Disclaimers: Mine.

Sex: Yep.

Note: There will be violence in this story. Shouldnt be horribly gratuitous, but it is there.

If youd like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. If you have suggestions or corrections, please dont bother as thats the job of my publishers editor.

Come visit me at: www.officialaspfilms.com or my publisher at: www.pdpublishing.com

Awaken

by

Kim Pritekel

Part 1

Braxton Crowley sat in the College Center, legs tucked up under her and her text in her lap. She had her final in Anthropological Languages in thirty minutes. The college junior brushed long, blonde hair back over her shoulder and she tried to cram as much as she could. The night before she had been asked by her boyfriend, Andrew, to help him study. Needless to say, when she woke up early that morning naked, she realized they hadnt gotten much studying done.

Andrew Watson had been a smooth talker since the day Braxton had met him, almost three years before. Theyd met during the blondes third week at school. At that time, Andrew-then a sophomore-had been charming and extremely persuasive in his arguments on why the fresh faced Freshman should go out with him. Eventually hed worn down Braxtons defenses, and shed agreed.

Now, all this time later, she wasnt sure of the wisdom of that decision. She blinked red-rimmed green eyes several times, the exhaustion catching up with her. Andrew had been partying steadily over the past few weeks, and being the good girlfriend-and bad daughter to a father who was a preacher-Braxton had joined in the fun. The ting that made her most angry at herself was that she didnt even like to drink.

Hey.

Braxton turned to see her best friend, Jared sit in the chair next to hers. Hey, she said, grabbing the half-empty cup of mocha breve that shed picked up from Starbucks on her way in. The brew was now tepid, and she grimaced, wrinkling her nose. Blech.

Jared chuckled, taking the cup from her and walking over to the bank of microwaves in the corner and re-warmed the coffee. Here. Try again.

Grateful, Braxton took the cup and sipped, her eyes closing. Much, much better. Thank you.

No problem, Jared said, flopping down in the seat again. He studied her critically. He and Braxton were from the same hometown of Ivanwood, Colorado, a small mountain town in the Rockies. Theyd been best friends since third grade, each ecstatic when theyd found out theyd been accepted at the same college. You look like hell, Brax. Maybe you need to cut down on Romeo and concentrate more on classes.

I dont need a goddamn lecture, Jared, Braxton snapped, glaring angrily at the blonde man. She sighed, gathering her long hair into a ponytail. Im sorry. I dont feel so hot, and Im really angry at myself. I knew better than to go to Andrews last night. She sighed again and met her friends light blue eyes. Im really thinking of breaking up with him, Jared.

Jared nodded, doing a respectable job of hiding the giddiness he felt at those words. It wasnt just because hed been in love with Braxton since the fifth grade, but he knew that Andrew Watson wasnt good enough for Braxton. She was beautiful, so intelligent, and had a bright future. Andrews thoughts of the future ended with his next party. Ill be here for you if you need me.

Thanks. Braxton smiled and reached over to grasp her friends hand. He squeezed her fingers back, then gently slid his hand away.

Ill see you later. We still on for dinner tonight? he asked, looking down at the blonde after rising from his chair. I mean, today is the last of finals, and its always our tradition-

Of course were still on, Jared, Braxton scolded. She watched as her friend left her, chewing on bottom lip. Jared Milton was a good looking guy with dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His chiseled jaw and well-kept body had many compare him to either Brad Pitt or a young Robert Redford. Braxton knew girls swooned over him, and often wondered why she, herself didnt.

As much as he thought he was hiding it, Braxton knew that Jareds feelings toward her werent entirely those of a best friend. Accepting this, shed never let on that she knew. She valued Jared almost more than anyone in her life. A loner by nature, Braxton wasnt one to need or want to be surrounded by people all the time, and was beginning to feel more than suffocated by Andrew and his need for constant socializing.

Braxton glanced at her watch as she sipped from her drink, nearly choking on the breve when she saw what time it was. Tossing the cup into a nearby trashcan, she threw her book into her backpack and hurried off to class.

***

Braxton shared a house off campus with three other girls and Jared. The large two-story hosted five bedrooms-two on the first floor, three upstairs, a large kitchen, and an unfinished basement below. The blonde pulled into the driveway, her thirty-four year old Volkswagon Squareback, pumpkin orange. Braxtons small group of friends called it the Orange Bomb. The car may have been ugly, but it still ran well, and was roomy enough to give stranded roommates a ride.

The metal car door groaned just before it was slammed shut. Braxton felt lighter on her feet as she headed into the old house. She noticed that it needed to be painted, and wondered if the landlord would give them a break in the rent over the summer if they agreed to do the job. The thought didnt even get to fully process before her cell phone began to ring.

Flipping the little red phone open, Braxton put it to her ear. Hello?

Hey, baby. How did your finals go? Andrew asked. He sounded far away and distracted. Braxton could hear loud music in the background and laughter.

Wow, Andrew. Its not even three in the afternoon and youre already at Gus, huh? the blonde said dryly, heading into the house.

Nah. Damian wanted to play some pool, so were down here shooting. You coming tonight? he asked before someone got his attention. The phone was obviously covered as muffled voices could be heard. Braxton rolled her eyes, impatient for the call to end. Sorry. Anyway, you comin? Andrew asked again, back on the line.

Coming where? Braxton asked, jogging up the creaky staircase to her bedroom that was located on the second floor.

In my bed later, Andrew laughed, again, making his girlfriend roll her eyes. When there was no response to that, Andrew cleared his throat. Party, my place.

No, Andrew, Im not. Ive already got plans. Braxton tossed her weighed down backpack to the bed, watching as it bounced heavily, nearly falling to the hardwood floor below.

Cancel em. Andrew cut off Braxtons protests. Come on, Brax, he whined, I graduate in a week. This is to celebrate. You gotta be there. Come on



Braxton sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed. Alright, Andrew. Ill be there.

Yeah! Hey, could you pick up a keg on your way?

Braxton sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. Andrew-

Please? I promise, Ill never ask anything of you again. But I only got my little Mazda. You got room in that hearse you drive.

Braxton flopped back on the mattress. Alright, Andrew. Ill do it under one condition.

What?

I come home tonight, and dont have to stay long. Ive got a busy weekend, and need to get up early tomorrow, the blonde lied.

You got it, babe. Alright, cool. Ill see you at my place around nine, k?

At nine. Alright. Braxton slapped her phone shut, not returning Andrews profession of love. She had made up her mind during that phone call. This was it. Her last hurrah with Andrew. The thought almost left her giddy, excited to be out from underneath the demanding man for the first time in far too long. She blamed her weakness on her mothers own.

Margot and Fletcher Crowley had been married for more than twenty-five years, most of that Fletcher had been an abusive drunk. He got a clue in the past eight years and had gotten off the Jack Daniels, turning his fervor to God. Ordained five years ago, Fletcher Crowley was now one of the most outspoken men in Ivanwood, his fiery sermons a trademark.

Braxton remembered watching her mother cow beneath Fletchers hand her entire life, never understanding why Margot never had the courage to get out. Now look at me, Braxton muttered, staring up at her water-stained ceiling. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself off the bed and headed downstairs to break the news to Jared.

***

Jared picked at his dinner, anger making his jaw flex. He could feel Braxtons eyes on him, but he ignored them. Pushing his plate aside, he sipped from his soda and stared out over the restaurant.

Braxton felt the guilt gnawing at her, her own food merely pushed around the plate. Im sorry, Jared, she said again. I really wish you would try to understand.

Understand what? Jared asked, suddenly his eyes boring into hers. Understand that yet again that asshole gets you to turn your back on your friends? On the people who actually cares about you?

Dont do this, Braxton said quietly. She understood her friends anger, but she felt her own prickle at her spine. Andrew is my boyfriend, Jared. Not you. She knew it was low, but her own guilt and anger at herself made her lash out.

Jared stared down at his plate, his heart aching. He nodded, jaw clenched. Youre right. He threw his napkin onto the table and shoved back in his chair. You can start new traditions with your boyfriend, and piss on three years of tradition with your friends. With those final words, and a few bills tossed atop his napkin, Jared stormed out of the restaurant.

Damn, she sighed. Jared hadnt even given her a chance to tell him the good news of her decision regarding Andrew. Deciding that her appetite was gone, she paid the bill and left, deciding to go get the keg and hit Andrews party early. The earlier she got there, the earlier she could leave.

***

Braxton sat in her car, seatbelt still firmly in place. She could smell what she called the  Volkswagon smell. It was like a school bus-all vinyl seats and musty air, no matter that she had wiped the entire interior down with Clorox wipes earlier that day. She tapped the steering wheel with impatient fingers, jaws working as she tried to decide what to do.

Parked at the curb in front of the house Andrew shared with his friend, Damian. Every light was on in the small, ranch-style house, and loud music could already be heard pumping through the open windows. Braxton glanced across the street at the house where old man Davis lived, wondering how long it would take before he called the cops. The sad part was the party hadnt even started yet.

The blonde grabbed her cell phone and quickly dialed her boyfriends number. At his answer she spoke, Come out here and get this keg out of my car. I cant lift it by myself. With that, she slapped the phone closed and waited. Within a few moments the front door opened and Andrew, wearing only a pair of jeans, his bare chest pale in the darkness, trotted across the weed-riddled front lawn.

Hey, baby, he said, leaning in through the rolled down drivers side window and taking Braxton in a deep, sloppy kiss. She could taste the alcohol already on his breath and cringed.

Within ten minutes, the keg was placed safely inside on the table next to an impressive collection of bottles of various shapes and sizes. The furniture-as threadbare as it was-had been moved out of the room to make room for the guests to mill about, dance, drink, and whatever else they might do.

Braxton was in the kitchen helping Damian make platters of snacks. She actually liked the dark-skinned man. His bald head glistened under the intense lighting in the small space. He was tall, more than a foot taller than she was, good humored and sweet. It was too bad he got so aggressive when he was drinking. He and Andrew were both graduating, though for Braxtons boyfriend it had been by the skin of his teeth. Damian, a highly intelligent man who had managed to earn honors even with his busy social life, already had a job waiting for him in a Detroit plant working in middle management. Andrew, well, no body knew what hed do after graduation.

You know, Damian said, as though he had read Braxtons thoughts. I think for Andy its gonna be like some bad John Hughes, Joel Schumacher film. You know, Billy from St. Elmos Fire or something. The big man glanced up to make sure his friend wasnt anywhere near. He has no drive, no ambition, and I really wonder exactly how he plans on paying back all those student loans hes taken out over the past four years.

Braxton stopped slicing the block of sharp cheddar, hand resting on the counter. Damian, I need your advice.

Sure, Brax, whats up?

Well, Braxton said softly, you kind of delved into my thoughts with your little speech. She met Damians grin before continuing. How pissed do you think hell be if I break up with him tonight?

Damian took a step back from the Styrofoam cooler he had been pouring ice into. Whistling through his teeth, he shook his head. Bout time, Braxton. I love the brother, you know that, but I always thought you were too good for him. Hes gonna be pissed as hell, but I think its for the best. I mean, come on, hes graduating and doesnt seem to have a whole helluva lot going for him. Youre heading into your senior year now, and have the whole world ahead of you. He eyed her. You know?

Braxton nodded. She turned to the darker man, placing an arm on a massive forearm. D, kind of keep an eye on me tonight, okay? I dont want any trouble.

Damian smiled with a nod. You got it.

***

Braxton sat in a corner, a plastic cup of beer in her hand. She sipped it from time to time, watching, glancing at the clock far too many times. Shed tried to get Andrews attention, to get him alone, but he was far too drunk already to listen to what she had to say. Besides, she knew when he was drinking, he had a temper.

She took a sip of the room temperature beer then sighed. Shed had enough. She could be at home with her roommates right now, or could still be spending her evening with Jared.

Pushing to her feet, Braxton dropped the plastic cup in a nearby trash can and then started the hunt for her messenger bag. She just knew she should have left them in the car, pocketing her keys. Shouldering her way through the crowd, she found her way to Andrews bedroom, where she thought she remembered him heading with her bag. The door was closed, but she didnt bother knocking. Likely he was outside smoking weed with his friends, as she hadnt seen him anywhere else in the house.

The room smelled of stale sweat, and new sex. Thats when Braxton saw it: over by the window, the shirtless body of Andrew, jeans unbuttoned and down around his thighs, was receiving a very spirited blowjob from some blonde. Andrews eyes were closed, his head thrown back, brown hair falling limply away from his head.

Braxton wasnt sure what she felt in that moment. Perhaps a tiny amount of jealousy. Anger, for sure, and probably a bit of relief. She noticed her bag lying on the bed, and quickly grabbed it. Andrew didnt even turn to see who was in the room until the door was nearly closed. Braxton heard her name called, but didnt bother stopping, instead making her way back through the house toward the front door. She craved the fresh, late spring air in her lungs and on her face.

As she hurried across the street, making way for a speeding truck, she reached the Orange Bomb. The sound of running bare feet met her ears, then a hand on her shoulder.

Brax, wait, Andrew panted, exertion of his impromptu sprint leaving him breathless.

Braxton turned around, noticing that his pants had been pulled up but were still unbuttoned. He followed her gaze, hurriedly buttoning them. At least you have the decency to look embarrassed, she told him, sticking her key into the lock of the drivers side door.

Wait, Im sorry. That was dumb. Look, it just happened, okay? he said, placing a large hand on the window of the drivers door, keeping the blonde from pulling it open. She batted his arm aside, tugging the squeaking door open. She looked at him.

You did me a favor, Andrew. I was going to break up with you tonight, but figured you were too drunk to even know what I was telling you.

What? Why were you gonna break up with me? he whined.

Braxton looked at him, incredulous. Youre kidding, right? She turned to face him full on. You let some chick give you head, Andrew! That was just the cherry on this very messed up sundae. She turned back to her car, then stopped before sliding in. You owe me fifty bucks for the keg.

Andrew had to jump back or get nailed by the sharp edge of the door. He watched as the orange station wagon sputtered to life, then prattled down the dark street.

***

Jared growled as yet again his character died against the evil, and extremely powerful monster, Gaenith. Bastard, he muttered, finding himself at the Game Over screen. He hit the reset button and waited for the video game to go through its opening sequences, taking the time to get himself another glass of Mountain Dew. As he tossed a couple ice cubes into the red plastic glass with Coca Cola written across it in bold, white lettering, the house phone began to ring.

Grabbing the hand piece, the blonde man held the phone between ear and shoulder as he finished making his drink. Lo?

Hey. Its me.

Jared felt his jaw clench for a moment, setting the green, two liter bottle on the scarred counter top. Yes, Braxton?

I know youre mad at me, Jared, but I need to talk.

Of course you do, Jared said, taking a sip from his drink before returning the soda to the fridge. Undoubtedly that asshole hurt you. Again.

Yeah. I caught him getting blown by some bimbo, Braxton said, her voice quiet, thick from emotion.

Shocking, Jared said dryly, heading back to the living room where the game awaited his direction.

Jared, please. I need you, but dont need your comments, the blonde pleaded on the other end of the line.

Of course you do. Just like you have every goddamn day for the past year and a half. Just like you have every time youve stood me or your other friends up for that piece of crap. Just like you have-

Damn it, Jared! Cant you just be my friend? I dont need a lecture. Braxton sounded like she was on the verge of tears, which made Jared even angrier. He felt she kept setting herself up for this hurt time and time again, regardless of just how often Andrew Watson showed his true colors. He was tired of it. Tired of listening, being the constant shoulder his friend cried on, yet she never listened to him, or to anyone else that told her to drop the loser.

Braxton, Im in the middle of my game. Ill talk to you later.

Jared, please. I really need to talk-

Later, Brax. Jared felt a stab of guilt as he hit the END button on the phone, tossing the cordless to the couch cushion next to him. The ironic thing was, he really wasnt sure who was more the fool-Braxton for going out with that asshole who constantly used her, or if he, himself were the bigger asshole because he felt Braxton used him constantly. That wasnt true, he admitted bitterly. Braxton was a good friend and had gotten him through more crap than anyone.

As he settled in for round two on his video game, Jared had to finally admit that nothing would ever happen between him and Braxton. He glanced guiltily at the phone, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to decide if he should call the blonde back or not. Deciding that he was still too angry, he turned back to his game.

***

Braxton felt a sob come to her throat as she slapped her phone shut and tossed it to the passenger seat of the old car. Bringing a hand up, she swiped at her eyes. She was tired of crying, the source of which was usually Andrew. She was hurt by the phone call with Jared. Never had he been like that with her before. She was stunned, and tried to wrap her mind around what had caused it.

It was no secret that her best friend didnt like Andrew, and for a multitude of reasons. Even so, never had he turned his back on her so completely. Okay, so shed made a mistake! She got that. Braxton banged her hand against the steering wheel to coincide with her angry thoughts. Everyone made a mistake. Even the perfect Jared.

What about Rhonda, Jared? she asked the empty car and dark, empty night around her. The blonde man had made more than one mistake where women were concerned, and had his heart broken many times because of it. Why was she so different? Why wasnt she allowed to make her own mistakes?

More tears began to fall as Braxton studied the night around her. When Jared had essentially hung up on her, she had taken an old dirt road, which she wasnt even entirely sure what it led. All she knew for sure what that she needed some time along to think.

The scenery flew by, the rough, rutted road beneath the Volkswagons tires making the car lurch now and then. Braxton hung onto the wheel with both hands to maintain control. She was surrounded by fields on all sides, though she couldnt even begin to know what was being grown. A ditch ran along the road to the left, a slight embankment on the right. She wiped away a few more tears, allowing her mind to wander over every aspect of her life.

Growing up in Ivanwood, she had felt she had very few choices-either marry a farmer, or become a librarian. Neither appealed, so she had worked as hard as she could, earning a scholarship and a ticket out of town. Initially her father wasnt going to allow her to take the scholarship, as it was to a secular school, but eventually she had convinced him. The price of her escape was to come back to Ivanwood after graduation, and settle down. She knew that he hoped being exposed to the wild ways of college life would scare her into marriage. He had been sadly mistaken.

For Braxton, the thought of living her mothers life scared her more than a bunch of drunk coeds. Her mother had done nothing, seen nothing, made no impression in life whatsoever. If not for her daughter, the day Margot Crowley died, the world would forget that she had existed. Braxton refused to be such a ghost. She had dreams, expectations of life and of herself.

Even still, the last three years hadnt shown that very well. Yes, she did well in school-up until this past semester, that is. But still, she kept to herself, dating a guy who treated her little better than her father treated her mother. She belonged too no clubs, had very few trusted friends, and essentially was a wall flower. Now, heading into her senior year after the summer, she had one more year to prove herself, one more year to make a life for herself and save herself from having to go back to Ivanwood.

Braxton felt more tears well up in her eyes, impatient as she swiped at them. She hated to cry. Bringing up her shoulder, she turned her head to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her t-shirt. Turning back to the road, Braxton cursed as something flashed before the headlights in the blackness of the countryside.

No time to think, she swerved hard left to miss the creature, which looked like maybe a cat. The dirt and rocks made her skid, and she saw that she was headed for the ditch. Yanking the wheel hard right, the car shuddered in that direction, hitting the embankment at incredible speed, sending the orange car air-born. Braxton held her breath, for a breathless moment feeling like she was in the Millennium Falcon, headed off into hyperspace as the car seemed to head for the stars. Soon enough the nose pointed back down to earth.

The car landed on the front right fender, sending the car into a violent roll, right front fender to back left fender, and back again, twisting just enough on the last roll to its side, where it began to roll again. The silence of the night was interrupted by the sound of crunching metal, exploding glass, and then a dull thump as a body landed in the middle of the field.

Braxton lay on her back, staring up into those very same hyperspace stars. For the split second that she looked, her thoughts took her to another time in another place. She and Jared had lain on her trampoline back home, staring up in the night sky:

What do you think its like to die? Jared asked, head slightly tilted to the side, nearly touching his best friends, who lay not a foot away.

I dont know, the 16 year old blonde girl said. Maybe you fly amongst the stars. Her voice was wistful.

You dont think you go to Heaven? the young man asked softly, glancing over at the profile of his friend.

Braxton thought for a moment before she gently shook her head to the side. Not my fathers Heaven, no.

A tear leaked out of the corner of Braxtons left eye, her broken body no longer feeling the warm breeze of the late April night. No air entered her lungs, everything seeming to still, so silent, so peaceful.

The tear began to dry as Braxtons vision began to fade, the stars dimming until they winked out. She no longer felt the cold ground underneath her, the vegetation once itchy against her back. She could no longer hear the crickets begin anew, nor the creaking of the settling car fifty yards away. The smell of raw plant life disappeared from her nostrils. She could no longer taste the blood in her mouth.

As the senses disappeared, Braxton felt as though shed become a giant nerve center, everything sensed on a plane she could never understand, as she was enveloped by, what once she may have described as a golden light, but could not be described by such simple terms. The light enveloped her, filled her, drove her. The knowledge and intelligence of the world filled the being shed become. A sense of peace, belonging and understanding.

Reveling in the wonder of it all, she failed to realize she was being watched, judged and protected. A choice. She knew she had a choice, but had no idea what the options or answers were. Filled with a deep, profound understanding, the light began to fade until with a rush the star-filled sky winked overhead. The ground came up from nowhere, pounding into the broken body. Braxton gasped as the blood covering her face chilled her skin from the night breeze. She smelled her own mortality, coppery and thick, upon the breeze.

What was the very tip of pain poked her, and before she could respond, once again the ground receded, taking the night with it. She felt light, no more than air. The breeze blowing against her, almost as if it could blow her across the field and send her on a journey home.

Braxton blinked down at herself, rising higher and higher. She saw the twisted arms that once she used to throw a mean football. She saw her left leg tucked up under her right knee. Her face was a roadmap of bloody cuts. Glass and blood clumped her hair, nearly slicking it to her skull.

I want to cry.

Braxton closed her eyes, raising her face to the stars above, offering herself to their ancient mercy.

Part 2

I tell ya, Jim. That was the most awful racket Ive ever heard. Billy Alvarez sat next to Officer Jim Stone in his patrol car, the cruiser making slow progress over the rough, dirt road.

You sure this the area you heard it? the young officer said, shining his spotlight over the alfalfa fields, seeing nothing more than abundant crop.

Wait, Billy said in lieu of an answer. Look at them tracks. He indicated the obvious tracks in the dirt road shown in the twin beams of the cars headlights. Whistling between his teeth, he turned the spotlight toward the right. Look at that.

Officer Stone grabbed the radio for dispatch, not taking his eyes off the crumpled orange mass out in the field. Dispatch, this is 273. Weve spotted something. Will check it out and call back.

Ten-four, Jim, came the tinny response through the speaker.

***

The night was exceptionally dark as the moon was hidden behind the gathering clouds. A soft breeze blew in through the open windows, fanning the sheer curtains away from the frame. A few bugs smacked against the screen before heading on their way, looking for another way in.

Soft, easy breathing filled the room, a slight snort splitting the otherwise quiet house. Jared was splayed out on his stomach, legs spread wide apart in an unconscious attempt to get cooler air between his thighs. His hands were tucked under the pillow his head lay upon. The bedside alarm clock red 3:22 a.m. in blood-red numbers.

A loud snort barked out at the shrill sound of Phantom of the Operas Masquerade split the night. Jareds head shot up, bleary blue eyes blinking to wakefulness. With a heavy breath, he reached across and grabbed his cell phone, which hed forgotten to turn off. He opened it, muttering something that sounded almost like hello into the tiny mouthpiece. As the smooth voice spoke on the other end, he slowly turned over to his back and then shot up as the news penetrated.

Yes, I know her. He listened. What? Heart racing, he shoved the sheet off his naked body and padded around the dark bedroom, swallowing a groan as he stubbed his toe on the dresser in the corner. Okay. Right. Ill make the call. Thank you, Officer.

Tossing the phone to the bed, he dressed then headed into the hall, glancing into the bedroom across from his. The door was closed, which for a split second made his heart resume its normal cadence. Finding the room beyond empty and the bed un-slept in nearly made him sob.

Racing down the stairs, he banged on his roommates bedroom doors until the entire household was awake. Jared didnt allow himself to think as he sprinted back up the stairs and grabbed his car keys and cell phone, he pounded back down and out the front door, the screen slamming two more times behind him as Lydia and Carrie followed. Their other roomy, Alicia was spending the night with her boyfriend. Jared didnt call her cell, not even wanting to think about what hed likely be interrupting with the sexually volatile pair.

The drive to the hospital was made in perfect silence, everyone either not fully awake, or terrified to speak the possible. The officer hadnt given Jared much in way of details on the phone, just simply making sure that Braxton Crowley did in fact live at that address-Jareds name and phone number listed as an emergency contact in the blondes wallet. He also advised that the girl had been taken to Mercy Medical, but had no details on her status.

Carrie sat in the front seat of Jareds car. She stared out the window at the empty street, chewing on her bottom lip. The silence between the three of them had become more acute when the Orange Bomb proved to not be in the driveway. The redhead glanced over at her roommate, and Braxtons best friend her shaggy hair dipped into hazel eyes.

What happened? she finally asked, her quiet question seeming shrill in the silence of the car.

Jared shook his head, never taking his eyes from the road. He could feel the sting of emotion behind them. I dont know. He didnt say.

But it is Brax?

Apparently, Carrie. How else did the police get my number? His voice was clipped and harsh from his profound worry and sorrow. He couldnt think about that right now. He needed to find out what had happened.

Carrie turned back to the window.

***

Dyson Kibb whistled lightly as the sun came over the horizon, spreading oranges, pinks and yellows across the open sky. He ignored the sunrise as he worked. His tow truck had backed into the field, his rig set to draw the heap onto the long flatbed of his truck. Hed been warned when the call had come in, but nothing had prepared him for what he saw when he arrived. The damage done to the car was nothing less than looking like a bomb had gone off inside it. A tin can likely would have faired better than the Volks.

The country tune in his head continued to be vented through his shrill, seemingly tuneless whistling. Dyson let out one long whistle when he caught sight of the windshield. The entire portion in front of the passenger side was gone, jagged shards clinging to the orange frame. But what caught his eye was the remaining piece in front of the drivers side. A nearly perfect hole was punched through, just barely big enough for a child to go through. The jagged edges were bloody with a few spider web tendrils of blood spreading out.

Christ, he whispered. He hadnt heard about the driver, the body long gone. He had no idea if they lived or were dead, which he figured was fairly likely. Crying shame, he muttered, resuming his whistled song.

***

Green eyes blinked open, then blinked several times. An up close and personal view of an ant met the focused gaze. Braxton pushed herself away, her phobia of the tiny, sectioned creatures overruling her confusion. On her knees, she eyed the insect with disgust, relieved as it scurried away. Raising her eyes, she took in her surroundings. She found herself lying on the deep, rich soil of a forest. Trees, as tall as the eye could see, surrounded her, like proud sentinels. The braches were raised to the heavens far above, peppered with rich, green leaves.

Turning, Braxton cried out in surprise when she saw a little girl, no older than five or six, sitting on a fallen log. The girls light brown hair was a mass of tangled locks on her head. She didnt seem to mind as piercing blue eyes studied the blonde. A dirt-smudged finger played at the girls lips, matching the smudges on her cheeks. Her dress looking as though it had been fashioned out of a burlap sack, her feet bare.

Completely confused, Braxton slowly got to her feet, grunting slightly with the effort. Her body was intensely sore, feeling as though shed been running a marathon for ten days straight. She turned in a small circle, taking in the trees, then noticing a small, shack-like structure just beyond the trees. The smell of smoke filled Braxtons nostrils. Turning back to the little girl, she was startled as the child jumped up from her perch and ran toward the house, glancing over her shoulder before disappearing into the trees.

Where the hell am I? She looked down at herself, gasping aloud when she saw the she was naked. Oh my god, she whispered, looking around desperately for something to cover herself with. Finding nothing but leaves, and not exactly feeling like Eve today, she sighed. Shit.

Low humming could be heard coming from the small house. Frantic now, Braxton looked around, finally hiding behind a tree. She could feel the rough bark against her skin as she peered around the thick trunk. A portly woman made her way through the woods toward the small clearing where Braxton had found herself sprawled on the ground.

Come on out, child, the older woman said, her voice soft yet firm, as she neared. Dark eyes scanned the area.

Braxton wasnt sure if the woman was speaking to her or someone else. Her eyes flicked to the womans hands, seeing a bundle of material folded over the womans arm. It looked like a dress.

Come out. Ive got something for you to put on. Cant let you catch your death. Not yet, anyway. The older woman stood at the center of the clearing, almost in the exact spot where Braxton had lain. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, bound on top of her head. Her full face made her eyes crinkle, seeming even more friendly than the twinkle would make them.

Braxton stuck her head out from behind the tree. Um. Hello, she said, feeling shy and extremely vulnerable.

Oh, there you are! She hurried over to Braxton, taking the material off her arm and holding it up against the blondes petit frame. May need a little altering, but overall, I think itll do nicely, the woman muttered, eyeing the dress with a critical, yet practiced eye. Here, lets get you dressed.

Braxton was lost in a blur of activity as the portly woman had her dressed in record time. She felt a sense of panic as her confusion leapt to the surface of her thoughts again. Where am I? she asked, near panic.

The woman smiled up at her with the reassurance of a mother, easing Braxtons fear. Come, child. Get settled and warm, then youll be shown.

***

Jared tried to readjust his butt in the incredibly uncomfortable plastic chair without disturbing the two girls who decided his shoulders were the perfect pillows. Sighing, he tightened his arms around Carrie and Lydias shoulders. He knew that they were both leaning him-literally and figuratively-because he was the only guy. He didnt mind being their champion, as hed certainly done it enough. But sometimes he needed someone to tell him everything would be okay.

Glancing at the clock above the nurses desk he knew the sun would be rising soon. Sighing again, he wondered who long it would take Margot and Fletcher Crowley to arrive. He knew Margot would be hysterical, and undoubtedly the good Reverend would be as impassive as ever.

Excuse me,

Jareds attention was drawn to a woman standing in front of him, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She was dressed in light pink scrubs, a hospital badge clipped to the shirt. I know youve been sitting her for awhile. Figured you might need this. She offered the cup to him with a smile.

Thanks. Jared managed to gently tip Lydias head over against the wall to free one of his arms. He adjusted his shoulder and near dead arm gratefully. Taking the cup he sipped. The hot fluid felt good to warm his chilled soul. Any news? he asked the pretty nurse. She shook her head, dark, unruly curls bouncing in her eyes at the movement.

Not yet. Ill let you know as soon as I know something.

Thanks, Nurse. I appreciate that. He gave her a smile then sipped from the cup again as she walked away. Resting his cheek against Carries head, Jared stared at the TV mounted in the corner, no clue what infomercial was playing. Looked like something for skin care. Ignoring the muted program, he allowed his mind to wander, finally punishing himself.

Over and over again he heard Braxtons desperate pleas for him to listen to her and to be there for her. He felt the sting behind his baby blues as the conversation came back to him:

Hey. Its me.

Jared felt his jaw clench for a moment, setting the green, two liter bottle on the scarred counter top. Yes, Braxton?

I know youre mad at me, Jared, but I need to talk.

Of course you do, Jared said, taking a sip from his drink before returning the soda to the fridge. Undoubtedly that asshole hurt you. Again.

Yeah. I caught him getting blown by some bimbo, Braxton said, her voice quiet, thick from emotion.

Shocking, Jared said dryly, heading back to the living room where the game awaited his direction.

Jared, please. I need you, but dont need your comments, the blonde pleaded on the other end of the line.

Of course you do. Just like you have every goddamn day for the past year and a half. Just like you have every time youve stood me or your other friends up for that piece of crap. Just like you have-

Damn it, Jared! Cant you just be my friend? I dont need a lecture. Braxton sounded like she was on the verge of tears, which made Jared even angrier. He felt she kept setting herself up for this hurt time and time again, regardless of just how often Andrew Watson showed his true colors. He was tired of it. Tired of listening, being the constant shoulder his friend cried on, yet she never listened to him, or to anyone else that told her to drop the loser.

Braxton, Im in the middle of my game. Ill talk to you later.

Jared, please. I really need to talk-

Later, Brax.

He raised his head from Carries, easing himself away from her. She mumbled in protest then fell back into a deep sleep, curling her short body up in the chair. Jared glanced down at her as he stood, noting with a small smile that she looked like a little girl, tucking her hands beneath her chin. Stepping away from the bank of chairs, he sipped his coffee, his free hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans. He watched as an ambulance flew by the tinted glass doors of the ER lobby entrance. Immediately his thoughts went to Braxton.

Theyd been cooling their heels in the hard chairs for more than two hours with no word. It was the longest two hours of his life. Jared saw the face of his best friend flash before his eyes-golden hair like a halo when the sun caught it just right. Her eyes, always twinkling, and seeming to be filled with a mischief that made him grin, even as he stood in the cold, sterile hospital.

Once again his thoughts turned to the phone call from hours ago. Could he have prevented this tragedy if hed talked to her? Maybe told her to stop on the side of the road, let him come get her. Or maybe they couldve gone to that all night diner where they usually had their serious talks.

Damn it, he said, choking on the words as the tears finally came. He was tired of being strong for Carrie and Lydia. Let them lean on each other for once. Setting the Styrofoam cup on a nearby end table, Jared buried his face in his hands, sinking to the closest chair to him. His sobs were guttural and profound. He had no idea what hed do if he lost Braxton, especially if he could have prevented it.

***

The small structure was made of logs with a rock base for support. The yard was nothing more than earth and weeds and wild grasses. Braxton was ushered inside, where a fire warmed the small interior, which was as basic as four walls, a rough table with four chairs, and boards lining one wall, which held utensils, dishes and mugs.

Sit, sit, the woman insisted, pushing at Braxtons shoulders.

The blonde did as she was told, looking around even more confused than ever. She saw a doorway which led to another part of the shack. Her brow drew, as she knew from the size of the building outside, there was no way another room could exist. Voices brought her attention back to the only outside door of the shack. The little girl ran in, her glance briefly finding Braxton before she scurried through the adjoining doorway. A taller woman had entered behind her.

Braxton stared up at her, hands resting politely in her lap. The woman had long, dark hair, which was windblown and disheveled. She wore pants that looked to be made of some sort of animal skin, medium brown in color, large x-shaped stitches for seams along the legs. The top was nothing more than a tunic with long sleeves. It reminded Braxton of clothing shed seen Native Americans wearing in pictures. No moccasins were on her feet, however, instead the pants were tucked into knee-high black boots, which were covered in mud and dust. A sword was tucked into a backhanger, the grip and pummel of the sword visible over her right shoulder.

The woman stopped on the other side of the table, looking at Braxton with a critical eye, her blue eyes intense and penetrating. Braxton fought the urge to squirm in her seat.

What do you remember? the woman asked.

I remember waking in the forest. That little girl, she said pointing toward the doorway the five year old had disappeared through, sitting on a log, watching me.

The woman sighed with a nod. Feared as much. Without another word, she headed through the doorway, returning within a few moments. Braxton started as a heap of clothing was tossed into her lap. That dress wont do. Hurry and change. We need to get going.

Going? Braxton said, pushing to her feet and following quickly behind the brunette, who stopped suddenly in the doorway of the other room. She rounded on Braxton, dark brows drawn in irritation.

I said change. With that, she headed through the doorway, a door slamming solidly in Braxtons face.

She turned back to the main room of the shack, eyeing the clothing which had fallen to the floor in her haste to follow. I swear Ive fallen through the rabbit hole, she murmured, though had no idea from where. She did know that she did not belong here.

Quickly stripping from the dress, she pulled on breeches that were ill-fitting and of a rough material, that felt very much like the same burlap sack the girls dress had been made of. The shirt wasnt much better. The stitches were uneven and large, made of a thick thread. The entire outfit was the color of muddy water. She glanced up in just enough time to see the door open once more, just enough for a pair of boots to be thrown out, landing at her feet.

Dressed, Braxton resumed her seat, again her hands folded in her lap. She looked around the room, taking in more. In some ways it looked like the room hadnt been touched for years-dust covered everything, a few cobwebs hung in the corners. The fireplace was spotless, save for the wood that had burned to ash since shed been sitting at the table. Yet, on the flip side of that thought, she would swear people had inhabited the shack since the day it was built. The atmosphere was comfortable and warm, and she swore she smelled homemade bread and stew, though nothing filled the iron pot sitting on the fires hearth, nor was there any semblance of food stuffs on the shelves.

She listened, not hearing anything from either outside, or the other mysterious room. No little girl giggling or laughing. No older woman barking out orders or giving loving kisses. No young woman. Rising from the chair, Braxton eyed the plank door, chewing on her lower lip, unsure. The doorknob was no more than a foot away, and she saw her hand come into her sight, about to grab hold when the door flew open.

Braxton started, looking up at the tall woman who glared down at her.

Yes? the brunette asked, voice hard, impatient.

I, uh, well, I was just wondering

 Braxton could only stare, her words trailing off at the hardness in the blue eyes that studied her. Where the hell am I? Who are you people, and why am I sitting here?

the woman closed the door securely behind her, tossing a small smile down at the blonde. Impatient, arent you? She lifted her head, sniffing the air. Hungry?

I

I dont know. Im just really confused. Braxton wasnt sure whether to laugh or cry at her predicament. She felt like she were stuck in a really bizarre dream, but knew full well she was awake.

Well get going soon, the woman said, turning her attention back to Braxton. Gather our gear to the barn, she said, nodding toward a corner next to the door. Braxton followed her gaze and gasped at the pile of supplies she saw, certain they hadnt been there a few moments before. Ill meet you out there in a couple minutes.

Alright, Braxton said, feeling like she must be on a bad trip or something. She was brought out of her reverie when the door slammed once more, and she was again left alone.

Walking over to the supplies, she saw two bedrolls, a large, leather satchel filled with two wooden mugs, plates and utensils, as well as an iron pot. She saw another pouch filled with small bundles filled with something she couldnt identify-they were soft, a few squishy. What the hell? she muttered, but then remembered what shed been asked to do, quickly gathered everything, grunting under the weight as she stood and headed back outside.

The air outside was warm, the breeze calm. A large structure sat to the left of the shack, the thatched roof meeting at a strict ridge. One side of the two were open, allowing Braxton to hurrying inside, her arms burning with the effort of her burden. Setting it all down, she looked around the shadowing building. The only light was what came in from the open door, as well as the cracks and slits in the boards which made up the building.

Two horse stalls were tucked into the left, the right held stacked bales of hay and equipment for the care of horses was hung on the plank walls. Only one stall was filled, the huge, black creature within beautiful. He stared at the blonde, making soft noises in his throat at the newcomer.

Hey, Braxton said softly, walking over to him. He was one of the biggest horses shed ever seen, but almost the most beautiful. Suddenly she knew she had grown up around horses, but didnt know why or where.

Thats Black Jack, came the soft voice from behind her. Braxton turned and saw the tall woman entering the barn, a saddle in her hands. Move so I can get him ready to go.

Braxton backed away, watching.

***

Jared honestly didnt think he could get any more exhausted than he already was, but as the hours had dragged on, he felt almost nauseous. Of course, emotional exhaustion was even worse than physical. His eyes were red-rimmed, nose felt like two days of a nasty cold. It was pushing seven a.m., and his stomach had begun to growl.

Jesus. I feel like Ive been hit by a truck, Carrie muttered, pushing herself painfully up from her folded position on the chair. Her back cracked as she stood, stretching her arms high above her head. After a loud yawn, she glanced around, noting Lydia sitting quietly in another chair, reading a magazine, and then Jared standing before her, hands shoved into this pockets. Anything?

Not yet, Jared said, sounding more dejected than he meant to.

Lets get some breakfast, Lydia said, joining her roommates, looking from Jared’s tortured blue eyes to Carries tired hazel ones.

Jared shook his head. You guys go ahead. Im staying here.

Carrie patted his stomach. Well bring you something. She walked over to her friend, roommate and sometime lover, the two women heading off deeper into the hospital.

Jared walked over to the vending machine that sold various cans of soda and bottled water. Digging in his pockets, he found a crumpled dollar, easing it into the mechanized changer, listening to the hum then the sound of his single quarter change hitting the metal cap. He made his choice, the can of Dr Pepper tumbling to the plastic tray.

The sun was up, the sky already a bright blue as Jared walked over to the windows, staring out at the busy day. Hospitals, he realized, were so cold and empty in the middle of the night. Now, in the light of day, he felt warmed and welcomed within the healing arms.

Anyone here for Braxton Crowley? a loud, clear voice called out.

Jared hurried over to the man dressed in dark blue scrubs, his surgical mask pulled down below his mouth. The doctor looked at the expectant young man before him.

Im Dr. Yaklich. Braxton is out of surgery, but not out of the woods yet. She suffered to fractures to her skull in the accident, which saved her life, as it gave the brain room to swell from the massive injuries she sustained.

Can I see her? Jared asked, nearly grabbing the front of the mans shirt in desperation.

Not yet. Shes in ICU, where I imagine shell be for a while yet. Shes slipped into a coma, the bodys way to protect itself from pain and trauma while the brain heals. The good news is, though unconscious when brought in, she did respond to the pain of her bones being set in ER.

Jared nodded solemnly, swallowing back his fear. Will she make it, Doctor? he near whispered.

I cant say just yet. Its going to be very touch and go. Shell been seen by her physician later this morning, after shes been settled. With that, the doctor turned on his heel and headed back through the swinging doors in which hed come.

Jared blew out a long breath, the cold can of soda in his hand forgotten. Relief was mixed with dread as the doctors words echoed in his brain. Shes alive, but for how long?

Part 3

Braxton gritted her teeth, trying her best to keep her ass and crotch from pounding into the beast underneath her anymore than she had to. Her arms were wrapped around the woman in front of her, whom of which she had no idea who she was, or why Braxton felt compelled to mount the black war horse and fly off at a neck-breaking pace with her.

Theyd been pounding the earth beneath them for more than half a day, and Braxton was starting to feel the physical pain and exhaustion of the unexpected trip. She turned her head, spitting out locks of dark hair from the woman in front of her, whose hair continued to fly into her face and any open orifice it could. She looked up into the sky, noting the gathering of angry-looking clouds, black and pregnant. The threat of rain was clear.

Braxton squeezed the womans waist slightly to get her attention. The dark head turned, showing Braxton a profile for the second that it took the long, black hair to fly back into the blondes face. Swiping it away with a frustrated hand, she leaned toward the rider. I need to stop! she yelled to be heard above the rushing wind. The head bobbed in an understanding nod.

Eternally grateful as the huge beast slow, then began to canter off into the thick forest to the left of the seemingly unending dirt road theyd been traveling. The brunette pulled the horse to a stop, then helped Braxton down off the high back.

Planted on her feet, she took in their surroundings, her legs feeling like rubber as she walked around on them. Her companion took care of the horse, leading him to a gurgling stream. Braxton followed, her thirst making itself very known. She adjusted her shoulders then rolled her head around on her neck. She felt oddly out of sorts, almost dizzy.

Who are you? she asked the woman, who knelt next to the stream, drinking from water she had cupped in her hand, her back to Braxton.

My name is Asima. And as for who I am, she stood, walking past Braxton on her way back toward the road, Im your guide.

My guide? Braxton followed, watching as the woman glanced up at the sky, taking in the road left and right, then turning to regard the blonde.

We need to find shelter. I see a storm brewing, she said, one corner of her lip quirked in amusement that seemed to be aimed at Braxton. Come.

Braxton watched as Asima mounted Black Jack, holding her hand down toward the blonde. With a groan compliments of her behind, she allowed herself to be lifted behind the other woman.

***

The quiet of the small room was cut by incessant beeping from the machines keeping the figure in the bed alive. Jareds eyes were drawn to that figure, his breath catching. Braxton looked so small and fragile. She lay with a thin blanket covering her body, though the bulges underneath the blanket gave notice to the casts that were on both arms and left leg, which hed been told were crushed in the accident.

What drew Jareds attention the most, however was Braxtons face and head. Her head was completely bandaged, the long, golden hair hed loved to look at and touch gone, cut short during surgery, and he was told, shaved in places. Her face was swollen beyond recognition, her nose taped after reconstructive surgery on it. She almost looked like Frankensteins monster with the railroad tracks of stitches traveling across her cheeks, chin and forehead.

The blonde man stepped further into the room, eyes resting on Braxtons closed ones, bruised and swollen. It was probably a good thing she was comatose-Jared doubted shed be able to open her eyes if she were to try.

Hey, he said softly, resting a hand gently on one of her narrow shoulders. He wanted to take her in a huge, relieved hug, but knew that wasnt an option. Looks like theyve got you in quite the contraptions, Brax. His voice cracked some on his best friends name. He cleared his throat and tried again. Youve got to make it, Brax. Youve got so much to live for. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the bandaged forehead. Sniffling and running sleeve across his eyes and nose, he turned, wanting to give Lydia and Carrie time to visit, too.

The waiting room was near pandemonium when Jared through the doors that led to the ICU rooms. He recognized Margot Crowley crying hysterically, held by Carrie who patted her back continually and looked lost. She spied Jared over the distraught womans back, her hazel eyes pleading for help.

Hey, Mrs. Crowley, he said softly. The sobbing woman lifted her head from Carries shoulder, tears starting anew at the familiar sight of Jared. He welcomed her, relieving Carrie who took a deep breath. His newest roommate wasnt keen on the emotion of the situation.

Have you seen her? Margot asked, wiping her face on a Kleenex shed pulled from her purse. Her tormented green eyes gazed up pleadingly at Jared, who needed.

Yeah. Just got back. Come on, Ill take you in.

Ugh, I only hope Braxtons father doesnt show, Lydia muttered, watching the pair disappear through the ICU doors.

Amen, Carrie said.

Jared kept his arm around Margot the entire way to Braxtons room. The older woman gasped at the sight of her only child, nearly falling to the floor. Jared held her up.

Oh, honey, Margot Crowley whispered, walking to the bed and taking her daughters hand in her own trembling ones. Daddy will be here soon, Braxton. He wanted to

 she cut herself off, then finished, voice quiet, almost ashamed. He wanted to make sure we had a decent place to pray and go to church while we were here. Behind Margots back, Jared rolled his eyes. Jared? the older Crowley said.

Yeah, Mrs. Crowley? He stepped up beside her, hands resting on the metal railing that were up on either side of Braxtons bed.

How did this happen? Was it that no-good boyfriend of hers? Margots words were strong, cold.

Jared glanced over at the older woman whom hed known just about his entire life. No. She was driving on a dirt road. Lost control of the car. Thats all I know.

Margot looked down at the still figure in the bed, her soul breaking in two. She cant die, Jared.

He felt the backs of his eyes prickle with emotion once more, but managed to swallow it down. I know. How long are you and Mr. Crowley staying?

Fletch wont stay away from his flock for more than a few days. She eyed the handsome young man next to her. Im not leaving my daughter until shes well. Get her away from these influences here.

Jared was surprised. Mrs. Crowley, you know Brax wont leave here. Shes only got one year left of college-

And what good will that one year, or that degree, even, do if shes dead, Jared? Margot hissed. She needs to be around her family. Around what she knows.

Jared said nothing, instead he returned his attention to the still form of his best friend.

***

Braxton pulled her legs up to her chest, staring into the flames of the small fire Asima had started. Theyd found themselves a shallow cave, the light reflecting off the stone walls in eerie, dancing shadows. Outside the storm raged, rain pelting down, lightning and thunder nearly constant companions.

Asima sat on the other side of the fire, stretched out on her side, head held in the palm of her hand. Braxtons gaze found her. Can I ask you a question? she asked. Blue eyes flicked up to meet her own.

Sure.

That woman and the little girl, is that your mother and sister? Mother and daughter?

Asima studied her for a moment. Would that make you feel better, if they were? My mother and sister.

Braxtons brows drew. I dont really care. Just curious.

The brunettes smile seemed almost mocking. Yes, mother and sister.

Braxton grabbed the small water skin, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink. She was so thirsty. It seemed like no matter how much she drank, she couldnt get enough.

You sure youre not hungry? Asima asked, waving off the offer of the water skin.

Im sure. Braxton resumed her examination of the fire, more questions crowding into her brain. You said youre my guide. Where you are you guiding me to?

Your destiny, Asima said simply.

Braxton felt anger bubble to the surface. Every answer shed gotten from her companion. I dont understand something about you, Asima. Well, thats not entirely true. I dont understand a lot of somethings about you. She met the amused gaze, which only acted to irritate her more. Why cant I get a straight answer from you? Who are you? Where are you taking me to, and why dont I get a say in it?

With a sigh, Asima pushed herself up, sitting cross-legged and leaning her elbows on her knees. Who are you? she asked, voice quiet but firm.

Confused, Braxton stared. What? Asima, Im not playing-

Who are you? Asima said forcefully, her face a mask of stone. If you can tell me that, then our journey stops here.

Green eyes blinked several times. I dont understand. Im Braxton.

Braxton who?

Braxton smirked, ready to spill out the answer that was so easy, but nothing came. She stopped short. The more she tried to think about it, the further away the answer until her brain felt like a thick mass of molasses.

That, Braxton, is why Im your guide, Asima said gently. You need to trust me. Now, if you dont want food, get some sleep. Tomorrow weve got a long day. Im really hoping these storms will blow over, she said pointedly. With that, the most Braxton had heard the taller woman say, Asima grabbed one of the bedrolls, spreading it out and curling up in it, her back to the fire.

Braxton stared at the other woman for a long time, eventually looking through her. She felt like crying, but had no idea why. Glancing past her companion, she looked to the mouth of the cave and the night beyond. The storm still raged, and somehow she felt as though she were connected to it. She felt as though those swirling clouds and pounding rain beat within her own heart. Never before had she felt so alone as she sat there on the cold stone of the cave.

The breeches she wore did little as far as protection, and she began to shiver violently. Grabbing the other bedroll, she spread it out and wrapped up in it, resting her head on her bent arm. As she closed her eyes, a tear slipped out.

***

Roll her a bit back this way, the nurse said quietly. Her fellow nurse did as asked. The nude body between them was pale, every bruise and cut on her body blatant and shocking. Okay. Lets get her sitting up so I can get the gown around her.

Nurse Karen James held the slight woman as her co-worker finished putting the fresh gown on their patient. The nurses dark curls bounced into her eyes as she helped to lower Braxton Crowley back onto the mattress. Brushing them aside, she glanced down at the still form. Her heart went out to the family of this young woman. Far too young to be lying there so motionless and helpless.

Ready? the voice of the other nurse asked, arms filled with the dirty sheets and gown theyd just removed. Karen nodded, lightly touching Braxtons shoulder before heading out of the room.

Jared nearly ran headlong into Karen in his haste to get to Braxtons room. Oh jeez, Im sorry, he said, moving out of her way.

Karen smiled at him. Thats okay. Somehow I dont think youre attention is exactly on this, she said, indicating the hall around them.

Jared grinned sheepish. Uh, no. Not exactly. How is she? he asked, glancing into the room.

Shes holding her own, Karen said softly. Thats about all I can say.

Jared nodded with a grateful smile. Thanks, Nurse. He watched her walk away, recognizing her as the nurse who had given him coffee the night Braxton had been brought in. Quickly he headed into his best friends room. Mornin, sweetie, he said brightly. He had managed to convince Margot Crowley to go home and rest. She and Fletcher were staying at the house-no reason they should pay for a hotel. They had camped out in Braxtons room. Lydia and Carrie had headed home long before Jared and Braxtons mother, so hed called ahead, telling his two roomies to make sure there was nothing incriminating in the blondes bedroom, as undoubtedly her parents would snoop. Jared had nearly chocked on his laughter when the girls told him theyd removed two vibrators.

Now, Margot and Fletcher were getting breakfast downstairs, so Jared wanted some time alone with Braxton. He sat in the chair beside the bed, reaching through the metal railing to take a small, pale hand within his own. The skin was soft to the touch.

Hey, girl, he said softly, noticing that a bruise had started on the back of her hand where the IV had been put in. Sleep well? He grimaced at his own unintentional joke. Your mom is really freaking out, Brax. If nothing else, youve got to come back to make her stop. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone, then leaned in to whisper, shes driving me crazy.

He smiled at a nurse who came in to check Braxtons vitals, getting out of her way then resuming his seat, once again taking the blondes hand.

I cant tell you how sorry I am, Brax, he whispered. I really let you down, and Ill never forgive myself for it. Because of me

 Jared broke down, bringing Braxtons hand to his face, the sobs quietly racking his body. He felt warm hands on his shoulders and quickly wiped his face with a Kleenex from the box on the side table. Turning, he saw Margot looking down at him with concern and understanding shining in her moist eyes. Fletcher stood near the open door, looking rather uncomfortable. Hey, guys, Jared said, pushing to his feet and offering the chair to Margot. How was breakfast?

Its hospital food, Fletcher said, as though that said everything. He glanced at his daughter, his only child, before turning to his wife. Ill be at the hospital chapel.

Jared watched him leave, stunned. Saying nothing, he turned back to his friend.

***

Asima glanced up, her nerves on end from the unending thunder that raged across the sky. The clouds were swirling in menacing threats, sending fingers of lightning crashing to the ground in magnificent bursts of light and sound. She rode Black Jack hard, riding around an obstacle course of debris and rivers from the pounding rain.

Jesus! Is this from Markus or from her?

She could feel Braxton clinging to her, face buried in Asimas upper back. Braxton! she yelled, voice barely heard over the storm. I need you to calm down!

The blonde lifted her head, squinting against the tiny knives that were aimed at her face, hair flat to her head from the pelting rain. What?

You need to calm down! Asima said again, holding onto Braxtons hands, which were clenched around her waist, as she led Black Jack to vault over a fallen tree. We cant keep doing this! Calm yourself down!

Utterly confused, Braxton turned her attention inward, trying to figure out exactly what Asima was talking about. She paid attention to her own emotions, realizing that she was keyed up and scared. She had been waiting for one of those bolts of lightning to zap them all day. She glanced up into the sky, her eyes drawn to the tiniest bit of blue that was peeking in. She thought it was amazing and beautiful against the angry, bruised clouds overhead.

Asima gasped, eyes drawn to a widening ocean in the sky, when suddenly a burst of light pierced the storm, shining down on them. The thunder rumbled angrily, but began to roll away, the lightning sizzling in the calming rains. Good girl, Asima whispered, pushing Black Jack harder. She knew the storms would be back, so best take advantage of the calm while she could.

Eyes closed, Braxton relaxed her hold on Asima, lifting her face to the warmth of the sun, her body lulled by the constant gallop of Black Jacks hooves. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that they were surrounded by green hills and an open, seemingly endless landscape. Mountains cropped up distant and blue, capped by white snow. Black Jacks hooves pounded over natural grasses, green and thick.

Asima leaned over the stallions neck, urging him faster. His mane flew, as did his tail, racing across the grassy plains. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, heart filling with dread.

Too soon, she muttered, glancing up into the sky. Asima would have happily welcomed the dark clouds of moments ago compared to the blood red sky beginning to swirl above. The darkening hue around them made her feel like shed ridden into a volcano.

Whats happening? Braxton yelled into Asimas ear to be heard over the rush.

Hold on! the brunette screamed. No matter what, hold on! Asima kicked the mighty beast beneath her with the heels of her boots. Ya, Black Jack! Ride! The beast seemed to garner strength from a reserve as he used every ounce of muscle and energy he had to make them fly.

Braxton glanced over to the left, gasping when she saw the ground beginning to crack, the earth falling into the ever widening hole. With a loud crack that matched the flash of white hot lightning, the crack burst open, cruising along the ground, headed straight for them, leaving a black maw in its wake. Asima! she cried, her breath nearly stopping cold in her chest.

Asima turned Black Jack hard to the right, racing ahead at frightening speeds. IF either of them fell off, or if the animal tripped, they were doomed. She felt true panic for the first time as a glance over her shoulder told her that the ground was literally falling away at their feet.

Braxton felt like she was at the doorway to Hell, the darkness behind them alive with crashes of lightning, seeming to come from within the core of the earth, clashing with the fingers of death pounding at them from the skies above. She held on tighter, too afraid to do anything else. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to imagine the most peaceful, wonderful day she could think of, all blues and greens, yellow and purple.

Asima glanced up, relieved to see the skies trying to part, the red lightning, almost as though water had been poured over blood until the ground echoed the pink hues. Yes, Braxton, she whispered. Yes. A light, cornflower blue began to bleed into the mix, creating a strange sort of lavender for a moment before the sun shone down in a fierce arch over the gutted land.

Finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, Asima slowed their speed, but dared not stop. She knew theyd won a minor victory, but he wouldnt stop. Next time the attack would be worse, and far more personal. Feeling the strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, she couldnt help but wonder if her charge would be ready for it.

Slowing them to an easy gallop, Asima headed into the lush woods just beyond a small row of dunes. Black Jack was breathing hard, and she knew he was finished for the day. All of them could use a rest, truth be told. Asima stopped the animal and jumped down, leading the horse and single rider through the more dense parts of the woods, looking for a good source of water and a good place to camp for the night, as the intense burst of sunshine was already fading, the approaching night marching forward.

Braxton looked down at her companion, holding on to Black Jacks saddle horn as she was lightly rocked from side to side with every step the stallion made. That was some impressive riding, Asima, she finally said. Blue eyes glanced at her briefly.

Thank you.

What was that back there? Ive never seen anything like it. I dont think, she muttered, letting out a shaky breath.

Few have, Asima said simply. He knows youre here.

He, who?

They broke through into a small clearing, a stream just off to the right, plenty of fallen branches all around for firewood. Well camp here for the night. Asima halted Black Jacks movement, helping Braxton to the ground before removing the stallions gear and getting him settled for the night. Start collecting wood for a fire, she said, beginning to brush down her horse.

Wanting to ask more questions, or at least get her first question answered, Braxton knew it wasnt going to happen, so did as she was asked. She hurried off into the forest, drawing a mental map in her head so she didnt get lost. Something told her that her sense of direction was less than perfect.

Using her upturned tunic as protection for her arms against the sharp sprigs on the branches and twigs she was picking up, she hummed softly to herself, a nameless tune that just came to her. She glanced down at what she had gathered, and hoped it was enough. Night was falling, and she didnt want to have to try and find her way back in the dark. Asima would kill her if she got lost.

Heading back toward the sound of the lightly gurgling creek, Braxton quickened her pace. Looking up, she realized that the sky had turned nearly pitch black in a matter of moments. Brows drawn, she brought up the mental map, turning left through a thicket when suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Gasping, her load of wood hit the forest floor, a large branch landing on her booted foot. A hand grasped her throat, shoving the blonde back against the trunk of a tree, knocking her breath from her.

Shaking the darkness away from the edges of her vision, she tried to concentrate on what had her trapped. From the size of the hand, and the cold, clammy feel of the skin, she knew it wasnt Asima. Opening her mouth, she tried to scream, but with her airway cut off, only a small squeak managed to escape. Braxton reached out blindly, clawing at the arm attached to the pinning hand. She felt tattered clothing, more of the clammy skin underneath.

Braxton gasped desperately, her lungs burning from lack of air, and she could feel herself fading, heart pounding in her ears as her blood rushed through her head. Eyes closing, she prepared for death when her throat was released. She took a deep, gasping breath, her hand clutching at her own neck. It was then that she saw the glint of steel just seconds before it was shoved through the body of whomever had attacked her.

Are you okay? Asima panted from the deep shadows of this darkest, of all dark nights.

Braxton nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check. Yes, she managed. Her hand was grasped roughly, and she was yanked away from the tree and nearly off her feet as Asima ran through the trees. She grunted as she was pushed against the trunk of a tree, a warm hand placed roughly over her mouth. She tried to squirm but Asima hissed in her ear to stop. She stayed still, listening. She heard movement far off in the trees, but soon it was gone. The hand was removed, and she was being pulled through the forest again, then thrown to the ground.

Protect yourself! Asima exclaimed, looming large as she stood over the crumpled form of Braxton. Do you have any idea what could have happened tonight? Asima knelt, her face within an inch of the petrified blonde. That Averill would have taken you to him, and your chance would be gone. Do you understand me?

Braxton could feel Asimas hot breath on her face, her bangs swept back from the force of her words. A tear managed to escape to her mortification. No, Asima, I dont understand, she sniffled, pushing the brunette away from her and wrapping her arms around her knees. You wont tell me anything. Wont explain anything to me. Her tears wouldnt stop now, and she angrily swiped at them. How the hell am I supposed to defend myself or know when Im doing wrong when I dont know whats right!

