by Jess Bentley
She takes a slow, deep breath, and sets her hands on the counter, as if she’s trying to prove she has nothing to hide.
“All right. You know that I was really sick, and the doctors told me I was going to die. Multiple doctors told me this. That there was no hope. My life was over. That was why I thought there was no harm in taking the money from the loan sharks…”
“Yes, we’ve been over this. I’m going to find those bastards this week and…” She holds up a hand and cuts me off.
“This isn’t about the money, Pierce. This is about something else. This is about… our daughter.”
It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Everything starts to spin, and I begin to feel dizzy, sick, unhinged. Like the world isn’t spinning on the right axis anymore and I’m about to float away.
“What do you mean ‘our daughter?’ Because we’re together, right? You want to be Chloe’s mother?” I’m grasping at straws. Hoping for any other answer than the obvious one.
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Pierce. Chloe is my little girl. Yours and mine. When they told me there was no way they were going to be able to save me, I didn’t know what to do. I was desperate. I couldn’t leave her with Marie and Sal; they are even more broke than me, and they don’t have the resources to take care of a child. I didn’t want her to end up in foster care, so the obvious answer was to make sure she was raised by the one parent she had left. That was you. I didn’t want her to be burdened with memories of her deadbeat, sick mother, so I found Roger Bailey, and he agreed to help me. To help Chloe, start her new life.”
I collapse back against the counter, afraid my legs are going to give out. “Fuck, Arie. Why didn’t you tell me? When you got here that day, pretending to want to be her nanny, why didn’t you just tell me then?”
Tears start to form in Arie’s eyes, and she brushes them away with the back of her hand. “Because of the Cannizzos! I knew they were still after me, still are after me. I didn’t want to take the chance of you and Chloe getting hurt, so I thought if I stay close, but distant, I could keep you safe until I figured things out. But nothing worked out the way I planned, and I fell in love with you again. I didn’t expect it happen, or for us to be here like this, again. But it did happen. And I knew I had to tell you before we moved to New Zealand. I couldn’t hide the truth from you anymore.”
Oh my god, New Zealand. We’re moving to New Zealand. Arie is Chloe’s mother. We have a child together and we’re moving to New Zealand. I can’t breathe. I’ve never had a panic attack in my life, but I imagine this is what it feels like. I’m full of rage at Arie for lying, and sadness that she felt so hopeless, and desperation because I have no idea what to do. Even though I wish it didn’t, the rage wins out.
“Well. I guess you’re lucky Chloe still isn’t talking. She might have called you ‘mommy’ and given away your whole game.”
Arie’s face collapses. “Pierce, please. Please try to understand. This was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Don’t you see? I signed away all of my rights to my child. She is entirely yours now. If you decide you never want to see me again, and took her and went to New Zealand without me, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But I needed you to know the truth. I couldn’t keep lying you to you. Because I love you.”
I back away slowly, trying to temper my breathing like I learned in the SEALs. I walk past Arie, ignored the look of hurt on her face, go into my bedroom, grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt off the floor, put them on, and then head right back out for the front door. I need to think. I need fresh air, air that isn’t heavy with so many lies. I’m almost to the elevator door when Arie runs up behind me and grabs my arm.
“Wait, Pierce! Please! Don’t just walk out. We need to talk about this.”
Her face crumples into a mass of tears, but I can’t focus on anything but the betrayal.
“I’m sorry, Arie. I can’t think right now. I’m not sure I have a right to be mad, but I am. I know you were sick. I know it seemed like your only option, but Jesus — ” I stop, mid-sentence. There’s nothing else I can add. My chest clenches tight. “I need to get out of here.”
How did I not know?
I can hear her sobbing as the elevator door shuts behind me, hiding my own tears as they trickle down my cheeks.
Arie
I don’t know what I expected would happen when I told Pierce the truth. That he would forgive me on the spot? Understand why I lied to him for all these weeks? Months even? There was no way that would happen. But the look of utter betrayal on his face was more than I could bear. I don’t think I’ve ever been this devastated in all my life, and it’s entirely my own doing. I should have told him right away, I should have picked honesty. And because I didn’t, I might lose the love of my life and my daughter in one fell swoop.
