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Authors: Mandi Rei Serra

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BOOK: A Toast to Starry Nights
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Dmitri and I said our goodbyes. I handed
Wiley his phone. “I'm a dolt on occasion. I put Dmitri and myself through Hell
tonight.”

“Everyone is a dolt now and again,
Kaylis. I'm glad this has a happy ending for you tonight. Things could have
gotten uglier.” Wiley pointed to his ear piece. “Your abductor has priors for
assault with a deadly weapon. Sex Offender registry for three years. And a
bench warrant from Alameda county for his arrest.”

My jaw dropped. Sex offender status?
Bench warrant? Jeebus, Mike tread a path I never contemplated. But all things
considered, should it surprise me?

“What will it take to get me home,
Wiley? I don't think I've ever wanted to be home as much as right now.”

With another half smirk, Wiley clicked
the radio attached to his shoulder and informed whoever that he was taking me
down to the valley for medical attention. A sharp whistle, and his black lab
came bounding from the trees to sit at his side. From the dog's collar hung a
very official badge, displaying her place in Law Enforcement. “Load up, Cleo.”
Wiley popped open the back door to his crew-cab truck and like a four-legged
pogo stick, the dog bounced into the back and sat.

I walked around to the passenger side
and gingerly got in the green truck. With adrenaline fading, my aches made
themselves known again.

After buckling up, “You aren't the Best
Man, anymore, Wiley. You are The Man.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys who
take you home.”

“Nope, just the ones that rescue me.”

“Going to make some cookies for Dmitri
dressed up as June Cleaver?” Wiley smirked.

Oh shit. “You heard that?” How much did
he hear?

“We were parked out here before he came
back to camp. We let him get comfortable for an hour or so before we moved in
for the raid. Didn't know he had you with him until we moved in and heard the
fighting.” Wiley started up his truck and headed down to the valley.

It was only about ten minutes before he
turned onto Forest Highway 7, which surprised me. “I thought the cartels
preferred growing in more remote areas?”

“They do. This guy and his friends
weren't Mexican cartel. Just bay area men looking to make easy money.”

“There were others up there? I didn't
see anyone else.”

“The others got popped earlier. We were
just waiting for this last guy before we raided and pulled the plants.”

Bumpy, rock-strewn road gave way to a
graded gravel road lined with conifers and manzanita highlighted with
moonbeams. Hard to appreciate the beauty in the midst of a panic attack. Would
we crash? I didn't want to get in another accident. The thought preoccupied my
mind. Needed a distraction. I wanted to take my mind off tonight's
misadventure, it all seemed overwhelming. Happy thought time. “You made an
impression on Jet.”

“Did I now?”

“You did. I was certain she forgot how
to blush long ago, but the mere mention of your name got her fiery in the
face.” And knowing that Jet was human after all makes me happy.

“That's good to know.” Wiley's demeanor
didn't change but for a little quirk of a smile.

“I'll give you one freebie question
about her. Ask away.”

“Why now? You were tight lipped when I
asked you before.”

“Because I wasn't in shock then and this
is my way of going, 'oh you are my hero!' Seriously. Thank you for raiding him
tonight and saving me.”

“What's her favorite flower?”

“Anything that smells good. She hates
pretty flowers with no scent.” It pleased me that he wanted to know what she
liked,

“Nothing one dimensional with that
woman, is there?”

“Nope, nothing whatsoever. But if you're
serious about wanting to know her, best let it be on Jet's terms. She hates
authority figures, hates being pushed around. And if you hurt her, just find a
foxhole and hide. She possesses no mercy for those who've wronged her.”

“I've picked up on her being a spicy
meatball.”

“She's the closest thing to a sister I
have. I want her happy. Disrupt her happiness, you disrupt my contentment.” No,
Officer, that wasn't a threat.

“Understood. Dimi is my brother from
another mother.”

My thoughts danced around the ballroom
of my mind, bringing me back to the topic I'd rather not think about. “I put
him through hell tonight.”

