Capturing Hearts: Hearts Series Book 4

by Hopkins, Faleena

  “Tommy! Tommy!” Bruce yells, keeping his grip on my old man. “You have to go get her! Someone’s going to find her!”

  Panting to catch my breath, I look toward the door and nod. Glancing back to my unconscious father, I shake my head. “I can’t believe what he was about to do.”

  “Remember what Rita told you? I’ve got this. You go!”

  Gasping for breath, I jump up and run for the door. Looking behind me, I see Bruce pulling the ropes over my dad’s wrists. “Bruce?” He looks over to me. “Thank you.” He nods.

  As I run through the hall, I hear him yell, “And by the way, Walter! I am gay, but I fucking hate being called Brucie!” A dull, loud thud follows. As I race down the stairs of the place I used to call home, I allow myself one little smile for Bruce’s redemption.

  Outside, Annie’s running up the center of the street under a sun-filled Marin County sky, yelling, “HELP!”

  “Shut up!” I whisper-yell at her. She turns around, then looks for where to run, not sure if she can trust me or not. She’s hobbling, and I catch up with her easily, covering her mouth and dragging her to the side of a darkened home. I grew up here. Most of our neighbors go back east for the holiday to celebrate where there’s snow and tradition. There’s probably only two houses on this street with people in them, and that’s two too many.

  She gives a muffled cry against the palm of my hand. Then bites me. I yelp, shaking my hand and giving her a murderous look. “Quit it! I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me hurt you. Okay? Would I have saved you just now?”

  Panting, her face bruised and wet, she shakes her head. “Take me home!”

  “Okay! I’ll take you home. Come on.” She doesn’t move, too surprised to function. I motion for her to follow me and she hesitates, but then decides she has no other choice. “I’m taking you home! I promise. Okay? Look into my eyes.” I point at them. “I promise.” She relaxes. Checking out her face, I say, “Looks like he punched you pretty good.”

  She nods, holding her stomach and peering at me. “You too,” she says, hoarsely.

  “Yeah, not the first time,” I mumble. “My car’s just up here.” I parked it out of sight of the old house, a habit from robbing homes ever since I was a kid. But no one would have recognized this old beater, so I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. She looks at the Colt as we walk up to it, then glances to me. “Don’t say it,” I smile, attempting to make her feel better. “I’ve gone down in the world.”

  She blinks a couple times, still trying to figure me out. I unlock her door and she gets in carefully. I pull off my jacket and hand it to her. She takes it, staring up at me like I’m some sort of alien. I exhale, walking around to get in the car.

  “Where are we?” she asks.

  “Marin,” is all I say. She’ll see the signs as we drive back to the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m too busy thinking what to do, how I’m going to get the hell out of this state, and probably this country.

  After fifteen minutes of driving in silence, her voice sounds more like normal when she asks, “How’d you get out? Did you escape?”

  I nod. “And I’m not going back.” I turn my head to meet her eyes. “Ever.”

  We drive in silence. What would we have to talk about? Neither of us likes the other and the truth is, she’s my ticket to freedom. But how?

  After a few more miles, past Sausalito, I turn off on the last road before the bridge’s entrance. Annie looks around quickly.

  “Where are we going? The bridge is that way!”

  I nod again, more slowly this time. “I’m not taking you home, Annie. They’ll only throw me back in if I do that.”

  Her jaw falls and she searches the one lane road. “Where are you taking me? What are you doing?” She reaches over to punch me, but I block her fist and swerve on the road.

  “HEY!” I screech to a halt, swiveling in my seat. “None of that Martial Arts bullshit. You hear me? You’ve got someone there who you don’t want to get hurt, am I right?” My eyes flick down to her stomach barely hidden under my coat. She sniffles, but her eyes are fierce and ready to fight. “Now you listen to me and you listen good. There is no way I’m going back there and I will do whatever it takes. Do you understand?” Her breathing is short, so I tell her to breathe as I reach below my seat for the cuffs Bruce left me.

