Charity's Storm (Charity Series Book 4)

by Kinney, DeAnna

  His arms wrapped around me as he whispered lovingly and planted light kisses in my hair, “It’s okay, kitten. You don’t have to do this. I understand.”

  I jerked back to look up at him as the tears streaked my face. “I want to tell you everything, but it’s just so hard. I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  Once again he pulled me into his arms and cradled me against him, and we stayed like that for at least an hour.

  In the safety and warmth of his embrace, I was slowly lulled to sleep, and when I woke it was almost two in the afternoon and time to pick up the boys from their kindergarten class. Their teacher, Miss Emily, wasn’t happy when we left them for too long. The last time I had to leave them after class, because of an extended errand, the boys had destroyed her classroom beyond recognition, even turning over the ant farm and releasing most of the ant colony. Good thing we were able to recapture most of them, but it was a stomp of the foot for the others. Well, what else could we do? “I’ll go get the boys,” I stated as I began to wiggle from Levi’s arms.

  His tight grip froze me in place. “Are you okay?”

  His worried gaze stopped my heart, and I smiled as I softly stroked his face. “I’m fine, thanks to you.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m fine. I promise.”

  He smiled and released my arm, but the concern was still in his eyes. “Okay then. I’ll see you at supper. I have some business to take care of.”

  “Of course,” I said as I jumped off of the bed, eager to be on time. Good thing the C Wing was only a few minutes through the facility. I hurried my pace as I thought about my beautiful, quirky children. Being in their presence would give me what I so desperately needed…a mind wipe.

  That night, as I was leaning over the giant claw foot tub, giving the boys a bubble bath, I was relieved yet again to be busy with such a normal activity. Giving the boys their bath was one of the things I enjoyed the most. It was never a boring experience, and tonight would prove better than the others by far.

  “Mommy, my eyeballs are spicy,” Deacon whined, rubbing his eyes.

  I was instantly confused. It took me a moment to catch on. “Oh, you mean your eyes are burning?”

  “Yeah,” he whined louder.

  Levi and I would laugh about his choice of words later.

  I quickly snatched a towel from the railing. “Oh honey, don’t rub them you’re getting the suds in your eyes.” I gently padded his eyes with the towel. “Better?”

  He grinned, nodding, and continued to splash happily.

  “Mommy, count how long we can hold our breath under water,” Darrow and Dixon said in unison as they gulped in a mouthful of air.

  “Mommy, look what I can do,” Deacon said as he stood and peed a stream into the bubbles just as the other two boys’ heads disappeared below the water.

  I know I shouldn’t have, but I burst into laughter, covering my mouth with my sudsy hand. Just then the boys’ heads popped up and they smiled as they studied my reaction, oblivious to the root of my laughter.

  “Okay, time to rinse off,” I said quickly, leaning over to unplug the drain just as Levi burst into the bathroom.

  “Hey, guess what?!” he said as the door swung open and smacked me in the butt, knocking me into the tub and into the urine colored bubbles.

  I came up completely covered in suds.

  Levi’s eyes scanned around the room, his expression showing surprise and confusion. “Boys, where is Mommy?”

  The boys broke into piercing laughter as I raised my hand and revealed my location, hidden behind the other three bodies that were sharing the big tub.

  “Kitten, what are you doing in the tub?” His expression shifted to wonder as he studied me further. “And do you have your clothes on?”

  The boys laughed harder. “You knocked Mommy into the tub, Daddy,” they said in unison.

  Levi’s expression was priceless as his eyes grew wide and he rubbed his head. “I guess I’ll pay for that tonight, huh?”

  I nodded as my scowl grew. “Oh yeah. By the way, what is it that was so important for you to burst in here like a maniac-on-the-run anyway?” I snapped.

  He stood silent for a moment, and then shrugged. “Hmm, I completely forgot.”

  I growled and threw the soapy, wet washcloth I was holding, hitting him in the side of the head as the boys continued to giggle.

