by Kira Graham
By the time I make it up to the cabin and the car stops with a coughing chug before dying, I’m sweaty, annoyed, and so hungry that I eye the slimy-looking bologna sandwich that I bought at a gas station, only to realize afterwards that I can’t eat deli meat—or, ya know, anything that has green edges.
Stupid pregnancy rules. Before I got knocked up, I’d try anything once, including a two-week-old burger that I’d stashed in the fridge one night after a particularly intense clubbing session. I don’t know what it says about this particular famous fast food chain, but that thing was still completely the same and unspoiled, leading me to believe that they either put something magical in their patties, or used minced-up humans to enslave the masses.
Whatever, I think, tossing the sandwich into my bag and exiting the car. I’m here now, I’m safe, and the sooner I get inside this two-storied…well, it isn’t a cabin, I think, as I get my first look at the house. It’s no old, rickety wood cabin, that’s for sure, but rather a two-storied wood-and-glass masterpiece that could proudly grace the cover of a magazine. Grabbing my bags, I lock the car and trudge up the cute little path toward the covered porch, digging out the keys and the alarm codes.
Once I’m in and locked safely behind the doors, with the alarm set to go off if anyone goes near the windows or doors, I start to look around. The place is one great big open space with a modern, clean-looking living room that leads through a dining area and into the kitchen. What I love most is the back wall that is all glass and, according to Gil, bulletproof.
The view, as I drop my bags on the couch and walk towards the back, is breathtaking, and I find some of my anxiety slipping away when I look out over the trees and the perimeter that Gil told me about. This place is state-of-the-art and equipped for everything, down to a perimeter that’s monitored by sensors set to go off if anything larger than a large dog crosses over into the yard. Knowing Gil and his obsessive worry about his family, I know that this place is a fortress—and the perfect place for me to hide away while being as safe as I can be. When I made these plans, I considered taking Grange or Heath with me, but I nixed that idea when it occurred to me that they’re stinkin’ men who’ll side with the others about this. So it’s just me. Alone.
Which is fine, I tell myself, as I force my body to go through the motions of finding a room upstairs and unpacking. The second floor has three bedrooms, all huge and with spectacular views. I choose the master because it’s ridiculously sweet, with a low-sitting king size bed enveloped in white and gray covers, thick, dove gray carpet, and a bathroom that has both a huge tub and a shower that could fit an orgy.
Once I’m done unpacking, I head down to unload the groceries I bought, put them away into the pantry and fridge, and then make myself eat a bowl of granola and milk while I stare outside. There’s a pool to one side, high up on the slight incline going down from the cabin, and I can see myself swimming in it to escape the sudden summer heat…if I can make myself leave the house.
Ares isn’t the only reason that I needed to take some time for myself. And neither is the baby situation. Right now, I’m doing something that has been a long time coming, and a shame that I thought about only today, when we were leaving church and someone popped a balloon. I dove behind Cleo, more than willing to use her as a shield, and while I’m not ashamed, mostly ’cause I don’t feel shame, I am horrified that I’ve become such a coward that I’ve let myself sink this low.
I used to run at danger, for God’s sake. I wasn’t ever afraid, and now I scuttle home while it’s still light out, and stay in my apartment like a hermit. And, frankly, that is no way to live life. So here I am, ready to work on me, and also to use the time to do something that’s long overdue: I’m going to find Mindy-fucking-dead-Marcy, and I know just how I’m going to do it, too.
It came to me around the time that Sin was accosted by some middle-aged, balding loser, who chewed her out for not bothering to show up for some date that Mindy had set up before Sin got with Paris—oh yeah, and before that time that her crazy brother tried to kill us all.
Anyway, while I listened to Sin point out the man’s every physical flaw, list every perfect part of her fiancé’s body, and then suggest hair plugs and a no-beer diet to rid him of his gut, I had an epiphany. Mindy’s a devout Catholic, and her only other friends are, too. So I googled a few things on my phone, and I intend to comb every Christian, Catholic, or anti-Satanic site I can find for so much as a hint of that bitch. It’s a long shot, but hey—so far, it’s all we’ve got, and besides, I have time.
