blind cousin. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Can’t hurt for her to learn to protect herself, anyway, since she lives alone in the sticks.”
“That’d be great. Thanks, Park.”
“No problem. So, why are you dicking around?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Mac. You like the girl, right?”
“Of course I like her, she’s my best─”
“Cut the shit. She’s more than just your best friend. You love her.”
“What? Where the hell is this coming from, Park?”
Parker blows his coffee dispersing the steam and shakes his head at Gabriel. “Man, you’re really gonna fuck this up. She loves you. The girl is all doe-eyed around you. It’s obvious you love her, too. If you’re too stupid to admit it and too chicken-shit to do something about it, you’re gonna lose her. For good. Hell, you almost did lose her to that Ty kid. Thank goodness he fucked up or you’d be SOL.”
Gabe sighs heavily. Parker has hit the nail on the head. “I know I almost lost her. I just…you know. Shit! Declan made me promise to protect her if he didn’t make it home and I don’t want to disrespect his memory by messing around with his sister.”
“First of all, why don’t you let her decide who she’s with. I think she would disagree with you. Second, how better to protect Mac than to love her and if you feel half of what I think you do for her, you wouldn’t just be messing around with her. If you did just ‘mess around’ with her, it might disrespect Declan’s memory. But, if you truly love the girl, man up and do something about it. Stop being such a pussy, Gabe.”
Gabe laughs nervously. “You are one eloquent, mother fucker, Parker.”
“Yeah, but I’m right, so quit dicking around and get Mac before someone else does.”
†
The afternoon is beautiful. Delightfully warm considering how far into the fall season it is. Today is the first day of November. Three days. Aislin can hardly believe it. November 4 is coming quickly-- the anniversary of her brother’s death. Last year, she had traveled to Arlington and visited Declan’s grave. She’d even made a rubbing of the headstone. She had sat alone in front of his grave from sunrise until after sunset. People had passed by her all throughout the day, but she had made no effort to acknowledge them. She just wanted to be with her brother. Now, with Stone running around on the loose and Peterson’s assault, she wasn’t allowed to leave the area. It’s just as well. Can’t bring him back.
Her mind travels to Rick Peterson. She wonders what happened to him. How had he provoked Stone? Did Stone know he had been her foster parent? Did he know about the abuse and attempted rape? Declan had known and she had told Ella and Ty. Other than that, the only person she’d told had been Gabriel and she had only told him recently. Could Jeremiah have been watching them and overheard? The thought spreads goose bumps over her skin. She rubs her arms, trying in vain to send them away.
Aislin remembers telling Ty about the attack. He had just asked her to marry him and the ensuing make-out session had gotten hot and heavy before she’d put the brakes on. Needless to say, he hadn’t been thrilled about having to stop. But, knowing that she wasn’t ready for the next step, she decided to confide in him. He had been absolutely livid. He had threatened to drive to Peterson’s and kick the shit out of him, but Aislin had talked him out of it, telling him that Peterson wasn’t worth it. And he wasn’t.
Not sure how she feels about his assault, Aislin rocks back and forth in the warm morning breeze. Her hair is
half dry now. Deputy Clark had said that the scene was gruesome and while she wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, she was sure that it wasn’t something anyone deserved, even a pervert like Rick Peterson. Tears fill her eyes. She already misses Ella. She wishes her relationship with Gabe wasn’t so strained and that he loved her the way she loves him. Brushing away tears, she wishes that Stone would be caught and she could relax because as long as he was walking free, there was no way she could let her guard down.
When his voice cut through the air last night, she was certain her heart had stopped for a moment, maybe to allow her brain to process what she was hearing. Her blood had run cold at the thought of him winning her company for the evening. But, as usual, Gabriel had come to her rescue, and he’d paid a hell of a lot for her company. She wonders if he would have bid on her at all if Stone hadn’t shown up. Probably not. He’s already made it more than clear that he doesn’t want me.
