Lycos (Guardian Security Shadow World Book 3)

by Kris Michaels

  “So… I guess you are going to let us stay here?”

  “Right.”

  Lycos listened to the uneven shuffle step as the woman approached. He leaned over and gaged her progress.

  In one arm she carried the boy's backpack and a small stack of clothes. Without looking at him, she extended her hand, and Ethan immediately grabbed it with his. The young man was almost as tall as his mom. She was maybe five feet. An inch or two over, perhaps. The kid had big hands and bigger feet. He'd tower over her soon. Damn good thing the kid was well mannered.

  Her eyes stayed on the ground, and she asked, “May we please use your bathroom to clean up?”

  Lycos ran his hand around the back of his neck. Fuck it. “Look, you can go anywhere in the house. With the exception of my office, everything is fair game. The office is off limits. Period. But, there is a smaller bedroom next door to mine. I'll move some of the stuff I have stored there, and you and the kid can have that. It has its own bathroom. Give me ten minutes.”

  He stalked out of the kitchen and up the incline. The spare room was sparse as far as furniture. A bed and a dresser. He stacked his boxed overflow of books against the wall and glanced at the space. The queen-sized bed should work for them. He would need to pull clean bedding and towels from the storage area and bring them up, but the space was now habitable.

  A scuffling behind him drew his attention to the hall. The duo appeared at the door. “Bathroom is through there. Kid, come back down with me, and I'll fix you up with bedding and towels.”

  She stepped back out of his way, dropping her son's hand. The boy kept pace beside him all the way to the storage area. Kid was kinda like Dog in that respect. Trailing right along.

  He stood silently and held out his arms as Lycos dropped sheets and blankets into the the eleven-year-old’s hands. He eyed the kid and nodded toward the incline. “I'll bring the rest.”

  The boy nodded and cinched his arms around the mountain of fabric before he headed up the incline. Dog fell into step with him. It was almost as if the animal refused to let the boy be alone.

  Lycos grabbed towels, a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. He didn't have anything special, didn't need it, so they were going to have to make do with his bar soap and biodegradable shampoo.

  He mounted the incline again and dropped the stuff on top of the dresser. “Food will be ready in about an hour.” That was as close to an invite as he was going to give. They could stay up here and starve or eat with him. Didn't matter to him. At all.

  Chapter 10

  “Why do I have to stay in here?” Ethan struggled to pull his thermal shirt over his head as he asked.

  “We don't want to make him mad.”

  “He said we could as long as we stay out of his office. I wanna go see where Dog is.” Ethan's head popped through the neck of the white long-sleeved shirt. His hair smooshed down in awkward angles.

  “Go comb your hair and brush your teeth.”

  “Got no toothbrush.”

  “Wrap a washcloth around your finger and use toothpaste.” She needed to go down to the supplies he'd brought from the cabin and see if he'd thought to bring their bathroom supplies.

  “That's gross.”

  “Ethan.”

  “All right.” His sigh preceded him into the bathroom. Bethanie wrapped her arms around herself. She had the chills. A hot shower would do wonders for her, physically and emotionally. She didn't know how to take this version of their hostile savior. Instinct told her to be wary. He'd already lashed out at her for no reason. His reticent attempt at an apology spoke volumes. The man didn't like to admit he was wrong. She glanced at the smaller room he'd given them to use. The term smaller was completely wrong. The room echoed. In fact, it was an antechamber of the upstairs cave. Or that was how she was rectifying it in her mind. Downstairs cavern and upstairs caves.

  She listened to Ethan humming in the bathroom as he combed his hair. He bounced out of the bathroom and looked at her expectantly. “You can go find the dog, but you stay away from the man and don't talk to him unless he talks to you.”

  “Okay. May I watch another movie?”

  “If you use your headphones.”

  “Thank you!”

  She cringed as Ethan's words echoed in the room. “We need to be quiet.”

  “Sorry,” Ethan sighed and pulled the door open. Apparently, everything was dramatic at eleven.