  She sees me bring them up into the dim light of the ancient dash-console, and yells, “NO!” punching at me with both fists. A couple land, but I wrestle the cuffs onto her, leaving her gasping and screaming. I shove my hand over her face and hiss, “Don’t make me hit you.” She eyes me from the corners of wary eyelids. “If I hit you, it’s because you made me. Got it?” She nods. I release her mouth and with my attention heightened, I drive on toward the cave.

  “You promised you were taking me home.”

  I smile, “I’m a liar Annie, you should know that.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Brendan

  1:11 p.m.

  A knock at the door. “Brendan?” Mark’s familiar voice.

  I rise up and unlock it. My eyes are bloodshot. Not that I know this. My body feels like it’s already dead. Mark and Nicole are standing there with coats over their arms, dressed in jeans and sweaters. I move to the side so they can come in. Nicole pauses as she passes me, letting me know with a look how sorry she is that this is happening. Their suitcases, small carry-ons, get stashed against a wall. They lay their coats over them, and glance at each other as they take in the tree, it’s lights dark now.

  “I’ll make some food,” Nicole says quietly, glancing to me as I head for the couch. Mark walks over.

  “You’re too tall to stand above me like that,” I mutter, falling into our old routine.

  He gives a ghost of smile. He knows I’m just going through the motions. I clocked out hours ago. He sits on the ottoman and I wince at the memory of me and Annie just yesterday.

  “Not there.”

  He doesn’t ask why as he gets up and sits on the couch next to me. “Did you go to the police station?”

  I nod. “Manny called. He’s alive. He’s grief stricken now. Kept saying it’s his fault. I called Taryn and Laura. Annie’s parents. Some people you don’t know who she’s met at work. All the people from my office who knew Tommy. The cops that worked on the case last time came in on their day off. It’s Christmas, you know.” I meet his eyes.

  “What did they say?”

  “Someone called with an anonymous tip two hours ago. Tommy’s father was discovered in his old house, tied up and beaten severely. It was Tommy, Mark. He’s on a rampage.” I stare at my best friend for answers.

  His jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck clenching. “We know him…”

  “We didn’t know he was a burglar for life.”

  Mark talks over me. “Better than anyone. So let’s think where he could have gone.”

  I put my head in my hands and rub my face. “Okay. His apartment is gone. He’s not at his old house. They searched it.”

  “How about the neighborhood?” I blink yes. “What about his mom and cousin?”

  “They can’t find them. I don’t know anything about his cousin. Did you ever meet the guy? I mean outside of the trial.”

  Mark shakes his head. “Never. What about people at work?”

  I make a noise, turning my body a little. “Our C.F.O. was having an affair with him. I already accused her of hiding him. She’s not.”

  Nicole comes in with long strides and sets down two steaming cups of black coffee. She touches Marks shoulder as she leaves again. “Thanks, babe,” he says, glancing to her retreating form, his mind on the problem. “Drink up.”

  Out of apathy, I obey. “You guys are doing well. I didn’t expect her to come with you.”

  “She had plans with her girlfriends. We all did, but she canceled them without complaint. This is more important.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad she’s here. When I get Annie back, she’ll want to see that ring.”


  Mark’s lips flatten as he looks down at the cup in his hands. “What about Tammy?”

  “Already knocked on her door. Some guy opened it. She walked out of the bedroom wearing his button-up shirt. Speaking of rings, he had one.” I take a sip of the bitter brew, licking my lips.

  “Ah. Not much changes. Well, what about Rebecca?”

  I look up at Mark, and set the coffee cup down. “Rebecca wouldn’t hide him.”

  Mark blinks at the defensiveness in my voice. “Of course she wouldn’t. But has she heard from him? You know he had a thing for her.”

  The tense knot in my chest grips harder and I reach for my phone. “She would have told me,” I mutter, dialing.

  Mark says, “Maybe she doesn’t know he kidnapped your wife.”

  “If she does know…Rebecca.”

  “Brendan? I didn’t expect to hear from you, today. Is this about Tommy?”

