Ten Tiny Breaths (18 page)

For such a perfect wake up, the day sure ends
like shit.

I have no idea what time Trent’s arriving
into Miami. I’ve sent a few messages to him to find out, but I
haven’t heard back. It’s making me incredibly anxious. Awful
visuals of planes crashing plague my thoughts all day and into my
shift at Penny’s.

So when Nate tugs me from the bar and into
the back office where Cain holds a phone up for me, my stomach
plummets to the ground. “It’s urgent,” is all he says, his brows
pulled together tightly. I stand and stare at Cain and the black
receiver for a long moment, unable to bring myself to face it. It
isn't until I hear a child’s cry on the other end that I snap out
of my daze and grab it from his hands.
“
Hello?” My voice
wobbles.

“Kacey! I tried your cell but you didn’t
answer!” I can barely understand Livie between her sobs and Mia’s
wails. “Please come home! Some crazy man is trying to break down
the door! He’s screaming Mia’s name! I think he’s on drugs. I
called the police!” That’s all I get out of her. That’s all I need.
“Lock yourselves in the bathroom. I’m coming Livie. Stay there!” I
hang up the phone. My words tumble out in short, clipped fragments
and they don’t sound like me. To Cain I say, “There’s an emergency.
It’s Mia. Storm’s Mia. And my sister.”

Cain is already grabbing his car keys and a
jacket. “Nate—get Storm off the stage. Now. And have Georgia and
Lily cover the bar.” He hooks his arm around me, pulling me gently.
“Let’s get to the bottom of this, okay, Kacey?”

I feel like someone’s kicked me in the gut.
My head bobs up and down, all the while an internal torrent of
screams and wails assault my senses. Storm and I are in Cain’s
Navigator and on the freeway in under thirty seconds. Nate’s
hulking body fills up the passenger seat. Storm, in nothing but her
silver bikini from her acrobat act, drills me with the same
questions over and over again and all I can do is shake my head.
Breathe,
I hear my mother’s voice say.
Ten tiny
breaths
. Over and over again. It doesn’t help. It never fucking
helps, dammit! I’m shaking all over as I sink further and further
into the dark abyss where I go when people I care about die. I
can’t seem to get out of it. I’m drowning under the weight of
it.

I can’t bear to lose Livie. Or Mia.

Finally Storm stops asking me questions. She
instead grabs hold of my hand and holds it to her chest. And I let
her, finding solace in her racing heart beat. It tells me that I’m
not alone in this.

A circus of police and ambulance lights greet
us when we arrive at the apartment. The four of us run past the
opened gate, past an anxious Tanner who’s talking to a police
officer, past the wrangle of curious neighbors, all the way to
Storm’s apartment to find the door half-hanging off its hinges,
split in two by someone’s fist or head or both. Three police
officers hover over a hunched male form. I can’t see his face. All
I see are tattoos and hand cuffs.

“I live here,” Storm announces as she breezes
past them and through the door, not batting an eye at the guy. I
follow her steps to find a puffy-eyed Livie sitting on the couch
with a form curled up on her lap, sucking her thumb and choking on
ragged sobs, well past the point of hysterical crying. An officer
stands over them, reviewing notes. The table lamp that sits next to
the door is in pieces and Storm’s giant stainless steel frying pan
rests on the ground beside Livie.

Storm is on her knees in front of Mia in a
second. “Oh, baby girl!”

“Mama!” Two scrawny arms fly out to wrap
around Storm’s neck. Storm scoops Mia up and into her arms and
begins to sway. Tears run down her cheeks as she hums a song.

“She’s unharmed,” the police officer assures
us, his words releasing the lungs worth of air I’ve been holding. I
rush to Livie, throwing my arms around her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to panic you. It
was so scary!” she cries.

Her words hardly register. I’m too busy
fumbling with her arms and legs, grabbing her chin, rotating her
head this way and that, checking for wounds.

Livie laughs, grabbing hold of my hands and
holding them together in hers. “I’m fine. I got him good.”

“What …. what do you mean, ‘you got him
good?’” I give my head a shake.

Livie shrugs. “He got his head through the
door so I slammed Storm’s gargantuan frying pan over it. That
slowed him down.”

