Night Fury: Second Act (7 page)

Bob tries to speak to me a second and third time today, but I flee both times, not letting him say a single word for fear of what he might say.

I have my memories of my childhood.
Good
memories. I don’t want anything to taint that.

My garden has been sorely neglected while Tomas and Xavier have been with us. Truth be told, I prefer spending time with them than being in my most favourite place in the world.

I smile to myself as I lie back on my cot.

My routine over the past week has changed dramatically. My mornings are spent mostly with Tomas
, as we are early risers, while we wait for the others to wake. I’ll normally find him standing in the hall, rocking, while it’s still dark out. That’s when I’ll take him by the hand and lead him to the kitchen where we quietly share breakfast.

I’ve learnt that fruity rings are his favourite cereal.

He makes a mess of himself, but it’s fine because he has fun doing it. He’s even tried to feed me a couple of times, smiling all the while. How could I refuse a shaky spoonful of cereal when that face is so happy?

I once aske
d Xavier what he does about the morning wanderings at home, which was clearly a huge mistake. He shot me a hateful glance and spat, “Well, I’m not about to fuckin’ lock him up like some animal, Cat.”

I quickly apologi
sed. Then stuck my foot deeper into my mouth when I told him it was dangerous for Tomas to be wandering the house by himself in the dark.

That’s when his face turned tortured. After a long while
, he admitted on a whisper, “I know.” His voice thickened with shame. “That’s why I lock him in his room at night.”

And my heart broke.

As I lie here trying hard not to read too much into what Bob said this morning, my head clears for a single moment before I jump up off the bed with a gasp. It’s only just hit me.

I run a hand through my hair and whisper, wide eyed, “Holy shit.” I blink
in shock.

Frankie’s pregnant.

***

Running to Bob’s room, I’m almost stopped by Ari.

Holding my hand out, I rush out, “Not right now. This is an emergency.”

I continue to run and when I get to Bob’s bedroom, I swing open the door and come to an abrupt halt. A frown mars my brows.

She’s not here.

Mirage
.

Of course.

On foot again, I pass Ari a second time but cut her off when she tries to speak. “Sorry, Ari. I’ll find you once I’ve found Frankie.”

I hear Ari growl but I keep running. I run down the stairs. I run through the kitchen and right though the back door. I run over to the barn and key in my code.

My heart races. I pant and sweat. But I don’t care.

I need to see her.

Finally, I reach her bedroom and knock. “Frankie? You in there?”

There is no response but I can hear shuffling from the inside. Against my better judgement, I open the door and what I see makes my stomach roll.

Bags.

She’s packing bags.

Not just a bag.

Bags
. Plural.

She’s leaving.

My voice sounds that of a scared little girl. “What are you doing?”

Her lips quiver
; her cheeks are tear-stained. She doesn’t even look up at me. She doesn’t even answer me.

I take a small step into her room, mouth gaping. “What are you doing?” I repeat, louder this time.

But she ignores me. And it hurts. It also makes me angry. “You’re taking off? Just like that? Like a goddamn
coward
?”

This gets a reaction. She turns her bright eyes up at me and hisses, “You don’t know shit, Cat. Fuck off.”

I shake my head, jaw steeled. “You’re pregnant and you’re running. You’re a coward.”

She looks as though she wants to say something but she bites her tongue.

I push further. “Go ahead. Leave. We don’t need you.” I force myself to say something I don’t mean. I need her to react. “
I
don’t need you.”

Rather than make her angry, she chokes on a sob. “You’re a bitch.”

My lips quiver. “Get angry. Fight me. Don’t run away with your tail between your legs.” She continues to throw things into her duffle bags. My voice shakes, “Don’t leave.”

I
watch on as the first of my tears fall. In a desperate attempt at forcing emotion, I rush forward, take the fuller bag and dump its contents all over the floor. Clothes and framed photographs lay strewn on the ground.

Silent, painfully so, Frankie’s body shakes in silent sobs as she kneels to pick up her belongings.

