by Lena North
“Yeah,” he murmured. Then he stepped back and looked at me with hard eyes. “Mom said that some of the men had already looked at the equipment. The locking pins had snapped in a way they didn’t like, and they think it could have been rigged by someone. This was deliberate, Wilder. It wasn’t an accident.”
I gasped, but he kept talking.
“Mom is the one who goes out there all the time, to get things. You know how she is, it’s her storage, Dad never touches it because she says he messes things up out there. But she’s unhappy with how things have been with you and all other things that had happened, so she doesn't sleep very well, and dad told her to put her feet up. He went instead today.”
I realized immediately what he implied, but he spelled it out anyway, looking at Mac as he did.
“The arms are always raised and locked. She’s much shorter, Mac. It hit him in the shoulder mostly, but it would have hit her straight in the head. Would have killed her.”
A whimper escaped my throat at his blunt words, but I knew he was right. Then Mac’s arms circled me from behind, and I leaned into him.
“Bird says he was alive when they put him in the ambulance,” Mac murmured. “Says he opened his eyes, not much, but he was trying.”
Mickey pressed his lips together, hard, and then he murmured, “Thanks, man.”
“Go,” I said and handed him the bag. “Wallet, keys, some other things. Call as soon as you know anything.”
“We’ll talk to Hawker, he’ll tell the others. We’ll all be there,” Mac said.
Mickey nodded and started walking toward the door, but I called out to him.
“I mean it Mickey. Anything. Tell Aunt Gwen to call. Tell her I love her, and I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, but his mind was on his father, so I just smiled a wobbly smile that he tried but failed to return. “Yeah,” he repeated hoarsely, and then he left.
I would have fallen to my knees if Mac hadn’t held me up.
“My fucking ex-father,” I spat out.
Mac made a sound, but I was beyond caring about anything at all, so I went off on a rant.
“He is behind this. I know he is. Killing Aunt Gwen would crush Uncle Andy. I wouldn’t know how to handle Double H without him. Have no clue. He could have sweet talked me into –”
I stopped talking and turned to stare at Mac. He waited patiently.
“I’m going to Marshes,” I said.
“Wh –”
“Right now,” I continued. “Today. I’ll call him in a little while, tell him the terrible news, say I don’t know what to do. I’ll say I need to get away for a while.”
“No,” he stated.
When I opened my mouth to start arguing, he simply put a hand over it.
“No. It's a stupid excuse, and he’ll know it. You would want to go to the hospital. Go to Double H to try to run operations there.”
He held my eyes as I thought this over. Shit. He was right.
“But you should go to Marshes,” he continued, and my eyes widened. “You’ll have to leave immediately. You need to leave before they could have reached you with the news from Double H.”
He removed his hand, and I whispered, “But what would I tell him? Why would I so suddenly need to go to Marshes?”
The corners of his lips turned up just a little.
“Me.”
What?
“It’s no secret that everyone thinks I’m a player. Hell, Wilder, maybe I’m not a player, but I’ve certainly dated. A lot,” he said.
This wasn’t news to me so there was no need for him to point it out to me. I also didn’t like to hear it.
“It is also no secret that Hawker does not want me near you,” he continued, and I started to understand. “So you call Fratinelli and tell him that you’ve had a huge fight with Hawker. Over me. And we need to get away for a while because you’re afraid we’ll kill each other.”
Hm. That was actually not a bad plan.
“We?” I asked.
“Yeah, babe. I’ll go with you to Marshes. Hawker will be unhappy as all hell that I’m going with you, but he knows I’ll protect you.”
Um, what?
“Protect me?” I asked slowly.
He must have read the look on my face accurately because he backtracked immediately.
“Not protect you as in actually protecting you, Wilder. Bad choice of word. I meant that I’ll help you, of course.”
I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant, but we didn’t have time to argue over his idiocy right then.
“Okay. We’ll do it like that. I’ll call Paolo, then we’ll go to Hawker’s,” I said.
Then I picked up my phone and since I was upset I didn’t have a hard time sounding totally distressed through my explanations about Hawker's horrible behavior, and how I needed to get away immediately. Paolo promptly agreed that Hawker indeed was horrible and told me to come to Marshes without delay. I didn’t even have to ask if Mac could come. Paolo invited him.
While I talked, Mac packed my things, and as he handed the bag to me, he grinned.
“Sweet undies,” he said and walked out leaving me staring at his back.
Oh, crap. The man had rifled through my underwear.
“Lock up, Wilder, we have to go to Hawker’s now,” he called and then his bike rumbled.
I got up behind him without a word, glad that it was dark so he wouldn’t see my blush. He laughed all the way to my father’s house, though.
To say that Hawker was unhappy about the news would have been the understatement of a century. He roared so loud a dog started barking outside. Then he fired questions at us about Uncle Andy’s accident, mixing it up with angry orders for us to stay in Norton, and orders that we should go with him to Prosper.
“Dad,” I said pleadingly.
“No. That isn’t going to work this time, Wilder,” he barked.
“Hawker, you know I’ll take care of her,” Mac said, and I could tell that he was getting annoyed.
