She mentally pushed it away for now. With dishes, her podcast to plan for, and the new baby clothes she’d purchased today, she had enough on her plate. They could discuss it when he came back in.
It neared ten o’clock when she smoothed the little onesies into neat little piles. Just generic little underthings, but oh, how tiny. They wrenched her with the thought of such a small person being in her care. Frightening even.
She glanced at the clock, exhaustion reminding her of the late hour. What was Ake doing out there? He had to be freezing.
With a tiny garment wrapped in her hands, she made her way to the garage door. But when she opened it, only her car rested there in the dark. She flipped on the switch. Everything in its place. Weird.
She shut the door firmly and made her way to the front of the house. But once she poked her head out into the cool night, she knew he was nowhere to be seen. Her glance rose to the hill. At Pops? He hadn’t mentioned it being his night to stay.
A deep breath pulled the refreshing air into her lungs as she stepped out into the moonlight. Only one way to find out. The clouds drifted across the dark spring sky with a wisp, threading their way across the moon. Then a larger one trailed in and blocked the bright orb completely. Stormi shivered and hurried to the back door.
Her taps on the window pane of the door echoed through the eerie night. She was afraid to grab the doorknob in case she set off the alarm. The lights were out, too. Why hadn’t she brought a flashlight? The porch light to her left flicked on, and the door opened. There stood Ake, sleepy-eyed.
“Yeah?”
She stared at him. Was he serious? “Are you staying here tonight?”
He nodded.
“Oh. Okay.”
The door slid shut and the locks clicked into place. Her breath froze in cloudy puffs that enveloped her. Something wasn’t right in Denmark.
She retraced her steps to the house and let herself in. Everything would be cleared up in the morning. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent nights with his dad before, it’s just he usually told her. She shrugged. Perhaps he was still miffed she hadn’t returned earlier.
Once snuggled into her pajamas, she climbed into bed and set her phone on the end table. At least she’d have the whole bed to herself. She tossed. Then rolled over. Numerous body adjustments later, she sat up. Having the whole mattress wasn’t as comforting as it used to be.
Time became a monster that mocked her in red digits. 10:46. 10:47. 10:48. Okay, count. One, two, three, four…one thousand and thirty-seven, one thousand thirty-eight, one thous—stop. Obviously it wasn’t working. 11:23. 11:24. Stare at a light spot in the room and don’t allow your eyes to close. Her eyes began to water and ache. Oh, for pity’s sake. It wasn’t a juvenile staring contest. Fine. Just listen to the sounds, don’t think.
11:59. Blink, blink. Thoughts boomeranged around her head until her heart beat rapidly. Get a drink. Pee. Ahhh. Better. Any second now, sleep would come. Like at this very moment. Or…now. No, really, NOW.
12:23.
She flipped the blankets from her legs and swung them to the floor. Ake. She missed Ake. Something was not right. A deep breath did nothing to calm her. She rose and walked through the house, peeking out the window toward the hill, but the house was shrouded in blackness.
Fine. She’d get up and do something useful. She meandered to the extra bedroom across the hall. Podcasts. She could finish up a few and have a little extra time during the day. The frumpy bun wobbled, reminding her of her unkempt appearance. No worries. A comb through the hair and a shirt thrown on would give the appearance of a perfectly manicured professor.
She hurried to her bedroom and completed her task and returned. After settling into the chair in front of her laptop, she organized her materials around her on the desk. Such a nice area to complete her courses. Better than her old “apartment-slash-old garage.” Her eyes went to the velvet covered table with an assortment of beads. Ake. She inhaled.
Alan would quote something about here. Something about sleeping and unresolved conflict, or some other stinking wise mush. She shrugged. Which clash should she address first? A barrage of people pounded her brain for attention. Hoge, Marla, Mother, the baby, Pop, Alan, Ake? She groaned. Ake. Precisely why she couldn’t sleep.
With a shake both mental and physical, she stared at the screen. “Beginning on page forty-one of your syllabus, you will see the topic of discussion.”
