Redemption (MC Biker Romance) (4 page)

I would never label myself as a crier.
Sure, I got emotional during certain times of the month, but in general I was
not one of those girls who could turn on the waterworks on demand.

“I’m not going to cry. Just a little
anxious, I guess.”

“Alright then.” He scratched at his face.
He’d been growing out his beard for a few days now and was looking grizzlier by
the minute. He barely had time to sleep let alone shave. “You ready to go over
some things?”

“Yep,” I said. I carried my dishes to the
sink and picked up Tucker.

“Here is your prepaid phone. Keep this
close to you at all times. We’ve already gone over the motion sensor lights,
the special film on the windows. Oh, come over this way,” he said, walking
towards the hallway. He pointed at a light switch in the middle of the wall.
“This is sort of an emergency call button. If you switch this button, the
police will be here as quickly as they can. Make sure you don’t accidentally
bump it.”

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just can’t believe this is really
happening. This is like something out of a really bad cable TV movie or
something.”

He didn’t find it as funny as I. “How
long would it take them to get here?” I was afraid of the answer.

“At least an hour.”

“An hour? What if there’s an emergency?
What if I need an ambulance?”

“I’m going to see about getting some kind
of car for you. It might be a week or two, but I’ll find you something.”

“Well, let’s hope nothing bad happens in
the next week or two.”

“I want you to keep all doors and windows
locked at all times. Don’t go outside in the dark. Don’t make any non-emergency
phone calls. Internet should be up and running. There’s no cable. I’m sorry,”
he said as he walked throughout the house, racking his brain. “I think that’s
pretty much it. Just use common sense, Marina. Oh, and this probably goes
without saying, but don’t answer the door for anyone.”

“Got it,” I replied. Each second that
passed made me feel emptier than the second before. He was standing in front of
me, but he was already gone. I could tell he was somewhere else in his mind.

“I’ve left a gun for you. It’s in the
kitchen, in the drawer next to the sink.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t do this to me,” he said.

“Don’t do what?”

“You’re getting all quiet. I know you’re
upset. I’ll be back. I promise. I’ll be back by next weekend. If anything
changes, you’ll get an email from me or your father.” Ash stared down at me.
His dark hair was still wet from his morning shower. He smelled of bar soap and
spearmint toothpaste. “I will be back.”

“Got it.” I forced a smile. “You’ll be
back.”

He leaned down and kissed me, harder than
usual. He kissed Tuck’s forehead, then left the room to grab his bags. No
matter how many times I’d seen him leave before, it never got any easier. Each
time felt exactly like the time before. My chest would feel heavy, my eyes
would burn, my breathing would shallow, and my mind would race. My mind always
obsessed over the same thought. What if I never saw him again?
 

I walked him outside to the car. In the
broad daylight, it felt safe to do so. I stood by the hood with Tuck on my hip.
He kissed us again and hopped in the car. He hated long, drawn-out goodbyes.

I watched as the Ford left a trail of
dust down the infinite gravel road that stretched from the front of the house
all the way to the horizon and waited until the
tail lights
grew dim in the distance. I stood in that spot until I could no longer make out
any semblance of a vehicle.

It had been a full four hours since Ash
left. I reclined in a distressed leather chair with a book in the sunroom as
Tuck napped on my chest. I hadn’t yet felt like exploring the second floor of
the old house. I wasn’t sure what I’d find or how I’d be able to handle any
additional off the wall discoveries.

Eventually I dozed off. When I came to,
the sun was beginning to set. In the background of the silence of the house, I
heard rumbling. It sounded like it was coming from outside. A cloud of dust
zipped past the road and a sleek silver Cadillac turned into our driveway.

My heart began to race. My hands shook at
the thought of having to touch the gun Ash left for me. I tried to play out
multiple scenarios in my head. I tried to think of places in the house for us
to hide.

I heard a car door. My heart pounded in
my ears now. I grabbed Tuck and went into the kitchen to look for the gun.

There was a rap at the door. It didn’t
sound like a scary, heavy type of knock. It sounded more like a gentle,
I’m-a-stranded-traveler-and-I-need-help kind of knock. I sat Tuck in the
highchair and peered around the corner to get a good look at the stranger at
the door. I remembered what Ash said about the special coating on the windows.

Standing at the front door was a woman
who looked to be about my age, if not a little older. She wore dark jeans and
an ivory cashmere sweater. Her thick, dark hair was pushed back with the help
of some oversized, black sunglasses that rested on top of her head. She seemed
completely harmless. Ash would kill me if he knew I was deeming someone safe
just by looking at
them
, but she was very nicely
dressed. And she drove a Cadillac. She didn’t look like someone who ran around
with a rag tag group of rebel bikers.

She knocked on the door again. I reached
for the door handle then stopped myself. She gave up and walked back to her
car, stopping first to stare at the house one more time.

Jilted, I returned to check on Tuck. He
was happy and oblivious in his highchair, elated to see me. I vowed that things
would return to normal right then and there. I refused to live these weeks or
months in pure fear. I would take safety precautions, but I would not live this
period in my life at the mercy of the things of which I knew nothing. I refused
to allow my mind to play tricks on me, at least if I could help it.

