Boomtown (28 page)

  “Don’t stop believin’!” I heard Cheyenne singing to the Journey song that was blaring from the radio.  I watched her sway her ass in time with the tune as I leaned in the doorway.  She was painting the nursery.  It looked like an explosion of red and white.  It looked like someone puked a circus up, but I wasn’t going to say a word.  As long as she was happy. 

  “The smell of wine and cheap perfume!” she sang once more, strangling the word perfume with a high pitched squealing sound that in no way came close to sounding like perfume was supposed to sound.

  “Who sings this song?” Ember asked.

  “Journey.”  Cheyenne answered.

  “Well then why don’t you let them sing it?” She asked.

  “Twinkle Twinkle Little Bitch, I want to throw you in a ditch.” Cheyenne sang, then threw the small paintbrush at her that she was using to paint the trim.

  Ember squealed when it landed in her hair.  She raised her hand to throw her own brush back but I cleared my throat before this became a mess that I ended up cleaning up.

  “Ahem.” I cleared my throat.

  Both of them jumped and turned towards me.

  “What are you two doing in here?” I asked.

   “We are painting, what does it look like we are doing?” Cheyenne asked snottily.

  Apparently she was still mad at me. 

  It had been a little over a month since she was taken.  I went to every one of her appointments myself.  She was getting a little testy about being followed around everywhere.  She didn’t even get to leave our house and come to the shop by herself.  Unfortunately I couldn’t see a better way to go about protecting her.  I barely was able to sleep four hours at night.  I would lie beside her, and my brain just wouldn’t shut down.  Cheyenne was up every two hours herself because of the babies.  If she wasn’t peeing, she was shifting from side to side to get comfortable.  Cheyenne’s hormones were killing me.  Every little thing set her off.

  I also recommended that she leave her job.  I was fully capable of supporting her, and she was so big and pregnant that she wasn’t able to do as much as she used to.  She barely fit behind the wheel.  She had just finished her classes for the winter, and Christmas was just around the corner.  She didn’t like that I asked her to quit her job.  She did see the value in leaving though.  She hated the job, she just didn’t want to leave when I had suggested it. 

  “I’m still not speaking to you.” She said, and then went to pick up the brush that was lying on the plastic that covered the carpet.

  “Oh give it a rest already, Cheyenne.  You were just saying how happy you were that you didn’t have a job anymore.” Ember said.

  “I’m not speaking to him because he wouldn’t have sex with me this morning.  I’m not mad that he asked me to quit anymore.  I was over that last night.” She said to Ember ignoring me.

  I smiled and let out a little laugh, remembering how our morning had panned out.

∞

  I had received a call from Jack saying he had urgent news, and to meet him in the office in five minutes.  I was however in the process of sucking Cheyenne’s responsive pink nipples.  It was not a good time, but Jack wouldn’t have called me if it wasn’t important.

  “I gotta go, baby.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I whispered into her ear.

  I rushed to get on my jeans, boots and long sleeved black shirt.  I pulled my bomber jacket on, pulled my beanie over my head, and gave Cheyenne another quick kiss before exiting through the front door.

  I walked into the down room five minutes later on the dot.  Gabe, James, Jack and Max were already there lounging on the couches and the lazy boy recliner.  All had a cup of coffee and a donut in their hands.  I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup in my favorite mug that Cheyenne had gotten me.

  I snagged a cake donut out of the box and turned to Jack.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “We got him.” Jack said.

  I smiled, remembering the last time he had said that to me.  It was much the same as it was now; I had left Cheyenne sleeping in bed when I got a call from Jack in the middle of the night asking me to meet in the garage.  I walked in through the side door of the garage into the common area where the rest of the guys were gathered around waiting for me, and Jack didn’t bull shit around.

  “We got him.” Jack said.

  Everyone leaned forward in their seats waiting to hear more.  We all knew he was talking about Malcolm.

  “Tell me.” I demanded. 

