Till The Sun Dies: Checkmate, #2

by Finn, Emilia

  “Okay…”

  “But when the queen takes the board, she says…”

  “Checkmate.”

  He grins. “Checkmate. My queen took the board, and I’m not even sorry.”

  “What’s this got to do with work?” I ask. Ang steps closer and leans against the same counter I do, and when our shoulders touch, I barely stop myself from squeaking.

  It’s just Ang! Why am I nervous?

  Not so long ago, I’d have moved away. Goosebumps would race beneath my skin and my heart would hammer in my chest.

  My instincts would scream at me to run.

  The goosebumps are here. The racing heart, too. But I don’t run.

  Half a day of messing around at an adult playground with a gun in my hands and him touching my body the entire time – my hip, my shoulder, my back – I find a different kind of sensation when my heart races.

  I’ve been desensitized to his touch in the best way.

  I smile, because I don’t want to run. Then I blush, because Kane’s eagle eyes notice my smile.

  “The queen always wins.” With a flirty wink, he looks to Ang. “Checkmate Security. I’m gonna keep doing what I know, but I’ll be doing it as a civilian, on my own schedule, without a chain of fuckin’ bullshit command and paperwork coming out my asshole. We’re going out on our own, and the only person I’ll answer to is–”

  Jess grins. “Is me.”

  He drops a kiss on her lips.

  “Eric’s going with you?” Ang asks. “He’s leaving the force?”

  “He left the day I left. There was no way in hell he was just gonna let me go without him. He has a serious case of FOMO. He hates missing out.”

  “He’s like a child,” Jess laughs. “Or a puppy.”

  Ang frowns. “And Spence?”

  “Is a damn psycho,” I add.

  Kane snorts. “Spence is contracting in. He likes his work, but he also gets off on shooting people and watching them bleed. Now he can have the best of both worlds.”

  “Security companies aren’t supposed to shoot people.” Ang’s chest grows, like this conversation pushes adrenaline through his blood. “Security companies drive around town and make sure all the shops on Main are locked up and secure.”

  Kane laughs. “No. Not a rent-a-cop, asshole. I’m not the guy that’s gonna slide a business card into doors on a security pass. That’s not me.”

  “So what, then?” Ang sets his empty glass on the counter behind me. “What does your business plan entail besides Big Macs that you’ll regret twenty minutes later?”

  He shrugs. “Private investigation. Protection. Search and rescue. There are probably kittens stuck in a tree somewhere.”

  “So you just declare it and it becomes fact? You decide this is your new job and people ask you to protect them?”

  He lifts a daring brow. “Yup. I already know a couple attorneys that are in need of PI work. I know cops that can’t make a habit of getting their hands dirty the way I can. I know people that want shit done that they can’t do themselves.”

  Ang’s eyes narrow. “On a scale of one to none, how legal will your actions be in this new venture of yours?”

  “We get shit done, Riggs.”

  Riggs.

  Why does that name keep coming up? And why does it make Ang growl?

  Kane brushes it off. “We get results when we do shit my way, and when we get results, we get paid. When I get paid–”

  “I get new shoes.” Jess drops a wet kiss on his forehead. “Everything’s okay, Ang. You need to relax. Don’t worry so much.”

  17

  Laine

  Four Weeks Later

  “Hi, Laine.” Sonia stops at her office door with a smile. “I’m ready for you now. Come on in.”

  I stand from the waiting room chair and snicker when Jess slaps my ass. The loud crack echoes through the room and draws the attention of others that are waiting.

  “Jessica.” Turning, I lean forward and get in her face the way moms have been doing for all time; with a gritted smile and crazy eyes. “Do that again, young lady, and you’re gonna be in a lot of trouble.”

  She pokes her tongue out. “Go talk to your crazy doctor. Tell her I said hey. Tell her that thing we said and make sure she says it’s okay.”

  “What if I don’t? What if I ask her to sign something that says we’re not allowed to hang out anymore? You’re a bad influence on me, Jessie. You and your thug boyfriend are no good for me.”

