Indigo Sky

CHAPTER TWENTY

With Kate in my arms, sleep should've been good. It should've been restful. I should've woken up feeling like a million bucks. But it wasn't, and I didn't.

Instead, every restless dream was flooded by a whistled tune I couldn't pinpoint, but somehow recognized, and after every single one, I awoke with a shuddered gasp and a frantic search to make sure she was still here. She always was, sleeping peacefully, and I always fell back to sleep, just to wake up what felt like moments later.

It was bullshit.

But then Kate woke up moments after I did. She rolled over within my encircled arms and pressed a kiss to my mouth, so full of electricity that any part of me that might've been dead was zapped to life at the moment of impact. She hummed with satisfaction, scraping her nails through my chest hair and smiling against my lips.

"Best sleep ever," she muttered before kissing me again.

I didn't have the heart to tell her the feeling wasn't mutual. It had nothing to do with her, but the fear that this was fleeting. Like, at any moment, she'd be ripped from my grasp by an unknown, unseen threat and disappear.

"I'm glad," I said instead.

Her fingernails dragged lower, past my navel and through the hair leading to the waistband of my boxer briefs. "You know what I think?"

"Hmm?"

Her hand disappeared beneath the elastic to glide over my erection, as hard as steel. "You should skip work today."

I inhaled sharply through my nose as she squeezed me in an iron grip. "Fuck," I groaned. "And what would I do instead?"

She pulled her hand away, and I whined pitifully with a needy ache.

Then, she rolled over, laying her body over mine beneath the blanket, and whispered against my lips, "Me."

Threads of sunlight poked through the slats in my bedroom window blinds, and they lay over her cotton-candy pink hair, the strands sparkling in the early morning light. She kissed me, and I kept my eye open half-mast to watch the flush of her cheeks bloom like the petals of Mom's roses on the bush she’d taken from my late grandfather's house. Kate's fingers stroked over my beard and lifted to touch the scar that stretched from my cheek to my forehead, and I didn't flinch away or wish for her to stop. Instead, I melted into gratitude that this woman could enter my life with the strength to not shy away from the monster I'd become on the outside and see through to the man beneath this tarnished skin.

She opened her eyes, saw that I was watching, and pulled away. A sweet smile graced her lips as she tipped her head and asked, "What?"

"I just still can't believe you're really here," I whispered, choked by a love I was so grateful to call mine.

"I'm here, baby," she whispered back.

"I love you."

Her eyes swam in pools of crystal tears. "I love you too."

My hand left her shoulder to glide over her bare back to her ass. My palm molded to her silken skin, squeezing, kneading.

"So, back to what you were saying about doing you all day—"

Knock! Knock!

"Rev?"

Dad's voice came from the other side of my bedroom door, and Kate lifted her head to look in the direction of the sound.

A sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eye and said, "Yeah, Dad?"

"Hey, bud, it's already six. You're gonna be late for work."

I opened my eye and met Kate's adoring gaze. I mouthed a, Sorry , before calling back, "Yeah, I, uh … I think I'm gonna call in—"

"What? You okay?" He tried the doorknob, finding it locked.

"I'm fine," I hurried to say. "I just had a late night and, um …"

Dad was quiet for a moment, and I thought he might've gotten the hint. I held my breath, waiting to hear his telltale footsteps against the hallway carpet, but they never came.

I laid a hand over my forehead as Kate buried her face against my neck, stifling giggles, while I wished I’d made enough money to afford my own place on expensive-as-fuck Long Island.

Then, there were whispers. Mom's voice had entered the chat, and she was speaking to Dad.

I couldn't make out what was said, only that Dad finally uttered a drawn-out, knowing, "Ohh …"

"Oh, good God," I grumbled beneath my breath, dropping my hand to the bed.

"All right, Rev, uh … I'll just be downstairs, okay? Gonna make some breakfast if, uh … you want any. I'll make extra ."

"Great, Dad," I called. "Thanks."

Then, two pairs of footsteps shuffled away toward the stairs. Kate lifted her head to look at me, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth as she brushed the hair off my forehead.

"So, um, that was my dad," I said sheepishly, tucking my smile into the corner of my mouth.

