Crossing Boundaries (Miles for Love Book 1)

by Sandra Alex

  Brenda grabs me from behind, and with surprising strength, manages to pull my arms back enough that it hurts. I’m pinned for a moment, until I kick her from behind. When I’m free, I try to run for the stairs, but both of them grab me and bring me back to the couch. Brenda kicks me in the stomach when I’m on the floor, knocking the wind out of me. They tie me up again, blindfold me, and she gives me another kick, before they leave me again, this time for hours.

  Chapter 23

  Daniel

  As I drive back to Kayla’s house, the fear in me has shot from zero to ten. This Greg/Sean guy is bad news. Hoping that Kayla just stepped out, I reach her house and knock on the door again. There is no answer. On a whim, I try the door. Surprisingly, it’s open. As I walk in, I call her name repeatedly. Nobody answers. Her car is in the driveway, and strangely, her phone is sitting on the kitchen counter. Her purse has been emptied out on the countertop, and her wallet is open, all over the place. Taking a quick stock, I see that there are no bank or credit cards here.

  There are two mugs filled with cold coffee on the counter, and two stale bagels on plates. There is warm cream cheese sitting out on the counter. I don’t even try to open her phone; I know I won’t be able to access it to try and call Heather or Nana Mary from her contacts. There is a knock at the door, and I take a step towards it. As I open it, I see a befuddled looking Nana Mary on the other side.

  “Mary, oh, thank God you’re here.”

  “What’s happened to Kayla? I’ve been trying to call her all day.” The concern in her voice is palpable.

  “I know. Me too. I rushed over when she didn’t show up for class, and her door was left unlocked, her purse is all pulled apart, her bank and credit cards are missing.”

  “You have any idea what happened to her?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but, one of our classmates I’ve just discovered is rather corrupt. He’s a con artist. He swindled me out of a bundle of money.”

  Her hands cover her mouth and nose. “You think he has her?” Nana Mary asks, but the question is rhetorical.

  “If he doesn’t, he definitely has something to do with this.”

  “I think we better call the police right away.”

  Just as Mary says this, my phone rings. “It’s him. The guy I was telling you about.”

  I answer the phone and keep the device far enough from my ear that Mary can hear the conversation. “Daniel here.” Mary motions to me that she’s going to call the police from her phone, in the other room.

  “Daniel, buddy.” Greg chuckles as if we’re best friends. “How’s it hangin’?”

  “Greg. Where’s Kayla.” I cut to the chase.

  “Whoaaa…you catch on fast.” He sniffs. “She’s somewhere safe, not to worry. Listen, I’ve got a swift code number to a bank account. I want you to wire me two million dollars in the next two hours, and I’ll make sure that Kayla ends up straight back in your bed.”

  “You think it’s that simple, do you. How do I know you’ll bring Kayla back safe? I can’t trust you as far as I can throw you.” Believe me, given the chance, I’d break this guy’s neck and then throw him into the Niagara River.

  “I’ll bring her back. This isn’t about her.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  “Buddy, at the end of the day, it’s just about the money. I mean, Kayla’s got a tight ass and great tits, but I can get me some tail where I’m going, once I get the money.”

  “How do I know you have Kayla?”

  There is a pause. “Daniel?” a tired-sounding voice comes on the line. My gut clenches, my heart wrenches.

  “Kayla? Are you okay? Has he hurt you?”

  My fist balls up at my side.

  “Daniel. Get me out of here.” She grunts before there is another pause.

  “There? See? I told you I have her.”

  “You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you.” I seethe. I see Nana Mary approach. She finds a note pad in a basket on top of the microwave, and scrawls on it for me to keep him talking. I nod. “You’re not getting a dime out of me if a hair on her head is hurt.”

