Survivor (The Soul Mates Series Book 1) (21 page)

“Whenever things go a bit sour in a job I’m doing,

I always tell myself,

You can do better than this.”

Dr. Seuss and Mr. Geisel – 1995

“Ma’am, please understand your neighbor has offered you compensation for your damaged mailbox.  I think you should take it.”

“I will not take it.  You need to arrest him, slap the cuffs on him, put him in the slammer!”  Mrs. Collins was a crotchety old bird at the best of times, she’d been living in her home for about sixty years and so had her neighbor, Old Man Johns.  Their relationship was apparently legendary, she hated him and he really loved her.  The problem was that he loved her and had no idea how to show it and for some insane reason had chosen to express it via criminal damage this time.

This was my life, day to day bull shit.  I’d gone from serious crime fighting to managing complete nonsense for Rockton and the three bordering towns.

“Are you sure you want me to arrest him?  He’s eighty five and probably wouldn’t survive the hard stint at County.”  There was no way on this earth I was arresting that old coot, but I needed her to stop insisting it, otherwise I was going to be having some ugly words with her about wasting police time.  Forget wasting police time, she was just proving to me that my life was going nowhere.

“I’ll let it go this time Sheriff, but he needs to repair my damn mailbox.”

“OK.”

“And paint my yard fence.”

“I’ll put that too him.”

“And mow my lawns every other week on a Tuesday at 5pm until the devil takes his ass outta here.”

“I’m sure he’ll oblige,” we all knew he would, the whole town was in this dance with them and now she’d engineered a way to have him over for dinner without losing face.

“Good day to you Sheriff,” was the last I heard as her and her trusty shopping trolley bustled out of my station.

I couldn’t decide whether I envied those two old birds or pitied them.  They’d been dancing this same routine for decades instead of just coming out and saying how they felt.  One day it would be too late, surely people of their age knew that life was fucking short and could be snatched away in an instant.

I was feeling the pain from that lesson.

Building a house from scratch, stick by timber stick, hammering every nail in with my own hands had taught me that.

Getting asked to replace the retiring sheriff wasn’t really my plan.  He decided that him and his wife had given enough to the town and figured it was time for them to concentrate on each other.  In short, the town owed him his life back and his wife.  So I took it and stepped into his job, with a few conditions.  I wanted a gig ass jeep, not some stupid tin can police issue car that I would look ridiculous in and I refused to wear a uniform.  I was more Banshee sheriff than NYPD Blues sheriff.  I could conform to society rules but I learned quickly that the job was a lot easier if I blended in rather than looked all uniform.  I guess I wasn’t ready to drop all of my undercover teachings.  So I pinned the badge on my shirt daily and went about my usual mundane shit.

I’m convinced that my old man talked the last sheriff into delaying his retirement until the house project was complete.  It wasn’t long before I realized that creating a house from the ground up was his preferred method of enforced therapy.  The timing was right, I was getting kind of bored and restless trying to force myself to think about what life post house build could be.  The offer came up, and some departmental finance cuts meant that they needed someone younger to manage the increased footprint in jurisdiction and scope.  I couldn’t think of a reason not to do it, so I decided to go with fate and the opportunity that had landed in my lap.

It turns out it was good for me, the hours were a little bit erratic, but it forced me to become more sociable.  Even I could see I was becoming a grumpy twat and it meant that I got to utilize the skills I’d given years of my life obtaining.

Until something better happened, I was going to stick with it and in all honesty I knew my old man loved having me around.  We were all we both had left now. 

I became a fan of the one night stands and random hook ups, they actually taught me a lot.  I learned that going through the motions to get my rocks off helped keep my heart under lock and key, but I was careful to cut them off before they could bloom any further.  I wasn’t entirely convinced I’d sorted my head out after last time and until I was certain, it was safer for my mental state if I just didn’t go there.

“Going home for lunch Betsy,” I told my station administrator as I passed the front desk.

“Sure thing boss man, later.”

I lunched with dad most days, it was a routine we’d fallen into.  It wasn’t like either of us had anything better to do and it made him laugh to hear me bitch about the ridiculous antics some of his pals seemed to enjoy getting into.

The gate to the junk yard was open and a sparkly new rental was parked by the back door.  Midday guests, that’s new.  I walked through the door and heard chairs scraping across the floor quickly, “Sorry, I’ll go,” I heard from a female voice that stopped me in my tracks.

I knew that voice.  I heard it in my dreams or nightmares as they usually were.  This had to be wrong and some kind of sick joke, but I got there just as the female was about to bolt through the back door.

“Stop,” I commanded.  The woman in question did, her back was ram rod straight and she was wearing jeans and a button down blouse.  Her thick brown hair was long with blonde streaks in it and it hung just past her shoulders.

“Son,” my dad said with caution as he began to walk in my direction.

