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At Peace

Page 28

by Kristen Ashley


  I couldn’t fix him, I knew it, but here I was trying to do it.

  Joe’s hand sifted through my hair then his fingertips came to my hairline and did it again, holding it back as he twisted his neck so his mouth could get to my ear.

  “You’re stayin’, buddy, got a mind to eat you,” he murmured.

  I shivered.

  He never quit but I didn’t mind, not at all, I was freaking addicted to it.

  I lifted my head but Joe’s hand didn’t leave my hair.

  “I should go back,” I said, not moving.

  “Yeah,” Joe replied, “you should.”

  I still didn’t move. Neither did Joe.

  “Vi,” he called.

  “What?” I asked.

  Slowly, he smiled.

  Then he rolled me to my back.

  After awhile, I didn’t know why I was always whining to be on top.

  Being on my back was just fine.

  * * * * *

  I slid out of Joe’s bed and pulled on his tee.

  “Buddy, you keep stealin’ my tees, I won’t have any left.”

  I nabbed my undies and stepped into them, my head up looking at him as I did.

  “You gave me the first,” I reminded him.

  “You stole the next two,” he returned.

  “I only stole one.”

  “You’re wearin’ number two.”

  I couldn’t believe he was keeping track.

  “I’ll send Keira and Kate to the mall to buy you new ones.”

  “Christ, don’t do that. Fuck knows what they’ll come back with.”

  I gathered my clothes, tucked them in my arm and looked at him in bed, scarred belly and pectoral on display, but then so was his chest. It was nice, all of it, very nice, even though the sheet was pulled up to his waist. If it wasn’t then the view would have been nicer.

  “They take direction,” I told him.

  “When I was at the mall with you, Keira picked a bunch of shit for me. One of the shirts had fuckin’ flowers on it.”

  A little giggle escaped me at the idea of Joe wearing a shirt with flowers on it.

  “And it was pink,” Joe finished and a much bigger, louder giggle burst out of me.

  “You’d look good in pink,” I told him when I stopped giggling.

  “Lucky you’re outta arm’s reach, buddy, or I’d smack your ass.”

  I grinned at him then I blurted, “It’s Sunday.”

  “So?”

  “Sunday’s pancake day.”

  His face closed down and he muttered, “Buddy.”

  “Offer’s on the table, Joe. That’s all I’m sayin’,” I told him quickly, got close, put a hand in the bed and touched my mouth to his but when I pulled slightly away, I finished, “and I make fucking good pancakes.”

  Then, fast as I could, I straightened and moved out of the room.

  There it was again, me acting stupid, trying to fix Joe.

  I tried not to look at his house as I moved through it but even though I tried, I saw that it was likely he hadn’t changed a thing. It was tidy, even clean, though the thought of Joe cleaning was worthy of another giggle, it was true. But it was dated and drab, much more dated than seventeen years ago. I figured the house hadn’t changed since Joe’s Mom died, whenever that was but by the looks of things it was a long time ago.

  I went to his sliding glass door and out, hustling across the deck, down the steps but I caught movement. I looked across Joe’s yard, my yard and I saw Tina Blackstone in her yard, wearing a nightie and a robe, watering the flowers in her big, half-barrel, wooden tubs on her deck.

  She was watering her flowers but her eyes weren’t on her flowers, they were on me and even a yard away, I saw her mouth hanging open.

  Shit!

  I waved casually to her, rethinking way too late wearing Joe’s tee seeing as, if I was in my clothes, she wouldn’t know that I was over at Joe’s house, having sex with Joe, but now she couldn’t help but know. She couldn’t miss it.

  But who would have thought Tina would be out in her yard on a Sunday morning before eight o’clock watering her flowers?

  Her flowers were nice which was surprising, she didn’t seem the type to have a green thumb or even give a shit. They weren’t as nice as mine but they were nice. Still, it was Sunday. Even I, before Joe, wasn’t out on a Sunday before eight o’clock watering my flowers.