  Shuffling through to the bathroom, she shifted out of her clothes, folding each piece neatly before she turned on the water and slid under the soft fall. The white noise buffered some of the emotional baggage that had been flitting around her brain. For the time being, she and Ethan were stuck here with a volatile man. Until he proved differently, she planned on being a very quiet, compliant, ghost.

  She shivered and closed her eyes. Years fell away as her mind catapulted to the time after she'd been taken away. Keep your mouth shut, and do exactly what you are told, when you are told. Those lessons had been burned into her. When Harvey took her, she'd acted the same way. In her heart, she’d believed the way she acted had saved her life and afforded her the opportunity to raise Ethan. But in the eleven years since she delivered her baby, she'd learned. Learned that life wasn't a constant bow and scrape. She'd made friends. Friends Harvey had vetted, but still, that small privilege had opened so many avenues. She learned she could grow things! A small herb garden given to her as a present one Christmas from one of the mothers on the playground opened her world in ways she’d never imagined. She knew her situation was not normal. Harvey's patronage of her and Ethan came at a price. However, she took advantage of the small privileges he allowed. Bethanie copied actions and emulated the mannerisms of the mothers at the park. She smiled at people, engaged in conversations, she learned.

  Harvey had never seen her other persona. She'd been careful to keep her eyes downcast, her mannerisms meek, and her answers concise. She’d protected Ethan from her meetings with Harvey. He saw his father so infrequently, and Ethan didn't seem to notice the changes in her when Harvey was at the apartment. Or at least she didn’t think he had. She now suspected he’d seen far more than she gave him credit for.

  Harvey never changed. He constantly reminded her of his indulgences. He'd detail her purchases, the seedlings he'd allow her to buy, the equipment and nutrients to grow the plants she adored. He also reminded her he could take everything away with a snap of his fingers. On several occasions he had. He’d arranged for James’ mom to watch Ethan and summoned her to The Residence. Those weekends away from Ethan had been hard. Her remedial training… Bethanie closed her eyes and shivered at the horrendous memories. She thought she’d shielded Ethan from that, too.

  But, since being here on the mountaintop in the middle of nowhere, she'd learned that Ethan had felt or seen all that she’d thought well hidden. The fear, the uncertainty, and the anxiety she'd tried to shield him from had found him, and it made her soul ache.

  Bethanie soaped her body as her memories cascaded, matching the water's flow. She'd made so many stupid mistakes, but she’d found role models. James' mother for one. Learning to live was hard. Learning to live chained to a controlling monster was almost impossible. Almost. But she'd clawed forward, always looking over her shoulder. Always wondering if Harvey knew what she was doing. Excuses for her actions were ready and at hand. She played scenarios a thousand different ways before she made a decision. Sometimes the decision was to do nothing, not to reach for the opportunity in front of her. Risks to her, she could tolerate. When the risks involved Ethan? No. The gain would never be worth the price Harvey would extract.

  A thread of white shampoo formed in her palm and she replaced the container of shampoo. The suds formed around her fingertips. She sighed then coughed. Along with the current situation, her chills, chapped lips, and cough weighed her down. She couldn't afford to be sick.

  Her tired brain flicked from the past to the present. Their situation could be dangerous. Their nameless host had already
exploded, and all she'd done was thank him. He tolerated Ethan. Fed him, kept him from the elements. She was thankful for that. She turned off the water and pulled a towel into the shower stall with her. Her best course of action would be to keep out of his way. Thankfully the bedroom and bathroom were large.

  The warmth of her clean clothes hugged her tightly. She used the towel to dry as much water out of her thick curls as she could before she tossed it onto the rack to dry. After she brushed her teeth and combed the knots out of her hair, she took stock of the room. The boxes in the corner were open. She peeked in. Books. The titles she could see were in foreign languages. Or she assumed they were because they made no sense if they were in English. She moved to the next box, more of the same, although several titles were in English. The third box held several medical journals, a pharmacology book, a physician’s desk reference, and several books on genetics. She picked one up and flipped it open. There were dog-eared pages. She scanned the highlighted passages. The man was obviously researching the effects of a genetic defect.

