Somewhere in His Arms (34 page)

             
Her blood ran cold. What if it
was
Reese? What if he'd finally tracked them down? Wiping her hands on a towel, she went into the living room. Alec was sitting on the sofa with the phone in his hand and a disgruntled look on his handsome face. He glanced up at his wife and shook his head glumly. “What are you saying?” he demanded angrily. “How could they
lose
him?”

             
Lucy sank into a chair, feeling sick to her stomach. “She's fine,” her husband said, tipping her a wink. “Okay, I'll tell her! Goodbye!” He slammed the phone shut and nearly hurled it into the fireplace. “They lost him!” he told her once he could speak.

             
She paled and clutched her apron. “Lost him?” she repeated numbly. “W-Where?”

             
Alec rubbed the flesh between his eyes. “They tracked him going across the border in El Paso and then the plonkers lost him in Juarez!”

             
“Juarez?” she repeated faintly, feeling as if she might throw up. “What's he doing there?”

             
Alec sighed heavily. “I think he's got relatives there or something. Too bad the narcos can't string his sorry ass up from a bridge!” He rose and went to her. “He'll have to go through me to get to you,” he swore fiercely. “You know that.”

             
Lucy nodded and gulped. Sometimes if she wasn't careful, she'd see those hellish eyes gleaming at her from some dark corner of her subconscious. Suddenly her stomach protested the direction her thoughts were taking and she fled to the bathroom. She barely made it and slumped against the toilet.

             
Alec swore and followed after her. He wet a washcloth. He bent and swiped her face. “Let's get out of here,” he said.

             
“Where?” she mumbled through the cloth.

             
He smoothed her hair away from her brow.

             
“San Francisco.”

             
“N-Now?”

             
Alec helped her up. “Pack a bag, love. We're hitting the trail!”

             
Lucy hurried to her room. She began tossing the bare essentials into the satchel. “How long will we be staying?” she called to him.

             
He popped into her room with his duffle. “A few days at least. Suddenly this place gives me the willies.” He set the duffle down and helped toss her clothes into her bag. “We can buy what's missing, if need be. Let's go.”

             
Lucy shouldered the satchel and hurried to the kitchen. She got a plastic bag and threw in the first batch of cookies. Then she wrapped up the remaining dough and stuffed it into the freezer. She pulled the half-baked cookies out of the oven, turned it off, and placed the pan on the counter.

             
Alec led her outside where the sun was just starting its nightly ritual of slipping into the bay and locked up. He loaded the truck and helped her in. As she fastened her seatbelt, Alec leaned across and reached into the glove compartment. He fished out the pistol Rudy had given him and slipped it into his ankle holster. He fastened his seatbelt and turned towards his wife. “Ready?”

             
She nodded and leaned back into her seat as the truck rolled away from their little cottage. Suddenly the gun didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Lucy had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that Alec might soon have to use it.

Chapter Twenty-one

Alec parked the truck along a side street and set the brakes. The drive into San Francisco hadn't been too bad, though they'd had to navigate a landmine of traffic after a semi-trailer sideswiped a truck full of oranges. The road had been a sticky mess of squashed fruit peels and acrid juice. He glanced over at Lucy who'd dozed off on the trip across the bridge.

              He jumped out and had a look around. The street was dark and deserted this time of night…all the better for them. Alec had asked Lucy if she wanted to go to a hotel, but she'd been a nervous wreck and hadn't had much to say on the matter. He made the decision to nix the hotel and try for something a little less conspicuous. If that bastard Reese's intentions were to find them and finish Lucy off, then the last place they should be was out in the open in some hotel.

             
Alec strode over to Lucy's side, taking care to note his surroundings. He opened her door and nudged her awake. “Wake up, love,” he whispered against her cheek and unfastened her seatbelt. “We're here.”

             
She moaned sleepily and stretched to work the kinks out of her tired limbs. “Where are we?”

             
Her husband helped her out and they stood looking up at the two-story Edwardian. “Telegraph Hill,” he informed her and walked her up the steps to the door. “Wait here.”

             
Lucy shivered despite the warmth of the evening and hugged herself, wishing she'd brought a sweater. Alec came back with their bags and handed her the satchel. She watched in bemusement as he fumbled in the dark looking for something.

             
“What are you looking for?” she whispered.

