“When he gets there, do not talk to him.  Take the burner phone.  Text me as soon as he comes in.”

“We’ve been over this ten times, Dek,” I say with a sigh.  “I’ve got it, okay?”

“I just want you safe, babe.”

For once, my walk to the coffee shop does not bring me joy.  My legs are shaking, and with every step, I check all around to see if I catch sight of the creeper.  Once I get to the shop, I smile at Terry when he waves and head to the employees’ lockers.

It’s early, but people want their coffee early, so there is already a line when I get back out.  Terry asks me how I’m doing, but there is—thankfully—no time to talk about it.  I get lost in making lattes and mochas for a while before we get a bit of a break.

“That was quite a morning rush!”  Terry blows out a breath and rinses one of the blenders.  “Glad that didn’t happen yesterday.  What happened to you anyway?”

“I don’t even know where to start.”  I shake my head.  “A friend of mine…well, she was killed over the weekend.”

“Oh, shit!  I’m sorry!”  Terry sets the blender down and comes over to hug me.

“Thanks.”  I give him a quick hug back.  “As if that wasn’t enough, my husband got arrested, and I was in court when I should have been here.”

“Damn!  What did he do?”

“Nothing.”  The lie comes quite easily to me.  “It was just a mistake.  They released him, but it still took all morning.  I swear—I didn’t even realize what day it was until right before I called you.  I’m glad you didn’t fire me!”

“Nah.”  Terry makes an exaggerated wave with his hand.  “Not for a first time thing.  You’ve always been reliable, and you have a pretty good excuse.  Just remember to call if there’s ever another emergency.”

“Sorry to leave you in the lurch.”

“It’s only coffee.”  Terry shrugs and gives me a reassuring smile.  “I’m just glad you’re okay, and I’m really sorry about your friend.  If you ever want to talk, I’m here for ya.”

We both go back to cleaning up until a couple more people come in.  I take the order and start making the coffee while Terry deals with the next couple.

“That’s the guy you were talking about, right?” Terry says quietly as he slips past me for the milk.  “The one in the dark coat?”

I glance up and see Charlie the Creeper walking through the doorway.  He glances at me and then quickly looks back at the menu.

“That’s the one.”

“Why were you asking about him?”

“He’s been following me,” I say.  “I’ll tell you more later.  Can you take his order?”

“Sure.”

Terry heads to the cash register while I head to the back room to text Deklan.  When I return, Terry is handing the guy his coffee.  He heads to the back of the shop, just like he always does, and shoves his nose inside his newspaper.

I go back to taking orders and pouring flavored caffeine.  Only a couple of minutes pass before Deklan is at the door of the shop.  He scans the room as he enters, pausing as he sees Charlie the Creeper in the back.  Dek glances at me, and I confirm with a nod toward the creeper.

“Who is that?” Terry asks quietly.

“My husband.  That guy has been following me around.”

With long, purposeful strides, Deklan walks up to the guy.

Charlie sees him and immediately drops the paper.  He starts to stand, but Deklan sits him back down with a hand on his shoulder.  He leans over and stares the guy in the face, speaking softly.  I can’t hear what he’s saying, and I’m suddenly terrified he’s going to shoot him right here at my workplace.

“Shit!  What’s he going to do?” Terry asks.

“I honestly don’t know.”

Other patrons are taking note of the exchange between Deklan and Charlie.  One of the hipster regulars pokes his friend in the arm and gestures toward them.  Another customer looks over to Terry—as if he could do something about it.

Deklan stands up straight, and Charlie the Creeper stands as well.  His face is completely white.  Neither of them looks in my direction as Deklan grips Charlie’s arm tightly and leads him out of the shop.

“Dude, your hubby is huge!”  Terry lets out a long whistle.

For a moment, I feel a deep sense of pride.

Yeah—that’s my man.

“He looks like he’s gonna kill that guy!”  Terry laughs nervously.

All my smugness dissipates as I realize Terry might be right.

“I think I should go after him,” I say.  “The line is gone.  Are you good for a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Terry says.  “Don’t be too long.”

“I won’t.”

I toss my apron on the counter and rush out of the shop.  I look around but see no sign of Deklan or the creeper.  I head around the corner in the direction of the apartment and spot Deklan’s Viper parked near the entrance to the alley.  I approach slowly and hear voices.

“You have about four seconds to give me a better answer,” Deklan says, “or I’m going to rip your balls off.”

