Saving Emmy by Rayne Lewis

Chapter 17

After a battery of tests, T and Ember were driving to the hardware store to visit Pops. T was wearing a pair of blackout sunglasses to shield the light from his sensitive eye. The sensitivity had lessened, so the brightness indoors wasn't wreaking havoc on him, but outdoors he needed some type of protection.

He was just grateful his vision was back. It was still blurry, but the doctor assured him it would clear up with time. He had a follow-up appointment at the end of the week to check his progress and make sure no infection set in. He had antibiotic drops to put in throughout the day, just to err on the side of caution. The last thing he wanted was a setback. He wasn’t guaranteed he’d have the same 20/20 vision he had before the attack and that worried him. He couldn’t get back on his gun without perfect vision, but with the possibility of LASIK surgery, at least he’d still be on the team, in the field, fighting beside his brothers. That thought alone brought him peace.

Time. Time would tell what the future held.

T looked over from the passenger’s seat as Ember sat behind the wheel, sunglasses on and her fiery red hair whipping in the wind coming through the open window. It was a beautiful day, and he was happy. They both cried when he mentioned her necklace. It was a miracle he was able to see with such clarity. The doctor was astonished. Most patients weren’t able to see that well right after the bandages came off. That gave him hope his vision would be fully restored.

* * *

Ember was hopeful as well. The doctor gave him strict instructions to rest his eye when it felt fatigued and not to strain it. But, this was T-BAR. The word rest wasn’t in his vocabulary. Ember knew the man couldn’t begin to comprehend the meaning. He had patience, but his activity mode was always on high. Ember knew King would see to it that he followed doctor’s orders. And, King, being King, was all the incentive a person needed and ten times scarier than any doctor’s warnings. If he wanted to get back on the gun, she figured he would do just about anything.

They pulled into the lot behind the hardware store and she put the truck into PARK. It was a dirt lot where the employees parked. Customer parking was in the front along Main Street and also in the paved parking space around the corner of the building. Slate was on Pops to get better lighting in the back lot. A lone flood light illuminated it in the evening and night time, but another light would be a lot safer. Pops had it on his to-do list but it hadn’t been installed yet. When the store closed, only he and the one night employee used the back lot, and they walked out together. They parked close to the building which had four, small lights attached along the back wall. It was well lit but needed improvement.

“There's my girl!” Ember’s mom, Susan, greeted her and T as she walked towards them from the office into the back storage room.

“Hi, Mom.” Ember pushed her sunglasses up top her hair, gave her mom a hug, and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

T removed his glasses as well.

“And, don’t you look handsome as ever, Mr. Kingston.” Susan raised up on her tiptoes and gave T-BAR a hug, then placing a hand on his chest, she brushed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

He raised her hand and placed a delicate kiss on her knuckles, “You look beautiful, as always, Mrs. Hayes,” T’s voice was sexy and lyrical with his slight British accent.

Susan chuckled, “He’s not here.”

“Damn!” T dropped her hand and gave a quick shake of his head, holding back the smile all the ladies loved.

The group of three broke into laughter, creating a ruckus.

Innocently, Susan flirted with the Hellforce gang. It was a rolling joke that she’d be a cougar if she wasn’t married to Mitch. The guys laid it on thick whenever Mitch was around, within hearing distance or in direct line of sight. Each would see who could get him to growl the loudest while they flowered her with compliments that went a miniscule over compliments but never over the line. They’d never disrespect Pops with inappropriate behavior, but they'd greet Susan with a kiss on the cheek that earned them a side eye and a grumble from Pops. Susan loved it because when Pops had enough, he’d ravish her with a deep, passionate, very inappropriate-for-public-viewing kiss that made Ember gag a little, telling the guys ‘hands off.’ Sometimes, he’d go as far as dipping her back to the floor, as the guys laughed, and Ember would turn away because no child, no matter how old, wanted to see their parents making out.

But, Ember adored her parents' relationship. They were always affectionate with each other. When Ember and Rhys were teenagers her parents would see how far they could push it before one of the girls would yell out, make gagging noises or literally try to pry them apart. Ember wanted a marriage like her parents. She couldn’t wait to have a guy love her with all his heart and soul. A guy who was affectionate as well as a protector. She wanted to be a partner, just like her mother, who supported her husband as well as her children.

