“Not a total one?” I ask, surprised. “I would have thought you'd have built total walls separating your emotions from your actions, considering your past.”
Nathan nods. “And in the past, I would have told you as much. But when I did that, I forgot right and wrong, and just followed orders. I would have you be better than that, even if it is more difficult.”
I nod, and bow to him deeply, my head touching the carpet before I sit up. “Thank you, Nathan. If you don't mind, I need some alone time.”
Nathan returns my bow, although it's not as deep, but he's still respectful. “Of course. I’m going into town later today, to try and find out more about the blond man, but I will be here until breakfast.”
I get up and leave, heading out to the barn where I do my exercises on my own. I'm just wrapping up when Katrina and Jackson come in, ready for their own work. “You're early.”
“Couldn't sleep well. Honestly guys, I need to get off the farm for a little bit more today, get my fucking head right,” I say, Jackson giving me a sympathetic look.
“I heard. I don't blame you, Andi,” he says, pulling off his t-shirt and dusting his hands. “Katrina and I were talking, and BA's up for her six month checkup and polio vaccination. There's a clinic in Paradis that we can take her to, public health, cash on the counter type place. Think you wanna tag along?”
I think about it, then nod. “Sure. Carson's sticking around the farm today, Nathan'll be here until he goes off to throw sand in Peter's gears again, but I think that sounds great. What time?”
“We were going to head out around ten,” Katrina says, going over to the ropes hanging from the overhead beam and taking a grip. Almost effortlessly, she starts pulling herself up hand over hand, no feet at all, then walks herself down the same way. “That good?”
“Great. Let me go check on BA, I'll do breakfast again.”
“Do you have to?” Jackson asks with a smirk as he starts his trip up the rope. “I'd like to not lose any more weight.”
“Wiseass.”
He reaches the top, and looks down, grinning. “The wisest.”
The clinic is busy and noisy, and I'm reminded of some of the drawbacks of Katrina and Jackson's commitment to living an 'underground' lifestyle.
“You sure about this place?” I ask as I look around the clinic, hearing three different languages and English that can at best be called low education. “No offense.”
“The shot's the same whether we get it here or from our doctor in town,” Jackson says patiently, giving me a little smile. He's dressed in his functional wear, loose jeans, lightweight low cut tactical boots and a tank top, a Saints hat on his head to hide his blond hair, but he still looks slightly out of place in the clinic. “But don't worry, Andrea. We don't always do it like this.”
“Good. Maybe I just need to check my privilege, but I want BA to not grow up so... grubby,” I whisper, looking at two dirt-streaked children who are whining and tugging at their mother's shirt. “God, I sound like a stuck-up bitch.”
“We all are,” Katrina whispers. Jackson is holding BA and bouncing her on his knee, smiling and entertaining his daughter. “Sometime when this is all finished, you should see our place in Baton Rouge. You'll see how we really live.”
“Okay. Although to be honest, I'm kinda liking farm life so far. The blankets are nice, and the bed is soft.”
Katrina chuckles and leans in closer. “And you've got Melissa and Carson nearby. Admit it. I'm not hatin'.”
I shrug, giving her a little frown. “Nathan says that I need to learn to partially separate my emotions from my actions in some situations.”
“It helps,” Katrina admits wisely, and I'm reminded of her own struggle to keep her feelings and her work separate. “But it's hard.”
We go into the exam room, where the physician's assistant gives BA a complete look-over, giving us a slightly surprised but grateful nod when Katrina pulls up her daughter's medical files on her tablet and handing them over. “Sorry, we're new in town, and haven't set up a regular doctor's yet,” she says, pitching her voice to sound like she's from the northeast, maybe Boston or Maine, somewhere like that. “It's so hot down here, I just didn't want to wait, you know?”
“I understand Mrs. Hart,” the PA says, going off of the fake paperwork Katrina'd filled out. “Well, your daughter is in perfect health, and her shots are up to date. I'd encourage you to find a normal primary care physician before she gets much older however, it'll be easier than carting around her medical history on your tablet.”
