Resurrect Me

Chapter 21

Tacy

“Have a great day, kids!” I call through the passenger window as Cammy and Ben skip up the steps to school. Cammy looks over her shoulder and smiles, says I love you, then hurries off. And Ben? Well, Ben never was the clingy type. More like his father than me. He waves a hand at me but doesn’t so much as sneak a peek at me before trudging up the stairs and meeting up with his best bud.

It’s the middle of the week, and I’ve heard from Aris every day since our night together. He still texts me from the unknown number, and I’ve kept myself from using any identifiers in our text messages to one another. I don’t want anyone to be able to trace him…or us, for that matter.

I have the day off, after working a grueling fourteen-hour shift yesterday, and losing two more patients. Both were prescribed Duselizab. I refused to administer the med to either of my patients, which pissed off my nursing supervisor royally. But I don’t care. I won’t be held responsible for these young women’s deaths. I refuse to have any more blood on my hands. And, as a nurse, I have the right to refuse. Not an hour after my supervisor administered the IV transfusion did my first patient go into grand mal seizures. And the other, I heard she went into respiratory arrest fifteen minutes after I walked out the door. I’ve submitted two reports to administrators about my concerns over the drug, but they were ignored. The Org has more control than even Aris realizes.

I will use my day off wisely…if stalking your anonymous dead husband is a wise decision. It’s killing me being in the dark about what he’s doing now that he’s not living with me, not working in politics, and basically living on the outskirts of society. He’s a vigilante and anonymous, and I’m sorry but I’m tired of waiting for him to let me into his new world. He’s living a double life, and I have to know what his other life is like.

I pull around the back of the school, on a quiet residential road, and text him.

“I have the day off. I want to see you.”

It takes a few minutes, but he texts back. As always. He may be unnamed, but he is reliable.

“I want to see you, Babydoll. But it’ll have to wait until later. Something came up. Something big.”

Something came up. Is he standing me up for a date that we never scheduled? What the fuck?

“Maybe I can help.”

Three dots…then…

“I think it’s best we keep you out of this,” he messages. “I can’t lose you again.”

“It’s me who lost YOU, remember? And I don’t see the difference in what we’ve already been through together and what could possibly happen in the future.”

“There’s a huge difference. You put yourself in that situation, and I got you out of it. I can’t knowingly bring you into the fold and be the one responsible for putting you back in harm’s way.”

“I put myself in that situation? Did I ask to be abducted? If it wasn’t for you, they would have never known about me in the first place.”

“Let’s meet up. We’ll continue this conversation face to face.”

Which means he’s worried about putting too much out there over text. Perfect. And I got my way.

“Meet me where we had our first date,” he types. “Oh…and can you bring some photos of the kids?”

I beam as I recall I have new school pictures of the kids on the kitchen counter. I head home, grab two wallet-sized photos, then head to the old Drive-in theater at the edge of town.

Fifteen minutes later, and I’m rolling into the parking lot of Dave’s Drive-in. The pavement is crumbling, and the giant screen is ripped in multiple places. Sad to see an iconic site like this one abandoned and forgotten. I park the car and get out, quietly close my door, and scan the parking lot for any sign of life. I don’t see Aris’s truck. Or Aris, for that matter.

Then I remember. We didn’t just have our first date at the Drive-in, we had it behind the screen. Sure, we watched most of the movie…I think it was Scream 2. But spent the latter half of it making out in the woods behind the projection. Aris, who was Solomon then, said it was the best place for privacy. Too many people we knew had parked all around us.

I wrap my arms around my body when a cold breeze blows by and then take my time walking to our spot. I get the sense that someone is watching, so I grip my keys between my fingers. I’m ready for anything.

Hoping it’s Aris, I peek around the corner of the screen and catch movement in the shadows of the large oaks. I inch forward and tuck my hair behind my ear. I bring my keys up to punching level. I’ve had too many things jumping out at me from the shadows lately to ignore my instincts.

“Aris?”

He eases out from the shadows, and I exhale. I drop my fists to my sides and relax a little.