  She scoffs. “Me and my thug boyfriend are good for everyone. And it wouldn’t be the first time you and I went against doctor’s orders.” Laughing, she turns me around and slaps my ass a second time. “Ride on!”

  Sonia watches us with a motherly smile. Her work is work, but her heart is invested. I pass beside her when she steps aside, and the door closes with a soft snick as she follows.

  I stop beside the chair I’ve sat in countless times before and grin – at the cup of stinky tea, at the box of tissues. “I don’t think I’m going to cry today.” I pick the tissues up and offer them. “I’m taking a stand. No more crying.”

  She accepts the box with a smile. “Alright then, sit down and tell me everything. It’s so good to see you again.”

  My life is changing; I’m smiling more, my hands don’t itch as much. The world just doesn’t seem as heavy lately.

  Freedom never felt so good.

  “You look good.”

  I grin. “I feel good. I’m smiling more.”

  She places the tissue box on a little table to her left and sits back with an elegant cross of her ankles. “That makes me happier than you know. Tell me what’s happening. Our sessions are decreasing now, so I’ve missed you.”

  “The Buick’s coming along. Not long till it’s finished.”

  “Really?” She sounds surprised. “How long have you been going? That feels like it happened really fast.”

  “It doesn’t take so long when you’re going eight hours a day. Even when it’s just me, and Ang is at his garage doing actual paid work.”

  Her lips turn up into a conspiratorial smile. “Angelo’s still helping?”

  “Yeah, it’s technically his car. I’m just sticking my nose in places it wasn’t invited. I’ve found a kind of utopia. A place to hang out all day, listen to music, use my mind, and because I always have some kind of heavy tool in my hand, I’m not scared anymore. Even if someone snuck up on me, I’d turn fast and whack them with a wrench.”

  She coughs nervously. “You feel the need to carry a weapon?”

  It’s been four weeks since Angelo took me to meet Spence, and since my therapy sessions have thinned out from daily, to weekly, to twice a month, those sessions have been replaced with hours at the gun range.

  But there’s no way in hell I’m telling my therapist about that.

  I don’t go there because I want to hurt people. I don’t even go because I have the constant meltdowns I used to. Now, I simply go because independence and power surge through my veins and provide a boost that no medication could manage.

  Angelo insists on going, and when I go, he goes. When he goes, he holds my hips and steers me through the simulation yard.

  My brain says boys are bad. They hurt and control. They’ll stop at nothing until you’re a submissive mess lying on the bathroom floor with an aching body, a bleeding vagina, and a broken heart.

  But this tiny little sliver of my heart says that’s not who Angelo is.

  And that tiny little sliver encourages me to explore the hip holding.

  “Laine?”

  “Hm?”

  “Weapons?”

  “Oh! Right.” I sit up taller and re-focus. “It’s not that I feel the need for a weapon. Kane’s house is locked up like a fortress, and everything’s on security camera. I don’t need a weapon, but having tools in my hands makes me feel safer. Just in case, you know?”

  She nods yes, but she takes notes on that pad of paper. Crazy, crazy, crazy.

 
“How are you sleeping?”

  And just like that, she wipes away my smile. “I still dream.”

  “Every night?”

  I nod. “Most.”

  Crazy, crazy, crazy.

  “What do you dream about?”

  Restlessly, I shrug and sit back into my chair. “A dark club. Fire. Men. Lots and lots of men.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Lots and lots of hands.” I clasp mine together and rub one thumb over the other. “Graham’s in all of them. Ang is in some of them.”

  “Does Angelo ever hurt you in your dreams?”

  “No. He’s just kind of there, like he’s disappointed in my choices. He wants me to leave, but he doesn’t reach out, he doesn’t do anything.” My eyes water. “He’s a watcher. He watches the show.”

  Understanding, she purses her lips and makes notes. “Okay, he watches. How does that make you feel?”