She nodded, her jovial eyes glinting. "He seems nice."

"He is," I agreed.

She leaned in, touched her mouth to mine, then said, "I'd like to meet him. Your mom too. Plus, I hear there's breakfast, and I'm starving ."

I didn't want to grin, didn't want my parents to weasel their way into this bubble of bliss, but I relented easily with a sigh and the comfort that she wanted to meet them. She wanted to be a part of my life— all of it—and I couldn't find it in me to fight against it.

So, I rolled out of bed, pulled the eyepatch on, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants for me and some boxers for her to accompany the T-shirt she’d borrowed before bed. We got dressed, passing looks of appreciation, anticipation, and so, so much contentment that I couldn't believe I'd begun the day terrified.

When we got downstairs, I entered the kitchen first to find Mom at the table with her book and Dad at the stove, where he scrambled eggs and fried strips of bacon and sausage patties. Mom noticed me first, her eyes peering over the frames of her silver-rimmed glasses perched at the tip of her nose.

She laid the paperback on the table, pulled the glasses off, and smiled before saying, "Good morning, honey. What's this I hear about you wanting to skip work?"

I squeezed the back of my neck and cleared my throat, suddenly forgetting that I was a thirty-one-year-old man and not a thirteen-year-old boy. This was more awkward than I had anticipated, and what if I made Mom and Dad awkward by introducing them to Kate now, when I knew they knew she'd just been in my bed down the hall from theirs?

"Yeah, I had a late night, and I, uh …" Just tell them, you fuckin' moron. The quicker you get it over with, the better . "I actually have … company."

Mom feigned cluelessness and lifted her head higher. "Oh? You hear that, Dave? Rev has company ."

"What's that?" Dad turned from the stove, wearing the Kiss the Chef apron he'd had since before I could even remember. "What sort of company?"

I blew out a breath and fought against an eye roll at this performance that would never win an Academy Award. I reached for Kate, hiding from plain sight behind the adjacent wall, and pulled her beneath the cover of my arm. I glanced at my parents and the smiles they were trying to keep covered beneath a guise of indifference, and I was filled with an appreciation that ran so deep that it touched the marrow of my bones.

"This is Kate," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Kate, this is my mom and dad."

Mom was already up from the table, reaching out for Kate's hands, and said, "Kate, it's so nice to finally meet you. Please, call me Susan."

Dad reached over with one hand extended, a spatula in the other. "Dave."

Kate glanced over her shoulder at me as Mom insisted she sit beside her at the small four-person table.

Her eyes said, Look at this; you were worried for nothing , and she was right.

Because as I sat down beside my dream girl and Dad brought over plates of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast, all I could think was, This moment—right here, right now—is perfect .

And it was only made more so when Dad sat next to me and reached over to grip my shoulder as he leaned over and muttered into my ear, "She's a good one, bud."

I laughed. "You just met her, Dad."

"Yeah, but … you chose her," he said before patting my shoulder and leaning back into his chair. "That's enough for me."

***

We ate with my parents, and they did what any parents would do and shared embarrassing stories from my childhood. I took it all in stride, grateful they had stories to tell, grateful I had them at all, and Kate laughed and aww ed at the appropriate times. She fit into this picture with her pink hair and sunshiny smile, like she'd always been meant to be there, and that was more than I could say about any girlfriend my parents had met before. Granted, there wasn’t a long list of them, but I guessed there was a reason they said, When you know, you know .

And I knew.

Mom and Dad did too.

I could read them well enough to see their little shared glances, the messages they sent across the table. They had fallen for Kate about as quickly as I had, after I'd already fallen for Indigo Sky, and I knew it would break their hearts as much as mine if she were to ever leave.

"Well, kids, I have to get going. Some of us have work to do today," Mom teased as she stood from the table, leveling me with a taunting glare.

"I should get ready too," Dad said with a morose sigh. "I can't wait to retire."

"What do you do?" Kate asked Dad while swiping the last strip of bacon before addressing Mom. "I know you and Rev work together, right?"

"Rev works for me," Mom corrected gently with a smile. "I own the gym, though you'd never know it, looking at me." She let out a small laugh at her own expense. "I had one baby, and my entire body just let itself go."