Aislin decides to get ready for the day. She makes her way up to her bedroom and changes into a pair of dark denim capris and a floral chiffon button-up shirt that is just feminine and flowy enough not to be annoying. Brushing powder on her face and mascara on her lashes, Aislin blows her hair the rest of the way dry and then swipes cherry chap-stick over her lips. She decides to clean her house, which is in dire need after the weekend guests she’d had over. She runs downstairs and grabs her IPhone, queues her playlist labeled “country girl” and plugs it into the dock. Little Big Town’s Pontoon fills the air, followed by the live version of Eric Church’s “Over When It’s Over.” Aislin sings along as she wipes the glitter that’s settled into the seams of her kitchen table, remnants of her and Ella’s mask-making adventure.
She moves on to the countertops and then grabs the furniture polish and a rag before heading into the guest bedroom. She strips the beds of their sheets and runs them to the laundry room, starting the load in the washer then returns to the room and begins to dust the furniture. “Done” by The Band Perry comes on. Aislin moves around the room, cleaning the dust from the wooden furniture, leaving the surfaces shiny and smelling faintly of cleaner and lemon. She looks over her work and nods in approval before turning to leave the room. That is the moment when she runs into a hard chest. Strong arms clamp around her, holding hers down at her sides. Her eyes meet icy blue ones and she screams. Aislin kicks and struggles, jerking violently to get away from him, but he laughs maniacally, as his elbow constricts around her neck. His perfect, beautiful smile is the last thing she sees before everything fades to black. How can something so perfect, be so wrong?
Chapter 13
The talk with Parker had been enlightening for Gabriel. Perhaps he should “man up” and make a play for her. He definitely cares for her, beyond just friendship. A friendship that had sustained him for months away, on foreign soil, in what he believed was the most parched land on the planet outside of the Sahara. It had comforted him when he cleared the bodies of the civilians killed by suicide bombers. The limp, dead weight of the mangled bodies of men, women and children. Those of the children weighed heaviest on his heart and mind. Why would anyone do this? How could anyone feel this was a way to work any problem out? His thoughts would drift to Aislin and her smile had been a constant beacon in the darkness. He just needed to survive. Survive and find his way home to her. Protect her--like he had promised Declan he would.
Thoughts of Declan return his nightmare. “Save her,” echoes through his mind. Gabriel picks up his cell phone and uses the voice command to call up Mac’s name and then orders the phone to make the call. He remembers Mac’s smiling face in his favorite’s folder. She had pressed her face up against a window and he had snapped the photo making it look as if she is physically trapped in his phone. His lips turn upward slightly at the memory as he waits while the phone rings, finally settling on her voicemail. He hangs up instead of leaving a message for her.
“Mom,” he says, feeling his way into Parker’s kitchen. “Text Mac for me, please.” He holds the phone out until he feels its weight lifted from his grasp.
GABE: Mac, call me when the others leave and I will come stay with you. You shouldn’t be alone until psycho is caught.
After twenty minutes, his iPhone doesn’t ping with a return message from Aislin. His ringtone doesn’t sound with her call. Gabe is worried. His hands begin to sweat, and he runs them nervously down the legs of his jeans. Parker and Amy settle in across from him. Gabe asks Amy to text Mac again. When there is no response, Amy dials her number. The call goes straight to voicemail. Gabe swallows thickly.
Amy’s hand lands on his. “I’m sure she’s fine. Her friends are there. She’s probably just busy.”
“Yeah,” Gabe agrees, running his thumb up and down the dimpled plastic cover on his phone.
†
Aislin becomes aware of her body, or the aching in it. Her mind tries to connect the dots. What had happened? Her neck is sore and even her cough sounds hoarse. She could recall Ella, Cameron and Ty’s departure and of cleaning her house. Everything from the furniture polish on is a blur. It sits in a haze just beyond where her mind can grasp it. Damn it!