  “He has been frequenting a certain gentleman’s club.  Apparently he got a little rough with one of the dancer’s last night and exposed himself.  The woman didn’t press charges, so the officer that was there couldn’t arrest him.  He got a description though, and it matches the same one that Cheyenne gave us.  Blonde hair, black eyes, scar that circles his upper right arm.  Goes by the name of Justin Lamont.  It ran over the police scanner this morning around one, and I have been digging ever since.  I spoke with the club owner, and he gave me a credit card that he used to buy drinks last night.  So I ran the card name and number and found that he has rented a month by month room in the downtown area.” 

  “Why the fuck did we not ever think he would go by Justin’s name?  I mean the fucker had plastic surgery so he could look like Justin.  Why would we not have made that connection as well?” Max asked the room. 

  I had the same thought myself.  Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought he would be stupid enough to go by Justin’s name.  It blew my mind when I found out that he had plastic surgery to look like Justin, but never would I have thought that he would use his name too. 

  “I actually ran Justin’s name through the system, but he wasn’t using it as of two weeks ago.” Jack said. “I run his old name and Justin’s every two weeks just to be sure.” 

  “Why would he just now use that name?” James asked. 

  “He is planning something.” I said to him. 

  “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.  But it doesn’t matter anymore.  We need to get surveillance on his place.  We need to know if he is staying there, and then we need to move in if he is.” I said to the room at large. 

  We discussed the plan until we ironed it out. All possible holes in our planning were discussed, and then ironed out.  With any luck this would be taken care of and wrapped up in the next week.  My kids could be brought into this world safe, without a sick fuck trying to take them or their mother from me. 

  This meeting had a different air to it.  Today we knew where he was, we were only waiting until Tuesday to roll around before we went in.

  “You got who?” I asked Jack.

  “Malcolm.  I found what he was hiding.” Jack said.

  “What is that?”

  “Apparently more happened that day he raped that girl.  She got pregnant.  She also moved to the US courtesy of the United States Army.  And just take a wild guess about where in the country she is at.  That’s right, right here in East Texas.” Jack said morosely.

  “Put a watch on her, let Peterson know.  Maybe they can provide her protection.  In the meantime the same plan is still set.  I’ll go to the warehouse instead of the rookie, and y’all will be on standby in case someone else shows up.” I said to the room at large.

  “I don’t like this.” Max said.

  “You don’t have to like it.” I said back to him.  “This needs to be over with.  I want the girls’ to come into this world safe.  They will never be safe if he is still out there.” I said.

  “Yea, but you don’t have to put your own ass on the line.”

  “This is not up for discussion.  Let me know when everything is in place.” I said, and then headed out into the garage and started working on an older Harley that was salvaged from the scrap yard by an eighteen year old.  

  I worked all the way up to lunch, and then headed back to the house.  This is when I found them painting the circus room. 

  “What the hell is this supposed to be?” I asked.

  “Dr. Seuss.  Thing One and Thing Two.” Cheyenne said in a duh way.

  I guess I could see it now.  It still was a lot of red and white though.  It reminded me of a circus tent.

   “We still going to get the tree today?” I asked Cheyenne.

  “Yes!” she said excitedly.  “I just have to wash all this paint off my arms and hands.”

  She was jumping up and down now, and I was getting a little worried.  How she could still jump up and down I didn’t know.  She was all stomach.    It was surprising that she didn’t topple over since she was so front heavy.  She stopped hopping to go to the paint and pour it back in the bucket.  She tossed the used paintbrushes into a Ziplock, and was out of the room before Ember and I could say another word.

  Ember looked over at me and we both rolled our eyes. 

  “Sometimes I worry that she is going to fall over and not be able to get back up again.”  Ember said quietly.

  I burst out laughing, nodding my head in agreement.  I did worry about her size.  She was not a big woman to begin with, and adding two babies that were looking on the large side didn’t help.   My mom liked to tell Cheyenne that I came out ten pounds.  She doesn’t seem to think that it is a big deal, and normally it wouldn’t be but when you are carrying two that could possibly get as big as ten pounds it was a little scary.  Cheyenne was always quiet when she thought about the fact that she was having two babies that had the potential to be big.  I knew she was worried, but there wasn’t much I could do about it other than worry myself.

