by Brynne Asher
“Fair enough. I won’t do it again.” I take a deep breath and sigh. “I’ll meet you in bed. You won’t even know I’m gone.”
I lean down to kiss her and she holds me tight, deepening my kiss. Her hidden desperation is killing me.
“Baby. I gotta go. Crew and Grady are waiting on me.”
She lets me go faster than I like, her eyes hanging on mine one last moment. Then, just like I never walked through the kitchen, she turns around and flips the water back on.
Fuck me.
Chapter 23
Get My Shit Together
Asa
“Tell me where.”
I’m on the phone with Carson and he’s got a lock on the location of the phone the pictures were sent from. We should be able to find it as long as he doesn’t take me into a crowded bar or amusement park. If that’s the case, I’m screwed. I’m counting on that phone to lead me to who’s been threatening Emma. They’re going to learn they fucked with the wrong man’s daughter.
Seeing as we’re in a Manassas neighborhood in the middle of the night, we should be able to find it.
“I’m tracking you,” Carson says. “Go north. About a block up.”
I look to Crew and Grady and give them a chin lift to follow. We move to the corner, I don’t see any life.
“It’s deserted—just houses.”
“Keep moving. I’ll tell you when you’re close.”
We walk quickly down the dark street. More than half the streetlights are out. The houses are cookie cutter and decades old. A lone dog barks as we pass, cutting through the eerie quiet, and Carson keeps directing us. “Two-hundred feet on your right.”
We cross the street and Grady sighs. “Dammit. I guess being out in the open at one in the morning would be too much to ask for.”
The house is dark except for a dim light coming from somewhere deep inside.
“You want to sit on it for an hour or two? Wait to see if there’s any activity?” Crew asks as he surveys the area.
Two cars are parked on the street and there’s a thin curtain drawn in the single front window. I look up and down the row of houses—we’re tucked in the shadows. I’m not worried about anyone seeing us.
“Look.” Grady’s voice is low.
When I glance back to the house, there’s movement near the front window and so far, we’ve only seen two bodies.
“You call it.” Crew nods to me. “We’ll back you up.”
I look to Grady and raise an eyebrow to see if he’s in.
He shrugs and shakes his head. “Been there, done that. I’m only in if you don’t make a dumbass call.”
I update Carson who’s still on the line and ask, “You got anything more for me?”
“The phone I tracked is a prepaid. No surprise there,” he adds. “All identifying information for the device is in the email I sent you.”
“I’ll let you know what happens,” I say and disconnect, looking back to Grady and Crew. “We split up. You two stick together on one side of the house, I’ll take the other. We’ll wait it out at least an hour. If we get lucky, they’ll leave. If not, as much as I don’t want to have to explain breaking and entering, we’ll kick the door.”
We move to our spots just in time. There’s banging coming from the front and I pause while voices fill the quiet, night air. The door slams and I wait while they make their way down the narrow, cracked driveway. They’re not small—one has seen too many Big Mac’s and the other’s a little above average build.
The one farthest from me puts a cigarette to his lips, cupping his hand around his lighter as he walks and I take the opening. As I shift silently, Crew and Grady materialize at the moment I make my move.
I grab one of them by the wrist and back of his shirt and have him face down in no time. Crew does the same to the guy with the cigarette, and I hear him complain as he burned himself right before he thuds to the grass. I cuff the big guy and after zip tying his feet, I keep my weight on his lower back and pat him down.
I find a switchblade, phone, and wallet. I toss them to Grady, who starts weeding through it. Crew finds a handgun, ID, and phone.
“Which one of you sent pictures to a young girl through Instagram today?” I demand.
“Who the fuck’re you?” Crew’s guy sneers, his face pressed into the grass.
I put more weight into the big guy’s shoulder blades with my boots, making him groan. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grunts.
“I don’t get it,” Grady pipes in casually as he takes pictures of their DLs. “It takes a chicken-shit excuse of a man to send warnings to little girls through Instagram. What are you, a thirteen-year-old middle-school bully? Like we can’t track you.”
Fucking Grady. Always a wiseass.
“Who’re you?” Crew’s guy grumbles.
Crew ignores him. “What do you know about an accident where the two kids were killed out in the Plains a few months back?”
The one groans, when Crew presses into him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Check which phone it was,” I say to Grady.
“What’s your password, asswipe?” Grady asks the guy under my foot.
“Fuck you,” he responds.
I lean over to put pressure on the jugular at his collarbone. He screams and starts to writhe under my foot, but finally gives up the code. Pressure points almost every time.
Grady starts to flip through the screens until a sly smile creeps over his face. “Bingo—it’s your guy. The IMEIs match.”
Finally catching a break, I should be elated finding the asshole who’s been fucking with my daughter all this time, but instead, I feel like I’m gonna lose it.
I stand up and put a boot in his side. “So not only are you suspected of murder, but now we’ve got you for harassment of a minor.” He rolls to his side and tries to curl into himself but I pull back and give him one more right in the gut. “Were you the ones fucking around with that car in the high school parking lot before those kids died?”
