Page 52 of Signed, SEALed, Delivered

"You know, with the end of my marriage to your mother comes a new start for me, and my relationship with you." I reached across the granite to take his warm hand in mine. Just like when I was a little girl, his assurance and protection radiates from his touch. I had once believed nothing could ever hurt me, as long as my father was near. "I want to continue to be a presence in your daily life. To be there for you when you need me, even when you don't." His eyes shifted between mine as he motioned for my other hand. "I want you to know, everything I do for you is out of love and the need to always protect you." Something told me his words were more of a confession than anything else. The odds were against me to ever know the truth. Just like Zach, and his involvement with Ethan’s decision to end his life, the truth would be buried with the body.

"The house on the lake is Jason's and I've already had this same conversation with him." Dad glanced at Zach, who was preoccupied with shoving spaghetti into his mouth, and then reached into his pants pocket, removing a single key and placing it on the table beside me. "This key opens the front and back doors, you can move in after the fifth. I'll leave all the furniture if you want or you can do whatever you want to the place. It's yours after all."

I looked at the shiny, metal key, the light from the ceiling reflecting its brilliance. I loved this house; the way the entry doors all arched at the top and how the ceiling seemed to touch the sky. There was a tiny courtyard shared between the neighbors on each side. I loved the colors and the smell, I loved it all. "Thank you, Daddy!"

In this house, I was free to act like a ten year old, hugging my father until his face turned blue. Free to cover his cheeks with kisses and no one would chastise or belittle me. I hugged him so tight he began complaining of being choked.

I felt a new level of excitement and also a new level of independence. I could change things about this house, make it more personal. The thoughts kept coming. I looked at Zach, expecting his face to reflect the same joy as mine, only to find a look of disbelief and confusion. I wasn’t sure why, this house was so much safer than the apartment over the shop, something he should be happy about. Not to mention the amount of room it has in comparison, so it didn't matter what Zach thought, not really. He owned his own home, a decision I supported fully. This was mine. Zach and I weren't married, nor had we housed the idea of that happening anytime in the immediate future. Not to say I hadn't thought about it or had a vision or two of the day I would wear white for the first and last time.

Zach jumped up and took charge of cleanup. I took him at his word he had it all under control and ventured upstairs to look around. Inspiration ran through my mind like tiny creatures scurrying around the forest floor. The carpet in the bedrooms would have to be removed and replaced, the hardwood floors could use a good sanding and refinishing. A new coat of paint would do wonders, but the bones of the house would stay. Wandering from room to room, I took in places I hadn't been in years; touching doorframes and smiling at the positive memories they held.

"Kennedy?" Zach's silky voice filled my ear, as my eyes were still taking in the small library my father's books currently called home. "You ready to head home?"

"Yes, I'm ready when you are."Leaving my father's house, now that things have changed so dramatically, was difficult. I was free to hug him and tell him over and over how much I loved him. We made plans to have lunch during the week and then the strangest thing happened...my dad hugged Zach. A backslapping, holding back emotions, hug.

As we neared the end of my father's street, it was a left turn to go to my apartment or a right to go to Zach's home. I watched as he turned the wheel in the direction of his house, checking several times to make certain traffic was clear. The streetlights briefly illuminated how his left foot was propped up along the inside of the door rim. His left elbow resting on his erect knee, while his body leaned to his right side, my side. It was the side of him I slept on when I shared a bed with him, the side I tended to walk on as we made our way to wherever we were going.

The soft hum of Zach's car combined with the beat from the radio was a complete contradiction to the angry rock Zach often had playing overhead in his shop. I didn't know the band or understand any of the lyrics, but it wasn't a long drive and it was Zach's vehicle. I did love this particular truck, though. The smell of the leather and whatever cleaning product he used to keep it in good condition. Still the best part of being with Zach was the way he holds my hand. His fingers were rough with calluses, yet he unconsciously left gentle touches on my hand. Sometimes his fingers were still, the connection sufficient, while other times he was fidgety and played with the tips of my fingers. Almost like he was playing whatever song on the radio or inside his head. Tonight, he stroked my fingers, long, soft touches that had goose bumps forming on the skin covering my arm. I wouldn't dream of asking him to stop.

