Pretty Nightmare (Creeping Beautiful Book 2), page 8
She sighs. “I think we have a problem.”
“Explain.”
“OK.” She’s a little bit breathless. “We found a girl.”
“Hmm. Where?”
“Well, we didn’t find her. We saw her. And we don’t have her.”
“Where?” I repeat.
“Savannah.”
“Hmm.”
“I know.”
“Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”
“Boone was on that job we talked about yesterday. And he was just finishing up when someone hit him on the head.”
“Killed him?”
“No,” she snaps at me. “Obviously he came back and told me this story.”
“Don’t get short with me.”
“Sorry.”
She doesn’t sound sorry. “So how’s the girl fit in? If he’s not dead, he wasn’t her hit.”
“He was just coming back around when he heard voices. The little girl’s and another one too. A man. And he said he couldn’t place it, but it was very familiar.”
“But what did they want? Boone was just sent to kill someone. He wasn’t carrying any secrets.”
“They stole the body.”
“What?” I kinda laugh about this.
“Yeah, it makes no sense. But Boone swears up and down that this was one of our girls—”
I want to object here. I want to say she could just be any little girl. But very few men take little girls on a hit job. So I just shut up and let her finish.
“—and he recognized the voice of the man. Just couldn’t place him. He moaned and they hit him again. He passed out again. And then he woke up and everything was cleaned up. The whole room was spotless. No sign of blood, and he checked with the UV light and everything. No sign of anything. Even the carpet under his blood-caked head was clean. Like they picked him up, scrubbed that spot, and set him back down.”
I sigh.
“Sorry,” she says. “But you need to know. Someone is cutting in on us, Adam. And they’re not being shy about it. This is the third time.”
“I know.”
“Well, we need to do something about this.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You need to work faster.”
“Wendy—”
“Fuck you. Do not tell me anything, Adam Boucher. I’m not your employee. I serve you at my pleasure. And I do that because we’re on the winning side. But if some asshole is gonna move in and take that win away, I’m out. You hear me? Out!”
“I said I’m working on it.”
She huffs on the other end of the line. “He left a note.”
“Way to bury the lede.”
“Do you want to hear it or not?”
“That’s why I picked up the phone.”
“OK.” She sighs again. “I don’t know what it means, though. It’s like… a code or something.”
“Will you just read the fucking note to me?”
“It says, ‘They pack them in with no regard. They leave no marks and sing no songs. They cover them up and walk away. They did this to you. They did this to me. It ends. It begins. It ends again.’”
It’s a goddamned circle.
“What the fuck does that mean, Adam?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, who can we ask?”
“I’ll get back to you.”
I end the call, turn around, and find McKay standing not ten feet away.
His eyes are locked with mine. But then they drift down to the phone in my hand and linger there for a long moment before rising back up to meet my gaze once again.
And he says, “I really need to talk to you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN - McKAY
Adam looks over my shoulder in the direction of the pavilion. “Where’s Maggie?”
“Indie came and took her on a walk.”
He furrows his brow.
“What?”
Adam sighs, then looks down at his phone, still in his hand, and shoves it in his pocket. “Should they be walking alone?”
“They’re just in the garden.” I nod my head in that direction. “Look. Right there.”
He looks over where Maggie and Indie are walking in the direction of the playset I built after Maggie was born. I admit, I spent a lot of time hurting over the idea that Maggie would not ever get to fully enjoy it.
But she loves that thing now. She plays in it all the time. And she and Indie like to swing together. They have little contests over who can swing higher. And even though it scares me a little to see Maggie flying like that, I like the way they laugh when they’re just being kids together.
It’s not fair. What Adam did to Indie. She was a good mother, she was just… too young. And troubled.
But we did that to her. When Indie came to live with us Adam and I made a deal that we would protect her first. Above all else. Above ourselves.
I wasn’t going to help him unless he promised me we would help her too. And I fully understand that I am a piece of shit for ever agreeing to that deal in the first place. But if we didn’t buy her, then someone far, far worse would’ve.
But Adam… he broke his promise when he took Maggie away.
I get why he did it. I might’ve done the same thing. And I have done some very questionable things over the years and that’s why I need to set things right with Adam now.
But still. It’s not fair.
Even though six is still young, and Indie will get her chance with Maggie, she missed things. Things she will never get back. And that’s not right.
“Listen.” Adam sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s a nervous habit we both have, learned from each other at a very young age. “I don’t care if you have a thing with Donovan, OK? I’m fine with it.”
“What?” I actually laugh. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I saw you.”
“OK.”
“You were kissing him.”
“And?”
“So I thought you didn’t swing that way?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I do not ever recall saying those words.”
“You didn’t have to. I came to you. That one day—”
“What one day?”
