Fate: A Trinity Novel: Book Five

by Audrey Carlan

“Says here she was diagnosed at age fourteen with a brain tumor. The tumor was benign and stopped growing a year after she was diagnosed, but it presses on the part of her brain that deals with being able to discern reality. Apparently, the tumor ate through her paracingulate sulcus, a part of the brain that controls judgment. Fucked-up shit,” he whispers.

  I hear him tapping away and try to remain patient while I wait for him to continue.

  “Shit, dude. Says before she was diagnosed, she tried to kill her boyfriend, who she believed was cheating on her. The boyfriend’s father caught her with a knife in her hand, standing over her boyfriend’s bed after she’d broken into their house. The dad happened to hear music playing in the kid’s room and was going to turn it off before he settled in for the night. Took her down, and she was arrested. She was assessed by a pediatric psychologist and underwent more testing. That’s when they found the tumor.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, and Scooter continues to level me with more bad news.

  “Says here the boy’s family didn’t press charges, which they should’ve, because fuck!” He continues tapping on the keys. “Fucking fuck.”

  My worry ramps up a hundred notches. “Scooter. Focus. What?”

  “Shit, dude, she went on to marry a man named Jared Duncan right out of high school. And a year into the relationship, she sliced him up something horrible. Slaughtered him in his sleep. They found her rocking herself in the bathtub, covered in blood. Chick had some type of psychotic break. She was arrested, found unfit to stand trial due to insanity. Then they locked her away in a high-security mental hospital, where she didn’t speak. Meaning, she didn’t utter a word for over a year. Eventually, she started talking at some point during her five-year stay there before she escaped three years ago.”

  I breathe through the fear and swallow down the vomit pooling in the back of my throat. She’s so much more screwed up than I thought. “Does it say how she escaped?”

  A flurry of clatters come through the line as I wait.

  “Duuuuuuude. She killed two guards. One with a toothbrush that’d been filed into a sharp point. She stabbed it up through the guy’s nose right into his brain. Whoa, brutal. She offed the other one with the first guard’s gun. Scary bitch. Gives me the willies.” He makes a burr noise, like he’s cold.

  “How did she fly under the radar?”

  “Shit happened in Wyoming. In California, anyone can stay off the radar. I’ve got no employment for her under any of her legal names. Looks like she probably worked under the table until your father hired her. Looks like he didn’t do a background check on her and listed her as Misty Duncan with a false Social Security number. That’s why we couldn’t find any real information on her. Bitch stole someone’s number.”

  I grind my teeth. “Fucking hell.”

  “Dude, I gotta go. I’ve got to reach Eli or Dice. Give them a heads up on how crazy this chick is. Glad Eli got your daughter. Later.”

  “Later,” I reply, but the line is already dead.

  I sit back and pull my sleeping daughter up and over my chest so her legs are straddling my waist. She doesn’t so much as stir as I make her comfortable against my chest, where I can feel her heartbeat and hold her close. “No one is getting to you ever again, baby. It’s going to be me, you, Kathleen, and your sister or brother from here on out. I’ll not allow that woman anywhere near you.”

  With my daughter safely on my chest, grounding me, I call Kathleen and tell her what Scooter said. Once complete, I call Maria and give her a heads up about Eli and thank her. She assures me it’s all Eli’s idea, not hers, and he’s doing what he needs to do for his family.

  Family.

  There is a lot of that going around. For the first time in a long time, while I hold my daughter close and think about the woman I’m going to marry and have another child with, and all the extended members, including Kathleen’s soul sisters and their men, I’m finally content. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and nothing can take that away from me.

  Nothing.

  * * *

  A week goes by with absolutely no sight of Misty. Eli and his man Dice have scoured Nevada and have people looking in Oregon, Idaho, and Utah. Eventually, I tell Eli he needs to get home to his wife. He can’t keep looking for Misty when she’s got a shitload of cash and some type of unmarked vehicle. We all need to move on but stay vigilant. With her history, we’re hoping she disappears.

  “I don’t know, man. Not feeling calling off the hunt.”

  “Eli, you have no leads. You said it yourself, she’s smoke.”

