“Horus was well aware of that. He honestly didn’t think it would work. None of us did. Ken and Amara tried first and couldn’t open the portal. Ken was the one who had designed the portal, so naturally we thought they could open it. Even for Horus and Ken, the idea was too farfetched. You can imagine how shocked we were when it worked for us,” Anat said.
“Zyah and—I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” François said.
“My family calls me Player,” he supplied.
“Player, then. If it got out about this, any government or terrorist group would come after both of you in a heartbeat. You know that.”
“I know. It was always meant to be destroyed. I just didn’t think anyone else could ever open it or even read it,” Anat admitted.
“Did you tell anyone about this?” François asked Player.
“Several of my family members know. They’re here now,” Player said. “I’m in a club. Czar, our president, is here. A few others. Mechanic, Savage, Destroyer, Ink, Storm.”
Observing the absolute dismay on François’s face as each man moved into sight and then out again, Anat tried to assure him. “These are good boys. I was robbed and beaten and they took care of me. Player was shot preventing Zyah from being kidnapped. They’ll do whatever it takes to protect us, François. And I intend to destroy the drawing after talking to you. I don’t want to, because I love it so much, but this has shown me that it is much too dangerous to have around. The club thinks it needs to be destroyed as well.”
“I think it best, maman. I’m sorry that you’ll lose Horus’s drawing when it means so much to you, but I did buy a ticket, and I’m coming to see you. It isn’t the same, but having your son back might help.”
“It more than helps,” Anat assured. “You have two beautiful daughters and a son of your own.”
“I do. My wife is an incredible woman. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I haven’t told them anything about why I’m traveling to the United States. I didn’t know what was happening with the portal at the time I purchased the ticket, so I was traveling alone.”
“When are you coming?” Anat asked, nearly holding her breath.
“I’m flying out tomorrow.” Again, François’s voice was very decisive.
Player glanced at Czar. That didn’t give Code much time to find out very much about Anat’s son. As far as the club was concerned, Anat was theirs. Their grandmother. That meant they took care of her. They protected her. She clearly loved this man. She’d raised him from the time he was an infant, and she’d done everything to protect him, but seventeen years had gone by and he hadn’t reached out to her. He hadn’t found a way to send her money or help. They had a code. It was different and they knew that, but still, it was the way they lived. Czar was already texting, filling Code in, telling him to put everything aside until they knew what they could about François.
“I can’t wait to see you, François,” Anat reiterated. “We will be destroying the drawing as soon as we close the portal, so we won’t be able to contact each other this way.”
“You have my contact information, correct?” François said.
She nodded. “And you have mine?”
“Yes. Je t’aime, maman.”
“I love you, François,” Anat whispered. She glanced back at Zyah and Player. There were tears in her eyes.
Player released his hold on Zyah and put a little distance between them. At once the inside of the drawing began to color in. The process was slow, but it was impossible to see François. Where there had been darkness, light began to shine through, leaving the lines of charcoal to fill in. Player, watching, found it a fascinating procedure. Eventually, the drawing was just that again, an intricate, beautiful picture surrounded by an intriguing frame.
All of them stood behind Anat’s wheelchair, staring at Horus’s drawing for a long time. Destroyer leaned close to Anat. “You ready? Let’s go out to the yard.”
She nodded and reached back to pat his hand. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Zyah followed behind the chair and Player took the picture off the wall. He dreaded burning it almost as much as the women did. It really was priceless, but it was too dangerous to keep. He carried the framed picture out to the pit dug in the ground and lined with rocks, already waiting. The fuel, branches of dried oak and redwood, was stacked. Storm lit the tented smaller twigs, and Player waited for the larger branches to catch fire before putting the picture, facedown, on top of it. He didn’t wait, nor did he show it again to the women.
Zyah reached her hand out to Anat and then leaned close to her, circling her neck with her arm. Player stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Savage and Destroyer both pressed close to Anat to give her comfort while they all watched the picture burn. When it was completely consumed by the flames, Anat looked up at Destroyer.
“I’m tired. Would you mind taking me back to Lizz’s house?”
“Not at all, Anat,” Destroyer said.
“I’ll go with you,” Zyah volunteered.
Anat patted her hand. “Lizz loves you dearly, Zyah, but she isn’t quite ready to see too much of you. She doesn’t need reminders of Francine’s treachery right now. You stay with Player. The two of you need time together. Let a couple of old women grieve together. Tomorrow François will be here and we’ll have a fine celebration, although I don’t know when I’ll have my home back.”
“We can use my home,” Player said.
“Or mine,” Czar said. “Or the clubhouse. You tell me what you want and it’s yours, Anat. Alena will let us use the restaurant as well.”
Anat blinked back tears. “You’re all very good to me.”
Player thought it was the other way around. He drew Zyah close as they watched Destroyer put Anat in the van. The club helped him put out the fire, and then they left, leaving him alone with his woman.
Player sat on the edge of the bed, his pounding head in his hands. His body was covered in sweat. He was never going to be rid of the nightmares. Never. They’d lessened with Zyah sleeping beside him, but nothing was going to erase his past. Careful not to disturb her, he padded to the shower, hoping the hot water would relieve the terrible jackhammers threatening to rip his brain apart.
“Water on,” he ordered. “Lights dim. Blue.” He felt almost sick with pain.
Resting his forehead against the tile with his arms spread out, bracing himself with his hands on the walls of the shower, he let the water spray over his body from every direction. Above him, the multiple rows of shower heads rained down on him, providing a gentle rain that encompassed the entire large enclosure. Four of the side shower heads pulsed harder into his body, massaging his muscles. He hoped that would distract him from the pounding in his head.
“Honey. You should have woken me up.” Zyah’s arms slid around his waist. She pressed her breasts to his back. She was short enough that her soft mounds fit quite snugly into the curve of his back above his buttocks. “I don’t like that you don’t wake me when you have nightmares. This isn’t the first time.”