Bishop's Pawn Page 2

  “Was,” she reminded him. “We don’t have dinosaurs anymore.”

  He shrugged off her reasoning like any kid would. “But we have books and pictures. Can I watch Jurassic World?”

  “No!” she barked. “Enough with the dinosaurs. Eat your lunch, and then you can help me find a tree for Christmas.”

  My god. Jurassic World? No way. She watched it one night on a shitty DVD one of the guys at Shorty’s had to hand over when she beat his stupid raggedy ass at a game of pool. The movie scared the snot from her nose and gave her nightmares.

  Although… that guy, the actor, Chris what’s-his-name. He was kind of hot—if it mattered. Not that it did. She didn’t have time for messing around. Not with a wood pile that needed stacking or the small matter of the boarded up window in the mud room that absolutely had to be fixed before winter set in—the result of a tree limb crashing into the house during a violent spring storm.

  Matty’s mention of their friend Sam, the butcher, reminded her of the occasional forays into town and visits to Shorty’s Bar that were requirements if she wanted to continue flying under the radar. A lesson her foolish mother never learned. Her refusal to interact with the folks spread out around their small town only made people whisper and talk more.

  By the time Kelly was a young teenager, she was in charge of socially interacting with the neighbors. She made the dump runs to get rid of their trash, picked up the mail, dealt with the only local store and generally represented their notoriously private family, the product of Debbie James’ boneheaded and absolute refusal to be part of the world.

  As Matty chowed down on lunch, she picked at hers and glanced around. Restless eyes spied the calendar hung by the back door.

  December second. Ugh. Another year was coming to an end. A thousand details cramming into one month exploded in her head. She had orders to finish and mail to go out next week, and with some luck there’d be more interest in her work from people in the gift-giving mood.

  Thank god for the satellite dish they installed with the surprise inheritance she and Matty discovered after Debbie breathed her final breath. Plugging into the outside world changed everything for them. The ironic punch to the gut she felt was because her mother’s avoidance of human contact left them cut them off from life – a situation that ended the second they learned of the financial windfall. Thanks, Mom.

  Twenty-five thousand dollars might be nothing more than a drop in the ocean to people of privilege and means. But to a country girl raised on home canned food, who bought her clothes second-hand and who took the annual maximum on her hunting license, that kind of money was a life changer.

  Once the window was cracked and the Internet blew a hole in their off-the-beaten-path bubble, all things became possible. The breath of fresh air gave strength to her artistic flights of fancy, and she found an instant niche with her stained glass knick-knacks, nature jewelry and the quirky watercolors she used in her brand advertising and packaging.

  That’s right. K.A. James was a brand. Take that, life! She had plans. Plans for her and Matty that someday soon would mean they could leave Providence behind and strike out on their own into the big world. The world where she and Matty weren’t the illegitimate spawn of the man who destroyed their mother’s life and doomed them to an anonymous, forgotten hell. A new world where the past didn’t define the future.

  But pulling off such a monumental life change was all on her. This wasn’t the time to fake-make. Nope. The coming new year held nothing but hopes and dreams. If her mother had taught her anything, it was one simple fact. Never rely on anyone else for anything. People were undependable and mercurial. Today’s friend could easily become tomorrow’s foe. If she expected to succeed, then she had to put her back into it. Everything depended on her.

  An uncomfortable twinge, like a flutter, made her tummy quiver. Lately, her dreams of taking Matty and leaving had become curious and confusing. There were shadows of a person who she sometimes ran toward, and at other times ran from. It was weird and so unlike her. But one thing these dreams had in common was the feel of his hand and a deeply masculine voice saying, “Thank God I found you.”

  She didn’t know what it meant, but she did know that the dream-like sensation of sliding her small hand into his changed her in some way.

  “Hey, Kik,” Matty mumbled through a mouthful of meatball. “Did you get Bandit started?”

  She chuckled and made a face. “Darn tooting, I did!”

  He clapped excitedly and wiggled in his seat. “Yay! Then can we go to Fairy? I like the library.”

