Jeremy (In Safe Hands Book 5) Read online

  Heads are shaking back and forth, and Anthony smiles as I join in.

  “Of course not, but that’s what the masses have been led to believe. We have to show them there’s a better way. A way to live with the Earth, not in spite of it.”

  He walks around, the fire throwing shadows across his face. “Just like all of you, most people don’t realize the damage they’re doing. They’re being brainwashed into believing that you have to have the biggest house, the shiniest car, the newest gadgets to be happy. They are bombarded with it from the time they’re children. Child targeted advertising gets in their impressionable little brains and insists they need that new toy or game right now. As you age, it gets worse. They track your spending to see what you buy so they can target you through ads and spam. They convince you that these are the building blocks you need to live a wonderful life. If you just had that new car, everything would be great.”

  “But what happens? The more you get, the more you want. So you buy and buy, never giving a second thought to where those items are going to end up once they’re discarded. It’s all a trick to get what matters the most to them. Money.”

  “The main responsibility of a corporation is to answer only to shareholders, giving human rights and other issues almost no consideration. They’re just trying to make another billion. It’s true that money is the root of all evil. But consumerism is the result and will be the downfall of our society if we let it.

  “I know it sometimes seems hopeless, but there are things we can do, and that’s why we gather here, to work toward a better world. We’re about action, not talk. Let the others complain while they do nothing. We will not scream uselessly into the abyss. We will save ourselves, and the beautiful earth for the generations to come. We’ll show them how to live a true life.”

  Applause fills the air, and I join in clapping with all the others. The man can talk. I can see how desperate people looking for an answer could fall prey to his bullshit. Haddie was absolutely entranced throughout his speech. I’m watching someone begin the path to being brainwashed and it’s infuriating.

  Anthony nods toward Kelly, and she takes the hint, approaching Haddie and offering to give her a tour of the place. Anthony takes her now empty seat beside me, and introduces himself. After we shake hands, he says, “Kelly tells me you’re very health and environmentally conscious. So, be honest with me. Did you lead her to believe that because it’s true or because she’s a pretty blond with big blue eyes?”

  His question catches me off guard, and I stare into his scrutinizing eyes for a moment before answering him. “I didn’t lie, but, you know, if it’d been some dude handing out flyers, I probably wouldn’t have stopped.”

  Anthony throws back his head and laughs, slapping me on my shoulder. “That’s why she’s our public face. You’re honest. I like you. So, tell me, what do you think of True Life’s message?”

  I rub my chin like I’m considering it. “It’s right on the mark, but I’d like to know more about what would be expected of me if I join.”

  There’s no way I’m moving into one of those grungy trailers. He must catch my glance in that direction because he laughs and gets to his feet. “We don’t expect you to move right in. And those quarters are for the women and children. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you the big house where you’d be spending time if you decide to join us.”

  So, only the women live without power. Good to know.

  “Sure, sounds good.” I follow him back to a golf cart parked nearby. He hops into the driver’s seat and flips on a flood light attached to the front. We travel over the empty field until we hit a paved drive that leads to the house.

  It’s bigger than it looked from a distance, and the difference between how the members live and the leaders live is clear the moment we walk through the door. Warm air, fragrant with the smell of cooking meat, smacks us in the face as we enter.

  An older lady with wide hips and a wider smile greets us. An apron hangs around her neck, so I assume she’s the reason for the wonderful smell. “Harriet, this is Jeremy. He’s interested in joining us.”

  A flash of pity crosses her face, but she quickly covers it with a smile. “Welcome to the big house.”

  Anthony grins and leads me into a game room. “We call this the big house and the trailers are called the little village. Do you play pool?”

  “Not especially well, but I’ll play a game.”

  He spends the next few minutes running through a lot of the information I already know about the cult. The protests they lead, their drive to spread the word, the basic rules they live by. It boils down to this: no electricity, no cars, no purchases of any kind that aren’t approved by the First Men. At least, that’s what’s expected of the full time, live in members. Apparently, there is also an option to start as a Friend of True Life.

  Chuckling, I play along. “How do you keep women from shopping?”

  Anthony grins and knocks a colored ball into the pocket. “Part of the agreement they sign when they move in here is to hand over all access to their financials. If they need something, they come to us. At least for the first few months, until they adapt to living here.”

  “And what does becoming a Friend entail?”

  Anthony takes another shot, which scratches, then hands me the cue ball. “We understand not everyone wants to leave the outside world behind, at least not right away, so if you’re interested, you could instead volunteer here, and pay a monthly donation to support our cause. What do you do for a living?”

  “I don’t have a job. My parents were wealthy and left me a hefty trust fund.” His reaction to my response gives me the first peek behind his mask. The words trust fund bring an instant smile to his face that he doesn’t reign in quite quickly enough. “Before I moved here, I volunteered at various agencies. I’m pretty new to town, so I’ve been looking for something to fill my time, and I have to say, I like what I’m hearing here.”

  He studies me for a moment. “Do you have a criminal record?”

