Connections: Conexiones (Mercenaries Book 3) Page 19

  Amy sagged inside her robe, head down. She brushed at her short hair, trying to pull it over her face, forgetting, Beckie guessed, about the new shorter do she sported. “I told you I was stupid—”

  “Damn, girl, you’re about as far from stupid as it’s possible to get! Never use that excuse with me!” Beckie took several deep breaths before realizing Amy had shied away. “No, I’m not going to… anything. Start again, please.”

  Amy straightened herself, pulling the robe back together. “So, okay. Maybe I’m not stupid, but… I can sure do stupid things.”

  “Don’t expect me to argue about that.” She gave a short humorless bark of a laugh. “I’ve got you beat all to hell and gone with stupid things I’ve done.”

  Amy looked up into Beckie’s face. “Well, I was sure it was what’s his name, you know, Flores, come back.” She stared at her hands, worrying at the injuries as if they belonged to someone else. “And then the car… there was a Thump and the car went sideways. I could see Dylan trying to save it, but it shot off the road and landed with a Thud before it hit the trees.” She lifted her head. “There was a bump and then a bang when we hit. I was holding the phone up to my ear, you know, and something slammed my arm. That’s when I dropped it, I guess. And my head bounced off something. I saw stars for a second.”

  She let her head sag again. “When I could see straight, I shoved the airbag away and looked. Dylan was lying against the wheel with the airbag between. He wasn’t moving. I thought he was dead… and while I watched, he slumped down onto the console. I was sure he was dead.

  “I opened the door and fell out. My shirt caught on something; hit my head again. There was a piece of glass right in my hand, and I thought… I thought, first, I like Abby and she’s dead, and now I like Dylan, and he’s dead… I don’t want anyone else to die, Beckie!” She broke down.

  It was easiest for Beckie to sit on Amy’s lap; she did, hugging the girl and trying to comfort her. When the sobbing had slowed to an occasional hiccup, she used her thumb to rub the tear tracks away. Amy soon took over, using her knuckle to shut the tears off.

  Beckie returned to her chair, and Amy took up her story. “So I had this sharp glass and I heard their car stop and I started to dig with the glass ‘cause they’d killed Dylan—”

  “Stop!” Amy’s words had been getting faster and faster as she relived the experience, and Beckie knew the ending, “their car” was Officer Westen’s and a major part of her fears were self-induced. Not that that made them less real, thinking of her own journey after Ian had told her to leave. She grabbed the robe and dragged Amy forward, clutching her to her shoulder. “It’s okay, girl. You know that was the cop, coming to help. You’re okay. We’ll keep you safe. Trust me.” Now I just hav’ta keep that promise.

  “I do… mostly. Just… sometimes, you know, that shack comes back all black and hot and… an’ those guys…”

  “I know. We’ll keep you safe.” She sat up. “Go over, sit on the sofa. I’ll throw a couple bags of dinner on and we’ll eat.”

  “Where’s Dylan? You think he’s… okay?”

  Beckie hurried back to Amy. “I think he’s okay. I expect he’s so okay the doctor’s making him wait his turn.” She slapped at Amy’s rump. “Now go sit down.”

  Amy and Dylan’s story hadn’t made the evening news. “No video,” Beckie said with a laugh. “Without video, there’s no reason to waste time on a couple kids.” Amy gave her a look, but then chuckled in agreement. They finished the ready-to-cook dinners and the newscast played, just loud enough to hear.

  A knock interrupted the forecast that the morning rain would clear in time for their drive back to Brewster for the closing on Thursday. Amy waved Beckie back to watch the rest of the weather.

  Beckie watched as the girl checked the peephole, and then out of the corner of her eye as Dylan came through the door and into Amy’s arms. “Beckie doesn’t want us to bother her. We’ll go…” Amy’s voice faded away.

  Beckie laughed to herself. I wonder if she’s—

  A little scuffle grabbed her attention. Amy and Dylan were whispering in obvious disagreement; she was pulling him toward the bedroom door, he was standing firm. As Beckie was about to stand and insert her assuredly unwelcome guardian voice, Dylan stepped closer to Amy. Between his motion, and hers, her robe fell open. Damn, Beckie thought, we had plenty of time… Dylan stared, which didn’t surprise Beckie. However, his next move dropped her back on the sofa in amazement. He blushed as he drew Amy to him, enough to tug her robe closed. “Let’s go this way.” With his arm around her waist, he walked her toward Beckie and the sofa. Good move, young man!

