In Seconds

12

When Vivian opened her eyes, she wasn’t staring at her bedroom ceiling, as usual. She was looking up at the high plaster ceiling of her living room. Why? She never slept anywhere except her bedroom. Not unless she dozed off at her design table downstairs. That happened occasionally during her busiest season. She wasn’t quite as far along as she wanted to be. There was a lot to do, but she had a few weeks before she had to finish her designs for next spring. They didn’t go to the wholesalers until September.

Then the reason everything was so different came to her—Rex. He’d been in her house, waiting for her last night.

She rolled off the couch and landed hard on the floor before she woke up enough to move with any coordination. But the thump brought no reaction from anyone else and that made her frantic. Where was he? She hadn’t dreamed that he’d shown up, had she?

After the stomach-churning worry of the past few days, she thought maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her. Maybe it’d fooled her into believing he was okay, that they were all safe for the time being, so she could get some rest…?.

Only when she spotted the blanket she’d given him, cast aside near the easy chair he’d sat on while they talked, did she know it’d been real.

“Rex?” she called.

No answer. Surely he hadn’t left without saying goodbye.

“Pretty Boy?” She switched to the nickname he’d had while he belonged to The Crew. That was how she preferred to remember him because it hailed back to the good feelings they’d had for each other before everything fell apart. Besides, his nickname fit him well. He didn’t look anything like the other members of the gang, most of whom prided themselves on their tattoos and over-muscled physiques, even their scars. Rex was on the tall side—and thanks to a metabolism that ran like a turbine engine, he was lean and lithe. He had trouble keeping weight on even when he wasn’t using drugs. He had no tattoos or injuries that hadn’t healed perfectly, despite all the fighting he’d been involved in over the years. But he had other scars, on the inside. And they were deep, so deep Vivian didn’t think he’d ever be completely whole, which was why she couldn’t be part of his life.

The muted sound of someone speaking elsewhere in the house reached her ears. He was here, all right. On the phone. Probably talking to Virgil. Although her brother hadn’t picked up, they’d tried to call him last night.

Following Rex’s voice, she located him in her basement. He’d left the living room so he wouldn’t wake her. But she needed to get up. They had some decisions to make before her children came home.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

His green eyes shifted toward her. Those eyes could be so vulnerable, so innocent despite all he’d been and done. But they were simply matter-of-fact now. “I’m sure…?. Yeah, your sister’s here…?. I’ll tell her…?. Got it…?. Right. Bye.”

“My brother didn’t want to talk to me?” She sat in her work chair but swiveled to face him.

“He said he’d catch you later. He’s got stuff to do.”

“Like…”

“Researching what’s happening inside The Crew.” Slouching on the small secondhand couch she’d placed in the corner, along with some toys and a TV for when her children joined her down here, he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. Had he slept at all last night? Didn’t look like it. Didn’t look like he’d slept in days. But he’d always lived on the edge, as if he could outdistance the ghosts that chased him merely by running his ass ragged. Vivian felt certain that the past few years would’ve killed a lesser man. She was afraid his choices would take him yet. The past week hadn’t been easy on him; she could see it in his rawboned, hollow-eyed face.

“You’re using again,” she said.

He regarded her from beneath half-lowered lids but didn’t respond.

“You have to stop. You know that. You have to pull your shit together, or…or you’re going to die, Rex. You’ll get in a shoot-out in some bar, or screw the wrong man’s woman, or go back to prison. Or overdose.” Her voice went low on those last two words because an overdose was what she feared most. She guessed there were times when he considered death a better alternative to living. That had to be the case, or he wouldn’t have spent so much of the past few years trying to destroy himself.

“I’m not using. But that’s beside the point.” Lying back, he slung an arm over his face. “You lost the right to bitch at me when you blew up our relationship.”

If it wasn’t drugs, it had to be alcohol. He claimed they hadn’t been able to reach him since he left for L.A. because he’d lost his phone charger, but if he’d been sober, he would’ve remedied that problem. “I blew up our relationship?”

“That’s right.”

“You broke up with me just as many times as I broke up with you.”

“But you knew I loved you.”

“I loved you, too. You—” Biting back the rest, she counted to ten before continuing. “I don’t want to argue about who’s to blame for what anymore. You have to come to terms with what happened to Jack or you’ll never have any peace.” Vivian couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Jack was such a taboo subject. His ghost had stood between them all along, because it stood between Rex and happiness. But maybe the time had come to speak the truth, no matter how painful.

He raised his arm so he could see her, his eyes taking on that glittery look she’d seen only when he was at his angriest. “Don’t start on Jack.”