“Wasn't just him who went through Hell
tonight. Take a look for yourself.” He leaned over and flipped down the visor,
then lifted the cover, revealing a LED lit-mirror. My reflection revealed hair
in clumps, a deep scratch on my cheek beneath my eye, half covered with a
band-aid. A bruise was forming on my other cheek to match the black eye I
sported. And a split lip. Plus a healthy coating of grime. I looked like shit.
Dragged through a knothole backwards, as Grampa would say.

“Fair enough.” Self-consciousness struck
like lightening, in awe of what this night had in store for me.

I will say this for danger: it puts what
is important into perspective very quickly.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three-

 

Jet and Willow awaited my arrival to
tiny Glenn General Hospital seated in Jet's Beemer. When Wiley and I pulled
into the parking lot on the way to the ER entrance, I saw them both emerge and
come toward the truck. Jet trotted in heels, Willow strode briskly behind in
her Birks.

Jet opened the passenger side door
before I could. She gasped, “Sweet Jesus, Kay... next time listen to me!”

“There won't be a next time.”

Jet rolled her eyes. “Sure, you say that
now.”

Willow nudged Jet aside and reached into
the cab to clasp me in a huge hug. After pulling away and getting an eyeful,
she blurted, “Oh, Kaylis, you are a mess!”

“I'm a mess that hurts. Whoever said car
accidents tickle need to be slapped.”

Wiley had gone inside and located an
orderly with a wheelchair while estrogen overflowed his green Chevy work truck.
I took a look at his contribution and said, “I think I can manage, Wiley.” But
as soon as I unbuckled myself and stretched out a leg, my muscles screamed in
agony. Every fiber of my being ached. I sucked in a lungful of air as I scooted
out of the vehicle and eased into the new mode of conveyance. “Never mind. Good
call, Wiley. Good call.” I looked up to Jet and asked, “Where's Dmitri?”

“He got antsy and made a run out to
Walmart for some Red Bull and Kind Bars. He'll be back anytime.”

As Wiley wheeled into the lobby, Willow
volunteered to fill out my paperwork so I could be whisked away to an
examination room. From there, I extracted myself from the chair and onto the
examination table with a ponderous groan. My vitals were taken and I was left
alone to await the on-duty doctor. When I heard footsteps near, I looked over
to the door, expecting to see the doctor.

Dmitri.

“Jesus.” His voice sounded harsh to my
ear.

“No. I'm Kaylis, remember?” Couldn't
help teasing, trying to bring a measure of levity to the room. I remember my
reflection revealed in Wiley's truck. I look terrible.

A small smile broke through the
austerity of his expression. “All night I've been carrying the mental image of
your Jeep on fire. When I close my eyes, I can still see the flames. You look
like you had a rough ride... but you're also never more beautiful to me. Thank
God you are alive.”

“I'm so glad looks aren't everything to
you, Dmitri.” Winked his way, then grimaced from the scratch on my cheek
informing me that making flirtatious gestures is a bad idea.

“Wiley told me what happened.” Dmitri's
tone darkened, deepened. “The only thing protecting Michael is the Glenn County
Jail.” There is no doubt in my mind what my fiancé would do to my abductor,
given half a chance. Dmitri walked toward me and sat at the examination table's
foot, then looked me square in the face. He reached out, lifted my chin and
tilted my face one way then another. “How much of this is from the accident and
how much is from him?”

“About fifty-fifty. I got him back
though. He picked the wrong time to play tag with me.”

“You hit him?” Amazement lit Dmitri's
tone and face.

“A couple of times.” Lifted my hand
graced with the engagement ring. “This bad boy comes in handy too. It bloodied
him.” And yes, I feel proud of that. Not because I hit Mike, but because I
didn't take shit from him. It's a very empowering feeling. Can't explain it
better than that. My brain still tingled from the knowledge that I did not
allow him to walk over me, like in the old days. I was scared, even stupid,
rash and irritable. But I wasn't a trembling pile of nerves like I was just
weeks ago. “I need to sew a June Cleaver outfit. Feel the urge to make you some
cookies. In heels.”

