Chapter 33

Two weeks later ~

Clara slid out of the booth at the bar and shook hands with the second waitress she'd hired in the last hour, along with a male bartender. "It'll be great to have you at Vavoom's, Maureen."

"Thank you." Maureen inhaled deeply, raising her brows. "I'll be here tomorrow at one-thirty."

"Perfect." Clara walked her to the front door. "We're starting you and Lisa tomorrow, since it's Monday and usually our quietest day of the week. That way you'll get the hang of things and figure out how we run things here and how we cater to the customers. New jobs are always stressful. So, you can enjoy having Tuesday and Wednesday off before coming in on Thursday."

"I look forward to working for you." Maureen waved. "Thank you, again."

Clara smiled and waited until Maureen was on her way down the sidewalk and shut the door, locking it. Grabbing the papers off the table, she walked into the kitchen.

Paxton set a pot up on the top shelf. "All ready to go?"

"Yes." Clara folded the papers in half. "Thanks so much for coming in and being with me while I hired everyone."

She still found herself nervous to go anywhere alone. It'd been two weeks since the accident when Gracie got kidnapped. While Gracie wasn't ready to return to the bar and her arm was still in a cast, Clara had made the lone decision to hire others to open up the bar. They needed the added income. Gracie's insurance came up short for additional therapy, and Clara could subsidize some of the bills if the bar opened again.

"Not a problem." Paxton grabbed his keys on the counter. "My wife has her sister over at the house. They like to scrapbook, so the whole dining room is one big mess. I've learned it's more relaxing to let them have the place to themselves when they get their craft supplies out."

"What a sweetheart." Her laughter fizzled, realizing what word she'd used.

Sweetheart had been Wayne's name for her. The ache in her chest always present, she followed Paxton out the back door and turned to lock the deadbolt with her key. She never thought she'd survive one day without Wayne, much less fourteen.

She found the key for the car and looked up at Paxton. "Enjoy the rest of your day off, Paxton."

"You, too. Ms. Clara. Tell Gracie I miss her." Paxton strode to his truck.

Clara slid into the car and started the engine, following Paxton out of the alley. Once she sped up along the street, the clear plastic covering the passenger window flapped, filling the vehicle with a continual slap-slap-slap. Until her insurance company gave her a check for her totaled car, she was stuck driving Gracie's older car that was broken into.

She went around the block, skipping the intersection where Roy Jenson smashed into them, creating the perfect opportunity to abduct Gracie, while everyone's attention stayed on the accident and her.

If she'd been a minute later or earlier, there would've been a chance that Jenson would've missed his opportunity. It would've given her one more hour, one more day, to tell Wayne what she knew and he could've stopped everything from happening. She dashed away the tear that fell.

She should've told Wayne and given herself time to explain her and Gracie's reasons for making their mother's killer pay. Because she'd waited, she almost lost Gracie, and she lost Wayne.

All the interruptions were excuses she used because she was afraid of ruining things between them. She loved him. Life without him was a painful reminder of how her life had been richer with him by her side. She had her sister, the bar, her life, and she could go on living, but it wouldn't be the same.

Wayne gave her every reason to smile. The goofy feeling that settled over her when his hand always found her lower back. The way he enjoyed his pancakes any hour of the day or night. The way he cupped her butt when they slept. He never became jealous of her relationship with Gracie and respected her need to have her twin in her life.

He'd made her hum.

A hum she'd yet to hear but brought a deep contentment only he gave her.

She flipped her turn signal on and checked traffic, then pulled onto the street for home. Today had been the longest she'd been apart from Gracie since Roy Jenson stole her sister from her. Since the night Wayne took her to the hospital— she'd slept in a cot by Gracie's hospital bed for two nights— she'd stuck by her sister through the recovery. Gracie had yet to get angry or depressed. She'd come home and wrapped herself in safety, taking no interest in going out or what was happening with the bar.

Gracie only went to her therapy appointments twice a week, and Clara went with her and stayed in the waiting room supporting her. Thank God, Roy Jenson never had time to rape her sister or kill her. But Gracie had to listen to the killer describe the moments he'd kidnapped the original 'Barbara', their mom, and how he'd killed her. And, she'd learned that other women were kidnapped over the years as he tried to replicate and mold them into their mother.

The therapist gave Clara the information without the details at Gracie's request. It helped her understand a little about what her sister was going through. But, she knew Gracie better than anyone, and her sister would survive. She was strong.

Clara slowed down and pulled next to the curb in front of the house. She grabbed her purse and stepped out. Since her garage remote was at the junk yard with her totaled car and Gracie's remote was still over at Wayne's house, she couldn't park inside.

