30. Big Bear
BIG BEAR
Jordyn
What had I just heard? Sounded like a thunderclap. I’d put the dishes in the sink and made sudsy water. After scrubbing the same plate for the past five minutes, I decided to listen in on the call.
I’d strolled past the couches that separated the kitchen and the dining room farther out. No sooner was I within hearing distance than an explosion over the speakerphone rocked my ears. Enzo, seated toward me, nudged his chin to Jamie.
My guy turned around and got up. He pulled me into his arms. “We planted an untraceable IED at his house last night before coming here.”
I remembered that term. Explosive device. “I see.”
“He can’t harm us anymore.”
“Are you okay, honey?” Nan stepped around her broken chair and its wooden leg.
“I’m fine. It’s not every day when someone hears an explosion. I’m glad that’s another problem checked off Jamie’s list.” I shared a smile with him.
“Speaking of lists, I had another plan that I wanted to discuss with you.”
“What?”
“I’d found this neo-Nazi dude’s online footprint while he secured all of Nolan’s requests. While I’d never condone this guy’s stance on anything, I’m sure Nolan coerced him into finding us for Chelomey.”
“Now you want his help?”
“Heck no. Just updating you while I transition into what I wanted to discuss.” Jamie tightened the hug that sounded as if it had strings attached. “I’m not a hacker by any means, but we’ll hire someone if necessary. Find your parents.”
And there it was. Enough string to uproot me, twist me around. My tumultuous thoughts drowned out what Jamie had said. “No!”
“JorJor, I’ve already started scrubbing the internet with certain keywords. If that doesn’t work, we’ll hire a PI. I reunified two of the others with their families. Can’t I do that for you?”
“Two? Hello? There were more than two children in the basement with us!” Do not get my hopes up.
“I know.” He ran a hand through his dark dyed hair. “Ignacio died. Three others never seemed to have gone missing. Someone must’ve smuggled them into America.”
“So, it’s not a guarantee. If you succeed …” I massaged a hand over my throat.
“That’s a good thing. Success is?—”
“As far as I’m concerned, my deplorable life began when I was five. I’ve accepted what has happened to me in the past. Please don’t uproot more skeletons.”
“Jordyn. You deserve the truth.”
“Truth?” The last thing I want. “What if my mother sold me for crack? What if she or my dad auctioned me off like an object?” What if Jamie’s search pulled me back into that hell? “No, thank you.”
He heaved a sigh.
I glanced at Nan, who seemed conflicted about a desire to intervene or respect her son’s autonomy. Putting on a smile, I started toward the kitchen. “The dishes won’t do themselves.” Really, Jordy? Super cliché . It was official. I’d read too many cheesy action novels.
I shoved the breakfast pan beneath the water. Hot, sudsy water splashed in my face. Too rough. Dang , I was wrong. I should’ve told Jamie I loved him. He’s my bright side . The only bright side I needed. He had good intentions. But he couldn’t rewrite my past.
As Nan joined me to dry the washed dishes, my jaw unclenched. Soon enough, we developed a rhythm. Outside, the snow stopped falling and the light from the overcast sky poured across the hardwood deck like a quiet warning.
“What is it, lassie?” Nan asked.
“Nothing.” I returned my attention to washing the dishes while staring out the window.
Brody had Jamie in a headlock, speaking animatedly with him and Enzo.
I loved that about my guy. He just rolled his eyes and rolled with it.
Unlike me, he didn’t dwell on anger. He allowed himself to become a prop in his brother’s probably exaggerated story.
“No, Jordy. I’m not talking about your … discussion with Jamie just now.” Mm-hmm , Nan intended to say our argument but was too polite to. “The look on your face just now.”
I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “Well. I just got a bad feeling. Same as I did last night before Rocket attacked me, I felt … a premonition.”
“That’s not a premonition.” As Nan went to her briefcase, I leaned against the sink. “That’s—” Before she could open it, an arm slipped around her neck from behind. A blade sat at her throat.
“If this fat babushka screams, Jordyn,” a man growled, his voice deep, rough, and Russian, “I’ll slit her throat. Now come with me. Quietly.”
Nan’s eyes locked onto mine with a look that could only come from a momma protecting her child.
She mouthed, Run . A second later, she hyperventilated and heaved a breath.
“Ple-please,” she stuttered aloud in a voice full of the fear that rattled around in my chest, except I figured she wanted the masked Russian off his guard.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The plea in her voice was convincing. “H-how di-did you find us?”
“Eh … some racist hacker. We pay him.”
Satisfied with his answer, the mask of fear melted from her face, replaced with something cold. Calculating. Her head snapped back. She narrowly missed the man’s nose but didn’t flinch.
Briefcase in hand, she brought it down toward his knee.
The man jumped back, and the bone-cracking force only hit with mild impact. He arched the knife in front of him.
The kitchen window exploded from behind me.
Glass shattered in a hailstorm of shards, one slicing against the back of my shoulder.
I screamed as a bullet, clearly intended for Nan, shattered wooden splinters from the cabinet to her left.
She dropped. I hit the ground too. Hard. Where was my beautiful protector?
No . I couldn’t depend on Jamie to defend me every second of my life.
A weapon.
I needed a weapon.