Throttle (Jack 'Em Up #3)

by Shauna Allen

  I rose and knelt in front of her, taking her face in my hands. I wanted, more than anything, to take this pain from her. “There’s no such thing as fair in this world, baby. We just gotta make the best of what we’re given.”

  She collapsed into my arms as I realized the truth of those words in my own life. Fair or not, Kristi and Ryder were forever interlinked with me and I’d have to find a way to make it work.

  Tori drew back and wiped her face. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. My girl is hurting.”

  We sat back down and eyed each other across her desk. “I still love you,” she said, a sad smile tilting her lips.

  “I know.” I smiled back.

  “Any closer to loving me back?” Ah, there was my sassy girl.

  I winked. “Most definitely.”

  I ruffled Ryder’s hair as he laced up his shoes. “Have a good practice, Buddy.”

  He gazed up at me with achingly familiar brown eyes. “I will. I’m gonna run real fast so Coach will let me start in our first game.”

  I smiled at him as Kristi joined us in his room. She refused to meet my eyes, her gaze warm on our son. “Ready?”

  I tried to calm my nerves and shut off the warning voice in the back of my head. I was making too big a deal out of this. One practice. He’d be playing and they wouldn’t be totally alone.

  “How are you getting there again?” I would have to put my foot down if they were catching a ride with one of her loser friends from her past life.

  Now she looked at me and I noticed the dark circles that had reappeared under her eyes. “I borrowed a friend’s truck.”

  “Right. Well, it’s our turn to bring the snacks. Let me load them up for you.”

  She nodded, but focused her attention back on Ryder.

  I grabbed the sack of chocolate chip granola bars and bottled water and went out the front door. Scouring the lot for an unfamiliar truck, I spotted a rundown red Ford with sadly chipping paint to my left. Glancing inside, I spotted Kristi’s purse and a duffel bag. Cigarette butts were stuffed in the ashtray, trash littered the floorboard, and a cassette tape was sticking out of the ancient stereo.

  I swallowed and opened the passenger door, chucking the bag in the middle of the bench seat. At least the peaches and cream air freshener masked some of the mustiness.

  When I turned, they were behind me. “All set?” I glanced at Kristi, but she was eyeballing the lot.

  “Yup.” Ryder hugged my waist.

  “Love you, Buddy.”

  Kristi ushered him into the open door and buckled him in. God, this was killing me. She closed the door and faced me defiantly. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I stuffed my fists into my pockets. “I’m gonna be at my friend, Micah’s for a bit tonight. If you guys beat me back, Ry knows where the spare key is hidden. I shouldn’t be late though.”

  “Okay.”

  I shuffled my feet, stalling. “Okay.”

  “Bye.” She spun and rounded the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  The truck cranked to life and I was relieved to hear a healthy engine ticking away under the hood. She shifted into reverse and began to back out.

  “Bye!” I waved at Ryder and his dimple shone as he grinned at me.

  I watched them rattle away and didn’t move, even when they were out of sight. Was I totally fucking this up?

  Before I could contemplate that too long, I jogged back to the condo, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed to Micah’s. Keeping busy would get me through the next couple of hours until I could see my kid again.

  I called Tori on my way over. “Hey, how’s my girl?” I asked when she answered.

  “Good. My man?” There was a smile in her voice, which made me smile, too.

  “I’m okay. Heading over to help Micah with his self-defense class flyer for the gym. Poor guy could shoot people and drive tanks for the military, but he can’t do basic computer stuff.”

  “That’s nice of you to help him. When does the class start again?”

  “I think in a couple weeks?”

  “Oh, hey, after you left school, I heard from my mom. Her appointment is Friday morning so Kendall’s flying in tomorrow.”

  “Well, I’m sorry about the circumstances, but at least you get to see your sister, right?”

  “I’m sure it’ll be one big, happy family reunion.” The smile was gone from her voice.

  “I’m sorry, baby. What can I do?”