“Are you hungry, Tucker baby?” I said, in
my happiest mommy voice.

He squealed and squirmed in his
one-year-old body.

I prepared his cereal and filled a
sippy
cup with milk from the stocked refrigerator. Once
Tuck had been fed, I fixed myself a bowl of soup from the cupboard.

We retired to the living room, where I
popped in a DVD to help us both fall asleep. I was aiming for an 8:00 bedtime.
I just wanted to sleep away this little extended vacation. If I slept from 8pm
to 9 or 10am every day, my days would fly by. I could cope with that.

My wish inevitably came true, as we
drifted off to sleep with the dull glow of the TV in the background and awoke
the next morning to the sound of songbirds outside the sunroom windows. My
pajamas stuck to my sweaty, damp skin. I blamed it on the leather chair. That
or I’d had a nightmare. As I wrapped my arms around Tuck and peeled myself off
the chair, I couldn’t help but notice how hot Tuck was too. I wondered if the
sun had been shining in the windows on us while we slept that morning, but the
sun was on the opposite side of the house. Tuck’s cheeks were ruddy and he
began to fuss.

I grabbed the thermometer from his diaper
bag and took his temperature. 104.1. I began to panic. I gave him liquid fever
reducer and grabbed the prepaid cell phone to try and call Ash. As soon as the
phone powered on my worst fears were confirmed. No signal. I carried the phone
to every corner of the first floor, praying for at least one bar. I ran up the
creaky wooden staircase to the second floor, unknown territory at this point,
and carried the phone to the far end of the hallway.
Still no
signal.

I decided I had to carry the phone
outside. I had no other choice. I had to get Tuck to a doctor. I had to reach Ash.
I’d never felt so stranded and helpless in my life.

Once outside, I jogged up one of the
hills behind the house.
Still no bars.
Frustrated and
desperate, I chucked the phone against the nearest tree and the battery cover
flew off. It felt good for a second or two, but in a moment of weakness, I fell
to my knees and let a few desperate sobs escape my mouth.

“Hey, hello,” a woman’s voice called from
over near the house. “Excuse me.”

I looked up to see the same silver
Cadillac from the night before parked by the front door and the brunette lady
walking towards me.

A million worst-case scenario thoughts
ran through my head, jumbling together to the point that I could not compose a
single sentence. All I could think about is how angry Ash would be if he knew I
had left the safe confines of the house, left our son inside alone, and possibly
broke my prepaid phone on top of everything else.

“Sweetie, are you alright?” She was
standing in front of me by then, reaching down to help me up.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. I wiped bits
of crushed leaves and dirt off my jeans and took a deep breath.

“Why were you out here? Why were you
crying? Do you live in this house?” The woman had a lot of questions.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” It was my way
of politely asking her to identify
herself
.

“I’m Mary Jane Sweet,” she said,
extending her right hand. “This used to be my grandmother’s house. Well, it was
until my father ran it into the ground and the bank took it.”

“I see. I’m sorry.” I had to be careful
with what information I freely gave away. Little by little, I took baby steps
closer and closer to the house.

“I stopped out here yesterday,” Mary Jane
began. “I’m not sure if you weren’t home or you just didn’t want to answer the
door for a stranger. I wouldn’t have either.” She smiled a sympathetic smile. I
live about an hour west of here. I haven’t been out to my grandmother’s old
house in probably ten years. I guess I’ve just been feeling a little nostalgic
lately.”

“I understand,” I replied.

Mary Jane’s eyes were dark and deep and
her lashes were a mile long, like my mother’s. “Anyway, I saw that the yard and
everything is really well kept, so I figured someone was living here. I was
hoping I might get to see the inside one last time.”

I didn’t know what to say to her request.

“I know you probably think I’m some kind
of nut job or something. I know I have a lot of nerve asking to tour your house.”

“It is a strange request. I’ll have to
ask my husband about it and get back to you.”

I suddenly remembered Tuck and his fever
and the fact that I had no phone and no wheels. “I have a strange request
myself.”

Mary Jane, amused, said, “Okay, shoot.”

My one-year-old son is inside with a
fever of 104. My husband has the car, and I can’t get a hold of him at the
moment. Would you be able to take us into town?”

It seemed absolutely insane, I knew, but
I had no other choice.

“Are you kidding me? You have a sick
little boy inside and you let me stand out here yapping? Grab him and get in
the car. We’re taking him into town.” She made a beeline for her car and
started it up.

“Thank you so much, Mary Jane,” I yelled
as I ran inside to get him. “I’ll be right back.”

Within minutes I had grabbed Tuck, his
diaper bag, and his car seat and returned outside to find Mary Jane making room
in her backseat for Tuck’s things.

“I really appreciate this,” I said. I
buckled Tuck in and climbed into the front passenger seat.

“My grandmother always said things happen
for a reason,” she said as she clicked her seatbelt and threw her car into
reverse. “There’s a reason we met today. Don’t you think?”