by Lilly Wilder
“We didn’t do anything,” the moody guy speaks first.
I have to admit I like the other one better. He at least asked me how I was doing and offered me a drink and his blanket. This guy barely looked at me. Not that I wanted him to look at me. But, if you come to rescue someone, don’t you want to make sure they’re alright when you actually find and rescue them?
“I wouldn’t say that, Fynn,” the other guy pats him on the shoulder, the way partners do. “We found her and brought her back safe and sound, didn’t we?”
“She is back here because Sven arranged it that way,” Fynn snorts, and again, doesn’t even look at me. “He had it all planned out and we did exactly what he wanted us to do. Now, the question remains, why is she here, safe and sound, without him getting what he wanted?”
His voice lingers in the air, and I know my father is thinking about it. I myself am thinking about it. The guy just left me there, without a word. He threatened to kill me if he didn’t get what he wanted, and he just left me. That can’t be right. Even I know this much.
“Do you have it, Hugo?” Fynn asks.
“Of course,” my father replies. “It’s in my safe.”
I wonder if it’s in the safe everyone assumes he has, or in the other one, where he keeps the really valuable items. He doesn’t elaborate, and neither do I.
“I was ready to hand it over for Maddie, like Sven asked.”
“He’s not working alone,” Fynn says, what I know they’re all thinking. “This is way too sophisticated for him. And, the ending is confusing as Hell. Why run without getting his hands on it?”
That curiosity catches my attention, and I wonder what it could be. I know my father has a few special items in his other safe, things that are better kept hidden than allowed to roam the world, getting transferred from one pair of wrong hands to another.
“That can mean only one thing,” my father adds. “This is just the beginning. I’m sure that there’s a phase 2 to whatever this is, and that’ll be even more dangerous.”
“Absolutely,” the other cop finally chimes in. “That’s why Fynn and I were thinking… you guys need to lay low for a while. We could arrange your stay at a safe house, and not even a battalion of tanks will be able to get through to you.”
I see the look on my father’s face change. He’s remembered something, something that doesn’t align well with this reasonable plan.
“I have to travel,” he tells them.
“This is a little more important than your business, Hugo,” Fynn eyes him scornfully.
“You don’t understand. This is a multi-million dollar deal that’s been planned for a year now. I can’t back down. You don’t understand the consequences this might have on my business. I… I just can’t.”
Listening to my father worry about his work when our lives were in danger hits a sore spot, but I know him. I know that he’s built this company from ground up and I know how much it means to him. Giving in to that guy and whoever he’s working with would be like giving up on everything he’s worked for, losing his company, maybe even more. So, I can understand where he’s coming from, even though Fynn doesn’t seem to.
“I can hire bodyguards, pay them whatever to keep me safe,” my father adds. “But, I need to be present at that meeting.”
“Listen, Hugo - “ Fynn starts but his partner interrupts him.
“Let’s all calm down here,” his voice is calm, friendly even. “If Hugo needs to go, then we can arrange for someone from our precinct to join him. Maybe, Rodnet and Kear.”
“I don’t know them,” my father shakes his head.
“And, you don’t need to,” Fynn snorts again. “All you need to know is that they will keep you safe, at the expense of their own lives. So, if you really can’t sit your ass down here and lay low, this is the only other option available.”
“What about Maddie?” my father wonders, and I feel this is the first time Fynn actually looks at me, and not through me.
“She won’t be going anywhere,” Fynn shrugs. “It’s difficult enough keeping an eye on one person who’s got a target on his forehead, let alone two. And one of them being a girl who prefers bars.”
“I beg your pardon!?” I take a step forward to him, ready to explain that the only reason I was at that bar was because my friends made me do it, and I was about to head home when all that happened.
“Alright, alright,” my father lays his hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. “Fynn’s a little rough on the edges, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it. Just don’t pay too much attention to what he says.”
“Yeah, princess,” Fynn grins at me, his ghostly white teeth, with fangs that I only noticed now. “If you want a shoulder to cry on, talk to Anderson there. But, if you want to stay alive, then do listen to what I have to say.”
And, with those words, everyone is left speechless. The smirk on his face tells me he liked how that felt.
“So, Fynn and I were thinking,” Anderson jumps in here, and we’re all kinda happy he does, “we’ll take Maddie to the safe house up North.”
“Is that the one - “
“Yes,” Anderson interrupts my father. “It’s the one where we made sure that Milo would stay alive.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but I know it’s important. I can’t go back to my life knowing that the person who kidnapped me is still out there, maybe plotting something more, something worse.
“Take her there,” my father agrees without another word said.
“What? Dad, I don’t - “
“I can’t stay here to keep you safe, sweetheart,” my father tells me. “And, right now, these two guys are the only ones I trust. They’re the only ones I know will be able to protect you.”
Nothing else needs to be said. Nothing else needs to be explained. I know he’s right. Especially if he’s not here, I can’t go back to my apartment alone. That guy probably knows all about where I live and that I’m alone there.
“When will you be back?” I ask him.
“I’ll try to return as quickly as I can, hopefully a week, maybe two.”
