The Iron Tiara

Ignoring Kit and Moe's stares, Christy headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and turned on the light. She looked in the mirror and stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the battered woman who stared back. What am I doing?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of men's voices. She looked toward the shower stall and noticed a high window to the left of it. It was a louver-style window, already open about an inch. She immediately recognized Anthony's voice. Walking to the window she stood on her tiptoes to see out, but it was too high. She pressed her cheek against the cool tile and listened.

"I didn't rape her. I swear I didn't rape her!" a man cried.

Anthony stood over the guy he'd shoved to his knees. He slowly removed his shirt and tossed it to X who caught it with one hand. He didn't bring a spare and didn't want blood splatter all over him.

"You were going to," Anthony said calmly.

"But I didn't," Carney replied in a shaky voice.

"I saw what you did to her face. You should be thanking me for not doing to you what I should do to you for touching her. If I had more time you'd be begging to be put out of your misery."

Misunderstanding Anthony's comment and thinking he was only going to get a reprimand, the man looked up warily at Anthony. "Thank you?" came Carney's strangled reply. His fear had caused a ball of phlegm to form in his throat and he could barely speak without choking.

"You're welcome," was all Anthony said.

Christy heard a sound she didn't recognize. It sounded like a whoosh followed seconds later by a splash.

"Two kills in two days. That's almost a record for you, Bear," X said, his comment brokering no unanswered questions.

"There'll be more than that if anyone touches my woman again," Anthony said as he threw his machete on the ground. He used his foot to roll Carney's body toward the swamp where his head had landed.

"She's your woman now?" X asked him as he threw his shirt back at him. He picked up the machete and dipped it in the water before drying it on his pants leg.

"Yeah, she's my woman now. Make sure everybody knows it," Anthony said as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“And when did that happen?” X asked, his tone filled with curiosity and quite honestly, disbelief.

“This morning,” Anthony called over his shoulder as he headed for unit four to collect his lady.

Christy knew she should have been shocked. She was certain she'd heard a man die and she knew she should have been shaken and frightened, but she'd never felt safer in her life. It didn’t make sense, but her exhaustion caused her to cling to it. She turned off the bathroom light and headed back to the small living room. Grizz stood when she approached. Seconds later, the door opened and Anthony strode in. He didn't say anything, just extended his hand toward Christy. She started to walk his way and broke into a run, throwing herself into his huge arms. He held her tightly as he looked over her head at Grizz, and then Kit.

"Thank you for taking care of her. X will get her car back to Naples. I'll be in touch," he said, and left before anyone could reply.

Moe knew that it was time for her to leave and she followed Anthony and Christy out the door.

Grizz walked toward his wife who was half asleep.

"There's a lot more going on here than what you told me," she remarked as he pulled her into a standing position.

"I know, Kitten. I'll tell you tomorrow. You need to get some sleep." He smiled.

"And I want you to tell me everything," she added, stifling a yawn.

"I will, honey," he told her as he took her hand and led her back to the bedroom.

He'd tucked her in and bent down to kiss her forehead when she asked him a question.

"Baked, broiled, sautéed, barbequed?"

"Huh? Are you dreaming, Kit?" he quietly asked her.

"No, I'm wondering how you want your shoe cooked?" Her voice was sleepy but playful.

"My shoe?" he asked, as he sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. His massive weight caused her to roll toward him.

"When I ran away from you a couple years ago and you alerted Anthony that I might head over the Alley." Her words started to slur. "I asked you what would've happened to me if he found me, and you told me he would've returned me to you. You also said you would've done the same thing for him but it would never come to that. Do you remember having that conversation?" she asked, groggily.

"Yeah," he answered a little too quickly. "No, not really," he admitted.

"You told me that if Anthony ever fell in love you would eat your shoe. I'm wondering how you want it served up?"

"What makes you think Anthony is in love, Kitten?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I could see it on his face," she said, her eyes closed though she was still smiling. "He looked at Christy the same way you look at me."





Chapter Eighteen





Naples, Florida 1978





After dropping X and a jug of gasoline at Christy's abandoned car, Anthony headed back toward Florida’s west coast.

"You're sure you’re okay?" he asked as he cast a tentative glance at Christy. She was pressed up against the passenger door. She was hugging her knees to her chest, and staring out the side window. She looked over at him and watched him stiffen as the sight of her bruised and swollen face incited him. Or was it something else? she wondered.

"You're mad at me," she said, and observed the not so subtle clench of his jaw.

He looked over at her and his face immediately hardened. "Yes, Christy. I'm mad. Running off was stupid. I can't even let myself think about what would've happened to you if Grizz hadn't been at the motel."

Her eyes widened and she gulped. "I heard what you said to Alexander on the phone. About killing people," she said softly. "After not being able to contact Valerie for help in locating Van, my imagination started getting the best of me. I'm so sorry for not trusting you, Anthony."

His face softened in reaction to her words, and she added, "I was in the bathroom at the motel. I heard what happened out back."

"And?" he asked, glancing at the road and then back at her.

"And it doesn't matter." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"You didn't answer me before," he said. "Are you okay? Physically?"

"I'd be lying if I didn't say everything hurts and I feel like I could sleep for a year." She gave him a small smile.

He reached out his arm. "Come here, Princess."

She unbuckled her seat belt and slowly scooted toward him. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She buried her face in his side and broke out in heavy, gut-wrenching sobs. He let her cry as he stroked her hair softly. She'd been through a lot the last two days. She had to be physically as well as mentally spent. He'd never felt so protective of anyone since bonding with Nisha all those years ago. And like Nisha, Christy was strong and feisty and would most likely protect herself or die trying. It was a quality he admired and respected. It was also a responsibility he wanted to own.

After she collected herself, she looked up at the side of his face and asked him a question. “Can you do me a favor?” Before he could answer she added, “Can you stop calling me Princess?”

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