Big Mountain Daddy_A Secret Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  And maybe he can be a part of my life, too, if he wants.

  “I’m going to be there,” he says more softly. “I mean it.”

  “You’re going to come back to the world?” I ask him.

  He hesitates. I can see that he’s still at war with himself, but it’s starting to slip, weaken, break down. “Maybe,” he says softly.

  “You can’t take care of us from this hole,” I say. “It’s a nice hole, but it’s still just a hole in the mountain. You’re just out here, waiting to die, punishing yourself… for what? You didn’t kill those people.”

  “Mia,” he says. “Please. I know I didn’t. But it was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t. Just stop. People make mistakes.” I reach out and take his hand. “Come rejoin the world.”

  He smiles a little bit. “I guess having a baby is as good a reason as any.”

  I nod and grin. “Better than most, really.”

  He sighs. “I wish you had told me sooner.”

  “I know. I should have.”

  “It’s okay, though. I’m glad you finally told me.” He squeezes my hand. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to get back from this.”

  “I know we are.”

  He smiles at me and I smile back, and I feel so good it’s almost impossible to explain.

  And just as he moves toward me, I think to kiss me again, there’s a sound. It’s loud and sharp, and Jones perks up immediately.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  Ethan pulls back, closing in on himself. “Stay here.” He gets up from his seat.

  “Ethan, wait. What was that?”

  He walks quickly back toward the laundry room, back toward where he keeps the gun.

  I get up to follow him, but there’s that noise again, this time loud and clear: a woman screaming in anger and pain.

  And it’s coming from just outside.

  20

  Ethan

  I grab my gun, throw on my coat and boots, and head outside. Mia follows me to the door, but she stops as I glare at her. “Stay inside,” I say sharply.

  I turn off the alarm, open the door, and turn the alarm back on. I shut the door behind me. She’ll be safe, or at least we’ll hear it if someone tries to get inside while I’m out here.

  Two screams. I’m sure of it. They were screams of anger, maybe of pain, and they were coming from near the generator. As I walk back there, the sun sinking down behind the trees, I suddenly wish that I had brought Jones with me. But I’d hate for something bad to happen to him.

  I keep thinking about what Mia said to me just a minute ago. I keep thinking about the baby growing inside of her, our baby, my child. I can feel myself getting pulled back into the world, all because of her. She’s waking me up to the world again and it feels good, even if it does hurt a little bit, too.

  I move through the snow slowly. I come around the side of the house, and I stop dead in my tracks. Up ahead, two figures are fighting over near the generator shed. I can barely make them out, though. The glare of the setting sun is blinding me.

  The first figure is smaller and on the ground. The second figure is big, as big as a bear. It has to be a man, because I doubt there’s even been a woman so enormous before. He has the smaller figure pinned and they’re wrestling with something between them.

  “Hey!” I shout, moving closer.

  The big man looks over toward me. The figure on the ground screams again, and I realize that it’s a scream of anger as she shoves the guy away, kicking at him. He stumbles back, hesitates, and then runs toward the trees.

  “Ethan!” the figure on the ground shouts.

  I don’t know what comes over me. I think about Mia, and the baby, and I know that I’ll do anything to protect them and to make up for all the mistakes I’ve made before. I put my rifle on my shoulder and sight down the barrel, aiming for the figure that’s running fast toward the trees.

  I get off one shot before he disappears. I can’t tell if I hit him or not, but he does grunt and stumble. He doesn’t stop and he doesn’t go down, though.

  He steps through the tree line and keeps going, disappearing from sight.

  I keep my gun ready as I walk fast over toward the other figure.

  “You let him get away,” she says, and I realize with a start that it’s fucking Shelly staring up at me.

  “Shelly?” I say, eyes wide. “What the fuck?”

  “God damn it,” she grunts, slowly getting up. “Do you have any clue who that was?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I don’t know what’s going on, and I feel like I’m hallucinating or something.

