by Mia Kayla
I was surprised when Kent took my hand in his.
“Come here.” He pulled me toward him. “Can I just hold you tonight? I promise, I won’t try anything crazy. Plus, tomorrow at brunch, I can honestly tell my parents we slept together.”
I knew this was dangerous, especially with the near misses throughout the day. I studied his face, which didn’t show any indication of his earlier mood. I really shouldn’t have, but I wanted him near me.
I laid my head on his chest. I was so close that I could hear the thumps of his heart beating. I exhaled a long tired sigh, feeling my whole body loosen in his embrace.
“Don’t ever doubt that Nana would be so proud of the woman you’ve become today,” he said, running his fingers through my wet hair.
His T-shirt smelled of detergent. It was like sleeping on newly laundered sheets. I nestled close and fell asleep to the rhythmic motions of his fingers running from my scalp to the ends of my hair.
Chapter 17
I woke up to a big puddle of drool on my pillow. I wiped my crusty mouth with the back of my hand. When I moved, I felt Kent behind me, spooning me—and he was erect.
“Kent!” I whined, hitting him with my arm.
He flipped onto his stomach. “Sorry. That tends to happen in the morning.” He chuckled, his words muffled against the pillow.
I took my pillow and whacked him on his back, again and again, until he flipped over and grabbed it from my hands. The phone rang, and I jumped off the bed before he could hit me back. Instead, he flung the pillow across the room, hitting me on the head.
“Hello?” I laughed, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Good morning. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Hi, Karen. Good morning. No, Kent is just being silly.”
“Come to bed, baby. I want more!” he yelled, so his mother could hear.
I widened my eyes at him as he placed both hands behind his head and gave me a wink.
“I’ll call back later,” Karen replied, letting out a delightful laugh.
“No, he’s just hungry,” I said.
“I’m hungry but not for food, baby!” he yelled even louder.
I squinted at him and pointed my finger in warning.
“You guys are too cute.” She chuckled. “I called to tell you that I’m not feeling too well this morning. I think I had a tad too much fun last night. We’re headed back to Barrington, so I’ll have to cancel brunch. I’m sure you two had a long night, too.”
I felt her smile on the phone.
“Okay, I hope you feel better, Karen.”
“Yes, nothing an Advil, some sleep, and a dark room can’t fix. And, Beth?”
“Yes?”
“Please call me Mom.”
I fell silent at her words. Mom. I bit my cheek, touched by her sentiment. “Okay,” I responded.
I blushed when Kent started moaning loudly.
“I have to go, Mom.”
“Okay, we’ll stop by this week. Have fun, and just so you know, your dad and I extended your stay for another night. You know, just in case you wanted to stay longer.”
I blushed at her inward thoughts. “Thanks.”
I hung up the phone, picked up the pillow off the floor, and threw it with a direct hit on Kent’s face. He let out a low laugh.
“When did you start acting so goofy?” I asked.
A dimple popped on his cheek. “When I met you,” he said, throwing the pillow back at me.
He missed as I sauntered toward the bathroom.
I couldn’t avoid the move.
Mr. and Mrs. Plack helped Kent move me into his condo and into his room. It was funny—watching them make room for my things, moving Kent’s belongings in the process—when I knew I’d move it all back into my apartment once the arrangement was over. Throughout the whole ordeal, I made faces at Kent behind his parents’ backs. When they left, I moved some of my stuff back into the spare bedroom.
“You know, when they visit in a couple of days, you’re going to have to remember to move your things back before they get here,” he said as he flipped through the channels on the TV while plopped on the couch.
“I know,” I whined, sitting next to him.
I thought about what would happen in three weeks—at the end of our arrangement. At that point, I’d be moving everything out. I wondered if I’d see his family again.
“It’s going to be hard. They love you, and they’ll never forgive me,” he said, reading my mind.
I gave him a nudge on the shoulder. “It’s okay. They’ll love the next one just as much.”
