Mile High (Up In The Air #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

My hand dropped into my lap still holding the phone.

“What is it?” James asked, apparently not overhearing the strange message. I didn’t answer, my mind busy worrying over the bizarre development of my father having a wife.

James took the phone out of my hand, and I watched him retrace my steps and hold the phone up to his own ear to listen to my message.

Nosy, rich bastard, I thought, almost fondly.

His brow furrowed as he listened to the strange message. He reached over to put my phone on the bedside table, then came close to cuddle me against him.

“I don’t like this. If you decide to meet with her, it should be in public, and make sure you have at least two bodyguards with you. Promise me, Love.”

I nodded absently, nowhere near keeping up with his train of thought, my mind still obsessing over the strange knowledge that my father had remarried. When? Why? Did he treat this strange woman better than he had my poor abused mother? The woman was alive, so clearly he did.

In spite of my body’s exhaustion, my mind became too busy for sleep after that. James cleaned us both, even wiping away my makeup before turning out the lights and spooning in behind me. His presence was soothing, but I still worried over the surprising news for a long time before finally drifting into a restless sleep.

I was in that house again. I lay in my hard, tiny bed. I was hugging my knees to my chest, rocking and rocking, and trying to ignore the harsh shouts just a few thin walls away. If I stayed in my room, it would all go away. They would forget I was even here and in the morning my Dad would sleep all day and leave us in peace so I could tend to my Mother.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Not this time. The yelling grew louder, my mothers turning into terrified screams.

When I couldn’t stand the horrible noises a moment longer, I crept quietly through the house to investigate. In spite of my overwhelming fear, my need to at least attempt to aid my mother almost always thrust me into the violent thick of things.

I looked down at my thin bare feet, wishing I knew where some clean socks were. I was so cold, an achy kind of cold, down to my very soul.

My parents were speaking in Swedish, and I pieced together some hysterical words as I got closer to the kitchen where they fought. “No, no, no. Please, Sven, put that away.”

My father’s voice was an angry roar. “You’ve ruined my life. You and that brat. I’ve lost everything because of you. My fortune, my inheritance, and now, my luck. You’ve taken everything from me, just by living. Tell me why I shouldn’t take everything from you, you silly cunt?”

“When you’re sober, you’ll regret it. We have a child together, Sven. Please, just go to sleep. If you sleep on it, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! F*ck sleep. F*ck you. And f*ck that little brat. Look at her, hovering in the door, frozen like a little mouse.” His cold eyes went to me.

I was frozen in place, as he’d said. He changed his tone when he spoke to me, and it turned into a mockery of a gentle tone. “Why don’t you join us, sotnos? Come be with your pretty Mama.”

I moved to my mother, having learned a very long time ago not to disobey him when he was in this mood.

He sneered at the two of us when I stood beside her. He towered over us. My mother didn’t look at me, didn’t reach for me. I knew she didn’t want to draw more attention to me. She tried to protect me, as I did her. “Look at my pretty girls. The daughter is even prettier than the mother. What use, then, is the mother? Tell me why you’re useful, Mama?” he asked her.

I didn’t hear her answer. My gaze was focused solely now on the object he was holding at his side. It was a gun. My gut clenched in dread. The gun was a new and terrifying addition to this violent scene.

My gaze flew back to my father’s face as a laugh left his throat. It was a cackle of a laugh, dry and angry.

I began to back away, shaking my head back and forth in denial.

“Wrong answer, cunt,” he said.

He waved the the pistol in front of her. “You can’t take your eyes off of this. Do you want it? Would you like me to give this to you? Take it, if you want it. You think I can’t touch you with a gun in your hand?”

My mother watched him, her eyes almost blank with terror. She must know, as I did, from the mocking tone of his voice, that he was testing her. She would pay dearly if she took the gun from him, even if he had told her to.

He laughed. “I insist. Take the gun.”

Unexpectedly, and horrifyingly, she did. She pointed it at him with hands that shook. “Get out,” she said, her voice tremulous and awful with her terror. “You can’t do these things, especially in front of our daughter. Get out, and don’t come back.” She was sobbing, but she managed to pull the hammer back.

He laughed again. With no fear and no effort, he grabbed her hand. His hand covered one of hers, ripping the other one away. He turned the gun, slowly and inexorably pointing it away from himself and pushing it into her mouth.

I had backed myself against the wall as I watched their exchange, but when I saw his clear intent, I suddenly rushed forward, sobbing, “Mama.”