  He makes an animalistic sound and picks up Cora, who’s steadily tapping him on the leg and reaching her arms in an up motion. “Munchkin,” he says to her while placing her on the counter in front of him. He puts something into his leather jacket pocket and then pulls out a little pink box. Seeing this huge, rough-looking guy pull out a pink anything from his jacket is shocking, never mind the fact that he leans forward with it and shows it to Cora. Eli flicks open the lid with one finger and up pops a ballerina spinning in a circle to music. “Auntie Ria bought this for you. See, she’s a dancer like her.”

  “Pwitty.” Cora looks in complete awe at the ballerina spinning.

  Eli smiles, all white teeth and happiness. He’s a lot less scary when he’s smiling.

  Cora kicks her legs and tucks the box near her chest. “Dow dow.” She wants down.

  Eli chuckles, picks her up, and puts her to the ground. He surprises me again when he holds her in front of him while he’s crouched down at her eye level. He runs his hand through her golden hair and kisses her forehead. She leans forward and gives him a slobbery cheek kiss. He doesn’t even flinch. Guy is cool as fuck.

  Once she’s free, she toddles out of the room with her new treasure, screaming, “Kiiiittttyyy,” calling for Kathleen.

  I shake my head and smile. “Thanks, man.”

  He harrumphs. “Thank Maria. She’s the one who picks out that shit.”

  “So, when are you going to uh…build your family?”

  Eli grins wickedly. “I try every night.”

  I laugh hard and lean over the counter. “Okay, let me rephrase. When’s the wife going to allow you to knock her up?”

  His shoulders slump. “Been asking that for a year. Says she’s scared she’ll lose her clients. Me, I could give a fuck. We’re not getting any younger, and I want to see a little girl with those eyes and that dark head of hair.”

  I nod. “You know Kathleen is pregnant. Gillian’s pregnant. Use that to your advantage.”

  A light shimmers in Eli’s eyes. “Fuckin’ A. Need to have a chat with my wife. I’ll keep you posted, yeah?” Eli says, walking toward the door.

  “Sounds good. Thanks, man.”

  With a lift of the hand, he gives his standard two-fingered salute. “Later.”

  Kat enters the room as the door shuts. “Eli left.” She frowns.

  “Yeah, Sweetcheeks.” I grin. “Think he’s going home to nail Maria.”

  She giggles, puts her arms around my waist, and lifts her chin toward my face. “Honey, they’re always banging.”

  I grin. “This time, I think he’s going to talk her into falling in line with her friends.” I lay a hand over her belly. It’s still flat, since she’s only just over three months, but it’s hardened in a way I know my baby is right there under my hand. Fucking bliss.

  Her eyes grow round, obviously taking in what I just said. “Eli wants kids?”

  “Yep. And I think he wants them bad. He’s good with Cora.” I kiss her neck, running my nose up the column and saturating my senses with sunshine and coconut.

  She purses her lips. “He’s good with Gigi’s twins too. They love hanging out with Uncle E.”

  I nod and continue to bathe myself in her essence until a little bundle of wild pounds against my legs. “Ice keem,” Cora says, slapping Kat’s and my legs.

  Kathleen giggles. “I made the mistake of saying I wanted ice cream and
thinking maybe we could go get some.”

  I look down at Kathleen and Cora, both in their pajamas and already settled down for the night, and glance at the clock. “Babe, it’s eight o’clock. We need to get her to bed.”

  Her shoulders fall and she frowns. “But I really wanted ice cream.” Then she rubs her stomach where our baby lies. I can see what manipulation the next six months is going to bring. I look from her hand to her face. She pouts, and I roll my eyes.

  “Fine. You two stay here. Snuggle up on the couch, and I’ll go out and get the ice cream.”

  Kathleen kisses me fast and hard and then leans over and grabs Cora’s hand to lead her to the couch. She’s gotten a lot stronger over the past three months, but she’s still not comfortable lifting Cora from the ground just yet. She can easily pull her out of her crib with one arm, but normally she leads Cora to the couch and lets her crawl into her lap. I know she’s working hard every day continuing her physical therapy. Even working on it at home with hand presses and small weights.

