13. Patrick
We continued to practice shooting for an hour every day for the next two days, with me teaching Ariella different foot positions. The weaver stance, where one foot is in front of the other, was the most comfortable for her, so we continued practicing with that. When she hit all fifteen targets without missing a shot, I knew she could handle herself.
“When we first started doing this, I didn’t understand why everyone enjoyed it so much,” Ariella tells me.
“And now you do?”
“Yes! It’s such a rush, holding that much power in your hands. I can hear my father speaking in my head.” She lowers her voice an octave, “Young lady, remember that power is to be used only for good, and never let it go to your head. Never wield it for personal gain, but only to help those unable to help themselves.”
“That’s good advice.”
She nods. “It is. Though I’m pretty sure he was referring to using my position and words, not a Glock.”
Her excitement is adorable, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss her right then and there, but I don’t. She must have been thinking the same thing and noticed my hesitation.
“It’s been days since you last kissed me, Patrick. Why?” she asks shyly.
I tilt her chin up, and she closes her eyes, expecting a kiss that never comes. “Look at me, Ari.” I won’t continue until she opens them; when she does, they’re glistening. “I want to kiss you more than I want to breathe, Ari, but I can’t. Not yet. Not when we have so much to discuss first. I’m not ready to go down that path again until we have a clear destination in mind. You lied to me for years and kept my son from me.”
“But…”
“Let me finish, please. In my head, I understand why you felt the need to keep the secret. I may have even done the same thing in your shoes. You had noble intent, and I get that. But my heart still hurts from that decision, and it will take time for that wound to heal. Just know that I’m trying, okay?”
“Do you still love me?” she asks, no longer looking at me.
“Yes, Ari. I still love you. I never stopped. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be hurt and upset. When this is over, you still have a responsibility to Cothena, and your people may not accept me as your husband. What then? Would you give up everything to be here with me if they don’t? You will need to figure out the answer to these questions before this can go any further. I will not be kept from my son, which means you will have to come clean to your parents and your people.”
I hug her gently and hold her until Alex shouts from the top of the porch, “Time for dinner! Grandma made my favorite! Macaroni and cheese! And guess what? It’s not from a box!”
Alex runs back inside after his announcement, and we turn to follow him. When we get to the bottom of the steps, she says softly, “I don’t have all the answers, Patrick. But I can promise you one thing. I will never keep Alex from you again.”
“Thank you.”
As promised, dinner is homemade macaroni and cheese, loaded with bacon. Along with it, my mom also roasted a few chickens and steamed green beans. When everyone is finished, Ariella and I clear the dishes, but Savannah and Jessie offer to wash and dry them.
We head into the living room, where Jerry sits in a chair, the laptop in front of him. My parents are on the loveseat, leaving the longer couch available for the three of us.
“You know, Jerry, it’s not necessary to keep your eyes glued to the screen. The detection systems will alert us if anyone crosses the perimeter.”
“I know, but it’s better than watching the romance novel playing out in front of me,” he says deadpan.
My dad barks out a laugh, and my mom sniggers. I roll my eyes and ignore the comment. I plop down on the sofa, Alex sitting beside me and forcing his mom to sit on his other side. I give her a wry grin but don’t ask Alex to move. I’ll soak up every ounce of attention that he gives me. I’ve missed too much already, and I refuse to miss any more.
“How have you two been married all these years, and your parents never knew?” my dad asks Ariella.
“My father knew. Cothena doesn’t recognize marriages performed in the Bahamas the same way that the United States does. Although Patrick and I waited until marriage to consummate, my mother wouldn’t have seen it that way. She would have forced me to marry Kiernan regardless of my vows and possibly taken extreme measures to ensure Patrick stayed away for good.”
I look down at Alex, wondering if he should be listening in on this conversation. When Ariella notices, she says, “Alex knows what’s at stake. I had to tell him everything when he overheard Kiernan and me talking about you a few years ago. Nothing said here should be news to him.”
“How come you never declared your marriage when you returned from that assignment, Patrick,” Jessie asks as she and Savannah enter the room.
“I was going to, but when I saw that Ari had eloped, I didn’t see the point. Before we said our vows, she had explained that Cothena wouldn’t accept the marriage. It didn’t matter to me if anyone other than my parents knew. My vows were said before God and a priest. A piece of paper didn’t change my promise.”
Savannah tilts her head, curious. “When you told me the story of you and Ariella, why didn’t you tell me then that you were married? You let me believe that you two had an affair.”
I shrug. “People think whatever they want. Would you have believed me if I told you I was married and been hiding that for more than nine years?” I ask her.
“Maybe. It would have explained a lot, and as far as I know, you’ve never lied to us,” she admits.
“Not unless you count omission,” Jessie interjects.
“My personal life is just that. Personal. None of us talk much about our pasts or how we came to be where we are. Care to share your story? Any of you?” I ask. They all shake their heads.
“Point taken,” says Jessie. She taps Savannah on the shoulder and whispers something in her ear.
“We’ve got to get ready for our big date. We’ll stop back by before we leave.”
