Chapter 22 Bit
BIT
Even as I said the words—that while many things in her life were uncertain, my love for her was absolute—I knew it could never be that simple. I did love her, and I always would, but could that be enough for her and for me?
The darkness I’d felt for as long as I could remember too often overshadowed everything else in my life.
I’d never been a rainbow-and-sunshine kind of guy, and regardless of how much light Eberly filled my life with, my depression would eventually eclipse it.
It was as inevitable as the tide turning.
Last night, while she’d slept soundly, I was plagued by overwhelming anxiety. The feeling that something horrible was about to happen spread throughout my body. Taut muscles, heaviness on my chest, and dread in my stomach made sleep impossible.
In moments like these, when it was so easy for me to share my feelings honestly, I lamented that it wasn’t always possible, let alone simple.
If Eberly woke in the middle of the night to find my eyes wide open and she asked what was wrong, I knew without any doubt I would’ve lied and said it was nothing.
I was ashamed that I’d tried to assuage my pain through sex when I woke Eberly and took her from behind. I was proud of her when I’d gotten rougher than I was and she’d said, “Yellow.” When I confirmed she only wanted to slow down, she assured me she knew when to use the word red.
“Are you okay?” she asked, raising her head from my shoulder.
“Don’t ever forget I love you.”
“I won’t. Don’t you forget, either.”
The natural supposition was she meant not to forget she loved me. Except my first thought was about my feelings for her.
As I’d told Eberly a few minutes ago, my plan was to set up round-the-clock security for her today. I’d learned a lesson a year ago, and that was, regardless of how tight I believed security was at Los Cab, here, or anywhere, there would be holes that those with evil in their blood could find.
Part of me wanted to take her to Tryst’s ranch. While it wasn’t any more secure than this one, it was hours away, in Mexico.
“I feel like you’re having a conversation with yourself.”
I chuckled at the accuracy of her statement. “Sorry, little dove. Your safety is at the forefront of my mind this morning.”
“Do you think we could go to my house today? I’d like to pick up some more clothes and maybe a few other things.”
“Of course.” I tried not to let her see the trepidation I felt over leaving this ranch. Eberly wasn’t a prisoner here, and I certainly didn’t want her to feel as though she was. “I’ll call Snapper and let him know we’re on our way.”
I could feel Eberly’s tension increase when we were within a mile of her house. “There was a time I wasn’t sure I could return to the wine caves.”
“How long did it take you to get over it?”
“I still hate walking past the room where the attack happened, but it gets easier each time I do.”
“You were attacked and left for dead. My phone rang a bunch of times at midnight. Vast difference in experiences.” Eberly was facing the window, so I couldn’t see her expression.
“Who did you learn that from?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning toward me.
“Which of your parents discounted their feelings?”
She shrugged. “My dad, I guess. From him, I learned to be a realist and to believe in magic from my mom.”
I pulled up to the newly installed gate, entered the code Snapper sent me, then drove through.
“That closes fast,” Eberly commented, looking behind us.
“Its sensors are set to once a vehicle has safely crossed,” I muttered, noticing Snapper walking in our direction.
The look on his face was one I was familiar with; I’d seen it in the mirror often enough.
He was frustrated enough about something that, with every step he took in our direction, his expression darkened.
“Give me a minute before we go inside,” I said to Eberly after walking to open her door.
“What’s up?” I asked when my brother got closer.
“Nothin’,” he muttered, looking off in the distance.
My mouth gaped. “If whatever you’re pissed off about will affect Eberly in any way—”
“It won’t. It’s some ropin’ shit with Kick.”
My two youngest siblings had been joined at the hip from the time they were kids. In fact, they looked and acted so much alike that most people thought they were twins. They weren’t. Two years separated them in the same way it did Snapper and me.
“Is he here?” I asked since I had expected he would be.
“Yeah, he’s here.” He sneered.
“We’ll talk later,” I said, motioning to where Eberly sat, waiting for me—to go into her own house. How fucked up was that?
I knew something serious was up when, rather than protest, Snapper thanked me.
“Hey. Sorry,” I said. “Ready to go in?”
“No problem, and I guess so.” Eberly took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips, but didn’t take a step forward.
“We don’t have to do this now.”
“It isn’t that I’m afraid or anything. It’s more that wherever I look, something will remind me of what my dad did.”