  I can’t even laugh at her cliché question. “It makes me feel foolish. Foolish that I got myself into such a mess. Foolish that I did something really dumb one time, so Graham had power over me that I wasn’t strong enough to shake. And because I was weak, I still feel the consequences of that today.”

  “You’re not angry that Angelo doesn’t reach out? That he doesn’t take you away?”

  “No.” I lean across and grab a stupid tissue. Touché, Sonia. Touché. “He didn’t put me there. I put me there. Graham put me there. And now I’m living through the consequences of my actions.”

  She stops writing and looks up. “You still blame yourself for what happened?”

  “Of course! Who else is there to blame? I walked into that club. I let them do those things to me. There is literally no one else to blame but me.”

  “Are you angry with Graham?”

  “In my dreams? Or real life?”

  “Both.” She clasps her hands. “Either.”

  “I dunno.” I scrunch the tissue between my fingers. “In my dreams, I’m afraid of him. When I wake up, I’m afraid and angry. It’s really conflicting for me; angry and afraid, because if I stayed angry, I might be able to kick away the fear. You know? But I’m not quite there yet.” A tear slides along my cheek. “I’m afraid this time at Jess’ place is a really long dream. I’m afraid that, in real life, I’m still with Graham and this is a dream. And how awful is it that this, this new world where I still cry every single day, is my hopes and dreams?”

  “Most people strive for better, Laine, but often, they’re scared of getting it.”

  “Why?” I dab the tissue beneath my eye. “Why would someone be afraid of getting something they want?”

  “Because when you don’t have it, that’s just your life, right? You’re doing fine, you’re coping, you’re living your life. But when you do have that thing you dreamed about, that thing you so desperately prayed for… well, now you have something to lose. People are scared of getting something and losing it again.”

  “I’m afraid of happiness.” I draw in a long breath and hold it. “Because right now, I have what I have and I’m coping. But if I become happy and then lose it…”

  “It’s a painful thought, Laine, but a brave goal.” She reaches forward and takes my hand. “You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to seek happiness.”

  “Yeah.” Pulling away gently, I swipe away a tear. “I’m trying.”

  She smiles and nudges the tea forward. “Does Graham still contact you?”

  “No.” I pick the cup up, bring it to my nose, and push it away again. It reeks of flowers and dead pigeon. “I got a new phone. New number. I haven’t been back to my apartment once. Jessie gets me anything I need, so I don’t have to go to the store. Unless he gets brave and rocks up to Kane’s house, it’s unlikely I’ll run into him for a while.”

  “And you’re not back at work?”

  “No.” I sigh. “I don’t know… I don’t think I’m really in the right headspace to teach children right now. My school brought in a substitute, and she’s been there for a while. It’d probably be more disruptive if I come back now when they’re almost done their semester. I’ll just let it ride and go back in August. Start the school year fresh.”

  Nodding, she takes a sip of her rodent tea. “That sounds like a promising idea. Do you have plans for the summer? Something exciting?”

  “Actually…” Jess’ stupid grin flashes through my mind. Ask her! Tell her our plans, get your quack’s permission or I’ll tie you to the train tracks. “Yeah. Maybe. I wanted to talk to you about that.”

  “Really?” From heavy talk to playful smiles, Sonia sits forward in her chair. “Go on.”

  “Ah… I think I’m going to buy the Buick. It’s a genuine classic, and I’m in genuine love. I’m considering marrying it.”

  She snickers. “The one you’re building? Mr. Alesi will sell it to you?”

  “Yeah. He said he would, and since I’m with it every day, I’ll know when to steal the keys so he can’t drive it away and sell it to someone else.”

  She grins. “Okay. New car, new beginnings. I like where you’re going with this.”

