Unlikely Ally, page 5
"You're awake."
"You bandaged me up?" I answer him with a question.
"Sure did." He folds his arms with a smile. I hadn't noticed before, but his cheek is now scarred. Its edges blackened. I stare at it until he brushes his finger against it. "Grazed by a bullet. Lucky me."
"You should play the lottery." I retort. My stomach gurgles again loudly, and he laughs out loud before heading toward the barn. I follow him, but to my surprise, we enter a large house behind the barn. "Has this been here the entire time?" I ask. He nods yes and leads the way into a spacious kitchen. Almost instantly, the smell of food hits my nostrils.
I sit down, and without asking, my father serves me a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. It doesn't sit for three seconds before I scarf it down. Noticing my intense hunger, my father begins to whip up more food that I happily finish. My food settles a bit before I finally speak again.
"Does Mom know where you are?" I ask him. It'd be kinda wrong to keep her in the dark.
"Vaguely."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I told her I was in my old hometown, but not because I was looking for my suicidal son." He narrows his eyes at me.
"Sorry. I didn't think you cared enough to come looking for me." The look on his face tells me my words hit a nerve.
"Of course I do. You're my son."
"How did you know I was here anyways?" I ask, washing my food down with orange juice.
"I found your note. Thank God you're so careless."
"Touché." I smile before clearing my throat. My father looks at me expectantly.
"So, about her ." I push my plate away. "Do you know who she is?" More specifically why she looks exactly like Violet, I think to myself.
"Not a clue." He rubs his head. "She doesn't have a piece of ID anywhere, not even a phone. In this day and age."
" It's like she's a ghost." I sigh out loud.
"Exactly. She's been out cold, so I haven't been able to talk to her yet." He pauses for a second. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens when she wakes up. I'll be right back. " He stands up and tries to exit the house without addressing the elephant in the room.
“Dad, I’m pretty sure you’ve noticed that this woman …” I think about how to phrase my statement. Either way, I know he’ll hate it. “She looks exactly like Violet.” I don’t ask him why, because I know he’s smart enough to gather that’s the direction my question is heading in.
He’s standing in the doorway, shoulders tensed. My mother and I usually avoided alluding to Violet because it filled him with dread. His posture relaxes seconds later, but his gaze is far off. Once again, I’m left to wonder what is going on in his head. Without a word, he walks off out of the house.
I allow him to cop out and put the subject on ice for now. We have had more than enough to deal with over the past few weeks. I decide to head back to the barn where I could keep an eye out for the strange woman. I want to be there when she wakes up.
You’re Questioning Me?
Mason
I make my way outside and back into the barn with painful strides. The ache in my stomach and back only seems to intensify now that my stomach is bloated with food. It makes me walk sluggishly. I make it back to the barn a few minutes later and inspect it. Everything is exactly like I left it, except for the woman who is asleep on her side with her face toward the door. For someone with a bullet wound, I’d expect less tossing and turning from someone with a bullet wound. I walk up to her and collapse onto the stack of hay next to her. It’s itchy and uncomfortable, but not the reason I can’t sleep.
I sit up and face the woman, my eyes searching for answers on her face. I hover over her, studying her features closely as if she were an experiment. I’m taken off guard when her eyes suddenly fly open. I jump back, feeling startled. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at me. Her eyes dart around the room a million miles per hour, but she doesn't utter a word. They finally settle on me, and I watch her face flash with different emotions.
"Who are you?" I ask.
She struggles to sit up, but the agonizing pain in her abdomen quickly stops her. She grabs her shirt and lifts it to verify the damage. Her stomach is covered in bloody bandages from the bullet wound. She spends a few seconds inspecting her injury before lifting her head to look me in the eyes. I don't hesitate to rattle off the questions that have been plaguing my mind since I came into contact with her.
"Who are you? What is your name?" I repeat the question, trying to press her for an answer. Her face quickly contorts into a scowl of annoyance.