  “You’re already doing it. Thanks for being here.”

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  We hung up and she told me she loved me again. It was on the tip of my tongue to speak the words back, but my pride held me in chains.

  Micah and I shared a pizza and a couple beers as I tinkered with his flyer. “I’m trying to talk Tori into taking your class,” I said.

  He glanced over. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It would make me feel better since that motherfucker seems to have a thing for young, pretty blondes. She’s about the only person I know . . . wait. Jewel, too. She’s a cute blonde.”

  Micah’s gaze dropped to the pizza on his plate as he slowly lifted it for a bite. My friend had never been a man of many words, but in that moment, it suddenly dawned on me why he was doing all of this. Why does any man step out of his comfort zone?

  A woman.

  I bit back a smile and magnanimously chose not to tease. Jewel was a sweet thing and if she and my friend could find something between them, more power to him.

  A couple hours later, we finished up a decently professional flyer and I stood to go. “Kristi and Ryder should be getting back. I’ll see ya at the shop tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing. Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  As I drove home, I was filled with a sense of contentment. Maybe all four of us at the shop would finally settle down. Grease monkeys finding love. It could happen.

  I steered into the condo lot, my eyes automatically searching for the faded red clunker. Good, I’d beaten them back. I couldn’t wait to hear about practice.

  The night air was humid and thick, almost cloying, as I stepped up to my stoop. The streetlight that normally illuminated the lot was out and it made the deepening twilight feel gloomy. All was quiet. Too quiet.

  I found my house key and lifted it to unlock the door, only to find it ajar.

  What the . . . ?

  I scanned the lot, but everything was still. Slowly, I pressed the door open and peered inside. Silence greeted me.

  I reached inside the door and flipped on the entryway light. My gut and jaw clenched in a painful twist as I surveyed the wreckage of my condo. My mail was scattered all over the floor from my upturned coffee table. Every drawer in the kitchen was open. My big screen TV was gone.

  Furious now, I stormed inside, hoping to catch the fucker who’d dare rob me in broad daylight. The door slammed behind me, but bounced back open and hit the wall with a violent bang. My room was next and it was about the same. Someone had rifled through my clothes and my closet door hung wide open. I poked my head in and scanned a visual inventory. Nothing much seemed to be missing . . .

  Wait a fucking minute. My heart crowded my throat and sharp ice chips slid through my veins, shoving me down the slippery slope of crazy-overprotective-dad madness. The box where I kept all of Ryder’s baby things was gone. So was my suitcase.

  “Fuck!”

  I sprinted down the hall to Ry’s room. Every one of his dresser drawers were open. And empty. His pillow was gone, so were his shoes. His Daredevil action figure and football.

  Aimlessly, I spun in a circle, as if he’d magically appear. My body went numb. Hot fear coated my stomach. My brain became crowded as a million thoughts battled it out, overwhelming me like a fried circuit board.

  I forced myself to breathe. I thought I’d be sick. I had ignored my intuition and now my worst fucking nightmare had come to life.

  My son was gone
.

  She’d taken him.

  Tori

  As it turned out, being married to a bigwig in Hollywood gave you certain benefits. Kendall’s husband, Peter, was able to make some calls to a friend who knew a friend, and got my mom in to the specialist the very next day instead of Friday. He also got my sister on the next flight to Texas.

  I was a bit shell-shocked, but as I idled outside the passenger pick-up area late that afternoon, I called the school to let them know that I wouldn’t be in the next day or two at least. Before we hung up, Mrs. Tanner managed to slide in the latest school gossip.

  “Vice Principal Myers is gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Yes. I guess his resignation was effective today. He just came in, packed up his office, and left without a word to anybody. Kinda weird.”

  “Yeah.” I’d be lying through my teeth to say I wasn’t a tiny bit relieved about that.