As crazy as these months had been, I had become part of a family, and I hadn’t felt that in such a long time. The openness and warmth that the Placks had shown me, by taking me in and showering me with affection, had been so overwhelming, but it was the kind that had left me with this fuzzy, bubbly overjoyed feeling, especially when Mrs. Plack would warm me with her hugs. I would miss that once this was over.
I peered up at Kent and thought of everything we’d been through. I knew I’d miss him the most. I wondered what our relationship would be like after this deal was over. He was my best friend in this new town that I’d moved to. As much as I’d felt confused as hell over these past few weeks, I knew I’d miss seeing him every day. I’d miss his newfound goofiness. I’d miss his dimples peeking up at me when I made him smile. I’d even miss his air of confidence. I’d just miss him. I’d miss it all.
I frowned, purposely making a sad face. “I’m going to miss your family, but most of all, I’ll miss you.” I didn’t care that saying it would only intensify the confusion building between us. It was the truth, and I felt that the sappiness had to come out.
He turned to my direction, his stare warming me. “There won’t be a next one.” His eyes showed such sadness, mirroring my own.
He placed his palm against my face. I leaned into it, closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of us breathing. When I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me with such intensity. His look alone set me ablaze. He stared at me for mere seconds as if he was going to make a move or he was contemplating it, but immediately, he dropped his hand from my face.
“Who else would want to marry this fool?” he said, pointing to himself. “Plus, I can’t do relationships.” He moved from the couch toward the kitchen and opened the fridge.
I secretly huffed at his revelation. After the near misses right up to the wedding and even during, I had to be careful. Just with Kent in the vicinity had me yearning to be near him, and I didn’t want to be the one to make that first move. I was starting to realize what I wanted, but what I wanted was something he couldn’t give me.
The next day at the end of the workday, I rushed out the front door, leaving Financial State. I felt the brisk air of fall hit my skin. As I turned the corner, I wondered what cuisine Kent had concocted for dinner. It was funny how as soon as I’d stepped out of work, I had already started thinking about dinner and wine with Kent.
Stopped at a crosswalk, a strong hand gripped my right arm with force, and a sharp object pushed against my side, jolting me from my state of calmness. The pounding of my heart resonated in my ears, and I dropped my laptop bag automatically, freely giving it up to my attacker. They can have it.
And then, he spoke, “Hi, Beth.” The stench of alcohol from Jesse’s breath was strong enough to wake the dead. “Listen carefully. You move, you shout, you draw any type of attention our way, and I’ll kill you. I’ll shoot you dead.” I tilted my head in his direction and flinched at the sight of him.
I stiffened at his words, feeling the jab of what I assumed was a gun underneath his jacket pointed directly into my side. I looked around us. With the buzz of rush hour, everyone was scurrying home, paying no attention to this homeless-looking male next to me in a worn black jacket and jeans. I looked to the crowd passing me by and begged for help with my eyes, but no one made eye contact.
“Move,” he said, probing me forward as he draped one arm aro
und me, pulling me to his side.
Dread washed over me as I stared into the depths of his pupils. His black eyes were deep and soulless. He pushed me down the street with one arm draped across my shoulders and the other hand digging a gun into my side. We turned into an alley, and he shoved me face-first into the backseat of a car. He tied my hands and slammed the door behind him.
I’m dead. The number-one rule when one was kidnapped was to never, ever go to a second location. I should have let him shoot me on the street. At least there, I would have had a fighting chance. Why didn’t I scream at the top of my lungs?
“Sit up, and don’t move,” he commanded.
Two large black duffel bags on the floor caught my eye. I rooted myself against the seat and pushed one open with my foot. Wads of cash bounded by currency straps filled the duffel bag. I could only assume the other was filled with the same. I held my breath and swore I was going to pass out from the anxiety building in my chest.
“Where did you get all this cash?” My voice quivered, failing me.