  I headed to my side door, fumbling with my jeans skirt to pull out the key and remote, hitting the remote so my sensors would go off and then struggling with my key. Seeing Tina had weirded me out and right then I was certain everyone would see me.

  I got into the house, rearmed the alarm and shot to my room.

  Then I took a shower and got ready for my day. I had the afternoon shift at the garden center and I needed to talk to Bobbie about changing the schedule so I could have next weekend off for Sam and Melissa.

  After a load of laundry went in and I’d checked my e-mail, Kate and Keira got up. They were still in their pjs on the stools at the bar. Kate was wearing a big t-shirt and a pair of slouchy pajama bottoms. Keira was wearing a camisole and a pair of slouchy pajama bottoms. Kate’s hair was down and partly tangled from sleep. Keira’s hair was in a messy ponytail at the very top of her head. I was at the stove, flipping the first batch of pancakes when Keira made a strange gurgling noise.

  Thinking she was choking on orange juice, I turned to her but she had an alarm remote in her hand and her eyes on the side kitchen door.

  She jumped off her stool, hit some buttons on the remote and screeched, “Joe!”

  I whirled to the door and stood staring at it, spatula in hand as Keira unlocked it, yanked the door open and Joe was standing there. I’d seen him through the window of the door but seeing him standing there, full-body, my breath, already stopped, escaped me.

  “I don’t know why you’re here but you have to have some of Mom’s pancakes. They’re better than her cupcakes,” Keira announced.

  “That good?” Joe asked, his eyes on me.

  Keira grabbed his hand and tugged him in, lying, “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Hey Joe,” Kate greeted.

  “Hey girl,” Joe greeted back.

  “You can sit on my stool,” Keira offered.

  “We should sit at the table, seein’ as there’s so many of us, I’ll get the plates,” Kate decided.

  “Girl –” Joe started but Kate was on the move and Keira had dropped his hand and was charging into the kitchen to help Kate.

  I was still staring at Joe.

  The girls exited the room balancing plates, cutlery, napkins, butter and maple syrup as Joe came to me.

  “Can your girls take over pancakes?” he asked, his face serious and seeing it, something ugly slid through me.

  I nodded.

  “Kate,” he called, looking into the dining area, “take over here, yeah?”

  She looked through the opening of the bar at Joe then at me then she nodded to Joe.

  Joe took the spatula out of my hand, put it on the counter and then he took my hand and dragged me to my bedroom.

  He closed the door and looked down at me.

  Then he lifted his hands, both of them, and settled them where my shoulders met my neck.

  “I’m not here for pancakes,” he told me.

  I nodded, staring up at him.

  “But I’m stayin’ for pancakes.”

  I nodded again, still staring.

  “Went out, looked to your house, you had a box at the steps to your front door.”

  Damn. I knew it.

  “White?” I asked. “Big purple bow?”

  I watched as his face went hard then he nodded. “Big bow, big box.”

  “Did you get it gone?”

  “Yeah, it’s in my house. Called Colt.”

  I nodded again.

  “That his thing?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s Sunday,” he told me.

  “Yeah.”
/>   “He ever do his thing on Sunday?”

  “No.” His hands gave me a squeeze and I asked, “What’s that mean?”

  “Don’t know.” He was watching me closely then he asked, “How solid are you right now?”

  “Not very.”

  He hesitated then nodded and said, “All right.”

  “Why?”

  “Later.”

  “No, I need it to hit me all at once so I can deal with it and move on, not spread it out. Spreading it out is bad so, even though I’m freaked, I want to know.”

  “Sure?”

  I nodded.

  His hands at my neck slid up to my jaws and he pulled me close, dipping his chin so he was close too.

  “Box was just out of sensor range,” Joe told me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Box was out of sensor range. I got sensors set so even if someone approaches the door, you know in the house, a preliminary alarm goes off so you’re aware. Remember, I told you that.”

  I nodded, I remembered.