“No. That isn’t going to work either, Mac,” Hawker growled.
When it looked like Mac would explode, I moved to put myself between them, but then Sloane stepped in.
She put her hands on Hawker’s chest and pushed gently until he looked at her.
“They’re going, Hawk. You can’t stop them, and you shouldn’t,” she said softly. “They do what has to be done, and you should be proud,” she continued. When he said absolutely nothing, she went on with a small smile, “Scared out of your mind. But proud.”
Their gazes held for a long time and then he exhaled.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Language,” she said, and it seemed like an old joke between them because his lips twitched.
“Dad,” I said again.
“Yeah,” he said, turning to me but rolling his eyes. “Gray hair, Wilder, that’s what you’ll give me.”
Then his gaze went to Mac.
“A word outside before you leave, Mac.”
I moved to protest, but Sloane took hold of my arm and pulled me away, whispering, “Pick your fights, Wilder. Please let him be the father he hasn’t had many chances to be so far.”
Then she spoke up, “You can stay in here. Wilder and I will get a few of my things for her.”
We walked through the house and into the guest room she was staying in. She continued into the adjoining bathroom and returned with a surprisingly large make-up bag, rifling through it as she walked.
“Here,” she said and stretched out her hand. “Take these.”
I stared at her hand. Oh my god, I thought. Ms. Parks is handing me condoms.
“Um,” I said, and when she made an impatient sound, I grabbed the handful of contraceptives.
I didn’t know what to do with them, and I certainly didn’t want to walk out to my father, and Mac, with my hands full of condoms. She laughed then and gave me a soft gray blouse with embroiderie
s in black and silver.
“Wrap them up in this.”
“Um. Thanks,” I said, feeling awkward when I bundled it all together.
“You think you don’t need them, but sweetie... he’s Mac, and trust me, you might.”
“What happened with you and Dad? Before, I mean?” I asked, changing the topic because I really, really didn’t want to discuss sex with her.
“We slept together, once. A long time ago,” she said calmly.
Oh shit. I’d gone straight from the ashes and into the fire, apparently.
“He left sometime during the night and never called me again,” she said, and I seemed about to elaborate when an angry voice came from the door.
“I called you every fucking day for two weeks. You never picked up. Let’s get the facts right if we’re gonna share our history with my daughter,” Hawker growled so loudly it was close to a shout.
“You did not,” she growled right back.
“I –”
Mac stepped past my dad and grabbed my hand.
“We’re leaving,” he said to the room in general.
They were busy glaring at each other, so I nudged my father.
“Dad, we’re leaving. You need to go to Prosper. You can fight in the car, yeah?”
He turned to me and then he surprised me by wrapping me up in a huge hug.
“Be careful, baby,” he murmured in my hair. Then he let go of me, and turned to Sloane, “Did absolutely call. Let’s get in the car.”
Then he walked out of the room.
“That man,” Sloane muttered and followed him.
Mac and I were still laughing when we arrived at his place. I’d been curious about his condo, but I didn’t get to see much of it.
“The place is a mess, do not move,” was his growly command before he disappeared into a room to the left.
I nodded to his disappearing back and let my eyes move over the living space, slash kitchen, slash dumpster I was facing.
Oh. My. God.
I’d never been particularly concerned with cleanliness. My clothes often ended up in a pile on a chair or on my bed. I left the plates and glasses in the sink and washed them up when I felt like it, which more often than not is never, which meant Gwendolyn was usually nagging about it until I did. I lost things all the time, but I usually found them again. Eventually. Another quick glance around the condo confirmed that Mac likely would be like the embodiment of Antichrist to the pedants of the world.
“Let’s go,” he said.
As he walked through the room with a small bag in his hand, he nimbly avoided stepping on an empty pizza box and skirted around a pile of clothes that I could have sworn was moving slightly.
“I guess you’re not very good at cleaning,” I said faintly, sweeping my hand out to indicate the disaster in front of me.
“I’m probably the best cleaner there is,” was his strange reply. Then he sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. “I’ve done it enough, though, Wilder. From the age of six until I was fifteen and left them, I cleaned my uncle’s house.”
I stared at him, not quite believing what I heard.
“All of it,” he continued tersely, adding in a whisper, “also my cousin’s rooms.”
“Really?” I squeaked.
“Yeah,” he replied.
Without explaining further, he took my hand and pulled me through the door, clearly not intending to continue discussing this. My mind was full of questions, although mostly about what kind of pain I could inflict on that uncle of his, without my father having to arrest me.
Then we continued toward Marshes.
We’d been on the road for hours when Mac pulled over to stop. It was dark, and the small village was still some distance away, but the lights were clearly visible against the horizon. The river had widened, and the inlet was full of islands, but this part was a national preserve, so there were no houses or lights and it looked like a black void.
“Let’s stretch our legs a little,” Mac muttered, and I swung off the bike before he did.
He left the headlights on, and it cut through the darkness around us. I stretched my back and wondered how red my behind would be. His saddle was one of the most uncomfortable I’d ever been on, and it hurt.
