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Authors: Elizabeth Munro

Deadly Expectations (2 page)

BOOK: Deadly Expectations
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“It hasn’t changed a bit,” he commented as we got our seats.
 
Like dinner in a jewel box Mom used to say.
 
Gold and red lanterns hung everywhere, some waving their tassels as they caught the breeze from the ceiling fan.
 
Dark carved wood and bold wallpaper decorated every surface.
 
A candle in a plastic mesh covered red glass holder flickered in the middle of our table.

“Neither have you,” I replied.
 
“You look good.”

That got a smile.
 
He was still trim in spite of having an appetite like mine.

“You want a beer or something?”

I thought briefly about Paul and the lifestyle change I was nearly certain was coming.
 
“I don’t drink much these days.”

“You’re a good kid Anna.”

“So are you Dad.”

He and Mom were eighteen when Alina came along.
 
Me less than a year later.
 
She’d run a daycare to make ends meet while he got his electrician’s ticket.
 
He was a smart hard working man and within a few years had a crew of a dozen and Mom stopped replacing kids as they left.
 
He was forty-four now; closer in age to Paul than I was.

“I thought this would be harder you know,” he said as he pushed his flat bottomed spoon around the fat wontons and singled out a piece of pork.
 
“We spent as much here as the whole rest of the food bill.
 
I’m glad you and Alina got her good looks.
 
My Allison was such a pretty little thing.
 
You were already taller than her when she passed … never expected you two to shoot up like weeds.”

I nodded and wiped my cheek.

“Nearly caught up to you,” I laughed.
 
He was six foot one.

“In town long this time?”

“Mm
mm
,” I shook my head, my mouth had a whole wonton in it.
 
“Ride out tomorrow.
 
A month, maybe six weeks.
 
Got couple of big magazine shoots booked in
California
.
 
Then I’m going east through to
Florida
for another job.”

“Still single?”

“Yeah Dad,” I dropped my eyes as I felt my cheeks warm.
 
“Boys can’t catch me when all they see is my tailpipe disappearing into the sunset.”

“Suppose not … sorry to pry.”

“You’re not,” I sighed.
 
“Some days I really need her.
 
If I ever have kids I want to be just like her.”

“I think we both know exactly how much that would please her, Sweetie.”

When I looked up at him he was refolding his paper napkin before he wiped his eyes.

On the walk back I held his elbow.
 
He didn’t seem to mind and hugged me a little less awkwardly at my door.
 
I locked up behind him as he started his quick walk home then I watched the headlines run past until exhaustion took hold and carefully walked around the discarded motorcycle gear I’d shed on my way to the shower a few hours earlier.

Sleep found me quickly, my legs shoved under the laundry pile I shared my bed with.

 

Chapter 2

 

 

I didn’t expect to have my eyes open again until well past noon when I found myself looking up at the dark ceiling just as tired as when I’d closed them.
 
There was nothing but the sound of my breathing for a minute and I felt myself drifting off.

A sudden thump drove out any sleepiness I had left.

“Damn it …
bitch
!”

The staccato rattle of my uncooperative door knob accentuated his swearing.

I modestly grabbed for a blanket then went for my dresser instead after realizing it would just wrap around my legs and trip me.
 
Top drawer.
 
Gun.
 
Bottom drawer.
 
Rounds.
 
If I had a proper cabinet for the damn thing I’d have to go make coffee for my guest while he waited.

The next crash sounded like dishes then a heavy thud as my table went over.
 
Fighting the urge to bolt to the bathroom to do something about the sudden looseness in my stomach I neared the kitchen to see the window was wide open.
 
Table toppled over pinning a chair to the wall and broken glass on the floor.

“What the hell?” the angry voice said.

Another step and I could see a stranger struggling with the door.
 
He was half a foot shorter than me, dirty blonde hair nearly down to his shoulders.
 
When he turned in my direction I saw the sneer on his lips went up to his nose.
 
The dent in his forehead matched the edge of the counter and blood ran freely down his face dripping on my floor.

The handgun went up, both hands, elbows locked.
 
My instructor’s words echoing in my ears as his phantom hand brushed my hip.
 
“I’m not letting you leave until you hit something.”

He froze for just a second as he took in the gun, then he charged a few steps at me waving his arms as he laughed.
 
I fumbled with it, unable to find the fucking finger hole as he backed up and returned his attention to the knob.
 
In a short second he had it open and was gone.

I pulled in a few weak breaths and shoved my feet in my nearby boots so I could cross the floor for the phone.
 
