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Authors: Michelle McGriff

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BOOK: Swerve
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Chapter 18

Twenty-nine years ago

The power had gone to his head. It was just that simple. Even he had to admit it. It wasn't that complicated of a situation. Focusing on natural abilities, extrasensory perceptions, and biophysical anomalies, the Phoenix had trained up a team of young people who to the outside appeared to be supernatural, paranormal, and beyond mysterious.

Phoenix played on those natural talents and the gullibility of those young people in order to build his own empire. He had governments eating out of his hand. Bidding for assignments turned eventually into those same people begging for his help. Soon it didn't matter whose side of the flag he was on, as long as the price was right.

A life of luxury he had and provided for those he'd raised as he would his own children—along with his own children. Yes, the Phoenix had children, yet he'd only claimed one: Stone.

Stone was his pride and joy.

Everyone figured it was because of his confident ways and leadership abilities, but Stix knew differently. He knew Stone's secret. He had pyrokinetic abilities. He was a fire freak—just like the Phoenix was. Once Stone got older he actually put two and two together and figured out the reason the Phoenix was the Phoenix and yes, it all had to do with this ability of his—this heightened physical anomaly that enabled him to start fires at will. Stone was young when he realized he had the ability as well. At first it scared him, but after a little training he quickly began to use it to his advantage.

“And it's not fair when you're a true leader,” Stix explained. “All that hocus pocus really can only take you so far.”

“So what are your abilities, considering you claim that the Phoenix is your father too?” She asked, as if knowing the answer.

“He
is
my father and, no, I have no such ‘abilities.'”

“So you felt disfavored?”

“Unchosen would be more appropriate of a word, but yes. It's not as if Stone is any older. We were born on the same night,” Stix continued.

“Ah, twins of a different mother. I've heard of that phenomenon as well.”

“There is no hocus pocus in that. My father—our father—was just a man whore who liked his share of women and had no respect for precautions or birth control methods.”

“You hate your father, don't you?” again her question seemed rhetorical.

Stix looked away from the woman and then turned back to look deep in her eyes. He wished now that he had the mental abilities of Capri, that of clairsentience, so that he could read her thoughts, or of electrokinesis so that he could show her something powerful, such as turning on and off the lights with his mind. Or maybe even if he, like his brother, had inherited the heightened senses that would allow him to start a fire from his chair.

“Maybe I just hate everyone,” he admitted.

“So you no longer profess loyalties to this group, and we can have your help in tracking them down and arresting them.” The female special agent asked.

“And in return I get what?”

“You get amnesty.” The female agent assured.

For allowing him to hunt down his family like dogs, Stix would be able to avoid prison.

Chapter 19

An unsolved case of hit and run, that was all the report said. Unsatisfactory, as far as Romia was concerned. She'd never looked into her mother's death file this closely before but now, in light of all that was happening, she could only start there for answers. This was the library. She had gone there earlier in the day. It was a public record she pulled up, and she had to wonder how much she was really learning and how much was just made up.

Murder? Could someone have murdered her? Why?

Her mother was a private person. She loved to laugh. She enjoyed walks in the park, snuggling, and making cocoa on cold nights. They lived quietly, that Romia remembered. No grandparents, no aunts, uncles, cousins, or father. Mother was all Romia had. When she was taken from her, Romia had nothing. Fighting curbed her anger and being a cop curbed her loneliness. When the force took away her ability to fight outside the competitive ring, she was okay with it; she had Keliegh, her partner and only friend.

When he moved on in his career, she was given another partner. The void was obvious and the discomfort between her and her partner clear. But still, she had Keliegh as a friend, her only one. Eventually, with her friendship to Keliegh came Tommy, which was okay. Tommy seemed to know her need for Keliegh and never challenged or made an issue of Romia's place in Keliegh's life. Now, for no reason at all, everything was crazy. Everything was twisted around. Even Keliegh seemed to not trust her anymore. She was about to lose it all. The anger was returning, and so was the loneliness. She wanted to fight, to bite, to hate—the same way she felt for many days, weeks, and months after her mother died.

A father?
The thought of that just made her angrier.

Maybe Tommy was right, maybe she needed to just turn herself in and get this over with. All this running was making her sick and getting her nowhere closer to anything close to the truth.

Romia knew she would kill again if pressed. That, alone, was breaking her peaceful heart; the one she felt her mother had left her within the power of the phoenix tapestry, which to Romia was the symbol of peace and power over self. Her mind wandered now while sitting at her mother's gravesite. She'd been there for hours at the cemetery.