What?
I look at the pan lying on the
floor. I look at my dainty fifteen year old sister. I look at the
pan again. And then, whether in relief, in fear, in madness—likely
all three—I burst out laughing. Suddenly we’re both doubled over,
falling against each other as we laugh and snort hysterically. I
clutch my middle in pain, the muscles tested in a way they haven’t
been for too long.

“Who’s the crazy in handcuffs?” I whisper
between fits.

Livie’s laughter cuts short, her eyes
widening expressively. “Mia’s dad.”

I gasp as I glance back at the busted door
and then over at Mia and Storm, my imagination running wild. He
wanted to get to his daughter. “What was he doing here?” I can’t
keep the horror from my voice, all urge to laugh evaporating. Dread
ripples through me like an aftershock, permanently detaching the
unstable plates I’ve balanced myself on all these years. Just the
thought of something bad happening to Mia sends me reeling. Or
Storm, for that matter.

Because I love them.

Mia’s not just that gap-toothed kid who Livie
babysits. Storm’s not just my stripper neighbor who got me a job.
As hard as I’ve tried to keep everyone at arm’s length, just like
Trent, those two have found a way in. A different way, but one that
has inevitably led to a place in a heart I thought long since
frozen and incapable of feeling.

Livie wraps her arms around her body as she
watches Mia and Storm and I see fear envelop her thoughts. “I’m
just so glad Trent came when he did.”

Another gasp. “Trent?” I jump to my feet and
spin around, my heart leaping into my throat as I scan the
apartment. “Where? Where is he?”

“Here.” I turn to find him passing through
the entry way. I’m on my feet and colliding into him in seconds.
His arms tighten around me instantly, protecting me with their
strength. He buries his face into my hair and we stay like that for
a long time before he pulls back to rest his forehead against mine.
My hands slip around his sides to his back, my fingers crawling up
to dig into his shoulder blades and yank him back close to me. His
muscles tense beneath me. All the fear and nerves and terror of the
day is suddenly morphing into some animalistic need. I
need
to hold him. I
need
Trent. We stay like that, as I press my
nose against his chest, inhaling the wonderful mix of woodsy and
ocean scents.

“I missed you,” I hear myself whisper,
surprising even me. Kacey Cleary doesn’t admit to missing people
out loud. But Trent feels like something valuable misplaced and
then found again and I’m overwhelmed with relief.

Trent leans in and kisses my jaw line, near
my earlobe. “Missed you too, babe,” he whispers into my ear,
sending shivers through my core.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you sure you don’t want
to press charges?” A voice asks.

“I’m sure. It’s just a bruise,” Trent
answers, not releasing me from his grip, like he’s as in need of me
as I am of him.

“What bruise?” I pull away and look up to see
Trent’s bottom lip swollen. My hand flies to it, but he grabs it
and holds it away. “I’m fine. Really. It’s nothing. Completely
worth it.”

“I’ll need to ask this young lady a few
questions. Are you her guardian?” I hear the cop ask and I assume
he’s talking to Storm so I continue staring up at Trent’s face,
unable to peel away. He’s equally unwavering in his gaze.

“Miss?”

“Yes, she is,” I hear Livie say and I snap
out of it. He’s talking to me. “Yes, yes …” Turning, I find Officer
Stares-A-Lot standing behind me. My frown tells him that I
recognize him.

He shrugs noncommittally. “You ladies sure
are keeping us busy these days.” His gaze drifts over to Storm,
ever so quickly taking in her body before averting his eyes to the
ground as he pushes a hand through his short blonde hair. He’s a
decent-looking guy in a Ken doll, mama’s boy sort of way. And he’s
got the hots for Storm. That much is obvious. Then again, who
doesn’t?

“No one can accuse us of being boring.” I
smile to myself. “I’m Kacey. That’s Storm, but it looks like you
remember her, Officer …?” I watch with morbid fascination as blood
rushes right to his hair line.

He clears his throat. “Officer Ryder.
Dan.”

Storm is oblivious, still holding her
daughter tightly as she sways her hips, her eyes half-closed and
dreamy.

Another throat clears. We turn to find a
second officer poking his head into the doorway. “If there’s
nothing else, we should get this guy to the station for booking.”
His attention coasts to Storm and lingers.

“Then get him to the car. Now!” The officer
catches Officer Dan’s lethal glare and growl and ducks out. To
Storm, Officer Dan says in a soft voice, “I’d find another place to
stay for the night until you can get this door fixed. My shift will
be over in a few hours. I can come back and watch over the place
until morning if you want?”