"Are you questioning me? Can you tell me where I'm at?" Her voice was like a toxin. I step back once more, amazed by her abrupt outburst. Despite her current state, she still manages to look menacing. It’s too bad I'm all out of fear at the moment. It seems confusion is the only emotion I can muster up.
"Honestly, I don't even know. Friend of the family. Now your turn." I answer her as truthfully as I can. I don’t really know anything about who we are staying with besides that he’s a doctor and that he’s my father’s friend. If my father trusts him, then so do I. She pinches her nose bridge, clearly not impressed with my answer.
"I'm Lydia," she says. "Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to catch up with you, Mason?"
"Wait. How do you know my name?"
"Well, who do you think has been sending you all of those helpful letters?" She leans on her side to face me with a wince. "And this is how you repay me. Do you know your mother bit me like a rabid raccoon?” She asks. “Anyway, that’s not even the major thing. I was nearly shot dead by involving myself in all of this. Next time a case like Violet's comes up, I'll ignore it." She makes a swiping motion with her hand.
I try to register the words coming out of her mouth. She was B. I turned my gaze at her. Her eyes are puffy, but her resemblance to my late sister is still striking. It threw me off a little. I could feel a rush of emotions threatening to crash over me, but I fought it off with questions for Lydia.
"How do you know Violet?"
"I didn't."
"Then why do you care? I mean, you went through all of that trouble to help me."
"It's complicated. I never meant to become this involved. Her case was just so interesting to me.” She stares off at nothing. After a few seconds, she’s realized she blanked out and finishes her thought. “Now I finally understand the saying curiosity killed the cat."
"What were you doing in town?"
"You're just full of questions, aren't you?" She scowls before sighing. " I guess I owe you an explanation. I'm a CIA agent sent to find you and bring you back to them.”
"Really?" I say with mild sarcasm. Shamefully, a sliver of fear runs through my body at the thought of it being true.
"No. I was looking for you. To stop you from getting killed by the Beaufords. Big mistake." Her facial expression goes animated.
Although I still didn't understand why she would go to these lengths for curiosity, I let it go. I have only one more pressing question for her, but I can't bring myself to say it out loud. Why did she look exactly like my sister?
"Okay, since you seem to know everything about me, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"
"There's not much to know."
"There's something to know about everyone. I'm ready to assume the worst. You being so secretive doesn't help."
"Assume the worst about me, coming from a family of murderers and liars. That's rich." I cringe internally at her words. They were true. The most hurtful part is that I'm joining the legacy.
"Fair point. But you could be the exact same, or worse."
She bites her lip. It looks like she's trying to hold back another comment. I give her a few moments before I finally speak up. “Look, I understand you don't want to associate with my family's reputation. That's understandable. We all have our struggles, but I saved your life. That should count for something."
"It does." She rubs her arm. "But there really isn't much I can say about me.”
"How about your family? We wanted to contact someone, but you don't even have as much as an ID or cellphone. What's up with that?" I ask.
I notice her expression stiffens. She lets out a small sigh, a sign that she doesn't want to talk about it, but she answers anyway. "I have a cell phone. I also have a family ." The words slip out with a hint of disdain. "I left them behind once I turned eighteen. Don't like talking about them," she adds as an afterthought. I can tell she’s uncomfortable, so I don't push the issue. I know from experience how hard it is to talk about a difficult family situation.
We sit in silence for a few minutes.
"So, what else do you know about me?"
"You're rehabilitated. Proud of that." She smiles. I smile too. For some reason, it felt like Violet was telling me this and not a total stranger.
"Have you ever noticed you look a lot like her?" I think aloud.
"Her?" She asks before the realization dawns on her. "You mean Violet?"
"Yea, you kinda have the same face, at least to me."
"I guess." Her face is blank and she starts staring off again.
That's when the outlandish thought I’ve been trying to dodge makes its way center-front in my mind. Is it possible that my father has other children?
It’s NOT over yet..
