Picture this (Birds of a Feather Book 3)

by Lena North

“Sometimes the beauty of you just blows me away, Mary,” he murmured and put his hand, and mine, on his thigh. “I’m pretty easy,” he said after a while. “I like my job. Like my bird. Get a few kicks out of the shit I do with Hawker and the others…”

  I disagreed with what his statement that he was easy, but waited silently for him to continue.

  “What I wanted the most, and always thought I’d have, was a family. I’m not dreaming of the things Kit wants, baby.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “A wife, a couple of kids. A dog or two. That’s about it,” he said and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road in front of us.

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” I asked because he seemed tense.

  “Just saying,” he muttered, and added almost defiantly, “I’m not poor,”

  I nodded because I knew that, but he went on immediately.

  “But I’m not rich either.”

  “Okay.”

  “Not rich like Wilder,” he added.

  “Jinx has more money than Wilder,” I said calmly.

  “Huh?”

  “Just saying, Mill,” I echoed his earlier words. “I have money to pay the remaining rent and a few bills that I expect to find in the mail. After that, I’ll have a few hundred left in my bank account.”

  “Oh, honey,” he murmured.

  “I usually have more of a buffer, but I haven’t worked since that day they took me away, and I still had to pay for the apartment.” I turned to look at him, and he glanced at me when I squeezed his leg gently. “I will let you pay for shit, Miller, but I have some pride, and I can’t let you pay for everything. We’ll have to find a way to let me hold on to that pride.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, and of course we will. I know you don’t want any of it, but you need to know that there will be money from the Norton-fund for the child,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, although the corners of his eyes crinkled a little when he added, “If you were married to me, what we get would double.”

  “Miller…”

  “Just saying,” he muttered, though I heard laughter in his voice.

  “Marriage is mandatory to get a share of the funds?” I asked

  “Yup. Archaic, but that’s how it’s set up, and no one has asked to have it changed,” he said, and added quickly, “And no. I will damned well not be the first to ask for that change.”

  I started laughing at the look on his face and squeezed his leg again.

  “Wouldn’t dream of asking you to do that,” I said.

  We drove on in silence, and I started to make plans, hoping that I’d make enough money off my drawing skills to give me a little bit of independence. Then we drove up in front of the worn-down block I had lived in and walked into my home.

  We were about half way through it all when there suddenly was a loud knock on the door.

  “Yoo-hoo!”

  I pulled my head out of the cardboard box I’d been packing books in, and my eyes met Miller’s.

  “You told Bo the address?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he said, but grinned crookedly. “Might have told my brother, though.”

  I speared him with a glare over my shoulder as I walked out of the small bedroom that I used as my working space, and he chuckled.

  “Mary, my lovely!” Bo exclaimed, and walked toward me with his arms stretched out.

  Two of the young men that I’d met that evening Kit and I had been to the Art Museum followed him, mimicking both his words and gestures.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked into the group hug I found myself enveloped in.

  “I was going to let you do this on your own, but then I totally stumbled over your address, and I had to come!” Bo said, and the other two men nodded decisively.

  “What?”

  “I grew up here!” Bo said.

  “Here?” I echoed stupidly and looked around in the condo as if Bo’s parents would suddenly materialize out of thin air.

  “I’m a Southie boy, born and raised,” he said with a grin. “Lived two blocks from here until I finally made enough money to get away.”

  I stared at him.

  “Mary,” he suddenly said quietly and without his usual flamboyance. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about living here. We do what we have to do to survive, my lovely.”

  Then he turned around and clapped his hands.

  “Get to work boys! I’m not your boss for the next few hours. Today you work for Mary.”

  Packing went quickly after that, and it would have been even quicker if Bo hadn’t started squealing every time he caught sight of something I’d painted. When the three of them heard that I’d painted the flowers on the pillowcases decorating my couch I thought they would have a collective stroke. Their phones were yet again whipped out, and pictures were taken from all angles

  When we got to my clothes, I tried to get them to go and pick up lunch or start in the kitchen, but they were impossible to deter.

  “I don’t want you to rifle around in my underwear,” I murmured finally.

  They froze and stared at me.

  “You do realize that we’re gay, right?” one of my assistants for the day asked finally.

  “Ye –”

  “Of course she does,” Bo snorted, and turned to me. “Don’t worry sweetie, we won’t steal any of it.”

  I blinked.

  “You’re such a tiny little thing,” he continued, “It wouldn’t fit anyway.”

  I blinked again, trying desperately to not get an image of Bo in the kind of underwear I usually wore.

  “Jinx…” he said and grinned widely. “Well, that’s another story. She’s bootylicious enough so her stuff I’d totally nick if I had a chance.”

  “Uh,” I said, thinking that I’d have to warn Jinx.

  “She likes black lace, I hear,” Bo said, and added sassily, “Carson does too.”

  I stared at him, wondering if Carson really was wearing underwear made from black lace, or if he simply liked the look of them, which meant Bo was wearing them. They snickered, but I just shook my head slightly because I didn’t want to know either way.

