by L. A. Fiore
“Can I ask why you’re asking?”
Arissa thought about it for about two seconds before she told her the truth. “I’m dating her son and her past haunts her. I’m hoping to put her at ease.”
Another long pause before Sasha shared. “I’m not surprised to hear that. It wasn’t an easy job Catherine took on. Addicts rarely get clean and when they’re pregnant, it makes it even harder. And when you’ve chosen to help people like that, you can only take so much of the brutality of life on the streets before it gets to you. That’s what happened to poor Catherine.”
Her voice shook a bit when she said, “I don’t understand.”
“Catherine was working with the pregnancy patients, the ones that were recovering addicts. Though some didn’t recover. It was hard on Catherine. I didn’t understand why she put herself in that position, but she loved the patients. There was one patient in particular that Catherine bonded with. She was a young woman, a heroin addict who was working to get herself clean. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes you get that one patient who really does pull their act together for their baby. This woman was like that. Never saw someone work harder to get herself clean and sober. That’s what makes it so tragic.”
Arissa spoke only one word. “What?”
“She died. Overdose.” Sasha said softly. Silence settled before she offered, “She had worked so hard, but after the baby came it must have been too much for her. They found her in an alley.”
“Oh my God.” Arissa felt sick, and realized that sometimes it was best to leave the fucking string alone. “When was this?” Arissa asked.
“Nineteen eighty-four.”
A sickening sensation filled her. “What happened to the baby?”
“Don’t know. Lost in the system maybe. You’d be surprised how many babies are born to addicts and the homeless. It’s hard to keep track of them all but that was when Harley Aldridge stepped in. He’d always had a soft spot for addicts because he lost his own daughter to addiction. When he learned about Cassidy, her dying, it broke his heart but he wasn’t going to let her child be lost in the system, so he started looking for him.”
“Cassidy’s baby was a boy?” Those words from Arissa were broken.
“Yeah, a healthy baby boy.”
Arissa couldn’t move, that knot in her stomach was a full on ache now. It was all there, but she was afraid to allow the picture to form because as soon as she confirmed it… Bile rushed up her throat. She swallowed it down, forced herself to ask, “Is there a record of his birth?”
“No, Harley had asked for that too, but his records must have gotten lost.”
“Did Harley ever learn what happened to the baby?”
Silence settled for a few seconds before Sasha said, “From what I can remember, he was on to something, said so himself but never had the pen to connect the dots.”
Arissa knew what it was Harley had discovered and wished she’d heeded Hank’s advice and laid off. And still she asked, “How did you know it was a boy then?”
Sasha responded instantly, “Catherine told me.”
Arissa was going to be sick. She hurried inside. “Thank you,” she rushed out, didn’t wait for a response before she ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Craig appeared. “Shit, you look like I feel.”
Arissa wiped at her mouth, leaned back against the wall.
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you the rest.” Craig wondered out loud.
Arissa ignored him and asked, “Were there any records of Catherine getting pregnant?” Arissa rested her head in her hands, her eyes closing, her body sinking into the black behind them. Arissa whispered, “Please, please tell me there is.”
“No, there’s no record of Catherine getting pregnant, but what’s even stranger…”
Arissa lifted her head and just knew what he was about to say next was going to change everything.
“Catherine and Henry Weathers didn’t exist prior to nineteen eighty-four.”
Fuck. Arissa closed her eyes again, her heart ached with the news she had to share with Hank, and then she abruptly stood, her movements frantic as she hurried about the hotel room, grabbing at her things. “I’ve got to get home.”
20
Hank had just finished making patties from the chopped meat when he saw Arissa pull down his drive. His girl was coming home today, she was gonna get one of his burgers but that was after he fucked her. Hank was so excited that he took the day off. Fuck it if the crazies burned down the town, Arissa was back. It had only been a few days but to Hank it felt like he’d been waiting forever for her. Actually, he had been and didn’t realize it until she walked into his life.
He put the plate in the fridge, washed his hands and moved to the deck. Arissa was sitting in her car, the engine off but she was staring ahead, her eyes unseeing. Hank waited a second, watching her. She must be tired. Then he put two fingers in his mouth and blew. The loud whistle had Arissa jerking out of her trance; her eyes darted to him. She didn’t smile.
Hank waited for her to slowly open the car door and just, if not more, slowly exit it.
“There’s my girl,” Hank said with a huge grin. “Tired?” He asked as she dragged her feet along the asphalt to the steps. She hadn’t even started to climb. She just stared at him. “Sweetheart, what’s up?”
Arissa had the car ride to figure out the best way to drop the news on him and couldn’t think of one single way that wasn’t going to hurt him. And the thought of hurting him had the tears she’d been fighting since that morning filling her eyes again. She moved then, right into him, hitting him with enough force he was jarred back a step. Her arms wrapped around his waist, she buried her face in his chest. “I love you,” she said, almost chanting it. She felt his body go tense, his muscles turning to stone. She glanced up, and the wave of emotion that moved over his face had her saying again. “I love you. You know how much I love you, right?”