He points at me. “Fuck you, McKay.” Then he turns and starts walking off towards the lake.
I stand there for a minute, watching to see what he does. We’re both barefoot and shirtless. It’s nearly a hundred degrees out today and not a single cloud in the sky. He’s only wearing a pair of cut-off sweats that hang low on his hips and I’ve got on a pair of cargo shorts stained with the memory of days spent in my workshop.
He stops in front of the skinny gray dock that leads to a section of the lake that is mostly a sparse patch of weedy reeds instead of a proper fishing hole. He looks down the length of it. It’s far too skinny for its length. And the only personal memory I have about this dock is the way it sways under my feet as I walk out over the water.
If the water around it was less reedy, we’d have used the dock to set the candle boats afloat on Indie’s birthdays. But it’s not a good place to launch candle boats. It’s not really a good place for anything, actually. Except taking a seat at the end, slipping your feet into the water, and thinking.
And that’s exactly what he does now.
For a moment I get lost in time. And that Adam out there is young. We didn’t come out here much after I came to live with him. Old Home was a falling-down wreck and Adam’s father always did prefer the house in New Orleans.
But a few times we did. And the end of this dock was always his thinking spot.
Adam and Indie have a lot in common. They were both very troubled kids. He doesn’t ever talk about it, but I was there, so he doesn’t need to.
I sigh. This wasn’t the conversation I wanted to have with him but I guess it’s the one we’re having anyway. So I walk down the dock and smile as the gray boards sway under my feet—even more so than in my memory, because I am like seventy pounds heavier these days than I was back then—and I take a seat at the end.
There is not enough room for both of us. Two kids, fine. But even then, we barely fit.
And two grown men? I laugh as I bump him over and he has to scoot to make room with one leg practically hanging off the edge. But it’s a fair move. Because I’m half hanging off the edge too.
“Forget I said anything.” Adam sighs.
“No.” I shake my head. “No, Adam, I’m not gonna forget you said anything. I knew what you were talking about when you said ‘that one day’. I was fishing down by the river and you came up and asked if I had ever wondered what it would be like to just give in.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Close enough.”
He turns his head to look at me, his blue eyes catching the sun. His skin is already golden brown from being outside and his hair is lighter than it typically is in the winter.
He reminds me so much of that kid I once knew, even though he hasn’t been that kid for decades.
“I said,” he says, “we could just all be together.”
We’re very close. Just inches apart. All squished together on the end of this dock. “We are together, Adam.”
“Don’t play with me, McKay. You know what I mean.”
“Dude, I love you. You know that.”
He huffs and stares off across the lake. “Listen, if you’re just gonna let me down easy, go the fuck away.” He turns to meet my gaze again. “OK? Just go the fuck away.”
“You just took me by surprise, that’s all. And back then, the answer was definitely no.”
His eyes are locked on mine. “Back then?”
I take a deep breath. Because I only get to have this conversation once. “I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about what you did to Indie when you took Maggie away.”
“I was just trying to protect everyone.”
“Really, Adam? You’re really gonna stick with that?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Whatever. Just… don’t fucking talk. Just let me say what I have to say.”
“Hold up.” He leans back a little so he can grip my shoulder.
“What?” I shrug his hand off and nearly lose my balance on the edge of the dock.
“If you’re just gonna tell me the same shit today as you did all those years ago, then I don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t get to cheat, Adam.”
“What? How am I cheating?”
“You don’t get a spoiler before the conversation starts. That’s not how this works. You have to listen from beginning to end, just like everyone else. You don’t get the answer before the question. You don’t get to protect your heart like that. You don’t get to cut me off and walk away before I get to say my piece.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It is what you meant.”
He throws up his hands. “Talk then. I’m listening.”
I pause, gathering up my thoughts and dialing down my annoyance with him. “Four. Fucking. Years.”
He lets out a long breath.
“You were gone four fucking years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just shut up and listen to me. I have spent nearly every day with you since I was nine years old. There were times when we were apart. Few days, maybe a week every now and then. But years, Adam?” I shake my head. “Years? No. We don’t just up and disappear on each other for years.” He turns his head to face me, his mouth opening, but I cut him off. “Don’t you dare say sorry.”
“Then what am I supposed to fucking say? Huh? What is it you need to hear, McKay?”
“I don’t need to hear anything. I’m the one talking. You’re the one listening. Why is this so fucking hard for you?”
“Should I answer? Or should I shut the fuck up?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Fine.” He looks the other direction. Over to the bare spot of earth where Nathan St. James used to have a cottage. “I’m shutting up now.”
“You know what I think is funny?” He doesn’t answer. He knows better now. “I think it’s funny that you are this man to everyone else but me.”
He huffs. “I have no clue what that means.”
