Chapter 11 Nick
Nick
Mom has never been one to mince words. Even though she generally takes a kinder, gentler approach, she still has no filter.
She’s exactly who I get it from. My father, he was more of a laid-back, simple kind of man.
No matter if it was blistering hot or there was ice on the ground, he worked this farm day in and day out until the day he died.
Losing him almost killed my mother. Her mind started to decline shortly after.
“No, Mom, this isn’t my girlfriend. This is Maya and she’s going to be staying on the farm for a while.” I keep my hand on the girl; she’s stiff as a board like her fight or flight might send her running for the hills if I let go.
She couldn’t outrun me in her malnourished state. I wonder if she would try to put up a fight when I caught her? Or if she’s ever been in a fight. She is going to have to learn self-defense. I mentally add that to my ever-growing task list for her.
“Well thank goodness for that. No offense to you, my dear,” she turns to Maya, “but this knucklehead is the moodiest thing I’ve ever met. You’d do best to save yourself any ounce of sanity you have and stay away from him.”
The girl relaxes, a stark contrast to my rising annoyance.
“Is everyone in the business of insulting me today? Ethan already called me a dick this morning.” I should’ve known introducing a woman to my mama would go this way, even if the relationship is strictly business.
I’m not looking, but even if I was, I have yet to find a girl that’s good enough to bring home to her.
The reason I’m letting the petrified woman beside me meet the single most important person in my world is that I want her to trust me.
I’ve seen the fear in her eyes when she looks at me. Maybe she will see me as person and not a monster if she sees the humane side of me before we dig into the darker depths.
“If the shoe fits my dear…” She turns to the girl, gives her a wink then smirks back at me, softly giggling to herself—annoyance gone. It’s good to see her like this, even if she’s laughing at my expense.
I’m thankful to be here on one of her good days. I can’t stand to see her on the bad days when she struggles to care for herself or remember what day it is.
Her condition is not improving and despite my best efforts she won’t come live with me at the beach house. This is her home and she wants to spend the rest of her days here.
Which is understandable. I’ll just have to make more time to visit.
“We better let you get your rest, I’ll be back later. I love you, Mama.” I lean over and plant a kiss on her forehead.
Her soft hand reaches for mine, her grip firm but shaky. “I love you too, son. It was nice to meet you, Maya, please come back and visit me soon.” She gives her a wave.
The girl walks back to the kitchen faster than she did coming in here. No doubt eager to get away from me. She might be smarter than I give her credit for.
Ethan has two big plates of chicken and waffles ready in the outdoor dining area.
I take the seat closest to the girl. She looks uncomfortable with my close proximity.
Good. I might’ve given her more space if she hadn’t tried to run off after meeting my mom, but here we are.
She has to learn to face her fears—starting with me.
“So what do you like most about the farm?” I turn to look at her, taking note of her sticking the fork in her chicken and pushing it around the plate instead of eating it.
I frown at this but choose not to bring it to attention. I’m going to try and soften her up a little so she will come out of her shell.
“I love being around all the animals, I’ve never been on a farm before. Not like this.” Her voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper.
The only thing Whiskey Rivers has is methamphetamine farmers and tweaker animals. There are a few decent people who live there, but not many. There is hope to make this girl a productive citizen.
“I suggest you eat your food if you want to keep working around the animals. You’re going to need the energy. By the way, speak up when you’re talking to me.” She looks up, her brown eyes meeting mine. They’re kind of pretty.
“Yessir,” she says in a semi-solid tone.
“What happened to the ‘I’m not Cinderella and this is not my castle’ girl? Let me talk to her. You’re going to have to be tough if you’re going to make it around here, cupcake.” I take a bite of the spicy chicken and waffle with the sweet syrup. It’s mouthwatering; Ethan did a good job.
“You didn’t exactly allow me any options to leave, did you? What do you want me to say? Should I bow down to you and thank you for saving the life I didn’t want? Just tell me what you want from me,” she snaps, but with a slight tremble in her voice. She’s trying.
“That’s a good girl.” I give her a wink and wicked grin.
She stares at me with a shocked expression and something besides fear flashes in her eyes.
Oh. She likes being called a good girl. This causes me to grin harder.
“You’re one of us now. You’ll stay here for a few weeks until the job is ready and then you’ll come back to the beach house.
” I pour her and me a cup of orange juice.
Ethan sits on the other side of the table devouring everything on his plate. He knows this isn’t the time for him to speak up. I’ve trained him to always read the room he’s in and act accordingly.
“I deserve to know what you want me to do.” She sits straighter in her chair, like she’s trying to make herself look intimidating.
She’s demanding—it’s actually kind of cute. Funny, but cute. She should thank me for not only allowing but encouraging her to stand her ground with me. Just a select few get that privilege.
“You’re going undercover for me.” I purposely leave out the part where sending her in is a last resort.
I want her to mentally prepare without a lingering shadow of possibility that she might not actually have to do the job.
“I need some insider information that would be easier obtained by a woman, and as you can see, neither Ethan nor I are female.” Thank fuck for that.
Though I doubt it would be hard to convince his goofy ass to slap on some makeup and dress in drag.
I’ve never been 100% sure on his sexuality, not that it matters to me either way.