  Later that evening, after the boys were tucked into bed, I grabbed my current book and began to read. As I slowly became engrossed in the story, out of habit, I grabbed a handful of my secret stash of chocolate mints from my bedside drawer, ripping off the wrapper and eating one after the other. After a few minutes, I heard the shower shut off and soon after Levi opened the bathroom door. I laid my book down and instantly noticed a bunch of chocolate mint wrappers lying on the bedside table. Hmm, how did they get there? I don’t remember eating that many. Steam billowed from the bathroom in front of Levi, almost as if it was announcing his arrival, and I quickly swept the wrappers behind the table and smiled innocently as he stepped into full view.

  “Hey,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You okay?”

  I gulped as my attention suddenly fell to his magnificent body still damp and covered only by the fluffy white towel hanging loosely from his hips. “Uh huh,” I said dreamily.

  He laughed at my ogling, and then began to walk back and forth across the room in search of something.

  My eyes trailed after him, unable to look away for even a second, as I memorized every droplet that rolled down his tanned and sculpted back. I almost willed the towel to fall away. I purposefully pulled the covers back, revealing my bare leg and hip, positioning them in a seductive pose.

  He turned around to ask me a question and froze dead in his tracks.

  I seductively trailed a finger down my thigh. “Yes? Did you want to ask me something?”

  He stammered for a reply as his eyes scanned the length of my leg from my toes to my hip. Suddenly, he was flying through the air, and to my satisfaction, losing his towel in mid-flight, and landing on top of me. He positioned himself carefully, pulling my hands over my head and holding them there.

  “Are you trying to tempt me, kitten?” he asked, his voice deep with desire. Before I could answer, his lips came down on mine, hot and eager. He released my hands and I inched them into his damp, wavy locks as our tongues warred with each other without mercy.

  “Mmm, you taste like chocolate mint mixed with raspberries,” he mumbled without breaking the kiss.

  I ignored the remark and tilted his head, ushering the kiss deeper. He moaned as his hands began to glide smoothly down the length of my body. He pulled back and gazed down at me and smiled, revealing those magical Drake dimples. “I think tonight is a perfect night to play my favorite game.” He was referring to the game he called Explorer where he kissed every inch of me, leading up to our love making.

  “Um, puppy, that game takes hours and I’m tired,” I whined.

  A seductive growl rumbled in his chest which vibrated throughout my entire body. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation. He knew it weakened me. Cheater.

  “No fair,” I breathed as he began kissing my temples, each eyelid, and working down to my chin. I moaned. “Let the games begin…”

  Later that morning, I woke to the smell of coffee. “Ughh,” I moaned, sitting up slowly in the bed and glancing at Levi who was smirking at me knowingly.

  “You’re not tired, are you?” he teased as he poured my favorite cinnamon flavored creamer into my coffee until it was a light color of beige, just the way I liked it.

  I mock laughed. “Me, tired? Not at all.” He handed me my lip balm, and after my lips were heavily coated, he handed me my coffee. “Thanks, babe.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he responded as he climbed back into the covers and snuggled against me as I carefully sipped my hot drink that actually tasted more like a dessert.

  “You know,” I began, “I can’t
get the story of my dad out of my head. As hard as it is, I think I need to finish telling you the story.”

  He sat up, turning my head to face him. “Kitten, are you sure? It seemed so hard for you.”

  “It is hard, Levi, but I have to do it. I have to get it out once and for all. I refuse to be finifugal.”

  He scratched his head. “Umm, finifugal?”

  “Oh, it’s a new word I just learned from Ashley. It means to be afraid to finish something. Maybe I just need a little prayer time beforehand. That’s all.”

  “Of course. I’ll take the boys to their class this morning, and when I get back you can pick up where you left off. Okay?”

  I smiled slightly. “Okay.”

  Thirty minutes later, we were situated on the bed and ready to begin.

  “Charity, are you sure about this?”

  I sighed but nodded. “No matter how hard it is. I have to continue with the story.”

  He nodded reluctantly in response, and I snuggled close again and took a deep breath before continuing the story from where I had left off from the day before.

