by Trixie More
His heart stuck in his throat. There were two cars between them, if she fell or jumped, they would run her over.
“Oh no. Dorothy,” he said. “Stay in the damn trunk.” He rammed down on the gas.
Dorothy felt herself slide across the trunk as the car turned. She braced herself with her feet, and prayed for dear life.
“Sir, ma’am, are you in a car right now?”
“Yes, yes,” she cried despite the uselessness of it. Damn it, she was going to have to save herself. Again. This shit was getting old.
How the hell was she going to pull the release tab? She considered rolling to her belly and trying to raise her arms high enough, but she could tell the angle wouldn’t allow her to pull down hard enough. Her mouth was taped, so she couldn’t bite it. Her feet were her only option. She sucked in her belly and lifted her knees to her chest, her shins scraping on the underside of the trunk lid. Twisting back and forth until her toes were lined up with the tab, sliding her toe through, she grabbed the glowing triangle just as she was thrown to the driver’s side. She was clutching the tab between her feet as she slammed into the side and the trunk release sprung. The truck flew open in a rush of sound. The car started to weave.
Wind and light. Her hair flew into her eyes. Behind her, the dispatcher continued to call to her. Dorothy crawled to the opening and raised up on her knees. A park was on the driver’s side. The street had bi-directional traffic and the BMW kept leaving its lane, swerving to the left and back, in and out of oncoming traffic. Sirens were wailing to her left and somewhere ahead of the car.
She looked straight back, estimating the speed, working herself up to jump from the trunk. Behind the BMW, an engine roared. Car horns began to shriek from every direction. A streak of red, off to her right, appeared just as she was flung over the edge of the trunk. Doug had jammed on the brakes, and Dorothy’s stomach was lying on the edge of the trunk, her bound wrists behind her back, head bouncing against the bumper, her hair streaming out behind the car. She had nothing to push against; she tried arching her back, but she slid, and she bashed her nose into the car. Blood streamed from her nose, making it harder to breathe. Her hips lifted and her body weight started to pull her forward. Panicked, she thrashed her torso backward, scissoring her legs, pressing her ass down as she watched the asphalt fly by beneath her face.
A car merged in behind them, tires squealing, as the driver tried to slow down in tandem with the BMW.
What a thought. She might die from being rear ended. Dorothy cringed against the car and dragged herself backward, trying to hold her head up as it came over the edge, back into the trunk. The lid slammed down on her and bounced up, came down again and sprang open again. She was thrown back through the opening as the car lurched forward and this time, she saw Ed.
He was behind her, the red hood of the Mustang just inches from the trunk. Behind the windshield, his eyes were wide and his mouth was moving. He looked terrified. She could see the knuckles of one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm was thrust outside the window and he was waving for her to get down.
A small motor sound came through to her just as she realized the trunk was closing. Doug must have pressed the remote close. She looked back at Ed and shook her head. No way was she getting locked in again. Who the hell knew if she could pull that damn triangle again? She pressed up with the top of her head and the trunk stopped closing.
Blood splashed down her dress. Please, please let me breathe, she thought. She blew out through her nose as hard as she could, blood sprayed and then she pulled in a breath. One of her nostrils was clear.
The car was slowing, she could feel it and hear the wail of the sirens, very close now. She struggled to stay on her knees. Behind her, she could see relief flood Ed’s face as the Mustang and the BMW came to stop. She could see the rapid movement of Edward’s arms as he slammed the car into park and opened his door. The sound of his voice shouting her name came to her first, and then he was there, reaching into the trunk, fingers grabbing at her waist. There were car doors opening around them. Sounds of voices. She felt her body actually moving toward Ed and she realized with horror that the BMW was backing up, into Ed, into the Mustang.
