Final Mend (27 page)

“Good,” Jake managed. Rage bubbled within him when Lillian didn't comment on Amy's hair. She and Winona had meticulously curled it this morning.

Amy tossed her head to and fro as if waiting on a comment from her mother. Finally, she tugged on her shirt hem. “Did you see my hair?”

Lillian glanced at her and touched Amy's curls. “Oh, baby, that's darling.”

“Winona helped me curl it this morning.”

Lillian tossed a glare at Winona and dropped her hand from Amy's hair. “Well, the hairspray will be a pain to wash out.”

Amy's face fell as they all carried luggage up to the house—all but Lillian, who hadn't bothered to grab a bag. Lillian stopped at the door, stiffened, and turned. Her gaze was fevered, face tight, and her eyes landed everywhere but on him.

“We've got it from here,” she said.

Jake dropped the luggage on the porch. “If you'll open the door, we'll tote the luggage inside,” Jake said with as much civility as he could muster. “No biggie.”

She clutched the handle of the largest suitcase. “No, thanks. Leave it on the porch. We've got it from here. Amy, give your uncle Jake a big hug before he leaves.”

Amy dropped her bag and flew into Jake's arms, hugging him for a long time. He swallowed a sob but soon Amy switched gears and flew into Winona's arms. As she watched her with Winona, Lillian rocked back on her heels, her mouth tightening.

Jake kneeled to the ground. Amy hugged him again. “I'm going to miss you,” he told her, his voice gravely and pitchy.

Amy danced out of his reach, unaffected, and then ran into his arms. “I'll miss you, too. But I'll see you next weekend, won't I?”

His gaze snapped to Lillian.

“Amy,” Lillian said when Amy wouldn't let Jake go. “I have cookies and juice on the counter. Run along. I need to speak with Uncle Jake.”

Amy's eyes didn't brighten at the mention of cookies as they had when she and Winona had baked them. Her shoulders sagged. Lillian tousled Amy's hair and said, “I'll be there in a minute.”

“Okay. Bye, Jake. Winona. See you next week. Love you guys,” she said, all adult-like.

And then she was gone. Lillian closed the door, shutting Jake and Winona outside, and Amy inside. Jake's hands grew sweaty, numb. He clenched them in an attempt to hold himself together.

Lillian wasted no time. “We're moving.”

Cold flushed down Jake's back, filling his chest as white heat flared over his face. “Moving? Where?”

“To Alabama.”

“Alabama.” He spat out the word, unbelieving yet unsurprised at Lillian's continuous selfishness. “What the fuck is in Alabama?”

“I have friends there who gave me a good job, and it's a safe place. I need to keep Amy safe.”

He glanced at Winona, back to Lillian. “You can't take her to Alabama.” His voice faltered between desperation and outrage. He stepped forward, but the heat behind his eyelids kept him grounded. “That's, what, two thousand miles away?”

“We're going. My mind is made up.”

Jake's vision blurred. Pain took root in his gut, sprouting in his chest, rupturing from the top of his head. Ash coated his tongue, burning into embers down his throat and making it impossible to breathe. He wanted to kill her. It'd be easy right now. Kill her and take Amy somewhere safe.

“You can't … you can't …”

Winona placed her hand on his shoulder, but it felt like a cold corpse touching him. He didn't want her calm, didn't want her comfort. He shook her off.

“I'm filing for custody,” Jake said.

Lillian laughed, the witchy shrill splicing deep into his wounds. “You go ahead and do that.”

• • •

A deep emptiness settled in the pit of Jake's stomach, nesting in his mind like a dark hangover. Sapping his energy, his strength, his resolve to fight. As the house grew distant in the rearview mirror, his desperation decayed any rational thought.

He fought the urge to turn around and go to her. A little girl whose life was orchestrated by the adults around him. Lillian would only call the cops and drama would ensue. He didn't want to be one of those adults who scarred her.