  Chapter Six

  As the three men dressed in all black burst past me and into the hallway, I gazed at my dad in horror as the realization of what was happening dawned on him. He jumped from the sofa so fast he almost blurred, grabbing me and pulling me against him protectively.

  “Leave my home! Now!” my dad barked at the three men as he squared his shoulders bravely, defiantly.

  They stood staring at us, smirks on their faces, and suddenly they revealed their weapons. All three had handguns, what kind I didn’t know. I was never a gun expert.

  My dad silenced, but I glanced up at him and noticed his jaw clenching tightly. He was very angry. But then my mom rose from the sofa to see the danger that was unfolding and screamed. My dad ran to her to quiet and comfort her, pulling her into his arms.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he whispered to her, rubbing her back reassuringly.

  “What’s going on, Dave?” my mom asked with shock in her voice.

  “I don’t know yet,” he whispered against her hair.

  One man stepped forward, pulling his hood back from his head. His face was scarred on the left side, and he looked mean, his eyebrows furrowed. He spoke and his voice was stern, sending a clear warning. “Listen up. If you all cooperate there will be no reason to hurt any of you. Our car broke down in front of your house and we need your car, and we need it now.” The man stared intently at my dad.

  My dad held his stern gaze as if challenging him. It was if my dad sensed something that we didn’t. “We both know you’re lying,” my dad said. “So how ‘bout this, you leave my home and my family right now and none of you will get hurt.”

  I gawked at my dad and his tenacity. “Dad, just give him the keys,” I said, my voice pleading. I knew he had probably left them in his dress pants upstairs like he always did.

  “Yes, Dave, give them the keys,” my mom begged.

  “I know what I’m doing. These men have no intention of just letting us go.”

  My eyes grew wide as I turned and studied the faces of the men before me. My dad was right, these guys didn’t look like the type to let us go knowing we had seen their faces, so I studied those faces even harder. If we got out of this I wanted to be able to identify them to make sure they were caught and punished. I didn’t know what they had done, or why they needed our car so badly, but by the looks of them, I figured it was something bad.

  The man with the scarred face smirked at my dad for a moment, and then addressed the others. “Find the keys,” the scarred man ordered them. His gun was fidgeting. He was restless and getting more and more angry.

  The others scurried from the room in search of the car keys. And once they had disappeared from sight and sound, my dad pushed my mom backwards onto the sofa and punched the scarred man square in the face. My mom’s head hit the edge of the side table, and she was instantly out cold. I covered my mouth to silence my scream. What was my dad doing? These men were armed! I had never seen him like this before, and it scared me.

  I ran to my mom and cradled her against me as I watched the fight in horror.

  The two struggled, throwing punches so fast I could barely keep up. My dad hit the man in the stomach, causing him to drop his gun.

  “Get the gun, Charity,” my dad ordered as they continued to grapple.

  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or pure stupidity that made me obey, but I hurried to make my way around the two men who were still locked in a struggle. As if sensing my move, the scarred man pushed my dad against me to block me from reaching the gun.

  The next sequence of events seemed to happen in slow motion. The other two men entered the room to witness the commotion.

  “Shoot them!” the scarred man ordered.

  The second man hesitated for a slight moment and then raised his gun and aimed it at us. My dad pushed me, sending me flying just as a shot rang out. I looked up just in time to see the shot pierce my dad in the chest. I screamed as he clutched his chest and turned to me. Our eyes locked. His expression was laced with pain and fear. He looked at my mom who was still unconscious on the sofa and then another shot rang out, sending him collapsing to the floor.

  “No!!” I screamed, jumping up and running to him. I pulled his head into my lap and cried as I begged him to open his eyes. “Dad, please answer me! Dad! Don’t leave us! Dad!!” I yelled at him, my voice laced with desperation.

  “Tie them up,” I heard the scarred man say to the others. “And find those keys!”

