Hyde, an Urban Fantasy

  “You wouldn’t.” The glare in his eyes was exactly what Mitch wanted to see.

  He smirked. “Why not?”

  “You wouldn’t screw with her, knowing that if she was herself, she wouldn’t want you to.”

  Mitch paused, gearing up for the lie. “Maybe yes, maybe no. Where the hell is everyone getting the idea that I’m a decent human being, anyway?”

  “Can’t Jolie be here instead of me?”

  “Jolie is . . . complicated.” To say the least. Mitch wasn’t sure where Jolie’s head was at regarding Eden or what she might do if she found out about Chastity. “And you never know, she might wanna join in.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Mitch didn’t think so either. “Eden needs you now, Carter. More than ever before.” He knew when the boy scout had given up, resigned himself to a situation he wanted no part of, but had no choice in. Kind of like all of them had. And who knew, maybe it would earn Carter another merit badge.

  “I need a drink,” he said.

  “Get what you need. With two glasses. Then come straight back here. Don’t make me have to hunt you down.”

  The kid nodded and headed downstairs with his head pointed at his feet. Still hearing shouts from the cage, Mitch grabbed a chair from another room and brought it back into Hyde’s room. It was going to be a long night. He tried asking Chastity questions, but it was no use. She wasn’t very happy with him.

  Carter took his time, but eventually came back up with two glasses and a bottle of Jack. By the time Chastity stopped yelling, cajoling and trying to seduce her way out of her prison, they’d gone through half the bottle. She sat on the edge of the mattress, glaring at both of them.

  “I have to do this every four days?” Carter asked, filling his glass again.

  Mitch held his out for a top-off. “Get drunk?”

  Carter shook his head. When he stopped, his body waved back and forth, trying to right itself. His tolerance had just been tested . . . and bested.

  “No, we can trade off,” Mitch said. “But I needed to know you could do it right and not run away.”

  “I’m not sure I can. They don’t teach this shit in the Police Academy.”

  “You’re in the regular academy? I thought they had standards.” Mitch laughed into his drink.

  Carter sat up a bit. “Did Jolie tell you that I was in the regular academy?”

  “You mean, Eden.”

  “Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, yeah. I mean Eden.”

  “I don’t remember what she told me. Tech School? Police School? Whatever.”

  Carter sighed. “I’m training to be a forensic tech, not an officer. I couldn’t get into the regular academy.” His words were slurring softly.

  Mitch took the bottle away from him. “Because of your illness?”

  Carter nodded.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Epilepsy.”

  “Epilepsy mixed with Narcolepsy?”

  “Among other things, Epilepsy causes”—he made air-quotes—“‘extreme fatigue’. So do some of the medications. My doc hasn’t been able to get it right yet.”

  “Oh.” Wow, weren’t they just a perfect little family—sleep issues for everybody. “They teach you how to fight in tech school.”

  “No, that’s why I go to the gym.”

  “Think you could take me on?”

  “I’d love to try.”

  Mitch smiled at the challenge in the guy’s eyes. “When and where?”

  “The gym I go to: Busted. We’d have to wear gloves though.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Yeah.”

  They heard a whimper from the cage, bringing them both back to the cause of their animosity.

  Chastity looked confused and miserable as she fell back onto the mattress and closed her eyes. When her body spasmed, both men quietly approached. As soon as they saw Eden’s brown eyes open, Carter slammed the key he’d been clutching into the lock.

  Throwing the blanket around herself, she rushed to him and touched his face. “You made it.”

  “You made it.” He hugged her.

  She grimaced. “And you smell awful. What have you boys been drinking?”

  Mitch stayed with his back against the wall, struggling to subdue the pangs of jealousy toward Carter and the slugs of pain from Hyde.

  CHAPTER XXX

  Mitch kept his distance for the rest of the morning, unhappy that they both seemed so comfortable with the hospitality he was forced to offer. He wanted the boy scout to leave so he could be alone with Eden. But that would be a huge mistake. Maybe Carter’s hovering was a good thing.

  After they left, Mitch jumped into a cold shower and switched into work-mode. It was a welcome respite. He got to the office late, his client waiting impatiently along with a pissy Jolie, who gave him a look that would’ve mortally wounded a lesser man. Mitch blew her off.

  He cut the session short. He’d only been paying attention to every-other word the V.P. of Fresh Visual said anyway. The guy was probably grateful he didn’t get the whole hour he’d paid for. Mitch had really laid into him, pointing out every stupid thing he was doing in his professional life along with some personal jabs for good measure.