I took her hand and led her over to a bench that sat in the middle of the garden that was planted in the middle of the circular driveway. “Tell me about this,” I said, motioning to the flowers and other plants.
She surveyed the space, and gradually, her expression turned from a frown to a smile.
“My mom and I started this butterfly garden when I was a young girl. I might’ve been ten.
I can’t remember exactly. We worked on it all the time, until she got sick.
Then she’d come out with me and sit where we are while I weeded and deadheaded. ” She chuckled.
“What?” I asked.
“She took great pleasure in ordering me around while I did.”
“Are there other gardens the two of you planted?”
“Many, actually.”
“Will you show them to me?”
Her eyes lit up. “Of course.”
“I see where you got the idea for the kitchen garden,” I said when we walked to the side yard that was off that part of the house.
“She and I used to make dinner together, and we’d come out here and get fresh vegetables and herbs to use.
Sometimes, we’d base the whole meal around whatever was ripe.
” Eberly smiled again. “It drove my dad crazy when he’d return to the house after spending the day in the winery to find what he called ‘rabbit food’ instead of a real dinner. ”
We continued around to the opposite side of the house, where a rock garden bordered one side of the patio with flagstone steps leading up to a seating area.
“We could go in this way, unless there’s more you want to show me,” I suggested.
“Most of the rest were around the tasting room and winery.” Her eyes scrunched. “I don’t have a key.”
“Right. Hang on.” I sent a text to Snapper, who came around the corner of the house a few seconds later. Like earlier, his expression troubled me. There had to be something else going on besides a disagreement between Kick and him.
“I need to give you an overview of the new security stuff that’s been added, but you won’t need keys any longer. Everyone with access to the house will have a unique code, which you’ll determine now. It needs to be three letters and three numbers, none consecutive, and nothing too obvious.”
“Like my birthday?” Eberly said, rolling her eyes. “I swear that’s the only code we’ve ever used for anything.”
She wasn’t watching Snapper, but I was. Something about what she’d said made him flinch.
“Once everyone’s set up, I’ll get rid of my code. I have it now so I can do the programming and testing,” my brother explained. He looked between Eberly and me. “Let me know if you, uh, want anyone else to have access.”
She looked confused for a minute, but then it dawned on her what he was asking. “I definitely want Trevino to have access.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Her eyes widened but not in surprise. She blinked several times and looked away. “If you don’t think it’s appropriate, then…”
“I mean, I’m happy to, err, honored, really.”
Snapper nudged me. “Give me your code.”
“Hang on,” I said when Eberly punched hers in and was about to go inside. Something felt off to me. “Let me go ahead of you.”
She stepped aside, and I walked in.
“Someone’s been in here,” she said once we were a few feet beyond the door. She looked at Snapper. “Was it you?”
“I haven’t been in this part of the house.”
“Tell me what makes you think someone was,” I said.
She grabbed my arm. “It was Tiernan.”
I put my arm around her waist. “Why, Eberly?”
“His cologne. Green Irish Tweed, it’s called.” She shivered. “I’ve always hated it.”
“Do you want to return outside?” I asked.
“Let’s go into the other room instead,” Snapper suggested.
Once in the living room, he asked us to take a seat. “We did see someone on the surveillance footage entering the house through a walled-off area on the east side.”
“The secret garden,” said Eberly.
“While most of the property was wired, there were areas that hadn’t been completed yet. By the time we got over here, whoever it was, was gone.”
I was seething. “When was this?”
“Zero four hundred, err, four this morning.”
I let go of Eberly’s hand, stood, and walked to the other side of the room. I got why he wasn’t elaborating. He didn’t want her to freak out. My problem was that that I hadn’t been informed of it until now.
“We’ve had a crew here since then,” he said when my eyes bored into his. “The first thing that was secured was the house.”
“By whom?”
“Ashford.”
“He’s here?” My fists clenched. It was another thing I hadn’t been informed of, and why the fuck not?
“Some was done remotely, but, yeah, he’s here.”
Snapper had more to say, but wouldn’t now because of Eberly; that much was clear. Except this was her house and her life.
“Start at the beginning. A person, whose identity you haven’t yet determined, gained access to the house at approximately four this morning. Is that correct?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Was there footage of him leaving the house?”
“Yes. About ten minutes later.”
“Who responded to the breach?”