April 20
Ryan
"What's cooking, good looking?"
"Sounds like you were expecting someone else's call," I say flatly.
"You again? Didn't you just call me last week?"
"I need you to send some things."
"I literally just got done with your last order. Aren't the days like, shorter, or something, up there? You must have gotten it like yesterday."
"That's... that's not how any of this works."
"Whatever. Tell me what you need so I can hang up."
"Lovely speaking with you too."
"Come on, man, I got numbers from like ten hot chicks last night." His voice becomes distant. "Last night? This morning? Whatever. I just texted all of them and soon they're gonna start responding so hurry it up."
I begin rattling off a short list, including enough ammo to keep up with Ana's rigorous attitude toward target practice. When I reach the last item on my list, I pause.
"I want a dog."
"A dog?"
The voice on the other end deadpans.
"Yeah. I want a dog that can handle cold temperatures. A really fluffy one. Maybe one that looks like it's smiling. I also want it to bark when it hears noises. It needs to be fairly easy to train. Make sure it has all the vaccinations it needs and paperwork and stuff. You got that?"
"Yeah. Little fluffy yapping dog. Got it."
"No, I want something larger than those chihuahuas Scarlet is always fawning over. I want a large guard dog. But not something that looks scary."
"Oh, I get it. This is for your little girlfriend, isn't it? Is she still with you?"
I glare at the trees, wishing my brother could see the look I'm giving him.
I freeze when I hear a feminine voice in the background audio of the phone call. I immediately assume it's Saph. My blood runs cold. This wouldn't be the first time I'd caught Joe and Saph together.
"Yes, it's him." Joe's voice sounds distant like he's talking to the other person in the room with him. "Yeah, some girl." I can hear the feminine voice again. To my relief, I recognize it as my twin sister Scarlet. "Hell if I know. If you want to know so bad, you talk to him."
I hear a shuffling sound and suddenly Scarlet's voice is speaking clearly through the phone.
"You're keeping a GIRL up there?"
"I'm not keeping anyone anywhere. I'm not a sociopath. There is a woman staying at the cabin until certain people decide to leave her alone," I say slowly.
"Oh. My. God. Who is she?" Scarlet asks, sounding breathless. Then she launches into the most rapid speech I think I've ever heard, her words only barely distinguishable from each other.
"Do I know her? Ugh, who am I kidding, of COURSE I know her. Lemme think. Who's been causing a scandal lately? Who's got the media breathing down their neck? How long has she been there? Oooh, she must really be someone if she convinced YOU to hide her! She must be desperate! Who is it? You've got to tell me. No! Let me guess. Eeek! Just tell me!" Her voice became higher and higher pitched as she spoke.
"What on Earth are you talking about?"
"You said she was hiding from the paparazzi! I have to know who it is!"
"She is hiding from the people who murdered her family and are trying to track her down and kill her."
"Are you serious?" She sounds annoyed.
"Yes!"
"She's not a celeb?"
"She's no one."
Scarlet emits an exasperated groan. "Why do I even bother talking to you?" she says, her question obviously rhetorical.
"Uh, you don't," I remind her. If we'd been close growing up, I might have been hurt that my twin sister never gave a thought for my existence, but as it stands, I'm really more grateful that she leaves me alone. Especially since she and Saph were BFFs.
"You were saying something to Joe about dogs?" she asks, trying to sound bored.
I feel my eyes narrowing. Scarlet started her own business - some kind of fancy dog store where you can buy all kinds of rat-sized canines - after she decided college was boring. Despite her feigned boredom, I know she's a shark when it comes to making money for herself. Even though I don't care that she hasn't bothered to talk to me in the last four years, it bothers me that she's eager to speak to me now just for the gossip and money she thinks she can get out of me.
However, she'd probably be more helpful than Joe, especially if she thinks she's going to gain from it.
"Yeah, how'd you like to earn some money for your little puppy store?" I hate myself for obliging her selfish nature and for forcing my voice to sound pleasant. My one solace is that I know she hates me referring to her business as a "little puppy store."
"I would love to help anyone considering the addition of a canine companion," she says, the disdain and annoyance seeping into her sickly sweet tone.
I repeat to her what I told Joe. I can almost hear the smile in her voice as she says, "I believe I can find exactly what you're looking for. Now, are you expecting a little girl or a little boy?"
For probably the first time in our adult lives, she sounds happy to be having a conversation with me. I don't know if it's that she likes dogs or the prospect of making money substantially more than she likes me, but whatever it is puts me in even more of a sour mood than speaking to my idiot brother did.