  “You set the alarms for sleep, which I’m guessing you did when you came to me last night…” he let that hang and I nodded again.

  He had bunches of settings for the sensors, including one for when we were awake but in the house so, say, the postman came, or perhaps Kenzie Elise, we didn’t jump out of our skins because the preliminary alarm went off. But, in the middle of the night, no one should be lurking at our doors, so we had what he called a sleep setting too. It set off an alarm that we could hear, and Joe and Colt could too so they could investigate (and the bad guy could get the hint and go away), but only sent a message to dispatch if the doors and windows were breached or one of us didn’t turn the alarm off before the timer ran down on the message being sent to dispatch.

  Joe went on. “Anyone got close, the sensors would trip. Whoever put that box out there knows how the sensors are set.”

  “But you can see them,” I reminded him.

  “Box was just out of sensor range,” he repeated.

  “You said that.”

  “You can see them, buddy, but you can’t see the range.”

  I sucked in breath, realizing what this meant.

  “It’s a message, Vi,” Joe whispered, like whispering would soften the blow. “He’s tellin’ you he knows my system.”

  In other words, Daniel Hart was telling me he could get to me.

  “Joe,” I whispered.

  “He can’t bypass it,” Joe stated.

  “He knows it then he can bypass it.”

  “He can’t.”

  “But, Joe, he knows –”

  “Vi, he’d have to shut down the electrical grid for the entire fuckin’ county to bypass my system.”

  I blinked at him then I asked, “Really?”

  “Yeah. That wirin’ Chip fucked up?” he asked and I nodded yet again. “There you go,” he finished secretively, not enlightening me any further to the method to his madness that made him Security to the Stars.

  “Why has he not done anything for weeks and now a box?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” Joe answered.

  “Should I tell my girls?”

  “Don’t know.”

  He was full of it, he might not know but he had an opinion.

  “You never know what’s right with kids, you just wing it so what do you think? Should I tell the girls?” I pressed.

  He sighed and his hands slid from my jaw to my neck and down my back so he was holding me loosely in his arms.

  “They’re smart, they’re aware of the situation, they love you. Think they’d be pissed, buddy, you didn’t clue them in.”

  I nodded. He was right, even though I wasn’t certain I’d do it seeing as I was a Mom and didn’t want to freak them out more than they already were.

  “What was in the box?” I asked.

  “Didn’t open it, Colt’s comin’ to get it. You got a restraining order against him; he shouldn’t be sendin’ you gifts. You got the RO in Illinois, I need to check with Colt to see if the RO is in effect in the State of Indiana, likely is. We’ll be havin’ a conversation about that later and they’re gonna go over the box, maybe they can lift a print, lean on him for breaking the RO.”

  “Hart wouldn’t make that mistake with the prints.”

  Joe sighed, his arms gave me a gentle squeeze then he said, “I know.”

  I stood in his arms, feeling both pissed that this had started again and it just never seemed to freaking go away and feeling scared because this was back, it was here, in this safe little town and it just never seemed to freaking go away.

  “I’ll be over for your seafood, buddy,” he said.

  I focused on Joe and blinked.

  “What?”

  “Your brother and his woman, you’re making your seafood shit, I’ll be here.”

  Was he inviting himself over for a family dinner?

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “I get to know him at dinner, we have a nice night, move it to J&J’s. I ask him to play a game of pool, have a word.”

  Oh. He wasn’t wanting to be part of the family dinner, he was thinking about doing the favor I asked him to do.

  This was both nice and disappointing.

  “Okay, we’ll be doing that Saturday.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  I nodded again and told him, “Tina Blackstone saw me coming out of your house this morning.”

  He stared at me a second then he muttered, “Great.”

  I tilted my head to the side and asked, “Thought you didn’t care?”

  His eyes locked with mine and he said, “Don’t, but you do and that means I gotta walk over to that bitch’s house and lay it out for her. Don’t like her, don’t wanna walk over there and lay it out for her.”