Aris is wearing all dark clothing…as usual. But this time, a hoodie isn’t covering his body. I can see every line of his musculature. He wears a charcoal henley, which hugs his biceps and shoulders in all the right places. And a pair of fitted black jeans. And, most importantly, this time he dons no mask. He approaches me with outstretched arms.

“Hi, Babydoll,” he says, pulls me in, and lifts me in the air. Then squeezes me tightly against him. I inhale slowly, as the scent of moss and spruce envelope me. I can’t tell if I’m smelling the forest we’re standing beside or Aris. I bury my nose in the crease of his neck. Aris does the same. And I realize that warm, earthy aroma is him.

I land on my feet and peer around again. “Where’s your truck?”

“It’s hidden. In the woods,” he says. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a mask, if you’re that concerned?”

He reaches into his back pocket and removes a black mask with a skeleton face. “I’ve got one. I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s debatable,” I say and snort.

“Be nice,” he says and pinches my hip playfully.

I’m not sure if it’s the weather or his touch, but I get goosebumps from the top of my head that shoot down my legs.

We stare into each other’s eyes, allowing the world around us to fade away, allowing our hearts to speak in the silence. My frustration and anger towards him, for leaving me and the kids, for everything…just dissipates.

I reach up and touch the new gray streak in his ebony hair. “I didn’t notice this the other night.”

He grabs my hand and holds it to his chest.

“It was dark. And I had a mask on…for at least half of the night. Speaking of…did you know it was me the whole time?” He asks and tilts his head to the side.

I debate my answer to his question. If I say I didn’t know it was him, it might hurt him that I would fuck someone else. If I say that I did know…

“Yeah, I knew. You’re not the greatest at disguises.”

“Great. If you figured it out, I’m sure others will,” he says and pulls the skeleton mask over his head. His green eyes reflect the sunlight and draw me in further.

I frown. “I miss your face.”

“And I miss yours,” he says as he adjusts the mask at the back.

I can’t even see his hair with this thing over it. My frown turns to a scowl. I know he notices, but he ignores my mood.

“Any problems with the cops? You haven’t heard anything more about Starkey, have you?”

I shake my head. “No, not a peep.”

“That’s good. If you do, let’s lawyer up,” he says and sighs. “And I know just the guy.”

“Hopefully you’ve confirmed this attorney is not part of The Org or has zero relation to Declan.”

“None. He’s one of us. One of The Rebellis.”

I nod and shiver when another icy draft hits me.

“I lost two more patients,” I say.

I can’t see his facial expressions, but I can tell his jaw is flexing as the mask jiggles slightly.

“They were both on Duselizab, right?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I reported both cases. My manager and supervisor continue to sweep it under the rug. And the hospital administrators ignore me.”

“Yeah, that’s because they all work for The Org.”

“I doubt my supervisor is in on it, though. She’s a good woman. She wouldn’t knowingly feed these young people a medication that could kill them. At least…I don’t think she would.”

“Didn’t we used to think Declan was a good man? Didn’t we let him into our house…around our children? Didn’t he sit at our Christmas dinner table five years in a row? Good people can be turned. All it takes is a little extra money. Power. Sometimes a threat or two. Or maybe they were never truly good people to begin with. Maybe for some people, the goodness is all a facade.”

“I’m tired of this,” I say. “I want things to go back to normal. How they used to be. You, me, Cammy and Ben. Just a normal family with a white picket fence. You know?”

He nods but is distracted when his phone beeps. He quickly slides it from his back pocket to check the notification. Then he grunts and shoves it back in his pocket.

“We were never normal, Tacy. You know that. I have a monster in me that kept itself buried for decades. Now that it’s been released, it won’t ever go away. It’s ready to devour evil. It feeds on it. My mission in this life is simple: defend the innocent. And to do that, I must corral the corrupt. Dismantle The Org. I can’t ever go back. Not until they are no more.”

“I’m not normal either, Sol. I mean, Aris,” I blush after I say the wrong name. “I have a past. A dark past.”

“Tacy, whatever you did while you were in Washington was because you were in survival mode. People do whatever it takes to keep themselves going. You had no father, and your mother was never around. They abandoned you. And when that coven, or cult, accepted you with open arms, you felt loved. Seen. And they took advantage of that. You were vulnerable. You aren’t to blame. Starkey and his crew are to blame.”