  “I don’t think that’s what you really want,” he said, “ending a day where, well, it was going pretty good until we started back.”

  “You have nothing to prove, Amy,” Beckie whispered. To Dylan, she said, “She’s had some bad experiences. No,” she answered his look, “I’m not gonna say anymore. When she’s ready, she’ll tell you. And thanks.”

  “Do I get a say?”

  Both Beckie and Dylan stared at her for a long minute. Amy returned their gaze but grasped Dylan’s hand. “Well, do I?”

  “I don’t know. Are you going to change into something more revealing but less likely to fall off?”

  She blushed almost as much as Dylan. “Hard to get more revealing. I’ll keep the belt tight.”

  “Good. Dylan’s had enough… whatever.” Beckie slid to the far end of the sofa. “No kissing, or hugging, or—”

  “Okay, Beckie,” Dylan said with a laugh. “I think we can figure that out.”

  Amy nodded, still blushing.

  Beckie watched the TV with half her mind; the other half kept track of the teens. Dylan was in the opposite corner of the couch which put Amy between him and Beckie. He was facing her, and she was a little more than quarter-turned toward him. Beckie exerted no effort to hear anything they said until…

  “… not unattractive, even compared to, what was her name? Jenny?”

  Beckie grinned internally and thought, I’ll have to warn her about asking questions like that.

  He’d leaned a little closer. “Even without… you know, you’re awesome good looking. Just, you looked like it wasn’t me you wanted… Looked like anyone might have done. Felt, I don’t know, like I wasn’t important, you were trying to… prove something, and that, that wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe I shoulda not fought.”

  Yes, you should have! Beckie thought. That’s not right for either man or woman.

  Amy’s voice was barely loud enough to overhear. “I hope… No, dammit! You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s not what I want from… whatever we could have.” Keeping good control of the robe, she twisted around and worked herself onto his lap, leaning back against his chest. She allowed her head to rest next to his, but opened her eyes to smile at Beckie as she took his hands and placed them on her chest, but not where Beckie had to intervene. As long as I can see them!

  Amy took a deep breath before she said any more. “Two months ago, Labor Day, I went on vacation.” She heaved another immense sigh. “No.” She turned her head into his neck. “I owe you honesty. Not vacation. I ran away to visit my girlfriend… to make her… my… lover.” She sighed, but Dylan hadn’t reacted at all. “Except it didn’t turn out quite that way.” Now, he squeezed her gently. She used her soft voice to describe the looking forward to seeing Abby, the pleasure of the blue water sail to Providenciales, taking care of Guppy and the flight to Miami.

  When she told him about the limo and the needle in her shoulder, her voice became ragged. Dylan’s grip around her chest tightened and she turned her head to him. “It’s okay. But… I want to explain. You need to know.” She caressed his cheek with hers. “I woke up, but I wasn’t in the limo.” Inside the robe, she shivered. She made a pushing motion when Beckie moved to slide closer; she stayed back.

  “In a little shack is where I woke up. Beckie can tell you where; I didn’t care. Still don’t.
I was naked, tied hand and foot to a bed. One at a time, five men raped me, over and over.” Dylan slid a hand to cover her mouth, cut off the words, but she twisted her head away. “No! Don’t stop me. I won’t be able to do it again and… and I need to tell you.” She forced his hand back to lay on her chest. “You need to know.”

  She sighed. “That went on for four or five days. Time didn’t… I couldn’t tell time except when the sun came up. One of the men brought a bucket of water in once or twice a day. You know, since I was tied down, I couldn’t… move… It got pretty rank in there.

  “A couple times I tried to drown myself when they poured water or some food drink in my mouth, but the first time, I couldn’t do it and the second, they stopped me.” She pressed Dylan’s hand against her breast. “They grabbed my nipple and…” Her voice trailed off into choked sobs; she removed Dylan’s hands and stood up.