Once in professional mode, she completed three more podcasts and logged off. Dandy. That opened up all kinds of time. She glanced around the room for a clock, and then realized this was the one place in the house that didn’t have one. Hmmm. Something very profound tugged a sleep smile to her face. A place without time. She stretched and yawned and made her way to the master.
Reality thumped like a pitchfork handle to the head. 2:47. Her phone buzzed. Maybe Ake. Perhaps he couldn’t sleep either. Thank goodness. She hurried to the bedside table and settled on the side of the bed.
Nope. Marla. Why hadn’t she deleted her number from her phone? This was the third call today. Well, no time like the present, in the corridor of darkness. She thumbed through the selection until she’d pulled up Marla’s number. The digits glared from the screen. Her hand hesitated. Hussy. Vindictive witch. Traitor, turncoat, Napoléon, Jezebel. The mental thesaurus wouldn’t shut down. She snickered when Torie came to her head. At least Mr. Dart from History 101 would be proud.
Her lips compressed into a scowl. Just erase it. Delete her from your life. With a deep breath she…froze. A call lit up her phone again. Marla.
The phone buzzed in her hand. Why? Why was she calling over and over? Stormi groused out a few imaginary replacements for naughty words and stood, pressing the green answer button.
‘What?” The word left her lungs in a shout.
“Oh, Stormi, Stormi.”
Stormi could barely recognize her old friend’s, or rather, fiend’s voice through the sobs. She clenched her molars and narrowed her eyes in the dark room. Why had she answered? “What do you want, Marla?”
“Please help me. I’m trapped.”
She and Marla had played a lot of tricks. A ton. Prey on the weak; devour the poor. Probably another stunt. Marla screamed and pounding became evident in the background.
“Please, Stormi. There’s like twenty of them.”
“Twenty who?”
“Johns.” A wail wavered over the line.
Was Marla shooting straight? Or luring her into a trap? “Where are you?”
“Giovanni’s party house.”
A sharp breath made Stormi pause. “In Boston?”
“Yes. Please. I think I can crawl out the back window. Hurry.”
Stormi stuttered. “But that’s more than an hour away—.”
Pounding interrupted her and Marla gave a whimper. “I beg you, Stormi. Please help me.”
Thoughts raced through Stormi’s brain while she hurried to the laptop in the guest room. Walking into that type of area of the city was dangerous. Not that she and Marla hadn’t done it before. But this sounded a step more dangerous than college partying. Was Marla really in trouble?
Ake. She could take Ake. Marla whispered the address as Stormi pounded it into the search line. Boston was totally foreign. But her online map would guide her there nice and neat. She backed away from the computer with thoughts of Marla swirling in her head. No. Ake couldn’t go. He had his dad to care for. Hoge? The cringe that contorted her face told her she would never stoop so low.
Okay. Just her. Fab. Well, on the positive side, Ake wouldn’t know until tomorrow. She stood with her ex-best friend begging in her ear. The misdeeds of Giovanni coming to life in Stormi’s head.
She laid the phone down with the tearful voice still sobbing her predicament. Jeans, sweatshirt. Baggy. Layered. Hat. Heavy coat. Too bad she’d ditched her Old woman Halloween wig a few years back. That would be very handy about now.
She stepped out into the dark with her car keys in
her hand. “Please God, let this be for real. Keep us safe.”
With an uneasy shiver, she slid into the car.
***
Ake’s eyes cracked open. Stormi’s car. He sucked in a sharp breath and rolled over to check the clock. She was leaving in the middle of the night. Why would she be—he swung his legs to the floor of the single bed of his childhood. Never in his life would he have pictured himself trying to survive infidelity. Shoot, he never envisioned finding someone to marry. Perhaps he could just fix his mind on that.
He laid his hand on his Bible on the nearby end table. Suddenly the stories of Hosea his mother used to read hit a little too close to home.
He rose. No sleeping now. Best check to see if Pop had managed to step over the empty soda cans he’d strewn in front of his bedroom door. Then pray. Pray that Stormi could choose the right way, embrace her marriage, and actually love him. Pray that he could endure the saga from his front row seat.