"You're fine, sweetpea," Dad assured her, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

He looked at Kate and said, "I've been a foreman in construction for thirty-five years, and I am tired of it."

"Oh, wow," she replied, genuinely impressed.

"Dad's looking to retire in a couple of years," I added.

"I have to," he said with a drawn-out sigh. "Gotta start living before this job kills me."

In unison, Mom and Kate uttered sounds of understanding and acknowledgment while I tried not to zero in on that word— kill .

Kill, kill, kill …

It was impossible, and I thought about every nightmare I couldn’t find it in me to sleep through.

***

My parents got ready for work while Kate and I retreated to my room. It was still early morning, the day had only just begun, but after being awake for over an hour, I wasn't sure I could get back to sleep even if I wanted to, especially not in the fragile state I’d found my mind in. But with Mom and Dad bustling around, getting their things together before heading their separate ways, I wasn't sure I wanted to throw Kate onto my bed and have my way with her either. Not yet.

So, we talked instead.

"I love them," she commented softly once she was seated on my bed.

"They love you too," I said, taking the spot beside her.

"You're really lucky to have them."

I dropped my gaze to my hands and nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"You are their world." A forlorn sigh passed through her lips, and I realized she was upset. "They look at you the way my dad used to look at me. I used to be his world too."

"I'm sure you still are," I said, not knowing what else to say as I reached out to take her hand and threaded my fingers between hers.

"No," she replied with a brash shake of her head. "He doesn't even know who I am most of the time. He just … tells me stories about his daughter, like I'm not sitting right in front of him."

I furrowed my brow, painfully aware of the creaking, splintering sound of my heart breaking for the pain she held in hers. "But … are they good stories?"

A warbled laugh blended into a bubbled sob as she nodded. "Always. And he never once mentions that she's a stripper without any hope for a future."

“See?” I said. “You’re still his world.”

She hastily wiped the hem of her borrowed T-shirt beneath her eyes, sniffling gently. Guilt weighed heavily against my chest when I imagined the regret she might be feeling. If she felt she should’ve been at home with her father instead of being here with me.

But then she rested her head against my bare shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her and thought, And you’re mine too .

I thought about saying it aloud. I thought she deserved to hear it, that my feelings had grown beyond simple I love you s. But Dad wasn’t done interrupting my plans for the day.

“Revan!”

I turned toward the door at the urgency in his voice, coming from downstairs.

“Revan! Hurry!”

I looked at Kate for a moment to exchange a worried expression. Then, together, we left my room and ran down the stairs. Dad was in the living room, and Mom stood at the open front door, a hand over her mouth. The scene was concerning.

My heart took off at a gallop as I turned back to my father, dread churning sick in my gut.

“What’s going on?”

He gestured to the door. “Look outside.”

Kate stood next to my father at the foot of the stairs as I did what he’d asked. I guessed maybe she was scared of what might be awaiting us out there. Maybe she thought the worst, the way I did, considering the reactions of both my parents. I couldn’t say what was going through her mind, but I’d seen enough horror movies to fill my brain with a thousand horrible possibilities.

But in none of them had I imagined the windows of my car to be shattered, the paint job to be scratched to oblivion, or the driveway to be spray-painted with letters, reading WHORE FUCKER and FREAK and WATCH YOUR BACK .

“Who would do this?” Mom asked beside me, her voice tight and panicked.

“I don’t fucking know,” I replied, wishing I had more of an answer. Wishing I could put a name to the person who had been watching and following and invading my nightmares, whistling a merry tune all the way. “If I did,” I said aloud, “I’d fucking kill them myself.”

Kill, kill, kill …

***

Mom called the cops, and because there didn’t seem to be an imminent threat, it took them a solid forty-five minutes to send a squad car over.

Both of my parents called out of work, and I made a feeble joke about all of us playing hooky. Nobody laughed.

The cops took pictures of the damage, dusted for fingerprints—only to find nothing—and met us inside to ask some questions, not much different from the ones they’d asked Kate not long ago.

“Do you have any enemies, sir?”

“Do you have any idea who would’ve done this?”

I answered them without really answering them at all because the truth was, I didn’t have any to give. I mentioned Tyson from what felt like a lifetime ago, and then I remembered what Nate had said last night and mentioned that Kate had once had a stalker who’d done time.