Asima stood, sighing heavily. She ran a hand through her hair, heart finally slowing. Youre right, she said, turning to face the night. Tomorrow. Tomorrows good, she muttered before heading out into the shadows. Stay put.

Part 4

The mirror revealed a man of impossibly handsome features-skin was clear and smooth, looking more like that of a marble statue than a man. His brown eyes were sharp, yet welcoming. A small smile lifted one corner of perfect lips, full and slightly blushed. He ran his hands over the smoothed back locks of blonde hair that were tied in a low ponytail with a bit of leather.

With long strides, he crossed the room to where his sword lay on a trunk. His billowing silk shirt was cut to fit his form around the chest and shoulders. Tight, brown leather covered his long legs, ending in highly polished knee boots. Clipping his weapon into place, he glanced in the mirror once more, taking in the whole picture. Leaning forward, his brows drew, creasing the perfection of his skin with a small crease.

Wrong, he murmured, staring into the depths of his own eyes. The brown began to shimmer, then a deep blue swept in like the tide over the shore, leaving their oceanic hue behind. Standing back, he once again studied the entire package. Satisfied, he swept out of the chamber.

***

Dark blonde brows drew, again, as Braxton tried once more. She muttered to herself as still no spark appeared. The fire ring, built by Asima, was still dark and cold, much like the morning. Damn, she muttered for the fifth time as yet another piece of the rock flaked off. Setting the small chunk aside, she was about to strike again when she was grabbed by the arm and roughly hauled to her feet.

Startled, Braxton took in an angry Asima. Id appreciate it if you didnt waste all my flint, the brunette growled, taking the stone from Braxtons hands. Within moments she had a nice, warming fire blazing.

Embarrassed and angry at being manhandled yet again, Braxton sat on the opposite side of the fire as her companion, who had a rabbit roasting over the flames. Looking down at her hands, still covered in dust from her activities, she muttered, You dont have to be so mean to me, Asima. Im not stupid, nor am I a child.

No? Asima said, voice devoid of any emotion, including apology. Then why are you so defenseless? Why cant you start a fire? Why do I have to continue to save you?

The only reason Braxton didnt break down into tears was because there was no malice in Asimas words, just simple question. She looked into the flames, grateful for their warmth. I dont have an answer for you, Asima, she said, unable to meet the other womans intense gaze.

How do you feel about what happened yesterday? Asima leaned over, turning the meat so the other side could have equal treatment.

You mean, other than scare the hell out of me?

For a moment, Asima gave the slightest of smiles, which, Braxton realized, made her absolutely beautiful. Yes. Other than scaring the hell out of you.

Braxton brought her legs up, wrapping her arms around her shins and rested her chin on her knees. I dont know. Yes, scary, but utterly confusing. I feel like something is so very wrong, Asima. I dont know, cant explain it. She shook her head to emphasize her confusion. I dont belong here.

Asimas eyes brightened perceptively. Then where do you belong?

That, I dont know. She stared up into the sky, beginning to flame with color as a new day dawned. Not here, though. She glanced at the woman sitting across from her. How long have you been a guide?

Asima studied Braxton for a long moment, that usual smirk on her face, as though she were sharing in some sort of joke Braxton would never understand. Awhile, now. Long enough to know you need to eat, and here, she tossed a freshly filled water skin. Drink. Afterwards I want to take you somewhere.

***

The days travels were far easier and less adventurous than the day before. Black Jack kept them at a swift, yet safe speed. Braxton took the time to explore visually where they rode and she held on tight to Asima. The valleys and shallow streams they plowed through flew by in a beautiful, colorful blur. The sun overhead seemed to follow them, a guiding light through alien territory.

Finally, at midday, Asima slowed their mount and hopped off, Braxton following closely behind, as the brunette led the horse. Theyd stopped at the foot of what looked as though had once been a mighty city. Stone pillars and columns stood tall, through fractured from their holdings as the buildings theyd once adorned or supported had crumbled to the ground. Large chunks of rock and marble littered the ground in a path of obstacle. The ruins of a few buildings could be discerned, one wall standing proudly while the others had long ago crumbled to rubble.

Where are we? Braxton whispered, fearing that if she spoke too loudly, she might wake the dead of the once-beautiful place.

This used to be a capital city, Asima began to explain, her voice just as soft, blue eyes constantly scanning. Many years ago it fell when Markus marched his army in, intent on destroying and conquering all.

Whos Markus? Braxton carefully picked over a low wall that still held its shape for the most part, save for a v of missing stones. Asima urged Black Jack to jump through the gap.

Keeper of the Souls.

Braxton felt a chill run through her as she glanced up into the skies. It seemed to her that once theyd crossed the border into the ancient city, the air had grown colder, the skies darker and her eyes wider. Who is that? she asked at length, not sure she wanted the answer.

Asima was silent for a moment as they crested a hill in the old city, finally looking down upon a valley. Creator and keeper of this, the guide said softly, indicating what lay below.

Braxton blinked a few times, unsure of what she was looking at. It almost looked like a constant stream of tiny, white structures, but from the distance of the top of the hill, she wasnt entirely sure of what. I dont understand, she whispered, glancing at Asima for help.

Come on. Be quiet and very careful. Do not leave my side.

They made a steady path down the rocky hillside, Braxton helped up more than once as her feet skidded out from underneath her. As they neared, Braxtons breath caught. She realized that what lay before her were in fact endless rows of small, white structures, but what those small, white structures were, were headstones.

Asima watched the blonde carefully as realization hit her. The green eyes were filled with shock, fear, and a profound sorrow. Come on, she urged gently, leading them toward the speared wrought iron fence that served as a barrier to the graveyard.

Black Jack was left tied to the fence as Asima and Braxton made their way toward the gate, which hung partially open on seemingly rotted hinges. There was no grass covering the space between the stones. No flowers in brass vases, nor flags commemorating a job well done. The stones all looked the same, spaced precisely six feet apart, from head to next stone, each grave marker a foot away from its neighbor.

This is where the souls end up that Markus keeps, Asima explained, indicating their surroundings. This becomes the eternal home of those who give up. Who give in. To him. Caught between a world of living and dead.

Is this Hell? Braxton asked softly, reaching up to brush an errant tear from her cheek.

Worse than Hell. At least Hell is a destination. This is purgatory with a catch-forever tortured by Markus, or turned into the Averill, and doomed to forever hunt the lost.

Why did you bring me here? Braxton asked thickly, eyes scanning some of the names and dates on the stones: 1341; 1963; 907; 2004

.

Because this is where Markus wants you. He will fight until he wins, Braxton.

Stunned, the blonde gaped at Asima. Do I have to

fight him? At Asimas nod, she turned and looked out over the cemetery once more. How am I supposed to do that? Her laugh was rueful. I cant even get a fire started, let alone fight some maniac.

Thats why Im here. I cant fight him for you, nor can I interfere. She reached out, gently taking Braxtons hand to get her attention. When the sorrowful green eyes met hers, she smiled softly. But I can teach you. I can guide you. You just have got to believe in yourself for this to work. She shook her head to emphasize her next point, No one else can save you, Braxton. Only you.

Braxton felt nauseous, her arms crossing protectively in front of herself. I dont know if I can do this, Asima, she whispered.

You have to, Braxton. Asima looked around, feeling uneasy, as she always did in this place. Come on. We need to go. Well talk more.

***

Jared tugged the apron loose from around slim hips, , allowing the thick material to fold over his arms. He headed toward the kitchens to clock out and get his keys and sunglasses, glad a long day at the deli was over. He noticed a familiar face standing in line as he passed. Stopping, he grinned.

Hey, he said, hazel eyes of the nurse twinkling as she grinned back.

Hi. Done for the day? Karen James asked.

Yeah, he lifted his apron foe emphasis. Thank god. Taking in the pretty nurse with laughing eyes and disheveled dark curls, he spoke on impulse, You got any plans right now? Other than lunch, obviously.

Karen returned the blonde mans easy smile and shook her head. Nope. Just lunch. Care to join me? Or are you ready to break free form a day of prison?

Jared chuckled. Nah, Ill join you. Be right back.

Fifteen minutes later Jared and Karen were situated at a wrought iron table placed on the back patio of the deli, a colorful umbrella shielding them from the intense rays of the early May sun.

So how are you doing? Karen asked softly, sipping from her diet Coke. She eyed the handsome man, concern in her eyes. She could see the sadness in his blue eyes.

Jared sighed and shrugged, staring off into the distance, only seeing his friends smiling face, which hed do anything to see again. Its been three of the most difficult weeks of my life, Ill tell ya that. Im glad shes more stable now, but

 his voice trailed off as he met her gaze.

You know, I love my job, but I have to say, watching the family and friends suffer is one of the most difficult things I have to deal with. Give me the blood and the gore any day, but please not the grief.

I bet. Jared watched as his companion chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich. How long have you been a nurse?

Karen swallowed the bit of food and wiped her mouth with a cheap, paper napkin. Six years.

You still like it?

Love it. I honesty cant imagine doing anything else. Karen was quiet for a moment, sipping from her drink before asking the question that had nagged at her for the past three weeks. Shed seen how the man sitting across from her had suffered, watching Braxtons lifeless body day in and day out. She hadnt noticed a ring on either of their fingers, but he was still attentive and always there. Have you and Braxton been together long? she asked carefully.

Jared was surprised by the question, and it took him a moment to register just what Karen was asking. Oh! he laughed, sipping from the bottled water hed brought out onto the patio with them. Were not. Weve been best friends just about since we were zygotes.

Karen burst into laughter at the image, and she had to admit relief. Oh. Thats a long time.

Jared grinned, nodding. He quickly sobered. Shes the most important person in my life. Its killing me to see her like this. Brax deserves more than this. He glanced over at the pretty nurse. Do you think shell make it, Karen?

The nurse was quiet for a moment, contemplating the best way to answer. Professionally theyre taught to never give false hope or predictions, but looking into his tortured blue eyes, and digging from her own core beliefs, she smiled, reaching over and placing a hand over one of his. You know, Jared, I believe strongly in the power of faith, and I dont mean in any sort of religious way. I mean faith in the universe, faith in the human mind and spirit. I think that if Braxton wants this bad enough, shell come through this, and youll get your best friend back. She smiled. After all, shes got you to come back to, so why wouldnt she?

Jared looked away as he blushed slightly. He was hit on by women a lot, but for some reason, he felt Karen actually meant what she said. He turned to her. Thanks.

Karen cleared her throat, feeling slightly embarrassed at the blurted comment. Her more superficial wounds are healing nicely, at least. I dont think the scarring will be too bad.

Shell be relieved. Um, he said, picking at the label on the bottle. Do you think shell be able to start her senior year in August?

Karen studied the younger man for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek. I dont know, Jared. A lot depends on Braxton. If she can pull through this by then.

***

Margot Crowley sat in the uncomfortable chair, grateful for the extra pillow a kindly nurse had given her, on which she now sat. She stared at her daughters face, their fingers intertwined. The stitches all along Braxtons face had been removed weeks ago, the bandage on her head now limited to a small bit of gauze over the actual wounds. The golden strands of her daughters hair were short and spiky in some places. Just that morning Margot had helped a nurse give Braxton a bath.

She leaned over, kissing her little girls fingers before releasing them and sitting back in a more comfortable position in the chair. It had been just shy of a month since the phone call in the middle of the night from Braxtons little friend, Jared. Though it had been the most horrible moment of her life - not knowing if her only child were alive or dead, and that she was hundreds of miles away  but Margot had been so grateful to Jared for his thoughtfulness. Hed always been such a gentle soul, and for a man, yet!

Those thoughts drifted to Fletcher. Hed spent no more than fifteen minutes at his daughters bedside, spent mostly in prayer, before hed left. It was the only time Margot had ever fought with him, gone against his wishes. Hed claimed that the accident and Braxtons current state was the Lords work, and it was punishment for the girl not listening to her parents and her God, and instead running of to a godless city for an education that a good wife and mother would never need or use.

Hed tried valiantly to get Margot to go back home with him, but Margot had flat refused, and would not listen to any arguments to the contrary. She was not leaving her daughter, no matter what. In her darkest moments Margot wondered if shed done the right thing. For the past twenty-two years, shed done everything Fletcher Crowley had asked her to do without question without word. That was the job of a dutiful wife, so taught her own mother. But then, in the next minute, shed look at Braxtons lifeless form, her expressionless face  like a little angel  and shed know shed done the right thing.

What are you dreaming about, little one? she whispered to her unresponsive daughter, reaching out to gently stroke Braxtons pale arm. What skies are you flying in right now? Her question was interrupted by a cheerful, yet respectful voice, from the open doorway of Braxtons room.

Good afternoon.

Margot turned to see an elderly man standing straight, his black trousers and short-sleeved button up shirt finely pressed. His white Roman collar stood out in stark contrast. His bespectacled eyes twinkled with a welcome smile. Would you like to pray with me, maam? he asked kindly.

Margot smiled in return, knowing that Catholic prayer just wouldnt do. She shook her head. No thank you, Father. The priest nodded in understanding and was about to continue on down the hall when Margot called him back. Can I ask you a question?

Of course you can, child. He maintained a polite distance, stepping just inside the door.

Do you think God punishes us for sins that we may not know weve committed?

The priest looked from Margots tormented eyes to the lifeless body of the girl behind her, then back to the older woman. His smile was genuine and comforting. No, child, I do not. I believe God tests us, but I dont believe He ever punishes us.

Margot smiled, feeling strangely relieved. Thank you, Father.

Ill pray for guidance for you, the priest said, then with a slight bow, hurried on his way.

Guidance, Margot murmured, turning back to her daughter with a sigh. Guidance would be good.

***

Okay, that sucked, Braxton muttered, lowering the bow. She sighed with frustration as she watched Asima jog over to the target, collecting all the arrows that littered the ground in front of, beside, and in back of, the target: a tree.

Amused, Asima walked back to her, holding out the deadly bouquet to the blonde. Keep trying. You need to focus.

Braxton accepted the arrows, grumbling good-naturedly, Shouldnt I be at home enjoying my summer vacation from classes, or something? Before she could nock another arrow, her shoulders were taken in a vice-like grip. Startled, she found herself looking into two very intense eyes.

Is that true? Asima demanded. Her hands moved to cup either side of the blondes face, her touch gentling. Is it, Braxton?

At first frightened by Asimas intense reaction, she realized what the guide was asking. She searched her brain, trying desperately to get a picture of exactly why she had said that. What do I do? Who am I? Summer vacation

. She shook her head, moving away from Asima, whos hands fell back to her sides. I just dont know, she whispered, wanting to cry. She felt as though the information were right on the tip of her brain, but just out of reach. Damn it!

Hey, Asima said, placing a gentle hand on Braxtons shoulder. Its a start. Okay? She waited until troubled green eyes met her own. Braxton, the only way Markus can get to you, can attack you is if you give up. But, as long as you can retain some sort of link, he cant touch you.

Then how am I supposed to fight him?

Asimas grin was nothing shy of predatory. Because you go to him. You attack on your own terms, and you win your soul back. With surprisingly compassionate fingers, the brunette reached out and brushed a few strands of hair out of Braxtons face. Youll be ready.

How do you know?

Because youve got me, Asima said simply, making Braxton smile. Now, come on. Lets try again. She handed the blonde an arrow then moved out of the way.

***

Braxton reached out a foot, testing the temperature of the water with a toe. It was cold, but not exactly heart-stopping. She pulled the shirt over her head, shaking her hair free. It was a beautiful day, the sky sunny with plump, white clouds floating. The stream cut through a valley of rolling hills and dotted wooded areas. She pushed the itchy pants down her legs, tossing them to the small clothing pile next to her boots.

Naked, Braxton grabbed the bar of soap shed found in one of the saddle bags, inhaling the flowery scent before stepping into the water. She waded out until the water reached just below her breasts, the deepest point of the water. It took a moment for her body to adjust to the cool depths, but then she sighed in contentment, the coolness marvelous against heated skin.

The morning had been spent practicing with Asimas bow. Braxton was proud of herself as shed managed to nail a bulls-eye twice, though she was still positive it was pure luck on her part. Even so, the approving smile shed gotten from Asima had been a nice reward. So often it seemed she irritated or flat out made Asima mad, that to finally make her proud, filled the blonde with exhilaration.

As she began to wash herself, she thought back over her time with Asima, which she couldnt put a daily amount to. Sometimes her memory would allow her to remember nights shared across the campfire, other times one day just seemed to roll into the next. But always, the one constant and steady force was Asima, both comforting and frightening at the same time. Braxton thought about all that shed learned, the cemetery, the apparent monster who wished to have his newest victim in her. How was she to fight this? How was she to fight a force that she, herself didnt entirely understand?

Her heart told her this wasnt a battle of muscle or strength, or even of steel or arrows. This was something that went far deeper, far more profound. Even with this understanding and instinct, Braxton had no idea what her weapon was. Asima constantly questioned her, needing to know what Braxton could remember. Could remember of what? What was she supposed to tell her guide? Asima had been so excited at Braxtons slip earlier. Summer vacation. What information did Asima so aggressively seek? Where was Braxton supposed to find the answers?

Dunking her head beneath the surface of the clear waters, Braxton surfaced, spitting water out of her mouth and wiping her eyes. Running her hands over smoothed blonde hair, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a man watching her. Lowering herself so the water came just to beneath her chin, she studied him.

Blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, he was dressed simply. No weapons hung from his hip, other than the fishing pole he held in his hands. She was certain he had not been there when shed entered the stream. He glanced at her, blue eyes widening in surprise.

Oh! he said, quickly tugging his line out of the water. Im so sorry. I didnt see you there. He seemed truly embarrassed as he began to pack up his equipment.

Its alright, Braxton said, head slightly cocked to the side as she studied him. He seemed so familiar to her. A comforting familiarity. Any luck?

He glanced at her, seeming confused for a moment before he glanced at his pole, chuckling softly. Too soon to tell, he replied. He made a move to leave, then stopped, turning back to her. Ive not seen you before, he said conversationally. Are you new? He nodded at her clothing piled on the opposite bank. Your clothing doesnt ring a bell of any of the villagers I know.

Braxton smiled, a bit unsure. How was she supposed to know if she were new? She didnt even know who she was! Oh, uh, well, Im just traveling through, she answered with a small smile.

Ah. He gave her a brilliant smile. My names Tom. Whats yours?

Braxton opened her mouth to speak when she was cut off by a cold voice on the bank behind her. Be moving on, pilgrim.

Turning, Braxton saw a steel-eyed Asima aiming that cold stare onto the uninvited guest. Asima, Braxton said quietly, shocked at how rude her guide was being.

Move, Asima said, voice lowering, her hand resting on the grip of her blade.

Tom said nothing, though he met Asimas gaze steadily, the smallest bit of a smirk quirking his lips. Ill just be on my way, then, he said slowly.

You do that. Asimas gaze didnt leave him until hed disappeared into a nearby wood, then she turned angry eyes to Braxton. What the hell were you doing?

Bathing, obviously, Braxton said, returning the anger, lifting her hands to indicate the stream around her. She watched as Asima waded into the water, fully clothed, getting close enough to snag her by the arm and tug her out of the water. Braxton tried to get away from her, but Asimas grip was unyielding. Let go of me! she yelled, yanking roughly to pull her arm free. Asima looked at her, stunned, finally having the grace to look away as Braxton stood naked on the bank.

Get dressed,

Braxton was furious by the demand. She took a menacing step toward the taller woman. If you lay your hands on me one more time like that, Im going to practice my fighting techniques on you. Im not a fucking animal, nor am I your slave. I didnt come here to have you treat me like my father does. Do you understand?

Asima could only stare, stunned. She didnt comment on what was obviously another piece of Braxtons life, knowing now was not the time. Contrite, she nodded. Please get dressed, Braxton. Its not safe for you right now. That man, the fisherman, was Markus. Hes trying to get information. Asimas words were spoken softly, almost shy. She turned and headed back toward their camp, where shed been napping when she woke to find the blonde gone.

Braxton stared after her, shocked at her own behavior, and even more shocked that it actually had the desired affect. Never in her life, that she could recall anyway, had she done that. Pride filled her, making her stand a bit straighter and taller as she gathered her clothing, pulling them on. She suddenly had an image of cold, hate-filled eyes, and knew instinctively they belonged to her father. She shivered at the thought.

When Braxton arrived back at camp, she found Asima reclining next to the fire, her head resting on Black Jacks saddle. She stared up into the late afternoon sky. One hand rested on her stomach, the other under her head. Braxton stood five feet away, studying her companion. She noticed not for the first time that Asimas face was beautiful, her features strong yet elegant at the same time. Her body, though tall and lean, could be quite intimidating. That constant frown was on her face, as though the weight of the world were on Asimas shoulders.

Hey, Braxton said softly, setting the still-wet soap on a rock to dry before putting it back into the saddlebag. Asima glanced her way.

Hi. The brunette studied Braxton for a moment, her eyes traveling over her face and damp hair. You know, you have really pretty hair, she said softly. Been meaning to tell you that. Braxton could only stare, her shock clearly read by Asimas amused grin. Yes, I can be nice sometimes, too. Asima turned her gaze back to the skies.

I suspected as much. Braxton took a long swig from the water skin, settling it back near their packs, knowing that her guide would decline. Shed never seen the darker woman eat or drink anything. She wasnt entirely convinced that she even slept at night.

Is your father mean to you? Asima asked at length, her gaze still occupied by the slow, lazy clouds.

Braxton paused in her brush stroke, thinking. I have no memories, but yes, I feel he was. Is. Was. I dont know. She continued to brush the tangles from her hair. If that man was Markus, why didnt he strike?

Because youre still too strong. Asima met Braxtons confused gaze. As I explained earlier, you havent given up. You still believe.

In what? Braxton asked, nearly exasperated by Asimas cryptic answers.

Asima gave her a brilliant smile. Why, yourself, of course. You know in your gut you dont belong here. Your soul is trying to reclaim itself, Braxton. But be warned: he will try and wear you down. Understand?

Braxton nodded slowly. I think so.

What did he say to you today?

He asked if I was local. Also my name.

Asima nearly jumped off the ground, coming to squat beside Braxton, startling the brush right out of the blondes hand. You didnt tell him, did you? she hissed.

No. Thats when you told him to book it.

Asimas eyes closed as a heavy sigh of relief eased out between her lips. She sat back on her haunches, staring into the flames. Nodding to herself, as though shed made some sort of connection or decision, she smiled at Braxton. Good. Thats real, real good.

Part 5

She felt heavy, her eyes made of lead. Forcing them open, she looked through the slit-like opening. A room. Small. Obscenely bright. Painful. She saw a figure close by, slumped over in a chair. Blonde hair, messy bun. Calm, even breathing, hands clasped proper-like in her lap. Looking past the sleeping woman, she saw another figure standing near the door of the room she found herself in. He was staring off into space, face expressionless. She thought he looked tired.

A small gasp brought her attention back to the woman, only to find herself looking into shocked, open eyes. The woman sat forward, her face suddenly so close, so close. Her mouth moved, tears in her eyes. No words. No sound.

So tired. Heavy.

Braxton gasped, her eyes opening, taking in her surroundings. She saw the dying fire to her right, Asima just beyond, sitting up, her back against the fallen log shed been using as a backrest. Blue eyes met her gaze.

You okay? Asima asked, setting aside the dagger shed been sharpening. Her look of mild curiosity turned to concern by the startled, almost frightened look on Braxtons face. Bad dream?

Braxton sat up, running a trembling hand through her hair. I dont know, she murmured, staring off into the darkness, trying to bring the images back to mind. Distantly she heard Asima crawling to her side of the fire. The brunettes presence was comforting. I was in a room, she said softly, staring off into her dream. A woman was there. And a man-standing at the door, I think. She was crying.

***

Margot could feel her tears tracing down her cheeks as she searched her daughters face desperately. Braxton? she said, caressing the soft, pale cheek. Baby? Come back. Come back to me.

Jared stood next to Braxtons mother, his eyes wide and heart still pounding. Hed been lost in his own world when hed heard Margots surprised cry. Hurrying to her side, hed been shocked to see Braxton looking right at the older woman, her eyes clear, the depths intelligent.

Mrs. Crowley? Jared said softly, resting a hand on her arm. Let her sleep. Jared was startled when he found himself with an armful of sobbing Braxtons mother. He held her, his eyes never leaving his best friend, silently pleading for her to open those beautiful green eyes again. We should probably tell her doctor, he said softly. He felt the woman in his arms nod and sniffle. Mrs. Crowley-

Oh, Jared, Margot chuckled, pulling away from the young man. She beamed up at him, a dry hand placed against his cheek. Call me Margot. Youve been with me every step of the way for the past six weeks. I think were past formalities.

Jared grinned, nodding. Agreed. You stay here with her. Ill go get the doc.

Margot nodded, turning back to her daughter once she was alone again. She was filled with an acute mixture of relief and grief anew. Thoughts raced through her head: Did she wake just simply to tell me goodbye? Is she beginning to come out of this? Is she still alive? Will she know who I am when she waked up? If she wakes up. She shivered at the last thought, which sounded a great deal like Fletchers voice.

***

Who were they? Who did you see? What did they say? Asima asked, her voice gaining a little more excitement with every question.

Braxton shook her head. I dont know. But, she glanced down at herself and over at Asimas clothing. They looked different. Dressed different. Not like us.

Asimas touch was gentle as she cupped Braxtons jaw. Dont you see? she asked, eyes bright. This is good, Braxton. This is very, very good.

The guides enthusiasm was contagious, even if Braxton had no clue what the dream meant. The warm touch felt good in what seemed like such a desolate place. Okay, she said softly. Yay.

Asima chuckled, her hand dropping. Go back to sleep now. Tomorrow well go to the House of Shadows. See if we can find some answers.

***

The old house was looming and hauntingly beautiful. Braxton mounted the long, narrow stairs that led to the double front doors. She felt Asima close behind her, which helped to keep her heartbeat in check. The skies above the castle-like structure held an eerie, deep blue hue, as though storm clouds were transparent over a blue, June sky. It was somewhat disquieting.

Go on, she heard quietly behind her, not even realizing shed stopped her progress on the stone steps. A quick, reassuring glance behind her, the blonde continued her ascent.

Pushing through the heavy wooden door, warily Braxton stepped inside. The creak of the opening door was the only sound, save for the howling of a wind that seemed to come from within the walls of the house. Braxton shivered. The house was filled with shadows, shapes that seemed to swim along the walls and high ceilings, never settling anywhere long enough for Braxton to get a good look at them, or figure out what they were. She felt the solid warmth of Asima behind her.

Be careful in here, Braxton, the guide warned quietly. Dont fear what you see, but be mindful of your actions. She leaned in close, a hand resting lightly on one of the blondes shoulders. Nothing can hurt you in here. Not if you dont let them.

Nodding, but not entirely sure how she felt about what she was told, Braxton bravely took a step forward. The room she stepped into was massive, the floor cold stone, which their booted steps thudded dully on. The air was cool, though not cold. Even still, slight chills raced up and down Braxtons spine. She gasped lightly when she turned to her right, heart stopping when she thought someone stood watching. When she realized that floor to ceiling mirrors ran the length of the room, she laughed a bit nervously.

Continuing on, she took in her surroundings. Giant chandeliers, crystal prisms twinkling in the constant breeze, hung from the ceiling. Braxton watched the beautiful creations, almost holding her breath as she waited for the seemingly unsteady mammoths to fall. A winding staircase twirled up into darkness to the left, the steps stone, though covered in a dark-colored carpeting down the middle of the traffic path. There were no doors off the main room. It was either upstairs or out the front door, which slammed closed, making Braxton jump.

God, this place is creepy, she whispered, hand to her heart. Asima grinned, nodding. She turned to her companion. What am I supposed to do?

Asima met her gaze, her face expressionless. Look within yourself, she said calmly.

Confused, Braxton turned to glance at the mirror that had first grabbed her attention. She was startled to see there was no reflection. Walking toward the glossy surface, she walked toward the woman who looked back at her. The woman from her dream. Older than Braxton, though with similar features, the younger blonde reached a hand toward the glossy surface, the woman on the other side matching her move. Braxton smiled, a feeling of relief washing over her. She knew that woman, though didnt know why. It didnt matter-she knew her.

As she continued to stare into the eyes of the woman, the scene changed. The day was blooming, skies blue and clear. Two children ran across green grass, a boy and a girl. They giggled as they chased each other. The blonde-haired boy tripped, falling to his hands and knees, and finally rolling over to his back, rocking as he held his upraised knee. The little girl stopped, hurrying over to him.

Are you okay, Jared? she asked.

Ohhh, it hurts! he howled, but then suddenly stopped, lunging at the girl with a loud growl. She screamed and was off like a shot, laughter trailing after her.

Braxton smiled, charmed and feeling a sense of excitement fill her at the childrens play. It seemed so familiar to her, yet as alien as the house she stood in. The image slowly shimmered into a scene of the same two children, though now grown to be teenagers. She outright laughed when she saw the girl, whom she realized was herself, helping the young man out of his window. They both fell to the ground as his grip on the tree hed been climbing down, slipped.

Damn it, Jared! Braxton hissed, looking around the night to make sure they hadnt been spotted. My father will kill us if he finds out weve snuck out.

Well, its your stupid boyfriend were going to meet, Jared hissed back, brushing off his clothing of any loose grass. Without another word, the two ran off into the darkness.

Braxtons smile remained as she felt the amusement in the memory of that scene, even if she couldnt remember specifics. The next scene she saw made her breath catch. She saw herself lying alone, her body broken, in an open field. She stepped closer to the image, watching in horror as her other self tried to get up, but only fell back in agonizing pain, almost like a wounded dog, trying desperately to limp his way back home.

Tragic, isnt it? a soft voice said from behind her. She nodded dumbly, not registering that the mans voice sounded awful familiar. She started slightly at the feel of gentle hands on her shoulders, unable to take her eyes from the image before her. Look at that? So much pain. So much loss.

Slowly the image began to shimmer once more, Braxton watching as a small, sterile hospital room emerged. Her still form was lying in the bed, tubes and machines inserted into far too many places on her body. She was still alone.

Do you know how much that is costing your poor, financially unstable parents? Look at that, he said, voice so soothing in her ear, they couldnt even afford to come see you. Braxton felt a soft touch against her cheek, then warm breath against her ear. Its expensive to care for an invalid, my dear.

Im not an invalid, Braxton whispered, though she could hear the uncertainty in her own words.

No? he said, gently turning her face toward him with a touch under her chin. She looked into the blue eyes, seeing a friend before her. Then why are you here?

Braxton turned back to the image, shaking her head. I dont know. She watched in tortured wonder as the image transformed one last time. A long, polished casket was displayed at the front of a church. The chairs were empty, save for two. She saw the backs of their heads-a blonde man, much like the one standing next to her now, and the older woman shed seen in an earlier vision. There were no flowers. No crying. No mourners.

Release them from their sadness. Release yourself from all the pain that awaits you. The pain of being a burden on them forever. He leaned closer still, his words no more than a breath of warning. No more school. No more living. No more love. Only pain.

Braxton felt a fire building inside her, and it was beginning to rage out of control. She pushed herself away from the man who she now realized was Markus. His face had turned from the beauty of Jared to a hardened mask of hatred, the comforting blue eyes bleeding to a lifeless brown. He raised his sword, and before Braxton could think, she met his strike with her own blade, sparks flying from the meeting metal. His look of shock made her feel strong.

Get out of my nightmare, she hissed, pushing his blade away from hers, the man taking a step back. He continued to back away from her, the shadows slowly enveloping him.

This isnt over, my dear, he warned, now no more than a voice. Youll be watching over your shoulder forever.

Braxton was shaking as she continued to stare into the shadows, then felt the hard, solidness of something in her hands. She was shocked all over again to see the sword she held, her breath catching. The grip was brown leather, pommel a simple gold knob, which matched the simple straight guard. The blade was polished steel, a fuller running down its length.

She felt herself begin to tremble so bad she nearly dropped the blade. Suddenly a warm hand wrapped around her own, gently taking the sword from her hand. Turning, she cried out in relief as Asima looked down at her with concerned eyes. She threw herself at the guide, burying her face in a warm neck. Asima, stunned, stood stiff for a moment, unsure what to do, until finally she wrapped her arms around the trembling body.

Shh, she cooed, Ive got you.

***

Dr. Ron Sheppard turned to the family, stuffing his glasses back into the pocket of his lab coat. Well, everything looks wonderful. The fractures have healed nicely. The casts will be removed from her legs and arms within the week. Her vitals look good.

So, when will she wake up, then? Jared asked, leaning against the wall to stay out of the way of the examining doctor, and his team of nurses. Margot Crowley stood close, her hand covering her mouth, concern in her eyes, which strayed to her daughter. All bandages had been removed from her head and face, wounds allowed to finish healing and air to get to them. Her limbs still wore heavy casts.

Im not real sure, the doctor said, glancing back at his patient. We can only be glad that shes out of immediate danger and hope for the best. He turned a comforting smile on the family. If there are no other questions, I need to be going. Seeing there were none, he squeezed Jareds shoulder compassionately, then headed out, followed by the crew of medical personnel.

Want a ride home, Margot? Jared asked, leaning over and giving the woman, who hed become very close to over the past two months, a kiss to the cheek and a one-armed hug.

Margot shook her head. No. Think Ill hang around here for a little bit. She smiled at the young man who was like the son shed never had. You have plans with Karen tonight? she asked softly. Her smile spread quick to match Jareds. He nodded. Things seem to be getting serious. Margot grabbed the chair that was against the wall, dragging it closer to the one near the bed-her vigil for eight weeks. She tugged his hand until he sat then patted his knee. Tell me.

Jared wasnt sure what to say, and somehow felt guilty with Braxton lying in the bed not two feet from him, which he knew was ridiculous. He had known in his heart of hearts that nothing would ever happen between him and the beautiful blonde, but it hadnt stopped him from hoping. And wishing. Now, telling Margot about it, somehow it was like confessing his secrets, a weight taken from his shoulders.

With a heavy sigh, he began to speak. I think Im falling in love with her, Margot, he said softly. With Karen, he clarified unnecessarily.

Given up on my daughter, have you? Margot asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

Jared froze, eyes growing wide. Well, uh, no, I mean, yes, I mean, he buried his head in his hands. Ah, hell. Looking up at the older woman again, he gave her a lopsided grin. Shell wake up, that much I know. But shell never love me, Margot. Ive stopped kidding myself. He ran a hand through his hair. I dont know. Somehow Karen has helped me to see

 his voice trailed off, not sure how much he could tell this dear woman sitting next to him. It amazed and saddened him that hed known Margot Crowley his entire life, but never realized just how cool she was. But then again, he d never seen her sans Fletcher, who just about controlled her every thought.

You can tell me, Jared, Margot said, sensing his discomfort. I think young love is beautiful. Her wistful words nearly broke the blonde mans heart.

Karen has shown me the passion that I know Brax could never give me. Shes my best friend, and I love her with my soul. Sometimes I think Braxton is my soulmate in a non-romantic way, you know? My other half, to help me and guide me, somehow. He stared off into space, his words tasting right upon his lips. Either way, I think I may have something good with Karen. Shes great, he finished with a wide grin.

And I think its wonderful. Youre a good boy, Jared. You deserve to be happy. Im just sorry my daughter is too foolish to see it.

Nah, Jared waved the words away. Im happy as long as shes in my life. Thats all I can ask.

She will be. I know that. Margot glanced at her daughter. She will. She smiled at the soft kiss left on the top of her head as Jared left the room, her eyes remaining on Braxton. She looked better, a bit more color returning to her face. Now she just looked like she was sleeping, rather had barely survived a prize fight. Most of the tubing and other medical equipment had been removed, except for the catheter and feeding tube.

My dear, dear Braxton, she said, taking her daughters hand, this one free of any tubing, the bruise long fading. She took a deep breath, glancing out the window on the other side of the narrow bed. Its a lovely day outside, honey, she began conversationally. The grass is all green, flowers fully in bloom. Lovely. And speaking of lovely, you should see how happy Karen makes Jared. Such a sweet couple. Margot smiled at the memory. She began to stroke Braxtons fingers absently as she chatted on, filling Braxton in on all the latest gossip at home, as well as in the college students new town.

***

Asima sat against the cave wall, watching her charge carefully. Braxton had been very quiet since theyd left the House of Shadows. The girl seemed lost within her own head, eyes focused on the flames before her. Even her body was curled up upon itself. Asima hissed softly as the twig shed been picking apart shoved a small splinter into her hand.

Damn, she whispered, turning her palm toward the fire to see if she could find the small wound.

Let me see, Braxton said softly, scooting around to Asimas side of the fire. Any protests quickly fell from Asimas lips at the look on her companions face. Braxton gently took the brunettes hand in her own, turning the palm to the fire. Ouch. Its deep. She glanced up at Asima. This is going to hurt.

Asima nodded, knowing as much. She watched as Braxton crawled over to their saddlebags, digging until she brought out both an arrow and one of their daggers. Turning to make her way back over to her friend, she saw the gleam of her new blade from the corner of her eye. Shivering, she continued her short journey, setting the tips of both weapons into the fire.

Asima bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as Braxton went to work with the newly sterilized knife tip. She watched the look of concentration on the blondes face, trying to read what was in Braxtons mind. She was not privy to what had occurred in the House of Shadows, though knew it had been profound. She also had the feeling that Markus was frightened of Braxton. She decided to voice that thought.

He came to you, didnt he?

Green eyes flickered up to give Asima a brief glance before returning to what she was doing. Yes.

You frighten him, Braxton.

The blonde stopped her digging, wiping away a slim string of blood with her thumb. Why do you say that?

What did he say to you? Or did he just attack? she asked in lieu of an answer, nodding toward Braxtons sword.

No. He spoke first. He tried to convince me that, Braxtons voice broke. She pulled away from Asima for a moment, not wanting to hurt her in her upset. After several deep breaths, she returned to her task, finally digging out the splinter, her fingertips covered in a light covering of blood as she picked it out of the tender skin. Sorry. I know that hurts, she said softly. She wet a piece of cloth and wiped down Asimas palm. All better.

Thank you. The guide took her hand, impressed with Braxtons handiwork. She used the cloth to stem the minor bleeding. She glanced at the blonde, unsure if Braxton would continue or not. No, she didnt have to, as the House of Shadows was a very private journey, meant to show what lie within the soul. Asima had her own vision while she was there. Mainly she needed to know if she was teaching Braxton was she must. Would she be able to get Braxton to a place where she could fight her demons, and reclaim her soul? The answers had proven that they still had work to do.

I remember what happened to me, Asima, Braxton said softly, having moved back to her side of the fire. The dagger had been cleaned and stowed, as had the arrow, which she hadnt needed after all. I know it was an accident. I know I was badly hurt. She met Asimas gaze. I just dont know how I got here, she said, indicating the cave around them. I dont think Im dead, but cant think of anything else.

Youre not dead, Braxton. Far from it. If Markus two visits are anything to go by, plus his big welcome to you in the form of that storm, hes running scared because youre very strong, and very much alive. I think from here on out Markus is going to throw everything at you that he can. Be prepared for it. The time of reckoning is coming far faster than I thought.

***

The room was dark. Beeping. Steady, beep, beep, beep. Alone. Blinking several times, she took in her surroundings. Just as they were before, but no one sitting next to her. No one leaning against the wall by the door. The door is open. Bright light, no color, shining in from hall beyond. A distant voice, echoing into the room. She cant understand what its staying, but somehow the voice is comforting.

She tried to speak, but her lips hurt. Theyre dry, cracked. Her tongue doesnt help, but only makes them burn. Fear begins to grip her heart, sending a shiver down her spine. Where is she? Why does she hurt? Where is everyone? Mom! Jared!

The beeping intensifies, startling her. A silhouette steps inside the door, then hurries over to her. She looks at her, cant see her face. She tries to cry for help, but nothing comes out.

Shhh. Its okay, the soothing voice said. A gentle, cool hand on her forehead. Stay calm, Braxton.

She looks past the shadowy figure, another standing in the doorway. She feels her heart beginning to pound, fear like an icy grip. She struggles against the calming hand on her shoulder, head shaking from side to side. She cant speak! Cant breathe! No! Get away! No, no, no!

Braxton gasped, shooting up from her bedroll, lungs burning as she gasped for air. Frantic eyes looked around the campsite, the sky above dark and foreboding. Asima? she whispered, still unable to pull in a full breath of air. The bedroll on the other side of the fire empty. Asima? She climbs out of her own, getting to shaky legs. There is no sign of her guide anywhere. Asima?!

Braxtons head whipped around to the left, hearing her guides voice off in the distance. Asima was crying.

Im coming, Braxton whispered, running off toward the sound of the cries. Where are you? Im coming!

Tree branches smacked against her face as she ran trough the dense, dark woods, desperate to get to Asima. She ignored the sting of the tiny cuts against her cheeks and forehead. She felt a sharp pain against the side of her head, which nearly knocked her to her knees. She cried out as a sharp pain stabbed through her left leg, making her stumble. She grabbed onto the trunk of a tree to steady herself, but her grip was lost. A scream tore from her throat as her arms both sang out in the most intense pain shed ever felt.

Braxton felt dizzy from the pain. Flopping over to her stomach, she tried to claw her way toward Asimas cries, which she no longer heard. She stopped, listening, hearing the cries again. This time she realized they were her own.

Braxton screamed, nearly running into the stone wall of the cave as she tried to find freedom. Her eyes were open, but still she saw the dense forest around her. She cried out again, lashing out when a hand rested on her arm.

No! she screamed, the sound a solid slap as flesh met flesh. No! Dont hurt me! No, Daddy, no!

Braxton! Asima yelled, cupping the blondes face in her hands, shaking her. Finally the green eyes blinked once, twice, then focused on Asimas face.

Asima? Braxton whispered, daring to hope. She saw the guide nod, fear in the intense blue eyes. Oh, god. She sagged, caught in a strong embrace. She clung to Asima, the tears releasing themselves.

***

Fletcher Crowley stood in the doorway of his daughters hospital room, watching the nurse working. He clutched the thick, heavy book to his chest, the leather smooth against calloused hands. Turning, he decided to head on out and find his wife. It was time she returned to where she belonged.

Part 6

Margot Crowley bent over the newly-made bed, the smell of fresh linens filling the small bedroom that belonged to her daughter. Lovingly she smoothed out the comforter. Braxton kept her bed a simple affair, no throw pillows, no stuffed animals filling the space, as shed done as a child. Margot had realized over the months shed stayed in her daughters home and bedroom that she didnt know the girl anymore, and she was angry at herself for allowing such a gulf. Certainly, Braxton had grown up, but Margot hadnt even realized just exactly what her daughter was even studying in school.

Lydia, Carrie, Jared and Alicia had filled her in on Braxtons life-what she liked, her favorite music and authors. What she did with her time. Margot, who had wanted children since she, herself had been a child, had done what she swore she would never do, what her mother had done to her, and that was to let a man come between her and her child. Even if that man was her husband and the childs own father.

Margot walked over to the used armchair sitting under the window and took hold of the small, quilted throw that shed made for Braxton during Margots many hours at the hospital, or sitting in this very house. The patches were filled with the girls favorite colors, and what Margot had learned were her favorite things: music, cats, rainbows and history. Mrs. Crowley lovingly spread the folded throat on the end of the bed, caressing its soft material.

The gold of her simple wedding band caught the sunlight filtering in through the window next to the bed. Margot stared at the ring for a moment, lowering herself to the chair. The gold held the dull, tarnished characteristics of old, low-rate gold. Fletcher had promised her for years to replace the ring with something sturdy and durable, but it had never happened.

Staring off into the past, she thought about the years shed spent with the man who now she felt she barely knew. Then again, she had realized long ago that perhaps she never had. Shed met him in high school, right before he had dropped out, convincing her to do the same. That was the first of a lifetime of mistakes. Theyd married against the warnings of her parents. Shed been young and desperate for love, which she had foolishly thought Fletcher could give her. How wrong shed been.

When Braxton had come alone, Margot had been overjoyed; finally, something that belonged to her and would love her unconditionally. But, like everything else he touched, Fletcher had ruined that precious purity. Margot had lost track of the times shed tried to run with her daughter, get them both away from evil. Shed lost track of the times shed failed her daughter.

Margot brought up a hand, the same that felt so heavy with the weight of Fletchers ring on it, swiping at a tear. She looked over at Braxtons bed, unable to picture her daughter in it, instead only seeing the cold, narrow one at the hospital. She had to make it up to Braxton. She had to make things right. She just prayed to a God that was not Fletchers unforgiving, cruel god, that Braxtons life and happiness be spared. She deserved so much more than the life shed been thrust into twenty-one years ago.

Margots thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Come in! she called. Alicia opened the door and swept into the room. The lovely Hispanic girl flopped down on the bed, as she had done so many times. Shed all but adopted Margot as her own mother over the many weeks theyd spent talking. Well, good morning, Margot smiled, truly happy to see the girl. She wondered why Braxton hadnt told her about how wonderful her roommates were. All of them seemed to care for her daughter very much.

Mornin, Margot. Alicia sat up, running a hand through her long, dark hair. Chocolate brown eyes looked at the older woman. She lost the coin toss in telling the older woman the news. Margot Crowley had become a respected, and dearly loved member of the house. All of them turned to her for advice or just to talk, especially since only Lydias parents were in town. The rest of them were transplants from somewhere else. Youve got a visitor. If you want, well happily tell him you fell off a cliff, or something.

Brows drawing, Margot studied the girl. Fletcher? At Alicias nod, Margot felt her stomach drop off that cliff the pretty girl had just mentioned. No. I better talk to him. Did he say what he wanted?

Yeah, Alicia said, pushing up off the bed, extending a hand to the older woman, helping her unnecessarily to her feet. To take you home.

Fletcher Crowley sat on the threadbare couch, unable to keep the look of contempt off his lined face, far too old for his forty-three years, as his gaze swept across the living room. The girl who had answered the door sat nearby, straddling the scarred wooden piano bench next to the upright, her gaze never leaving him as she absently drank from a coffee mug.

You sure you dont want any? Carrie asked, reaching up to brush hair out of her eyes, raising her mug. She tried to hide the shiver as Braxtons dads eyes landed on her. Shed never seen such a cold, reptilian stare before. Well, not that wasnt coming from a lizard, that is.

Im sure. Thank you, he said. I dont intend to stay long enough for the trouble.

Carrie shrugged, pushing off the bench, and heading toward the kitchen for more of the hot brew. Suit yourself.

Left alone, Fletcher took in more of the details of the strangely shaped room. The bay window poking out front of the large old Victorian was the main focus of the room, a heavily-pillowed bench seat filling the space. A book, opened face down, lay on one of the brightly colored pillows. The furniture was old and tattered, and smelled faintly of some sort of deodorizing spray and spilled coffee. Mismatched bookcases were filled with an array of various reading materials, some flopped over on their sides from quick returns to the shelves.

Fletchers attention was caught by footsteps that squeaked on the staircase out in the hall. He stood, grabbing his hat in his hands, waiting. Within a few moments Margot appeared, followed by that Latino behind her.

Fletcher, Margot said, almost sounding surprised to see him. What are you doing here?

Youve had enough of this nonsense, Margot. Its time you came home, he said, already turning to head for the front door, more than sure his wife would follow.

Im not going, Margot said, unable to keep the somewhat stubborn hue from her voice. She was glad to feel Alicias warm, comforting presence behind her as nerves began to eat at her stomach. She watched as he turned, his jaw muscles already working. Shoot. Hes angry.

Im sorry, but I dont think I heard you correctly, Fletcher said, voice deceivingly calm.

Margot swallowed, not even realizing shed taken a small step back toward Alicia. I said Im not going. Braxton still needs me. She was proud of herself, as her voice held none of the fear that she felt. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carrie step into the doorway of the room, her gaze daring Fletcher to do or say anything.

That girl doesnt need you. Shes in a coma, for Satans sake! Fletcher bellowed, his patience all and truly gone. He wasnt about to tell her that the girl had awoken the night before, no matter how brief.

Thats why I have to stay. She needs me. If she wakes up, shell need me.

Fletcher took a menacing step toward his wife, finished with this foolishness. You come home with me now, Margot, where you belong. Im sure these

females, can take care of her, he spat, no longer unable to hide his disdain for the long, shaggy hair or whorish clothing the wetback wore, or the oversized mens clothes the quiet one wore. They werent women. Not in Gods eyes, anyway.

No, Margot said, her anger outweighing her fear. How dare he speak that way about her new friends? Im staying. At least until Braxton is better. She took a deep breath. Then Ill come home.

Fletcher looked from his wife to the two other women that were butting into his life, his rights as Margots husband. He opened his mouth, about to tell Margot shed best march up those stairs and gather her things before he gathered them for her when the front door opened. Jared stepped through, his curious blue gaze bouncing off everyone before it hardened as he spotted Braxtons father.

Knowing he was no match for the younger man, Fletcher squared his shoulders, turning back to Margot. Youve got another week. She awakens, she doesnt awaken, youre coming home as my wife should. With those parting words, he marched past everyone, including Jared, trotting down the porch stairs to his car.

The air in the house was heavy, everyone listening to the slamming of a car door then the roar as an engine came to life. Finally Jared glanced at Margot. Gosh, hes friendly today.

Carrie burst into laughter, followed swiftly by Alicia, who wrapped a comforting, protective arm around Margots shoulders. Come on, the younger woman said. Lets go get some breakfast.

***

Braxton squinted against the driving snow, her arms wrapped around her body. A million tiny daggers pelted her face and bare hands. Her clothing was soaked through, and she couldnt stop her shivering.

We cant do this much longer! Asima yelled from just ahead of her. The guide was leading Black Jack, as it was too dangerous to ride in the nearly blinding blizzard. Braxton nodded in agreement, her lashes so heavy with snow they felt heavy.

Asima knew they were getting hit with both barrels as she looked around, desperately trying to see something through the storm. For the past several days theyd been traveling alongside the endless cemetery, so she knew they were getting close. Suddenly she stopped, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Squinting through the snow, she saw a dark figure rushing at her from the left, another from the right.

Pulling her sword, Asima met the first blow, a heavy crack of steel against steel muffled in the blanket of storm. The Averill were strong as they attacked without thought. Asima tried to yell for Braxton to run and hide, but her words were eaten up by the wind. All she could do was hope for the best as she deflected another blow, her empty hand reaching to grab the dagger from the hilt of her belt. With a wild, blind arch through the air, she was lucky, hearing a cry of pain as the deadly sharp tip tore into clammy flesh.

Braxton heard the battle before she saw it, jumping back in fear. Her own instincts kicked in, and suddenly she found herself with her very own opponent. Oh god, she whispered, hand growing sweaty around the grip of her blade. She held it out in front of her, not sure what to do. Asima had been showing her moves, but shed only used them in sparring with the brunette, or against the defenseless trunk of a tree!

She saw the figure approach, his blade already swinging, intending to slice her throat. She sensed it more than saw it, jumping back and raising her blade. The solid contact with his jarred her entire body. She recovered quickly out of pure desperation and survival. She lashed out with a well-placed foot, watching in satisfaction as the Averill stumbled backwards, his back coming into contact with Black Jack, who whinnied in annoyance and surprise. The Averill quickly ran back toward Braxton, the paleness of his face like that of the snow. His eyes were dark and angry, wisps of dead, straw-like hair falling over a thick brow.

Baring his teeth, the Averills tongue slid out from between pale lips. You will fall, he hissed.

Not today, Braxton growled back, anger steeling her spine and putting her on the defensive rather than the offensive. She swung her blade, everything Asima had taught her coming to her in a vivid image of rage and sheer will. Soon she had him moving back, both hands on his blade to try and ward off the fiery attack. Finally she had him up against something solid, which neither of them could see. Likely a tree.

Jaw muscles working, much as shed seen Asimas do, Braxton drew her blade back and sank it deeply into the Averills body. He made no sound as he was run through. His eyes closed, and slowly his body disintegrated, turning into dust with a long, loud sigh, which quickly mixed with the driving snow, leaving Braxton alone, her blade tip stuck into the trunk. She was filled with a strange mixture of emotions: pride, dread and regret. Shed never so much as killed a spider before. Now, staring at her blade, she knew shed just killed a

thing. Not men, not animals, but something in between. Either way, the Averill was dead.

Braxton! Watch out!

The blonde barely heard Asimas cry, instinctually ducking, an axe finding the air where her head had been moments before. As she watched, from her place on the ground, the sound of something whipping through the air caught her attention, as well as a word, flipping end of end, embedding itself into the chest of the Averill standing above her, his axe poised to strike once again.

The body slumped against the tree, Asimas blade falling next to Braxton as the Averills body once more melted into dust, which swirled around for a moment, before slipping away in the storm.

Asima was only able to let go of her breath when she saw Braxton, frightened, but alright, sprawled on the ground. She dropped down next to her, exhausted. She could barely see the blondes face through the storm. Are you alright? she yelled to be heard. At Braxtons nod, Asima got to her feet, helping Braxton to hers. They each grabbed their swords, and made their way back toward Black Jack, whose huge, black body was easily visible.

They managed to find a cave, though both were exhausted and chilled to the bone, the warmth of adrenaline from the attack long faded away. Braxton tried to get her fingers to work as she got their camp ready, Asima cursing softly under her breath as her third attempt to start a fire failed. She was trembling too badly. Finally the spark was enough and a small, but growing fire lit the dark space. Theyd been lucky enough to find a grouping of caves, making their camp deeper in the larger cave, housing Black Jack in the outer, more shallow one, which kept him sheltered from the raging storm.

Its s-s-ss-so cold, Braxton chattered.

I n-n-know. C-come on-n-n. Out of those. Asima indicated the blondes wet clothing, the guide stripping out of her own. She set her and Braxtons swords across small gaps in the stone-point on one end, pummel on the other, clothing draped across the blades to dry.

Naked, Braxton moved over to the fire, her nipples painfully hard from the cold storm theyd just escaped. Asima set out one of their bedrolls, then called for Braxton to join her. Come here. Asima lay on her side, leaving the space closest to the fire for Braxton, holding up the other bedroll, which had been placed over her as a blanket, in invitation. S-share body heat.

Braxton scurried to the bedroll, shivering violently as she settled on her side, facing the fire, which felt wonderful against her face. She was swiftly tucked in, gasping as Asimas frigid front pressed against her back. Youve got a f-f-freezing stomach! she cried.

Asima grinned. Your butt-t-t is, too.

They lay together for long moments, each relishing the feel of warmth unthawing their bodies, as well as the comfort of their growing camaraderie. The blonde stared into the flames, becoming cognizant of where their bodies were touching, and how safe she felt. Asimas hand rested against her stomach, the fingers splayed out, almost protective.

You did really well today, Braxton, Asima said quietly, once shed warmed up enough to finish a sentence without stuttering over it. Im proud of you.

Braxton grinned from ear to ear, the praise meaning so much to her. It wasnt as bad as I thought it would be, you know? I dont know. I guess I just let my anger overcome my fear.

Thats good. It will be harder with Markus. Understand that. Hell pull any trick out of his hat that he has to.

Braxton was quiet for a long moment, thinking about the House of Shadows. I know, she said softly. Then, Those were Averill, right?

Yes. Asima raised her head, resting her chin on Braxtons blanket-covered shoulder. She looked down into the blondes profile. Not living. Not dead. Forever caught in a world of limbo. Their bodies off rotting somewhere, souls trapped here.

What about those from today?

Asima shrugged. I really dont know. Maybe they were liberated. Maybe they were damned. I dont know. She closed her eyes, inhaling the fragrance that was Braxton: so alive, so real. She held the blonde a little closer, wanting to revel in the life before her for as long as she could. She smiled as Braxtons hand rested atop her own, which rested more snugly on Braxtons belly. Itll be over soon, Asima said softly, the breath across Braxtons ear making her shiver slightly.

Ill be leaving then, wont I? Braxton asked, her body warming quickly. She became hyperaware of Asima pressed to her back. She felt Asimas nod.

Yes.

Will I go to that other place? The place in my dreams? Another nod.

Yes.

I was there again, Asima, Braxton admitted, her gaze locked onto the flames. The warmth shed been feeling was eclipsed by a cold chill that ran through her. I think Markus followed me, or was waiting for me there. Her whisper was a tremor of fear.

Asima sighed sadly, holding Braxton closer. She knew the truth, but dared not speak it. Braxton would find her truth soon enough. Youre safe now, Braxton.

Braxton rolled over to her back, looking up at Asima. She smiled at the soft expression on the normally stoic guides face. Her blue eyes were filled with affection and pride, the brilliant color turned silver in the firelight. Braxton couldnt take her eyes off the beautiful brunettes face, taking in every plane and sculpted feature, brought to acute shadow by the flames.

Asima was surprised as Braxtons hand reached up, cool fingertips tracing her brows and cheekbones, then her jaw. She stayed where she was, holding her head up in the palm of her hand. She studied Braxtons face, which she had so many times during their journey. She would miss the blonde terribly, but knew that Braxton didnt belong there. With her. She needed to get back to her world. At least Asima knew she could watch over her once she left.

Who are you? Braxton whispered, the cold forgotten as she turned to her other side, facing Asima. Their bodies were mere inches apart. She could feel the heat radiating off the other womans skin.

I am your guide, Asima said simply. Your conscience. Your eyes and ears. She smiled, running her own fingers over Braxtons face. Im whatever you need me to be.

Slowly Braxtons fingers worked their way toward the back of Asimas neck, gently guiding her down. She felt no shame, no guilt, no surprise, as their lips brushed. Asima lowered her body, resting her weight on an elbow as they gently explored the others mouth, unhurried, uncomplicated. They drew comfort from each other as the kiss steadily deepened.

Asima had the feeling this would be their last night together. Whether Braxton realized it or not, she was incredibly strong, and was ready for Markus. Her mind and soul were that of a survivor.

Braxton broke the kiss, pulling Asima on top of her, and holding her tight. Hold me tonight, Asima. Please, just hold me, she begged.

Asima gathered the smaller woman to her, holding her for all she was worth.

***

Margot sat at the bedside of her daughter, the calendar telling her she had only two more days before Fletcher would come back to collect her. She didnt know how she was going to fend him off if Braxton didnt wake up.

The older woman had stopped at the cafeteria on her way up to her daughters room, and she set out her breakfast-pancakes, sausage and scrambled eggs-on Braxtons tray, preparing her food when a nurse stepped in to check the younger womans vitals.

How was she last night? Margot asked, pouring a liberal amount of syrup on her flapjacks.

Good, the nurse said, scribbling in Braxtons chart before turning to Margot. She was running a little hot for awhile-mild fever, maybe. Other than that, I think shes in good health. She looked down at her patient, sighing sadly. All except shes not awake, I suppose.

She will, Margot said confidently, sipping from her coffee.

***

Asima waited until Braxton hopped down from Black Jack, then sent the stallion on is way with a smack to the flank. She knew the beast could be no help to them today. She flexed her fingers, subconsciously getting them ready for the battle she knew was coming.

The cemetery gate had finally come into view, and Asima led them that way. The wrought iron was ornate, though sent a chill down Braxtons spine. She kept her hand close to the hilt of her blade, almost like a gunslinger ready for a showdown. She supposed thats exactly what she was ready for.

The air was cold and heavy, Asima and Braxtons breaths coming in hot puffs of air. The sky was gray, clouds swirling menacingly. Though Braxton had come to realize that she had control of much of what happened in this strange land, she had no control in Markus domain. That thought scared the hell out of her.

The gate squeaked as Asima pushed it open, the sound seeming ear-splitting in the stillness of the cold day. They glanced at each other, both taking deep breaths. Are you ready for this? Asima asked quietly. At Braxtons nod, they proceeded. There was a part of her that wished that perhaps the blonde wasnt ready for this, that maybe shed give them a few more days together, a few more days for Asima to teach her, train her, try and save her life. No matter what happened today, she knew it was their last day together.

Braxton, for her part, wasnt sure what was coming. She felt her palms beginning to sweat with every step they took inside the cemetery. She felt she was being watched at every turn, her gaze scouring her surrounds. Cemeteries creeped her out under the best of circumstances, let alone this one.

A heavy, cold fog shimmered three feet above the ground, making clear sight difficult for long distances. Asima could just barely make out the stone structure before them, a crypt, that she knew led into Markus realm.

Call him to you, Asima said, the barely audible sound of her pulling her blade filled the space between she and Braxton.

What? Braxton asked, near panic in her voice. She met the stern blue gave before her.

Call him. If youre ready to do this, call him. She could not look away from the blondes wide, green eyes.