  Then it was Jolie’s turn to let Mitch have it. “You look like hell. Did you sleep at all?”

  “No. Anybody else coming in today?”

  She ignored his question. “What did you do last night?”

  “There was a Scream marathon on—I couldn’t put down the remote.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “No, I’m not.” With as much practice as he’d had over the years, why was everyone just catching on now?

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Drop it.”

  “Fine.” She gave him one last glare and then put on her game face, studying her planner. “You leave for Atlanta on Thursday. I got a morning flight for you, returning Friday at noon. You’ll pick up the car at—”

  “Nope. I need to be back by Thursday night.” He had a Thursday Night Smackdown planned with Carter and Chastity.

  Jolie looked up at him. “There are no flights.”

  “Find one.”

  “I tried.”

  “Try harder.”

  “What do you think I do all day, Mitchell?” The intensity of her voice increased with each word, climaxing with his name clenched-out of a stiff jaw. “While you are off doing who-knows-what, I have to cover for you. Lying to clients, buttering them up so they stay clients whenever you decide to play house with your new toy. I hope she’s worth it.”

  Ah-ha, so it wasn’t that he was flaking on work, it was who he was flaking on work with. “I pay you awfully well to do what you do. If that includes the occasional cover-up, you’ve never complained before.”

  They both understood which cover-up he was referring to.

  “Maybe I should start complaining then.”

  “Maybe you should.” He tapped his pen against her desk hard enough to nearly break the thing. “Try to find an earlier flight back. Please.” He let the word hover in the air between them. Fitting, since he doubted he’d ever said it before. “Even if I have a layover in Budapest. I need to be back by midnight.”

  “You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “Just tell me it’s not about Hyde.”

  “It’s not about Hyde.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded and went back into his office, slamming the door behind him. He flinched—not because of the sound, but because of the violence he felt in himself. In the man, apart from the beast.

  I will not lose control.

  He took a few deep breathes and then dialed Eden’s cell phone, cringing that he knew the number by heart having only called her, what, twice? He needed to up his game, be more aware of any signs Hyde was on his way out. He was being too fucking nice for the bastard to stay down much longer.


  She answered on the second ring, like she was expecting him to call. Another bad sign. “Hi.”

  “Look, there’s a chance I won’t be there for your next transformation. I’m going out of town and might not be able to make it back.”

  “Carter knows what to do. We’ll be fine.”

  “I had to get the guy drunk to keep his ass in the chair last night. I’m not convinced he understands or is even capable of sticking around for you.”

  “He’s stuck around me for years. You can trust him.”

  Yeah, sure. Maybe he should restock his liquor cabinet before he left. “I’ll be back in time. Just don’t go to sleep until I’m there.”

  “You’re worried about nothing.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  After a long, awkward pause, they hung up before either of them said anything useful. Mitch wasn’t sure which one of them hung up first. It was a relief either way. Talking about that kind of shit wasn’t his forte, not that he had any experience with it. Feelings were for people with feelings. He’d always assumed he didn’t have any. Surprise, surprise.

  § § §

  Jolie couldn’t find an earlier flight. His speech for Bennett Financial stank. He couldn’t focus and had never written an outline in his life. No doubt it would be the last time they fought to get him for any of their execs. Great, he was losing his mind and his clientele. Good fucking times.

  He went to the airport directly after finishing the meeting, more impatient than a pregnant woman in her fourth trimester. Cursing himself for not carrying enough cash, he offered passengers on earlier flights a hundred bucks in tens and fives. No takers. He seriously considered threatening a few of them, but knew he’d probably end up man-handling an Air Marshall and have to walk back to Florida.

  “It’s me,” he said, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear.

  “I know. Caller ID.” Eden’s voice brought an uncomfortable clench in his gut. Damn her.

  “I’m not going to make it. Did you talk to Carter?”

  “He knows what to do. And what not to do. Don’t worry.”

  “Thanks for the advice. Make sure he knows where the key is and—Shit!” He ignored the stares from travelers around him. “I didn’t give you a key to my place.” Damn it, could you be any stupider, asshole?

  “Oh.”

  He imagined her brain working as quickly as his was trying to. He hoped she was more successful with hers than he was with his. He had nothing.

  “We can stay here,” she said. “Carter can lock me into my room.”

  That wasn’t good enough. “Break a window in my back door and let yourself in.”

  “And get arrested when one of your neighbors calls the cops? No, thanks. I’ll be safer here than in the pokey.”

