Rush (22 page)

“—we’re going to sit down and figure this out.”

“It’s not your problem,” she insisted.

He stood up and set her back down on the bed. Fisting his hands in his hair, he paced away, then back again. He stopped and pointed a finger at her. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Do you hear me?”

“But it’s true.”

“The fuck it is.”

“Lucas, stop. You can’t fix this.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “And you can? How’s your way working so far? Your
fix
almost got you killed.”

Sucking in a breath, she flinched as if he’d hit her. “Screw you.”

He dropped to his knees in front of her, gripping her by the shoulders. “Do you know what seeing her on top of you, her hands wrapped around your throat, did to me? Do you?”

“I don’t care.”

“It fucking scared the shit out of me.” He gave her a little shake. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“Why not? What do you care? What does anybody care? My own mother hates me.”

“Why do I care?”

She tried to break free from his hold. “Just forget it.”

He let her go. “Damn it, Mi. Don’t you get it?”

“I said forget it.”

He brought her face around to his, made her look him in the eye. “I more than care,
Querida
.”

Tears spilled over her cheeks. He kissed them, murmuring to her in Spanish. When he’d kissed them all, he put his forehead to hers, smoothing his thumbs over the last of her tears. “Don’t you get it, you crazy, sexy, infuriating, beautiful woman? I love you.” He laughed as though he’d only just discovered that fact. “I fucking love you. And I don’t care if you don’t love me back right now. We’re going home and we’re going to figure this out. Do you hear me?”

He’d stunned her into silence. She could only stare at him, her jaw slack, her heart beating a rhythm that pounded in her ears. What had she done? She could live the rest of her life without him, alone, loving him so much she ached with it. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that he could love her back.

If it were only her mom she’d been protecting, she wouldn’t bother to do it anymore. Her mother was beyond her help and protection, but there was someone else. Someone who still needed her to keep the secret. Someone who deserved her silence.

So Mi kept quiet when all she wanted to do was scream.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I hope she’ll be okay at Jason’s,” Mi said, casting a wary glance at her mother sitting at the kitchen table, rocking the spare doll Mi had stashed away.

Lucas looked at the older woman and suppressed the urge that rode him hard. He’d never wanted to kill anyone in his life. He’d killed, but he never
wanted
to do it. Never fired his gun, used his hands or wielded a weapon with the burning desire to end a life. His mind kept flashing images at him of Mi helpless and dying, her mother’s hands around her throat, Mi gasping for air, the marks on her neck. And his blood lust simmered.

He got that Mi’s mom was mentally ill and he felt bad about that. But he also wanted to call the men in white coats and have her carted away. Faye obviously needed help, possibly medication, but for whatever reason Mi wouldn’t allow that. She had been right about the doll calming Faye down. But for how long? How long until she went for Mi or someone else again? What if he wasn’t there next time?

“I think she should stay here. She’s stayed here before several times and some of… Ethan’s things are here for her,” Mi said.

As much as he hated Faye Easely for what she’d done to Mi, he couldn’t let her stay in Mi’s house. “It’s not safe here. Gann could come back. What if he used your mother to get to you?”

“Oh, God. I didn’t think of that.”

“Why can’t she go to your brother’s?”

She looked at her mother, biting her lip, and all Lucas could think was: Who the hell is she protecting? Why is she willing to risk their relationship and her
life
to protect them?

“I guess there’s no other choice.” She didn’t meet his gaze, had hardly looked at him at all since he’d blurted out that he
fucking
loved her.

Way to go, Mr. Romance. Just what a woman wants to hear from a guy right after he stuck his tongue down her throat out of misplaced frustration. As a post near-death experience, his ass-hat attempt at romance was nothing short of brilliant. He’d kick his own ass if it was physically possible.
I fucking love you.
Sheer romantic genius, ya idiot.

“But we can’t tell him what happened,” she said.

He was really getting tired of hearing that. “Why the hell not? What if she goes for him or a neighbor?”

“She won’t.”

“How can you be sure? This is a bad idea. I should never have agreed not to call the police.”

“Look at her. As long as she has the doll she’ll be okay.”

“And the fire at her house?”

“She won’t do that again,” she said tightly. “Look, you don’t have to be involved.”

“Too late for that and I told you, I’m all in here so stop offering me a way out. You’re pissing me off.”

“Fine. Then we’ll take her to Jason’s—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his mother tried to kill his sister.”

“Stop it.”

“Just hurry up and get her stuff and let’s get out of here.”

