Ким Харрисон - The Outlaw Demon Wails

"Do you want some coffee?" she said brightly. "I just made some." She looked at her empty mug, clearly clean and never used. Shock flickered over her, then disgust when she saw the percolator and realized the coffee had never gotten made.

"Let's get you to bed," I said. I wanted to ask her about my birth father, but she was scaring the crap out of me. I'd seen it before, but not like this. I had to call her doctor. Find her spells. "Come on, Mom," I said, standing and trying to get her to rise. "It's going to be okay."

She refused to move, and when she started to cry, I got mad at Al. How dare he come into my mom's house and stir her up like this. I should've had her spend the night at the church. I should have done something!

"I miss him so much," she said, the tears in her voice making my throat tighten, and I sank back down. "He loved us all so very deeply."

Reaching out, I held her, thinking life was cruel when the child had to comfort the parent. "It's okay, Mom," I whispered, and her narrow shoulders started to shake. "It's over. The demon did it to hurt you is all. It's over, and he won't do it again. I promise. You can stay with me until they find a way to hold him."

Fear wrapped around my soul and squeezed. I was going to take Al's name to stop this. The other choice was not an option at this point.

"Look," she said around a sniffle, pulling the album to her and opening it up. "Remember this vacation? You got so sunburned you couldn't go on any of the rides. Robbie really didn't mean to hurt your feelings by calling you a crab person."

I tried to close the album, but she wouldn't let me. "Mom, stop looking at these. It just hurts you," I said, then stiffened at the sound of the front door opening.

"Alice?" came a strong, masculine voice, gravelly and resonant, and my heart jumped when I recognized it. "It wasn't me," he pleaded, coming closer. "God, Alice, I didn't tell her. You've got to believe me. It was Trent. And he needs to get his ass out of your house so I can pound him into little pieces of green—"

I stared, my pulse hammering when Takata strode into the room, stiff and angry, his long hands made into fists, his face red, and his dreadlocks swinging. He was in jeans and a black T-shirt that made him look skinny and normal. His words cut off and he jerked to a halt when he saw me holding my mom. His haggard face went ashen, and he said flatly, "That's not your car out there. It's Trent's."

My mother quietly cried, and I took a deep breath. "I couldn't find my car, so I took his." I didn't feel so hot, and swallowing, I remembered his roadies listening to me argue with Trent. And with that, it all fell together.

"You?" I said, my voice a high squeak. There was only one reason he'd have come over here and walk in as if he had a right to. My face flushed, and I would have stood if my mother hadn't clenched her grip on me, keeping me seated. "You!"

Takata's eyes were wide, and he rocked back a step, his long hands up as if in surrender. "I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you. I promised your mother and dad. You don't know how hard it's been."

Hard for you? I stared, horrified and angry. Crap on toast. "Red Ribbons" was about me. My gaze shot to him, reading his guilt. Damn it all to hell, his entire career had been made by putting his fucking feelings of guilt for having abandoned me and my mom out there for everyone to see. "No," I said, moving as my mom rocked back and forth, lost in her personal hell. "You and my mom…no!"

My mom started crying in deep racking sobs, and I held her closer, torn between comforting her and shouting at Takata.

"I can't take it anymore," she burbled, trying to wipe her face. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all!" she exclaimed, and my grip loosened. "You aren't supposed to be here!" she shouted, standing up out of my arms and looking at Takata. "She's not your daughter. She's Monty's!" she raged, red-rimmed eyes glaring and her hair all over the place. "He gave up everything for her and Robbie when you left to chase your music. Sacrificed his own dreams to support us. You made that choice, and you can't come back. Rachel is not yours! I can't—" Her balance wobbled, and I reached for her. "I want it to stop!" she screamed, and I fell back when she swung blindly at me. "Go away! Go away! Just make it stop!"

Shocked, I backpedaled until I hit the counter, frightened. I didn't know what to do. My mother stood with her arms wrapped around herself and her head down, sobbing, and I was afraid to touch her.

Takata never looked at me. Jaw clenched and eyes bright with unshed tears, he crossed the room and, without hesitation, wrapped his long, wiry arms around her.

"Go away," she sobbed, but he had pinned her arms between them, and it didn't look like she really wanted him to leave.

"Shhhh," he crooned as my mother melted in his embrace, putting her head to his chest and sobbing. "It's okay, Allie. It's going to be okay. Robbie and Rachel belong to Monty. They aren't mine. He's their dad, not me. It's going to be fine."

I stared at his height, measuring it against my own, seeing my tangled curls in his dreadlocks, seeing my lean strength in his limbs. My gaze dropped to his feet in a pair of flip-flops—my feet on someone else's body.

Leaning against the counter, I put a hand to my stomach. I was going to be sick.

"I want you to go," my mom cried, more softly now, and Takata rocked her where they stood.

"You're fine," he soothed, his arms around her but his eyes on me. "It's all going to pass over and nothing will change. Nothing's going to change."

"But he's dead," she wailed. "How could he be here when he was dead?"

Takata's eyes met mine, and I mouthed, "Al." Stark fear melted his expression to one of horror, his attention going to the amulet on the table and then to me. I felt a surge of bitterness. He knew all about me. I knew nothing of him. Son of a bitch.

"Did he touch you?" Takata said, pushing her from him enough so he could see her face. "Alice, did he touch you!"

His voice was high and frightened, and my mom shook her head, looking where their bodies met. "No," she said, her tone flat. "It wasn't him, and I played along with it until I could get him in a circle. But we talked…all night. I had to keep him here so he couldn't hurt Rachel. He wants to use her like a blow-up doll and then give her to someone to pay off a debt."

Oh, this is just what I need.

Tears streaked her face, and Takata pulled her to him again. He loved her. I could see it in his long, expressive face, laced between the heartache. "It's late," he said, his voice starting to crack. "Let me get you to your bed."

"Rachel…," she said, trying to pull from him.

"The sun is up," he said, keeping her from seeing me in the corner. "She's fine. She's probably asleep. You should get some winks, too."

"I don't want to go to bed," she said petulantly, sounding nothing like my mom. "You have to leave. Monty will be home soon, and it hurts him when you come over. He won't admit it, but it does. Robbie is too old for you to see him anymore. He's going to remember you."

"Alice," he whispered, his eyes closed. "Monty is dead. Robbie is in Portland."

"I know." It was a faint, resigned whisper, and I felt ill.

"Come on," he coaxed. "Let me get you in bed. Do it for me. I'll sing you to sleep."

She protested, and he swung her up and into his arms as easily as if she were one of his bass guitars. My mom let her head fall against him, and he turned to me, still plastered into the corner. "Please don't leave," he said softly, then turned and carried her out.

My heart pounded as I stood where I was and listened to their progress through the house, my mom's soft inquiries and his rumbling responses. It grew quiet, and when I heard him singing softly, I staggered to the table, reaching blindly. Numb, I sank into the chair my mother had been sitting in, my head dropping into my hand as my elbow found the table.