“Pretty Boy, look—”

“Don’t call me that,” he said with a grimace.

He couldn’t identify with his old gang persona, or his new legitimate persona, either. He was lost in between, which was almost worse than being in prison. At least then he’d had some structure in his life.

She took a deep breath. “Fine. Rex. But someone has to get through to you. Your little brother—what…what happened to him—is at the root of all your problems.”

“Stop with the psychoanalysis. Prison’s enough to screw up anyone’s life.”

Virgil had gone to prison, too, but he’d been able to recover. Pretty Boy could’ve made good, if not for what was eating him up inside. He had a brother who was a doctor, another who was a chemical engineer. It wasn’t as if he came from a poor or underprivileged home. He would’ve ended up with an education and a good job if not for that one afternoon at the river, cliff diving with his youngest brother. “You didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”

“I challenged him!” The veins in his neck stood out as he shouted. “I told him I’d made that jump.”

She refused to allow her voice to rise with his. “You were just a kid.”

“So was he! Barely twelve years old. I knew he thought I could walk on water, that he’d believe me. I just…” Tears filled his eyes as he fell back. “I never dreamed he’d do it, and I never dreamed it would really hurt him even if he did.”

“Exactly. It was one of those freak accidents that happen sometimes. You screwed up, but you didn’t mean for him to die. Had he landed differently, he would’ve been fine. You have to let it go. You’re out of prison now, yet you’re throwing away any chance you have.”

Except for the anguish reflected in his eyes, he seemed to grapple with his emotions, finally gaining control. “Give it a rest, will you?”

She didn’t want to give it a rest. She wanted to rant and rave and stomp her feet just to relieve the tension. “I’m worried about you!”

“After what I told you last night, you should be worried about yourself.”

She hadn’t forgotten. He’d come to Montana because he’d heard she was in danger. He claimed he’d run into an old friend at a party in L.A., someone loosely affiliated with The Crew, who’d confided that Horse had been bragging to everyone who’d listen that he was about to get even with Virgil and his sister.

But Rex couldn’t tell her any more than that. And she suspected at least part of the reason he’d come was that he was hoping for some peace where she was concerned. Hadn’t she been hoping for the same thing?

“So…are you going to start packing?” he asked.

Did he expect a different answer than the one she’d given him last night? “No.”

“You’re joking, right?” He sat up. “I came all this way to warn you, to convince you, to help you get out of here before it’s too late.”

“You haven’t told anyone where I live—”

“You think I’d do that?”

She felt bad for offending him, but he had a substance-abuse problem that made him suspect. She still couldn’t imagine how The Crew could’ve traced her here without him. “They’d have no other way of finding me.”

A dark scowl etched lines in his face as he got to his feet. “How can you say that?”

After everything he’d done for her, she felt guilty enough to avert her eyes. “Or maybe Horse was drunk when he said he was poised for revenge. Maybe it was idle bullshit.”

“Horse doesn’t drink. He’s a serious man, a businessman. He’s methodical and thorough.”

“That doesn’t change my mind,” she insisted. “I won’t leave here, won’t let them chase me from place to place for the rest of my life. Don’t you understand? That would mean they’ve won. We want to stay put.”

He studied her for several seconds. “You’ve met someone.”

Her thoughts reverted to the sheriff, to his naked body moving against hers, and she felt…she wasn’t sure what she felt. Embarrassment? Remorse? “That’s not it. I want a life. And this is where I’ve chosen to live it.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Whatever you want. You’ve warned me. You don’t have to stay. But I know the kids would like to see you. Now that you’re here, you can hang around for a day or two, can’t you?”

“You want to treat this like a standard visit?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re in danger, damn it! You’re all in danger!”

“I’ve got a gun, Pretty—Rex,” she corrected. “And I’m not afraid to use it.”

“You mean the gun I took away from you last night?”

“You snuck up on me from behind!”

“Because I didn’t want you to blow my head off! But if you think they’ll announce their presence, you’re crazy. They’ll come here with two, three, maybe more. Be realistic, for Christ’s sake!”

She covered her face for a moment before dropping her hands. “I’m telling you, I can’t move. I can’t do it again. This is the end of the line for me, one way or another.”

With a curse, he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pace.

“So what are you going to do?” she asked after he’d made a few passes.

“Stay and try to take care of you, I guess.”

“They could’ve followed you.”

His razor stubble made a rasping sound as he rubbed his jaw. “They didn’t have to. They already know you’re here.”