And if Im not ready? Braxton asked softly.

Then we turn around right now and try again when you are. She held her tongue, her heart wanting her to try and convince Braxton that she wasnt ready, when she knew in fact that she was.

There wasnt much time to contemplate when they heard the first sounds: a small, low groan, that seemed to come from the very earth they stood upon. They looked at each other, then around them.

Call him, Asima said again, her fingers flexing around her blade.

Nodding, Braxton took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and raised her own blade to the heavens. Markus! You bastard! You want me, come get me!

Asima glanced at the blonde like shed lost her mind, torn between laughing at her antics, and cursing her anger. Who knew what would come to them now. They didnt have to wait long.

The low groan from the groan became a bit of a steady beat, like a faraway drum, though after a moment, it was obvious the sound was a steady chant of voices. Lots of voices.

Oh god, Braxton whispered, her fear beginning to go from a cold trickle to an all out frigid wave pressing upon her shoulders and heart.

Stay calm, Asima said, looking around, trying her best to keep her own calm, even as she reached out and lightly touched Braxtons arm for a moment. Whoa! she exclaimed, stumbling back as the ground began to tremble and shake, the stones around them clattering as the stones themselves knocked against their bases. Asima managed to hold onto her blade in her surprise, never seeing anything like this before. He must really want her.

Braxton took several steps back, her eyes like saucers as she tried to find visual purchase of something-anything. The fog around them seemed to grow more dense, visibility next to nothing. Asima? she called out, losing sight of her friend, even though she knew the woman had been standing no more than a foot away.

Im here, Asima called out of the whiteout. Stay calm. Just stay focused!

Calm and focused, Braxton muttered incredulously, her grip on her blade becoming a death grip. The heft of the sword felt so simple and useless to her sweaty palm. She felt a fear grip her like shed never known, and for the first time, truly wondered what it was like to lose not only her soul, but her mind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she garnered her will and her courage, and focused them on the situation, and the rising panic within her. I cannot die this way. I cannot lose myself to him. She felt anger rising, an anger that voiced itself against the unfairness of the situation. The unfairness of what may happen. She didnt want to die. She didnt want to stay here forever. She would not allow him to take her.

Her lip twitched, wanting to pull up into a sneer as her resolve and strength gathered into a tight ball of determination. Fucker, she growled.

Asima watched in shock as the clouds above parted, and a streak of golden light penetrated through the storm, setting the fog around them aglow. She blinked rapidly, her eyes trying to adjust to the light. The door in the crypt burst open, and Averill ran out, blades bouncing the light streaming down. They cried out as they were blinded, raising a hand to ward off the intense rays.

Asima shook off the momentary effects of the light, realizing that there seemed to be a path straight ahead for her and Braxton, bright, but not blinding. It was their chance. With a loud battle cry, she ran into the fray, cutting down one Averill after another, most too surprised to even attempt to fight back.

Braxton saw her chance, making sure one last time that her guide was okay, then slipped past the small army of Markus men. She entered into the crypt, surprised to see that it wasnt what it seemed. Beyond the stone arch that was the entrance, Smooth, stone stairs led down into a dark abyss. Lit torches led the way, casting eerie shadows on the chilled walls and Braxtons skin. She kept her eyes open, the cries and clashing of swords behind her fading into strange echoes.

She stopped, listening, holding her breath. She heard a loud, booming voice, barking out orders, then the scuff of boots as they were apparently carried out. Braxton held her breath, praying that no more Averill would be coming up her way.

Continuing down the staircase, she followed the winding path, down into the belly of Markus domain. She knew that if anyone came her way, she was dead; the staircase walls were smooth, no nooks or niches. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. Her fingers flexed once again on the grip of her blade, both hands holding on for dear life. Braxtons heart was pounding in her chest, the blood plowing through her body almost painfully fast.

She was both relieved and panicked when the stairs came to an end, leading to a dark hallway, filled with both closed and open doors. No torches marked her path. Booted foot on the last step, Braxton glanced over her shoulder, looking longingly at one of the torches, but knowing that it would give her away within moments. Or did she want to be found?

No time to stop and make a decision, she proceeded without, walking headlong into the darkness, her courage as her guide.

***

Asima was nearly panting from the exertion, her body already sore and tired from the small battle shed just won. She found herself alone, the dead Averill having scattered off into the fog. She swiped her hand across her forehead, wiping away the sweat that glued her hair to her head, before it could run off into her eyes. A few cuts on her face stung, and she realized she had one on her arm as well. Ignoring the stinging pain, she ran headlong into the crypt, after Braxton.

***

Braxton gasped, holding her breath as she ducked into an open door, a small group of Averill running down the hall, where shed just been. Once they passed, she took a moment to look around the room in which she hid.

The space was small, lit by a small night light nestled in the corner. The bed was a twin, covered in a comforter painted by bright colors and the smiling face of a popular cartoon character. A single pillow lay at the head, a fresh imprint in the soft density from a small head. Red footy pajamas were draped across the back of a chair that was situated in front of a small desk where loose crayons and closed coloring books were stacked. Above the desk was a window, the curtains closed, also depicting the cartoon character. The walls were decorated in wall paper covered with clouds and small, colorful airplanes. A boys room. A shelf mounted above the bed held teddy bears and a few childrens Golden books.

Braxton walked over to the window, reaching out to grab one side of the curtains, gently pulling it back. She gasped: beyond was night, the moon shining down on a solitary headstone planted in a grassy hill. The words:

JEFFERY GILL

JUNE 15, 1963-JULY 12, 1969

BELOVED SON

Braxton felt tears sting the backs of her eyes, blinking at the stone and its implications. She quickly stepped back from the window, holding her emotions inside as she reached the door. Peeking out into the hall, she saw that it was once again deserted.

Brushing a hand across her eyes, she hurried out into the corridor, her steps soft and quiet. She glanced into a few of the other open doors: a mans study, filled with wood and leather. A fire roared in the fireplace, round, aged spectacles resting on an open ledger. The room looked as though the occupant had stepped out for a moment. The closed curtained window, always the window. Braxton passed a chefs kitchen, the holding cell of a modern-day prisoner, the inmates orange jumpsuit folded neatly for him on the bench running along the back of the small space. A womans dressing room, the countertops filled with bottles of perfumes, lotions and skin creams. A satin gown hung on a hook mounted in the wall, eternally waiting for its mistress to reclaim it.

Braxton felt sick, hurrying down the rest of the long hall, but stopping short at the door on the end, which was barely ajar. She pushed the door the rest of the way, stepping across the threshold. She recognized her backpack lying on the unmade bed. Her car keys dangled from the key chain attached to one of the zippered pockets. Her text books were stacked neatly on the old, scarred desk shed picked up at a garage sale the summer before. A folded newspaper lie on the seat of the armchair in the corner.

Braxtons heart began to beat faster as she picked up the periodical. The top story, in big, bold lettering, read a headline that made her heart stop altogether:

LOCAL STUDENT KILLED IN TRAGIC CAR ACCIDENT: BRAXTON CROWLEY SUCCUMBS TO COMA

Vision suddenly blurred as she stared at her own face, grinning back at her from a snapshot taken at the beginning of the last semester. She threw the paper back to the chair, her watery gaze drawn to the window near the chair. With dread pounding through her head, she walked over to it, her fingers slowly twisting open the mini blinds. Where once she would have been looking down on the street below, with the Wilcoxs obnoxious beagle, Beatty, she now looked at another solitary hill, a headstone its lone decoration.

BRAXTON CROWLEY

JUNE 28, 1986-

She couldnt breathe, could barely move as she stared at the stone, still unfinished. She tried to take solace in that fact, but it was cold and unfeeling, taking her heart in a stony grip.

Taking a deep breath, Braxton allowed her blood to start to run hot again, fresh determination filling her. Squaring her shoulders, she took hold of the newspaper again, ripping it in two.

***

Asima stopped, a hand reaching out to brace herself for a moment as the world around her seemed to tremble violently for a brief moment. Her gaze was wide and all-encompassing as she took in the corridor around her. The hall she was headed down seemed to be unending, the doors dotting the stone surface were barred over, the bolts rusted and uncared for. She ignored them as she continued on.

***

Braxton listened, pressing her back against the wall at the blind turn in the corridor. She could see torchlight shadows dancing on a wall just beyond, voices heard. There were only two voices, but one she could tell belonged to Markus.

Shes within the domain, a quiet, leathery voice said.

I know that, fool. Her guide is in here, as well. Find them. Bring the girl to me alive. Kill the other one.

Markus watched as his Averill clicked his boot heels in respect, then hurried out of the room. The blonde man was surrounded by the finest of all material things: marble floors, finely crafted stone fireplace, ablaze to keep out the chill. The throne in which he sat was gilded with gold and jewels, captured over many millennia. He leaned over one wide arm, chin resting in his open palm. A booted toe tapped a staccato rhythm on the floor of the dais. Brown eyes took in the giant chandelier overhead, the ceiling far too high for the piece of art to do much in illumination. Scattered torches helped to brighten the mammoth room.

He could feel the slight zing in his veins, knowing that the time was near, getting closer with each step of Braxtons boots. Soon hed have her in his clutches, her strength of will making him grow even more powerful and his kingdom more grand. He could almost feel the moment when hed feed from her., taking all that was the essence of Braxton Crowley, leaving the soggy remains in a marked grave, with all the others.

Markus almost felt giddy as he pushed up from his magnificent chair, which nearly two grown men could sit side by side in. His footfalls thudded dully on the highly polished floor, his hands tucked behind his back. He waited. He hated waiting.

Braxton held until she heard Markus send his warrior off, then silently made her way into one of the most beautiful rooms shed ever seen. Her eyes took in the splendor, mouth hanging open slightly. She quickly recovered when she saw the pacing man standing before the immense fireplace. She watched him for a moment, instantly recognizing both the man from the stream the day she had been bathing, as well as the specter from the House of Shadows. He looked exactly the same, though somehow he seemed larger, more intimidating.

She felt her grip become sweaty once again on the grip of her blade, a cold chill of fear gathering under her arms and between her breasts. Gathering her courage and deep breath, Braxton decided to get it over with.

I want to go home, she said, her voice quiet, yet demanding.

Markus whirled, deeply happy to see the woman standing across the large room from him. He smiled warmly, though his dark eyes remained cold. You are home, my dear.

No. No, Im not. Braxton shook her head, fighting against the urge to flee. She could feel herself trembling, and was angry at herself for it.

Markus, hands still casually clasped behind his back, began to stroll toward Braxton. Why do you wish to leave my realm? he asked, indicating the room around him with a wave of an arm. You dont have to leave, Braxton. You must know this? he said, stopping within twenty feet of the petit blonde. This world is what you make of it. He studied her gaze, reading her-the bravery, the determination. The fear. Asima has lied to you, you know, he continued conversationally, turning his back on Braxton, strolling toward a beautiful tapestry that hung near the fireplace.

No, she didnt. Youre evil, Markus, and I want to go home. Braxton stood her ground, not sure what she was supposed to do. She wasnt aware that Markus could read that uncertainty.

What do you have waiting for you back home, Braxton? Hmm? he turned to look at the still-silent woman. Your best friend turned his back on you. Tired of the fact that youll never love him, he left you when you needed him most. Markus fought the urge to smile when he saw the flicker of pain pass through the brilliant green eyes. He left you crying and alone on a dark, country road, Braxton. What kind of friend does that?

Braxton felt the ache of truth grip her heart. She shook her head, not willing to allow Markus to get to her so badly. No, she said, though her voice sounded less than convincing to her own ears. Thats not how it happened. He was just angry at me.

Indeed? Angry enough to turn his back on his best friend when she needed him most? Markus tsked, shaking his head sadly. That doesnt sound like any kind of friend Id want to have. He walked over to Braxton again, noting that her grip tightened on her blade. Braxton, is that really necessary? he asked, nodding toward the sword. Im unarmed, he said, lifting his arms to show her. I just want to talk to you. I like you. Id really like you to reconsider staying here. With me.

Braxton shook her head. No. Not a chance.

I would never turn my back on you. I would never damn you to a hell that your own father created for you. He stepped forward, gently pushing aside the blade Braxton raised toward him. He looked down into uncertain eyes. Id never use my love for you as a weapon. A condition.

Braxton blinked away sudden tears, hearing the words that shed prayed shed hear from her father, but never had. She shook her head, her mind screaming at her heart to stop listening.

Braxton, here you would be accepted and belong. No matter what. He smiled, kind and nurturing. You could even be free to love and care for whom you wanted. Asima, perhaps?

Braxton again shook her head. No. I heard you tell your thug to kill her.

For an instant Markus panicked, but never let it show or be heard in his voice. Of course I did. But in an instant, he snapped his fingers for emphasis, that order can be taken back. No harm will come to your friend, and in fact, shell be brought here to see you.

Braxton nearly lowered her blade, wanting so much to believe what she was being told. She wanted to feel safe and to belong. For a moment, she wondered if just maybe that place was here, with him. Then her thoughts headed back to her life-Jared, Carrie and her other roommates. She thought of her professors from the past semester. Her dreams for the future. She shook her head. No. I want to graduate.

Markus felt anger fill him, thick and dark. Time for talking was over. Before the blonde could blink, he had her around the throat, her booted feet kicking uselessly at the air beneath them as she was raised. Her sword clattered to the marble floor as her hands grabbed uselessly at the strong one that held her. She could not breathe, lungs burning with every attempt.

You dont have a choice, Braxton, he growled, eyes growing beady and even darker. Cold. This is where it ends for you.

Braxton felt a moment of pure terror as her life force was squeezed from her body. Her vision began to shadow at the edges, the veins in her head throbbing from lack of oxygen. She tried to cry out in pain as Markus grip tightened even more, dark determination on his face, twisting it into the monster that lurked inside the closet. The boogieman who crawled out from under the bed, haunting her dreams. The face turned into that of her father.

Braxton gasped at the grinning man. Her terror turned into rage, a foot lashing out, striking him squarely in the knee. Markus cried out, nearly dropping her as the leg buckled. His grip was loosened just enough to afford Braxton a much-needed breath of air. She reached back with one hand, bringing it forward with every ounce of strength she possessed, landing a hit to Markus temple. He howled, shaking his head in a daze as he dropped her.

Braxton fell to the floor, gasping as she fell to her knees. She quickly rolled out of the way as the monster before her lunged at her, quickly recovering from the blow. Getting to her feet several feet away, Braxton faced him. Her head begged her to flee, to run and find a place to hide, knowing that sooner or later her fathers fury would end. Until next time, anyway. Somehow she managed to fight the urge, knowing that this time there would be no reprieve.

***

Asima heard the attack coming from behind her. She whirled on the group of three Averill, raising her blade with one hand even as she snatched a throwing dagger from her belt, landing it squarely in the stomach of one of her attackers. He went down with a deep breath and blowing dust. The warrior who met the brunettes blow lashed out with a solid kick to her thigh, making her stagger for a moment, but she continued to hold him off. The third Averill moved to her other side, slashing at her arm with a short sword.

Asima cried out, a thin ribbon of blood soaking through the sleeve of her shirt. She sent the first man flying with a roundhouse kick, turning her attention back to the man who had cut her. She punched him in the jaw, his pale head reeling back even as he prepared a second strike. She met it, but nearly fell to her knees when he used his free hand to punch her in the arm, right in the freshly-made wound.

Bastard, she hissed, bringing her blade around, slicing his throat. He gasped, grasping the wound before he, too, was gone. Angry, Asima turned back to the first man, only to watch him run down the corridor. Allowing her anger to get the best of her, Asima gave chase. Their footfalls pounded down the stone, echoing off the cold walls.

***

Braxton watched in morbid fascination as the man shed known as Markus fully disappeared, and Fletcher Crowley emerged, replete with bible in hand. A new type of fear spread through Braxton, her breath catching as her gaze was glued to him. No, she whispered, scooting away from him, the marble floor beneath her cold and unyielding, like the man whos hands were nearly on her. She felt the swift backhand across her face, knocking her head to the side, the slap of the large hand leaving a red mark on her flesh.

I told you you were unholy, Fletcher growled, following like a fat cat ready to pounce as Braxton backed away even more. She shook her head violently, hair whipping her stung cheek, unable to take her eyes off Fletchers. Shed rather face a hundred Markus than one Fletcher Crowley. You think you can run from me, little girl, he said, voice deceivingly soft. A fool. You always were. A fool to think you were loved. A fool to think I wanted a damn thing to do with you. A fool to think that the spawn of Satan was good enough for my house.

Braxton was crying now, her fathers familiar words still painfully chiseled into the tender flesh of her soul. No, she said, voice weak. Im not bad. Im not evil. She shook her head to emphasize her point. Im not.

Asima burst into the room, skidding to a halt when her two prey were nowhere to be found, instead she saw Braxton cowering on the floor, a tall, gaunt man standing over her.

Thats not Markus, she murmured, hurrying further into the large room. She watched as the man raised his hand, which she thought hed intended to hit the blonde with, but realized he held something in the long, cold fingers.

Thou shalt find Hell a peaceful place! Fletcher yelled, holding his bible aloft like a shield.

No! Daddy, please, stop, Braxton cried, curling her body around itself like a small child.

Braxton! Asima yelled, growling in frustration as she saw the two Averill shed been chasing run toward her. She fended off their blows only half-heartedly as she watched the blonde. Thats not your father! Fight it! Fight him! Asimas last word ended in a grunt as she blocked a particularly hard blow, which nearly took her to her knees.

Braxton heard the words, and felt the logic behind them, but the little girl in her felt the shame and guilt of a child who had no idea why shed been cursed and branded a traitor by her own father. Im sorry, Daddy, she whispered, praying that maybe if she were genuine enough, submissive enough, hed go away.

She cried out in surprise and pain as she was picked up by her shirt, feet off the ground. She looked into the hard, cold eyes of her father, the smell of cheap whiskey hitting her in the face with every breath. Its time to pay, he said, shaking her for good measure. One of his hands found her throat, the fingers like steel jaws, slowly closing her windpipe. Braxton gasped for air, her feet kicking uselessly.

Asima looked on, feeling helpless as she watched the blonde be tortured by her own worst fears. Fight it, she begged. In that moment, Braxtons gaze met her own, and held. Asima tried to send everything in that gaze: encouragement, friendship and compassion. She grinned when she saw the fire returning to Braxtons eyes.

Braxton suddenly realized that if she let this bastard beat her down again, this time she would not be getting up. The look in Asimas eyes broke Braxtons heart. They had gone through so much together in their time in this hell, and Braxton didnt want it all to be for naught.

Turning her inner rage into a shield and weapon, Braxton grabbed Fletcher Crowleys collar, holding him still as she snapped her head forward, nailing him on the bridge of his nose with her forehead. Seeing stars, he staggered backward, loosing his grip on her. Braxton hit the floor, boots in a wide stance to keep her balance. She saw the blood running out of her fathers nose as he looked up at her, stunned. She grinned, feral as a satisfaction rushed through her. It was time for the bastard to pay!

Braxton swung around, using the momentum to reach out and kick the man in the gut, nearly making him lose his footing with the blow. She reached back her arm, intending to drive her fist into his jaw, but her and was caught, the man in front of her looking down at her with death in his eyes. She was shocked when a swirl of brown flickered for a moment, as though Markus were looking back at her for the briefest of moments before Fletcher was fully back in place.

He squeezed the fist in his larger hand, the bones in Braxtons fingers smashed together painfully. She held her breath so she wouldnt cry out as her hand was bent backwards, her wrist popping. She worried the next time it popped, it would be because it was broken. She had to do something, and it had to be fast. Bringing up a knee, she made solid contact with his groin. Fletcher grunted, but didnt fully let go. Using her other hand, Braxton grabbed the bible Fletcher had in his hand and imagined it going up in a ball of flame, hotter than all the pain her father had caused her for her first twenty years on Earth.

Asima dispatched another Averill, her glance moving to Braxton as he fell to dust at her feet. Blue eyes widened in shock when she saw a softball-sized ball of fire balanced in the blondes palm, the glow etching her features in dancing shadow.

I damn you to hell, you son of a bitch, Braxton said, every painful moment shed suffered from her father all rolled into that ball of hatred. Before he even had a chance to speak, Braxton sent the ball flying the short distance towards his face, the fire instantly consuming him.

Fletcher screamed as he stumbled back, hands covering his face, which was swiftly melting between his fingers, falling to the marble floor in sickeningly wet plops.

Braxton watched in morbid fascination, not sure what was happening, or what would happen next. Surely she hadnt killed him that easily. Sure enough, within a few moments the screams stopped, the remainder of Fletchers face falling to the floor. His hands clawed at his clothing, sending the shredded material to the floor, only for a new set of clothing to be underneath. Braxton knew that clothing, and felt her breath catch.

Markus stared back at her, the remnants of Braxtons fathers face hanging from his chin. He quickly reached up, pulling the skin away like unwanted Halloween mask. You bitch, he hissed, a fire of his own burning in the depths of his eyes. No more games. Its time to die.

I agree, Braxton said, her voice strong and filled with determination. She reached her hand out, fingers stretched, and with the flicker of a thought, her sword, which had long since been swept out of her reach, was back in hand. She grinned at its heft, swinging the blade experimentally through the air with a whoosh.

Markus grinned, his own blade appearing seemingly out of thin air. He swung it around once, then began to circle Braxton like a tiger playing with its food before pouncing. Braxton turned in a small circle, following his every move. She watched his eyes, just as Asima had taught her, and was easily able to tell when he was about to attack. She met his lunge with her own parry. The fight was on.

Markus moves were fast and concise, doing everything he could to tire the girl out, if not press any slight advantage. He was stunned at just how good she was. When Fletcher Crowley hadnt been able to bring Braxton to her knees as he thought she would, Markus had become concerned for a very brief moment. Now, he knew hed have to use pure brute strength to get her where he wanted her.

Braxton panicked slightly as she realized Markus had turned up the heat, and she was being backed up toward a wall. She knew she had to do something quick or he would have her. Tensing up every muscle and fiber in her being, she gritted her teeth, then plowed headlong into him.

Markus hit the floor with a resounding thud, his head bouncing off the floor. Within moments he had a hellcat straddling him, pounding her fists into his chest and face. Markus tried to grab Braxtons hands, but she ripped them away, landing a few choice hits in the process.

Braxton had never felt such a desire to hurt and kill in all her life. Rather than being disturbed by it, she embraced it, pummeling the blonde man beneath her. She allowed every single moment of hurt and rage to form each blow.

You will not win, you bastard! she cried at the top of her lungs. Markus tried to hide his face, head turning from side to side, head pounding against the floor. Braxtons fury took on whole new levels as Markus face melted back into Fletcher Crowley, the cold eyes glaring just before melting into Margots own eyes, looking up at her daughter, pleading for her to stop. Braxton didnt. You never tried to save me! she screamed, her palm coming into contact with the older womans face with a fierce slap. You never stopped him! Margot disappeared just long enough for Markus to return, though he had Fletchers eyes.

Asima watched in awe as Braxton literally beat the hell out of her tormentor. Markus cowed beneath her rage. The Averill had also stopped, seeming as intrigued as the guide. She held her breath as she watched the blonde grab her sword from the floor where it lay next to Markus shoulder, and with a cry of victory, planted it deep in Markus chest.

Markus screamed, an inhuman sound, as the deadly steel slipped easily into his body, the tip ticking against the marble beneath him. Braxton stared down at him, face splattered with the blood from her mauled fists and what was left of Markus face, teeth bared, eyes wild. She watched in wonder as Markus stared up at her, his eyes returning to his own brown ones. His screaming stopped, a slow, almost peaceful smile spread across his features before his eyes rolled up into his head, and he let out a long, final breath.

Asima jumped, blade at the ready at the sound all around her. One by one, the attacking Averill blew across the floor, their dust remains grainy against the polished marble. Alone, she turned back to Braxton, who was also alone. Only Markus sword remained.

Braxton, stunned and hurting, held her blade in place, her mind telling her she could still feel the solidness of Markus body around it, though she knew she was staring at nothing. Startled by a touch to her shoulder, she looked up, right into the exhausted face of her guide.

Its over, Braxton, Asima said softly, reaching a hand down to help the blonde to her feet. Once standing, Braxton let out her long-held breath, allowing her sword to fall to the floor with an echoing clang.

Its over, she echoed, forehead falling to rest against Asimas chest. She felt an arm wrap around her, a chin rest on top of her head.

Come on. Lets get out of here.

***

Braxton felt numb during the entire trek back to where shed started. The small cabin came into view, a light burning at the window. She rode behind Asima on Black Jacks back, neither saying a word since leaving the cemetery. She had so many questions, yet could not wrap her mind around what had happened that night, or what shed done. Perhaps shed ask Asima those questions tomorrow, in the light of day.

Come on, Braxton, Asima said, stopping the black beast in front of the house and dismounting, reaching up to help her charge. Braxton nearly slid off the horse, exhausted and her spirit cold. Asima held her close, running her hands through blonde hair. Are you okay?

Braxton nodded after a moment, trying to decide if she truly were okay. Asima seemed to be satisfied with her response, as the hug came to an end, and Braxtons hand was taken in a larger one. They walked toward the house in silence, Asima ushering Braxton toward the closed door that seemed to lead to nowhere. She stopped them, turning Braxton to face her, hands on the blondes shoulders.

I know you have questions and concerns, but I also know youre exhausted. Sleep tonight, Braxton. She gave the blonde a warm smile. Everything will make sense in the morning. Asima pushed the door open, revealing a small, yet sensible bedroom. The furniture was made of rough cut, sturdy wood, simple yet beautiful in its simplicity. Braxton had never seen anything look so inviting in all her life.

She looked up at Asima before stepping inside. Will you lay down with me? You must be just as exhausted as I am.

Asima nodded, placing a gentle kiss on Braxtons forehead. Yes, but I have some things I need to do first. Go on, she said, indicating the room with a wave of her hand.

Braxton took a step, but stopped, glancing at her guide from over her shoulder. You wont be gone long, right?

Asima smiled, her voice soft, Ill always be there, Braxton. Never far away.

Satisfied, Braxton turned and fully entered the bedroom. She heard the door close behind her, but was too tired to care. Stripping off her sweaty, blood-encrusted clothing, she slipped under the covers, her body screaming in agony as the muscles relaxed. The stiffness disappeared, leaving peaceful comfort in its wake. Braxton closed her eyes, allowing the darkness to take her away.

***

There was a soft beeping, continuous and soothing. Next there was a strange smell, medicinal and sterile. Braxtons nostrils twitched, her brows drawing in seeming concentration as her brain tried to focus on the smell and sound. She felt herself pulled from a great, heavy darkness, a small bit of fear making the fingers on her right hand flex, fingers feeling smooth cotton beneath their tips. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt as though glue had been swept onto her lids, making them heavy and slightly gummy. Finally, after a moment struggle, she was able to break the seal, blinking slowly as a small circle of green light came into focus.

Braxton realized she was looking at a machine of some sort, the green light beginning to clear until she saw that it was shaped like a heart. Her heart. Beep, beep, beep

Turning her head away from it, Braxton looked down the length of her body, seeing the outline of her legs and feet underneath a thin blanket. Her arms were at her side, one hand with an IV sticking out of it. It was uncomfortable. She was cold.

Opening her mouth, she tried to speak, but nothing but a painful croak came out. Her lips hurt, dry and cracked. Slowly her tongue slipped out, wetting them, though it did little good as her mouth was dry, her throat parched. She tried a few more times before a small sound slipped out.

Hello? she said weakly. The door to her room was open, light spilling in a rectangle just inside the room. She saw people walking by, nurses mostly, dressed in their colorful scrubs. Hello? she said again, her voice a bit stronger. Can someone help me? Please?

Part 7

Jared groaned as he started awake. Then he groaned again as the light pouring in through the window hurt his eyes, opened at half-mass. He lifted himself to his elbow, reaching across Karens still-sleeping form to grab his chirping cell phone from the bedside table on her side.

Flopping to his back once it was in hand, he flipped it open. Hello? he muttered, eyes automatically closing again, only to pop open a second later. He shot up in bed, wide awake now. What?

Karen rolled over to face her boyfriend, his tone piquing her curiosity. She placed a hand on his bare thigh in silent support.

Give me five minutes. Without even saying goodbye, Jared slapped his phone shut and jumped out of bed, quickly looking for his clothing, carelessly strewn around the room the night before.

Everything okay? Karen asked, also climbing out of bed.

Braxtons awake, Jared said, distracted as he tugged on his jeans.

Youre kidding! Karen also began to dress. How long?

She woke around two this morning. Been up ever since. Jared glanced at his wristwatch. Six hours, now. He almost felt giddy as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make some semblance of order to the blonde strands.

Within fifteen minutes they were pulling into the hospital parking lot. Karen held Jareds hand as they rushed into the building. She supported him and was glad Braxton had awakened, but there was a part of her that was nervous about what would happen now. In the months since theyd been together, she had grown to care for him very much, and feared she had actually begun to fall in love with him. Though she knew he cared about her, she had also heard the many stories from the girls at the house, or from Jared himself, about the crazy things the best friends had done together. The love in Jareds voice was obvious, and admittedly, painful.

As Jared and Karen rushed through the familiar halls of the facility, they met up with a slower moving Margot, accompanied by Lydia. The four hurried along, all staying with Braxtons mother, who was nearly beside herself. Her prayers had been answered, and her little girl awoke before Fletcher came to take her away.

Braxton was sitting up in bed when the clan turned the corner into her room. She was doing her best to finish her breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage. The toast was already gone, as it was easy on her stomach. She glanced up, her eyes immediately lighting up when she saw Jared, then her mother.

Jared wanted to rush to the blonde, but knew that wasnt his place. He stepped aside and made room for Margot, who quickly took her daughter in her arms, her sobs loud as she held Braxton close.

Braxton closed her eyes, reveling in the embrace, even through her surprise of seeing her mother there. The nurses had told her very little, except that she had been in a car accident and had been in a coma for just about the entire summer. She remembered none of this, and felt disoriented and confused.

Ive been so worried, honey, Margot said, wiping her face as she finally, reluctantly released the girl. I prayed God would bring you back to us every day. We all did, she said, indicating the small group behind her. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the still-silent Braxtons forehead, and made room for Jared.

Hey, he said, not sure what to expect. Would Braxton be angry at him? Hate him? Would she blame him for not standing by her, allowing her to be upset alone? He knew hed never forgive himself for it.

Jared, Braxton said, her voice weak and slightly throaty from the lack of use. She accepted his hug with gusto. He was the one person who could make her feel better no matter what, and his embrace was like a balm to her very confused soul.

We were so worried, he whispered into her hair, holding her head tight against his chest. Im so sorry, Brax.

Braxton was confused, and gently pulled away. Sorry for what? she asked, tired green eyes looking into equally tired blue ones.

Jared could see the confusion on Braxtons face, and though it seemed he had a reprieve, he knew it would have to be brief. He needed to explain and apologize, but now wasnt the time. He smiled, brushing a few strands of stringy blonde hair out of her face. Nothing. Well talk later.

Satisfied for the moment, Braxton nodded. Her gaze wondered to the others-a woman she didnt recognize with dark, curly hair, and Lydia. She smiled at her roommate, reaching for her. The quiet girl quickly stepped up, taking her hug then pulling away. Its been quiet without you, Brax, Lydia said, grinning at the playful, but weak smack she received.

You look tired, honey, Margot said, once again taking Braxtons bedside. She held her daughters hand in her own, relishing the warmth she felt in the pale skin.

Braxton nodded. I am. They tell me Ive been sleeping for months. Youd think Id be awake enough now to go run a marathon. She stifled a yawn. I do get to go take a shower later today, though, they said. Her face scrunched up. I feel disgusting. She met Jareds amused eyes, and was surprised to see him standing next to the strange brunette, an arm around her waist. The attractive woman leaned into him. Thats new.

Jared saw Braxtons glance, and quickly made introductions. Braxton, this is Karen. She was actually one of the nurses who took care of you while you were in ICU.

Karen stepped forward, truly glad to see her former patient awake and cognizant. Braxton, its so wonderful to finally meet you. Lord knows Ive heard enough stories from these three, she indicated Jared, Margot and Lydia. She bent down and gave the blonde a quick hug. Im so glad to see youre okay. It was hairy there for awhile.

Thank you, Braxton said quietly, still uncertain about how she felt about what shed seen. Were Karen and Jared just friends? Grown close after so much time spent in the hospital? She shook the thought out of her head; far too much to think about after finding shed been asleep for three months.

***

Braxton stood in the center of her bedroom, taking in the bed, her dresser, backpack sitting on the floor against the wall. A stack of mail had been placed on top of the small entertainment center that was tucked up next to the closet.

She didnt want to read her mail. She didnt want to dig through her backpack. She didnt want to see what had been salvaged from her destroyed car, though she did notice her high school graduation tassel, which had been hanging from her rearview mirror.

A soft knock sounded on the doorframe to the open door. Braxton turned to see Jared standing with his shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his shoulder. Hey, he said, unsure what to do. Always welcome in Braxtons room, somehow things were different now, not only because his best friend somehow seemed different, but also because of Karen.

Hi.

Can I come in? At Braxtons nod, Jared pushed off the frame and stepped into the room. He looked around. The room looked the exact same as it had the entire time theyd lived in the house, but somehow it seemed cold and impersonal. It lacked Braxtons life force, instead replaced by Margots, who wasnt fully alive in her own right.

I feel so strange, Braxton said quietly, hugging herself, glancing over at the mirror above the dresser. She took in her pallid complexion and thin frame. Her hair looked dull, the strands short and standing up crazily all over her head. The new hairstyle had been a shock. Over the three months she was asleep it had grown into something shaggy and unkempt, unlike her usual long, simple style.

In what way? Jared asked, walking over to his friend and looking down at her. He wanted badly to take her into his arms and make sure she was truly okay.

Braxton shook her head. I dont know. I just dont feel like me. She took the final step forward, bringing her into Jareds personal space. She rested her forehead against his chest. Jared wrapped his arms around her, feeling protective of her vulnerability.

Braxton glanced over toward the bed, noticing her mothers suitcase discretely hidden by the nightstand. Did she arrive today? she asked.

Who?

My mother.

No. Shes been here since the night of the accident.

Braxton snorted, pulling away from her best friend and walking over to the window, once again hugging herself. Thats a shock. Cant believe she managed to pull herself away from the church and God and all that. She could pull herself away from him.

Jared wasnt a stranger to the dead tone in Braxtons voice when she spoke of her parents. Her mother in particular. Its not like that this time, Brax. Your mom stood up to him a few days ago. He saw the look of confusion on Braxtons face, and could tell she was about to speak. Jared rushed on. Fletcher came here, Brax, demanding your mom go back home with him, be his wife or some shit. She refused to go.

For how long?

Until you woke up. That was all she could bargain for, Jared said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Braxton snorted. Well, Im awake. She can go, now.

Dont be that way, Brax. She really loves you. Not everyone can be as strong as you are.

Strong? There was no humor in her laughter. Im not strong. Braxton felt a sudden anger infuse her, making her skin prickle. Im so fucking strong that I allowed myself to become so fucking upset over that piece of shit. I was goddamn strong that I look like a fucking ghost right now who hasnt eaten in three fucking months! her voice rose with each word until she was nearly shouting.

Jared could only stare, stunned. The doctors had told them that Braxton may seem different when she woke, may not be quite herself, or irritable. Even so, he was still taken aback. Brax, hold on. He walked over to her, turning her to face him with a hand on her shoulder. Calm down.

I am calm! Braxton cried, her anger flaring even more as her tears came. I feel like Im suffering from the worst PMS ever, she sobbed. She allowed herself to be drawn back into Jareds embrace. Im sorry, she whined, the words muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

Jared hid his smile as he rested his chin on top of the golden head. Youve been through an extremely traumatic experience. Dont worry about it. Youve got nothing to be sorry for. Youre gonna get through this, and all your friends are here for you, too. Okay? Braxton nodded into the hug. You know, there was a train of people who came to see you. Even Dr. Parr.

Dr. Parr hates me.

He hates everyone, Brax, unless youre an economics geek like him.

What about

 Braxton couldnt bring herself to say it.

Jared sighed, knowing damn well who his friend was asking about. He cleared his throat to forestall his answer. No. Andrew didnt come.

Figures. Braxton pulled away after a quick, but firm squeeze. She sighed, pulling out clothing from her dresser drawers. Im craving a hot shower like nothing else.

Didnt you take one at the hospital before you left?

Yeah, but they have that crappy, cheap soap. Left my skin dry. Braxton looked at herself again in the mirror. God, my hair looks like shit. She ran a hand back and forth through the short strands, Jared chuckling from behind her when the hair stood up more than it did before. Its so shaggy. I should just get it cut short and start over.

You shouldve seen it when they first cut it, Jared said with a grin. You looked like a freakin porcupine.

Great, thanks, Jar. Now get the hell out so I can get naked.

***

The house was alive with joyous voices, food served and eaten, along with drinks of the non-alcoholic variety, per Braxtons request. She held a plastic cup of lemonade in her hand as she wandered through the throngs of people, all of whom were well-wishers, come to celebrate her miraculous immersion back into the world of the living.

She surrounded by all the people in her life that cared about her: friends, her mother, and acquaintances from school, including a few of her professors. So why did she feel so alone?

Hey, girl! Alicia exclaimed, grabbing her roommate and friend in a ferocious hug. Shed been with her boyfriend for the past couple days, and it was the first time shed seen Braxton, though shed spoken with her on the phone three times already. Braxton groaned as her ribs were nearly broken from the enthusiastic woman. How are you? the Latina woman asked, pulling back just enough to look into tired green eyes.

Im good. Glad to be home.

Im glad youre home, too, sweetie. Another hug brought a grunt from the blonde. A quick kiss on the cheek, and Alicia disappeared into the throngs of people.

Looks like all your friends are glad to have you back, honey, Margot said, taking Alicias place next to Braxton. She wrapped an arm around the younger womans waist and held her close. Margot felt almost giddy, despite her phone call from Fletcher earlier. She would be packing her bag for the final time after the party broke up.

Im glad to be home, too, Mom. Braxton smiled down at the older woman, who looked better than she had ever seen her look. She thought about what Jared had said earlier, about what her mother had done in order to stay with her. Look, Mom, um, she paused, gathering her thoughts. Her relationship with her mother hadnt always been easy. In fact, it had been downright hostile at times, mainly because of Fletcher Crowley. Though she wanted nothing more than to yell at her mother, scorn her for her weakness, at the moment all she could manage was a smile. Thanks for being here.

Margot took her daughter in a warm, motherly embrace. I wouldnt be anywhere else, sweetheart. She kissed her on the cheek. I love you.

Love you, too, Mamma, Braxton murmured, eyes closing as she reveled in the affection. She felt like she was ten years old again, so desperate for a mothers love and acceptance.

Suddenly there was a murmur that spread through the crowd until silence reigned. Bodies parted as a figure passed through, stopping in front of mother and daughter. Braxton gasped at the sight of her father, a strange piercing pain slicing through her chest that left her nearly breathless, and certainly confused. His dark, cold eyes found wide green ones, then swiftly moved to Margot.

Its time to go home, he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Now, you wait a minute, Mr. Crowley, Jared said, appearing out of the crowd. She can go home when shes good and ready. Braxton just woke up yester-

Its okay, Jared, Margot said, sending a gentle smile his way. Ill go. She turned to her daughter, hugging her one more time, whispering into the embrace, Its easier this way.

Braxton nodded, understanding, yet still feeling a bit raw by the sudden appearance of the man shed feared and partially hated her entire life.

Margot moved to hug and thank all of Braxtons roommates, one by one, before disappearing up the stairs, only to return a moment later with her single suitcase. Without a word, she followed her equally silent husband back through the crowd, and out into the late summer night.

Jesus. That dude an undertaker? someone asked, breaking the deafening silence.

No, Braxton said, watching through a window as her parents sedan drove off into the night. That was my father.

Tension hung heavily in the air, an unseen weight pressing upon everyone in the house. The party slowly began to break, everyone offering Braxton hugs and kisses and wishes to get well soon. They all hoped to see her back on campus the following month. Soon it was just the five roommates, and a house full of trash bags filled with papers plates, cups and napkins.

That went well, Carrie said, flopping down next to Lydia on the couch, sitting across from where Jared and Braxton sat, the blondes head on her best friends shoulder. Alicia took the armchair.

Good times, Lydia agreed, picking some lint off the toe of her left sock.

I found my replacement, Alicia said, meeting all eyes, lingering on Braxtons. Seeing the blondes confusion, Jared explained.

Al is moving in with the boyfriend, finally, but she didnt want to do it until we knew what was going to happen with you. You know, leaving us two short on rent, rather than just one.

Oh, jeez, guys! Im so sorry! Braxton exclaimed, her hands covering her mouth. A chorus rose, all pushing away Braxtons unnecessary apology.

We figured it out, girl, Carrie said, moving so she was lying across the cushions, her head resting in Lydias lap. Lydia absently ran her fingers through the strands of her hair.

I call Als room! Jared yelled, Carrie and Lydia groaning. He glanced at Braxton. Unless Brax wants it.

Alicia laughed. Youre such a sap, Jared. Jeez.

Jared grinned, patting the shoulder which his arm rested around. Yeah, well

 Alicias room was the largest in the house, and had its own bathroom. Besides, if I take it, I dont have to find wrapped up maxi pads in the trash anymore. The group laughed, Braxton smacking him on the chest. What, its true. And gross.

Well, get used to it, buddy. Youll see it again when Karen comes to visit and is on the rag, Carrie grinned evilly.

Yeah, whats going on with that, anyway? Braxton asked, lifting her head from Jareds shoulder. She was one of my nurses, right? Are you two

dating? She wasnt sure why she stumbled over the word. At his nod, she felt a stab of jealousy. Oh.

Theyre a cute couple, Lydia said wistfully, her head falling to rest on the back of the couch.

Weve been seeing each other for a couple months, Jared quietly explained. He almost felt guilty at the reveal.

Why didnt you tell me?

Carrie, Lydia and Alicia glanced at each other, passing knowing looks, then quietly slipped away. Ill never understand why those two never hooked up, Carrie whispered as she followed her friends to the kitchen.

Braxton turned so she was facing him, her legs curled up under her. Is it serious?

Jared wasnt sure what to say; should he tell her the truth? Lie about it? Play it off for less than it was? No. He decided both Karen and Braxton deserved the truth. Yeah, I kinda think it is.

Braxton had seen Jared with other women before. Plenty. But for some reason, seeing him with Karen that day in the hospital room, the way they interacted with each other, had left her with butterflies in her stomach. It was ridiculous, she knew because Braxton knew that if anything were ever going to happen between her and Jared, it already would have. Hed wanted it for years, that much she knew. She also knew that no matter how shed tried to imagine herself with him, beyond the incredibly close friendship they had, she came up empty.

Is that okay? Jared asked, growing nervous, and his guilt building the longer Braxtons silence remained. She looked at him, blinking a few times as though just realizing he were there, and then seemed to shake herself out of wherever shed just gone.

Braxton plastered a smile onto her face and nodded. Yes, of course its okay, Jar. I dont own you, and I want nothing but for you to be happy. You should bring Karen by one of these days so I can meet her. Well, meet her better than I did in the hospital.

Jared nodded, uncertain. Okay.

Well, I for one am exhausted. Braxton sighed, pushing herself to her feet. God, I swear I have no energy. This really sucks.

Jared stood, immediately offering assistance to keep the blonde steady. You okay?

Yeah. She hugged Jared tight then kissed him on the cheek. Good night. She headed for the stairs, then turned, grinning. Oh, and you can take Alicias room. I really dont want to have to listen to you grunt during sex like I did with Sheryl. She wrinkled her nose to emphasize her point. Jared laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Thanks for everything, Jared. Youre the best friend I could ever have.

Right back atcha, Brax. Night.

***

Braxton woke up gasping, her heart pounding, terror in her heart and a name forgotten on her tongue. She sat up in bed, looking around her darkened bedroom, hand on her chest. Her tank top was plastered to her by sweat, the sheets tangled around her body.

Reality slowly seeped in, and she realized she was safe and awake, her nightmare forgotten. Again. Every night since shed woken from her coma had been a test of resilience as her slumbering steps were dogged by demons that haunted her every dream, her every sleeping breath. Every time she would wake, she always had the same name on her tongue, but just out of reach, unable to recall it, though she felt its importance to her somehow.

God, this sucks, she groaned, tossing her legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the floor. She scooted them around until her toes touched the soft material of her slippers, and slipped them inside. She slipped out of her soggy tank top, tugging a fresh one over her head, as well as a pair of mesh soccer shorts and headed downstairs into the darkened house.

She rolled her eyes as she heard the soft moans coming from Carries bedroom, Lydias bedroom door opened. She didnt understand her two roommates relationship, which seemed more like friends with occasional benefits, but whatever floated their collective boats.

Braxton opened the fridge door, squinting at the sudden light that illuminated the kitchen from it. Picking out a bottle of fruit-flavored water, she slammed the door shut and twisted the cap, taking a long, much-needed drink. The night beyond the window over the sink was quiet and still, the moon a bright sliver above the neighbors house across the street. One thing that amazed Braxton since shed awakened was how bright and vivid everything was. She seemed to be seeing the world with all new senses: everything was brighter, smelled better, was louder and clearer. Everything felt better to the touch, more pronounced and defined. She felt reborn.

Hey, Carrie said softly, padding into the kitchen. She wore a long t-shirt, and not much else underneath. Braxton looked away, feeling somewhat shy and embarrassed after what she had heard, knowing what Carrie had just done.

Hi. What are you doing up?

Needed a drink, Carrie said, sheepishly holding up the two bottles of beer she pulled from the fridge. Braxton gave her a conspiratorial wink, then sipped from her water.

So, whos the new roomy? Ill be so sad to see Alicia go.

Me, too. Not sure who she is. Some chick Al knows. Dont think shes a student, though.

Hmm, Braxton hummed absently.

Well, night, girl. Carrie smiled, then was off, a door clicking closed in the distance.

Part 8

Braxton stared straight ahead, a gentle hand resting on her knee.

are you sure about this? Jared asked softly. At his friends nod, he opened his door, taking a deep breath before sliding out from behind the wheel. The day was hot, and he was glad hed put on a pair of cargo shorts rather than the jeans Braxton wore. But then again, since shed come home from the hospital a week and a half ago, Braxton was usually buried in clothing: thick sweats, sweatshirts, jeans and sweaters. He wasnt sure how she wasnt burning up to death in the late summer heat.

Braxton, for her part, was nervous, her palms sweating. She eyed the chain length fence surrounding the junkyard, a few weeds poking through towards the ground. She wiped her palms on her jeans, not feeling the August sun beating down on her head and t-shirt-clad shoulders.

Ready? Jared asked from beside her. Braxton nodded, not taking her eyes off the junk that lay beyond the fence.

They walked toward the opened gate, the distant barking of a dog floating on the breeze, as well as the quiet murmurings of two men deeper into the yard. Jared pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it and turning it so the writing was right side up.

Okay, he said that it was back in quadrant B. He looked around for a sign or map. So, where the hell is quadrant B?

Over here, Braxton led them over to a long piece of plywood that had been mounted to the fence, an aged map of the junkyard printed on it. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper, using her finger to lead the way. She tapped an area marked in faded orange. Here it is. She glanced out over the yard to find the corresponding area. Back that way. Come on. She grabbed Jareds hand to get him following, dropping it once he was beside her.

They walked in step with each other, both quiet. Braxtons thoughts were a whirlwind of activity in her head. Over the last week, shed gotten herself settled back into life, people dropping by the house on a daily basis to say hello and wish her well. That surprised her, as shed never realized how many people in her life she actually talked to on a daily basis, and who apparently cared.

Did you go to the crash site? she asked quietly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her loose jeans. Shed been told that shed dropped far too much weight in her ordeal, and Braxton could tell, as everything was huge on her. In some ways she liked that; swimming in baggy clothing was almost like a constant hug.

Yeah, Jared said, starting to feel very uncomfortable. That was one image he did not want in his head to start with, let alone to have to relive.

Was it bad?

Brax, you really dont want to hear the details. I dont want to upset you.

If I would be upset by it, Jared, I wouldnt have asked, Braxton snapped, brows drawing in frustration.

Jared managed to bite off his retort when he saw the orange bomb come into view. Well, what was left of it, anyway. He felt a fist grip his heart and squeeze, leaving him breathless. Braxton saw the car at close to the same time, her face paling even more than it already was.

My god, she whispered, slowly approaching what had become a giant piece of orange scrap.

Jared wanted to comfort his friend, but he was still stung from her biting words. Normally laid back by nature, the past week and a half had been trying for him. Yes, the doctors had told them that Braxton may not be herself, and yes they said she may even be somewhat moody or sometimes combative, but Jesus! Just about every other word out of her mouth, when she spoke that is, was some sort of biting remark or bit of sarcasm. So he wouldnt lose his own temper, her stood back, allowing Braxton to deal with this on her own. If it looked like she were going to fall, hed pick her up. As usual.

Braxton stopped her forward progress, taking in the clump before her. The only thing on the car that still resembled a car, was the back end. One taillight section was still in place, the other smashed beyond recognition. The front right fender was nothing more than a squashed soda can. All the windows were busted out, or hanging on a thread, except the left rear window, which strangely, didnt have a scratch on it.

She slowly made her way around toward the front of the car, noting the windshield, which was still scattered across a lonely country lane. Bits of dried blood could still be seen around the edges of the window frame. She reached out a finger, touching the sun-warmed metal, yanking her finger back almost as if it had been shocked:

She could feel the wind in her hair, forced in through the shattered windshield. She holds on, the steering wheel cutting into her palms, she holds on so tight. A scream, wrenched from her throat as she feels her stomach roiling as the car makes another roll. Free. She feels her body life, then the pain of a stinging cut as shards of broken glass tear into the skin of her face and arms. Flying

Braxton gasped, a hand reaching to cover her stomach, as nausea gripped her. She hurried to a pile of scrap, her stomach rebelling in a stream of liquid goo that landed with a sickening plop.

Taking several deep breaths, Braxton felt a comforting hand on her back, rubbing slow circles. Its okay, Jared murmured,

Gulping in fresh air, Braxton wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, wiping it on her jeans, then meeting concerned blue eyes. Jesus, Jared. How the hell did this happen?

Jared shook his head. Not sure. The cops think maybe you almost hit something. Thats what your tracks show, anyway. They were all over the place, till finally the orange bomb plowed off a slight incline.

Braxton glanced once more at the car before turning away, beginning to walk back toward the gate, and the safety beyond. I dont remember. I dont think I want to.

***

The house was abuzz with excitement when Jared pulled his car to the curb. A van was parked in the driveway, the sliding side door and back double doors open. Boxes were stacked inside, along with miscellaneous stuff-pillows, plastic grocery bags and a white dry erase board.

Looks like the new roomy is moving in, Braxton muttered absently as she trotted up the stairs to the porch. Inside, Alicia was hugging Carrie.

Hey, you two. So glad you got home. Im outta here. Alicia grabbed Jared and Braxton, bringing them together in a group hug, which Carrie joined. Gonna miss you, stud, she said, placing a solid kiss on Jareds lips. She then turned to Braxton, giving her a second hug, holding her close. Take care of yourself, Brax, she whispered into short, blonde hair. Please.

Braxton nodded, eyes closed as she absorbed the embrace. Alicia had been their first roommate, and a close friend. Shed miss her greatly, but was happy for her newfound happiness.

Be happy, Al, she said, pulling away from the darker woman, just enough to look up into smiling brown eyes. Be beautiful, and come back and see us. One final hug, she let Alicia go.

Jared stood back, having more than enough of the love fest going on before him. He glanced over towards the stairs, mouth falling open when he saw the woman standing at the top. Faded jeans hugged narrow hips, holes torn in the knees. A flat belly was well documented by the tight, ribbed tank top, which swelled into firm, unhindered breasts. Light brown hair fell around strong shoulders. But what got Jared the most were the piercing blue eyes that was taking in the scene down in the living room. He caught her gaze, which held for a moment before she turned, breaking the contact, then disappeared into Jareds old room.

Holy shit, he whispered.

What? Braxton asked, following his gaze and seeing nothing but an empty stairs landing.

Nothing. Jared glanced over at Carrie, curious to what her reaction would be to the new girl. The small brunette had obviously seen the new roomy, too. He smirked when she met his gaze, sticking her tongue out at him before turning and heading to her room.

Braxtons attention turned up toward the stairs again when she heard muffled music from a stereo start. Turning her attention back to her roommates, she faked a smile, wanting nothing more than to be alone after the afternoon shed spent with Jared. She felt edgy and irritable. Grabbing a water from the fridge, she headed upstairs, leaving her friends to stare after her.

Door closed firmly behind her, Braxton grabbed the remote for her TV, flicking on Court TV and tossing the remote to the bed. She walked over to the window, sipping her water as she watched Alicia climb into her boyfriends car, then speed off into the later afternoon.

Turning away, she flopped down next to her remote, stretching to reach her college brochure from the bedside table. She was due on campus the following morning to sign up for her classes. As she searched through the catalogue of courses, her advisor circling the ones she suggested Braxton take, the blonde realized that not one single class interested her. Shed gone to college because shed wanted to go, wanted to get out of Ivanwood. She hadnt stopped to think about what she actually wanted to do once she got there.

It had been a struggle within her own mind for three years. Her advisor had suggested she take one of those tests whose results would tell you what the taker is good at, and where they belong career-wise. Braxtons results had pointed toward a career in English. The problem was, she hated her classes, and had no idea what to do with that degree once shed earned it. Her options were basically to go into teaching, which held no personal appeal, or to go into some sort of writing, i.e. journalism. No thanks.

Braxton sighed, turning over onto her stomach, flipping through the catalogue. Legs bent, her feet lazily swinging, clicking against each other. Grabbing a pen from the bedside table, she tucked it between her teeth, absently chewing as she perused her choices. Her brows drew as the music next door grew louder, vibrating the wall that her and her new roommate shared. She tried to ignore it, but after a few moments her irritation outweighed the need to not make waves.

Rolling off the bed, Braxton walked over to the wall and pounded with her fist. After a moment, the music still hadnt stopped. She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. Damn it.

Braxton headed to the door, throwing it open and walking the few steps to the door that was the wall perpendicular to her own. Hey, she called, trying to be heard through the door and above the music. Her fist followed, pounding three times. No answer. She was about to pound again when the door was pulled open. Braxton stepped back, pinned to the spot by two very blue, and very irritated eyes. She said nothing, just waited. I need you to turn the music down. Im in the room next door, Braxton pointed toward her open door. Its a little loud.

The woman stared at her for a moment, then stepped back into her room, muttering an apology before the door was closed in Braxtons face.

Jesus, shes rude, she growled, slamming her own bedroom door. Immediately the music was turned off, silence reigning. Braxton started as the door next to hers was yanked open, heavy steps slamming down the stairs, then more silence.

***

Damn, this car is touchy, Braxton muttered, grimacing as she ground the gears in Jareds borrowed car. She wasnt used to a stick, and was immensely relieved once she reached the college campus. She was afraid Jareds transmission would fall out before she got it parked.

Cutting the ignition, she stepped out into the warm late morning air, staring off into the sky. She looked forward to winter, preferring snow to the hot sun any day. Before she locked the car door, she shrugged out of her zippered hoodie, tossing it to the passenger seat before slamming the door shut and heading off toward the admin building where her advisor was going to meet her.

Walking down the halls, which were quiet as summer classes had ended, and it was still a couple weeks before the fall term began, was strange for Braxton. It felt good, though. It was something she was used to, something that felt right and familiar. Her shoes thudded dully on the polished tile before muffled steps walked over burbur carpet as Braxton reached the conference room that branched off the registry area.

Hi, Brax. Welcome back, Dr. Martha Reynolds said from the round table she was sitting at. She indicated the orange, plastic chair that was placed across from her own. Have a seat.

Braxton sat down, tossing the catalogue shed been studying the night before on the table. Hey, Dr. Rey. How goes it?

Good. Interesting new do, the older woman said, taking in the short blonde hair, the bangs of which had fallen into green eyes.

Yeah, well

 she ran her hand shyly through the short locks. I wouldnt recommend a head wound. Not all its cracked up to be.

Martha chuckled, opening the file folder that was sitting on the table in front of her. Okay, kiddo. Lets get down to business. I was thinking that the Ethnic Lit-

I want to change my major.

Martha glanced up, looking over the rims of her reading glasses. Excuse me? I dont think I heard you right.

You heard me right, Dr. Rey. I dont want to do this anymore. English. She flipped open the catalogue shed perused the night before. I think these kind of look interesting, she tapped the page shed dog eared.

Braxton, these are art classes.

I know. Braxton studied her hands for a moment, which were fidgeting together on the table, folding and unfolding her catalogue. When I was a kid, I always wanted to be an artist, she said softly, unable to meet her advisors gaze. I used to draw all the time.

Why didnt you pursue it? Martha asked just as softly.

Finally Braxton looked up. I wasnt allowed to. Braxton cleared her throat nervously, again looking away.

Martha studied the girl sitting across from her for a long moment. She remembered when shed first met with Braxton, three years ago. The young girl, fresh off the farm from the rural streets had been so frightened, barely able to meet anyones gaze. She had a shy smile, and her beautiful green eyes had been filled with careful optimism and awe of her new surroundings outside, what Martha suspected, was an overbearing parents reach.

When the professor had heard about the accident that had happened on the last day of classes, she had been devastated. Finding out that Braxton had survived it, and had regained her consciousness had been a happy day for Martha Reynolds. She cared about Braxton Crowley. The woman sitting across from her now didnt resemble that girl at all. In many ways, she didnt recognize Braxton at all.

You know this will set you back. Probably a semester, maybe an entire year, Dr. Reynolds cautioned.

Braxton nodded in understanding. I know. I just cant do this, she said, indicating the circled classes in front of Martha. Ill never be happy in English.

Okay. Martha smiled, understanding shining in her gray eyes. Lets get you set up. She reached across the table, patting Braxtons hand.

***

A new schedule on the passenger seat of Jareds car, and a smile on her face, Braxton pulled on her sunglasses and cranked up the cars impressive stereo system. She tapped her fingers against the wheel as she drove through town, checking out what had been missed for the entire summer. She saw people walking the sidewalks, kids laughing and carrying on together. A man mowing his lawn, baseball cap shading his face from the intense rays of the midday sun. she outright laughed at a group of kids who were having a water fight with balloons and a hose. They screamed and laughed as they enjoyed the careless days of summer break. Little did they know of the responsibilities they would soon face in the real world.

Driving past the park that was near the house, Braxton noticed a familiar looking van parked in the lot. Its driver sat on the grass, back against a tree. The light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, dark sunglasses covering what Braxton knew were blue eyes. Their newest roommate seemed to be relaxing in the mild temperatures, long legs encased in cargo shorts.

Braxton slowed, curious as to what the solitary woman was doing. Shed only seen her the one time the night before. She didnt even know what her name was. She certainly hoped the woman wasnt as unfriendly as she appeared, or it was going to suck in the house. That was one thing that Braxton had always felt fortunate about; everyone got along, and had been close. Carrie, Lydia, Alicia and Jared were the only ones she socialized with. Other than Andrew and his loser group of friends, that is.

Driving on, Braxtons thoughts roamed from the new roomie to her ex. She hadnt heard from nor seen him since the fateful night of his party. He hadnt shown up at the hospital during the entire time shed been in her coma, nor had he gotten hold of anyone to see how she was doing.

Asshole, she muttered.

***

Margot pulled the plug in the chipped double sink in the kitchen. As she watched the dish-dirty water swirl down the drain, she leaned on the counter, clearing her mind of any thoughts. She could hear Fletcher off in the living room, the tissue paper-thin pages of his bible turning every once in awhile as he read through Mark. He was jotting down notes for his sermon coming up on Sunday.

She quickly rinsed the suds out of the sink before her husband yelled at her for using too much water, her gaze flickering to the window in front of her. The night beyond acted as a wonderful mirror to keep tabs on him. She could see his somewhat fuzzy reflection, bent over his work, the lamp light next to him showing off his thinning hair.

The freshly washed knife in the strainer caught Margots attention, the overhead light glinting off the blade. She closed her eyes, trying to push the fantasy from her mind. More and more lately, especially since returning from her time with Braxton, Margots mind had been filled with unpleasant thoughts. Things she should never be considering. No good, Christian woman would.