  In the end, we could fit most of what I wanted to keep into Miller's car. Bo took a few boxes and said he’d put it in one of their barns, and then he ordered the men I assumed was his assistants, or secretaries, or just minions in general, to take everything else away.

  “Throw it in a dumpster, burn it up, I don’t care,” he snapped when they asked what to do with it.

  “Donate it,” I said calmly. “There’s a thrift shop down the road, they’ll either take it or tell you what to do with it.”

  They thanked me profusely, and I held up a finger. Then I walked over to the truck and brought out the two pillows they’d admired so much.

  “Thank you for the help today,” I said and handed them the pillows. “If you want these…”

  The gushing that ensued was kind of embarrassing, but also very sweet. Bo pouted and sulked because there were only two pillows, so I had to promise him I’d make new ones for him and Carson. I was laughing as we drove off, relieved to have handed in my keys, and happy that the day was over.

  On our way out of Prosper I asked Miller to drive by the house I’d spent my first ten years in, and we crept along the narrow, suburban street, lined with small, red, brick houses. I hadn’t been back since that day when I lost my family, but the few memories I had of my life there were blurry, and seeing my childhood home meant less to me than I thought it would. Then we took the route back to the highway via the swankier suburbs, and via my aunt and uncle’s street.

  Miller hit the brakes so hard I had to put a hand on the dashboard when I pointed at the huge mansion-like building my aunt and uncle lived in. We stopped right in front of the house, and he stared at it.

  “What the –” he breathed.

  “Don’t stop,” I hissed. “They might come and…”

&nb
sp; Too late.

  A woman walked out of the house, and when she saw us, she turned with a friendly smile that froze when she recognized me. Her lips tightened and then she started walking toward us.

  “Shit,” I whispered, and hoped that we would speed out of there, but Miller clearly had other ideas because he got out of the car before I could stop him.

  I opened my door and jumped down.

  “Mary,” my aunt said.

  “Aunt Michelle,” I replied calmly, although my knees were suddenly a bit wobbly.

  Miller put an arm around my waist and said not a word.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

  “No,” Miller rumbled and kept staring at the house.

  Then he turned to her, and I wasn’t looking up at him but judging by the look on her face, he was not looking amicable.

  “You handed your sister’s child off to social services,” he said quietly, and asked, “Did you sleep well that night?”

  “I did what we had to do,” she said calmly. “We were overcome with grief, and it was better for her to not be crammed up with us.”

  “Huh,” Miller said.

  “Excuse me, who are you?” my aunt asked.

  “Someone who’ll spend the rest of his life making sure that what you did is undone,” he said.

  There was a long silence, and I thought I should say something that cut through the tension.

  “Crammed up?” Miller suddenly asked hoarsely.

  “They used to live a block away from us,” I explained, glad for the opportunity to talk about something else. “They have three kids.”

  “Huh,” Miller said, and I felt his arm tighten around my waist. “When did you buy this house?” he asked.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of you busine –”

  “Mom!” a young woman called out as she rounded the house. “Hey there, who –” She stopped speaking abruptly, and her eyes widened. “You’re Mary.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “When did you buy this house?” Miller asked again, slowly and in a voice completely void of emotions.

  “What?” the young woman asked, but Miller kept his gaze firmly fixed on my aunt and kept talking.

  “They had a house. There must have been savings, pensions. Insurance. Drunk truck-driver, he must have worked for someone, so there must have been a settlement.”

  My belly clenched when I realized what he was saying, and my eyes flew to the huge mansion-looking house in front of me.

  “So, yeah. It is my business because it’s Mary’s business. When did you –”

  “Oh my God,” the young woman, who I assumed was one of my cousins, interrupted. “I was twelve. It was right after we lost them. Mom, what the hell?”

  My aunt turned, and I wondered if she would just walk away, but my cousin took a firm hold of her arm.

  “Did I grow up in a house you and Dad bought with money that belonged to Mary?” she asked.

  “Cherry…” my aunt whispered.

  “God,” my cousin said, and turned to me. “They will pay you back. I promise you that they will pay everything back to you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Was it the money?” I whispered, looking at my aunt, hoping that I finally would get some answers to why they had left me to live the life I’d ended up with.

  She swallowed and shook her head once, but if it was an answer to me or if she wanted to straighten out her thoughts, I didn’t know.

  “I think you owe your sister’s child an answer,” Miller rumbled.

  “It wasn’t the money,” she said quickly. “I lost half my soul when my sister died, and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t bear to see her eyes in your face each and every day. So I gave you up, but I went back to make sure you were okay,” she added defiantly. “I drove by the house you were in, and you sat on the porch, drawing. Your hair was in your face, but I knew it was you, and a young boy was sitting next to you. He was laughing. I knew everything was okay then.”

  I stared at her, wondering if she actually believed what she was saying.

  “And then you stole her inheritance,” Miller said calmly.

  “She was my sister,” my aunt replied. “We grew up together, lived our lives together, three houses apart. I lost something that day too. It was my inheritance too.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Miller barked. “Not in any way.”