My legs give out. I fall to my knees and croak, “Talk to me, dammit.”

Slowing her packing, Frankie mutters in eerie softness. “I have to go.”

My chest aches. “No you don’t. We’ll protect you. I’ll protect you. The church is a safe place.”

She scoffs, “A nun with a kid. Really, Cat?”

Okay. So it doesn’t look good.

“We can say he was an orphan. Like me. We can raise him like you guys raised me.”

Frankie’s eyes flash. Before she can think, she blurts out, “I don’t want him raised like you! He’s going to be normal!”

We both kneel on the floor in silence
, unmoving.

She opens her mouth again and again, but gapes like a fish out of water. She finally utters weakly, “You know what I mean.”

I do, but it doesn’t make the statement any less hurtful.

She packs the last of her things off the floor and stands. “I know this is hard but I have to leave. I can’t stay here. It’s not possible.”

I want to argue but hurt and sadness have left me mute.

Her mind is made up.

I stand and ask softly, “Will you at least come visit?”

Frankie smiles a watery smile. “Yeah.” She hugs me. “Of course.”

I smile back and don’t respond to her blatant lie. Sniffling, I help her load her bags into one of the Kompressors and hug her for a few long minutes, quietly crying all the while. We clutch at each other, trembling through our mourning.

This is the hardest goodbye of my life.
My best friend is leaving me. I love Ari. I love Bob and Clark. But they aren’t Frankie.

She drives away without looking back. Not ready to deal with human interaction right now, I sit on the bench under the large oak tree.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply, taking in a few calming breaths.

“I know you’re upset
, but I’d like to talk to you if you can tolerate me a minute.”

Bob.

I don’t open my eyes but let my shoulders sag in defeat.

The bench creaks under our combined weight and he sighs, “I never wanted kids, Cat.” My shoulders stiffen. He adds, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

I hate myself for feeling the warm fuzzies from his open admission.

“You were a surprise to me. A surprise to us all. I’ll admit that I only agreed to keep you until someone suitable came forward to adopt you. But you stayed with us. And that was all me.” He turns to me with a cautious smile. “Did you know that I fought to keep you?”

My brows bunch. I did not know that. I shake my head lightly.

He nods. “They wanted to take you away from us.
I had to prove we were a good fit for you.” He chuckles, “And that was surprisingly hard to do. I had to get papers forged all over. I had to prove we had the money to provide for you. I had to prove we could school you, clothe you, feed you and a fuck of a lot more.” He places his hand over mine. “But you were worth it. All the headaches of the world and more. You were worth it.”

My fingers twitch under his and he grips my hand tight. “Want to know the exact moment I knew I loved you?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Frankie was just a kid. A runaway. She was a baby herself, and from the moment you arrived, she never left your side. Ari was in charge of feeding you, changing you, basically being a mom to you, but one day both of the girls were out which left me to look after you for the first time. So I was thinking that babies were messy, noisy things and I was already dreading it.”

I cut in with, “The beginning of this story sucks.”

He shushes me. “So I took you into my office and watched you while I worked. Before I knew it, I’d done everything I needed to. And it only took me two hours to realise that I hadn’t heard a peep from you. I look over and you were staring up at me with those big doe eyes.” He grins. “And you were smiling a toothless smile. So then I had to feed you, and I didn’t know which end was which. I tried to open the jar of food and I ended up splattered with apple sauce.” He chuckles. “And you laughed at me.”

I lower my face to hide my smile. Bob never talks about me as a baby.

This is a gift. A rare treat.

He sighs, “After I fed you, I ha
d to bathe you and, boy, were you a little mermaid or what. Splashing around, squealing, laughing and kicking your little legs out. Every time you laughed, I did too. I dried and dressed you in your pink fluffy sleep suit and warmed a bottle. You fell asleep in my arms, and as you did, you reached up and touched my cheek with your little fingers.” His voice turns soft. “As I was watching you sleep in my arms, I knew I would do anything to keep you. And from that day on, you spent most of your days with me in my office. Keeping me company.”

