HERO (The Complete Series)

by Bella Love-Wins

  I was more carefree about opening his gift, ripping madly at the paper to get inside. He laughed as I struggled with the box. When I finally opened it, it took my breath away.

  “It’s… beautiful,” I whispered, mesmerized by its exquisite intricacy. It was a gorgeous, diamond lattice, wrap-around promise ring. “Is this-“

  “It’s a promise ring,” he said. “I’ve never broken a promise, Kate. And this one, well it’s closest to my heart.”

  I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck, pressing my body close and immersing myself in his warmth. “Thank you for the best Christmas ever, Matt.”

  “And to many, many more, Kate,” he whispered in my ear.

  * * *

  After breakfast, we all sat to the Lewis’ ceremonial tradition of opening a never-ending stream of gifts. Most of the ones for me were from Matt, and a couple of them were from Sara and Yolanda. I didn’t want to wait any longer to phone my parents. I excused myself and walked out to the solarium. The call went through to voicemail again. My heart ached, thinking of the irony of not being able to reach them after all their prior attempts to connect with me.

  As I was about to put the phone away, a text came in from a number I didn’t recognize. It said,

  Kate Samuel. We’ve got eyes on your boss and his boyfriend too.

  Now you have to choose who gets to live.

  The two of them; or just you.

  No cops, no cavalry, no security crew.

  Don’t bring your fireman or he’s gone too.

  Be ready for further instructions.

  Book Four - My Hero

  Chapter 1

  I had always thought that if I were to meet with an untimely death, it would be because of a crazed, mouth-breathing stalker from one of my radio show segments. It was not that there were that many of them who called into the station or sent disturbing messages on social media. One crazy caller, in my view, was actually enough to send the fear of God through every fiber of my being. And as we had a few regulars who all seemed to want to procreate with Kate Rock, I had visualized the entire chain of unfortunate, life-ending events as though it had already happened.

  I would be walking home after my shift at the radio station. After some irrational thinking, I’d decide to take the shortcut up the dark alley between Sabatini’s and my house. That alley was also known by my former coworkers as the crack head hooker death walk. Two prostitutes and one small time, drug-addicted crack dealer had met their demise there on separate occasions, hence the name. At one point, it had become so bad that the restaurant cleaners would go in pairs to put out the garbage.

  In any case, for some unknown reason, I would be walking up the alley to get home; and there, in the shadows, a stalker would be waiting. I’d hear him before seeing him, given he was a mouth-breather and all. Then, with uncanny predictability, he’d step out of the shadows. His hair would be sensibly brushed back and out of his clean-shaven, ghostly white face, which would be adorned with the creepiest of facial expressions. It was one where I couldn’t tell whether a person was about to cry, laugh or charge toward me with an axe.

  He would stand there silently, for what would seem like minutes, to ensure he etched his presence into my psyche. His hands would remain behind his back, as though to hide his weapons of torture and eventual murder. Slowly, he would reveal that one hand held flowers. It was the deceptive bait that would throw me off my game and stop me in my tracks. All along, I’d be certain that my time was up, as my amygdala would repeatedly scream, Forget fight! Time for flight! But with the flowers, I’d let my guard down. I’d hesitate long enough to wonder if I was being paranoid, and question my own intuition.

  “I’m a big fan, Kate Rock,” he’d say. “Don’t you remember me?”

  “Um,” I’d toy with the idea of trying to remember, knowing full well I was just delaying the inevitable.

  “It’s me. Shamus,” he’d pronounce, assuming that from the thousands of people who called the station every month, I would know exactly who he was.

  “I-I think so,” I’d stammer out a lie.

  “Do you remember that time I called to request Stairway to Heaven and you made me wait seventeen minutes before you played it?” he would ask innocently.

  I would not remember, and my admission would be what sends him over the fucking edge.

  “I just wanted to give you these,” he’d admit. And that’s when he’d tilt his head, raise half of his bushy unibrow, and show me the meat cleaver in the other hand. The lone sliver of alleyway light would reflect off the tip of his blade, leaving me frozen in place like a frightened deer in the headlights. He’d take the timely opportunity to pounce. Shrill screams, flailing arms, and eventual gagging on my own blood would ensue. The world would then fade to black.

  Somehow, the universe must have thrown a monkey wrench in that possibility. All of a sudden, my choice to rescue a near-helpless child from a fire seemed to have created a whirlwind of new karma around me. Could I call it karma, realistically? That would suggest I did something which caused it, and the last time I checked, doing good usually led to rewards, cheers and well-orchestrated, Mayor-attended, media-hounding, ticker-tape parades. And the hot guy. Yes, I got the hot guy, but everything else felt like I was the mistaken recipient of evil’s backhand.

  I could visualize my tombstone after reading the text. Here lies Kate Samuel, who did the right thing, and look where it fucking got her. She was a radio personality, social media crusher, beloved grand-daughter, estranged daughter, loving girlfriend, and victim of being in the right place at the wrong time. One thing was for certain. If anyone was getting hurt, I planned for it to be me and not George or Richard. Was it honorable? In my view, it was not. I just hated the idea that someone would unleash their yet to be explained disdain for me, on two innocent bystanders.