             
“The bloody key! He always hides it in the damnedest places!”

             
“Who?”

             
Finally with a low cry of triumph, he located the elusive key hiding in a planter. He struggled with slipping the key into the lock, until he heard a resounding click and the door swung open. “My stepdad,” he answered finally, feeling along the wall for a light switch, squinting as a low-hanging ceiling lamp suddenly illuminated the entryway.

             
Lucy winced at the sudden brightness. “I didn't know you had a stepdad.”

             
He closed the door and locked it. “Yeah,” he said, tossing his duffle onto a nearby couch. “Mum married him when I was but a wee lad of four.”

             
“What's he like?”

             
“Pat?” he frowned and took her bag and set it down next to his duffle. “He's a regular berk!” he muttered unkindly. ”He thinks he knows everything!”

             
Lucy smiled up at her husband. “And does he?”

             
Her husband shrugged and reached for her. “Mum thinks so.”  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Hungry?” he asked gently.

             
She nodded. “Starving!”

             
He kissed her again and took her hand. Lucy followed him through the darkened house where he finally led her into a tiny kitchen. He set her upon a stool and went to see what leftovers Pat had left.

             
Lucy glanced around and found it didn't compare to their little cottage. Right about now, she would be fixing some tea and maybe settling down on the sofa to watch a movie with her husband. She shook her head sadly and yawned. Lucy found herself nodding off but was startled awake by a cabinet slamming shut.

             
“Dammit!” Alec swore.

             
“What's wrong?”

             
He turned towards her. “There's nothing here! The bloody oaf didn't even have the courtesy to leave a jar of peanut butter!” Looking around in frustration, he checked his watch. “I can run out and grab a few things, I guess.”

             
“Can I come?” she asked, feeling a sudden need to stay close to him.

             
“I was just about to ask you!” he grinned.

              They found a Walgreens nearby and stocked up on the usual basics such as bologna, cheese, and bread. After a light supper of sandwiches, milk, and some of Lucy's cookies, Alec decided it was time for bed.

             
He led her upstairs to the second floor, which didn't have much to offer in the way of comfort. There was a small bathroom with claw-footed tub and pedestal sink. Off to the right of that was an equally small bedroom. Lucy stared at the old cast iron bed in horror.               It looked like something right out of
The Exorcist.

             
“Your stepdad isn't much for creature comforts is he?”

             
“He's mingy all right,” Alec said with a rueful laugh and dropped their bags onto an overstuffed chair. “He just uses the place when he's here on business. He probably uses it for storage more than anything else.” 

             
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and went over to the window, where an old pair of lace curtains was strung up like a pair of tattered ghosts. She pulled them aside and peered out. A street lamp cast its eerie glow into the night, and in the distance there appeared to be someone walking his dog. “It's so quiet here.”

             
Alec sat down on the patchwork quilt and winced as the old-fashioned coils protested under his weight. He gave the bed a good bounce to check to see if it would hold up under two people. “I think it passes muster,” he laughed and patted the bed beside him. “Come here, wife,” he commanded huskily.

             
Lucy kicked off her Mary Jane sneakers and walked barefoot over the rough wooden floor. She sank down beside him and put her head on his shoulder. His arm went around her and she felt his lips brush her hair.  “Let's go to bed, love,” he said softly.

             
She didn't feel like changing her clothes or brushing her teeth. Lucy allowed her husband to tuck her in and sighed sleepily when he slipped in beside her and took her into his arms. The pillow was too soft, so she put her head on his chest. Slowly, the heat of his body mingled with hers and she drifted off, and the shadows let her be.

             
For the time being anyway.

             
She awoke screaming in terror. Reese had shown up again and this time he had ripped out her baby from her womb and had held it up for her to see while he proceeded to stab it to death. She'd been unable to move and the baby had looked at her with pleading blue eyes, begging her to stop him. And all she could do was watch helplessly as Reese laughed and flung the tiny body at her and it died again, in her arms...

             
“He's killing the baby!” she screamed and flailed about in a blind panic. “Don’t let him take my baby!” she sobbed.

             
“God, love!” Alec had been jolted awake by his wife's screams and now he struggled to hold her down, lest she hurt herself. “It's me, Lucy!” he cried and held her tight. “It's me!” He watched as sanity returned to her eyes and she looked up at him.