  Shrugging, I step aside after missing my shot. “I’ve been charged for trespassing a couple of times. A few friends joined me to protest an oil pipeline they were running through our town. We chained ourselves together, destroyed some of their equipment. They couldn’t prove we caused the damage though, so the only charge was criminal trespass.”

  “So, you understand we sometimes have to step outside of the law to get things accomplished from time to time.”

  He’s testing me, feeling out my limits. If I want to know what really goes on here, he needs to think I have no qualms about breaking the law. Which, technically is true anyway. While In Safe Hands works more with the police now, we used to take matters into our own hands when a particularly bad child predator beat the system. He isn’t the only one who has killed. The difference is the men who are dead because of ISH deserved what they got. We didn’t shoot innocent people in a damn shopping mall.

  “Yeah, I have no problem with that. Do you have any idea how many laws the corporations break? Environmental laws and too many others to name. You can’t fight fair when the other side isn’t.”

  A wide smile crawls across his face. “Exactly. You know, Jeremy, I hope you decide to join us. I think you’d do very well here. We need more men for leadership positions. At one time, we had two residential villages, but we ran into some hard times and had a little setback. We’d like to expand again. I’m not promising anything, but if you’d like to start as a Friend, you can learn more about us and see if you’re interested.”

  Wow. He actually described the killing of three of their leaders during a planned massacre as a little setback.

  He knocks the eight ball in, and I place my cue on the table. “I’m interested. I can write you a check for the first monthly donation tonight if you’d like.”

  Anthony nods, and leads me toward the front hall. “Actually, we prefer cash, if you can manage it. Helps us keep the government out of our business.”

 
“Understandable. I can bring it back by. Tomorrow okay?”

  “Sure is. And I’ll have Shaun show you around, find you a project to get involved in.”

  “Sounds good.” I shake his offered hand, swallowing back the urge to crush it and beat him until there’s nothing left but a bloody pile.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow then. Shaun will take you back to your car.”

  My blood is boiling by the time I climb into my car and head back home. I think I held up pretty well, considering all I wanted to do was murder them like they did Frannie and twenty-one other innocent people.

  He’s looking to resurrect his other residential village. After the shooting was traced back to their cult, the other village fell apart. The leaders were dead, and the rest were questioned to no end about their possible involvement in the plan. Those who didn’t go to jail, distanced themselves or just plain disappeared. As far as I can tell, the authorities were never aware that this place existed for years before the shooting so they just never made the connection.

  I’m angry, but I’m also torn on what to do. My initial plan was just to take them out, maybe just blow the place up, but I didn’t expect to find children living there. I’m also not sure if the women in those trailers are really there of their own free will or not. I need to know more if I’m going to figure out how to make them pay, and shut the place down without harming any innocent people.

  My stomach growls, so I make a pit stop at a local barbecue place for take out on my way home. It reminds me that Anthony wasn’t the only person to invite me to dinner. As tempting as it would be to take Melissa up on that offer, I just can’t. I need to keep my distance, which is harder than I anticipated.

  Of course, I should be concerned for the baby, and I am, but if I’m being honest, the baby isn’t what keeps invading my thoughts. For some reason, she just won’t get out of my head.

  Chapter Seven

  Melissa

  The weather has turned chilly and raw, perfect weather for holing up in my studio and painting, not so good for cleaning out the gutters, which Jeremy insisted on doing. He’s been out there for a few hours, working his way around my roof, scooping out the gunk and leaves. He chased me away when I tried to hold the ladder for him, and I’ve been trying not to look because every time the ladder shifts, my heart leaps into my throat.

  Instead, I’ve retreated to the kitchen to make a pot of chili and some cornbread. If he insists on fixing up my house for nothing in return, I’m at least going to feed him. Woody lies in the corner with his favorite toy, giving me a look I can read all too well. Jealous little thing.

  Pointing my spoon at him, I warn, “Jeremy is going to eat with us, so you’d better behave. No barking and growling, mister.”

  His dark little eyes dart to stare behind me and a growl rumbles his body. I turn to find Jeremy standing behind me, his lips twitching as if he’s holding back a laugh. More likely, they’re restraining some smart-ass remark.

  “Shit. I’m going to hang a bell on you!”

  Jeremy takes off his baseball cap, steps around me and washes his hands at the sink. “He doesn’t listen well. You two seem to have that in common. Gutters are done. Your roof needs some repairs. I—”

  My arms fold across my chest, and I give him my best Don’t fuck with me glare. “You aren’t touching my roof unless you sit your ass down and eat. I don’t know why you’ve made my place a project, but if you aren’t going to let me do anything in return, you’ll have to find another way to fill your time.”

  I stand my ground as he stalks over to me, one heavy footstep at a time, his intense eyes locked on mine. He’s got at least eight inches on me, and though he’s not bulky, I’ve seen the lean muscles that live under that shirt. He smells amazing, a mixture of the fall air, dead leaves, and some kind of soap, all taking a backseat to the natural scent of him.

  I take a step backward, until my back is against the cabinet, and his hands land on the counter on either side of me.

  He bends over me, and his breath in my ear sends goosebumps racing up my arms. “I don’t take direction well, Melissa.” For a half a second, I think he might kiss me. His gaze stays focused on my lips as he reaches behind me and grabs a paper towel, then steps back to dry his hands. “But the chili does smell good.”