  “I think she’s got a few busted ribs, man, but that was her fault. She’s a pistol. Oh, speaking of pistols…yeah, I have a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Like hell you will. You’re nothing but a two-bit con artist who has moved to kidnapping. You don’t have a clue what you’re doing other than what you’ve learned from cheesy movies. I bet you don’t even know how to shoot straight.” I write my phone number down on the same note pad and write that I’m going to find her. “When I find you, I’m going to kill you, Greg. So you better keep a good eye on Kayla, because if you’ve touched her or hurt her in any way, I’ll nail your balls to the wall.” I say with so much conviction that a trail of spittle shoots from my mouth.

  “Listen, buddy, I’ve had enough of the trash talk for one day.” Greg guffaws. “You got a pen? I’ll give you this code so you can get me the money and I can be on my way. I’ll drop Kayla somewhere and tell you after I get the money. Capiche?”

  My foot is on the pedal when I switch to Bluetooth, driving the gas pedal down to the floor. “I’m not giving you a fucking penny, asshole.” I say with my teeth ground together. My anger is boiling over. I can’t believe what this guy is trying to get away with. He’ll never get as far as his front doorstep before I kill him. Suddenly an idea springs to mind. “I know your story, man. You’re never going to get away with this.”

  Silence.

  “Yeah, I met Shyla and Tina today. Seems Tina’s not as dumb as you think she is. I tell her you’ve kidnapped Kayla and you can kiss Shyla goodbye for good, asshole.”

  “You’re lying.” Greg laughs. “You didn’t meet them.”

  “You were at Walmart today.” I name off the location. “I saw you there with Tina and Shyla. You’re driving some cheesy-ass black Lincoln that only a Grampa would drive.”

  Silence.

  “I’ve got Tina’s number, man. Shall I dial?”

  “I’ll fucking kill you, Daniel.”

  “Not if I kill you first, dickwad.” I pause, and turn onto the highway, heading to the town where, according to Tina, Greg lives. “The cops have already been called, Greg. The jig is up. You better have my girl waiting at the door, unharmed, or my fist is going to be in your fucking skull.”

  My other line beeps. It’s the police. “Time’s up, Sean Grimes. Your ass is mine.”

  He guffaws, pissing me off. “My name isn’t even Sean. Good luck finding me.”

  “The cops are on the other line, man.” Go ahead, asshole, hit me with another cocky comeback.

  “You answer it and she’s dead.”

  “How about I three-way call?” I tease.

  “You do and I pull the trigger.”

  “The only thing you know how to load is your fucking shorts, man. It’ll take me five minutes to figure out where the little pasty guy driving Grampa’s black Lincoln lives by banging on a few doors. Tina told me what part of town you’re in.”

  “You don’t have that kind of time.” I detect a quiver in his voice. I’m getting under his skin.

  “I’m already here, man. Tick tock.” I lie a little. I’m still about five minutes out from the highway.

  “Alright…one million.” He says as though I’m wearing him down.

  I laugh. “Do you really think I have that kind of money?” I do, but I’m not telling him that. “You should fire your bookie, Greg. I don’t have anywhere close to that kind of money. I don’t know what your friend Frank has been telling you, but you’re way off.”

  The line beeps again. I ignore it.

  “Nice try, Daniel. He tapped into your bank account months ago. I saw it myself. Why do you think I got into the course? So I could nail your ass.”

  “A few less zeros, my friend. Tell Frank to get his eyes checked.”

  “You’re lying. Nobody has twenty grand in their bank account unless they’re loaded.”

 
My voice raises an octave. “Are you really this stupid? You withdrew twenty grand from my credit card. Not from my account. I don’t even have twenty grand, buddy. Fact, you did me a favor. Once the claim goes through, I’ll be buying myself a new car.” I totally lie, but it’s fun pissing him off. I hear sirens behind me, and four police cruisers whiz by. “Well, lookie here…cops are onto you, Greg. You better take off now while you have the chance.”

  I hear scrambling and the line goes dead, as I slam on the gas and follow the cruisers. No idea if they’re headed to Greg’s house or not, but I’m not taking any chances. As I pull up to the house I’ll assume is Greg’s, I see that the house is surrounded. Two other cruisers have blocked off the street and I exit the car. An officer approaches me. “Son, you can’t be here.”

