CHAPTER 25

Ben

“Okay, I think I’m ready now.”

I turn around and watch Isla walk down the hall toward me.

“Ready for what, babe?”

When I woke up this morning I was surprised I’d even slept. I managed to sneak out of bed, without waking the girls, grabbed my phone from the nightstand—no calls— and made a beeline for the coffee maker. It already had a full pot, courtesy of Al, who was sitting at the counter.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, when I took my first hit of caffeine. “The fire and explosion were intentional, but your sister? I’m pretty sure that was an accident. I want to bet the target was my niece.”

“I would agree.”

The old man stared silently into his cup, before raising his eyes.

“Need you on the ball, Son. She’s all I’ve got left.” His voice was thick with emotion, and he had to clear his throat to continue. “Ginnie—she doesn’t know who I am, and there’s little left of her I recognize. I’ve already made my peace with that loss. But, boy, something happens to my girl, I swear it’ll be the death of me. And I’ll welcome it.”

All I could do was reach over and squeeze his shoulder. I heard him; I got what he was saying. You can’t control what is in the past, but you sure as hell can try to get a bead on what’s ahead.

I called the hospital right there, needing to know how my sister had gotten through the night. As soon as I was told she was stable, I shifted my focus ahead. So I called Neil.

That’s who I just saw out the door.

I open my arms and Isla walks right in.

“Did you sleep?” she asks, apparently forgetting her earlier question as her eyes scan my face. I kiss her good morning before answering.

“I snuck in between you two,” I admit, smiling down at her. “I slept. Is Makenna...?”

“She’s still asleep. I left the door open so I can hear her and she can hear us when she wakes.”

“Stacie’s stable,” I tell her. “I called earlier; she got through the night without any incidents.”

“Are we heading to the hospital?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, and I watch surprise register on her face. “I was just showing Neil out.”

“I thought I heard him.” She nods, as if to bolster herself. “Which brings me back to what I said earlier. I’m ready to know what happened. I want to know everything, and I know you’ve been keeping stuff from me. I’ve heard the whispers; I’ve seen the glances. I know you’ve let my uncle in, and I understand why, but I need to know what we’re up against as well.” She closes her eyes briefly and breathes in audibly through her nose, before looking up at me. “Cause as I see it, what happened yesterday shouldn’t have happened to Stacie—it was supposed to happen to me.”

Isla

The girl is killing me.

Before I had a chance to get what I was looking for from Ben, Mak came tearing out of the bedroom, with panic in her eyes. Ben scooped her up and calmly reassured her that her mom was doing okay.

“Get yourself a coffee,” he said to me over her shoulder. “I’ve got her.” And disappeared back into our bedroom with her.

When they resurface fifteen minutes later, Mak is dressed, it looks like her face has been washed, and she’s clinging to her uncle’s hand.

“Hop up, girl.” Uncle Al pulls out a stool for her and Ben swings her up. “Why don’t I get us some breakfast going, while these two,” he waves his hand between Ben and I, “get themselves ready for the day.”

“I’m not really hungry,” she says in a tiny little voice.

“Nonsense. You just wait until you get a whiff of my famous scrambled eggs with liver and onion. You won’t ever want anything else for breakfast again.”

I can’t hold back the chuckle when I see Mak’s face simply blanch. He used to tease me like that all the time.

“He’s kidding,” I whisper in her ear. She’s starting to look really panicked when he dives into the fridge.

“Maybe I’ll just have oatmeal,” she whispers, looking for a rescue from Ben.

“You’d rather have oatmeal than liver?” Al turns to face her. “How about those oatmeal pancakes Isla was talking about. Think we should give those a try?” That earns him a smile and an enthusiastic nod.

Ben kisses her head, grabs my hand, and drags me down the hall. In the bedroom, he leads me to the side of the bed and pats the mattress.

“Sit, Pixie.”

So I do. I sit down clasping my hands in my lap, because despite the fact I’ve asked for what is coming, I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it. Ben sits down beside me, looking at me, and I know he’s waiting for me.

“Tell me,” I whisper.

In his deep, raspy voice, he lays out the parts of the past few days I was in the dark on. The video, with Ben’s assurances it wasn’t his hairy ass featured. Then he tells me about the violent attack on the couple he had visited in Durango—Jahnee’s parents.