  He walks to the table, takes a seat, and casually rests his foot on his knee, waiting for me to serve his food.

  I open my mouth, but I can’t think of anything to say. I’m overwhelmed by the way he affects me, but I want to choke him at the same time. He’s so damned arrogant and surly and fucking sexy. Why do I always fall prey to these types of men?

  I ladle us both out a bowl of chili, and place them on the table with a pan of cornbread. I’ve barely set down the glasses of iced tea when he digs into the food. An awkward silence falls over the room. Instead of trying to force uncomfortable conversation, I flip on the small television in the corner. My favorite murder mystery show is on, and I’m not missing it just to hear him grunt at me.

  When I look away from the T.V., he’s staring at me. “You watch Dark and Unsolved?”

  Wow, initiating a conversation. How far we’ve come.

  “Yeah, I can’t believe how many ways people have found to kill and get away with it. The title isn’t apt, though.”

  His eyebrows raise a tiny bit as he looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

  “Most of the time they catch the killer, even if it’s years later. Very few are actually unsolved.”

  He nods, chewing his food. “Good show, though.”

  “I never miss it. That and How We Met are my two hours of guilty pleasure a week.” The glint of mischief in those coffee colored eyes make me wish for far more guilty pleasures with him. Naked, sweating, screaming guilty pleasures. Yeah, Melissa, just so he could kick you out in the morning. I need to reign in those thoughts.

  A smirk finds his lips. “So, murder and romance?”

  Shrugging, I sip my drink. “It’s the two sides of life, isn’t it? Love and Hate. Happiness and revenge.”

  “You don’t think someone could find happiness through revenge?” His intense gaze burns into me while he awaits a response. How did this conversation turn so deep and serious?

  I give his question some thought. Because my instant response would have been yes. I’m thrilled Dillon is dead and if given the chance to kill Anthony without repercussions, I’d take it without hesitation.

  “If there were no consequences, sure. Prison wouldn’t make most people happy.”

  “True,” he replies, and turns his attention to the screen.

  We both watch the show, pulled in by the plot and mystery. During a commercial, I clear the table, and I’m happy to see he makes no move to leave. Without asking, I set a piece of cherry cheesecake in front of him, before sitting down with my own.

  “The wife did it,” I announce.

  Jeremy looks up at me, and god help me, I’m staring at the sight of the fork sliding out of his mouth. Those lips. Ugh. It’s got to be pregnancy hormones making me want to plant my boobs in his face.

  “Nope, it was the kid,” he argues.

  “You’re crazy! He’s ten! How did he get the body buried?”

  “The kid stabbed him to protect the mother and the mother helped cover it up by burying the body.”

  “No way. The guy abused him, so the mother killed him to protect her kid.”

  Amusement glows on his face as he asks, “Want to bet?”

  “Bet what?”

  He sits back, resting his ankle on his knee. “If I’m right, you let me finish the work around your place without an argument.”

  “And if I win?”

  “Name it,” he dares.

  Oh, he isn’t going to like this.

  I point to the flyer hanging on my fridge that advertises a class at the local community center. “You have to attend weekly birthing and baby care classes with me. I’d like to go, but they say to bring a partner, so I don’t want t
o go alone and look like a loser.”

  His face hardens. “Being pregnant and unattached doesn’t make you a loser.” He sighs, and his gaze locks on mine. “It makes the absent father a loser. It’s a bet.”

  We fall into silence as the show resumes. A few minutes later, a grin breaks across his face as the narrator lays out how the kid killed his stepfather. “I’ll be damned. You can smile,” I remark, the words escaping before I have a chance to think about them.

  “Don’t change the subject. I win. I’ll get the tiles tomorrow.”

  A snort of laughter jumps from me. “Yeah, I’m getting my roof fixed for free. You really showed me.”

  Shaking his head, he gets to his feet. “Not free. I like your cooking. One roof for a big pot of this chili.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  He tucks his baseball cap down over his head, subtracting five years from his age. “See you later.” With that, he’s out my back door.

  All I can do is stare after him. He’s got to be the most confusing, but utterly lickable man I’ve ever come into contact with. I need a shower and a few minutes with my battery operated boyfriend.

  #

  I’ve been feeling bored and cooped up lately, so I decide to head a few towns away to a mall, where I can do some shopping. If I’m going to make another pot of chili for Jeremy, I also need to stop at a grocery store. I’ve heard that music soothes a savage beast, but in his case, food seems to be the best option.

  It occurs to me that the mall is kind of close to the True Life complex, but I’m not worried. Time and distance have given me perspective. They don’t have any control that I don’t give them, and I’m not dumb or desperate enough to hand it over like last time.

  It feels good to stretch my legs, and I duck into a few of the shops, buying some cute baby outfits I can’t resist. If only I knew the sex, I’d have a better idea of what to get. I haven’t started on the nursery yet, but I plan to soon. Since I already scanned most of what I’ll need for it, it’s just a matter of warming up my credit card and taking the leap.