When they’re gone, I explain their departure. “It’s been too quiet since those two guys showed up on our property. Jessie and Savannah will wear small body cameras and head into town. We’ll see what the locals say or if anyone stands out in the crowd.”
“Oh. I had almost forgotten about them,” Ariella says quietly.
I hadn’t. Not by a long shot.
My dad took Alex to the pool once the girls left for the night. Billings is about a half-hour drive, but Huntley is a lot closer. It’s the best place to start a search since we suspect that the two men who were on the property are staying close by. Thankfully, there are only a few small motels where travelers stay and one bar where the locals congregate. If they’re there, Savannah and Jessie will find them.
“Cameras are live,” says Jerry.
“Where are they going?” Ariella asks, whispering.
“They can’t hear you, so it’s okay to talk at a normal volume. But to answer your question, it’s a dive bar called Staghouse. They’re primarily known for their elk burgers and craft brews. It’s a local hangout, but the tourists traveling down the I-90 occasionally stop in. It’s a fun little place for some two-steppin’ and live music when they have it. They even have an old jukebox that still plays vinyl records.”
“Two-steppin’? What’s that?” she asks, her nose scrunched up.
“It’s a type of dancing. I can teach you later if you want to learn. The basics are pretty easy, and it’s a lot of fun.”
“That would be wonderful,” she says. She plans to say more, but she gets interrupted when the audio on Savannah and Jessie’s body cameras turn on.
“Hi, I’m Brock. You don’t happen to be from Tennessee, do you?” a man asks Savannah.
“Um, No. I’m from Georgia. Why do you ask?”
“Because you are the only ‘ten’ I see,” he says, smirking at her. She snorts, and I don’t mean the cute, delicate kind. Savannah sounds like one of the hogs on Mr. Dunkin’s farm down the road.
One thing I know about Savannah is that she doesn’t snort. As a prior pageant queen, her mother would have trained that bad habit right out of her. But it doesn’t stop all of us from laughing as she continues. Poor Brock looks disgusted, and he turns around to leave.
“So, not a ten, then?” Jessie asks towards his retreating back.
When Savannah and Jessie order a drink from the bar, the bartender stares at Jessie, who’s wearing denim jeans, a white tank top, and a flannel shirt tied in a knot.
“This isn’t one of those 18 and over hootenannies. Come back when you’re legal, and I’ll serve you your first beer.”
“I’m not a teenager. I’m 32 years old and more than capable of ordering and being served a beer.” He arches a skeptical eyebrow. Instead of wasting time arguing with him, she pulls out her identification and slides it over to him. “What can I say? I have excellent genes.”
Savannah chuckles. “And she got them from Walmart for $14.99 on clearance!”
The bartender looks annoyed by their antics but scans the back of her card anyway. The machine gives him a green light, validating the barcode on the back. “It checks out. What will the two of you have?” he asks, sliding Jessie’s ID back to her.
Savannah requests an amber on tap, which he pours and sets in front of her. He looks at Jessie.
“And for you?”
Jessie gives him a saccharine-sweet smile as she bats her eyes and says, “A diet Coke with a twist of lime, please.”
“If you were going to order a soda pop, why did you go through all that?”
“Because you made an assumption that needed to be corrected,” she answers honestly, giving him a small shrug.
“I can respect that. I should have just carded you both from the get-go. If you change your mind and decide you want a beer, it’s on me.” He winks.
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with the soda.”
“With a twist of lime. Got it, and it’s on the house.” He quickly makes the drink and sets it down in front of her. When she reads the napkin, there’s a phone number scrawled on it. Jessie smiles but says nothing as she tucks the napkin in her back pocket. Knowing Jessie, she has no intention of calling him for a date but might end up using the number to get information later.
Another hour passes as the girls chit-chat with the locals and take a few spins on the dance floor.
I’m on the cusp of being bored when Ariella shouts, “STOP!”
“What? Who did you see?” I ask her.
“Two guys are sitting at a table in the corner. I only caught a brief glimpse and can’t be sure…”
Jerry touches the comm link to open two-way communication, “Savannah, direct your camera toward the two men in the corner. Find some reason to get closer so we can get a better look at their faces.”
She does, and as she comes closer, the two men lock eyes with her and immediately get up to leave. She turns her body so the camera continues to pan around the room. “Is it something I said?” she asks, though they ignore her.
Jessie mumbles, “They know they’ve been made. Do you want us to head back?”
I tap my comms, “Stand by for now. I’ll have an update soon.”
Ariella’s face is pale, and her hand trembles slightly. “Ari, can you tell me who those men are?”
She dips her chin once and softly says, “That’s Jovian and Simon, two of the queen’s elite royal guard.”
I quickly pass on the information to Savannah and Jessie, asking them to see what they can find out. As I’m giving them their directive, Ariella touches me to get my attention.
“You should warn them to stay on high alert and watch their backs. Where there are two, there are often more. The elite squads are comprised of eight members, broken into two four-man teams. I’m willing to bet at least four of them are in town, and they are very good at what they do.”
When I relay Ariella’s warning, Jessie responds, “Yeah, but we’re better.”