My legs gave out as I backed up to the hall pushing 911.
 
When I put the gun on the floor I noticed the trigger lock still in place.
 
All I needed was a puddle to sit in to complete my pathetic picture.

Under the couch it went before I had to answer any questions about my lack of legal storage and the permit I likely needed for transporting it loaded from the bedroom to the kitchen.

I was weak, vulnerable, and completely alone.

It only took a few minutes to see the officers’ flashlights light up the shed and trees in the back yard.
 
The light gave me hope that what was beyond wasn’t completely empty while the lingering adrenaline in my muscles bound me to the floor.

 

Sun exposed the little burglar’s blood on my kitchen floor.
 
My upstairs tenant Mrs. Desmond had been moving around for a while.
 
As the coffee machine started to grumble and spit hot water into the basket I took the little box from the drug store to the bathroom.

I had most of the night to think about exactly how late I was and realized I already was the last time I’d seen Paul.
 
It didn’t surprise me.
 
It just wasn’t in my wiring to keep track.
 
I’d never counted the days and hours as I worried about the repercussions of anything I’d done in the back seat of a car or the powder room at a friend’s house like some of the girls in high school.
 
Granted I was two years younger than my peers and had my mind on other things but there hadn’t been anyone until Paul so I’d never gotten the hang of it along the way.

I picked up the test stick and looked at the two blue lines.

Then I double checked the instructions.

They said think about finding Paul because he never did anything to hurt you.
 
Then figure out how you’re going to pack a baby around on a motorcycle as you float from one place to another until you have nowhere to go and have to come home.
 
Think about getting a car and a real job and how you’re going to do it alone because you won’t let anyone close enough to help.
 
Think about it Anna.

The instructions were right.

Mrs. Desmond let
herself
in as I returned to the kitchen.
 
She was armed with a plate of cookies as she stepped carefully over the spots on my floor.

“Good morning Mrs. Desmond,” I told her as I kissed her cheek.
 
“I’m so sorry you were disturbed last night.”

The police had woken her despite my dire warning to leave her alone.
 
She shook her head as she looked at the blood.
 
“If he had gotten into my house he’d have been just as sorry.”

“Yes,” I said remembering her choice of words with the policeman.

I put the kettle on to make her tea as I started on a cookie and she started scrubbing up the mess at my front door.
 
Something was missing from the sill; a small picture of Alina and me in a little frog shaped frame, our heads centred in his spotted back.
 
I couldn’t imagine the little bastard taking it.

We chatted for a while as I ate then she went back upstairs and I made a few phone calls to cancel the work I’d told my father I was going south to do.
 
Every time I went in the bathroom the test was still there on the counter, reminding me I wasn’t alone any more.

As dinner time got closer the urge to run away became too much so I packed for a couple of days and gave my bike a once over before I hit the road again.

 

Chapter 3

 

 

I’d forgotten what day it was or I would have filled up somewhere else.
 
My old friend Kenny appeared in front of me as I closed up the tank.
 
Once a week he led his buddies out after work for a group ride either up or down
Vancouver Island
.

“They finally open the gates of hell and let you out?” he asked.

I made a face.
 
He needed a haircut and some sit-ups.

“They said to go find someplace worse and try and brighten it up so I came straight here to see you,” I said sweetly.

“You’re a bag,” he muttered.

“Hey Roger,” he called to his buddies.
 
“The little lady said I’m still the best she’s ever had.”

Roger would remember me from high school.

“Not you Kenny, I was talking about your dad,” I said as I pushed myself right up into him and stuck my nose in his ear, insincerely flattering him with a bit of heavy breathing.
 
“The old man really knows what he’s doing.”

Roger laughed and so did the others.
 
Kenny glared at me.

“You riding or what?” he asked.

“You know I’ll do just about anything to see your fat ass from behind.”

I heard snickering behind him.

“Good, ‘cause that’s were you’ll be.”
 
He pointed over to three riders off to the side.
 
The little one had his helmet on already.
 
“Those three rode up from
Victoria
today.
 
They found us online.
 
You follow them.”

I didn’t care.
 
I could fall off the end any time I wanted and nobody would notice plus I’d be far enough behind Kenny that I didn’t have to look at his fat ass.
 
When we got back the tunnel to the mainland would take me to the highway south.
 
Maybe make my way down to
California
to find Paul.
 
Maybe not; that felt too much like stalking by the pregnant ex.

BOOK: Deadly Expectations
13.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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