The pain was incredible. His knee exploded into a bright ball of fire. Hands clutched at his arms and torso, trying to pull him out from between the cars. Edward ground his teeth and gripped Dorothy to him tighter. She was in his arms; he could hear her but he couldn’t make out the words. Around him, a sea of strangers surged forward, hands pushing on the BMW. A gap opened up and his right leg came free in a rush, leaving him hopping on his left leg and bouncing against the chest of a man in a white turban. Teeth gleamed in the man’s face as he grimaced. It was he who had been pulling Edward out. Clutched in Edward’s arms, Dorothy’s feet trailed over the hood of the Mustang until finally the two of them were free, wrapped in the arms of the turbaned man. Edward felt the moment when her toes hit the pavement, scrambling for purchase and taking her weight from him. He grabbed at her dress, seizing her against him once more.
“Her mouth …” the stranger propping him up said.
“Oh God, my Dorothy,” Edward heard himself babbling as he peeled the tape from her face. When it came loose, she gasped for air, huge gulps. He hugged her.
“Her hands …” again, the stranger behind him.
Ed leaned back from her, balancing against the man behind him and found her wrists zip tied.
“I need a knife,” he called, just as his right foot settled on the hard asphalt of Fort Washington Avenue. Colors exploded behind his eyes and he struggled to stay conscious. Car horns called out the complaints of frustrated New York drivers caught behind the them.
“He’s hurt, somebody help him,” Dorothy cried from far away. Hands guided him around the Mustang, between cars, to the sidewalk. Beside him was his Dorothy, his hand securely wrapped around her arm. An EMT appeared on his right and the strong hands of the turban wearing stranger let him go. He never saw the man again.
It was unbelievable pain but it could have been so much worse. Ed reluctantly let Dorothy go as the EMTs released her wrists, checked her condition and loaded her into the back of an ambulance. He could hear her voice rising from behind him and then they were loading him into the same ambulance.
“Yes, yes,” she was saying as she patted his face. “You’re OK, you’ll be OK.”
“Agh. I thought I lost you, lady.”
“Shh, let them work on your leg.” The EMT cut his jeans above the knee. Edward saw stars when they brushed against the black, blooming lump that had been his knee.
Outside the ambulance, two officers escorted someone toward a cruiser. Edward pushed the EMT aside and leaned toward the door. It was that fucking redhead. The man had a patch of ruined skin on his calf. Ed’s blood ran cold.
“Who the hell is that?” He swung to Dorothy and his rage subsided. Her beautiful face was swollen, her right eye was black and her poor nose was puffy and bruised. Blood still clung to her chin. He twisted toward her and used his sleeve to gently wipe at her face.
“She needs ice for her face,” he said.
“If you would sit still, we’ll take care of both of you.” The EMT gave him a gentle shove and he watched in silence as they tended to Dorothy’s face and his leg. Over the EMT’s shoulder, his woman mouthed the words I love you. Edward’s jaw tensed. She loved him and right, the fuck, outside of this ambulance, was the man who had stuffed her into the trunk of a car. His thoughts must have shown on his face because Dorothy started shaking her head no. He should stay right here with her. He should. Dorothy’s eyes went wide. Edward pushed the EMT aside and lurched to the back of the vehicle.
“Ed, don’t,” Dorothy was calling. “Damn it.”
Falling off a roof couldn’t have hurt any worse than that three-foot drop to the pavement. Edward had sort of thrown himself out and then collapsed against the chrome bumper until he got his leg under him. By then Dorothy was at the back of the ambulance.
/>
“Stay there, Dorothy. I mean it,” he said. Of course, he could hear her trying to climb down, but by then he was hobble hopping after the bastard who had tried to kidnap her. He was furious but more than that, there was something else about Doug Lloyd, something about Dorothy in danger and Doug that made him frightened as hell and angry as a bear.
“Ed!”
He ignored Dorothy and pushed his way over to the cruiser, where an officer had just opened the rear door. Lloyd was starting to lower himself into the car, the officer’s hand on the top of his head.