“And we killed him.”

“The mother fucker deserved more than a quick death. He deserved to be hung up from the rafters, his guts ripped out of his navel and forced to eat his own excrement.”

“Brutal,” I say and chuckle. Nurses have a dark sense of humor. As do escaped cult members. And…stalkers.

“It’s true. Not just for working for The Org but for abducting you. And all the times he manipulated you and used you, when you needed a friend.”

Another ding escapes Aris’s jean pocket, and I withdraw from his embrace. I glance at my watch. Ten AM.

“I hate to do this, Tace, but I’ve got to go,” he says as he replies to a text message.

“Okay…but I really can’t be part of fight club?” I ask teasingly.

He snorts and caresses my face. “You know that’s a bad idea, Babydoll. You’re already too deep into this with the questions you’re asking about Duselizab. And if your abduction is any indication, we know you’re already on The Org’s list. And stay away from Declan.”

“I haven’t seen or heard from him in days. I think the last time I told him to fuck off was enough for him to steer clear. At least for a little while.”

“We still don’t know if he was involved in your abduction. But I suspect he has something to do with it, since you mentioned asking him about the medication beforehand. If you see or hear from him, let me know immediately. Call me on this number.”

My phone rings with a text from Aris. It’s yet another different phone number. I roll my eyes.

“Okay. But what are you going to do…kill Declan? You’d just be repeating what they did to you.”

“Tried to do to me.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t worry. You’ll be the first to know if Dee shows up again,” I reassure him. “Dee for Dick…not Declan.”

Aris laughs at my joke. Then, “I’ll talk to our guy and get him on standby, in case the cops come your way again.”

“Sure thing,” I say and shrug. “Though this makes me feel like a walking, ticking time bomb. I don’t know how I haven’t lost my fucking mind yet. The cops are on my ass. Declan wants my ass. The Org wants to kill my ass.”

Aris smirks, then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in. His lips meet mine, and we kiss deeply. I don’t want it to end.

But, as always, Aris pulls away and backs into the shadows again.

“Take care of yourself, Tace. Lay low. Don’t get into any trouble.”

My prodigal husband hurries off into the wooded area behind the big screen.

I make my way back to my car, then sit in the driver’s seat for a moment. Should I do it? Should I follow him? Or be a good girl and go home?

I’ve never been a good girl. So, I pull around the back of the Drive-in and onto a dirt road that leads to an abandoned lot. The lot Aris parked in, no doubt. He thinks he’s so slick, but he’s taken me to that lot before. Five years ago, when we had a wild date night…too many margaritas led us to scoping out a spot in which to fuck in public. I mean, we were tucked behind the trees and away from prying eyes…but we were still technically doing it in public. We are both voyeurs deep down.

I spot his gray truck, just rounding the bend. I slow down and follow behind him, about eight car lengths distance. I know the long driveway leads to the highway, so once we make it there, I just need to stay back so he doesn’t notice me. Luckily, my car is black, so it’s not too conspicuous. But, knowing his current occupation as an anonymous vigilante, I’m prepared for him to catch me. In fact, the idea of it excites me. Either way, I’m happy.

My stomach tightens and my heart quickens as I push on the gas and my tires hit the highway. Following him is giving me a bit of a rush. I always thought I preferred being the stalkee. Now I’m the stalker…and it’s fucking thrilling.

Aris’s truck weaves in and out of traffic. A large white van cuts me off and moves in front of me. Blocking my view of Aris. It’s all I can do to keep up.

“Jesus, slow down, Aris,” I mutter to no one.

After what feels like a high-speed chase on the interstate, Aris forgets to use his turn signal and exits the freeway. As do I.

“Harbor Towne. Of course,” I say as I read the exit sign. Harbor Towne is a little suburb on the coast, known for its port. Not a lot of people live there anymore, though it used to be a bustling part of town in the late nineteenth century. Mostly filled with old manufacturing plants and warehouses from a bygone era, as well as marinas for commercial fishermen. The perfect place for a hideout.

I continue following him, but slow down and watch as he parks his truck on the side of a strip mall behind an old green dumpster.