“Turn around,” I demanded.  I wouldn’t know if I was seeing things or imagining this until I could see the face attached to the body.  I needed confirmation that my dad’s visitor was someone else.

“Son, listen…” he began again.

“Turn the fuck around now!” I boomed, completely ignoring him.  I watched her flex her fingers in contemplation.  I knew those fingers, I’d watched every dainty inch of them wrap around my cock and give me pleasure and satisfaction like I’d never had before.

Her body started to slowly pivot.  I watched her feet and then raised my eyes up her legs, taking my time moving up her frame.  I needed to give myself chance to brace for what I was expecting to see.  I was mesmerized by her hair swinging with her body’s motion as I worked up the courage to look at her face.

I was terrified it would be her.

It was her.

The face I’d cried over and raged over, that same face that haunts me because I didn’t keep her safe.  I had memorized every feature on her face because it was the most beautiful thing I was never going to get to see again.  Stood in front of me now, she had a touch of makeup on, her frame had filled out a bit and she was no longer just athletically beautiful, she was astonishingly beautiful and sexy and… here.

“Get out,” I whispered desperately pulling back the fury that was screaming to take over me.

“Ross…” her eyes, her teasing eyes had tears forming in the corners.

“Get the fuck out and never come back!” I finally roared, letting the barbarian free.

I watched as the woman I’d once loved, nodded her head in resigned acceptance and headed for the back kitchen door.  I stepped to the kitchen table chairs and placed my hands on the back of them, I needed the support and I was a millisecond from either passing out or destroying the next thing I came into contact with.

“Sam…” she choked through a sob.

“We’ll talk later Mouse,” he replied dismissing her but keeping a watchful eye on me.  This was a smart move on his part.  Even I didn’t know which way this was going to go, so him being cautious and on guard was the very best thing for both of us.

I tried to keep my stare and concentration on the kitchen table as I heard her steps crunch over the hardcore, but I couldn’t.  I followed her with my eyes until she was out of sight and then I continued to hold my breath until I heard the car she was in, pull away.  “Please, tell me you’re as fuckin’ shocked about that as I am?”

“Son…”

Obviously not then, he always started the speeches where he delivered bad news with ‘son’.  “Please tell me I’m wrong.  You did not watch me turn myself inside out with pain over not goin’ after her and the grief over losing her, knowin’ she was alive.”

He didn’t answer me and we glared at each other for a while until it was my turn for fight or flight.  I figured the sheriff pummeling the living shit out of his dad wouldn’t be well received, so I walked away, feeling so angry I thought I was going to shatter at any moment.

All because I knew I’d been played.

“She’s at the motel,” I heard him shout as I stalked across the yard to my house.

I got the hell out of there as quickly as I could.

The Ross I’d seen was a scary one, not one I’d been living with or had seen very often.  I suspected it was really Jake that I’d seen, the guy in Sam’s kitchen looked terrifying and I knew it was not the right time to try and talk to him.

I shouldn’t have arrived unannounced, but Sam assured me he’d be at work.  I assumed he was away undercover on another job and did not expect him to walk through the door wearing a sheriff’s badge.  Maybe telling Sam all those months ago that I didn’t want to know anything was a bad idea.  In my heart I knew if he was struggling I would have chucked it all in and gone to him. I couldn’t have stayed knowing the suffering I’d caused.

The last year was the first time ever that I felt the desire to run towards something rather than run away for as long as I can remember.

I knew it was going to be hard seeing him, but that was beyond hard, it was harrowing, being so close and not being able to touch him was painful.  Everything I remembered about him in such vivid and exact detail was spot on.  He still commanded a room with his presence.  The inked art work covering his visible skin was electric, it’s hue made it clear he had spent some time vacationing in the sun.  The dark tone of his skin glistened with sun kissed beauty and I had to restrain my fingers from reaching out and running along the designs like I used to do.

God,
like I used to do
.  That seems like a life time ago.  So much had changed and I was crazy to have assumed his life had remained exact, whereas mine couldn’t be more different.

Antonia Acerbi was truly gone and I’d embraced Cara Wilkes because I found the ultimate reason to carry on.

Mom was waiting in the window of the motel room, I’m sure her nerves were as frayed as mine.  “How did it go?” she asked as I walked through the door.  I finally released the tears that had been threatening on my drive over here which pretty much answered her question.  “Ssh, come on now. It was always going to be a shock.”

“I know but holy hell, he was so mad and the look of disdain and hatred on his face.  I didn’t hang around to try and talk to him.  It was just awful.”

My mom soothed me, like she used to do when I was a child and had fallen out with my brothers.  It didn’t take much for her to wrap me up in her arms, she was still making up for years of lost time.  “The first step is done.  Now we just wait and then try again.”

“What if he never wants to see me again?”  It was a real possibility that I was beginning to realize I would have to face.