***
Stormi glanced toward her phone for the five-hundredth time. The tangle of Boston streets resembled a dizzying bird’s nest. She wiped the film of unease from her lips with the back of her hand. Definitely not her best move leaving behind one of two hulking men in her life. But then, when you brought the big guns, did they get out more ammo? Perhaps it was best she’d come alone. Small and stupid might just creep in and retreat without being noticed. Maybe.
Her car shuddered as a huge truck passed her on the Tobin Bridge. The myriad of lights pulsated like a terrible migraine. Somehow she never imagined grubbing for Marla’s location during her first trip to such a historic city. She shivered as she cleared the Mystic River. Signs flew past. Paul Revere Park, something, something Bunker Hill Bridge. How much farther?
The beauty of downtown ruled the dark sky with the broken patterns of light bathed in a golden light, making her gasp in appreciation. Too bad it couldn’t be enjoyed with a little less adrenaline. She continued to follow traffic, a full fifteen miles above the speed limit just to stay in the flow.
The area turned more commercial, and she turned at the computer generated voice. Public alley? Had they run out of names for streets? The higher the apartment buildings the lower the needle edged on degenerate neighborhood scale. People lined the dirty sidewalks, distorted psychedelic gang names strewn down the buckling brick walls.
Her eyes went up. Shouldn’t there be like a wad of tennis shoes hanging from a wire or something? Her phone friend announced her destination. Stormi pulled into an empty spot between a dumpster and an old white van. She glanced up the brick building.
Wire cages surrounded some sort of metal patios. Several contained cheap plastic furniture. She counted up. Third floor, Marla said. The window with the purple curtain. Access to the fire escape. But how could she utilize the fire escape with the bottom ladder pulled up?
She pinched her lip and prayed. This had better be legit. She yanked the Saturn into reverse. Perhaps she could reach it from the car’s roof. Once she pulled under it, she grabbed her phone. No one knew where she was. Probably not wise. Yet, Ake would be asleep. Waking him would just throw him into protective mode. No. She’d tell him later. The phone tumbled to the passenger seat.
She climbed from the small car and glanced up through the darkness. This is dumb, dumb. Stormi ducked back in and snatched the phone. At least she could call 911. She dialed Marla’s number. It rang and rang while dogs and humans shouted from some distant location.
When the line flipped to voice mail, she slipped the phone in her pocket. With a deep breath, she scaled the hood and slid over the car to the roof. Her fear came in puffed clouds of carbon dioxide. She stood slowly, straining to reach the ladder. Ugh. She would have to jump. Marla had better be about to die.
With a deep breath, an audible prayer hissing past her lips, she leaped. She landed with a groan, the metal rung greeting her neck with a stab of pain. Her sweaty hands clenched the wrought iron sides, while she huffed her breathing to a slower speed. She pressed the bridge of her nose to the black bar and closed her eyes for a second. This was nuts.
But she paused only a moment before climbing higher. It didn’t take long to gain the first platform. She stepped to the stairway that led to the next level. Once there, the purple curtain lay before her, but fear strangled her lungs. The window was wedged up just an inch. Her signal. No turning back now.
She pried her fingers into the opening and yanked up. It gave with relative ease. About here would be where black gloved hands reached through and grabbed her. But nothing happened. She swiped aside the purple curtain. The sight of Marla sprawled on the floor, half clothed, catapulted Stormi through the open window without caution.
Her ex-friend whimpered, and her eyes cracked open as Stormi knelt beside her.
“You came.”
The darkened room, lit with a desk lamp covered with a red scarf, contained only a rumpled bed and a cluttered desk and chair. A strange overwhelming smell permeated the air. Like burnt plastic. “Yeah, not my smartest move. You okay?”
“Am now.”
Stormi grabbed a throw from the bed and covered Marla. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“No. Wait.” Marla begged, her smokey eye makeup and contoured face a smeared mess. “You were right.”
Laughter and thumping music pulsed through the thin door. A loud smack made the door shake. Get her out. Stormi snugged the blanket up around Marla’s bare shoulders. “No time for this. We gotta go. Can you sit up?”
