Unusually for Ace, he’s pouting. “I’ll be sixteen the week after. I kinda thought the rally could be my birthday celebration.”
I keep quiet, knowing full well Pippa will continue to arrange the party, even if I’m not physically able to do much myself. Unbeknownst to him, he’ll only have another week to wait for his birthday surprise.
Without giving too much away, I simply say, “We’ll do something for your birthday, kid.”
His eyes narrow. “When I turn sixteen, can you drop the ‘kid’ shit?”
“Nope.” I pop the p. What are moms for if not to annoy their offspring, even if they’ve been gained by pseudo adoption?
“Mo..om,” he whines.
“Want to watch something on television?” See? Alone would be better. I feel I have to entertain him now. Not that I resent it, but to be honest, all I want to do is close my eyes and sleep.
He considers for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure.” Grabbing the remote, he summons the screen to come to life, and then browses the menus so fast I can’t keep up with him. “What about this?” he asks, landing on a true crime documentary. Unfortunately, it’s about a woman who was kidnapped, beaten, and left for dead. Spoiler – she died.
Not quite the light entertainment I was hoping for, but he takes my noncommittal grunt as confirmation and clicks on the program. Her naked, battered body was in the opening titles, the words strategically placed to preserve her dignity.
I remind myself that the case is not similar. Unlike that poor woman, I’m alive. Despite my misgivings, I become engrossed in how the on-screen law enforcement tracked down the perpetrator. It’s just getting to the good part when the door opens, and Freak steps inside.
My eyes ask the question that’s topmost on my mind.
“You’re free, Trix. He’s dead.” He stands in the doorway as if waiting for some sign. I hold out my hand to him. As if chains have dropped from his ankles, he suddenly starts moving, and injust one second, he’s by my side. Dropping to his knees, his hand hovers as though he’s afraid to touch me, and his eyes narrow as they fall on my face. “When did you last take some painkillers?”
“Before she came up to this room,” Ace replies for me. “Dad, the tablets Bronwyn gave her are on the nightstand.” He points to where he left them by my side, along with a bottle of water. Then, he stands. “I’m starving. I’m going to see if I can scrounge up some food. Either of you want any?”
“I could do with a sandwich,” I tell him. “Can you see if Pippa’s around?”
He scoffs. “I can make something. Dad?”
“Yeah, I’ll take whatever you find,” Freak replies to him.
When the door closes behind Ace, Freak continues to examine me with his eyes. “How are you feeling, really?”
“My head hurts, I’m tired, my stomach aches, my back’s sore, and my ankle throbs. And I’m not looking forward to tonight when, according to Bronwyn, you’ll have to wake me every two hours. But other than that, I’m A-okay.”
His eyes close briefly as if he’s the one in pain. “Think I’m going to get a prospect to take Ace back to his nana’s. Or none of us is going to get any sleep tonight.” His eyes fall on the cot where Ace used to sleep before we moved to the house.
I place my hand on his cheek. “Or, we could go back to the house.”
He rears back. “No fuckin’ way. I want you here, close to Bronwyn, should you need her skills in the night.”
“She’s not working?”
“Nah, I checked. But she is tomorrow.”
My injuries are nothing new, and I’ve recovered before. I want to protest and go home. Then, I remember, earlier, as I’d been drifting in and out, I’d heard almost every word Freak had spoken. He’s been so fucking worried about me, I don’t have it in me to give him more cause for concern.
“I want to go home tomorrow,” I compromise, giving him tonight. “Perhaps Bron can clear me before she goes to the hospital?” Then I wonder if there are things he needs to tell me. “Unless it’s not safe?”
“He’s gone,” he reminds me. “He can’t hurt you again. And from what I gleaned when I questioned him, he didn’t tell the Mafia you were here.”
“I suspected that. He had only onesoldatowith him.”
Freak nods his head.
“He confirmed he wanted to kill you so he could get married again.” He pulls himself upright, walks around to the other side of the bed, lies down, and then his hands hover. Hiding my wince, I turn to face him, twisting so I can leave my ankle in the partially comfortable position where it was. He hesitantly puts his arm over me, gently giving me his weight while studiously studying me to make sure he’s not causing pain. I sigh as his warmth seeps into me. It’s only now that I realise I truly feel safe.
“At least Piero’s death saves another young girl from being treated like me.”