  I explain who I am. “I’ve been talking to the suspect on the phone up until about ten seconds ago. Kayla is alive but I think she’s hurt.”

  “Medics are on the way.”

  The officer walks away, not before asking me to stay put and away from the scene. My stomach is roiling. I want to get in there and make sure she’s okay. Who knows what he’s done to her. I see a female running from the side of the house and I run to her, only I realize it isn’t Kayla…it’s…Brenda? Cops try to run for her, but I’m ahead of them, since their eyes are trained on the front door.

  “Brenda,” I say, grabbing her. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “It was all Sean’s idea. He just paid me to stick around and help him.”

  “Where’s Kayla?” I demand, tightening my grip on her arm. I hear police shouting from behind me, getting closer to us.

  “She’s in the basement.” She answers breathlessly. Two cops surround Brenda, grabbing her arms.

  “They’ve got Kayla in the basement.” I say, running towards the house. More sirens are sounding from the ambulances arriving at the scene. When I reach the front door, the police have Greg face down on the floor, reading him his rights. Doing a quick scan, I find a door with a latch at the top and unhinge the lock, turning on the light. I see my girl laying face down on the floor. Almost falling down the stairs, I climb down them, two at a time, to get to her. Her belly is bloated, indicating internal bleeding. I check her pulse. It’s weak but evident.

  “We need a medic down here! Now!” I scream at the top of my lungs. As I remove the rags from her mouth, hands and feet, I see that bruising is obvious on her belly, indicating that she’s been kicked several times. “Kayla, baby, I’m going to get you some help.” I whisper breathlessly to her. She’s breathing but unconscious. Who knows how long they’ve left her down here for, injured, bound and gagged. Those sons of bitches are going to pay for this. The paramedics pummel down the stairs with a gurney, and I explain to them what I’ve found, and that I’m in medical school.

  They take her on the gurney up the steps using a practiced technique, and I follow them to the ambulance. I watch them shove Greg into the back of the police cruiser and I give him a wave with a ‘have fun in hell’ expression. He doesn’t respond. He just looks at the floor. It will give me no greater satisfaction calling Tina, letting her know that she’ll never have to worry about Greg being in the same room as Shyla for a very long time.

  Nana Mary meets me at the hospital, and we sit and wait while Kayla is in surgery to repair the tear in her abdomen from her broken rib. Luckily, they find no other tears, but it will be a long haul healing her ribs and the sutures. Mary and I divide up the calls while we wait for the doctor to let us in to see Kayla. Heather is still too sick to come to the hospital, as well as the other girls. My next call is to Tina, and she thanks me profusely for letting her know.

  An hour later, the doctor says that we can see Kayla. Still asleep, Kayla lays in the bed, nestled tightly under the covers, like a burrito. Despite what she’s been through, she’s still incredibly beautiful. Her hair is a little disheveled, but one would never know that she’s been kicked, beaten and probably dragged through God only knows what. I should have kicked Greg in the ribs, too, but I couldn’t do anything with all the cops around.

  Mary looks exhausted. It’s going on two o’clock in the morning. Being that I’m used to the witching hour, I suggest that she goes home and gets some rest, that I’ll stay with Kayla. “I work here, so they’ll bend the rules.” I say to her.

  “You’re a dear, darling. It’s no wonder my Margaret loved you so much.”

  I give her a warm smile and kiss her cheek before she leaves. Grabbing the guest chair, I slide it over to Kayla’s bedside and take a seat. Sighing, I skate my thumb down her cheek as she sleeps. “God, I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.” I whisper. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.” I kiss her cheek and take her hand in mine, stroking her palm with my thumb. That is where I stay until I feel a warm hand grasp the back of my neck.

  Chapter 24

  Kayla

  It feels like I’ve been thrown down a flight of stairs and kicked in the gut half a dozen times. My head pounds and my mouth tastes like someone’s socks are sitting in it. I want to vomit, but I’m terrified that it’ll hurt like hell. Even to turn my head it hurts. But when I do, it’s so worth it. Daniel’s head is resting beside my thigh. He’s sound asleep, holding my hand in his. I’m in a hospital room, semi-private, yet there are no other patients here. The window above the bed opposite mine is allowing daylight to come in, demonstrating that it’s morning.