“Hey!” Edward got within a yard of the cruiser. The prisoner turned and looked him full in the eyes. Recognition roared through him. “You!” Lloyd was the man who’d raped him? He launched himself at the man and managed to get a hand around his elbow, yanking him off balance. “It’s you, and you put her in a trunk?!” Ed jerked on the arm in his hand and Doug spun, falling to his knees on the payment. One of New York’s finest put himself in front of Ed and gave him a shove backwards. Using his bad leg to catch himself created a chain reaction of pain and fury. Ed craned his neck to see around the blue uniform. A hand tugged at his elbow, it had to be Dorothy, as Ed managed to make eye contact with Doug Lloyd. “You fucking wrecked my life! You fucking assaulted me!”
Doug was rising to his feet, his lips pulled back in a snarl, hands cuffed behind his back. “You never could just let it go, could you? I made one mistake in my life and you couldn’t just let it go. And of all the women in New York, you had to start dating her!”
“So you put her in the trunk?” he bellowed. “That was your fuckin’ answer? I’m going to bury you, Lloyd.” He lunged again, but this time the officer was ready for him, stepping between the men and pushing Ed back.
“Sir, step back.” The officer in front of him started to walk him backward. His face looked serious.
“That man assaulted me and kidnapped my girlfriend!”
“Ask yourself what made you what you are today! Think about that,” Doug yelled. “You should be grateful!”
“You fucking bastard!”
“You can’t prove anything, Walker,” Lloyd was bellowing now, his mouth wide, face red.
“I can damn well prove you kidnapped her!”
“That’s all you can prove.” The car door shut and Doug Lloyd was locked behind a closed window.
Standing in the road, a crowd of New Yorkers watching from behind the police, Ed froze in shock as the implications of Lloyd’s statement rang in his ears. You should be grateful … Ed’s skin crawled.
A gentle hand stroked his arm. Dorothy.
Edward turned around and looked at Dorothy. “You knew?”
“Ed, I suspected, but I wasn’t sure. He used to have a tattoo on his leg. I saw it once, a long time ago. But now, it’s gone.”
He couldn’t believe it. “You saw what he did to me. Why would you get within a hundred yards of that animal?” How could she do that?
“Well I didn’t think he was going to kidnap me!” She practically rolled her eyes at him. He wanted to strangle her. And marry her. And strangle her. He threw his hands up in frustration.
“Ed?”
“What!”
“Can I go back to the ambulance now?”
He looked at her. Really looked at her and his heart clenched.
“Of course. Yes,” he said. He looked over his shoulder and saw Lloyd, his eyes staring into Ed’s from behind the glass and the expression he saw there stopped him a moment. Lloyd looked … anguished.
Dorothy tucked her shoulder under Ed’s armpit and wrapped her arm around his waist and he let her lead him on, away from Lloyd and toward the ambulance.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” he muttered. From the corner of his eye, he could see her cheek rise. She was smiling.
“You know, I really feel like I got a lot done this week.”
Chapter 25
The hospital emergency room was busy but not packed, after all, it was still mid-morning. Dorothy couldn’t believe it was the same day still. She and Edward were separated by a thin curtain between their beds. At least, they would be if he would stay in bed. The thin, yellow curtain to her left slid back.
“Have them leave this open, would ya?” Edward was grumbling.
“I’m right here even if the curtain’s closed,” she replied with a half grin. She stopped immediately though. It kinda hurt to smile. Bashing your face into the bumper of a BMW put laugh lines right into perspective. She was never going to hold back a smile again.
She peered at him around the cold-pack she was holding to her face. His hair kept sliding forward over his brow and he kept pushing it back. He had on the jeans with one leg cut off and his Mets shirt was splashed with blood.
“You must have left after our phone call even though I told you not to bother,” she observed. She was rewarded by a thunderous scowl.
“Did you think I was going to wait until dinner to see you? Today?”
“How did you find me?” She still couldn’t believe he’d been there. Hanging on for dear life, looking up and seeing him in the Mustang had seemed like both a miracle and a certainty. If anyone was going to come and try to save her, besides herself, it would be him. She grimaced.
“I went to that coffee shop to see if I could catch you there.” He pushed his hair back. “I looked out the window and there you were, across the street. Next thing I knew, that car was pulling away and you were gone.” He looked at her feet, toes poking through the rips in her stockings. “I was standin’ there holding your shoe and an old lady told me she’d seen you pushed into the trunk.
