Marc nods. “Positive.”
George frowns slightly and I can almost tell what he’s thinking. He’s concerned that Joseph may still try something. It’s possible, but it’s a risk that should be taken. And I’m proud of Marc for stepping up. I’m getting goose bumps just being in the same room with all these positive vibes!
Without a word, Marc stands up and walks over to Joseph, who looks like he’s still trying to understand what’s going on. A suspenseful silence hovers over the room as Marc begins to untie the ropes.
Apparently, George is good at tying knots, because Marc isn’t having much luck.
Out of the corner of my eye, George reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a small object. Joseph’s pocket knife. We watch as he hands the knife to Marc.
“Here, try this...”
Marc nods and carefully starts sawing at the ropes. Joseph sits quietly and just watches the knife as it moves back and forth. The final thread breaks. Joseph silently rubs at his wrists while Marc kneels to cut the rope from around Joseph’s ankles.
With a low grunt, Marc stands back up. Facing Joseph, he closes the knife, holds it out to him and says, “Truce?”
Joseph meets his gaze and hundreds of thoughts pass over his features. He hesitates but nods and reaches out to take the knife. “Truce.”
I let out a breath, unaware that I had been holding it the whole time.
At that moment, Susan’s cell phone rings. I jump a little at the foreign sound. Amelia is fast asleep on her mother’s lap and it takes Susan a minute to dig in her skirt pocket for her phone. She glances at the screen and her mouth opens in surprise.
Chapter eighteen
Susan
No. It can’t be him. I shake my head and cover my mouth with my hand. Fear overtakes me at the very thought of answering his call. I know he’s angry with me because I’m not home right now.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Melody watching me with concern. “Susan, are you alright?”
I can’t answer. The phone rings again in my hand. I have to answer it, but I can’t. Not with everyone around.
George frowns. “It’s your husband, isn’t it?”
I meet his stare and I can tell my expression speaks volumes because he stands up and walks over to me. Automatically I know what he means to do.
I hold the phone closer and cry out, “No! Please don’t!”
George stops in front of me and extends his hand out. “I can talk to him for you.”
I quickly shake my head. I don’t even remember when I started crying, but a tear lands on my arm. “You’ll only make it worse.”
Marc shakes his head. “He really has a powerful hold over you, doesn’t he? The offer still stands for you to borrow my lawyer.”
Joseph scowls at him. “Enough with the fancy lawyer already.”
I feel a migraine coming on. I can’t take all this arguing, especially about Mitch. This is my problem and I have to deal with it on my own.
The phone stops ringing abruptly. I have to call him back as soon as possible. George is still in front of me. It’s kind that he offered to talk to Mitch, but it’s just not realistic. Once this is over, I’ll have to be the one to deal with my husband.
I pick Amelia up and hand her over to George. “I’ll be right back.” The last thing I need is for Amelia to wake up to her dad yelling.
George
It isn’t fair. Why do I keep getting stick with the kid? At least she’s sleeping and I don’t have to worry about keeping her entertained. I’ve got enough on my mind; namely Susan’s rat of a husband.
I would love to have a little talk with him and tell him just what I think of a spineless coward that terrorizes his wife and child.
I look down at Amelia in my arms and frown. She may be a spoiled brat, but she deserves better from her dad. I’d love a chance to give that jerk a taste of his own medicine and see how he likes it.
I let out a huff. Didn’t we just talk Joseph out of seeking revenge? I should know better, I’ve read enough crime books to know that revenge never works out. Dylan Dell likes to compare revenge to a sponge covered with chocolate icing. It sure looks good, but once you take a bite, you find out that it’s really just a dirty, soapy sponge.
While I was occupied with my thoughts, everyone left. I catch a glimpse of Joseph turning a corner and I have to question Marc’s decision to untie him. Was it wise? And on top of that, Joseph has his knife back. Words are cheap. Its actions that really count.
Marc
Since our little pow-wow ended rather abruptly, I decide to return to my office. There’s no sense in socializing more than necessary. Even though I apologized to Joseph, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t particularly like these people. I’m still good old Marc Amos and nothing will ever change that.
Once I get settled behind my makeshift desk, I check the time again and I can’t believe it’s a couple minutes after ten! Normally I would be at my office by now, enjoying my second cup of coffee. How does time fly by so quickly? How long is this lockdown going to last? Don’t they know I’m in here and I need to get to work?
It crosses my mind to call my secretary and inform her why I’m not there, but that’s like explaining myself to her. I don’t have to explain anything to anyone, least of all to a secretary who never does anything right to suit me. No, they will just have to find out for themselves.
My jaw drops as a new thought occurs, will we be on the news when this is over? I have to make a good impression and if I don’t look presentable, no one will take me or my company seriously. I hope I brought enough business cards to hand out to the news crew.
Hurriedly, I leave the office and head towards the restroom to freshen up.
Joseph
Watching Marc panic and run off to the bathrooms like a chicken with his head cut off is amusing, but I have too much on my mind to really enjoy it.