  They say hindsight is 20-20, and I would have to agree. After I saw the text on my phone, I’m still convinced that I should have immediately done exactly what the instructions had said. At minimum, I should have asked them what they wanted from me, and at best, why they felt my death was the only option. Maybe I could have talked them down. Instead, I called Matt over and handed him my phone so he could see the message. His reaction was visceral.

  “Whoever it is that’s behind all of this, they’ve taken it to a whole new level,” Matt said, nervously raking his hand through his hair.

  “How is this a whole new level now, Matt?” I asked with some sarcasm. “If these are the same people, it’s no worse than trying to choke me to death or blow up a building.”

  “It’s a whole new level because they haven’t stopped, Kate,” he said impatiently. “And they know your phone number, which means that if they really want to, they can figure out where you are right now. “You go pack some things. I’ll call Detective Bateman. We need to get back to the city.”

  “Can it just be a hoax?” I asked. “I mean, we don’t even know they’ve done anything to Richard and George.”

  “We can phone them on the way to Manhattan,” he answered sharply. “This is serious, Kate. We don’t have time to waste. Look. Let’s just go, and I can get Yolanda to send some of your things with one of the men later.”

  Hero taking charge.

  Within a few minutes, Matt and I were in the limousine, and a team of his security crew had loaded into two SUVs. We were headed back to the city. Matt had felt it wise for Sara and her friend to stay back at the country house, for their own safety. Sara didn’t care to go back to Manhattan yet either. I hadn’t seen such a worried look on his face in the entire time since we had met. A few sentences in a text message had taken him from fun-loving and easy-going to agitated and apprehensive.

  On the way back, Matt had contacted Detective Bateman, forwarded him the text message on my phone, and agreed that we would stop at the police station to hand over my phone for analysis and to give them some more information. We had also made several unsuccessful attempts to reach George and Richard. G
od, I hope they’re okay, I kept thinking.

  The drive back seemed to last forever. I took my phone from Matt and went online to see if I could reach George or Richard on Facebook or any of the social media channels. They hadn’t posted on any of their personal accounts since Christmas Eve. I checked the online news station to see if it was up and running, and it was. I sent text messages to the two DJs on staff to see if George was there. They hadn’t seen him all morning. By the time we made it to Manhattan, I was out of my mind was worry. Someone out there could have taken these two completely innocent men, just because they knew me. And I still had no idea what they wanted from me.

  Matt noticed how afraid I looked, and reached over to take my hand. “It’s going to be okay. Try not to worry too much.”

  “Do you know that for sure Matt?” I asked. He knew it was a rhetorical question, so he opted to lean over and kissed my hair.

  “I feel like it’s my fault,” I continued. “Why do all of these people around me have to get hurt? And when will they just come out and say exactly what they want? And who are they, anyway?”

  “Kate. Stop,” Matt said. “None of this is your fault. The truth is that there are some very evil people out there who want to do others harm. We’re going to find them and stop them, with the police’s help.”

  “Well I won’t be able to forgive myself if anything happens to George or Richard,” I said. “They had nothing to do with any of this. And now they’re possibly in the hands of some arson-loving, murderous crime ring. And it’s all my doing.”

  “This all started after the fire,” Matt recounted. “Maybe the police needs to find out more about who the Holsteins were, and what they might’ve been involved in. The fire was deemed suspicious, and by all accounts, they may have been murdered. If that’s the case, maybe the people after you feel you might have seen something when you climbed up to rescue their son. What was his name again? I remember his sister Jessica but I forget the little boy’s name.”

  “It was Joel,” I answered.

  “Yes. Joel,” he continued. “If they believe you saw something, especially if it has to do with arson and murder, then all of it makes sense. The hotel, the bombing at the radio station, and now this. It’s become bigger than the average person can handle. That’s why it’s best for the police to deal with it, and all I need to do is keep you safe.”

  “And what about George and Richard?” I persisted. “Who’ll look after them? What if they’re in danger right now? What if they’ve already been kidnapped? I just have to do something.”

  “Yes, and you will do something,” Matt said. “When we get back to the city, you will tell the police everything you know, and you will leave it in their hands to take care of it. That’s all you can do, Kate.”

  “Maybe I could meet them and find out what they want,” I proposed.

  “Stop. That’s not going to happen,” Matt said firmly. “Do you understand you could have been killed by now? I’m convinced now that it’s not just a lone wolf after you for some unknown reason. This is the work of some hardened criminals, quite possibly organized crime. And there’s no way that I’m letting you anywhere near those people. We’re going to let the police do their jobs. And that’s final.”

  Hero authority.

  “Matt, I…” I started, but he cut me off before I could finish.

  “That’s enough Kate. We can discuss at any and all lengths what happened, from the fire, to the hotel room and at the radio station. The more details you remember, the more information the police will have, to link what they found with what you know. We’re not going to discuss what you think you want to do about it.”

  I looked over at him, stunned that he would speak to me as if I were a child. He noticed the shock on my face, because he relaxed his tense, furrowed brows, and squeezed my hands.