“Ayup,” Katrina says, a sound that I think means 'yes,' but sounds strange coming from her mouth, “We'll be looking for a good doc soon enough. Much obliged, Doc.”
Jackson pays at the front while Katrina gets BA into her clothes, and the PA leaves. “How'd you do that?” I ask, trying not to laugh. “And how many can you do?”
“I've got about four or five that I can do well, outside of degrees of Louisiana Southern,” Katrina says in her normal voice, smirking. “There's that one, I can do a decent California girl, a flat kind of Midwest, a slight French, and then I can do a decent Celtic. Not good enough to fool a native of those areas, but around here it works well enough.”
I shake my head, chuckling. “I've got to work on that. All I can do is normal English or Japanese.”
“Go for Engrish,” Katrina says jokingly, scooping up BA in her arms. BA squirms, yanking on Katrina's hair, until Katrina gives up. “Okay, okay, I got you. Mommy's too pointy. Who do you want to go to?”
BA reaches out with a tiny little fist for me, her beautiful blue eyes beseeching me, and I chuckle, holding my hands out. “You know, you're going to make your Mommy mad at me,” I mock-grumble. “She's going to think you wanna hang out with your aunt instead of with her all the time.”
“Well, you are cooler than Mommy,” Katrina laughs, handing BA over. The tiny little baby is warm and soft in my arms, and I love holding her. She's got her mother's hair, but the DeLaCoeur blue eyes, and is truly a little angel. It's part of the reason I like calling her BA too, not for Baby Andrea but Baby Angel. “Mommy's too sweaty and sticky half the time.”
We leave the exam room and meet Jackson up front, who's finished with the paperwork. “You guys ready?”
“Let's go,” I say, bouncing BA in my arms. She giggles then squirms, looking for her Daddy. “Nope little girl, you're going to stay with me until we get to the van. Come on, it's only a minute or so.”
We step out into the muggy noon sunlight, heading toward the van. We're nearly there when suddenly a deep thunk sound comes from the van, and I see two black handles sticking out of the side paneling, a mere foot from me.
“I didn't have to miss,” a educated and accented voice says, stepping from behind a truck nearby. “I could have killed you, but my employer wants the little baby unharmed. And you alive, if possible.”
Katrina reacts immediately, diving in between the van and the car next to it while Jackson pulls me and BA behind him. The man is about Jackson's height, and at first glance you'd think they're related somehow, with white-blond hair and blue eyes. However, where Jackson is personable, sometimes goofy, and still pretty much an overgrown kid, this man... he's cold. The man’s entire outfit is white, almost blindingly so in the sunlight, but it's all dressy formal pieces. I can just make out the darkness of some ink on his skin under his shirt. He's heavily tattooed, but I can't make any of it out.
Worst of all though, the man's grin is creepy, like he's entertained as he pulls another knife from the black nylon sheath on his forearm. “I wouldn't move if I were you, Andrea. You move for the van, and I put this in your brother's left eye. Now hand me the baby.”
“Just try it, you sick fuck,” Jackson says, his voice low. He's keeping his body between the man and me, intentionally spreading his shoulders out to give me maximum protection. “You picked the wrong fight, and the wrong weapons for sure.”
“Perhaps,” he says, and I hear a hint of ac
cent in his voice, and I realize from talking with Carson and Melissa last night who we're fighting. It's Victor Orton. “But perhaps you are the one who has picked the wrong fight.”
His hand moves nearly too fast for me to see, and a back window of the van shatters. Jackson goes to make a step forward, but Orton's got another knife in his hand already, head cocked, his smile never faltering. “Come on, Son of the Don. He doesn't really care if I deliver you dead or alive. Just the baby, and your sister.”
There's movement to our left, Orton's right, and Katrina emerges from between two cars. She's got a car radio antenna in her hand that she whips down, catching Orton in the forearm. He drops his knife, dropping and rolling away as Katrina tries to follow up. Jackson moves quickly as well while I back up, going to the door of the van and opening it, putting BA inside her car seat and jumping up front. There's no time to worry about buckling her in, but it's a deep seat, she'll be safe for a little bit.