I stopped as though I’d run into a wall when my father pulled the trigger, covering us and the entire room in obscene amounts of glowing crimson blood and gore.

My horrified eyes met my father’s. His showed no expression at all.

I awoke to total darkness, a harsh scream caught in my throat. I had no notion of where I was and I began to scramble off of the huge, soft bed, fumbling around in the pitch blackness for a wall, a lamp, a light switch, anything. I needed to wash the blood off. I was feeling along the wall and sobbing like a child when light suddenly flooded the room.


I finally got an inkling of where I was as James rushed to me, cradling me into his chest. “What’s wrong, Bianca? What can I do?”

I gasped in several breaths before I could speak. “Shower. I need a shower. I need to wash the blood off.”

He didn’t ask anymore questions, getting us both into the shower in a flash. He turned the water directly onto me, and the cold water that hit me for just moments before it began to warm helped bring me a few steps further away from the dream.

Slowly, my broken sobs turned into gasping breaths as I became clean in the water, my mind moving further and further out of the nightmare realm.

“Can you talk about it?” James asked. His voice was so vulnerable with his concern for me that I couldn’t resist him.

“It’s the same old dream about my mother’s death. I was in that room, not three feet from her, when it happened.” I felt the floodgates open, and I told him everything, every gory detail, of both the dream and the horrific event. He didn’t speak at all, just made sympathetic noises and gave me reassuring touches while I spoke. I was surprised to feel much better when I’d gotten it all out. It had actually helped to tell him about it.

He helped me out of the shower and dried us both off. We lay in a naked snuggle on the bed with only a sheet covering us. He was on his back and had pulled me almost on top of him.

I rubbed my cheek over my name on his chest as he stroked my wet hair back, arranging it over his arm.

“You’ve done all you can. You told the police everything you saw. It’s not your burden anymore, Bianca.”

“Yes, I know. I haven’t had that nightmare since that other time, over a month ago. I think it was learning about her, his wife, that got my mind back into that dark place again. I need to tell her what he did, to warn her. I don’t know the woman, but she deserves that much. Lord, I don’t want to speak to her. I don’t want anything to do with her.”

“You could always just send her an email, or hell, a letter. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

I mulled that over. It seemed so cowardly to be afraid of a simple phone call. “I’ll call her tomorrow,”

I decided.

His arms tightened on me, his hold becoming almost painful. It was comforting to my twisted senses. “I need to stay in New York this week. Will you come back to be with me on your first day off?”

I thought about it. It didn’t take me long. “Yes. Do you mind if I invite Stephan? You have plenty of room, after all.”

I had felt all of the anxious tension leave his body when I agreed to come. “We have plenty of room,” he chastised. “And yes, of course. Invite Javier, too, if you like. Or anyone you want, for that matter. I’ll have to work quite a bit anyways. I’ve been putting some important meetings off that need tending to.

And god only knows what a mess my New York management has made of things on the Manhattan property. I would feel better if you had someone to hang out with while I’m working. I wouldn’t want you to get bored, though you do have a studio set up for painting downstairs. I never had time to show you. We never seem to have enough time. How many days can you take off this week?”

“I can fly into New York Monday morning, and take a flight back on Thursday. I can take a week off from working overtime.”

I began to wonder if Stephan could work his own overtime with Javier, instead of me. My boyfriend was filthy rich. It seemed silly not to at least keep my days off.

My stance had changed so drastically from just a week ago that I felt almost dizzy with it. Instead of intending to continue my life exactly as I pleased, I found myself wanting to compromise to please James, and of course, to see more of him.

He gave me a soft kiss for my concession. “I would love that. Thank you.”

I sighed, plunging in deeper. “It seems ridiculous to work overtime anymore, everything considered.

My straight time can more than cover my mortgage and food, and you bought me enough clothing to last a lifetime. I’m going to see if Stephan will work his extra shifts with Javier. I’d be willing to bet he won’t mind the idea.”

“Thank you,” he said with quiet sincerity. “I’ll make sure to make it worth your while.”

I burrowed against him, feeling good. Good about him. Good about us. “You already have.”

“You make me so happy, Bianca. I never knew life could be this good. I’ve been alone for so long, since my parents died, really. But I don’t feel alone with you. I feel like I have a family and a home again. You’re my home. All of the dark shadows seem to disappear when we’re together.”

I placed a kiss on my name over his heart, feeling myself drifting off. I didn’t even know what time it was, but I wasn’t worried. I knew James wouldn’t let me oversleep. More and more, I just trusted him.