Brain Storm by Cat Gilbert (ebook reader computer .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Cat Gilbert
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I may have been praying, but my eyes were glued to the bushes where they had disappeared, straining to see in the dark. My knuckles were white on the wheel, and I could feel sweat break out on my skin as the five-minute mark neared, and there was still no sign of them. Suddenly the bushes parted near the side window, startling me, and Jonas was there, motioning for me to scoot over as he opened the driver’s door.
“Everything’s clear,” he assured us as he drove slowly forward through the bushes and onto a barely visible path. “Mac’s up ahead moving a barrier. We’ll be at the cabin in a couple of minutes.”
We cleared the area that Mac had opened up and waited while he swept away the tire tracks and moved brush back over the opening. He hopped in the back, and we drove the short distance to the cabin.
The group of us, bedraggled, dirty and all in all, one sorry looking lot, made our way inside eager for what little security it offered. So far, Mama D hadn’t said much, and I was more than a little worried about her. She didn’t even say anything about the mess of paper and books on the floor. Trinity brought her in and sat her on the sofa by the fire. Jonas went over and added some fresh wood and kindling, stirring the embers until it caught. I watched the flames as they grew, recalling the flames in Mama D’s kitchen as they ate the lighter fluid and flowed across the floor and felt a shudder run through me.
Everything looked like it was happening in slow motion. I was sure it was the effects of shock, but couldn’t rouse enough energy to concern myself about it. Mac disappeared into one of the other rooms, which I assumed was a bedroom and returned with an armload of towels.
“There’s only one bathroom, sorry to say. There’re clothes for Taylor in the bedroom. Trinity, I am sure you can find something there for you and your grandmother.”
Clothes for me in the bedroom? Turns out I had some adrenaline still left in my system after all. I strode in through the bedroom door, jerking open the first drawer I came to. It was full of socks, bras, and underwear. Great. A perfect stranger buying me underwear. I had enough trouble buying it for myself. Oh, wait. He wasn’t a perfect stranger. He’d known me for seven years. How could I forget? No wonder he got my bra size right. Tamping down my irritation, I opened another drawer to find it packed with jeans, another full of sweaters. Barely glancing at the crowd gathered by the door, I walked over to what I assumed to be the closet door and opened it to find an assortment of footwear, the racks hung with clean shirts and jackets. All in my size. All my favorite brands. Squatting down in the closet, I lifted a pair of shoes, the exact make of a pair I already owned. I didn’t know what to think. Frankly, it felt a little creepy. Okay, not a little creepy. A lot creepy.
I threw the shoes back down and shut the door on the abundance of clothes hanging inside. Finally taking a moment to look around the room, I took in the bed, the soft comforter matching the curtains that hid the blacked out window. The reading light on the bedside table, and the book sitting next to it by my favorite author. The colors, the style, even the feel of the room were what I would have chosen for my own bedroom. Shoot, it was my bedroom. These were my clothes, my shoes, my things. Mac had bought them for me. He had known or at least suspected that at some point I would have to run, and he had been prepared for it.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was a pervert, but I just didn’t get that feeling from him. As much as I hated to admit it, I was beginning to think he was exactly what he said he was. My Watcher. The thought took the wind right out of my sails. I was so tired I didn’t know if it even mattered anymore.
“Where’s the pajamas?” I asked, searching out his eyes where he stood behind Trinity and Mama D, his arms still full of towels.
Relief rippled across his face. “Top drawer on the end.” He pointed with his chin to one of the few drawers I hadn’t opened. “Robe is hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Sorry, there’s only one. I wasn’t expecting this many.”
“That’s okay.” Trinity was already heading to the closet, Mama D following her into the room. “I don’t need a robe.”
“I wouldn’t be too hasty,” Mama D said as she opened the drawer Mac had indicated. “You haven’t seen what kind of pajamas he bought yet.”
We all froze, staring at her. It was the first thing she’d said since we’d left her house. She started chuckling as she pulled out a very conservative top with matching bottoms.
“Well, young man. You’re either very wise or very cautious,” she stated as she went through the rest of the drawer.
“I prefer to think I’m a little of both.” He gave her a smile as he came into the room and deposited the towels onto the bed. “Taylor, we’ll leave you and the ladies to get cleaned up. This is your room, and there’s another bedroom next door down, that Trinity and Mama D can share. Jonas and I will be in the main room if you need anything.”
He closed the door softly behind him, leaving me alone, with Trinity and Mama D, who was holding one of the pajama tops up to her small frame.
“I believe this one will fit me just fine,” she said, and grabbing up a towel from the bed, headed for the bathroom.
“We need to talk,” Trinity announced as soon as Mama D had closed the door behind her.
“I know. Trinity, I am so sorry about this. I can’t believe you and Mama D are involved in this mess.”
“As opposed to what? Not being involved?” Trinity flopped down on the bed, actually angry at me. “What would have been better, Taylor? Us not knowing what was going on? You just disappearing and us not knowing what had happened or where you were?”
“No Trinity. It wouldn’t have been better. It wasn’t even an option. I care about you and Mama D more than anyone on this earth, and they know that. You wouldn’t have been safe whether you knew what was going on or not. I’m just sorry. Sorry for putting you in danger. Sorry about disrupting your lives. Sorry, that’s there’s no other way.”
“There’s no going back, is there Taylor? Gram and me. There’s no going back.”
“No. There’s no going back. For any of us.”
A HALF HOUR later Trinity tapped on the door letting me know the bathroom was free. I spied my favorite soap, lotions, and shampoo lined up on the counter and decided to chance there being enough hot water for a quick shower. I didn’t bother to check for a hair dryer. As efficient as Mac appeared to be, I was sure it was there in one of the drawers, probably right next to my favorite brand of flat iron. I wasn’t disappointed.
I came out of the bathroom to the smell of bacon and biscuits. It was southern comfort food, in its purest form and as the smell hit me, I realized I was famished. Turning the corner, I found Mama D heaping a platter with scrambled eggs while Trinity was pulling strips of bacon from the hot skillet.
“Taylor, get the biscuits,” Mama D directed, and I snatched up a mitt as they made space between them for me to open the oven door. We’d worked like this together in the kitchen more times than I could count. Within minutes the food was on the table, butter dripping from the hot steaming biscuits.
Jonas and Mac came in through the back door, both toweling off, having apparently gone outside to wash up. I felt a little guilty about my hot shower, but not all that much. They didn’t appear any the worse for wear and if the look on their faces was any indication, they were as hungry as I was.
“Oh man, does that smell good.” Jonas was already at the table, pulling up his chair, Mac right on his heels.
Silence descended as plates were piled high and we dug into the feast before us. Eggs and bacon had never tasted so good, and the biscuits were to die for. I limited myself to one biscuit but kept the last little bite of it to end on. Somewhat revived, I shoved my plate away and settled back into my chair, holding out my cup as Mac refilled my coffee. Setting the pot on the table, he settled onto the small bench he had used as a makeshift chair.
“Before everyone heads off to bed, I need to get some information.” He pulled a pen and pad of paper out of nowhere and sat them on the table. I admit, I had to wonder what kind of information he was so intent on getting at 2 a.m. “If you could all tell me the name of your bank and any account information you can remember, that would help a lot.”
Our bank information? I instinctively looked around for my purse before remembering I didn’t have one anymore. It had probably burned up in the fire, and if it hadn’t, there was no way I could go back and get it. My whole identity was in that purse. My driver’s license, my credit cards, my bank information, my keys, even my cell phone.
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