  “So, Jess wanted me to talk to you about something. Like,” I hesitate, “I’m not sure if we need your permission to do it.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t need my permission for anything, Laine. You’re a grown woman. These visits aren’t mandated, and I don’t hold your future in my hands. I’m just here to talk. You come because you want to. You come to see a friendly face and talk about some things you’re not comfortable talking to your family about. I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy knowing you. I hope you always consider me a friend, I hope we can see each other in the store and you’ll show me your beautiful smile, but you don’t have to visit me. You can stop these sessions whenever you want.”

  “So I can leave the state and I won’t get in trouble?”

  She laughs. “You can move to Russia and you won’t get in trouble. Though I hope you don’t. I heard winters over there are brutal. And,” she shrugs, “put simply, I’d miss you.” Re-crossing her ankles, she meets my gaze. “Tell me your plans.”

  “Ah… while we’re on that, I also have something else to talk to you about. It’s a big news week.”

  An hour after walking into Sonia’s office, a couple cycles through smiling and crying and a whole lot of ‘but I can’t’ and ‘isn’t it weird’ and ‘am I a bad person for thinking this’, I walk out again with pink eyes and a smile on my face.

  “So?” Jess tosses her magazine aside and jumps up. “Did you ask?”

  “Yeah…” Almost like I’m in shock, I look around the room in a daze. “I asked.”

  She falls into step as I move toward the front door. “And?”

  For the first time ever, I step out of Sonia’s office in cutoff shorts, flip flops, and a tank top. The sun kissing my skin has never felt so good. “She said I better finish the Buick.”

  “Woooooo!” Jess jumps into my arms with a squeal.

  18

  Angelo

  An Announcement

  For weeks after Laine’s first meeting with Spence, I close up the garage every afternoon at five on the dot, climb into my Charger, grab drive-thru subs, and come up with a new reason why I can’t hang out with the band.

  Almost thirty years of dedicating my time to a band I love – to writing songs with my best friends, of playing sets every weekend, and refereeing idiotic fights because Luc torments everyone with his jokes – the moment Laine’s life turns upside down, I ditch my friends and become the guy they’ll hate.

  Not only am I ditching, but I’m ditching for Luc’s little sister.

  There are rules about that. There are rules that don’t need to be etched into stone.

  Little sisters are off limits!

  It doesn’t matter that I haven’t touched her.

  It doesn’t even matter that she has no clue I want her more than I want my next breath.

  What matters is that, in my mind, I’ve laid claim. I
n my mind, I’ve thought about her silky flesh in my bed. I’ve thought about what she’d look like beneath me, what her hair would feel like on my bare chest, what her plump lips would taste like, and how it would feel to rest my hand over her heart to feel it racing for me.

  In my mind, I’ve dedicated myself to her like we’re in a committed relationship.

  The problem lies in the fact she has no clue of my feelings, and if I do something about it, I become a villain in her story. If I make a move, I become the villain that takes advantage of a girl who’s only just coming out of her shell after a traumatic, life-changing experience.

  But even knowing it’s wrong, I send the text to Scotch. I won’t be practicing with the guys tonight. Or tomorrow night.

  Or any time in the near future.

  Because for as long as Laine works on the Buick in the garage and doesn’t lock me out, I’m going there.

  I’m going to stand with my shoulder against hers, and I’m going to help her work on an engine that I continue to sabotage just to buy us more time. For as long as her hair dangles over her shoulder and tickles my hand when we’re leaning close, for as long as she opens the garage door and grins the way she did when we finally got Luc’s bike back together…

  I love my brothers, and I never expected to be the kind of guy that’d ditch for a girl, especially a girl I’m not even with, but whether I love them or not, I love Laine’s smile so much more. I’m willing to trade anything for more of those.

  Even my brothers.

  I park in Kane’s driveway and climb out of the Charger the same as I’ve done every day for weeks. The neighbors probably assume I live here. I pocket my cell and close the door, and with a new song in my head, a new tune writing itself for the girl locked up in her protective bubble, I knock on the steel door and grin when I’m not met with a startled cry or banging tools.

  Instead, I’m met with an excited squeak, running feet, and clanging chains.

  Hell if I’m not curious.