Halfway up the driveway, she looked up and dropped her purse. Wayne stood beside his bike, his gaze intense...and annoyed? Upset? Angry?

Unable to draw a breath over the shock of seeing him, she looked at the ground, bent over, and picked up her purse. Her chest heaved as if drowning and Wayne alone pushed her to the surface and she could finally fill her lungs with much-needed air.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" She clamped her lips together, knowing she'd snapped an accusation at him when none of what had transpired was his fault. She'd asked him to stay away.

"Thad said you showed up at the bar this morning. I thought it would be a good time to talk before you go back to work." Wayne tilted his head, studying her. "You got your stitches out."

She lifted her arm and touched the small patch of short hair that had begun to grow back from where they shaved around her wound. He'd changed the subject to throw her off balance.

"What did you need to talk about?" She slipped her purse over her shoulder.

He looked back at the house. "Can we go in?"

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Since coming home from the hospital, she'd followed Gracie's request not to have Notus Motorcycle Club members or Paxton at the house. At first, she'd thought her need to have privacy was because she wasn't feeling well and needed time to heal. In the last several days, she'd started to suspect Gracie was afraid to live her life and it was easier to hide away with no reminders of how much she'd lost.

The doctor had told her to take her time. Gracie had gone through a traumatic experience few people lived through and to watch for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Clara watched over her and would give Gracie time.

"Can we sit on the front step instead?" At his nod, she walked to the front door and stopped. "Just let me tell Gracie I'm home, and I'll come right back outside."

She stepped inside and swung her arm to shut the door, and the door bounced back to her hand. Jerking her arm away, she gasped as Wayne stepped around her and walked into the living room. She rushed over to him and grabbed his vest.

"We need to go out. Gracie doesn't want anyone to come over," she whispered, tugging on the leather material.

"You sure about that?" He walked to the bottom of the stairs as if he wasn't dragging a person behind him by his vest—her.

She refused to let go. "Wayne, stop."

"Gracie," he shouted. "It's Wayne. Can you come down here?"

Clara let go of Wayne. "She's not going to come out of her room if she knows..."

Gracie walked to the top of the stairs, put her good hand on the railing, and without any hesitation, took each step until she reached the bottom. Clara stepped forward to be by her side, and Wayne grabbed her wrist, keeping her beside him. Caught between her twin and the man she loved, she could only stand there and stare at the way they looked at each other.

Wayne moved first when he lifted his arm out to the side. Gracie leaned, rather than stepped, into his embrace. Clara struggled to swallow the emotional tug at seeing, feeling, experiencing, her sister let down her shield and accept Wayne into her space.

Keeping Wayne away for the last two weeks was never about Gracie's need for privacy. Clara needed to let him go. She'd asked him to take someone's life and even if Lieutenant Gomez believed she made the confession because of being scared and worried for Gracie and her emotions came into play when she asked Wayne to kill Roy Jenson, she was coldly rational. She might as well have pulled the trigger herself because she'd planned along with Gracie.

She'd stepped into Wayne's life not to fall in love with him, but have him find their mom's murderer. It was their wish that Wayne would kill Jenson.

It was premeditated murder.

It was murder for hire.

It was a contract hit. Clara and Gracie had ten thousand dollars set aside to pay Wayne for committing a crime.

Gracie lifted her head off Wayne's chest and smiled at him. Clara turned away, blinking furiously to stop the tears from falling. It seemed like months instead of two weeks since she'd seen her sister smile, and Wayne had brought that out of her.

"You saved me," whispered Gracie. "I can't thank you enough for—"

"It was my job." Wayne let go of Clara's wrist and led Gracie over to the couch.

Guilt soured Clara's stomach. Between the three of them, they all knew the truth. She'd hired Wayne to kill.

Clara wiped at her cheeks and turned around, catching Wayne's gaze. He patted the couch on the other side of him, motioning her to join them. She lifted her chin, refusing. To be that close to him and sit beside him in her home would break her.

"I thought it was about time to come over and see how you're doing now that you've had time to get back on your feet." Wayne tapped Gracie's cast. "How's your wrist."

"It's doing better. It seldom aches with it in the cast." Gracie wiggled the fingers sticking out of the purple fiberglass mold.

"That's good. You'll be pouring beers before you know it." Wayne moistened his lips. "Over the years...I've been lucky enough to find a dozen or so missing persons and take them home to their family. For reasons of their own, they'd ran away and needed to be persuaded to return. The ones that involved kidnappings never ended happily. You were the only abduction that Notus successfully completed. I wanted to come over here and talk to you, to let you know when you go back to working at the bar, we'll be there. If you want escorts to the store or get your hair done and Clara's busy, you can call any one of us, and we'll be here for you."