  I share a look with Mark, holding his eyes as I answer. “Yes. It is about Tommy. How’d you know that?”

  She pauses. “I got a call from someone yesterday. They didn’t say anything, but when I said his name, whoever it was hung up fast.”

  My heart starts to pound. “Did you call him back? Give me the number! Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  Becoming defensive, she argues, “Well, we’re not talking anymore, Brendan! And I saw he escaped, on the news, but I knew he’d leave the country and be long gone. So what was the use in calling you? I mean, really, I don’t think your new wife would have been too happy to hear from me on Christmas Eve, do you?”

  With my elbow on my knee and my forehead in my hand, I listen to this. “He’s got Annie. I think she would have been very happy to hear from you.”

  Mark takes the phone from me. “Rebecca, this is Mark. Give me the number, please.” He grabs a pen and writes it down. “Yes, he kidnapped her last night. They didn’t know Tommy escaped. Yes, it’s horrible.” He pauses again. “No, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” He hands me the phone. “She demands to come here.”

  I frown, yanking it from his hand. “You’re not coming over!”

  “Brendan, I’m coming over. I can help,” she says with her usual authority.

  With angry sarcasm, I ask, “How can you help?”

  “Okay, look. I wasn’t a fan of having things end between us. That’s no secret. But I don’t want your wife hurt and you need to know something I’ve been keeping secret. I lied to you, Brendan. I slept with Tommy. When I said I wouldn’t see him? Well, I did.” She waits for a response and when I say nothing, continues in a softer voice. “Brendan, he might try to call me again.”

  My overall distaste for her shifts, replaced by a bead of hope. “Come over. If he calls, I want to know about it. But I’m not happy you lied to me.”

  “And I’m not happy you got married. We’re even. I’m on my way.” She hangs up.

  I lay the phone down and Mark sticks the coffee cup back in my hand as Nicole returns with bacon, eggs and toast on a couple of plates. “She fucked Tommy,” I tell him. Meeting Nicole’s raised eyebrows, I explain. “That’s Rebecca. My ex. Sort of. She fucked Tommy and didn’t tell me. But she may be our only way to find him. She’s coming over.”

  Nicole shares a look with Mark, surprised at the news. Her smooth voice has a calming effect on both of us. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that there are angels watching over us. I know that sounds silly or foofy, or whatever, but–”

  I cut her off. “I’ll take whatever help I can get.”

  Mark asks her, “Babe? Where’s yours?”

  She smiles and touches his arm again, and heads back for the kitchen. “On another plate. I just couldn’t carry them all. Now eat. The eggs are getting cold.”

  Out of politeness, I pick up the plate, and dig in. My body takes over, and somehow I eat it all. We eat in silence and it’s dismal. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Alright, you guys go and put your things in your old room, Mark. Go rest. You must be tired from the plane ride. I’ll get the dishes; it’ll give me something to do. No, don’t argue,” I tell Nicole.

  She smiles, her caramel-colored eyes filled with compassion.

  She hangs their coats as Mark picks up both suitcases and heads for the spiral staircase. Watching them walk away, I feel pain in my chest throbbing again. They’re such a good fit, both tall, both serene in their countenance. The fact that they’re different ethnicities adds a strength to them, too. Like they’re ahead of the world’s curve somehow.

  But seeing them here just makes me miss my wife.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Annie

  Why in the world would Tommy bring me here, of all places?

  I squint around the cave, sunlight illuminating the entrance brightly but losing steam as it reaches toward the back of the cavern. The gray rock walls are covered with graffiti, not the gang variety, just kids leaving their mark over many, many late nights. With a darkened fire pit as the only luxury, I’m unable to keep my mouth shut.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He throws me a hardened look. “I’m sorry. It’s just my back is killing me and it’s freezing in here. Where am I supposed to sit?” Reminding myself I’m at his mercy, I quiet. We’re up a hill near Fort Mason, an old army post that’s been closed for decades, near the Marin County side of the Golden Gate Bridge. There’s no one around for miles, and I have no idea why he would bring me here.