I’m not letting him go without a fight, I think as I run into my room and grab some shorts and t-shirt. I will find Pierce, no matter what it takes, and I will tell him how sorry I am and beg him to forgive me. I will look for him all night if I have to. I’m just about grab my purse when I hear the elevator doors open, so I rush to the foyer.
“Pierce! You came back! Please, let me expla — ”
But it’s not Pierce standing in the foyer. It’s Danny. Hulking, leather-clad, terrifying Danny, enforcer for the Cannizzo family, and my own personal lurking demon. I take two steps back, trying to see how close I am to the phone that calls down to the doorman, but it’s too far away for me to get to it before he could get to me.
“Danny… What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
He smirks. “Your doorman is taking a nap. He’ll be fine, but he might wake up with a headache. You’ve been avoiding us, Miss Blanchard. You left the country. My employer isn’t pleased.”
I take two more steps back, but Danny is following my every move, and I know he will be faster than me. I have no play; I’m like a rat trapped in a maze, and he knows it.
“I came back, didn’t I? You said I had a month. That month isn’t up for another few days. I will get you your money.”
Danny laughs, a big booming laugh that makes my stomach roll. “Forgive me, Arie, if I say that we don’t have a lot of faith in you one way or the other anymore. You dick us around for months, you leave New York, you’re obviously planning something with your fancy-ass boyfriend. Mr. Cannizzo is out of patience.”
I glance to my right and see a knife sitting in the sink. Can I get to it before he gets to me? Am I that fast?
“Pierce will be back any minute. He can give you your money tonight.”
Danny just shakes his head. “It’s not about the money anymore, Miss Blanchard. It’s about your character. We can’t count on you. And Mr. Cannizzo no longer believes you are of the kind of character he wants to deal with.”
The venom in his words hangs heavy in the air, and it scares me just enough that I don’t see how I have anything to lose. I bolt for the kitchen, thinking that all I have to do is get my fingers around the handle of the knife. If I can just do that, maybe I can get Danny off his feet, even if it’s only long enough to call the cops. But what I didn’t count on was that he would have a gun, and for a burly man, he is faster than me. So, when the barrel of his gun hits me on the back of the head, and the lights start to go out, I don’t have time to be angry at myself for being stupid, and thinking I could beat this man.
I only have time to think… I really hope I get to see my daughter again.
When I wake up, my head is throbbing, and I’m in a room so dark, I can’t make out anything around me. I can hear the quiet hum of voices outside, and a gentle drip drip drip coming from behind me. I’m sitting in a cold, steel chair… Well, sitting is generous. I’m tied to a cold steel chair. My hands are bound behind me with what seems to be a zip-tie, and my ankles are strapped to the legs of the chair, so I can’t so much as shimmy in any direction. I tell myself not to panic, but my heart is racing so fast, I think I may pass out again. I have n
o idea what to do. I’ve never even considered ending up in a situation like this, so it’s not like I’ve trained for it, or come up with an escape plan.
Pierce would know what to do.
Oh, god, Pierce. He was so angry when he walked out of the apartment. What if he doesn’t come back for hours? What if he thinks I just packed up and left because of our fight? I could just die in this room and no one would ever know. I suppose it’s my own fault; I made some stupid decisions that landed me here, and if I were to die now, like this… It would just be par for the course. But I won’t go down without a fight.
The zip-ties are tight, but they aren’t so tight that I can’t move my arms and legs at all. I know that even if I got my legs loose, that wouldn’t do me much good as long as my hands are still tied, so I decide to focus on them first. I interlace my fingers, trying to make my hands as small as possible, and begin wiggling them inside of the zip-tie. It’s a close fit, but I can feel my wrists begin to slide loose, especially when the rough edges of the tie begin to cause the delicate skin on my hands to bleed. I think I’m just about free, when the sound of the door across from me unlocking startles me, forcing me to stop the struggle.