  One man grabbed my arm, and when my dad’s head fell out of my lap and hit the floor with a loud thump, the anger I suddenly felt raged inside of me like a boiling furnace and spilled over. I let him pull me to my feet, and then I turned with a jerk and kneed him in the groin harder than I knew was even possible. He went down hard. Without hesitation, I grabbed the T.V. remote from the table beside me and threw it at the third guy, the one who shot my dad, hitting him square in the eye. He cried out, dropping his weapon and grabbing his eye. I suddenly remembered my mom. I spun and froze. The scarred man had my limp mom in his arms with his gun pointed against her temple.

  “That was very brave of you, little girl, but stupid. Do you wanna die like your father?” the scarred man asked, his smirk growing wider by my horrified expression. This sent another bolt of rage coursing through me. I clinched my fists as hard as I could and willed myself to stay in place. I had never felt such anger and hatred for another living soul in my entire life. I wanted this man dead.

  My mom stirred just as the first sirens could be heard in the distance. Relief flooded my spirit at the lovely sound as the sirens grew louder. Help was coming. The scarred man studied me, his expression growing angry. He was contemplating whether or not to kill us. I could see his mind racing with thoughts as his dark eyes roamed back and forth from me to my mom and back again. Finally, he couldn’t deny that the sirens were too close and if he wanted to escape, his time was now.

  “Next time, little girl. Next time,” he warned as he pushed my mom roughly into my arms, knocking us both to the ground. I looked up to see him running from the room. The second man made it off of the floor and followed, still limping. And, after first bumping into the wall, the third man followed after them, yelling for them to wait, his hand still clutching his injured eye.

  I moved my mom gently aside and hurried over to my dad. His face was pale and his shirt was soaked with blood. He was so very still, and I knew he was already gone. My body convulsed as the pain exploded through me, leaving what felt like a hole in my chest and taking my heart with it. I cuddled up beside him, burying my face in his side, and cried harder than I thought was even possible.

  I could hear commotion in the front yard and knew the police had arrived and a chase had ensued. At the realization that the ordeal had come to a close, my heart throbbed in agony, and soon I knew my mom would feel it too. This brought on a new, more intens
e, pain than I thought I could ever experience. My dad was gone, and my perfect little life was now shattered into a million tiny pieces.

  Chapter Seven

  In just a matter of minutes, my world had been turned upside down. My life had forever been altered, and I was in agony.

  Because of their injuries, two of the men had been caught, but the scarred man was still on the loose. I hated that man with a passion. And although he hadn’t actually pulled the trigger, he was the one I hated and blamed for my father’s death. And he would have to pay for it.

  For three straight days I stayed in bed, not eating and only getting up to use the bathroom. I just cried and occasionally punched my pillow as hard as I could in anger. My dad was gone, and I just wanted to disappear. The only comfort I had was that my mom still needed me. My mind kept replaying the great day we had on my birthday, and then the movie night we had just shared. It was like a knife jabbing into my heart over and over again. Would the pain ever stop? Would I ever be the same again?

  On the fourth day, I willed myself out of bed when I heard something shatter downstairs. As I descended the stairs, I heard my mom’s deep, painful sobs. I rounded the hall and spotted her in the kitchen, crumpled on the floor with pots lying all around her. Her hair was disheveled and she was in her pajamas. I ran to her and scooped her into my arms and cradled her head against my chest. It was then that my own pain was shoved down deep, suffocating the mourning, but giving birth to a powerful anger; anger at my dad for risking everything to fight our attackers, anger at God for taking him from us, and anger at myself for neglecting to retrieve the gun that would have saved us. Yes, anger had taken hold of my heart and became my new way of grieving.

  Ashley stayed tight by my side at the funeral. She said nothing, just held my hand and cried along with me. And hot, angry tears fell even as I gazed around in awe at the many people who showed up. My dad was well liked and had lots of friends. It was a heartbreaking and exhausting day, and I was glad to have Ashley with me. She became my lifeline, staying with me for days, comforting me, helping me with Mom along with all the other things that needed to be done that Mom just wasn’t up to. We also stopped going to church. My dad had always been faithful about taking us, but without him we just didn’t have the desire to go.