Chapter 25 – Not Unusual

Addy –

I jerk awake, disoriented since it seems I just fell into a restless sleep—the only kind of sleep I’ve been getting for almost three weeks now.

Beeps from the keypad by my bedroom door woke me, but not the alarm sounding. Someone has disarmed my security system. Before my feet hit the floor to investigate, my cell rings from the nightstand.

Looking at the screen, I’m not sure if the name of the caller makes me feel better or not. “Asa, what’s wrong? Did you turn off the system?”

“The sensors went off,” he explains quickly. I can tell he’s moving as he speaks. “The recruits are on their way from Crew’s camp on foot and I need to communicate with them. Someone’s on your property. So far, I only see one, but I’m headed out to look. Stay put and arm your system.”

“Can you see—” I start to ask, but realize the line went dead. He hung up on me.

Once I rearm my system, I run to my bedroom window. I see nothing but the dark of night. I don’t know whether I should stay here or go downstairs. I should’ve asked where they were on my land. Ninety acres is a big area. What if it’s more than one person? Asa only has his four recruits—do they even know what they’re doing yet? Then again, I don’t even know what they’d do if they did know what they were doing.

I throw on a robe and decide to go to the main floor. I can’t see anything from way up here—the moon isn’t even out tonight.

Twenty-five minutes later as I pace the hallway by the front door, my ringtone breaks through the silence. It’s Asa and I ask immediately, “Are you okay?”

“Open your front door,” he growls.

After disarming my system, I turn to my antique door and when I swing it open, six men are at the bottom of my steps. Asa’s standing to the side with three others. He’s holding huge cans in each hand by their handles. I immediately smell gasoline, but can’t even think what that means. My eyes move to the left and I recognize him immediately.

It’s the guy Crew was battling it out with on the mats over a month and a half ago, Jarvis. His hair is longer now, and this time he’s wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, and tennis shoes without socks, but I know for a fact it’s him. He’s even more built than I remember, every muscle on display is flexed, tense, and bulging since he’s got another man, smaller than the rest of the group, in a hold so tight, it looks painful.

I throw my hand out in front of me and I’m breathy when I ask, “Who’s this?”

“We were gonna ask you the same thing,” Asa says, looking over to the captive who just groaned when Jarvis roughly yanks his arms farther up his back.

“I don’t know who he is.” I shake my head because all the men in front of me are looking up at me for answers.

“We found all this on him,” Asa says, jerking his chin to one of the three guys standing next to him.

One of the recruits holds out his hands, showing me a flip lighter, cell phone, box cutter, and my eyes widen when I see a handgun. The recruit tosses it to the ground out of reach, and looks up to me with a look mixed with boredom and disappointment. “He was easy to catch.”

Huh. I wonder if he’s disappointed he didn’t get to kill anyone?

I don’t get the chance to ponder this this because Jarvis throws him to the ground. Not expecting it, the captive lands face first on the stone of my walkway. Jarvis doesn’t stop there. His foot follows the guy down, landing in his side when he demands, “Who the fuck are you?”

A groan emanates from the crumpled body as he rolls into himself when Asa warns, “Watch it, Jarvis.”

Now that I think about it, Jarvis is a strange name. I wonder if it’s required to have an odd name to be recruited to the killers?

Jarvis doesn’t heed his warning. He leans down and yanks him up by the back of his shirt, looking into his bloodied face where he raises his voice. “What’s your fucking name?”

The guy groans again, holding his midsection and mumbles, “He said this would be easy.”

“Who said that?” Asa asks, stepping closer.

“I just needed to make some extra money, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” the guy keeps on.

“Listen, fucker,” Jarvis jerks the guy around again. “I’ll beat you bloody ‘til you tell us your worthless fucking name. You’ve got two beats to spit it the fuck out.”

“D-Dan,” he stutters. “Dan Smithson.”

“Why were you pouring gasoline on the vines?” Asa asks.

“What?” I scream and start down the steps to them. “He poured gasoline on my vines?” I look at the contents of his pockets and realize what almost happened tonight. When I do, I look right at Dan, lying on the ground and my blood boils. “You were going to burn my vineyard?”

At that, Jarvis pulls his arm back and his fist lands square on Dan Smithson’s jaw.

“For fuck’s sake, control it, Jarvis,” Asa mutters and comes over to block my way so I don’t get too close. Asa takes out his phone and messes with the screen as he looks down to Dan. “Who were you talking about? Who said this would be easy?”