  “First young man, no talking with your mouth full. Remember? Talking at meals is important, but we have to mind our manners, okay?”

  Matty’s eyes glinted with impish delight. He was a good kid but had his moments like any preschooler.

  “And it’s Fairley. With an L. Fair…lee,” she enunciated with care.

  “Fairley,” he crowed. Her little brother’s happy giggle made Kelly smile. “Let’s look for a Franklin book at the library.”

  She nodded with a wink to let him know it was a good idea and thought of the wrapped Christmas present shoved in the back of her closet. Along with Internet access came the wide, wonderful world of Amazon. The mailbox at a UPS Store in the city that she used for K.A. James gave her easy access to package delivery. After scouring used book sites, she decided on a pile of hard copy story books. Matty was going to go bananas. Next to dinosaurs, his second great passion was books. The kid loved a good story. Something she knew well, since she’d been weaving fantastic bedtime tales for him since he was still in diapers. Verbal stories were fine but oh my lord. When she read to him from a book? He was mesmerized, so she made sure to get a story about a kid naming his dinosaurs.

  Her thoughts drifted as Matty chattered on. Once he got started, it was hard to reel him in. But only with her. When strangers were around, he went silent. She often wondered where he picked up the odd quirk. Maybe their mother? She wasn’t what you’d consider talkative.

  Not that Matty would know that about her. Or remember her very much. After all, he was a toddler when she died. And it wasn’t like Debbie had given two shits or a fart for her son. Or her daughter. No, that distinction was held by a single person. The nameless, faceless piece of dog dirt who fathered them.

  “And he said that’s the bestest spot to look. We have good trees, Kik!”

  What the hell was he chattering on about?

  “Sam says our gran let him cut his tree from anywhere on the mountain. He says Gran was a hooter. What’s a hooter?”

  Good grief. She had no idea. Sam was full of sayings and phrases that made no sense. Probably why Matty was drawn to the sweet old coot who was more grandfather than neighbor.

  Before she could respond, Matty changed the subject and off he went on another tangent leaving her to return in her silent musings to the sperm donor responsible for her and Matty.

  She wasn’t completely sure they shared the same DNA, but all the signs were there. Their coloring was different, but they had similar eyes, and there were other things. Clues left by their mother like a cringe-worthy breadcrumb trail that led to only one conclusion.

  Twice a year, Debbie would disappear for a handful of days. Like clockwork, Sam and his wife Ginny would either flat-out babysit her or, once she was old enough, keep an eye on things while her mom did whatever the hell it was that she did.

  Right about the time Kelly turned thirteen, her young teenage mind noticed a pattern. Every May and November Debbie became an anxious mess. Then she’d disappear for a few days. When she returned, there was never any explanation, but there was other stuff. Things like her mom’s new outfit and a haircut.

  And cash. There was always a pile of cash after one of these disappearing acts.

  Something ugly and painful swirled in her gut. Not because of the money. Who was she to judge if her mother was whoring herself out? Whatever it took to survive was sort of the family motto. What got her stomach roi
ling was the timing. Her birthday was in May. May eleventh to be exact. But she had not one memory of anything remotely birthday-like because Debbie was simply absent on the day.

  There was no way to explain how she knew this but she was certain that the man her mother spent a lifetime trying to make love her, the man who came before everything else, controlled Debbie James. And that control had strings. Strings the cruel son-of-a-bitch pulled to separate mother and daughter on the one day they were meant to share. It was like he made Debbie choose, over and over and over between his bi-annual attention and the daughter he disavowed.

  Asshole.

  Bitch.

  Determined to transform her birthday from a tragic slap in the face to something, anything, a bit more positive, on her nineteenth birthday she spent the day in Fairley at the old library taking her high school diploma exam. By then she was beyond sick and tired of the woods, the lack of a future and her mother’s poor pitiful unloved me bullshit. Figuring out how to grab the bull’s horn and take some control turned out to be easy. Knowledge was key. So was ability and she had a shit ton of the latter.

