Club Scars (24 page)

Kat laughed through the tears and kissed him for all she was worth. “I love you,” she mumbled breathlessly.

Crux pressed his forehead to hers again.

“I love you more than anything, woman. Don’t forget that.”

Singing along to the gravely blues on the radio, Kat grabbed a bowl and grooved across the kitchen to retrieve potatoes from the bin in the utility room. The noon feeding still had Cam content, perched in his seat on the table, so it was the perfect time to get dinner prep out of the way. She couldn’t resist playing with his toes on the way past. It had been a great day, started by an early morning romp with her horny hubby. Kat grinned. It felt so good to be back in their home and for things to be returning to some semblance of normal.

The doorbell chimed through the house as she scrubbed the spuds. Shutting off the water, Kat shook her hands over the sink and looked around for a towel. The buzzer rang again. She paused in the archway, and glanced uncertainly toward Cam. Wiping her hands on her thighs, she walked over to peek through the peep-hole. She caught her breath and nearly squealed when she saw the floral delivery guy. She could count on one hand the number of times Crux had sent her flowers. A smug grin curved her lips. The morning romp must have rocked his world, too.

She yanked open the door, her eyes locking on the gorgeous arrangement of lilies and pussy willows.

“Hey, Kat.”

Ripping her gaze from the flowers, she turned her grin on the delivery boy. “Hi. Scott. How’ve you been?”

Joy flooded the young man’s face at her simple acknowledgement. She felt for the kid and he was a real sweetheart. A high-speed meeting with a tree had destroyed a promising football career and left him to deal with mental and emotional issues for the rest of his life.

“Real good. How’s your little boy doing?”

“He’s great. Growing like a weed,” Kat said, glancing back over her shoulder and craning her neck in an effort to see into the kitchen.

“All the other flowers and balloons I delivered to the hospital just said Kat. I didn’t know Katrina was your real name.”

Cold fear splashed in her gut. Crux
never
called her Katrina. None of her friends did either. No one did except—Stumbling, Kat backed away from the door before spinning and running to the kitchen. Cam’s blue-green eyes widened at the jostle as she turned his carrier. She plucked him from the snug confines and cuddled him close, shooting a quick look at the back door.  

“Did you leave something on the stove?”

Her heart pounded as she spun again to face Scott. The
sweet young man
now loomed threatening in the archway. Sweet Jesus, had he always been that big?

“I—I thought the heat was up too high,” she stuttered, waving a hand toward the large frying pan.

“You can’t be too careful. My mom says that you can’t turn your back on babies for a second.”

Kat’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at his words and she backpedaled, putting the sturdy kitchen island between them.

He stepped into the kitchen and she inched closer to the knife block. Setting the vase down on the table Scott turned back toward her.

“I like his sweatshirt. I like Harleys. Sometimes I go down to Hotrods and Handlebars just to look at the bikes in the showroom. Bowie doesn’t mind.”

He stepped closer, his big hands resting on the island top. Kat tugged the back of Cam’s Harley Davidson sweatshirt down as she shifted him more around the side of her body, ready to shield him. His eyes flickered to the stove again.

“You’re making dinner. Will Crux be home soon?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Crux should be home any time.”

He looked at his watch and her heart sank. She licked her lips. He had to know that she was lying.

“I wish I could stay and see him,” he said uncertainly and looked at the clock on the wall. “But Mom said to come right back because we might have another delivery and she has Devon there today.”

Kat nodded, the first niggling of relief coming over her. “I’m sure she appreciates your help with the shop and with your nephew. Thank you for delivering them and please tell your mom that she did a beautiful job on the arrangement.”

He smiled again. “I will. That will make her happy.” He looked at the back door and the hair on Kat’s nape stood up. She squinted. Was the deadbolt still locked?

“Should I go out the front door?”  

“The front door is closer to the driveway for you,” Kat said, forcing a tight smile and a nod as she followed him into the living room at a cautious distance.

Scott looked back, one hand on the doorknob. She swallowed hard.

“Tell Crux I said hi.”

“I will.”

She held her breath until she heard the wrought iron storm door latch. Her hands were shaking as she retrieved the .38 from the drawer. She finally allowed herself to exhale. As fucked up as she was at the moment she was as likely to shoot herself as anyone else. Awkwardly hitching Cam higher on her shoulder, she hurried to the front door and twisted the lock. Throwing the deadbolt and chain for good measure, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves and headed for the kitchen. Her gaze darted to every corner as she worked her way to the back door. Her shoulders slumped when she realized the heavy deadbolt was still in place. She nearly slid to the floor.

Her legs suddenly numb with relief, Kat stumbled back to the kitchen. Securing the safety, she put the revolver down carefully and gave Cam a squeeze before easing him back into his seat. The chair squealed discordantly as she hooked it with her ankle and pulled it out to flop down. She stared at the swirls of color in the glass vase. How could something so beautiful now feel evil? She was afraid to even touch it.
Katrina
. It could only be one of two people. Either it was another attempt to reach out by her father, or things had just taken a turn for the worse and her uncle was joining the game.

A shudder wracked her body at the thought. She closed her eyes and traced the outline of her phone through the pocket of her fleece pajamas. She had never called Crux home from work. In fact, she’d ridiculed those spineless bitches that called their old man with every little problem. From busted water pipes to a dryer fire, she’d handled it, but she needed him so badly right now.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she viciously bit the inside of her lip. She was stronger than this. Opening her eyes she met Cam’s inquisitive stare. She smiled and moved him closer. Rubbing the arch of his tiny feet with her thumbs, she watched his face for little ticks of expression. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

“You must think your mommy is a real whack job, huh?” she whispered.

