by Nicky Shanks
The panic in his voice settles inside of me quickly and I spring into action, leaping out of the closet and toward the open bedroom door, but it’s too late. Two people rush into the room and glare at me with their dark eyes and angry expressions. One of them manages to get behind me and wrap their arms around me tightly so I can’t move. Casey appears in the doorway so out of breath that he has to clutch his side so he won’t pass out.
“Let her go,” he says.
The person in front of me grins.
Veronica.
Oliver’s mother.
“Shut the fuck up, boy,” she growls at him. “You’re not gonna do shit. You’re no good just like my other pansy-ass son.”
I’m in trouble.
“What do you want?” My lower lip quivers. “Let go of me!” I scream and wiggle inside of the death grip the other person has on me. The man’s arms, with tracks and wounds on the inside of his wrists and elbows, are all I can see of him as he squeezes me so hard that I can barely breathe.
“Just let her go—take me instead,” Casey pleads with them. “If you hurt her—”
Veronica whirls around to glare at him. “You did your job well, kid, now scram.”
Casey’s eyes find mine. “You did this to me?” I whisper. “You knew about this?”
His head shakes violently. “No, fuck, Julie…all she wanted me to do was earn your trust back. She fucking played me to get to you,” he growls at Veronica.
I let my body go limp and the man has a hard time keeping a hold on me. While Veronica and Casey are fighting, Casey shifts his eyes to look at me and silently tells me to run.
Run, Julie.
My brain activates some part of superhuman strength and I elbow the man in the stomach to make him loosen his grip further. I wriggle free of his grasp just enough to separate our bodies from each other.
I have to make it downstairs.
I have to run and hide outside.
Casey pushes Veronica out of my way as she leaps toward me, and I hear him make a weird noise and a loud thud echoes through the house as I reach the staircase. I know they’re right behind me, so I don’t waste time and take the steps two at a time until I trip and fall on my knees at the bottom.
“Need help?” a familiar voice asks.
I need to run.
I look up and gasp.
Mary Callahan, the nurse who took care of Oliver in the hospital.
“Mary?” I hear my voice, but I don’t feel my mouth move. “I-I have to run.”
Her laugh is sickening, making me feel queasy. “I don’t think so. She’s down here!” Her voice billows up the staircase and Veronica, followed by the man who was holding me, race down and pick me up off the floor.
“Mary? Why are you with them?”
Veronica snickers. “It wasn’t hard to find someone my son has pissed off so much that they would be willing to help take him down.”
“What did he do to you?” I scream at her, unaware of the volume of my voice. “What the fuck has Oliver ever done to any of you people?”
Mary scoffs and shrugs. “Oh, me? I’m just a scorned ex-girlfriend that he doesn’t remember from years ago who was promised enough money that I can move somewhere far, far away, that’s all.”
“Enough!” Veronica growls at her. “Don’t tell this little bitch anything else! Give me your phone,” she snarls and shoves her hands into my jeans pockets, pulling out my phone and cackling to herself. She throws me back to the man, who tightens his grip on me harder this time. I see Casey out of the corner of my eye crawling to the top of the stairs, holding his leg in pain. He pulls his phone out of his own pocket and his eyes lock with mine, our fear radiating toward each other.
“Let’s just call my good-for-nothing spawn and say hello, shall we?” Veronica laughs and shifts her eyes toward the man holding me, making sure he’s watching her. In this moment, I’m not afraid of her. She’s just like me…trying to hold onto something that’s slipping through her fingers.
“Hey, sunshine.” We all hear Oliver answer the phone because she’s put it on speaker. “Is something wrong? I’m just finishing up some emails, can I call you back?”
Veronica snickers. “I would advise against that if I were you, son.”
A long pause fills the room while Oliver struggles to catch up without being able to see anything. “What the fuck are you doing with Julie’s phone? Where is she? If you hurt her, I’ll fucking end you.” He threatens her without taking a single breath.