She was moving back to the city. This was it, history was repeating itself. His throat felt like it was closing when he grated out. “Yeah.” He enclosed his arms around her, closed his eyes stamping this memory into the book.
Arissa held him as tightly as he held her. Her eyes didn’t leave his, saw when he closed his own, but not before seeing that damn shadow again. She took a deep breath then confessed, “I didn’t let it lie.”
The hold he had on her slacked, his voice was even when he asked, “Come again?”
“I was, and then you called and told me about Harley.” She moved away from him because she had to get it out, all of it and then she would brace for the storm that followed and hoped like hell they got to the other side together. “I talked to Harley’s assistant…” Arissa pulled a hand through her hair, watching the twisting of Hank’s face. “There’s no easy way to say this.” She leveled him with pain-filled eyes. “Your mother used to work at a shelter in Charleston. And from what I uncovered…fuck. I think your mother kidnapped you and—”
Hank blinked his eyes and in the second it took him to do so, his brain registered Arissa’s last words. His voice was low, but when he spoke, cutting Arissa off, it was rough. “Excuse me?” Hank took a step back wanting another few inches between them.
Arissa felt cold, right to the bone from the harshness of his tone, but she didn’t let up. He needed to know. “Catherine Barbos, your mom, worked at a shelter. She helped addicts who were pregnant. One addict had a baby but she overdosed. There’s no records on that baby, and those who knew of him were told about the baby by your mom.” She paused, Hank’s eyes growing darker with every word she spoke, then she added the last. “There’s no record of your mother ever giving birth, and more damning, there’s no record of Henry and Catherine Weathers prior to nineteen eighty-four.”
Hank swayed, the cold sensation flowing through his veins caused a chill down his spine. He was trying to process all the i
nformation but nothing was penetrating. Nothing but how Arissa, the woman he loved, the woman he was going to build a life with deceived him. The words came out one by one in a deep rumble. “You went behind my fucking back?”
The way he was looking at her almost brought her to her knees. She had known she was risking everything, and seeing the look in his eyes, she feared she really had lost him, but he needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth and if that cost her him…just thinking it had her biting back the sob. “I did. I had hoped to bring you peace, to bring Catherine peace, I never imagined I’d learn this.” She took a step closer and he took a step away. Her heart cracked, and her voice broke. “It’s not an excuse, but my heart was in the right place.”
The woman standing in front of him wasn’t the one he thought he knew. The pain hit his chest, the ache in his heart causing him to stumble back, grabbing the railing. He lowered his head, his eyes moving to his sneakers. “Get out,” he whispered.
Arissa didn’t move, refusing to believe those words, wishing with everything in her that he’d close the distance, pull her close, but he wouldn’t even look at her. She stood helpless, looking at the one thing in the world she wanted but he didn’t want her, not anymore. “I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry.”
When he only stood there, she turned, her heart splintering in her chest. She didn’t remember walking back to her car. All that played through her mind was the sight of Hank’s devastation. She had wanted to help him, but instead she’d broken him and—she tried to breathe through the unbearable pain—she’d lost him.
Hank heard her steps and with every one she took the pain radiated through his body. He was breathing heavily through his nose trying to keep his emotions at bay. Anger and sadness struggled inside him. Finally, he raised his head just in time to see her car pull out onto the street. He watched as she slowed to almost a full stop before she hit the gas and was gone.
Kidnapped?
Catherine Barbos?
Nineteen eighty-four?
His mind was spinning out of control. Numbly, Hank moved into his house. Walked to the island, eyed the pie that he had made for Arissa as a surprise. In a blink of an eye, he snatched it up and chucked it across the room. The sound of glass shattering echoed through the space. His legs gave out, falling to his ass, Hank leaned his back against the island. Legs bent, elbows to his knees, he let his head fall into his hands.
He didn’t allow himself to drown in the thoughts running through his mind. He had been the sheriff of Summerville for eight years; he wasn’t just going to lay down. He was going to get to the bottom of it. Rising, he snatched his keys from the island and bolted out the door. Within a few moments he was flying into his parents’ driveway, flinging the truck into park before jumping out. Taking the steps two at a time, Hank entered his parents’ house and made a beeline to the kitchen.
His mother looked up from the dishes she was washing, saw the look on his face, turned off the water, braced and asked, “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Hank didn’t sugarcoat it, just blurted out, “You kidnap me?”
All the color rushed from Catherine’s face, her hands gripped the edge of the sink. She knew this day was coming, had known it would come and still she wasn’t prepared. “Who told you that?” she whispered.
“Does it matter,” he shot out and asked again, his voice firmer this time. “Did you kidnap me?”
“Jesus,” she muttered, and moved to the table, pulled out a chair and sank down heavily onto it. “I knew we should have told you.” She glanced up with concern in her eyes. “We love you. It wasn’t a kidnapping. Your birth mother was an addict. She died and instead of letting you become collateral damage, we gave you a home, a family, love.”
Hank leveled hard eyes on his mother trying to read the expression on her face. It was one Hank had never seen and he was familiar with the many faces of Catherine Weathers. “Where are the records?” He bit out.