You dont in there? Fletcher called out from the living room. Youre burnin electricity, Woman. Come on in here if you need the light.

Margots eyes squeezed shut. Be there in a moment, she called out softly, though knew Fletcher heard her from the stillness in the house. Gotta dry the dishes, she said absently, her hand reaching out for the knife, fingers wrapping around the worn wooden handle. It felt heavy and sturdy in her hand, a droplet of water rolling down to melt into her hand.

What was that? Fletcher asked from the doorway, tugging off his wire rims.

Margot started in surprise, guilt making her drop the knife back into the sink. Uh, she said, swallowing several times. I said I need to dry the dishes. She glanced at her husband over her shoulder. Would you like some dessert? Coffee, maybe?

Fletcher studied the woman whod been sleeping next to him for the past twenty-odd years, wondering what was wrong. He saw a stranger staring back at him. Margots eyes darted to and fro, unable to keep his stare. No, he finally said. Just turn out the lights when youre done.

Okay. Honey. Margot forced a smile, which faded as Fletcher turned around and walked out of the room. He plopped down in his chair, the aged springs groaning slightly under the tall mans weight.

Part 9

The shadows were deep, far too deep to peer through. Braxton could feel her heart pounding, the cold hardness of whatever she hid behind seeping into her back. She closed her eyes, holding her breath. Dont let him find me. Please, oh please, dont let him find me.

She craned her neck, trying to peek further into the darkness. A shadow. Shape. Glowing red eyes. With a gasp, she pressed herself back against her hiding spot. She could feel a cold sweat break out over her palms and trickle down her spine and between her breasts. She wanted to cry as her fear began to grow, breath harder and harder to capture.

Braxton screamed as cold fingers found their way to her throat-

Braxtons scream echoed in her head and bedroom as she shot up in bed, covered in sweat, eyes wide and wild. She started when she saw the figure at the side of her bed. Christ, you scared me! she flared.

Sorry, the low voice said. You were having a nightmare.

Yeah, no shit. Braxton blew out a loud breath, instantly feeling bad. She glanced at her reclusive roommate. Sorry. Did you wake me? The woman nodded. Thank you. Braxton ran her hands through her hair, brows drawing. Hey, whats your name, anyway? Youve been living here for three weeks, and we never see you.

The brunette stood to her full height, grinning down at the disheveled blonde. Becca.

Nice to finally meet you, Becca. Even if it is under crappy circumstances. Im Braxton.

Becca hesitated for a moment before taking the proffered hand. Nice to meet you. You okay now?

Braxton nodded. Yeah. Sorry to wake you.

Becca smirked. Makes up for all the times you told me turn down my music. Night.

Night.

Left alone again, Braxton flopped back down into the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. Shadows and shapes played across it as a car drove by outside, the headlights moving the night images.

Pushing the sheet aside, her feet hit the floor with a dull thud, looking around. She saw her sketchpad on the chair near the window and grabbed it. She had an unfinished drawing for class, and the inspiration that had been lacking earlier in the night raged through her body.

By the light of the moonlight, she began to sketch, curled up in the chair that unbeknownst to her, Margot Crowley had favored during her stay with the roommates. Her hand scribbled furiously across the page, images bursting to life from the shadows of her memory. Gruesome faces lurked, watching her every move, every stroke. Fifteen minutes later she gasped, Becca looking back at her from her sketchpad. She looked into the eyes, far more intense than her roommates, an almost dangerous quality to them. The hair was dark, nearly black in the world of color.

Braxton sat back in the chair, studying the world shed created around the large face at the center. A cemetery, endless rows of stones, forgotten and dreary. It certainly reflected her mood of late, as well as the circumstances of a month ago. But was that all there was to it? Had she merely drawn what was in her heart, in her life currently?

Somewhat disturbed and uncomfortable, Braxton ripped the page from the pad, about to crumble it in her hands when she stopped, holding it up to the light of the window, studying her handiwork. With a heavy sigh, her exhaustion beginning to make her eyelids droop once more, she put the drawing away in a safe place, then crawled back into bed.

***

Jared accepted the bit of quasedilla from Karens fingers, kissing the tips before chewing contentedly. She sat on his lap where they sat in the oversized armchair. He ignored his roommates eyerolls at the gesture. Braxton was curled up in the corner of the couch, her sketchpad balanced on her knees, only half listening while Carrie went on and on about the virtues of Becca.

Im telling you, she said emphatically, sipping from her bottle of Mikes Hard Lemonade, she the like the fucking hottest chick ever! She flopped back against the couch cushions behind her. Man, Id love to- she stopped herself, face flushing as red as the couch beneath her ass.

Braxton glanced up to see what had caught her horny roommates attention. A grin split her face as Carries object of just traipsed into the room. Karen and Jared tried to muffle their chuckles.

Hey, Becca, Jared said brightly. The new roommate nodded acknowledgement at his greeting. Come join us.

Becca walked to the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room, thumbs tucked into the back pockets of her ripped jeans. She tossed her weight onto a hip. What are you doing?

Just sitting around, chewing the fat.

Watching Jared feed and water his pet, Lydia muttered, making Carrie and Braxton grin as they shared an amused look.

Becca crossed her arms over her chest, amused. She had heard what the woman - who she thought was named Carrie  had said. Her gaze fell to Braxton briefly before darting to Jared and his pet.

Yeah, come sit with us, Lydia said, patting the couch cushion next to her. I just learned your damn name two days ago.

Amused but silent, Becca pushed off the wall and took a seat on the hard piano bench, out of the circle, but in the room. She sat forward, elbows resting on her thighs, hands dangling between her spread knees.

So where do you come from? Jared asked, giving Karen a quick kiss as she hopped off his lap and headed into the kitchen.

Becca suddenly looked very uncomfortable, rubbing her palms on the thighs of her jeans. Clearing her throat, she said, I was born in San Diego. Been here for the past three and a half years.

I love San Diego, Karen said coming back into the room with an armful of hard lemonade. She passed a bottle to everyone in the room, including Becca.

Oh, uh, thanks. Becca set the bottle on the bench next to her, unopened. Braxtons gaze traveled from the unopened bottle back to the quiet woman, whose gaze met hers for a moment then jumped to Lydia, who was telling an amusing story about a trip shed had to San Diego as a kid. After a moment, Becca stood, scooting the bench back under the instrument. Well, guys, uh, I gotta get going. With a small wave, she was out of the house. Braxton followed her with her eyes.

Jesus, shes hot, Carrie muttered with a wistful sigh, which set everyone off laughing again. All except Braxton.

***

Braxton blew out a puff of smoke, watching as it drifted up into the night sky, beyond the circle of the porch light. Flicking a bit of ash off the side of the porch, she looked back out into the street, watching as a cat scurry across, chasing after some unseen rodent.

The night was quiet, kids ready to go back to school the following morning. She was glad; the basketball games in the street until all hours of the night got old quick. The air was beginning to cool at night as September began. The sound of an approaching car drew her attention, Braxton absently taking another drag from her bummed cigarette. Beccas van pulled to the curb in her regular space.

Hey, the taller woman said, strolling up the walk, a mere silhouette until she stepped into the porch light. She stopped, in customary stance of thumbs hooked into the back pockets of her jeans. Her thin, brown leather jacket gleamed in the light. Got another one of those? she nodded toward Braxtons smoke, held half-hazardly between two fingers.

Didnt know you smoked, Braxton said, handing Carries pack to Becca.

I dont, the roommate said, snagging a smoke, tossing the half-empty package back to the porch step next to the blonde. Didnt think you did, either, she said, taking the proffered lighter.

I dont, Braxton smiled. Just sounded good tonight. Guess you could say Im a casual, casual smoker.

Becca chuckled, plopping down next to Braxton. She took a deep drag, holding for a moment before blowing out the smoke, coughing slightly. Been awhile, she explained with a chuckle.

Yeah. Me, too. Tongue burning and a nasty taste in her mouth, Braxton smothered the cherry on the cement next to her thigh, tossing the butt into the rusted coffee can Carrie used when she sat on the porch smoking.

Becca blew out another mouthful of smoke, eyeing her companion. You go to the university?

Braxton nodded. Yup. She sipped from her bottle of water.

What are you studying?

That is a great question. Here I am, a senior, and basically starting over. Pretty ridiculous, really. She grinned at herself. Ive decided to change my major at the last minute. Now Im trying for art.

Art. Becca blew out one final puff then snuffed the cigarette, tossing it into the can. Cant draw to save my life.

What do you do? Braxton leaned back on her hands, glancing over at the other woman. She wondered what was bringing on this surprising bout of friendliness, considering Becca basically wandered around the place like a ghost. When she was there, anyway.

Becca looked down at her shoes, one toe tapping absently on the step. Right now Im working at my Aunt Barbaras place. She owns a tattoo parlor.

Thought you couldnt draw.

Cant. Im her official clean up girl. Becca rotated her head around, as though loosening the tendons.

Thats cool. Get a good price on tats?

Yeah. If I want one, I guess.

How did you end up working there-

I need to get to sleep. Becca stood abruptly, startling Braxton with the sudden move. It was nice talking to you, she called over her shoulder, disappearing into the dark house.

Stung, Braxton once more studied the night around her. Ooookay.

***

Margot smiled at the kind words directed at her husband, admiration for a good sermon. Dutifully, she stood by his side, wearing her Sunday best.

You look lovely today, Margot, Denise Swanson said, taking in Margots yellow and red spotted dress.

Thank you, Denise. Hows Larry Jr.? Margot asked politely, hiding her distaste for the redhead standing before her with an expert mask of the perfect preachers wife.

Oh, my sons fine. He and his wife just bought a new place over in Rifle. You should see how big it is!

Oh, how wonderful for them. The plastic smile plastered on Margots face was an award winner. Well, I need to head on home and get ready for the bake sale here tomorrow.

Fletcher continued his conversation with Larry Sr. as he watched his wife walk to their car. Well, Larry, I need to go. He clapped his longtime friend on the shoulder. You and the little wife have a good day.

Margot got herself settled into the old Chevy, fastening her seatbelt. Her stomach clenched, just as it always did, as Fletcher got settled behind the wheel. She could feel the weight of his stare, but said nothing. Fletcher studied the profile of the woman hed seen just about every day of his miserable life for more than two decades.

He started up the car and got them headed home, the muscles in his jaw working. Why were you rude to Larrys wife?

Margot looked at him, surprised. What? She gasped, hand coming up to cover her mouth, already tasting the blood as it gathered. She figured her teeth must have cut Fletchers hand. Her face flooded with the heat of pain and humiliation.

Dont talk back to me, he said, voice a low growl. You just wait till we get home. Make me look bad in front of my parishioners. Who do you think I am in this community, Margot? he demanded, speed of the car matching that of his temper. Soon Margot was hanging on with white knuckles. Im a leader here. I am the father of their spiritual values! How dare you make me look bad in front of them. Make me look weak, as though I cant control my own wife.

Margot stared straight ahead, knowing that to say anything, even if it were just agreeing with him, which she didnt, would make it worse. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to sink into that place where she went, a place where she saw happy things and happy people. A place where she saw her daughters smiling face. Her daughter who escaped.

Fletchers face was beat red by time they reached the house. He slammed out of the car then stormed around the car, tugging Margot from her seat and dragging her by the wrist toward the house. Once the door was unlocked and pushed opened, he threw her inside.

You embarrassed me today, Margot, he spat, watching in satisfaction as she cowered in the corner of the couch. You ask me if you can go see your daughter, leaving me and your duties to me as your husband, and then you act as you did today. SLAP Youre my wife! SLAP You need to- SLAP - act like it!

Breathing hard, Fletcher looked down at the woman who was now curled up on the floor. He stepped back from her, disgusted, not allowing his guilt to bubble up. Margot was a woman. She was his property and his wife, and a wife was to obey thy husband.

Margot flinched when the front door slammed shut, soon followed by the car revving back to life. She waited until the squeal of the tires to get up. She was unsteady on her feet, holding onto the back of the chair for support. Her head throbbed. Her mouth hurt. She wanted to throw up.

She flipped open the medicine cabinet before turning on the bathroom light. She didnt want to see the results of Fletchers teachings. Instead, she reached for the hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin and bag of cotton balls from underneath the vanity. Taking her supplies with her, she headed into the guest bedroom, which was once upon a time Braxtons.

Sitting on the bed, she sighed, wincing with a hiss as she dabbed the cuts with a peroxide-saturated cotton ball. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she tended to her wounds. There was no need to look in a mirror to know where she hurt.

She quietly twisted the cap back onto the brown bottle, as well as the small cap on the hard, squishy tube of antiseptic. She looked around the room: white walls, completely functionary furniture and the quilt spread Margot had made herself, more than fifteen years before. What she found ironic was the fact that the room had been converted into a guest room once Braxton had left for college, but it looked the exact same. Fletcher never allowed their daughter to decorate or give it her own touch or flair. Shed been so glad to see that Braxton seemed to have made her room in her new home her own. She had good friends who cared about her. Was getting a good education.

Margot gathered the medical supplies and put them away, then headed into the kitchen, wincing slightly as she shifted her weight off her left ankle, which was twisted during the attack. She quickly prepared the coffee pot, and while it gurgled and sighed, she picked up the wall phone.

***

Braxton groaned as she turned over, blindly grabbing for the phone. Hello? she murmured.

Honey? Whats wrong?

Braxton rolled her eyes at the instant worry in her mothers voice. Nothing, Mom. Just got a nasty head cold. She sniffled to emphasize her point. Whats up?

I was thinking of coming up to see you. Maybe stay for a few days.

Brows drawn, Braxton pushed herself up in the bed, resting against the headboard. Okay. Why? She tugged a Kleenex from the box lying on the pillow next to her, groaning as she rubbed her already-sore nose. The wadded up tissue found a home in the small pile of its comrades.

Because I love and miss you. Margot glanced out of her kitchen window, making sure Fletcher didnt pull into the driveway. She was never sure how long hed stay gone.

Braxtons brows drew once again. Something was wrong. What is it, Mom? she asked softly, knowing damn well what it was. Are you okay?

Oh, yeah! Im fine, honey. Just fine. Margot busied herself making a cup of coffee, her hands trembling the entire time. How are you? How are your new classes?

Braxton didnt answer for a moment-her mother had never asked about her classes in three years of college. Theyre fine, she said slowly. She swallowed, deciding to tell her mother of her change in major, first readying herself for the backlash that would come from it. Im taking some art classes, Mom.

Art classes? Margot was confused. She wrapped her hand around her mug, wincing slightly as the edge of the cup hit her newest split lip.

Ive

Im not going into English anymore, Mom. I know how badly you wanted me to follow in grandpa-

I want you to be happy, Braxton, Margot interrupted, her voice almost a harsh whisper from the passion behind it. There is so much hurt in this world, honey, and the patches of light are small and far and few in between. You grab onto what makes you happy and you hold on for dear life. Do you understand me?

Braxton was left speechless. Uh, okay. Thanks.

Margot felt a finger of fear tap her heart when she saw Fletchers car pull up into the drive. I need to go. Remember, Braxton. Follow your dreams, and follow your heart. Ill see you soon. She slammed the receiver down, making herself seem as casual as possible. She quickly set about making a mug of coffee for her husband, just exactly how he liked it.

Fletcher walked in, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he did. He could hear Margot working in the kitchen, so didnt bother to look that way. He found his place in his chair and grabbed his well-worn bible from the side table.

Here you are, honey, Margot said quietly, setting the cup of coffee next to her husband. He didnt reply, merely reached over and slipped his fingers through the ceramic handle. She backed away toward the kitchen, no longer able to hide the hatred on her face.

Part 10

Barbara Lewis leaned in close, trying her best to not breathe. Luckily the buzz of her gun blocked out the sounds of her gasping for air. She always hated it when her clients didnt believe in the ritual of bathing. She finished the last little bit of color, wiping away the beads of blood and extra ink. Leaning back, she shut the instrument off and took a deep breath.

Okay, lemme get you cleaned up and you can have a look, she said, deep voice booming in the small room. The burly, smelly man shed just finished tattooing, grunted his acknowledgement. With the carefully swipe of an ointment-covered cotton ball, the death skull came into full, grinning view. Okay, check it out. She handed him a hand mirror, which he took, standing to look at the artwork hed just received.

Ten minutes later, Barbara had put her inks away, and her gun into the sterilizer. The front door to the shop opened and her niece walked through. Hey, babe, the older woman called from over her shoulder. Room seven needs your caring touch.

Okay. Becca shed her jacket and began her work day.

How are you, kiddo? Barbara asked, busying herself with the business.

Doing okay. Sorry Im late, my meeting ran over, Becca called from room seven. Broom in hand, she swept up the days mess, gathering the trash and bundling it.

Its okay.

Becca looked up, surprised to hear her aunts voice close by. The older woman-all six feet, two inches, two hundred pounds, and short, bleached buzzed hair-was leaning against the doorframe, watching her niece at work.

How are those going?

Good. Becca leaned on her broom, unable to meet her aunts eyes. Its been good for me, Barbie.

Then thats all we can hope for, B. The large woman walked over to Becca and took her in a monster hug. Im proud of you.

***

Do you guys know how crazy you are? Braxton asked, meeting Carries gaze in the rearview mirror. The petit brunette sat behind the wheel, grinning back at her.

Yeah, pretty much.

You never wanted a tattoo.

Yeah, not until Carrie found out Becca works there. Lydia, sitting in the passenger seat, grinned, laughing outright when Carrie smacked her.

You didnt have to come, Carrie pouted. Either of you. Braxton and Lydia laughed, further embarrassing the driver.

The Tortured Souls tattoo parlor was a medium-sized square structure with a small parking lot. The brick was painted piss yellow with an ornately painted sign above the double glass doors.

Carrie pulled into a space toward the end of the building, next to the other five cars parked there. Including Beccas van, which Lydia was quick to point out. Braxton rolled her eyes as she climbed out of Carries piece of crap car. She was tired of hearing her roommate groan over her lust for their newest roommate. The only reason shed gone along on this fools errand was because she was abducted, told that the three were going to have a nice lunch.

The lobby of the shop was spacious, a seating area in front of the large windows with a worn leather couch and loveseat. A square block table in front of them was covered in glossies sporting newest tattoo news and styles. A reception counter, with cash register, was just inside the door to the right, and beyond was an open space. The walls were covered with pictures of tattoo designs, and the various body parts they were put on.

A lone table stood in the center of the room covered in fat photo albums filled with more designs to choose from.

Nice place, Carrie complimented, looking around. Lydia joined her as they began to flip through the framed rows of design choices along one wall.

Though Braxton had to agree, she felt nervous to be there, much like she did inside a bar, both places shed never spent any time. Her newly-formed artistic eye thought the artwork and designs before her were outstanding. She walked over to a wall plastered in full back pieces, marveling.

Pretty amazing, isnt it?

Braxton turned, not entirely surprised to see Becca standing next to her, hands tucked into her back pockets as she took in the artwork before her. Yeah. It is. I have a hard enough time doing this on paper, let alone skin.

Becca smirked. I dont know. Ive seen some of your work. She glanced over at the blonde. Youre pretty good.

Thank you. Braxton felt shy at the compliment.

Sensing the blondes discomfort, Becca changed the subject. You getting a tat today?

Oh, no, Braxton laughed nervously. Im here for moral support for those two numbskulls, I guess. She nodded toward Lydia and Carrie, who were excitedly talking about what they were going to get. Just then one of the tattoo artists joined them. Braxton glanced back to Becca. Do you have one? A tattoo, I mean.

A couple.

Braxton turned to face the taller woman, curious. What are they?

Becca grinned down at her. I can only show you one. She turned, moving the strap of her tank top aside slightly to reveal a soaring eagle on her shoulder blade.

Does it have meaning? Braxton asked, moving closer to see it better. Its beautifully done.

Yep. My aunts one of the best in the biz. And, yes. Becca put her shirt back in place, once again facing the blonde. It does have meaning.

Braxton was about to ask, as well as about the second tattoo, but the enthusiastic greeting from Carrie froze her tongue. She stepped back, watching as her three roommates discussed Carrie and Lydias choices. Uninterested, Braxton moved away, once again checking out the tattoos that the parlor proudly displayed that theyd done.

See anything you like? a deep, albeit female voice said from behind her. Braxton turned to see one of the largest, most intimidating women shed ever seen. A broad smile curved her strongly-featured face. Have you decided what you want yet?

Braxton noticed that the bleached blonde had the exact same color of eyes as Becca, and wondered if maybe this was her aunt, whom she had said owned the place. Oh, uh, Im not getting one. Just here with some friends.

The friends that are climbing all over my niece? Barbara said, glancing with amusement at an overwhelmed Becca.

Yep. Those would be the ones.

The large woman turned to the petit blonde. They the roommates?

Two of them. Im a third, and our fourth isnt here. Im Braxton.

Barbara nodded, almost as though realizing something that she wasnt sharing. Beccas Aunt Barbara. You can call me Barb or Barbie. She extended a huge, calloused hand, which was taken. Nice to meet you. You sure you dont want one? Just one word of warning, she said, holding a finger. Tattoos are like chips: you cant have just one.

Braxton chuckled. Ive heard that. She noticed the full sleeves on Barbie, plus a dragon that was wrapped around her neck, the tip of its fiery breath tickling the hollow of her throat.

Looks like theyre ready to rock. If you change your mind, let B know. Well get you hooked up. With those parting words, the large woman took Carrie and Lydia down a long hall, followed by the other artist who had been talking with them earlier, leaving Braxton and Becca.

You okay out here? Becca asked.

Yeah, Im fine. If you need to go



Gotta go get some equipment out of the sterilizer and to Barbie and Jill. You want something? Water? A coke?

Braxton shook her head. No. Thanks.

Alright. Well, if you want to join Carrie or Lydia, I think theyre in rooms three and five.

Thanks. Left alone, Braxton walked over to the couch, plopping down with a heavy sigh. She was already bored, and shed only been alone for five seconds. She tapped her thighs randomly, wishing shed brought a book or even homework to keep her occupied. This sucks, she muttered, contemplating heading back to watch her friends get pricked repeatedly with a tiny, ink-filled needle. Deciding that wasnt all that appealing, she stayed put.

The bell above the door chimed as a group of giggling teenagers walked in, feeling oh-so daring for venturing into a tattoo shop. They glanced at her briefly before heading toward the design displays. Their laughter got louder, making Braxton groan and roll her eyes.

Peachy, she muttered, irritable as she grabbed one of the magazines and absently flipped through it.

I hate it when theyre obnoxious, Becca murmured, sitting next to Braxton. So annoying.

Definitely. Cant believe I was their age just a few years ago. She shuddered at the thought, which made Becca chuckle.

Yeah, been a few more for me, but perish the thought that I was ever giggly.

Braxton grinned, tossing the magazine aside. Do you get them in here very much? she asked, indicating the trio of teens with a nod of her head.

Becca nodded. Sadly. Mommy and daddy give them a wad of money and tell them to go play. In they come.

Poor baby.

Becca grinned. Yeah, poor baby indeed. You, anyway. You look like youre bored out of your mind. Something tells me a trip to Tortured Souls was not on your agenda for Thursday afternoon.

And youd be right. They tricked me. I should be at Applebys right now.

Becca laughed outright. She met Braxtons annoyed gaze. Im sorry. You just look like a petulant child right now. Braxton stuck her tongue out at Becca just to see her smile.

Hey, can we get some help here? one of the teens said.

Becca growled quietly, then pushed to her feet. Talk to you later.

Braxton felt almost giddy as she watched Becca go. Shed enjoyed their quiet camaraderie since shed been at the parlor. She had been pleasantly surprised by the taller womans sense of humor. Maybe hanging out at the tattoo shop wouldnt be so bad after all.

***

Margot glanced into the rearview mirror once again then returned her full attention to the road. Her palms were sweaty and her head pounded. The miles flew by quickly, her speedometer kept at a nice, easy seventy-two miles per hour. Her dust-colored sedan blended with her fellow travelers, allowing her to be the wall flower on the road that she was in her life.

Sitting next to her on the bench seat was an overnight bag, filled with enough clothing to last her for three days before theyd need washing. If she decided to stay longer, she knew Braxton would allow her to use their facilities. She checked her rearview one more time before hitting her turn signal to take the next exit, which would take her to Braxtons house.

***

Are you guys sure? Braxton asked, feeling monumentally guilty as she watched Lydia carry the last of her stuff into Carries room. Really, I can take the couch and give my mom my room-

No, no, Lydia waved her off. We like your mom. Besides, if giving her my bed for a few days means her cooking those orgasmic waffles again, then its more than worth it.

Braxton rolled her eyes. One track mind, I swear. Resigned, she brought her stack of clean sheets into the downstairs bedroom, and quickly made up the bed. The red numbers of the bedside alarm clock told her that Margot would be arriving within the hour. Shed been shocked when shed gotten the call earlier in the day. Her mother had told her shed wanted to come visit, but Braxton figured it would be left to just that: want. She was even more surprised to hear that her father wouldnt be accompanying her, though relieved beyond measure.

One more glance around the small bedroom told her that there wasnt anything left in the room that would offend Margot Crowleys tender sensibilities, or get her into trouble, so Braxton was satisfied. She switched off the overhead light and padded out into the living room.

Hey everyone, Jared said, coming in through the front door. Hows the new tat? he asked Carrie, who was sitting on the couch spreading a generous amount of lotion on the new body art.

Its great. Come check it out. Carrie kept her shoulder bared long enough for him to see, then recovered herself.

Very nice. Im going to guess youve decided youre a dyke this week to get a half-naked woman tattooed on your shoulder. He tossed his jacket over the back of the couch, and flopped down on it, bouncing slightly. He grinned at Carries glare. What did Brax get?

Youd know what I got, or didnt get if you were here long enough to find out, Braxton said, wrapping her arms around Jareds neck from behind.

Jared grinned sheepishly. Yeah, well

 he turned his head enough to place a quick kiss on her cheek. What did you get?

I didnt. She sat down beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. And my mothers on her way.

What? Why? Is everything okay?

I guess. She didnt elaborate.

She misses you, Brax. Is that so hard to believe? Carrie asked, closing the cap on her bottle of Curel.

Yeah, Carrie, it is. Why now? Ive been here for three years. When I got into the accident was the first time shed even seen where I live. I dont buy it.

Well, think about it. You got into an accident where you almost died. Regardless of your parents weird ass ways and beliefs, I think a scare like that, with someones kid, would scare anyone into changing. Well, except for maybe your dad. I dont think theres any hope for him.

Yeah, thanks, Braxton said dryly. Their conversation was cut short by the knock on the front door. Braxton sighed, pushing to her feet. Here goes nothing.

Carrie and Jared exchanged a look.

Margot waited none too patiently for her knock to be answered. She put a smile on her face as the inner door was opened, then the screen door was pushed and held open for her to enter.

Hi, Mom, Braxton said, making sure Margot was fully in before allowing the screen door to slam.

Hi, honey. Margot dropped her bag and turned to her daughter, taking her in a tight embrace. Pulling back, she held Braxton by the upper arms, looking her over. Its so nice to see you looking so good, Braxton. Youre hair is so cute. She smiled, touching a few soft strands.

Oh, thanks. Braxton felt a little embarrassed by the attention. Is this all youve got? She took her mothers dropped bag in hand.

Yep. Thats all.

Okay. Well, follow me. Youll be staying in Lydias room, shes going to, uh, share, with Carrie.

Oh, honey, I dont want to put any of you kids out.

Dont worry. They said theyre willing as long as you cook for them, Braxton grinned, flicking on the light switch and setting the bag on the bed. Do you need anything? Want anything? Hungry? Thirsty? Want a shower?

Margot laughed at her daughters eagerness to please. She gave her another hug. No, sweetie, all I need is to be able to spend some time with you.

***

Laughter rang out in the kitchen as the roommates and Margot sat around the kitchen table, finishing the wonderful dinner the older woman had prepared for them all.

Hey, who wants a drink? Lydia asked, jumping up and grabbing a bottle off Jack Daniels from the pantry. She held it up in invitation. A round of Fuck yeah! met her. She grabbed an armload of glasses, Becca the only one refusing.

Mom! Braxton exclaimed, watching in horror as her mother accepted a filled glass.

What? Margot asked, shuttering after the sip she took. Im allowed to have a little fun, too, arent I?

Braxton had never seen her mother drink a drop of alcohol her entire life. Especially after Fletchers heavy drinking for many years. Braxton barely sipped her own drink, uncomfortable with drinking with her pious mother. The teachings of her childhood came back to her, and she couldnt help but feel this was actually a test from Margot.

***

Braxton sat on the front porch of the house, watching the beautiful colors of the sunset as they bled across the sky. She didnt look to see who was joining her as the screen door slammed shut.

Pretty, isnt it? said a soft voice. Braxton glanced over to see Becca looking down at her. Mind if I join you?

Nope. Braxton patted the cement step next to her. She waited until Becca was comfortable and settled before speaking again. You dont drink, do you?

The taller woman shook her head. Nope. Why do you ask?

Braxton shrugged, sipping from her bottled water. Ive noticed that every time alcohol is brought out, you always decline. Or leave.

Very observant. I dont drink anymore.

Anymore



Long story. Your mom is nice.

Braxton noticed the quick change in subject and decided to give her a reprieve. For now. Yes, she is. I have to say, it disturbed the hell out of me to watch her with everyone tonight.

Why?

Lets just say that the strongest thing Ive ever seen her drink is wine f communion, and Ive seen her drink that often enough, Braxton explained dryly.

Ah. Gotcha. You dont drink much either, do you?

Braxton shook her head. Nope. Im delightful enough without it.

Becca laughed. Id agree. They exchanged a glance which broke when the screen door was opened again. Seeing it was Margot Crowley, Becca got to her feet. She bid them both a good night, then disappeared inside the house.

Hi, sweetie, Margot said brightly. She was still feeling the wonderful buzz from the whiskey shed had earlier. Shed had more fun in one night than shed had in twenty years. Its going to be a beautiful night.

Yeah. I think so. Nice sunset, anyway.

I surprised youre not capturing it on paper.

Braxton chuckled. Somehow I dont think it would be quite the same in blacks, grays and whites of charcoal on paper, Mom.

Margot also chuckled. No, I suppose not.

They were both quiet for a long moment, both absorbing the beauty around them, as well as the others presence. Why did you drink tonight? There was no recrimination in Braxtons voice, just pure curiosity.

Margot didnt answer for a moment, trying to pick her words carefully. Braxton, Im forty-two years old, though I look ten years that, and feel twice that. She glanced over at her daughter, who had pulled her legs up against her chest, arms hugging them tight. Do you understand?

Not really.

Ive been married more than half of my life, Margot continued to explain. Your father was the first man I was ever with. I lost my virginity to him, and I lost my life to him. All our married life has been about him and his needs, whether it was the bottle or the bible. Somewhere along the way Ive forgotten who I am. I have no identity, other than Mrs. Fletcher Crowley. I have nothing thats my own. She gently brushed short, blonde strands from Braxtons forehead. Not even my only child. Youre your own woman now.

Braxton met her mothers gaze. She looked at her, really looked at her for the first time. Her hair was blonde, like her own, but thin and dull. Her eyes, though bright from her drink, were just as lifeless. Wrinkles lined her face long before their time, and Margot Crowley had no happiness in her face, nor the reed-thin body.

Something occurred to Braxton. Are you going back home? she asked gently.

I dont know, honey. All that I do know is if you get a call for me, Im not here. She looked intently into Braxtons eyes. Okay? Im not here.

Okay, Mom. Youre not here.

Part 11

She was breathless, arms and legs pumping through the air as she propelled herself between the rows. She cried out as she stumbled, tripping over a low, crumbling stone. Panting in fear, she quickly picked herself up and continued, glancing over her shoulder. He was still behind her, tracking her.

Braxton could feel hot tears run down her cheeks as she saw that she was coming up to a fence. She ran headlong to it, gripping the bars and shaking them in violent frustration. She turned, back to the cold, hard iron strips, waiting. She cried out in surprise as a hand rested on her shoulder, reaching through the bars. She turned

Im here to help you



Braxton cried out, her chest heaving, a sob torn from her throat.

Hey, its okay.

Braxton blinked several times to see Becca sitting on the edge of her bed, a comforting hand on her arm. Jesus, she blew out, wiping at her tears.

Are you alright?

Braxton hesitated, then nodded. Yeah. Thanks. For just a moment she wanted to lose herself in Beccas arms, be held and told everything would be, and was okay. She was startled by that thought, and quickly pushed it away. Im sorry. I keep waking you.

Nah. I was up. Its only just after one. She studied the trembling woman beside her. You want to talk about it?

Braxton shook her head no, but didnt want her roommate to leave, either. Would you mind

Never mind.

What? Would I mind what?

God, I feel like a dork. But would you mind staying for a few minutes? Maybe talking or something. I need my head to clear before I can go back to sleep.

Sure. Scoot.

Braxtons eyes widened at the request, but then did as Becca had asked, and scooted further over on the bed, making room. She held the sheet to her t-shirt-covered chest, almost like a shield as Becca got settled, back against the headboard.

What do you want to talk about?

Do your nightmares have to do with your accident?

Braxton was surprised. How did you know about that?

Alicia told me. She wanted to move out with Theo in April, but we had to hold off until you got better. What happened?

Braxton sighed, deciding how much she wanted to tell Becca. Glancing over at her, she saw nothing but genuine care and curiosity. I used to date this guy named Andrew. Real prick. He will definitely go down as one of those, what the hell was I thinking moments. Anyway, I went to a party at his place, caught him getting blown by some other chick. Might I add I had sought him out to break up with him? They both chuckled.

Cant imagine why, Becca quipped, for some reason feeling a bit down that Braxton had had a boyfriend.

Yeah. On my way home I decided to go take a drive. Ended up in the middle of Nowhere. I was upset. She met gentle blue eyes again. Thats the last thing I remember.

Alicia said the accident was pretty bad. Touch and go for awhile, Becca said softly.

Yes. I ended up in a coma for the summer, and my car is now scrap. She looked down at her hands, which rested in her lap, biting her lower lip to stop emotion that she felt rising in her throat.

Are you okay, Braxton? Becca didnt believe the blondes vigorous nod for a minute. Come here.

Reluctantly Braxton allowed herself to be gathered into strong arms, her cheek resting against a solidly pounding heart. Becca scooted down in the bed until she was lying down, taking Braxton with her. She could feel the petit body trembling, as though Braxton were trying valiantly to hold it in.

Hey, Becca whispered, stroking the short, blonde hair. Its okay to feel, Braxton. Its okay to be afraid. And its okay to cry.

Those softly spoken words sent the dam into splintered pieces. Braxtons tears came fast and hard, her body heaving with the power and intensity of her release. She cried out her fear from that terrible night, she cried out the loss she felt for that missing time in her life. The fear of the images from her nightmares that, though did not stick in her memory, stuck in her heart, and chilled her heart. She cried for the way Andrew had treated her, and that shed let him get away with it for so long. And she cried as suddenly she remembered Jared hanging up on her, turning his back.

Beccas eyes squeezed shut as she tried to keep tears of sympathy at bat. Braxton needed her to be strong, not add to the misery, no matter how much it may love company. She held the blonde closer, stroking her back and hair, cheek resting against her soft hair.

Finally Braxton got herself under control, feeling foolish, but greatly relieved. Im sorry, she murmured, starting to pull away, but Becca held her tight.

Just stay, and you have nothing to be sorry for. Relax, Becca said, running her fingers through Braxtons hair. Do you dream about the accident itself?

Braxton shook her head, using the edge of the sheet to wipe her tear-streaked face. No. I dont remember what it is once Im awake, but it scares the hell out of me. Ive started drawing them as soon as I wake up, and its helped. Becca was curious as to what the drawings were of, but didnt ask. Why dont you drink?

Becca froze, her heart beginning to pound.

Not that thats a bad thing or anything, Braxton said at the prolonged silence. You dont have to ans-

No, Ill tell you, Becca said, her voice tight.

Braxton raised her head, looking down at Becca. She could see the fear and pain in the blue eyes, as well as the tightness in her jaw and body. Hey, lets just leave it at you dont drink because you dont want to, okay? she said gently. Yes, she wanted to know, but no, she saw no reason to make Becca divulge something that was painful fro her.

Beccas gaze met Braxtons, relief rushing through her. Shed never told anyone why before, and wasnt sure shed be able to make it through the conversation without running screaming into the night, never to return. She smiled, grateful for the reprieve. Okay.

The relief in Beccas eyes was palpable, and tickled Braxtons curiosity, as well as her dread, even more, but now was not the time. Hey, why dont you go get some sleep. Im okay now, and really appreciate your waking me. Again. And staying.

Are you sure? Becca asked, not really wanting to go. She felt as though right then she needed Braxtons comfort as well as wanted to give her own. At the blondes nod, Becca knew there was no good reason for her to stay, no good argument, so sat up and pushed off the bed. Before she left, he turned to Braxton, who sat in the middle of the bed, looking for all the world like a lost child. Sleep well, Braxton. If you need anything, Im close.

Braxton nodded. Thanks. Good night.

Night.

It was a long time before Braxton got back to sleep.

***

Oh! Look at that. Margot hurried to a storefront window, Braxton walking up next to her. Can you imagine? Sculpting that castle out of chocolate?

That is definitely amazing, the younger blonde agreed.

Lets go in. Margot turned mischievous eyes on her daughter. You still like chocolate, dont you?

Duh! Braxton exclaimed, laughing as she was drug into the specialty candy shop. The smells were amazing-cookies, chocolates, hard candy, and ever other type of confection the imagine could conjure up. Though shed just eaten, Braxtons mouth watered.

Smells wonderful in here, doesnt it? Margot said, her voice quiet with reverence. What do you want?

Mom, I cant let you pay. You already bought lunch. You dont have the money for this.

Oh, Margot waved off her words. You only live once, Braxton. Make it count.

Braxton watched her mother hurry off to a display of white chocolate, looking at the older woman like shed lost her mind. Who is this woman? She followed, loving the smoothness of the white stuff.

I want to give you something when we get back to the house, too. Dont let me forget, Margot said, bending over the glass-topped case to see what goodies she wanted.

Lydias was the only car in the drive when they reached the house. Margot helped Braxton carry in all the bags of clothing shed bought for her during their girl time. Shed never spent so much time with her daughter and felt so free. Theyd laughed and talked, and actually had a normal day without Fletcher the man, or the fear lurking over their shoulders.

Braxton was almost giddy, excited about the new things shed gotten, deciding not to fight her mother on it, as she truly did need the clothes. She was also excited about the day shed had. She had no idea Margot Crowley could be so much fun!

Hey, Brax? Lydia said, following the blonde up the stairs and to her room. When she reached it, Braxton was already emptying her shopping bags onto the bed.

Yeah? Braxton tossed over her shoulder. She heard the soft click of her bedroom door closing. Turning, she saw a very serious Lydia walk over to her. Whats wrong?

Two policemen came looking for your mom today, she said, keeping her voice low.

What? Why?

They said they wanted to question her about something, but wouldnt tell me what. I didnt tell them she was staying here, Braxton. I wasnt sure what to do or what to say. Lydias troubled eyes made Braxtons heart pound just a little faster.

Okay. Ill talk to her and see whats up. She held open her bag of mixed white and milk chocolate. Want one? Braxton popped a candy into her mouth as her roommate picked one for herself.

You look like you two had fun. Your mom is practically glowing. Lydias eyes slid closed in ecstasy at the burst of milk chocolaty taste on her tongue.

We did. I had a lot of fun with her. I had no idea that was even possible. Braxton put away the new clothes, hanging the new winter jacket in her small closet.

Did your mom go on a shopping spree for you? Lydia asked, plopping down in the armchair.

Pretty much. I tried to say no, but she wouldnt hear it. Not sure if she and my dad struck the lottery or what.

Im surprised he let her come here alone.

Braxton shrugged. Who knows. Maybe the bastard had some sort of church function, and mom coming here got her out of his hair. They both smirked and headed downstairs.

At dinner, which Margot took them all out for, Braxton watched her mother carefully. Something was off, but she couldnt quite put her finger to it. She watched as the older woman and her roommates laughed over wine and trash talk, which even Braxton had to grin at a couple times.

Your moms awful generous, Becca said from beside the blonde.

Braxton met her gaze and nodded, turning back to her dinner. Yes, apparently she is.

Youre bothered by something, arent you? Becca sipped from her Coke, eyes never leaving Braxton, who was surprised by just how observant the taller woman was.

Braxton nodded. Yeah. Not sure what, though.

Margot declared she needed to use the restroom, and Braxton decided to go with her. They stepped inside the small room, taking turns using the one stall. Margot waited for her daughter to finish washing her hands, Braxton studying her mothers reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Two policemen came to the house looking for you today while we were gone, she said softly, carefully gauging Margots reaction to the news. Her eyes widened slightly, her face a bit drawn and pale. The rosy hue in her cheeks from an fun, exciting night was gone.

I see, Margot said, busying herself by snagging a few paper towels from the dispenser so Braxton could dry her hands. She met concerned green eyes. When we get back to your house, we need to talk.

***

Margot sat uncomfortably in the armchair by the window, watching as Braxton stripped off her coat and hung it in the closet. She cursed her hands, which wouldnt stop fidgeting in her lap. Her daughter finally got settled on the bed, legs folded in front of her, and waited.

The older woman cleared her throat before shed meet Braxtons eyes. I need to tell you something, and I want you to listen to every word before you speak or react. Alright?

Braxton felt fear flutter through her, but nodded. Alright.

Taking a deep breath for courage, Margot began to tell her story.

Margot looked down at her hands, grimacing as the dry skin cracked on her knuckles. The steam from the lemon-scented dish water wafted into her face. Doing dishes up to four times a day wasnt helping her cause, any. Fall and winter in Colorado was such a dry time of year, and lotion was a must. The cheap, store brand Fletcher made her get didnt hardly touch the dry flesh.

With a heavy sigh, Margot began to fill the sink with the dishes from a big breakfast. She had no idea why that damn man insisted to a big meal breakfast, lunch and dinner. She had to prepare each one, and try and keep it original, then she was the one to clean up the mess. His mess. The stack of pans on the counter next to her made her stomach roil. They were each covered with stuck on food-eggs, sausage and bacon, Fletcher insisting that each be cooked separately. It would make things so much easier if hed allow her to just cook them all in the same pan. But that would require him allowing anything for her to be easy. It hadnt been in twenty odd years, so why start now?

At least hes consistent, she smirked to herself, grabbing the sponge with scrubbing surface on the other side, and starting in.

Margot marveled at the fact that it had actually been somewhat of a quiet, mild morning. Yes, Fletcher had woken up in a bad mood, but she couldnt remember the last time had hadnt. No biggie. Hed left her alone, heading to the living room to read his morning scripture, leaving her to get breakfast going. He hadnt said a word, as Margot knew exactly what he expected. This morning had been different, however, when he hadnt beaten his silent request into her.

Breakfast had also been quiet, Fletcher stuffing his face on the fragrant food and reading the morning paper, grunting out a few stories or facts of interest. Margot didnt listen, didnt care. She oohed and aaahed in all the right places, but continued to eat.

Fletcher looked up from his breakfast, eyeing her. Youre not listening to me, are you?

Margot met his gaze, but only briefly. Of course I am, honey. Very interesting.

He tossed the newspaper down, closing it first. What did I say? What was I talking about?

Panic grabbed Margots insides as she frantically searched her brain to recall what shed heard. Hed never quizzed her before. Uh, the

uh, tractor show.

That was five minutes ago, woman! he yelled, slamming a fist into the table, making coffee spill over the rims of their freshly-filled cups.

Fletcher, Im sorry! Margot rushed, panic in her voice. My mind wandered, as I was thinking about what I needed to do today, to get ready for the wonderful brunch the ladies at church and I will be serving after your sermon, and-

Liar! Fletcher rose to his feet so quickly, the vase of silk flowers at the center of the table toppled over, taking the pitcher of warmed syrup with it. The dishes shattered to the floor along with a warm, gooey mess. Fletcher ignored this and instead grabbed Margot by the collar of her housedress and dragging her from her chair.

No, Fletcher, please, Margot begged, clawing at the hand that held her as she was dragged to the kitchen, her slipper-covered feet useless against the smooth linoleum.

When are you going to learn how to be a real wife?! Fletcher demanded, shaking her violently. He took satisfaction in seeing Margots eyes literally rolling in her head. Now, you clean up that mess you made in there, and then youll read every word of the Book of Mark to me. Do you understand? he shouted with another fit of shaking.

Margot couldnt breathe, as Fletchers grip on her collar had tightened to the point where his knuckles were digging into her windpipe. Fletch- she gasped, smacking at his hand.

Dont you ever hit me, he growled, his grip tightening as he realized what was happening.

Margot could feel her life slipping away, and for one brief moment considered letting it happen. After all, who would miss her? Then she thought of her daughter, and saw her beautiful face before her minds eye. With a renewed vigor and the natural instinct to survive, she let go of Fletchers hand, and blindly reached out, trying to find something, anything that would get her free. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the cast iron frying pan shed used for sausage. It had been a wedding gift from her own parents so long ago.

The CLANG from the strike was almost deafening in the small kitchen. Fletcher cried out as he stumbled backwards, his hands going to his bleeding head. He fell to his knees, and finally his butt as the blood continued to gush. Margot stared down at him, filled with a rage shed never known before. Her fingers flexed on the handle again, and with bared teeth, sent the pan flying through the air in a deadly arc, hitting Fletcher upside the head, sending him sprawling. He didnt move, but it didnt stop Margot from landing one more vicious blow.

Heaving and panting, she looked down at what shed done, not one bit of regret or guilt in her heart.

Margot grew silent, her soul expunged with the telling of her story. She didnt tell Braxton, however, that after that, she left him on the floor, and washed her dishes, leaving them to dry in the strainer, just as shed done every day of her married life. Shed showered, watching the blood swirl down the drain, then packed a bag to head out of town.

Braxton sat motionless, her face long drained of all color. Im going to be sick, she whispered, running out of her bedroom and slamming into the bathroom she and Becca shared. She barely got the toilet seat up before she lost her dinner. With moments she felt a warm, soothing hand rubbing her back.

Are you okay, honey? Margot asked softly, grabbing a wash cloth and wetting it with warm water. She helped Braxton to her feet and gently wiped her face.

Braxton nodded, seriously contemplating vomiting again. I need time to think. To process this. Okay? She met concerned eyes, and Margots nod. Ill be back a little later.

Alright, Braxton. If thats what you need.

Braxton headed toward the door, but stopped when a hand grabbed her own, stopping her. She turned to face Margot.

I love you, honey. No matter what.

After a long moment, Braxton was able to say honestly, I love you, too.

Part 12

Becca slammed the door to her van, the vehicle rocking slightly at the move, and headed up the front walk. The house was lit up, which told her it was likely everyone was home. She started when the front door slammed open, and a seemingly upset Braxton hurried out into the cool night, nearly running over the taller woman.

Whoa! Becca exclaimed, putting her hands up to stop the collision. Stunned green eyes looked up at her. You okay?

No. No, Im not. I need to talk to Jared, and his goddamn cell phone is turned off. Again! So, Im heading over to his goddamn girlfriends house to see if I can catch him.

How are you getting there?

Braxton stopped for a moment-good question. She hadnt thought to ask for her mothers keys to her car. Guess Im walking.

No, come on. Ill take you. Becca guided Braxton back to her van, unlocking and tugging open the passenger side door for her, then slamming it shut once the blonde was settled. Slipping in behind the wheel, she glanced across the large expanse at her roommate. Where does she live?

Braxton thought for a moment, then her face crumbled as realization struck. I dont know.

Whoa! Hold the phone, here. Becca knelt in the space between the passenger and drivers seat in the spacious van and pulled Braxton to her. The blonde cried, grabbing onto Becca in an almost painful grasp. Becca was starting to get scared, as these werent the tears of a woman frightened from a nightmare, these were tears of anguish. You know, I may not be Jared, but Ive been known to have a strong shoulder from time to time, she said softly.

Braxton pulled away, sniffling and laughing nervously. I keep destroying your clothes with my crying.

Becca grinned. Thats why washing machines were created. You okay? she brushed some strands of hair out of Braxtons eyes, using her thumb to wipe away a lingering tear.

No. She looked into Beccas concerned gaze. Um, do you think maybe we can just

drive?

Sure. Becca moved back into her seat, belting herself in and bringing the large engine roaring to life, and got them heading off into the night.

Braxton stared out the window, her arms hugging across herself. She felt cold and afraid, and very alone. The night passed by in silence, only the soft murmuring of the radio for a soundtrack of what would be one of the worse nights of her life. She knew she had scared Becca, and could feel her gaze on her from time to time, but Braxton wasnt ready to share quite yet. She wasnt entirely sure she should share with this woman who was a virtual stranger.

The streets were surprisingly quiet for a college town, the streetlights bleeding their circle of light at intervals. A light, cold rain from earlier turned the street into a smooth, black canvas, the street and traffic lights shining brilliantly upon them.

The van came to a stop, pulling Braxton from her visual musings. She looked around them and saw that they were in a parking lot, then realized it was the tattoo shop. She turned questioning eyes to the driver.

Its closed. Figured this would give us some privacy to talk. That is, if you want to. Becca tapped the steering wheel as she waited for an answer. She got it when suddenly the cab of the van was filled with light as Braxton opened her door. She joined her, locking up her vehicle as she searched for the right key to the barred door of the shop.

It was strange for Braxton to be inside the tattoo shop when it was closed. Becca didnt turn any lights on, their only guide were the emergency lights that burned all through the night, draping everything in a dim, buttery light.

Want some coffee? Becca asked, tossing her keys on the reception desk after locking them in.

Please? That sounds really good.

Coming right up. Make yourself comfortable.

Left alone, Braxton wandered around, looking at the tattoos on the walls briefly before turning toward where the sitting area was. Heavy shades had been drawn over the huge, storefront windows, so they were in relative seclusion.

We should be in business in about five minutes or so, Becca said, standing just outside the doorway of the office, hands tucked into her back pockets. She watched Braxton, who was staring off into space, her hand resting casually on the back of one of the couches. Braxton?

As though in a daze, Braxton heard her name called, and turned to see Becca standing in the shadows, concern written on her chiseled features. Five minutes? Okay. Great. Thanks.

Do you want to get settled there, or back here in the office? Becca asked, hitching her thumb back over her shoulder.

Instead of answering, Braxton walked over to her, following the taller woman back into a small, square room with a desk running along one wall, a closed lap top tucked into the corner, and a set of metal filing cabinets running along the other wall. The gurgling coffee maker sat atop it.

I feel a little less vulnerable back here, she said, sheepish as she sat in one of the three office chairs scattered across the room.

Becca smiled in understanding, getting two mugs ready for the coffee, which was nearly done. Her back still to the blonde, she began to speak. So, talk to me. What had you so upset?

My mother killed my father.

Becca halted, nearly choking on her tongue by the words, devoid of any emotion. She was glad she hadnt been facing Braxton because she knew her face would have betrayed her true feelings on what shed just heard. Wow. She poured two cups, bringing them to the desk where Braxton sat. Cream? Sugar? Splenda? Got it all.

Sugar and cream, please.

After a moment Becca was seated next to her, both readying their coffees. The older woman wasnt sure what to say, or if she should even say anything at all. She waited.

Braxton sipped slowly, gathering her thoughts and swallowing her regret of just spitting it out like that. She couldnt meet Beccas gaze, afraid of what shed see there. Finally she spoke. I need to explain something to you. About my parents.

Alright. Go for it. Becca sat back in her chair, assuming a casual posture that she didnt feel.

Well, first off, let me tell you about my father. Braxton took a deep breath before continuing. Her emotions were rattling around in her head, trying to discern which emotion she actually felt. How did she feel about the fact that her father had been beaten to death? Clearing her throat, she began to tell the story of her childhood. She spoke of Fletchers drinking, the beatings shed witnessed and endured herself.

Becca listened, after awhile forgetting to drink her coffee, instead the mug balanced on her knee. She stared in awe and wonder at what Braxton and her mother and endured from Fletcher Crowley, whom shed never met, but had heard plenty about. She felt rage fill her at the things Braxton described, then outright sorrow at the lost time and life of Margot.

When finally Braxtons story came to an end, a heavy silence sat between them. Becca was allowing everything shed been told to process in her mind, her own emotions trying to vie for space in her head.

As the silence stretched on, Braxton began to feel uncomfortable, and pushed up, grabbing her empty coffee mug, and Beccas cold one, refilling them both from the 6 cup maker.

I have to admit, Im stunned, Becca said at length, accepting the fresh coffee. How is your mom doing after all this?

I dont know. We didnt really get that far. Braxton ran her fingers through her hair, her hand shaking.

So, the police are on to your mother?

I dont know. I can only assume. Braxton blew out a shaky breath.

How do you feel about all this, Braxton? Wheres your head?

Hell if I know, Braxton blew out, rising and beginning to pace. I hate

hated my father for years. But still, he was my father. Without ten minutes of his time, I wouldnt be here, you know? God, I just dont know how to feel. Am I supposed to feel angry? Should I be grateful? Relieved? Fucking pissed!? Braxtons shout echoed off the walls of the small office. Braxtons bag of emotions were blending together, her unable to separate what was what, which made her angry. What the hell was she thinking, Becca? Christ!

I think she wasnt thinking, Becca said softly. I think she was defending herself, Braxton.

But, she killed him, Becca, Braxton said softy, taking her seat again. She didnt have to take it that far. He let her go.

But for how long? Im not trying to justify what your mom did, but do you honestly think a man like your dad would allow your mom to just say, oops, sorry? Braxton, he wouldve come after her. And maybe you.

Braxton heard every word, and knew that a lot of it made sense, but it still didnt help clear her mind. Are you close to your family, Becca? she asked.

The taller woman was stunned silent for a moment at the seeming non-sequitur. Uh, I used to be. But now Im only in contact with my aunt.

What would you do? If you found out shed murdered someone?

Braxton, I cant answer that. Mainly for two reasons, she held up two fingers. First off, it hasnt happened to me. Secondly, Im not you. Im going to react far different than you, and my choices will be different than yours.

Braxton sat back in her chair, sipping her coffee. Damn, this is all so crazy. She chuckled lightly. I must say, he had it coming. Im actually surprised that no one else whacked him before now.

I gotta say, Ive seen dysfunctional families before, but

 They both cracked up laughing, effectively relieving the tension in the room.

Im sorry, Becca. You must think Im a mess. You always end up coming to my rescue when Im in tears. Im honestly not always this unstable.

Becca chuckled. No worries. I know youve been through a lot. And this

Well, lets just say Id be a mess, too.

Braxton reached across the short distance between them. Thank you, Becca. I mean it. Thank you.

Becca met Braxtons steady gaze, nodded. Youre welcome.

***

Margot sat in her daughters bedroom, curled up in the armchair and looking out the window. She wasnt sure what exactly she was expecting to see first: Braxton or the police. The latter hadnt shown up yet, so she was relieved when she saw Beccas van pull up to the curb, her and Braxton getting out.

***

Braxton saw Jareds car parked behind Carries, and felt immediate anger build in her. She rarely saw him anymore, and if he was at home, he was either with Karen, or was so distracted with talking on the phone to her that he wasnt there at all.

The house was quiet, Carrie sitting on the couch watching TV, only a lamp in the corner on for light. Braxton eyed her carefully, looking for any indication that the short brunette knew anything about what was going on. She simply glanced at her two roommates and waved a greeting then turned back to her show.

You want some ice cream? Becca asked as she shrugged out of her jacket.

Braxton shook her head. No. I dont think Id keep it down. But Ill join you.

The two women headed into the kitchen, a sudden burst of loud music penetrating the quiet murmur of the television as Jared opened his bedroom door. Jareds home, Becca observed. You can talk to him now.

Braxton glared over in his direction, hurt. Nah. I dont want to have to repeat myself.

Jared turned off his stereo, wanting to join Carrie for their favorite sit com when he saw Braxton and Becca heading into the kitchen. A huge grin on his face, happy to see his best friend after being at Karens for the past couple days, he followed.

Becca was dishing up some ice cream in a bowl, Braxton hopped up on a nearby counter, the two women were chatting. Hey, guys! Jared said, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a can of Dr Pepper.

Hey, Becca said absently, sucking some of the sweet treat from her thumb before closing up the container of Ben & Jerrys.

Braxton glanced at Jared, but quickly looked away, something he did not miss. Walking over to her, Jared wondered what the problem was. Hey, he said, leaning in to place a kiss on Braxtons cheek. She moved away, hopping down from the counter and across the kitchen. Hey! he followed, grabbing her by the arm and swinging her around. What the hell?

Ive got things to do, Jared. Braxton turned away from him and continued out of the kitchen, headed towards the stairs, but was commandeered and shoved toward the front door and out into the cold. Damn it, Jared! she exclaimed, trying to move past him and back into the house, but he blocked her path.

No, youre going to talk to me and tell me what the hell I did to piss you off, cause youre obviously mad about something.

Well, maybe if you bothered to turn your phone on once in awhile, youd know, she fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

What? Jared was completely baffled. I was busy, Braxton.

Yes, I know. While you and your girlfriend are rutting around like rabbits, shit is going on here.

Jared looked away, flushing slightly as that is exactly what he and Karen had been doing. Brax, I have a right to be with my girlfriend if I want to.

Yes, you do. But I want you to keep one thing in mind, Jared. What youre doing is exactly what you accused me of with Andrew. I really needed you today, and you werent here, which is fine. But you disappear off the face of the earth. Braxton stared him down, not flinching at the look of surprise on her longtime friends face.

Im sorry. What happened? he asked, shoving his hands contritely into the pockets of his cargo pants.

Braxton shook her head, moving to walk around him. Ive already had to talk about it once tonight. Im not doing it again. Im off to bed. Good night.

Jared stood out on the front stoop for a long moment before heading inside, locking the front door behind him.

***

Braxton slowed as she entered her bedroom, noting her mother asleep in her armchair. She closed her door and sat on the end of her bed, sighing heavily, shoulders slumped. She studied her mother, the peace on her slumbering features that was noticeably absent when Margot was awake. Braxton couldnt recall ever seeing that peace before.

Mom? she said, gently shaking her mothers shoulder. Wake up.

Margots eyes fluttered open. Hi, honey. Are you okay?

Braxton nodded. Just a lot to take in. Come on, its bed time. She helped her mother stand, then was enveloped in a hug. Braxton rested her head on Margots shoulder, allowing herself to be held for a long moment before stepping away. Well talk more later.

Alright. Good night, honey. With a kiss to her daughters cheek, Margot left the room.

Braxton looked around, bouncing lightly on her heels for a moment as she tried to decide what to do. She had class in the morning, but felt like doing anything but sleeping. She knew the nightmares would be bad, and for just a moment contemplated asking Becca if they could skip the middle and just invite the taller woman to stay with her, cause she knew it was more than likely that if Becca were in her room that night, shed be the one to awaken Braxton.

Chuckling at the ridiculousness of the thought, Braxton did what she always did when bored, troubled or couldnt sleep-grabbed a sketchpad. She flipped through the pages, looking over her work, and marveling at how much it had changed and matured over the weeks since classes had started. Shed always been a talented natural, but there were things she had never dreamed she could do until her professors had gotten to her.

She stopped on a page that immediately caught her attention. She had no recollection of drawing it. In the drawing was herself, penned against a wrought iron fence. Her eyes were wide and face filled with horror. Coming out of the left hand side of the page was a man with light-colored hair, pulled back into a ponytail. From the angle he was drawn, she couldnt see his face, but knew instinctively she felt fear looking at him.

Something in the shadows of the drawing caught her eye, however. Behind her own right shoulder was a figure, barely able to be seen. The figure had a hand resting on Braxtons shoulder, almost as though offering comfort. On closer inspection, the blonde realized that the figure looked amazingly like Becca. Shed drawn that figure before, long dark hair, intense gaze. Even as she looked at it and saw the amazing resemblance, she knew somehow that it wasnt meant to be Becca.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at her door. Come in, she called, flipping her sketchpad closed and stowing it next to her backpack on the floor. Her bedroom door opened and Jared peeked a tentative head inside. Come in, Jared, Braxton said, her voice tired, when he didnt enter. Her best friend stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him. Whats up?

Braxton already sat in the chair so Jared took the bed. He ran a hand through blonde hair before speaking. Ive been thinking about what you said. And though I wont apologize for falling in love with Karen, or having her in my life, you are right about what you said. You know me, he said with the charming smile that made women swoon. Im an extremist. All or nothing, right?