The beating of Vivian’s heart thudded in her ears. He thought she was making a mistake. Was he right? Would she die in this house?

Jake, calling to her from upstairs, interrupted.

“M-o-o-o-m? Mom, where are you? I have something to show you!”

“Think of them,” Rex whispered.

She thought of how much Jake loved it here, how close he’d become to Nana Vera. And Mia, so happy in her ballet class and elementary school, despite Chrissy’s catty little girl. This was home to them. It was home to them all. And home was a place worth fighting for.

“That’s what I’m doing,” she said.

There was a woman in the kitchen. Ink could see her through the window. When the tow truck driver couldn’t tell them where Laurel lived, said he didn’t know her, they’d had to decide what they were going to do until they could find her. And first on the agenda was securing a base. They needed regular beds, food, a shower. Hell, even a toilet seemed like a luxury after the past several days. He knew they might have to resort to camping again at some point. If they didn’t collect the truck, and they couldn’t, the sheriff would know he had a problem, and he’d most likely start looking for them. But Ink couldn’t imagine his first thought would be to check all the cabins scattered in these mountains. There were too many of them, most of them rentals. Unless he got a distress call of some kind, he’d probably assume they’d hitchhiked into town, Libby if not Pineview, or left the area.

“You think she’s alone?” L.J. whispered.

They’d been watching the woman for more than thirty minutes, had cased the house and yard. This seemed like the perfect solution, just what they’d been searching for. It was within a few miles of where the truck had broken down, so they’d been able to walk here. It was remote, but not so far from Pineview that they’d have much of a drive to get to town when they wanted.

There were other attractive features, as well. The extra refrigerator in the garage suggested the place was well-stocked. An SUV sat in the driveway, so they’d have the transportation they were currently lacking. And it looked comfortable. Since they couldn’t pay for a motel room, couldn’t show any ID even if they’d had the money, Ink was going to get what they needed another way. “I’d say so.”

The grass rustled as L.J. crept a little closer. “But you never know. Someone could come home at any minute.”

“Then we’ll kill them, too.”

L.J. grimaced and shook his head. “I say we move on. This doesn’t feel right to me, and it must not feel right to you or we’d be inside that house already.”

In typical L.J. fashion, he couldn’t stay put for long. “Don’t give up too soon. This place has promise.” Why walk any farther? His back hurt like hell. Besides, the other cabins they’d come across were empty, which meant there’d be very few groceries, if any, and definitely no car. If they weren’t empty, they were filled with the suitcases and backpacks of outdoorsmen. The last thing he and L.J. needed was to break into some place that would have five or six men returning to it at nightfall—most toting a gun or a knife.

“There’ll be others,” L.J. muttered. But it didn’t hurt him to keep walking.

Ink tried to ignore him, but snapped, “Chill out,” when L.J. tugged on his sleeve.

“There’re toys in the yard, man.” Now they were getting to the real reason behind his reluctance. “That’s obviously a mom.”

“So? We knew it was a family when we saw that wooden plaque over the doorway.” The Rogers Family. What had L.J. thought when he saw that? Or had he thought at all?

“Kids live here. I don’t want to do no kids, man. You know what happens to guys who do kids once they hit prison. We’ll be in the hat for sure.”

Ink wasn’t going back to prison. He’d put a bullet in his own brain first. So what did he care about any kids? They were nothing to him. Less than nothing. It was the parents he was thinking about. Adults could be so unpredictable, especially when they were trying to protect their children. “I just want to be sure her husband’s not home. Our only other choice is to take on a bunch of hunters, and I promise this middle-aged bitch will be easier. You don’t want to get shot, do you?”

“No, but I don’t want to get caught, either.” L.J.’s scowl darkened as he stared across the clearing. “If this woman has a husband, we’re going to have to kill him, too. We’ll have to do it now if he’s home. Later if he’s not. And if either one of ’em goes missing, someone’s bound to come looking. That’ll lead the sheriff right to us. And that’s not smart, not if we plan on sticking around for a while.”

They were sticking around, all right. Ink wasn’t going anywhere until he found Laurel Hodges or whatever she called herself these days. But he hated to pass up an opportunity for immediate gratification. “This woman’s home alone.” He couldn’t get beyond that.

“For now!”

L.J. had a point. Part or all of a local family would be missed far sooner than a group of hunters who were visiting from out of state and weren’t expected home for a week or two. And hunters would be just as likely to have a vehicle and groceries. If they didn’t have enough food, a little shoplifting could fill in the gaps. Ink had already stolen a couple hundred bucks’ worth of snacks from the gas stations they’d visited since they escaped the California Men’s Colony, not to mention all that fishing and camping stuff. They’d even held up a liquor store in New Mexico and walked away with two hundred and eighty-four dollars in cash.