She knew it wasn’t popular in today’s society, but she wanted the traditional roles of husband and wife. She loved the fact that, growing up, her mom was home with her and Rhys, a homemaker with supper on the table by five. She ran the house, and worked the hardware office from home, and was always there when they needed her. Her mom was a strong, confident woman. Housewife and business partner. And, her dad pitched in as well. Her father defied gender roles before it was PC. If the dishes needed to be done and her mom was helping them with homework, her dad did the dishes. If Dad was home when it was laundry day and her mom hung clothes on the line, Dad would be hanging them alongside her. And, it worked both ways. If either she or Rhys got sick, sometimes her dad would stay home and her mom would run the store.

Ember wanted what they had. She knew the guy was out there, somewhere, she just wasn’t sure how to find him, but she knew, deep down, she would.

“Where’s Dad?” Ember asked.

“Oh...he’s doing some maintenance.”

Ember loved working with her dad. “I’ll see if he needs a hand, where is he?” she asked before walking out of the storage room.

“Em, I’m sure he’s got it.” Her mom seemed hesitant, something Susan Hayes was not. Something was off. T straightened his posture slightly. “I’m sure he’ll be in, in a bit. It’s hot out. He won’t be long.” Susan tried to be nonchalant, but it was clear as hell she was hiding something.

“I’ll take him a bottle of water.” Ember headed onto the store floor before her mom could stop her, with T on her heels.

She made her way down the main aisle, past the cluttered end caps filled with things from bottle openers and wood putty, to jointer biscuits and ballcocks and around the bins where nails and screws could still be bought by the pound. Rounding the corner, she almost collided with a customer.

“Ember, how are you? Been a while since I’ve seen you. You sure have grown into the prettiest spittin’ image of your maw’ma.” Mr. Potter stood slightly hunched looking at the joint compound. He was the sweetest old man and gave her a smile. He used to bring her and Rhys salt water taffy when they were little while they roamed around the store with their dad. Always a pink one for Rhys and a red, white and blue swirled piece for her. Everyone in town called him Old Man Potter. He was about a hundred-and-thirty-seven years old, if not a day younger. He was old when Ember was little and even older now.

“I need a quick-set compound,” he began, showing her the bucket in his hand. “I'm repairing a section of drywall where the joints meet, and the gall darn stuff keeps cracking.” He looked down at the mix in hand.

Ember really didn’t want to stop and help. She wanted to see what her mom was hiding by keeping her from helping her dad, but Mr. Potter was...well, Mr. Potter. He was like an old-timey grandfather, and she’d known him her whole life, so she stopped to help him.

“Don’t need a huge pail of it, just—”

“Mr. Potter,” Ember politely interrupted him, “what you have here is putty for small patches...nail holes and wall dents. What you need is a setting compound.”

He looked at the mix in his hand again, “Hmmm.”

“Are you using a powder setting compound, one you add water to?” Ember’s eyes caught T’s with both his eyebrows raised, a smirk on his face and he mouthed the words, “Good luck,” and headed out the front doors.

Ass. Ember thought internally, knowing he was rolling with laughter in his head.

As T left, Mr. Potter began to tell her about his prizewinning magnolia tree and azalea bushes.

Dang it!

* * *

T left Ember with the frail, old man and headed past the registers and out the front double doors. Taking the single step down to the sidewalk, he glanced to each side spotting Pops brushing the front wall, and he headed his way. As he approached, he saw what Pops was doing; he was trying to remove spray paint from the store front. Instantly, anger rose in T’s bloodstream. Someone tagged the hardware store! What type of punk-ass-bitch did this to the Hayes store? Everyone loved the Hayes family. If you needed something fixed, Hayes was the place to go. There was no big box store in their town. Didn’t need one. Hayes Hardware had it all. The joke around town, “if Hayes’ didn’t carry it, they didn’t make it.” It was a real hardware, hardware store.

“What mothafuc—” T-BAR stopped mid-sentence, reading the words painted on the brick face. One of Three. T gave a knowing look to Pops, understanding who was behind this. He knew exactly what this meant. If Ember saw this, she was going to freak out. She’d been doing well since the shooting incident but was shaken up again when the mysterious, cryptic note was left by Omar Bazwar on the counter at the range. Fury and rage roiled in his gut. He was in charge of Ember’s safety, and he’d be damned if anything happened to her on his watch. And, Slate would be irate if something happened to his girl while he was away.

