“Hey, Emmie-bear,” he said, when Emmie announced that he would get the honor of tucking her in for the night. “I’m so glad you picked me because I have just the right story to read to you tonight!”
Brandi watched as the two of them, followed by Charlie, wagging his tail, went off to Emmie’s bedroom. She couldn’t help smiling a little at the sight of her daughter holding Bud’s wrinkled hand. Her stepfather was the only man in her life who had never let Brandi down. It made her happy that Emmie had at least one stable man in her life she could look up to.
With a sigh, she drifted to the bathroom and started drawing a bath. The tub was old and rusted but it still held hot water and that was all Brandi needed at the moment.
She usually made the water as hot as she could stand it but when she went to adjust the temperature this time, something made her turn the hot tap on low instead of high. Why was she doing that? Her bath would be barely tepid.
Her hand went for the hot knob again…then crept to her belly. Emmie’s words still rang in her ears.
“The baby brother you have in your tummy.”
That was ridiculous, right? But still…A bath that’s too hot might hurt the baby, whispered a voice in her head. Better safe than sorry!
It was silly but Brandi couldn’t bring herself to make the bathwater more than lukewarm. As she soaked in it, she tried not to think about Slade…or the fact that her period was late by almost a week now.
It’s been late before, she argued with herself. Sure—by a day here or there. Never by a whole week—not since she was pregnant with Emmie.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the intense look in Slade’s gold and green eyes when he told her he wanted to take care of her.
“Listen to me sweetheart: if I put a baby in you—if your belly swells with my child—I want to be there. To support and protect you and the baby—and Emmie too. No male of worth would ever even consider doing anything else.”
A male of worth. Emmie sighed. He had seemed like a male of worth—and then he’d admitted to being incarcerated for years before escaping from a maximum security space prison. And that awful memory in his head…
I can’t do it—I just can’t give him another chance. It’s not fair to Emmie or safe for her either, no matter how much she loves Slade.
What about how much you love him? whispered a little voice in her head. Admit it, Brandi—you were starting to care for him. The way he rescued you from Grabbar… the way he fixed your car…the easy way the conversation flowed with him…not to mention that incredible bonding scent of his…
Even now just the memory of his warm, masculine scent was enough to make her nipples tight and her pussy wet.
Brandi tried to push the desire away, tried not to remember the way he had gone down on her and made her come again and again…
That’s over now, she told herself firmly. Think about something else—like the settlement.
The settlement was a large chunk of cash that was currently coming her way from her ex-employer, the Bank of Tampa. After Brandi had shared her story with Josh, the man who wrote the Bay in Review blog, many other women had come forward too. Abuses and sexual harassment were brought to light—as well as the way the HR department had covered it up. The head of the Board of Directors was forced to resign and several other people—Harold Grabbar included—had lost their jobs and were now facing criminal charges.
The bank had also promised to pay a good bit of money to the women who had been harassed. It was going to be enough for Brandi to either move out and find her own apartment or go back to college. Not both, unfortunately but it was certainly better than nothing.
Brandi had been mulling over her options ever since she’d found out what her share of the settlement would be. On one hand, she really wanted to get away from the double wide she shared with Bud and her mom. Mostly because her mother’s drinking habits were going to become obvious to Emmie soon. Three nights out of five now, Ida-Mae staggered back to the trailer in the early morning hours, drunk and rowdy. It was a bad example for her daughter, and Brandi knew it.
She’d tried taking her mother to rehab and AA but neither one seemed to stick—mostly because Ida-Mae liked her lifestyle. And since there were never any consequences—Bud never left her and he covered the bills when she drank her paycheck away—she had no reason to stop. It saddened Brandi because when she was sober, her mom was a wonderful grandmother, often baking cookies or playing dolls with Emmie for hours. Unfortunately, the sober days were getting few and far between, leading Brandi to think it was time to move out before Emmie got old enough to start asking questions and thinking that it was normal or right for someone to drink their life away.