Sighing, I finish off the granola and drop down onto the couch, my eyes twinkling when I take in the huge flat screen TV. I won’t be bored, but that’s not what I’m here for, so I relax only for a moment, and then get up to grab the laptop that I borrowed from Gil’s daughter Flora, plus the other stuff I’ll need.
Once I’m plugged in properly and have a signal, something that I’m thanking Gil for, the city slicker, I log on to some of the sites that I’d googled and start my search. I’m no pro at this stuff—hell, Ares was the one who set up my cable for me—but I figure that I have nothing better to do than to read the bullcrap that these people are spouting. It’s a lot of scripture at first, and people making plans for one worship outing or another, but then I eventually hit on some random forums that seem to be more personal.
It takes me two hours to follow one line of conversation before I decide that I’m looking at a chat between two old ladies with a particular love of the word “pussy”—which is likely meant to refer to any of the hundred and one cats they own. Bursting into laughter, I get up to stretch and make myself tea, and then I get back to it for real, staring at the list of sites and hoping against hope that something catches my eyes or sparks my fancy.
Nothing stands out, though, and I feel like a real asshole when I read the words “Holy Strollers,” the name of a Catholic mothers’ group, and laugh, wondering if they use words like “tatas” or “private parts” when talking about their birth experiences. I once heard Honey refer to her vagina as her “sacred space,” and then almost puked in my mouth when Jack purred, “Well, Honey, I sure must be religious, ’cause I worship in the sacred space more’n is decent.”
Revolting!
After clicking and scrolling for hours more, I finally disentangle myself from the laptop when the nugget makes my stomach growl and demands food, and shuffle into the kitchen to make myself something more substantial to eat.
If the kid’s being this polite about food, it must be Sin’s, I tell myself, because if it were mine, it’d probably chew its way through my stomach, pop its head out, and snarl at me to feed it.
Chuckling at the ridiculous image, I set about making myself some French toast, and by the time that I’ve got three slices worth eating, the kitchen looks like a tornado hit it, and I still have to ignore the slight crunch of eggshells in two of the slices.
Things are looking up. Now I just need to hide out long enough to get my head on straight and not think about Ares Hart. Simple.
Chapter Eleven
Ares
“I don’t care if it’s illegal. One of them must know something,” I say evenly, my gaze as steady as I can keep it as I meet Grange’s eyes.
“I’ve talked to, begged, threatened, and then bugged each and every single person Tee knows, and no one’s talking. Face it, man, this is one Sweet who knows how to disappear,” he mutters, sounding so proud that I have the urge to lean over and punch him.
“She can’t just disappear! It’s dangerous and stupid,” I remind him, ignoring the shit ton of work that has piled up on my desk in the last four days.
I can’t work because I can’t think clearly, and that means that all I get to do all day is sit here and brood like some kind of dark presence that everyone has taken to avoiding. When I first realized that Cleo and Rosetta had told the truth, and that Tee was gone, I almost lost my fucking mind. After quelling that panic and the need to rip everything apart, however, I stop
ped, took a deep breath, and reminded myself that she’s as tracked as an FBI informant.
Until I realized that that isn’t true, because Nefertiti Sweet is as slick as a seal and harder to find than an Afghan warlord. Fuck!
“Tee is the least stupid woman I know, Hart. Let’s put it this way—if I had to bet on her ability to stay hidden versus Heath’s ability to finally screw this doctor of yours, I’d say that Heath’s less likely to get lucky,” he drawls, chuckling when I curse softly and swipe a hand over my face.
It’s a sad fact that Beau Taylor seems to have reeled Heath in and is now driving the poor son of a bitch crazy with lust, while keeping her ice-queen crown firmly in place. So yeah, I’d agree that Heath’s not likely to be getting his dick wet anytime soon, but not that…
“We need to find her,” I say, my worry seeping through my words as I toss a letter across the desk, the message so emblazoned on my brain that I don’t need to read it again to know it word for word.
