Sydney
Gripping the pregnancy test in my hand, I can’t stop staring at the blue cross in the window.
I’m pregnant.
Tears start to roll, hot and slow, down my cheeks. I crouch, my knees cracking as I huddle in a low ball, emotion bowing me. My dog, Blue, whines and presses against my side, his warm tongue laving my cheek, his musky scent enveloping me. A familiar comfort.
Will my child love Blue as I do?
My phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, and I hiccup a sob. Squeezing my eyes shut, pressing more tears free, I hold my breath. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart throbs in my chest…a tidal wave is washing me away. I can’t do this.
The soft ping of a voicemail brings my eyes open. I’m staring at the cross again.
Blue shifts closer, leaning his warm weight against me. As tall as a Great Dane, with the elegant snout of a collie, the markings of a wolf, and mismatched eyes—one blue the other brown—Blue means the world to me.
My heart will have to make room for more.
But everyone I love dies.
Fear slices through me, adrenaline flooding my veins and bringing another soft whine from Blue. Standing quickly, the adrenaline demanding action, I glance at my phone.
Robert Maxim.
He can’t know. My eyes trace to the trash can of the hotel bathroom. Wrap up the test and put it in there.
But my hand won’t follow the advice. My fingers grip tighter, refusing to release the small wand of plastic. The proof. The truth.
Grabbing my phone off the counter, I step back into the hotel room. Blue stays close to my hip, his nose tapping my waist once, a gentle reminder he is there.
I shove the plastic wand into my bag, pushing it into a zipper interior pocket and closing it up. Locking it away.
Just throw it out.
I can’t.
My hand strays to my stomach, and Blue’s nose swipes against my fingers. Vision blurred with tears, I stand in the center of the hotel room, my mind reeling. Lightning sizzles across my vision, and thunder ricochets inside my mind.
Oh fuck me.
Robert
Sydney is not picking up.
My hold on the phone tightens. I close my eyes and take in a slow, deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and consciously unclenching my hand. The news anchor on the television sounds gleeful as he predicts the devastation of the coming storm.
South Florida has never seen floods like this before.
Sydney picked a hell of a week to take some alone time. The mansion on Star Island—an enclave for the richest of the rich in Miami—is hollow without her. Dammit. I never needed company before.
My three marriages made this house feel overly full—full of clothing and shoes and purses and jewelry. Full of expectations and conversations. They all wanted so much from me.
I’m not a good husband. I don’t love and cherish; I procure and protect. Each wife understood the deal before the wedding, yet inevitably found me lacking. Cold, inhuman, cruel even.
My pampered wives never knew cruelty. But they must have understood my capacity for it.
Sydney isn’t my wife, but she knows me. Really knows me.
Blue’s puppies, Nila and Frank, whom Sydney left with me because one giant dog is enough hassle for most hotels, shift at the sound of footsteps approaching my office. Nila’s low growl wakes Frank, who rolls over and promptly passes out again. A guard dog he is not.
A light knock. Must be José, my chef. “Come in.”
A Cuban immigrant, with a head of hair like Elvis, would envy steps into my home office. “Can I get you anything?” he asks.
I have no appetite for food but a smile turns my lips. José cares about me—worries like a mother hen. “Some toast, please.” José nods and turns to leave. “Brock told you the evacuation plans?”
“Yes,” José nods. “I’ll go with the rest of the staff. Is Sydney back yet?”
My sour mood floods back. “No, I can’t get ahold of her.”
“You’ll reach her, sir.”
I wave a hand of dismissal, staring at my computer screen. Glancing at my watch—a gold Rolex I bought back in ’98 when I made my first million—I note the time. If I don’t hear from her in ten, I’ll hunt her down.
A man can only take so much.
Sydney
“A storm is coming,” Robert’s voice is calm, but his words bolt terror through me. He knows. “Miami is under an evacuation order. Traffic will be hell. We’ll take the helicopter. Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up.” I don’t respond. “Funny—” He pauses, and I can hear the TV in the background. “They named the hurricane Joy.” My birth name.