So getting out of the double wide was a very attractive option. But on the other hand, if she could just hold on a few more years she could go back to school at HCC’s Plant City campus. They had a nursing program Brandi was really interested in and since there was a nursing shortage at the moment, she knew she would be able to get a good paying job that would enable her to support herself and Emmie much more comfortably if she could just get through it.
I suppose I’ll have to put up with Mom’s shenanigans a little while longer until I can get through school, Brandi told herself. Wish I could afford to go back to school and move out at the same time.
But that was a pipe dream. Even with the settlement money she would still have to take some loans and get at least a part-time job to make ends meet.
A longing suddenly swept over her—a longing for a partner—a wish that she wasn’t so alone. Of course, Bud was a wonderful support even if her mom wasn’t, but it wasn’t the same as having a father for Emmie—a man who would help her carry the financial and emotional burden of parenthood and life in general. A man to cuddle up to in bed at night, a man she could talk to about her day, a man who would love and support her no matter what…
A man like Slade, whispered a little voice in her head. Brandi was almost too tired to push it away. The longing she felt became a deep yearning—a wish that she could let the big Kindred back into her life.
But she couldn’t—she’d be a bad mom if she let her daughter be around a convicted murderer and felon! The kind of mom who puts her own needs and desires above the safety of her kids. And after being raised the way she had been by her own mother, Brandi was determined not to repeat Ida-Mae’s mistakes.
There was no way around it, she had to keep Slade out of her life, no matter how much it hurt.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she wrapped herself in a towel and went to her room. Slipping into a worn, comfortable old nightshirt, she cuddled down in bed and reached for the big body pillow she kept to snuggle with when she felt especially lonely.
With a sigh, Brandi wrapped her legs and arms around the pillow and buried her face in its soft side. She knew it was pathetic but it usually brought her comfort. Not tonight, though. She felt nothing but cold and alone and sad. Finally she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer—low, hoarse sobs came from her throat and she did her best to muffle them in the pillow.
Her sorrow was made worse because somewhere in the back of her head she could feel Slade’s misery as well. The big Kindred was longing for her tonight. Though he was careful not to project his thoughts into her mind, she could still catch his emotions when they were especially strong.
Slade, I’m sorry, she thought, crying harder. So sorry but I can’t risk it—can’t risk Emmie. Please…please try to understand.
At last, all cried out, she fell asleep with her head on the damp pillow. She didn’t even wake when her mother came home around four in the morning, drunk and loud as always when she’d been at the bar too late.
Someone else did wake up, though.
* * * * *
Emmie sat up, wide-eyed as she heard her Grandma Ida-Mae come in. Sometimes Grandma Ida drank too much bad smelling medicine—it smelled like cough syrup to Emmie. After she drank the bad medicine, she couldn’t talk right and she fell
down a lot. It scared Emmie when her Grandma got like that so she huddled down in her covers and called for Charlie to jump up on the bed with her.
Charlie wasn’t supposed to be on the bed and he knew it but when Emmie called, he came. He might be kind of bad about wanting to chew her Dora shoes, but he was a pretty good dog besides that. Emmie threw her arms around his furry neck and buried her face in his ruff, breathing in his warm, doggie scent.
Before Grandma had waked her up, being so loud, she had been dreaming again—a dream of the Daddy-man, as tall as a tree with eyes that were two different colors. But both eyes had looked sad in her dream, almost like the Daddy-man had been crying because he missed her and Mommy so much.
Emmie sniffed when she thought of it. Why couldn’t Mommy see that the Daddy-man was good? She knew he had done some bad things in the past but he would never hurt Emmie, any more than her real daddy would. And now both her daddies—her real one and the Daddy-man—had been sent down the river.
If I could only find them I could bring them back, Emmie told herself. If I could only get to the river…
Then she remembered that she knew where the river was now. In fact, it started not far from their trailer and led into the woods.