  What the hell was a pokey? “Give Carter a message for me,” he grumbled into the phone. “If he lets anything happen to you, he’ll spend the rest of his life sleeping . . . in a coma.”

  “Ok-ay. There’s no need for violence, Mitch. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

  Sadly, that was a promise she had no control over keeping. “Give him the message. And, Eden . . . be safe.” Another thing she couldn’t control.

  “I will. Can you call when you get back?”

  “I’ll come by your place as soon as the plane touches down.”

  He sat in the first class waiting area, gripping his phone, waiting for . . . for what? And what the hell could he do if something went wrong anyway? At midnight, he cursed himself for not bringing Jolie into it, telling her about Chastity and getting her to let them into the house. But it was too late now. He’d know if Carter had done his job in eight more hours. Eight mother-fucking long hours.

  CHAPTER XXXI

  Eden woke up on the couch, Carter frantically clearing off the coffee table in front of her. He never cleaned. “What are you doing?”

  He glanced up from the table and threw his hands behind his back. His eyes were in full panic mode, his mouth moving but no sound escaping.

  “What’s wrong?” Why wasn’t she still in her bedroom? “Did she—” Eden saw the door to her bedroom. There were two large holes near the hinges and it was hanging at an odd angle, staying upright only because of the padlock on the outside. Then she looked to the front door, which was slightly ajar, but still looked whole. She grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it and her arms around her naked body. “How did she get out?”

  Carter shook his head, but said nothing.

  Eden brought her hand up to rub her eyes. When she unclenched her fist, she saw a straw. Cut short. An inch, maybe two. Not something one would use for a daiquiri. Some kind of powder sticking to one end. Fear. Horror. The unimaginable. Swiping her nose with her other hand, she saw traces of the same white powder on her finger. She looked up to Carter in desperation.

  “What happened, Carter? How did she get out?” Her voice was nearing hysterical.

  He tucked his arms in tighter.

  “Tell me what happened! Why did you let her out?”

  His mouth opened. A second later, words tumbled out. “I didn’t. She didn’t get out.” He avoided eye-contact.

  “Then where did I get this?” Her heart rate was increasing exponentially. When he didn’t respond, she asked again. “Carter! Where did this come from?” She held out her hands, palms up.

  He didn’t look at her. “I got it from a friend. I just . . .”

  She clenched her fists, one still holding the straw. “What is it?”

  Silence.

  “What. Is. It.” Her jaw was locked, and the words had to struggle their way out. How could he bring this into their home? Her home?

  “It’s not heroin, Eden. I swear.”

  A small part of her was relieved—the idea that the same drug that had killed her mother might be coursing through her veins was unbearable. But Chastity had snorted something and left Eden with all the repercussions. She looked at the straw in her hand again, not knowing if the racing beat of her heart was due to fear or the drug.

  “It’s not—” he stuttered. “It’s medicine.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape, taking shallow breaths. “Medicine? Are you kidding me? Is that what you call it?” she spat, hurling the straw at him. It landed on the floor between them, fueling her anger even more. Inadequate. The toss had been inadequate. She was inadequate. And Carter was absolutely inadequate.

  “How could you, Carter?” she screamed. “Medicine that just happens to look exactly like cocaine, huh? Does giving it another name make it okay? Do you think I’m stupid?”

  He stepped back, his face red, his eyes shiny. “It was in my room. I never imagined she would find it. That you would find it. You never go in my room. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Her voice filled the apartment. “Oh, well if you’re sorry, then it’s no big deal. We can both just turn into junkies. Since you’re sorry.” Her worst fear, and he had brought it into their home, a reminder of everything she’d fought against, everything she hated. And he knew. He knew how afraid she was to even be near it.

  “I’m not a junkie, Eden, I swear.”

  “Is this what you’ve been taking all this time? Is this your ‘medicine’?”

  “No, it’s not for me.”

  “Yeah, right.” Rage burned through her chest, charring her belief in him and her trust in her own judgment.

  “It’s to help—”

  “To help you focus, right? Sure it is.” She looked around the room for something to throw at him, something heavy that would hurt. But he’d done such a thorough job of clearing off the table, there was nothing. So she tossed off the blanket and ran at him.

  He stood still, accepting the pounding of her fists on his chest. But it was no use—she could never punish him enough.

  She shoved him away and cried, “Well, I hope you are very focused while you get your stuff and get out!” Leave me alone so my heart can finish breaking.

  “I’m sor
ry, Eden. I never would have . . .” He lifted his arms as if he wanted to hug her.