  We hung up and I debated calling Trace to tell him the latest about Everett and my mom, but I’d just seen him and cried on his shoulder at lunch. I’d fill him in once we had word from the doctor.

  Kendall suddenly appeared, a whirl of dark brown hair and classy even in yoga pants and an oversized USC hoodie. Her eyes, as dark as mine, scoured the waiting cars.

  I stepped one foot out and waved over Betsy’s roof. “Kendall!”

  She spotted me and smiled, tugging her hot pink suitcase behind her as she jogged over. We met on the sidewalk and hugged.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I mumbled against her shoulder.

  “Me, too.”

  Before I started blubbering, I loaded her into my car and headed home. She leaned back on the headrest with a sigh. “Flying sucks.”

  I shot her a glare. “Yeah. First class must be really horrible.”

  She smirked and smacked my arm. “Shut up. I can’t help it Peter likes to take care of me.”

  Trace and all the sweet things he did for me flashed through my mind. “No, I guess not.”

  “So, what’s the game plan?”

  My cell buzzed in the center console, but I ignored it. “Game plan?”

  “Yeah. With Mom tomorrow.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m not sure. What do you mean?”

  She tucked a leg up underneath herself and faced me. “I mean I think you and I should have a united front on all this. Mom says she doesn’t want treatment, and I think that’s a bunch of bullshit.”

  My heart sank. “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean you don’t think so? She’s too young to throw in the towel. There’re plenty of treatments out there. Peter and I can pay if that’s the issue.”

  “I don’t think that’s the problem, Kendall.”

  “Then what is?”

  My fingers tightened around the wheel until my knuckles were white. “The doctors aren’t giving her a lot of hope of beating this right now, and if the guy tomorrow says the same thing, she wants to die on her own terms rather than be miserable fighting an impossible battle. I hate it, but I can’t say that I blame her.”

  “What about Hope?”

  “What about her?”

  Now tears soaked my sister’s voice. “She’s gonna be so lost without Mom.”

  I bit my lip against the tears threatening to blur my vision. “I know. We’ll figure it out.”

  We were silent as we rolled into Baybridge, the streetlights glowing softly in the night, making it all look very Mayberry. My phone buzzed again and my sister snatched it up.

  “Who keeps texting you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, checking for herself. “Who’s Trace?”

  I swiped the phone from her hand, praying he hadn’t sent anything too sexy. I’d never live it down. “He . . . we’re seeing each other.”

  “You’ve got a boyfriend?” Her smile was all big sister shark.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated, how? You either do or you don’t.”

  The phone vibrated again against my leg.

  “Your boyfriend must really want to talk to you,” she teased.

  I shot her a glare. “I’ll call him when we get home. Alone.” I’d learned my lesson with how nosy my sister could be when we were younger. I wasn’t going to risk her embarrassing me in front of Trace.

  She laughed and turned away to study my tiny town.

  Back at the apartment, I settled Kendall into my tiny guestroom and gave her clean towels for a shower. “Go call your boyfriend back,” she teased as she sauntered away. “Then I expect you to feed me and tell me all about him.”

  Shaking my head, I waited until she locked herself in the bathroom then went to my room and checked my messages.

  Call me

  Where r u? Call me ASAP

  Please

  Butterflies suddenly nosediving my stomach, I dialed his number.

  “Tori?” His voice was high and strained.

  “Yes. What’s—?”

  “I need you . . .” His words were a jumbled mess, interspersed with what sounded like tears and several voices behind him. “. . . can you come?”

  “Sure, but I missed what you—”

  “Ryder! He’s gone. Kristi took him.”

  Oh, my God. I stuffed a knuckle in my mouth, stifling the urge to vomit. I was suddenly burning hot and icy cold all over and my tight lungs fought for air as my breathing became frantic, like I was sucking through a straw.

  “Tori?”

  “Yes.” My voice was small, torn. I bent my head toward my knees, fighting the panic attack. “I’ll be . . . I’m coming. Hold on, I’m coming.”