Theres a fourth book! [ Click HERE to start reading “RISKY DECISION ” book 4 in the Violet Carter series Today! ]
Book 4 Description
Mason Carter and his family are finally reunited.
In the fourth installment of this suspense series, the Carters finally face the consequences of their choices as they're forced to uproot their lives to save them.
Meanwhile, Mason is back on track with his quest for justice. He is sure of his sister's killer and plans to put them behind bars. Much to his surprise, his journey takes a small but helpful diversion that leads him to find a long-kept secret that changes the entire dynamic of his family.
With the Beauford family waiting to trap him at every turn, Mason must cautiously navigate his newly uncovered secret and emotions.
As he approaches the solution, he realizes he may have to call for reinforcement. The only problem is that he could expose every crime in his family's past.
Will Mason decide his sister's justice is worth more than his family's future? Find out in this small-town thriller.
Don’t Miss Mason’s journey to his small town as he searches to uncover what really happened that fateful night. CLICK HERE today and continue.
Other Books By This Author
About This Author
B.P Stevens lives in Ontario Canada and enjoys writing mystery thriller books. He has always enjoyed reading books. Whether it be as a teenager reading for hours on end or now as a father reading to his children. From his home in Ontario, he just can't seem to stop writing books and that's okay with us!
If you would like to join Stevens's email newsletter and get his exclusive FREE book “The Bleeding Carpets”.
Find him at Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/author/b.pstevensamazon
Email
bpstevens.author@gmail.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/BP-Stevens-110649618353057
Free Gift
Sign up to my mailing list to receive this FREE exclusive copy of (Bleeding Carpets) as well as to be notified on any new releases, contents, cover reveals, giveaways and so much more.
Get my free book here!
Review This Book
P.s It means a lot to me that you bought my book. Writing is my love and passion and I look forward to YOUR feedback.
If you liked this book, I’d like to ask for a small favour. Would you be so kind to leave a review on Amazon? It’d be very much appreciated!
From your friend, B.P Stevens
B.P Stevens, Unlikely Ally
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"You bandaged me up?" I answer him with a question.
"Sure did." He folds his arms with a smile. I hadn't noticed before, but his cheek is now scarred. Its edges blackened. I stare at it until he brushes his finger against it. "Grazed by a bullet. Lucky me."
"You should play the lottery." I retort. My stomach gurgles again loudly, and he laughs out loud before heading toward the barn. I follow him, but to my surprise, we enter a large house behind the barn. "Has this been here the entire time?" I ask. He nods yes and leads the way into a spacious kitchen. Almost instantly, the smell of food hits my nostrils.
I sit down, and without asking, my father serves me a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. It doesn't sit for three seconds before I scarf it down. Noticing my intense hunger, my father begins to whip up more food that I happily finish. My food settles a bit before I finally speak again.
"Does Mom know where you are?" I ask him. It'd be kinda wrong to keep her in the dark.
"Vaguely."
"Care to elaborate?"
"I told her I was in my old hometown, but not because I was looking for my suicidal son." He narrows his eyes at me.
"Sorry. I didn't think you cared enough to come looking for me." The look on his face tells me my words hit a nerve.
"Of course I do. You're my son."
"How did you know I was here anyways?" I ask, washing my food down with orange juice.
"I found your note. Thank God you're so careless."
"Touché." I smile before clearing my throat. My father looks at me expectantly.
"So, about her ." I push my plate away. "Do you know who she is?" More specifically why she looks exactly like Violet, I think to myself.
"Not a clue." He rubs his head. "She doesn't have a piece of ID anywhere, not even a phone. In this day and age."
" It's like she's a ghost." I sigh out loud.
"Exactly. She's been out cold, so I haven't been able to talk to her yet." He pauses for a second. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens when she wakes up. I'll be right back. " He stands up and tries to exit the house without addressing the elephant in the room.
“Dad, I’m pretty sure you’ve noticed that this woman …” I think about how to phrase my statement. Either way, I know he’ll hate it. “She looks exactly like Violet.” I don’t ask him why, because I know he’s smart enough to gather that’s the direction my question is heading in.