You dont need to apologize for Karen, Jared. Shes great. A mischievous glint entered green eyes. If you like older women.

Hey! Five years isnt that big a deal!

Braxton laughed. Her merriment died quickly. Do you remember last summer when we were at the county fair? That strange psychic lady?

Mysterious Martha, Jared remembered.

Yes. Mysterious Martha. She told me that this year my life would change drastically. Ive been thinking about that. At first I thought that maybe it was the accident, which, yes. It definitely changed my life. But theres more to it than that. She eyed Jared, dreading having to tell her story again, but needed Jared to be involved. Needed his wisdom and emotional help.

This is about your mom, isnt it? At Braxtons nod, he leaned forward. She left him, didnt she?

Its more than that, Jar. Much, much more than that. Fletchers dead. If the situation hadnt been so fatal, the look on Jareds face would have been amusing. It gets worse.

Jared stared at his friend when no more was forthcoming. Something

there was something more. A light bulb blinked to life in his imagination. No. She didnt-

She did. Braxton moved to the bed, needing to be physically close to Jared, and from his pallor, realized he might need her to be, too. It was a bit of an accident/self-defense thing. Either way, hes gone. The police were sniffing around here earlier today.

This is why you were trying to get hold of me, isnt it. At Braxtons nod, Jared felt horrible. He took his friend in his arms. God, Im sorry. They held each other for a long moment of silence Whats she going to do?

I dont know. We didnt get that far in the conversation. She told me what happened, and then I needed some space.

What are you going to do? Jared flopped back on the mattress, taking Braxton with him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

What do you mean?

Well, the cops are already on to her. Does she plan to hide out here?

Those were all questions Braxton had been asking herself for the past four hours since shed been told what Margot had done, and she wasnt any closer to an answer. I dont know. Its so wrong what she did, but hes such a bastard. Theres a part of me that says Fletcher got exactly what he deserved. Im so torn.

Would your mom ever have left him?

Braxton snorted. Hardly. Theirs was definitely a til death do you part type arrangement. Honestly, Im not completely surprised one of them is dead. I just figured it wouldnt be Fletcher.

Part 13

Braxton grabbed the bagel between her teeth, freeing her hands to throw together a quick lunch, which was tossed into her backpack. The house was chaos as everyone was in some state of readiness for morning classes that were all within forty-five minutes of each other.

Carrie! she shouted, yanking the bagel from her mouth. Lets go! Her request was greeted by the pitter patter of Carries hurried steps down the stairs, as shed used Becca and Braxtons bathroom to shower since Lydia was using the one downstairs. Braxton took a bite from her bagel when the wall phone in the kitchen rang. Spitting out the unchewed bite in her hand, she picked the handset. Hello?

May I please speak with Braxton Crowley? a deep, male voice said.

This is she, and make it quick, mister-Ive got class in seven minutes, Braxton said absently, glancing at her wrist watch, then over at Carries bedroom to see the shorter woman grabbing her backpack and keys.

Alright then, Miss Crowley. Ill make this brief. Im Detective Gene Maddox from Ivanwood, Colorado. Id like to speak to you about your mother, Margot. Im in town, and Id really like to get you down to the station so we can chat. When would be a good time for you?

Braxton felt the floor fall out from underneath her, breath catching in her throat. Oh. Uh. Well, Detective, I really have to get going. How about I give you a call later today, after classes?

Alright. Heres my cell number.

Braxton wrote down the digits, her fingers trembling around the pen. Okay, got it. Talk to you later, then. She set the handset in the cradle and felt nauseous. Dropping the bagel into the trash, she quietly headed for the front door, followed by Carrie.

You okay? the roommate asked, unlocking her car with the plastic remote.

Braxton nodded dumbly, climbing into the car.

***

Becca groaned as her feet hit the floor. She was tired, having been awoken by her own nightmares the night before, the events of the day with Margot bringing on memories she didnt want. Running her hands through her wild hair, she stood, craving a nice, long, hot shower. Gathering clean clothes, she padded out into the hall, only hearing the soft murmuring of a TV somewhere downstairs.

The water felt absolutely heavenly as it fell down her body, her hand reaching out to try and salvage as much hot water as she could, since everyone had already taken showers before class. Freshly showered and dressed, Becca padded downstairs, anxious to get her first cup of coffee of the morning.

Hey, Mrs. Crowley, she called out, noticing the older blonde sitting on the couch and watching some sort of talk show.

Good morning, Becca, Margot smiled at the beautiful woman who headed into the kitchen. Would you care for some breakfast? she asked, following.

Oh, no. You dont have to feed me. Becca began to prepare the coffeemaker.

I know. But I enjoy it. She immediately set about getting out ingredients that shed bought for just this purpose. Do you prefer sausage or bacon? Or do you eat meat at all? I know how you kids are these days.

Becca chuckled. Yes, I eat meat, and sausage, please.

Sausage it is. You sit down and keep me company.

Aright. Becca sat in one of the wobbly kitchen chairs, watching as Margot pulled out a loaf of bread, container of eggs, the sausage, butter, cheese, milk and sugar.

Waffles or French toast?

Oh, no, Mrs. Crowley-

Margot-

Margot, you dont need to go to this much trouble for me, Becca protested, starting to rise from her chair. She sat back down with an oomph when Margot put a hand to her shoulder and pushed with surprising strength.

Sit, you. And I want to go this much trouble, even though its no trouble at all. Margot gave her the most endearing smile. It made Becca miss her own mother, whom she hadnt spoken with in four and a half years. Besides, its nice to have someone appreciate what I do.

Becca didnt respond to that, instead walking over to the coffeemaker and preparing herself a cup of coffee and pouring Margot one. How do you like it, Margot?

Black is fine with me, honey.

Black it is. Here you go. Becca set the filled cup on the counter next to Margots working space, then reclaimed her seat. She stared at the older womans back, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to decide what to do. Now that they were alone, she considered bringing up what shed been told the night before by Braxton, but didnt want to get the girl in trouble. Little did she know that Margot was having very similar thoughts.

Becca, she began, back to the younger woman as she began to prepare her breakfast. Are you happy here?

Surprised by the strange question, Becca set her cup down, as she was about to take a drink. Yes. Why?

So you plan to stay then? Margot chanced a quick glance over her shoulder before turning back to her task.

In the house? Yes.

Good. Braxton seems to really like you, and youre such a nice girl. Unbroken egg in her hand, she turned to fully face the beautiful young woman. I need to ask a favor of you.

Sure. Becca was curious and gave Braxtons mother her full attention.

I need you to look out for her. Keep an eye on her. Jared is gone a lot now, I notice, and with the looks of things with Karen, Id say itll be more time away than less. Braxton is going to need someone. Someone she can trust and can lean on. Do you think you can do that for me?

Of course I can. Becca tucked her bottom lip underneath her upper teeth again then decided to bring it up. Are you planning on turning yourself in, Margot?

Margot gasped, the egg she had in her hand falling to the floor and shattering. Within moments she and Becca were kneeling on the floor, cleaning up shell and yolk. Their gazes met.

Dont be mad at her, Becca said softly, sopping up the mess with a paper towel. Jared wasnt here and she needed someone to talk to. Ill never say a word.

Margot placed a gentle touch to Beccas cheek. I know you wont. Theres a calm strength in you, Becca. You just know right away with you that youre trustworthy.

Becca looked away, unable to take the genuine look of respect she saw in Margots eyes. Thanks, she muttered, standing and tossing the soiled towel into the trash.

And, yes. Im turning myself in. I cant be a burden on Braxton.

You know you wont be. She loves you and will do anything to help. We all will.

Margot studied the taller woman for a long moment before turning back to her breakfast preparations. You arent suggesting I run, are you? she said quietly. And which did you want? Waffles or French toast?

Waffles. Margot, I know where youre headed, if you make that decision. Ive

 Beccas voice trailed off, her stomach roiling. She swallowed several times then decided to continue. Ive been there. I just got out after serving four years for vehicular assault. A man is in a wheelchair for the rest of his life because of me. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to go where Ive been.

Do the kids know? Margot asked, her back still to Becca. About where youve been?

No.

What kind of lesson am I teaching my daughter, Becca, if I dont pay the piper for my sins? My house is extremely large, with extremely large windows, and stones hurt. She turned to the younger woman, who had moved to the counter perpendicular to the one Margot was working on. Becca leaned against it, arms crossed over her shoulder.

Youre teaching her a lesson of survival. From what she said youve been through, you dont deserve to spend the rest of your life in a six by eight cell. Youre better than that.

Arent you? Margot challenged.

This isnt about me, Margot. This is about a daughter who needs her mother.

Margot turned away, blinking several times to keep her emotions at bay. I know, she whispered. For so many years I prayed that God would get me out of that marriage. Get Braxton and I away from Fletcher. I thought Hed truly answered my prayers when Braxton went off to school. But then it just got worse for me. Not that I begrudged my daughter her happiness or freedom, mind you, she clarified with a hard look.

Margot, Becca moved over to her, placing a tentative hand on her forearm until the older woman met her very serious gaze. I can hide you. It breaks my heart to think of you going off to that place. Youre a good woman, and dont deserve that. Its hell in there, Margot.

Honey, Margot said softly, covering Beccas hand with her own. Nothing can be worse than Fletcher. Trust me on that, okay?

***

Braxton sat in her class, pencil tapping rhythmically against her test. Though she had studied for her Twentieth Century Artists class, her mind was wandering dangerously. Shed answered less than half of the questions, and the clock was ticking.

Damn, she muttered, realizing that some of her fellow students were already finishing their tests and leaving. She shook herself free of thought and returned her focus to the task at hand.

As she walked down the busy halls of the art building, Braxton heaved her backpack higher onto her shoulder. She was headed to her next class when suddenly something struck her mind. She found a bench and fell down onto it, gasping.

Holy shit.

The realization that her father was dead hit her between the eyes. This realization, however, had nothing to do with grief or sadness. She now knew that she was safe. There was no longer a shadow lurking over her shoulder, threatening to yank her back to Ivanwood for the slightest perceived sin. She was free to live her life as she wished. The bastard was dead.

Several people glanced at the woman sitting on the bench, who seemed to be laughing at nothing at all.

Hey, Brax. Are you okay? one of Braxtons acquaintances asked, stopping in front of her.

Braxton sobered, but only slightly. Tina, can get grab a ride home from you?

***

The rain was pouring down as Braxton climbed out of Tinas truck, yelling a quick thanks before running up the walk to the house, holding the ends of her jacket closed as she did. Once inside, she shook her head to shake the water from her hair, blowing out a breath.

Damn, thats some rain, she muttered, shrugging out of her backpack and heading toward the stairs. Mom? she called, tossing the heavy pack onto the bed, where it nearly bounced back off. She tore her wet shirt off, standing in her bra as she dug through her dresser drawers for a dry shirt.

Hey, Brax-oh, shit! Sorry. Becca hurried out of the room and into the hall.

Braxton looked up, surprised, then looking down at herself. Oops. Sorry, Becca. She chuckled. Okay, shirts on. You can come in.

Looking a little sheepish, Becca appeared around the corner. Sorry. Didnt realize you were dressing.

Dont sweat it. I should have closed my door. Besides, Id be willing to bet good money youve seen a woman in just a bra before.

Becca looked away, a hand coming up to cup the back of her neck nervously. Oh, yeah. Once or twice. Some rain, huh?

Yeah. A nice precursor for the snow well get in a few weeks. Braxton dug through her backpack, picking out her sketchpad and pencils.

Youre home early, Becca commented, stepping into the room and leaning a shoulder against the wall just inside the door.

I know. Come on in. Braxton indicated the armchair, Or you can sit on the bed. Your choice. It might be a little more comfortable.

Becca chose the bed, sitting next to the sketchpad, running a fingertip over the textured cover. Mind if I look? she asked, tapping a finger on it.

Yeah, sure. Go for it. But, she said, stopping Becca from picking up the pad with a hand to her wrist. Blue eyes met Braxtons gaze. Be nice.

Becca grinned, eyes twinkling. Im always nice, Braxton.

Braxton looked away, for some reason blushing slightly at Beccas words. Yeah, well, be nice this time, too.

Becca got comfortable and flipped open the cover, marveling at the talent of the hand that had created the pictures. Damn, she murmured, eyes never leaving the page she was on. Youre really good, Braxton.

Okay, I said be nice, but I didnt say blow smoke up my ass, Braxton said shyly, even though inside she was glowing with pride and pleasure.

Becca smiled and continued to flip through the sketches.

You enjoy. Ill be back. Need to go talk to my mom. Braxton was turning toward the door when she was stopped by a hand on her arm.

Shes not here, Braxton.

Confused, Braxton scowled. Where is she?

I dont know. She said she had some errands to run.

Braxton felt panic clench her gut, a cold sweat beginning to trickle down her spine. What kind of errands, Becca?

I truly dont know. Becca looked into the wide eyes of the blonde, and for a moment thought about telling Braxton about her and Margots conversation earlier that morning. She wasnt sure it was her right, though. What if Margot changed her mind? What if she got angry, as it was certainly her place to tell her daughter her plans, not Beccas. I dont know, she said again, turning her attention back to the drawings.

Braxton plopped down in the armchair, tossing her backpack back to the floor, leaving Becca alone on the bed other than the sketchpad she was looking through. Becca?

Mm? the taller woman said absently.

Im glad she did it.

Beccas head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. You are?

Yes. You never got the pleasure of meeting Fletcher Crowley, did you?

Becca shook her head. Nope. Cant say as I did.

Well, let me tell you that I lived in fear of that son-of-a-bitch for twenty-one years. Every move I made, even while here at school, he saw. Every decision I made, I knew he was aware of. She turned in the chair, bringing her legs up to flop them over an arm. Did you know that I had my first taste of alcohol in January of this past year? Id been here more than two years already! Not that getting drunk is a priority for me or anything, mind you. Braxton didnt miss the pained look on Beccas face, no matter how fleeting, at those words. But I figured hed know. Hed somehow see what I was doing and send his buddy Jesus up this way to strike me down.

Becca set the sketchpad aside, not realizing that her own eyes gazed up at her from the page, so she could give Braxton her full attention. Sounds like a real prince.

Of Darkness, maybe. Today it hit me. I mean, really hit me, that he was gone. That I will never have to worry about him again. Even though my mother swung the blows, I feel like Ive beaten my biggest demon somehow. Like I was there, I killed him. I got him out of my life and out of my head. She studied Becca for a long moment. Am I crazy, Becca? A heartless bitch?

Becca blew out a breath, shaking her head. No. Youre a beautiful, intelligent, talented young woman who is finally free to live her life as she sees fit. You can wake up now, the monsters gone.

***

Margot glanced into the rearview mirror, noting the presence of the rust-colored sedan, the windshield wipers whipping as quickly as her own to try and keep the smooth surface free of the pounding rain. She couldnt see the man behind the wheel, though she didnt need to. After all, shed spent the entire morning sitting across a table from him, telling him everything, every detail, every moment.

Before heading to the police station, Margot had driven around the town, taking in everything she could. She stopped and had a decadent lunch, then saw a movie. Shed found an empty roadway and had pushed the pedal to the metal and spun out a few times, enjoying the rush of speed and adrenaline, knowing it was likely to be her last.

Detective Gene Maddox had been kind, no judgment in his voice or his questions. He simply wanted to know the truth, and had told her the truth in kind. Fletchers body had been found not four hours after Margot had walked away, one of his parishioners had come by the house to seek out his ministers guidance. Fletchers body had been seen through the window, and the godly man had called the police.

Margot wasnt surprised, and wasnt even scared, though she knew it would catch up with her. Shed never done well with change, or perhaps she would have changed her life a long time ago. Either way, she had done the right thing for her soul, and though shed committed a heinous sin, she could only hope that God would be merciful since shed confessed her sins, and was willing to pay the price, no matter what that would be. What she hoped for the most, however, would be that Braxton could forgive her for not only taking her father away, but herself, as well.

Shed done what she could for her daughter, taking a trip to an attorney and the bank today, as well. Braxton would be taken care of.

The two cars pulled up in front of the large Victorian, the rain making the day gray and dreary. Soon a black and white squad car pulled up behind Detective Maddoxs. Pissy day, huh? the detective said, opening an umbrella as he walked over to Margot. He shielded her from the misery as they headed up the path.

Oh, I dont know, the older woman said, looking up into the sky. She almost wanted to stand under its baptismal drops, but couldnt deny Gene Maddox his gentlemanly attempt. I always loved the rain.

Once theyd hit the porch, the detective stopped Margot with a hand to her shoulder, the uniformed officer hopping up to the top step under the cover of the porch. Margot, I can only give you a few minutes, okay?

Margot nodded in understanding. Thank you for this, Gene. Its greatly appreciated. She pushed the front door open and stepped into the house, followed by the two men.

Her heart began to beat faster when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she waited.

Braxton hit the main floor and was startled to see the party of three standing in the middle of the living room. Her mother was flanked by an police officer and a man in a wrinkled suit, all three had hair plastered to their heads from the rain.

Whats going on? she asked slowly, her gaze bouncing off all three before finally settling on her mother.

Honey, this is Detective Gene Maddox, I believe you spoke with him this morning. Hes come all the way from home for me. This is Officer John Webb. Hes going to be escorting me.

Escorting you where? Somehow Braxton couldnt get her brain to wrap around what was happening, even though she knew exactly what was happening.

Margot stepped away from the two men and over to her daughter. She reached into her purse and dug out a large, sealed envelope. When I leave today, Braxton, I want you to open this and read it carefully. Alright?

Braxton looked down at the offering and shook her head slowly. No, she said, her voice small. She distantly heard footfalls on the stairs behind her, then a warm presence. No, I dont want it.

Margot misunderstood her daughters reaction, the sadness within almost overwhelming. She set the envelope on a nearby table. Well, its there when youre ready, I guess. She stepped forward, taking Braxton into a final hug, ready to pull away from the limp body when suddenly fingers of iron dug into her back as Braxtons arms flew up and around her.

No! Braxton cried, realization finally hitting her heart. No! You cant go! No! She pulled away, holding her mother by the shoulders. We can hide you, she whispered desperately. You did nothing wrong. We can hide you!

Margot shook her head, her hand reaching up to palm her daughters tear-streaked face. No, honey, I did do wrong. I should have left your father years ago rather than doing what I did. She smiled big and bright, her heart light and conscience clear. Honey, its okay. Dont cry for me. She brushed the tears away with her thumbs. Im free, Braxton. Dont you understand? Im free now.

Braxton could barely see through her tears now as her mother hugged her one more time. The younger woman buried her face in the warmth of Margots neck, her entire body heaving with sobs. Just when I got you youre leaving, she cried, the little girl inside clutching desperately at her momma.

Margots eyes squeezed shut. Im here, my baby. Ill always be here. I love you. She pulled away, unable to take the anguish she could hear in Braxtons voice. In that voice she heard the cries of the baby Braxton had once been. She remembered back in those days that all she had to do was rock her, and soon Braxton would fall back to sleep.

Braxton let go as Margot pulled away, backing up toward the two men who stood waiting. She felt as though her entire world were crashing around her feet, and her legs nearly fell out from beneath her. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and Braxton sank into them, back against a solid body.

Still crying, Braxton watched as the police officer quietly read Margot her rights, turning her so her back was to him as he brought slim wrists to her lower back, placing metal cuffs around each one. Margot looked over her shoulder at Braxton one last time, a smile upon her lips and peace in her eyes. She looked at her daughter as long as she could until she was led out the front door and back out into the rain, the detectives umbrella once again shielding Margot from the rain.

Part 14

Becca held Braxton, burying her face in blonde hair. She wanted to cry along with the smaller woman, knowing this must have been what it was like for her mother and brothers the day she was escorted out of the courtroom in handcuffs, on her way to a womens correctional facility. The words still echoed in her head:

Rebecca Molly Steiner, you have been found guilty of a DWI, Aggravated Assault, resulting in the paralyzing of Richard Rodriquez. I hereby sentence you to eight to ten years in the Tremont Womens Correctional Facility, and a ten thousand dollar fine.

She could still hear the anguished cry of her mother and the cheers of her victims family. She shook herself from some of the most painful memories of her life as she knew right now Braxton needed her. This was about her, not Becca.

The front door suddenly burst open and Jared ran in, out of breath. He looked around with wide, wild eyes before settling in on Braxton and Becca, worry and fear warring on his handsome face. He hurried over to them.

What happened? he asked, gulping in a lungful of air. I just passed a police car and swore I saw Margot in the back of it.

Braxton nodded, leaving Beccas embrace, though reluctantly. She turned herself in, she said, voice rough and raw from her racking sobs. She used her sleeve to wipe at her eyes and face. They just took her away.

Jared fell back against the arm of the couch, looking dejected. Wow. He looked up at her. Are you okay?

Braxton shrugged. I will be. It was her choice. She laughed bitterly. I just wish she wouldve given me some advance warning.

She didnt because she knew youd be upset, Braxton. She didnt want you to do anything stupid, Becca said softly. She found all attention in the room on her. We talked this morning. I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldnt budge.

Who the hell are you? Jared asked, pushing up from his perch on the arm. Who are you to get involved in this? What the hell do you know?

Jared! Braxton said, stunned at his behavior. She watched in horror as her best friend walked over to Becca, who hadnt moved a muscle, and got right in her face.

You stay out of this. From what I heard about you, you should keep your nose clean and stay out of our business. His voice was a low growl of warning.

Becca held her ground, meeting her gaze unwavering. Do you have a problem with me, Jared? she asked calmly.

Yeah. I got a problem with you playing the nursemaid to Braxton. She doesnt need to be poisoned by you.

Jesus, Jared! Braxton insinuated herself between them, back to Becca as she looked up into Jareds face. Shed never seen him like that before, and was torn between being completely pissed off at him and concerned at his words. What has gotten into you? She grabbed his arms, shaking him just enough to get his attention. What are you doing?

Ask your new friend. He stepped back Braxtons grasp and headed toward his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Stunned, Braxton couldnt move for a moment.

Hes right, Braxton. You should probably stay away from me, Becca said softly, her voice filled with pain. She turned and headed up the stairs, her own door slamming behind her.

What the fuck just happened? Braxton asked the suddenly very empty room. She turned toward Jareds bedroom and slammed into it.

Fuck, Brax! he cried out, holding the sweats he was about to change into in front of himself. Can you knock?!

Nothing I havent seen before, Jar. Trust me. Now I want some answers. Braxton held her ground, arms crossed over her chest.

Having no choice, Jared quickly tugged on the sweats and a t-shirt over his bared chest. Why dont you go ask your buddy upstairs. She can fill you in.

Because Im asking you. She walked up to him, demanding an answer. Youre the one who acted like an asshole. She has been nothing but kind to me during all this, especially since you couldnt be found! I wont let you treat her that way, or talk about her like that.

Shes a fucking criminal, Braxton, Jared hissed.

Braxton was too angry to feel any emotion or reaction from his words. Explain.

Jack said-

Jack? You believe anything he has to say?

Hes good friends with Alicias boyfriend, Brax. He heard it from him.

Fine. Heard what?

She just got out of jail. She was there for four years! No wonder she and Margot got along so well.

The sound of the slap echoed in the room, both Braxton and Jared staring at each other in shock. Braxton bounced back first. You can be a real asshole sometime, Jared. Maybe you need to figure out what it really means to be a friend. I remember how you hung up on me that night, and I wont forget it. I always thought you were one of the best, kindest guys Id ever met, but I have to say, this past year, hell, these past six months, youve proven me wrong.

Oh, and youre the saint? Jared fired back, his cheek still flared from the slap. What about the way you treated me when you were with that wasted piece of shit, Andrew?! How many times did you stand me up? How many times did you ditch all of your friends for him?

A mistake that I very nearly paid for with my life! Braxton shouted back. Now, you cant even manage to turn your goddamn phone on, let alone spend any time with us! You dont give a shit about anyone but yourself.

Jared felt his anger boil. His voice was low and gravely. I spent every day at that hospital with Margot after your accident. Every day! How dare you tell me I dont care? Fuck you, Braxton!

No, fuck you! Braxton turned and slammed out of the bedroom, running up to her bedroom and slamming the door so hard the wall trembled.

***

Lydia locked her car and trotted up the walk, mindful of the deep puddles that had formed in the broken concrete during the storm earlier. The house was quiet, too quiet. A heavy tension hung in the air that made Lydias brows draw. Jareds bedroom door was closed, all quiet in the room behind it. That wasnt unusual, as he was likely with Karen. She did, however, notice that her bedroom door was open, which was unusual, as Margot typically had it closed.

Walking over to the darkened room, Lydia clicked on the bedroom light and looked around. The bed was neatly made, not a wrinkle in sight. Margots overnight bag was gone, though Lydia knew she had seen the older womans car out front. Something felt off.

She walked over to Jareds closed door and knocked. Jar, you home? No answer. Ookay. She headed into the kitchen, which was clean and empty. On a table next to the love seat was an envelope with Braxtons name written across it. Tucking it under her arm, she headed up the stairs, her hand running along the time-worn banister. Both Beccas and Braxtons doors were closed, loud music pulsating out of both. Jesus, she muttered, walking over to Braxtons. How can either of them hear anything? She knocked, but it was not answered, as she figured Braxton probably couldnt hear it. She decided to pound.

Braxton glanced up from her work at the pounding on her door. For a moment she considered ignoring it, as it might be Jared, and honestly, she wasnt in the mood to see anyone. When the pounding persisted, she groaned and tossed her sketchpad aside, uncurling herself from the armchair. Lydia stood on the other side of the door, stepping back in surprise when Braxton threw the door open.

Hey, Lydia said, hugging the envelope in front of her like a shield. Uh, this was downstairs for you.

Braxton looked down at it, having totally forgotten it was there. Thanks. She took it.

Whats going on? Is everything okay? Wheres Margot?

If you dont mind, Id rather wait until everyone is here tonight so I can tell you guys once. Okay?

Yeah, sure. Is she okay?

Okay is a relative term, I think. But basically, yes. Braxton leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.

You dont look so good, Braxton, Lydia commented, concern filling her voice.

Ill be fine. A lot has happened. She felt tired, and her soul was worn raw. She wanted nothing more than to just curl up and sleep for a month.

Okay. Ill have to take your word for it. Im home for the rest of the day, and Carrie should be in an hour or so. She turned to leave but stopped, chewing her lower lip before speaking. You and the battling rocker might want to turn things down a bit. You guys are shaking the rafters.

Okay. Sorry. Braxton immediately turned her stereo volume way down, pounding the wall separating her room from Beccas at the same time. Within a moment the music was turned off.

Left alone again, Braxton headed back to her chair, moving her sketchpad aside and curling up with the envelope her mother had given her. She carefully opened the sealed flap, barely catching the set of keys that slid out into her palm. She recognized them as the keys to her mothers car parked outside. A thick stack of papers was inside as well, including the signed over deed to her childhood home, as well as the sedan. There was also a smaller envelope, which contained a folded up letter and a cashiers check made out in the amount of ten thousand dollars, made out in Braxtons name.

My god, Mom, she whispered. Unfolding the note, she read:

Braxton—

I cant apologize enough for what Ive taken from you, though I cant say I mean your father, exactly. Anyone can donate sperm to create a life, but only a true bastard can destroy a life, as he tried to do to us both. I dont want you to cry for him, as hes not worth your tears.

I, however, will forever be sorry that Im away from you. I love you, my only child. Youre the only one whos ever truly had my love, Braxton. I hope you know that. You were always loved and wanted by me. Im sorry I was too weak to be the mother you deserved. Let that be my cross to bear, not yours.

I want you to take this money and make yourself a life. I know its not much, but its something. Fletchers life insurance will take care of the house and the rest of our bills, so I dont want you to worry about that. Keep the house or sell it, its all yours free and clear.

I only ask that you dont hate me. Ive done many things in my life that Im ashamed of, or wish so badly I could redo. There are only two that I will never regret: having you and ridding my life of your father.

Love always,

Mom

Braxton set the letter down with a sigh, looking over everything that she had spread out on her lap. It was such a bitter/sweet feeling. It was a relief, as money was so tight, and now she was in for more education costs that her scholarship wouldnt cover. But, at the same time, it was heartbreaking that her mothers loss of freedom was the price.

Braxton glanced over at the wall she shared with Becca, wishing she could see through it, see what her roommate was doing. What she was thinking. Was she angry at Jared? What was he talking about? All those questions had been swirling through her head since the moment Jared had made his accusations, but shed decided to let herself cool down before talking to Becca. Now she felt ready.

Becca was lying on her bed, booted foot tapping to the beat that echoed through her head, her hands playing air guitar as her MP3 player blared in her ears. Somewhere off in the distance she thought she heard someone knock at her door, but wasnt sure, so she ignored it. She didnt really want to see anyone anyway. There it was again.

Damn it, she muttered, tugging the earbud headphones out of her ears and wrapping them around the tiny music player as she walked toward the door. Opening it, she found Braxton standing on the other side.

Hi, the blonde said. Can we talk for a minute?

Becca said nothing, simply walked back into the room, leaving her door open for Braxton to enter or not. Braxton followed, softly closing Beccas door behind her. She looked around, noting how vastly different it looked from when it had been Jareds room. Shed spent almost as many hours in there as she had in her own room back in those days.

Beccas bed wasnt Jareds king-sized monstrosity that had nearly taken up the entire room. Instead, she was sleeping on a more practical twin, considering the small space. Plastic, multi-colored crates were stacked in the corner, which Braxton assumed held Beccas clothing, considering there was no dresser anywhere. Piles of books littered one wall, no bookcase to stow them in. The walls were lined with framed scenic photographs, eleven by fourteen or bigger. One even had her in it.

Im guessing you know the photographer? Braxton asked softly, turning in a small circle to take in the wonderful pictures.

Yes. My brother, James, Becca answered from her seat on the bed.

Hes fantastic.

Can we get to it, Braxton? Somehow I dont think you came in here to talk about wall art.

Braxton nodded, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Nope, youre right. I didnt. She looked around for somewhere to sit, and chose the end of the bed, as the only other place was the floor or a stack of books. Becca pulled her legs in to make more room. She met Braxtons gaze dead on. What was Jared talking about? Is this what you werent able to tell me that one night? After my nightmare.

Becca nodded. Yes. What he said is true. I am a criminal. Well, was, anyway. I did my time. Four years. I did my time, and it pissed me off to no end that he threw that in my face.

Braxton was surprised by the fire in Beccas eyes and growl in her tone. Im sorry he did and said that, Becca. It wasnt right. I dont know whats gotten into Jared lately. Sometimes I feel like I dont know him at all anymore. They were both silent for a moment before Braxton got them back on track. Will you tell me now? What happened? she asked softly.

Becca nodded, blowing out a breath in preparation for her story. I need to start at the beginning so you get a clear picture of everything.

Okay. Braxton braced herself for the worst.

I grew up in a very tight-knit family: mother who worked real estate, father who was a dentist, and four brothers-two older, two younger. The oldest is who took those pictures. Anyway, we were the all-American family, very Normal Rockwell, and very conservative. When I was 15 I went into modeling. At first just local stuff, then eventually I was picked up by an agency out of New York. I moved there at 17, leaving my family and all my family values behind.

I met Paula. She was nearly 30, beautiful and quite worldly, which I was decidedly not.

Braxton smiled at that.

She not only taught me how to drink and the world of drugs, but she also introduced me to the world of sex between two women. It was easy for me to experiment with her there, after all, I was nearly two thousand miles away from my mothers Sunday school classes. We were together off an on for about two years before I came back home. I had no idea that I had broken her heart, as mine certainly hadnt been in the mix.

Anyway, Becca continued, I came back, deciding Id had enough of the modeling world, as Id already been in it for six years. I was ready to get a normal life back, start college, discover girls, the whole nine yards. My parents had no idea the things Id done while in New York. All they knew was they were the proud parents of what my mom called a super model, which was hardly the case, but I did alright.

I bet, Braxton added. Youre beautiful.

Becca smiled, somewhat shy. Thank you. Paula decided to come surprise me with a visit. Pretty needless to say that it went over like a lead balloon, and suddenly my secret was out. I denied the whole thing, of course. Denied that Paula and I were ever anything other than neighbors in the same building back in New York. Her eyes took on a far away, glazed look. I was so afraid theyd treat me just like they had Barbie all those years. My fathers one and only sister, and completely disowned the day she came out. Then, to add insult to injury, she becomes a tattoo artist! Not a good time for her. But I digress. Where was I?

Paula came to visit, denial.

Right. Anyway, no matter how much I denied it, they looked to Paula, this older woman who was suggesting the impossible. Becca looked away, her voice cracking on the last word.

Braxton moved until she was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Becca, their backs resting against the cold wall, as Becca had no headboard attached to the bed frame her mattress rested in. Feeling an acute need to comfort this wonderful, gentle woman who had come to her aid so many times, during so many nightmares. She grabbed Beccas hand, holding it between both of her own. They listened to her, didnt they? she asked softly.

Becca nodded, closing her eyes at the surge of warmth that shot through her at Braxtons kindness. Why wouldnt they, I guess? It was true; I was the liar, not Paula.

But even still, you were their daughter, not Paula.

Becca sighed. She felt so tired, the memories weighing her down. Anyway, me and my father got into a huge fight. He told me to leave, never to return until I could shake my ways, and that he didnt want me to turn out like Barbara. Alright, so be it. I was young and stupid. I jumped into my Porsche, - she glanced at Braxton  which my parents had a fit about, and peeled off into the night. I picked up a couple friends that Id grown up with and we scored some booze and some weed, and went out like the idiots we were.

Braxton felt a sense of dread at what was to come. She could feel the sorrow washing off Becca in waves, and squeezed her hand tighter. What happened, Becca? she whispered.

Becca looked down into her lap, trying desperately to blink away the sting behind her eyes. She could see that night before her minds eye so clear. It had rained, and the streets were shiny, reflecting everything from the traffic lights to the storefront signs along the drive. He came out from nowhere, she said, her voice hoarse with regret. She looked at Braxton, her eyes nearly neon blue from the gathering tears. I swear it, Braxton. I didnt see him.

Braxton met the tortured gaze. What happened to him? She reached a hand up, brushing the tears away that rolled down Beccas cheeks. Is he



Becca shook her head, looking away. No, though Im sure his family wished he were. She let out an explosive breath. Richard Rodriquez. Ill never forget that name as long as I live. Nor the wheelchair I put him in. With those final words, the last of Beccas strength faltered, and she shattered. She hadnt told the entire story out loud before, not even to her cellmate, her lover, during their long nights of talking and dreaming.

Braxton felt her heart break for the devastated woman sitting next to her. Come here, she whispered. At first Becca fought against her comfort, but eventually gave in, allowing herself to be taken into willing, strong arms. Cry it out, Braxton whispered, stroking Beccas back and kissing the crown of her head. Let it all out.

Becca clung to Braxton, her body finally doing what she hadnt done since her first night in prison-cry. After a long moment her tears began to slow then stop. She sniffled then slowly pulled away from Braxton, unable to meet her gaze. Im sorry. I feel like a baby.

Dont you dare apologize. How many times have I cried on you in the past month? I think you must think Im emotionally unstable.

Becca laughed, glad the tension was broken. Well, there you have it. My secret, and why I dont drink.

Braxton smiled at the beautiful woman, her hand still running through thick, light brown locks. I think youre very braze, Becca. Youve been through so much, and paid such a heavy price. And yet, here you are, reclaiming your life.

No, Braxton, Im not. Becca let out a heavy breath. Im just going through the motions. I dont have a life anymore. I dont feel like I deserve to be here, to be completely honest. I just dont know who I am anymore.

How long have you been out?

Not quite four months. I was staying with my aunt for a bit before I found this place. She gave me a chance to save up some money.

that was nice of her, Braxton said softly, brushing strands behind Beccas ear.

She knows what its like to be a family reject. I never turned my back on her when her entire family did. Good thing, I guess. Becca reached across Braxton to the bedside table and tugged a tissue from the box that rested there. She blew her nose after wiping her face free of tears. Shes a good lady. She never deserved to be treated like that.

Then Im glad shes here for you now. And now I am, too. Braxton stilled her hand, resting it on Beccas knee. I like you, Becca. I did from the start. Youre a good person, have a good heart. If you need anything, please dont hesitate to ask.

Becca met Braxtons gaze for a long moment, just as surprised as she was pleased by the generous offer. Thank you. And the same goes for you. Anything. Okay?

Okay. Braxton turned so she was facing Becca and opened her arms. The two embraced for a long moment before Becca released her with a tight squeeze. I think I hear talking downstairs. I gotta go fill everyone in on whats going on. Wanna come or will you be okay?

Im alright. Becca gave her a brave smile. What about you? Need some back up?

Honestly? Braxton said, a bit sheepish.

Becca laughed, nudging the blonde to get off the bed. Come on. Lets go.

Part 15

Braxton licked the excess peanut butter off her thumb before spinning the lid back onto the Jiffy jar followed by the strawberry jelly jar. She cleaned up her mess then carried her lunch into the living room, plopping down on the couch, feet tucked under her.

Hey, Carrie breezed by to her bedroom, happy to have her own space back once Lydia was able to move to her own room again.

Hiya, Car, Braxton called, taking a bite from her sandwich as she flipped through the TV channels. After a few moments the short brunette joined her, stealing a chip from her plate.

How did it go at school? she asked.

Good. Everyone was cool about it. I dont plan to miss more than three or four days of classes. Braxton took a swallow from her glass of cold milk. They gave me a heads up for what would be coming when I got back so Id be prepared.

Good. Im sorry I cant go with. Ive got this huge project I cant miss.

Braxton turned to look at her friend, seeing the genuine regret in the dark eyes. She smiled, giving Carrie a quick, one-armed hug. Dont worry about it. I know you guys are all busy. Besides, this is my mess, and its going to be boring as hell, and depressing as hell.

Exactly why one of us should go with you, Brax. Carrie kept her eyes on the TV, as she knew if she looked at the blonde she would want to cry. So I take it that asshole isnt going with you?

Braxton didnt have to ask who that asshole was. Since her fight with Jared, word had spread around the house and he was officially in the dog house. Not like anyone had seen him. Hed left to go to Karens the morning after the fight, and had only stopped back in to get clean clothes once since.

No, hes not, Braxton confirmed. And whatever, Carrie. Hes got his own life. He doesnt owe me anything.

Bullshit! Carrie exclaimed, turning in her seat to face her friend. The hell he doesnt, Braxton. You guys have been best friends since you were zygotes! He owned you common courtesy if nothing else.

Braxton couldnt decide whether to be amused or touched by Carries fiery speech. Friendships die, Carrie. I think ours has run into a crossroads. She shrugged, putting her plate on the coffee table, appetite fading. Im not sure where ours is. Braxton grew quiet as the thoughts that shed been mulling over for days was finally said out loud, and it cut deep. She felt soft fingers work through her hair.

You okay?

Braxton nodded at Carries soft words, unable to use her voice yet, as she feared it would tremble. Hes happy, Carrie. He has Karen, and I cant begrudge him that.

Carrie looked at her friend for a long moment until Braxton began to squirm slightly under the scrutiny. She had known the blonde throughout their entire college career, liking Braxton immediately upon their first meeting. At one time early on, shed had a horrible crush on Braxton, her gaydar pinging instantly with the blonde. Shed been shocked to find out that she was straight. She had seen Braxton go through her ups and downs, usually involving Andrew, Braxton always accepting the short end of the stick she was offered, and smiling a polite thank you. She had always felt the petit blonde was worth so much more than that. She just wished Braxton thought so, too.

This situation with Jared was no exception. Carrie knew Braxton had hurt his feelings time and again when she bent to the whims of the controlling Andrew. Even so, the two best friends had been there for each other without question, until about the last year, when Jared seemed to pull away. Carrie was never sure if it had been his jealousy over his own romantic feelings for Braxton, or just simply as a best friend, used to always getting Braxtons attention, was no longer her sole focus. Either way, the crack had been slow but sure. Now, Carrie feared it had become a chasm that may not be breachable.

Well, Carrie said with a bright smile, that she didnt entirely feel. You know Lydie and I are here for you. We may not be able to join you in Ivanwood, but were a phone call away if you need to talk. Okay?

I really appreciate that, thank you. Braxton gave her friend a hearty hug, both separating in time to see Becca head up the stairs. Braxton chuckled at Carries sigh.

God, I cant get her to notice me, she lamented, her gaze locked to where the tall woman had just disappeared. She turned to Braxton. You guys have become friends. What do you think?

About what? Braxton asked slowly, unsure what Carrie would ask.

About Becca. Do you think shes a lesbian? Lydia doesnt think so, but Id be willing to bet my next paycheck on it.

I dont know, Carrie, Braxton said, surprised to feel a small stab of jealousy. How would I know? Arent you supposed to be the expert on this? At least, half-way? Braxtons evil grin belied the turmoil inside.

Cute, Carrie drawled. She sighed and turned back toward the stairs. I just wish I knew how to get her attention. She is one of the hottest women Ive ever seen.

She is beautiful, Braxton said, turning her attention back to the TV.

Do you think its true? What Jared said?

Jared is an asshole, Carrie. You just said so yourself, Braxton fired, immediately regretting it when she saw the hurt in the smaller womans eyes. Im sorry. Wow. Im really sorry. She ran her hands through her hair, making it stand on end. You should talk to Becca about that, Carrie. Its not my place to talk about. She met Carries eyes, unable to understand why her temper had flared. Okay?

Carrie nodded, giving Braxton a brave smile. Im sorry. I didnt mean to pry. She reached over, taking Braxtons hand and squeezing it in friendship.

***

Braxton chewed on her lower lip as she took visual stock of everything on her bed that she intended to take with her on her short stay. Shit. I need socks. She had just reached out to open her sock drawer when a soft knock sounded on her door. Come in, Braxton called absently, rooting around until she found the four pairs of socks she wanted.

The bedroom door opened, Becca peeking her head inside. Hey.

Oh, hi. Come on in. Im just packing.

Going to Ivanwood? Becca asked, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, watching.

Yeah. Howd you know that? Braxton asked, tossing one pair after the other of her socks into the open duffel.

Heard you and Carrie talking. Whats in Ivanwood? Becca snagged one of the balled sock pairs that had missed the bag and rolled to the floor.

Home. Well, where I grew up, anyway. I have to go take care of Fletchers services and my moms house.

Your moms house? Becca stepped further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. What are you going to do?

Braxton sat beside her with a heavy sigh. Honestly, I dont know. I spoke with my mms attorney yesterday, and she said that it was likely Mom will be spending ten to fifteen in prison. Braxtons head fell, shoulders slumped. God, this sucks.

Becca placed her arm around Braxtons shoulders, gently tugging until the blonde head rested against her shoulder. Im sorry you have to go through this.

Braxton sighed, comfortable in the warmth and comfort of Beccas presence. Not your fault, she murmured.

How far away is Ivanwood?

About five hour drive.

You going alone?

Braxton lifted her head from Beccas shoulder, glaring up at the taller woman as she pushed off the bed. She whirled on Becca, hand on hip. What the hell is it with everyone today? Do you guys think Im an idiot? Do you see me as incapable of doing things for myself? Taking care of myself? Even the shocked look of confusion on Beccas face didnt dim the fire in Braxtons eyes. Do you?

Wait, Braxton. What did I do?

Why would you worry about me going home alone? You dont think I can do it? Is that it?

Wait, what, no! Of course not, Braxton! Becca stood, her anger bubbling. Is it wrong for me to worry about you? I have no doubt youre more than competent. I just wasnt sure if youd want to go alone. What you have to do there is difficult, and youve been through hell lately. She paused for a breath. Im not going to apologize for trying to be nice.

Braxtons anger fell, but she was still stung. Her emotions were so raw, she felt like she was on the worst PMS trip of her life. Everything seemed to hit her wrong. She turned away from Becca, flopping back down onto the bed. Jeez, Im a mess. Im sorry, Becca.

Its alright. Im not going to push, and Im going to leave you alone. If you dont want to go alone, Im free. If youd rather be by yourself, especially after being surrounded by a house full of crazy folks, who would blame you? With those quiet words, Becca left Braxton to her packing.

Braxton sighed heavily, flopping back on the mattress. I have got to get myself under control, she muttered, staring up at the ceiling. She thought about what she had to do still, and what she had to do when she got to Ivanwood. Her fathers oldest friend, a guy who used to double date with Fletcher and Margot back before anyone was married, had called Braxton two days ago. Fletchers body was being held on ice until someone came to claim him. Nothing had been arranged for his funeral services, which Braxton thought odd. Why hadnt his congregants done any of this?

A visit with Margots attorney had told Braxton what she had dreaded, and that was that her mother wouldnt be living in that house in Ivanwood any time soon. The fact that shed confessed and would plead guilty would certainly help her case, but the attorney had assured Braxton that Margot would still do time. Braxton was considering selling the old house, but there was a part of her that didnt want to give up on her mothers return; she would need somewhere to live once she got out. Braxton had to believe that she would get out.

Eyes focusing on the tiny little diamonds that sparkled on her ceiling in the form of old sound insulation popcorn. She mapped the route home, one she hadnt made in a long time, and truthfully, had no desire to make again. The only plus would be no browbeating, or any other such beating, from Fletcher this visit. Then she began to think about what she may find. What would she have to clean up at the house? What goes into planning a funeral?

Becca tossed a pair of panties to the bed on top of her flannel pants, then found a t-shirt. She was looking forward to a nice, relaxing bath. Those thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock on her door. She opened it, expecting to find Braxton on the other side. She was surprised to see Carrie standing in the hall.

Hey, she said, looking down at the small woman.

Hey. Can I come in? Carrie asked.

Sure. Becca stepped aside, allowing her roommate to enter. Carrie walked past her, looking around the room before stopping in the center of the small room, turning to face the taller woman. Whats up? she asked, jamming her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

Carrie swallowed her nerves down and walked over to Becca, having to look up due to their significant height difference. She didnt care. She loved how tall Becca was compared to her, and knew that the taller womans arms would make her feel warm and safe. Placing her hands on Beccas waist, she stepped slightly closer.

Becca was stunned stupid, unsure what to do or what Carries intentions were. All she could do was watch and wait.

You are so beautiful, Becca, Carrie said quietly, meeting the blue gaze directed down at her. I hope Im not wrong  I dont think I am.

Wrong about what? Becca began to feel a bit uncomfortable.

About you. Carries hands were on the move, roaming up over a flat stomach, and between Beccas breasts until they laced behind her neck, gently tugging.

Becca was too stunned to pull away until she felt the softness of Carries lips against her own. The kiss deepened as Carrie buried her fingers into thick hair. For just a moment Becca considered giving in and enjoying Carries body for an hour, but something stopped her. She started when she felt Carries tongue against her lips, wanting entrance, then the sound of a gasp from behind her, and then the soft click of a door closing.

Becca pulled away, turning to glance at her empty doorway. It was just Braxton. Come back here, Carrie said, trying to pull the taller woman back down to her. Never in her life had she been so turned on with just a simple kiss.

Wait, no. Becca put her hands on Carries shoulders, gently pushing her away. I cant do this with you, Carrie. She gathered her breath, letting it out in a quick puff. She looked down into Carries confused, aroused eyes. Listen, youre cute as hell, Carrie, but-

Im not Braxton, Carrie finished softly.

Beccas mouth opened to continue speaking, frozen in shock at what shed just heard. What?

Carrie sighed, stepping back just enough so Beccas hands dropped from her. I thought there may be a shot, since I dont think Brax is gay, but, she shrugged. Guess not. Everyone can see the two of you have connected, and Ive seen how you look at her. Shes hot. Cant say as I blame you.

Becca could only stare. What the hell are you talking about, Carrie? She was completely baffled.

Oh, come on, Becca! Carrie laughed. You cant take your eyes off her! Its okay. Im not mad or anything. Just be careful. Braxton doesnt have the greatest luck with relationships. You might get hurt.

Id really would appreciate it if youd just go, okay? Becca said, biting down her temper.

Okay. Carrie headed toward the door, stopping at the threshold and turning back to Becca. Im sorry, Becca. I like you as a person, too, so I hope this lapse in judgment doesnt hurt our friendship.

Becca could appreciate the words and situation, so nodded.

Dont worry about it, Carrie. Were fine. She gave the short woman a smile, which quickly faded as Carrie hurried away, her footfalls muffled in the carpeting as she headed down the stairs. Shit. Becca ran her hands through her hair, gathering the long strands at the nape of her neck before letting them go. She glanced over at the wall that separated her bedroom Braxtons. Shit, shit, shit!

Braxton felt numb for some reason. She knew it was her way of blocking out sudden anger that was not logical. She could still see Carries fingers in Beccas hair, the taller woman bent down. She could still see the kiss they were engaged in when shed wandered to Beccas open bedroom doorway.

Stop it! she hissed at herself, shaking the vision from her head. It was none of her business, Becca and Carrie were able to fuck like rabbits, if they so desired. Guess Carrie got the answer to her question, she muttered, pulling back the covers on her bed. She had decided to head out early, so wanted to get to bed early. She stopped at the knock on her door.

Becca stood on the other side, looking unsure and almost contrite. Hey, she said, softly. Can I come in?

Braxton nodded, her stomach roiling slightly with sudden nervous energy. She couldnt explain her reaction to witnessing the kiss, and really didnt want to think about it, but standing before her was one of the participants, thus putting the kiss right back into the spotlight of her mind.

Becca wasnt sure what to say, or why she felt the need to say anything at all. She didnt owe Braxton anything, certainly not an explanation. Yet, she was bothered by something. Hell, it wasnt even as though as if Braxton had seemed upset! Why was she bothering?

Im sorry about what you saw, me and Carrie.

Why are you sorry? Youre a big girl, and so is Carrie. She told me she was interested in you, so congratulations to her in getting her girl.

She didnt get her girl, Becca clarified. I told her no.

Braxton turned away, for some reason relieved. Why? Shes cute, right? Standing further away, and safer, Braxton once again faced the taller woman.

Yeah, I guess so. Shes just not my type.

I see. Braxton could feel a tension in the air that she just couldnt explain or understand. Her nerves were nearly making her nauseous, now.

Becca felt a nearly unstoppable need to rush over to Braxton and kiss her like shed never been kissed before. The need was so strong, it nearly took her breath away. Instead, she shoved her hands into her pockets and shrugged. It doesnt matter. Im not looking for anything right now.

Braxton nodded, fingering the handle of her canvas duffel that sat on the armchair. Oh.

Well, um, Becca looked around, feeling nervous and uncertain, and definitely needing to get some space between herself and Braxton, she headed to the door. Good night, Braxton.

Night.

Becca took hold of the door knob, ready to turn it when she thought of something. Hey, did you need something? When you came to my room earlier?

Braxton thought for a moment, taken off guard. Then it hit her. Yeah. Uh, she looked a little sheepish. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me. To Ivanwood.

Shit! This isnt getting away from her! Sure. She smiled. What time?

I was thinking Id leave around six-thirty, seven. Maybe get some doughnuts on the way out of town. Good coffee. Sound good? Braxton tried to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice, but failed totally.

Sounds great. Ill see you in the morning. And with that, Becca left the room, closing the door behind her.

Part 16

Damn, these are good, Braxton said contentedly around a mouthful of doughnut, fresh from the bakery that was just around the corner from the house. Becca nodded in agreement, her mouth too full of cream-filled Long John to reply verbally. Pick some music for us, Becca. The CDs are in a case at your feet.

Okay. Becca wiped her mouth on the cheap paper napkin theyd grabbed, licking bits of chocolate out of the corners of her mouth. What do you like? she asked, grabbing the square, hard plastic CD pouch. She plopped it on her lap and unsnapped it.

Well, Braxton grinned, if its in there, then I like it. Hopefully youll like it. She shot a grin over at Becca who returned it.

Eh, Im easy.

Braxton snorted.

Yes, yes. As evidenced last night. My secret is out. Becca sent a wicked look over at Braxton, which the blonde promptly laughed at. It felt good to break the tension wide open on that particular scene.

Soon, Bob Segers Roll Me Away began. Ohh, good choice, Braxton complimented, her fingers tapping the beat on the steering wheel as she grabbed for another doughnut. These things are my weakness.

Becca grinned, having her fill of the sweet pastries. For now. Instead, she sat back and got comfortable, sipping her large coffee, enjoying the morning. She thought back to her days traveling and living in New York; she was typically just getting to bed at  she glanced at the dash clock in the old sedan  seven ten in the morning. Now, she was wide awake and happy. The scenery flew by as the sun rose, spreading its golden fingers across the city.

As if reading the taller womans mind, Braxton commented, Beautiful morning. Going to be a nice day.

Yes it is. I remember when I lived in Venice for a short time. Id always get up, or come home, around this time. Id wait to go to bed until I watched the sun come up, the colors bursting across the water. It was amazing.

You lived in Italy? Braxton asked, wonder in her voice. At Beccas nod, she blew out a breath. Damn. And here I thought I was hot stuff for getting out of Ivanwood. They shared a smile. Would you tell me about your travels sometime?

Sure. Just let me know. She sipped her coffee, fingers tapping on her thigh at Segers Youll Acompny Me. Why Bob Seger?

Probably for the same reason that most girls like Bob Seger. Watching Tom Cruise slide onto the scene in his tightey whiteys.

Old Time Rock & Roll, Becca guessed.

You got it.

Well, for me it was more of a Rebecca De Mornay thing. Cant say ol Tom did much for me, Becca laughed.

How old were you when you knew you were gay? Braxton asked, glancing over her shoulder to check for traffic as she made a quick lane change.

I had my suspicions pretty early on, just didnt exactly know what it was called, or that it was even possible. And, growing up with four brothers, I used to hear them talking about this crush or that girlfriend, and I thought that maybe I was just following their lead, you know? I didnt truly know until I had left home and was out on my own. No influences.

Except for a world for gorgeous women?

Yeah. Pretty much.

Braxton chuckled, but felt that strange sense of jealousy run through her again. She chewed on her bottom lip, concentrating on the road ahead, not wanting to think about just how many women Becca had been with. Undoubtedly it was a lot.

What about you? How many boyfriends have you had?

Braxton burst into laughter. Oh, no. Trust me, you dont want to know. She glanced over at a grinning Becca, who turned in her seat enough to be able to fully take in the blonde.

Oh, I dont know. Youve got me intrigued now. Tell me your secrets, Braxton.

Ohhhh, there arent all that many to tell. Thats the problem.

When it seemed Braxton wasnt going to elaborate, Becca grabbed the white bakery bag, shaking its contents. What if I give you the bear claw?

Braxton giggled. You must wanna know pretty bad. You ordered that for yourself.

And what if I do? Becca challenged.

What you got to offer other than a bear claw? Braxton chanced a quick glance over at her passenger, a honey-colored brow raised.

What do you want? Becca asked, her voice dropping, something dangerous about it.

Braxton suddenly felt very uncomfortable, her heart fluttering. You can keep your bear claw. Its not a big enough secret for that. Ill just tell you. She flashed a big smile, their game was over.

Feeling somewhat disappointed, as she wanted to know how far Braxton was willing to go in their game, but relived for the exact same reason, Becca pressed on. Okay, so spill it.

Braxton sighed, dreading this very short conversation. Ive only had one boyfriend of any sort of seriousness. Only slept with one, too. Back home, before Jared and I left Ivanwood, I dated a couple guys in high school, but were talking like three dates here, maybe ten there, you know? Nothing major. I think I only kissed one of them.

So, why then did you sleep with the one guy? Am I to assume that was Anthony?

Andrew, yes.

Becca studied Braxtons profile, and could easily see the pain even from that angle. She reached out and turned the music down. Tell me about him.

Braxton sighed, reaching for her bottle of chocolate milk, taking a sip before beginning her tale. We met pretty much right off the bat. I was a wide-eyed Freshman, and he was a cute, experienced Sophomore. I agreed to go out with him, totally flattered by the attention, you know?

All too well.

So, we started dating, and at first he was good. A gentlemen. Then, not so much, and I gave in.

A sadly typical story. Becca finished her coffee then tossed the cup into the plastic bag Braxton had in her car for trash. Do you regret it? Giving that to him?

Braxton shrugged. Yes and no. I mean, it wouldve happened at some point, anyway. Did Andrew deserve to get that from me? Hell, no. But, nothing I can do about it now anyway, you know? she glanced over at her companion. Do you have regrets? About your first time.

Yes, but mainly because I dont remember it. I was stoned out of my mind, in some rat hole in Harlem. She grinned at the grimace on Braxtons face. Yeah, not real great. But, Becca blew out, like you said. Nothing I can do about it now, so it is what it is, and its a part of my past.

So, you never had sex with a guy? Braxton asked, setting the cruise control as they were on the straight and narrow for awhile. She sat back in her seat, one hand casually holding the wheel steady.

Almost. We messed around one day when my mom had a long conference to go to. Becca scrunched up her nose. When it came down to him actually doing anything that resembled penetration, I made him go home. She grinned.

Braxtons brows drew. Okay, sorry to sound like an idiot, but if you havent had sex with a guy, how do you know you dont like it?

Have you had sex with a goat?

Braxtons head whipped around to face Beccas amused expression. What? Of course not!

And there lies your answer, my friend.

***

The town of Ivanwood, Colorado was a small, somewhat mountainous place. With a population of no more than twenty thousand, there was a definite everyone knows everyone mentality. That had been one thing Braxton had hated most about her hometown. It wasnt like she was a bad kid and had anything to hide growing up, but she did want people to respect her privacy, something that was in short supply in Small Town America.

She hadnt been back since her very short visit the Christmas, nearly a year ago. Everything looked the same as it had the day shed driven away in her Orange Bomb for college.

The town was dissected by a long, main street that connected to the Interstate. On one side of the main street, called 112th Avenue, though no one knew why, as there wasnt 111th nor 113th Avenues, was called the South Side, the other the North. Most of the folks in the farmers lived on the South side, which included the Crowleys. The North Side was kept for those who actually had more than two pennies to rub together, though most of the country would refer to them as lower-middle class. In Ivanwood, they ruled the roost.

Becca watched the scenery go by, thinking it didnt look a whole lot different than her own hometown, though where she came from was larger, and actually had three and four-story buildings, unlike the mostly singles in Ivanwood, with maybe a two-story or two thrown in. The town was quiet, only a small amount of traffic flowing around them. She noticed the sidewalks were basically bare, but then, at noon on a Sunday, she figured most folks were probably in church, or after church gatherings.

This building right here, Braxton said, pointing to a single story, spread out brick building, is where I went to high school with Jared.

Was there ever anything between you two? Becca asked suddenly.

Braxton shook her head. No, she said softly. He wanted there to be. It caused us problems for a short time during our Freshman year of college. She sighed with a shrug. Sometimes Ive wondered if that was one reason why I agreed to go out with Andrew. And sleep with him. Braxton sighed, never wanting to admit that to herself, let alone anyone else.

A few minutes later, Braxton pulled the sedan into the driveway of a small, yellow house. The front yard was covered in dying grass, a few bushes littered the path up to the brown front door.

Is this where you grew up? Becca asked, pushing her door open, glad to finally stand and stretch. Her back, legs and arms were grateful.

Yep. I lived here for seventeen years, ten months and three days. She gathered their trash and popped the trunk, allowing them to gather their bags. Taking a deep breath, Braxton headed up the walk, her gaze moving toward the kitchen window, trying not to think about what that man found when he came looking for his minister. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to slip the key into the deadbolt.

Here, Becca said gently, laying her hand over the blondes. Let me. Braxton stepped back, allowing Becca to let them into the house. Their gazes met. You ready for this?

Braxton nodded. Yeah. I think so.

The house was exactly as Braxton remembered, even down to her mothers shawl draped over the back of the couch. If she didnt know better she would think shed find her father tucked out in the backyard reading his bible, and her mother in the kitchen, either cooking or cleaning up from the cooking shed just done.

Its so quiet, she murmured, almost to herself. She dropped her duffel bag in the living room and headed for the kitchen.

Wait, Becca said, a hand on Braxtons arm. When she had the blondes attention, Are you sure you want to go in there? I seriously doubt its been cleaned up.

Im sure it hasnt. I can smell his blood in the air, Braxton said, gently tugging her arm away and continuing on her way. She could feel Becca behind her. The kitchen doorway loomed ahead, the rest of the room opening as they got closer. Braxtons gaze was immediately drawn to the linoleum floor. A deep, dark stain had settled into the textured surface, most of it smeared away, though the lines in the pattern of the linoleum were outlined in reddish brown.