Storm breaks free of her spell then and turns
to look at Officer Dan like she’s seeing him for the first time,
her irises twinkling. “Oh, thank you. I don’t have much, but I’d
feel safer if someone were watching over it.”

Officer Dan flushes for the third time and I
have to say I’m impressed with him, his eyes locked on her face the
entire time when even Gandhi would have a hard time not wandering
over her barely clad frame.

“I’ll watch over the place until you get
here,” Trent offers.

Officer Dan sizes Trent up, looks at me in
his arms, and likely decides Trent isn’t competition. He nods. “I’d
appreciate it.”

“You have somewhere to stay for the night,
Angel?” Cain asks, stepping through the doorway. Nate looms behind
him.

“She can stay with us,” I answer before Storm
has a chance to say a word. She nods silently, her hand still
cradling Mia’s head whose lids are drooping closed now.

“Okay, then. I’ve got to get back to the club
to close up. I’ll put your earnings from tonight in my safe. You
can pick them up tomorrow.” Cain offers with a sincere smile,
adding, “Take tomorrow night off.”

“Thanks, Cain,” I hear myself say. Storm’s
right. They really are nice guys. “Thanks, Nate.” I get a grunt in
return. But then Nate takes three mammoth steps to close the
distance between himself and Storm. Like watching a bear paw at a
newborn’s head, I cringe as Nate’s hand reaches out to cover Mia’s
head. He’s gentle though, giving her a soft pat. “Sweet dreams,
Mia,” he rumbles. Sleepy blue eyes look up at him. I’m sure she’s
two seconds away from screaming. I know I would be. But I watch her
little hand lift up to squeeze his one finger, the gesture yanking
on my heart strings. With that, Cain and Nate leave.

“Come on, let’s get Mia to bed,” Livie puts
her hand around Storm and gently ushers her toward the door, just
as Tanner steps in. “Not now, Tanner,” Livie murmurs, leading them
out and next door.

He scratches his head in that ‘Tanner way’
but nods, stepping aside. I bury my mouth in Trent’s chest again,
this time to keep from laughing. I never noticed coming in, so
zoned in to getting to Livie and Mia, but Tanner’s wearing Batman
pajamas.

Tanner runs his hand up and down the doorway
and I know what he’s thinking. “This wasn’t Storm’s fault, Tanner,”
I start to say, afraid he’s going to throw down his one coveted
rule. This would definitely be classified as disturbing thy peace.
But he waves my words away, mumbling, “never seen people with such
bad door luck.”

Trent peels himself away from me and steps
forward, pulling out his wallet and another wad of cash. “This
should cover it. Can you get your guy in first thing in the
morning?”

“You don’t have to do that, Trent,” I say as
Tanner’s meaty paw wraps around the money.

He comes back to grab hold of me again,
shaking his head dismissively. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow.”

Tanner lifts his hand to wave the money in
thanks and moves for the doorway.

Officer Dan stops him. “Sir, I suggest you
speak to the building owner about replacing those entrance gates
immediately and with a better system, given how easily these can be
forced open, as demonstrated tonight.”

Tanner appraises the cop with shrewd eyes. “I
agree, Officer, but the owner of this building is a scrooge whose
purse strings are tighter than a—” he glances at me and ducks his
head. “He’s cheap, that’s all.”

“Would it help if he received a formal order
from the Miami Police Department and the City of Miami indicating
he’s liable for a multi-million dollar lawsuit if he doesn’t
provide adequate security for his residents?”

Tanner’s brow arches in surprise. “You can do
that? I mean …” He clears his throat and that wry smile stretches
over his face. “I do believe that would influence him,
Officer.”

Dan nods curtly, a thinly concealed smile
touching his lips. “Great. I’ll come up with something and have it
to you first thing tomorrow.” Turning to Trent, he says, “I can cut
out from my shift early. Can you make it until four?”

“I’ll be here.”

With that, Dan exits, stooping slightly to
pass through the doorway. Tanner and his Batman pajamas follow
closely, leaving Trent and I alone.

I peer up at Trent’s looming form to admire
that gorgeous face. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months,” I
murmur, lifting to my tip toes to lay a gentle kiss on the
uninjured side of his mouth.