Why did that man call me Phoenix? What did he mean? How did he know about the tapestry or the meaning behind it? Did he know? Do I even know?

Tonight she would turn herself in to Maxwell Huntington. She would give up the quest for understanding. Maybe while behind bars the powers that be would get to the bottom of the mystery that shrouded her life right now. Or maybe she would just fade away into invisibility, the way she believed she was headed right now.

“How could I have seen a dead man?” she asked her mother's headstone. “Was that a symbol? No. He had my jacket.” She shook her head. “I don't understand any of this.”

She touched the cool concrete of the tombstone. She again thought about her mother's beauty. Her voice. Her smile. Romia felt her eyes burn but fought the tears back by sucking in a chest full of air.

“Who is my father?” she asked out of the blue. It was a question she'd never pondered before. “I need him right now,” she added.

Perhaps it was Maxwell Huntington that spurred on her inquiry. He was so intimidating and forceful. She felt the need to give in to his demands. It was the way she always felt a father would make her feel: compliant. She sure would have preferred a father over Maxwell, however. She knew that even without meeting her father.

“Because I don't trust Maxwell,” she told her mother's memory. “I don't trust anyone, really,” she mumbled, rising to her feet. “But if you told me to trust my father, I'd find him and I'd trust him. I know you want me to trust Keliegh and I do.”

Chapter 20

Reaching his apartment, Keliegh was done looking for Romia. He had no real idea of where to start. He'd watched her apartment for hours. “As if she'd be dumb enough to go back there. I know that about her. I know she wouldn't do that. I know…” He realized after a second longer pause that he didn't know that much about her. “How am I supposed to know who she killed without knowing anything about her?” And there was no way of knowing who was killed at The Spot besides Mike, not without having his uncle break a million rules and jeopardizing his career.

Romia's situation had his head hurting. He was too filled with pride to admit his heart hurt as well.

He wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her. Peeking out his window, he noticed the unmarked car. He'd given the guy a run for his money all day, following him since the moment he'd left that morning. Keliegh paced his apartment like a caged animal. He'd put in a call to Tommy and was waiting for her to get back to him.

Glancing over at his cell phone that sat on his kitchen counter, he noticed thirteen earlier missed calls. Most of the calls were from Tommy. Checking his phone for the messages, he saw that there were only three from Shashoni. He figured Tommy would not have left a voice mail. He noticed one call from an unknown number. He pondered the unknown call that had come in earlier, wondering if it was from Romia. He wondered how he'd missed that call. “Too much focus on saving her, I end up missing a chance to talk to her—shit!” he blurted, tossing his cell phone onto the sofa. He missed her.

I missed the opportunity to sleep with her…What a thought at a time like this
, he realized, feeling his body reacting instantly to the thought of Romia under better circumstances. Her uncommon smile. Her rare laughter. The opportunity to make her his…

He missed that the most.

“Aw, Romia, why'd you run?” he asked aloud. His mind was too cluttered with too many thoughts.

Deciding to wash his troubles down the drain, he headed down the hall toward the bathroom. Stripping down, he stepped into the shower, sudsing up and washing down, dipping his head under the water flow, before shampooing his woolly mess. The water was hot and the bathroom steamy. “Why did you kill Mike? What's happening to you? Why did you run?” he asked. He leaned into the wall of the stall, feeling the water against his back.

“Because I had to run,” Romia said then, startling him. He threw open the shower door without thinking.

“How long have you been standing there?” Keliegh asked before snatching his towel from the bar and wrapping it around himself.

“Long enough to know you doubt me,” she said.

He stepped completely from the shower now. “I would never doubt you. How long have you been standing there?” It was obvious she'd been watching him shower. The glass was marbled, but she could see his body. He wondered now for a moment if perhaps tonight they would find comfort in each other's arms. But Romia said nothing. It was as if seeing him naked had not even affected her as a woman. “Why'd you come here if you think I'm not your friend?”

She looked around nervously and then back at him. “I'm tired,” she admitted. “And—”

“And you're scared?” He wrapped a towel around his middle.

“No,” she answered quickly.

She was lying. Keliegh could see it in her eyes, but didn't push it. She looked tired and dirty. He fanned his hand toward the running water. “You wanna? I mean, you might as well, just in case someone is listening from outside to the water running. I mean, I'm normally in there a lot longer.”