Jesus, Becca whispered. She could only imagine just how much blood had actually been there after the incident. As it was, there was enough of a stain to nearly cover half of a full grown mans body. She could imagine Fletcher Crowley lying there, bleeding to death. She shivered involuntarily, trying to imagine what had brought a woman like Margot Crowley to not only do something like that, but to leave him there to die.

Braxton said nothing as she moved further into the room, her eyes riveted to the spot where the menace of her whole life had lost his. I wonder what he thinks of his god now, she said quietly, almost a reverent whisper in the stillness of the room, now that hes frying in Hell.

Becca glanced up at the blonde over the space that would have been her fathers body. She said nothing, as she had nothing to say. This was something Braxton had to deal with on her own, no matter how much Becca might want to take that pain away.

Braxton turned away from the stain, her nose twitching at the smell of death in the air. Shed have to clean that up before it brought bugs, if it hadnt already. She looked around the room, noting, just as Margot had said, everything was in order and perfect. It was so eerie imagining the scene the cops must have found. How strange and cold. She noticed that certain things were missing, such as one of the dish rags that usually was dragged on the hump between the two sinks. She figured the cops must have bagged that. Maybe it had blood n it.

I wonder where the chalk outline is, Becca said, amusement in her voice. At her companions questioning look she explained. Well, on all those cop shows, they always draw an outline around the body.

Braxton chuckled. This aint no movie, lady.

No, suppose not. She let out a heavy breath, trying to rid herself of her own heebie jeebies. Okay. Whats the plan?

Well, Im going to clean this up, then I intend to pack up everything. All their personal stuff, you know, clothing, that kind of stuff.

Are you going to keep it? Donate it?

Braxton met Beccas gaze. Burn it.

***

Becca came back into the room, the box of black, plastic yard bags in her hands. Figured Id just bring the whole thing this time. No sense in running back and forth with it. She sat back down on the bedroom floor next to Braxton, who she wasnt even sure had heard her. The blonde was intently going through her mothers jewelry box.

I didnt even notice she wasnt wearing her wedding ring when she got to the house, she muttered absently, holding up a simple gold band, the metal barely gleaming in the light. Pretty shitty gold, she muttered, noting the dull shine. As much as Moms hands were in water all the time, this puppy should shine like a torch.

Yeah. Looks like bad quality, for sure. Becca looked at the stacked piles of plastic bags, filled with both Crowleys clothing. Are you sure you want to burn this stuff, Braxton?

Yes. Very. Nothing but bad memories in all that. I dont want someone else to be affected by that because they buy a shirt from Goodwill for ten cents.

Becca said nothing, just continued to do as asked.

The sun was steadily going down, burning the horizon. The two roommates stood in the backyard of the old house, a large, metal trash bin in front of them, chasing away the cold air. Braxtons gaze was focused on the burning pile before her, the flames licking eerie shadows across her eyes and face. Beccas gaze was on her. Braxton could feel the weight of her stare.

I really appreciate you coming with me today, Becca, she said softly, her eyes never leaving the flames. It means a lot to me. I know I wasnt the easiest to deal with today, either. I really wasnt sure what Id feel, going through all that stuff. Seeing it all. She sighed, finally meeting Beccas gaze. Theres still so much to do tomorrow, but Im glad we got all this done, she gestured toward the burning clothing.

Becca said nothing as Braxton turned to her, wrapping her arms around the taller womans neck and silently asking to be held. Becca obliged, She wrapped Braxton up in a tender hug, tucking the shorter womans head under her chin. She could feel the chill in the smaller body, pressed to her own, despite the warming fire they stood next to.

Braxton snuggled in further, craving the heat she felt emanating from Beccas body. She found her face buried in her neck, inhaling the clean scent that shed learned to associate with the taller woman. It filled her lungs and made her feel safe. A wave of warmth ran through her, making her sigh against the warm skin. She was surprised to feel an corresponding shiver run through Becca. Braxtons heart accelerated, a need building deep within her that she didnt understand as her mind shut down, instinct taking over. She was tired of being alone, feeling so alone, and Becca made her feel cared for and safe. Safe. She needed safe.

Beccas eyes closed, a sigh escaping as she felt soft lips on her neck, moving a slow trail up to her jaw. Her arms around Braxton tightened, fingers clenching and unclenching, almost like the kneading of a cat. Her body had been put on a slow boil, though the heat was rising.

Braxtons mouth was taken in a sudden hard kiss, Becca demanding, her mouth unforgiving. Braxton met her passion with her own, grabbing handfuls of Beccas jacket, pulling the taller body closer into her own.

***

Braxton was trembling with need Becca got the motel room door open. She flat refused to sleep or do anything else in her childhood home. Too many ghosts. They stumbled into the room, and immediately Becca had her mouth again, and the blonde found herself pushed backwards until she fell on the one bed. She pulled Becca with her, the taller womans body covering her own. She barely registered the sound of the door slamming shut from Beccas violent kick.

Becca was on overload, never wanting someone so bad in her entire life. She reached down, unzipping Braxtons jacket and roughly pushing the ends aside until her hand covered a t-shirt covered breast. She moaned in response of the guttural groan that filled Braxtons throat. She thrust her leg between the blondes, pushing their bodies together.

Braxton broke the kiss, her eyes shutting as pleasure swept through her. She reached down, clutching at Beccas ass, pulling her deeper inside. Unable to wait, as she was on the verge of release, she thrust her hips up into Becca, who caught on quickly. Soon their breathing was heavy and thick, the springs in the bed squeaking with ever thrust and counterthrust. Braxton could feel Beccas hot breath against her neck as the taller woman whimpered against her skin, her release close.

Oh, Brax, Becca groaned, her hips thrusting once, twice, then she ground herself into the smaller woman, who cried out beneath her, claw-like fingers digging into the denim covering Beccas ass.

Braxton exploded, her body, her emotions, her very mind. She couldnt stop the sobs as they tore through her, riding a wave of confusion, anger, fear, arousal and grief. She felt like a child as her chin quivered and eyes squeezed shut. As Becca rolled off her, she curled up into a ball, unable to control her sobs.

Hey, Becca said, her immediate fear turning to regret. She should have controlled herself, should never have taken advantage of Braxtons fragile emotional state. Im sorry, she whispered, curling up behind the blonde and wrapping herself around her. God, Im so sorry.

Braxton couldnt speak, couldnt tell Becca that it wasnt her, wasnt what theyd just done that had her crying. Well, not totally, anyway. She had absolutely no explanation to give the taller woman as to why theyd just fucked in a random motel room in Ivanwood, Colorado. So, instead of words, she simply reached back, grabbing Beccas hand and tugged until she was fully in Beccas embrace.

Relieved, but still somewhat concerned, Becca held the crying woman, resting her cheek atop Braxtons shoulder, letting her cry it all out. Her body was still trembling, still reeling in aftershocks. She hadnt had sex since shed left prison, and she knew for a fact that even the women before doing her time that shed been with, that she thought she had cared for or even loved, had lacked in comparison to what shed just shared with Braxton. That thought rocked her world for a moment. Tossing the thought aside, she just held the blonde, almost needing to feel her close as much as Braxton apparently needed it.

***

She felt the crunching under her feet of what sounded like gravel. Dirt, maybe. The smell of pine trees filled the air around her, rich and clean. It was dark, the night pure in its seemingly infinite darkness. Even so, she didnt feel afraid. Somehow she knew she was safe, that the one person who personified that for her was near

Off to her left she heard the call of an owl, Whooo! Whooo! She followed the sound, noting that a lone figure stood, the moonlight leaving them in silhouette. A smile spread across her lips, the need to see her savior almost painfully deep. She hurried her steps, the stones crunching louder under foot. She wanted to call out, cry out for her savior, her guide, to turn to her, come to her, but she stopped, brows drawing.

I dont know your name, she whispered, panic seizing her insides. Whats your name? she called out. Still, the figure did not turn around or acknowledge her presence. Please! She ran, but it seemed that no matter how close she got, the figure got further away, even as she stood still. Please! Dont go!

Dont leave me! Braxton shot up, breathing heavily, eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. She was in a strange bed in a strange room.

Hey, Becca said, startled from her own dreams. She sat up next to the panting woman, placing an arm around her shoulders. Its okay, Braxton. Its okay. Im here. No ones going anywhere.

Braxton looked at Beccas gentle face, only a sliver of it could be seen from the slice of moonlight coming in through the closed drapes. She raised a hand, still feeling as though in a dream daze. She brushed her fingertips along Beccas jaw. Youre still here, she whispered, hand falling back to the comforter.

Becca nodded. Yeah. Im still here. Are you okay? Becca wanted so badly to hold her Braxton, lay her down and kiss her, make love to her, make it all go away. She didnt dare, a sense of dread in her gut where Braxton and her were concerned.

Okay. Yes. Im fine. Braxton scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. So tired.

Come on. Lie down. Becca gently pushed Braxton back to the mattress, once again curling herself around her. Sleep, Braxton. Ill stay here with you, she murmured, sleep already beckoning her.

Good, Braxton sighed, closing her eyes.

Part 17

Braxton felt weird. There was no other word for it. Weird. Shed woken up that morning to find her legs and arms in a tangled mess with Beccas, her head resting on a very soft breast. She had jerked up so fast, shed nearly fallen off the bed backwards. Though Beccas eyes had remained closed, Braxton had no delusions that shed actually remained asleep after such an abrupt parting.

Braxton had hurried off into the bathroom where shed showered and dressed, then had cooled her heels inside the small bathroom. What was she supposed to do? How could she face Becca?

Shit, she muttered, knowing she couldnt stay in there forever. She chewed on her lower lip, listening as she heard movement on the other side of the door in the room, then a knock.

Braxton? Are you okay? Becca asked softly.

Yeah. Be out in a minute. Braxton cursed the situation, then forced a smile onto her face and pulled the thin, wooden door open. Becca stood there in her panties and t-shirt, hair disheveled all over her head. For just a moment she wanted to reach up and run her fingers through it, but quickly shook that thought out of her head.

Becca stared down at her. You want to grab some breakfast before we start in again?

Yeah. Sure. Okay. Once again the forced smile.

Good. Okay. Becca gave her one of her own. Well, uh, if youre done

 she indicated the bathroom that Braxton was still standing in.

Oh! Right. Braxton quickly moved past the taller woman and into the room. She heard the bathroom door close softly behind her. Oh, this is bad, she murmured, throwing herself face down on the bed, nearly bouncing back off from the bad springs on the bed. Rolling to her back, she stared up at the water-marked ceiling. What do I do now? she asked the empty room.

Braxton? Becca called, her head peeking out of the bathroom door. She caught the blondes gaze from where Braxton lay on the bed. Sheepish, Becca grinned Um, I forgot to grab my duffel. Can you please bring it to me?

Sure. Braxton spied the bag next to one of the two chairs placed on either side of the round table under the window. She grabbed it, then took a deep breath, and headed toward the bathroom. Becca opened the door a little wider to accept it, which showed beautiful shoulders and a strong arm.

Thank, Becca said softly, meeting Braxtons eyes for a moment before she took the bag and closed the door again.

***

It doesnt mean youre gay.

Braxton looked up from her eggs Benedict, eyes wide. Huh?

Thats what youre worried about, isnt it? Becca asked, leaning slightly forward over the small table separating the two, her French toast, slathered with strawberries and whipped cream only half-eaten.

No, Braxton said, though the fact that she couldnt hold Beccas gaze said far more than her verbal cues.

Braxton? Will you look at me, please? Becca waited until the hesitant green eyes were focused on her. Youve been through a lot. I know your emotions have been all over the place, and youre trying to do this all on your own. I dont think its that far out of whack to think youd need a bit of human touch.

Braxton said nothing for a moment, caught up in a mixture of anger at Becca that shed think what happened between them meant so little to Braxton, and was merely human touch, and anger at herself because if she admitted that it meant more than that, shed actually have to think about what happened, and the thought of that scared her to death.

She opened her mouth, about to tell Becca that they should just forget it when someone walked up to their table. She looked up, recognizing Mrs. Martha Schmitts.

You poor, poor dear, the elderly librarian said, nearly pulling Braxton out of her chair as she insisted on hugging her. What you must think of your horrid mother! Hug. Its just awful! Squeeze. I told Harry that we should bring you dinner over at the house last night, but youd already gone by time we got there. Kiss. How are you holding up, honey?

Oh, uh, Im okay, Mrs. Schmitts. Thank you. Finally let go, Braxton sat down, nodding toward Becca. Becca, this is Martha Schmitts. She used to be one of my fathers congregants. Mrs. Schmitts, this is my friend and roommate, Becca Steiner.

Martha looked at the lovely girl sitting before her. You certainly dont look like a Jew, honey, she remarked, eyeing Beccas light brown hair, straight nose and blue, blue eyes.

Becca was stunned, unsure what to say, so she blinked a few times then turned to Braxton, who quickly intervened. Uh, thanks for stopping by, Mrs. Schmitts. Are you coming to my fathers services?

Oh, how lovely! Martha gushed. When?

I, uh

 Shit. Ill let Ron know down at the paper. Well make an announcement. Braxton smiled.

wonderful. Such a good girl, isnt she? Martha asked the little Jewish girl with the blue eyes.

Becca raised her brows with a smile in response. The smile slid off her face as she watched the portly woman waddle away, then rolled her eyes. Jesus, she muttered, turning back to her breakfast.

God, Im sorry, Braxton whispered, her face buried in her hands. She peeked at the older woman through her fingers, afraid of what shed see. Instead, she saw a look of amusement cross Beccas features. Welcome to Ivanwood.

Indeed.

***

Jared stepped out of his car, his eyes riveted to the front of the Crowley house. He had spent an endless amount of time there as a kid, and those memories swarmed for a brief moment. He started as the front door was open and yet another trash bag was heaved out to join its mates across the dead lawn. The tosser stopped, her blue eyes pinning Jared where he stood.

Hey, Becca called, doing her best to keep her voice even, even as her hand clenched into an involuntary fist. She knew how much Jared had hurt Braxton, and she was not okay with that.

Hi. Jared slammed his door shut, his own jaw muscles tensing as he made his way up the overgrown walk. Whats going on?

What does it look like, asshole? Braxton is clearing the place out. Trash gathering.

Jared nodded, noting the contents of one bag that had torn. He noted a slew of bibles, a few with the pages having worked loose during flight. He stepped inside the house, noting the cool air inside, and the fresh smells of autumn flowing through all the open windows. He remembered that the house had always been closed up, no matter what time of year. Fletcher hated the windows opened.

Youve got company, Becca said through the open door of the bedroom Braxton was in. The blonde, who had been going through the short filing cabinet, sorting through her mothers papers, stood, her back cracking from hours hunched over.

Who?

Me. Jared leaned in the doorway, his eyes taking in the disaster area that was Braxtons old room, that had apparently been turned into some sort of pseudo office in the interim of her college years.

What are you doing here? Braxton asked, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

I came to help. He glanced at Becca, who hadnt moved from her perch against the doorframe. Didnt realize you already had it.

Yeah, Becca came down with me. Braxton sent a look of challenge his way. Its not like you were there, Jared. She kept silent. No reason to start a fight, at least verbally, though from the look in Jareds eyes, she could tell hed picked up on her barb.

Alright. Well, guess youre all set then. Jared pushed away from the door, picking his way over stacks and piles of endless scraps of magazines, old newspapers, more bibles and random knick knacks, headed for the front door.

Braxton felt guilt wash through her, and she sighed. Damn it. She quickly made her way out of the room, breezing past Becca in her quest to reach Jared before he could leave.

Jared was digging in his pocket for his car keys when he heard his name called. He stopped and turned, watching as his friend hurried from the house, breathless from her near run. Wait, she breathed, finally reaching him. She caught her breath, then looked at him. Why are you here?

Why didnt you tell me you were coming back here? You shouldnt be doing this alone, Brax, he said gently.

Braxton felt anger fire up in her veins. Im not exactly alone now, am I?

I dont mean literally. I lived through all this with you, he said, gesturing toward the house at Braxtons back. I know what he was like, what he did to you and your mom. You should have called me. I wouldve dropped everything. Did drop everything, to come here for you.

She was incredulous. Are you serious? Jared, you havent even been back to the house for more than ten minutes at a time since we fought. And most of those times, Im in class. If you think Im going to hunt your ass down and ask anything of you, let alone something like this



But youd ask her? he said, voice angry.

Braxton kept her cool, understanding his jealousy, as she had felt it of late, herself. She asked, Jared. Simple as that. Shes been there for me through every step of the way. And, she said, holding up her hand to forestall whatever smart remark he looked like he was about to make, she knows what my mom is going through right now, as well as what her own family went through when it was her turn. Please dont be cruel. She paid her dues, Jared. You have no right to continue to crucify her. No one does.

Jared heard her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his cords. He kicked nervously at a sickly looking weed growing through the cracks of the walkway. He knew Braxton was right, and had felt bad about what hed said since hed said it. Stubborn pride hadnt allowed him to apologize to either Braxton or Becca, who he really didnt want to talk to, let along apologize to. He felt like he was losing Braxton, and it certainly felt like it was to Becca. This is hard, isnt it? he asked quietly, surprised hed even spoken the words aloud.

I think were growing up, Jar, Braxton said, just as quiet. She sighed, looking around at the neighborhood, seeing her and the cute blonde boy everywhere, on their bikes, on foot, always in trouble.

Yeah, guess so. He blew out a loud breath, then turned back to Braxton, an adorable smile in place. We had fun though, didnt we?

Braxton matched the grin, nodding. Yes. We sure did. She nearly ran into them when Jared opened his arms to her. She was immediately engulfed. Im not letting you go, Jared, she murmured against his chest. Youre my best friend.

Jared couldnt believe the amount of relief that flooded him. You, too. Im sorry.

Braxton nodded, accepting the apology. Me, too. She pulled away just enough to look up into his handsome face. You need to apologize to Becca, Jared. I think you really hurt her.

He sighed, but nodded. Okay. Youre right. He met her gaze pointedly. But only for you.

Braxton rolled her eyes, slapping him playfully on the chest. Big man. Come on. You can help us.

***

Becca wasnt sure what to think, what to feel. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was jealous as hell, which only made her angry at herself for the selfishness of it. The three of them sat in the middle of the living room floor, an open pizza box between them. Braxton and Jared were engrossed in old stories of the neighborhood, which Becca only absently smiled dutifully at. She sat away, her back resting against the sofa, a plastic cup of Coke balanced on her thigh.

She hadnt been sure how to take Jareds seemingly genuine apology earlier, but shed done her best to accept it graciously, if for no other reason than for Braxtons sake. It seemed to make her happy.

Becca knew her jealousies were childish and petty, but she couldnt help it. She hadnt had anyone she truly considered a friend since her high school days, and even then, her looks had kept most at bay. She had learned young that those who traipsed around her usually just wanted to act as a parasite on a beautiful fish. The modeling world, of course, was filled with parasites, and shed learned to take from them what she wanted. She hadnt felt an actual bond with anyone in many years like she felt with Braxton.

She chuckled at a story Jared was telling about a night filled with random egging around town, but soon Beccas gaze settled on the blonde, her eyes bright, smile radiant as she filled in the blanks Jared left in the story. She couldnt help but think about the night before, something they hadnt talked about all day, and she seriously doubt they ever would. It wasnt hard to bring back to mind the need and desire in those same green eyes that were fixed firmly on Jared at the moment. She could feel the warmth of Braxtons body beneath her own, even though two layers of clothing had separated their skin.

About to making a flushed fool of herself, Becca excused herself, heading into the kitchen with her paper plate and cup of warm, flat Coke. She trashed the plate and dumped the soda. With a heavy sigh, she looked out over the yard, watching as a few leaves, beginning to change colors, were tossed around in the merciless wind that had struck up. Soon, the leaves gave up their tenuous hold, and were blown across the yard. She understood their aimless voyage, unsure where theyd land, and if it would be a soft or hard drop. She felt the exact same way, drifting in a life that she had never foreseen as a kid.

You okay?

Becca turned, startled to see Braxton seeming to magically appear next to her, a warm hand resting at the center of the taller womans back. The warmth of Braxtons palm made Becca want to cry. It had been so long since shed experienced the tenderness that Braxton seemed to give so freely. Huh? she asked, distracted by the color of Braxtons eyes to remember what shed said.

I asked if you were okay. You looked lost there for a moment.

Becca nodded, a stiff smile on her lips. Yeah. Just got lost in thought for a moment there. Becca shook herself from her morose thoughts, rinsing the plastic cup from the tap. Listen, Braxton if you need me to go, want to do this alone with-

Hey, Braxton placed two fingers over Beccas lips. Stop, she said softly. I dont work that way. Just because one friend shows up doesnt mean that Im done with the first one. Okay? I asked you to be here because I wanted you to be here. Youre not a replacement for Jared.

Becca felt silly, like she was ten years old again, fighting over her neighborhood friends. Nodding, she met Braxtons gaze. Okay. I just thought after last night



Braxton bristled slightly, a pang of uncertainty flowing through her. That was

complicated. She blew out a breath then bravely met Beccas demanding gaze. And something we do need to discuss. Later. Okay?

Becca nodded. Okay. She matched Braxtons smile, the blonde turning to leave the room. Hey, she caught her arm to stop her. Im really glad you guys worked things out. Your whole lives is an awful long time to throw away a friendship.

Braxton studied Becca for a long moment, her head slightly cocked to the side as she measured the sincerity behind Beccas words. She could sense the tension and mental tug-of-war between Jared and the beautiful woman. Finally she decided that Becca meant it. Yes, it is. And thank you.

So, whats the plan now? Becca asked, her voice light to try and break the new tension of a heavy subject.

Jareds going to take another load to the dump, and Im going to start cleaning. Youre welcome to go with him, Braxton smirked, or you can stay and help clean.

Becca smiled, big, bright and beautiful. Wheres the Mr. Clean?

Jeez, how many plates of cookies do they think I can eat? Braxton asked an hour later, the front door closing after her third well-wisher, and third plate of baked goods. She put them on the kitchen counter next to the other covered dishes.

Becca had followed her into the kitchen, peeking over her shoulder. Ohhh, chocolate chip cookies.

Please, eat them. I cant eat another bite of anything, Braxton said, heading back to the bathroom where she had been scrubbing at the tub before the latest interruption.

Becca chuckled, stealing a cookie on her way back to her own bucket of hot, pine-scented water. Cookie clenched between her teeth, she continued scrubbing down the baseboards, which were layered with years of grime.

You now, my mother stayed at home her entire married life. What the hell did she do if not scrub this damn house?

Survive your father? Becca muttered, chewing happily on her treat. She heard the snort from the other room.

So, was your aunt always so scary? Braxton called out, her ass in the air as she leaned over the rim of the tub, using both hands to scrub. She didnt see Becca move to the doorway, stopping short and staring in appreciation.

My aunt is not scary, she growled.

Braxton yelped, nearly falling on her face in her haste to get to her feet. She turned on the taller woman, using her forearm to brush her bangs out of her eyes, only for them to fall right back into them. Yes she is. Shes huge. I think she could break me in half.

A burst of laugher escaped Becca. Yeah she could, if she heard you say that about her, anyway.

Which she wont. She saw Beccas smirk. Right?

Becca sighed, all dramatic. She looked at her paint-splattered hands. I dont know, Braxton. I mean, I came here, was immediately put to work. She wiggled her fingers. Got paint all over me

 Another heavy sigh. I just dont know if I can keep my mouth shut. Just dont think theres enough in it for me.

Braxton threw the sponge shed been using back into the tub. Becca, she said, voice a low warning.

Braxton



Braxton peeled first one rubber glove off, then the other, slowly advancing on her quarry. I know you dont want me to get killed, now do you?

Oh, come on, now. Arent we being just a little dramatic? Becca asked, holding her thumb and index finger an inch apart.

No. Your aunt could break me in half! Braxton stopped, right in front of the taller woman, who looked down at her with amusement.

Yes, she could. Weve established this, I think. She suddenly got a most mischievous urge. Raising a hand, she tapped the tip of Braxtons nose with one of her paint-covered fingertips. She tried to hide the smile, but it lit her eyes.

Braxtons eyes were nearly crossed as she tried to assess the damage. I cant believe you just did that, she breathed. Focusing back on her friend, she poked her in the chest. You got paint on me!

Yes, it seems I did. Becca grabbed the finger, smudging even more paint on Braxton. She leaned down toward her. What are you gonna do about it, Crowley?

Kick your ass, Steiner. Braxton pushed forward, her finger still held in the larger hand. Becca backed up slowly. Come on, little Jewish girl. Whatcha gonna do about it? Huh?

Becca grinned, then with a growl, she grabbed the petit woman, heaving her onto her shoulder, fireman-style. Braxton screeched, beating Beccas shapely ass with her palms. I think the question is, what are you gonna do about it? Becca panted, breathless from the excitement of their play and exertion. Braxton may be small, but she wasnt that small.

Put me down, you brute! Braxton laughed. She groaned and cried out as Becca began to turn in a quick circle, the room spinning. Im gonna puke!

Laughing, Becca decided to have mercy and stopped, but instead of putting Braxton down on her feet, she walked into the bedroom, tossing her like so many sack of potatoes, giggling as the blonde bounced on the bed, glaring up at her.

Beccas giggles turned to an oomph as she found herself lying facedown on the bed, Braxton on her back, enthusiastically tickling her. Their giggles were interrupted by Beccas plea for mercy, which would swiftly earn her more tickling.

Paybacks are a bitch! Braxton crowed, digging into the taller womans sides. Whoa! she cried, the body beneath her arching her back, Braxton tumbling down Beccas raised ass. She fell to the floor, causing more giggles. She looked up to see an upside down Jared standing in the doorway, looking at her with a raised brow. What? she asked, lacing her fingers over her stomach. Problem?

***

It took everything in Braxton to not growl every time someone came up to her and either hugged her, touched her, or told her how sorry they were. She smiled and retuned the affection, though she was about ready to go postal.

She had organized a service for Fletcher the day before, the local funeral home willing to donate the goods for their fallen son. Braxton wanted to roll her eyes, but instead thanked Mr. Homestead for his kindness.

Her fathers church was filled with murmured organ music, canned of course, the congregants filling less than half the available pews. She found it interesting that in one way the town of Ivanwood was willing to bend over backwards to help clean up the Crowley mess, yet the other half were now free to show their true feelings for their reverend. Braxton knew for certain that during any regular Sunday, the seats were all filled, the small church filled with voices raised before God. Where were they all now?

Were ready to begin when you are, Miss Crowley, the new pastor said quietly, his black suit just so, a large hand running down the front of the buttoned jacket, flattening the line.

Braxton smiled at him. Thank you. Go ahead and start. Ill be there in a few minutes.

Of course. With a small smile, filled with the appropriate amount of sorrow, the squirrelly man was gone.

Braxton walked over to the closed casket, her fathers remains tucked inside. A small spray of flowers had been placed atop its shiny top. Well, here we are, she said softly, running her hand along the polished surface. Never thought wed be here, Fletcher. Did you? No. Probably not. Im sure you thought youd be here forever, didnt you? Thought you could control your world till the end. She laughed ruefully. Guess you were wrong.

She walked over to the open front door of the church, noting the sedan parked at the curb. Becca sat behind the wheel, her head resting back against the headrest. She didnt feel it was her place to join the services. Jared had headed back the night before as he had an early class he couldnt miss.

She turned back to the casket, her heart cold, eyes dry. She felt nothing. Nothing. Reaching into the pocket of her slacks, she felt the hard object, warmed by her own body heat. Her mothers own wedding band was held between her fingers. She kissed it, then set it on the top of his casket, next to the flowers.

Youre control is finished. We leave you now, Fletcher. Enjoy eternity alone.

With those final words, Braxton walked out of the church.

Part 18

(NOTE: I made a booboo in part 17, where suddenly Becca went from cleaning with pine-scented cleaner to painting. It was a simple matter of my brain thinking one thing, and my fingers doing another. )

Becca mopped the last of the tiled surfaces in the shop, having already vacuumed and put all the equipment into the sterilizer that needed to be ready for use the following day. It was late and she was tired. It had been a long, busy day, which was unusual during the colder months. During the summers folks were dressed in next to nothing, and wanted to show off their body art. Fall and winter were a different story.

Barbara walked out of the back room, blowing out a long breath. She threw herself down on the couch, leg propped up on the arm and watched her niece. Becca had been quiet all day. Shed actually been quiet since shed come back from her adventure in Hick Town, Colorado.

As the tattoo artist studied Becca, she changed her mental description of her niece: withdrawn. That was a better word. Becca still smiled, still joked around, for the most part. But something was just

off.

Ya missed a spot, she said dryly, watching as Becca cleaned down the large front windows and door.

Beccas brows drew, her eyes narrowing at the glass. Where?

Barbara walked over to her, leaning in and poking her finger at the glass right in front of Beccas face, leaving a fingerprint smudge. There.

Cute. She used her Windex and paper towel, quickly wiping away the smudge.

Or, maybe it was here? Another fingerprint appeared about a foot above Beccas head. Barbara laughed outright at the glare she got. Lighten up, Rebecca, my god!

Becca did her best to not allow her smile to crack through the angry façade. Nooo, she wasnt happy about more cleaning, but she knew her aunt did it all in fun. I guess you mean business, she growled, increasing her glare.

Would I use your hated full name otherwise? Barbara asked, a dark brow raised, which put it in direct contrast with the bleached blonde hair on her head.

Yeah, actually, you would.

Yeah, youre right. She grabbed the paper towel and Windex from her nieces hands. Go get your stuff together. Youre coming over to my place for dinner and to talk.

Within fifteen minutes, the women had the shop locked up and they were on their way to Barbies house. She had bought a small, three bedroom house with a large, modern kitchen and huge, three-car garage that Barbara had turned into her workshop for her most beloved hobby: making dollhouses. Becca could remember when she was a very young child, before her aunt had been cut off from the family, sitting on a stool for hours, watching the painstaking care the older woman gave to creating her perfect miniatures.

Barbara pulled into the open garage in the far left slot, Beccas van pulling up behind her, the engine cutting in the driveway. The younger woman hurried under the slowly closing, buzzing garage door, then followed Barbie into the house through the small house door, which led to the kitchen.

Pop one of those frozen pizzas into the oven, Becca, Barbara called out over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs to her bedroom to change into comfy sweats.

Okay, Becca called back, doing as asked. Hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, she waited in the kitchen, watching the clock on the stovetop slowly tick away the cooking time. She didnt turn when she heard bare feet padding across the tiled floor.

Is it done yet? Barbie asked, grabbing herself a Pepsi from the fridge, and sliding one over Beccas shoulder. Didnt figure youd want a beer. She popped the top of the soda, taking a deep guzzle. Oh, thats good, she sighed with satisfaction.

Becca took her drink and sat on one of the padded barstools at the breakfast bar. She sipped the soda as her aunt move to stand directly in front of her on the opposite side of the counter. Becca could feel an intense gaze on her. What? she asked, somewhat defensively.

What what? Whats up with you?

Nothing. Why? Becca took a long sip, her eyes on her aunt the entire time.

Youve been so quiet and withdrawn since you got back from helping the cute little blonde out at her folks place. Why? Its been a week. Whats wrong?

Becca chewed on her lower lip, not sure what to say. She wasnt sure if she should talk to Barbara about it, or if it even warranted talking about. Finally, with a sigh she nodded, as though making some sort of internal decision. We slept together. Kinda.

Barbara was surprised, but she hid it well. What do you mean by kinda?

Well, it turned into basically primal rutting, fully clothed. Becca gave an adorable embarrassed lopsided grin. The grin faded quickly as memory dawned. Then she began to cry.

Oh, no, Barbie breathed. She leaned on her elbows on the counter, giving Becca her undivided attention. Why was she upset?

Becca shrugged, fingers playing with the red, white and blue can. We havent talked about it.

Barbara nodded, suddenly understanding her nieces behavior over the past week.

But, I think it was for a lot of reasons. I think a lot of it what has happened to her recently: the accident, then losing three months of her life. Everything with her mother, and then having to clean up the very blood of her dead father. Becca sighed. I actually feel like an asshole for going through with it, even if she did start it.

Barbara downed the rest of her drink, squeezing the can in her fingers, crushing it like so much paper. She shook her head. I think youre wrong. At Beccas look of confusion, Barbie continued. Well, first off, tell me this: when did this happen?

First night there.

Okay, and you were gone for what, three, four days? What was she like the rest of the time?

Fun, playful. Sometimes quiet. Becca shrugged again. A whole myriad of moods.

Alright. If you were the asshole, dont you think she would have avoided you? Asked you to leave? Where did she sleep?

Becca was sheepish as she answered. Usually in my arms. One night I woke up with her on top of me. Dead to the world.

Hardly someone whos upset with you, Barbara quipped as she checked on their pizza.

No. I dont know. I guess part of me just feels guilty. Shes been through so much, Aunt Barbie. I dont need to be adding to her problems.

Barbara was back at the counter again. Honey, I think youve helped her with the problems, not added to them. She brought you along for a reason. She initiated intimacy with you for a reason. She trusts you.

I really like her, B, Becca whispered, unable to meet her aunts gaze, which was good, because all she would have seen there was concern.

Honey, what would your AA sponsor say to this? If you were to get into a relationship with her.

That its not a good idea, Becca blew out. That I should wait. Hell, my parole officer would say the same goddamn thing. Becca felt the cool hand of her aunts covering her own.

Then maybe its for the best, Becca. Maybe right now just isnt the right time. Barbara met the tortured blue eyes that met her own for a moment before darting away. She knew her niece well enough to know when it was time to leave things well enough alone. She walked over to the oven when it beeped, signaling it was done. She turned it off, using a pot holder to bring out the cookie sheet the pizza had been cooking on. Setting it on top of the stove, her back still to Becca, she changed the subject. I got an email from Scotty yesterday.

Becca perked up, sliding off the stool to grab plates and napkins. Barbara dished out the pizza. What did he want? Do you hear from him often?

Barbara shrugged. Sometimes. I dont think James is aware that his son even knows how to contact me. She glanced at Becca. He was trying to get in touch with you.

Me? Becca was surprised. Why me? I havent talked with him since he was, what, maybe twelve?

Well, now hes pushing seventeen, and confused.

Becca felt a trickle of dread in her belly as she accepted her loaded plate and resumed her seat at the bar. About what?

Hes met someone. A boy.

What?! Aunt Barbie, hes only sixteen!

How old were you, Rebecca? Barbara asked, a brow raised.

Becca grinned, sheepish. That was different.

Oh? And why was that?

Because hes my nephew. Hes not supposed to be having sex. I changed his diaper, for crying out loud!

The older woman laughed heartily. Welcome to growing up, honey. It sucks. They both chuckled at Beccas look of fear. Anyway, he wanted to know if I knew how to get in touch with you. I told him to give me a few days. Wasnt sure what you wanted your brother to know, cause undoubtedly itll come out in the wash that Scott has spoken with you. Barbara took a bite of the steaming pizza. After a moment she continued. Honey, you really should consider going to see your parents.

The younger woman stiffened, her fingers dropping the piece of pizza shed been holding as her appetite left her. I cant B. You know that, she said quietly.

Of course you can. Theyre your family.

Becca glared up at her aunt. Never one for hypocrisy, she called her on it. Theyre your family, too, Aunt Barbara. You havent been back in what, fifteen years?

Barbara looked away, old hurts still stinging. Thats different, she muttered.

Why? What makes it different?

Because Allan is your father, Becca. A father has to love his daughter. Not his sister. She turned away, heading to the fridge to get herself another Pepsi.

Becca said nothing, as she knew there was nothing she could say that would make her aunt feel any better. What her family had done to Barbara was wrong, and now that Becca had faced the same isolation, she understood what the strong, stoic woman before her had gone through for more than half of Beccas life. Do you have Scotts email address?

I can do one better than that. Barbara left the kitchen, returning a moment later and tossing a torn piece of paper across the bar to Becca. He wants you to call him. He has his own cell phone.

***

Braxton zipped her backpack shut, about ready to head out for the day when she was stopped by the voice of her teacher, Lucille OBanion.

Braxton, I need to talk to you for a minute.

***

You soooo cheated! Lydia yelled, followed by Jareds evil laughter. I dont wanna play no more.

Jared laughed again at Lydias childish pout. She quickly joined him in laughter, and reset the video game. You should never play against a guy, Lydie. Its a universally known fact that youre gonna lose. Isnt that right? he called out to Braxton, who had just walked into the house. When he didnt get an response, he and Lydia exchanged a look. Lydia shrugged and Jared tossed his controller to the floor and hurried up the stairs after his friend.

Braxton tossed her backpack to the bed, her head foggy and dazed. She didnt even hear Jared walk into her room and softly close the door behind him. She was startled when he laid a hand on her shoulder.

You okay? he asked.

Braxton nodded, then blew out a long breath. Yeah. She couldnt keep the grin from her face, even as she felt the fear clench her heart. Dr. OBanion kept me after class today.

Okay. Jared sat on the edge of Braxtons bed, even as the blonde paced in front of him.

Shes recommended me for a slot at NYU. Theres an art program which combines a Bachelors and Masters. She said its an intensive program, but she feels very strongly that I can handle it. She ran a shaking hand through her hair. She told me shes never seen such natural talent before, Jared. She faced her friend, only staying still for a moment before continuing her unending journey. I mean, considering I just started in the department this semester.

Jared felt his excitement building even as Braxtons nerves did. God, thats fantastic! he gushed, jumping to his feet and grabbing his friend off the ground in a tight hug.

Whoa! Braxton laughed, her feet touching the ground again as Jared let her go. I dont know yet. I havent applied. I dont know if I wi-

Why not? I know that OBanion is one of the best, Brax. Youd be a fool to turn your back on a chance like this. And with that kind of encouragement! Shit! Do it, he said, impassioned.

Braxton studied him. You really think I should? she asked, voice small.

Yes. I do. Ill kick your ass if you dont. This could be a chance of a lifetime, Braxton.

Braxton moved away from him, blowing out another breath as yet again she ran her hands through her hair, which now stuck up all over the place. She knew that it was what she wanted, and would be so good for her. For some reason Beccas face appeared before her. Shaking the image away, she faced Jared again. I think Id be scared out of my mind, moving to New York.

Jared nodded. It would be crazy, thats for sure. But, I think youd do well there. I think it would be so good for you, Braxton. God knows you dont have anything here anymore.

I have you, Braxton said softly.

Jared smiled, walking over to her. Eh, I think going to NYU would definitely be a priority over me, woman. Besides, wed come visit you. Give me a chance to see New York. Jareds charming smile was firmly in place, even as his stomach fell. Hed never known his life without Braxton being in it. Even so, he knew this would be such a wonderful opportunity for Braxton. She needed to grow beyond the weight and shadow of her life. She deserved a chance to be happy and successful, something shed never find this close to home.

Braxton was thinking the same thing, but for Jared. She wondered how long it would take him to move out and in with Karen if she werent around. She wondered how long after that it would take him to finally propose. She knew he wanted to, but sensed he hadnt because of her.

Then there was Becca. It had been a week since theyd returned from Ivanwood, and eight days since theyd had sex. She had a hard time reconciling that in her mind. Was it sex? They were both fully dressed. Theyd kissed like mad, and Becca had even had her hand on Braxtons breast. Theyd both come. Braxtons eyes closed at the memory of how hard shed come, and Becca hadnt even touched an inch of bare skin.

A slight shiver went through her body as she tried to shove the feelings from her body. Clearing her throat, she turned a smiling face to her friend. I guess well just have to see what happens.

***

Braxton lay in bed, sleep far away. She tucked her hands behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling, allowing her thoughts to twist and turn in the winds of her emotions.

She hadnt said more than a handful of words to Becca since theyd come back, and the reality of their lives and roommate status had returned from the isolation of Ivanwood. Braxton hadnt allowed herself to think about that night, which hadnt happened again since. Shed allowed herself to draw from Beccas strength and warmth while in Ivanwood, as shed needed it, but now, back home, she had no excuse or reason now.

Sighing, she turned to her side, resting her arm along the curve of her body. She thought back to that night, and how her body had reacted so strongly to Beccas touch. It had been an overwhelming need to feel her, to kiss her, to be touched and kissed by her. Groaning, she turned to her back again. Shed never felt that way before. Granted, shed only had sex with one person, but even during her best nights with Andrew, full out naked, full out intercourse, shed never been as excited or ached so much to be touched.

Never before that had she been so frightened by it, either.

Braxtons thoughts were interrupted by footfalls on the stairs, which slowed in front of her closed door, then continued on to Beccas room. A sliver of light appeared underneath the door as the other bedroom was illuminated, then all went dark as the other door was closed.

Braxton felt her heart begin to pound. She hadnt seen Becca for two days; it seemed every time she came home from classes, Becca was still gone from work. When she left in the morning for classes, Becca was still asleep. Never the tween shall meet. Braxton was beginning to wonder if it was on purpose, as their schedules had never conflicted like that before

Well, before.

She listened, waiting for the music to start up, though it didnt. There was a thud, a second thud, then a quiet curse. Braxton had to make herself stay where she was, her impulse wanting to get up and go over to Beccas room and say hello. Catch up and find out how the taller womans week had been. There was only silence. Had she gone to bed?

Her curiosity getting the best of her, Braxton whipped her legs off the bed, her feet hitting the floor. She sat on the edge of her bed, listening. She didnt want to wake Becca, but she had truly missed her. She enjoyed her company, and was forever grateful for all that Becca had done at the Crowley house. Chewing on her lower lip in uncertainty, she pushed to her feet and crept to the wall that separated their rooms. Nothing. Pulling open her bedroom door, she saw light still crept underneath Beccas.

Braxton swallowed a couple times, then decided to go ahead and be neighborly. Her first knock was meant with an invitation to come in. Braxton pushed open the door just enough for her head to fit through. Becca was sitting on her bed, knees pulled and an open book balanced on her thighs. Becca met her gaze questioningly.

Hi, Braxton said, far more cheerful than she felt. Her heart was still pounding.

Hey. Come on in. Becca closed her book and tossed it aside, folding her legs in front of her.

Braxton did as she was asked, debating for a second on whether to close the door or leave it open. She opted to leave it. Walking over to the bed, she looked down at her roommate. How are you doing?

Im good. Been busy down at the shop, Becca said in a lame attempt to explain her absence, even though she wasnt one hundred percent sure Braxton hadnt coded her question with that one.

Yeah. School, too. Braxton glanced around the room, not sure what to say. Should she bring it up? Should they talk about it? She told Becca they would. She just wasnt entirely sure if this were the right time. Things felt so strained, and she hated that fact.

Braxton? Becca said, her voice quiet. When she had the blondes attention, she continued. How are you? After

everything.

Braxton shrugged. Okay. Im still kickin, so I guess thats a plus, right?

Becca nodded, smiling. Indeed.

Braxton sat on the edge of the bed. She glanced over, saw one of Beccas hands holding the wrist of the other in a casual pose. She had a mental image of one of those hands on her breast. She was left nearly breathless as her body responded. She looked away, forcing her thoughts back to the present. So, everything cool at the shop? she managed.

Becca nodded. She noticed a slight flush to the blondes cheeks. Her gaze moved to the strong column of Braxtons neck, watching her throat work as she swallowed a few times. She could imagine her mouth on that throat, her tongue running from Braxtons jaw down to the neckline of her shirt. Fuck! Yeah. She cleared her throat, her voice coming out hoarse and thick as her arousal built. No, no, no! It was easier before. Yes, she thought Braxton was beautiful, but before she didnt know what she felt like, tasted like, sounded like. Just busy.

Oh. Braxton said, though her throat was tight. Her fingers itched to reach out to Becca. She wanted to either move the oversized t-shirt she wore into place where it canted slightly off her shoulder, or she wanted to move it down further and explore the skin it would reveal.

Im going to visit my nephew, Becca blurted, feeling a desperate need to get her mind from where it so badly wanted to go. It was almost comical as Braxton blinked several times, her eyes meeting Beccas.

What? The spell had been broken. Braxton had heard the words, and knew the importance of them to Becca. Scoot and tell me about it. She waited until enough room had been made for her then got settled next to the taller woman, their shoulders touching..

Scott, hes my oldest brothers oldest kid. Hes sixteen, and apparently questioning his sexuality.

Braxton was shocked. Youre kidding? First your aunt, then you, and now your nephew? Maybe it is genetic. One in each generation for your family.

I know. He emailed my aunt, looking for me.

Why you? Why didnt he talk to Barbara?

Becca shrugged. Id guess because hes only met her once, and that was at my hearing. Becca sighed. She could feel Braxtons body heat, so hot. They were so close, but she couldnt allow herself to think about it. He left his number with her, and I talked to him for awhile last night. The kid is so confused.

About being gay?

Becca snorted, shaking her head. No. About what his dad will say. What his grandparents will say. She glanced at Becca. Its not like my family has a great track record of tolerance.

Im sorry, Becca, Braxton said softly, reaching over and placing a hand on the taller womans knee. The breach had been crossed, contact made. Both women felt the jolt, Braxton gasping softly at the electrical charge that crashed through her.

This is crazy, Becca mumbled, moving to crawl out of the bed when she was stopped by a hand on her arm. She stopped, a hand on her arm. Now on her knees in front of Braxton, she looked at the younger woman, nearly holding her breath.

Dont go, Becca, Braxton begged. She felt her heart pounding, almost painfully hard in her chest. She met the tortured blue eyes that were less than a foot away from her own.

I cant do this, Braxton, Becca whispered. I want you so fucking bad I could scream.

Braxtons heart stopped at the passionate words, her body erupting in need. She gasped as Becca took her face in her hands mere seconds before their lips met. The kiss was demanding, almost bruising. Braxton returned it, the room filled with their heavy breathing.

Becca pushed until Braxton was lying flat on the mattress, their mouths never breaking contact. She was on fire, her body demanding release. She could feel the heat coming from the woman beneath her, thin cotton the only barrier between their breasts. She needed to feel her, to see her. She could already smell her.

Braxtons head was spinning, her body and mind at war. She felt one of Beccas hands working its way under the waistband of her shorts, fierce heat beneath. She moaned as the hand caressed her lower belly before moving lower. The kiss deepening to a level of hunger that the blonde had never known. She could feel her body straining, her nipples painfully erect. Wetness flooded between her thighs, even as a voice inside her cried and struggled against the passionate onslaught.

Becca froze, her heart stopping for a moment when she felt Braxton stiffen as her hand cupped the blondes breast underneath the t-shirt. She broke the kiss to find Braxton already turning her head, their connection effectively broken.

Im sorry, Becca said, pushing roughly off the bed, her voice choked behind the hot need that nearly forced her to do the unthinkable. She was jittery, her blood nearly boiling inside from a dangerous cocktail of need, want and anger.

Im sorry, Becca, Braxton said, pushing sitting up and pulling her legs to her chest. I guess Im just not ready-

Dont sweat it, the taller woman said absently, slamming her bedroom door shut behind her as she escaped the confines of the small room.

Braxton felt the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. What was wrong with her? Her body still burned, desperate for Beccas touch. God, Im an idiot, she muttered to the empty room, right before a sob tore from her throat. She fall over onto her side, curling up as the tears came.

***

Becca hurried through the dark house. She was buzzing, crazing something, anything that could help her stop trembling. She palmed the keys shed grabbed from her dresser on the way out of her bedroom. She knew she had to get away from Braxton or her body would speak for her. She was wet and aching, the rejection burning hot in her heart.

Whoa! Carrie cried, nearly run over in the entryway of the house as she was coming in and Becca was heading out. You okay?

Becca looked at the small woman, her jaw muscles working. Without a word, she grabbed Carries hand, tugging the confused brunette behind her as she slipped out into the cold night.

Part 19

She closed her eyes, the hot mouth burning her skin as it trailed over her shoulder, a hot tongue flickering over a rigid nipple. She gasped, back arching into the touch. She buried her fingers in long, dark hair, pressing on the back of her head, needing more, wanting more.

Oh, yes

 she purred, sensation rushing through her body, lava gathering between her thighs. She craved the fullness as the fingers stroked her inside and out, her body a tightly strung instrument. She felt herself explode, sending stars falling behind her eyes

Braxton gasped, her hips arching off the bed, fingers clawing at the bedding beneath her. Her eyes opened as her body continued to pulse, heart beginning to slow. Jesus, she whispered, running her hands over her sweat-slicked face.

Looking around, she was disoriented for a moment, then realized she was still in Beccas room, in her bed. The room was empty, the light still blazing overhead. She took a shuddering breath then moved off the bed and towards her own room, snapping off the light and closing the door.

***

Carrie whimpered as she was pushed to the edge with one more thrust, her head nearly pounding into the wall behind her. She came with a huge cry, her entire body nearly bucking off the tabletop.

Becca panted over her, her own body crackling with the joy of release, though this joy was empty. Purely physical. Her heart was far, far away. She quickly pushed herself away from the petit woman, disgusted with herself as she grabbed her jeans and tugged them on.

That was so good, Carrie panted, pushing up to her elbows. She looked at Becca, whose back was presented to her. What brought that on? When Becca still didnt answer, Carrie sat up, running a hand through her shaggy hair. You okay?

Yeah. Im fine. Becca said coolly. She tugged her shirt over her head. Come on. Lets go.

Carrie slid off the table, her former bliss turning to dread. She quickly dressed, watching as Becca headed out into the main room of the tattoo shop, leaving her to get herself together in one of the back tattoo rooms.

Becca wanted to leave. She stared out the glass in the door, and wanted nothing more than to run out into the night, howling at the moon. Instead, she stayed where she was, waiting for Carrie to join her so she could drop off the brunette at home, and then go prowling into the night. Or maybe she should just go to bed.

Im ready, Carrie said quietly, stepping up behind Becca, but stopping just before she actually made contact with her. She sensed it would not be a good idea. When Becca said nothing, nor made any move to go, Carrie sighed. Im not the one you really wanted to fuck tonight, am I?

Becca wasnt entirely surprised by the words, but she did have a question. Knowing that, why did you let me? She turned and met Carries dark eyes over her shoulder.

I guess because I wanted you to. She shrugged, hugging her jacket around herself.

Look, Carrie, I dont want this to interfere-

We fucked, Becca. You didnt promise me marriage.

Becca nodded her approval. Lets go, then.

***

Braxton sat in the armchair, her head leaning against the window, staring out into the night. She watched the street, only a car passing now and then. All in all, it was quiet. A pair of headlights emerged from the shadows, followed by Beccas van. She watched it pull up to the curb, then stop with the squeal of squeaky breaks.

Relief washed over her until she saw the passenger door open, and Carrie hop out. She leaned into the window of the closed door, obviously exchanging words with Becca before she turned away from the van, just as it pulled away from the curb, and back out into the night. Braxton watched it go, somewhere in the distance hearing the front door open then close, locks engaged.

Braxton felt a near rage wash over her at the thought of Carrie laying one hand on Becca. Her heart broke at the thought of Becca touching Carrie.

***

Slowly green eyes opened, Braxton not sure what woke her. As reality gathered around her, she felt the soft touch against her face. Blinking a few times, she turned onto her back, looking up at Becca, who sat on the edge of her bed.

Hey, she said, leaning slightly into the touch.

Sorry to wake you, Becca whispered, not wanting to shatter the pre-dawn quiet.

Whats the matter? You look like you havent slept. What time is it? Braxton got more comfortable, catching the fingers that fell from her face, and holding them in her own against her upper chest.

Its late. Or early, I guess. Depending. Im okay, just couldnt sleep. Drove around for awhile. She sighed, her body feeling heavy and tired. I need to talk to you about something.

Okay. Here, lay down. Through Braxton knew it was dangerous, she scooted over, making room. She heard Becca slip off her shoes, then she climbed under the covers. Braxton immediately moved into her arms, resting her head on Beccas shoulder. Im sorry about earlier, Becca. I just

 Her voice trailed off, not sure what to say.

I know. Its okay. Becca placed a soft kiss on Braxtons forehead. Thats kind of what I want to talk to you about. Ive decided to leave, Braxton.

Braxton went to raise her head, but it was kept against Beccas shoulder with a gentle hand. She snuggled in closer, though she felt chips of ice begin to float in her blood. Why?

A few reasons. She began to comb her fingers through Braxtons hair. Talking to y nephew, it made me realize how much I miss my family. I havent seen any of them in over four years. Almost five. She got silent for a moment as she remembered all of their faces, her brothers and her parents. She remembered her mother crying as Becca had been led out of the courtroom.

Im sure theyll be happy to have you back, Becca, Braxton said softly, her heart breaking.

Theres another reason for me to go, Becca said at length, unsure if she should say it or not. She decided Braxton deserved to hear the truth. I think its best I get away from you. This time she couldnt keep the blonde against her.

Braxton sat up, looking down at the prone woman. What?

Becca sat up and faced her. Braxton, I cant keep my hands off you. Or my mind. Or certain body parts, she explained. Im not ready for this, and I really dont think you are, either. If you want anything. Me. She watched her hands as they played with the blanket that was around her waist. I cant have any complications in my life right now. She spared a glance at the blonde, who looked terribly hurt. Becca looked away, glad to take the blame upon herself. I think its best.

Braxton wasnt sure what to say, wasnt sure what to feel. She knew her hurt was ridiculous, as even she knew she wasnt ready for anything with Becca. Hell, she could barely even get through a single groping session without freaking out. Then there was NYU. Im sure youre right, she said after awhile, her voice tired and defeated. I was asked by one of my professors to join a program to further my education. She met Beccas gaze. Its in New York.

Becca felt the breath leave her body, but she covered it with a smile. Thats great, Braxton. Im proud of you. I know youll be successful in whatever you do. She swallowed. Hard. When would you leave?

December. Its a three year program.

Becca nodded. Its for the best, then, she whispered. Looking into Braxtons eyes, she couldnt help but feel like she was looking at her future, which was ridiculous. She didnt know Braxton well enough to feel that way. She wasnt even convinced the blonde could ever love her in the way she needed her to.

When are you leaving?

Becca blew out a breath and began to move toward the edge of the bed. Soon. Very soon. Im paid up for the next two months here, so you guys will be fine.

Im not worried about the rent, Becca. Im worried about you. God, Ill miss you.

Becca smiled, reaching over and was about to caress the side of Braxtons face, but let her hand drop. Ill miss you, too. I really do think its best.

Braxton sighed heavily, nodding. Im sure youre right. Her head agreed, but her heart was crying out, No! She panicked when Becca started to stand. Dont leave! She immediately felt silly from the desperation in her voice. Becca stopped and looked down at her. At least not tonight. Please?

Unable to resist the blonde, Becca nodded solemnly, feeling almost as though shed just agreed to execution rather than imprisonment. She lay back down, taking Braxton in her arms.

Braxton was always amazed at how well her body fit with Beccas, and how soft the taller woman was. How wonderful she smelled. She buried her face in the warm skin of her neck and inhaled, taking it all in, one last time. You smell so good, she whispered.

Beccas eyes closed, her lips clamping down on a sigh. She could feel Braxton nuzzling her neck, which set her heart pounding again. God, not again

Braxton, she breathed, gasping when she felt a kiss placed at the hollow of her throat.

I dont want you to go, Braxton said against the skin of Beccas neck. Dont go tonight. Im going to miss you. She moved on top of Becca, hugging her tightly around the neck. She was feeling the loss already, and it hit her in the soul. She felt Beccas arms wrap around her and they held each other.

Becca didnt dare move, almost didnt breathe. She was afraid that Braxton would disappear if she did. She could feel Braxtons body all along her length; there wasnt one part of them that wasnt touching. She ran her hands all over the blondes back in large, soothing circles.

Am I too heavy? Braxton murmured against Beccas neck.

Becca shook her head with a sigh. No. I like you here. Youre so warm and soft. Why couldnt I meet you five years from now? Becca felt Braxton move, and found herself suddenly looking into the blondes face. She reached up, brushing blonde strands out of her eyes. She felt such a connection to Braxton, and had since the moment theyd met.

Braxton rested her weight on an elbow, her other hand free to wander and feel. She used her fingertips to trace Beccas features. She was so beautiful, and had to tell the taller woman such. Ive never seen anyone so striking, she whispered, looking into the blue eyes, turned nearly translucent in the darkness.

Becca couldnt speak. She felt like what a cat or dog must feel like as its master murmured sweet words. Her mind no longer worked, unable to decipher the meaning. All she could do was look up at Braxton with absolute adoration, soaking in the tone of her voice. She felt the cool touch of fingers brush across her cheek and jaw, her hair brushed back. Beccas own hands ran up Braxtons back, curving along the line of her shoulders before working their way back down.

Braxton leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Beccas forehead, the taller womans eyes closing with the gesture. Next, she placed gentle kisses on her cheeks, tip of her nose, chin, and finally her lips. The kiss was gentle, almost chaste, but soon became exploratory.

Becca started, putting her hands on the smaller womans shoulders, pushing gently. Braxton broke the kiss, resting on both elbows as she looked down at her, a question in her eyes. What are you doing, Braxton? she asked softly.

What indeed? Braxton looked into Beccas eyes, and all she could think of was that she wanted nothing more than to be with her right now. She knew it was goodbye, somewhere inside the deepest recesses of her soul, she knew. I dont know, she said honestly. But I cant stop.

I wont be able to, Braxton. Please, dont make me stop again. Beccas words almost came out in a whimper. She knew her body couldnt stand for release at Braxtons hands to elude it again, and there was no way in hell she was going to hunt down Carrie again.

Braxton felt almost possessed, her need so deep she knew there would be no stopping. Not tonight. Earlier fear forgotten, she leaned down again, pressing her lips to Beccas, using her tongue to gently part the taller womans lips. They both moaned softly as their tongues brushed, a slow dance as Becca buried her fingers into blonde hair, holding Braxton to her. The kiss broke again.

Are you sure about this? Becca panted. Her answer was Braxton pushing up to her knees and tugging her own t-shirt over her head, tossing it off into the darkness. Becca, stunned, looked up at the goddess who straddled her hips. She sat up, running her hands up and down Braxtons naked back, groaning at the softness of the skin. My god, she whispered.

Braxton sighed into the contact, her fear and trepidation pushed aside. She found Beccas mouth again, her hands blindly reaching for the hem of the taller womans shirt, their kiss breaking only long enough for the shirt to clear Beccas head. Oh god, Braxton cried as their breasts pressed together. Shed never felt anything so exquisite. Her head fell back as Beccas mouth explored her neck, a hot tongue licking a trail of fire down her throat. She buried her hands in the long strands of Beccas hair, holding her head to her as the mouth explored lower.

She shut her mind off, allowing sensation and physical need to rule this day. A whimper escaped as the hot tongue swiped over one of her nipples, sending a jolt of wet heat between her legs. Before she even realized what she was doing, her hips were rocking slowly against Beccas, her sex needing purchase on something, anything.

Becca pushed Braxton back until she was lying on her back, head at the foot of the bed. She laid herself between the blondes spread thighs, reaching down with one hand to worm its way between Braxtons shorts-clad ass and the mattress, holding the blonde to her.

Braxton cried out, the pressure of Beccas denim crotch pressing into her made her legs open wider, needing the contact. She felt so heavy and ached so badly, she thought shed explode within moments. Instead, she reached down, tugging frantically at Beccas jeans.

Becca got the idea, pushing herself up just long enough to remove her pants and underwear, pulling Braxtons shorts down at the same time. Naked, they lay pressed together, Becca finding the blondes mouth again. She snacked her fingers between their bodies, finding the drenched folds of Braxtons sex. She straddled one of Braxtons thighs with her own need as she pressed inside with two fingers.

Braxtons world became centered around those two fingers, her hips arching up to meet them. Beccas thrusts inside her body, and on her leg, were quick, borne of neglected need. It didnt take long for the orgasm to build to a dangerous level.

Oh, god, Becca groaned, her hips working in quick, short thrusts against Braxton. Gonna come



Braxton was too far gone to respond, her body exploding, her arms tightening around Becca, holding her close as she buried her face in the taller womans neck, her screams muffled.

Becca held her breath, eyes squeezing tight as she came hard, the bed shuddering beneath her convulsing body. They clung to each other as they came down, silence filling the room. Becca got them turned around so their heads found the pillows, and Braxton held in her arms, fell asleep.

***

Braxton turned over onto her stomach, blindly reaching down for the covers when she realized she was cold. She also realized she was naked, and then memory of just why she was naked came back to her.

Lifting her head, she blinked at the insistent sun shining in through the window. She was alone in the room, the pillow next to hers fluffy and cold. A surge of panic truck as the events of the night before paraded through her mind. She quickly climbed out of bed and dressed. Her bedroom door was closed, and all was quiet beyond. The bedside clock had told her it was past ten in the morning.