“He lives in Florida,” Kate said, dismissing the idea immediately.

“You’re sure about that, ma’am?” one officer asked, peering up from his notepad.

She nodded, shame tinting her cheeks bright pink. “I, um … I check his social media pretty regularly. He lives with his mom at her senior community, playing shuffleboard and bingo. He works at the local Walmart.”

The cop nodded in a noncommittal way. “Can I just get his name, please? Just in case?”

My ears perked up as she said, “Yeah, it’s, um, it’s Jason Peters.”

Jason Peters .

My blood boiled as if I’d heard it a million times before, and my hatred toward a man I didn’t know grew to the height of Vesuvius. I wanted to know everything about him. What he looked like, what he was doing at this second, what he had done to her, in detail, so that I’d have every justification in the world to end his life. And I knew it was insane—of course I did—but I didn’t care. Not when there was someone out there, maybe not far from here, who was trying their damnedest to disturb the happiness we’d found, and that person could very well be named Jason Peters.

“Sir?”

It took me a moment to realize the officer had been speaking to me. I shook my head to chase away the red-hot rage muffling my eardrums and focused my vision on him.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

The officer’s face took on an expression of impatience as he stifled a sigh. “Do you know if anything was stolen from the vehicle?”

“No,” I said, getting the impression that this exchange wasn’t going anywhere, much like the incident with Kate’s car weeks earlier. “Not that I know of.”

He offered a single nod as he closed the notepad and put it back in his pocket. “Well, we’ll just get this report filed and be on our way.”

Mom emitted a flabbergasted sigh. “Wha-what? That’s … that’s it ? What are we supposed to do about this?”

I had to give the cop credit—he at least looked apologetic as he shrugged helplessly. “There’s really not much you can do right now. I do recommend getting some security cameras though, in case this person—or people—comes back. And be careful. It could very well be nothing, or—"

“It could be something,” I finished, crossing my arms and shaking my head.

“My son and his girlfriend were threatened ,” Dad said, raising his voice. “And we’re supposed to, what? Just wait around for this to escalate?”

“I’m really sorry, folks,” the cop said. “But without anything to go on, there’s really nothing we can do. Stay safe though, and if anything else happens, give us a call.”

It felt like déjà vu, listening to them speak and watching them walk away without having done much but take a few pictures and ask a few questions. Kate looked up at me, a helpless plea in her eyes. I wrapped my arm around her and gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting go and walking after the two officers.

“Guys,” I called after them as they headed down the porch steps.

One of them turned to give me his attention as the other went to the squad car to write up the report.

“Look, I know you’re just doing your job,” I began, crossing my arms over my chest and shrugging, “but this is the second time something like this has happened in just a few weeks. The first time was at the club where we work, and that was bad enough, but this is my fucking house . Someone was here while we were sleeping .”

Saying it out loud, putting it into the universe, sent a chill down my spine. Knowing this person had been right here, right beneath my bedroom window, and vandalized my car and driveway …

How was anyone supposed to feel comfortable here again?

“I can only imagine how violated you feel,” the cop empathized, his eyes soft and understanding. “All of you. Really, I get it, and I wish there were more we could do. All I’ll tell you is, listen to the warning. Watch your back. Get those cameras. And if anyone comes onto your property again and you happen to catch them in the act, don’t wait for us to get here. Do what you have to do to protect yourself and your family.”

His eyes conveyed a message, and I heard it loud and clear.

Kill, kill, kill …

“Remember that, okay? And, please … watch your back.”

I nodded, unseeing through a veil of red. “I will.”

Kill, kill, kill …

***

I have to stop here for a second and say that not a minute has gone by since that morning when I haven’t wished that was exactly what had happened. That the son of a bitch—whoever it was—had just shown their face on my property, thrown all caution to the wind, and let me handle it on my turf. Because, man, I would’ve. I was filled with so much rage, hot like molten lava, coursing its way through my veins that I could’ve murdered a goddamn moose with my bare hands had I been given the chance.

And I think … I think that’s what pisses me off the most now, thinking about it.

That I was never given that chance.

The fight had been unfair since day one.