My insides warm
and my throat’s thick; I don’t say a thing. I can’t.

He adds emphatically, “I love you, Catarina. You’re my sunshine. Always have been.”

I swallow hard and respond meekly, “I love you, too.”

He sighs in relief
. “Good, ‘cause I don’t know how long I would’ve been able to stand you being upset at me. Now, about Frankie…”

“She’s gone.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Then he says something that stops my heart and singes my insides.

“I need you to understand why I sent her away.”

My mind goes a hundred miles an hour. My breathing heavies as I clench my fists and seethe, “You- you
sent
her away?”

The expression on his face tells me he thought I already knew this.

I did not.

“How
could
you? She needs us. She needs
you
! And you sent her away? You’re going to be a father, Bob. Your baby needs you.”

Putting on his poker face, he adopts a distant tone. “I don’t want children. Frankie should have known better. We’re a church, not a brothel. Nuns don’t just get pregnant, Cat. People would know. We can’t risk it.
We can’t risk our reputation. People trust us. They trust the church.”

I don’t buy it. “She could have gone into hiding for a while. Come back when the baby was born. We could have raised it as a family.”

“She’s aborting the pregnancy. There will be no child.”

My mouth gapes.

She wouldn’t do that. I know Frankie. She would never do that.

Or would she?

It’s then that I remember something Frankie said before she left.

“I don’t want him raised like you! He’s going to be normal!”

Standing, I utter, “I don’t know what Frankie told you, Bob, but she’s not aborting the pregnancy.” He tries to hide the look of surprise that crosses him, but I catch it. I begin walking backwards. “You’re going to be a father. Whether you like it or not.”

As I move to walk away, I call out
without feeling, “Congratulations, Daddy.”

***

My chest heaves in unsteady breaths as I run from the crime scene. My heart thumps an erratic drum beat. Cold sweat covers my body.

This
is fear. I’m sure of this because I’m about a second away from dirtying my panties.

As I bolt down a side street, I pant into the night air, “Someone want to tell me why the cops are on my ass?”

Red and blue lights flash. A siren wails in the distance.

My body now covered in a cold sweat, I realise this could have very well been my last job.

Clark speak into my earpiece. “Fury, you tripped the alarm.”

Impossible.

Hiding myself behind a dumpster, I hiss into nothingness, “No. I. Didn’t.”

Clark sighs, “You did. I have the monitored alarm reading up on my screen right now.”

I try to catch my breath in sulky silence.

Clark speaks softly, “Listen, it happens sometimes. Don’t sweat it. You got out. Bob’s on his way.”

Frankie’s leaving is fucking with my head. I close my eyes and try not to breathe in through my nose. This dumpster is rank. Resting my head against the ice-cold brick wall, I mentally lecture myself on how stupid I am for letting this happen.

This was a rookie mistake.
And I’m embarrassed by it.

I spot lights brightening the alley and I move to stand. I don’t want to be here a second longer than I need to be
, although I’m dreading the lecture I know one hundred percent I’m going to receive from Bob on the way home.

Still standing by the dumpster, I’m suddenly blinded by a bright light.

My eyes burn. I quickly lift my hand to block out the harsh assault on my peepers. I spot the gun before I get a chance to run. That’s when I hear the words I never thought I’d hear in my lifetime.

“Hands up!”
No, no, no
! “You’re under arrest.”

Well
, today just keeps getting better and better.

***

The light shining in my eyes, I try to blink away the white spots that blur my vision but it’s a futile attempt.

“Raise your hand
s where I can see ‘em.” The rough voice does nothing to calm my racing heart. “Now slowly, making no sudden movements, I want you to lower the mask. Can you do that, Miss?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow hard and nod.

My left hand gently pulls at my mask, uncovering my face for the officer to see.

An annoyed huff. “
Fuck
. I knew it was you.”