This time she couldn’t hold a grin back. “You found my shoe? And did the old lady say ‘bibbity boppity boo’?
His intelligent, wonderful, fabulous brown eyes looked puzzled at that.
“Never mind,” she said. “I just love you, is all.”
He hobbled across, leaned over her, brushing her lower lip carefully, gently cupping the back of her neck.
“Move over,” he said, and he settled himself on the bed. He stared at her with the strangest look on his face. Moments later he was up again, hopping from the bed to the end of the curtained space, holding onto the back of a chair, looking up and down the aisle at the carts, equipment and nurses.
“What are you doing, Ed? Come back here, get off that leg,” she demanded. Of course, he ignored her. “You are one man who should not be given pain killers,” she called after him as he hopped off around the corner. She could hear him being his best belligerent self out in the aisle.
“Hey, nurse, give me something round, like a circle, would you?”
He came hopping back as a nurse, wearing periwinkle scrubs and a pleasant smile, tried to shoo him back to his bed. He hopped over to Dorothy’s bed instead. “Do you have anything?”
“Whaddaya mean?” Her voice became muffled as she moved behind Dorothy and looked into the cupboards on the wall. “Like this?”
She held out an id bracelet, showing how it could bend around a wrist into a circle.
Ed glanced over at her as he maneuvered around the bed. “No, too big. But you got the idea.” He was standing by the side of the bed, holding onto the rail with one hand, the other cupping Dorothy’s cheek.
The nurse’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with a delicious secret. “I know exactly what!” She held up one finger. “I’ll be right back.” The sound of her plastic clogs faded.
“What do you need?” Dorothy asked.
“You, Dorothy,” he said, brushing her hair back and tucking it behind her ear. “When I saw you falling out of that trunk, I thought that was it for me.”
“You mean, you thought that was it for me,” Dorothy teased.
The nurse was back, still smiling. She showed something to Ed, keeping her hand low. “What about this?”
Ed glanced over. “Perfect.” He closed his fist over something and then turned all his attention back to Dorothy. His face went slack and he stood up straighter
.
“Dorothy Johansen?” His face was serious. The nurse was doing a little jig behind him.
Dorothy’s freakin’ heart FLIPPED. No way.
“Yes?”
“I love you more than anything on this earth.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Her face was going to be a double God-awful mess.
“Oh my God,” the nurse yelped. Dorothy could see her patting her hands together, silently clapping.
“And you know,” Ed said, “how much I love this earth.”
Dorothy laughed. “I do know that, mister.”
He hitched closer to her, hopping a scant inch forward, keeping his hand on the back of Dorothy’s neck.
“And I can’t imagine living one more day without you. In fact, I’m not going to let go of you until you agree to marry me.”
He looked at her and must have already seen his answer, because his eyes got that look she loved the best, the one where he beamed affection, acceptance and good humor at her. The one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. The one that made her feel safe and loved. His beautiful mouth smiled slightly.
“Dorothy Johansen, will you marry me?”
Another nurse sneaked in behind Dorothy and stuffed a tissue into Dorothy’s hand. She blew her nose.
She looked at Ed and her chest felt like it was stuffed so full of love that it might burst. She sniffled and blew her nose again.
Ed’s face started to look worried. He seemed to think of something and he pushed back from the bed, struggling to lower himself to the tile floor.
“No!” Dorothy cried, reaching out to stop him.
He froze. “No?”
He straightened up. “You won’t marry me?”
Oh God, she hadn’t meant that.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant.”
Now he just looked confused. The nurse actually laughed in glee.
“No, Ed. I meant, don’t get on your knees.” Dorothy pulled out of his grip and slid out of bed with the nurse behind her hustling to wheel the IV unit around the bed. A crowd had started to form at the end of the curtains. Dorothy got on her knees on the cold tile floor, palms flat on Ed’s thighs. He looked down at her, confused.
