Chapter Twenty-six

RUE

T he picnic is magical. Jameson remains by my side the whole time, keeping me entertained and stuffed with food, insisting on feeding me much of it himself. After the initial awkwardness, I find his attentiveness sweet.

I bask in his attention, feeling special for the first time in my life.

Even Hicks isn't a dick, though I suspect it took an effort to curb himself for my benefit.

I could easily lose my heart to these guys. I refuse to look at my emotions too closely, just wanting to enjoy myself without overanalyzing and second-guessing everything.

Jameson digs into the basket—yes, an honest-to-goodness picnic basket—and pulls out a bag of…corn, seeds, grains, oats, and vegetables?

I crinkle my nose and lean back. "I'll let you guys enjoy that. I'm stuffed."

Everyone glances in my direction, then blinks as if I spoke a foreign language. Jameson breaks first, sputtering on his laughter as he launches to his feet. "Not for us, sweetums. It's to feed the birds. Come," he demands, holding out his free hand for me and wiggling his fingers impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as if it's hard for him to remain still for a second.

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I grab his hand, then yelp when he tugs me to my feet so hard that I go flying. I land with a soft oomph against his chest, and his arms wraps around my waist. He grins down at me brightly, wiggling his eyebrows as he hugs me. "I knew you couldn't get enough of me, but we're in public, pookie. Save the sexy stuff for when we're in private."

A blush heats my cheeks, but I laugh up at him and roll my eyes.

"Aw, who am I kidding, sugarplum? You can claim me whenever and wherever you want." He kisses me on the nose, then he takes off for the pond, leaving me no choice but to keep up with him or be dragged.

"Yeah, sure, we'll clean up your mess," Hicks mutters behind us, and I turn to see him and Ellis already cleaning up the leftovers.

Feeling bad, I try to pull away, but Jameson snorts, having none of it. "Don't let them fool you. They would do it anyway. They don't like the way I clean up."

I can tell he's honestly baffled why they don't appreciate his assistance. I can only imagine the chaos and mess involved when he tries to help . I catch up to him, hugging his arm close to my chest, both to keep him from wandering off and because I enjoy having him near.

"Or maybe they are just giving us time alone since the picnic was your idea," I say soothingly, then wink up at him. "Now what did you want to show me?"

"The world," he murmurs, staring down at me so intently that my heart lurches at his earnestness, and the rest of the world drops away. He smiles, his grin just a little too excited. "We'll start with the ducks and geese."

Full of trepidation, I allow him to drag me closer to the large pond. When we reach the edge of the grass, I dig in my feet, not wanting to get closer to the lake, the large expanse of water more intimidating as the waves lap at the shore.

"You don't like water?" Jameson immediately stops, his gaze full of concern.

I shrug, biting my lip before admitting the truth. "I don't know how to swim."

I didn't dare get anywhere near water for fear that my father would drown me, but I don't say that to him. He's too protective and impulsive, and wouldn't hesitate to go after the man. That's the last thing I want. My father would destroy them in a heartbeat, the bastard's mission in life to make me miserable.

Jameson's pale blue eyes sharpen, the white in them brightening, giving them a stormy sea appearance. He brushes his fingers against my cheek, then boops me on the nose. "Then I'll give you lessons."

When he takes a step toward me, I instantly step back in response, lifting my hands to ward him off. "Not here. Not now."

Jameson pauses for a second, his head tipped to the side as he contemplates my demand, and I hastily scramble for excuses. "I don't want everyone to see me in wet clothes."

That earns me a scowl, and he nods briskly. "You're right—that's a sight only for me and the guys."

I sag in relief that I was able to successfully distract him. Something about the water feels menacing, warning a person to stay away or risk being dragged down into the dark, murky depths. No, if he wants to teach me, then he could do it like a civilized person.

In a pool.

Where I can see the bottom.

We walk along the shore, and I realize that Jameson is trying to sneak up on a large flock of birds. Not wanting to get caught up in his shenanigans, I fall back and thank the goddess for my forethought. A second later, Jameson tips his head back and releases a god-awful yodel, shaking his bag of bird feed a second later.