  Shelly looks unsteady. “Get me inside,” she says. “The bastard cut me up good.”

  I blink and stare at her. She stares back, and I’m still pointing my gun at her.

  “Well, put that fucking gun down and take me inside,” she snaps at me.

  That brings me out of it. I shoulder my rifle and put her arms around me as I pull her back to the house. I notice some bleeding cuts on her body, and her face is tight with pain.

  We get her inside. I disable the alarm then turn it back on. Mia hovers nearby, eyes wide.

  “Shelly?” she says.

  Shelly grunts in return as she stumbles into the kitchen. She’s wearing a padded black jacket and black warm pants. She takes off the jacket. And the black shirt underneath, prodding at the wounds on her side.

  “Not too deep,” she says, sounding relieved. “They fucking sting like hell, though.”

  “What’s going on?” Mia demands.

  “I have no clue,” I admit. “I just found her out there like this, fighting with…”

  “With the fucking bastard that wants to kill you two, that’s who,” Shelly snaps. She puts a rag on her wound. “You got anything for this cut?”

  I look at Mia. “First aid kit in my bathroom upstairs. Under the sink, all the way in the back.”

  She nods and heads off.

  Shelly stares at me once Mia’s gone. “Did you tell her?” she snaps.

  “Tell her what?” I feel like I’m missing an important piece of the puzzle.

  “Why you’re hiding out here.”

  I blink. “How do you know?”

  She barks a little laugh. “You think it’s a coincidence that we became friends, comrade?” Suddenly, her accent switches from a nondescript American one, to something deep and Russian. “I’ve been watching very closely, Ethan, keeping tabs for my employers.”

  “You’re…” I stare at her, eyes wide, ready to panic. “You work for them?”

  “Da,” she says. “I used to, at least.” She shakes her head. “Fucking bastards.”

  I stare at her and I feel like my whole world comes crashing down around me.

  21

  Mia

  Shelly cringes as I wash out her wound with saline solution. I reach for the hydrogen peroxide, but she waves me away.

  “I don’t need that shit,” she grunts. “More likely to hurt me than anything else.”

  I frown at her, but I don’t argue. She takes the first aid kit from my hands and starts to bandage up her wounds. None of them are particularly deep, though I think one might need stitches if it doesn’t close up on its own soon. She’s not in any danger, at least not immediate danger.

  “Fucking broken ribs,” she grunts, adjusting herself.

  Ethan stands near the door of the bathroom, arms crossed. Jones paces around in the living room, clearly on edge, just like the rest of us.

  I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but clearly Shelly isn’t who she says she is.

  “Can someone fill me in?” I ask Ethan.

  He shakes his head. “Look at her.”

  I sigh, exasperated. “Why did I hear a gunshot?”

  “Your boyfriend here tried to kill the Bear,” Shelly says, and cackles. “I think he winged him, which is good for us.”

  “You got attacked by a bear?”

  She cackles again. “No,
idiot, ‘The Bear.’ He’s a Russian assassin my former employers sent to finish off Ethan when I refused.”

  My eyes go wide and I look back at Ethan. He just shrugs a little bit.

  “I think it’s time you told us everything, Shelly,” Ethan says. “Or is that even your real name?”

  “Real name?” She scoffs, a little rueful. “I haven’t used my real name since I was a kid. Keep calling me Shelly, it’s easier that way.”

  “Okay, fine. What the hell is going on?” he presses.

  She sighs, leaning back against the toilet. “How much does the girl know?” she asks him.

  “I know everything,” I say. “At least from his end.”

  She grins at Ethan. “You told her, huh?”

  “Yeah, I told her.”

  “Didn’t think you would, good for you, but I guess they were justified in sending the Bear after you.”

  “I’m guessing that’s the guy I shot at,” Ethan says.

  Shelly nods and winces. “He’s been messing with you ever since the storm. I’ve been keeping him at bay, but, well, he’s better than I am, to be totally frank. If you hadn’t shown up and shot when you did, I’d be dead.”

