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He sat on her picnic table, his feet planted on the bench. When he had arrived he knew he would have to wait. The lights were all ablaze on the first floor & every once in a while he'd see the top of one of her kids' heads as they ran by the kitchen. There was no way she'd leave those kids until they were in bed. He could drop off the manila envelope in her mailbox. He'd planned to drop it off in her mailbox. But when he walked up to the house he saw her minivan in the driveway & he slipped into her backyard instead.
She had been really fucking stupid & he'd had to let her know that. In retrospect he wished he had kept some of the anger out of his voice with the way she had already been hurting, but he wasn't there to hold her hand, to be her guidance counselor or her bestie. She needed to understand the type of people she was dealing with, that this wasn't some PTA event that she was coordinating. There could be dire consequences to her actions, she couldn't afford to fuck up.
He'd gotten back in his car & driven straight to that run down house. He needed to make sure his words were true when he said they didn't have her daughter & to make damn sure they left Elizabeth alone.
He banged on the door thrice before resting his fist against the door frame.
"Evening," he said, all calm & collected when the door opened.
"Is there a problem?" the ginger man asked.
"I don't know." Rio pushed him in the chest, walking past him into the room. He heard the door shut as he took another step before turning quick on his heel. He pulled his gun from the waist of his pants & held it to the man's head. "You tell me."
"We're cool!"
"I don't know about that. My partner was here earlier with her girls & she's not too happy right now." He wished that there was another light on. It was all shadow in his peripheral vision & he hadn't taken the time to do any recon. He didn't know where this guy's boys were. "Her little girl is missing, you know anything about that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Rio's fist flew, hitting him square in the jaw. "Try again."
"I swear, I don't know anything about her daughter!"
He punched him again, his knuckles striking bone. "I don't got no where to be, you let me know how long this is going to take, yeah?"
The man coward, trying to move out of the strike zone. "I don't have her daughter," he told Rio. "I just have the blanket she came here looking for. It's in the other room."
A blanket. She had to be kidding him.
He gestured with the gun. "Get it. Now."
He kept the gun trained on carrot top as he thought about how this woman was going to be the death of him. He hadn't even given it a second thought when he thought she might be in trouble. And it wasn't because she could wash money, smuggle, or deliver. Yeah, she impressed him given her background, but that wasn't it. At the end of the day he had other ways to get the job done; she was dispensable in that sense. But she looked at him with those big blue eyes, tears in them, & suddenly he was the one in trouble because he would do anything to make things better for her.
The man held a little pink blanket out. Rio grabbed it & tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He closed the distance between them & held the gun to his head again.
"I don't want to hear that you've been in the vacinity of any of those women, you got it? Forget that they were ever here. You go near them & you won't be alive long enough to regret it."
He got a nod in response.
"Good."
When he slid into the driver's seat he took the blanket out & held it in his hand. The yarn had started to pill, showing signs of how well used it was. It was her daughter's blanket, he realized. He still thought it was foolish, but he understood. When it came to your kid you'd move the world for them, go to hell & back again. He was relieved that these men didn't have her, but he knew that meant that Elizabeth would still be frantically looking for her. He pulled out his phone to see who he could send over to help.
+++
He heard the door open & shut & then she was there, perching herself next to him on the picnic table. She had a glass of bourbon in one hand. It shouldn't have been surprising that she didn't offer him one after their earlier encounter. They sat there for a moment, neither saying anything or moving an inch. He waited until she raised the glass to her lips.
"I'm glad Jane is safe," he told her.
"How did you-"
He cut her off & said, "I sent Mick over, but he said the police & all of the cars were leaving. Figured you must have found her, else they would have stayed."
She took a hard gulp of her drink, looking toward the house.
"She was in my closet. Right there in the house." The glass raised & lowered again. "She packed a suitcase because she wanted to run away." Another sip.
"Ah, I think all kids try to run away at least once," he told her.
At that she slung back the rest of her drink. "It's because of me."
"Usually is one parent or the other, right?" he asked.
"What am I doing, missing my kid's dance recital, taking my kids to some shady house!" She threw the highball glass to the ground. He raised an eyebrow at that, but she didn't see as she put her head down in her hands.
He slid the manila envelope onto her lap.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked him.
He waited. Sat there as the booze & a fleet of emotions coursed through her, her head swimming. As she sighed & finally picked up the package. Her body shook next to him as she saw the pink yarn peek out of the torn corner. She didn't bother to take the whole blanket out, she just sat there with paper & pink fuzz in her hand as a sob escaped her.
It was like a reflex, his hand reaching for hers, his fingers closing over her fist. She didn't pull away from him, even as he gently stroked her skin.
He knew she'd talk if she wanted to, so he silently kept her company. Her shoulders shook as she cried. Once her breathing started to slow he turned his face toward her. There was mascara pooling under her watery eyes. She still looked gorgeous, he thought. Sad, but gorgeous. Her eyes flickered down to the blanket in her lap.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Her other hand brushed against his, her fingers running over his red knuckles.
"Rio," she said, her voice low.
"You're welcome," he told her.
"Rio," she said again.
"It's nothing, ma," he answered. His free hand rose up to her chin, his thumb flitting over the cleft there. His eyes caught hers & she didn't look away.
And he knew that he would show up at any house, beat up anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way, all over again. He shook his head a little in disbelief at this suburban mom who didn't even know she had his heart in shackles. Slowly he leaned into her, his lips brushing against hers. Her mouth parted & he could feel her warm whiskey breath. He drank it in, the way she was so close to him. He took her bottom lip, his teeth lightly raking against it.
Yeah, he thought, there wasn't much he wouldn't do to be here with her like this. What he couldn't prevent he wanted to help heal, no matter how long it took. He ran the edge of his thumb along her jaw as he leaned back again. His fingers skimmed her neck.
"I don't know what to do about the kids," she confessed.
"You'll figure it out," he reassured her. "You're a good mom, but you don't always have to have the answers right away, you know."
She blew a breath out of the side of her mouth, her bangs fluttering slightly.
"I just don't want to screw them up."
He nodded, thinking about the lengths that he went to trying to keep Marcus away from it all.
"You'll learn," he told her.
A beat went by & she asked, "What, you're not going to teach me?" Her head rolled back as she laughed.
"Oh, you have jokes now?" He smiled lazily at her. "Was there something wrong with my instruction?"
She smiled back at him as she knocked her foot against his on the bench. "No." Her face flushed & he was willing to bet that she was remembering the way he stood behind her, teaching her how to aim a gun.
He glanced toward the house, thinking about how her kids were already in bed. He knew Dean was home too, having seen his car in the driveway behind hers. If he sat here with her for much longer he was going to have a real hard time not staying. So he placed his hands on the picnic table & pushed himself up. He grabbed the highball glass from the ground & held it out to her. She took it, holding the glass & the package.
"You know," she said, "I bought all this yarn to make a new blanket. Maybe I'll make something for you instead."
"Maybe you will. Good night, Elizabeth."
+++
He sat behind the wheel watching her house. The light was on in her bedroom, seeping through the edges of the curtains. It was pointless, sitting there on her street. He had other things to tend to, but something was stopping him from turning on the engine & getting out of there.
The memory of her lips played in his mind. There hasn't been time in that bathroom. It was quick, rough, hot; it was a whole lot of pent up tension. His mouth had roamed over parts of her body, but her mouth hadn't been one of them. Now that he'd had a taste he was sure it wouldn't be much longer before he was back for more.
When the light blinked out in her room & he was satisfied that things would be quiet for the night he maneuvered out of the spot he had parked in. Although he couldn't help but glance in his rear view mirror as he pulled away.