The door opens, flooding the small room I am in with light and totally blinding me. All I see are shadows of two men as they walk in. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light, but when I do, my stomach drops down to my bound ankles. One of the men is Danny, and the other I recognize from his time on the front pages of the New York papers. He is dressed in a meticulously tailored suit, and his short black hair is slicked back with enough gel to drown someone. His smirk is off-putting given the circumstances, but I can see how it would be charming in a different scenario.
I am staring into the cold, black eyes of Sebastian “Angel” Cannizzo.
Angel walks up to me with an arrogant swagger, and squats in front of me. His eyebrows are thick, making him look like he’s surveying me for some sign of weakness, even if he’s not that smart. When he speaks, his voice is thick with a Jersey accent, and his tone is slow and patient. He’s not in any rush, because he knows I’m sure as hell not going anywhere.
“Nice to finally meet you, Miss Blanchard. I wasn’t sure I would ever have the pleasure.”
I have to force myself to stifle an eye roll. “I can’t say I return the sentiment, Mr. Cannizzo. Seeing as your associate there abducted me from my home and assaulted me.”
Cannizzo laughs a low, core-shaking laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “Well, Miss Blanchard, if you hadn’t seen fit to get on a plane and go to New Zealand for a month when you owed me almost a hundred grand, perhaps we could have met under different circumstances. I have to say, you’re exactly the type of spitfire I’m attracted to.” He reaches out and runs a finger along my jaw, and I jerk my face away. His touch makes my skin crawl.
“First of all, I came back. I fully intended to come back and pay you your damn money,” I respond defiantly. “Second, I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on earth. So, kindly keep your disgusting hands to yourself.”
He and Danny have a hearty laugh at my expense.
“I told you she was a sexy little thing. It’s a shame we have to kill her.”
I force myself to stay calm. They are taking their sweet time with whatever they are planning to do, so that gives me an opportunity to keep them talking, and hopefully, buy Pierce some time to figure out I’m missing.
“I find it ridiculous that you’re willing to kill me over seventy-five thousand dollars. What the hell kind of business model is that? If you kill me, you don’t get your money. Money that I had every intention of giving you on our agreed upon delivery date. What exactly does killing me accomplish?”
Angel smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. “Honestly? I don’t give a shit about the money. It may have been about the seventy-five large a few months ago. But now? It’s about the principle of the thing. I can’t let word get out that I’ve gone soft. I don’t care if it’s a million dollars or fifty fucking bucks. You borrowed money from us, Arie, and you didn’t pay it back. The story ends there.”
I’m just about to give him some sort of smartass answer when a cell phone rings. Angel reaches into his pocket and answers.
“I’m in the middle of something. What is it?... Fine. Give me a minute. I’ll call you back.”
He hangs up and turns his stare back to me. “You lucked out, Arie. I have more pressing business to attend to at the moment. So, you get a stay, as it were. Danny is going to be just outside, keeping an eye on you. In the meantime, don’t get any ideas. Understand?”
I actually roll my eyes this time. “What the hell am I going to do, dumbass? You’ve got me tied to a chair in an empty room and I have no idea where we are.”
Angel just laughs at me, like I’m a bug he can squish, a toy he can play with. “Yeah, you’re a real spitfire.”
He walks out of the room, leaving me alone with Danny, who looks less-than-enthused to be there. We just stare at each other for a minute, and then out of nowhere, he rears back and slaps me across the face. Hard. I see stars, and I can feel burning in my cheek. But more than anything, I’m pissed off. Danny just scowls.
“The boss may think you’re funny, but I don’t. If you get mouthy with me, I will shut you up permanently. I don’t care what he says.”
Danny walks out of the room and locks the door behind him, and I try to stretch out my jaw, which is throbbing. Tears start to build in the corners of my eyes, but they are as much from rage as pain, or fear. I start struggling against my bindings again, and whisper into the empty room…
“Dammit, Pierce. Where are you?”