“Then we’ll deal with that like we’ve dealt with everything else, together.  We pick ourselves up and we carry on.”

Mom was right.

I’d thrown myself into life the last year, well as much as I could.  I went with the theory of exhausting myself during the day so I could collapse and sleep at night.

We made a pact, only to share the stuff from our past that we’d missed out on if it was a happy time.  I soon realized I didn’t have a lot to share, whereas my mom did and that was the biggest sign that I’d made the right decision.  Killing Antonia so young, enabled me to look forward to years and years of a decent future.  If I hadn’t have gone along with it and I had been lucky enough to out run them, looking back on my life would have been suicidal and depressing.

Doing it this way gave me the real freedom to be whoever I wanted to be, rather than the temporary freedom that I existed on whilst running.

I settled into ranch life as much as was reasonably possible.  I knew I wouldn’t be staying forever and always having that in my mind stopped me from getting too comfortable and familiar.  The last thing I wanted was to be so comfy that I had yet another decision to make about leaving.

Sam and I kept in constant contact via post.  I was sending frequent letters to a PO Box and even though we’d agreed the no sharing rule, I still scoured his words for any hint that Ross wasn’t coping or had moved on.

It was only recently that I decided the time was right to try and make contact with him, when I’d written and asked if it was a bad idea, he told me that the timing was perfect.

Well… not from what I saw today.

Guiseppe was rarely around, it was too dangerous for him to travel back and to.  If someone suspected and decided to look into any of his routines he would have not only been giving me away, but our mom.  However he’d found this place, it was clear he needed it as a sanctuary for the future, the guy had destroyed his own life for us and I wasn’t about to take away the one place he felt safe at.

Any contact he made came with information, he kept me up to date with my brother’s progress and a few things pertinent to me, like Raven.  It turns out he’d helped Jonas put her somewhere safe before tying up that particular line of business.  A few risky maneuvers on a senator and the honey trap was at risk of being exposed.  The firm thought Raven had gone to feed the fish, whereas she was really finishing high school under yet another fake identity he’d created.  She was now looking forward to applying for colleges and putting that part of her life behind her.

I never enquired about our father, it wasn’t fair to any of us.  Mom had ended that part of her life years ago and didn’t want to be reminded of any of her time with him.  Guiseppe was trying to end his life with him and was desperate to forget it, so mom and I did our best not to ask him about things.  For me, it was like trying to seal the lid on a brain box full of memories and bury them deep.  Our father had hurt a lot of people and god willing his time on this earth will be short and if it wasn’t going to be I wanted the next best option, painful.

“I think the bathtub is ready, go and do bath time,” she told me with a smile.

“OK, I need the distraction.”  I stood up and headed for the one thing that kept me going all this time.  As I was closing the bathroom door a fist thumped against the main motel room door.  “I’ll answer that, you do this.”

There were only three people who knew where we were, Guiseppe, Old Sam and Ross.  Guiseppe would call, he’d never follow us and risk exposing us.  Old Sam wouldn’t knock so aggressively, which meant there was only one candidate.

Ross.

I opened the door and like an imposing mountain before me, I steeled myself against the tirade I was sure he was here to deliver.  I needed to be sure he was in a better frame of mind before I let him in this room. “Ross, I’m sorry about before, I would never have called just like that, but I thought you were at work.”

“I was.  Are you going to let me in?”

I wanted nothing more, but caution was my best friend in times of uncertainty.  “I think we should probably meet somewhere else.  Somewhere neutral like the coffee shop.” I suggested.

Ross shook his head and moved his hands to run his fingers through his thick hair in frustration.  As he was about to turn and stalk off, he heard the sound of what I’d been hoping to avoid, and trying to guard against.

A happy squeal.

An infant’s giggle.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Nothing.  Coffee shop then, half an hour?” I persisted.  I always was rubbish at lying.

“Open the door.  Now.  I’m guessin’ you won’t take kindly to me bustin’ the fuckin’ door in right now.”

I warred with the decision of standing my ground, Ross’s eyes challenged me to test him and I knew I was teasing the monster and his temper by doing anything other than complying.  “Please stay calm, promise me.”

He didn’t move an inch as I reversed through the doorway, keeping my eyes locked on him, watching him take in the surroundings and process it.

Suitcases stuffed with clothes.

A bright colored Stroller.

A farm animal play mat.

Toys, lots of little toys.

“What the…” he mumbled just as my mom started to sing, ‘I am the Lorax’ in the bathroom and despite the tenseness in the room it still made me smile, she used to do this when I was young and needed comfort.

This was it.  There was no stopping this train, it was really out of control now.  Opening the bathroom door quickly, he came face to face with my supposedly dead mother and his son having a bath before he went down for a nap.

“Ross, this is my mom and… and… Jake.  My son, Jake. Our son, Jake.