“They're still out there watching you, I see, well, at least one car,” Romia said, sounding serious as usual. All business, that was Romia. “They probably followed you all day. Not sure if you were gone long enough for them to bug this place but they coulda…Nah, they woulda been in here by now if they had bugged you,” she rambled, sounding suspicious and disjointed.

“But then again, that's if they are even cops. I have to wonder, ya know.” She'd stepped out to the hall suspiciously before moving back into the bathroom. She pulled off her jacket and hoodie underneath. Keliegh moved out of her way while she began to undress. He noticed her torn hoodie and the nick on her arm. “Things are coming together in my head. I was at the church and some crazy stuff ran through my head—”

“Do you need me to, um,” Keliegh stammered, pointing toward the hallway, fighting his erection as she slid down the strap of her bra.

“You can turn around,” she answered, still holding a straight face.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, turning his back to her while she got naked. He knew she was naked because he could see her from the corner of his eye in the mirror over the sink. He tried not to watch, but he couldn't help it. She was so beautiful—her Mediterranean coloring. The way her dark hair fell between her shoulder blades nearly drove him over the edge. Her small waist and long legs…

Former partner or not, Romia was still a woman and he was still a man and tonight she was all woman and more. She showered quickly, sudsing up and rinsing off, copying him by dipping her head under the water flow as well. She didn't shampoo her hair, however, but simply rinsed it. He watched her through the mirror's reflection. She then shut the water off.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed his robe off the back of the door and reaching backward handed it to her.

“You can turn around now,” she said before her eyes glanced downward. Finally, as if just noticing his erection tenting the towel, she blushed slightly. She quickly picked up her clothing, walking past him into the dark hallway.

Keliegh couldn't keep the embarrassment and naughty grin from flashing across his face. “Sorry about that. Hey.”

She turned to him before heading into his bedroom.

“How do you get in here?” he asked, impressed again with her talents of getting in and out of his apartment unnoticed. He clicked off his bedroom light and peeked out the curtain to see who he might see staking out his place. The area looked clear and the streetlight shone through the slats of the blinds helping him to see Romia fairly easily in the room.

“I don't know. I just…walked in,” she answered. “I've always been good at it. People see what they expect to see. They are out there waiting to see me, yet when they do, they don't. Get me? It's just too obvious for their brains to comprehend. I asked my sensei about it and he told me I had a gift for the optical illusion.”

“Well, you're damn good,” he admitted before turning back to her. She was sitting on his bed now, untangling her under-garments from her clothing. Again an erection formed. She didn't seem to notice this time. Keliegh couldn't control his feelings tonight, but he knew he'd have to get a grip. He had questions that needed answers. Turning from her, he pulled on his sweats, dropping the towel to the floor and adjusting himself the best way he could.

“Hey, aren't you gonna ask me how I got my helmet and jacket back?” she said, pointing to the helmet that lay on the floor by his bedroom door, showing that she'd been in his room. He could only figure she'd gotten there before him, perhaps arriving earlier that evening.

“I didn't know you didn't have it.”

“Yeah, the Shadow took it,” she said.

Her words sounded sincere, yet Keliegh flinched at the content of them. “Shadow?”

“Yeah, I told you last night; dude was waiting for me when I came from The Spot. He was behind the bar by my bike, we tussled, he popped my chops, and then I heard the scream. Oh, yeah, another thing, I never heard the shot. Did anyone even hear a flippin' shot?”

“Aston apparently said he did.”

“He's a damn liar then,” Romia cursed, catching Keliegh off guard. “Because there was no shot. There was no way that dude was shot!”

“What? Romia, now come on, I was there too, baby. I saw the body. He was shot. He was bloody.”

“No.” Romia fanned her hand over her belongings. “I saw him today. He gave me back my jacket. Somebody that night took my bike and my jacket and the Shadow took my helmet and, well, look, I've got it all back! So it wasn't the cops, and, oh, yeah, did anybody get my piece? Was it checked for powder? Check it for powder…well, on second thought, somebody's probably fired it by now, considering all this is just a damn setup.” She cursed on, sounding less and less like the Romia he knew. “If my piece even makes it to evidence.”

Keliegh was worried now. Was Romia really losing it? Could she be as crazy as they said? When she fled the night before, she had on her jacket and her helmet, and was on her bike. When had she lost those things and regained them? And of course her gun was in evidence. Maxwell Huntington had it that night during the interrogation. “Romia, when's the last time you slept?”

“I got in about three hours at Tommy's.”

