Kristen Ashley - For You

“All right, what else?”

“Other good news is; the feed has to be close. He isn’t beaming it to the moon. If he’s watchin’, he’s close too.”

“Good.”

“Okay, Colt, the bad news is, he knows Feb’s there because he’s got a camera on the street pointed at your house. They’re now tracin’ that feed too but we suspect it’s goin’ to the same place.”

“So he’s either close and watchin’ or he’s got an accomplice who’s informing.”

“That’s right.”

“He called her phone, Sully,” Colt told him.

“Easy for him to find her number, seein’ as he spent time in her house. Her number’s on her phone bill. Called Chris, he said we got one of Lowe’s prints off the big plastic folder she keeps her paperwork in, stowed in the closet on the shelf by her journals.”

“Chris is a good man.”

“Gotta watch it, Colt, he’s after our jobs.” Sully was joking but he wasn’t wrong. Chris would make detective, he wanted it, he worked hard and he was fucking smart, so much so, he might even beat Colt’s record to the badge.

“All right, got something more for you, Sully,” Colt said, his fingers giving Feb a squeeze in an effort to give her strength before she heard what was going to come out of his mouth. “You need to give this to the Feds and their profilers. Guy’s more whacked than we thought. He thinks he’s me.”

Colt heard both mother and daughter suck in breath but he only felt Feb’s body get tight against his so he gave her another squeeze.

“He tell you that?”

“Identified himself as Lieutenant Alexander Colton.” He heard Feb’s whispered “Oh my God,” but kept on talking. “Got jacked up when I called him Denny. Says he’s the police and he’s doin’ all this to keep her safe.”

“Jesus.”

“Also said there were two more. I reckon he thinks one is me, the other…” he let that trail when Feb’s head dropped to his shoulder.

“They didn’t get time to triangulate the signal on the phone,” Sully told him.

“Bad news.”

“They’re now monitorin’ her phone, yours, your house phone and the bar.”

Too little too late but who would imagine that fucking guy would actually call. Stupid move, he was getting messy and that could mean bad things, though it could also mean good and Colt went with his last thought.

“We need to be in his face about this shit?” Colt asked. “Press a reaction?”

“I’m gonna get in his face,” Jackie whispered her threat and Colt couldn’t help it, he smiled into his phone. Jackie got a hold of him, hatchet or not, Denny Lowe didn’t stand a chance. A lioness was lethal when her cubs were under threat.

“Well, unless he gets close and starts watchin’ with his own eyes, that’ll be difficult,” Sully said. “They dismantled the cameras, all of them, even the one on the street. I’m learnin’ the Feds do not fuck around and somehow they got an army to throw at this shit. Warren says taking the cameras offline is their own way of pressin’ a reaction, pissin’ him off, forcin’ a move.”

That was unfortunate. Colt liked the idea of standing in his open front door and kissing Feb good-bye before he went about his day. He’d take his time, he’d make it thorough, he’d get that moan in his mouth and he’d put his hands on her ass. He’d drive Denny Lowe over the next bend as Colt forced him to watch Colt stake claim to what was his, what Denny almost succeeded in taking away from him and what Colt got back. The man had a single synapse firing correctly in his brain, Colt wanted to obliterate it.

“Keep me posted,” Colt told Sully.

“One other thing, man,” Sully said hurriedly, “Feds want you to consider protective custody, for you and Feb.”

Colt didn’t like it, for him or Feb, meant her being pent up and him being disempowered, but he’d sure as fuck consider it.

“We’ll talk, I’ll let you know.”

“Later, Colt.”

“Later.”

Colt flipped his phone shut and Feb lifted her head, opening her mouth to speak.

“One second, baby,” he muttered on another squeeze at her hip.

He scrolled down his phone, found the number he was looking for, hit the button and put it to his ear.

“‘Lo?” Chip said after ring four. Colt had woken him.

“Chip, it’s Colt, sorry to wake you but this is urgent.”

“Everything okay?” Chip asked, trying to shake the sleep from his voice.

“I know it’s late and I know your schedule’s busy, but I need you to bump your other customers for a priority job, first thing in the mornin’.”

“What job?”

“My house and I want a recon of J&J’s. You think you need to, I want you to up the security there.”

“This have to do with all the shit I been hearin’?” Chip asked.

