Even if that evil man’s voice lives in my head forever, I refuse to listen to his lies. I don’t care if he’s right or wrong. I’ll think like a free person and do what makes my family happy.
It won’t always be easy. I struggled with Kai in the bedroom. Sex feels good, but it also feels a little like the rapes. They both involve the same parts and stuff, so my brain kept imagining that people were watching like they did at the homestead. As much as I want Kai to fuck away all my bad thoughts, he keeps reminding me how there’s no magic fix. I’ll have to trust him because I’m not sure I can always trust myself.
After a delicious dinner in a dining room where everyone sits together and eats like a family, we move to the main room with the TV. We don’t watch anything, though. Neri plays Motown songs for Cobain, who seems sad or angry. It’s hard to tell with him.
Kai and his father stand near the front windows, talking about tomorrow. I can’t hear them, but they don’t seem upset.
After digging around her suitcase, Mia reveals three boxes of puzzles for us to play. I choose the one with the ocean because that’s where I get to live with Kai and his family. Anika helps me at first with the puzzle, but the pieces are too small and look too much alike.
“This one, Mama?” she asks, handing me piece after piece. I notice her getting frustrated when none of them are right.
Like magic, Kai swoops her into his arms, so they can dance to a song called, “The Tears of a Clown” by a singer named Smokey Robinson & The Miracles. Anika holds on so tight, loving his hugs as much as I do. Then he dips her like he did me at Cobain’s safe house, and she giggles. Laughing too, Kai looks so happy that I can forget about how tomorrow we’ll face more bad people and then fly on an airplane.
Kai promises he’ll help me stay calm, and I trust him, but I’m still scared. This house isn’t his home, but it’s where I first had real sex with a man I love. It’s where Anika danced and played. It’s where I met Mia and Jake. Even though I’m still not sure if Kai’s father likes me, his mom already makes me feel special.
“I’ll show you how to do everything,” she promises when I ask about living at her house. “You didn’t have a mama for a long time, but I’ll be your mama.”
“And a grandma to Ani,” Kai says from nearby.
Mia smiles wider and looks at Jake. “I’m a grandma now.” Her husband chuckles at her excitement, and his smile widens when she says, “And you’re a grandpa.”
While Jake scares me sometimes, I think he’s just like Cobain. They wear mean faces, but they’re not cruel like the men at the homestead. Jake and Cobain act angry on the outside to make people leave them alone.
Cobain doesn’t even smile much for Neri, but he watches her as if she’s the most important thing in the world. Kai is open about how his heart feels, but Jake and Cobain hide what’s inside. That’s just the way men like them work.
Which is why I’m surprised when Cobain speaks to me. He won’t even look in my direction most days, and that’s okay. I only really want Kai to look at me. Even though I’m intimidated by Cobain, I try not to seem afraid when he mentions my name.
“Sunny, do you know what happens to people who attack safe houses owned by the Arizona Moving Company?” When I shake my head, he looks amused even though he doesn’t smile. “They get fucked hard. Your cult friends won’t be around much longer.”
“What will they do?” I ask as Kai still bounces Anika in his arms.
“My guess and this is just a guess since I’ve never been a part of their execute teams. But I bet they’ll show up at your old compound with a twelve-man, four-unit team. Hit the place at night, kill anyone armed. Likely all the men. If the women in the cult were fighters, they’d kill them too. Then the team would disappear as quickly as they appeared.”
“I’ve loved to see that,” Neri says, smiling at Kai.
“Now it’s possible,” Cobain says, scratching at his beard, “that they’ll send the Feds to do their dirty work. I’ve heard of them using that tactic, but this situation really requires a more personal touch from the Company. Violent nuts respond better to blood and pain than law and order.”
“What if Jedidiah says he didn’t know the safe house belonged to the Arizona Company?” I ask.
“Doesn’t matter. I lived at their safe house for a decade, taking care of their property. I sent a message to headquarters about the attack. Who are they going to believe? Besides, appearances matter more than facts. If the Company looks weak, they’re asking for more push back all over the world. They’ve been around since before I was born. Longevity isn’t afforded those who accept the word of cult leaders.”
I smile at the thought of Jedidiah feeling fear. More than once, I’ve wondered if Jacob was one of the men who died when the safe house exploded. I’ll never know for sure who died, but Cobain’s words give me great pleasure. When Jedidiah lectures me in my head, I’ll imagine him begging like he made me beg.
≫EIGHT SPENT SHELLS≪
KAI
On our final morning at the safe house, Ani doesn’t want to wake up. She looks at me with her big brown eyes and asks for more sleep. Though telling her no breaks my heart, I feel like a proud papa when she gets up without a fuss.
Last night, we packed up most of our supplies in the two SUVs—Cobain’s Yukon and the safe house’s black Suburban to replace the one shot up days ago. This morning, we enjoy a quick, light breakfast and move our final bags into the vehicles.
As the rain dies down outside, Mama gets gung-ho with prepping the back seat. She pushes the armor plate against one door and then organizes Ani’s blanket and pillows.
Papa reassures Mama that her snow globes are safely packed in the suitcases tucked in the third-row seats. Then he plants a kiss on her lips and reminds her to stay calm.
“I’m in charge of Sunny and Ani,” Mama tells him, and he smiles in that way Papa only smiles for her.
With Mama on one side and Sunny on the other, Ani dozes off as soon as we start driving. I’m at the wheel of the Suburban while Papa watches for threats. Behind us, Neri drives the Yukon. She wanted to ride shotgun with Cobain at the wheel. Her theory was if someone needed to hang out of the window and fire on enemies that she’d fit better than Cobain.
Papa shot down that idea immediately. Imagining her so exposed created a crack in his calm exterior. Cobain wasn’t much better.
“You’re a better driver,” he said, trying to force the keys in her hand.
“Liar.”
“Okay, it’s true that I’m a better driver and a better shot. If I must choose what I’m best at, though, it’s taking a bullet from some skinhead. Now take the keys,” he insisted.
Despite approving of Cobain’s response, Papa hid that support from the other man. Later, as the sun comes up, Papa opens up to me by admitting the obvious with, “I don’t like Cobain.”
“I can understand that.”
“But I think he’s suited for your sister.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised by his sudden shift.