“Wiley told me about that too.” Dmitri
looked at me in a questioning way I never noticed before. “Are you really
okay?”

“Wiley is a nark.” A deep breath. “I am
fine. I look like shit on the outside, but on the inside, I'm doing pretty damn
good, all things considered.”

“Yeah, that's his job.” Dmitri held my
hand, lifted it up to see the scrapes that covered my arms.

“Can I ask something of you, Kaylis?”

“Yes, of course.” My mind waited with
bated breath for what he would ask of me.

“I'm sorry I spoke the way I did to you.
Just next time give me a little credit. All I was going to do is give Lorryn
references to other contractors for the work she wanted done. I wasn't going to
turn her down at the shop so she could make a scene. Had employees looking on.
Jobs I take pay their wages and with how the economy is going, didn't want it
to get through the office grapevine that I'm declining jobs for whatever
reason. They didn't need to know the personal reasons behind it. I should have
told you that's what I was doing, but it felt like you weren't giving me a
chance with how you jumped down my neck at the mention of her name. Told you
long ago, Kaylis, I made my decision as to who I want in my life. That has not
changed.”

My elation at standing up to Mike faded
like popcorn farts in the wind. Now I feel like a tool/jerk/super asshole.
Tunnel vision at what I expected Dmitri to do rather than what he did do lit my
temper and I stormed off to have a car accident. That's the brunt of it. Stupid
expectations.

“I will give you more credit and not
throw a hissy fit when her name is mentioned. Just back in the day you told me
that you were done with her. I expected you to tell her then and there, should
she make a reappearance, to take a flying leap. You didn't though. You seemed
to do the exact opposite of what I expected and it really upset me. Felt like
you lied because you would go socialize with her. I'm sorry, Dmitri. Had I been
fully informed and objective about it, I wouldn't have stormed off and had
quality time with Mike. Tonight is my fault. All my fault.”

“We both contributed. I wasn't clear
about my intentions and you over-reacted from the shortage of information. We
both share the fault. I'm just glad you're safe. The thought of you as a
charred cinder... Oh God, Kaylis. I never want to think of you like that
again.”

I hugged him tight and he did the same
to me. How easily one little thing can spiral into something gargantuan and
life-changing.

Logic and emotion, the oil and water
combo of life. To fully combine, it takes a good shaking to break down the
particles so cohesion can be made, understood and appreciated. Hated the
shaking, but coming to an understanding with Dmitri felt like blessed relief. Priorities
shifted for me.

Life is short and every day is meant for
celebration.

Chapter Twenty-Four -

 

You won't believe how fast three and a
half months of wedding planning can make time fly.

Nine-thirty chimed on Halloween night.
Trick or Treaters were few on the edge of town where my mother lived, but my
cousin Lyddy pulled candy duty. And by duty, I mean collecting a Skittles or
Hershey tax for every time she answered the door.

Now here I was in Willow's bedroom
wrapped in a fluffy pink bathrobe, getting primped for my big evening. Perched
on a stool so Jet could do my hair, I awaited with a million butterflies
fluttering deep inside me. The pale green walls, while tranquil, did little to
calm my nervousness. Dmitri readied himself at our home, with his family and
friends.

Jet wielded hot rollers then a curling
iron to set the ends of my tresses into ringlets which would flow down my back.
All the while, plying me with champagne and strawberries accompanied by
powdered sugar in a delicate bowl. The berries dipped in champagne then rolled
in the sweetness just happened to be awesome, by the way.

My Stylist of Honor did a twisty thing
along my hairline, so it looked kinda like a french braid headband. Stage two
involved pulling my hair half-up in a fancy twist, securing it with a pearl and
flower comb. Stage three, arranging ringlets. Once my tresses were tamed with a
can of hairspray, Jet sculpted my face. Red lipstick, black eyeliner.
Coppery-pink eyeshadow and a magic formula of mascara that gave my lashes an
extra half-inch of length without the tarantula effect. Totally Old Hollywood
glamor-puss.

BOOK: A Toast to Starry Nights
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