“Exactly that.”

“You and Feb safe?”

“Not by a long shot.”

Chip didn’t hesitate when he said, “Be there at seven.”

“Later.”

He flipped his phone shut and looked at Jackie then at Feb.

Feb was stuck in time, Colt knew it when she asked, “He thinks he’s you?”

“He’s whacked.”

“I know that, but he thinks he’s you?”

Colt smiled, he couldn’t help it, her face was hilarious. His choices were either to smile, laugh or get up and put his fist through a wall.

“Okay, Feb, he’s seriously whacked.”

“Got that right,” Jackie put in on a mumble.

He didn’t want them to dwell, either of them, which meant shutting this down. You didn’t talk about this shit in the dead of night when the demons could attack because you were vulnerable. You talked about this shit in the light of day when you had your defenses up and your mind could fight back.

“Time for bed,” Colt announced, curling to get up and taking Feb with him.

“I couldn’t sleep, no way I could sleep,” Feb said, sliding both her arms around him when they got to their feet.

He looked down at her and smiled again. “All right, honey, then you can watch me doin’ it.”

Her head jerked, the cloud over her face cleared, she was fighting back the demons, just as her brows drew together and she said, “Okay, you’re right, no more sharing. I give you the ammunition I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He curled his arms around her and gave her a squeeze, the smile never leaving his face. “You know I’m teasin’, baby.”

“I know and I like it now about as much as I liked it when I was eight and you and Morrie chased me around, waving frogs at me.”

That memory was so hilarious; Feb screaming like a lunatic and running so fast her hair flew out straight behind her, Colt felt the memory simmer inside him and he couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing. Jackie felt it too because she did the same.

“My girl, always hated frogs,” Jackie stated when she’d controlled her hilarity.

“That’s right, Mom,” Feb leveled her irate eyes at her mother, “I’m a girl therefore I hate frogs. I’d get kicked out of the girl club if I didn’t. Ask Maisie, she’s got the rules memorized.”

Jackie laughed again before her eyes moved to Colt. “February. Always been a scaredy cat. Can’t even watch scary movies.”

“Oh Lord,” Feb mumbled.

“Gotta say, Jackie, it’s probably good my woman can hold her shit together when a psycho is on the loose. Thinkin’ that’s more important than her bein’ able to watch Freddie Krueger invading high school kids’ dreams in a movie.”

“Oh no,” Feb whispered, her brows had separated but her eyes were now wide, “now I’m thinkin’ about Freddie Krueger.”

Colt gave her another squeeze. “I’ll keep you safe, honey.”

“You can’t!” she snapped. “He gets to you in your dreams!”

There it was again, it hit his gut like a rocket and Colt couldn’t stop from laughing so hard he couldn’t hold his head up doing it so he bent his neck and shoved his face in her neck.

If someone had told Colt anytime during that day he’d laugh or smile or do them more than once, he’d have told you that you were fucking crazy.

But there it was. Owens magic.

Feb thought he was golden? He couldn’t say he didn’t like that she thought that.

But she and her mother were something else, something that glimmered far brighter than gold. Something that made you believe there was a God but he didn’t make miracles. He created beings and gave them the power to make miracles, miracles both great and small.

The door bell jolted Colt awake. He looked to the clock, saw it was five to seven and slid out from under the dead weight of Feb that was pressed to his side.

Yanking on his jeans, t-shirt and grabbing his gun, he hit the hall then the living room and looked out the peephole to see Chip Judd standing on his front step.

He’d unlocked the door when Jack hit the room, his hair a mess, his jeans on, his chest bare and his hand curled around the butt of his revolver.

“It’s Chip, Jack. It’s cool, I called him.”

“Chip?” Jack asked.

“Go back to bed, it’s all good.”

Jack studied him with sleepy intensity for several seconds before he spoke.

“Don’t know what’s good, you callin’ the only boy in town who installs security systems and him bein’ here first thing in the mornin’,” Jack stated the obvious on a grumble then headed back down the hall, muttering, “fuck.”

Colt turned back to the door and opened it, nodding to Chip and stepping aside for him to enter but his eyes scanned the neighborhood. Chip’s van was parked on the street, no Audi in sight, no other movement. Street was waking up, half an hour it’d be alive, people heading to work. An hour after that, it would be napping again.