  Ethan gives her a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

  Shelly barks a laugh. “That doesn’t begin to make us even, idiot,” she says. “I’ve been watching you since you came out here.”

  “I thought you’ve been living here for years,” he says.

  “Lies.” She dismisses him with a wave of her hand. “Carefully orchestrated to make you believe that. I’m very, very good at that.”

  He sighs. “Okay. What’s the truth, then?”

  She adjusts herself a second then gestures for me. “Come here, girl, help me out to the fire.”

  I glance at Ethan before obeying. She stands up with some effort, and I help support her until she gets to the living room. She sits down in front of the fire with a little smile on her face.

  Ethan paces angrily. I can tell he’s fuming right now. I look at Shelly and I smile. “Good?” I ask.

  “Good,” she says. “Take a seat.” She looks over at Ethan. “You too, idiot boy. Sit down. It’s story time.”

  Ethan hesitates before walking over to the couch. He sits heavily, glaring at Shelly as I join him.

  She looks up at us, and suddenly looks both ten years older and younger simultaneously, which is almost disorienting. She smiles at us and lets out a breath.

  “I was an agent for the KGB back in the eighties,” she says slowly. “Cold war shit, you know. I was sent here toward the end, assigned to assassinate certain targets, and I performed my duties with relish. I really hated the West, back then.”

  “What’s this have to do with anything?” Ethan asks suddenly.

  “Listen,” she snaps, winces, and calms herself. “After the Soviet Union fell, I was marooned here. My handlers tried recalling me, but I had fallen in love with a man. It’s a stupid story, old as time.” She shakes her head, a mean little smile on her face.

  “Anyway, he’s dead now. After he passed, I needed work, so I got in touch with some old contacts, who put me in touch with the men that really, really don’t like you, Ethan. I’ve been doing jobs for them, small jobs here and there over the years. When their bomb failed to kill you, they sent me to finish the job.

  “But instead of giving me the order to strike, they decided to let you live. I think it’s because you sequestered yourself out here. Hiding away from the world probably saved your life. So I was assigned to stay close to you, to watch over you, and to kill you if they ever got a whiff of you returning to yourself.”

  She watches Ethan for a second and lets out a breath. “I’m tired,” she says softly. “Fucking tired of killing and taking orders. When the call came to finish you off, I just… didn’t feel like it. I started to like you, for whatever reason,” she says, shaking her head, smiling to herself. “They called because you went to talk to a journalist. I think they panicked, afraid you were telling their story, and they wanted you eliminated. I stalled as long as I could, but I guess they got wind of Mia coming out here, and well… they sent someone else. Clearly, they know I’m done taking orders.”

  She goes silent then, staring out the window, lost in thought. I watch her, not really sure what the hell to make of her story.

  It’s all so insane. Ex-Soviet spies, assassins, bombs, death, destruction. I didn’t know this was the secret that Ethan was hiding, but I’m not sure he even knew it himself.

  Finally, Ethan breaks the silence. “Thanks for not killing me, Shelly,” he says.

  She grins at him. “You’re welcome, kid,” she says. “For what it’s worth, there’s nothing you could have done.”

  He sits back. “About what?” he asks softly.

  “The bomb, everything. They wouldn’t have let you go no matter what you did, not after they got their hooks in you. That’s how they operate. They suck people dry then they discard their empty, useless husks. People like me are their cleanup crew.”

  I can feel him tense beside me. “What do we do?” I ask her.

  Shelly shakes her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

  We lapse into silence again. I wish I could understand what Ethan’s thinking right now. This has to be so much for him. I mean, it’s so much for me to comprehend, but it gives me a better picture of him.

  He had no choice. Shelly said it herself. He got unlucky, made a stupid mistake when he was younger, and they got him. Now he’s trying to get away from them, which is probably more than most people can do, but they’re coming after him no matter what.

  “Why did you protect me?” Ethan finally asks her.