Dan doesn’t answer, but Asa starts talking into the phone, I guess to nine-one-one, but who knows. Maybe he called some secret society these killers have on speed dial. I do know he reported a trespasser and talked a little about arson.

When he gets off the phone, he looks back at Dan. “You’ve got the time it takes for the police and fire department to get here to tell us who the fuck you’re talking about. If you don’t, I’ll let Rambo here loose on your ass.”

Bruised, bloodied, and in pain, Dan all but gives in when he looks up to us. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears.

“McCann. Tobin McCann.”

*****

I cannot believe he went as far as he did, but after investigations by the police and speaking to the ABC, Health Department, and the IRS, it’s confirmed. Tobin McCann was responsible for everything, calling in anonymous tips that were nothing but lies. All the hell my sweet little vineyard has gone through the last few weeks has been at the resentful and wretched hands of a man who wasn’t given what he wanted. And like a spoiled child, he threw a fit.

Although, his fit was in the form of false allegations and attempted arson. Local Sheriff’s Deputies paid him a visit yesterday and I was told he initially refuted everything. But thanks to Dan-Dan the Pay-Off Man, not to mention further information from all the agencies who have caused havoc the last few weeks, he requested counsel, refusing to answer any additional questions without his lawyer present.

Lucky for me, Asa and his killers got to Dan-Dan the Arson Man before he could do any real damage. He was only able to spread gasoline on a half row of vines—it could’ve been worse.

Morris and I were worried what the chemicals would do to the soil. First thing the next morning, we hired a hazmat crew to clean it up properly. I hope they got to it in time and the ground hasn’t been contaminated, but we’ll need to test the soil in months to come. We’re close enough to harvest at this point, Van and Morris thought it smart to reap the contaminated row, and a few surrounding it immediately, just in case. Van said he’ll use that batch to experiment with some new ideas.

Clara had many choice words about the situation, going on about Tobin’s mommy and how she probably wasn’t happy about spending her money on his defense, when really, he was just sore he couldn’t get in my pants. Of course Bev was sad for Dan-Dan the Misguided-Man, saying he was young and had a lapse of judgment. I’m just glad she didn’t see what Jarvis did to him, she’d really feel badly about that. But unlike our sweet, ever-so-positive-Bev, she did not feel sorry for Tobin, rattling off a sting of words I’ve never heard pass her lips. As sweet as her true nature is, she loves Whitetail as if it were her own.

I found out today Tobin has been charged with attempted arson and filing false statements to government agencies. Asa told me he was released on bail and even though Tobin doesn’t seem to pose a physical threat, it was good I was quarantined, just in case.

My attorneys are working at getting all allegations and investigations wiped from our record, which was previously clean as a whistle. I hate that the company I’ve invested everything in—money, time, and energy—had to endure it all. At least it’s over and our slate will be clean. I love my little winery, my employees, and everything that surrounds it. I don’t ever want anything to mar it—it’s perfect just the way it is.

All the drama is coming to a close. Even as my attorneys are wrapping up loose ends I’d like to say I can breathe easy, but I can’t. Just like the last few weeks, Crew is still at the forefront of my every thought, only now I don’t have any other annoyances to distract me.

I’ve done all the internet shopping I can handle. Things are arriving daily by FedEx or special delivery. I kept to the true beauty of my home and went farmhouse, but with an edge. I’ve even cleared out the room off the main hall that faces the back of my property with rolling, hillside views. Next week, I’m expecting office furniture with an industrial look to fill the space. Now I wonder if it was a mistake, but I ordered everything only a few days after Crew left. If he wasn’t on his property with his recruits, he was here, and I wanted to provide a place for him to work. Plus, my room doesn’t have horrendous wallpaper, why wouldn’t he prefer to work here?

Call it a ploy—or desperate measures, whatever—to keep him as close to me as possible.

But now, after him being gone for weeks, I’m afraid I should’ve waited. If he doesn’t come back, I’ll never be able to walk in that room.

“You okay?”

I look up from where I’m picking at my late dinner in the kitchen and see Asa standing in the doorway.

“Sorry.” I stand to clean up my half-eaten meal. “Just tired.”

My back is to him while I’m at the sink cleaning dishes when he continues. “This isn’t unusual, him being gone this long. It can take longer sometimes.”