  Yesterday, when she was in our bedroom sitting on the edge of the bed, I saw her lift a seven-pound barbell with her injured hand. I didn’t say anything, but I witnessed the smile on her face when she gripped the bar and held it up to her chest. She’d closed her eyes and smiled the sweetest, most satisfying one I’ve seen in a long time. It was pride, and I fell in love with her all over again.

  Whistling, I grab my keys off the hook on the wall, hit the garage opener, and get into my car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KATHLEEN

  “Get up, you bitch!” An angry voice shreds into my dream of Eli and Maria playing at the park, pushing a little girl with long dark hair and icy-blue eyes on a swing set. “Get up. I don’t have a lot of time.”

  I come to with something cold and hard pressing into my temple. As I blink away sleep, I notice two things at once. Misty is standing over me, and a gun is pressed painfully against my head. As if on autopilot, I sit up. The gun follows me, but I don’t care. I look to my left, where Cora had fallen asleep. She was so snuggly and warm I nodded off holding her against my side. She’s not there now.

  “Where’s Cora?” I ask with zero concern for my own safety.

  Misty snarls. “Like you really fucking care now that you’re going to be pushing out your own Carson mini-me.”

  I’m certain my eyes go wide, because Misty keeps talking. “Yeah, I know you’re pregnant with his child. Of course you are. You couldn’t stop at stealing my man, my future husband. No, you had to steal Cora’s daddy too.” She swings the gun around before pointing it directly at my face.

  I swallow down the fear and forge ahead. “Misty, where’s Cora?”

  She snorts and runs a hand through her mangy hair. The woman is a mess. Normally, she’s clean, dressed to the nines, makeup on, and not a hair out of place. She’d always put herself together as though she needed to be perfect. Right now, that person is not here. In her place is a woman wearing dirty jeans, and her stringy blond hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in a week. She has shadows under her eyes and is at least ten pounds lighter.

  I’m aware of her mental status now, and it’s clear this woman is no longer in touch with reality, if she ever was.

  “My daughter… My daughter is fine. I put her to bed like a good mother does. Unlike you, who can’t even lift her into her crib. What do you think you’re going to do when your child comes, huh?”

  How would she know that? She must have been watching us. For how long? The thought sends a shiver of disgust through me. Still, I ignore her taunts and breathe easy for a moment, knowing Cora is safely in her crib. She can’t get out yet, so no matter what happens here tonight, she’ll be safe. Carson will get to her.

  “Uh, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I’m stalling to keep her talking. If she’s talking, she’s not shooting me.

  The phone rings and the noise makes Misty flinch. Her hand wraps tighter on the gun. I shift to the side as she shakes her head, puts one hand to her temple, and winces. The phone rings two more times, and with each ring she seems to get more agitated, bouncing from foot to foot. Her eyes are large and wild, pupils so dilated all I can see are black, empty holes of rage.

  Another ring and she pulls at her hair, opening her mouth in a silent scream when the machine picks up.

  “Kathleen, Carson told me you were home…” Chase says on the machine.

  I glance at the phone longingly, wishing I could run to it and tell him to call the cops.

  “Fucking shut up!” she screams at the phone. She points her gun at it and shoots. The gun’s blast rips through the room, and the answering machine explodes into little pieces when the bullet hits its target.

  I wrap my arms around my belly to protect my baby and try to run for it when she’s not paying attention. Cora screams from the other room.

  Misty follows me into the hallway, hot on my heels. “You get back here, you bitch! You’re fucking dead! You hear me, homewrecker? You’re dead!”

  I run as fast as I can and make it to our bedroom, where I know my cell phone is charging on the end table. I just barely grab it when I’m pulled back by my top and smashed upside the head with Misty’s gun. Blood sprays from my face as I fall to the bed and scramble across it to the other side. I lift a hand to my face and find my cheek is split open and blood is gushing out.

  Misty points the gun at me, her back facing the doorway. Cora is screaming at the top of her lungs. The situation is dire. I know she’s going to kill me and leave my dead body for Carson to find. This would utterly destroy him. I can’t have that happen. He can’t see what she’s about to do to me.

  Suddenly I come up with an idea. “Misty, I’m sorry I, uh, stole your man. He’s really not in love with me.”

