Vengeance On the Run

by Wylder Stone

  Whipping her head in his direction, she asked, “You’ve babysat her?”

  “Well, not entirely by myself. But she likes me, too. I’m good with kids. They get me, and I get them. It works.” He shrugged. “How hard can this be? Just a couple of guys and a dog.”

  When Trista didn’t say anything back, Owen showed his final hand to win the game, or babysitting job. “I suppose we can always go to work with you again.”

  Her eyes went wide when she recalled how long the day felt with him around every corner and his damn whistle. Trista started to walk off, coffee in hand. “No. You’re right. Mason is easy.”

  Smiling ear to ear, Owen knew that little bargaining chip would win him the game. She didn’t want him around any more than he wanted to run the play structure again. Those kids were not easy.

  “Okay then,” he said while sending a text message. “Dante is taking Becca into work and staying with her. You’re riding in, and home, with them. Don’t go anywhere or leave without him and Becca. I’ll send an extra body over for support, so Dante doesn’t have to be in two places at once.”

  Popping her head back in the kitchen with one curious brow raised, Trista said, “You planned this, didn’t you? A day off with a kid and your new dog.”

  Of course she’d think that. It was more of that denial. She knew him well enough to know he didn’t take days off. Ever.

  Owen tossed his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  7

  It wasn’t long after Trista left before Mason woke and plopped himself in the kitchen across from Owen. He’d been in touch with his team while Mason slept and going through emails from his phone. Mason stared him down without a single word or expression other than the blank one he was wearing. Owen finally broke the silence, unsure if this was typical or something bad was about to happen. Maybe the kid didn’t like him as much as he’d thought, or worse, worried when he didn’t see his mom.

  “Rough night?” he asked.

  With his head resting between his two hands, Mason didn’t give anything away and replied with a simple, “No.”

  “Oh. Your mom had to go to work for a while. It’s just you and me,” Owen shared, surprised the kid hadn’t asked for his mom yet.

  “And Killer,” the boy corrected.

  “Right and…the dog.” Killer raised his head from the food bowl when Owen referred to him as the dog. “Killer.”

  “So,” Owen started, changing the subject, trying to get the kid to talk. “What do you normally do when you get up?”

  Mason just shrugged. “Eat.”

  This was going to be harder than Owen thought. Mason was not a morning person, and Owen didn’t know what to do next. “Okay. What do you eat?”

  “Cereal.”

  “Okay. Where is the cereal?” Somehow Owen felt like he had been set up. This was the bear Trista said Mason would be. The kid was making it uncomfortable.

  “Kitchen.”

  Looking through the cabinets to find the cereal, Owen came up short. “As it should be. Mind helping me out? I’m not seeing cereal.”

  “It’s on the fridge.”

  “You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”

  Mason shrugged.

  Owen grabbed the cereal from the top of the refrigerator and milk from inside. “Got it.”

  Shuffling through the cabinets, Owen found the bowls and silverware and started serving breakfast.

  “STOP!” Mason yelled, holding his hands out in front of him. “Milk goes in the glass!”

  “Oh, no problem. I can pour you a glass, too,” Owen reassured him before attempting to pour milk over the cereal.

  “STOP! In the glass,” Mason repeated with an alarmed expression.

  “Okay…and in the cereal too, right?” Owen paused, unsure what he was missing.

  “No. I like the cereal crunchy. Then I drink the milk by itself,” Mason explained as if everyone ate it that way.

  “That makes absolute sense. Everything is better when it’s…crunchy,” Owen agreed, not sure how else to respond to the discovery of a Mason quirk.

  With the bowl of dry cereal in Mason’s hands, Owen rounded the breakfast bar and took the seat next to him with his own bowl of dry cereal. “What do you normally do after breakfast?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They were back to short answers, “Do you…watch TV?”

  Sitting up straight, he spoke matter-of-factly. “I can only watch TV for thirty minutes after dinner.”

