Page 73 of Reckoning

“The house looks so nice. It smells clean and it’s uncluttered. I’ll settle for another microwave dinner rather than leave again, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure. Either way is fine with me,” she said.

“I have to be gone most of the day tomorrow. Rita is stuck with the office. The first day of the divorce mediation is at the county courthouse. I’m riding with my lawyer. He’s picking me up at eight a.m., so I’m going to leave the car here for you, just in case you need it.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re dreading it,” she said.

“All the threats, and the whining, and the demands…they will be endless. Even with a mediator present, it’s not going to be pretty.” Then he remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be degrading your mother to you in any way.”

Briar shrugged. “She does that all by herself. Quit worrying about me, Dad. Her absence in this house has been my blessing. Anyway, back to supper. What’ll it be? Salisbury steak, potatoes, and green beans, or lasagna?”

He laughed. “What a menu. I can hardly decide. How about I treat you tonight? You pick the one you want, and I’ll eat the other.”

“Then you’re getting steak and taters,” she drawled.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Done. I’m going to finish my beer, so you eat when you’re ready. I’ll be up to shower later.”

“Oh! Surprise…your bathroom is completely finished. There isn’t any furniture in that room yet, but you have one heck of a new toilet and shower. I shared some of my towels and washcloths with you. No more climbing the stairs for you, but you need to replenish the stuff you lost. And, since your closet is finished too, you need to get some new clothes. Nearly everything you had was thrown out due to mold and glass.”

“Seriously? Oh my God. That’s the best news ever,” he said, and got up to investigate.

Briar felt sorry for him, but grateful she was finally of age. There would be no arguments as to who got custody of her, and there was no child support to fuss about. No choices for the legal system to intrude upon her life. And the knowledge that she would be home alone tomorrow was something Tate might want to know. She didn’t know what was going on with Micah Bandy’s unexpected presence, but Tate would tell her if it mattered.

She glanced out the front window. Long shadows were spreading upon the yards, looming like monsters waiting for night to fall. It would be dark in an hour or so. She turned away from the flight of fancy, reminding herself Mariah had been their monster, and she, the sacrificial lamb. It was Tate that broke the spell when he saved her, and now the monster in this house was finally gone.

She went to heat up her lasagna and ate standing up at the center island. She was tired but clean, and now fed, and she’d had enough of this day, and she left a note on the counter by the microwave.

I’m in my room watching TV. If I fall asleep…sleep well. Tomorrow is just another day, and you’ll be fine.

Love me.

Roger found the note when he was nuking his dinner, but when he got to the last two words, he stopped and reread the message again, then again, wondering if the omission of a comma between the last two words was an accident or a plea. He frowned, trying to remember the last time he’d actually hugged her, or told her he loved her, then sighed.

Too little—too late.

The motto of his life.

* * *

There was a knot in Tate’s stomach and a lump in his throat. Fate was already pulling him away from Briar. This visit to Tennessee was going to change everything. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew why. His time as a child was over—would have already been over had it not been for the illness that reset the time clock of his life. He would turn twenty after Christmas. Briar had just turned eighteen.

As soon as he got to his room, he closed the door and sat down on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to will away what he’d seen on Trevor Stennett’s face. Too young for such horror. Too innocent for what he’d endured. Forever scarred by what he had seen.

Tomorrow, Tate had to deposit a ten-thousand-dollar check in his bank account and pack for Tennessee.

Trevor was going home, but his life was in free fall.

And Randy Brimm would die in prison for his chosen trade. Inmates cleaned their own houses of child molesters.

Tate got up, took off his shirt, then turned with his back to a mirror, eyeing the healing scar on his shoulder, then took off his jeans to check the one on the back of his leg.

He could only wonder how many scars he would bear following this path, but it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t fail Briar. He wouldn’t betray the blessing he’d been given to help others, but she was his reason for being.

He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and headed for the bathroom to shower. When he got back to his room, the first thing he did was call her—to hear her voice, and to remember what it felt like coming undone inside her.

* * *

Briar was watching TV, stretched out on her bed with the air conditioning on blast and a blanket pulled up to her chin. She had never been able to fall asleep without covers, and she shivered wondering what it was going to be like falling asleep in Tate Bandy’s arms. One day it would happen, but not anytime soon. She had her own world to create and conquer, just as he did.