I have to swallow hard when he informs me the man did not survive, and her mother just barely. My heart aches for that woman, already dying of cancer, only to have your own flesh and blood turn violent against you. The irony is bitter. I can only hope her suffering won’t be long and that she may still find some peace in death.

Finally he fills me in on both the official findings of arson and the measures put in place for our—or rather, my—safety.

“Are you sure it was her?” I ask, but then I shake my head. I know better. Deep in my gut, I know. “Never mind that.” I hold up my hand when Ben starts to answer. “That was supposed to be me.”

“Don’t go there, Isla,” Ben cuts me off. “If you’re trying to take responsibility, you’re gonna have to get in line.” He cups my face in his big hands. “Trust me on that.” I try to read his eyes and see nothing but sincerity there.

It makes me feel only marginally better, but there’s part of me that wonders if I maybe should’ve known about the video before. I can’t help think that, as a woman, I might’ve seen the aggression in that, whereas the men likely waved it off as only an annoyance.

“So what now?” I want to know.

“Now we’re going to lay low. There’s a chance she thinks she’s accomplished what she wanted and will try to connect with me at some point. I’d like to keep her thinking she was successful, which means keeping you out of sight, just in case she’s watching.”

“What the hell does she think is going to happen? That she can just walk up to you and you’ll declare your undying love for her?” I snap, suddenly angry at the situation.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to try out what someone, who’s clearly out of their mind, is thinking, but I promise you that everything is being done to locate her before we find out.” Ben tries to soothe me, but I’m still bristling. “Neil’s boss, Gus, that’s the guy from the hospital last night, is technically working for the FBI on this. It helps that both Damian, and Gus, have strong ties to local law enforcement.”

“And Neil this morning?”

“Alarm system. He took some measurements and is coming back this afternoon to install it.”

I slump my shoulders. Here I was, thinking this would be our haven, our sanctuary, and instead it sounds like it’s becoming our prison. Ben drapes his arm around my shoulders and tugs me close.

“I need to know you and Mak are safe when I’m not here.”

“What about you? What about you being safe? Or Stacie? Have you thought about that?”

“There’s extra security at the hospital. Stacie is taken care of. As for me, she’s not out to hurt me—she’s out to have me.”

I look up at the most beautiful, gruff-looking face, with the warmest, ice blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I know,” I confirm with a calm I don’t feel. “That’s what scares me.”

-

“When can I see Mom?”

I look up from my computer, where I’m playing around with some edits.

“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” I tell Mak honestly.

She’s been so patient all morning, with just a minimal explanation as to why we were stuck inside. Thank God for Netflix and family movies. I just don’t know what to tell her. The guys, Neil, Ben, and my uncle, are all outside laying out something called a perimeter protection system. Not sure what it is, but it’s supposed to alert us to anyone coming within fifty yards of the house.

“Want to help me put some dinner together? Maybe when your uncle comes in, he can give you a better answer.”

I know Ben ended up telling Mak a little. Just that there is a person out there who is out to hurt the people he loves, and that is why we have to stay inside. She seemed to take it in stride and allowed me to distract her with the big screen TV for a little.

Atsa had passed up on being Mak’s shadow the moment the guys went outside. He’s been out all afternoon as well after Uncle Al picked him up from Jen’s.

“Okay,” Mak says, getting up from the couch and following me into the kitchen. “But can we make tacos? It’s Tuesday.” I grin at her poor attempt at an innocent look.

“We’re gonna have to make our own tortillas though, because I don’t have any ready-made.”

“You know how?”

“Sure do. It’s pretty easy, I’ll show you.”

That’s how we stay busy, and distracted, the next hour and a half until we hear the front door open.

“Whatever you’re cooking, I’m staying for dinner,” Neil says, the first to walk into the kitchen, with a big smile on his face.

“We’ve got enough,” Mak says, a little blush on her cheeks from hanging over the stove, or maybe not. It would appear Neil’s charm works on any age.

“Did you cook?” he asks her, and she eagerly nods her head. “Well, in that case, sign me up for a double serving.”

“Must you flirt with everything that sports twin x-chromosomes?” Ben walks in, shaking his head at Neil.