  “Wow. Okay. How about a little hike? We can look for icicles and take Killer with us.”

  Suddenly awake at the mention of an adventure with the dog, Mason piped up with an excited, “Yes!”

  Mason ate quickly and got himself ready while Owen was packing a backpack that he’d found in the room's closet.

  “What should we pack, kid?”

  “Crayons!” Mason said.

  “We won’t be coloring in the woods. Haven’t you gone on a hike before?”

  Mason shook his head.

  “Well, we’ll need some snacks! Never go into the forest without snacks in case we get lost,” Owen said, rummaging through the pantry and stashing his findings in the backpack.

  Mason ran to the refrigerator. “Water? ’Cause we have snacks?”

  “Good one,” Owen said, taking the waters from him.

  Mason clapped his hands in excitement, proud of his contribution. “What else, buddy?”

  Owen was pleased with Mason’s enthusiasm over their hike together. He just might score some points after all.

  They were well into their hike through the trails that traced the lake. Those trails also led to a nearby waterfall, but Mason was still a bit small to make that hike, especially with the colder weather and semi-frozen ground. For his first hike, Mason did pretty good maneuvering a few tricky turns and climbs, staying just within the tree line to enhance the adventure, but never very far from home.

  They made it to the creek, which was fed by the waterfall above and ended in the lake just below them. Mason stopped and began to pace along the stream’s edge, just behind the rocky border someone had added. When a hop in his step became too noticeable, Owen became curious. The kid looked guilty of something.

  “What’s wrong, kid? You alright?” With his head slightly tilted to one side in confusion, he was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Nope!” Mason said. He seemed more agitated, his hop becoming more rigorous.

  “No?” Owen knelt beside him and looked him over, trying to find the problem. “You look fine. What’s wrong?”

  Big, worried eyes met Owen’s, “I drank all my water.”

  Messing his hand through the boy’s hair, Owen put his mind at ease. “That’s okay. I have more.”

  “No!” Mason sharply said, now dancing in place. “I have to go potty!”

  Relieved it was something simple, Owen stood back up and turned around. “Oh. Then go.”

  Mortified by the instruction he received, Mason quickly fired back, “In my pants?”

  “No. Just pick a tree and go,” Owen said over his shoulder.

  Still confused and worried, Mason was on the verge of an accident that wouldn’t fare well in the cold temperatures or with the kid’s mom. Mason still didn’t understand what to do.

  Owen knelt. “Mason, just find a bush, a tree, or even a big rock, and pretend it’s a toilet. Just pee on it.”

  Oddly, permission to pee all over nature brought joy to small children, Mason specifically. With eyes wide in excitement, Mason giggled. “Really?”

  Owen nodded. “Really.”

  Owen gave the boy his space while Mason sought out the perfect spot to christen the forest. The loud sigh of relief let Owen know the instructions were clear, and there was no longer an emergency. Crisis averted.

  Though they hadn’t been gone long, Owen didn’t want to push it. They had a great time, but it was time to make their way back. They’d killed plenty of time and ke
pt busy, which was the goal. Though he didn’t show any signs, Mason had to be tired, and some rest was likely in order. Or that’s how Owen assumed things worked for kids his age.

  They finally ventured past the tree line to the lake’s shore that ran behind Tyson and Becca’s house. Owen’s smile faded when, off in the distance, he saw Tayler’s police SUV parked in front of Trista’s with its lights on. It dawned on him that the other cars scattered around, haphazardly parked, were those of his brothers. Panic raced through him – Trista.

  Needing to move faster than Mason was able to travel, Owen scooped the little guy up in one arm and began to run.

  “Look! Uncle Tayler is at my house!” Mason said, full of excitement while Owen’s heart sank. “He has the lights on!”

  Trying to keep his cool, and of course avoid frightening Mason, he spoke as if it were no big deal that the cavalry was parked ahead. “Yep. Sure looks like it. Let’s see what everyone is doing there.”

