The lack of lunch crowd was a relief. Amber used the time to organize their stock room, keeping busy to occupy the direction of her thoughts. Jacques had let her change shifts with Fran, so she could be there when Evangeline got home from school. Though her daughter put on a cheerful front, anxiety churned beneath it at the thought of seeing the girls from the party, and especially Pearl. But off she went, a stoic trooper, every bit the image of her mother. Some days being them was a dreadful burden to bear.
Maybe they didn’t have to.
A subtle whisper goaded with an increasingly louder voice. The fact that her objections grew fainter didn’t frighten her quite so much this morning.
A sudden rush of business distracted her from those musings as a dozen or so Patrol members, in a strangely subdued mood, settled at a table. There was no conversation as she approached.
“What can I get you, fellas?”
“Shots and a coupla pitchers. Keep 'em coming.”
Her brows soared. “Kinda early in the work day, isn’t it?”
T-Ray sighed heavily. “Not today. We’re going to bury one of our own.”
Her pulse jumped, noting Rico’s absence. He’d become a regular in their midst. “Who?”
“Not your boyfriend,” he assured her, granting a feeling of relief so strong, Amber didn’t think to deny the term. “But your friend’s damned lucky we aren’t saying words over him, too.”
That nudged several affirmatives but no further explanations, so Amber reluctantly went to fill their order, balancing a large tray on her hip as she set down the pitchers and doled out glasses large and small. A few murmured thanks but no further information, so she returned to the bar to anxiously polish the already-gleaming surface.
Did it have something to do with Augie? She couldn’t dismiss as just a coincidence Rico’s odd request for his number the previous morning. Hands unsteady, she pulled out her phone, the first call to Auguste going right to voice mail. She left no message, quickly connecting to Rico’s number. The sound of his voice weakened her knees.
“I’m not here. You know what to do.”
The beep caught her unprepared. She stammered, “Hi. Your Patrol friends are here at work and they said there was some trouble.” What could she say? “I’m half out of my mind with worry? Please tell me you’re okay!” She settled for a brief, “Call me when you get a chance. I’ll be home around three.” She disconnected before babbling something foolish and emotional. Like, “I can’t lose you before I tell you how I feel!”
She kept herself busy, refilling and worrying until she returned with an empty tray to see she’d missed a call. Brother or boyfriend? Rico. Please let it be Rico.
“Hey. Got your message.”
Her bones went to water.
“I’m tied up right now. Give you a ride home then we need to talk.” That was it.
The Patrol members cleared out to attend their somber duty, leaving generous tips behind. Amber spent the rest of her quiet shift dissecting the meaning behind Rico’s brief message. “Talk” meant questions pushing into personal areas she’d fiercely protected since childhood. Areas of shadowed gray unpleasantness that could endanger her and her daughter and drive him away.
Mia’s advice threaded between fearful whispers.
Tell him. Trust him. If she couldn’t do those two things, there’d be no future with him anyway. A future without him was a dark, empty place she no longer wanted.
Frannie came in, full of energetic chatter as she made her cash drawer while Amber settled her own. Amber glanced up when the other female broke off mid-sentence to see suddenly-gleaming eyes targeting the rear door. Amber braced before following that avid stare.
He’d been hurt. She could tell by his guarded movements and tight expression. Both his hands were crudely wrapped. The abrupt knowledge that a Terriot prince was here for her infused Amber with a sudden sense of awe as she went into the back to get her purse and coat. She found his gaze riveted on her when she returned, his solemn stare, she realized for the first time, the color of gleaming amber, just like her name, rich, warm and filled with mysteries.
“All set?”
She nodded then remembered to thank Fran for taking her slot. Her co-worker’s quirked smile confirmed she knew that ‘just friends’ was a lot of nonsense. A fact Rico reinforced when his palm fit to the curve of Amber’s spine.
The afternoon was gray and nowhere near as inviting as Rico pulling her up tight against him when they settled onto his bike. His tension was as obvious as his purpose as they traversed the streets to her tiny home a scant quarter hour before Evie was due home.
Rico hung his leather coat on a kitchen chair and silently took a seat as Amber got him a cold soda from the fridge. He didn’t open it, his grim attention seemingly fixed on a loose seam in her scuffed linoleum. That gaze flickered up when her palm scooped beneath the softening bristle of his chin whiskers then closed as she bent to softly touch her lips to his. He sighed into that light kiss, eyes remaining shut even after Amber lifted away. Her hand remained, moving in a slow caress along his jaw, feeling it work, tense and strong with something he didn’t want to speak.
So, she started. “Are you okay?” She left that open to pains of body, mind or heart.
