Chapter 10

 

THE CEILING FAN whirred overhead with lazy long swoops of the wide blades. The ceiling was dark wood slats reminding Renee of a sauna as she stared up at it from her position in the booth. A dimly lit sauna where people were dressed and they had alcohol.

She giggled. Maybe she was a little bit under the influence of said liquor.

It was Ewan Fitzpatrick’s fault. Yup. He was one of the team in the investigative arm of CIG. A fine agent, a big jock, with a smooth Texan twang. At least sometimes. In fact, she didn’t know where he was from originally but she doubted it was Texas. The wonders of working incognito.

Anyway, the lug was responsible for dragging her sorry butt into the slatted, sauna-esque dive of a bar that the CIG lovingly called Dusty’s.

Boy, they were so original.

“Renee, you want another?” Fitzpatrick asked.

Renee dropped her head downward to focus on him. Why he was all wavy she didn’t know but it gave her the hiccups.

“Why not?”

Fitzpatrick shot her a dashing grin. It was the same old routine. He’d try and get her drunk enough to find him attractive and they’d both wind up asleep in the booth they sat in. They could have changed it up a bit, you know, like sit in another booth but why bother.

It was too hot to bother.

Fitzpatrick staggered off to the bar. Renee felt a breeze tickle her arms and chuckled at it before turning to see a small woman with short white hair grinning at her.

Renee grinned back, wondering why she could see her but couldn’t actually see her. It was weird. She looked a bit transparent in parts and every time she moved she faded. Renee stared down at her glass. Clearly it was good stuff.

“Well, Blondie, hope you like headaches ’cause the way you’re knocking them back, it’s gonna stay awhile.”

Renee attempted to cock her head. She twinged a muscle in her neck at the floppy-doll movement. “Nan?”

“One in the same. I ain’t got all day to sit around in a bar so listen up.”

Renee leaned in to do so, slipping off her hand and thwacking her head on the table. That was going to hurt tomorrow.

A shot of cold air along her spine made her snap her head up. Nan laughed as she twinged her back.

“Darlin’, you ain’t got the legs to hold your liquor.”

Renee nodded. Nan bounced about before her eyes. So drunk.

“You remember that note I left you?” Nan said, her hazy image frowning at her.

“The one where you told me I was a basket?” Renee giggled. Her ears buzzed.

Nan sighed. “You want me to come back when you’re sober?”

Renee straightened up. Nope. No way. Long dead people were only fun to chat to when inebriated. “Shoot.”

“Shorty has some growin’ to do.” She held up her hand. “In the head before you start worrying.”

Thank goodness for that. It was hard enough trying to buy clothes for her now.

“You remember when I said if you told her how you felt that she’d bolt like her mother?”

Renee knew every single word of the note. She read it . . . a lot . . . okay, so every night. “Yup.”

“I weren’t kiddin’ around. Her grandma and her momma were the same.”

Renee held up her finger, wondering why it looked wavier than Nan. “You’re her grandmother . . . aren’t you?”

“No, I’m her Nan.” Nan reached out and touched her, causing goose bumps to ripple all the way up her arm.

“Where did Lilia’s mother go?” Why was Lilia so hard to say when she was drunk. Lili. Lali. Lily-yah.

“Focus, Blondie.” Nan shot another cold ripple up her back. “My daughter, Bess, had a bit of a free spirit. I raised her good an’ proper . . .” Renee chuckled. Free spirit, that was funny. “ . . . and my brothers were all good men, God rest their souls.”

There were more Loreleis? Ooh, Lorelei was even harder to say. Lor-rell-lees, Lor—

“So, Bess, wherever she may be, left . . .”

Renee nodded realizing that she may just have missed a lot.

“I ain’t seen her here so she’s still walking around causing trouble some place.” Nan narrowed her eyes like she knew Renee was miles away. “When Lilia did pretty much the same, I started seeing a pattern. An’ Shorty got the same taste for fleeing.”

“I thought Lilia left to join the CIG?” Renee was sure that was noble not fleeing, even if it had hurt Aeron.