  While Mason seemed pleased to see the police car, Killer ran alongside them, barking, and Owen did all he could to keep it together. He was already scolding himself. He should’ve taken Trista to work himself. Something happened, and it was his fault for letting her out of his sight. What had he done?

  “Trista?” Owen yelled as he ran across the yard and again when he came through the front door. “Tris…”

  He stopped at the entry when all eyes shifted to him and Trista herself, seemingly unharmed, charged him.

  “Oh, my God! Mason!” Tears consumed her as she grabbed her son from Owen’s arms, sobbing.

  It was at that moment Owen realized what had happened – what he had done. They weren’t there because something happened to Trista. They were there because Trista got home, and Mason was missing.

  He hadn’t called or left a note. He didn’t tell anyone where they were. He didn’t think to. Owen just broke all of his own rules. Any trust he may have gained was gone because he made a mistake. A big one.

  The fear in Trista’s eyes and terror in her expression crushed him because it mirrored what Owen felt when running on the lake's shore, thinking she had been harmed. He couldn’t seem to stop hurting her.

  “Tris, I am so sorry.” Tayler and his brothers all stood with arms crossed, unimpressed with his weak apology. He broke protocol and knew better. It was reckless and careless.

  “We were on a short little hike up the trail. We weren’t gone that long at all. I didn’t… God, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  “You’re right. You didn’t think. Owen, you come in here waving red flags, telling everyone to stick together and stay in touch. That we’re all in danger. I thought…” A sob escaped her, and she squeezed Mason a little tighter and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, Tris. I’m so sorry. I should have left a note or called it in, so someone knew. The woods are basically the backyard here, and we weren’t far. I didn’t think how that would look if anyone came looking for us. It was wrong and irresponsible. Especially given the situation.”

  “I peed on a tree,” Mason said, breaking the tension. He pushed away from his mother’s grip and addressed the room.

  “You what?” Tris asked.

  “Just like a man, Mama! If you have to go potty in the woods, you just whip it out and go. You don’t get in trouble either.”

  The men began to snicker, not only at Mason’s enthusiasm but also at how much more trouble Owen was in now.

  “Is that so? Just…whip it out, huh?” Trista’s side-eye glare was fixed on Owen.

  “You can go in the stream too. But you can’t drink the water or touch it if you do.” The boy’s enthusiasm tugged at his mother’s expression, forcing her to grin. Mason had a great day, was safe, and had a buddy.

  Teaching the boy to piss in the woods wasn’t going to win Owen any fans, but the excitement he had while sharing about his day did. Even if it hadn’t helped to get Owen out of trouble, it was worth it because the kid had fun spending time with him, and that made Owen feel some kind of way.

  “Can I go outside with Killer? I think he wants to go potty in the bushes?”

  “Sure, but the dog better be the only one peeing on anything outside. Little boys go potty in the house.”

  Mason only laughed and followed his dog outside, and an agent trailed them.

  “That’s our cue,” James said, stepping forward. “Since everything is good here, we should take off.”

  He walked over to Trista and offered a hug. Tayler and the rest of the Force brothers followed. She offered each of them a thank you, grateful for their help in her time of need. If anything good could come of their little drill, it was that help was plentiful and never far away. They had just proved that.

  Owen offered his thanks too but didn’t receive the same response. His team was disappointed in how cavalier his actions were. Intentional or not.

  After closing the door after the guys, Owen turned to face Trista. He knew he had it coming and rightfully so.

  “I really am sorry, Tris.”

  “I know you are, and since he’s fine, I forgive you. Owen, you have to understand, that little boy is my world. He is absolutely everything to me.”

  “I know he is. I never meant to scare or worry anyone. When I saw the lights flashing and the vehicles outside, I thought something happened to you.”

  “Owen…”

  He held up a hand, asking for the opportunity to finish what he desperately needed to say. “The thought of anything happening to you and not being here to protect you and Mason, I… I… there aren’t words. So I can only imagine what you thought when we weren’t here. And I’m sorry.”