Zach held my hand as he pushed open the door. Standing in the kitchen was the same dark haired beauty, although this time she was dressed and the shocked look was absent from her face.

“You must be Kennedy.” She came around the island, her hand extended and a toothy smile giving a hint to her kindness. “I am so terribly sorry about the first time we met. There I was in my borrowed shirt and unmentionables, and you with a look which would make preacher man nervous.”

Sitting at the bar was one of the largest men I had ever seen. His dark hair and broad shoulders caused me to slip behind Zach a little further. His face was illuminated by the open laptop in front of him, so as he stood from his seat at the bar, I caught sight of the large scar on the side of his jaw. While it wasn't gruesome, it was large enough to call attention, and perhaps give him an edge of danger.

“I’m Rayne, like the wet stuff which falls from the sky. My momma was sick of all the common names and wanted her daughter to be different. Too bad it became a famous stripper name a few years back.”

I wasn't certain if she was kidding or not, but a giggle left my throat and found a room full of friends as everyone else joined me. Getting myself together, I extended my hand out to meet hers. “Forgive me, Rayne. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your name is lovely and certainly original.”

Zach stepped around to the side of the island, his hand extended in the large man's direction. “Kennedy, this is Matt, or as I’ve known him for years, Reaper.”

Swallowing the intimidation he created in me, I extended out my hand in his direction. “Matt, or do you prefer Reaper?” Hoping the smile on my face masked the trepidation in my voice and the shaking in my hand.

His hand swallowed mine, even more than Zach’s did, with a firm, but not crushing grip. “Matt will work. It’s nice to finally meet you, I wasn't certain I would get the chance.”

Matt and Zach exchange a look, one filled with tension, leaving me to question how much of our argument he shared.

“Rayne, you managed to grow out of your shyness fairly quickly.” Zach startles me with his abrupt subject change and ability to switch direction and attitude. Or maybe it's just the dynamics of their relationship.

“I had help,” Rayne stood with her hands on her curvy hips. “Thanks to a conversation with a few new friends today.” She shoots a side-glance to Matt.

“Zach, are we...?” Matt pointed between myself and Zach, eyebrows raised and voice curious.

“Yeah, man, she knows.”

Matt nods his head in understanding, circling back around the island to his computer, his movements fluid, despite his massive size.

“Okay, give me a few minutes to get everyone linked up.” Rayne pulls my hand, leading me to one of the empty barstools. Zach moves to stand beside Matt, his eyes fixed on the screen.

“Kennedy, I know this all seems strange and a little scary. Trust me, when Matt told me what they had planned, I questioned my sanity for thinkin’ it was a good idea. The more I thought about it, the more it reminded me of the old west and how scores were settled. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not okay with cold blooded killing, but sometimes, when the laws of the land seem to benefit the criminal instead of the victims, someone needs to step up and do something.”

“You’re right.” I agreed, lowering my gaze to the pattern of the granite countertop. “I’ve trusted a few too many people who have only been out for themselves. Killing isn't always the answer, but neither is going to jail and then being released on a technicality.”

Zach and my father didn't know I was aware of just how sinister Ethan had become. Yesterday, I happened to stop by my father’s office to bring him a cup of coffee and say hello. As I stood in the elevator, I overheard two officers talking about the bodies dug up by park rangers in Colorado and Montana. When they mentioned how the guy who did it was found dead in a local motel, I started connecting the dots. My father wasn't in his office, but Lauren had been moved to a desk outside of William’s office. Her name was etched on a brass plate, proudly displayed in the center of her desk, which was unattended, giving me permission to slip into William’s office. A few clicks of the mouse later, I was able to see what Zach had saved me from.

“Kennedy, before I show you what you're about to get yourself into, I want you to know how this idiot here mooned over you. I was right beside him when he got your letter and watched the determination on his face when he tried to understand how someone could do such a terrible thing to a beautiful girl like yourself. Most of all, I remember the day he pulled us all aside and told us he was finished with the military and ready to really live. When he didn't like the way Ethan Porter stepped on his territory, he called in a few favors and had the team take a look at him. When we got to his hotel room, and I won’t give you any details, suffice it to say in the next several days the media is going to tell you just how bad this man was. What we did to Ethan isn’t a tenth of what he deserved.”

A lump formed in my throat as I realized how much he cared for me, even before we met in person.

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