Memories of Jeremiah surface. She frantically looks around. She’s on her couch. She’s laying on her couch in her living room. Had she been dreaming? No, her neck begs to differ. A cabinet slams closed in the kitchen just beyond her. She doesn’t look. She knows who she’ll find. Aislin closes her eyes, trying to conserve her strength and keep up the appearance of a rag doll, while trying to figure out how to get the hell out of this situation.
The couch cushion dips near her feet. Her breath quickens. “I know you’re awake. You’re breathing rapidly, Aislin.” She opens her eyes and meets his icy blue ones. He swirls clear liquid in one of her small glasses, his elbows are propped up on his knees.
“Why are you here, Jeremiah?” She sits up and then scoots her body to the far end of the couch, as far away as she dares to go right now. He glares at her and then bursts into a fit of laughter. It’s as though she just said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Aislin remains still, waiting for him to get control of himself. She notices that his eyes are glassy.
He finally calms down and simply says, “I came to see my girlfriend.” He takes a gulp from the glass. His eyes never leave hers. He doesn’t blink. Is he even human? What kind of human can go that long without blinking? Shit! I read too many paranormal romances!
“Well, you have the wrong house. I’m not your girlfriend.” Aislin holds his stare and then pushes herself up from the couch. Jeremiah stays seated for a moment, but then jumps up and staggers toward her. He is very drunk. That much is now obvious to her. He jerks her arm and pulls her toward him. She tries to get away, but he clamps his other arm around her. “Let. Me...GO, Jeremiah! You need to go home and sleep it off.”
His maniacal laughter fills the tiny space between them as it rumbles out of his chest. “You see, Aislin. That’s the fucking kicker. I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to forget about you, but I can’t.” He smacks his forehead with the heel of his palm and Aislin takes advantage of his loosened grip. She twists away and takes off running toward the guest bedroom. Where there is a lock on the door. Where there is a phone she can use to call for help. She runs past the small kitchen bar and stools and down the hallway. Her right hand grasps the wooden facing of the guest room and she uses it to try to propel herself forward and into it. It isn’t to be, though.
Jeremiah catches up with her. She doesn’t realize it, though, until she begins to feel his large hand in her hair, and her hair being pulled out of her scalp as she is jerked backward. She falls to the floor, clawing, trying to find something to help her move forward. She is just outside the doorway, but can’t get in. Hot tears burn out of her eyes, both from the pain he is inflicting and from desperation. I can almost reach the edge of the dresser. Jeremiah jerks her to her feet via her hair and clamps his long arm around her stomach. She kicks backward, trying to get free. She just needs him to stumble or loosen his
grip. She’s almost there. Almost safe.
Her heel stomps his foot. “You fucking bitch!” he screams. He slams her head, nose first, into the drywall across from the open guest bedroom door. She hears something internal crunch. Her brain doesn’t register what it is at first. A mixture of dark spots and white spots float in her vision until it clears. Her forehead and nose bring her back to reality. Pain shoots through her face and she cries out. Blood trickles steadily into her mouth when she screams, filling it up before overflowing and dropping out again. Blood is soaking the front of her chest, seeping into her shirt and bra beneath. Crimson splashes onto the wooden planks below her. This is really happening. This is really happening. There’s no one to help me. I’m all alone!
He throws her to the floor. “I was so patient with you, Aislin. So fucking patient. But now, I see that you need a firm fucking hand. I’m tired of waiting. Tired of watching you with him.” Jeremiah’s face is right in hers. She can smell the liquor on his breath even over the metallic tang of her own blood. “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. You shouldn’t lead someone on. Shouldn’t make them fall in love with you. You bitch. You kissed me, made me want you and then wouldn’t let me have you. I will fucking HAVE you!” Her cheek explodes. She can’t see through her left eye. It is flooding with red.
Aislin is losing consciousness. She can feel him hit her. Feel his large fist connect with her ribs. Feel him rip her shirt off. Feel him tear her jeans off. Feel him rip her bra open and maneuver it off of her. She can feel him positioning himself over top of her. He leans in close to her ear. “You are mine.” Those are the last words she hears.
Devil Creek Page 15
