Chapter 47
roulette with my ovaries
Cian
“Any luck?”
“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Liam starts. “Freddie Gauthier seems to be on the straight and narrow. Well, as much as any addict can be. He’s been to Rosie’s again, but she asked him to leave. She didn’t want the girls to see him milling about.”
“Makes sense.”
“We have another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Rosie has called out of work for the week. She can’t very well go to the center with five teenagers in her home who don’t understand modern technology.”
“And?”
“And Rosie Ocotea can’t afford not to work.”
“So, Sariah’s not working, I’m not working, and Rosie’s not working. We have three mortgages, and none of us are independently wealthy. Good times.” I stare at the headliner of my truck’s cab and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ll get you some cash. Can you get it into her account?”
“The old-fashioned way, sure. Banks never argue with cash deposits.”
“Keep digging on Gauthier. Somehow, I don’t feel we’ve seen the end of him.”
“My gut says you’re right.” The roar of pipes thunders behind him.
“You out on the road?”
“Near Gunnison. I needed to tear up some curves and get some fresh air.”
“Stay safe and keep the shiny side up.”
“You know it.” My brother clicks off just as his engine revs.
Leaning back on the island stool, I check the clock. It’s after midnight. I haven’t had a daily office routine since the shit went down with the Laotians. How long ago was that now? Have we even checked to see if they’re still a threat?
I’ll add that to the list. I have enough dangling threads in my life to make a fucking quilt.
The most pressing one for me right now is Jonas. The man may or may not have a legal last name. Even Liam can’t find it.
We saved Renée, at least once. We saved Sariah, though the nightmares continue. We got Rosie and five fourteen-year-olds free and clear.
But the man needs to go down.
I don’t like the idea of using the girls as bait. But what better way to draw the guy out? It’s terrible, but if they could be safe, we could be rid of him once and for all.
None of this is quick. Mostly because Rosie’s girls, what I’ve taken to calling them in my head, freeze up around me. Or they did. Integration into modern life will be brutal—well, more brutal—if they can’t be near men.
I need them to trust me, to trust us, for an operation like this to go with as few hitches as possible.
My father is… what the hell is he? I don’t know. He admitted to everything to Ayla. That was weeks ago—it was a nail in a coffin that was already superglued shut.
Mom has decisions to make. I won’t force that. Yet. We’ve been tight. Aside from her making allowances for my father’s behavior, she’s been a great mom. Somehow that’s like saying, aside from the shit in the brownies, the texture and chocolate are spot on. Gross.
Ayla laid it out for Mom already. I guess I’ll have to too. My family won’t be near a man who would be—and do—to his kids what Seamus Murphy has. She’s welcome; he is not. And seeing as I have the first grandchild, she needs to decide quickly.
I slide a notepad and pen from a drawer and start lining out things I have to figure out.
What’s the status of the Laotians?
House before next school year?
Mom.
Therapist.
Connect2Coach owners – where are they?
Jonas.
What do we do with five teenagers?
Phoenix.
Who is Freddie Gauthier?
Geez. So everything in my life but the two Ocoteas under my roof is in flux. It’s a wonder I sleep at all.
I put a one next to the house-and-school line item and a number two next to “Mom.” Might as well hit the easiest items first. I’d scoff, but those, in fact, will be the easiest to tick off.
My phone buzzes.
Liam: You up?
Me: Yep.
My phone rings, and I’m right to dread what comes next.
“One of the girls ran away.”
Fuck my life. “When? Where?”
“If I knew where, I wouldn’t call it running away. When is sometime in the last three hours.”
“Do we know who?”
“Ruth.”
“The quiet one? The meek one who always looked terrified?”
“No clue. I only saw them once and they all looked terrified.”
“So a girl with no concept of distance or modern technology is on the lam in one of the biggest cities in the country, with no… anything. Do I have that right?”
“You do.”
“Fuck.”
“Yep.”
“Where do we even begin?” But I know. We begin with Rosie. She knows more about these girls than anyone. Sariah spent hours, but Rosie has lived with them.
“I’ll head there now. Hate to ask, brother, but…”
“I’m on my way.” He clicks off.
One day my brother will learn phone etiquette. That’s a lie. He says more than he wants as it is. He has no desire for pleasantries.
I make my way into the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed on Sariah’s side after slipping on some sneakers and a clean tee.
“Angel?”
She stirs and extends a hand.
“Sariah, I need you to wake up.” I rub her shoulder.