She glanced down before she answered. “There are no records, Hank. Yes, we didn’t go through the proper channels, but I knew your birth mother.” She said more softly. “I know she would have wanted us to take you, to give you what she couldn’t. We broke the law, but I’m not sorry we did.”
Hank sank back into the island; he needed the support. “When did she die?”
Catherine held his stare and offered softly, “Right after she gave birth.” She stood, walked to Hank but didn’t touch him. “I worked with women like your mother. Overcoming an addiction, throwing pregnancy into the mix, it rarely works. And knowing the true victims, the babies, were often lost in a system not equipped to care for them, I wasn’t going to let that happen to you.”
Hank moved, putting distance between him and his mother…or more precisely, the woman that raised him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to breathe evenly. “Why wouldn’t you do it all the right fucking way?” Hank watched his mother’s mouth open but his next comment came out before she could answer his first. “Make it all fucking legit. I’m the fucking law, Ma, this is all fucked.” He turned, took a deep breath and walked to the other side of the island.
“Hank, we’re not proud we didn’t follow the law, but we wanted a baby so badly. Had tried for years, spent more money than we had trying to get pregnant. Then I met your mother, we bonded and when she died it was like a higher power was answering my prayers. There was no guarantee we’d get you but what was guaranteed was you wouldn’t be loved more by others than you were by your father and me.”
Hank’s voice rose with anger when he asked, “You know by law I can arrest you, you know that, right?”
“I do. It’s hung over our heads but it’s balanced with watching you grow to the man you are. It was worth the risks.”
Hank looked to his hands resting on the counter. Fuck. Jesus. What did he do? Without raising his head, he whispered, “Who else knows?”
A little color of contrition appeared on her cheeks. “No one. Only your father and I know and that’s how we wanted to keep it. It was safer.”
Hank shook his head. Jesus. He couldn’t get past the fact that the woman that cared for him, made him cupcakes for his birthday parties and sang to him when he was sick was a felon. How in the fuck? His voice was low when he raised his head and questioned, “This is why you sheltered me all these years?”
“Yes, we were overprotective because we didn’t want to lose you. Was that wrong? Maybe, but our hearts were in the right place.” She paused, took a deep breath and added, “We wanted to tell you so many times, but then you became the sheriff. How did we put that on you? I know this is a lot to take in and I know my son, you need time, but we are here when you’ve had time to get your head around it.” Another pause before she asked, “How did you find out?”
Hank crossed his arms over his chest, his stance firm when he dismissed his mother’s question and said, “I wanna make this legit.”
The color washed from her face again before she whispered, “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Hank’s stiff form went lax. He was waiting for a fight, but when his mother folded in so quickly he told her how he found out. “Arissa.”
She shook her head. “I don’t mean to tell you your business. You’re an adult and a smart man, but don’t you find it curious that she not only sought out dirt on us, but also comes running to you when she finds something, so eager to paint a picture of your father and I in an unfavorable light. She’s been sabotaging us from the beginning. In your shoes, I would be asking myself why.”
Hank’s eyes drifted to the window. He took in the view he had seen so many times. The daisies were blooming, leaving a decorated barrier between the yards. Was his mother right? Why…why did Arissa dig a hole into his past? Hank knew well enough now that she didn’t back down when he told her to. What was her motive? Hank’s eyes moved back to his mom at the sam
e time he moved from the counter. “I need time to think,” he said and started down the hall toward the front door.
“Take all the time you need, Honey. We’ll be here. We’ll always be here for you.”
Hank didn’t even offer a wave, a grunt…nothing as he walked out of his parents’ house knowing from this moment on his life would be forever changed.
* * *
Arissa finished packing another box. When she had started packing, it was nothing but love she’d felt and now she was sick in the stomach. She should have left the past in the past. It wasn’t any of her business to go prying, and even saying that to herself, he needed to know the truth.
What made her ill was realizing that it was possible she told Hank about his mother not for his benefit but her own. Had she wanted Catherine out of the picture so badly that she was willing to sully her name? What had she done anyway? She took in a baby who had no one and gave him a loving home and family. That didn’t make her a monster. Arissa battled the tears that hadn’t stopped because she was beginning to think the only monster in the scenario was her. No wonder Hank had told her to get out. She didn’t blame him.
Hank.
Her legs went weak, and she dropped onto the stool. She’d lost him. Remembering how he couldn’t even look at her, the void of emotion when he ordered her out, the pain was like taking a knife to the chest. Staying in Summerville just wasn’t an option anymore.
The sound of the door had her heart jumping. She hurried to it, hoping it was Hank even knowing it wasn’t, but pulled it open to see Catherine. A car was idling on the street, Henry behind the wheel.
“After the shit you pulled, the least you can do is invite me in,” Catherine said, looking down her nose at Arissa while trying to cling to her southern hospitality.
Absently, Arissa held the door wider. Catherine pushed past Arissa into her house, then made herself at home by walking through the rooms, seeing the boxes everywhere. She turned to the younger woman, lifted a brow. “So you have more sense than I thought. You’re leaving?”