His gaze lifted, shrouded with troubles. “A little banged up, but nothing like the one we just buried.”
“I heard. I’m sorry.” When she eased back to take her own seat, Rico caught her hand as it withdrew, enfolding her fingers with his atop the table. “Can you tell me about it?” She kept her question general when she wanted to demand outright if it had something to do with her brother.
Quietly, methodically, he relayed the events of the prior morning, his attention fixed upon their enjoined hands so he didn’t see the building horror in her eyes at the possible tragic end to his bravery. Then his stare rose abruptly, and she saw the damning question in them.
“Amber, I need to know about your brother’s part in this.”
She couched her answer carefully. “I don’t know what I could tell you, Frederick, that you don’t already know.”
“You could tell me if he’d have something to gain by dealing with our enemies.” His fingers clutched tight when she started to pull her hand away. “You’ve told me what he’s done in the past. Is he capable of doing treason now? Was he trying to save my life or his own?”
Indignation flaring, she jerked free. “Don’t you think if I knew my brother was planning to harm or betray you, I’d have said something?” When he remained silent, she added, “If you have to think that hard about it, maybe you need to leave.”
Instead of moving, he argued, “Amber, I’m a pretty good judge of character, and he’s up to something. I just don’t know what. You know it, too, or you wouldn’t be so upset.”
“And you think if I was hiding something like that, I’d let him get you killed?”
His features turned to granite. “I know folks are capable of doing anything to protect their family. I know you’ve covered for him in the past, kept him from facing the consequences of what he’s done by putting yourself and that little girl in harm’s way. I’m not going to let you do that now. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“How would you know?”
He blinked at her harsh tone then admitted woodenly, “I know because that’s what I’m doing now. I’m playing a role to protect my family. Rueben Guedry and my brother Colin cooked up this scheme of me supposedly breaking away from my clan so I could get close to the Patrol, so they might trust me enough to confide in me, so I could find out who’s working with our enemies.”
The significance of his confession settled deep when she considered her part in his ploy. “So, you’ve been using me this whole time, playing on my sympathy to get you on the inside.”
“No. No! Amber, you’ve never been a part of it. Never.”
“Letting me fuss over you, thinking you were abused and abandoned, taking you in.” She sucked a choking breath.
Rico saw the death of all the good things they’d started to share in her stark expression. “I’m being honest with you. It had nothing to do with you up until this minute, so I’m telling you—trusting you—because I care about you and don’t want you caught in the middle if Gus is in over his head.”
“Thank you for your concern,” she bit out, “but I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was Evie’s age.”
“And it’s been one big picnic, hasn’t it? Doing everything alone. Don’t you think I know something about that, too?”
She took a few hard swallows, obviously struggling with what to believe.
“Believe in me,” Rico wanted to shout. But then when had anyone ever done that.
Amber ran a shaky hand across her eyes, saying in a small, strained voice, “You should go. Evie will be home any second, and I don’t want you here.”
“Ever again?” His heart bobbed up at that question.
She checked her phone and frowned, distracted. “She should have been here by now.”
Rico slumped back in the chair, the wind and all hope going out of him as he said, “I’m sure she’s fine. Amber, we need to get past this.”
“Why? What’s the point?”
Her answer offered no future, and that he couldn’t allow.
“The point? We’ve got something good started here. I’m not giving that up.”
“Something built on lies.”
“And secrets,” he challenged. “I’ve told you mine. Tell me yours.”
They both fell silent, prideful, fearful, needing the other to give them anything but a reason to say good-bye.
Her phone rang.
"That must be Evie." Amber's relief at the interruption gusted out as she reached for her phone. "Hi, baby. Where are you?"
Color bleaching from her face, she staggered out of the chair onto wobbly legs. Her chest jerked with frantic breaths.
"Amber?" Rico leapt from his seat to grip her arms, fearing she'd drop from whatever shock she’d just received. "Amber, what's wrong?"
Panic crowded his throat as her stark gaze rose to his, not focusing on him as fright blanked her features. He took the phone, checking the screen, but the call had already disconnected. What the hell? His heart pounded.
"Amber, what is it? Is it Evie? Tell me!"
The sharpness of his tone cut through the edge of her hysteria. She whispered his name, not Frederick, but softly, with a terrible, strangling anguish, "Rico," clasping him about the neck, fingers twisting in his hair. Her tears burned hot against his cheek.
He clutched her close, pitching his voice low and soothing. "I'm here. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Let me help you." He gave that time to sink in then asked in the same measured calm, "Is she hurt? Did something happen at school? Do you need me to take you somewhere?"
Her frantic swallowing sounded painful. Then her words, so much worse.
"He asked if I knew where my daughter was."