Allison Brennan - The Prey

Rowan walked into the kitchen, Michael right behind her. John and Adam were eating cookies and drinking milk at the island. John looked up sheepishly, a milk mustache across his top lip. He looked so silly, it made her want to smile. Big tough ex-military guy walking around with milk on his upper lip. Because she found it endearing, she quickly turned to Adam and pushed the image of John from her mind.

“Adam, why did you drive all the way out here?” she asked.

Adam glanced up at her, worrying his glass in his hands. He looked both embarrassed and excited.

“I wanted to tell you I was really, really sorry about Marcy.”

“You already apologized. I told you I wasn’t mad.”

Adam frowned and stared into his almost empty glass of milk. “I know,” he mumbled. “But Barry was mad, and he still acts mad sometimes. He says Marcy might try to get me fired.”

“I won’t let Marcy get you fired. I told you that.”

“Or Barry?”

“Or Barry.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll do my best.” Rowan put her hand on Adam’s chin, making him look at her. “But what you did today was wrong. I called Barry and told him about the truck. He didn’t even know it was gone. What if he had called the police, thinking it was stolen?”

“I-I hadn’t thought about that. I wasn’t going to be gone a long time, just to bring you the flowers and go.”

“I understand, but you don’t have a driver’s license, Adam. You could have hurt someone because you don’t know all the rules of the road. I told you when you want to learn to drive, I’ll teach you and help you get your license. But you can’t do it whenever you want.”

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid. Are you mad at me?”

Rowan tried to look stern, but couldn’t pull it off. Not with Adam. She cared about him so much and wanted to strangle his mother for her cruel indifference and verbal abuse. “You’re not stupid, Adam. I don’t want to ever hear you say that again. Understand?”

“But-”

“Adam.”

“Yes, Rowan. You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad. Just don’t do it again.”

He heaved a huge sigh of relief, and Rowan gave him a hug. She glanced at John, who had a thoughtful expression on his face. She quickly turned away. She didn’t want to be drawn to John Flynn. He was dangerous. Dangerous to her.

John’s cell phone rang and he answered it. Rowan couldn’t hear the conversation, but John’s face turned from contemplative to blank like a switch. It was about her. She wanted to confront him, but she’d do the same thing in his shoes. She didn’t have to like it though.

“Thanks, Andy,” he said and hung up. He caught her eye, but his expression remained closed.

He was up to something. What?

“What was that about?” Michael asked.

Rowan had almost forgotten Michael was there. He leaned against the doorway, his casual stance belying the tension she saw in his neck and shoulders. At first she’d thought John and Michael were close, but there was a growing unease whenever they were in the same room together.

“Business,” John said, sliding the cell phone into his jeans pocket. “Adam brought flowers.”

John had deliberately changed the subject, and Rowan was certain he was checking up on her. The thought angered her, but her impulse to push him was interrupted when Adam started talking, excited.

“John found a vase, I hope that’s okay, but I didn’t want them to die. I broke one, so you can throw it out, but they’re still pretty.”

“I’m sure they’re lovely, Adam, but you didn’t need to bring me anything.”

Adam nodded his head vigorously. “Oh, yes. Barry always gets Sylvie flowers when she gets mad at him. And even though you said you weren’t mad at me about tricking Marcy, I knew you were a little bit mad, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry, but not just say it, you know?”

Rowan smiled. “I know. That was very thoughtful.” She looked around the kitchen. “Where are they?”

“John put them in the dining room.” Adam jumped off the stool and grabbed Rowan’s hand, pulling her into the next room. “I was going to get roses, but the man said the calla lilies were better for friends. We’re friends. Aren’t they pretty?”

Rowan smiled until she saw the flowers.

Lilies.

Her eyesight faded from the periphery, until all she saw were the white lilies. A dead voice, as clear as if her mother were standing right next to her, said, “Aren’t they pretty? Just like you, Lily.”

Lily looked up at her mother and smiled. “They’re prettier, Mama.”

Mama laughed and shook her head. “You’ll be such a charmer with the men when you grow up, sweetheart.” She ran her soft, slender fingers through Lily’s hair, and Lily leaned into the caress with a smile. “You know I named you Lily because your daddy gave me lilies on our first date.”

“I know, Mama.” But she loved the story. She couldn’t picture her father giving her mama flowers. He was so serious all the time. And sometimes he yelled at Mama. She didn’t see him much. She was in bed before he came home from work most nights, and the only time she ever really talked to him was on Sundays. And sharing his attention with her two brothers and two sisters was hard. She preferred to read or play out in the backyard.

Three sisters, she reminded herself as she looked over at the bassinet. Danielle was beautiful.

“Why didn’t you name the baby Rose so you can get roses all the time? Roses are prettier than lilies.” Lily wrinkled her nose. She really didn’t like bouquets of flowers all that much. They were nice when they were freshly cut and arranged in a vase, but they died and Mama threw them in the garbage, almost as if she didn’t care. Lily didn’t know why someone would want flowers around the house all the time when they died so fast.

Outside in the garden, flowers lived forever. They slept in the winter, but they came back every spring. Those flowers Lily liked.

Mama laughed and kissed Lily’s head. “You are a funny girl.”

Danielle started squeaking. It wasn’t really a cry, just a little squawk. “I think she’s hungry, Lily. Will you get her for me?”

“Me?” Lily wanted so much to hold the new baby, but her father told her not to touch, that babies weren’t dolls.

“Of course you.”

Lily walked over to the bassinet and looked at her baby sister. She’d loved her the minute Daddy brought Mama and the baby home last week. But knowing that she could hold her, bring her to Mama to be fed, brought that love to a new level. She could help be the mama. She couldn’t feed her because she didn’t have breasts yet, but she could change her diaper and her clothes and bring her to Mama.

She smiled brightly.

“Hi, baby,” she said in her best mother voice. “I’m your big sister Lily. We’re going to be best friends.”

Carefully, tenderly, she picked up the newborn, supporting her head just like Mama had taught her. She walked three steps to the couch.

Mama put the baby to her breast. She suckled, and Mama got a dreamy expression on her face. “Lily, there is nothing in the world better than feeding your baby. One day, you’ll grow up and be a mama.”

“I want lots of kids.”

Mama smiled. “You can have as many as you want. You can do anything with your life, sweetheart. You can be a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or a mother. All are important.”

“But mamas are the most important because babies need them,” Lily said, feeling very smart.

“Yes, babies need their mamas.”

A loud thump upstairs made Lily jump, and she stepped closer to her mother.

“Stupid brat! Get out of my way.”

It was Bobby. He sounded mad. Even madder than Daddy got when Mama didn’t do something right.