“As soon as your father returns, we’ll take him to you,” Anderson addresses me, and for some inexplicable reason, his words calm me. I trust him, even though I have very little to base that on.
“See?” my father joins in. “It’ll be alright.”
“I’d hate to cut this short, but we really need to get both of you out of here,” Fynn tells us. “For all we know your house could be bugged, or under surveillance.”
“I doubt that,” my father shakes his head. “The bugged part, I mean. No one enters my study. I make sure to lock it when I’m not home. Not even the cleaning lady has access to it unless I’m here. So, if the place really is wired, this room would be the only safe one.”
“If you say so,” Fynn nods. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we need to get out of here, now.”
“Can I pack some stuff?” I ask.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room, so you can grab what you need,” Anderson tells me.
“No, my stuff is at my apartment.”
“It’s not safe to go there,” Anderson tells me. “Do you have anything you can grab from here?”
“I guess.”
“Let’s meet up in front in 5 minutes,” Fynn instructs, and Anderson nods.
We leave my father’s study, and I start up the stairs first, but he grabs me by the elbow.
“Wait, I’ll go first.”
“You think someone’s here?” The thought of there being an intruder who’s just waiting to jump out from the darkness and kill us makes me shiver with fright. This has been one helluva night, and it looks like it’s not nearly over.
“With the tight security Hugo has, it’s doubtful,” Anderson assures me, but something tells me he’s only saying that to keep me calm. “But, seeing what you’ve been through tonight, it doesn’t hurt to be
extra careful.”
“Thanks,” I suddenly say. “For saving me, I mean. And, now for looking after me and my dad.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” he flashes a row of pearly whites at me, as his disobedient curls fall over the left side of his face and right into his eyes. His shakes his head, then rakes his fingers through his hair, like a swim suit model. “It’s all in a day’s work.”
“Well, still….” I smile.
“Don’t worry,” he tells me, sensing my fear, “everything will be alright.”
I show him where my room is once we reach the top of the stairs, and he enters first. A few moments later, he returns and gestures me in.
“All clear,” he announces.
I go in and grab my old backpack. Most of my stuff is in my apartment, but luckily I left some mostly unworn clothes here, which will do just fine under the circumstances. I stuff a few sweatshirts, a pair of sweatpants, some socks and underwear into my backpack, then turn to Anderson.
“All done?” he asks me. I nod. “That was quick.”
“Not like I’m going on a holiday,” I say a little more snarkily than I planned. “Sorry.”
I immediately bite my lip. It’s not his fault. And, he’s been so kind and sympathetic, unlike his partner.
“It’s OK,” he assures me. “You’ve been through Hell tonight. You’re allowed to snap.”
“But, not at you. You’re the least to blame for all this.”
“Don’t worry, I’m thick-skinned,” he winks at me, and before he manages to turn around and exit the room first, my cheeks blush poppy red.
He shows me another smile, and politely chooses not to comment anything else. We both get out of the room, slowly descend the stairs and head out to the front door. This house, so vast and grand, looks like a trap from this perspective, and I always felt safe there. Funny how things change in a blink of an eye. But, if anyone should know that, it’s me.
My dad and I get into the police car, and watch as the headlights disperse through the darkness in front of us, illuminating the way ahead.
The only question is will this light be enough to save us?
CHAPTER 6
After we drop my father off at the police station, and Fynn settles everything with the two cops that are going to keep my father safe during his business trip, we continue our way to the safe house. Fynn is driving, and looking at his profile image from the back seat, I can see the sharp outlines of his clenched jaw, the veins in his lower arms and hands jutting as he firmly grasps the steering wheel.
Anderson, on the other hand, seems jovial. If he feels any concern or fear about this whole thing, he’s doing a great job of hiding it. Occasionally during the trip, I want to ask something, but I stop myself, because I’m worried Fynn might answer it first, and I don’t really feel like talking to him. So, I remain quiet, and eventually doze off.
At some point later on, I’m woken up by someone’s gentle nudge on the shoulder.
“Hey, Maddie?” The voice is soft, soothing, it almost blends into my dream. “Wake up, we’re here.”
The voice continues to stir me, and I finally open my eyes to find Anderson’s face a few inches away from mine, his wide grin aimed straight at me. I clear my throat a little, as I pull back, afraid I’ll blush again. He gets the hint and does the same. We’re at a safer distance now, but his smile is still there. He offers me his hand, and I take it, exiting the car like royalty, but not really feeling like it.
“So, this will be home, sweet home for the next month or so,” he says, as we both gaze at the inconspicuous looking house in front of us.
When they said a safe house, I guess my mind conjured up images of bars on the windows and alarms, and all those other things that are supposed to make a house safe, but I see this place has none of that. It’s just a house, one you’d pass by without even checking out twice. Maybe, that’s the whole point exactly.
“It’s much better on the inside,” Anderson adds, as if he senses my disappointment. “I know it’s probably not what you’re used to, but…”
“If it keeps me alive, then it’s exactly what I’m looking for,” I try a smile, and it works.