A sudden thought occurred to her—why shouldn’t she go down the river herself and get her daddies? Mommy wouldn’t go—she wouldn’t believe Emmie that Daddy-man was really good in his heart—like an apple that has some bumps and bruises on the outside but is sweet and juicy on the inside. But Emmie bet if she could bring the Daddy-man back, then Mommy would have to talk to him again and then she would see how good he was.
“I’ll do it!” Emmie whispered in the darkness. Not wanting to wait, she climbed out of bed at once and slipped her feet into her slightly-Charlie-chewed Elmo slippers. Charlie himself whimpered softly and jumped off the bed to stand beside her.
“Come on, Charlie—but be quiet. Shhhh.” Emmie put a finger to her lips and shushed the excitable dog. She grabbed her little pink flashlight that Grandpa Bud had given her to keep by her bed in case she got scared and opened the door as quietly as she could. She had to make sure not to wake Mommy, whose room was right next to hers.
She thought about trying to leave a note, but though she could read, she wasn’t really great at writing yet. And besides, she would probably find the Daddy-man and bring him back before Mommy even woke up. So what was the point of a note?
Emmie snuck out into the living room and Charlie came with her, both of them padding softly over the carpet. Trying to stay as quiet as possible, Emmie snuck over to the trailer door.
This was the only problem—the trailer had a clicky-lock on the doorknob that was easy enough to open. But there was also a bolt way-high-up—lots higher than Emmie could reach—and it was always locked at night.
But tonight, it was like everything was working just right for her. The big bolt was unlocked and in fact, even the little bottom clicky-lock was open. Emmie had no problem at all turning the knob and letting herself and Charlie out of the house.
There were stars overhead and the moon was bright too—that was nice. The air was hot and sticky and humid but since Emmie had been born in Florida, it just felt like a normal night to her.
Once she was a safe distance from the trailer, she turned on her pink flashlight and shone it around until its thin beam caught on the little trickle of water that came out of the woods.
“There it is,” she told Charlie who was panting quietly beside her. “There’s the start of the river. Now all we have to do is go down it, into the woods, and we’ll find the daddies—maybe both or maybe just the Daddy-man. But that would be okay, right?”
Charlie whuffed quietly as though in agreement.
“All right,” Emmie told him. “Then come on—let’s go.”
Taking a deep breath, she stepped in the soft ground by the side of the little trickle of water and started following it. When she got to the tangle of branches and vines her heart started to pound and for a minute she was afraid. But then she remembered a story she’d read in school about a mouse name Ralf who lived in a hotel.
Ralf made friends with a human boy and then the boy got sick and his parents couldn’t get him any medicine. Ralf knew where the medicine was but it was far away, across the hotel and past lots of mean humans and mouse traps and a big, scary cat. But Ralf had gone anyway and gotten his friend the medicine, even though he was afraid.
“I can be brave like Ralf,” Emmie told herself—and Charlie. “I can go down the river and find the Daddy-man. I know I can.”
And taking a deep breath, she plunged into the tangled, swampy woods.
Chapter Fourteen
Brandi woke up with the feeling that something was wrong.
What’s going on? she thought sleepily, rolling over into the thin stream of sunlight beaming through the double wide’s smudged bedroom window. Why is it so quiet in here?
It was a Saturday morning which meant that Emmie was allowed to watch as many cartoons as she could stand. Brandi monitored her TV consumption strictly the rest of the week. But on Saturday, Emmie got to get up early and go sit in front of the big TV that her Grandpa Bud usually watched sports on. She could drink in all the loud, colorful cartoons and kids’ shows she wanted.
But this morning it was strangely quiet.
Is Emmie sleeping in? Brandi immediately rejected the idea. The only time her daughter wasn’t up with the dawn was when she was sick. Uh-oh—that must be it.
Feeling worried, she pulled on her robe and went quickly into her daughter’s room.