He glanced at the rearview mirror, and his eyes flitted from left to right as he started to drive off. He ignored my question. “Where’s your phone? Call your mom. I need to talk to her.” When I didn’t move, his voice hardened as he said, “I’m not going to ask you again. Call your mother.”
“It’s in my bag, and I can’t exactly reach for it when my hands are tied. Where did you get all this money, Jesse?” I pressed, trying to keep my voice level.
“Shut up.” He looked around, turned into another alley, and slammed on the brakes, throwing me forward and making me hit the seat in front of me.
He stepped out of the car, pulled me to a sitting position, and yanked the ropes off of my hands. “Call your mother from your phone. She’ll answer.”
I grabbed my phone and steadied my shaking hands to look for her number. When I pressed the button to dial, Jesse yanked the phone from my hands.
“Jamie. Jamie, baby, I’m sorry.” He ran one hand through his hair, his eyes frantic. “I didn’t mean to hit you. You led me to do it. We have money now. I did this for you, for us. We don’t need anything else but the money and each other.” He exhaled. “If you had just waited till I got the money and you drove the car, none of this would have happened. We could have been out of town by now.” Paranoid, his eyes flittered to our surroundings. “Call me back.”
Shit. He robbed a bank.
Dropping the phone on my seat, he surveyed the area before getting back in the car and driving off.
We stopped, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. My eyes searched for anyone I could make eye contact with. I looked in cars and at the people walking down the street. Nobody was paying attention.
“Keep calling her. Tell her it’s an emergency.” His eyes observed our surrounding area as the traffic began to let up. “Do it!” he yelled, making me jump.
Sitting straighter on my seat, I quickly dialed her number. “Jamie, it’s me. Call me back. I’m with Jesse. Please call me back.”
“We need to leave and get out of town. I need to find her first,” he said, mostly to himself. “Call her back. Keep calling,” he commanded.
We stopped at a red light, and my eyes flipped up to focus on the police car right next to us. Jesse gripped the steering wheel with both hands, the whites of his knuckles evident. His head remained utterly still as he seemed focused on the red Toyota Camry in front of us, careful not to move his eyes to where the police officers sat to our right.
I took that nanosecond to make a stupid move. I stared directly in front of me at the back of Jesse’s head while doing it, and I only hoped I was texting the right information.
In Black Corolla with Jesse. On Madison and Wells. Help.
Trying to calm the tremor in my hands, I sent the text to Kent and deleted it.
When we passed a couple of lights, my phone rang, and I jumped. Glancing at the flash on my phone screen, relief washed over me as Jamie’s name came up. I was glad Kent was not stupid enough to call.
“It’s Jamie.”
Exiting toward the highway, he reached back, and I gave him my phone.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. What? Yeah, I’m calling from Beth’s phone because I have her. No. She’s fine. She’s safe. We have enough money to finally get out of this place. I’m coming to get you, baby. Just tell me where you are.” His eyes surveyed the highway, darting from left to right. “No, I can’t do that. I’ll let her go when I pick you up.”
Cars swished past us as he stayed in the right lane, adhering to the speed limit.
“We don’t got a lot of time here. Tell me where the hell you are, or there will be consequences to pay. Don’t make me mad, Jamie. You know what happens when I get angry.” He scowled at the rearview mirror, staring into my face.
A shudder ran through my body as I sent up a silent prayer to Nana, wishing this was all a terrible nightmare that I’d wake up from at any minute.
“Good. Be there. I’m coming to get you. Yeah, I’ll let her go once you are in the car.”
Five minutes later, I noticed Jesse tense up as a cop car trailed behind us.
“Face forward. I don’t want you looking around,” he commanded.
I didn’t think anything of it until another cop car pulled up to the left of us. I felt anxiety rolling off of him as he blanched and gripped the wheel, trying to pay no attention to the cops beside us. When the cop lights flickered, my head slammed against the backseat as Jesse pressed on the gas. Flashing lights and sirens indicated that the cops were on our tail.