  “Lay it out for her?”

  “Tell her she keeps her mouth shut or it’ll piss me off. Lay it out for her,” he explained.

  I stared at him, feeling his hard, warm chest under his tee where my hands were resting thinking that it was a miracle how he could be so detached and so involved at the same time. Protecting me and the girls in a variety of ways, taking care of us in other ways and yet, at the same time, in a weird way, holding himself apart and not really being there.

  Suddenly he asked, “Your walls thin?”

  “What?” I asked back, confused at his strange question.

  He tipped his head to the wall that connected my room to the rest of the house. “At my place, buddy, the walls are paper thin. Same here?”

  I looked over my shoulder at the wall.

  My room had been built as an extension so the side wall used to be the back wall of the house. The rest of the house the walls were paper thin. If I was in the kitchen or living room, I could hear the girls in their rooms. If I was in my room, nothing, as evidenced when Kenzie Elise rang the doorbell.

  “This is an extension,” I told him.

  “Know that, Vi,” he told me.

  “That wall is pretty solid.”

  He looked at the wall then back at me and he nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t want your girls to hear me comin’ in. Really don’t want them to hear me fuckin’ you.”

  I felt my breath catch.

  Then I whispered, “What?”

  “He’s playin’ his games with you, first, you aren’t gonna wanna leave your girls here alone, second, I don’t want them here alone. So, I gotta come to you.”

  And there it was again, detached but involved.

  A miracle.

  “Joe –”

  “What time do they go to sleep?”

  “Joe –”

  His loose arms tightened. “What time, buddy?”

  He wasn’t going to let it go so I answered, “Ten, but they aren’t out until eleven. I mean, Keira is. She likes her sleep and drops off immediately. Kate texts Dane for awhile and listens to music but she’s usually out by eleven.”

  “I’ll wait until after eleven.”
/>
  “Joe –”

  “You want me to stay away?” he asked and I didn’t, I knew I didn’t, which was totally fucked up.

  “No.”

  “You got a key to the sliding glass door?”

  “I did but I’ve lost it.”

  “Find it,” he ordered.

  “Okay,” I whispered, throwing my bid for Mother of the Year in the garbage.

  “I’ll come in, they won’t hear me. I’ll be gone before they get up. They’ll never know I’m here,” Joe assured me.

  I figured that was true. Even when I was awake, Joe could sneak up on me.

  “Okay.”

  His voice got low and tight, like he was forcing out what he was saying and I knew why when he admitted, “Don’t like that shit, Vi. Us next door sleepin’, some fuckwad comin’ to your house while the girls are here, droppin’ off gifts.”

  Shit, that was a lot more involved than it was detached.

  Why did he constantly give me mixed signals? It was driving me up the freaking wall.

  “I don’t either,” I agreed.

  “So, we do our thing here.”

  “Okay.”

  He looked at the door. “How you gonna play it with the girls?”

  I took in a deep breath then I let it out. “Don’t know yet. I need to think about it.”

  He nodded, telling me he’d keep it quiet then he said, “Pancakes.”

  “Yeah.”

  He let me go, took my hand and walked me out of my room.

  * * * * *

  I sat in my car, doors locked like Joe ordered me to keep them and I stared at Bobbie’s Garden Center.

  I was early for work and I had a lot on my mind, a lot I needed to get sorted before I clocked in.

  Earlier, Joe and I had left my room only to smell bacon cooking.

  The smell hit me; it was an emotional hit, instant and hard.

  Since Tim died, the girls and I had pancakes, not bacon, the pancakes enough to fill us up.

  On pancake Sunday when Tim was alive, we had bacon because Tim liked bacon and pancakes weren’t enough to fill him up.

  The girls had made bacon for Joe.

  Me having a conversation with Joe in my bedroom was not normal, in fact, it’d never happened but the girls didn’t comment. They didn’t ask questions. They just threw us looks, waiting for me or Joe to share. We didn’t and, surprisingly, they let it go.

 

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