  My hand finds the back of his neck, and I caress it. His hair is so soft I want to play in it. Slowly, he lifts his head, and opens his eyes. He’s so cute in his half-asleep state. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, groggily.

  “Hey yourself,” my voice sounds worse than his.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, kissing my hand.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I do, actually. Do you need pain meds?”

  Oh yeah, he’s a doctor in training…I seem to forget that a lot.

  “Unless it’s supposed to feel like someone is pounding the crap out of my stomach.” I’m flippant.

  “Sit tight,” he says, kissing my hand again, “I’ll go get the doctor.”

  Two minutes later, Daniel returns, carrying an IV bag. He rests it on the bed while he washes his hands in the sink beside me, and stuffs his hands into a set of latex gloves from a box under the sink. He attaches the IV bag to the IV pole next to my bed, and in practiced motions, sets it up so the intravenous drip is injecting the pain medication into the tube. “Wow, you really are going to be a doctor.”

  He smiles slightly, without eye contact, flicking the small plastic tube that leads to a little reservoir, which is dripping fluid into the bottom part of the tube. When he’s satisfied, he says, “There. That should start working any time.” He removes the right glove, and places his whole hand, palm-down on my forehead and presses gently. The gentle contact feels great. The way he exhales when he removes his hand from my forehead is endearing. “No fever. That’s good.” He drapes a loose tendril of hair over my ear and kisses in the spot where his hand was a moment ago.

  There is a U-shaped curtain on a track above the bed. It’s pulled away, tucked off to the side. Daniel pulls it over for privacy. Lowering the white sheet from my body, he slowly peels the paper draping off, inspecting the bandages underneath, exposing me. The bandage runs from the center of my ribcage to my navel; about six inches, and about three inches wide. His focus is solely on the spot where I was opened up. He’s definitely got his doctor’s hat on. Reaching over, he touches the tape portion of the bandage with his left index fingertip, and inspects the skin around it. I can’t take my eyes off him. His eyes scan my body with such care and concern, but also with professionalism. When he’s satisfied, he lets out that same sexy sigh through his nose, and settles the draping back over me. “The bandage will have to stay on for a couple of days. It doesn’t look too tight. Is it comfortable?”

  I nod. “It’s fine.”

  He tucks the w
hite sheet back around me and pulls the curtain back, opening the bed area up to the rest of the room again. “I got you this room so you wouldn’t have to bunk in with the rest of the recovery clan.”

  “Thanks. I never liked roommates.”

  He smiles, removing the other glove and tossing both gloves into the waste basket under the sink. He takes a seat beside me again and looks at me with a warm expression. His doctor’s hat is off as he leans over and kisses my lips. “Faker.” He teases, making me smile.

  “Don’t make me laugh.” I snuffle, placing a hand over the spot where Daniel was just inspecting a moment ago.

  “Alright, you win.” He leans in and kisses my lips again, this time letting it linger.

  “Behave.” I whisper. “I’m sure none of that is allowed for a number of weeks.”

  “Three broken ribs and internal bleeding. Yeah, six weeks minimum until you’re allowed to ride this stallion again.” He jokes. “You’re lucky you didn’t puncture a lung. You could have died.”

  “I lived.”

  “Yeah, well, Greg wouldn’t have lived if I got a hold of him.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  Daniel draws in a deep breath and speaks as he exhales. “I don’t know for certain. He won’t see the light of day for a long time. Neither will Brenda. Kidnapping is a felony. He’ll never be able to see his kid again unless it’s behind plate glass, until she’s of legal age, that is. If the courts try him on attempted murder, due to your injuries, he’s going to be put away for a long time.”

  “And what about your money?”

  “I’ll get it back.” He leans in and kisses me again. “I thought about something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You said your mom started having health problems after suffering from Anaphylaxis, right?”

  “Pretty much, yes. But the real problems started after my father left.”