We were in a full-on car chase on Interstate 90, and when I glanced behind us, the two cops had now grown into four. Cars moved to the right lane to get out of our way as we sped through the highway doing over ninety miles per hour.
He exited the highway and blew through a red light. I held on to my seat with both hands as he veered the corner. My eyes flickered to Jesse. His eyes were wide as he glanced toward the rearview mirror, watching the chaos around us. He turned a corner and hit the brakes as he realized we’d hit a dead end.
I jumped when he punched the dashboard. He reached for his revolver as he twisted to look behind us. We were surrounded by flashing lights on all sides, confined by law enforcement. Eight or nine cop cars had caged us in. Everyone, including Jesse, was ready with their guns out.
Anxiety rose inside me as he whispered, “I’m not going to jail.”
“Sir, step out of the car. We need you to get out of the car,” an officer said over a speaker.
“Get in the front—now!” Jesse ordered.
I did as I’d been told and jumped to the front seat.
Jesse gripped my upper arm and pushed me toward the door. “We’re going to get out of here.”
He yanked me out of the car and positioned me as a barrier between the law enforcers and himself. I flinched when I felt the cold revolver against my neck.
“Back away. I’ll kill her. I swear it!” he shouted toward the crowd of policemen.
The ringing in my ears began to intensify as bile crept up my stomach and into my throat. My vision blurred as I scanned the chaos around us, and then I saw him.
Kent.
He was standing behind his opened car door. His eyes mirrored mine with pure terror and something more—helplessness.
As I looked into his eyes across the mass of chaos with the cars and the cops, all I wanted, all I wished for in that second was to feel his arms around me with his breath against my neck as he held me close. I wished I could have that just one last time.
Tears ran down my face as our eyes locked.
If I were to die this instant, there would be so many things left unsaid. Things I wish I would have said as I stared into his eyes, the warmest brown eyes—the eyes that had offered me comfort, the ones that had crinkled at me every time we laughed together, the ones belonging to the man who had taken me in and welcomed me into his family.
If I ever had a chance to talk to hi
m again after this—after this crazy, unforeseen moment—I’d tell him, I’d scream out to the world those three little words that I would have never had the guts to say until this moment.
I love you.
I love you, Kent. Not just love you, care for you, but I’m in love with you, in a way where my heart is so full, full to the point of combustion.
And I just want you to know this, even though you might never give me what I need—for you to be with me and only with me, I need you to know that I’ve fallen for you. Because if I don’t get to see the light of day tomorrow, you deserve to know your place in my life is profound, and I want to thank you for caring for me in a way I haven’t felt in such a long time.
“Let’s talk about this reasonably. Let her go, and no one will get hurt,” the policeman said.
“No. I make the rules here!” Jesse yelled, prodding me forward. “I need everyone to back away. I will kill her. You hear me?”
He jammed the revolver further into the side of my throat, and my vision blurred as tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my face.
Directly in front of me, Kent gripped the car door for support. His eyes, which usually provided comfort, glistened with fear. I couldn’t bear to look at him as panic inside me intensified.
“Okay, don’t do anything drastic. Everyone, in your cars!” the cop yelled into his receiver.
One by one, the officers began to draw back. Jesse retreated backward, flopped me into the backseat, and jumped into the car. As he wheeled the car around to drive out of the dead-end street, I heard the first gunshot, held my ears, and screamed.
Jesse’s eyes were wide as he looked around him. He hit the brakes hard, plummeting me forward toward the seat in front of me. The gun was still gripped in his hand against the steering wheel.
I didn’t waste any time to think. I just reacted.
I propelled myself out the door and ran. I ran as fast as I could. All I kept thinking was, Run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
He could shoot me, but I kept running until I tripped on my own feet and fell to the ground on all fours. The impact of the fall scraped my knees while pain shot up my thigh. I glanced behind me. Jesse was on his feet and out of the car, and his gun was pulled straight out in front of him. This time, everyone had their weapons pointed at him as well.