I peer around the corner and into the alley.  The dumpster used by the coffee shop is up against the brick wall, and behind it, I see my husband.  With him are two men I recognize from our wedding though I never got their names.  They’re holding Charlie the Creeper up against the bricks as Deklan slams a fist into the guy’s face.

Blood spatters as the guy’s nose cracks, and he cries out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Deklan shakes his head slowly.

“Wrong answer.”

The two other men grip Charlie tighter as Deklan grabs him by the hem of his pants and rips them down.  He begins to scream as Deklan reaches down.  I can’t quite see what he’s doing with the dumpster in the way, but I have a pretty good idea.

“No!  Don’t!  Don’t!  I’ll tell you!  I’ll tell you everything!”

“That’s better.”  Deklan nods and takes a step back as the two men release Charlie.

Charlie drops to the ground on his knees, grabbing at his pants and trying to pull them up as he falls.

“I was hired, okay?  I wasn’t going to do anything to her—just watch and report.”

“Report to who?” Deklan circles around and kicks him in his bare ass, sending him sprawling on the concrete.

I have to step back to avoid being seen and to fight against correcting Deklan’s grammar.

“I don’t know!  I just call a phone number and leave a message.”

He starts to scream again, and I peek around the corner to see Deklan dragging him by the hair to a puddle near the wall.  He shoves his face into it and holds him there for a moment.

“Care to revise that statement?” Deklan says calmly as he hauls the guy back to his knees.

One of the men with Deklan leans back against the wall and lights a cigarette.  He puffs on it a couple of times before handing it to Deklan.  He holds the lit end up close the Charlie’s eye.

“No!  Please!”

“Give me a name.  Give me a name right now, or so help me God, I’m going to burn out your eyes, blow a hole in your head, and let Mac over here skull-fuck you.”

The guy who lit the cigarette snickers and rubs the front of his pants.

Charlie stares at them both wide-eyed until Deklan slams his head into the puddle again.

“Give me a fucking name!”

Charlie coughs and sputters.  He chokes out a sound, but I can’t tell what he’s said; I can only see Deklan’s reaction.  He goes completely still for a moment.  Then his shoulders flex as he pulls Charlie’s face close to his.  I can tell they are talking but hear nothing.  I strain my ears and take a half step closer, but I’m afraid of being seen.

“Motherfucker,” Deklan mutters as he stands up, drops Charlie to the ground, and pulls out his gun.

“No!  No, please!  There’s more!  I can tell you more!”

“Start talking fast.”  Mac hands a cylindrical object to Deklan, and he attaches it to the end of his weapon before pointing it at Charlie’s head.

I gasp, and Deklan turns his head to see me.

“Goddammit!”  He passes the weapon over to Mac and stalks out of the alley.  He grabs me by the arm and pulls me over to the car, checking left and right to make sure no one is watching us.  “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanted to know what was happening.”

“Tell me how much of that you saw.”  Deklan’s voice is soft and calm, but his eyes aren’t.

“Most of it,” I whisper.

“Jesus Christ, Kera.”  Dek closes his eyes for a second before he pulls me against his chest.  “I never wanted you to see anything like that.”

“Who hired him?”

“Later.”  Deklan holds me at arm length.  “I’ve got to…to finish up here.  You are not going back to work.  In fact, you’re going to quit.”

“Quit?”  I stare up at him, hoping he doesn’t mean what he’s saying.  “I don’t want to quit!”

“Not until you’re safe,” Deklan says, “and you’re not.”

“Who is he, Dek?  Why is he following me?”

“I said later.”  Dek takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and then leans close to me.  “Don’t push me on this, Kera.  Not now.  We’ll talk later, but do not cross me here.  Go back to the coffee place, and tell that guy it’s your last day.  Mac will stay close by and walk you home.  I’ll try to explain then.”

My shoulders sag as I nod.  I don’t want to quit, but I’m not going to fight about it now.  Something is still going on, and I’m not going to get any answers unless I do as Deklan says.

Terry is shocked when I tell him I’m not coming back to work.  He tries to get more information out of me, but I really don’t even know what to tell him.  I finish my shift in silence, and Mac meets me at the door when it’s time to head home.  When I get there, Deklan is on the phone.  He covers the mouthpiece and tosses a suitcase at me.

“Pack,” he says.

“Pack what?”

“Everything.  We’re moving.”

“Moving where?”