There’s one thing that should have been brought up in our conversation. What do I do now?
This obsession with avenging my mom has been all I could think about for the last eight months.
It didn’t really start until I learned that mom lost her home. During all the searching, I found out about the loan she took out. That was back in December.
I take a seat in a nearby chair so I can concentrate better. Eight months may not seem like a long time to some, but I feel like it took several years out of me. All that planning, scheming, researching, and trailing Marc took up all my free time when I wasn’t working. It totally consumed me.
So, what now? What am I supposed to do with my life? How can I pick up and go from here? Will this whole ‘I forgive you’ thing even last? Man, when I saw my knife again, I felt nothing but my old desires creeping back up. Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of my life? Battling my emotions and keeping my feelings out of my actions? I don’t know if I’m strong enough.
I could move away after this. Leave town and start over somewhere else. But I can’t leave mom. I visit her headstone every day when I can. And what would Nick say? How did he handle mom’s passing? He makes it look so easy. What am I doing wrong?
Melody
Susan has been gone for a while now. I’m really worried about her. I thought about following her when she first left, but I don’t think it’s right to spy and eavesdrop on people. Her situation is very sensitive and I have no idea how to help her.
I’ve been watching the clock on the wall and it’s been about ten minutes since Susan hurried off to the children’s area.
Should I go and check on her? I want to, but I don’t want to make things worse. Then again, is it possible for me to make things any worse for her? If anything, I could offer her a shoulder to cry on and listen to her troubles.
Floy was good at listening and I felt a lot better after sharing my problems with her. I’d like to pay it forward.
That settles it. I get up from the couch and make a beeline for the children’s section.
I
can hear her before I see her. The poor soul is huddled in a corner crying her eyes out. I don’t say a word, I just kneel down beside her and wrap her up in a hug.
My heart breaks for my dear friend. Her body is shaking so hard from sobbing. I don’t have the words to say. I just keep her company. I know she’ll talk when she’s ready.
Chapter nineteen
Susan
I’m aware that Melody is by my side, but I can’t talk to her right now. I just want to be alone.
When I returned Mitch’s call, he was furious. His first words to me were, “Where the heck are you?”
My stomach dropped when I heard the familiar rage in his tone and any ounce of strong determination I felt earlier vanished instantly. I tried to stay calm and answered his questions clearly so there would be no misunderstandings.
I explained about the lockdown and told him I was very sorry, but he started screaming at me, cursing, and calling me horrible names.
Then he accused me of lying and that I’m leaving him for another man. I was absolutely shocked and didn’t know what to say.
Then he began with the threats. “If you and Amelia don’t get home right now, I swear I’m going to drown that stupid cat.”
That’s when I started crying. What a monstrous thing for him to say. Amelia’s kitten didn’t do anything. That would break my baby’s heart. Through tears, I begged him not to hurt the cat and again told him that there wasn’t anything I could do until the police told us we could leave.
He didn’t like that and carried on some more, calling me a liar mostly. His last words were, “I’m going to kill you when I get my hands on you.”
I wipe at my puffy red eyes but the tears keep coming. Melody doesn’t try to get me to talk, she’s just sitting next to me, hugging me. I feel miserable. Mitch has threatened to break every bone in my body before, but never to kill me. It scares me to admit it, but I wouldn’t put it past him.
I feel so useless and weak right now. I am a horrible mother and I deserve to have Amelia taken away. I can’t keep her safe, I can’t even keep her cat safe. I’d never have the guts to stand up to him in person. One phone call and I’m a crying fool.
I was wrong to think earlier that men like Joseph make Mitch seem like a gentleman. Mitch is nothing but evil.
Melody releases me and gently rubs my back as she quietly asks, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
I shake my head. No one can do anything for me. I have to be the one to help myself. I’m just not strong enough. George mentioned groups that can help, but I don’t see myself having the courage to go.
Melody says, “I’m here for you, Susan. You’re not alone.”
George
I’m frowning as I pour over my notes. Amelia is asleep on the couch beside me. I had thought about going to a table and just laying her on it so I could write. But I don’t think Susan would appreciate that very much.
The last time I was able to write was after my shift of watching Joseph. That was four or five hours ago. Good grief! I’ve always wanted to spend extra time in the library, but this ridiculous!
Anyway, my chicken scratch isn’t working for me. Even the stuff I wrote from before the power went out is bad. I nearly cringe reading over it. How in the world did I ever think that this trash was gold? Normally, I’d never throw away notes or ideas, but now I crumble up the paper and toss it on the floor.
I lean forward and run my fingers through my hair. Writing can be so discouraging sometimes. It always seems to be a battle. Maybe Joseph was right, I’ll never get published or produced. I can feel Broadway slipping further and further away.
Next to me, Amelia stirs in her sleep and stretches, kicking me in the leg. Brat. I’ve never liked kids. Too noisy, messy, and they always seem to be underfoot. I’ve got enough to deal with when it comes to Stan and Ollie; my full-grown chocolate labs. They’re a handful but I don’t know what I’d do without them. I’m sure Amelia would love them.