We're lucky I have a set of keys to the van and I jam them in, revving the engine. I look behind me and put the van in reverse, pulling out and pointing the van toward Orton, who's throwing another knife at Katrina. Her speed is nearly as fast as his, and she's able to dodge, while Jackson tries to close the distance. He sees me coming though and dodges out of the way, jumping toward Katrina. I get in between them all, Orton on my left with Katrina and Jackson on the opposite side. “Get in!”
Orton's pulling yet another knife as Jackson and Katrina jump in, and I throw the van into drive, jamming my foot down on the gas as soon I hear Jackson's body thump on the floorboards. We peel out, Katrina leaning over to jerk the door closed. Just before we reach the end of the parking lot another two thumps hit the back of the van and another back window explodes, causing me to scream as I hang a right. I have no fucking clue where I'm going, as long as it's out of there.
“You okay?” Katrina asks, her voice tight and scared. “Jackson?”
“Fine,” Jackson says, his voice a little shaky. “You?”
“Fine. Andrea?”
“I'm fine. What about BA?” Baby Andrea answers for all of us by laughing happily, and I glance into the rearview mirror where I see that she's waving her arms and smiling. She thinks this is all a big game. Katrina kisses her daughter and reaches for the straps on her car seat. BA, seeing that her game is over, stops laughing and pouts, crying in frustration when Katrina clicks the straps closed. “Okay, question answered.”
“We need to get back to the farm and find out about Orton, now,” Katrina says. “If he found us here, he knows about the farm.”
I nod, and reach the end of the road. I have no idea where I am, so I hang a left, going anywhere I can to put distance between us and the clinic, my eyes cutting back constantly to look to see if someone is trying to catch up to us. “Well then, get on your GPS, because I'm lost.”
Chapter 12
Carson
It's unnerving, the apparent normalcy of sitting around the kitchen table, a snoring baby sitting in her car carrier as we wait for Nathan to arrive while we discuss what happened at the clinic. He texted us just a minute ago, saying he's on his way here, and as we wait, everyone seems so calm. Everyone that is, except Melissa.
“You mean... the man I talked to last night... oh God,” she says, her voice trembling and her hands shaking as she looks out into the dooryard at the van. Two windows have been smashed, and there's still a throwing knife handle embedded in the rear door.
Katrina shakes her head and comes around the table, taking Melissa's hands. “You did nothing wrong, Melissa. Last night you were trying to be nice, and you were talking to what you thought was a nice man. That's it.”
“Still... little Andrea... I'm so... I'm so...” she tries to get out before she starts sobbing. Katrina holds her carefully, stroking her hair and comforting her. “She could have died!”
“But she didn't,” Katrina says softly, and I look at Jackson. His normal happy go lucky appearance is gone, and he’s as serious as can be. Andrea, for her part, is sipping tea with both hands and looking down at the table, holding her peace for now. I want to reach out and reassure her that she's going to be all right too, but now isn't the time, and Melissa needs my help.
I get up from my chair and go to Melissa's other side, kneeling next to her. “'Lissa... 'Lissa, look at me.”
She sniffles and pulls her head from Katrina's shoulder. “What?”
“You didn't know. It's okay, and we can move on from here,” I reassure her. “Now, I know it's going to be hard, but I'm going to ask you to do something I've never asked you before. You've done it on your own, but now I'm asking you instead. I need you to harden up, and deal with it. We all screwed up last night. Look around the table. Everyone but Jackson and BA have some guilt for what happened this morning. But if what's going to happen is what I think might happen, we need each and every one of us going full-on to protect our family. I love you 'Lissa, and I've always protected you, because you protected me first, but now we need you to protect someone else.”
“Who?” Melissa asks, her eyes clearing up as she sniffs back the snot in her nose. “Who can I protect? I'm a wreck who can barely take care of herself.”
“BA,” I say softly. “We're going to have to set up a safety net, a hierarchy. We all protect each other, and we'll protect you, but most of all, you need to protect BA. She's your niece, and if we were innocent long ago, she's even more innocent. You don't want her to fall victim to Peter's evil, right?”
Melissa nods, her eyes hardening. “No way. Okay... I'll do my best.”