  Tommy has proven himself to be one thing, volatile and unpredictable. He saved me from his father, yes. But he’s escaped from San Quentin and him having pulled that off is a testament to how much I need to take him seriously, no matter how little respect I have for him after the way he acted in college, and how he treated me back then. Even if I weren’t in handcuffs, I can’t kick or punch Tommy without fear of him punching me in the stomach. The times today I’ve lashed out at him and his father, were out of instinct, not smarts. I need to be more careful. I’m not just me anymore. The irony is, what’s got me acting out more is an effort to protect my child.

  Tommy drops the immense duffel bag he hauled up here, and bends at the knees to open it with his eyes on me. “You’re huge. How far are you along?” He pulls out a purple comforter, a pillow with a matching pillowcase, a four pack of Smart Water, and a small cooler. “My cousin put this together. Can you tell?”

  “Why would I be able to tell?” I ask, wondering if this is a test.

  “He’s a little on the… stylish side.” Tommy smiles as though at some inside joke.

  It occurs to me he’s talking about his cousin’s sexual preference, something I noticed but didn’t find remarkable considering we are in San Francisco. “Right. He seemed nice.” For being a part of your devil family, I refrain from adding.

  Tommy folds the comforter in two. He lays the pillow on it and says, “Sit here.”

  I don’t have to be told twice. I was looking at that pillow like it was a chocolate cake.

  “Thank you,” I mumble, walking over to land my expanded butt down with a loud, “Ahhhh.” Glancing up at my kidnapper, I catch an amused smile. He covers it and walks away. “Can you take off these handcuffs at least?”

  He cocks an eyebrow my way. “No.”

  “Fine,” I mumble. He tosses one of the water bottles to me and I catch it.

  “Because of that.”

  “Because of what?” I ask, confused.

  “Because most girls wouldn’t have caught that.”

  I stare at him. “That’s very sexist.”

  He shrugs. “It is what it is. You caught it, and wearing handcuffs. I’m just sayin.’”

  I open the bottle with awkwardness, drawing it up my mouth with both hands. Before I can blink, it’s empty. “I guess I was thirsty,” I mumble. “How do you know about this place?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” He waits for me.

  I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t want to tell him. Resentfully, I answer, “I’m nine months. And my
lower back is aching more now than it ever has, in case you were wondering. I need to go to a hospital.”

  “Brendan, Mark, and Ross, and I used to come here with girls in college,” he announces proudly, like remembering it brings back the good old days, before he was a felon.

  Great. Now I’ve got images of Brendan and Sara Brighton making out in here, in my head. “That’s good to know,” I say, dryly.

  Tommy’s watching me like he knows what I’m thinking. “I never liked her.”

  “Who?” He doesn’t say anything. “Sara?” He nods. “Yeah, me neither. She was a self-important bitch.”

  “So he has a type,” Tommy smiles.

  “Har Har. What are we doing here, Tommy? Are you going to kill me, because I’m getting the feeling you’re not. Which is new. And weird. And don’t think I’m not grateful, because I am. But what the hell is going on?”

  His eyebrows rise over an amused grin. The thing Tommy always had going for him is his charm. He’s usually got a sparkle in his eyes like he’s thinking of a private joke twenty-four seven. That look is back, and for the first time today.

  “We’re here because I’m trying to decide if I’m taking you as hostage with me to Canada or not.”

  A piercing pain in my lower back makes me cringe. “Ow!”

  Tommy’s smile falls. “You okay?”

  With my heart rate picking up at the idea of being a hostage, I roll my eyes, losing my patience and knowing the only way to get home is cut through all of this and try and change his mind. “No! I’m not alright! I want to go home. I want to be with…” I quiet myself at the look in his eyes. “What’s your problem, Tommy? I mean, really? We’ve learned all about your family. Why hold up my bar? They said you rob strangers. Or burgle them. Or whatever. I mean, it came out that you guys were dripping with money, so why come after me? And why pull the trigger, when you said in court you never do that. Or were you lying?” He shakes his head slowly. “Then WHY?”