He’s standing in the doorway, shoulders tensed. My mother and I usually avoided alluding to Violet because it filled him with dread. His posture relaxes seconds later, but his gaze is far off. Once again, I’m left to wonder what is going on in his head. Without a word, he walks off out of the house.
I allow him to cop out and put the subject on ice for now. We have had more than enough to deal with over the past few weeks. I decide to head back to the barn where I could keep an eye out for the strange woman. I want to be there when she wakes up.
You’re Questioning Me?
Mason
I make my way outside and back into the barn with painful strides. The ache in my stomach and back only seems to intensify now that my stomach is bloated with food. It makes me walk sluggishly. I make it back to the barn a few minutes later and inspect it. Everything is exactly like I left it, except for the woman who is asleep on her side with her face toward the door. For someone with a bullet wound, I’d expect less tossing and turning from someone with a bullet wound. I walk up to her and collapse onto the stack of hay next to her. It’s itchy and uncomfortable, but not the reason I can’t sleep.
I sit up and face the woman, my eyes searching for answers on her face. I hover over her, studying her features closely as if she were an experiment. I’m taken off guard when her eyes suddenly fly open. I jump back, feeling startled. Her gaze is intense as she looks up at me. Her eyes dart around the room a million miles per hour, but she doesn't utter a word. They finally settle on me, and I watch her face flash with different emotions.
"Who are you?" I ask.
She struggles to sit up, but the agonizing pain in her abdomen quickly stops her. She grabs her shirt and lifts it to verify the damage. Her stomach is covered in bloody bandages from the bullet wound. She spends a few seconds inspecting her injury before lifting her head to look me in the eyes. I don't hesitate to rattle off the questions that have been plaguing my mind since I came into contact with her.
"Who are you? What is your name?" I repeat the question, trying to press her for an answer. Her face quickly contorts into a scowl of annoyance.
"Are you questioning me? Can you tell me where I'm at?" Her voice was like a toxin. I step back once more, amazed by her abrupt outburst. Despite her current state, she still manages to look menacing. It’s too bad I'm all out of fear at the moment. It seems confusion is the only emotion I can muster up.
"Honestly, I don't even know. Friend of the family. Now your turn." I answer her as truthfully as I can. I don’t really know anything about who we are staying with besides that he’s a doctor and that he’s my father’s friend. If my father trusts him, then so do I. She pinches her nose bridge, clearly not impressed with my answer.
"I'm Lydia," she says. "Do you have any idea how long I've been trying to catch up with you, Mason?"
"Wait. How do you know my name?"
"Well, who do you think has been sending you all of those helpful letters?" She leans on her side to face me with a wince. "And this is how you repay me. Do you know your mother bit me like a rabid raccoon?” She asks. “Anyway, that’s not even the major thing. I was nearly shot dead by involving myself in all of this. Next time a case like Violet's comes up, I'll ignore it." She makes a swiping motion with her hand.
I try to register the words coming out of her mouth. She was B. I turned my gaze at her. Her eyes are puffy, but her resemblance to my late sister is still striking. It threw me off a little. I could feel a rush of emotions threatening to crash over me, but I fought it off with questions for Lydia.
"How do you know Violet?"
"I didn't."
"Then why do you care? I mean, you went through all of that trouble to help me."
"It's complicated. I never meant to become this involved. Her case was just so interesting to me.” She stares off at nothing. After a few seconds, she’s realized she blanked out and finishes her thought. “Now I finally understand the saying curiosity killed the cat."
"What were you doing in town?"
"You're just full of questions, aren't you?" She scowls before sighing. " I guess I owe you an explanation. I'm a CIA agent sent to find you and bring you back to them.”
"Really?" I say with mild sarcasm. Shamefully, a sliver of fear runs through my body at the thought of it being true.
"No. I was looking for you. To stop you from getting killed by the Beaufords. Big mistake." Her facial expression goes animated.