“Sure, but when she was a teenager, she was wilder than Bess an’ we ain’t got a clue where she gets it from.” Something in Nan’s eyes said that she wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful.

She had eyes exactly like Aeron’s.

Aeron. Renee went to lean on her fist, missed and smacked her head on the table again.

Yup, that would leave a bruise.

“Although I love learning about you all, I’m guessing you are here to tell me something?” She was impressed how sober that sounded. A bit slurred in places and she was sure that a lot of her s sounds had become “shounds” but it was a great effort.

“Shorty is gonna haul attitude your way but I want you to remember, that no matter what dumb things she does while she’s figuring things out, she cares more for you than anybody else, including herself.”

Renee smiled. It was dopey. She couldn’t help it. “It’s a nice thought, Nan, but—”

“No buts.” Nan placed a non-existent finger over her lips. It tingled. “You got some growing to do yourself. So just bear it in mind. You got that?”

“I’m thirty five.” Renee squinted at her fingers. It was as close to five as she could manage. “I’m all grown.”

“Uh huh.”

Renee tried to fold her arms and missed, punching the edge of the booth. “You don’t think?”

“A grown woman don’t get hammered in a bar. She don’t get all flushed when folks think things of her.”

Renee stared back up at the ceiling. “Don’t you start, I’ve had the ‘get over yourself’ talk from Urs . . . ooo . . . oolah.”

Nan chuckled. “Then consider yourself told. An’ Blondie?”

She could hear Nan’s voice fading and rolled her head to catch a few remaining wavy dots. “She’s a flight risk when mad but she got a good heart. She cares.”

Renee smiled. “Right, no judgment, grow up, don’t tell her anything. Check.”

Somewhere, way over . . . well there, Renee could hear Nan chuckle. She chuckled too, knowing somewhere in her logical mind that she may have just become insane.

“Just,” she slurred to herself. “Been there a while, I’d say.”

Thinking too much hurt, but Renee made the effort to try and memorize Nan’s advice. Aeron had attitude. She knew that. She met her in Serenity Hills when posing as her psychiatrist.

Aeron Lorelei had a bucket load of it.

That made her grin.

There was nothing wrong with being fiery. Nope.

Aeron was trouble or had trouble with fleeing, she couldn’t remember. She’d go with trouble? Well, Aeron’s past did give that one credence. Before she’d been locked away, Aeron had a rap sheet longer than Renee cared to look too deeply into. Sam had led her into trouble but she got the feeling that Aeron didn’t need a lot of persuading.

Trouble. Attitude.

A flight risk. Lilia had left, and if she wasn’t hallucinating or crazy then the grandmother had done the same. Which meant Aeron could bolt for the hills at any moment. Renee wasn’t too sure about that. She’d wanted to stay in Oppidum. She’d wanted to stay in St. Jude’s. If anything, Aeron was happy to be rooted, somewhere, anywhere.

Nope, she’d cross that one off, whatever the Nan delusion or hallucination said. She peered at her glass. Could tequila make you hallucinate?

Aeron had a good heart and she cared. Renee was convinced of that. Aeron had the biggest heart. She was so sweet and loving that she suffered for it sometimes.

“To help her grow, you need to grow yourself.” Renee wagged her finger in the air as she told herself. “That means try being a professional.”

She needed to be a good example. A responsible guide and leader. Someone who Aeron could count on for impartial advice yet never crossed over boundaries.

The door to the bar opened sending a blast of wind at Renee and she nodded to herself in agreement. From now on she was a commander, a professional.

“Hey, Renee, don’t look now but you got a mountain heading in your direction.”

At Fitzpatrick’s weird announcement, Renee peeked over at the door.

Aeron.

Aeron in a biker jacket and jeans. Her hair swept out of her face. A twinkle in her eyes, and a v-necked white t-shirt showing off every muscle she had.

Renee’s heart did some odd happy dance. She groaned and thunked her head to the table.

Professional, right.