"You'll be at the bar?" Gracie blew out her breath. "Stay at night?"

"Yeah, sure." Wayne stood. "You know our schedule. If you need someone there every night you're open for a while, we will make sure a Notus member is there, too."

Gracie glanced at Clara. She gave her sister a hesitant smile. It was the first show of interest from Gracie she'd received that her sister was entertaining the idea of going back to the bar.

"I, uh, hired two waitresses and a bartender today." Clara only looked at Gracie. "But, I'll be going in until we can trust them to run the bar on their own. When Gracie feels up to going in with me, we can make sure someone is there if she wants. Thank you."

"I just wanted to touch base with you. Glad you're feeling better, Gracie." He leaned down when Gracie lifted her good arm to hug him. When he straightened, he cleared his throat and walked up to Clara. "Come outside with me."

"I should stay with—"

"Now." He placed his hand on her lower back.

Once he touched her with that light pressure, she glided out the front door with him. Frustrated by her inability to break away from Wayne, she kept walking when he stopped and stood out of his reach.

"I really do have things I need to do and Gracie..." She raised her hands. "Whatever that show was about in there is not the way she's been behaving around the house. You can't push her."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she hated herself. Wayne was exactly what Gracie needed. Firm, confident, understanding.

"What's going on with us?" Wayne hooked the tips of his fingers in his back pockets. "I gave you space and time with your sister when I thought it was better if we all kept things normal in our lives to make her feel more secure, and you shut me down. But, it's been two weeks. You won't answer my calls. I'm done, sweetheart."

The crushing pain in her chest only added to the stresses hammering her body. How much more could she take without breaking? She had to remain strong for Gracie.

"Okay." She moved to step around him and go back inside. The night at the hospital when he'd left to go home, and she'd stayed with Gracie, she thought she'd been clear that everything was over.

"Hang on." Wayne caught her arm. "You're just going to walk inside?"

"I've already told you I'm sorry for what I've done to you. Sorrier than you will ever, ever know." She looked up at him. "Asking you to kill the man who kidnapped, raped, and murdered my mom...I can't take it back. With all my heart, doing what I did, I ruined everything between us, and it's something I'll have to live with for the rest of my life. But, I have my sister back, and for that, I wouldn't change a thing."

He let her go. She opened the door and escaped the pain she'd deposited at Wayne's feet.

Gracie still sat on the couch. "Why did you chase him off?"

Clara walked across the room and sat beside her sister. "We're not together anymore, so there's no reason for him to stay."

"When did that happen?"

Clara rubbed her hands over her dry cheeks, having cried more times into her pillow over the last two weeks than she had her entire life. When their dad died, she'd had Gracie to lean on, and she never realized what comfort that brought her. Through Gracie's kidnapping, she'd never felt so alone. During Gracie healing and coming to terms with what happened to her, she hadn't wanted to unload her private life onto her. Gracie had enough on her plate without Clara adding to it.

"The day I asked Wayne to shoot the man who'd kidnapped you. There was no going back once the words were out of my mouth. There's no getting over that. I'd do it again because I have you back in my life. Living without you isn't possible." Clara reached over and rubbed Gracie's thigh. "We're twins."

"How does Wayne feel about everything?"

Clara shrugged. "He said he's done. He's angry, and I don't blame him. I asked him to do something illegal, and he'll live with it the rest of his life and grow to hate me."

"Clara?" Gracie leaned against Clara's shoulder. "Wayne wasn't the one who shot Roy Jenson."

"Yes, he was." Clara pulled away from Gracie and stood. "You weren't there when I begged him and offered to pay him to kill the man who took you. I-I told him we'd planned everything in my panic. A-about how we wanted him to find our mom's killer and how he somehow found us and stole the picture. How he abducted you. Lieutenant Gomez, he...he said Wayne was the one who found you and Roy Jenson was dead when the police arrived."

"I don't know what Wayne told the police, but I swear on my life, sis. Wayne found me and the other Notus members took that man out of the room. It was Wayne who stayed with me in the house. He untied me. Comforted me." Clara swallowed hard. "He saved me, and he did not kill Roy Jenson."

"He didn't?" she said, unable to hear her own voice.

Gracie shook her head. "No."

The room spun. Her legs wobbled. She reached out to grab onto the chair and sunk to her knees on the floor. Vibrations started in her chest and spread. She hugged her waist, holding in the trembles that swept through her.

Wayne hadn't killed Roy Jenson.