I close my eyes and let the pang of a familiar fear lace my veins. I worried about something similar happening to me when they’d place me with a new family. It was always a concern, and I knew of nightmare outcomes. I didn’t realize I was born of one. “Jesus Christ,” I whisper.
“He had nothing to do with it, Maeve. Don’t bring him into it. He’s the reason I’m able to talk to you. He brought you here to me.”
Born again Christian. Of course she is. “Did he help you kill people?”
Autumn’s nostrils flare. “That was the devil’s curse,” she screams hotly, pulling on her restraints. “The devil did that to me. The devil led me to that man. Pure evil stole my freedom.” Ah, now the crazy the guard was talking about appears. At least I got something from her before she flipped the bat shit switch. “God will forgive me.”
I nod. “Listen,” I order. “I’m sorry about the hand life dealt you. I wanted to visit before they, before, well, you know your sentence is carried out. I want you to know that despite the rocky start, I managed to pull out of there with a meaningful life.” Her eyes go round as I tell her about college and the love I have for my job. Then I make a hasty decision to give her something to hold on to. Something to take to wherever she ends up next. “I have a son. You have a grandson and he is spectacular.” It’s not an outright lie.
Autumn is sobbing, rocking back and forth, and it’s odd to feel empathy for a monster, but isn’t that the root of my entire life? Me believing I’m some kind of unlovable monster, and those around me trying to convince me otherwise.
“The father? Is he a good solid man?” Her question pulls me from romancing my past.
Now I break down. “He is. He is the best man. One you probably wouldn’t think existed if you hadn’t met him.” My words are tinged with sadness.
“Oh no, Maevey,” Autumn says, and my heart rips open. “What happened?”
Turner. Oh, I am a monster. I am like her. What have I done? My boy. This is the part where I tell a murderous felon my whole sordid story. I don’t know why I do. It’s not because I feel some familial bond with Autumn. It’s just because it bubbled up right now, and if I don’t speak it, I’m afraid I’ll bury it instead. She stays silent, watching me closely as I tell her about Rena and Ramona and Stavros. Autumn hangs on my every word like my story is the most exciting part of her life. She asks me how I’m feeling. She tries to make the hurt go away by saying kind things. Her eyes reflect my agony and I know she feels it, too. Because despite everything. This monster is my mother. And this monster loves me unconditionally, without question or pause.
When it’s all out, she says one more thing before our time runs out. I catch a glimpse of happiness on her face. “Do not run, Maeve. Nothing good comes of running. Don’t run away. You’re stronger than I was. You’re strong enough to face anything. That’s who you are.”
Autumn screams out in desperation as the guard comes in to take her back to her cell. I see the insane woman they all speak of now, not the mother she was moments before.
“Thank you,” I call out to her, and at my voice she stills. They inject something into her thigh and whisk her away.
Autumn Glass is a monster, but she’s also the reason I found myself. This time, permanently. I can’t get out of the prison quick enough.
Chapter 13
Maeve
Lincoln’s phone goes straight to voicemail for the tenth time, and I’m a little panicky as I tap my iPhone against the sofa next to me. Ramona locked us in the bedroom when we got back to the house and made me purge the entire conversation. For that, I’m thankful. I don’t want to be the only one carrying around this information. “The bus is here, but we’re all still getting ready, Maeve can you go out and tell him we’ll be ten more minutes.” We’re heading to another winery for a tasting and dinner, and the buzzed bus as it’s affectionately called is honking the horn in the driveway.
Tasha stops me before I go outside. “I know this is a long shot, but have you heard from Lincoln? I can’t get Isaac and it’s weird.”
I shake my head. “I need to apologize, and it’s going straight to voicemail. If you get Isaac, will you ask him to have Lincoln call me?” Tasha looks annoyed with me, but agrees. I have much atoning to do, and her reaction is a sickening reminder.
“I’ve gotta go grab my purse and lipstick. Be right out.”
Jogging down the steps from the house and into the circular drive, the bus driver opens the door and I hop aboard, into the dark cabin with flashing lights. “The rest will be here soon, they’re on their way.”
“Maeve?” an accented voice asks.
“Yes,” I say, confused. The door of the bus closes behind me. “What?”
The bus driver shakes his head. “You’ve made this easy on me. Have a seat, Ms. Ahern.” He pulls away from the house and dread settles into a pit in my stomach. “I will not have a seat! Let me out of here. Open the door!” I pull my phone out, ready to call 911.
I feel a looming presence from behind me, a warmness even though no one is touching me. “I’ll take that.” The man behind me snatches the phone, grabs my hands in one of his and puts a rag over my nose and mouth. It smells like clean laundry, but I know better. I struggle against his tight grip, but it’s no use. My eyes get heavy and the ability to move my muscles stops. He lays me gently on a large couch that spans one side of the bus. The last thing I see before blackness overtakes me is the neon lights reflecting off the damn stripper pole.
I come to pissing mad, confused, and no longer on the bus. It could have been minutes, days, or months, for how befuddled I am. I’m in a dark hotel room, but the bathroom light is on. I’m on the floor, handcuffed to the base of the table. The top is made of stone and is heavy. I jerk on the cuffs to test, because what else can I do? They’re on too tight to slip out of, too. My eyes still feel heavy, but my limbs move with ease. This isn’t a junky hotel room, this is a suite, and I can tell little about who is staying here by my surroundings. As my eyes adjust to the low light, I see takeout containers and a suitcase laying open on the floor by the king-sized bed. A conversation in another language floats out from what must be an office, and I connect the dots. Rena. The cartel. My dumb ass promise. Rufio making good on his word. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. Just when I was getting my life in order—closing chapters and looking forward to new ones.
I scream out and kick the table in protest. A man peers around the corner and shakes his head, obviously annoyed. “Hey! Come talk to me!”
It’s not him who comes out, though. It’s Rena. Like the last time I saw her, she looks messed up. Her designer clothing hanging off her gaunt frame like a zombie supermodel. Rena’s face is lined and weary. She resembles Autumn Glass in a way that sends a chill down my spine. “Rena, you have to let me go. This isn’t what I want.”
She laughs. “You think just because you ask, I’ll let you go. A deal is a deal. Did you or did you not ask Rufio for this favor in exchange for Lincoln and Turner’s safety?”
“I did. I won’t lie, I thought it was my only option. It’s not though. They need me, Rena. Turner needs me. Please you have to trust me that this isn’t how it’s supposed to end.” I swallow hard when I see her features harden even further. “I can’t run from them. They’ll never get over it.”