I thought the birds would run away, but the opposite is true.

As one, thirty birds lift their heads and turn toward him in unison, and I hastily put more distance between us. "Uh, Jameson, maybe don't antagonize the birds?"

"What fun would that be?" He shoots me a smirk over his shoulder, then he scowls and takes a step toward me. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

The birds, seeing that their next meal is leaving, take that moment to charge.

That's the only word for it.

Jameson must see the way my eyes widen, because he looks behind him. With a curse, he takes off at a dead run, swearing at the top of his lungs as the birds give chase, nipping at him even as he flings the bird food over his head.

For all of a second, I'm speechless at the spectacle, then uncontrollable laughter consumes me, leaving me gasping for air. On his third pass by me, he shouts in outrage. "You think this is funny? Here!"

He tosses the bird food at me, and I automatically reach out to catch it.

I squeak in alarm when half the birds head toward me. Before I can run, Ellis is behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist to keep me in place. "Don't run or they will chase you. Just grab some of the seed and toss it around on the ground. They'll eat when they realize you're not trying to take their food."

I do as instructed, planting my feet to resist the urge to flee, and he's right.

As soon as the food hits the ground, the birds swarm around to eat. The birds are massive, much larger than what I was expecting, and I watch them in awe. Five minutes later, a breathless Jameson joins us, maintaining a safe distance. He's rubbing his ass and legs, scowling menacingly at the geese.

When he catches me looking at him in concern, he purses his lips and mutters, "Table food shouldn't bite back." He crosses his arms and looks away. "That's all I'm saying."

Laughter bubbles out of me, and I clear my throat, covering it with a cough when he narrows his eyes in my direction. "Uh…yes…I completely agree," I say, choking back my laughter.

His bad mood melts, and he drops his arms and smiles at me. Tossing the remaining food on the ground, I head toward him, careful not to kick one of the birds and provoke the vengeful fuckers. "You okay?"

I feel bad for laughing at him, but only a smidge.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, looping his arms around my waist. "You can kiss my valiant wounds better later."

I snort at his offer and shake my head. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want me to kiss your ass."

Humor cracks his stern expression, and his bad mood forgotten. "Challenge accepted."

I mentally groan, wondering what kind of mischief he's going to get us into next.

"Come," Ellis interrupts, and I pull away from Jameson to glance at him. "Hicks has a surprise for us."

"A surprise?" My stomach does a funny swoop, and I grimace. "I'm not a fan of surprises."

In the past, surprises were never good.

They usually ended up with me being beaten within an inch of my life.

Not wanting to let my past intrude on the nice day, I square my shoulders and take a deep breath. "Okay, let's do it."

Both men exchange a look, then come to stand on either side of me as we make our way to the docks, each silently offering me their moral support. Ellis bumps my arm lightly with his shoulder. "If you don't like the surprise, you can just tell us."

Despite Ellis being quiet, Jameson easily hears and leans over to glare at Ellis. "If Hicks does something stupid to upset my pookie, I'm going to hurt him."

It's both a threat and a promise, and I flick him right between the eyes. "That's not for you to decide. If I have a problem with Hicks, I will deal with it. Not you. Understand?"

He rubs his forehead with a mulish expression on his face, but I refuse to budge until he gives a begrudging nod.

"Good. Now let's go find Hicks."

I try to put as much enthusiasm into my words as possible to cover my trepidation. Hicks isn't my biggest fan, so I'm not looking forward to seeing what he has planned. As we approach the docks at the corner of the lake, my eyes widen when I see a vendor renting out row boats.

Hicks has claimed one of the bigger boats with four oars, and my steps automatically slow, dread building in my gut as I glance over the smooth surface of the lake.

Sensing my unease, Jameson leans down and whispers, "I won't let anything happen to you. I don't want you to miss out on living because you're afraid. If you fall in, I'll jump in after you. Promise."

I suspect he's talking about more than just a boat ride, and the backs of my eyes burn at his sincerity.