We’d argued about our choice of transportation, and I’d lost. For some reason, Mac had insisted that we should be on his bike, and it hadn’t helped that I’d talked about the weather, the fact that it was late, and the size of our luggage. “I’ve got winter tires, Wilder, and we will only be there for a few days,” he said and proceeded to prove his point by tucking our small bags into his huge saddle bags, closing them with a snap.
“Wilder,” he murmured suddenly, and I turned to him because he sounded strange.
“Yeah?”
“We’ll be there soon,” he said.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Need to kiss you first,” he muttered.
What?
“Why?”
“They need to think we’re a couple, babe. We need to be all lovey-dovey, but we’ve barely touched each other, and it will all look fake. Also, if we want to look around, then walking off to find some privacy for a few kisses is a good excuse, but someone might see us,” he said.
I wished he didn’t sound so unhappy about it.
“You don’t have to come, Mac. You can drop me off and I’ll –”
He cut me off by pulling me close to him, pulling my hair gently to tilt my head back a little.
“You don’t get it. I want to kiss you. I just don’t like that it’s because we have games to play with the asshat. Wanted you to want it too.”
Oh.
Then he leaned in and put his mouth to mine, and holy crap, the man knew how to kiss. I felt it all the way from my shivering knees to the top of my head. My arms went around his waist, and I kissed him back. I had no clue how long we stood there, but suddenly there was a loud honking sound and a few whistles and cheers. I turned my head dazedly and a car passed by slowly. There were four men in it, and they were grinning widely.
“Woo-hoo,” one of them shouted, and then they drove off into the night.
I looked at Mac, and he was smiling.
“Woo-hoo,” I said. “Who the hell says something like that?”
“Dorks, babe,” he replied calmly, and I snorted out laughter because he was not wrong.
We started walking back to the bike, but I stopped him, thinking that I had to explain.
“Falk,” I murmured, but stopped speaking when I felt his whole body stiffen.
“You don’t want me to use your name?” I whispered.
He was silent for a while.
“I don’t mind. Didn’t let anyone use it for a long time, so it’s weird to hear it, but it’s okay. More than okay, actually. I kind of like it,” he said.
Didn’t let anyone use it? There was much to ask about, but I decided that a parking lot just outside Marshes wasn’t the place for it, so I just nodded.
“I just wanted you to know that I wanted to kiss you too,” I murmured, suddenly feeling like an idiot, wishing I hadn’t said anything.
He used a hand under my chin to turn my face up toward him. His eyes had softened in a way that made my belly tingle, so before I allowed myself to think, I got up on my toes and kissed him, softly and quickly. Then I caressed his cheek, and said, “Come on, let’s go visit the asshat.”
Before he started the bike, he turned to me and smiled. His mouth moved although I couldn’t hear what he said through the helmet, so I just smiled back at him.
The rest of the way to Marshes went quickly, but it felt like forever. I was cold, and since it was well into the night, I was also tired. We passed the gates and we were clearly expected because a man got out immediately, raised his hand in a wave and raised the beam allowing us to enter without questions.
“Follow the road to the main square, then turn left. Fratinelli lives fo
ur houses down,” he shouted, and Mac raised his hand in thanks as we kept going.
Paolo must have been waiting for us because the front door opened the second Mac turned off the engine, and my ex-father stepped out, waving and shouting jovially, “Welcome! Come in!”
Mac took my hand and squeezed it lightly. I took a deep breath, and then we entered the house where my stepfather had spent so much time all through my childhood.
“Welcome,” he said jovially. “Oh, Wilder, you look exhausted, my girl. I’m sending you straight to bed. We can talk more tomorrow. Come, this way,” he ordered and started to walk down the large hallway.
We followed him without a word, and I was grateful that we wouldn’t have to sit down and chat with the man when I was so tired I barely knew my own name.
“Here, the guest quarters,” Paolo said, opening a door. “It’s a separate wing, but I warn you, it isn’t very big.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fratinelli,” Mac murmured politely. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure Wilder gets to bed, and then if you could let me know where I can park my bike?”
“No problems, I’ll ask one of the men to –”
“No offense, Mr. Fratinelli, but no one rides my bike but me,” Mac stated calmly.
“Of course. If you don’t mind having it outside for the night, then just put it in the small alley beside the house. All garages are next to the gate where you entered, I’m afraid. We rarely use motor vehicles within the town limits,” Paolo said, just as calmly, although not unfriendly. “And please, call me Paolo.”
“Paolo,” Mac said with a small tilt of his head. “It can stay outside tonight, and I’ll move it in the morning. Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you for the night then. Good night and sleep well, Wilder. Bolt the door when you get back inside, Mac?”
“G’night,” I murmured and waved my hand toward him.
I heard his footsteps disappearing down the long corridor as I walked into the guest room to find that he had been right. The guest room wasn’t very big, although it wasn’t very small either, and there seemed to be an adjoining bathroom. I looked around and quickly realized that there was only one bed.
Crap. We hadn’t thought about that as an option, or at least, I hadn’t.