  She remembered the day with crystal clarity. Just because her mother was content to be used for some man’s sick, twisted pleasure didn’t mean she intended to walk the same path. Confident that she’d aced the test, Kelly drove Bandit through a McDonald’s for a happy meal she’d scraped enough change together to buy. The meal was nothing short of disgusting but the symbolic act made her feel normal and was a little reminder that she wasn’t totally without means.

  Life on the mountain was about working hard and getting the most out of what you had even if that meant making do with a whole lot of nothing. So while Debbie hid away in a fantasy world, Kelly did what she always did. Stepped up and in a big way.

  By the time she was old enough to count as fast as a grown-up, she’d been a regular at the farmer’s markets, church sales and seasonal fairs taking place all around Providence. If she could make it, bake it, can it, craft or draw it, she did, earning enough cash to help keep them afloat.

  Confident that she’d pulled off the high school equivalency test and full of carefully thought out plans she was certain her best days were just around the bend.

  Six weeks later she got her high school certificate in the mail.

  Three weeks after that, Debbie announced she was pregnant, and Kelly’s bright dreams instantly dimmed.

  Glancing at Matty, she felt instant soul-crushing guilt at remembering how angry and horrified she’d been before he arrived. At the time, all she knew was that her pathetic mother’s fucked up life choices once more required cleaning up.

  She hadn’t known then that managing her mother’s trail of stupidity would be a life-long job. Being presented with a little brother at the same time she was leaving her teens behind ended up being a godsend.

  The sound of a wood stool dragging on the floor brought her back from the musings running around in her brain. A small chuckle rolled in her throat as she watched her favorite guy clear the table and take their dishes to the sink.

  They were a good team, and not just because he was incredibly self-regulating for so young a kid. Matthew James was the Yin to her Yang. Or maybe it was the other way around. She shrugged. Whatever. Specifics didn’t matter. It was the point, not the semantics.

  When she was frazzled or worried, he was calm and pragmatic. And when he was upset or frightened, she rode in on her dragon-stead and slew his demons.

  Getting them out of the woods in time for Matty to start school in another year was the fuel to her fire these days. Everything she did, every plan she made, all of it was with just one thing in mind. She was going to do right by the little boy and give him a real life out in the world where he’d make wishes and dreams that were actually achievable.

  The woods and mountains where she grew up were where wishes and dreams went to die a slow, painful death. She didn’t want that for him.

  Which is where the dirty money they inherited came into the picture. It was Sam’s wife Ginny who filled in the blanks after Debbie suddenly dropped from a stroke and died on the spot. Yes, the money was from the man her mother refused to abandon. No, Ginny didn’t know his name. All she knew was that Debbie went to great lengths to keep her whereabouts a secret and that the twice-a-year trysts took place in New Orleans. She traveled by bus under a different name and was careful not to leave clues.

  The man was a wealthy businessman—which explained the money. The ultimate fuck off directed at Kelly by defiling her mother with clockwork precision on her actual birthday was all either of them needed to know when it came to judging the man’s character.

  She also divulged that the man was unaware of Matty’s birth. Debbie had traveled to meet him when six months pregnant, but something had happened in his life that changed things. Ginny wasn’t sure exactly what, but she got the impression from the way Debbie fretted that the man had been brought down by someone. Someone Debbie seemed a little afraid of.

  The visits ended after that and triggered her mother’s supersonic descent into poor health and becoming even more isolated if that were even possible.

  When Matty was sixteen months old, Debbie James went to meet her maker. From that moment on, Kelly was the only family and caregiver for her little brother.

  Matthew James. She couldn’t love him more if she tried.

  “Can we go find our Christmas tree now, Kiki?”

  Stooping to his level, she wrapped the man of the house in a warm hug, enjoyed the way he hugged her back and then kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you for doing the dishes,” she drawled while ruffling his hair. “And yes to the tree. I think we need a little Christmas magic don’t you?”