  After a stretch to relieve her tension, she sat on the table facing him, but where she could still see Beckie. “No, it’s not your fault I got up,” she told him. Though I did feel you. Her smile at the thought… Oops, that probably confused him. “Okay. So I couldn’t kill myself. Or make them kill me. I was kinda upset about that. But I was disappointed in… Well, in the team, Mom and Mr. Jamse and all. But the one I was really mad at was Beckie. I’d left her a note explaining it all, so that made it her fault I was there, being slapped and kicked and… raped.” She brought her arms in front of her chest, then reached down to her knees and leaned on her arms.

  “The men stopped coming so often, then hardly at all. I guess the smell put them off. It did me! Then, they left. Just…” She began to shake, then looked up, glaring at Dylan. “When the hurricane came, they left me there, tied to the fucking bed.” She stood again and walked to the window. “Beckie can tell you. She finally found me. I was so scared and sure I would die I couldn’t do anything. She got me out. I lived.” She came back to sit on the table, focused on Dylan. “Now you know. Am I damaged goods? Should I have given myself to you? Or was that slutty?”

  Dylan had not been completely shocked, not into silence, anyway. “There is no way I can make that up to you. Even if—”

  “It’s not your fault!”

  He smiled and continued, “Even if it’s not my fault, I feel like it is. We’ve spent, what, thirty, forty hours together? Not long. Not long enough. I don’t want those hours to end.” He reached for her hands. “You aren’t damaged, no way. I don’t know what I have to do to convince you of that, but I’ll do it, whatever it is. Will you come here; sit with me again?”

  She nodded, then returned to his lap, leaning against his chest. “Thank you, Dylan.” His lips against her neck were delicious.

  Several minutes later, Beckie roused herself. “You know, Amy, I was gonna talk about tomorrow—”

  Dylan’s phone rang, which brought a flurry of activity while he dug it out of a pocket. “Hi, Mom… I’m feeling fine. Not even the headache he said I might have…” He glanced at Beckie, and shrugged. “I know. We’re just sitting, talking. That’s all… She wants to know when I’ll be home.”

  Beckie smiled and said, “You have to leave when one of the two of you falls asleep. But wait! Let me talk, ok?” He gave her a look that said I don’t think I deserve that, but handed her the phone. “Hello, Mrs. Rees. He’s not going to stay the night. Since he’s got school, and Amy and I have to leave tomorrow, I’ll send him off before midnight, if that sounds okay?”

  “That’s fine,” Mrs. Rees replied. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. He’s a great kid. So good, in fact, that subject to pre-existing plans he might have…” Beckie had to stop to stifle her giggles at the expressions on both Amy and Dylan’s face. Mrs. Rees was patient. “Well, if he’s not already promised for family things and if our time visiting and sharing coffee has left you with a good feeling about us, I’d like to invite him to spend as much of Thanksgiving week with us as he can.”

  “But you’re in…”

  “We’re in the Bahamas, yes. We’ll pick up and deliver. He has a passport?”

  Before she handed the phone back to Dylan, she and Mrs. Rees covered mundane topics related to the trip, if it happened. Dylan’s mom wanted to have a word with Mr. Rees; Dylan would after all miss the family get-together. Beckie grinned inside; he seemed to be okay with that.

  Before the eleven o’clock news was over, Beckie forced herself to admit Amy’d been asleep in Dylan’s arms for several minutes, perhaps as many as fifteen. She roused them, chivying them toward the door. “Two kisses. One for good-night, and one for goodbye till you meet again.”

  Beckie watched Dylan into a car—his mom’s, she guessed. When she turned around, Amy was standing with a confused expression on her face.

  “What?” Beckie said.

  “Why’d you invite him?”

  “You don’t want him there?”

  “Of course I do. Just, I don’t know…”

  “You want some time to get used to your power? Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask Mike and Lissa to come over, too. With Sandy, Marla and Greg, we’ll have a ball.” She grinned. “I’ll bet we’ll have to use the hangar. No one’ll want our hollering and all anywhere near.”

  Amy’s expression went from a grin to somber. “I’m sorry about…” She gripped her robe. “I didn’t mean to show off everything.”