  “Kate,” he said lovingly, “I can’t stand by and let anything happen to you. And I can’t knowingly let you put yourself in danger. Please, I’ll figure out how to give the police any resources that they need to find George and Richard, and to stop whoever’s after you. Just promise me you won’t put yourself in harm’s way, and you will let the police do what they need to do. Okay?”

  I looked over at his face, which looked like he was pleading desperately to me. I gave in. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll leave it to Detective Bateman and New York’s finest.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, yes,” I said and rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to reply to this message. I’m not going to try to find out who they are. All I’m going to do is try to remember everything that happened and give the police that information.”

  “Good,” he answered, relieved.

  Hero talk-down.

  Admittedly, I may have been lying.

  Chapter 2

  “Can we do one thing before we go to the police station?” I asked as we got on the highway.

  “What’s that?” Matt was anxious and visibly distracted. For a moment, I was overcome with the reality of my helplessness and dependence on him. I wondered if he would have kept pursuing me after the Joy fiasco, had he known I was marked for death and would test his security team resources this much. I didn’t deserve it.

  “Before I do, I want to ask you this. Why do you still want to help me?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

  “Well, you could easily walk into any bar, club, office, or anywhere at all, and find someone who has fewer…issues.”

  He looked over at me, with an expression on his face that was half-confused, half-insulted. “Are you feeling alright?”

  Hero disbelief.

  “Yes I’m fine,” I answered. My gaze was stiff and emotionless. “So tell me why?”

  “Is that what you think I’ve been doing all this time, Kate?” he questioned with incredulity. His body tensed up, and his jaw was tight. “Helping you?”

  “Why won’t you just answer me?”

  “Seriously Kate, what kind of question is that?”

  “Think about it, Matt.” I started. “A month ago we didn’t even know each other. Well, you knew Kate Rock, the radio personality, but you didn’t know me. We went from complete strangers to you being my sole protector. I will never stop appreciating what you’ve done for me. But I have asked myself why you came into my life, and were so willing to take on more than you need to. What is happening around me, well it’s happening because of me. The last thing I need is the extra guilt from more bad things happening to people around me. And that’s why I have to ask you, why would you choose to stick around and help me?”

  “I think I know where this is coming from and it’s not going to work,” he said. His face softened and I could almost make out a slight smile. “Whatever guilt, anxiety, or stress it is that you’re feeling, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here because I care for you. I’m here because I love you. And I know you would do the same for me. So take that question, and any uncertainty you have about yourself or us, out of your mind. There’s nothing you can do to push me away right now, including that ridiculous question you just asked.”

  I turned away from him and looked out the window. I couldn’t face him as a lone tear trickled down my face. He was right. I was trying to push him away. I didn’t think I deserved everything that he had given to me or all that he had done for me. I wanted to give him an out. That way, I wouldn’t have to live with my guilt over putting him and his people in the midst of danger. He wasn’t buying it. How could this man be so attuned to my fear?

  “Kate,” he called to me, resting his hand gently on my shoulder. “Look at me, Kate.”

  I couldn’t look at him. I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity.

  I felt him move closer to me in the seat. He cupped my chin and turned my face toward him. “You’ve been through more in the last few weeks than anyone deserves in a lifetime. You need to know, to trust that I am not going to let you go through it alone. I don’t care how little the time has been tha
t we’ve known each other. Time is a trickster. And I don’t need any more time to know that I am right where I want to be. Do you understand me, Kate?”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his neck as the tears flowed freely.

  “They didn’t deserve to be put in the middle of this,” I said between sobs. “Why did those people have to do this?”

  “You’re right,” Matt agreed. He ran a hand up and down my back, doing what he could to help console me. “They don’t deserve it. And neither do you.”

  Hero comforter.

  I sucked in a deep breath, making a concerted effort to calm my emotional outburst. It barely helped. I resigned myself to let it all out, and to take shelter in Matt’s arms, until there weren’t any more tears to cry.

  * * *

  I finally pulled away from Matt’s comforting, tear-soaked chest and brushed away the residual tears from my face.

  “Sorry about your shirt,” I lamented, searching my purse for a tissue, or anything I could find to soak up the puddle on his shirt collar.

  “It’s not important,” he answered. “Are you alright now?”

  “I’m sorry for questioning…us,” I continued.

  “Don’t mention it. You’re going through a tough time.”

  “Thanks for bearing with me,” I said, then paused briefly, wondering if I should push the issue of George and Richard. “So what I meant to ask is if we can stop at George and Richard’s place before we go to the police station. Just to see if they’re at home and doing okay.”

  “Kate,” he started, speaking slowly. I suspect I was indeed pushing it, to the point of trying his patience. “We’ve both called their house phone and cell phones several times. No one has answered. It may not be safe at their house. I don’t have enough men with us to do anything risky, and I won’t interfere with the police investigation. I promise you when we get back to New York, I’ll make sure Bateman sends a team to look into it, if he hasn’t already. Just to allay your fears. For now, we’re going straight to the police station. They will take care of it. Now, do you want to talk about what you remember? It might help.”