Bony fingers clenched hers, making Stormi pause. She surveyed her childhood friend. Bleached hair in disarray, face contorted in a mask of misery. Marla shook her head with vehemence.
“I can’t move,” she huffed.
Another loud pop sounded against the door. How long before a mob forced their way through the entry? It sounded like a huge frat party on meth laced with steroids. The walls pulsed with the bass line of the music that was loud enough to be a live rock concert. Front row. Stormi scanned her friend. Could she physically climb through the window? “Where does it hurt?”
Her long lashes fell to her cheeks as a grimace shuddered over Marla’s face. “Everywhere. But mostly inside.”
Fear spiraled through Stormi while her thought splintered into possibilities. Think straight. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
“No. It’s not that. It’s me. I can’t live like this anymore.” Raw sobs tumbled from her as she clutched Stormi’s arm.
Sounds faded into the background. Stormi peered deep into Marla’s eyes. Was she too toasted to understand? “You’re right. Welcome to rock bottom, Marla. And the only one who can save you is Jesus Christ.”
Although puzzlement wrinkled across Marla’s forehead, she nodded.
Desperation boiled Stormi’s thoughts to one bare-boned basic. “You’re on your way to hell.”
Chapter Thirty
Tears filled Marla’s widened eyes and spilled down the outside corners. A moan snaked from her in a haunting wail. “I’m already there.”
“No. You aren’t. You think this is bad? This is just a scuff on the gym floor of real hell.”
Marla began to tremble.
Stormi shook her. “But you can change it. You can change it all right now.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she rasped.
“It’s not a lie.”
A sliver of hope threaded through the agony of Marla’s gaze. “How?”
“Ask God to forgive your sins. Acknowledge Jesus Christ as His only Son. Ask Him to be your Savior.”
Marla shook her head, crying louder. “He can’t. You know what I’ve done. You, more than anyone, know what I’ve done.”
Stormi released her and sat back on her heels, never letting her gaze leave hers. “Exactly. Because I was you, Marla.”
Her friend’s lip quivered. “Tell me how, Stormi. If it’s possible, tell me what to do.”
With heads pressed together, Stormi led Marla through a simple sinner’s prayer. The woman, stained with ev
ery sin, begged the Creator of the universe to pardon her. Jesus Christ’s name passed her lips in new awe.
An unexpected calm cloaked the room. Stormi yanked Marla from the floor, clamped an iron arm around her friend’s waist, and staggered toward the window. Someone shoved against the door with a solid shoulder.
“Dear God, keep them out.” At the sound of splintering wood, the warning sirens in Stormi’s skull nearly blared audibly. She shoved Marla’s limp body through the opening, and they clanged to the metal platform outside the building.
The quiet night muffled the disturbing party sounds from inside, and the joy within Stormi blocked the pain of landing on the metal roof of her car. Bear hugging Marla, they slid to the broken concrete.
“Thank you, God. Now speed us away,” she rasped aloud.
Strength surged in Stormi, flinging the door open and tossing her friend to the back seat. Marla groaned, head and shoulder slumping to the floor. A calm message floated into Stormi’s head. No time. Hurry.
Exactly. Nix repositioning or a seat belt. She slammed the door and sank into the driver’s seat. A thick male torso leaned out the window above her, and she shoved the gearshift into reverse.
“Nice timing, Lord.” She floored the gas pedal, and the gangly little car squealed away from the filthy brick buildings. The Boston streets masked them as she sped away.
***
Ake took a deep breath watching the early rays of morning light up the living room and spread across the popcorn ceiling. He had a perfect view from his reclining position on the faithful couch. He’d given up on getting to sleep after Stormi’s car motor had faded into the distance. But Pop was safe, and soon the caregiver would arrive. Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Where’s Mom?”
He drew a sharp breath through his nostrils. Correct or jump in? He chose to jump in. He whipped a leg up and swiftly down to raise himself from his lying position. “She’ll be back soon. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
The Secret Storm Page 24