             
“Alec...?” she croaked. “H-He had the baby...he was laughing and he had a knife and he--”

             
“Hush, love,” he soothed and kissed her eyes and stroked her hair away from her face. “He can't hurt the baby, love.” Her body quivered in remembered horror and he used his hands to quell her trembling. “The baby's safe,” he forced himself to say. “No one can hurt him ever again!”

             
“Oh, Alec!” she wept and wrapped her arms about his neck. “I miss him!”

             
“Don't,” he rasped, trying not to cry himself. He buried his face in her hair. “Don't do this to yourself.”

             
Lucy was inconsolable. She hadn't really grieved for her son and now she let the tears flow. “Let me cry, Alec. I have to get it out.”

             
His arms tightened around her then and he gave vent to
his
grief. They held each other in a desperate embrace and wept for their baby. When the tears were exhausted, they both fell into a listless sleep.

             
Alec awoke the next morning feeling like a sledgehammer had clobbered him. The night had been one of the worst in recent memory and one he didn't care to revisit. He rolled over and discovered Lucy missing. She hadn't slept well and might have decided to watch TV.

             
He got up and pulled on his loafers and went in search of his wife. When he reached the stairs, that's when the smell assaulted him; fresh eggs and the salty goodness of good old-fashioned bacon. He quickened his step.

             
Lucy was in the kitchen barefoot and cooking up a storm. She'd fired up the old gas stove and had apparently gone to the store judging from the mound of ingredients on the counter. There had been a small explosion of flour and it dusted the stool and floor.

             
Alec wiped the flour off and hopped up. He watched in silent appreciation and smiled when she expertly flipped the pancake she had frying in the pan.

             
She slid the cooked one onto a serving platter and turned to reach for more batter. That's when she saw him. “Hello wife,” he said, his smile fading at her swollen eyes.

             
Lucy barely managed a smile before adding the batter to the pan. “How many would you like?” she asked, her voice tight and oddly devoid of emotion.

             
“Two or three will be good love,” he answered, feeling the familiar heaviness in his chest again. “Don't strain yourself.”

             
“I-I'm not,” she said and flipped the cake. “I have to do
something
or I'll start screaming again.”

             
He got up and went to her and slid his arms around her slender waist. He touched his lips to her hair. “I know,” he said softly. “Need some help?”

             
“Um...you could set the table,” she leaned back and took the strength he offered.

             
Alec kissed her cheek and went to fetch the paper plates and napkins they'd bought. He set two places on the old 50s dinette set that Pat had bought at an estate sale. The thing was better suited to a junkyard. He fished out the plastic cutlery and poured some orange juice into plastic cups. “How's that, love?' he asked.

             
“It's fine,” she murmured without turning around. She loaded up the platter with the pancakes and a large heap of scrambled eggs. She set it down on the table and got the small plate of bacon. “Get the syrup,” she said, nodding towards the counter.

             
He hurried to do her bidding and pulled out her chair for her. She flopped down into the vinyl seat and proceeded to load up a plate with pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Lucy handed it to her husband and got her own plate. Then she sat numbly and stared at her culinary creation.

             
Alec was growing alarmed. He'd never seen her like this. Even after the hospital and even their fight, there'd been a fire lurking below that demure exterior. Now it seemed that a mere nightmare had the ability to drain the life out of her. “Lucy.”

             
“Hmm?”

             
“Eat your eggs love,” he ordered none too gently. She nodded and picked up her plastic fork and proceeded to eat her pancakes. Dry.

             
He swore silently and reached across the table and poured a good amount of syrup over her pancakes. Then he took his knife and fork and cut the bacon up into child-size pieces. He sat back down and watched in dismay as his wife slowly ate her breakfast like a goddamn robot

             
Lucy chewed the pancakes and swallowed. She ate her eggs and polished off the bacon. She glanced up, startled when Alec abruptly left the table and came back with a small bottle. He opened it and shook out the familiar blue tablet.

             
“No,” she shook her head. “I don't like that stuff!”

             
Alec sighed wearily and knelt down beside her. He placed the pill into her palm and closed it gently. “Just for today, love,” he pleaded. He reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You need to sleep.”

             
“I'm afraid to go to sleep,” she whispered back. “He's there, watching me.”

             
He caressed her cheek. “I'll watch you. I won't leave you.”