Pierce
The city is strangely silent as I walk. I ignore the throbbing in my leg, pushing it far past the point that I’m supposed to. My physical therapist would lose his shit, but at this point, my brain needs the exercise more than my leg needs its nightly rest.
How could she?
The words echo in my head, over and over. It’s like a mantra, an unwanted one. Something evil and intrusive in my brain, stuck on repeat.
It’s clear exactly how she could. It was all for Chloe. Like everything in my life has been since I met her. My mind gets it. But my heart breaks every time I go over it in my imagination.
I’ve practically walked to Brooklyn and back, and while I don’t feel any better about the fact that Arie lied to me, I know why she did. People do crazy things when they are scared, and she had plenty of reasons to be beyond terrified. I don’t know how she has managed to stay disconnected from Chloe for so long; it must have been tearing her apart. I can’t imagine a day without Chloe. I’ll be angry for a while, but at the very least, I think I can begin to forgive her.
I’m angry at myself, too. For not knowing. For not being there. For fucking her over and leaving her in the first place. Pregnant, alone. And then sick.
Why wasn’t I there?
That’s the other thing I focus on, even though it doesn’t do me a damn bit of good. I can’t go back in time and make it all right. Undo everything that’s been done. I wish to God I’d never left.
But one thing is for sure… I refuse to let her go. Not again.
I walk back into the building, and am surprised not to see Thomas hurrying to the door to greet me. It’s his week of working nights, so he should be at the desk at the very least. But I don’t see anyone. In fact, there is something unsettlingly quiet about the entire lobby.
“Thomas? Buddy?” I call out. But I don’t get an answer. I walk slowly around the corner of the lobby desk, wishing I had my gun on me, even though I don’t technically have a reason to be concerned yet. I step up to the desk and lean over, and realize that yes… I should have my gun.
Thomas is in a heap on the floor, blood pooling underneath him from a head wound. I can see his eye twitching, and his chest rising and falling, so I know he’s alive. But he may not be that way for long. I leap over the desk and come crashing
down on my useless leg, trying to ignore the searing pain that shoots from my foot up to my hip. I crouch down next to Thomas and try not to move him; afraid I might worsen whatever condition he’s currently in.
“Thomas! Thomas man, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”
His eyes flutter, and he opens one eye lazily. He looks dazed, definitely concussed, and he groans.
“Mr.… Cochran. A man. He… asked… about Arie. Then he… with the butt of a gun. My head really hurts, Mr. Cochran.”
My blood turns to ice in my veins. I want to bolt upstairs and straight to Arie, but I can’t. Not yet.
“Don’t move, Thomas. Just breathe. I’m going to call you an ambulance, okay?”
I grab the phone off the desk, call 911, then take off my shirt and put it under Thomas’ head, so at least he’s not lying directly on the cold tile floor. Once he’s secured, and I can hear the sirens of the ambulance in the distance, I run up the stairs for at a time, pain be damned. I use my keycard to unlock the private door, and when I get inside, my stomach drops again at the sight before me.
The apartment has been trashed. It looks both like there has been a struggle, as well as that someone has just intentionally destroyed the place. I carefully into the living room, trying not to disturb anything in case I need to bring in the FBI. I know there is zero chance she’s still here, but I have to try.
“Arie? Baby? Are you here?”
When I see the kitchen, I know for sure she’s gone. There is blood on the floor and the counter, and strands of her hair are everywhere, as if someone grabbed her by her hair and pulled her backwards. I back out of the kitchen, and bolt for the bedroom.
Please don’t have taken the computer.
Please don’t have taken the computer.
I throw the bedroom door open and can just see the corner of my laptop sticking out from under my pillow. I slide it out and flip straight to the security cameras, then rewind until I see it. I see everything. A man walking in from the elevator, Arie slowly trying to back away, then darting for the kitchen and grabbing for the knife. But the man beat her into the kitchen, and hit her with his gun, sending her crumbling to the floor. But not before she slammed her head on the corner of countertop.
