His face was flushed, and his eyes darted back and forth. He sniffed and wiped his nose. Tim began to pace back and forth. Did he just apologize? Hurricane Tim did not think about others. He was completely self-absorbed. There was no way that he had embraced Buddhism and was on a personal journey for inner peace. Or some anonymous recovery group. That wasn’t Tim. Tim laying an apology at my feet like a housecat bringing a mouse to its owner was more terrifying than his violent possibility. Was he on something? Whoever heard of a drug that made you nice? Or that calmed your rage? A shadow of movement behind him caught my eye. I took a step back. Another man. Alarm bells clanged in my head. Was this a trap? He could be luring me out with the apology. What would he and his friend do to me? The image of my fingernails grasping the concrete of the garage floor as they pulled me into the bushes flashed through my mind. My imaginary screams echoed in my head. They would need to kill me first. I studied the stranger, although he was far enough away it was difficult. His posture was oddly tall. The bikers in Tim’s crowd were a bunch of slouches, eyes darting all over the place and skulking. Not the brightest bunch, they always looked like they were up to something. Played the part of stereotypical criminals. This man was different. Tall. Proud. Unusually attractive, but perhaps that was from the distance. Model-like even. Strong jaw, broad shoulders, clean-shaven. He didn’t look like a biker. At least, none of the bikers I’d seen. Tim’s crowd was full of pot-bellies and grizzly beards. The strange man had the appearance of a model playing the role of a biker. He was dressed in dark wash jeans, a leather jacket, and had his hands stuffed into his pockets. His hair was dark and curly. I didn’t think I had ever seen him before, but he looked slightly familiar. Did he have a sister that used to hang around? That was one of the first reasons our relationship went downhill. Tim’s appetite for skanks. But then again, why would some guy hang around if my husband was boning his sister? And why would he look simultaneously out of place, but familiar? The stranger stood still and quiet. As if he was examining something in the garden. He was disinterested and aloof. If they were planning something, why wouldn’t he be paying more attention?
A voice broke my reverie. “Where’d you go?”
Tim snapped his fingers, drawing my gaze back towards him. His previously slack face was tightened a bit. Apparently, my lack of fear and worry ruffled his feathers slightly. And my attention to his friend. Good. At least if he was behaving like his usual self, he was predictable. And then I had an excuse to use the weight on his head. “What do you want? I need to get to work.”
“I want to see the girls.”
He flashed a puppy dog look in my direction. Poor, helpless Tim. I was the big bad wolf that stole his children. Completely out of the blue. Not like I had a reason or anything. You know, it isn’t like my daughters need their mother to be conscious. “No way. You’re totally tweaked right now! Do you think that after all this time I don’t know you?” It was a gamble, but my assumption seemed to strike a nerve. Something unnatural was elevating his mood. I could feel it.
Tim’s cheeks flushed. He looked irritated, but he kept his voice gentle. “I didn’t mean right now. Please. I miss them. Our family. I miss our little family.”
His voice cracked, piercing my heart. His ability to mimic genuine emotion was sometimes Oscar-worthy. He didn’t give a shit about our daughters. Only the fact that they empowered him to wield the status of father and the power that their safety wielded over me.
Tim wasn’t a very good husband either. Jealous. Violent. A terrible temper. But he had his moments as a father and a lover too. He knew how to play the part and how to ensnare and charm his way into anything before he shits all over it. Stay strong. It’s great when it’s good, but when it’s bad, it’s dangerous. “Let me think about it. I need to go.” I turned to go back towards the car, but Tim’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. I flinched. His grip was tight, but not painful.
“Thank you.” His eyes were pleading. “For thinking about it, I mean.”
For whatever reason, he wasn’t lying about seeing the girls. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to see them. It wasn’t about me.
The stranger cleared his throat, and Tim released my arm.
Could he possibly have changed? Is he hanging out with a new crowd that wasn’t criminal and insane? I pushed away that thought as quickly as it came. That’s how I got sucked into staying, time after time. He was good at making promises and temporarily turning over new leaves. Well, even so, that is not what I expected. What the hell had gotten into him? The stranger was facing us, his eyes focused on our interaction. He looked tense, like a runner at the starting line of a race. He was too far away for him to make a move without me having time to react. I didn’t need to worry about them. Today at least.
I squeezed past his mountain like torso, bumping his arm with the weight. “You’re welcome. I’ll call you when I’m ready.” I kept my voice steady and turned towards the car. While keeping my steps at a casual pace, I braced myself for Tim’s wrath. I held the weight a little tighter. I reached the car and threw a glance in his direction. They were both gone. I climbed into the car and put the weight in the passenger seat. The girls were still snoring, completely unaware that their father even existed, let alone had been close enough to touch them, hold them. I pressed the door lock. It engaged with a satisfying click. My hands shook wildly as I turned over the ignition. Tears sprang from my eyes. Sobs escaped, but I kept them as silent as I could. He’d found me. I was never going to be free of him and something was off. Tim was violent and passionate. He was acting stone cold, almost like a robot. Was he on a new drug? He seemed…clear but nervous. This was a man that stood on a sixteen-floor ledge and threatened to jump simply because he wanted to prove a point. A man that could commit crimes openly in front of police and get away with it because of his reputation for revenge. The one thing that gave me the strength to escape was the fact that Tim was a known quantity. If I stayed, he would kill me. If I left, he would never stop hunting me. I took the best of two impossible options. But this new Tim gave me the creeps. Gone was the bold warrior I once
knew. In his place was a skittish tweaker and whatever the hell it was out there that scared him, I couldn’t imagine. Something that scared Tim wasn’t anything to be messed with and I hoped I wouldn’t be around when it found him. I pulled out of the driveway, into the street, and on to daycare. When I arrived at work fifteen minutes later, my legs were still shaking.
