Page 28 of Scotch: Unraveled

“Does that mean what I think it means,mo leannan?” There’s a definite smile to his voice.Well.I didn’t mean for our conversation to turn this corner.

“It means we have a lot to talk about when you get home. And for full disclosure, I had another run-in with Deputy Rodrick. I called Tommy Doyle and he came right away, but what happens if Tommy’s not available?”

“Yar home safe now. Let me call Duke. I hate saying goodnight—fuck!”

“Then just tell me, ‘See you tomorrow,’” I say, not really wanting him to saygoodnight, either.

“See you tomorrow,mo leannan.”

Sleep does not find me a happy participant. Sleep and I actually clash the whole night and as the girls’ cries come at me—the room still dark—I glance at my clock to see it’s too-freaking-early-o’clock and use the pillow to cover my head for a few minutes.Roryis going to owe me bigtime…Then I haul my dragging butt out of the warm, soft, comfy bed to the girls’ room.

First thing first. Each girl gets a morning diaper change and then we head to the living room for a twinsie breakfast of yummy formula while my coffee brews in the pot. The glorious caffeinated smell is at least enough to get my eyes open a little wider.

The girls and I watch Food Network together and veg in our jammies for half the morning. Isn’t it always when you’re at your most comfortable that crap happens? My phone rings and it’s my director, Ms. Lockhart. I listen intently as she tells me the center is flooded out, someone saw this morning as they drove by and called her, but she’s on the other side of the state.

“Sonofabitch,” I mutter in a whisper so the girls don’t hear me cuss. Then I look to both Mollie and Macie. “When it rains, it pours… yes, it does.” The girls smile at me and it warms my heart. “I have to find you a sitter now because a flooded daycare is no place for sweet babies… no, it’s not.” I bend down to kiss the bottom of their toes as each girl plays kicky-legs.

Then I call up Caitlin since she’s right next door. Twenty minutes after, the girls are at the Ellis abode and I’m driving down the mountain to get to the center. Fifteen minutes after that, I’m wading through ankle-deep water to find the main waterline. A freaking pipe burst. Normally a worker like myself wouldn’t know where to shut off a main waterline. But as I’m about to become director, Ms. Lockhart has been running me through the paces. Thus, even sleep deprived, I find the wherewithal to remember the day we went over how to turn off the main waterline. Where the breaker box is located and how to reset the furnace if necessary.

It doesn’t want to budge when I attempt to turn the valve with this long pole I’m supposed to use for such occasions. Ten minutes after that, I get the valve to budge and then it turns for me.

Now, soaking wet, I have to hunt up a plumber on a Saturday and contact a restoration company to “make it like it never even happened” or whatever their slogan is.

Today is one of those days I wish I’d never gotten out of bed. I go all day long, so it’s a good thing my vacation starts Monday. It’s dark, I’m starving, my head hurts. I’m cold and still very wet by the time I’m able to call it a day and head back up the mountain. Ms. Lockhart took my calls for updates, but I found out she wasn’t on her way back, deciding I could handle it. Uh—I don’t get director pay yet.

Just past the edge of town, with the soft hue of business lights behind me and darkness to the front of me, red and blue flashers come out of nowhere. My first reaction is to look down at my speed. Since all this stuff with the deputy started, I make sure to use my cruise control, but I look anyway and no—I’m not speeding.

I don’t like it out here in the dark. It’s one of those ‘listen to your gut’ moments, but he’s a cop. I have to pull over. I click my blinker and pull off the road as much as I can on a mountain. He rolls up behind my car and steps out. I pull my license from my purse and registration and proof of insurance from my glovebox waiting for him to get to me.

Deputy Rodrick knocks on my window and I roll it down. “What can I help you with?” I ask, too tired for pretend niceties.

“Out of the car,” he orders me.

What?I’m not— “Out of the car,” he barks this time, pulling on my handle. “Doyle ain’t around to help ya this time, bitch.Outof thefuckin’car.”

“W-Why are you doing this?”

“Whores like you like it bad… puttin’ Lords in yer bed. Guess what? I can be bad, too… I can be real bad.” It’s a threat I take seriously.

I try to keep the door closed, lock it, and start the engine at the same time. This is some beginning of a horror flick playing out and I’m making it to the end. Even if I get arrested, at least it’ll be with witnesses. I stomp on the gas pedal, spraying gravel and squealing my tires as I peel out, speeding up the mountain, taking those curves too fast considering they’re mountain curves and the time of night, but I’m too scared to slow.

Rodrick doesn’t follow me, though. I make it back to the gate and Dutchy is back, waving me through. I’m shaking so badly that I don’t even bother to go grab the girls. They’ll have to stay next door until I calm down enough to take care of them.

I unlock the house and walk in, and I don’t have one care about leaving the door open—stupid, I know. Way to let in bugs and cold, but I’m on a mission and not thinking properly and head to the kitchen to pour a glass of whiskey. I hate it, but it’s there and I need something. That’s when I see someone out of the corner of my eye and whip my head up.

Rory. It’s Rory. He’s home. I stifle the sob and watch him. He walks cautiously toward me but pivots to move to the door. Still shaking, I pour another three fingers and shoot it back, listening for the raid that should happen any second now. I fled the scene of a traffic stop. Rodrick probably sped off to get reinforcements, hellbent on bringing me in. Ending my career here in Thornbriar. I’ll have to move. I’ll have to leave Rory and the girls… and Brighton. I promised her I wouldn’t move again.

And what will happen to the girls if the compound gets raided? Did I screw Rory over by coming back here instead of going home?

Sonofabitch.

9.

Rory

I shut the door and when I turn back around, Frankie is standing next to the arm of my old, ratty sofa. She slams back another triple shot of whiskey and has tears spilling down over her cheeks. I take a step forward, but she shakes hernoand with much calmer hands pulls her sweater up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. Jesus, she was shaking not two minutes ago and now she’s stripping for me. I need to find out what scared her, but the look on her face pleads for me to let it go, at least for right now. It takes me a moment to make a decision because I don’t want to make the wrong move here and risk somehow losing her again. But if what I hope is about to go down is what she needs, then that’s what she’ll get.

Torn between hating myself for what I’m about to do, as there’s clearly something major going on, and the rush of lust and love causing my dick to stage a mutiny against my mind, I press my palms against my forehead and run them up through my hair to put a little time and perspective in the situation.

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