by Nova Rain
Stop daydreaming, Monica. It’s never going to happen.
A tear toppled over the edge of my eye at that thought. Even if by some miracle I got out of this marriage, I had no idea when that would be. Sean didn’t have to wait for me. By the time I was granted my freedom, he would probably have started a family with someone else.
The last notes of the ballad were fading into nothingness, when a knock on my door brought me back to reality.
“Come in,” I muttered, holding back a sob.
“Good morning, madam.” I recognized the butler’s British accent. “Mr. Chris Davidson has just arrived.”
“I’ll be right down.” I dismissed him with a nod.
I thought today couldn’t get any worse; boy, was I wrong. Chris Davidson’s visits weren’t rare, but the reasons behind those visits were never good. In essence, he was his brother’s messenger, bringing me news of fundraisers and all sorts of boring occasions. After he was done with the briefing, he always finished his little speeches with the same, stupid request:
“Wear something appropriate as the wife of a Congressman.”
No, you idiot. I’ll go out in a denim skirt and a low-cut top, just to annoy you. God, I wished I had actually done that just once…
I threw on my robe, wondering what he wanted this time. But, as I left my bedroom behind, I discovered that he wasn’t alone. There was a sweet voice in the air, a voice that made my heart dance with joy.
“Where’s mommy?”
His question to Albert confirmed it. There he was; standing between the two men, red curls surrounding his pretty face. I hopped over the steps, grinning from ear to ear. The moment our eyes met, Timmy sped off towards the staircase. I jumped off the bottom step, landing on my knees. His small body crashed into mine, his head bumping onto my chest.
“Mommy!” He cheered as his arms went around my neck.
“I’ve missed you, sweetie,” I whispered, getting back on my feet.
“That’s funny,” Chris remarked with a smirk. “I hear you’ve been preoccupied with other things lately.”
“Timmy…” I murmured, easing my boy down. “Go upstairs, please. We grownups have to talk about something.”
“But I just got here!” he complained, staring up at me with his sad, brown eyes. “Can’t we play first?”
“I’m sorry, honey,” I made my voice sound sweeter. “Look, I won’t be long, okay?”
“Okay,” Timmy said, and then walked past me. For the few seconds it took him to reach the bedroom, I gauged Chris’s expression. As usual, it was stiff, and he was shaking his head in disapproval. It didn’t take an Einstein to guess what he wanted to say to me. His words had made it pretty clear.
“I thought I should show you this before we begin,” Chris declared, holding out his cell phone, the screen facing me. A feeling of surprise raced through me, the moment I looked at the picture. It showed Carl’s badly battered face. He had a large band aid over his left cheekbone, a smaller cut an inch below it and a bruised right eye. “This is what happened to your husband’s bodyguard when he tried to talk some sense into your lover.”
“Sense?” I squinted up at him, my surprise turning into anger. “Carl is a meathead. He’s Robert’s muscle, and you’re expecting me to believe he tried to talk sense into someone? Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“My brother and I had every intention of making this work, Ms. Townsend,” Chris continued, his businesslike tone raising suspicion within me. “We tolerated your racing, your late nights out, but this is just too much.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, tension tightening the back of my neck.
“We have decided to send Timmy to a boarding school in Switzerland.” His announcement froze the blood in my veins. “We would’ve handled this more discreetly if you hadn’t told him you’re his mother, but now, it seems like the proper punishment for your antics. You won’t see him again until we feel you’ve been punished enough.”
“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” I growled, leaping forward. “I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Don’t touch me, you whore!” he shouted, slapping my hands away. “You should have thought about that before you fucked your precious little doctor. And don’t get any ideas about stealing Timmy. We’ve got the whole mansion surrounded by security. His flight is leaving tomorrow morning. I suggest you make the best of the time you have left with him.”
Finishing his sentence, he turned in the direction of the front door as my world came crashing down around me. I was just hours away from losing the one person that had kept me going: my own flesh and blood. Only God knew when I would hold him in my arms again after that day. Still, I wasn’t going down without a fight. If those two thought they would take him from me, they had another thing coming.
Chapter Sixteen
Sean
“We’re going to a strip club as soon as we get off. You need to get over her.”
Ryan had been suggesting this since the beginning of our shift that afternoon. We were looking into cases of food poisoning, appendicitis, and car accident injuries, but, every time we treated our patients, he mouthed to me these two words:
“Strip club.”
He gave me his excuse long before the first emergency of that day.
“You look like shit.”
That was a big surprise. I was still getting used to the idea of my separation with Monica. Whenever we passed by his office, I recalled the night when I found her in my BMW. He was describing the nature of a patient’s fractures, and I remembered the x-ray of her forearm. That slender bone structure, those long fingers, that badass attitude… In truth, I was glad we hadn’t faced anything too serious. I doubted I‘d have been able to focus and do my job in a professional manner.
Seven hours later into my shift, I was prescribing Ajovy®, a brand-new, injectable treatment for migraines to Linda Mason, one of my middle-aged patients. The poor woman was fifty-six years old, and she had been suffering from the throbbing debilitating headaches for well over two decades.