  I hung up and stood, finding my footing even though I felt weak. I ran down the hall and pounded on the bathroom door. “Kendall!”

  The shower cut off abruptly. “What?”

  “I’ve gotta go. Trace needs me.” I didn’t wait for an answer as I spun away and sprinted to the front door, scrambling for my keys and banging out to my car.

  I don’t remember the drive to Trace’s condo, but I was there in record time, the sight of flashing police lights making me ill all over again. I flew into a parking space and sprinted toward the commotion.

  Trace’s head was above them all. I faltered at the haggard devastation on his face. He spotted me, his green eyes, normally so full of life, were dull and lifeless. He said something and the crowd parted, allowing me through.

  I collected him into my arms. “Oh, God. What happened? What can I do?”

  He was stiff, his body trembling slightly, as if he was holding himself together by a thread. All around us, the crowd milled, authoritative voices pulling together some kind of plan, but I didn’t hear, my attention focused on Trace.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Berringer?” one of the officers said behind me.

  Trace lifted his head.

  “We’ve got roadblocks up in a twenty mile perimeter as well as an Amber Alert issued for the red truck you described. We’re organizing some teams to search nearby areas if you want to—”

  “I’m helping look for my son.” Trace’s voice was firm.

  The officer nodded, his gaze flicking to me momentarily.

  “What if he tries to call or they come back?” I asked. “Should someone be here just in case?”

  Trace seemed torn.

  “Where’re your family? Have you called them?” I rubbed his arm, making him focus on me, but he looked so lost.

  He nodded. “Mom and Dad didn’t answer and Brandi said she’d be here as soon as she could, but she’s got the kids.”

  “I’ll stay,” I said. “You go.”

  His eyes flashed to mine. “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. Go find him. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  He studied me a long moment then nodded once. “Okay.”

  I watched, my heart feeling hollow, as he followed the officer to scour a map spread out on the cruiser’s hood. One by one, everyone filed out with flashlights and maps, some in cars driving to further locations, until I was
left alone with one lone police car in the far corner of the lot, the baby-faced officer looking bored.

  Spinning, I made my way to Trace’s condo and stopped short at the door. The place was absolutely trashed and hauntingly empty. I tiptoed my way inside and my heart constricted. Papers were everywhere, the kitchen was ransacked; it was like a tornado had ripped through his home. Trace’s room was much the same way, as was Ryder’s. Tears filled my eyes at his empty bed and closet, a lone Hot Wheels car upturned in the corner the only evidence a child lived there.

  God, I hoped they found him safe. If not, Trace would be broken beyond repair.

  As I found myself back in the living room, I realized the waiting would kill me. I needed to keep busy or go insane. I called Kendall and explained the situation.

  “Oh, God,” she said, her voice a shocked whisper. “That’s horrible.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. I’m sorry I bailed on you, but make yourself at home. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Yeah, no problem. I’m gonna try and sleep some. Call if you need anything at all.”

  “I will. Thanks, sis.”

  We hung up and I collected my hair into a messy ponytail, glancing around. On my wrist, the bracelet Trace had given me just the other day caught the light and I fingered Ryder’s football pendant. I swallowed my tears and got to work cleaning up the mess. I straightened up papers, tossed out trash, righted the upturned furniture and put the kitchen back together.

  After I straightened Trace’s room, I brewed a pot of coffee and took a travel mug out to the waiting police officer.

  He glanced up from his iPhone, surprised when I knocked on his window. He rolled it down and smiled sheepishly.

  “Any news?” I asked, handing him the coffee.

  He nodded his thanks. “No. Not yet.”

  I tucked my hands into my hoodie, shivering against the night chill. Kristi better not have that baby out in the cold.

  “You should get inside,” the officer said. “I’ll let you know if there’s any news.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Back inside, I paced and sipped my own cup of coffee, cursing the slow moving clock. Where could they be? I felt so useless.