I think he just likes having fun and I’ll support him with whomever he romanticizes with.
It’s the way I was raised and I refuse to waiver from that.
“I don’t have any undercover skills.” Her brave tone seems to be faltering.
“You’ll have self-defense lessons and undercover training when you come back to the beach house.” It’s like she gets a few brave lines in and falters.
She acts like she wants to say something else but stops herself. Come on, tell me. Tell me how and why you blew your house up with your dad inside. Was that your self-defense strategy? I need to know your mindset and the level of crazy I’m dealing with.
After a few long moments and intense stares from yours truly, she speaks again.
“Can I please just stay here? I promise I’ll work hard, and you won’t have to worry about me.” Her bottom lip quivers slightly, she looks at me like she did when she told me she deserved to know what I want her to do but then turns her head to stare at her lap and fidget with her fingers.
If I had to bet, I’d bet she’s worried I’m going to put her in harm’s way.
It’ll be dangerous, but she will be completely safe.
I’m not going to volunteer any more information.
If she wants to know something, she is going to have to ask me, and not Ethan.
He can be her friend and confidant but it’s me she needs to be looking to for instruction.
“No. Now eat. You need to put on a few pounds. Believe it or not, you’ll be much harder to recognize when you’re not skin and bones anymore.” I nudge her plate towards her and she shies away.
I’m curious to see what she will look like when she fills out more. She’s on the small side, but she’s not unattractive.
She exhibits classic signs of abuse. She fidgets frequently, her eye contact falters easily, she was startled by my contact. I could see her pulse thrumming in her neck. She wanted to run but didn’t, she’s malnourished, and let’s not forget—suicidal.
Those kind of behaviors just can’t be unlearned overnight.
It’s going to take time and effort. She will start therapy on the farm and stay here for a few months to improve her mental and physical health.
When it’s time, she can come back to the beach house and start the undercover and self-defense training.
I think she will learn how strong she really is.
I might ask Sasha to take her under her wing, but I’ll have to give her strict instructions to only help her build her confidence, not turn her into a slut.
“Are the police still looking for me?” She turns her body slightly towards me.
“Yes, but they won’t be for long. I’ve got it taken care of.” It actually couldn’t have worked out better with the dead hooker he found.
“How?” She looks at me questioningly and bites her lip.
Which causes parts of me to react in a way I don’t want to acknowledge right now.
“Do you always ask so many damn questions?” I try to keep my tone relaxed so I don’t scare her too bad. Is she doing this shit on purpose to avoid eating in front of me?
“This is my life we are talking about. I might work for you now, but I have a right to know in case someone does recognize me.” And…she’s back to deadpanning me. She seems to stand her ground more when talking about herself.
“Nobody will be looking for you because Dr. Bennett and I will stage your death. I’ll fill you in on the details when it’s all worked out.” Maybe. She doesn’t have to know all the details.
“Will you let me go after I do this job for you?” Her whole body tenses with an exceptionally white-knuckled grip on her fork like she wants to stab me.
I stifle a laugh. I wish she would try, I’d love to see some feistiness from her. It would only be fair to let her go after she’s done her part, maybe I should make her fight me for it.
“Yes. It’ll be several weeks before you’re even ready to start training. Once you do go undercover, it might be a long process so don’t be expecting it to be a job that’s finished in the next several months or even a year.”
She takes a deep breath, as if settling some kind of resolve. “I do have one request, if it’s not too much to ask.” There she goes, looking away again.
“What’s that?” Look at me!
She turned back away from me, so I lean in towards her, my elbow brushing hers, savoring the contact with her soft, warm skin. Her breath hitches slightly but she doesn’t pull away and I’m oddly satisfied by this.
“I’ll agree to work with you and when I’m done, I’d like to use my new identity to enroll in school. I’ll find a way to pay you for whatever the identity cost you if you let me use it.” Her voice is low, almost a whisper.
I’m not sure what I was expecting her to say but that wasn’t it.
That’s not an unreasonable request. I’ll get her signed up before the job starts. It would be beneficial to me for her to have an education as it might open more opportunities for her to work for me in the future, if she wishes.
“Fine. I’ll take care of it as long as you stop with the twenty questions and eat your food.”
She takes a deep breath and starts to eat, finally breaking the contact between us.
The rest of our meal is finished in silence. I try to act like I don’t notice the handful of times she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, but I’m sure she knows I have, because I was looking at her too.
She has the potential to be great. Those first few days after I pulled her from the river, I wasn’t sure what to expect. She looked so fragile hooked to that ventilator. I can’t deny the fear in her eyes when she looks at me, but I also can see the sparks trying to catch fire in there.
Her energy shifts when she stands her ground with me. I also sense it when it falters. She might be afraid when I tell her what I have in store for her, but I will make her stronger than she ever thought possible. When she finishes with her training, she will be unstoppable.
I look over at Ethan shoveling his third helping in his mouth.
She never complains, but I’m sure Emma would like to have another woman around the beach house.
She’s asked me about the girl for the last couple days, and I haven’t had much of an answer for her.
She offered to bring her daughter and take over for Ethan here.
Unfortunately, I need him or myself to be the one to get her story from her now that I know at least part of what the girl’s done. The less Emma and her daughter are involved in committing or covering up illegal activities, the better.