My mother’s face flashes across my mind's eye—thin from her recent injuries, her eyes the same startling gray as mine, lit with a similar fervor.
Robert sighs. “I’m not trying to cut your solo time short, Sydney. I can’t control the weather.” He sounds disappointed in himself for the shortcoming, and that brings a smile to my lips.
All-powerful Robert Maxim can’t control the weather. And he hasn’t read my mind. My secret is zipped into a pocket of my bag. The storm is not a metaphor but an actual hurricane bearing down on Florida.
“I’m at the Jubilee Hotel,” My throat is still raw from the crying I did earlier, and my voice comes out gritty. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that; you’re usually such a stalker control freak.”
Robert huffs out a laugh. “I’m working on those tendencies.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, and Blue leans against my leg. “Thanks for calling.” I clear my throat, emotion roughening my voice. “For looking out for me.”
I’ve never thanked him. Probably because he’s tried to kill me almost as many times as he’s saved me. But still…in his own way Robert Maxim cares. We’ve taken a long and twisted road marred by potholes, fallen trees, and loose electric wires but the journey has cemented a close friendship. We understand each other.
“You’re welcome.” There is a note of surprise in his voice. He didn’t expect my gratitude. I’m not good at thank yous, or goodbyes…or any of that normal, healthy emotional stuff. “Brock will be there soon.” Robert references his head of home security.
My next call is Dan. As the phone rings across the thousands of miles between us, I play with one of Blue’s velvety ears.
“Hey,” Dan’s voice is thick with sleep. “Everything okay?”
No! "Sure, sorry if I woke you." I glance at the clock on the side table. It's 2 p.m. here, which means it's 4 a.m. where Dan is, on an island in the middle of the Pacific. It serves as the headquarters for Joyful Justice—the vigilante organization we founded together.
"No worries." He’s sounding more awake now. Dan is a computer hacker/genius and often keeps strange hours. If he gets sucked into a project, Dan stays up for days at a time.
“I wanted to check in and see if you had a line on Mulberry…” My voice drifts off into nothingness. Mulberry is another founding member of Joyful Justice and the father of my child. Holy shit.
Mulberry is avoiding me for some valid reasons—after almost dying while searching for me in ISIS-controlled territory, Mulberry lost part of his leg and a lot of his memories. He didn’t remember me or any of the trauma we’d experienced together. Mulberry reunited with his ex-wife, and I let him. I didn’t fight for him. I should have told him the truth. That I loved him…and he loved me.
Instead, I tried to let him have a safe and “normal” life. A laugh gurgles in my chest at how ridiculous that sounds even as a thought in my head, let alone as a sentence spoken out loud. When Mulberry’s memories came flooding back, so did a tidal wave of anger…at me. So, yes, he has valid reasons to avoid my calls, but now I’ve got a life-altering bomb to drop on him.
“He’s still in the wind,” Dan says. “He knows I’m looking for him. Took out a bunch of cash and either isn’t using a phone or has a burner.”
I chew on my lip, staring at Blue. His eyes are closed, his dark lashes fanned over his white fur, as he luxuriates in the ear petting. “Okay, thanks.”
“Don’t worry,” Dan says. I hear him shifting in bed, his voice lowering to calm and comfort me. “He’ll turn up.”
The last time Mulberry and I saw each other. When… my gaze shifts from Blue to my stomach… Mulberry told me he wanted to be a part of Joyful Justice again. But then he ghosted us. And that is difficult to do. “I need to talk to him. Please Dan, find him.”
“I’ll keep looking.” Dan promises.
“Thank you.” We hang up, and I watch Blue for another beat before picking myself up. Brock will be here soon. Eventually, I will tell Dan and the rest of the Joyful Justice council that I’m pregnant. But for now I’ve got a city to escape and a secret to keep.