I turn to him but stay where I am. The last few weeks have gotten to me, worrying about Crew and dealing with my headaches. I’m tired and I’m done being polite. “I don’t think there’s anything usual about this, Asa. Crew is somewhere in the world making sure Grady doesn’t get killed while Grady tries to kill someone else, and even though I know this bit of information, I can’t know anything else. There’s a secret sect of soon-to-be killers training next door, and I have cameras and sensors surrounding me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for them. My property would’ve burned to the ground otherwise, but still, it’s weird. If all this isn’t unusual, Asa, I don’t know what is.”

He shakes his head and looks at me like my rant didn’t affect him in the least. “You might not’ve signed up for it in the beginning, but if you want to be with Crew, this is your new usual. Your new normal. I’ve been at this a long time, Addy. I know you’re not used to this life, but you can be—you’ll have to be—if you want him. Take it from me, my wife walked away choosing not to live it with me. She might be a good woman, but that also means she wasn’t the right one. The choice is yours, but make it quickly for Crew’s sake. I was only trying to make you feel better. I wish I could say something to comfort you, but I haven’t been in contact with the CIA. We don’t call each other just to chat, not that I’d tell you anyway.”

He’s sort of taken my breath away. I chose Crew when I thought he was done with his job, I never thought about having to make the choice now that he’s gone back. Is it really even a choice at this point? I don’t think it is. I think I might have to get used to a new normal with Crew, because the other option is too painful to think about.

Putting my dishes in the dishwasher, I turn to him and lay it all out there. “I guess I do have a decision to make, but right now you’re not my favorite person, Asa. As long as you have nothing to say to me, I can only assume he’s okay. But the second you look my direction, I get the dreaded feeling you might end my dream by telling me something I’m afraid to hear. I hate to be rude, but it’s the truth.”

He narrows his eyes and nods once. “Don’t know what to do about that Addy. I told him I’d be here and make sure you’re safe. It’s hard to ignore you when I’m sleeping in your house and eating in your kitchen. I’d hate to be,” he pauses and tips his head, “rude.”

I take a big breath and shake my head at him throwing my words back at me. I move for the door and say when I walk past him, “I’m grateful you’re here, but I look forward to the day I don’t cringe when you walk into a room or dread you speaking to me.”

I hear him chuckle and turn to look at him. There’s a sparkle in his hazel eyes when he responds, “You’re not the first woman to say that, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

He’s a frustrating man.

“Goodnight, Asa. I’ll look forward to not talking to you tomorrow,” I call without looking back.

“Addy,” he calls for me. Stopping, I turn to look at him. “Told you I can’t say much, but I will tell you to stop with the internet searches.”

My eyes go big, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“Yeah.” He’s serious when he confirms my thoughts, telling me someone found out I was looking up Sheldon and Marc. “Bad guys can be smart, too. Not often, but sometimes.”

Holy shit. That’s scary. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. As I make my way out of the kitchen, I hear him digging through my refrigerator. I guess someone hacking into my internet doesn’t suppress his appetite, but I’m sure I’ll never be able to sleep now.

*****

My feet hit the floor in the pitch dark. After the last time this happened, my heart speeds, but this time I don’t wait for my phone to ring. The beeps from my alarm being disarmed once again broke through the night like a scream.

I don’t bother grabbing a robe. In my cotton nightie, I head for my door and race down the first set of stairs. When I round the hall to the second floor staircase, I hear the clunky mechanics of my door clink, and I make it down the last set of stairs just in time to see him step through.

I vaguely notice Asa standing in the doorway to the living room where he’s been sleeping.

But I only have eyes for Crew.

I run halfway through the corridor to get to him, but something about him makes me stop. He’s back to the way he used to be, a complete contradiction of emotions. He’s loose—standing in my doorway casually as if he’s back from an errand fetching milk. His beard is thicker and his hair longer, but my breath catches when I see the bruise on his left temple, seeping out over his eye, and cut on his lip.

Even taking in the fact something happened where he had to defend himself, it’s his eyes that stopped me in my tracks.

They’re piercing and heated, and I hate to admit it, even anguished. There’s an underlying pain making my heart clench, and the look on his face scares me more than anything during the past weeks.

I don’t call out to him, ask him what’s wrong, what happened to his face, or even go to him like I want. And I want to. I need to touch him, make sure he’s okay, that he’s real.

However, I stop when I hear Asa ask, “Grady?”