  “You think?” Her hand shakes wildly as she points the gun at me.

  “Still, you don’t want him or your daughter to find me dead in your home, right?”

  Her face contorts into a menacing glare. “My home. My fucking home. The one you took away from me!” she screeches. “He was going to kick me out on the street!”

  Technically not true. He had an apartment lined up for her, but I’m not in any position to argue. I have to keep her talking, and I need her to get me out of the house and away from Cora and Carson. He’ll be home soon, and I don’t want him caught up in this. Cora needs her father.

  Our baby needs us both, a little voice deep inside my head mutters. The pang of guilt rips through me, but I have to hold on to what I can save right now. Getting away from Cora and leaving this house is priority number one. I don’t want this insane woman anywhere near Cora and Carson.

  I swallow down the bile that’s creeping up my throat. “He told me he loves you. That’s when I went after him,” I lie. “He doesn’t love me. This baby isn’t even his. I had sex with someone else.” Another lie. Whatever it takes to get this psycho to take me far away from here. “So you see, you need to just take me. Get out of here, and come back and get your daughter and man.”

  Misty’s eyes lighten, and a small smile overtakes her lips. I can tell the wheels are turning in her head. She lowers the gun, and her face softens. She’s considering my suggestion. I breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s too soon. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure enter the room on silent feet.

  Chase.

  No! I shake my head, close my eyes, and pray Chase won’t do anything stupid. I should have known better. His gaze goes to Misty’s hand holding the gun, and he walks up silently behind her.

  Please no. God, don’t. Don’t.

  My heart stops beating as I watch him get closer to her back. The room is dead silent. I can’t even hear Cora screaming anymore. Misty’s eyes flick to me and then to the picture hanging over the bed. I follow her line of sight and see reflected in the glass with sickening clarity Chase creeping up behind her. Her eyes widen, and she turns around as fast as a spinning top, the arm holding the gun rising instantly.

  Chase lunge
s at her, grabbing the gun with his hand. The sickening sound of a gunshot blast reverberates through the room. Chase’s body jerks once, but he shoves Misty back, his hand now holding the gun. Misty falls to the bed as Chase stumbles back, blood spreading on his white dress shirt. He falls to his knees, the hand not holding the gun clutching at his belly. In a nanosecond, he lifts the gun just as Misty finds her footing and stands. Her face is maniacal and she snarls, screaming out while pushing forward and lunging for the gun.

  Chase squeezes the trigger once, catching Misty in the chest, and then fires a second time, the shot entering directly over Misty’s heart. Her body jolts and falls back to the bed, eyes open and lifeless.

  I dash over to Chase as he falls to his back. The bloodstain on his shirt is bigger than a dinner plate already and pouring out from his abdomen. His body jerks as he coughs. I rush to his side and fall to my knees, using both my hands to put pressure on his wound. It’s the hardest I’ve ever pushed my injured hand. Still, blood is oozing over my fingers, warm and slick.

  “Chase, Chase, honey stay with me. Please, please, stay with me.” Tears spill over my cheeks. “We need help. Hold on, please!”

  He looks at me, his eyes filled with agony. “Gillian, the kids…” He gasps and winces. “My reason.”

  “Yes, Chase. Gillian and the kids, they’re your reason for living, so live! Don’t give up! Don’t give up!” I’m yelling and pressing harder on his wound. “I need to get you help!” I scream to the empty room, thinking I need to get to my phone. Call someone. Anybody.

  That’s when Carson runs into the room. “What’s going on?” He drops the bag he’s holding. “Oh my God! Kathleen! Fuck, Chase!” He falls to his knees by my side. “Are you okay? The baby?” His voice is stern and assessing.

  “Fine, fine. We’re fine, Chase. Call the police. Now! He’s been shot in the stomach.”

  Cora is still screaming in the other room.

  Carson runs to the phone, calls it in, and before long sirens are blaring. Time seems to stretch, ebbing and flowing wildly. Carson has Cora in his arms just down the hall, not where she can see her mother dead or Chase on the floor bleeding out. When the paramedics finally arrive, Chase is unconscious and barely breathing.