Good luck with that.

 

SEEING RENEE SMACK her head on the table, I hurried over to her. She was dressed up in a military skirt suit, the jacket draped over the edge of the booth and her shirt rolled up to the elbows. She wasn’t impeccable like always and she looked . . . well . . . kinda inebriated.

“You okay, you need me to get you somethin’?” I sat opposite her, wondering why she’d needed to drown herself in—I picked up the glass and smelled it—tequila or near it.

Renee shook her head, which succeeded in making her roll her head around on the surface. Her blonde hair draped into whatever goop covered the table top.

“You eaten?” Maybe if I got some food inside her she would sober up a bit.

“Black doesn’t need food,” Fitzpatrick slurred at me as he stood next to the booth, wobbling. He wore a suit, unlike Renee. Some folks on the base didn’t wear uniforms. I never got why. “She’s got a date with Jack.” He shook a whiskey glass.

“No, she ain’t.” I got up and went around to her. She looked green. I weren’t a fan of folks drinking. Usually, being around them made me feel a bit wobbly too. “Renee, you eaten?”

She picked her head up with her hands to peer up at me, a bar mat stuck to her cheek. “This morning count?”

I pulled her sleeve up and checked her watch. “It’s half past eight.” Trying my best not to glare, I focused on Fitzpatrick. “When did you start drinking?”

He grinned and downed his glass. He had spilled I didn’t know what down the front of his shirt. “Liquid lunch.”

Great.

“Well, you’ve had enough.” I hoisted Renee up into my arms and flicked her jacket over her. No way was she gonna be able to walk. “We’re gonna get some food in you and water . . .” The wave of alcohol hit me as she clung on. The woman had drunk half of the Mississippi I swore.

“Nan says hi,” she slurred into my shoulder as I carried her out into the cool air. “You’re trouble, Lorelei.”

“That’s what she says, huh?” I doubted Renee had seen anything. One, she couldn’t and two, she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

“Yup. Did you know your Nan was your great-grandma?” She nodded when I looked down at her. “She ran off . . . like Lilia.”

I didn’t know that. I mean, I hadn’t even known if Nan was related to me at all until she’d said so in a letter. “Where’d she go?”

“Nan doesn’t know. She said I need to grow up.”

Either I wasn’t getting it or Renee was talking drunk. I went with the latter as she didn’t have the ability to see nothing. Before she met me, she didn’t think folks could either. If you didn’t count my mother.

“’Cause you can’t stand?”

Renee nodded, her cheek still had pieces of mat stuck to it. “And I’m thirty-five. Grown-ups do not get hammered, do you know that?”

“Sometimes they do but for a reason, or if they got a problem.” Renee didn’t have a problem, I knew that much. I hadn’t ever seen her drink more than a glass come to think of it.

“The reason is that I’m thirty-five.” She lolled her head back against my arm. Her jacket slid and I caught it before it dropped onto the ground. 

“I got that but why does that particular age make you drink?”

She grinned up at me. She tried to tuck my hair behind my ear for me but instead poked me in the eye. “It’s today,” she whispered.

Today? She held onto my shoulders as I freed up one hand to fish in her pockets for her keys. “Your birthday?”

She nodded, head butting me as she did so. “Yup. Old maid.”

Guilt hit me in the gut with a shovel. “You kiddin’ me?”

“It’s not that old.” She wagged her finger at me and I managed to catch her before she clattered to the floor. It weren’t easy juggling a floppy birthday girl and trying to open a door. “I’ll have you know that some people think older is attractive.”

“You turning into one of those women who whine about stuff?” I teased, getting the door to budge on the second attempt. “Next thing you’re gonna be asking me if your butt looks big in jeans.”

Renee craned her head around as if trying to examine the area in question. “Does it?”

“You’re wearing a skirt.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh. I carried her inside and placed her on the sofa, trying to figure out how I could have been such a fool. How could I have missed her birthday?

“You want something to eat?” I couldn’t burn toast but I hoped she had leftovers in the fridge.

“Nope.”