  “Not all at once, you mean.” Beckie pushed the girl toward the bedroom. “Even dumb old me could see where you were headed.”

  “Yeah.” She stopped and stared Beckie down. “Why didn’t he want to go?”

  “I think he explained it. You weren’t taking him there. You were taking any guy there. Acting male. He didn’t like that.”

  “I never thought a guy would turn down—”

  “Your past experiences notwithstanding, most guys aren’t entirely insensitive. Still, I’d have thought he would have waited. Well, goes to show, I guess.” If she can’t figure he’s a keeper, I’m not gonna tell her.

  “Would we have any chance?”

  Beckie followed her into the bedroom and shoved her butt so she’d land on the bed. “You gonna sleep nude, or wrapped up in that robe?” She laughed at the girl’s angry expression. “I’ll bet whatever you want being dressed will serve you well in the morning.” She threw an obvious glance at the clock. ”About six-fifteen, mark my words.”

  Amy stopped shedding the robe long enough to gape at her, but dropped it and found underwear and a heavy tee shirt. “Shower?” Beckie said.

  “Morning, if we have time?”

  “Even if you run.”

  “So, why should I be dressed?”

  “You should have dressed before Dylan showed up. My bad, I should have mentioned it. I don’t want to make that mistake again.” She pulled her night-shirt over her head and settled it. As she fluffed her hair, she said, “Because I suspect Dylan will want another goodbye kiss in the morning.” Her smile went through a grin to a smirk. “And I’ll bet he’s regretting some of his recent actions!”

  Amy pulled the comforter down and slid her long legs between the sheets, laughing all the while. “Maybe I could give him a second—”

  Beckie stuffed a pillow over Amy’s face, just enough to smother her words. “I see I was too quick to invite him into your backyard. How will I ever preserve his innocence?”

  “You won’t,” Amy replied with a grimace, “unless he wants you to.” She rolled over and pulled the pillow tight against her ears. “But I’m okay with him being the one.”

  Beckie woke a few minutes before six. Rather than disturb Amy, she unwound herself and rolled off the mattress. Her first action was to close the window; the rain had dampened the floor, so the next move was for towels. She found her sweats and was on the way to the kitchen when a rap on the door brought a smile to her lips.

  “Dylan, good morning! But since you’re not here to see me…” She pointed toward the bedroom. “You have five minutes to wake her up and kiss her goodbye again. At five min
utes and one second, I’ll be on you like… Well you won’t be happy. I may even rescind my invite.”

  “I’ll be back, I promise!” Both his hands were spread in a gesture of acceptance. “Please don’t. Dad agreed I could leave Friday or Saturday and stay till the following Sunday, if that’s okay?”

  “God, yes.” She put her hand in the small of his back and pushed.”Five minutes starts… Now!”

  She turned away toward the coffee maker.

  “Ten… Nine… Eight—”

  “We’re here, we’re here!” came in unison from Amy and Dylan.

  Beckie laughed at them. She was sure their heavy breathing and bright cheeks were not entirely due to the short run from the bedroom. “Okay! You’ve got school, Dylan, so get moving. Amy, if we’re going to run, get into your togs and let’s go. I want to be on the road by ten.”

  “Don’t you remember being a kid?” Amy groused.

  She snorted in derision. “Better than you do, believe me.”

  The rain was barely a drizzle as Amy threw the last bag into the back of the MINI and dropped into the passenger seat. Beckie smiled as she turned the key. On their way to New York, they merged onto the two lane section of Route 6. Clear blue sky peeked over the trees to the west as if to welcome them. She wriggled her rear end to be comfortable in the seat and glimpsed Amy plugging the 4G interface into her laptop. The girl noticed. “Gonna get some research for that paper done, so Mom doesn’t go ballistic on me when I get home.” Beckie smiled at her quizzical expression. “When’ll that be?”

  Beckie had considered this question herself after telling Ian about Amy’s misadventures, before throwing the last clothes in her bag and folding the clean sheets to return to the bedroom. “A week and a half, more or less. Closing’s tomorrow, and after that, I should have the keys. We’ll stay there. I want to spend the weekend going through everything.”

  “Not only to see what to keep, I’ll bet.”