Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) (39 page)

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Authors: Freya Barker

Tags: #sex trade, #Human trafficking, #Maine, #FBI, #drama

BOOK: Through Fire (Portland, ME #3)
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I’m a reasonable person. It only took me two orgasms to come to the same conclusion.

This morning, I was treated to a Standard Bakery breakfast—delivered in bed this time. I didn’t want to come out. I just wanted to stay in bed with Tim, scanning through some options for the bedroom layout on his laptop and generally lazing about like we’d done most of yesterday.

Tim had to go to work, though, this big order needed taking care of and he’d already taken Monday off. As it is, it looks like his plans for the basement are going to be difficult considering the timeline for that order runs about parallel. But this morning, he’d wanted to make sure we both had a good start to the day, which he certainly took care of, in more ways than one.

“Diced, girl. Not minced,”  Dino’s voice pulls me from my daydream, and I see that I have very much minced the onions. With a deep sigh, I scrape them into a container to be used for something else, and fetch a few more onions from the walk-in cooling.

Peeling the first onion, I throw a look at Dino, who’s putting a rub on some steaks. His shoulders look slumped, like he’s trying to disappear into himself. “How are you really doing?” I say in a soft voice, but loud enough for him to hear. At first, my only response is a deep sigh and thinking I’m being shut out, I turn back to the onion on the cutting board.

My mind is already wandering again by the time he starts talking. “She walked out,” he says, surprising me with the broken rasp of his voice. I struggle not to react, feeling instinctively that if I do; he’ll shut back down. So I dice my onion, patiently waiting for him to say something more. I don’t have to wait long. “Things weren’t right for a long time. Fuck, maybe they never were. Somewhere along the line, she got hooked on meds. Didn’t matter what I said, or how often I forced her to agree to detox, the moment she was home and I left for work, she was back at it again.” He takes a break and I chance a quick look. His head is tilted to the ceiling and he’s swallowing hard, so I quickly turn back to my cutting board. “We had an envelope with cash for the kids’ Christmas presents in our dresser drawer. She blamed Jonas, and for three fucking weeks I gave that kid hell.” His voice is steadily growing louder. “Then I discover she’d been lying. She’d taken it herself, bought drugs, and blamed her own fucking son for it!” I drop the knife on the board, startled by his sudden volume. When I turn to him, he’s leaning heavily on the counter, his head hanging low. But the moment I start moving in his direction, his hand comes up, warding me off. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” I agree, sounding much more flippant than I feel. I turn back to the cutting board and tackle the next onion, trying hard to ignore the footsteps that eventually come my way.

“You know what the final straw was?” he asks from right behind me. It doesn’t really require an answer. “She said it had been the only way to survive her nightmare of a life.” His laugh is low and lacking any humor. “I’m surrounded by women, who crawl on hands and knees through hell and still come out fighting for another go, and she thinks her life is a nightmare? She gave up before she even started, Ruby. Had a guy who would do everything for her, two amazing kids, a decent life. You didn’t even know a life like hers could exist, but you fought for it anyway. So did Syd, and Viv. Not Jeannie. She never had it in her. And I was too stupid to see.”

I finally turn around and simply wrap my arms around his big body. It takes a minute, but then his big arms close around me.

“Everything okay?” Gunnar’s voice sounds from the doorway. I drop my arms immediately but Dino takes his time letting go.

“S’all good,” Dino mutters, going back to his steaks without even looking at Gunnar.

I put on my best smile, and look a concerned Gunnar straight in the eyes. “Everything’s fine,” I assure him, and I watch him grant Dino one more look before he gives me one back.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” he says, as he walks over and gives me a hug. “Tim is a lucky man.”

All I can do is nod my thanks as he gives me a  little pat on my shoulder before leaving the kitchen.

By the time Tim comes to pick me up, I’m dead on my feet and therefore emotional. Today turned out much better than I thought.  I’m sad Dino is hurting, but I know he deserves much better than what he’s endured. I’m grateful I was able to be a friend to him, like he’s been to me so many times now.

“Want to have a drink or go straight home?” he asks.

“Home,” I echo him, still getting a little thrill each time I use that word.

T
im

When I get to the warehouse, Dad and Mark are already hard at it. A decent stack of the special design trays are stacked on a trolley. Mark actually surprised me in the last few weeks. For a guy who never showed much interest in woodworking, not like Dad or me, he seems to know what he’s doing with the new planer. All the trays are perfectly smooth and level, ready for the custom brand.

“Good work,” I compliment him before turning to Dad. “How many did you get done?”

“Seventy five yesterday and almost fifty today,” he says, a big grin on his face. The old man is having fun, but I don’t want him to overdo it.

“Awesome. And it’s just three o’clock now. Why don’t you head home, Dad?  I’m staying until I have to pick Ruby up from work. If I can keep at the rate you guys are pumping them out, we can probably get an even hundred done.” I mentally calculate how long the whole process will take and realize it might give me just enough time to get that special project I have in mind for Nina done.

“Let me finish up the full fifty, Son, and I’ll go see what your mother’s been up to all day without me keeping her in check,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

Mark snorts. “You sure it’s not the other way around?” he teases Dad, who looks at him with squinted eyes.

“Guess you already forgot that heavy-assed tank you returned to the rental place yesterday, didn’t you? Fucking helium balloons. Half the time I don’t know what that woman’s thinking,” he mutters, making it sound like doesn’t enjoy my mother’s brand of crazy, when we all know he’d be bored without her. My guess is that’s why their marriage survived. They would miss the bickering and the crazy antics; it keeps life interesting.