“Emmie-bear, aren’t you feeling we…” Her words trailed off when she saw that Emmie’s bed was empty. Could she be playing quietly in the living room without turning on the TV? Maybe she was reading a book? That was certainly possible—Brandi had done everything she could to instill her love of reading in her child and it seemed to be paying off.
Walking quietly down the hallway, she peeked around the corner, hoping to catch Emmie engrossed in a book—a sight which always made her happy and gave her a little tingle of pride in her smart girl.
But Emmie wasn’t in the living room. And strangely enough, neither was Charlie.
Frowning, Brandi searched the rest of the trailer and couldn’t find either one of them. Her heart was galloping in her chest as she found herself back in the living room. Where could Emmie be?
Then her eyes happened to catch something she’d missed before. The front door of the trailer was open—not a lot—only a crack. But it was clearly open with none of the locks engaged. Had her mother come in late last night as usual and forgot to lock the door because she was drunk? Unfortunately, it was entirely possible.
Heart pounding in her throat, Brandi walked outside and looked around the trailer.
“Emmie?” she called, her voice breaking a little. “Emmie, are you out here?” Raising her voice she called, “Emmaline Clair Dixon, you get over here right now!”
Nothing.
Brandi’s legs felt weak and her stomach was as heavy as lead. A thousand thoughts started crowding into her mind.
What if Emmie had been kidnapped? What if some horrible perverted child snatcher had been watching her? What if he’d seen that the door was unlocked and come in and grabbed her right out of her bed? Or what if…
That was when she saw the small prints around the muddy trickle of water that run out of the swampy, tangled woods. The woods which were said to have a gator pond in the middle.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, falling to her knees beside the tracks. “Oh my God, no! Emmie…Emmie!”
* * * * *
Slade was jerked awake in the darkness of his suite by the feelings of sheer terror and dread pouring through the link.
“What the fuck?” he growled, sitting straight up in bed. Today wasn’t a workday for him so he hadn’t bothered to set a daylight alarm, preferring to sleep as long as he could instead. At least in his sleep he wasn’t tormented by feelings of loss and his ne
ver-ending longing for Brandi.
But now her extreme fear and anxiety woke him as surely as if she’d shouted in his ear. Was she hurt? Was someone attacking her again? His first instinct was to jump in a shuttle and fly to Earth at once but Slade told himself he needed to be cautious—he didn’t want to butt in if she didn’t want him.
Closing his eyes—though it was still totally dark in his bedroom—he listened hard, trying to concentrate on what was going on.
“Emmie! Where is she? I think she went in the woods! Have to find her—oh my God, how long as she been gone? How may hours? What if a snake bit her? What if a gator got her? Oh please, God, please—not my Emmie! Please, don’t take her—please!”
The frantic mix of frightened thoughts and jumbled prayers got Slade out of bed at once. A feeling of protectiveness washed over him when he thought of the sweet little girl in danger—a feeling that he had to go and get her, had to save her any way he could. He had to go down to Earth. Brandi might not want him around but it sounded like maybe she needed him, whether she liked it or not.
Calling for overhead lights, he got dressed as quickly as he could in leather trousers and boots and another one of the comfortable, stretchy t-shirts and set out for the Docking Bay at a run.
It was going to be a race to get to Emmie in time…and he might already be too late. But Slade was damned if he’d give up until he’d done everything he could do to save Emmie and reunite her with her mother. It didn’t matter if Brandi didn’t want him anymore—she and her daughter were still his to protect and he was damn well going to do his job.
* * * * *
“I’m sorry…I’m just so sorry. I never…never meant to leave the door open! Oh that poor sweet baby. It’s all my fault!”
Ida-Mae was still more than halfway intoxicated and her drunken bawling wasn’t helping the situation at all.
“Be quiet, Mom,” Brandi snapped. She was pushing as hard as she could, trying to get through the jumbled tangle of weeds and vines and bushes and branches but it was slow going and she wasn’t even sure she was taking the right direction. Or even if the woods was really where Emmie had gone.
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