“You have security cameras?” T barked out the question a few decibels louder than appropriate. “You need to get Matthews over here right now!”

Pops dropped the brush in the bucket of solution and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm. “Matthews has already been by. We looked through the footage from last night. It’s Bazwar. I sent Matthews the digital footage, and he’s going to have it analyzed and processed.” Pops stood back and stared at the graffiti tag, untouched, thinking of what else he could use to remove the paint without marring or discoloring the brick. T stood next to him taking in the scene.

“This is some unusual paint,” Pops huffed, wiping his brow again from the Texas midday heat, then removed the rubber gloves from his hands. “Definitely isn’t regular aerosol spray paint. I’ve tried multiple removers, solvents and thinners. Nothing’s taking it off. It’s like they wanted to brand the store instead of tagging it.”

“Pressure washer?”

“First thing I tried after Matthews left. Didn't remove a damn thing. Probably going to have to paint over it.”

T walked up and touched the paint, wiping his finger across the brick. “You gonna tell Ember? She needs to know. Matthews is probably going to contact her. Think it’d be better to hear it from one of us before she’s blindsided by a call from him.”

“I want to remove it before telling her. Seeing it will send her over the edge. She needs to be protected, and I’ll go to any length to do that for her.” Pops rubbed the back of his neck with a handkerchief and looked down as he folded it to put in his back pocket. “Where is Ember?”

“I’m right here.”

Both heads swiveled towards the sound of her voice as she walked over to them. When she got closer she saw the bucket at her dad’s feet. Realization dawned, and she turned to the three-foot high letters scrawled across the face of her family's store. Her expression transformed from confusion, to shock, to anger. She set her jaw and her breathing deepened taking in the tag. One of Three. The warning loud and clear, not so cryptic this time.

T expected her to become enraged or a trembling mess, but she stood stoic and controlled, never taking her eyes off the brick face.

“Bazwar.” It wasn’t a question.

Pops answered her anyway, “We think so.” He corrected himself, “Actually, we’re pretty sure.”

“When did it happen?”

“Last night. We—”

“You didn’t call me?” She looked to her dad. Her words had a bite to them.

He answered with the truth. “No, but I only discovered it this morning.”

She shook her head in disgust and looked up at the front overhang and then at the end of each roofline. “Cameras working?”

T knew she was compartmentalizing the situation. Organizing, dissecting, categorizing and filing away each piece of information and clue. She was in soldier mode. Times like this made T question why they were all on Ember Protection Detail. She was a damn great soldier. Had proven herself over and over again, and he knew she was tough as nails. Then, he reread the graffiti tag and knew, more than ever, she needed someone at her back.

Pops answered her question. “Yes. Sent a copy of the recording to Matthews after he left here this morning.”

Ember closed her eyes. “Matthews was here? Why wasn’t I?” Her tone was ice. Cold, sharp, precise and crisp. Short and clipped. “So, let me get this straight,” she paused, getting her emotions and thoughts in order. “You found this, this morning,” she pointed to the wall, “you called Matthews, but you didn’t call me?” Her words were pointed. “When were you going to call me?” She didn’t give her dad time to answer the rhetorical question. “After you removed it? Scrubbed it off the wall?” She let out a breathy laugh. “Or, maybe you were going to let me find out from one of the hundreds of gossips in this town? Or, I don’t know, one of the hundreds of customers that shop here or drive by?”

Mitch didn’t say anything.

The door to the front of the store opened and Susan joined the huddle on the sidewalk.

“Honey,” her mom reached out an arm to put around her shoulder, but Ember pulled to the side standing her ground. She didn’t want to be coddled.

Pops took a step forward, “Baby girl, I—”

“Don’t baby girl, me, Dad…” The words were just above a whisper and her sentence fell off.

Mitch opened his mouth but said nothing.

“I'm sick of everyone walking on eggshells around me. Everybody thinks they know what is best for me without even asking me what’s best for me. Shouldn’t I have a say in my own decisions?” She looked at her dad with sympathy, knowing he and everyone else had her best interest at heart. “I know I freaked when this whole thing went down, I still don't understand why, it wasn't like me at all. I kinda lost it. But then, everybody started making choices for me.” She was frustrated, finding it difficult to express what she wanted to say. “I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need coddling or a watch team.” She looked at T-BAR. “Look, I'm glad everyone is concerned. And yes, I do feel safer having a second set of eyes with me, ’cuz we don’t know what these crazies,” she pointed to the wall, “are going to do, or where or when they’ll show up. But shouldn’t that be my decision? Shouldn’t someone ask me what I want to do?” Disgust enveloped her and she shook her head coming to grips with the moment.

