Poughkeepsie (62 page)

Her voice was so warm. Achingly warm. Beckett almost didn’t recognize it.

The little girl stopped her bike and took an elaborate, deep breath. “Peanut is not a good dog. He ran away when I tried to put my sister’s dress on him. He likes to run away. Mommy said, ‘Go get Peanut!’ So I went to go get Peanut, and he saw a bunny and took off down the road, and my sister’s crying, and she’s just a baby. I’m a big sister. I know how to give her a bottle, and Mommy says I’m a big help. Peanut! Don’t poop! Oh, I’m sorry, lady. He’s just on a streak of bad.”

Beckett stepped from behind the curtain so he could see Eve’s face clearly. He knew she was beautiful, but the smile on her face for this little girl made him grab the windowsill.

Eve was magnificent. Her eyes were soft, her body language welcoming. Her guard was not only down, it was gone. In just a few sentences, this child had broken through to the Eve he’d only seen hints of.

Eve got down to the girl’s level. “What’s your name?”

The big-eyed girl had the audacity to bounce her pigtails while she recited her full name: “Emily Anna Whiteside.”

Anna.
Beckett watched as Eve’s chest caved ever so slightly with the blow.

She recovered, as she always did, to deal with the task in front of her. “Hi, Emily. I’m Eve. There are no houses close by. How long have you been riding your bike?”

“It feels like hours. And I have to go potty, but I won’t give up. Peanut’s bad, but he’s mine.”

The unacceptable dog now licked his hindquarters with abandon a stone’s throw from where the two were getting to know one another.

“Okay, Emily. I’m sure your mom’s worried. I’ll get Peanut, and we’ll get you home.” Eve put her hand out like she might like to touch the top of the girl’s head, but she pulled it back at the last second.

Would soft hair hurt that much to touch?
Beckett dropped to his knees, trying to see this tender Eve more closely.

Eve headed for the dog. “Here, Peanut. Here, boy.”

The dog trotted eagerly toward her, then veered away just as Eve got close.

The little girl laughed and scolded the dog at the same time. “Go, Eve, go! Peanut, stop.”

She dissolved into giggles. Like a husk of ice cracking and falling to the ground, the giggles changed Eve. She began exaggerating her movements to make the girl laugh, and she pretended to growl and bark at Peanut, who stopped and cocked his head to one side.

Little Emily had to hold her middle as Eve finally dove at the dog, tackling him efficiently. All dressed up for the wedding, Eve was now covered in clinging leaves and smudges of dirt. Emily clapped her hands at the sight of her beloved pooch captured and safe. As Eve knelt to get a better grip on the dog’s collar, she faced the house.

Maybe he could have changed his mind. Maybe he could have continued thinking only about himself. But Beckett had seen her face. He’d been looking at her eyes when the grateful girl reached up to give Eve a hug.

Emily was so excited she forgot. She was so happy she made a mistake and said, “Thank you so much, Mommy!”

Beckett watched baby Anna die all over again on Eve’s face. Her raw agony was worse than any bullet he’d ever taken. As the icy husk crystallized again around this beautiful woman, he made his decision, determined his future.

He watched as Eve took Emily in the front door, disappearing beneath him. Evil Peanut’s paws made regular clacks on the wood floor as Eve showed Emily the bathroom. Eve’s murmurs and the little girl’s bright-voiced answers decorated the house with life. Too soon Eve had loaded the little girl, her pink bike, and the wayward dog into his minivan.

After they’d pulled away Beckett found a blazer to wear over his shirt. He went out on the porch and waited in the rocking chair until she returned and parked the minivan just where it had been before.

Eve sat for a split second in the driver’s seat before she leaped out and slammed the door. He waited until she’d come to lean against the porch railing before he looked up at her face again.

“You can have that life,” he told her. “It’s right there for you to take.”

“I love you,” Eve quickly countered.

“Loving me hurts you, doesn’t it?” Beckett asked, looking down. “No, you don’t have to tell me. I know. I can smell it. I can smell the pain coming off of you,” he said, looking at the floor. “You had love before and a future. What does loving me get you, Eve? What does it get you?” He stood, angry with himself.

“I don’t need to
get
anything from you. It’s the way it is. There’s no changing that.” She gripped the porch railing.

Beckett stepped close to Eve and tenderly tucked a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

“You’re saying goodbye,” she said, her eyes full of questions.

“Do you know there are other little girls out there like that one? I lived with a few of them. They would sell their souls for a mother like you.”

At the word
mother
Eve’s chin crumpled. She tried to hold back the tears, but they wouldn’t obey.

“See that? It’s what you need. You need that—a little kid calling you Mom.” Beckett put his arms around her as she shattered.

The pain she kept hidden surfaced from where it had been smoldering. When he felt her knees weaken, he hugged her harder.

“That’s right. It’s okay. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. You want normal.” He guided her to the chair he’d vacated. “There’s a guy out there who’ll hold your hand. There’s a little girl out there. She’s waiting for you. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.” He knelt in front of her and rubbed her arms.

She slapped at his hands, letting outrage carry her words. “I don’t want another man. I want
you
. I’ve killed for you. I’ve protected you. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you honestly think these hands that kill can hold a child?” She held her fingers in front of her face.