“Actually,” he answers, with his index finger up. “Interesting bit of trivia for you; did you know there are men with two x-chromosomes and women with a y-chromosome?”

I chuckle as I watch Mak’s eyes grow big and bounce between the two men.

“I don’t even want to know,” Ben says, raising his hands. “All I know is I need you to back away from my niece.”

Ben

It’s the look in Mak’s eyes that has me fold.

We’ve just finished eating when she hits me with the request to see her mother. Although I’m able to tell her Stacie seems to be stable, as per my last call to the hospital, I can see it’s not enough.

“Okay, honey,” I give in. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It takes a bit of logistic maneuvering, but in the end Neil offers to stay with Al and Isla, when I bundle Mak in the Toyota. She’s uncommonly quiet during the drive, and normally I’d welcome the lack of chatter, but at this time it just makes me uncomfortable.

“What’s going through your head, girl?” I finally ask her. I quickly glance over at her profile and notice her lip is quivering. “Honey? You can tell me.”

“What will she look like?” The quiver sounds through in her voice, and now I’m questioning whether this was a good idea.

I swerve off the road, stop on the shoulder, and put the car in park. Turning my body toward her, I reach out and brush at the single tear running down her cheek.

“I know she’ll have to grow back that pretty hair of hers,” I start carefully. “And she’ll probably have a lot of bandages and maybe even some wires and tubes coming from her body, but the thing you need to remember is that underneath all that, it’s still your mom. Her outside may not look the same but, baby, I promise you, the size of her heart, the light in her soul, and most importantly, her love for you have not changed. Not even a bit.”

“Promise?” Her chin wobbles even harder, and I wrap both arms around her, tucking her head under my chin.

“Cross my heart, Makenna. Cross my heart.”

-

“Sorry, sir, there’s no kids allowed in the ICU.”

I glare at the gray-haired nurse at the desk, but her gaze doesn’t falter, and I know I’m in for a battle.

“What do you mean there’s no kids allowed in ICU? This is her mother, you can’t be telling me she can’t see her only parent?”

“Sir,” the old hag hisses, as she leans closer. “The ICU is no place for children, besides, her mother is not exactly looking her best.” She tries, but fails miserably, to keep her volume low so Mak, who’s standing by my side, won’t hear. I take in a deep breath, attempting not to lose my temper in front of my niece, before I answer.

“You’re absolutely right, it is no place for children. Problem is, her mother is in there, which makes it the absolute right place for my niece to be. Secondly, if you think for one second that her imagination is not far worse than the reality of what her mother might look like, you are delusional.”

In the end, I failed as well. My voice clearly had raised enough to draw the attention of the doctor, who’d been in the operating room with Stacie yesterday.

“What seems to be the problem?” she asks, walking up to the desk, with a gentle smile for Mak and a stern look to me, before she turns her attention to the nurse. “Carol?”

“I’m trying to explain no kids are allowed in the ICU.”

“I’m afraid that’s true,” the doctor says with an apologetic smile, before dropping her eyes to Mak, who is burrowing into my side. Then she leans over the counter and says to the nurse, under her breath, “I’m afraid Mr. Sparrow in room 302 has soiled himself. Could you please...?”

Carol takes in a sharp breath, flicks her eyes back and forth between me and the other woman, and finally with a big huff, gets up and stomps down the hall.

“Better come with me, quick,” the doctor holds out a hand to Mak. “Let’s go see your mom before the gatekeeper gets back.”

Mak looks at me and I give her a little nod, before she accepts the hand offered.

-

“Thank you,” I mouth to the doctor when she moves to the door. She took her time to explain to Mak exactly what all the beeping machines, tubes, and hoses were for. It helped her get over her first shock of seeing Stacie, or what is supposed to be Stacie, lying in that bed.

There’s little recognizable, between the bandages and the swelling.

“You’re right, Uncle Ben,” Mak suddenly says, standing beside Stacie’s bed, running her fingers over the hand that is not covered in wrappings. “Look.”

She carefully turns her mother’s hand over and points to the little four-leaf clover my sister had tattooed on the inside of her wrist, in her college days.

My eyes burn when Mak leans over and gently kisses the only recognizable part of her mother.

That stupid little clover.