He watched Mi head down the hall, then turned to where her mother sat, singing a lullaby to a fucking doll. Easing down into the seat opposite Faye, Lucas looked at the woman who had given Mi life and who had also nearly taken it away. He wasn’t that big of a hard ass that he didn’t feel sorry for her. He could manage compassion, for fuck’s sake.

It was cruel of Mi and her brother not to get their mother help. He didn’t feel bad for thinking that. It
was
cruel. They’d let her illness have her. Left her trapped in a world where the calm of caring for her dead son’s substitute was punctuated by bouts of paranoia, violence, and pyromania. What kind of life was that? What kind of family were they? What kind of mother had Faye been before her son’s death? Surely it had been her infant son’s death that had triggered all of this. Otherwise, how could caring for the doll calm her so easily?

“You seem like a nice young man,” Faye said, batting her thickly coated eyelashes at him.

He started, not expecting her to speak to him. He’d almost forgotten she was a person.

She sighed. “Miyuki is lovely isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“She takes after her father’s side. He was a wonderful man. I miss him very much.” Tears flooded her eyes and he found himself leaning toward her in sympathy. “Ronin was the love of my life and I hate to say it because a mother shouldn’t say these things about her children—” She covered the doll’s ears. “—but she’s my favorite. Always has been. I loved her father so much.” She swiped at a tear. “I thought I’d die when he did. Do you know what that’s like? Have you ever loved someone that much?”

He nodded. He loved her daughter that much.

“I can see you do. Good, because Miyuki needs that.” She looked down at the bundle in her arms, then back at him. “I know it’s a doll.”

“You do?” His voice cracked under the pressure of an unnamed emotion.

She looked back down at the doll and started rocking and singing again.

“I’m ready,” Mi said from behind him and he automatically reached for his gun, registering at the last moment that she wasn’t a threat.

He popped out of his chair and took the bags from her.

“Let me grab the bassinet. Oh, and I’ll need the car seat from my car,” Mi said, her gaze on her mother.

“Give me your keys and I’ll take care of it. You stay here.” He looked back at Faye over his shoulder.

Mi opened a drawer in the kitchen and took out her spare key. “Here.” She offered him the key, then shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I’ll go get the bassinet.” She spun on her heel, leaving him holding a diaper bag and suitcase.

He didn’t think twice about what he was doing. If he had, he’d likely have walked out the front door and kept right on walking. He was so far out of his depth, so far outside of ordinary that he’d need a new frame of reference for normal. He tried not to think about that as he unbuckled the car seat from Mi’s car, buckled it into the backseat of his extended cab, and put the bassinet Mi gave him into the bed of his truck.

He watched as Mi took ‘Ethan’ from her mother and strapped him into the car seat, then he helped them both into the truck and they were on their way. He’d noticed that Mi had tied a scarf around her neck in the middle of fucking summer. A scarf. To hide the bruises. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. But most of all he wanted to punch the shit out of something.

They pulled up in front of an apartment building on the fringes of Dallas where families lived, kids played and parents probably didn’t try to choke their children to death. He escorted Mi and her mother carrying Ethan to the front door. Mi knocked. Then knocked again. Her brother answered the door after the third knock. He opened it with a scowl and the stale scent of whiskey on his breath.

They crossed the threshold, walking from suburbia to
Animal House
in a few short strides. Lucas had friends who had lived like this in their college days, but if he had to guess he would double down on Mi’s brother not being a student. This level of lazy came from selfishness and a general I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anything attitude.

“Where’s Mom supposed to sleep?” Mi asked her brother out of the side of her mouth. She eyed the pile of laundry on the couch.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to call the maid to have her spruce the place up before you came.” Jason kicked an empty chip bag on his way to the couch.

Her brother picked up the laundry and threw it on the floor. From Lucas’s angle, he couldn’t tell if it was clean or dirty. He guessed it didn’t really matter one way or the other to Jason since they were in the same shape as the clothes he wore.

Faye sat down on the couch, cradling her doll, and took up her rocking and singing again.

“Where can I put this?” Lucas asked, lifting the bassinet he carried.

Jason’s gaze flew to Mi. “Are you shitting me?”

“Jas, please,” Mi whispered. “It’s just for a few days until I can figure a couple of things out.”

“Fine. Whatever. But you owe me.” Jason turned to Lucas. “Put that in the bedroom. I don’t want anybody to see it.”