  “Ember, Ember.  Tsk Tsk.  You know better than to say something about her weight.  I seem to remember a couple of weeks ago when you were visiting, and I came in to find you and Cheyenne in a catfight on the floor.  What was that about again?” I asked her.

  “That was because she told me I was looking like an orca.  I was wearing black yoga pants and a white camisole that didn’t go over my belly all the way.  She pointed out that usually Orca’s didn’t have belly button rings.” Cheyenne came back in, wrapping her arms around be from behind.  Her big belly pressed into my lower back, and I could feel the babies moving around against me.  They didn’t like having pressure on them, and rebelled when they felt it.

  “It was just a joke!” Ember laughed.  “It wasn’t supposed to set you off!”

  It was actually quite funny to see. We heard Cheyenne and Ember yelling, so we gave it a little while to see if it would stop, since it was normal for the two of them to get into screaming matches.  However this time it had just continued to escalate, and I broke off from the guys and opened the front door to peek inside, of course the guys were right behind me.   I could see them both on the ground, and Gabe, Jack, and I had started laughing until tears formed in our eyes.  Ember was getting her ass kicked, but it wasn’t like she could fight back against a pregnant woman.  Cheyenne was sitting on top of Ember, her big stomach practically pinning her to the ground.  She kept yelling for Ember to “Take it back” and we never fully got the story until we were able to separate them.

  “Ready.” Cheyenne said into my back.

  Ember hopped into the back seat of the suburban, and we dropped her off at the front of the garage so she could stay with Max for a little while. 

  “Bye, guys.” she said as she slammed the door.

  “Where to?” I asked her. 

  She gave me directions, and we arrived at the tree farm in record time.  There was a bonfire roaring in the open area with hot chocolate stand, a Santa sitting on his big green chair, and a checkout stand further back.  There was a sign that said feel free to pick a tree and under it saws hung on the hook. 

  I grabbed a saw, Cheyenne’s hand and we set out to find the perfect tree.

CHEYENNE

  “I want this one.” I said to Sam. 

  “I don’t think this one will fit.” He said to me while eyeing the tree. 

  “It’s perfect.  I want this one.  We will make it work.” I said back.

  It really was perfect.  It was darker than most of the other trees.  It also was poofier and didn’t have any bald spots. 

  “I don’t think this one is for sale.  It doesn’t have a pink tag like the others.” He said warily. 

  I looked all around the tree, but didn’t find one of the pink ribbons that were tied to the other trees that were for sale.  So instead I walked over to a tree that had a ribbon and stole it off of it.  I tied it to my tree and waited, tapping my foot as Sam stared back at me. 

  “I’m not sure that was allowed.” He finally said. 

  We had been looking for nearly an hour, my back hurt, my feet hurt, and I wanted to sit down.  I marched over to him, grabbed the saw from his hand, and then stopped beside the tree thinking about how best to get this done. 

  “I’ve got it.” Sam said sounding exasperated.   

  He dropped down onto his knees, and then down to his stomach so he could crawl underneath the tree and started sawing away.  The muscles of his back bunched and flexed with each forward and back motion.  My mouth started watering.

  My sex drive didn’t go down like some women’s did during their pregnancies.  Mine seemed to skyrocket, and I was sure that Sam was pretty tired of having to practically service me.  Our fight this morning stemmed from me wanting sex, and I was about to get some when he was called away.

  Normally it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but my hormones were wonky and didn’t care whether it was rational or not.  I cried for nearly an hour after Sam had left, not that I would be letting him know that.  He didn’t need me to add to his worries that he was carrying around.

  The tree fell over, and Sam stood up while wiping off dirt and pine needles off the front of his shirt.  He handed me the saw, and then picked the tree up like it weighed nothing.  We walked to the front again, and Sam dropped the tree beside the others that were waiting to be shaken then stuffed into that little bag that would compact it down to a more manageable size.

  “Do you want to sit in Santa’s lap?” Sam asked jokingly.

  I smiled and then walked over to the Santa and waited in line.  I glanced over my shoulder to see Sam with his hands on his hips staring up at the sky like he was contemplating not killing me.  Santa gestured me forward when my eyes returned to him, and I walked to him.  He patted his lap, gesturing for me to take a seat.