He could kidnap her. Run away somewhere no one would ever find them. But what kind of life would that be for her? She had to go to school and live a normal life, or as normal as she could. He wasn't some sick twisted freak, and that was what everyone would think. Maybe even her, if they brainwashed her to think so.

He eased onto the freeway, his truck joining the fray of vehicles. Conforming to a world that wasn't meant to win, only survive. He didn't want to survive. He'd survived the twisted cavities of hell and was so tired of the struggle.

He belted his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

This feeling like the claws of darkness gripped him, overtook him before each downward spiral to addiction. But it'd been eight long years since he'd succumbed. Eight years of resisting that need, that longing, that enslavement unlike anything he would ever experience again.

But now the only thing that would ease this desperation was to surrender.

He passed the bright lights of promise and nearly exited the freeway to pull into a bar when Winona's palm settled on his lap. “I'm sorry, Jake.”

Her words flashed across his mind, helping him to see reason. He couldn't help Amy if he was passed out in the slimes of hell. He had to stay sober.

He took a deep breath and kept driving. The city eventually gave way to country. Buildings turned to trees. The valley stretched beyond the road, representing the dips of his heart. The sun sank lower in the sky, skipping across the road in sporadic patterns.

“Dammit,” he said.

“You can still travel to see Amy. It's not like she's moving to a foreign country.”

“Lillian is taking her away from family who loves her and taking her away from everything she knows. The only reason she let me see Amy this last time was because of Garret. Lillian set her sights on him and thought he was interested. Then she found out he was married. Hell, she told him he wasn't welcome back at her house when he came with me to pick up Amy. Can you imagine what she'd do if she knew he was an ex-fed?”

“Lillian isn't going to hide her away from her family. She promised to let you see her once they get settled. People learn to adjust. Amy will adjust. You'll adjust.”

“I won't fucking adjust until she's back where she needs to be.”

“And where is that, Jake? With her father? He's dead.”

Jake gripped the steering wheel as fury choked him. His vision grew hazy, and his breath felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He cut across the yellow line, onto the other line of traffic, and jerked the wheel back into his lane.

“Pull over,” Winona demanded.

“No.”

“Pull the fuck over, Jake. I'm not going to ride with you when you're this upset.”

“So, what, you're going to drive? Maybe I don't want to ride with you when you're this angry.”

“I'm not angry. I should never have let you behind the wheel after Lillian told you they were moving. It's upset you. I understand that. You need to cool off and let me drive.”

Jake clamped his fingers around the wheel. He clenched his teeth and saw nothing but bright stars around him, heard nothing but the gushing of air channeling through his ears. He slowed and pulled over, jamming the truck in park before slumping over and crying like a little baby.

Winona was at his side in an instant, her hands on his back, soothing him with whisper-soft words. He didn't know what she said, but her voice burrowed deep into his heart.

• • •

Jake's body heaved with his cries, and Winona soothed him the best way she knew how. With her touch, her voice, her comfort. The two-lane road wasn't busy, but she clicked on the hazard lights just in case. The earth glowed as the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

Watching him with Amy had made her heart soar. They loved each other. Amy had already lost so much. Now she would lose Jake. A man who would be a huge influence on her.

Would she think Jake had abandoned her?

Winona understood loss and didn't want Amy to suffer any more than she would suffer. Amy had such energy and passion for life. It was obvious she had been loved and doted on, but didn't act spoiled or rotten. Lillian was her mother. It was her decision on what was best for her child.

Winona knew she was being harsh to Jake, belting out reminders of Brandon's death, but she only wanted to wake him up. Jake thought Amy would be safer with him than with her own mother and although Jake was good with her, she knew from experience that a child needed her mother above all else.

She'd never want to take a child away from her mother unless she knew for absolute certain that Lillian was a bad person. And Lillian might be selfish and difficult to understand, but Winona hadn't seen a hint of abuse or neglect or any wrongdoing. Winona had spent years longing for her mother and couldn't participate in taking a child away from theirs.