Marc
I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror before leaving the restroom. Although my clothes are wrinkled and rumpled, my hair is once more slicked back, and my face is clean. Who knows, maybe the disheveled look will attract a whole new group of potential clients.
I return to my temporary office and settle down behind my desk. I know I should work more on that upcoming presentation but if we are to be interviewed after this lockdown, I need to have a speech of sorts prepared.
I lean my elbows on the desk and close my eyes. It always helps me to visualize a setting. I try to picture myself standing beside a beautiful brunette reporter. In front of us, is the cameraman and the local populace is tuning in.
I lean over the desk and start writing down notes.
“My name is Marc Amos, owner of the Hilltop Banking and Loans company.”
No, too simple.
“Marc Amos here, owner of the successful Hilltop Banking and Loans company. Thanks to my level head and cleverness I was able to survive and lead a group of pitiful and bedraggled citizens just like you, through a lockdown.”
Close, but too much like a sappy commercial. Besides I don’t think the others will much appreciate the honest description of themselves.
Instead I’ll try to think up some answers to possible questions. What would a reporter ask? Well, an obvious one may be, how long did the lockdown last?
“It was an agonizing…”
I freeze suddenly. Hours? What if it takes longer than just hours? What if we are trapped for days? Months? Or…
I let out a breath and try to reassure myself. “Calm down, Amos. We won’t be here much longer.”
I wish I could convince myself. I guess I’m too smart for my own good.
Joseph
George would hate me right now but I don’t care. I need to get away from everyone and figure some things out for myself.
While no one was watching, I went upstairs. Man, this brings back memories. Hours ago, I was desperate and doing things I’d never thought I’d ever do.
I walk past Marc’s fort and smirk. For someone who likes to think he’s professional, he has some childish ideas.
Back in the book aisles, I end up at the spot where I grabbed Melody. The book she threw at me is still on the floor. Picking it up, I read the title: “Turn over a New Leaf in Ten Days”
I shake my head. That may be a book worth reading if I enjoyed reading. I lay it on the shelf and keep walking around.
I need to make some hard decisions. The way I see it, I spent all my time trying to avenge mom’s death. Now that that stage of my life is over, I need to fill it with something else. I was so busy trying to destroy another person’s life. Maybe I could do a complete one eighty and try to honor mom instead.
But how? I know mom would like the idea of that, but I don’t feel much like helping people right now. I just want to crawl in a hole and stay there forever.
The void I’m feeling inside is going to take a lot of time to fill. Maybe it will never be filled.
Melody
I’m thankful Susan is not as upset as she was before. Her breakdown affected me strongly and we wept together.
Gently I offer, “I’m willing to listen.”
Susan shrugs and rubs at her eyes. A hiccup escapes her. She’s still sniffling a lot and trying to calm herself down. I wait patiently for her to reply. I’m not going anywhere.
Susan sighs tiredly and wipes her nose. “I’m a big baby.”
I shake my head and frown. “Don’t say that! You’re not a baby. There’s no shame in crying.”
She slowly looks up at me and I can see she’s a broken woman. “You said you would just listen.”
I open my mouth to apologize but stop. Sometimes offering to listen, means staying silent. I nod and wait for her to continue.
“I was an idiot to think I could do something to stop Mitch. I’m such a sniffling coward.” Susan wipes away a falling tear and looks at me. “You said you haven’t talked to your mom
in a couple of years? I haven’t told my mom about Mitch. As far as she knows, I married prince charming.” She snorts in disdain and shakes her head. “I’m such a failure.”
I want so badly to correct her, but I promised to listen. I know ranting helps, but I don’t think she’s getting anywhere spreading lies about herself. I send up a silent prayer for her.
Susan continues. “Sometimes I wake up and it’s like the previous day was all a dream. That Mitch really wasn’t abusive. Other times I have dreams where our family is perfect. I wake up crying, knowing that it was only a dream. Why does he hate me so much? What did I do wrong? I wouldn’t mind it if I really was to blame for something, but he treats me like my entire existence is a mistake. Why? I try to be a good wife and a good mother. What am I doing wrong?”
Does she want me to answer or were those all rhetorical questions? In response I rub her back comfortingly. She lowers her head and starts rocking back and forth.
I’m about to say something, when she speaks up. Her voice is muffled, but I hear her clearly. “He threatened to kill me the next time he sees me.”
My jaw drops and I can’t remain silent any longer. “He will not kill you. We won’t let him. The police will be here and we will tell them what he said.”
Chapter twenty
Susan
No one understands. While she’s talking, I can only shake my head. “We? No, this is something I have to do on my own, and I can’t.”
I sniff loudly and rub my nose. I wish I had a tissue right now.
Melody continues, “You can’t always be brave on your own. Sometimes we need to lean on others.”
24 Hour Lockdown Page 10