Little mouse, little mouse, where did you run?
I’m watching the stables and having such fun.
Come out and play, give me a treat
I’m coming for you, little Sweet.
“Christ. This bitch has finally lost what was left of her mind,” Grange snarls, tossing the note back onto my desk with a scowl.
“That’s a bit of an understatement. It seems that she can’t find Tee, either, and it’s sending her over the edge,” I mutter, feeling worry skitter through my veins because it seems that Mindy has targeted Tee.
“That’s got me thinking, though…of all the Sweet ladies, why would she give a shit about Tee? They hardly ever hung out, and even when they did, Tee tended to stick to the fringes. She knew that Sin was tight with the idiot, but she didn’t like her one bit. Once, she even left a party early before she ‘slapped Mindy back to Jesus,’” he says, chortling when I gape and then burst out with a laugh.
“She did not say that.”
“That’s the least of what Nefertiti has said. I believe she’s had some real doozies over the past few months. One of my favorites was when she told Sin that ‘it’s gonna take a whole lot more than holy water and a priest to exorcize the dumb outta that one.’”
I frown at the comment, and bite my tongue to keep my opinions to myself where Mindy and the Sweets are concerned. But I can’t say that I like how easily nasty little comments like that roll off Tee’s tongue. It’s one thing that I’ve never quite taken to with her, and my natural dislike of conflict and ugliness rebels against finding it amusing.
“Ahhh, I see that look you’re wearing, Hart. It’s the look you give your brothers when they get mouthy and step up to the plate with other guys.”
“My brothers love conflict of any kind. Have ever since we were kids,” I point out, scrubbing a hand over the nape of my neck, where tension is mounting.
“And it’s that same look that you always give Nefertiti when she cracks a joke, which is all it is. Tee may not live up to your holier-than-thou standards of kindness and caring, but I think that you are seriously overlooking who that woman really is. It’s a shame, really, because I think that if you’d look a little deeper, you’d find that you have a lot more in common with Nefertiti than you think,” Grange says softly, rising to his feet.
I snort because that isn’t even a little true. I would never say anything hurtful, the way that Tee seems to do all the time, and I would never go out of my way to antagonize others. The woman is no devil, but every move she makes, and every word that comes out of her mouth, seems designed to annoy the hell out of people. Almost as if she thrives on their anger.
“That’s not even a little true.”
“Oh? Then you didn’t notice that Tee made Rosetta so mad that she flew into a rage with her instead of focusing on the fact that Zeus had forgotten her birthday, and that the time it took for Rosetta to finally calm down gave your brother enough time to sneak out and buy her a gift? What about when Paris and Sin were having a hard time adjusting to living together, and Tee sent that male escort over to get Paris all jealous? The way I hear it, he went so crazy territorial that Sin was cooing with delight. She distracted them, man. That’s what she does. She causes a storm here, so that the one brewing over there is forgotten. You know what your problem is, Hart? You’re a judgmental little prick who sees only the surface stuff, and you’ve been determined to see only ‘the bad’ when it comes to Tee. It makes me wonder why you even bothered to stick with her in the first place. Oh, that’s right,” he muses, his hard eyes falling over me with disdain, “she’s an easy lay.”
The words spark enough anger in me that before I can stop myself, I’m over my desk and pinning him to the door, ready and more than happy to pound his face in for daring to talk about her that way. Tee is anything but easy.
“You say that shit again, and I’ll use every dirty trick that Heath taught me to fuck you up. I may not be some ex-military blowhard who can kill a man with a jab of his finger, but I’ll make you hurt,” I hiss, my hand curling into a fist around his shirt, where I have him pinned.
Grange smiles, the fucking asshole, and shakes his head when I shove myself away, dragging a hand through my hair when I realize what he’s just done. Christ.
“Nice to know that you feel something for that little lady. By the way, she didn’t split just because you were phantom-dicking the good doctor,” he mutters, shaking his head when I whip around and frown questioningly.
