Page 11 of Catch Me
Michael spoke up. “Do you want any help with that?”
I glanced at him, feeling more than grateful for the ex-special forces soldier and wayward mafia prince. More than once since we’d left Helsinki, Michael had been there to help me. His family’s connections to Interpol had gotten him out of custody sooner than anyone else and he’d contacted me before I’d even gotten back to the states. I’d thought that out of all of them, other than Simon, Michael would be the most furious with me. He was the one who’d trusted me the least. But all he’d said was, “Get Simon out of prison and take care of Rue. Then your debt to me is paid.” Since then, he’d supplied me with the burner phone and the information I’d needed to get into contact with Simon’s handlers. “If it will not put you in any more debt with your familia, then yes, that would be great. I wore my connections at the bureau out. I don’t think I can count on anyone to help me out at the moment.”
Rue’s lips twisted upward in a sinister grin. “Well, well, look at you, miss Federal Agent. Are you saying you’re ready to play a little dirty?”
I snickered, but the laugh sounded hollow to my own ears and I continued to watch the buildings blur by us. “Rue, honey, you have no idea how dirty I can play.”
CHAPTERTEN
Hannah
Red clay stained the soles of my white tennis shoes, making it look like I’d just walked through a puddle of rust instead of the little garden path that led to my Memaw’s back porch. Raised garden beds filled with green plants and freshly grown vegetables lined either side of the little walkway. I could hear the squeak of her rocking chair as I approached the porch.
“Hannah Marie, you better get on up here and tell me what’s the matter with you. I could hear you hollerin’ all the way down the road.”
I sniffed, rubbing my tear-stained face with the back of my hand. How the old woman knew I’d been crying was a mystery. I hadn’t even made a sound as I’d raced from our house and around the pond that was in the back of our property to the little gate that separated our place from Memaw’s.
“I wasn’t cryin’, Memaw.” I pouted stubbornly as I approached the patio. She sat in her old rocking chair, a large white bowl placed next to her on a small wooden table and at her feet was a sack filled to the brim with freshly picked green beans. She’d grab a handful, snap the ends off with nimble fingers and fling them in the bowl. Rock, reach, snap, snap, drop. Over and over again until the bowl was full, or she’d run out of beans.
“Don’t sass me, girl. You don’t think I didn’t watch you run all the way over here like your tail was on fire? I thought you were supposed to be having a sleepover with friends today.”
I climbed the steps and dropped onto a low stool next to her. She didn’t pause in her rhythm, just scooted the sack of beans closer to me and gave me a nudge with her shoe. “Go on, get you a handful and tell me about it. What did your sister do this time?”
“Nothing.” I grabbed a handful of beans and settled into the rhythmic ritual that had become our almost daily habit. When the world felt off, I could almost always count on my Memaw to set it right.
“Hannah, God don’t like liars. Tell me what happened.”
“That’s just it Memaw. Nothing happened. Sybil didn’t do anything this time.”
My grandmother paused her rocking. “Well, what in the world has got your britches in a twist? And don’t tell me nothin’, cuz somethin’ happened or you wouldn’t be here bothering me.” She huffed and the rock, reach, snap, snap continued on.
“It’s my friends Memaw.. They don’t even know I exist when Sybil is around.”
“So tell your sister to get lost.” The gruff and direct voice made me almost smile. Memaw was no nonsense in a way that I wished I could be. Maybe that’s why I’d come to her to begin with.
“I can’t Memaw. Sybil doesn’t actually do anything. She’s just there. But when she’s there, I’m not.” I looked down at the beans I’d been snapping and sighed.
My Memaw said nothing for a moment, but when she did speak her voice was quiet but firm. “Hannah Marie Kelly, you are not invisible and no one can make you feel that way unless you give them that power.” She reached down and grabbed my chin in her gnarled hands and I breathed in the familiar scent of lotion and earth. “When you decide to stop giving her the power to dictate who you are, then you’ll discover just how bright you can shine. You are light, Hannah, and the dark has always been afraid of the light. It’s why it tries to cover it up.”
For the second time in twenty-four hours, I woke to someone in my room. Only this time, the darkness didn’t feel like danger, and the room wasn’t really mine. Michael and Rue had brought me back to the team penthouse for the night and I’d only agreed to stay after they’d insisted it was the safest place for me to be for the time being. After showering and removing the blood and scent of gunpowder from my body, I’d collapsed on the guest room bed in exhaustion. But sleep hadn’t come easily and after tossing and turning, I’d finally drifted off.
My heart hurt at the memory of my Memaw. It wasn’t just a dream I’d had. Something about her words and the memory from my childhood stayed with me. Was Sybil really afraid of me? What was it about me that had made her hate me so much? What did I represent that she couldn’t have? I blinked in the dim, early morning sunlight that was filtering through my drapes and sighed.
“If you came to tell me ‘I told you so.’ You’d better have brought coffee and a donut to go along with it.”
A deep chuckle filled the room, and I watched as his tall figure emerged from the shadows, with a coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. “It’s not an ‘I told you so.’ But more of a peace offering.”
I sat up; the covers falling from my shoulders, and scooted back against my pillows as he approached.
“I thought you were off on a quest for Abrams?” I took the coffee and donut from him as he slid onto the bed next to me.
“I told Abrams to call off his hounds for a little while longer. This was more important.” Dark grey eyes glinted in the low light, and a soft smile turned at the corner of his lips. “I don’t like things left unfinished or unsaid.”
The coffee was hot and rich dark mocha and I nearly groaned out loud in satisfaction, but paused at his words. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I left you without finishing what I’d promised.” His smile sharpened, white teeth glinting like a predator, and I snorted.
“Si, stop. It was a stupid, silly game we shouldn’t have played. It’s ok if you didn’t mean it.”