  She carefully closed the book and replaced it. Was he sick? Was that why he lived out here alone? She glanced at the door. No, she wasn't going to presume. She knew two things about that man. He didn't want them here, and he thought she was stupid. The first she'd rectify as soon as the storm abated. The second she'd use to her advantage. Tucking herself back into the shell she'd so recently shed wasn't difficult. She'd do anything to protect Ethan.

  She opened the door as quietly as she could and checked the hall. The lights in the office were out, but a beam of light from his bedroom could be seen under the small crack of his door. Bethanie edged out of her room at the same time as he opened the door.

  She immediately retraced her steps, trying to stay out of his way.

  “Don't do that.” His voice carried to her in a sharp, deep command. Even though he hadn't spoken loudly, the words arrested her.

  She stilled and cast her eyes to the floor. Waiting. Don't move, don't talk, don't assume. She felt the cloak of her past lessons flow over her. She didn't know what the 'that' was he didn't want her to do, and she wouldn't endanger them with another outburst asking what he meant. So, she waited.

  “Holy fuck, woman, I'm not going to beat you.” He moved forward and she, from years of programming, shied away sharply.

  “What in the hell happened to you to make you like this?” He stopped about three feet from her. She could see his feet.

  “Life.” She regretted the word as soon as it escaped her. She flinched and glanced up at him. Those dark brown eyes were hard as flint.

  “Your life sucked that bad? What kind of bastards taught you to fear like this?”

  She sent him a quick look. The ‘like you’ she wanted to include was left unsaid.

  “Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want you jumping at the fucking shadows. You act like I'm going to swing at you at any second. I've done nothing but raise my voice, so you need to regroup. If nothing else, think about your kid.”

  Bethanie lifted her chin. “I am thinking about my son; he is the only thing I think about. You don't want us here. We'll stay out of your way until we can leave.”

  “Fuck me standing, woman. I was half out of my mind! I'm supposed to be taking care of you, and you get lost on my watch. You could have died. The decisions you made put your life in jeopardy. You could've died and left that kid alone in a blizzard. No kid deserves to be alone. Ever. You feeling me?”

  She watched him pull his hands through his hair before he dropped them in defeat. “I'm not going to hurt you or the kid.”

  She blinked at him. Words were wonderful weapons. They gave hope and cut brutally straight to a person's soul. Her ears had been filled with glorious promises and horrendous threats. Words meant nothing.

  He nodded toward the big cavern. “I'm putting dinner on the table. Join me or don't. I'm through trying here.”

  She waited a moment, debating her next move. When a soft thud of a cabinet door followed by the rattle of pans told her he'd made it to the kitchen, she followed him down the incline. Ethan and the dog snuggled together on the big couch by the fire. The animal was curled, lying down, and Ethan's head was propped up on the dog as he watched his movie. Delicious aromas of roasting meat and onions filled the gigantic space.

  Bethanie edged into the kitchen and cleared her throat. “May I help?”

  He nodded to the far row of cabinets. “Silverware is in the second drawer, next to the dishwasher. Plates and glasses above. Everything else is in one of the cabinets or the fridge.” He waved purple oven-mitted hand toward the cabinets next to him. That touch of domesticity disarmed her. It was hard to think him a monster with purple oven mitts on his hands.

  She gathered what she needed and ensured she and Ethan were on the same side of the table. She opened the massive refrigerator and found the butter. There was a gallon of milk and several sodas in the door. “Ethan, what do you want to drink? Milk or water?”

  “May I have a soda, please?”

  She glanced at the man. No, Ethan didn't need the soda. He could have water. “Okaaay, water it is.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes.

  She moved to the other cabinets to look for the salt and pepper. The man dropped the knife and serving fork he was using to carve the roast and headed to the refrigerator. He whipped open the door, grabbed a can of soda, and plopped it down on the tabletop.

  “Get your kid whatever he wants. I told you, I'm not going to hurt you or him. If it is in this house, it's yours.” He turned back to the stove. “Except for my office, you and the kid don't have any restrictions.”