“Your place is trashed. Did you do that?”

“Why would I do that? When would I do that?” she asked.

“Dunno. Maybe you were looking for something.”

Her eyes were wide. He could see that, even in the dimly lit room.

“Why would I trash my place looking for something?” Romia asked. “Them jokers that followed me to The Spot musta done it. You are not listening. I said I saw the guy everybody thinks I shot. I'm debating meeting with the IA guy. I mean, this is big.” She spoke excitedly, although in a quiet voice. “Keliegh, it was those dudes at The Spot. They killed Mike and I killed them for killing Mike. They had accents.”

Keliegh put caution to the wind now and walked over to where Romia was sitting. He put his hands on her shoulders firmly. “Romia, baby, you're not making sense. You're in trouble and I wanna help you, but you gotta make sense.”

She pushed his hands off as if dusting her shoulders. “Listen to me, I know what I saw! Today I saw him and that chick who was screaming. He had blood on his shirt and she had on the same dress and everything. I tried to get up the hill to talk to him but I couldn't catch them because they split on a bike. I think it was a Harley but…” She sounded manic now. “But he left my jacket and check this out. I went to the church to eat and guess what I saw on the ceiling.” She began looking through her clothing for the tapestry. Thats right, it was gone. “I can't find it, but it was on the ceiling of the church. Why would there be pictures of a phoenix on the ceiling of a church, for goodness sake. It must mean something. I mean, I was drawn there and I remember my mother taking me there as a child and it must mean something.” She rambled on, still looking for the tapestry, not accepting that she'd lost it.

Keliegh squatted down in front of her. He wanted to hold her. He knew she needed to be held but he didn't dare. He just rested his hands on her bare thighs, wanting to explore higher. He wanted to be inside her right now. Not for the orgasm, but for the peace. He wanted to give her peace and calm. She needed it.

“Something weird is happening to me…”

Just then, his cell phone rang. He looked in the direction of the phone and then back at her. She nodded. He stood and left the room to answer it.

“What's up?” he asked.

It was Tommy. “Don't know where to start.”

“Start? Start at the start.”

“To start, Romia killed a buncha people today!

“Yeah,” Keliegh said in nearly a whisper.

“Yeah, that and uh…you're not suspended.”

“What the hell?”

“That's what I said. Just heard Captain ranting and raving around here about you not calling in.”

“That's bull. I'm calling the captain myself. They told me I was suspended.”

“They who?”

“That Maxwell cat, I told you that! Better yet, I'm on my way in,” Keliegh said, reaching for a shirt that hung on the back of a dinette chair. “I'ma bring—”

“No, now wait; you say this cat, Maxwell What's-His-Name told you that you were suspended?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, nobody knows who that
cat
is. IA is headed up by some dude named Roberson. I checked that, too.”

“Okay, but what about the shooting last night at The Spot? Where is the body?”

“Nobody seems to know about that, either.”

“What about Hank and Aston?”

“I never did see Aston. Aston never did show up and now, poof, can't get my hands on Hank either. No reports. Nothing happened, and I can't find Aston or Hank to confirm anything.”

“Okay, so you're trying to tell me that this is some big hoax or gag? What about today? Mike…I just went out there to The Spot. Mike's dead!”

“Oh, he's dead all right. I got that verified for sure. Now that news is all over the joint—with Romia's name in the same sentence.”

“Yeah, but Rome said—”

“You've spoken to her?”

By then Keliegh had walked back into his bedroom to let Romia know he was talking to Tommy and that they were both prepared to help her. But she was gone. There wasn't a trace of her. There was just an opened window. “Shit!” He stomped his foot in frustration looking around, under the bed, in the closet. “No,” Keliegh lied, sounding instantly deflated.

“Where is she, Keli?”

“She didn't do it,” was all he could say.

“She was in my place last night,” Tommy said.

“Yeah, so?”

“So! I went home and guess what? My place was trashed, tossed, and otherwise destroyed.”

“What were they looking for?”

“Who is they? It was her. She's nuts, Kel. Maybe she was just pissed at me for interrupting your little shower thing. Just like she killed Mike for giving her the wrong drink. I heard about it…”

“Come on, Tommy, she's not shallow like that and there was no shower thing. Besides, her place was trashed too.”

“Maybe she trashed her own place and then mine. The cushions were ripped to shreds as if someone took a knife to them. It was like a crazy maniac jealous bitch took a knife to them. Look, she could really be nuts.”

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