  “He was laughing,” I mumbled, and they turned to me. “But he wasn’t laughing with me, Aunt Michelle. He was laughing at me. Then he took my pen and jammed it into my hand. I still have the scar.”

  I held my hand up and showed them the round white mark.

  “They moved me then,” I continued. “The next family was worse, and it lasted forever. They beat me so bad that I ended up in the hospital eventually, and then they moved me again. By then I was almost thirteen, and the father in the next family put his hand on my butt. I knew what he wanted, so I ran, and I lived on the streets down in Southie for over a year. Stealing, begging, doing odd jobs when I could find one.”

  She gasped, but I wasn’t done.

  “I’ve had nothing since I was ten. Nothing. I’ve worked my way through University as a waitress.” I turned to my cousin, and asked, “Bet you didn’t?”

  She looked like she was about to start crying when she shook her head, and I felt sorry for her, but my anger won.

  “I will contact my lawyer, Aunt Michelle, and he will contact you. I won’t throw you out of the house because that’s not who I am, but I want the money. You can transfer it to me in monthly payments for the next five years.”

  “We made a mistake,” she whispered.

  “No, you didn’t,” Miller stated decisively. “Forgetting to buy toilet paper, that’s a mistake. What you did was deliberate, and it was cruel, and that’s hard to excuse. Even harder to forgive.”

  My aunt gasped and was about to say something, but my cousin spoke up.

  “I’m a paralegal, tell your lawyer to contact me, and I will make sure it’s done.”

  She pulled out a business card from her purse, and my lips curved when I looked at it.

  “Good. You can expect a call from your boss.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  “My attorney is Douglas Suthermoore Senior. I believe he’s one of the owners of the law firm you work for.”

  Mr. Suthermoore was actually Wilder’s lawyer, but they didn’t need to know that I was fibbing, and the old gentleman liked me so I hoped he would be willing to help.

  “Okay,” my cousin said, and clenched her jaws. “I expect he’ll fire me.”

  “He won’t,” I said and turned to my aunt. “Not as long as the payments are in my bank account each month.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll manage. Can we –”

  “Sell the house,” Miller interrupted. “Market’s up. You don’t have the cash, sell the house, and you do. You’ll be making a nice profit on your niece I’d imagine.”

  Aunt Michelle’s face hardened, but she nodded once, pulled her arm out of her daughter’s hand and walked into the house.

  “Mary, I’m so sorry. I didn’t connect the dots, didn’t understand what they –”

  “You were twelve,” I cut her off. “Why would you? I didn’t either.”

  Our eyes held for a long time.

  “I wish things were different,” she whispered.

  “I lost everything, and for a long time I had nothing, but I have everything again, and my life is good,” I said. “I hope yours is too.”

  Then I took Miller’s hand, turned toward the car, and without a word we got in and drove off.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I muttered when we had left Prosper behind us. “Why didn’t I realize what they did?”

  “Baby, you said it yourself. You were just a grieving child. How were you supposed to know?”

  I sighed.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

&nb
sp; He made a sound of protest, but I took hold of his hand.

  “I’ll make them pay me back, out of principle. It wasn’t their money. But I wasn’t lying back there. I already have everything, so in the bigger scheme? It doesn’t matter.”

  “I love you,” he said gently, “and you’re right. Of course, it doesn’t matter…”

  He started grinning, and then he started laughing.

  “Except, I guess you’ll be able to buy a real car now.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re still nowhere near your girlfriends’ kind of rich, and it won’t be a luxury model, but yeah.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, and he laughed some more.

  I called Wilder from the car to get her lawyer’s phone number and had to explain what had happened. As expected, she lost her temper completely.

  “I will kill them,” she barked, and her voice sounded muffled suddenly. “Mac!” she called out. “I’ll be gone a few hours, have to go and kill some people.”

  I shouted her name, but she ignored me.

  “Yeah, of course I’ll be back for dinner,” she called out, and then she was back on the line. “Mary? Hey, I’m back.”

  I could hear her moving and stared blindly ahead. Was she actually going to assassinate my Aunt and Uncle?

  “Wilder, don’t,” I said weakly.

  “Gotta go,” she chirped and hung up.

  Crap.

  “I’d better call Hawk,” Miller muttered.

  As expected, Hawker lost his temper too, but Miller was better at handling his friend than I was at handling mine so, in the end, they agreed that my relatives would be allowed to live and that Hawker would call Mac and have him deal with Wilder.

  “Would she have killed them?” I asked when we’d disconnected the call.

  “No,” he said, and I exhaled. “At least, I don’t think so,” he added and I turned to stare at him. “No. Of course, she wouldn’t,” he concluded, but I wished he’d sounded a lot less skeptical.

  Chapte

  r Nineteen

  Kit

  Kit was waiting on the deck when we came home, and he looked like shit. He had a white bandage over his nose, and one of his eyes were slightly swollen. For the first time, I could see strands of gray in his hair, but when our eyes met, I didn’t feel like laughing at all. He looked so sad, and the laughing, content young man I’d dated was gone.