“One time every month,” I advised. “It’s expensive, but it works. In case it doesn’t, we’ll discuss something more aggressive.”
“You are a lifesaver, Dr. Granger,” she said and flashed me a smile of gratitude, taking the prescription into her hand. “Thank you very much.”
“Ahem…” The sound of someone clearing her throat caught my attention. A mere glance out into the hallway revealed her identity. It hadn’t been long since she had been in the ER. Her whiskey hair was still fresh in my memory. The woman next to her had even more distinctive hair. It was sticking out to either side, just inches from her friend’s head. What was Jessica…
“Have a good night, Mrs. Mason,” I responded and walked my patient out of the door, wondering what in the world those two wanted from me. When I stopped just behind the doorframe though, neither of them would speak. They glanced at each other and then me, without uttering a single word.
“Come on in,” I urged, stepping backwards. At last, I got some response from them. Jessica padded in, and her friend followed suit right after her. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms. Ross?”
“I like sarcasm, but now is not the time,” Panic apparently sped up Jessica’s voice. “Our girl is in trouble. This morning, Timmy’s legal guardian told her he’s sending him to a boarding school in Switzerland because of her little affair with you. The kid is leaving tomorrow.”
“Ah, damn…” I huffed, banging my hand against my forehead.
“It gets worse,” Kate pointed out. “He said she won’t see him again for a while as a punishment for getting involved with you.”
“Nothing’s stopping them from making Timmy disappear,” Jessica continued, her intense stare attesting to her anxiety. “Hell, it could take years for Monica to see him again. That’s all up to them.”
“She might never see him again,” I presumed, scratching my jaw.
“Right,” Jessica nodded in agreement.
“She’s thought of something…” she paused, “...radical. Timmy’s in the mansion with her right now. She wants to break out of there, but there are security guards all over the place.”
“She wants to kidnap him,” I corrected her, understanding where this was going.
“Actually, ‘kidnap,’ is a little strong,” Jessica growled, glaring up at me, while anger deepened her tone. “This is her child we’re talking about here.”
“I’m afraid a judge wouldn’t see it that way,” I spoke my mind, my eyes on hers. “She’s his mother, yes, but she doesn’t have custody.”
“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit,” Kate suggested, leaning forward. “You’re right. Technically, this is kidnapping. But if you remember who Monica is and what she’s been through, you’ll know it’s the right call.”
“Kate, I want to help, I really do,” I stated, assuming an emphatic tone. “Let’s say we break Monica and Timmy out of there. Then what? What is she going to do about the child’s custody? Get into a legal battle with one of the most powerful men in the State? How do you think that’s going to go?”
“We need leverage,” Jessica concluded, her voice losing its nerve.
“Exactly!” I stated giving an emphatic nod. “Right now, it’s just Monica’s word against the word of a Congressman.”
“Right now, my best friend is crying her eyes out, because her son is going to be ripped from her life,” Kate interjected. “She’s never needed you more. The question is: do you have the guts to help her?”
Her question put me in a difficult position. She did have a point. I might have assisted Monica on a few occasions, but none of them compared to her current predicament. This was her darkest hour. And if I turned my back on her now, I knew she wouldn’t give me another chance. Why should she take back the man who had refused to lend a helping hand in this dire situation? She would think of me as a coward, an idiot who got scared in the face of adversity.
“All right,” I tipped my head down once. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”
“Great,” Jessica chirped. “We’re still working on that. You’ve been there, so, I’m guessing you’re familiar with the layout of the estate.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “What are you guys thinking?”
“At first, we considered skimpy outfits and lots of cleavage,” Kate responded, her voice dropping an octave. “We’d draw away the security guards’ attention, and you’d swoop in and steal Monica and Timmy from under their noses. But then, we remembered this is Sands Point. What are the chances of a couple of slutty girls roaming the village’s streets?”
“Also, you two wouldn’t suffice,” I surmised, sharing my opinion with them, and maintaining the calmness in my tone. “You said the mansion is surrounded. I believe we need a diversion.”
“Keep talking,” Jessica uttered, the corners of her eyes tightening.
“Your cars are equipped with nitrous oxide, aren’t they?” I posed the question, a calculating smile bursting upon my lips.
“Yeah,” Kate nodded. “Why?”
“Well, I hate to say it, but, tonight, one of you will have to sacrifice her vehicle. I’m thinking of using it as a bomb,” I revealed, my tone stiffening.
“Use my Supra,” Jessica suggested, her eyes glinting with excitement. “I love that baby, but I love Monica even more. What do you have in mind exactly?”
“A broomstick, an empty road, and a nitrous oxide leak,” I went on. “Use the broomstick to jam the accelerator. I’m sure you can do that.”
“Piece of cake,” Jessica said with a smile. “I’ll wedge it in between the seat and the steering wheel, put it in gear, and…”
“Physics and chemistry will do the rest,” I completed her sentence. “We still have a problem, though.”
“What’s that?”
“The getaway vehicle,” I responded quickly. “We need something with tougher bodywork than my BMW’s.”
“I can borrow my cousin Lenny’s van,” Kate said, her eyes widening with mischief. “He put a Corvette engine in it last month.”