Though it's dangerous, I desperately want what he's offering.

A friend.

A confidant.

A partner in crime.

A person to call when I'm in trouble, or someone who would join me in mischief-making.

I soak up his affections like a sponge, the attention addicting after a lifetime of loneliness. I reach out and squeeze his arm, not sure that I'll ever be able to let him go now. As if he understands, he tucks my hand into the crook of his arm.

Ellis peers at us from my other side, his eyebrows rising, but he wisely doesn't comment. "The lake is shallow. It's chest height almost everywhere. Only the very center is deep. We can make sure we stay along the shore."

I swallow a lump in my throat at their thoughtfulness, wondering what I did in my life to deserve such sweet men. I smile at them both gratefully. "Thank you."

Apparently, climbing onto a small boat takes a talent I do not possess. After nearly capsizing us more than once before I find my seat, I'm terrified to even sneeze and send us rocking again.

Of course, none of the guys have any such problem. They step on the fucking boat, and it doesn't even bobble.

What the fuck?

I'm convinced it must be a guy thing, and I scowl at them in annoyance.

Hicks takes two of the oars, while Jameson and Ellis each take one. I desperately clutch the sides of the boat as we shoot across the water. Much to my shock, it's almost soothing to skim over the surface. After a few minutes, I reluctantly release the sides and just enjoy the ride. As much as I don't want to admit it, being out on the water is nice.

Jameson is on his best behavior, watching me obsessively without any shenanigans for once, and I'm grateful. As the guys talk amongst themselves, allowing me to adjust to the rocking of the boat, I carefully lean over the side and watch the water slide past almost hypnotically.

The peace lasts only a few seconds before the surface ripples ominously.

The silvery light from the sun vanishes, turning the water into a murky soup, and I squint when a vague shape of a woman appears just below the surface. The longer I stare, the more the image crystallizes. I can't tear my eyes away from the spirit as she slowly takes form and dread pools in my gut.

The woman is in her late thirties, her black hair floating around her like a halo. A white nightgown drifts around her, as if she's enjoying a swim. Usually, spirits avoid lakes, but when a person dies by drowning, a body of water can become their prison.

The spirit is as still as a statue as she floats in the water, almost in suspended animation. As if she sensed my presence, her eyes snap open, and I gulp when pure black orbs stare back at me, the whites of her eyes completely gone.

Pure madness gleams in her gaze, her sanity long gone, and I lurch back like I can hide from her. The boat rocks so violently, I almost tip over the other side. Jameson lunges for me, barely managing to keep me in the boat, and he hugs me to his chest. "Did a fish scare you?"

Hicks snorts, rolling his eyes at me like I'm being a child. As much as I want to go over there and kick him in the balls for being an ass, I remain perfectly still and huddle against Jameson's chest. "I'm not feeling too well. Can we go back?"

The last thing I want to do is tell them the truth, not that they would believe me, but we need to get off the pond before the spirit decides to reach into the boat and drag me into the depths of the water. Since I'm unable to swim, it wouldn't take much for her to kill me.

Hicks searches my face, confusion swirling in his green eyes, but whatever he sees must convince him, because the guys immediately start rowing us back toward the shore.

I peer back into the water, needing to know if the sea hag is following, dreading what I might find. The woman remains below the boat, lingering in the shadows as she keeps pace. When she sees me looking, a frightening smile stretches across her face, more of a baring of teeth than anything pleasant.

She bursts through the surface of the lake and walks across the water, heading directly toward a woman with four crying children. The woman herself seems to be on the verge of tears as she cradles a toddler to her chest.

A pit opens up in my stomach, and I'm unable to avoid the sinking sensation as I realize that the spirit wasn't murdered—she killed herself. She's a La Llorona spirit, a woman who was scorned by a man. She wanders the shores of lakes and rivers, seeking children to keep her company—a family she can keep for an eternity.

Unfortunately, kids make horrible spirits and usually move on to the afterlife almost immediately after death, making the spirit seek out more victims in an endless circle of pain and violence.