  He laughed. “Oh, Kik. You’re funny. You know if dinosaurs aren’t for real then magic isn’t either.”

  Damn. He was too smart sometimes.

  “Do you see real dinosaurs in here?” she asked with a tap on his head.

  His answering nod and kid-snicker were so him.

  “Well, I see magic in my head so…” she hesitated for emphasis, “real enough.”

  He looked at her long and hard, searching her expression with his wise, old soul gaze. “I want your magic to be real.”

  “And I want you to see a real dinosaur.”

  They smiled at each other and broke out the fist bump, shimmy, wiggle that was their private ritual.

  Christmas and New Year were careening toward them at high speed and she couldn’t be more thrilled. Certain that next year would change everything, she pushed aside the lingering heavy thoughts and concentrated on the future.

  Kelly and Matty James were on a roll. Look out world, ‘cause here we fucking come.

  “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You know how he is, Roman. Better than anyone.”

  He brought her in closer by moving the arm she held fast to and maneuvered them through the crowds moving swiftly along the city sidewalk. Rhiann Baron-Wilde was his favorite person-of-the-moment. He marveled at her unflagging do-gooder spirit, and thanked his lucky stars for Liam Ashforth’s unrequited passion for the wickedly charming young woman.

  She’d changed everything just by being Rhiann. Changed Liam’s life and Roman’s too.

  Covering her gloved hand with his big paw, he pressed on her fingers and sighed. “Deliberating is one thing, Rhi,” he murmured.

  She smiled at his use of the nickname reserved only for those she held closest. He was honored to be in that singular group.

  “But the hemming and hawing is ridiculous. It isn’t what I expected at all.”

  She dragged them to the edge of the walk and turned to examine a window display. In the reflection of the large glass panes, Roman saw a slight frown marring her lovely face.

  “It’s complicated.” She hugged his arm tighter and laid her head on his shoulder.

  He didn’t have to wonder what she meant. Liam Ashforth’s relationship with the concept of family was tenuous on his best day
. Denied by his father, all he ever knew were protective urges for his betrayed mother. When Carolyn Ashforth died, he’d been driven to seek revenge against Adam Ward. Not for himself, but for his wronged mom.

  And he’d succeeded without breaking a sweat. With barely any effort Liam anonymously broke apart and bought up parts of the man’s business empire until he owned him lock, stock and whiskey barrel. Everything that happened after that was karma and gave the old bastard a master class in getting what he deserved.

  The shocking discovery not all that long ago about the possibility of a half-sibling rocked Liam’s well-ordered world and came during a time when life seemed stuck in crisis mode.

  “He did okay at Thanksgiving. Don’t tell him I said this, but I was proud of how he handled the whole thing.” Roman wasn’t kidding either. Liam surprised the fuck out of him.

  Being dragged along to the Baron-Wilde traditional Thanksgiving was a direct result of his part in saving Rhiann’s life earlier in the year. There was nothing like a crazy employee going off the rails when it came to heart-pounding excitement. Stalking the boss’s girlfriend like she wrote the manual had only been the beginning. It took him, Liam and an entire SWAT team to resolve the matter. It wasn’t just Rhi who was lucky to be alive.

  Overnight, he and Liam became heroes to Rhi’s family, so he’d tagged along because Rhiann’s grandmother, the quirky matriarch of the clan Bryanna Charles, had insisted. And when a Broadway legend insists and does it with tremendous panache and flair, there isn’t enough wiggle room to decline.

  Thanksgiving with the Baron-Wildes turned out to be not just a good time but an occasion when a smart guy like him could clearly see the life changes coming everyone’s way. He’d thought a lot about that night and everything he learned just by paying attention. It was his training as an interrogator.

  Liam’s respect and admiration for Rhiann’s dad, the hilariously irreverent Professor Robert Wilde, was an eye-opener. In all the years he’d spent with Liam on a daily basis he’d never seen him defer to any other man. Ever. It was a trait Roman understood since he shared the same one. But when it came to the scholarly professor, his boss was almost on his knees like a drooling fanboy.