Page 57 of Gifts

“You give me some time, I’ll figure this out. Until then, know I’ll keep you safe. Believe in that.”

I fist his shirt, and as much as I don’t want him to be the one to comfort me, he does. It feels cathartic to be held, to melt into him, and even for him to make pledges he can’t live up to, because in the end, no one can promise the gift of security or longevity. Life doesn’t work that way. It’s left up to chance, timing, or, at best, a fluke—whichever way one’s coin falls in the game of life.

Today, my coin landing tails up was a big, fat slap in the face, reminding me these precious tokens in life can be rattled and shaken with no notice.

“Let it out, baby.” Asa’s hand runs up and down my bare back while he strokes my hair, his words rumbling in his chest, vibrating against mine. “You’ll feel better.”

Feeling better is a notion I’m not familiar with. I’m more of a getting through kind of gal, but he wouldn’t know this. I almost feel sorry for him if he thinks he’s the one to best that challenge.

His hands continue their ministrations on my back, my hair, and even my ass as he whispers words that should make anyone feel better. I don’t know how long it takes, but as my breaths even, I fall deeper. The last thing I remember is his touch.

*****

Asa

She finally fell asleep in my arms with my hand tucked into the elastic of her loose pants, resting on the swell of her bare ass. I knew she was holding it in, but I’ve never seen anything like what I just experienced—not even from Emma.

I don’t know how long we lay like this, but her grip on my shirt finally loosens as I continue to stroke her back. My phone in my back pocket has been vibrating against my ass almost continually for the last hour. When I feel like she’s in a deep enough sleep, I roll her to her back and untangle myself.

As I make my way down her staircase without a noise, I flip lights off as I go. It’s fucking crazy to feel safer in the dark, but after working so many years in what can only be considered the depths of hell, it’s how I’ve learned to feel secure. I pull my phone out of my pocket and step out onto Keelie’s construction zone of a porch and make eye contact with Ozzie where he’s standing at his post about twenty yards away. I nod before looking back to my phone and ignore all the texts and emails I have and dial Crew. He can get me up to speed faster than me weeding through all the shit on my phone.

When Crew answers, I hear echoed voices in the background and it’s familiar enough, I know he’s at his camp in one of the sheds.

“You caught up on everything?” he clips.

“No.” I scan the darkness and barely see movement through the forest toward the road on Keelie’s property line. It’s early spring, the trees are just starting to bud, otherwise it would be a wall of green. “I see them working now. They about done?”

“They will be in an hour or two,” he confirms.

Security is my area and even with as much as I did for my house, today proved it’s all shit when someone can drive up in front of it. But not here. Keelie’s got a barrier of forest and space between the road and other properties. Her security system was shit, basically rounded down to a few glass breakage detectors. That’s nothing when her house sits on all this land.

Crew goes on. “I’ll let you know when it’s live. It’ll be added to your feed and if you want, Grady, Carson, and I can add it to ours until shit settles down.”

“Do it.” The more eyes I have on her house the better, even though I plan on us being here every night for the time being. “What else?”

“Jarvis flew in from Columbia today. I brought him up to speed and told him about our friend Raymond Wallace. He doesn’t have another assignment for a few days—he’s gonna poke around.”

Jarvis poking around. That should be interesting.

“Your house is boarded up and new motion detectors have been installed around the perimeter with silent alarms so we don’t scare anyone off. It’d be nice to lure them in if they come back.”

“I still don’t know why someone targeted Levi at school,” I say. “It has to be related. The name of the kid who planted the shit in his locker is Terry Mosher. If Jarvis has time to poke around, give him that name, too. I also want to find Dooley, the guy Raymond Wallace worked for. Our contacts have come up with nothing. See what Jarvis can find there.”

“Done,” he clips.

“I just want information. Don’t let Jarvis go rogue on anyone,” I add.

Crew chuckles into the phone. “Good point.”

“Unless he finds out who almost killed my daughter and Keelie,” I amend, lowering my voice. “Then he can go rogue and dump their bodies in the Potomac.”

“We’re on American soil. Let’s just see what he has to say first.” Crew sighs and the background noise goes quiet. “Everyone good there? Grady was on Emma-duty until you got there today and said she was far from okay.”

“I can’t get a read on Emma on a good day and Keelie was like a fuckin’ robot until she got her kids to bed. She’s asleep now, but it was rough before that.” I run my hand down my face and let out a big breath. “Danielle freaked the fuck out. Making all kinds of demands—she wants the kids in California as soon as tomorrow. No way am I going to let that happen.”

“Damn. She’s always been decent about the kids, maybe she’ll come around. I’ll let you know when the system is up. Ozzie will stay ‘til then. Go take care of your family,” he pauses, and then I hear a smirk in his voice, “and everyone else.”

I shake my head and move back for the house. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”

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