Most spirits can't interact with humans, but vengeful spirits are the exception.

With my heart in my throat, I watch as the ghostly creature reaches the shore. Oblivious to her surroundings, she touches the children almost reverently, as if laying claim to them. They scream in terror, able to sense her presence, then the spirit walks right into the mother and vanishes.

"Hurry," I urge the guys, leaning over the boat as if I could reach them faster, but I know it's much too late. Jameson, sensing my urgency, picks his oar up and joins the rest to get us back faster.

The mother stiffens, her body jerky as the spirit takes possession of her. She texts someone on her phone, then rents a boat and immediately starts hauling the struggling children into the small craft.

Dread builds in my chest, my tattered soul ripping apart when I realize she's going to drown the children…unless I stop her.

Just as the woman grabs the oars, I stand…then mentally curse when the boat rocks violently.

The guys yell, clutching the sides, but I don't pay them any attention as I step out of the boat and into open water.

The guys swear wildly, but I don't hear them as my head dunks underwater. Cold water steals the breath from my lungs, and I gasp, inhaling water. Panic tightens my chest as the liquid does its best to smother me, and I quickly scramble for purchase.

Thankfully, Ellis was right, and my feet find the muddy bottom. After two tries, I finally manage to stand, breaking the surface and sputtering for air as I hack out what feels like a gallon of water from my lungs. The water is about waist height, my skirt floating around me, and I desperately spin, swiping my hair out of my face as I search for the spirit.

There!

About a yard away.

The guys shout at me to walk to shore, trying to paddle closer to get to me. I ignore them and wade through the lake, desperate to reach the boat with the children.

Unfortunately, the water is slowing my progress.

I'm not sure if that's normal or if the spirit is trying to slow me down.

Before I can even reach the boat, the woman swings her oar toward me, cracking me across the face so hard that I slip in the mud and sink below the surface again. My ears ring from the blow, and pain radiates from the side of my face and along my neck.

Unfortunately for her, I'm used to dealing with pain.

Water, not so much.

I pop to the surface after some thrashing, spitting out water and hacking. Not once do I take my attention away from my target. The men are cursing up a storm behind me, and I can sense them closing in on me, but I'm not willing to let my target go.

Despite knowing that I'm drawing the wrong kind of attention, I refuse to allow the spirit to kill.

Not when I can stop it.

The woman smiles evilly at me as she begins to row farther out onto the lake.

Jameson, either wanting vengeance or sensing trouble, jumps out after her and grabs hold of the boat.

"Stop that," she snarls, her face twisting with hatred, then she beats his fingers with the oar.

His profanities blister the air, but he doesn't release his hold, giving me time to catch up to them. I lunge toward the boat, reaching for one of the children, intent on getting them to safety.

And completely miss the oar flying toward me.

"Rue!" Ellis shouts in warning.

I have enough time to dive out of the way, but I refuse to give her a chance to escape. Instead, I brace my legs and don't move.

When the oar whacks into my side with a solid thump, I grunt at the impact and grimace when I hear the sound of my ribs cracking. Unwilling to let her go, I grab the oar under my arm and yank, taking her by surprise.

She plunges into the water, which isn't good since she's a water spirit.

There's no way in hell I am getting out of this alive, not unless I can force her to leave her human host. Possession is difficult at the best of times, it often leaves the spirit weak afterwards, but it might be my only chance to survive.

"Get the kids," I yell at the guys, then I throw myself at the woman. We immediately slip under water. The pond is shallow, so we smack the ground hard. Used to pain, I ignore it and wrap my arms and legs around her before she can drag me deeper.

The action no doubt has my underwear flashing for all to see.

So much for the modesty that my mother tried to instill in me with harsh punishments when I failed to live up to her standards.

Vicious pinches to the soft skin of my underarms or sides of my breasts were often my punishment. Another favorite was yanking my hair so hard that bald patches would decorate my scalp. The ones I hated the most was when she made me kneel on rice for hours or force me to drink sour milk. I still can't smell milk without puking.

