Reena Smith was the working definition of a normal 18 year old girl. All of her questions got simple, to the point answers and nothing was ever too out of place.
But Reena's life runs wild when dark and dangerous secrets begin to break to the surfac...
"Come on, Katherine. Food. Now." Joey deadpanned. I groaned, rolled, glared at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you and your brother so damn inclined to giving orders?" I snapped and pulled myself out of Matthew's bed. The mercenaries had left the day before, loaded to the teeth with weapons. I knew they'd be launching the attack tonight. And all Joey and I could do was wait.
"Because you're bad at taking them." He snapped and threw a pair of my leggings at me from off the floor. I growled at him as I pulled the leggings on over my black panties. I'd spent the day moping in Matthew's room, irritable and worried. They would be attacking the warehouse tonight. Duncan wanted to kill them all. Matthew, Kat and James' lives were at stake and what was I doing? Moping in Matthew's bed, wearing one of his football Jerseys, that's what. Pathetic.
"What now?" I sked, arms waving at my sides when Joey had one perfect lip curled in disgust. He tossed a brush at me. "Your hair looks like it could eat people." Yep. Joey and I might have developed an understanding but we sure as hell still didn't like each other. I decided to forgo what I wanted to say – "You can't brush curls, it makes them frizz" – and yanked the brush through my hair, ripping at the knots and not even wincing. To control the frizz, I pulled my hair back and let Joey watched irritably, tapping his foot impatiently while I went through the process of making a long, thick pipe braid down the back of my skull hanging all the way to the centre of my back.
"Are you finished now?" He snapped. I whipped him a glare and grabbed the bottom of Matthews football jersey, whipped it off and threw it at him with all the aggression I could muster. He caught it and rolled his eyes at me as I walked to the other corner of the room and pulled on one of my own black tank tops over my black sports bra and then opened his closet and pulled out Matthew's old Letterman jacket, throwing it on. I shoved my woollen-socked feet into my black boots and aggressively zipped them up. "Now I'm done, you arrogant little fuck." I snapped at him, grabbing Matthew's truck's keys out of his hand and flipping the hood of the jacket up over my head before I marched out into the light drizzle. Joey followed behind me, and I could hear his teeth grinding in my wake.
We got into the cab and I started the car. "Where do you want to go?" I asked. He sighed. "Let's go to Julia's. We'll get pasta. You need your strength." When he said that I remembered that he felt it was his duty to protect me for his brother and that he'd actually cared for me when we were kids. I needed to ease up. I sighed, reached over and squeezed his knee. "I'm sorry. I know you're scared. But I'm just pissed." A flush prickled up his neck and he cleared his throat. "It's ok. I'm scared about Matthew too. I'm sorry I'm hard on you." He reached down and squeezed my hand as his face burned red. He pulled back and ran the same hand through his floppy hair before clearing his throat again.
I pulled the car away from the drive and headed to Main. The whole time, the back of my head itched, and it wasn't the pipe braid.
The evening before, both of us sitting on Matthew's bed, he'd handed me a phone. "We only get one shot at this." He warned. "What do I say?" I asked, chewing my lip. "I don't know. Matt said that this was the last case scenario. I don't know what it is." He said.
I breathed deep. Took the phone. I stared at the number on the screen. I let the breath out slowly and when there was no air left in my lungs to push out, I quickly thumbed the green call button. It rang five times, and on each ring my eyes flicked to Joey's, then to the bed spread. Something clicked over the line and the ringing stopped. I sat with the silence for a few seconds. I pulled the phone away from my ear and the screen said the call was ongoing. I pressed it back to my ear. "Hello?" silence. Dead silence.
"Hi, is anyone there? I need help?" Quiet.
I breathed in, closed my eyes. "My name is Katherine Nexcov. It used to be Reena Dallas Smith.... Look I don't know who you are but Matthew.... Uh, Matthew Cavalier... I don't know it might me Matthew Veynox or Matthew Allegresso, he's in trouble." More silence.
"Hey!" I snapped. "Answer me! Matthew's going to die and so are Kat and James! I ... I mean his mother and father. Help me get him."
More empty, static silence.
"Answer me!" I yelled.
The call went dead. I tried to call the number again, but as soon as I pressed the green button I got an automated voice telling me the line had been disconnected.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, fingers clenching on the steering wheel. I pushed the car through the rain sighing as the fine drops fell. We were the only car on a wooded off road, and I sighed at the quiet. And then, fifty feet in front of me, a body stepped out of the woods and walked to the middle of the road. "Oh, not this shit again." I snapped. I hit the brakes, slower this time. "What's going on." Joey didn't say it like a question, he stated it. I sighed at him. Here we go again.
The car came to a stop. The figure was female, draped in a long black trench coat with a hood. "Stay in the car." I said to Joey as I opened the door and stepped out. I walked around the front of the car towards her, fine water droplets hitting the letterman jacket. A large black van pulled out of an alcove in the trees behind her. It pulled up behind her and a door slid open.
"You asked for help." She said. Her voice was low and smoky. I nodded. "If you want my help, you get in the van of your own free will. I don't kidnap anymore."
"Katherine." Joey called, and I saw him hanging out of the truck. "I'm going to fix this." I called to him, before I stepped into the van. She got in behind me and the door closed with a slide and snap.
*****
Hey, everyone.
Thank you for your patience. I'm trying to get back to being the kind of woman Tim could have been proud of, even if he's not here anymore. I'm trying to live again, and that starts here.
Thank you, all of you.
On the really bad days I'd read the comments some of you left over and over again. They made me feel okay, like someone out there cared. Thank you.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