“Why are you standing here in plain sight? Get inside,” Fynn pushes past us, separating me and Anderson as he does so.
Anderson pretends to roll his eyes, but there is still a smile on his face, and for some reason, I know that the relationship between these two is strong. It has gotten past those little insecurities people have, and they have obviously accepted each other, flaws and all. Not that it looks like Anderson has much of them. Pleasing on the eyes, charming, helpful, chatty. He’s the exact opposite of Fynn.
Anderson gestures at me to go first this time. We walk up a small wooden patio, covered in splotches of darker paint. It creaks underneath the weight of our bodies. There are two rocking chairs, and a small table between them. I can’t really see myself having my morning coffee here, but I understand the purpose behind this scene. It’s supposed to convey an image of a house where the dwellers aren’t afraid to sit outside and be seen by occasional passers-by. Not that there is much traffic around here. We were brought to this place by a small patch of dirt road, and I bet you can only find it if you know what you’re looking for. Otherwise - good luck.
Fynn is already inside, so we follow him. When I enter, an unpleasant smell of a lack of usage hits my nostrils. I guess it shows on me, because Anderson immediately jumps to explain.
“Yeah, we definitely need to air the place a little,” he winks at me, and I chuckle. Maybe it won’t be so bad with him here.
Fynn walks out from the last room down the hallway. “Your room is that one.” He points. “Anderson and I are sleeping in the room next to yours.” I just nod. “The kitchen is to your left. You’ve got your basic utilities, but the coffee sucks. The machine has its own mind and will refuse to make you coffee occasionally. Apart from that, the toaster is working fine, and the microwave, too.”
“So, we’ll be cooking?” I wonder.
“We can’t quite order out here, princess,” he snorts at me.
“That’s not what I meant,” I reply.
“Cut her some slack, Fynn, will ya?” Anderson’s soft voice tingles in my right ear, where he also places his hand upon my shoulder. “The girl’s been through enough for one night.”
“She will be through more if we aren’t careful. Sven isn’t finished with her, you know this yourself, Anderson.”
“I know, but come on.”
“You can be all freakin’ lovey-dovey for all I care, but someone here needs to keep his head on his shoulders, if we’re all gonna get out of this alive.” With those words, he sighs, then shakes his head. “I’ll go outside to check the premises. You can help her settle in.”
“Fynn, I didn’t mean - “ Anderson starts, but Fynn is already out the door.
Now, it’s Anderson turn to sigh, as he gestures helplessly at me.
“He’s not really a bad guy.”
“Yeah, he just sounds and acts that way,” I furrow my brow.
“I know that’s how it looks to you, and I’m pretty sure that’s how it looks to most people. But, once you scratch that hard, edgy surface… trust me, there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side when shit hits the fan.”
“Like it did this time?”
“Well…” he scratches the back of his head, and gives me a mischievous, boyish look to die for.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I chuckle. “So, you know this guy? This Sven?”
“Sort of,” Anderson nods, walking around a small coffee table and sitting on the sofa. “We got unofficial records saying he’s done everything under the sun, but we could ever only catch him on some minor stuff that would barely hold up in court. That, plus his lawyer is an unforgiving piranha, so we always need to do everything by the book, otherwise the evidence we get on him is deemed unacceptable in the court of law.”
; “Tough.”
“Tell me about it,” he sighs again. “Every time something big happens and we manage to connect it to him, he’s nowhere to be seen. And, it’s been a while since he’s been active. Maybe even a few years. The fact that he’s out of hiding, sort of, and pulling a stunt like this, kidnapping you, tells us more’s at stake here. There are some big players involved, I’m sure of it.”
“Big players? You mean, like my dad?”
“Even bigger.”
“That’s really big then. But, I don’t understand, what does any of this have to do with my dad? And, what is it that Sven wanted? Why didn’t he ask for money, like any normal kidnapper would?”
Anderson allows me a moment or two, before replying. He gazes at me deeply, his eyes the color of ashes and smoke dispersing in the wind. I could sense that there is an intense truth he wants me to know, but he’s still not sure if he should tell me.
“Do you know where your father’s wealth comes from?” he suddenly asks me the question. I’ve never asked myself, but simply took it for granted that my father earned it. All of it. But now, faced with this dilemma, I realize how childish my convictions have been.
“From his business?” I shrug. “It’s been doing pretty well, I think.”
“Sure, pretty well, but millions of dollars’ worth well?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug again. “It’s none of my business. I mean, I don’t run it, he does. So, why would I know the inner workings?”
“I guess it’s not really something you’d like to share,” he says solemnly.
“Why?”
“This is not for me to tell you,” he suddenly pulls back.
“Tell me what?” I take a step closer to him. “You can’t throw this bomb on me, and then say oh no, can’t tell you, sorry.”
“Well, that’s what I’m saying, sorry. I shouldn’t have started this conversation. It’s not my place to tell you such a thing.”
“Well, can you tell me one thing then?”
“What?”
“Is my father the bad guy here?” My voice trembles as I ask this, the tears struggling to flood my face, but I’m not letting them.