“I know you will. That's why I love you so much.”
Jackson's phone buzzes, and he looks at it. “That was Nathan. He says he's got a tail, he's trying to lose it. He'll be delayed about ten minutes. Carson, you mind having a talk outside? I could use some fresh air.”
“Sure. You mind helping me in the barn? I'd say after this morning, my gun collection needs more than just to sit in my cabinet.”
“That sounds good. You girls will be okay without us?”
Katrina glances at Andrea, who gives her brother a grin. “You know it. Girl power and all that. You boys go do what boys do in barns, playing with your guns. We'll be fine.”
Jackson bumps fists with Andrea, and gives Katrina a meaningful, somewhat smoldering look. There's strength between them, and I hope it's one that I can depend on as things get worse.
I lead Jackson outside to the barn, over to my weapons area. I unlock the cabinet, and turn on the light. “So what's your poison?”
“Glock 17,” Jackson says, “if you've got one. If not, a 1911.”
I give him a look, smiling. “Strange combination there. Any particular reason?”
Jackson chuckles and nods. “Long story. Maybe another time.”
“Well I've got both, so that's not a problem,” I tell him, pulling out a pair of Glock 17s.
“Can I ask you a question since we're out here alone? What did you mean about Melissa protecting you?” Jackson asks as he checks the Glocks I hand him. “I got the impression that you've always been the one who stuck up for her.”
“I have, but not always,” I tell him, thinking back. “Realize that when the Sands died, after Janice's suicide, I was only two years old. Melissa was seven. So at first I didn't understand as we were taken in by our uncle and aunt, except that she for some reason was always angry at Melissa. Me too, actually. I think they would have thrown me out on my ass except that the will stipulated me as the sole beneficiary. My uncle needed to keep me around in order to justify using money from the trust fund for my upbringing. Still, he was unfair about it despite what I said about him earlier. Melissa doesn't say anything, I'm not sure she thinks about it anymore, but at first, Melissa went to public school while I was sent to private daycare, stuff like that. When I was old enough to realize what was happening, I tried to stand up to my uncle, who wasn't the kindest of men. He was old school country, and thought he was the lord and master of his entire pr
operty and family. For a little punk like me to try and stand up to him... he beat me... pretty badly.”
“How badly?” Jackson asks, his face written in disgust.
“Broke my wrist, shattered my cheekbone. You can't see the results, the docs did a good job of setting it and puberty took care of the rest, but afterward, I was going to tell the child welfare people. I was eight, and my uncle went for his favorite tool, his baseball bat. It wasn't full-sized, it was one of those kids' models, maybe about eighteen inches long, he used it when he was out in the back fields. Melissa...” I say, getting choked up at the memory, I guess it's been so long since I shared it with anyone, “She got in between us. She was still suffering then, the nightmares and the depression, all of it, but she stood up and protected me. I remember, standing there with my face swelled up, my wrist in a cast from where he broke it earlier, and Melissa's standing there, a kitchen knife in her hand, holding it out and threatening to kill our uncle with it. She stood up to him, and afterward, when he and our aunt left and stayed away for three days on a trial abandonment or something, she took care of me. I couldn't cook for shit obviously, I could barely microwave ramen, and she wasn't much better, but we stayed fed, we stayed cleaned, and we stayed together. I'd been sleeping with her before, since I was a toddler and I was the only one who could calm her nightmares, but during those days, she was the one comforting me. From that point on, during the good days or the bad, I've always known one thing. Melissa's only weak until she needs to protect someone else.”
Jackson nods, and picks up the pistols. “I always knew she could. And you're not thinking of ditching us? I'm not trying to be a dick, but so far Peter hasn't directly threatened you or 'Lissa.”
I shake my head, and go to the ammunition portion of my cabinet, taking out boxes of nine millimeter ammo. I don't keep my guns loaded in my cabinet. “Not an option. You're family, Jackson, and I'm not going to abandon family. Now, I do think we need to talk with Nathan about perhaps abandoning the farm for safety reasons, 'Lissa can deal with it, but abandon you guys? Hell no.”
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