  Tears got the best of her as the adrenaline and anger settled into a calmer emotional state. “It was the worst feeling. Knowing everyone is okay, I’m glad you two had a good time. Mason has really taken to you.”

  “He’s a cool kid.”

  “He is, and you’re his buddy. Owen, he’s just a little boy. Mason can’t handle heartbreak like an adult. He won’t understand if you’re just gone one day.”

  “Trista, I said I wasn’t leaving.”

  “Today. You aren’t leaving today.”

  “Not tomorrow. Not the next day or the day after that. I’ll say it over and over until you believe me.”

  “I guess we’ll see. But after Mark, there could be another piece of your past that needs addressing. There’s no way for you to anticipate that. Please just keep that in mind.” Trista poked his chest, trying to lighten the mood while still driving her point home. “You hurt my boy, and Mark Thomas will be the least of your problems.”

  Owen watched Trista leave the room. He’d let her down, his team down, and himself. She hollered for Mason and Killer from the back door. He wouldn’t let any of them down again.

  8

  The days passed quickly, but the nights were long. Trista woke most nights, battling the same nightmare, and Owen came running every time. Having him near put her more at ease and calmed her quickly when he’d sit at her side. Trista needed him. She felt safe at night with him nearby, even if the nightmares still plagued her. But when morning came, she would push him away with her guard firmly back in place.

  Though only days had passed, they quickly fell into a routine. Up early, coffee first thing, then Owen would shadow her for the rest of the day, never letting her or Mason out of his sight. Then back home for dinner, a TV show, and bed. Then they’d start all over again. It was regimented, mechanical, and very unremarkable as the looming threats stayed afar. At least for now.

  Owen’s demeanor became tense, posture rigid, and he wore a look of fury on his face as he spoke on the phone. He dropped his white-knuckled fist to the kitchen counter with a loud thud, and said, “Give me ten, I’ll be there,” before hanging up the phone.

  “Owen?” Trista questioned quietly, afraid to know what had happened.

  “That was Tayler.”

  “And?”
<
br />   “And he was driving through town and noticed the lights on at Lalapalooza.”

  “We don’t open for a few hours.”

  “Exactly. Someone had been there. He’s there waiting for us now. We need to get down there and see what kind of mess was made.”

  “Oh, no…” she whispered, trying to overcome the fear threatening to get the better of her. “I’ll call Becca. We can leave Mason with her. I don’t want to scare him.”

  “I’ll meet you outside. I’m calling the team to meet us there.”

  “You think it was Mark…” A statement, not a question.

  “I think it’s odd that an indoor playground in a place like Bear Springs was broken into, so yes, it may be Mark.”

  Jackson and Troy were already at Lollapalooza when Owen and Trista arrived. James was already accessing nearby security video feeds remotely. He was searching for clues, and they didn’t even know what crime had been committed.

  “They only tossed the office,” Troy said, nodding to the scattered papers littering the space. “Looking for money, maybe?”

  “Maybe, but the safe hasn’t been tampered with from what I can tell,” Jackson surmised. “I assume this is where any money would be stored?”

  Trista nodded, unable to say a word. There wasn’t a single paper left in its rightful place. They were tossed all over the office.

  Troy shook his head in disgust. “Who breaks in and tosses a kiddie playground?”

  “No one from town,” Tayler responded, angry someone did this right under his nose. “We don’t have problems like this.”

  Troy snorted. “Except for that one time when Ember went missing. Oh, and when Trey Boston ran into some trouble. Then there was—”

  Tayler cut him off. “I get it, Force. We aren’t immune to trouble. It’s just few and far between and never anything like this. This is bizarre. It’s a kid playground. What purpose does it serve? And I’m guessing there isn’t much money in that safe, not that they went for it. What could possibly be in those papers of value to anyone?”