“You’re willing to base this operation on a van someone built in a shed?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“First of all, he didn’t build it in a shed,” Kate groaned. “Lenny happens to run the most state-of-the-art auto shop in New York City. I drove that thing a couple of weeks ago. It goes faster than greased lightning.”
“Good,” I praised, shifting my gaze over to Jessica. “Now, let’s address our last issue. Monica’s bedroom is in the back of the mansion. It overlooks Dawson Street, so, it’s more easily accessible from there. Furthermore, charging in from FDR is way too dangerous, since all the security will be gathered there. How do you suggest we pick you up?”
“I’ll join you guys after I’ve…” Jessica faltered. “God, I can’t even bring myself to say this.” She sighed; “after I’ve sent my Supra to car heaven.”
“I get off in less than an hour,” I informed them. “Go get that van and come pick me up.”
“She’ll never forget this,” Kate stated in a mellow tone. “I know I wouldn’t.”
I left them in my office with a smile, glad that I had earned their respect. Just like Monica, her friends didn’t trust easily. In a few hours, I hoped that we would succeed in this daring operation. In case we didn’t, my gorgeous redhead would have to endure the gut-wrenching pain of losing her child. More than that, we wouldn’t get back together because she would be too devastated even to consider her personal life. To me, this was the strongest possible motivation.
Chapter Seventeen
Sean
The atmosphere in the black Ford Transit was so thick that I could cut it with a scalpel. Neither Kate nor I could utter a word. Every few minutes, I would puff air out of my cheeks, feeling my heart getting ready to burst right out of my chest. This was by far the most dangerous thing I had ever dared to do. I could find some comfort in the fact that I had two skilled drivers on my side, but Kate and Jessica were still human. Either of them could make a mistake; that would destroy the entire operation.
I had no idea what was going on in Kate’s head, but judging by her stiff expression, she was just as anxious as I was. Despite my tension, their visit to my office proved to me something crucial: Monica’s friends were loyal to her. They loved her so much that they would do everything in their power to assist her. That included putting their lives on the line. Honestly? I had not seen that coming. I had believed that “street” people would only look out for themselves. I thought it was “dog eat dog” out there. Yet, I was mistaken. This trio was bound by a lot more than just the thrill of racing and money. There was actual love between them.
Forty minutes after midnight, Kate turned the van right and onto Dawson Street. I rolled down my window and let the cold air in as she switched off the headlights. Second by second, the vehicle moved past estates and light poles alike, my ears picking up the distant sound of a dog barking. Locating a gap between a silver Volvo and a white Range Rover, Kate turned the wheel right. With the Transit coming to a gentle halt, she focused her attention on the two, black vans outside Monica’s house. Four men in gray uniforms were pacing up and down the sidewalk, going over their own footsteps.
“Here we go…” Kate whispered, reaching for her cell phone. Calling Jessica, she put it on speaker. “Jess, we’re in position.”
“I just removed the nitrous valve,” Jessica said, her voice riddled with tension. In a split second, the noise of an engine revving came through the line. “I’m sorry, baby.” The click of the handbrake button being released and a door being slammed shut followed, sending my adrenaline into the ozone layer. Leaning forward, I looked to my left, hearing the grumble of the Supra’s engine shatter the silence. By then, it had cleared the first estate, the second one blocking my view. It sped past that one as well, the downhill road helping it accelerate even faster. Fire was shooting out of its exhaust pipes as it streaked along the road. Its lowered body roared past a black Mercede
s, heading for its own doom.
“Watch out!” A cry of anguish pierced my ears a moment before the Supra disappeared from view. In the blink of an eye, it crashed into one of the security vans on FDR Drive, the deafening bang resounding throughout the neighborhood. The sound of metal getting bent and twisted was the signal Kate had been waiting for. She turned to me for an instant and gripped the gearstick as a massive fireball shot up into the air. The mushroom cloud rose above the roof of Monica’s mansion, the fire disappearing into a black plume of smoke. To my liking, the commotion seized the attention of the security guards. All four of them sped off up the backyard, their gazes on FDR Drive.
“I hope you’re ready,” Kate murmured, driving off. I grabbed the door handle, the smell of burned metal and gasoline reaching my nostrils. After a quick surge towards our destination, Monica’s friend let go of the gearstick and gripped the handbrake. Its tires squealing, the Transit kicked its tail out, just three yards from the picket fence. I jumped outside, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I could hear the security guards shouting at each other. Amid quite a few slurs, a single phrase stood out.
“Call 911.”
If anything, it made me run even faster. Looking up, I spotted Monica. She was standing behind her open window, with little Timmy in her embrace, his back to me. Without a doubt, this posed a problem. Her window was at least fifteen feet from the ground. I was strong, yes, but if they jumped off together, I wouldn’t be able to support their weight.
“Come on,” I urged Monica, shortening my strides. Just then, I realized that height wasn’t the only problem. Timmy was clinging to his mother. Standing almost directly under the window, I could hear his soft weeping.
“I’m scared,” the boy sobbed, his small arms tied around Monica’s neck.