Cam blew a spittle bubble and kicked his feet. Kat smiled and leaned down to kiss his toes.

“Who says you don’t understand what I’m saying? That was a raspberry if I ever saw one. Way to tell your mommy to suck it up. You have your parent’s attitude already. Watch out world.”

Taking a deep breath she stood up and moved around the end of the table. She wet her lips as she pulled the card free from the tissue paper wrapping. On a whim she tore the rest of the paper away, giving herself a clear view of the stunning bouquet before words and reality made it ugly. Her hands shook as she slid a nail under the envelope flap. A blue elephant trumpeted the arrival of a baby boy in the top left corner of the card. Pinching it between her fingertips she freed it from the sheath and stared at the words. Her knees buckled and the vase shattered on the floor.  

Seventeen

Water seeped through the knees of Kat’s pajamas. Cam’s cry echoed through the kitchen. Staring blankly at the kaleidoscope of broken glass she knew she needed to get up, but her muscles refused to cooperate. She’d tried to catch herself when her knees had given out and nearly flipped the table. Thank God she’d managed to keep Cam from falling. Her hands shook violently as she gingerly picked the small rectangle from the shards. The water was starting to blur the ink on the soggy card but the message was still clear.
Now you know the love and joy that only a mother can feel. You never stopped being my baby. Wishing you blessed peace and happiness, my precious darling. ~ Love ~ KM
 

It wasn’t possible. She closed her eyes against the pen strokes. The gushing endearment and flourished dashes were unmistakable. How many notes had her mother left her in twelve years, all signed the same? She shook her head desperately. The son-of-a-bitch was trying to push her over the edge. Her mother was dead. Chills wracked her body. The damn words taunted her, scrolling across the inside of her clenched eye lids like a theater marquee. Her teeth chattered as she fought to keep it together. It’d been twenty-two years. She was dead.  

Cam’s cries tore at her and Kat rocked desperately on her knees. She knew she needed to get up, needed to comfort Cam, but she was terrified to touch him at the moment. She was holding on by a thread. Her hands clenched in fists, her nails gouging deep into her palms. The shaking and rocking intensified. She was losing it. Her mouth opened in a soundless wail of her own. She couldn’t do this.

She clawed at her pocket, desperate to free her phone from the fabric’s folds. The cell phone clattered to the floor twice before she could get a handle on it. Stabbing blindly at the buttons she prayed.
This wasn’t happening. She couldn’t lose it. What about Cam?

“Please. I need you. I can’t do this alone,” her voice broke on a sob. “I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Kat stared dry-eyed at the back door. The steel easily withstood the barrage of blows being levied against the outside. Rocking Cam’s carrier gently she tried to focus on the voice outside but the card’s words sing-songed through her mind on an endless loop.

“Damn it, Kat! I’m going to break a fucking window if you don’t open this door!”

She blinked at the frustration and fear in her friend’s voice. Curling her fingers around the edge of the island-top, she slowly pulled herself up. She winced as a sliver of glass found her bare foot. Hobbling to the door she leaned against it. Her knees were shaking. Turning her head she peeked out the little hole. No one was there. She clung to the door handle, confusion and fear making her hesitate. She’d heard Ginny’s voice. Was she imagining things again?

She flinched as the window shattered, glass spraying over the top of the washer and dryer. She stumbled back and fell on her ass. Rolling to her knees she scrambled up the one step to the kitchen. Her knees slid as they tried to find traction on the polished wood. Palms and knees burned as shards of glass sliced into her skin. Curling around the carrier she breathed in Cam’s scent, rocking them both. Ginny appeared in the window. She tossed a jacket over the window frame and climbed through the opening. Glass tinkled to the floor as she scooted awkwardly over the top of the washing machine.

Brushing glass off her hands and clothing she stepped up into the kitchen. Her hazel eyes were wide as they swept the room. She picked her way around the scattered lilies and glass, squatting down beside her and Cam.

“Are you all right?” she asked, hands fluttering between pushing her hair back and the wounds on her hands.

Kat forced a nod. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Confusion lined Ginny’s face as she looked around. She picked up the .38 from the floor.

“Is anyone else here?”  

At the negative shake of her head, she watched her friend’s worry increase. Frowning, Ginny wet her lips and stood up. Taking her elbow she urged her to stand up.

“Everything’s going to be okay, little sister. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Her knees still shaking Kat wobbled on her feet. She was relieved when Gin directed her into a kitchen chair. Ginny set Cam’s carrier up on the island and carefully looked the infant over.

“Shhh, buddy. Everything is going to be okay,” she whispered, soothing his whimpers. “Is this blood all yours?” she asked, turning to look back at her and gesturing at the crimson that smeared the carrier’s molded plastic.

“Yes. Cam’s okay,” Kat whispered, her voice sounding strange to her ears.  

Ginny nodded and raking a hand through her hair, skirted around the island opening drawers until she found what she was looking for. Wetting a wash cloth Gin came back around and tenderly took her hands to wash them up. Kat watched in silence as her friend carefully picked out a splinter of glass from the wound bleeding the most. Grabbing a paper towel, Ginny wrapped the bleeding finger.