Dad leaves as agreed when he’s fulfilled his self-imposed quota, but Mark stays and we work well together in silence for a few hours. I’m surprised to find it’s already seven.

“Are you not hungry?” I ask him. He’s been here all day. “You should head out, get some rest. Between yesterday and today, we’ve got well over half done.”

“Nah. Nothing waiting but an empty house. I’ll stick it out here, but call for pizza,” he answers with a wink before bending back to his work. I hear a wistfulness in his voice I’m not used to. Not like my cocky brother.

I order us some pizzas and grab a pencil and my sketchpad, while Mark finishes running the last of the trays through the big machine. I’m so engrossed in my design, I don’t notice he’s done until the cavernous space is suddenly plunged in silence. Mark hurries to the door, where a disgruntled pizza delivery kid appears to have been banging on the door for a while. Shit. Mark grabs the boxes and the bag of drinks and I quickly pay the boy, and give him a tip for his trouble. Need to get a loud bell or something installed. I leave the door open. It’s not too cool out, and a light breeze blows in the smells and sounds from the bay. Mark’s hoists himself up on a stack of lumber and I follow suit, grabbing one of the boxes on my lap.

“Hope you tipped him well. You should know there’s little more important to keep a good relationship with the pizza delivery boy,” Mark jokes, but it tells me a bit about where his head’s at.

“Course I did. Was single for forty-three years, remember?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly he gives my shoulder a shove and smiles. “Mom went nuts, didn’t she?” he chuckles.

“With the balloons? You’re not kidding. Ninety-five fucking balloons,” I shake my head.

“That too, but I mean when she finally clued in that she’d not only gained a daughter but a granddaughter too. Thought for sure she was gonna break that poor girl’s bones.”

I smile thinking about Nina’s face while Mom was assaulting her. Poor girl had been shocked as shit at first, but ended up patting Mom on the back a bit awkwardly, in an attempt to get her to stop wailing. She can’t have had much physical love, growing up in an orphanage. Something Ruby already started making up for. I’m being a bit  more cautious, for obvious reasons, letting it all come from her.

“Are you ever scared?” Mark, who’s been eating quietly beside me suddenly asks. This time I instinctively know what he’s asking.

“Often,” I answer honestly. “I’ll lie awake at night, listening to Ruby breathing, and I realize how fucking much I have to lose now. It’s terrifying. But then she shifts against me, and I realize she has even more to lose. Yet there she is, deep asleep and at peace as long as she has me to hang on to.”

“I thought I had that once,” he says. “But I can see now it wasn’t even in the ballpark. I don’t know, man,” he says, biting off half a slice of pizza, but chewing doesn’t seem to interfere with talking. “Been keeping myself pretty unavailable, but recently I’ve been wondering...”

“Scary as shit, and not always easy, but worth every fucking second.” I pause for a minute before I ask. “Who’s she?” His head swings around.

“What?”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.” I smile when he rolls his eyes.

“Claudia. Talked to her a few times, she’s nice,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“The doc? Yeah. She’s nice. I’ve got a great recipe for Chiles Renellos you can impress her with,” I tease him, as I jump down and wipe my hands on my jeans and down the last of my drink. “Don’t try and find the safest way first—just jump.” He watches me for a second before he nods. “Alright, enough of this fucking girl talk. Let me show you something I want to work on for a few hours.” I grab the sketchpad and show him the design.

-

“H
ome,” she says with a little smile on her pretty mouth. No way I can ignore the invitation, so I lower my head and kiss those lips, sliding my tongue between them for a taste.

“Say goodbye, then,” I prompt her, pulling back a little before giving her another hard, closemouthed kiss.

We’re home fifteen minutes later. Ruby goes straight for the kitchen to grab us drinks, and I flick on a few lights, making myself comfortable on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. I watch her walk in, a bottle of water and a beer in her hands. I lift my arm in invitation and she settles herself beside me on the couch, handing me my drink before she pulls my arm around her and snuggles in.

“Dino’s wife left,” she quietly says. “I knew something was off and he finally told me. He’s so sad. I don’t think he’s told anybody yet, although everyone knows something is up with him.”

I feel for the big guy. I’d only met his wife a few times, and she seemed unnaturally quiet. Not at all what I would’ve expected for him. Nothing I can say, so I squeeze Ruby’s shoulder. “Mark is lonely,” I confide to her. “Did you know he was married before? Long time ago—he was still young—but it left a mark.”

“That’s sad too,” Ruby muses.

“Yeah. He asked me tonight if I was scared.” Ruby tilts her head back to find my eyes on her.

“What did you tell him?” She seems to understand the question instinctively as well.

“The truth,” I explain to her with a smile. “I’m terrified. Afraid to lose this.” I emphasize my words with a kiss on the tip of her nose. “But with you in my arms, I’m more afraid of not having it at all.” Ruby tilts her head up to press a kiss to my lips.

“Me too,” she admits, snuggling back into my shoulder. “It’s a bit of a rude awakening to discover the world keeps on turning around us. Things happen we have no control over and leave a mark, but if at the end of the day, I can come home to you, I can handle whatever comes my way.”

“Ditto,” I mutter with my face pressed in her hair.

R
uby

“Are you ready?”

Tim sticks his head around the bedroom door. Today we can go pick up Nina at the shelter, and I want to make sure her room is perfect. Oh, she’s come shopping—there wasn’t a chance in hell Jane would not drag her new
granddaughter
with her—but she’s not seen it all put together. That’s something Tim and I wanted to do ourselves. Jane was not pleased, but Tim put his foot down and told her she was welcome to organize any shopping with me, but the first one to see the room finished would be Nina.

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