“Elsewhere.”  He goes back to his call.  “No, not there…Because it’s too close to the railroad tracks.  I’ll figure it out.  Mac just got here.  I want you and him to go pick up the stuff we moved last week.  I’ll let you know where to bring it tomorrow.”

Deklan looks over at me, sees I’m not doing anything, and then points from the suitcase to the bedroom.  I cross my arms and tap my foot but don’t move.  He rolls his eyes and disconnects the call.

“Pack,” he says again.

“Deklan, why are we moving?”

“Too many people know where we live,” he says.  “The cops have been here.  That guy has followed you here.  Mac has been here now, too.  It’s not safe for you.  We’re moving.”

“And you think I can get all my stuff in this thing?”  I point at the carryon-sized luggage.

“Get what you need for now.  I’ll get the rest after I find a place.”  He drops down on one knee and grabs another suitcase from the back of the closet before turning to Mac.  “Go find Brian.  I’ll call you later.”

“Sure, boss,” Mac says.

“Stop calling me that.”  Deklan glares at him.

Mac just grins and heads out the door as Deklan heads to the bedroom and starts loading the suitcase with clothes.

“What did you do with that guy?” I ask as I follow him.  “You said you would explain later.”

“I will,” Deklan says.  “Later.  Pack!”

“Ugh!”  I grab the suitcase and toss some clothes in it, still grumbling, but I can see Deklan is a man on a mission.  There is no point arguing with him now.

As soon as our necessities are in the suitcases, we leave the apartment.  I’m overwhelmed and feeling pissy about having to quit the coffee shop, so I say nothing as Deklan drives us to a motel just out of town.  He books a room for the night, and I flop down on the bed and glare up at him.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Deklan says with a sigh.  “I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but I swear it’s temporary.  I’ll find a place tomorrow.  I’ll find a really nice one—there are a lot available.  I just need to find the right one.”

“I could help.”

“I really don’t even want you out and about by yourself.”

“And I really just wish you’d tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Deklan puts his hands over his face and rubs his eyes.  He hauls our suitcases over to the chest of drawers and leans against it for a moment, running his hand through his hair.  He stares at me before he sits on the bed, still tugging at the hair on the top of his head.

He needs a haircut.

“Have you remembered anything else about your kidnapping?”

“No, not really.”  I consider accusing him of changing the subject, but I fear he hasn’t.  “I’ve thought about it, and I remember a bit more about you taking me away from the boat, but that’s about it.”

“Do you remember seeing the creeper guy at all?”

“He was involved, wasn’t he?”  The look on Deklan’s face confirms my suspicions.  “Who hired him, Dek?  You have to tell me, and don’t you dare say ‘later!’”

 “I’m pretty sure he was,” Deklan says.  “Exactly how, I haven’t figured out yet.  I was hoping you might remember something else—something I could use against him—but I don’t want to push you.”

“Miss Jolly said she could help me remember if I wanted to.”

“That therapist?”  Deklan wrinkles his nose at the idea.  “I don’t want her in our business.”

“But she said if she hypnotized me, I might remember it.”

“Seriously?”  Deklan shakes his head.  “What a crock of shit.”

“It might work, Dek.”  I sit up and place my hand on his leg.  “I might remember him.  I might remember all kinds of stuff.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Deklan mumbles.  “You don’t want to remember.  You’ve said that many times.”

“Maybe it’s different now.”

“What’s different?  What could possibly make you want to remember it now when you have kept that shit out of your head for years?”

I think carefully before I answer.

“I kept it out because I didn’t want it to interfere with my life.  I didn’t want to dwell on bad memories.  Remembering doesn’t change anything that happened, and not knowing the details might save me some grief.  But now…now it’s interfering with my life anyway.  I’m getting escorted around by some goon; you’re worried, and I can’t even go to work.  If I remembered, maybe I would know who else was involved, and you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

I refrain from saying why Deklan wouldn’t need to worry.  Pointing out that I know he’s going to kill anyone involved isn’t going to make me feel better about remembering.

“If you aren’t worried, maybe I can keep my job.”  I look up at him pleadingly.  “I like my job, Dek.  I know it’s mundane and kind of silly, but I like it.  I don’t want to quit.”

“Even if that means remembering the other shit?” he asks quietly.  “Maybe shit you don’t want to know?”

I think about it for a long moment, but my mind is already made up.  I just want him to know that I’m considering everything before I answer.

“I want to remember, Dek.  I want to remember it all.”