  “It wasn’t about you, not really,” she says. “I’m old, Ethan. I’ve killed enough people, lived enough lives, that I’m finished with it all. If we survive this, I’m doing to disappear somewhere and live quietly until I’m finally done.”

  Ethan sighs and looks at me. He takes my hand and squeezes it. “What do you think?” he asks me softly.

  “I believe her,” I say.

  “Shit,” Ethan answers.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That means this isn’t a dream.”

  I laugh softly and Shelly grins. She adjusts herself, wincing.

  “Okay,” Ethan says finally. “So there’s a psychopath assassin outside the house, trying to kill me. Shelly, you’re an ex-Soviet spy, and you’re wounded. And Mia’s pregnant.” He takes a breath and lets it out. “Seems simple to me.”

  Shelly cackles. “She’s pregnant? That explains a lot.” She winks at me.

  I blush, although I don’t know why. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “I didn’t think it was for a story,” she says. “He’s not that interesting.”

  “Sure, I am,” Ethan says. He glances over at the window. “Should we cover those with something?”

  Shelly’s gaze follows his eyes. “No, actually,” she says. “The Bear kills his targets with his hands. It’s part of his, I don’t know, fucking ritual or whatever it is. Personally, I think that makes him unstable, but he’s effective, so I guess our employers keep him around.”

  “Fuck,” I say softly. “How do we get him to stop?”

  “We don’t,” Shelly says. “We fucking run. Rich boy over here buys us all new identities. And then we disappear into Europe, or South America, or wherever the fuck you want to go.”

  “Won’t he follow?” Ethan asks.

  “Maybe,” Shelly admits. “Depends how well you disappear.”

  “I don’t want to disappear at all,” I say.

  “Yeah, well, you also don’t want to get murdered by that fucking asshole.” Shelly sighs. “I know this is a lot to digest.”

  “We’ll do what we have to do,” Ethan says, and I catch something in his expression.

  It’s resolve. Shelly seems to notice it too, and she grins. “There you are,” she says softly. “That’s the man I’ve been waiting for.”

&nb
sp; He glances at her then stands up. “We’re making a run for it,” he says finally. “I have two snowmobiles and they’re ready to go. We’ll take them to your place, Shelly, resupply and refuel, then head into town. From there, we’ll get far away from the fucking Bear.”

  Shelly grunts. “Not a bad plan. But I’m not going anywhere right now.”

  He stops and looks at her. “Right. Okay. Tomorrow morning then.”

  “How locked down is this place?” she asks.

  “Tight,” he says.

  “You sure?” She raises an eyebrow.

  “State-of-the-art security system that I’ve never used until now.”

  She laughs and coughs a little. “Okay then. Sounds like a plan, dear leader.”

  Ethan nods and heads off into the kitchen. I hesitate before following him.

  He gets out a glass and the whisky and pours himself a drink. I get close and wrap my arms around his waist. He hugs me close with one hand, sips his whisky with the other.

  “Can we trust her?” I ask softly.

  “We have no other choice,” he answers.

  “She could be lying, just to get close to you.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt she would’ve taken all those wounds if that were the case.”

  “Yeah,” I say softly. “Fuck, Ethan.”

  “I know.” He puts his glass down and turns to me. “I’m so fucking sorry you got thrown into this mess.”

  I shake my head quickly. “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault,” he says, his eyes hard. “But I’m not going to let you get hurt. Do you hear me? I’m not fighting just for myself anymore. I’m fighting for you and our baby.”

  He puts a hand on my stomach and a warmth spreads through my body.

  I should hate him, or at least be afraid of him, but I can’t help myself. He wants to protect me and the baby, and that means he wants to bring us into his life. It’s all I really want, even if he’s being hunted by crazy assassins.

  Despite myself, I believe in him. He seems more alive and awake right now than he has since I first met him. It’s like a fire was lit in his eyes, and he’s determined and angry, and I think I like it.