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I don’t exactly know how but I just know. And Blake’s heavy hands on my hips and back as he kisses me all over from behind as he fills me tell me that he knows something magical has just happened too.
Chapter Twenty
Blake
I thought the romance of the rail journey would be nice. It’s a bit touristy but with Halloween and all, the train’s practically empty.
But I never thought, not in my wildest dreams it would come to mean so much.
How much we’d both feel more connected to each other than ever from now on.
Lawyers and news stories be damned.
I suddenly want it to be just about us now.
The three of us.
I must’ve fallen asleep clutching Lois, waking up tangled with her warmth amongst the sheets and heavy brocade covers.
The steady click-clack of the tracks underneath us and the gentle rocking make me want to keep my eyes closed just a little longer.
Holding her closer to me as I hear her breath in her sleep.
I’ll get us through this Lois, I promise.
There’s the sound of rain against the windows, along with the rushing of the train. A slippery sounding, steel on steel beneath us now as the gray light of dawn peeks through the heavy curtains.
I wonder if any other souls made it through the night… All Hallows eve…
My own soul feeling replenished.
Resurrected.
My woman in my arms and nothing but our future ahead of us.
But what sort of future?
Almost as soon as I have the thought, there’s an apologetic knock at our door.
Insistent.
I sigh softly, and disentangling myself from Lois, slipping on a robe hanging by the bed, I open the door.
“Sorry. Mr. Barnes… but we’ve had nothing but phone calls and faxes, emails all night. Lots of people trying to reach you, the police,” The steward adds, looking sideways at me suddenly.
“It’s alright,” I murmur, half-yawning. “I kinda expected that. We’ll deal with it over breakfast,” I tell him, noting his look of concern.
“How soon until we-?” and then I notice the train starting to slow down, miles, hours before I know we’re due to stop.
“I’m very sorry Mr. Barnes,” the steward says, a few more employees appearing behind him.
“And I’m guessing you’re not all here to make up our bed…?”
I feel my body tense when Lois’ arm hooks around my waist. She’s pulling one of my shirts up higher to cover herself. “Blake. What is it? Why are we stopping?”
The largest of the steward’s steps forward, and I feel my hands balling into fists.
But it’s useless.
“We’ll have to ask you both to step this way,” he says in a somber, don’t make this more difficult than it already is tone.
And I thought first class bought something more these days.
What little luggage we have is waiting for us, along with Lois’s phone and laptop at the exit. The train’s stopped, but there’s no platform.
From what I can see in the murky dawn, we’re on a country stretch of line still, with no stop or town anywhere in sight.
A large, dark car pulls up on the road nearest the track, and the driver, another huge guy in a dark suit and wrap around shades gets out. He waits by the passenger side of the car, with windows so dark I can’t see inside.
“I don’t like this Blake,” Lois murmurs, clutching my hand.
I don’t either, but it looks like maybe this whole thing went to the feds after all… who knows?
We’re not so politely helped off the train and the train starts to build up steam again, ready to leave without us.
I pull Lois close and walk us towards the waiting car.
“I’m afraid you’ll both have to come with us,” the driver says as we get closer, not sounding or looking any more polite than the men on the train.
He opens the car door, and as the light inside floods out, I breathe a sigh of relief which turns into a soft laugh.
“Well don’t just stand there, get in! I’m freezing my ass off here,” croaks a familiar, cranky voice.
“Lois… this is Mrs. Barnes, she looks out for me when I get myself in trouble,” I hear myself saying, bundling her into the warmth of the car before taking my own seat next to Mrs. B.
As soon as we’re inside, the car takes off at speed, and I introduce Lois to Mrs. Barnes.
“Blake has told me so much about you,” Lois says slowly, raising her voice a little. The way most people talk to really old folks.
Mrs. B. grunts and then orders Lois point blank not to shout.
“I’m old, not deaf!” she exclaims, leaning on her cane a little as she flexes both her gloved hands over the top of it, turning to face me.
“Your lawyer friend, Hal told me you were on your way, so I decided to get to you before the law did,” she murmurs, that serious look in her faded gray eyes, still bright with life but narrowed with a serious tone I haven’t seen since I was a kid.