I flip down my visor and slap on a ballcap to play spy. Then I park across the street and behind an old sign, making double sure he hasn’t noticed me. I watch as Aris, without his skeleton mask, hops out of his truck, glances around briefly, unlocks a blacked-out glass door of an old shop and disappears inside.

I step out of my car and stare across the road at the building I’m about to enter. Hoping The Rebellis’s headquarters isn’t heavily guarded. Maybe I can slip in the back. There’s got to be another way in.

Aris

“Boss, your wife is here,” Clyde says as he enters my office.

“That’s hilarious, Clyde. Now get back to work,” I say and shrug him off. They like playing bullshit pranks on me like this all the time. And I’m not falling for it.

“I’m dead serious. It’s Tacy. Did you tell her about us? About the headquarters here?”

“Fuck,” I say and jump up from my chair. It slams on the floor, and I rush out into the dim hallway on Clyde’s heels.

He turns and looks at me wide-eyed. “Well…did you?”

“Sort of,” I admit.

“Boss. What the fuck?”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have. But she’s already in this, Clyde. Deep. She was fucking kidnapped last week after she questioned one of the meds. Declan Harvey is watching her. The Org is onto her. I think they’re the ones who abducted her, and they planned to fucking kill her, Clyde. If I hadn’t been following her that day, she would’ve died.”

“You’ve been stalking your own wife, Boss?”

Our voices echo off the walls down the long corridor. “It sounds fucking crazy when you say it like that.”

“It is fucking crazy, Aris. People don’t stalk their partners.”

“Most people don’t have a wife like Tacy Rountree,” I say and smile, as the night where we fucked in handcuffs covered in coconut oil flashes through my mind. My cock twitches.

Clyde leads me to the furthest room at the back of the warehouse. He slams open the heavy metal door and…lo and behold…there she is, seated at the council’s table. She must’ve followed me from the Drive-in. Damn it, Tacy.

“I should have known,” I say, shaking my head.

Clyde shoots me a look and exits quietly.

Tacy stares at me and smiles devilishly. “You should have known what?”

“That you’d follow me.”

I take a seat next to her. She’s sitting at the head of the table. My normal spot. The fluorescent lamps above us flicker. The chair squeaks as she leans back, getting way too comfortable in a place where cold blooded killers meet.

“Learned from the best,” she says, still grinning and nonchalantly surveying at her manicured fingernails.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Tace,” I remind her. Though, as the words slip out, I’m bracing for World War three.

“Why not?”

“This place is meant for The Rebellis only. It’s a building full of vigilantes. Delinquents. Anarchists…Killers.”

“What if I want to join you?” she asks sweetly. “I told you, there’s shit about me you don’t know, Aris. I’m not a sweet, innocent child.”

“You’re not a criminal, Babydoll. And I need you to be around for the kids. I can’t guarantee I’ll make it out of this alive. A war is coming.”

“It’s too late, Sol. Or Lazaris. Or whatever the fuck your name is now,” she crosses her arms over her chest. Her scarlet lipstick gleams in the yellow light. With every movement, her breasts bounce slightly. She’s not wearing a bra. God, she’s gorgeous when she’s pushing my buttons. I can’t have her here, but I want her here. I want to bend her over the table and fuck her tight little pussy.

“Why do you say that? It’s not too late,” I say and stroke her arm.

“I’m a killer, Aris.” The word hangs in the air around us. She’s said it before, but this time there’s an extra bite to it.

“You didn’t kill Starkey, Tace. I did,” I remind her. “And no one has come for you yet, right? If they do, I’ll come forward. I won’t let you take the fall.”

“I’m not talking about Starkey.”

My breath catches in my throat. A pipe creaks somewhere overhead. Water drips within the walls.

“Someone else, then?”

She nods and bites her bottom lip.

“Who?”

“The question you should be asking, Aris King, is how many?”

I clasp my hands in my lap and take a deep breath. My wife is a cold-blooded killer. Since when? And why? My mind is reeling, and I hear the guys stomping down the hallway, approaching the room. I glance at my watch. Almost lunch time. But food and the guys can wait. I need to understand who I married. The image I had of Tacy Rountree is quickly shapeshifting. Devolving. I swallow.