  Bethanie deposited the salt and pepper shakers onto the table and filled Ethan's glass with ice and soda.

  “If he needs more, I have about ten cases of those in the storage room closest to the back door.”

  Bethanie glanced at him as he fished out the roasted vegetables from the pan. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Go grab the kid.”

  “His name's Ethan. I'm Bethanie.” She offered the tentative olive branch again.

  “Ryan Wolf.” The man didn't look up from his task as he spoke.

  Bethanie drew a deep breath as she walked across the expanse to the living room area. Her feet were still sore, but not as bad as they had been this morning. She slowed as she approached, taking in the comforting solitude the far end of the cave provided. The logs in the fireplace had burned down. The coals that remained cast a golden hue toward the couch.

  Dog tracked her movements as she approached. He lifted his head as she reached toward Ethan, not threatening her, but watching carefully. She grabbed his toe and shook it gently. “Time to eat.”

  “Okay. It smells good, doesn’t it?” Ethan pushed off his headphones as he spoke.

  “Indeed. Our host’s name is Mr. Wolf, by the way.”

  “Really?” He looked up in surprise.

  “Yes, sir.” Ryan Wolf was a problem because she really didn't understand what he wanted from her, but until she did, she was going to be very, very careful.

  “Cool.”

  “Go wash your hands.”

  “I didn't do anything to get dirty.”

  “Did you pet the dog?”

  “Well, yeah, but he isn't dirty.”

  “Ethan.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  The sighed words stretched back to her as he and the dog headed up to their newly assigned room. She smiled despite the circumstances. That sigh. Ethan had a broad vocabulary of sighs, each eloquent with different meanings. She waited at the end of the incline as her son, and the dog, trotted back down the ramp. The animal's massive head was almost at Ethan’s shoulder, but its tongue lolled out of its mouth resembling a smile. Something about the sight lightened her heart for a moment.

  “Gross, Mom… Dog drank out of the toilet!” Ethan laughed, and the dog cocked his head.

  Bethanie shook her head. “Um, okay then, from now on we leave the toilet seat down. I don
't think he's supposed to drink out of the toilet.”

  “I wish I could break him from that.” Ryan's voice behind her spun them both. He pointed at the animal. “Go on, go outside, take a break.”

  The dog turned and walked away. The lights illuminated as he traveled. The slight whir of his dog door sounded.

  Ethan turned. “Can’t he freeze out there or get lost in the blizzard?”

  “No, he's smart.”

  Ryan's reply drove a verbal spike into her. The dog was smart enough to stay alive outside but she wasn’t. He thought she was stupid. His words shouldn't matter, but in a conditioned reflex, she bowed her head and lowered her eyes. She leaned forward and nudged Ethan toward the kitchen. Ethan glanced one more time at the dog door before he entered the kitchen.

  Ethan caught her shift in mood. She could see it in the way he looked at her. She smiled at him and nodded toward the plates in front of them. Ryan had served the meal along with crusty bread and a bowl of deep brown gravy. All three sat down and unceremoniously dug in. The scrapes of knives and forks against the dinnerware were the only sounds in the cavern. If she and Ethan had been alone, they would have been chattering away, but he'd learned to follow her clues. She could tell he was doing the same now. He put his fork down between each bite and chewed his food completely. He even ate the despised carrots.

  When she'd finished what Ryan had served, she sat quietly with her eyes down and her hands folded in her lap. Ethan arranged his fork and knife on the plate the way she'd taught him to indicate he’d finished. “May I please be excused, Mr. Wolf?”

  Ryan sighed and nodded his head. Ethan watched him for a moment longer before he stood, slid his chair in, and carried his dishes to the counter. He glanced at her and waited for her to nod before he quietly walked out of the kitchen.

  “That son of a bitch did a number on you two.” Ryan forked more meat onto his plate and poured gravy over the slices.

  Bethanie didn't respond. There was no need to confirm what was obvious. She cleared her throat. “May I be excused?”