“Grange—”
“I’m not about to blab on little Tee-Tee, no matter how much I want to, but if you want answers, I suggest you start thinking about the last few weeks and ask yourself something. What wouldn’t Tee do to make her family happy? Think about who her best friend is. Think about the fact that despite what you’ve been thinking about her, she’s always only made people as happy as they can be. I’m not sure you’ll figure it out, hotshot, but maybe you’ll start to see more in that little woman than anyone else has in a long time. Oh, and by the way, enjoy your date with the doctor,” he sneers, making me wince and curse again.
“It isn’t a date. I have to go to a dinner that was planned months ago, and I can’t show up alone, or those vultures will be on me like fleas on an old hound dog,” I defend myself.
“Whatever, man. All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t be too jazzed about my girl hanging all over some other dick. Tee may be the only woman in the world who can handle seeing you in the papers with chicks draped all over you and believe that they’re just platonic dates, but I gotta tell ya, I don’t like it.”
“Tee and I aren’t together,” I seethe, feeling an unaccountable sense of guilt slamming into me. “And even if we were a thing, which we’re not, the last time I asked her to come to a dinner with me, she told me to drop dead and rot.”
Grange grins, the look turning his severe face so breathtakingly handsome that I rear back and scowl. I’m a dude who is into chicks, and chicks only, but I’d be lying if I said he isn’t handsome. Right now, that smile is spellbinding—and smug, because we both know that Tee would kill me if she wanted to.
“You’re together. You stick your cock in her, you sleep in her bed, and you eat her food. You’re an item. Let this be the last time that me and the guys see you with some other broad. Oh, and by the way, Adonis is coming in hot. I guess we’re not the only ones unimpressed with your lack of concern for our Tee-Tee.”
And with that, he leaves the office, chuckling darkly as Adonis barrels past him and towards me, a grim look on his face.
Shit.
Tee
“You’re a liar,” I hiss through the phone, laughing so hysterically that I almost fall off the couch and just barely miss slamming my foot into the glass coffee table.
“Am not. It’s true. Honey and Jack were caught boning in her kitchen, and Creed swears that he is not ever eating over there again. I laughed so hard that I almost peed myself, but I swear to God, Tee, Adonis was green,” Cleo trills, her laughter turning into a snort.
Yeah. Okay. So I cracked like an egg and did something I shouldn’t have. Sue me. I’ve been stuck in this place for two whole days with nothing to do but read posts about people who are not always all there upstairs. I got bored! And me bored is a bad thing. So I snuck off to the store down the mountain, bought two disposable cell phones, and then called Cleo with one. When she realized that I was cloak-and-daggering things, and that I was safe, she was jazzed and all too willing to be involved in a secret that no one else knew.
I destroyed the phone I called her with and gave her the number for the other one, and she in turn bought her own burner phone and has been calling me ever since. It’s…thrilling and fun, and at least I don’t have to spend hours and hours alone, which—okay—was the point, but come on! I got bored.
“That’s the most revolting thing that I’ve heard in a while. Almost as bad as the time that I walked in on Rosetta and Zeus in her office. No amount of holy water is ever gonna scrub that image out of my brain,” I mutter, snorting when she giggles.
“So? I saw Alex and Chilli having sex, and it was gross. They’re like animals.”
“Like you and Adonis aren’t just as bad? I heard the two of you screwing at Honey’s once, and all I can say is, girrrrl, you a screamer.”
“Screw you.”
“Uh, no, that’s Adonis’ job, and apparently one he reeeeally enjoys,” I drawl, snorting when she sighs dreamily.
“He’s so good with his mouth—”
“Shut up! I do not want to hear about that crap. I like Adonis, and I want to be able to look at him without shuddering.”
“Spoilsport. So, anything new with your search? I’m telling you guys, Mindy is way too smart to be caught. I’ll bet she’s somewhere in Europe by now, or she’s joined a nunnery or something.”
“After she got a taste of man-meat? Not likely,” I scoff, my face scrunching up when I think about the night that Mindy was drunk and trying to violate Nate’s “sausage” while he was driving.