“What about that last cabin we came across?” Ink asked.

“What are you talking about?” L.J. was no longer following the conversation. A girl had come out onto the deck, proving that the woman inside wasn’t as alone as they’d thought. Her daughter was home, too. And what a daughter she was. With long dark hair, porn-star boobs and a tiny waist, she was curvy and cute, and she was wearing a skimpy bikini while talking on a cordless phone.

Just seeing her up close, within reach, made Ink crave much more than food. He was so sex-starved he could smell her from behind the screen of trees, and he could tell L.J. was equally affected. He was standing there like a statue, no longer trying to drag Ink away.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” L.J. murmured. “I vote we get a piece of that before we do anything else.”

Ink wanted her, too. He’d never seen tits that could compare to those. His injury meant he couldn’t get an erection anymore, but that hadn’t diminished his desire. He’d find some way to satisfy the craving, even if it was only by watching L.J. ride her. The sight of her made him feel young and strong again, more like himself than he’d felt in a long, long time.

But he had to think this through, figure it out. Could they drag her into the woods without her mother hearing? And if they succeeded, then what?

“I don’t know…” he said.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” L.J.’s voice was tight with desire. “We could take turns. Maybe keep her for a while.”

“And then what?”

“Let her go when we get outta here.”

“No. We can’t. You’re not thinking straight.”

L.J. whirled on him. “What? You gotta throw me a bone. I helped you bust out. You wouldn’t be here without me.”

Ink didn’t like acknowledging that, so he didn’t. “But if we rape her, we’ll have to kill her. Otherwise, she’ll be able to testify against us.”

“Maybe not. Maybe—”

“No maybes. Leaving her alive would be stupid. And, like you said, these people are people who’ll be missed. If she disappears, the sheriff will come knocking on every door up here. Hell, the whole damn community will start combing the area.”

L.J. didn’t respond. His attention had swung back to the girl with the razorlike focus of a mountain lion who’d spotted his first meal after a long famine. A moment before, he’d been so reluctant to harm this family. But the sight of Betty Big Boobs had thrown some sort of switch in his brain, given him fresh incentive to take what he wanted, and nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Not even the kids. That concerned Ink. If L.J. raped this girl, there’d be consequences. They’d have no choice but to run. And he hadn’t found Laurel.

Ink nudged him. “You listening to me?”

“We don’t have to kill her if we cover her head.” He groaned as she bent over to arrange a towel on the chaise. “Her other end is all I care about. Look at that tight, sweet ass.”

There was too much testosterone flooding through him. Ink sensed that he was losing control of his companion. “You think she’s just going to spread her legs and let you have your fun? That she won’t report what happened? Rape will bring the sheriff out here as fast as murder. We gotta let her be.”

“It won’t be rape. She wants it. I can tell. Look at the way she’s teasing us. I bet she knows we’re here. And it won’t take long. It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

This was crazy. Pulling the gun from his waistband, Ink pressed the tip of the barrel to the younger man’s head. “You’d better talk yourself down, little brother.”

“What the hell?” L.J. jerked away.

At his raised voice, the girl looked up, but if she’d heard him she was too engrossed in her telephone conversation to investigate. If Ink had his guess, she’d never had to fear anything in her life, didn’t know she had reason to be scared now.

“I said we’re going to leave her alone!” Ink whispered.

A sulky expression claimed L.J.’s face. “And do what instead?”

“Head back to the last cabin we passed.”

“But we counted the bags in that place! There are three or four guys staying there.”

“Yeah, well, with any luck, some of ’em won’t be guys, right?”

L.J.’s hand covered his heart, as if what he felt was more than lust. “If there’s a woman in the bunch, there’s no way she’s going to look like that!”

“Sometimes you have to take what you can get.”

“When you’re old and lame, maybe,” he muttered, and Ink nearly hit him with the gun. He would have, if he didn’t have to worry about noise.

“I’m going to forget you said that. For now.”

The threat in those last two words finally seemed to give him some leverage. “Oh, come on,” L.J. said. “It was a joke. You can take a joke, can’t you? I’m not going to take any risks.”

“You better not.”

“I won’t! But I don’t know if breaking into that other cabin is any smarter. It’s bad odds. Two against four. Or worse.”

“We’ll have the element of surprise on our side. No one gets back after a long day of hunting expecting an ambush.”