"I'm not pregnant," I say flatly. "And remember, I don't want a miniature one, like those shivering little rats you sell people. I want a real dog."
"Male or female?" The voice on the other end has lost its happy overtones. Scarlet loves her Chihuahuas more than life itself. I can almost imagine the rage my rat comment drew.
"Male," I say.
"Figures," she says. She pauses for a moment, then the syrupy sweet voice returns. "What else would you like?"
I roll my eyes. If this were my own money I'm spending, there's no way I'd give a dime of it to her. "I also want dog food - puppy food, books on how to train dogs, a food bowl and water bowl, brushes, a leash, a collar, and anything else you can think of that a dog would need. And dog toys, dog treats, and a dog bed. And a book specifically about the breed of dog you pick. Give the phone back to Joe."
She doesn't say another word to me as another shuffling sound comes through the phone again.
"Can I hang up now?" Joe's voice is taking on a hint of a whine.
"One more thing."
"Ugh, what now? Will it never end?"
"I want you to look up Anastasia Clarence."
"Who?"
"Anastasia Clarence. Google her."
"Can't you do this yourself?"
"Don't have internet, remember?"
"You're insane."
"Find anything?"
Joe sighs. "Not much. Oh wait - here's that news article you asked about last time - the helicopter crash. Why do you want to know about the dead helicopter girl? Oh damn - is dead helicopter girl the one staying at your place?"
I'm peeved at myself for accidentally leading my brother to this realization. I ignore the question.
"She witnessed the murder of her family. Can you find anything about that?"
"Shouldn't we tell someone she's alive? They all think she's dead."
"No, they don't. The police announced her death to get the people hunting her down to leave her alone. But those people know she's not dead. Remember how I told you all the people in the helicopter had been shot to death? That was these people. They saw Ana escape during that bloodbath and they are still after her. If you tell anyone about her, you'll be their next target."
"So it's Ana, now, is it?"
I can hear the nasty little smile in his voice and it fills me with rage. I know he's mocking me.
"If they find Ana because of you, I will track you down and I will end you."
A laugh sounds at the other end. "Sounds like someone has the hots for the girl he rescued."
I'd intended to inspire fear in him, but my plan seems to have backfired spectacularly.
Joe makes a disapproving noise. "Now what would our dear Sapphire have to say about that?"
My rage only burns hotter. "You do not speak to me about her. Ever," I say through clenched teeth.
Joe laughs again at my outrage. "You're too easy, little brother."
While I fume and battle with the urge to crush the life out of the phone in my hand, Joe returns to the previous topic.
"There are some news stories from November about your little girlfriend. All they really say is that the family died in a home invasion."
"A home invasion?"
"Are you deaf in both ears now?"
I consider throwing the phone across the yard.
"If it was just a home invasion, why would they be hunting her down like this? This can't be just a home invasion. There's got to be something bigger going on."
"Why are you asking me? Who do you think I am, NCIS?"
I hear a weird buzzing noise come from the other end.
"What was that?" I ask.
"Finally got a response. Gotta bounce."
"Don't forget the -" a click indicates the line is dead. "Dog," I finish. I pocket the satellite phone and remain outside for several minutes as I wait for my rage to subside.
I do not "have the hots" for Ana. Yes, she is kinda hot. Yes, she has a captivating smile. Yes, she has an intriguing personality that she's finally allowed me to glimpse more and more. Yes, she seems to care about me, but only in a friendship kind of way. We are nothing more than reluctant friends thrown together by fate and circumstance. Neither of us is choosing to be together. We're here because we can't go anywhere else.
Ana does not like me as anything more than a friend. She sees me as a protector, maybe like an older brother. Perhaps like that US Marshal she seems to have cared about. Ana will never like me as anything more than a friend. No woman will ever like me as anything more than a friend. Saph drilled that into me the first and last time she saw me after the attack.
I remember my brother's earlier comment about touching Ana with my maimed hand and its missing fingers. Any woman who would be attracted to that, attracted to my deformities... I shudder. The thought is sickening. I have no interest in a woman who finds my disfigurement arousing.
I do not have a crush on Ana. I can never allow myself to even consider developing feelings for Ana. Any non-platonic feelings I acquire for her will not be returned. Ever. Ana will never be attracted to me and she will never develop romantic feelings toward me. It's simply a fact. I've long accepted that no woman will ever feel that way toward me. I don't have a crush on her and she will never have a crush on me.
Why is that so disappointing?