Although I still didn't understand why she would go to these lengths for curiosity, I let it go. I have only one more pressing question for her, but I can't bring myself to say it out loud. Why did she look exactly like my sister?
"Okay, since you seem to know everything about me, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"
"There's not much to know."
"There's something to know about everyone. I'm ready to assume the worst. You being so secretive doesn't help."
"Assume the worst about me, coming from a family of murderers and liars. That's rich." I cringe internally at her words. They were true. The most hurtful part is that I'm joining the legacy.
"Fair point. But you could be the exact same, or worse."
She bites her lip. It looks like she's trying to hold back another comment. I give her a few moments before I finally speak up. “Look, I understand you don't want to associate with my family's reputation. That's understandable. We all have our struggles, but I saved your life. That should count for something."
"It does." She rubs her arm. "But there really isn't much I can say about me.”
"How about your family? We wanted to contact someone, but you don't even have as much as an ID or cellphone. What's up with that?" I ask.
I notice her expression stiffens. She lets out a small sigh, a sign that she doesn't want to talk about it, but she answers anyway. "I have a cell phone. I also have a family ." The words slip out with a hint of disdain. "I left them behind once I turned eighteen. Don't like talking about them," she adds as an afterthought. I can tell she’s uncomfortable, so I don't push the issue. I know from experience how hard it is to talk about a difficult family situation.
We sit in silence for a few minutes.
"So, what else do you know about me?"
"You're rehabilitated. Proud of that." She smiles. I smile too. For some reason, it felt like Violet was telling me this and not a total stranger.
"Have you ever noticed you look a lot like her?" I think aloud.
"Her?" She asks before the realization dawns on her. "You mean Violet?"
"Yea, you kinda have the same face, at least to me."
"I guess." Her face is blank and she starts staring off again.
That's when the outlandish thought I’ve been trying to dodge makes its way center-front in my mind. Is it possible that my father has other children?
It’s NOT over yet..
Theres a fourth book! [ Click HERE to start reading “RISKY DECISION ” book 4 in the Violet Carter series Today! ]
Book 4 Description
Mason Carter and his family are finally reunited.
In the fourth installment of this suspense series, the Carters finally face the consequences of their choices as they're forced to uproot their lives to save them.
Meanwhile, Mason is back on track with his quest for justice. He is sure of his sister's killer and plans to put them behind bars. Much to his surprise, his journey takes a small but helpful diversion that leads him to find a long-kept secret that changes the entire dynamic of his family.
With the Beauford family waiting to trap him at every turn, Mason must cautiously navigate his newly uncovered secret and emotions.
As he approaches the solution, he realizes he may have to call for reinforcement. The only problem is that he could expose every crime in his family's past.
Will Mason decide his sister's justice is worth more than his family's future? Find out in this small-town thriller.
Don’t Miss Mason’s journey to his small town as he searches to uncover what really happened that fateful night. CLICK HERE today and continue.
Other Books By This Author
About This Author
B.P Stevens lives in Ontario Canada and enjoys writing mystery thriller books. He has always enjoyed reading books. Whether it be as a teenager reading for hours on end or now as a father reading to his children. From his home in Ontario, he just can't seem to stop writing books and that's okay with us!
If you would like to join Stevens's email newsletter and get his exclusive FREE book “The Bleeding Carpets”.
Find him at Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/author/b.pstevensamazon
bpstevens.author@gmail.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/BP-Stevens-110649618353057
Free Gift
Sign up to my mailing list to receive this FREE exclusive copy of (Bleeding Carpets) as well as to be notified on any new releases, contents, cover reveals, giveaways and so much more.
Get my free book here!
Review This Book
P.s It means a lot to me that you bought my book. Writing is my love and passion and I look forward to YOUR feedback.
If you liked this book, I’d like to ask for a small favour. Would you be so kind to leave a review on Amazon? It’d be very much appreciated!
From your friend, B.P Stevens
B.P Stevens, Unlikely Ally