The hallway was empty, the door to the bathroom across the hall open, the room beyond dark. She turned to the right to see that Beccas bedroom door was also open, though light from the open window shades threw light onto the hallway carpet.

Padding out into the hall, Braxton swallowed hard. Becca? she called softly, walking the short distance to her roommates bedroom. The bedroom was empty. The bed had been stripped to the mattress. Bookcases were still there, though the books were gone. The hanging photographs were gone. Anything personal was gone.

Braxton walked further into the room, turning in a slow circle as her hands clutched at her suddenly-nauseous stomach. Finally she ended up sitting on her butt at the center of the room, feeling numb. She wasnt sure how long she sat there when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Her disappointment was profound when Jared popped his head through the door.

Whoa, he said, eyes huge. Where did Becca go?

Home, Braxton said softly. She felt the tears coming, hard and swift. Within a heartbeat, her best friend was kneeling next to her. She cried in his arms, though could not answer his questions. All she could do was cry and think that one more person in her life had been taken from her.

***

Barbara came by to collect Beccas furniture over the course of the following week. Braxton made herself scarce, not wanting to see the last vestiges of Becca go. Besides, she had to study hard for the last semester shed be at the university. Shed been accepted to NYUs art program. She turned her focus to that goal, and her new life, which would begin soon. Shed make sure she came back for her mothers court dates in late winter.

She avoided Carrie, for some reason unable to forgive the smaller woman, which was crazy, she knew. Systematically, Braxton began to push people out of her life one by one. She told herself it was because she had other things to focus on, but when it boiled down to it, it was because it hurt less, somehow. She could leave with an open heart, no loose ends or emotions, which were messy.

The day came when she packed up the sedan, taking only her clothing and personal things, having sold everything else. She would be moving into an apartment with another girl also in the art program, and the place was fully furnished. Life would go on, no matter how badly her heart hurt. There wasnt a day that went by that she didnt think about or miss Becca. It had been through sheer willpower that she hadnt gone down to the big, blonde womans shop and ask about her. Becca hadnt called, hadnt sent an email, and sent a smoke signal. It was almost as though shed never exited at all. Or, perhaps she only existed in Braxtons dreams.

Car loaded up and ready to go, Braxton headed toward HWY 50, which would lead her out of the state and on her way east. She didnt notice the white van that was parked at Dunkin Donuts on the way out of town, nor did she notice the driver who sat crying behind the wheel.

Part 20

Becca climbed up to the second level balcony, feeling like a monkey. With the expert precision of doing it thousands of times, she swung from the sliding ladder to the cement floor.

“Hey, Brian!” she called, leaning over the railing. Her younger brother, who was standing on the main level of the warehouse, talking to their forklift operator. He looked up at her. “How many do we need again?”

Brian Steiner looked down at the order clipped to his clipboard. “Four! Horn-rimmed. Black!” he called back up. Becca saluted acknowledgement, then disappeared into the shadows of the second level again.

Becca searched through all the plastic tubs that were lined on the hand-built wood shelving, scanning the labels. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed, finding what she was looking for. She pulled off the plastic lid to reveal a box full of various types of glasses: plastic frames, wire frames, and every color of the rainbow. “Black,” she muttered, sorting through until she found the color and style. “Horn-rimmed, and four pairs.” Glasses set aside, she replaced the box and moved on to the next item on her list.

Brian was finishing up the paperwork by time Becca had everything stowed in the Prop Masters car. She waited behind her brother with her hands buried in the back pockets of her well-worn jeans. When the business was concluded, Brian and Becca headed inside the massive structure that was B&B Prop Shop.

“He said hes going to talk with Spielberg tomorrow,” Brian was saying, heading toward the office they shared. “He may be back for that Cadillac.”

“Okay.” Becca threw herself into one of the padded metal chairs, blowing out a loud breath. “Damn, its been a long day.” She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair. “What?” she asked, eyeing her brother, who had sat behind the desk across from her.

“I cant get used to you with the dark hair.” He eyed her, shaking his head. “Its so

not you.”

“Oh, come on. It looks good,” Becca murmured absently as she pulled a few strands in front of her eyes to look at the deep, chestnut color.

“Guess thats what happens when youre in a relationship with a movie makeup person.” He grinned. “At least it wasnt blue this time.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “Oh, god, I know. Honey, I want to color your hair so it matches your eyes.” They both dissolved into laughter at Beccas dead-on impersonation of her girlfriend of two years.

“Well, are you ready to close up shop?” Brian looked at his wristwatch. “Its almost midnight-thirty. Im pooped.”

“Me, too. You go ahead, Bri. I dont want Christy to kick my ass.”

Brian grinned, pushing away from the desk. “Well, since it was supposed to be my day off and all

“

“Yeah, yeah.” Becca leaned back in her chair, eyes closed as she listened to her younger brother move around the office. “Ill remember that snide comment next time you get a huge order in and its my day off.” She heard him chuckle, then leave. Within moments the engine of his truck roared to life, and he was gone.

Blowing out a breath, Becca opened her eyes and wandered into the warehouse. Hands on hips, she studied her surroundings. Theyd come far in eight years. She thought back to those early days. Shed arrived back in her hometown, not knowing the town anymore. It had grown in the four years shed been gone. New buildings. New businesses. New people. Shed gotten a job at a tattoo parlor called Badlands Tattoos, the owner a friend of her Aunt Barbaras. After finding an apartment and settling in, shed worked for a month before shed garnered the courage to go home.

To say the welcome was icy was a gross understatement. Her two youngest brothers had welcomed her with open arms, far too young when shed left to really remember the bad times, or condemn her. Her oldest brother, James, still refused to speak with her, but the second oldest, Toby, two years her senior, had started to come around within a year.

Her parents, well, that had been a different story entirely. Her father refused to see her or allow her into his house. Her mother, on the other hand, had cried as shed held her only daughter. Theyd meet for clandestine lunches and meetings. Things werent much different now than they had been eight years before, or four years before that. Her father still judged her, and was a miserable old man for it.

Brian had gotten married to a local girl, then theyd headed off west to California where Christys family was. A twenty-three year old Brian had managed to get a job as a security guard at Universal Studios, and the bug had struck. Two years later hed talked Becca into joining him. Over the next two years theyd managed to make a deal with the bank and Christys father, and started their very own business. At first it had been simply a matter of selling themselves to production companies and studios to gather what the production needed: heavy equipment, vehicles for shooting. They would find staff, and make deals for sound stages, with companies that didnt have their own.

Their reputation for being fair and extremely good at what they did spread quickly, and finally they opened B&B Prop Shop. Now, Becca stood on the ground floor, looking into the vastness of the space that surrounded her. They carried everything from clown noses to furniture to an Army tank, all stored within the walls of their warehouse. They catered to the film sets, as well as the many colleges, universities and acting schools from San Diego to Seattle. They had finally hired three other employees last year, the business too much for the two of them to handle.

Becca liked her life. It was a good life. She was content in most ways, though she couldnt help but wish she had what Brian and Christy had. Yes, she had Jae, but even after two years together, she had no desire to move in with the eccentric makeup artist. Jae was great, she was beautiful and a little bit crazy, but she wasnt in Beccas heart. She wasnt sure that the twenty-eight year old even had that kind of capacity within her. Becca had known better when she started to date the woman who was six years younger than herself. Shed learned long ago to stay away from the younger ones.

Sighing heavily, Becca shut down all the lights and made sure the security system was set. She waved goodnight to Wayne, their night guard, then climbed into her two month old midnight black Chevy 3LT convertible Corvette. The two-toned black and white leather seats were soft under her weight as she sat. She inhaled the wonderful smell of new car, then started the engine. Immediately the rag top was stowing itself into the trunk as she squealed into the night.

Usually one for her alone time, she didnt feel like going back to an empty house. For some reason tonight she craved company, a rarity. Her time in prison had changed her irrevocably. Once she was a social butterfly who got a charge out of the looks and stares that came her way. In prison her looks had made things so much worse for her. Petty jealousies that were harmless on the streets were deadly behind bars. Once shed gotten out, shed craved solitude and peace.

That was one thing she liked about living near L.A. Beautiful people ruled the landscape. You saw one, you saw a hundred. Becca was no better, no worse, and she liked it that way. During her time in the City of Angels, the modeling world had come calling more than once, but she was finished with that. She no longer had a need for attention and to be fawned over. She wanted to live a happy, quiet life running the business she and Brian had worked so hard to build. Her brother, now thirty and with Christy and two young children, were her only family on the coast, and they were really her only friends or social outlet. More often than not Jae had something industry-related to go to, and once in awhile Becca joined her. But, for the most part, she stayed in the small bungalow shed bought three years ago, and relished the peace shed finally found.

The spring night air was warm as it blew through her hair, whipping all over her face. One-handed, she grabbed a baseball cap from the glove box and put it on backwards. She grinned as her newest toy purred beneath her as she took the winding roads in the Hills at dangerous speeds. She could see the Hollywood sign intermittently between the trees as she sped along. She felt like howling at the moon in the joy of her freedom.

Two hours later Becca pulled into her driveway, a groan escaping her throat. Every light in the three bedroom bungalow was aglow, as well as a trail of cars were parked along the curb. “Shit.”

Laughter could be heard before Becca even got the front door open. The smell of pizza filled the air, as well as beer. “Babe, is that you?” a female voice called from around the corner in the living room.

“Who else?” Becca muttered, closing and locking the front door. “Yep.” She walked into the well-lit room where her furniture was filled with bodies, all laughter and talking stopped as all eyes focused on her. She held up a hand, giving the room at large a small wave. She recognized most, all Jaes friends, and most in the film industry in one way or another. Her eccentric girlfriend was sitting on the floor cross-legged, a beer in her hand. She raised the brown bottle in a salute of greeting.

“Whats going on?” Becca asked, glancing at the wall clock, “at almost two in the morning.”

Jae pushed up to her feet with a small grunt and walked over to the brunette. Wrapping her in a tight hug, she kissed Becca thoroughly. “I missed you and was lonely,” Jae explained against her lips.

“Well,” Becca said, trying to hide her irritation. She knew how social Jae was, and tried not to be a complete anti-social hermit. “Im tired, so can you maybe pack it up?”

Jae backed away just enough to look into Beccas eyes. Not seeing any anger, she grinned as she nodded. “Okay.” One more quick kiss and Jae turned away and back to her roomful of guests. “Everyone out. I wanna screw my girlfriend.”

Becca nearly died of embarrassment even as the group chuckled. Slowly they began to gather their trash and throw it out. A smattering of goodbyes, and fifteen minutes later, Becca and Jae were in Beccas bedroom, the makeup artist quickly undressing her quarry. She spoke as she did.

“You should have joined us tonight. We had a lot of fun.”

“Im sure you did,” Becca said, her nipples instantly hardening as the air from the overhead fan swept across them. “It was just too long of a day.” She moaned softly as one of those nipples was suckled. “Who was the tall black guy?” she managed.

“Rob. Hes the newest boyfriend of Alec,” Jae murmured, systematically removing jeans and panties.

“Oh.” As Becca stepped out of her jeans, she got a mental image of Jaes old friend, Alec. He was a fellow makeup artist in the industry, as well as an artist. She called his thin frame and short, well-cut black hair. He was a good looking guy, and his new boyfriend was, too. They made a good couple.

“Alec is the reason why I get to work on that new Matt Damon film,” she murmured, pushing Beccas newly-nude body onto the bed. “He wont miss his daughters birthday,” she explained, crawling on top of the brunette.

“Kid?” Becca gasped, hips surging as she was filled.

“Yeah. Hes got a kid.”

All discussions were over for the night.

***

Becca lay in the dark, too exhausted to sleep. She shouldnt have let Jae make love to her, but once the makeup artist had started, she was too far gone, lost in pleasure to stop her. When shed arrived on the threshold of her house, shed been tired to the point of dropping. Somewhere after her second orgasm, shed crossed the line to deliriously tired. Shed been at the prop shop since seven-thirty that morning. As tired as she was, she loved the long days, which were constant. Especially in the spring. Everyone was trying to get their films made before the summer heat, when business slowed way down. The universities were out for summer, productions slowed or stopped, or moved to cooler locations, typically abroad. But then come fall, business boomed again.

She glanced over at the woman who lay next to her, bare back to Becca, the sheet tucked under her arms. It was then that Becca realized Jae had red and yellow streaks in her normally dirty-blonde hair color. Smirking, she returned her attention back to the ceiling above her.

It was almost four in the morning, and she had to be back at work at eight. UCLA was putting on some huge production, and their production designer had called B&B six days ago to put their order in. It would be a cast of one hundred and four, each needing a pair of Roman sandals. She began to tick off the numbers in her head: 14 crested Roman helmets; 50 Centurion helmets; 13 more Roman swords and shields

On and on the list went. She and Angus, one of their delivery guys, would start bringing things to the school later that afternoon while Brian sweet-talked their sources. He was far better at that then Becca was.

With a sigh, she turned to her side, back to Jae, and began to count sheep.

***

“Okay, gonna move these. I dont really want to get stabbed.” Becca readjusted the box of Gladius that were on the front seat of the small cab of the truck shed be using to bring props to the school. The back trailer was completely filled. The dozen ten foot “stone” Roman pillars theyd asked for took up a hefty amount of space. Add to it the chariot and boxes of weapons and armor, and she had a full load.

“You ready, Becca?” Angus asked, keys to his truck dangling from his fingers. He would follow her over and help unload.

“Yep. Lets hit it.” Becca climbed behind the wheel of the diesel, getting her roaring into action. They pulled out of the industrial park where the warehouse was, and headed out toward the University of California at Los Angeles.

The twenty-four foot trailer and truck were directed around the back loading docks, followed closely by Angus and his thirteen year old Dotson pickup truck. Becca watched the guy on the loading dock, inching the truck back until he gave her the stop gesture. She put the truck in gear and cut the engine, then hopped down from the cab.

“Afternoon,” she said, climbing onto the loading dock, handing him a clipboard with a list of the contents of the trailer. “Are you Clint?”

“Yes, maam. Nice to meet you.” He looked down at the list in his hands, waiting as Becca unlocked and tugged open the cargo door. Soon Angus joined her on the dock. As items were accounted for, Clint marked them off until he had a list full of check marks. “Great. Lets get all this inside.”

Paperwork set aside for the moment, Becca, Angus and Clint began to unload the props, following the short, squat man down a long, dim hallway until they reached the back of the stage area, where other props were already assembled.

“Set the pillars over there against that wall,” Clint directed, pointing toward a far corner. Becca grunted her acknowledgment, an end of the long, heavy pillars resting on a shoulder of hers and Angus. Together they got the pillars lined up, Becca adjusting her shoulders as she headed back out toward the loading dock and the nearly empty truck.

She visually perused the contents that remained: the chariot and three boxes of armor, as well as the two boxes of swords in the front seat. Within a few moments she had the chariot loaded with the boxes from the back, and with a heavy grunt, began to pull, in the horses places before the hard plastic and metal replica. It was beautifully done; from the audience, it would look like it was made of wood, gold and ornate artistry.

Angus was coming back down the hall, but flattened himself against the wall when he saw Becca coming. “Grab the swords from the front seat,” she grunted. He nodded, hurrying outside when she passed him. She plodded along, finally reaching the backstage area, where Clint and a tall, rather gaunt woman were sorting through what had been brought.

“Let me help you!” Clint exclaimed, hurrying over to Becca, seeing the exertion on her face.

“Just take the boxes out of the back,” she instructed, as they were full of metal armor, beautifully pounded and polished. He and the woman quickly stacked the boxes against a back wall, leaving Becca to wheel the much-lighter chariot next to the pillars.

“This stuff is fantastic,” the woman exclaimed, bringing out one of the Centurion helmets. “Absolutely fantastic!” She held up a helmet for Clint to inspect.

“Well have the rest for you within a few days. Were still waiting on a few things to come in,” Becca explained, delighted that they had another satisfied customer on their hands. She quickly withdrew her business card wallet and handed the woman and Clint a card. “If you guys ever need anything… Spread the word.”

“Oh, I know I certainly will,” the woman gushed. Becca was amused by her overly-dramatic flourish. She figured she must be the director. “You must come see what weve already done to the stage!” She grabbed Beccas arm and drug her around to the wings, and finally onto the stage.

Becca looked around, taking in the people milling about in the auditorium and on stage. The stage had been set up like a grand hall in Caesars palace. It looked so real Becca was almost convinced she could walk up to one of the flats and right through it, down the ornately appointed hall and outside into another era.

“Hey, Michael! I need the yellow when youre done!” a woman cried out, her voice echoing in the large space.

Beccas gaze was pulled toward the sound, which niggled at the back of her spine. She turned but only saw a small group of people working on another flat. Three were standing, one kneeling in front of them. She could barely make out the kneeling form between their bodies and legs.

A young man, didnt look any older than nineteen, hurried from the left wing, nearly clipping Becca as he passed, a container of paint in his hands. “Sorry, Teach,” she panted, obviously running a great distance with the paint. He handed the container to the kneeling figure.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it from him. “Has the chariot arrived yet?” she asked him.

“Umm, I dont know. Want me to check?” he said, his upper half disappearing in front of the standing painters as he bent over at the waist, resting his hands on his knees.

“Yeah. The props were supposed to have been delivered this morning, I think.”

“Okay.” He stood, looking around. His dark gaze caught Beccas. “Hey,” he called out, walking across the stage toward her. “Have you seen a chariot back there anywhere?” he indicated the back of the stage with his thumb.

“Yeah. I just dropped it off. Hold tight and Ill grab it,” Becca said.

“Great! Thanks. We gotta match up colors and stuff,” he explained shyly.

Becca nodded then trotted off toward where shed left the two-wheeled vehicle near the pillars. She hurried back to the stage as quickly as the heavy prop would allow, finally wheeling it to the middle of the stage to stay out of the way of the painters.

Michaels eyes lit up when he saw it. “Oh, that is so cool! You guys gotta see this.” Michael walked all around the chariot, running his hands along the smooth finish. “Damn, looks real.” Other students began to gather, leaving their paintbrushes on upturned paint can lids or in paint trays. They murmured amongst themselves as

Becca stepped back, arms crossed proudly over her chest. She felt almost as though she had created it herself. She glanced over to where the woman who requested the prop was still kneeling, finishing up an intricate “wall covering”. She had her blonde hair held back from her face with a blue and white bandana. She wore a tank top, strong, tanned shoulders and arms moving and flexing with her artistic efforts. She leaned up on her knees to reach the uppermost part of her artwork, then she, too dropped her brush into a paint tray.

The woman got to her feet, brushing her hands on loose-fitting paint-stained Levis. Becca felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest, her palms sweat as she watched the woman slowly turn to head over to the main attraction of the chariot. Her heart seized when she was confronted with striking, green eyes.

Part 21

She prowled around the office like a restless panther, hands clasped behind her back. Dr. Joyce Bane watched in annoyed fascination. “So, do you wish to tell me what has you so keyed up today?” she asked her new patient. Braxton Crowley had only been coming to her officer for the past four months.

The blonde made one more lap around the plush office, then sat heavily in the leather recliner, her slight weight creaking. “Im not keyed up.”

“No?” Joyce glanced at her watch. “Youve been pacing my office for the past fifteen of the eighteen minutes youve been here. Wish to share?”

Braxton sat for a moment, unsure how to answer that. She found herself absently picking at the paint that had dried in the cracks of her hands. She stopped with an apologetic smile when she caught Dr. Bane watching the paint flecks fall to the thick carpeting. “Theres something that happened to me when I was younger, back in college, that I havent told you about. I think it might be important.”

“Alright,” Joyce said, uncrossing her elegant legs only to re-cross with the other. “Does this have to do with Alec?”

Braxton smiled and shook her head. “Amazingly enough, no. However,” she raised a finger, “this did start a chain of events that led me to Alec. Does that count?”

Joyce chuckled, readjusting her glasses. “Sure.”

“Alright. Anyway, I was at the school today, working on the flats, getting the set ready for the production theyre getting ready to do. Lugged all my third-year students down to help out. I turn around, and I see this woman,” Braxton grabbed the aged sketchpad shed brought with her, flipping it open to a drawing shed done eight years before.

Joyce accepted the sketchpad, looking over the black and gray images. The picture showed the face of a beautiful woman, features seemingly sculpted from the statue of a goddess. Her eyes were light in color and filled with an intensity that jumped out at the viewer. Behind and around her were rows of tombstones and menacing-looking forests, their skeleton arms reaching up to a stormy sky.

“Exquisite work, Braxton,” she said. “What does it all mean?”

“Thank you. And thats where my story begins.” Braxton took a deep breath, readying herself for the full story shed never told anyone else. “I was in a terrible car accident when I was twenty-one. Last day of my junior year.” She told her therapist about the events that led up to the tragedy, the older woman listening impassively. “Anyway, so Im in this coma for three months, but for me, it was a crazy adventure.”

Joyce listened, doing her best not to scribble down every word the petit blonde had to say in her notes for Braxtons case. She listened to a world filled with adventure, wild horse rides, a cemetery never-ending, and a fight for her very soul. “Tell me more about this Marcus character.”

“What do you want to know? He represented every evil I was afraid of in my life, which was a lot at that time. Ultimately, it all boiled down to my father. I was having horrible nightmares, but then once Fletcher was dead,” Braxton shrugged, “they stopped.”

“You refer to your father as Fletcher. Why?”

“Because thats who he is: Fletcher Crowley. Nothing more.”

“Alright. So, back then to your sketch.” Joyce tapped the pad still on her lap. “Are these images from your dream?”

Braxton nodded. “Thats Asima. She was my guide. She came to me in dreams for a long time.” Braxtons voice was almost wistful. Her guide had become a nocturnal guard and protector, keeping all her bad dreams away for many years.

“But not anymore?”

“No. She stopped coming after Grace was born.”

“Why do you think that happened?”

“I really dont know.” Braxton shook her head with a small sigh and a sheepish smile. “I do miss her, though. She was so comforting to me.”

“Did you always dream about her once you woke up from your coma?” Joyce flipped the sketchpad closed and handed it across the short distance to her patient.

Braxton took the pad, hugging it to her chest with both arms. “No. It was a gradual thing. I think she was there the entire time, but I didnt realize it.”

Confused, Joyce pulled off her glasses, absently cleaning them with a tissue. “Something from all this has you rattled today, then?”

“Yeah,” Braxton said in a burst of laughter. “I saw Asima on stage at the college!” She laughed again at the unusual break in Joyce Banes expression. “I know. Trust me, I know.” She shook her head to try and get the image out of her mind. “I think Ive had a few too many paint fumes over the past week.” She was up and pacing again.

“Perhaps it was someone who looked remarkably like your dream figure?” Joyce suggested, following Braxtons progress with the turn of her head. “Someone you actually knew in your life prior to your accident and incorporated into your dream world?”

Braxton stopped, looking out the window into the early afternoon. An image came before her eyes, one that she hadnt thought of in many years. “Maybe,” she said murmured.

***

Braxton listened absently to the chatter of the four year old who held onto her hand as they made their way outside of the childcare facility. Years of practice had taught her when and where to ohh and ahh, even as her mind somersaulted around other thoughts.

“Mamma, can we get a happy meal for dinner?” the dark-haired child asked.

Braxton looked down into the hopeful green eyes, the exact same color as her own, and smiled. “You got it, sweetie.” She gave the small hand within her own a loving squeeze, then helped her daughter into the child seat that had grown with her, a baby shower gift four years before.

Everyone loaded safe and sound into the Pathfinder, Braxton got them on their way. As she drove, she reached back and pulled the hair tie out of her long, blonde hair, shaking the strands free from their day of confinement.

“Mamma?” Grace called from the backseat.

“Yeah?” Braxton met her daughters gaze in the rearview mirror. “Can we color when we get home?”

Braxton smiled, nodding. “Of course we can, sweetheart.” Her child was already proving to be quite the little artist, which put a smile in her mothers heart.

The moment Braxton had arrived in New York City, looking up at the huge buildings and the crazy busy traffic, she knew shed found somewhere different, somewhere she could grow and eventually fly. Shed taken to her new school like a duck to water, and had excelled in the program. Shed been offered a position at NYU right after graduation with her masters, and shed taken it, working on her doctorate in Art Studies while she taught undergrads.

Five wonderful years of education later, shed become Dr. Braxton Crowley, and mother of Grace Lindsey Crowley. She thought back to the days when shed met Graces father, Alec Robecheck. Theyd met during her first day of the program, he a fellow student. Alecs dark good looks and amusing take on life had caught her attention, and theyd become instant friends. It had helped soothe her loneliness, and for awhile had helped to fill the void that not having Jared nearby had left.

After almost three years of friendship, Braxton found herself and Alec becoming closer and closer until one day he asked her to go out with him. For reasons that made no sense to her now, and not much more sense then, shed agreed. It made no sense at all, considering shed turned down innumerable date invites from guys since day one at in the program. Shed even had one of her professors ask her out for coffee. When she really thought about it, she figured it just boiled down to needing that connection, that one person who knew her better than anyone, which Alec did.

Their dates werent a whole lot different than when theyd just hung out, except it had added a new dimension to their relationship that had never been there before: nerves. Braxton remembered well that night, up in Alecs apartment he shared with three other guys. The stars had aligned, or conspired, and all three of his roommates were out for the night. The two were curled up on Alecs old, avocado-green couch munching on popcorn and watching movies when Alec had kissed her. Though theyd been dating for nearly a year, it was the first time either of them had initiated any sort of intimate or sexual act.

At first, Braxtons own nervousness and innate realization of how crazy it all was, wanted to laugh at the gesture, but the part of her that had been celibate for more than three years cried to be touched. She kissed him back, and before either of them knew it, Alec was grunting with one more thrust as he came, then fell limply on top of Braxton.

For a long moment they were both too shocked to move, then finally he got up, shyly pulling his clothes on and handing Braxton hers. Not long after Braxton had gone home, mixed feelings bringing her to tears in the tiny stall that was her shower in the seemingly tinier studio apartment she rented. Two days later theyd cried together when Alec told her he realized he was gay, and couldnt “do this” anymore. Both relieved and angry, Braxton had held him and let him talk.

Together they strived to keep their closeness as friends, and let the fact that theyd had sex draw them closer rather than tear them apart. That had been the case until two months later when shed gotten the shock of her life. Alec took the news of their impending child better than she did. Her first thought was to abort it. She still had more schooling, and had absolutely no idea how to raise a child. She did not want to replay the sins of her own parents, and was terrified that she would. Ultimately, Alec had talked her out of the abortion, something for which Braxton would grateful the rest of her life. She wept and fell in love during the first ultrasound, when her child was not much more than a spec on the radar.

“Mamma?” Grace called from the backseat, pulling Braxton out of her reverie. “The ladys talking to you.”

Confused, Braxton looked around, then at the speaker next to her open window, where undoubtedly an impatient teenager waited to take her order. “Oh, sorry.” She quickly ordered their dinner then collected it at the second window.

“Grace, run upstairs and put your backpack away, then come back and eat,” Braxton instructed as they entered the small, but nice three bedroom two-story shed bought six months ago when theyd arrived in California. Her daughter raced up the stairs, pink and blue backpack in hand, which contained all her coloring books, crayons and Dora the Explorer play kits that she took with her to daycare everyday.

Braxton kicked off her shoes and padded around the first level of the house, taking their dinner to the kitchen and spreading it out over the small, oak round table shed brought with her from their apartment in New York. Though shed been sorry to leave the City, she had to say, having their very own house was worth the move across the country in itself!

Grace raced down the stairs, reaching the kitchen in record time. She climbed onto her chair, immediately snagging a fry before starting in on her cheeseburger-no pickles, extra onions. Braxton had never understood her daughters love of the fragrant vegetable, but just hoped she outgrew it before she started dating. In twenty years.

After a long evening of drawing pictures for Grace to color, Braxton was glad to have a little time alone, her daughter long ago bathed and read to sleep. She sat in the living room, a cup of coffee in her hand as she watched the evening news. Well, that is, the TV was on, but she wasnt doing much watching.

Instead, her mind raced back to earlier in the day and the moment shed seen those piercing blue eyes staring back at her. She thought she had, anyway. She remembered finishing up her painting on the flat, then turning to see her students, and some of the actors and crew gathering around the chariot prop. On the far side had stood a tall woman with long, dark hair, her sky-blue eyes in direct contrast with the color. Theyd shared a look for a moment, and then a group of tall, male students had gathered, severing the connection.

Braxton had hurried over to where shed seen the woman standing, only to find nothing. Had she imagined it? Had it been someone who had just happened to look exactly like her guide? Or, was Dr. Bane right, and perhaps Asima had been created from someone Braxton had seen in her life before the accident, and this woman either looked like her, or had been her?

“Maybe Im just going crazy,” she muttered, sipping from the steaming brew. The other possibility teased her brain, but she knew that couldnt be it. The day she realized that Becca Steiner had been a dead ringer for Asima, just with lighter hair, Braxton had gasped in shock. She hadnt seen her old roommate since the morning after

. Well, since the morning after. She had done what she could to erase those events, and the woman from her mind. Once upon a time it had hurt too much to allow Becca back into her thoughts. Then, after awhile, shed just drifted away, seeming to be from another lifetime.

Eyes briefly watching a story on yet another bombing in a distant and strange land, Braxton clicked off the television and returned to her thoughts, turning so she reclined on the couch, cup resting on her stomach. She stared up at the slowly turning blades of the ceiling fan. One thing she did miss about New York, and even Colorado, for that matter, was snow. Maybe next winter shed take Grace back to visit friends.

Or, she thought with a bright smile, maybe theyd go and visit Jared and Karen. The couple had married six years ago. Braxton had been Jareds “Best Woman”. She had felt beyond strange heading a row of tuxedo-clad men, her best friend looking gorgeous in his own tux.

Jared hadnt seen Grace since the baptism ceremony where he became her Godfather. He was busy working as an administrator in Karens hospital, where she was still an ICU nurse. Braxton always lamented the fact that they had no children for her to spoil, as they spoiled Grace. The little girl was constantly getting presents in the mail from her “Uncle Jared”.

Her smile faded as yet again Becca came to her mind. Shed asked Jared about her exactly once. Hed told her that their old roommate hadnt been seen around town, but that Carrie had run into Beccas aunt. Barbara had told her that Becca was doing well, and had gone into business with her brother. Short and sweet. Barbara hadnt told her where, or what kind of business they were in.

She couldnt help but wonder where Becca had landed, and how much shed managed to reconcile with her family. Obviously things had gone well with one of her brothers. Braxton allowed herself to think of that final night theyd spent together. If she thought hard enough, she could still feel Beccas hands on her. Could see the beautiful blue eyes as theyd looked into hers, holding her gaze as theyd made love. Other than the quickie with Alec on the couch, Braxton hadnt been touched by anyone else.

She was surprised to feel her body start to burn low in her belly. It was a relatively foreign feeling for her. She indulged occasionally in a little self-exploration, but usually between her full-time teaching position and Grace, she was far too tired to consider sex. She was happy that way, blocking it out of her mind. Grace was her life, now. Anything else could wait.

The wet heat that was beginning to gather between her thighs told a different story. Braxton groaned, her sex clenching with memory of being touched. She set her coffee cup on the coffee table, then rested her hand in its place. The material of her shirt was still warm from the hot mug. Braxton closed her eyes, clenching her thighs together, trying to squeeze the need away.

A low groan escaped as her body betrayed her. Her clit began to pulse as blood gathered, demanding attention. Almost as though of their own accord, her hand slid down the flat planes of her belly, the rough material of her jeans meeting her fingertips. Through the haze of memory she could feel the gentle, yet firm touch of fingers between her legs. She groaned as she slid her hand underneath the waistband of her jeans. Thick heat met her fingers. Her breath caught as a finger of pleasure raced up her spine. She could feel Beccas own wetness against her thigh as shed ridden Braxtons leg, all the while stroking the blonde.

Braxtons thighs parted slightly, almost to make room for her ghost lover. She found her clit, hard and almost painfully swollen. She stroked it with rapid, firm strokes, matching that of her memory. Her hips began to move with her hand, her pleasure rising, head pushing back into the pillow beneath it. With a gasp and final shudder, she forced her body over the edge, her orgasm devastating in its intensity.

Panting softly, Braxton tried to get her body back under control, a hand raising to cover her eyes. She felt a sting of loneliness behind her eyes as her heart began to calm.

“Mamma?” was called softly from the landing at the top of the stairs.

Braxton swallowed several times before answering. “Yeah, honey?” she called back.

“I need a drink of water.”

Braxton sighed, sitting up and running her hands through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. “Okay, Grace. Be there in a minute.” On shaky legs, she headed to the kitchen to do her daughters bidding. “Ive got Grace,” she murmured. “Thats all I need.”

***

Becca sat on the beach, watching as the waves moved in, their crests painted with moonlight. It truly was beautiful, but she couldnt see its beauty. All she could see was Braxton. It had been eight years, but it didnt matter. It could have been forty, and she still would have known the blonde anywhere.

What the hell was she doing at UCLA? What the hell was she doing in California? It had been surreal. Becca had blinked several times to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. The visage hadnt gone away, those green eyes still held her captive. Beccas heart had stopped, her world stopped. When the crush of students had broken the eye contact, shed been so grateful. She had needed to get out of there, had to escape a past that had never been reconciled.

She held the bottle of her Coke by the neck, taking a quick swig before returning her gaze to the waves. She assumed Braxton worked there, was a teacher. After all, that Michael guy kept calling her Teach. Was that true? Was Braxton teaching art at UCLA? Not likely it would be anything else.

At one time Becca would have begged for the opportunity to see Braxton again. To talk to her. Touch her. That was long ago when shed been young and drifting through life without a goal or destination. Now, she had her business, which was extremely successful, and a basically satisfying relationship. Satisfying enough for what she wanted, anyway. It was enough. Damn it, it had to be enough!

Becca pushed to her feet, wiping the sand off the seat of her jeans. She made her way along the beach, booted feet sinking into the softness. Shed once been told that most of the san on the beach was actually petrified fish poop. She didnt know if that was true, but found it amusing all the same.

She swung her Coke back and forth casually as she walked, looking at the millions of other foot impressions in the sand all around her. She wondered who had made those, and what had they been thinking as they had walked this same stretch. Were they happy? Were they sad? Were they confused as she was now?

Images of Jae came into Beccas mind. Her multi-colored hair, crazy makeup and mischievous eyes. More than once the makeup artist had accused her of being too serious. Becca often wondered if that was true, and if it was, where had her humor gone?

Without looking a the clock on her cell phone, Becca knew it was close to ten p.m., and she was exhausted. Another long day and little sleep the night before, she was ready to crash. Jae was gone on set for a film in Montana, and would be gone for the next fifteen to twenty days until the production moved back to California and the sound stages.. She would be missed, but at the same time, Becca was glad to have some time to herself. Those breaks, when Jae was away, was probably the only way their relationship had survived thus far. They were so different. More than once Becca had wondered who shed ended up with the energetic makeup artist in the first place.

Becca ran a hand through her hair, chuckling to herself at what shed allowed Jae to do to her over the last couple years. It was a good thing she wasnt in a job where a hair dress code was required. The only thing shed not allow Jae to do was cut or style her hair. Shed had blue hair, green, pink stripes, and now nearly black hair. Out of all the crazy concoctions, Becca had to admit she liked it the best. Looked great with her eyes.

***

The house was dark when Becca arrived, which was nice. She craved solitude. She let herself in through the kitchen and tossed her keys onto the counter, along with her cell phone. She headed straight for the bathroom, needing a shower after a long day of lifting and moving heavy props, and climbing the numerous ladders in the warehouse like a monkey.

Padding around in boxers and a tank top, Becca ran her hands down the wet rope that was her hair, tugging it over one shoulder as she headed back into the kitchen. She was craving iced tea. The shower had woken her up a bit, so she decided to catch some TV before crashing.

Remote control in hand, Becca eased down onto the couch, but her eye caught the bookcase that stood sentinel in the corner of the room, next to the sliding glass doors that led out to the back patio. She saw the three large albums that were lined up along the bottom shelf. Pushing up from the soft cushions, she walked over and squatted, taking the first album into her hands. She looked at its face, white plastic with gold edging. She knew what lay within and decided to indulge.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Becca opened the cover, the plastic creaking slightly. An instant smile came to her face when snapshots of her family grinned back up at her, taken a long, long time ago. Before the accident. Grabbing a handful of pages, she flipped them over, wanting to get past those happier, yet painful times with her family. Instead, she wanted to see the pictures taken during her time living with the roommates.

Becca laughed out loud when she saw the picture of Jared splayed out over the living room floor, passed out after a party. Carrie and Lydia had decorated him with shaving cream while Becca had snapped the picture and Braxton had stood back laughing.

The years melted away as she looked into the youthful faces of her ex-roomies. So much hope for the future shone in their eyes. She hoped they got the futures they wanted. She hadnt spoken to or heard about any of them since she left town. Aunt Barbie had told her that Carrie had asked about her one time, but other than that, she had shelved it in her memory and heart as another time in her life.

She turned yet another page and stopped. Calm fingers lifted the clear, plastic covering and removed the snapshot beneath, bringing it closer for her inspection. Braxton was looking back at her. Short, blonde hair was sticking up all over her head, as shed been caught right after shed woken. The look on Braxtons face was curious annoyance. Her eyes were so clear, the color beautiful. Like a spring day. Becca smiled when she noticed that one of the dark blonde brows was lifted slightly in question.

Becca brought two fingers up, stroking the smooth face of the picture, wishing she could caress the face in the image.

Part 22

Braxton felt restless, as she always did when Graces father had her. She was glad Alec was able to see her and spend time with her. It was because of him that theyd ended up in California in the first place. When Grace was two years old, he took a prestigious position with one of L.A.s top celebrity photographers, doing the makeup and hair.

Braxton often laughed to herself, how she didnt know Alec was gay. Hed been giving her hair and makeup tips since the day theyd met.

A year after hed left New York, he called her up and told her about the position at UCLA. After a lot of soul searching, Braxton realized that her daughter needed to have her father in her life, and that she, herself was ready for something new after more than seven, almost eight, years in New York. From the moment shed applied for the position, her life had been on the fast track, the paperwork going through ridiculously fast, giving Braxton just enough time to wrap up her life in New York, let her mother know what was going on, and then move. The university had paid for all her moving expenses, as well as had helped her find the house she was currently prowling the rooms of.

Music on the stereo, she wandered to the kitchen where dishes awaited her from the large breakfast shed made for herself, Alec and his new boyfriend, and Grace. The trio had left not long after, and Braxton had been restless ever since. She loved the fact that Alec loved his daughter, but she hated being away from the child even though it gave her time paint, uninterrupted. Shed have the whole day and night for that, as Grace wasnt coming home until the following morning.

Too keyed up to paint, Braxton quickly the dishes, intentionally closing off her thoughts as she cleaned the kitchen, washed down the counters and table. She sprayed deodorizer in the air, as she hated the smell of sausage and eggs when it permeated the air.

Finally, Braxton sat at the kitchen table, legal pad of paper in front of her and a pen in her hand. She glanced over at the stack of drawings Grace had done for the grandmother shed never seen. Braxton couldnt wait for the day when Margot would get out, and finally start living. Shed be a wonderful grandmother, and Braxton couldnt help think shed like California, too. Her mother constantly complained about how cold it was at the Womens Correctional Facility in Canon City, Colorado. Though her mother was only approaching fifty, shed aged tremendously in the last eight years.

Dear Mom she began to write, then glanced out the patio doors that led to the small backyard. She chewed on the cap of her pen, trying to decide what to tell Margot. She couldnt help seeing the irony in that she and her mother had grown so much closer since her mother had gone to prison, sentenced to ten to twenty years for second degree murder. They said it was likely shed get out in ten or less. They were both praying for the less.

She settled in to write her weekly letter. Not very good with correspondence, Braxton knew how much her mother looked forward to the letters, so she put aside other tasks just to get one out. Grace also gave her mother messages to tell her grandmother. She was also going to be putting a new picture of Grace in with this letter.

Braxton picked up the snapshot shed gotten of her little girl at the beach the weekend before. Grace had her fathers thick, dark hair, Graces reaching to just below her tiny shoulders. She also had her fathers naturally sun-kissed complexion, though she got her mothers eyes and her smile. Braxton brandished her own smile as she stared into the clear, green eyes of the absolute love of her life. sometimes she looked at Grace and wondered how shed ever lived life without the precious little girl, and other times she wondered if she had the strength to teach Grace to be a good person, a productive citizen, and a loving individual.

Braxton wondered more than once if she were doing Grace a disservice but not supplying a second parent for her, a second point of view and opinion. A second perspective for the girl on what life is about, and how it should be lived. Was she denying Grace growth? Love? A second pair of arms to hold her when she fell, or to tuck her in and read to her at night?

Bringing up a hand, Braxton wiped a tear away that threatened to fall. She often thought back to when she was a little girl, back in Ivanwood. She used to dream about what shed be doing, where shed be living, and what her life would be at 30, which was just around the corner for her. In so many ways she was further ahead than she ever thought shed be: she had a good career, which she loved. She had a nice home and a child. But, what she hadnt counted on was a career in art, and having a child by herself.

Even so, she knew in her heart of hearts that if shed done what was proper and expected, gotten married  forget the fact that Alec is gay  she would be miserable. So what in her life would complete the picture for her?

Braxton started, hearing something crash upstairs. Heart pounding, she grabbed a knife from the knife block on the counter, and headed up, making sure nothing was disturbed along the way. Everything looked fine. Glancing into her daughters room as she walked down the hall, she saw nothing was amiss, so she kept going. The spare bedroom, which held most of her artwork, was next.

Stopping in the doorway, she scanned the room, seeing something gleaming on the floor near the bedside table. Tossing the knife to the bed, she knelt next to the mess, cringing when she saw that one of her paintings had fallen, the glass shattering and the frame in three splintered parts.

Damn, she muttered, carefully pulling the painted page from the carnage. She hissed as a small shard of glass jagged her fingertip. Sucking on the small wound, she looked at the painting itself. Intense blue eyes looked back at her from the page, the face beautiful in all its chiseled features. It was an image from one of her many dreams.

She fell back onto her butt, gaze unable to leave that staring back. She had seen that look so many times, that slight lifting of the corner of her mouth as a smirk was sent her way. She knew that face. Knew the body that wasnt shown in the painting. She knew her.

***

Becca used her feet to twist her chair to the left, her gaze locked on the game of solitaire on her computer screen. As soon as she was as far left as her neck could turn and still keep the screen in sight, she twisted to the right, the comfortable leather chair squeaking at the turn of direction.

She lazily clicked on the two of hearts, placing it on the three of spades. She could hear the boisterous laughter of her unwanted guests, Jae once again hosting one of her get-togethers. Becca had been out there with them for awhile, stayed through dinner, and even had a beer, but she was tired and just wanted to be alone. Even just a night with Jae wouldnt have been bad-cuddle on the couch, talk, maybe spend a leisurely night making out.

Becca sighed, half-heartedly smiling when she one yet another game. Yay. Becca wins again, she muttered, clicking for a new deal. In the living room, eating her food, were Alec and the new boyfriend, and the guys kid. There was another couple that Becca didnt now, and a woman that Jae worked with. A lighting technician, or grip or something. Ironically, Becca worked for the film industry, but knew little about it. At least, little about the particulars.

She began to play another round of solitaire, but was quickly getting bored with it. She closed the computer card game, tapping her fingers on the keyboard as she stared at the desktop screen on her computer. Chewing on her bottom lip, hand began to work, bringing up a new search screen. It had been two weeks since shed seen Braxton, and though shed done a fair job of pushing it out of her mind, she had to admit that the petit blonde was never all that far away.

Glancing behind her to make sure she was alone, she quickly made her way to the UCLA website, and deftly searched through the faculty until she found what she was looking for.

The blondes smiling face looked back at her, and Becca lost her breath for a moment. It was indeed the same woman shed seen that day on the stage Becca noticed Braxton still went by Crowley. What did that mean? Braxtons hair was long, flowing like spun gold around her shoulders and face. But what got Becca were her eyes. Their color still some of the most beautiful Becca had ever seen, but the acute intelligence and confidence in them struck a chord in her. She remembered well the young girl, so unsure of herself and her place in the world.

So lost was Becca in her reading, she didnt hear the footfalls come down the hall that halted in the open doorway of her study.

Thats my mommy, a small voice said.

Becca whipped around, Alecs little girl, Grace watching her. What, honey? she asked, not sure shed heard correctly.

The adorable little brunette pointed toward the computer screen, and Braxtons smiling face. Thats my mommy.

Becca looked back a the screen, then at the little girl who was slowly making her way into the room. She studied Graces face, a small gasp escaping when she saw Braxton in her. Youve got your mommys eyes, she whispered, transfixed by the honest, innocent gaze that looked back at her.

My Granny says that, too.

Becca leaned forward in her seat, forearms resting along her spread thighs. Her thoughts turned to Margot, a smile lifting her lips. Do you see your Granny? she asked hopefully.

Grace shook her head. Shes away. I drawr her pitures! the girl boasted.

Becca chuckled. You do? Becca was enchanted. Ordinarily she wasnt one for kids, not because she didnt like them but because she had no idea what to do or say to them. What kind of piturs?

Delighted to be asked about herself, Grace made her way a little closer to the big, tall woman, her fingers grazing shyly on a table she passed in her slow journey. Sparklies, Grace explained.

What are sparklies? The girl pointed to the ceiling, patiently waiting for the adult to figure it out. Becca followed her finger, a curious brow rising.

The moon, too, Grace innocently provided.

Oh, sparklies! Becca exclaimed, getting it. Wanna drawr me some sparklies and the moon? Becca grinned when the girls eyes lit up.

Within ten minutes, both were splayed out on the office floor drawring. Becca had to admit that she was for more enjoying the company of a four year old than she had her living room full of friends who were acting much like four year olds, if the rising laughter and voices were any indication.

Gotta color in the lines, Grace explained, tapping Beccas picture, her crayon having strayed ever so slightly.

Oops. Becca immediately straightened it out, and continued to color. She glanced over at the little girl from time to tome, taking in her facial features and coloring. She could definitely see Alec in her. The bit of Braxton she saw in the girl was saddening, somehow. She wondered if this was as close as shed ever get to the blonde again, coloring with her daughter on the floor. How is your Mommy, Grace? Becca asked, trying to stay nonchalant.

Without missing a color stroke, Grace began to chatter. Shes a drawr! Shes at school.

Right now? Becca teased, earning a goofy grin from the girl.

Noooo! Shes at home!

Ohhhh, Becca drawled, thoroughly chastised by the four year olds tone.

***

Becca smiled, spotting the platinum blonde head as it bobbed above the crowd. Hey! she exclaimed, receiving her aunts crushing hug.

Hey, kid! Releasing a gasping Becca, Barbara grabbed the carry-on bag shed dropped during their hug, then they headed outside into the warm, California air. How are things? Hows the shop?

Booming, Becca said, leading them down a long row in the short-term parking lot, and unlocking her Vette with the remote.

Nice, Barbara drawled, nearly drooling at the beautiful black car. She stowed her bag in the trunk her niece opened for her, then climbed in, grinning as Becca pushed the button to send the ragtop whirring out of sight. With a car like this, Id say Im in the wrong business.

Becca grinned, revving the engine to life, chuckling at her aunts purr of enjoyment. Youre too easy, Aunt B.

Youve gotta let me drive this thing while Im here, the older woman said absently, taking in the plush interior and all the gadgets and toys Becca had installed.

Sure. If you make me your stuffed French toast. With a roar, they headed off into the crazy traffic around LAX.

Barbara was more proud of her niece than she could ever tell her. She walked through the rooms of the small, but very nice bungalow, admiring Beccas taste in décor. This is nice, Bec, she murmured, peeking into Beccas room before turning and beaming at her niece. Youve done well. Very nice.

Thanks. Becca couldnt help but shine with pride and happiness. Her aunt had been there for her when no one else had, not even her own parents. Barbaras opinion meant more to her than anyone. How are your shops going? she asked, leading the way back down the hall toward the kitchen. Barbara and her partner of three years had opened a second Tortured Souls Tattoo shop in Denver little more than a year ago.

Good, the tall blonde said, following Becca. Great, really. I had to hire two more artists. Patty has been back and forth between the two shops.

I figured. Too bad she couldnt come with you.

Barbara was about to respond to that when she stopped suddenly, eyeing the stainless steel door of the large, Subzero fridge. She glanced at a sheepish Becca with a raised brow.

What?

Barbara carefully removed the brightly, and she had to admit, good drawing from under the magnet that had held it captive. Got a kid I dont know about? she drawled.

Becca snatched Graces drawing from her aunts fingers. Gimme that. Lovingly placing it back on the fridge door, she began to make coffee as she explained. Last week Jae had a small get-together here and one of them brought his daughter.

And let me guess, Barbara said, leaning against a counter opposite from where Becca worked. Instead of enjoying the company of the adults, you cloistered yourself away with a five year old.

Four year old, Becca grudgingly corrected. You know I hate parties, Aunt Barbie, she said, turning to replicate Barbaras stance, arms crossed over her chest. Grace is adorable. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, trying to decide if she wanted to tell her aunt who Graces mother was. She wasnt entirely sure Barbara would even remember Braxton.

Barbara studied her niece, and could easily tell something was on her mind. Spit it out.

Becca grinned, unable to ever keep anything from people. Shed been told she had an extremely expressive face and wore her emotions and thoughts on her sleeve. Do you remember the roommate I had when I moved into that house with Carrie, Jared and all them?

Who, Braxton?

Ookay. So she does remember her. Yeah. Grace is her daughter.

Barbara hid her surprise well. She had known since the moment Becca laid eyes on the cute blonde that Becca had been in love. Shed wager that the girl was the only one Becca had ever been in love with. So you two are in communication again, huh?

Becca shook her head, grabbing two mugs down from the glass-fronted cabinets. No. This is a crazy story, so sit down. Within a few moments, Becca had joined her aunt at the table tucked away in a breakfast nook, cups of steaming coffee in front of them. Heres sick irony for you. Graces dad, Alec, and Jae have been friends for years, and weve socialized with him and his boyfriend at my house several times.

And you had no idea who he was, or what he meant to Braxton?

Becca shook her head. Not a one. About three, four weeks ago I was dropping off a load of props to UCLA and BAM! There she was. She was painting a flat for the scenery. God, she turned and looked at me

 Becca blew out a breath, amazed that she could still recall the feeling that had washed over her in that moment.

Did you talk to her? Barbara asked, stirring a bit more cream into the strong brew.

Becca gave her a sheep grin. No. I had to get out of there. A swarm of students got between us, so I took off. Becca expected her aunt to laugh at her, tease her, anything other than the serious look that overtook her strong features.

Honey, how do you expect to find happiness if you run every time it presents itself? She set her cup aside and took one of Beccas hands. Rarely affectionate with her, she knew this would tell her niece just how serious she was. This girl came into your life eight years ago, and she stole your heart. Her glare cut off what Becca was about to say. She continued. It wasnt the right time, I dont think for either of you. That much is true. But, you didnt try for it. Didnt keep in touch, didnt even so much as say goodbye.

Becca looked away, knowing her aunt was right, and angry at her for it. I was very young, B, she said, turning burning eyes on the older woman. I hardly knew my ass from a hole in the ground, let alone what my heart was feeling.

I know, Barbara said conversationally, trying to bring Beccas rising temper down. And what about now? Youre thirty-four years old, successful in your business with Brian. Have a beautiful home, she indicated the room around her. Youve got a good life, Rebecca. Dont you think its time to fill it with love, too?

I have love, Becca grumbled stubbornly. She heard her aunts snort and met her gaze. What? I do.

With Jae? Barbaras skepticism was plain. Honey, thats not love when you wait with bated breath until shes gone on another out of town shoot, as youve said in many of your emails.

Ive always needed my space, Aunt Barbara, Becca said, defensive. I dont see looking forward to alone time as a bad thing. Everyone needs their alone time.

Alone time is when Jae goes home at night. Alone time is you guys take the weekend off from each other. Alone time isnt when she goes off for four months to shoot in Prague!

Becca blushed, picking at the material of her shorts. Yeah, well



Yeah, well nothing! You need to get rid of the makeup girl, get your damn hair back to its normal color  thank god you didnt let her go fuschia again  and allow yourself real love.

Its not that easy.

Why not? Barbara got up and grabbed the coffee pot, refilling her cup and warming up Beccas.

Because. There isnt anyone in my life that Id exactly say I was in love with. Or, would you prefer I just step out into town, grab the first woman I see, and declare my undying affections?

Barbaras glare stopped Becca in her self-amused tracks. I cant believe your eyes arent brown, youre so full of shit.

Becca could only stare, all amusement gone from her eyes.

Part 23

That is the ugliest set of sheets Ive ever seen, Becca complained, looking down at the purple material with red, green and yellow spirals all over them. It looks like someone threw up on a grape.

Jae snickered. Guess thats why youre not the artist, huh? she said, brows raised in challenge. Theyre a wonderful mix of color, shape and texture.

Becca rolled her eyes, walking further along in the department store, running her fingers over the soft material of folded bath towels that came in every color under the rainbow. A beautiful candle caught her eye and she walked over to it, running her fingers over the sculpted wax, marveling at the art. Her head popped up when she heard soft crying. More like a soulful moan than all out sobs.

She turned to look at Jae over her shoulder, the makeup artist still involved in looking at sheet patterns. Do you hear that? she asked, looking around, trying to locate the source.

Jae looked up, did a quick sweep over the department with her eyes, then turned back to the sheets.

Becca walked over toward the house wares area, looking down each aisle before she spotted a little girl curled up on the floor in the dishes aisle. Walking toward her, Beccas breath caught when she realized it was Grace.

Hey, sweetie, she said softly, kneeling in front of the girl. Big, tear-filled green eyes looked hopefully up at her. Are you okay?

Graces bottom lip trembled. I cant find my Mommy, she sobbed, arms reaching up to Becca.

A tenderness flowed through Becca that shed never experienced before as she grabbed the girl and lifted her. The thin arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Shh. Its okay, sweetheart. Well find your Mommy. As Becca said the words, she looked around, heart hammering in her chest as she knew this meant shed be coming face to face with Braxton.

What happened? Jae asked, walking up to them.

Shes lost, Becca said quietly, pushing up to her tip toes to see over the displays, trying to locate the familiar blonde.

One of the store clerks walked down the main aisle, her head looking down each one she passed. She saw the small group and walked over to them. You guys seen a little girl? She looked at Grace. Is this her?

Becca nodded. Yeah. I know her. This is Grace.

The clerk was relieved as she brought a small walkie talkie to her mouth and muttered into it. Good. Her mom was freaking out pretty bad.

Within moments there was a commotion heading their way. Braxton was panicked as she entered the aisle, taking Grace from Becca without even realizing who she stood next to.

Dont you ever do that again, she lectured, holding Grace to her, hand on the back of the girls head.

Becca almost felt as though she were intruding upon something very private between mother and daughter. She was about to turn away when green eyes were focused on her, and they werent Graces.

You found her? Braxton asked quietly. At Beccas nod, Braxton physically relaxed, swaying gently with Graces head resting on her shoulder. Thank you.

She drawred with me, Grace said, pointing at Becca.

Braxton looked between the two with a bemused smile on her face. Honey, you werent lost long enough to have done that.

Alec brought her to my house for a get-together, Becca explained, her heart pounding as she took in Braxtons face. She had calmed, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail for a lazy day shopping. Her shorts revealed muscled, beautifully shaped legs.

Braxton was utterly baffled by, first of all, seeing Becca holding her daughter, and secondly learning that Grace had been to her house. You know Alec? she finally managed.

He and I have been friends for a long time, Jae piped up with a wide grin.

Braxton met Jaes eyes, then back to Becca, silently asking.

Braxton, this is Jae. Jae, this is Braxton. Graces mom.

Jae looked Braxton up and down, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips. Damn. Alec was right. You are hot.

Braxton colored slightly, murmuring a thank you. Embarrassed by Jaes behavior, Becca tried to change the subject. You look good, Braxton. Its been a long time. Her mouth was dry as a desert, her heart still racing. She absently wiped sweaty palms on the thighs of her shorts.

It has. And so do you, Braxton said, taking in the gorgeous woman before her. She couldnt help but feel a shrill of jealousy as the colorful woman standing with Becca placed her hand on Beccas ass, hooking her fingers in the back pocket of her shorts. Braxtons eyes flicked up to meet Beccas, which looked away in discomfort. Well, um, thanks again. She kissed Graces head. Unsure what to do or say, Braxton smiled, then turned and walked out of the aisle. She heard heavy footfalls hurry after her.

Wait! Becca called, hurrying to catch up, and leaving a confused, unamused Jae behind. Braxton stopped and turned to face her. Its really good to see you, Braxton, she said lamely, unsure what to say, but knowing that she really needed to say something, anything.

You, too, Becca. A surprise, I have to admit.

You work at the school, then? Becca asked, knowing full well the answer, but she wanted to broach the subject. After her aunt had lectured her, she realized she had been a coward that day.

Braxton nodded, absently rubbing her daughters back. Yeah. Im with the Art Department. We were helping out with the Drama Departments set.

It looked great. Really cool.

Thanks. Braxton beamed, as she was particularly proud of her students on that one. What were you doing there? Are you a student?

Oh, no. Becca smiled shyly. My brother Brian and I own B&B Prop Shop. That was our chariot everyone was drooling over.

Ive heard of you. Thats fantastic! Braxtons eyes danced with her pleasure at hearing of Beccas success. Everyone in L.A. knew of B&Bs. So, you keep pretty busy, then?

Yeah. Becca nodded far more vigorously than she needed to, but felt she needed to in some way explain her very sudden disappearing act that day in the theater. Gotta keep going, you know? She buried her hands into her back pockets.

Yeah, I do know. Listen, thank you for finding her. I honestly dont think Ive ever been so scared in my life. Braxton rested her cheek against her daughters head, which still rested on her shoulder.

Becca shrugged. Its not a problem. She get away from you?

Braxton nodded. Shes tired. This is her normal nap time. She had plopped down to rest while I was shopping, and I guess I just didnt realize it until it was too late, and shed disappeared.

Shes a really cute kid. I cant imagine how afraid you must have been. Im glad it turned out this way. Becca smiled at the seemingly lethargic child who was beginning to suck on her thumb. Shes really beautiful, Braxton, she said softly, meeting Braxtons gaze.

Thank you, Braxton said just as softly. Shes the center of my world. Id be lost without her. She noticed the other woman beginning to look impatient back in the aisle theyd all been moments before. Well. Guess Id better let you get back to your



Jae, Becca said, for some unknown reason unable to say girlfriend. She didnt want Braxton to think she had one, and that bothered her no small bit.

Jae. Right. Braxton smiled quickly, then turned to leave again. It was great to see you, Becca. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

You, too. Becca watched Braxton and Grace walk away, and for some reason, she felt an incredible sadness settle over her.

Braxton drove around aimlessly, Grace asleep buckled in the backseat. The blondes mind was scattered in a million different directions, all centering on and leading to Becca. Her world had been far more rattled than she was comfortable with, seeing her in the store. She had pretty much boiled that day on the stage to a chance encounter in a huge city, and it was likely never to happen again.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, she looked at her daughter. She could still recall the twinkle and excitement in Graces eyes when she looked at Becca, and said that they had drawred together, which in Graces world translated to colored. Why had Becca taken time out for such a kindness? And who the hell was Jae? Braxton was surprised to feel her jealousy return, followed by a wave of anger at the womans ogling. Who the hell did she think she was? Beccas girlfriend, thats who, Braxton answered her own question. It was obvious by Jaes subtle possession that they had an intimate relationship. How serious was it? How long had they been together? How did they meet? Why should I care?

Braxton lead a sleepy Grace into the house, the girl grumpy from her interrupted sleep. Little one tucked safely in bed for her afternoon nap, Braxton headed back out to the car, unloading everything and beginning to put things away. Her cell phone chirped to life, so as she cut tags off the new clothing shed bought for Grace, she flipped it open.

Hello?

Hey, Alec said, his voice at its usual chipper levels.

Hi. Whats up? Braxton said absently, using her teeth on a particularly stubborn plastic tag holder.

You home? I need to talk.

Sure. Just got here, actually. Come on over. Ill make some lunch.