She wondered if Jake's mania was one of selfishness. He'd overcome so many pains in his life; maybe attaching himself to Amy made him feel strong. Maybe he saw her as a means to stay sober and without her he felt he had no reason. Winona tried to remain rational, but she couldn't help but wonder.

Jake's cries eased and he lifted his head to look at her. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry.”

Jake rested his forehead on hers, his nose inches away, his warm breath brushing her cheek.

“Let's find a hotel for the night,” Winona suggested, excluding any hints of sexuality. “I think we could both use some sleep.”

“Sounds good.” Jake opened his door and slid out, walking toward the other side so Winona could drive. She moved to the driver's side and searched the GPS for the nearest hotel.

Night rolled in by the time she drove into the parking lot of a motel and parked at the lobby entrance. Outdoor lights split the darkness as moths fanned the shadows.

Jake remained quiet, grieving, except to insist he pay. She took his money and left him in the truck while she registered. There were only three rooms, all with king beds, so she didn't falter. They'd been sleeping together anyway, so why worry about having to now?

He let her shower first. Alone. She slipped into bed and listened to the water skipping across his skin and onto the tile, remembering another night when she'd laid in his arms in a bed much like this one, only smaller, and watched a zombie movie. Laughing. Feeling carefree.

Before Lillian's news.

He lifted the covers and lay beside her, sending a light breeze across her skin, then warmth when he enveloped her and pulled her next to him.

He made love to her. No, it wasn't making love. It was sex. His movements were different. Or maybe she was different. Standoffish. Unsure about the future and uncertain about his feelings for her. His movements were stilted and he didn't touch her like usual. He wasn't making love to her because he wanted her, needed her. He was having sex to fill a void only sex could fill.

She lay awake for a long time afterwards, listening to him snore.

• • •

“I'm turning around and going back to Amy.” Jake stood with his stance widened and feet planted firmly on the ground, his hands on his hips, and his face contorted into a scowl. He jerked open one hand, palm up. Waiting. His body tense. “Give me my keys.”

“No,” Winona said. “Get in the truck.”

Tendrils of morning emerged in a sigh. Birds chortled. Wisps of sunlight stretched through a soggy fog, the dampness ratcheting up the humidity. A breeze scuffled through the trees in an effort to lighten the mugginess, but it did nothing to lighten the heavy weight in her heart.

They stood toe-to-toe outside, their bags loaded and ready to go. Their voices carried, and Winona tried to keep quiet so as not to wake anyone sleeping in the nearby rooms.

She opened the driver's door and slid in, slamming it shut. Jake didn't move. She closed her eyes, praying for strength. Waiting, praying she wasn't about to see an aggressive side of him she didn't know about. She didn't want to argue with him, not over this. There was no way either of them could win.

He opened her door and stood, glaring. “It's my truck. Give. Me. My. Keys.” His voice flattened to a level that would have most people crawling out of their skin.

Not Winona. She didn't flinch. If he pulled her out of the truck, she'd keep fighting. “No. I'm. Going. Home.” She forced a power she didn't feel into her voice, mimicking his. She started the engine and looked at him, weakness assailing her. Who knew what the right thing to do was? And what were their options? Go to Lillian and help her pack? Spend more time with Amy before she moved? Do something illegal? “If you see the need to go after Lillian and change things, you can do it later. On your own time.”

“My own time may be too late for Amy.”

“Give me a break, Jake. I've seen no clues that she's in any kind of danger. It looks to me like her mother just wants to protect her.”

“Hah!” Jake's face tightened, his neck corded, and his shoulders bunched forward as he stiffened against the open truck door.

“You have many options. If you think she's a terrible mother and you have any kind of proof, which I haven't seen yet, call CPS. That'll open an investigation.”

“You should know how that'll turn out.”

“You said you thought Lillian had Brandon killed for money. So give her money. Offer to adopt Amy and pay her off.”

“That's a bit extreme.”

“So is kidnapping Amy,” Winona said, suspecting his intentions and wanting to do everything she could to prevent it. Right now, the only thing she could do was go home. “You'd have to take away Amy's identity.”

“Not completely.”