The light lowers and I open my eyes. They don’t want to cooperate. I blink a little while before my vision clears.
And I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. I chuckle humourlessly, “You have got to be kidding me.”

Marco smirks. “Nice to see you, too, baby.”

The humour flees my face with such speed that immediately the air feels cooler around me. “Don’t call me that.”

His face
quickly becomes expressionless. He clears his throat. “You have something to do with the murder of a squatter just up the way?”

I glare at him.

There’s no point in answering. He already knows.

He scratches at his chin with the butt of his gun. “Wanna tell me why she deserved it?”

Because she was feeding drugs to her babies to keep ‘em quiet while she did her begging routine during the day.

I continue to glare at him. He loses his cool. “Dammit, Cat, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

My eyes roll of their own accord. I add in a scoff for good measure.

He takes a step closer to me. I wish he hadn’t done that. He smells amazing. Not to mention th
e way his uniform hugs his body makes me want to repeat history. Stupid, stupid history. I tell myself that’s just the adrenaline from the kill. Neither I nor my brain believe that.

He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You think I’m gonna snitch on you, honey? Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re not in jail right now and why the fuck I’ve been demoted from detective to late night patrol
and desk work.”

Jerking my chin from his grip, I think on that for a second, never taking my eyes off of him. “You didn’t give us up?”

“No, ma’am.”

I don’t understand. “Why? You don’t owe us anything.”

His gaze moves down to my lips. My heart skips a beat as he mutters distractedly, “I’d do anything for another taste.” Shaking his head, he answers with, “I know I don’t owe you a damn thing. But it just didn’t feel right.”

Why can’t I just be a normal teenager sometimes? “Listen, if this is because of the sex
—”

His eyes narrow as he cuts me off with a dangerously calm, “It was more than sex and you know it.”
He regains composure quickly and adds, “It was because I support what Mirage is and what you do there. I’m a cop. I know how often people can get off on a technicality. And it’s not right. You fix what I can’t.”

I can’t help it. A part of me is so desperate for contact right now. When I reach out and place my hand on his chest, he wraps an arm around me. He lowers his face as I close my eyes. Our lips close, he runs his nose down mine.

My stomach flutters. But something isn’t there.

He pecks my lips, softly, before pulling me closer and taking my mouth in a deep, controlled kiss.

Hmm.

This isn’t how I remembered it.
Eyes closed, an image is suddenly projected in my mind’s eye. Xavier pulling me close in the kitchen, laughing out loud. What little feeling I had towards Marco immediately dissipates.

The hand against his chest pushes and he steps back. He watches me cautiously. “Sorry. Old habits, you know?”

I nod but remain silent.

After a moment, I ask more out of curiosity than anything, “So… you’re letting me go, right?”

He lifts a hand and scratches at his short hair. I learned this is something of a nervous habit for Marco. “Yeah, honey. I’m letting you go.” He looks away and mumbles, “Again.” He walks away from me, but before he hits the street, he turns and states, “If you ever need help, any help at all, you call me. I’m at the precinct. My surname is Watts. Officer Mark Watts.”

As he hits the street, I hear Marco call out
an annoyed, “Put it away, Bob. I didn’t hurt her. Fuck, man. Get a grip.”

A car starts then takes off.
Not a second later, Bob is by my side, holding me up. “You okay?”

I don’t answer but wrap an arm around his waist as he walks me to the car. We get in and go along our way. Halfway home, Bob asks, “You want to talk about it? Any of it?”

I speak into the window as I lean my forehead on the cool glass. “No. Thanks.”

“Okay. But you know I have to ask.”

“Marco?”

He sighs, “
Yeah.”

Feeling bitter at losing my first lover and my best friend
to shitty circumstances, I answer a cool, “No need to worry, Father Robert. Our secret is safe.”

“You sure?”

My jaw steels. I respond in an icy tone. “I would bet your life on it.”

We drive the rest of the way in complete silence.