“Yes. Absolutely. Don’t you know, gorgeous? Mothers are some of the most vicious killers out there, if their kids are threatened. You just have more practice.” He took her hands and kissed them.

“I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose you. Don’t make me. Please. I’ll beg you if I have to.” She watched his lips on her palms.

He shook his head and used her own words against her. “The hardest part of loving someone is not being with them when you want to be.”

He stood, and she mirrored his motion, already shaking her head. “Don’t say it.”

Beckett ignored her; he knew what he had to do. He had to set beautiful Eve free to find that soft, touchable woman he’d seen her become with the little girl.

“I’m going to my brother’s wedding. I’m his best man.” He straightened his jacket.

“They’ll arrest you. That’s a wonderful present for him.” She wiped tears off her face.

“Did you notice he can walk in the sun now, and I can’t?” Beckett lifted an eyebrow.

“I can change that for you. We can get away—the money’s there. Let’s go. We’ll go now.” Eve grabbed his lapels.

He covered her hands. “And what happens when we get far away from here and your eyes start to glaze over again? What happens when a little girl loses her dog? Do you think I ever, ever want to see that pain in your eyes again? It was like I was shooting you myself.” He looked down at their feet and back up at her again.

“Where would I get a kid for us, Eve? No one would let me adopt. Christ,
I
wouldn’t let me adopt. You can get out of this free and clear. You
will
get out of this free and clear. It’s my last order to you. Have a good fucking life. Promise? I’ll beg you if I have to.” He put his big hands on her cheeks.

Time ticked by as they stood at the edge. Beckett knew he was right. She wanted the kids. She wanted the normal—sticky waffle breakfasts and runaway dogs and a minivan that spilled Barbie dolls when the door opened. She wanted it so very much. He just needed her to accept that.

“I can’t watch you get arrested.” She finally dared to look in his eyes.

He nodded. “Then you can’t come, can you, baby?”

She said nothing. Her breath was shaky.

“Know this: I love you so fucking much,” Beckett said. “No other person has been to me what you are. No one else ever will be.” He leaned down and gave her the sweetest, gentlest kiss.

He wanted her to know what she should expect from the next guy, what she should demand. And because he needed it once more, he tried to make her smile. “Though the first dude to give me the Prison Shocker will be a close second.”

She shook her head and showed a ghost of a smile.

“I’m taking your bike ’cause you’re going to need the minivan for all those kids.” He winked and willed himself to smile at her.

Before he could change his mind, Beckett got on her bike. He fired it up and let it sit for a minute. After he’d committed her face, this moment, this heartbeat to memory, he obediently put on the helmet. Then he turned the bike and headed toward the road, intent on Poughkeepsie.

She watched as the dirt kicked up in a cloud. When it cleared, she couldn’t see him anymore. She stayed until she couldn’t hear him anymore.

Staying.

Not chasing.

Not stopping him.

She knew she could bring him back. She was more than capable, and yet her feet refused to move. It felt like the little arms that had encircled her neck still clung there.

Was it my Anna?
Was her name just a coincidence?

Eve hated that she had these questions, and that the only man she wanted to talk to about them was David.
Have I just forsaken Beckett?

Roots continued to form. Her murderous hands remembered how satisfying clicking the seatbelt around Emily’s small body had been. It sounded just like releasing the safety on a gun.
Could motherhood be even a tiny possibility?

Her inaction chose her future.

49

Will You Marry Me?

A
S
H
E
P
REPARED
F
OR
his wedding, Blake had arranged his shirt three times. It refused to be tucked into his pants in any normal way. He ripped it out and tried again as he heard someone’s key in the lock of his apartment.

“Today’s the big day!” Cole announced as he entered. When he found Blake in the bedroom, he started laughing. “Remember how many times I did my hair the day I married Kyle? I think that shirt is my hair for you today.”

Blake sighed. “What? Could you not launch riddles at me? I can’t think straight.”

“I’d help you with your pants, but I think you’ll manage.” Cole sat on the edge of Blake’s bed as Blake rolled his eyes.

The men skipped their traditional greeting. They’d dropped the ritual. This was their unspoken acknowledgment of Beckett’s absence.

“Do you have the rings?” Blake finally righted his shirt and started on the tie.

“Yes, I do. Get used to hearing that today, by the way.” Cole stood to retrieve the rings from his pocket. He was keeping them safe in a little satin bag. He emptied the contents into his hand.

Blake counted them out loud. “One, two.”

Cole ribbed him again using his best cartoon voice. “Two! We have two rings! Ah-ha-ha!”

“Are you allowed to beat up the officiant before a wedding? I think we need to start that tradition today.” Blake play-punched Cole in the stomach.

Light, funny, and slightly false, the boys tried to keep the giant, Beckett-sized hole in the room filled with their banter.

Cole grabbed Blake’s jacket off the wooden hanger and held it open. Blake stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the tie again, then submitted to the jacket.

“Do you think I should smooth the hair? I mean, like, with a part or something?” Blake tried it out with his hands.

Cole tilted his head like a cocker spaniel. “Um. I’m going to go ahead with a
no
. You’ll look like a newscaster.” Cole made his voice deeper. “And today, in other news, Blake Hartt and his bride jammed up an entire train station with their love.”