Mitch rolled his lips between his teeth and planted his hands, awkwardly, in his pocket. He was never awkward. He was always the rock when it came to decisions, issues or problems. When it came to adversity, he was always the go-to man, so to see him almost broken, filled her with unease.

“Baby, gir—” he stopped himself, “Ember, I was going to call you—”

“But, you didn’t.” She whispered the words almost in defeat.

T felt bad for her, seeing things through her perspective. It was true that everyone around her was making decisions for her, and no one had stopped to get her input, even though she probably would’ve agreed to everything, even having someone with her all the time, but no one had made her part of that decision. It was only natural to have her push back.

“T.” Ember walked to him, waiting for him to look at her. “Please, don’t think for one second that I’m ungrateful. I love that you've been with me this week.” Her voice was gentle and he knew she wasn't giving platitudes; she was sincere. “I need you with me. Not that I can’t be alone, but I don’t want to be alone.” She shifted her weight, measuring her next words. “But, sometimes, I think you and the guys forget that I’m not helpless.”

He had to agree with her. Even though the guys had her best interest at heart, they wouldn’t treat a fellow teammate this way. Her next words solidified his thoughts.

“You wouldn’t be trailing King or Trip. Cy, Slate or Arctic wouldn’t allow you to follow on their heels. I’m not asking you to leave or to not be with me. I want someone to be with me, to be my extra eyes.”

T-BAR chuckled and pointed to his right eye beneath his sunglasses and raised his brow.

She smiled at his joke and continued, looking over at her father, “You and Mom raised me to be independent. Stand up for myself and others. Never to cower.” Her parents nodded in agreement. “Am I pissed this Bazwar guy is fucking with me for God only knows why? Yes. Am I going to live in fear and in the shadows and let him rule my life? Fuck no! Am I going to be reckless and take unnecessary risks? Absolutely not. I’m going to decide the way I live. But, I’m also going to make my own decisions and decide what’s best for me.”

Both T and her parents agreed and knew she was right. Any future choices and decisions would be hers.

Her dad came to her and wrapped her in his arms. “I love you baby, gir—” he pursed his lips into a flat line.

Ember smiled up at him, giving him permission to don her with the endearment.

He continued, “I love you, baby girl. Just trying to do what is best for you, and I’m sorry if we overstepped. Sometimes I forget you're a grown woman and not the scrappy little girl you once were.”

“I’m still scrappy...just not so little.” He hugged her tighter and she spoke to his chest, “Love you, Daddy.” He kissed the top of her head and stepped back so her mom could dote on her as well.

T’s phone rang and he stepped away to answer it. Ember pulled her phone from her back pocket and began snapping pictures of the tag from different angles. Susan gave Mitch’s arm a light squeeze, and she headed back inside the store.

“Ranger Matthews is probably going to get a hold of you. Let you know about this.” Mitch pointed to the wall.

“At least I won’t be blindsided. Glad I saw it before he called.” She gave her dad a reassuring smile to let him know she was okay.

“Guys are back.” T came up beside her while sliding his phone into his pocket. “Gotta head back to HQ.”

“Okay. I got pics and will talk to the guys about this. After that, I’ll see what Mary’s up to, maybe call Maven while you man-up with the boys.”

T smirked, “Man-up? What’s that?”

“You know,” she said with a shrug of a shoulder, “exude testosterone, measure biceps, sqqqueeze things.” She curled her bicep and fisted her knuckles, mimicking the motion.

T stared at her and chuckled on an exhale. “Really? That’s what you think we do when we get together?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sorry to disappoint, love, but men don't become primal and flex oiled muscles while comparing man bulges when they get together.”

Ember’s face curled up into a sinister grin and she said, “Well, girls don’t prance around in skimpy thongs and braless tanks while having pillow fights when we get together.”

T face fell in sadness and he grabbed his chest, “Why would you piss on my beautiful dreams?”

“I’m outta here!” Pops grabbed the bucket and gloves at his feet before he heard more banter. “Don’t need to know any of this info.”

All three laughed and headed into the hardware store leaving the message on the storefront. One of Three.

How soon those words would become reality.