I’m about to lean down to pull his head back to go at his fucking face, when I’m strong-armed by Grady.
He’s got me from behind, yanking me backwards. “Enough. You want to end up in jail over this shit?”
I’m breathing hard, trying not to think about this guy scaring my daughter for months and recruiting others to do the same.
I look over at Crew and he’s got his phone to his ear. He’s giving our location, calling the police to come get these two. I’ve never wanted to put a bullet through someone’s head as much as I do right now.
No sooner does Crew slide his phone back into his pocket, does a car come around the corner. A blue 300, the same one from the surveillance video that drove by my house when it was shot to shit. It’s the exact car—down to the dents and tinting. I’d know it anywhere, I’ve studied that fucking video a million times.
I shrug Grady off and all three of us leave the guys tied and bound, lying on the ground like roped calves.
The car slows and when they get out, their friends on the ground yell for help.
“Jules, get ‘em!”
“They fucking got us handcuffed and the police are on their way!”
Some might think drive-by shooters would run when they were told the police were coming, but not these dumbshits. They charge, but we’re ready.
There’s two of them and three of us. I let one of them come at me. At just the right moment, I step forward, grab him by the neck, and twist. I almost have him on the ground when he growls and his arm darts out. I catch a glimpse of something shiny just before I feel it slice through my shirt.
Fuck.
The next thing I hear is a gunshot, and the body I was sparring with falls limp from my grasp and when I look down, all I see is red.
*****
Keelie
I jerk when my phone rings. It’s just after two in the morning. I’ve been tossing and turning since co
ming to bed a couple hours ago.
Waiting for Asa, I knew I’d never be able to find sleep. I grab my phone and my fingers fumble to answer as I push up to a sitting position. I don’t know if my heart’s racing or sinking when I see who it is, because there’s no good reason for him to be calling me at this time of night. I swipe my hair out of my face as I answer, “Crew?”
“Keelie.”
I put my feet to the floor and stand, feeling the need to prepare for something. “What’s wrong?”
“Well,” I hear the phone shuffle and he lowers his voice. “Asa wanted me to call and let you know he won’t be home for a bit.”
“Why?” My voice elevates into a high-pitched panic. “Why can’t he call and tell me this?”
“They’re taking him upstairs and he can’t bring his phone. He’s going to need stitches—I don’t know how long it’s gonna take. Looks like you both are going to have matching scars.”
I have to make myself take a breath. “Wait. They’re taking him where?”
“He got it deep. They’re gonna scan him to make sure nothing important was hit and it’s clean. Really, it’s no big deal.”
I exhale, looking at my bed that Asa has warmed for weeks now. With everything else going on, I haven’t even kept track of how long it’s been.
Staring at his pillow, I know if I planted my face in it, I’d instantly be engulfed with his scent. “Why does he need stitches?”
“He caught a knife.” Crew states this as if it was as mundane as Asa being bitten by a mosquito.
“A knife?”
“Sorry I woke you, but I know if it were Addison, she’d want a call. Go back to sleep and he’ll be home soon.”
“Where are you?” I move to my closet to pull out some leggings and a sweatshirt.
“Fair Oaks at the ER. With no traffic, my guess is he’ll be home in an hour and a—”
“I’m coming,” I blurt, balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder as I pull up my leggings. I slip on my Birks and add, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“No.” I hear a frown in his directive which doesn’t mean shit, because I’m coming anyway. Crew cannot tell me what to do. “Asa wants you home.”
I stop and ask, “Did you find who you were looking for tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’m coming. And if I get stopped for speeding, I’m throwing your name out there, Crew. I hope it means something between here and Fairfax.”
“Stay put, Keelie,” he warns again. “I mean it.”
“I’m sure you do,” I mutter and hang up on him.
I pull my sweatshirt over my head as I run down my stairs. I turn off my OTT security system as I’m grabbing my purse and the fob to my new loaner. I’m still arguing with my insurance over paying for my shot-up van. It seems drive-by shootings are somewhat of a gray area when it comes to car insurance.
I pull out of my garage and poor Ozzie is still here and as alert as ever. He gets out of his car and comes jogging over to the driver’s side motioning for me to roll down my window.
“Where are you going?” he demands.
I know I don’t owe him an explanation, but I do feel bad he’s been sitting out here forever. “To the hospital.”
“Asa told me to make sure everyone stayed put.”
My cell rings and when I see it’s Crew, I send it straight to voicemail. “I’ll take that up with Asa myself. I’m leaving, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stay here with the kids. Mine are fine with Levi and Emma, plus they sleep like the dead, but it will be nice knowing you’re here.”
He frowns, working his jaw, trying to decide what to do.
“You can try to stop me, but I’m already saddled up in this tank. I’ll drive right over you if I have to. Children come first, Ozzie. I can handle Asa, but if you leave our kids, I’m sure he won’t be happy.”
He shakes his head and steps back on a huff. “I’m gonna catch shit for this.”
My phone rings again and this time it’s Asa. I ignore it, put the monstrous Infiniti into drive and look to Ozzie one last time. “That’ll make two of us, I’m sure.”