Her eyes drift open, and she looks around as if she’s confused.
“Why are you over here? And why are you dressed?”
My palm on her shoulder flexes. “I need to run out. Liam will be here while I’m gone.”
“Your brother doesn’t need to babysit us.” She sits up. “Why does he need to be here, and where are you going?”
“For my peace of mind, Angel. I want to know you’re safe.”
She grabs her phone off the nightstand. “It’s nearly one in the morning. Where are you going?”
“Rosie’s. Ruth ran away. I’m going to try to find her.”
Her eyes close, and her head drops. “She’ll be so lost.”
“Right.”
“And so scared.” Her head whips up. “I should go with you.”
“Renée needs you. And I will be more focused if I know you’re both safe.”
“I’m not weak.”
“No, baby, you’re not. You’re the strongest woman I know. But you are vulnerable. Jonas is making it so we’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We have more than enough pairs in the air as it is. Separating you and Renée right now feels like a good strategy for him.”
“Divide and conquer?”
“Would he?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that man.”
Leaning down, I place a kiss on her forehead. “Same. So stay safe. Get some rest. You want to go climb in with Renée?”
She shrugs.
“That’s not a bad idea.” She slides the covers aside, and I can’t help but stare at the woman before me.
“I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“Please be lucky finding that runaway girl. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling. No, actually I can, and it’s not good, Ci.”
I kiss her softly as I hear pipes in the driveway. “I’ll do everything within my power.”
Everything within my power is not enough. Ruth is gone. Liam even called in a favor with the sheriff’s department. Cameras have nothing to help us either.
It is not lost on me that Emma ran away from danger, though we found her and got her home to her mom, while Ruth ran into it. The brave girl, or the meek girl attempting bravery, has vanished.
I come home just after the sun rises, exhausted emotionally and physically.
Liam sits at the island, pounding away at his laptop, looking no worse for wear. My list sits beside him with lines drawn through two items.
“So I don’t need to worry about the Laotians or the app developers?”
He shakes his head, his full beard dancing with the motion.
“Laotians are back in their home country, making trouble for their own. Others will rise up stateside, but Denver is off their radar, at least as far as all hackable channels go. Never say never, but they’re out of my mind enough to tick them off. ”
“And Connect2Coach?”
“The owners and the developers who knew are in federal custody. I won’t write them off in the long term, but for now, their lawyers don’t have nearly the firepower they’ll need to bring anything down on Sariah.”
I exhale feeling taller by the moment.
“I suspect they could mess with her at some point, but they won’t have access to computers for a long while. I set up some alerts that will notify you. Emails for anything newsworthy. Anything more urgent, and we’ll all know. She’s safe.”
“You make that sound easy.”
“Easier than Mom or therapy,” he says, nodding at the list as he closes the lid of his computer. “I choose my battles. That said, I’m digging into that last one. We’ll figure it out.”
With a handshake and no other fanfare, he sees himself out. The roar of his motorcycle fades as I start the coffee and flop on the sofa. I whistle low, but only scratching meets my ears.
I’m loathe to open Renée’s door, but for Eleanor. I crack it as minimally as possible and let my girl slip out—our girl, I guess, officially—and then outside.
We stand in the sunshine. She sniffs and I pace. I scan the tree line like a sniper waits there just to pick us off. My imagination wasn’t this creative as a child.
In order to set my mind at ease, I do the hardest thing, and the most basic one, on my list.
I slide my phone from my pocket and dial my mom.
“Cian? How are you?”
“Hi, Mom.”
There’s an awkward pause. When did this get so difficult?
“How are you recovering?”
“Eh. It’s okay. The dental stuff is scheduled. I’m hoping that’s a one-and-done. My cheek required a follow up and chances are it will require a second surgery. I—” I pause, deciding how much to reveal. “I reinjured it last weekend.”
“How?” The panic in her voice is rising.
“What’s wrong?” my father booms from the background.
“This isn’t going to be easy, so I’m just going to spit it out. I met someone. We’re forming a life together. She has a child, and we’ll have more together.”
“Ci—”
“Let me finish.” My voice is placating and tender. “I love you and I want you in our lives. My father is not welcome. You need to decide how you want to proceed with that knowledge.”
“Ci.” Her voice is sharp in reprimand.
“No, Mom. This is non-negotiable. If you want to know your granddaughter or your future grandkids, this is the way it’s going to be.”
“But—” she starts but she’s cut off by the voice in the background. “Janie.” His voice is a warning.