***

Becca kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, one hand dangling out the open window, the other gripping the steering wheel of her Durango. Her thoughts were firmly planted to an hour ago, reliving the events that led her to being once again in the presence of Braxton Crowley. Only distantly did she hear Jae singing along with the radio, or feel the firm hand resting on her thigh. She barely felt the warm air rushing in over her face.

So, whats the deal with the blonde? Jae asked at length, her own thoughts on Braxton. When she got no response, she glanced over at a moody Becca. Hey. She slapped her thigh to get her attention. When somewhat-cloudy blue eyes were looking at her, she asked her question again. Whos Braxton?

I knew her a long time ago, Becca said, turning her attention back to the traffic before them.

Were you lovers?

Becca wasnt entirely sure how to answer that question, nor if she wanted to share that with Jae. Shed always seen her time with Braxton as special, something shed tucked away in her heart and hadnt shared with anyone else. She decided on a half-truth. We were roommates eight years ago. Lived in a big house with three other people.

You liked her, didnt you? Jae asked, head slightly cocked to the side. She hadnt seen her normally stoic girlfriend react quite like that to anyone. It made her nervous.

Back then, yeah, Becca answered truthfully. Still only telling a half-truth.

Shes beautiful. She studied Beccas reaction to that comment. She had a strange feeling of jealousy-laced dread lance through her. Something deep inside told her that she needed to grab Becca with both hands and make sure Beccas attention stayed where it should be. What are your thoughts on moving in together? she asked nonchalantly.

Beccas stomached roiled at the question. She swallowed a few times before answering, not wanting to hurt Jaes feelings. Jae, weve talked about this before.

Yeah, and I want to talk about it again. Now.

Why? Becca spared a glance to the woman in the passenger seat, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. My thoughts havent changed.

What if mine have?

Becca grinned. Then you dont want to live together? Cause, if I recall, you were the one who always did.

Jae sighed, irritated. Damn it, Becca, what if I want to move our relationship forward? Weve been together for two years. I feel stagnant.

Becca felt anger born of guilt start to bubble to the surface. Well, if you feel so damn stagnant, then maybe you should do whatever it is that will make you happy, Jae. The makeup artist could only stare at Beccas harsh words. Feeling terrible, Becca reached down and covered Jaes hand with her own. Im sorry. That wasnt right.

I dont know whats gotten into you over the past couple months, Becca. Its almost like youre not interested in anything I do. You dont join our friends when they come over. When you do, you look like youd rather be anywhere else. Youre constantly distracted. She paused, gauging the taller womans reaction to her outburst. When there was none, she sighed. You seem unhappy.

Becca thought about Jaes words, chewing on them and trying not to choke on the bitter taste. Let me ask you then. If you can see this, and youre obviously not happy, then why would you want to move in together?

Jae sighed again, looking out her window as they neared her neighborhood. Because I dont want to lose you, Becca. Im trying to do anything that will make you happy and content.

What if youre the problem, Jae? Becca said nothing. Instead, she pulled up in front of Jaes condo. She killed the engine and was about to climb out of the SUV.

No. Ill get my stuff out, Jae said, slamming the passenger door closed after climbing out. She opened the hatch, grabbing her packages, and closing the door hard enough to rock the truck.

Shit, Becca muttered, pulling away from the curb and headed home.

***

Braxton finished off her iced tea, rising to refill her glass and top off Alecs. He sat at the table, Grace sitting in his lap. They were playing the poking game. Braxton wasnt sure who was giggling louder, the four year old or her twenty-nine year old father.

Sitting back down, Braxton added sugar to her tea, stirring as she began to speak. So, what were Mels reasons for breaking it off? she asked, returning the conversation to the whole reason Alec had come over in the first place.

Alec got Grace calmed down, putting her on the floor so she could run off and play. He took a long drink from his own tea, turning his full attention back to Braxton. He said he didnt want children.

Braxton cringed. She could imagine how much that had hurt Alec, as she knew how much he loved his daughter. Well, Id say youre better off without him then, Alec. He obviously doesnt have the heart you thought he did. I mean, who couldnt love Grace?

Alec smiled. I agree. He sighed, still hurting from the unexpected blow. This sucks. After a moment, he sat back in his chair, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.

What are your thoughts on Jae and Becca? Braxton asked, taking Alec by surprise.

What?

I met Jae today. And Becca, she said quietly, looking down into her tea.

Something was up. What about them? Were they rude to you or something? Becca was absolutely awesome with Grace, Braxton. There shouldnt be-

Its not that. I used to know Becca a long time ago. Braxton sighed. I wasnt expecting to run into her today. I actually saw her weeks ago at school. Guess she was dropping off some props for the production.

Alec watched his ex carefully. Her usual cool exterior had been shaken. How did it go? he asked carefully. One wrong question and Braxton would close up tighter than Fort Knox.

Good. It was good to see her again. Braxton traced a wood grain on the table top. So, how long have Becca and Jae been together?

Alec hid his smile. Braxton wasnt very good at attempted subtlety. Two years.

Braxton felt a pang of disappointment, and surprise. When she hadnt known any better, she had thought from the way Becca acted with Jae that their romance was fairly new. Oh.

Beccas great. Quiet. I dont know her all that well. Jae is actually my friend, but whenever were over Beccas, she usually disappears somewhere.

So, Becca and Jae dont live together? Braxton got up and grabbed a package of Oreos, suddenly crazing something sweet.

Nope. Alec grabbed one of the cookies, swiftly taking it apart and eating it in pieces. I know Jae wants to, but Becca wont do it.

Why not? Craving a glass of milk, and knowing that Alec was a dunker, she got them both small glasses.

Personally I think its because Becca knows theyre wrong for each other.

Really? Braxton leaned her elbow on the table, head resting against her hand as she lazily bit into her cookie. Why?

Because Jae is more about having fun in life. Shes spontaneous and can be somewhat flighty. Becca, from what Ive seen, is more settled. Shes quiet, and I think would rather spend a night snuggling in front of the fire then having friends over. He shrugged. Thats just not Jae.

If theyre so different, why did they end up together? Why have they stayed together?

Alec shrugged again. I think Jae truly cares about Becca. Shes tried to change her, make her more social. As for Becca, I have no idea. He caught Braxton gaze with is own intense one. Maybe she just hasnt found the right woman. He got the reaction he was after when Braxtons eyes dropped. Bingo.

***

Becca glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand, looking at each of the doors that lined the confusing hallways. She glanced longingly at the window that looked down at the campus two stories below. She snapped to attention, almost able to hear her aunt yelling at her and calling her a coward. Taking several deep breaths, she checked her watch, and hoped that she wasnt busy.

Finding room 212B, Becca glanced in through the rectangle of glass, which allowed her to see inside the large classroom, filled with standing easels. Shelves lined the walls, filled with art supplies. But what caught Beccas gaze was the figure standing off in the corner at one of the easels, quietly painting.

The door squeaked slightly as it was pushed open, Becca stepping inside the room. She could smell paint and paint thinner, and any number of other art must. The blonde in the corner glanced over her shoulder to see who had joined her.

Braxton was surprised, her heart beginning to race as she watched Becca walk toward her. Hi. Braxton set her brush down, wiping her hands on the paper towel that was already paint-splattered. This is a surprise.

Yeah, I know. I, uh, Becca tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Ive been threatened with my life if I didnt invite you to dinner with me and Aunt Barbara.

Oh yeah? Braxton said, amused.

Yeah. Becca rubbed the back of her neck nervously. I kinda mentioned I ran into you last week, and B is visiting, so



Ah. I see. Braxton was amused, and greatly pleased. Can I bring Grace?

Id personally be really bummed if you didnt. Becca grinned.

Braxton studied her, head slightly cocked to the side. She stood in front of a window, some of her golden hair escaping her braid. Becca thought she looked like an angel. Alright. When?

How about tomorrow night? Seven?

Braxton thought quickly to her own schedule, and nodded, as that would work great. Okay. Where?

Becca quickly wrote down her address and directions on the piece of paper with Braxtons classroom number. Here you go. She handed it over, Braxton briefly glancing at it before returning her gaze to Beccas.

Alright. Ill come.

Part 24

Aunt B, you are so full of crap! Becca said, arms crossed over her chest. You did not kiss Joan Jett in a Dallas hotel lobby.

The older blonde stared her niece down. You wanna bet?

Braxton was far too amused. She looked back and forth between the two. Come on, Barbara, tell us what happened.

Sure, honey, Ill tell ya. But first this ones gotta stop glaring at me.

Becca, behave, Braxton said, her Mommy voice in full swing, which sent Barbara into another peal of laughter. She hadnt had this much fun sober in years!

Knowing when she was outnumbered, Becca grunted an intelligible agreement, then gave her attention back to her aunt. Come on, oh wise one. Fill us in.

Careful or youll find out just how wise I can be Barbara warned, pointing a finger at Becca. Braxton grinned at the exchange, wishing so badly that her mother could be with them. Okay, so heres the story. It was me and my cousin Frank, and wed gone to the concert. Now, I had told him I was gay, but did he believe me? Hell no. So, I says, okay, lets go to the hotel where Joan is staying, and Ill prove it to ya!. Well, Frank is dumber than a stump, but he agrees.

Braxton sat forward slightly in her seat, spellbound. She could see the doubtful expression on Beccas face from the corner of her eye. She threw her balled up napkin at the brunette, getting a glare in return.

Thank you, Braxton. I knew I liked you for a reason, Barbara said with a charming smile before returning to her story. Anyhow, so were there, and lo and behold! She comes in, and I swear Ill never forget this: black leather pants, one of them shredded shirts, and red high tops. Barbaras eyes closed with a soft moan. Both Becca and Braxton laughed. I walked right up to her in my nineteen year old stupidity, grabbed her and laid one on her!

No! Braxton exclaimed, thoroughly amused.

Oh, yes! Barbara assured.

Did she have you tossed out on your ass? Becca asked, words dripping with sarcasm.

No, as a matter of fact she kissed me back. Barbaras tone was proud and victorious. She was chewing gum, which I was nice enough to let her keep.

Braxton burst into laughter, nearly falling out of her chair, which sent the other two off. Wiping her eyes, she looked at the older blonde, shaking her head in wonderment. Damn, that took guts.

It sure did. Cant believe I wasnt arrested.

What did she do after? Becca asked, entranced now.

She kept going the way she was headed when I grabbed her. Probably wasnt the first or the last time that happened to her.

Braxton quickly sobered when she saw the time. Becca, let me help you clean this up. I need to get Grace home and in bed. Shes already fallen asleep in there.

How do you know? Barbara asked, beginning to help clear the table.

Because shes not singing with Belle anymore.

Braxton, youre my guest. I dont want your help, Becca said, meeting the blonde by the sink and trying to take the stack of plates from her.

Dont touch, Braxton said, swatting at Beccas hand. Mine. She placed them in the sink and promptly began to rinse them before loading them into the dishwasher.

Barbara watched, amused as she caught her nieces gaze. Her grin widened at the look of frustration she saw there.

Becca walked Braxton and Grace out, carrying all of Graces coloring books and packs of crayons as her mother carried the sleeping child. Braxton got Grace tucked into her car seat and closed the car door as quietly as possible.

Thanks, she said, taking all of Graces things from Becca.

No problem. Thanks for coming. Youve saved me from a beating. Becca grinned, hitching a thumb back toward her house and her aunt.

Oh, Im sure you could take care of yourself. Braxton leaned back against the side of her car, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her jeans.

Yeah, well. Thanks for bringing Grace, too. Shes a really precious little girl.

Braxton beamed. Thank you, Becca. Im so glad you can appreciate and enjoy a four year old. Few can. She grinned.

Im sure. Guess it helps still being a child myself. They both chuckled softly, then were silent, not sure what to say as the night chirped around them. Finally Braxton broke the silence.

Youve seen where I work-twice. When do I get to see this amazing warehouse of yours? Ive heard its quite the place to be.

Its an experience, thats for sure, Becca agreed, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. Its taken us a long time, but Im really proud of what Brian and I have managed to do.

Braxtons smile was genuine and soft. Im so proud of you, Becca. Youve really done something special with your life, and the fact that youve reconciled with your family. Its truly wonderful.

Feeling shy and more than a little sheepish, Becca kicked at the ground with the toe of her shoe. Thanks. My father and oldest brother still wont speak to me, but for the most part, she shrugged, Im happy.

Where was Jae tonight? Braxton blurted, immediately feeling stupid for it. Im sorry. Thats absolutely none of my business.

Becca wasnt sure whether to be embarrassed or jump for joy that Braxton cared enough to ask. She was surprised by the seemingly embarrassed coloring of her cheeks, though it was hard to tell if it was even really there from the darkness surrounding them. I didnt invite her, she said simply. It was the truth, though she wasnt ready to tell Braxton that she hadnt invited her girlfriend because Braxton was going to be there. She did need to offer up some sort of explanation, though. I wanted to have a nice, quiet dinner with you, Grace and my aunt. When Jaes around, its never quiet.

Braxton didnt miss the somewhat bitter note in Beccas voice, but decided not to comment. Well, then you must have done the right thing, because it was a lot of fun. And quiet. The twinkle in Braxtons eyes told of her teasing.

Yes it was. Becca looked up into the night sky and knew it was getting late. She didnt want Braxton to go, but she could see Grace passed out in the backseat, her head at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle. I guess I should go in. Grace looks like shell have one hell of a kink in her neck tomorrow.

Braxton followed the taller womans gaze an briefly looked at her daughter, yet again overcome with tenderness and love. I suppose so. Again, thank you for tonight. It was a blast.

Becca was surprise when suddenly she found herself with an armful of Braxton. She hugged her back, squeezing tightly before letting her go in the time that propriety set. She watched as Braxton walked around the front of the car to the drivers side, gave her one final wave, then disappeared inside the car. The headlights flicked on followed by the engine. Within moments Becca was watching as the red taillights disappeared into the darkness.

***

Margot brushed heavily graying hair out of her face as she shuffled back towards her cell, a correctional officer by her side. She felt numb, her emotions still trying to reconcile with what was just told her. She looked around her, seeing the stark, painted cinderblock walls around her, the dull gray paint that covered the railings and tables scattered around her pod.

You doing okay, Crowley? her guard asked.

Margot nodded dumbly, not sure really. She slipped inside her cell, glad that her cellie wasnt home. She needed time to think and time to absorb. Looking around her side of the small space, she saw all of the drawings her granddaughter had done, including all the photographs of Grace and Braxton that Braxton had sent. A smile came to her cracked lips at the images, and tears began to sting behind her eyes.

Im going home, she whispered.

***

Braxton looked up at the massive structure before her as she stepped out of her car. She couldnt help but smile, pride warming her when she saw the big, bold: B&B PROP SHOP sign above the door.

Inside a security guard stood when she walked in, waiting for her to state her business. Hi. My name is Braxton Crowley. Im a friend of Beccas. Id like to see her.

Just a moment, Miss Crowley. The officer grabbed the receiver of a phone and dialed, speaking into it. After a moment he cradled the receiver, and pointed toward a large, heavy metal door, which he buzzed for her. Stepping through the door was like stepping through into a fantasy land.

Walking further inside, she turned in a small circle, taking in the horseless carriage that looked like something from Cinderella to her left, the mannequins standing guard, dressed in full military uniform from all four branches, then uniforms that drifted back in time from that of a Civil War era soldier, to the Revolution, to a knight in shining armor.

You like it?

Braxton whirled, seeing Becca leaning against the railing of the second floor, watching the blonde with an amused expression on her face. This is incredible, Becca.

Becca quickly made her way down the metal flight of stairs until she reached the awed blonde. Good. Glad you like it. What are you doing here? She couldnt suppress her joy at seeing Braxton.

Ive come to say hello and to see your prop shop. So, hello.

Becca nearly melted at the charming smile she received, and couldnt help but return one of her won. Howdy. How has your day gone?

Good. I have no afternoon classes today, so figured it was the perfect time to drop in.

And Im glad that you did. Come on-Ill give you the grand tour. She led the way toward the office where Brian was sitting behind the desk, chicken-pecking away at the keyboard. Bri, Ill be out of commission for a little while, Becca said, leaning in the doorway.

Her younger brother looked up, mouth still hanging open from his seconds ago concentration. Huh? Oh, okay. He eyed Braxton behind his sister. Whos this?

Brian, Id like you to meet Braxton, an old friend of mine. Weve just recently re-connected. Braxton, this is m brother and business partner, Brian.

Great to meet you, Brian, Braxton said, taking his offered hand in shake.

Right back atcha. Brian gave her the Steiner grin that had melted many a womans heart.

Im going to show her around the place, and we may grab some lunch, so

 Becca said, her brother nodding in full understanding. She turned back to Braxton. Ready?

Lets do it.

They wondered through the aisles of wigs, accessories and shoes, Becca pointing to various ones and explaining which film theyd appeared in, or which actor and actress had donned them. She showed her the row upon row of various types of facial hair pieces.

They had worked their way up from the bottom floor, where all the larger pieces were: chariots, carriages, cars and building parts. Now, they made their way up to the third floor, which was a particular favorite of Beccas.

This is where we keep all of our costumes. I keep them together by era. So, she clapped her hands together, shall we take a little trip in a time machine?

Braxton nodded vigorously, absolutely charmed by what shed seen, and by Beccas obvious excitement to show her around, and what shed accomplished.

The space was massive, but it was broken up by hanging black material that separated the various eras, almost creating their own place in time. The first one consisted of more of the ancient, stone-age costumes. Lots of fur and animals skins, a more raw leather look. Boots, hats, fur capes and leggings.

Oh wow, Becca, Braxton said, walking along the racks and items that were hung or draped over mannequins. This is amazing.

Thanks. Its kind of creepy up here at night, though.

Oh, I bet! Braxton said, holding up a caveman club and waving it menacingly. She saw the free-standing mirror and jumped in front of it, grunting and pounding her chest dramatically, waving the club. She could hear Beccas laughter from behind her, which only spurred on her behavior. Me Tarzan! she exclaimed. Booga, booga!

Becca hurried over to one of the racks and grabbed a fur throw, placing it over Braxtons shoulders, adding to the experience. Braxton turned back to the mirror, looking at herself, face scrunched up in a fierce caveman look.

Alright, Caveman Joe. Come on, theres lots more to see.

Braxton, relieved of her furs, was led deeper into the labyrinth of clothing and costumes. She was frozen in time when they hit the dresses, coifs, wire circlets, tunics, hose and rolled hats.

Wow, Braxton whispered, running her hands over the fine material of the dresses. These are incredible. Im surprised most productions dont just make their own costumes.

Many do, Becca said, straightening a couple dressed on hangers that had gone askew. But, it gets expensive to make them for any extras or more minor characters. A lot of times productions will either sell or donate their made dresses to us, and then we rent them to either productions with smaller budgets, or for extras. It works great.

How wonderful for you guys, Becca. You should really be proud of yourself.

Becca met Braxtons gaze, and for a moment felt lost in the green depths. She quickly turned away, afraid of the intense emotions that were flooding her. She was afraid to feel them, and afraid that Braxton would see them. Well, I hardly think Ive accomplished as much as you have.

Braxton smiled. I dont think its a race, Becca. Weve both come a long way. Just know that Im proud of you.

Becca was touched, and she wanted Braxton to know that. She walked over to her and hugged her. Her eyes closed when she felt the petit woman return the embrace. They stood like that for a long time, neither ready to relinquish the exquisite warmth and softness of the other.

Braxton was amazed when she felt her world right itself. She inhaled the fragrance that was Becca, which was so familiar to her. It filled her with memories and warmth. How was it that she felt so safe with Becca? She always had. She could remember back when she had the nightmares after the accident, and how many times Becca had come into her room to wake her then hold her. It was only then that Braxton knew everything was truly going to be okay, and that the monster couldnt get her anymore.

I really missed you after you left, she said softly, her cheek resting against Beccas shoulder.

Beccas eyes squeezed shut at the memory of her own loss. Im sorry. I had to go.

I know. After a moment, You know, after you were gone, the nightmares started to come back again. I think they knew that you werent there anymore to protect me.

The words were spoken so softly, so wistfully that Becca felt her heart break. Im so sorry, Braxton. I didnt mean to let you down. She wanted to pull away, but something compelled her to stay put. Instead of pulling away, she gently caressed the long, cool strands of gold that flowed down Braxtons back.

Braxton relished the affection, something she so rarely got, except from her daughter. You didnt let me down. It was a difficult time for both of us, Becca. I know that, and I knew that then.

As much as Becca wanted to hold onto Braxton forever, she knew that wasnt possible. She let her go with an encouraging smile, which Braxton returned. Come on. Let me show you more.

As they wandered through the myriad of outfits and centuries, Becca decided to ask questions. So, how did you and Alec end up together? Well, at least sharing a child, anyway.

Braxton smirked. Its funny, actually. I met him pretty much right away in New York, and we hit it off. I was alone in a very big city, and he was great. We became friends, decided to date, and then became parents.

Becca glanced at her with raised brows. You didnt know he was gay?

I know, I know. Trust me, I know. I guess it just didnt really dawn on me. He was so wonderful and sweet, very sensitive. Had great ideas for style. She laughed. Its funny, but I guess I just didnt think in those terms. I did, however, notice that when we were dating, she brought her fingers up in quote marks, it wasnt all that different from when were just friends. Neither of us seemed to push for anything more, anything physical. When we were finally together, it was a crazy, spontaneous moment that was essentially a mistake, though Ill never see it fully as one, since thats how I got my little Grace girl.

Wow. Quite the story. Becca stopped their tour, leaning against a wall, hands buried in her hip pockets. Braxton took a similar pose as she leaned against one of the clothing racks, filled with corsets. Did you and Alec stay together?

Braxton shook her head. No. He finally came out, though I hate to think I drove him out. They both laughed. I kept going with school, then had to concentrate on my career and raising my daughter.

So you never dated? Had a boyfriend?

Braxton shook her head. Too busy. But what about you?

Becca felt unease settle over her. She didnt want to talk about her love life, especially not with Braxton. I dated off and on for awhile, never anything serious. Then Jae.

Which is

? Braxton urged.

Becca smiled. I dont know. I dont think of us as serious, but weve been together  which I use in the loosest sense of the word  for two years. She wants to take it a step further, but I dont.

Why not? Braxton fingers the fine satin lacings of a whale bone corset near her. She felt a bit uneasy talking about this, but wanted to know.

I dont know. I think were just too different. We dont want the same things in life. Ive had my days of fun, and dont want that anymore. Getting drunk on any given night isnt something thats high on my list of priorities, if its there at all. She does. Things like that. Theyre small things that add up after awhile.

Braxton was about to respond but the sound of her phone cut her off. She pulled it out of her purse and flipped it open to see who was calling. Its my mom, hang on a sec.

Do you want me to leave?

Braxton shook her head as she answered the call. Hello?… Yes, Ill accept the call

Mom? Hi. Why are you calling in the middle of the day? I thought you only could on Sunday- Braxton listened, her face telegraphing everything she was feeling from what she heard. Her eyes grew big, mouth falling at the same time. She looked as though she were ready to smile, laugh and cry all at once. Okay. Ill be there.

Becca waited while Braxton snapped her phone shut, her hands trembling as she slipped it back down into her bag. Everything okay?

Braxtons gaze reached Beccas, her eyes watering. Shes being paroled.

Becca felt her heart rate pick up, happiness for Braxton and Margot washing through her. It brought back to mind the day she was released, and the happiness mixed with fear that accompanied such wondrous news. Oh, Braxton, she said, her voice husky from her own emotions.

God, I feel so strange. Im not sure whether to cry, dance, scream or try and fly, Braxton exclaimed.

Becca grinned. Well, you can do all but try and fly here. She was started as a scream of excitement burst from the smaller woman, followed by loud laughter.

I cant believe it. Oh, I cant believe it. She hurried over to Becca, throwing her arms around her neck and squeezing almost painfully tight. Im so excited!

Im happy for you, Braxton, Becca gushed. This is wonderful news! They parted just enough to look at each other. Youve got to celebrate. When do you go get her?

Shes out on the twelfth of the month. I need to make flight reservations today. OH god, she breathed, hands trembling again as she tried unsuccessfully dig her phone out of her bag again. She stopped at the warm touch on her arm.

Calm down for a second. You look like youre about to shake apart. Becca brushed a few strands of gold out of Braxtons face that had fallen in her excitement.

I cant believe this, Becca. She has waited so long for this. And shell get to see Grace!

Becca smiled, the energy pouring from the blonde contagious.

I need to go. Im so sorry to cut this short. Ive had so much fun with you today, and seeing your wonderful prop house. Braxton took hold of both Beccas hands. Thank you. Can we do this again? I want to see the rest of it.

Of course we can! Becca gave Braxton another quick hug then began to lead her back through the maze and to the ground floor. Are you sure youre okay to drive? she asked, standing outside of Braxtons car.

Yeah. Ill be okay. Braxton took a long, cleansing breath before letting it go. Ill call you soon, okay?

Becca nodded, watching as the blonde tucked herself into her car and pulled away from the building. Shaking her head with a mile-wide smile, she headed back inside.

Part 25

Grace winced as she was given yet another kiss. To show her discontent, she wiped it off. Mommy!

Ignoring her daughters protests, Braxton stood to face Alec, Grace between them. Are you sure its not a problem? Youre not going to be out on the prowl to find a new man, are you?

Alec didnt even bother to respond, instead his brow raised, arms crossed over his chest.

I know, I know. Im being ridiculous. I just hate to leave her. Braxton sighed, reaching down and caressing the girls head. I better go. She fell to her knees. Give Mommy a hug, honey.

Grace indulged her mother, again, and hugged her. She was soon giggling and squealing as her mother laid dozens of tiny kisses on her neck with a growl.

Braxton pulled back and smiled at the four year old. I love you, honey. Ill be back day after tomorrow, okay?

Why cant I go? the girl pouted.

Because Mommy has to do something, sweetheart. But, she said, playfully tapping Graces nose. Ill bring Grandma back. Okay?

Grace nodded. She didnt like it, but it would have to do. Her mother stood as her father placed a protective hand on her shoulders.

Thanks so much, Alec. Ill call. Braxton leaned forward, kissing her ex on the lips, then turned and left his house. Her mind was already spinning as she climbed into her car, thinking of all the things she needed to do. Her flight was set to leave the following morning out of LAX, landing in COS in Colorado Springs. From there, shed grab her rental car and drive the forty-five minutes to Canon City and the home of her mother for the past eight years.

As Braxton headed to the airport, she thought for not the first time, that she had asked Becca to go with her. She hadnt because it just didnt seem appropriate, somehow. A family dinner and tour of Beccas warehouse didnt exactly make them close friends again. But, she craved the safety and stability that she felt around Becca. This was an exciting thing to do, picking up Margot from prison, but also a scary thing. She hadnt seen her mother in almost five years, having visited when she was pregnant. What would she see? How would her mother react? Would she be the same woman shed seen in that courtroom so long ago?

With a sigh, Braxton found a place to park in long-term parking, and gathered her bags.

***

Was it bad to get bored during sex? Was it bad to wish to be anywhere else, doing anything but? Becca tried to keep her sigh in, feeling Jaes tongue on her, and unable to feel it. She could tell Jae was getting frustrated, so she threw herself into orgasm mode just to get it over with. She hated lying, faking the whole thing, but it was sometimes  all too often lately  a necessity.

Jae climbed back up her body, kissing random spots before settling next to her. You bothered by something tonight? she asked, holding her head up in the palm of her hand.

Just have a lot on my mind, Becca said, glancing over at her. Sorry. Had a hard time concentrating.

I could tell. She wiped her chin and cheeks with her hand, wiping the slick wetness on her own naked thigh. I could bottle this stuff, sell it as the ultimate lotion.

Becca grimaced. Thats gross.

Alec has Grace for a couple days, Jae said conversationally, running a finger along the delicate line of Beccas collarbone.

Yeah. Guess she didnt take her with her to Colorado. Becca hadnt realized shed spoken her thoughts until she saw a stab of jealousy flicker through Jaes eyes. Uh, Braxton dropped by B&B the other day. She immediately groaned internally as Jae sat up in the bed, the moonlight illuminating her skin as she did.

Oh?

Jae, stop. It was nothing. She wanted to see the warehouse.

Thats cool, Jae said with a feigned shrug of indifference. Why did she go back to Colorado?

Becca thought for a moment, wondering if Braxton would want her mothers story to be revealed to a perfect stranger. She yet again settled on a half-truth. She went to get her mother and bring her here.

So, I was thinking about the 4th of July, Jae began. Are you going to go with me to my parents house again?

Jae, why are you thinking about July when were barely in April?

Jae didnt want to admit that she was asking about an event in the future because she wasnt so sure she and Becca would still be together. Perhaps if she were able to nail her girlfriend down to something that was three months down the line, somehow theyd still be together for that day. She knew it was childish and sighed. I guess I just want to make myself believe well still be together, Becca. If you agree to go with me, that means you think we have a future. At least three months down the road, anyway.

Becca met the pained gaze of the makeup artist and felt a pang of guilt. She was obviously putting that uncertainty in her eyes, yet she knew she couldnt give her the certainty that she needed. Do you want me to be totally honest with you?

Id appreciate it. Jaes eyes were on her fingers, which now played in her lap.

I cant give you an answer to your question. Things inside me have changed over the past six months, and I really just dont know what I want.

You mean since that blonde came back into the picture.

No, Jae, I mean in the last six months. Becca sat up, mirroring Jaes pose. I dont enjoy the partying, the drinking, the constant socializing. Im not a carefree spirit like you.

I can stop, Jae protested. I can be what you need-

Stop. Becca held a finger to Jaes lips briefly before dropping her hand to her own lap. Thats not fair to you and its not fair to me. Why would you ever want to change yourself for someone? If you have to do that, and if they ask that of you, then its not the right situation, Jae. Dont ever do that. Youre a beautiful, young, vibrant woman who deserves someone who can appreciate that and revel in that. She paused, sighing deeply. I just dont think Im that woman.

Jae echoed the sigh, trying to keep the tears behind her eyes at bay. She knew Becca was right, had known it for a long time. Their relationship probably shouldnt have gone on as long as it had; neither of them were happy or content, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was. Okay. She finally said. She climbed off the bed, no longer wanting to be in the same room with Becca. She needed to think and process, and amazingly enough, wanted to do it alone.

Becca sat there long after shed heard the front door slam. She sighed heavily, relieved, but she also felt bad. She didnt want to hurt Jae, as Jae wasnt a bad person. She knew she had hurt her, had been hurting her because something for Becca was off, but she hadnt been entirely sure what it was, or what to do about it. Or, maybe she just hadnt wanted to take the time to do anything about it.

Until now.

Glancing over at the bedside clock, she saw that it was after midnight. Running a hand through her hair, she fought the urge to call Braxton. It was a crazy thought to call her, especially since she didnt have her number. But more than that. What would she say? What was her motive? What could Braxton possibly to do make her feel better?

***

As Braxton drove down Granview Avenue in Canon City, she admired the scenery around her. On either side of the narrow, two-lane road were trees of varying types, shapes and colors. Straight ahead was the blue of the far-off Colorado Rockies. Shed taken this drive once during the fall, and the view had reminded her of a scene in New England.

Her stomach had been all over the place since landing the night before and getting her hotel in Colorado Springs. Shed decided to drive the 115, or Ribbon of Death, highway in the light of day. The 115 was to be avoided at all costs, the two-laned highway wound its way through mountainous twists and turns, which people took at ridiculous speeds.

The facility came into view on the left side of the road, and Braxton took a deep breath. She told the guard who she was and what her business was, and was allowed to head on into the parking lot. The sallyport stood tall, the double fencing intimidating. She had been instructed to wait, as Margot would have to go through processing before shed be escorted out of the facility.

A glance at her watch told Braxton that she was early, and would be waiting for more than thirty minutes. She chewed on her lower lip, glancing over at her cell phone. She flipped it open and dialed for information. Los Angeles, California. B&B Prop Shop. Thanks.

***

Becca nearly fell off the third-floor landing as the little gizmo in her pocket began to buzz and vibrate, letting her know Brian needed her in the office. She trotted down the long flights of stairs and then hurried to see what her brother needed.

Yo? she asked, leaning in through the open doorway.

Call, he said, never taking his eyes off the screen of his computer, his hand holding out the cell phone that was used for their business.

Becca took the phone as she headed back towards the stairs. She had an order to put together. Becca Steiner, she said into the tiny phone.

Hey. Sorry to bother you at work, but do you have a few minutes?

Braxton? Becca paused, her foot on the bottom step of the stairs, hand freezing on the rail.

Yeah.

Of course Ive got a few minutes. Are you in Colorado? Becca turned and sat on the third stair.

Yeah, I got in last night. Im sitting in the parking lot of the prison right now. She wont be released for another twenty-seven minutes.

How do you feel? Becca asked quietly. Hell, she was nervous for Braxton!

I feel like I want to throw up, Braxton laughed. She smiled at the soft laughter she heard on the other end of the line. Im going to make an admission. I wanted to ask you to come with me today.

Why didnt you? I would have. This is a tough, confusing time right now for your mom, Braxton, and I imagine you, too. I would have come.

Now you tell me, Braxton said, trying to laugh off her sudden emotion.

Beccas heart nearly broke at the soft sob she heard. Hey. You okay?

Yeah, Braxton nodded. Im just

emotional right now. Im so happy, but really afraid for her, too. Will she be able to function, Becca?

Sure. Becca caressed the rail next to her, wishing it were Braxtons hair. Shell be okay. She has you and Grace. I think Grace will probably help her more than anyone or anything. Shes so innocent, and has no idea where her grandmas been or what shes done. She can love Margot unconditionally and without bias or prejudice.

Braxton was silent for a long time, imagining the older and youngest Crowley together. I think youre right. I hope I didnt make a mistake by selling her house in Ivanwood.

Do you think shed want to go back there? Not exactly the best of memories.

No, but it was her home. Braxton sighed, her gaze never leaving the front of the building behind two rows of razor-topped fencing. I just hope she likes California. That is, if she wants to stay there.

Sure she will, Becca said, scooting to the side as Brian hurried past her up the stairs.

How do you know that?

Becca could hear the uncertainty in the blondes voice. She smiled, making sure it entered into her own voice. Because youre there. Because Grace is there. Youre her life, Braxton. Undoubtedly youre what got her through the past eight years. Youre the reason she likely stayed with your father. Shes shaped her life around you, and now she has her granddaughter to love, too.

Thank you, Becca. Im glad I called you. You make me feel better.

Anytime. Itll all be okay. Just you wait and see.

Braxton smiled, blowing out a breath. She did indeed feel better. On impulse she said, Would you come to a celebration dinner when I get back? You can bring Jae, too, if you want, she added, though nearly through gritted teeth.

Well, Id love to come. Jae wont be coming. Becca ran a hand through her hair before tucking it behind her ear.

Oh? Braxton tried to sound nonchalant, but failed miserably.

Yep. We broke up last night.

Oh. Im sorry. Braxton felt bad for her evil thoughts about Jae.

Dont. It was long in coming. Trust me, its a relief. Brian motioned to her that they were in a hurry. She nodded understanding, but didnt get off the phone. Shed stay as long as Braxton needed her to, which wasnt long.

I better go, Becca. Shell be out soon, and I need to get myself ready.

Okay. Im here if you need me. Hey, you got something to write with? Ill give you my cell number.

Braxton wrote down the number she was given then tucked it into her coat pocket. Okay. Ill give you a call later and tell you how it all went. Thanks again, Becca.

Youre welcome. My thoughts are with you.

Braxton took several deep breaths as she waited. Her watch said she had only two minutes. Rotating her head on her shoulders, she winced as her neck popped. A loud motorized clanging sound got her attention. She sat up straighter in her seat, eyes glued to the front of the building. Two uniformed correctional officers flanked a small woman, dressed in the jeans and sweater that Braxton had sent her last week.

Braxton gasped when she realized the small woman was her mother. The nearly-gray hair gleamed in the sunlight. Margot looked pale and fragile. As the trio got closer to the opening gates of the sallyport, Braxton could see her eyes, which were filled with such joy and near giddiness. Taking a deep breath, Braxton climbed out of the car, walking over to where her mother was being led.

Margot felt overjoyed to see her daughter again, and not when sitting at that awful, scarred table surrounded by guards and other inmates. Her two escorts wished her luck, then headed back the way theyd come, leaving her and Braxton and the camera above their heads.

Hi, Mom, Braxton said just before the tears came and she took her mother in a crushing hut. Margot returned it with just as much vigor, gently rocking her little one as she cried. Margot had no more tears left to cry. Now was a time for happiness and smiles.

Its okay, baby, she murmured, stroking Braxtons hair. Mommas here.

Braxton felt like she was thirteen again, and needing the warmth of her mother, needing to know it would all be okay. It was amazing how quickly she could revert when she had a child of her own!

After a long moment she got herself together, chuckling nervously at her own outburst. She was finally able to really look at her mother and was shocked at what she saw. Margot had aged greatly during her time inside. She looked ten years older than her fifty-one years. Im so glad youre out, Mom.

Me, too, honey. Thank you for coming.

Are you kidding?! I wouldnt miss it for the world! They smiled as Braxton led her to her rental car. Getting settled and buckled in, Braxton glanced over at Margot. Are you hungry? Do you need anything? To go anywhere?

Margot thought for a moment, then her mouth began to water. Oh, honey, Id really love to go eat somewhere. She turned pleading eyes to her daughter.

Laughing, Braxton got the car started and headed back into the small town of Canon City.

***

The room was plain-bed, dresser, empty closet and a bedside table. Braxton had said she wanted Margot to be able to decorate as she wanted to. In fact, they were going shopping next week to allow her to pick out things shed like.

Margot sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly. She marveled at the softness, and couldnt wait to sleep that night. She looked around the small room, which shed been told had been her daughters spare bedroom this time last week. Braxton had quickly quieted Margot protestations, claiming she was happy to relinquish it for her.

It had been an emotionally and physically exhausting day. Margot had never flown before, and never believed it when people said it was tiring to travel. Boy, they were right. She wasnt sure what to do with herself as she sat on that bed, her hands resting in her lap. The clothing Braxton had sent her to wear out were too big on her. She looked down at herself, far thinner than she had been upon entering. Braxton threatened to fatten her up.

Margot smiled at the day shed spent with her baby girl, who was out getting her own baby girl. Margot couldnt wait to take her granddaughter into her arms and hugging her tight. She had been given a second chance and just prayed that she could make the most of it, and do right the second time.

Pushing off the bed, she walked across the thick, soft carpeting, which made her sore joints groan in pleasure. The house beyond her new sanctuary was so quiet. Graces bedroom was directly across the hall, so Margot walked to it, standing in the center of the room and looking around. The twin bed was butted up against two walls, only one side and the foot free. The comforter was some cartoon character that Margot wasnt familiar with, as were the pillow shams and bed skirt. Toys were neatly tucked into a colorful toy box in the corner, and dolls lines low shelving that the girl could easily reach. It was neat and orderly, just like the rest of the house. Even so, the washable crayon and chalk the filled the walls were testament to a little girl who was allowed to use the room as a play land for a growing imagination.

Margot grabbed a well-loved teddy bear from the bed and hugged it to her as she sat on the mattress of the small bed. She inhaled the fragrance of a child from it, her eyes closing as her smile grew. That had been one of the things shed loved the most about the days when Braxton was a baby and then toddler and then small child. The smell of her innocence. Very much the same scent as what clung to Graces bear.

Putting the bear back where shed found it, she headed into Braxtons room, noting the colorful design scheme that made clear an artist inhabited the room while the décor wasnt too flashy or obnoxious. She ran a finger along the highly polished cherry wood of the furniture, peeking her head into the luxuriously appointed bathroom, including a large tub and separate shower. She would love nothing more than to soak in a tub of hot water. It was a luxury she hadnt had in far too long.

Margot scurried out of the room when she heard movement downstairs, and Braxton calling, Mom! Were home! Followed by, Gramma! Were home! She nearly melted at the sweet voice of the little girl. She hurried down the stairs just in time to see the two leave the kitchen and cross into the living room. Margot stopped, catching her breath as the beautiful child she saw before her.

Oh, sweet, sweet Grace, she whispered, slowly falling to her knees. She wasnt sure if she should send up a prayer of thanks or hug the girl first.

Grace wasnt sure what to do. Shed been excited to see her grandmother for days, but now that the woman was there before her, her shyness began to take over. She leaned back into her mothers body, a finger dangling from between her lips.

Go on, sweetie, Braxton urged, gently nudging her daughter toward Margot.

Grace, it is so wonderful to finally meet you, Margot said softly. She held out her arms for the small girl who slowly walked over to her. At contact, Margots eyes fell closed, and she wrapped her arms around the frail body. I love you, little Grace. She nearly wept when she felt a tentative embrace become a full-on squeeze.

Braxton stood back, watching one of the most beautiful sights shed ever seen. She slowly slid away back into the kitchen as Grace and her grandmother began to chatter incessantly about Graces adventure with her father for two days, and Margot told Grace all about flying in the big, metal bird. Neither one heard when they were called for dinner.

Part 26

Becca stood on the front stoop, a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of chocolate milk in one hand, a package of Suzie-Q’s in the other. She used her knuckles to press the doorbell. Within moments she heard footfalls on the other side, and the door was pulled open to reveal a much older version of Margot.

“Becca!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up when she saw all the filled the taller woman’s hands.

“Hello, Margot. It’s wonderful to see you. Here, these are for you.” She handed her the flowers, mentally patting herself on the back for a job well done when Margot nearly melted on the spot. “A symbol of my happiness that you made it in one piece.” She leaned down and gave the surprised older woman a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome home.”

“Oh, Becca. Thank you.” Margot quickly hugged the beautiful woman, careful not to smash her flowers. “Gosh, I don’t remember the last time someone brought me flowers,” she said wistfully.

“Well, I’m sorry it couldn’t be a young hunk.”

“Oh!” Margot laughed, stepping back to allow Becca inside the house, which smelled wonderful. She could hear a child’s chatter deeper inside, punctuated by Braxton’s appropriate ooh and aah and really? “Braxton, our guest is here,” Margot called out as she led the way toward the kitchen.

Immediately little feet pounded through the swinging door and to Becca, surprising the tall woman as Grace flung herself at her legs. Barely keeping herself from falling back, Becca leaned down and hugged the girl. “Well, hello there.”

Grace looked up, all grins. “What did you bring me?”

Becca chuckled, amazed at how children always seemed to smell a gift. “Here.” She handed her the big bottle of chocolate milk - which Alec often brought for Grace during the get-togethers - and squealed in delight.

“Mommy! Look!” she ran to Braxton, who was just coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands, shoving the bottle in her face.

“That’s great, honey!” Braxton said with far more enthusiasm than simple chocolate milk really deserved. It pleased Grace, so Braxton was happy to do it. Her daughter ran by her and toward the kitchen as the blonde headed over to Becca. She eyed the flowers in her mother’s hands and grinned. “Aren’t you just Mrs. Claus tonight.”

“That’s Miss Claus, and here you go, little girl.” She presented the Suzie-Qs. “I know you used to love these god awful creations, so hopefully you still do.”

Braxton’s eyes widened as she snatched the sweet treat from Becca’s hand. “Oh, I love these.”

“I know. A fact I’ve been pondering for eight years.”

Amused green eyes met Becca’s. “Really? Hmm. I’d say we need to get you something more interesting to think about then.” With those words, she turned and headed back into the kitchen, leaving Becca to think about all the other things she’d rather be pondering at that moment.

Margot was amused as Grace and Becca ganged up on Braxton, who was taking it all in stride. She’d watched the three as the night wore on, and noticed a comfort level between them that made her wonder if Becca had ever truly been out of Margot’s daughter’s life. It was obvious Grace adored the tall, beautiful woman, and as Margot watched Braxton she couldn’t exactly say she didn’t see the same thing shining in her green eyes.

During Margot’s time behind bars, she’d learned about love between women, and what it looked like, and what it meant. Though she, herself had never participated in such a relationship, her closest friends inside all belonged to not only a “girlfriend”, but also an entire family. There was a hierarchy in female prison families. There were the “grandparents”, “aunts” and “uncles”, all the down to “cousins” and siblings. Margot had been an “aunt” for five of her eight years, and loved her prison family very much, but wouldn’t give up her real family, nor freedom for any of them.

Watching Braxton and Becca now, she saw those same ties between them. She knew the two women always had a close bond that seemed to form rather quickly originally, and it appeared it was still in tact. It was beautiful.

Later Becca and Braxton worked on the dishes as Margot and Grace played in the living room. One thing Braxton knew was that she’d never have to get a babysitter again. Her mother had absolutely fallen in love with her daughter. And Margot was trying to make up for lost time. Grace had immediately taken to her grandmother, as though they had never been apart.

Becca poured herself and Braxton another cup of coffee as the blonde scrubbed diligently at a pan. She could see a soft smile curving Braxton’s features, that she didn’t even think the petit woman was aware she sported.

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” she said, setting Braxton’s mug on the window seal above the sink.

Braxton was surprised by the non-sequitur, and blinked at Becca. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re smiling. You have this happy glow about you, in your eyes.” Becca leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for the pan to be washed so she could rinse it and put it away.

Braxton thought about that for a moment as she made one more pass of the sponge across the outside of the pan before setting it in the warm rinse water. “I guess I am. I feel content. The most important people in my life are around me.” She spared a quick glance over at the taller woman who was eyeing her speculatively. She returned her attention to the dishes, her stomach beginning to grow warm. “You still owe me the finished tour of your warehouse,” she said absently.

“That I do.” Becca dried the pan and set it aside with the small stack of others. “What are you doing in say,” she glanced at her wrist watch, “fifteen minutes?”

***

The warehouse was always a bit creepy at night, Becca thought as she flicked on the bright, overhead lights. When she gave voice to that thought, Braxton said, “Come here late often, do you?”

Becca smiled at the playful tone in her voice. “Sometimes. If I couldn’t sleep, needed time to myself, or had too much work for the next day, I’d come here. Or stay here.”

Braxton walked across the main floor to where the large items were parked. She ran her fingers over the shiny chrome of a motorcycle that had no wheels. “So, does this one fly?” she teased, nodding toward where the front wheel would be.

“Not exactly,” Becca explained. “This bike would be used in front of a green screen, the bike mounted on a fun little contraption that would make them look like they were dodging all sorts of fun stuff for close up shots while the stunt guys did the real riding.”

“Very cool.” Braxton moved on to a row of cars, followed closely by her taller companion. Something was crackling in the air, and both were filled with a sort of nervous energy that seemed to leap back and forth between them. “What’s your favorite thing in this place?” she asked, leaning back against a bright pink Volkswagon Bug.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Becca held out her hand, which Braxton took, and led her toward an elevator. She punched the button for the fourth floor, which Braxton hadn’t even been aware the warehouse had. “Very few get to see this, except me,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not used very much. I actually love to come up here to get away sometimes. Eat my lunch, whatever. Slept here one night, too.”

Intrigued, Braxton gladly followed Becca down a long, dark hall from the elevator doors, which slid silently closed behind them Before them were what were obviously the backsides of huge flats, two of which were connected by a huge, extremely realistic-looking wooden chamber door. Becca felt around the left flat, flicking a near invisible switch, then pushed the door open.

Braxton gasped as she walked into the bedroom of a castle. The “walls” were made of “stone”, torches all around fluttering to life from the propane that pumped from a hidden tank to send eerie shadows dancing across the space. The furniture, which was set up to look exactly like a lady’s bedchamber, was made of sturdy, heavy dark wood. The bed had a massive silk canopy, the mattress bare, awaiting fine linens to complete the look. A vanity stood in one corner, a massive fireplace in another, made from the same foam blocks that had been attached to the wood flats and painted.

“Oh, Becca,” Braxton breathed, turning in a slow circle. “This is so amazing.” Finally her eyes landed on the brunette’s. “Why is this here?”

“You’d be surprised how costly it can be to create an entire set like this for such a large room on a soundstage. The construction will eat you out of house and home, as well as the labor. Folks with a smaller budget can get the entire room, including all the furniture, for a third of the cost.”

“How can you rent it so cheap?”

Becca grinned. “Pure profit. All of this was donated to us. I keep it set up, not only for my own personal enjoyment, but also so a client can see what they’d be getting.”

Braxton walked along the perimeter of the large space, taking in the wonderful detail. Reaching out a finger, she poked at one of the stone bricks, amazed to feel the material give ever so slightly.

“Looks real, doesn’t it?” Becca said softly from behind her.

Braxton nodded, a warm wave flowing through her. She swallowed it down. “Yes. I bet it looks fantastic on camera.”

“It does. Can’t tell the difference from the real thing.”

Braxton glanced over at the bed, and again, the warmth spread through her. “Did you ever bring Jae up here?” she asked softly, turning to face Becca.

Becca shook her head, not entirely surprised by the question. “No one.”

“No one?” Braxton asked, a brow raised in doubt.

“Cross my heart.” And Becca did just that. She met Braxton’s gaze, which was dead on and intense.

“Why not?”

Becca tucked her hands in her back pockets, nerves beginning fire within her blood. Her body heat had begun to rise, and she felt restless and fidgety. “Because I knew she wouldn’t be able to appreciate this like you can.”

“But she was an artist, too, right? Makeup artist?”

Becca nodded. “But very different from you.”

Braxton wasn’t sure what to say as she looked up into Becca’s face, her gaze landing briefly on her lips. She felt a jolt stab through her lower belly, filled with something she hadn’t felt in years: desire. She caught her breath at the realization, wanting to take a step back from Becca, but unable to move.

Becca could see the pulse in Braxton’s throat begin to pound, and wondered what was the cause. She looked into the blonde’s face, amazed all over again at just beautiful she really was. She was surprised to see a hand come into her view, then shocked that it was her own. She couldn’t bring it down as her fingertips brushed against Braxton’s temple, touching the soft hair, golden in the torchlight. “God, you’re gorgeous,” she whispered, filled with awe.

Braxton wanted to cry at the soft words and gentleness in Becca’s touch. It was so alien to her, and her eyes slipped closed as she leaned into the touch. “Don’t be so nice to me,” she begged, her head falling. Two fingers lifted her chin.

“Why?” Becca asked gently. She was surprised to see the glistening of tears in Braxton’s eyes.

Braxton laughed nervously. “I’m not real used to it, Becca. I’ve been alone for a really long time.”

Understanding dawned on Becca as she saw the fear in the green eyes, yet an intense longing was also there. She cupped Braxton’s cheek, moving a bit closer. “You deserve someone to be nice to you, Braxton, and so much more.”

Braxton sighed heavily, feeling as though nearly a decade of loneliness was melting away. She was afraid, but needed Becca so much in that moment. Before she could stop herself, she threaded her arms up around Becca’s neck and took the taller woman’s mouth in a soft, but needy kiss. Becca’s response was immediate as she pulled Braxton to her, deepening the kiss. It didn’t take long before their breathing quickened, filling the space around them.

Braxton broke the kiss, her chest heaving as she tried to get herself under control. She slid her hands down until they rested on Becca’s arms, her face buried in the taller woman’s neck. She felt so alive, her blood buzzing through her veins. She could hear Becca’s heart pounding, and knew her own was matching it.

“Oh, Braxton,” Becca murmured into the soft, blonde hair, holding the petit woman against her. She sighed, her eyes squeezing shut as soft lips began to trail over her neck. “Braxton…”

Braxton could no longer think, instinct taking over. All she knew in that moment was that she wanted Becca, she needed her with such an intensity that she felt she’d die if she didn’t have her.

Becca was taken aback by the sudden passion that filled Braxton. She moaned as her lips were again taken, confident hands tugging her shirt out from the waistband of her pants then deftly slipping underneath. She gasped at the warm touch, the kiss growing in intensity.

Braxton felt like a woman possessed as she tugged Becca’s shirt off, the taller woman shaking her hair free before moaning as the long column of her neck was trailed with wet fire. Braxton’s hands blindly reached behind Becca, fumbling until she got her bra unclasped, the garment falling from her shoulders.

Becca pulled away just enough to get Braxton’s attention. “Wait. Wait, baby.” When Braxton stopped and looked at her curiously, Becca was able to catch her breath, and started to work on the blonde’s clothing.

“I don’t look like I used to,” Braxton moaned, her head falling back as Becca laid a trail of kisses down her throat while her hands massaged Braxton’s breasts beneath her shirt.

“What do you mean?” Becca whispered, making her way back to Becca’s mouth. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not a twenty year old kid anymore, Becca. I’ve had a baby.”

“I know,” Becca smiled, placing a soft kiss to Braxton’s lips. “And I think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like you.”

Relief washing through her, she latched onto Becca’s mouth, rewarding her with a short, but passionate kiss. When it broke, she looked up into Becca’s eyes and saw all that she needed to see. She took her by the hand and led her over to the bed, stopping them just beside the high mattresses. She allowed her gaze to wander all along Becca’s chest, the fullness of her breasts, so inviting. Placing her hands on Becca’s shoulders, she pushed until the brunette was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Becca spread her legs, pulling Braxton to her with a finger hooked into the front of her jeans. Their mouths met, though it was soft, stirring the growing passion. As the kiss continued, she unbuttoned Braxton’s pants, pushing them down her legs, followed by her panties. Next came her bra.

Naked, Braxton suddenly felt shy and vulnerable. She combed her fingers through Becca’s hair, watching her reactions carefully. Blue eyes scanned her naked breasts, itchy fingers beginning to run along the smooth skin that covered Braxton’s stomach. To Becca, Braxton was still the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. She looked up into Braxton’s eyes and smiled.

“I crave you, Braxton,” she said softly. “Everywhere. Inside and out.”

All of Braxton’s insecurities dissolved with that simple, sweet admission. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Becca’s lips. “Lie back,” she murmured. As Becca did, Braxton made quick work of the buttons of her jeans, then tugged them off. Now clad in only her panties, Braxton took in Becca’s incredible beauty. She slid the panties off, tossing them to the floor.

As she crawled up Becca’s body, she smiled. “I feel like some sort of princess finding and making love to her knight in shining armor.”

Becca grinned. “Mmm, I like the sound of that.” She kissed her thoroughly, both groaning as Braxton lowered her body completely, their naked breasts pressing together as Becca spread her legs, her body cradling Braxton’s hips. Their kiss deepened as Becca’s hands ran up and down Braxton’s back, her nails dragging across her spine.

Braxton broke the kiss and held herself up on her hands, looking down into Becca’s flushed face. “You know this is crazy, don’t you?”

Becca nodded, cupping Braxton’s breasts, lovingly massaging them. “Yes.”

“You want to know what’s even crazier?” she whispered, eyes slipping closed as her nipples were rubbed and pinched. “Oh, god that feels good…” She pressed her hips into Becca before getting her thoughts back in order. “What’s crazier than us doing this right now, right here, after so long is that from the moment I saw you, I knew you’d be instrumental in my life. You’d be a force for good.”

Becca was truly touched, her heart swelling. “I can top that-the crazy stuff. I think I’ve been in love with you my whole life. I was just waiting for you, waiting for the right time.” Becca responded to the kiss that earned her, her hands drifting down until they pressed into Braxton’s ass, holding them closer together.

Braxton felt nearly overwhelmed with sensation and emotion. She was stunned when she found their positions changed, her back coming to rest on the bare mattress. She looked up at Becca, who hovered over her.

“I’m going to do what I wanted to do eight years ago, Braxton,” she murmured, placing tiny kisses along Braxton’s jaw and throat.

“What?” Braxton barely managed, sensation surging through her.

“Make love to you slowly.” She licked a trail down along Braxton’s collarbones. “Kiss you.” Between her breasts. “Taste you.”

Braxton gasped as one of her nipples was sucked into a hot mouth, the tongue batting at the rigid tip. “Oh god, Becca.” She buried her fingers in the brunette’s hair and pressed her closer. “Oh, don’t stop…”

Becca moaned as she sucked harder, a hand running down the flat planes of Braxton’s stomach until her fingertips reached the wet heat between strong thighs. Since the first time she’d kissed Braxton, Becca had dreamed of tasting her, taking her to the heights of passion.

Braxton cried out softly as two fingers began to slowly massage her clit as Becca’s kisses trailed lower, nipping playfully at her flesh before she settled her shoulders between Braxton’s legs. She held her breath, waiting. No one had ever tasted her before, and her heart pounded at the thought.

Becca loved the huge size of the old bed as it gave her long body plenty of room to settle in. She took Braxton’s already-moving hips in her hands, then lowered her face to the bounty before her. At her first taste she moaned, running her tongue from Braxton’s opening all the way up the seam of her sex and back down, dipping her tongue inside.

Braxton’s head rolled to the side, her hips arching as she was filled with Becca’s tongue, then two fingers. She moaned loudly, her body threatening to betray and orgasm. She did what she could to hold it back, but she was losing the battle.

Becca could tell Braxton was close, though she’d just begun to love her. She contemplated pulling back just enough to get the blonde’s body to settle, but the desperate moans coming from above told her Braxton needed release. She added a third finger on her next thrust in, using just the very tip of her tongue to tantalize Braxton’s clit. The body beneath her was unstoppable, hips bucking, stomach and thigh muscles tightening and standing in relief as Braxton’s body convulsed with a loud, guttural cry.

Becca held on, clenching her sex to keep her own orgasm from overtaking her. When Braxton’s body had settled, she crawled back up her body, immediately finding her mouth. The kiss was bruising and deep, Becca trembling with her need to come.

“Let me help you, baby,” Braxton murmured into the kiss. “Turn over.”

Becca rolled to her back, moaning deeply as Braxton rolled on top of her. She found Becca’s breasts. She suckled one nipple as her fingers massaged the other.

“I need you, baby,” Becca gasped, her need nearly overwhelming her. She was nearly in tears as she was entered by two fingers.

Braxton worked between Becca’s spread legs, her mouth feasting across her breasts, chest, and finally to her mouth. Becca kissed her back until she was breathing too hard and had to break it off. She clutched rhythmically at Braxton’s shoulders, her hips moving in time with the thrusts inside her engorged sex. “Ah, shit,” she ground out through gritted teeth, her release exploding violently through her body.

“I’ve got you,” Braxton cooed, removing her fingers only to bring them to Becca’s clit, where she pressed down hard, ripping another orgasm through her lover.

Becca grabbed Braxton and pulled her against her, hugging her as her heart continued to race. Braxton settled in, nearly on top of the taller woman. “You feel so amazing,” she whispered.

“What do we do now?” Becca asked, kissing the top of Braxton’s head.

“What we just did?” Braxton asked hopefully.

Becca grinned, but it faded quickly. “Seriously. I have to admit I’m a little… unsure, after our past.”

Hearing the sadness in Becca’s voice, Braxton pushed herself up to her elbow so she could look down into her face. “We were very different people eight years ago, Becca. I know I sure was.” She brushed a few strands of dark hair off Becca’s forehead. She gazed down at her, unable to hide all that she felt. “I’m so drawn to you. I always was. I felt it again the moment I saw you on that stage.”

“I did, too. That’s why I ran.”

Braxton smiled. “You really need to stop doing that.” They shared a soft kiss. “Let’s see where this goes, okay? I really want you in my life. In Grace’s life.”

“I want to be there, too.” Becca returned the smile. For the first time in her life she felt whole and complete. “Let’s see where this goes.”

***

Braxton pushed the door closed, trying to stay quiet as she locked up. The house was dark, Grace long in bed, and likely Margot as well. Braxton had just been dropped off by Becca, both figuring it best she didn’t spend the night until Braxton had time to talk to her mother about the new dimension of their relationship.

Her body was tingling pleasantly, sore in areas she hadn’t been sore in years. Sighing happily, she ran her hand along the railing as she headed upstairs. At the top of the landing she saw Margot just outside her bedroom, frail body wrapped in a robe.

“Hey, Mom. Why are you still up?” Braxton whispered, giving her mother a tight hug, always so grateful to see her.

“I was worried. Wanted to make sure you got home okay,” Margot said. She stepped back, looking at Braxton. She saw a light in her eyes that she’d never seen before. A soft smile brushed her lips. “You found love tonight, didn’t you?”

Braxton’s flush was deep, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious. Could her mother smell sex on her? “Mom…”

Margot chuckled. “Are you happy, honey?”

Braxton’s smile was immediate. She nodded. “Yes. Very.”

Margot leaned over and kissed her daughter soundly on the cheek. “That’s all I can ask for, Braxton.” She grabbed her daughter’s hand, squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “Let’s go to bed. You can tell me about her tomorrow.”

The End

Table of Contents

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26