Lucas found the bedroom in even worse shape. He put the crib-thing in a corner of the room, feeling almost guilty. Jason could live how he wanted, but his mother shouldn’t have to step over her son’s empty condom wrappers to get to the bathroom.

Fuck.

He walked back into the living area and straight into a harshly whispered argument between Mi and her brother.

“—two hundred then,” Mi spat.

“Deal. But the price goes up if this goes longer than three days,” Jason replied.

“What the hell is going on here?” Lucas asked.

“Nothing,” Mi muttered, gluing her gaze on the floor.

Jason rocked back on his heels. “Just getting some things straight, man.”

“Mi, why don’t you show your mother where Ethan’s things are so she knows,” Lucas said.

She gave him a quick, hard warning look, then took her mother into the bedroom.

Lucas turned to Jason and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He drew out a five one hundred dollar bills and shoved them at Jason. “Take her to a decent fucking hotel for as long as it takes to find her another place to stay. This will get you started. Here’s my business card if you need more. And you don’t take one dime from Mi. Got it?”

Jason bobbed his head, his eyes wide.

“You should wonder why your sister’s wearing a scarf.”

“What?”

“And keep your fucking mouth shut.” He dropped another hundred into Jason’s hand and put his wallet away.

Jason shoved the money in his front pocket. “Got it.”

They turned as Mi reentered the room. Lucas had to hand it to Jason, the kid knew how to act, slipping back into his surly brother skin in the blink of an eye.

Mi’s gaze bounced between the two men, then settled on Lucas’s chin. “Can you please get the car seat out of your truck?”

“Sure.” Lucas strolled to the truck, blindly trusting that Jason actually gave a shit about his sister.

By the time he got back with the car seat, Mi and her brother were going at it. Lucas hovered by the door just out of sight.

“Did that asshole do that to you?” Lucas heard Jason ask.

“No!”

“Then what the fuck, Mi? Who choked you?”

“Keep your voice down.” There was a long silence and then Lucas heard Mi’s voice, small and defeated. “Mom did it.”

“
What
?”

“Ssh, be quiet.”

Lucas picked that moment to walk back in. He took in Mi’s stiff posture and Jason’s fury flushed face. “What the hell’s going on?” He should really take up acting.

Jason pointed at Mi’s neck, directing his anger at Lucas. “Why did you bring our mom
here
instead of locking her up?”

In answer, Lucas turned to Mi.

Jason did the same. “Are you fucking kidding me, Mi? This has to stop. She’s sick. She needs help. What the fuck were you thinking bringing her here?”

“Keep your voice down,” Mi pleaded.

So the brother wasn’t in on the big secret. Interesting, Lucas thought.

Jason’s tone gentled. “Mi, she steals shit. She burns down houses. She takes care of a damn doll like a real baby. She fucking choked you. What else has to happen before you admit she needs help?”

Mi put a shaking hand to her forehead. “Back off, Jason.”

“Mi,” Jason urged. “She tried to kill you.”

“I know!” Mi backed away, her whole body trembling. “Just do this please. I promise you it will be okay. She’ll be okay. She’s taking a nap right now.” She looked up at her brother and what Lucas saw in her eyes nearly broke his heart.

He had to get her out of there. “We’ll leave this discussion for now. I’m taking Mi home.” He put an arm around her and herded her toward the door. “Let us know if anything… changes,” he told Jason as they left.

On the way home Lucas tried to make sense of what had happened at Jason’s apartment. The kid obviously cared about his sister. He and Lucas were on the same side as far as getting Faye help. And from the way it sounded, he’d been after Mi to do just that for some time now. So why wouldn’t Mi get her mother help? Fuck it. As soon as he was alone he’d call Malcolm and get him to dig deeper into Faye’s background and Ethan’s death. He already had Malcolm chasing down Mi’s missing friend Tracey, what was one more search?

They pulled into the parking garage of Lucas’s building and into his parking spot. He cut the engine and sat back. Mi reclined against her seat, her head turned away. From this angle, he could see the marks on her neck, just turning to bruises. A strand of hair blocked a portion of it, but not enough to buffer the punch to the gut seeing her injury delivered.

He climbed out of the truck, came around to her side, and opened the door. She looked at him then, her eyes full of need. He unbuckled her seat belt and lifted her. She wrapped her arms around his neck loosely. He carried her through the lobby and up to the apartment. The lobby guards barely paid them any attention anymore. He went straight to the bathroom and sat her down on the toilet seat, then turned the faucets on the tub. When the water heated, he plugged the drain and adjusted the temperature.