“You’re gonna get a bad head. Will you at least drink some water?” The heat felt like it was stuck on high. Renee would be dehydrated or sick or something. Maybe Doctor Andrews should come check her out?

“What you worrying over, Lorelei. I get wasted every year.” Renee grinned up at me, kicking off her heels. “Tomorrow I whine, then it’s all forgotten.”

I picked up her jacket and thumbed over all the colored bars on the breast. I didn’t get it. Renee was a commander, she always did things the right way—well, most of the time. I didn’t get how somebody so set on guarding herself would get hammered in full view of the base. I didn’t like it. Sure, most in there had been liquored up too, but she wasn’t like that. It didn’t sit right and I didn’t get it. 

“You’re drinking water.” I stomped over to the cupboard. Why would she be so weird about birthdays? I never celebrated mine. I got why some folks wouldn’t want to neither but marking it with poisoning yourself and getting sick for a day didn’t seem clever. And, there was one thing about Renee I’d always been able to count on is that she was clever. I took the glass over to her and poured some of it over her as she fought me before drinking it.

“You happy now?” Her shirt soaked through, she had water dribbling down her chin and her hair smattered across her face.

“Happy? Not even close.”

“Don’t be mad.” Renee pulled me into a hug, thwacking the glass against my cheek on the way past. At this rate I’d be the one needing to see Doctor Andrews.

“You never told me it was your birthday.”

She smiled up at me, kissed me on the forehead and her head lolled back. Thank goodness she started snoring louder than the Harley or I would have been worried.

With a sigh, I lifted her upward and took her into the bedroom, trying to figure out how to change her into something that wouldn’t leave marks when she slept.

She didn’t make it easy neither. Trying to stick her in an oversized Broncos’ jersey felt like tussling with a WWE wrestler. Who made women’s clothes and why did they make the zips so tiny? With my mitts it was impossible.

After completing my mission, I flopped her back and plumped up the pillows for her before slumping onto the bottom of the bed to catch my breath. I was gonna note this date for the simple reason that I would need some kind of physical training to attempt that again.

“Aeron?”

Torn between throttling her and demanding to know why she hadn’t told me it was her birthday, I grunted a response.

“I’m cold.”

“You can’t be cold, it’s ninety degrees in here.” I took off my leather jacket, realizing maybe that’s why it felt that way.

“Stop being mad and cuddle.”

I shook my head at her. Back in Oppidum, I’d been pretty tired after my birthday. I hadn’t wanted to be alone either after surviving Sam. No doubt she was going through the same. I didn’t need burdens to hear the fear in her voice.

“Comin’.” I snuck out to my place where I picked up a shirt and shorts to wear before heading back. Renee was snoring again by the time I got there.

“You still need me to stay or can I—?”

“Please.”

I sighed. Least I could do, seeming as I hadn’t even got a card for her. “You got a lot of explaining to do, dimwit.”

Renee chuckled and flopped her leg over mine as I squeezed in, and snored onto my shoulder. It was nine in the evening. I weren’t tired. I pulled a book from her side table and read the back cover.

Some slushy romance.

“What is it with you an’ France,” I mumbled as I opened it up.

“Born there,” Renee mumbled back.

I raised my eyebrows even though I knew she had her eyes shut. “How come?”

“Dad was stationed there for three years. Mom went with him.” She snuggled in closer. I had to laugh, considering she was drunk, exhausted, and snoring in fits, she could still carry on a conversation. Whether any of it was close to accurate, alcohol accounted for, I didn’t know.

“Where?” Not that I knew France from Dakota.

“Monaco, it’s a principality but they speak French.” Renee’s voice got heavier as her breathing slowed. I hoped it was her falling asleep. Either way I was gonna be checking on her every five minutes.

I hadn’t heard much of Monaco. Maybe this book would tell me something ’cause getting anything out of Renee was harder than changing her into bedclothes.

“Happy birthday, dimwit,” I whispered as she set off roaring again. “Maybe next time, we can get you through it sober.”