The woman thrashes, almost breaking free and drowning me in the process. I barely keep my hold on the slippery little sucker. When I gain control, I'm sitting in the water, my head barely above the surface as she struggles to break free from my hold.

"Just let me go. You can't have my children," the spirit snarls, flailing her arms and legs to get at me, not caring that she's half drowning me and her host.

Great.

She's making it sound like I'm trying to steal her children.

If anyone believes her and tries to stop me, I'm going to be helpless to do anything when she inevitably takes the children and kills them.

Ellis is in the boat with the kids, while Jameson is pushing them to shore. Hicks is wading in our direction, the scowl on his face telling me he's pissed. When he looks ready to tear us apart, I wave him away. "Don't get involved. If anyone sees a man wrestling with a woman in public, they'll arrest you and let her go."

Hicks scowls, clearly not happy, but he sees my logic and stays back.

For now.

Distracted, I don't see the fist coming for my face until stars explode behind my eye.

That's going to leave a fucking bruise.

"You're only delaying the inevitable," she hisses, fighting like a wildcat to get free, but I only tighten my arms around her chest, keeping my legs around her waist so she can't throw me off. "As soon as they arrest you, the children will be at my mercy, and there isn't a fucking thing you can do about it."

"Not happening, bitch." Gritting my teeth, I lean down and whisper, "I won't let you have them."

My words must have triggered my abilities. My metal rings heat, burning her skin, and the woman goes rigid in my grip, a howl of anger, pain, and despair tearing free of her.

A wail of police sirens nears, and I mentally curse when they park the car at the shore and rush toward us. The spirit spots them as well, her hold over the woman wavering for a second, but it's enough.

My abilities expel her from the body in an explosion of glittering dust, leaving a confused, sobbing woman in my arms. She's babbling incoherently as she struggles to retake control of her body. From experience, I know it can take a while.

Since she's no longer fighting me, I let the woman go, then grimace when that only makes her cling to me harder, bawling her heart out like it's breaking. I cradle her close, whispering to her softly, "Your children are safe. You're safe. You're going to be okay."

Unfortunately, once you touch the afterlife, your life is never the same again.

The police reach us and haul us none too gently to our feet, but the woman refuses to release her hold on me, not that I blame her. I'm not sure how much she remembers, but she must know enough to realize that I saved her and her children.

The possession wasn't strong enough to take her over completely, just enough to overpower her for a few minutes—enough to kill her children.

The police tear us apart, scowling at us as we're cuffed and shoved into two different patrol cars. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, my entire body feels like one giant bruise. The side of my face is warm but blessedly numb, but not my ribs. Pain radiates from the injury, and I know that means more than one of them is cracked.

I freeze when I see the police approach the guys, and my gut sinks with dread. Jameson is soaking wet, holding two of the youngest kids, the other two kids clutching his legs. Hicks is wet at well, his clothes sticking to him like a second skin.

He has his hand on James' chest, his face inches away as he has a very heated discussion with him, doing his best to keep him from storming after me.

My gaze connects with Jameson's pale blue eyes. Darkness churns in their depths, but the hardness in them, directed at me, hits me like a slap in the face. His emotions are shut down to the point that I barely recognize him, and dread gathers in my gut at his grim expression.

All he saw was me attacking a mom with kids. He must think me a monster.

I was trying to save them, but would he believe that?

He helped…didn't he?

Or was he trying to get them safely away from me?

No, he couldn't believe I would do something so horrible.

Right?

The cheerful man who worked his way into my heart vanished like he never existed, going so cold that a stranger stares back at me, and my heart aches like I lost something precious. I suddenly wonder if Hicks is holding him back, not because he's worried the fool will get arrested for breaking me out of jail, but because he fears for my safety.

With my heart breaking, I barely notice the police officer returning. It's only when we're driving away and the guys disappear from sight that I close my eyes and sag against my seat in defeat.

Jameson managed to do something my father never achieved during all his years of torture—completely destroy me.

I'm not sure how to survive the devastation.