*****
Asa
“I want to see my husband.”
I look away from the resident stitching me up. The guy got me across the ribs. When EMS saw how dirty the knife was, they reported it to the doc and I ended up getting scanned to make sure there was nothing in the wound.
“Ma’am,” I hear a frustrated voice mingling with Keelie’s. “If you’d let me see what room he’s in, I can help you. But you can’t just go looking in every room. And what was your name again? I need to see some ID.”
“I know he’s here, I don’t have time for ID.” Her voice gets closer. “His name is Asa Hollingswor—”
She stops abruptly in the doorway—her eyes go straight to my abdomen where the young doctor is sewing away. I see her labored breaths, and if I didn’t know how strong she was, I’d think she might pass out.
“Sir.” The attendant exhales, probably exhausted from chasing Keelie up and down the halls. “Your wife?”
Keelie’s eyes dart to mine and she bites her lip.
I hold my hand out for her. “She was told to stay home.”
The attendant shakes her head and leaves. Keelie—who seemed hell-bent to get to me—hesitates.
“Baby,” I soften my voice. “Come here.”
She looks back to my wound before walking slowly to my side. I reach out for her and when she finally gets to me, her hand takes mine in a death grip.
I pull her to sit on a rolling chair next to me and her blue eyes slide to my face when she whispers, “What happened?”
“Nothing out of our control. This isn’t a big deal.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing. That looks like … something.” Her eyes drop back to my wound.
I put my hand on her chin to have her look at me. This is why I wanted her to stay home. “It’ll heal in no time. I even had it deadened. I’m not a badass like you.”
This doesn’t make her smile. Her face cracks and she leans forward, resting her forehead on mine. I haven’t seen her like this often, but the steel of my woman has disintegrated. Right now, she’s transparent—raw, emotional, vulnerable.
I put my lips to her ear, holding her close. “He’s almost done and I’ll take you home.”
What I don’t tell her is I’ve had worse. Much worse. This might’ve been a little deep, but a knife is nothing. Only an asshat brings a knife to a gunfight—Grady proved that when he pulled his trigger and took him out.
She doesn’t need to know that either.
“You’re all done.” I feel a tug and look down. The doc has snipped the thread and is taping a large piece of gauze over it. “Showers only, no swimming or baths. I’ll give you some ointment to keep it from drying out. Your scripts for the antibiotic and pain killers will be with your paperwork, and you’ve already had your tetanus. You’re good to go.”
We all stand and I pull on an extra shirt Grady had in his car. I grab my paperwork in one hand and hers in my other. Leaning in to kiss her, I say, “Let’s go home.”
She nods, not offering a word. You’d think her donkey died by the look on her face.
“Baby.” I give her hand a squeeze. “I promise, I’m fine.”
I lead her to the ER waiting room where we say goodbye to Crew and Grady. I’m ready for this day to be over.
*****
Keelie
Once he took a pain pill, he was dead asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.
I haven’t even closed my eyes, though. I can’t stop staring at him. I’ve gotten used to him next to me, and if I allow myself to admit it, I sleep better. But then again, he makes everything better.
And that’s what scares me.
I roll toward my nightstand to flip my alarm off so he can sleep. Today is going to be hard with so little rest, but I can’t take a day off. I mean, I can, but I don’t dare. I need to g
o to work so I don’t overthink, rationalize, or become weak.
I can’t afford to be weak any longer.
Without looking back at him sleeping in my bed, I slip into the bathroom to shower. It’s time to get my shit together.
Chapter 24
Time
Keelie
“Where’re your shoes?” I yell to Saylor as I make my coffee to-go.
“I can only find one,” she whines from the mudroom. “It was here yesterday. Or maybe the other Sunday. I dunno.”
“Find another pair,” I call from the kitchen and look at Knox. “Hurry and eat your cereal. We’re going to be late.”
“We’re not late,” he chomps over his words with his mouth full. “We’re early. Where’s Asa? He always takes us.”
“I’m taking you.” I have to stop and catch my breath. They don’t deserve the edge of my tongue because I was up all night. Nor do they need to know Asa is still sleeping off a pain pill because he was almost sliced in two by the man who tried to kill Emma and me in a drive-by shooting. I close my eyes, take a breath, and try to start over. “I’m taking you and I’d like to leave a little early. I have some things I need to catch up on.”
“Can I wear my princess shoes?” Saylor calls.
“Where’re Levi and Emma?” Knox asks.
“No,” I yell. “You cannot wear your princess shoes to school.” I turn back to Knox and lie. “They’re not feeling well. I think a bug is going around.”
“I can’t find the other one!”
“They’re both sick at the same time?”
“Wear your rain boots,” I yell before adding, “Yes. They’re both sick.”
Saylor’s voice takes that tone—the one where I know a meltdown is imminent. “But it’s miss-match socks day. If I wear my rain boots, no one will see my socks. And it’s not even raining. Katie McMeanie will make fun of me for wearing rain boots when it’s sunny. She’s such a meanie.”