“Are you going to tell me, Tacy? Or are we going to sit here staring at each other until the fucking cows come home?”

She clicks her tongue and checks her watch. A nervous habit we both perpetuate. One of us picked it up off the other…as married couples do. Did my rebellious ways rub off on her? Or did hers rub off on me?

Tacy clears her throat and crosses her legs. “In high school.”

“Yeah? I’m assuming this has to do with the cult and Starkey, yes?”

She sighs. “The number is three.”

“You killed three people? Three fucking people, Tacy? Why?” The veins in my temples are pounding, and I breathe slowly to ward off tunnel vision. My wife…a killer. I stand and pace next to the table. I don’t know what to think. What to say.

“I had to,” she says. “It was out of self-defense. Or…at least he convinced me that it was out of self-defense. That if I didn’t do it…they would kill me first.”

“Were you on drugs at this point? Was this part of one of his sick rituals?” I ask and stop pacing long enough to catch her molars grinding and her muscles tensing. Good. I hope she’s anxious. Jesus Christ. I can’t believe she’s dumping this on me. Now, of all times. Right after our weapons are intercepted, and we discover we have a fucking rat in our midst.

“Yes, a heavy dose of hallucinogens,” she says. “A cocktail. And yes…part of the chastening ritual. Does it really matter, though? How or why I killed them? The point is, I did it. And I’m ready to do it again, but for the right reasons. For good, this time.”

“There’s never a good reason to kill, Tacy,” I say breathlessly.

There’s a knock on the door. Reggie sticks his head in, looks at me, then notices Tacy and winces. “Oops, sorry Boss. Didn’t know you were occupied.”

“Hi there, Reggie,” Tacy says, sneering. “Looking good.”

“Hi, Mrs. Rountree,” Reggie says and gives me a deer-in-the-headlights look.

“It’s Tacy,” she says.

“Right,” Reggie says. “Hi, Tacy.”

“What’s up Reg?” I ask him.

“Shawn has word from the sanction,” he replies, clasping the door in one hand. One foot in the room, one foot out.

“Give me until one, Reg. We’re almost done here.”

Tacy rolls her brown eyes, her lashes flutter like butterfly wings, and she stares at one of us then the other. “Barging in on us like old times, right…Reggie?”

Reggie’s mouth falls agape, and he squints at me. He throws his hands in the air as if to say, I don’t know what the fuck to do here. I shake my head and shrug. “I’ll meet you at the dock at one.”

Reggie confirms and the door clicks shut behind him. I turn to Tacy. This woman is my life…but she might be the death of me. The true death of me.

“Did you ever do time, Tacy? Or did the police ever question you while you lived in Washington?”

“No. Never. I sometimes wonder if the people I killed were already missing. Forgotten. Like they were runaways, and no one was looking for them, so no one found them. Know what I mean? At least, that’s what Starkey sort of…indicated.”

“Did anyone else see you…kill them?”

“Just Starkey.”

“What happened to the bodies? I mean, every kill leaves some sort of trail behind.”

“Rotting on the rocks…probably now at the bottom of the Pacific.”

I swallow the lump that’s forming in my throat. “What about the one that wasn’t self-defense?”

“Ritual,” she says point-blank.

Jesus Christ. Who is this woman? Truly?

“Tacy, I think it’s time for you to go,” I hold my arms out, implying I want a hug goodbye. Killer or not, she’s fucking adorable, and I still can’t help myself around her.

She spins towards me in the chair and tucks a loose strand of her chocolatey hair behind her ear. She uncrosses her legs, rises from the chair, and presses herself against me. I can smell her makeup and the heady scent of perfume on her.

“Fine. But if I’m not allowed to join your club, at least show me around the clubhouse. Pretty please?” She asks and bats her eyelashes.

I hesitate. I mean, she’s my wife. Even if she is a killer…how can I judge her? I’ve done some terrible things in my life too. And I know I can trust her over all these goons here. If I could fire everyone and make Tacy my sole partner in this mission, I would. But I have to think of her safety. And our family too.

“All right. But just a quick looksie, okay?”

She jumps and releases a little girlish squeal. Oh, Lord. What have I done? I’m married to a murderer with a manicure and Manolo’s.