“No. You wouldn’t. Because you can’t see yourself the way I see you.”
“Is this the part where you tell me I’m a horrible human being?”
“No. This is the part where I tell you…” He turns to look at me. “That you’re the kindest person I know.”
“Lies,” he whispers, his eyes darting back and forth as they search mine. “You’re just lying now. Just winding me up. Making me feel better because you’re gonna tell me something awful next.”
“Why would I tell you something awful? I don’t need to tell you awful things. You are fully and acutely aware of more awful things than I could ever imagine. You do very bad things for all the right reasons, Adam.”
“Oh, God.”
“And I mean that.”
“Yeah. I get it. You’re fucking pissed off at me for taking Maggie away. For not calling you and telling you the truth. For all those years I stole.”
“No. You really don’t get it. Because yeah, that was a shitty fucking choice. Really. Fucking. Shitty choice. But that’s not why I was mad at you. I was mad because you left me behind. You fucking dick. You left me behind and then I had to face the facts that I missed you. And I made a mistake when you came to talk to me on the beach that day when I was fishing. I made a mistake and I should’ve said yes. Because even though I wasn’t sure back then, I was very sure while you were missing that I would rather take a chance on something I didn’t really understand with you than be left alone at the end.”
He doesn’t want to smile. But he can’t help it. So he looks down at the water to hide it.
“You fucking dick.”
He laughs.
“It’s not funny. I’m not gay for you.”
He laughs louder.
“I just fucking love you, dude. And that kiss with Donovan last night? It was practice. So that when I kissed you, it wouldn’t be awkward.”
He’s speechless now. But he raises his head up and looks at me. And in this moment, he is that Adam. That sad, sad boy who would sit out on this dock all alone and wonder why things had to be this way. Why he was in the middle of it all. Why he was born into this family. This Company. With these people who say they love him, but don’t really love him. With these expectations that he be everything he hates about them. And even now, after fighting all these years to not be all the things he hates, he can’t escape the story they put him in. He’s a kid caught in a cycle. He’s a foregone conclusion.
He is Adam Boucher and nothing can change that.
“I have always felt sad for you, Adam.”
Any happiness he had at my confession falters now. “Why? I have everything. Why would anyone be sad for me?”
“When we first met up at my father’s house in Alaska, I saw it immediately.”
“You saw what, McKay?”
“You.” I shrug with my hands. “I saw you. And it made me so fucking sad that I left my whole family just to make you smile.”
“Jesus Christ.” He takes in a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It’s not supposed to. It’s not about you, Adam. It’s about me. I don’t care who your father was or what he thought he was entitled to, the only reason I came home with you was because I chose to. And you can believe that or not. You can tell yourself your father made me. Bought me. That my father sold me. And that’s fine. Because that’s not false. It’s all true. But I chose you. And even if I’m the only one who ever believes that, it’s still true too. You can’t take it away. I chose you.”
He’s rolling his eyes and shaking his head. And I swear to God, I have not seen him so confused since he was a boy. “So how’s this end? Is it over yet?”
“Why are you so anxious to get to the end? Why can’t you just enjoy the journey?”
“Because I’m fucking lost here, McKay. You…” He sighs. “You… are so goddamn sure of yourself. You don’t go to church, but you have all these ethics. You train little girls to kill, and yet you have this very elaborate bullshit fucking moral code.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“It is bullshit! You don’t get to train little killers and hold your head up high!”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how it’s done!”
“If I say that’s how it’s done, Adam, then that’s how it’s fucking done.”
He throws up his hands. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about now.”
“We’re talking about us, of course.”
He laughs. “We’re talking about everything but us, McKay.”
I reach for him. Place my hand on the back of his neck.
He startles for a moment, then relaxes and looks me in the eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna kiss you now. Because I love you and I practiced for this last night and I’m feeling pretty good about it. And I want you to be happy. I think you deserve it. But aside from that, I’m gonna do it because I need it. I need you to know that it’s me and you, dude. Forever. No matter what else happens, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna leave you behind because I find a shiny new something.”
He frowns. Deeply. “McKay—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry, Adam. Don’t you fucking dare. I don’t need the words. I need the actions.”
He looks at me. Straight in the eyes. And maybe, for the first time, he sees me.
And then it’s him leaning forward. Not me.
It’s his mouth on mine. Not mine on his.
It’s his choice this time. Not his father’s.
His kiss is harder than Donovan’s was. But Adam has always been harder than Donovan.
And it’s better. Because Donovan’s kiss was just a kiss.
And this is everything but a kiss.
His fingers thread into my hair and he grabs a fistful, holding me next to him, and his tongue is pushing inside my mouth.
And the most surprising thing about kissing a man is… it’s not that different.
But then again, everything about kissing Adam is different.