Chapter 6
Jared
Finding her was easy. Even the savviest of humans can’t cover their tracks well. From a shapeshifter, not a chance. What was difficult was deciding whether or not to tell him where she was. In the end, money won out but I’m no monster. I went with him to make sure it went nice and easy. I didn’t expect her to walk through the friggin’ door to my brother’s hospital room. This was not part of my plan.
After leading that idiot Tim to his ex-wife, I headed to the hospital to visit Frank and this super cute nurse that I just “had to meet” because Wes finally had a crush. When I arrived, Frank was out cold. Wes was gone. I pulled my notebook from my back pocket and sat down to run some figures. I was crunching the profits of my latest venture. I cleared nearly ten grand for this small free-lance job. Easy money.
Tim was a real wanker, connected through some out-of-state group of posers and obnoxiously arrogant. A dangerous combination. His gang of losers were too stupid to realize Tim was using their money to fund his drug habit and scheming. They had their hands in the drug game, but it was all small time and sloppy. Apparently, he lost patience with the usual routes: private detectives, corrupt bounty hunters, and the like. He said he only wanted to bring her back home. None of my business. But, something about him set alarms bells off in my head. His old lady was a little too skilled at staying hidden. Her motivation piqued my curiosity. Tim paid me over twenty-grand to find her. How a small-time biker got that kind of money, I’ll never know. Ten to one, he was going to end up with his kneecaps blown out from a bookie here shortly. He seemed like the loan defaulting type and he was too arrogant. Not a good combination.
It took me two days to find her, the longest it has ever taken me to find a human. His domestic violence record with her was a mile long. She was afraid for her life and it was enough for her to get good at hiding. Someone that was smart enough to hide from me, was too smart to be married to that fool. For some reason, I decided to intervene. Last week, I put the fear of God into him. If he so much as messed up her hair, I would slit his throat. Usually, I couldn’t afford sympathy, but an easy and well-paying gig like this wasn’t usual. I knew from experience the peace treaty wasn’t going to last long. With those guys it never does. But it’s going to buy me enough time to make more money and that’s all I need. My list of ideas was growing by the minute. I could extort them both. She would clearly do anything to protect her children and Tim would do anything to ruin her life. People are extremely weak with such obsessions. There was something about her. She was special and it was going to be profitable for me. I just had to figure out how to work an angle.
I was hunched over my notebook when I heard her footsteps approach. Jumping up from the seat towards Frank’s bedside, I tucked the notebook back into my pocket. I put my hands on his arm and shoulder. We’ve played nurses sympathies enough to know that as long as I play the part of the concerned brother, the police interview is going to be focusing on a victim, not a troublemaking biker. This whole town knew the trouble we were causing and they did not like it. We’d turned their neighborhoods upside down in the takeover and things still hadn’t settled down. Most of the people were lower middle class. They couldn’t afford to leave their homes. Some cut and run, but most stayed put when we moved in. Many thought we were simply a storm to weather and in some ways, they were right. Once we seized control of the drug game and trafficking, we would make sure that it stayed peaceful. But restoring order took a shakeup first. What they didn’t know is that we were on their side. We wanted all of the violent gangs and drug dealers out of their small town as much as they did. And they were not going to be able to rely on cops to use legal means to do it. If cops shared information across states, it would take half a brain to put together. As much as we’re in the hospital, we deserve it. But, with every move we shed our surnames like snakes shed their skin and according to the fragmented and disconnected state agencies, we’re home free. At least for now. This small town had long term potential for us. It was just going to take some time.
“Hey.”
The soft tone of her voice sent a jolt through my body. During her interaction with Tim, her voice was low, but she spoke with a clear air of authority. Confidence. I almost didn’t recognize this shy schoolgirl whisper. Almost. I turned slowly, praying that I had stayed far enough away to be unrecognizable. This is what I get for taking a job personally. When I turned towards her, she smiled. Whew. I was in the clear. It was an obstacle if she started screaming.
“You must be the other brother. I met Wes last week. Or was it the week before? I’m losing track.” It was last week. The day after Frank was in the hospital was the day I went to her house. Thank God she was a busy single mother. Most likely, I could write off her confusion about remembering me, to her looking at my brothers. It wasn't as if we didn't look almost identical.
She giggled and flipped over one of the pages of the chart. “He’s healing quickly. Frank’s going to be out of here before you know it.”
We’ve learned to slow our healing, to fly under the radar in human hospitals. We’re still considered quick healers, but at least we don’t raise any red flags. “He takes good care of himself.” That was mostly true. Aside from the binge drinking and string of one-night stands, he led a pretty healthy lifestyle.
“You all look a lot alike. I’m completely getting déjà vu right now. I feel like I’ve already met you.”
Quite the sense of humor on this one. “So, we’ve been told from time to time. When we were kids it was a lot of fun.”
Jen raised her eyebrow. “How so?”
“We were always pranking people. Switching places and other juvenile stuff. It got old eventually, but our mean streak lasted a few years.” And we still revisit it from time to time.