Veronica clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Watch your mouth, or something’s gonna happen to her. I want my money, and I want it in twenty-four hours or you’ll never see her again.” I watch her go for the end call button, and I know I have to do something.
“Oliver!” I scream as she hits the button and cuts the call off.
“Shut her up!” Veronica hisses. “We don’t want to draw any more attention than we already have.”
The man takes something from his pocket; I smell something sweet and see his hand wave in front of my face with a white cloth. My heart nearly beats out of my chest.
I get one last look at Casey before the world starts to go dark.
“I’ll find you, Julie!” he screams, but he sounds so far away. “I promise that Oliver and I will come for you!”
My head spins and everything vanishes.
Every light goes out and I’m all alone in the darkness.
Chapter Eighteen
Oliver
“Oliver!” Julie’s voice rings in my ears over and over as I stand in my hotel room in shock. My fear is punching holes through my chest, trying to get me to move and do something, but I’m hundreds of miles away from her.
I dial Casey’s number and he doesn’t answer.
“Fuck!” I scream, picking up the phone to call the front lobby.
A chipper-sounding man answers. “Thank you for calling—”
“This is Oliver Jackson in the Harbor Suite, I need a private plane chartered immediately. Is that something you can do? I don’t care about money or how much it will cost—I need to get back to New York now.”
The man clears his throat. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
I hang up on him.
What the fuck is happening?
I call Casey again and it goes straight to voicemail.
My phone starts ringing in my hand and I answer before even looking at who it is. “Casey?” My voice is frantic and I have to sit down because my heart is beating so damn fast.
“It’s Brandon. I think something happened.”
Panic sets into my bones and I start to scream louder at him. “You’re fucking right something happened! Where the fuck were you? I thought you were supposed to be looking out for Julie, and now my mother fucking has her!”
I hear shuffling and Heather’s voice comes through now. “Calm down, we’re following them. We won’t lose her, but we keep losing service.”
Okay, that makes me feel a little better…and worse at the same time.
“Call her brother, Randy.” I feel myself losing air and I stand up again to allow my lungs more space. “Make sure he knows so he can use whatever resources he can to get her back. I don’t want them alone with her too long, do you understand me?”
Heather agrees and the call drops. I dial the number back three times before giving up and calling back downstairs to check on my flight.
“Thank you for—”
“This is Oliver Jackson again. I need that plane.”
“I’ve made a phone call, sir. They are searching for a pilot now. Shall I get a car for you so you can start making your way to the airport?”
“Make it happen,” I growl and slam the phone down.
Brandon’s number pops back up on the screen of my phone as I snatch my bags and close the suite door behind me. “Did you get her?” I ask.
The phone goes dead.
I have to get back home.
I call Casey again and no answer.
My fingers are sore when I slam the door in the back seat of the car waiting for me. I have called every single person I know—even Julie herself to see if my deranged mother answers—several times in a row. It’s almost twenty minutes of straight silence as the driver pulls through the gates and onto the tarmac where my plane is waiting.
My phone rings and I answer before the first ring is over.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.” I take the phone from my ear to see who it is.
Casey.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.” My voice goes dark and the driver steps out to give me privacy. “I swear to fucking god, Casey; when I get Julie back and she’s safe, I’ll find you and rip out your fucking throat. You can count on that.”
“I tried to stop them.” He breathes heavily and moans in pain. “I tried, Oliver. That fucking Mac guy broke my leg before they left with her so I couldn’t follow. The paramedics are about to put me into an ambulance. The cops showed up quick—I called them as they left the house. I’m so fucking sorry, Ollie.” He starts to sob, and I know how he feels about her so I don’t interrupt. “I didn’t want them to take her. I tried to get her to lock the door while I called the cops, but she wasn’t fast enough. As soon as I get my leg fixed, I’m going to help you find her. I swear to fucking god I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
I hang up on him.
I can’t handle that right now.
The flight crew—consisting of a young and tall, lanky guy and a woman in her fifties—nods at me as I approach the open staircase waiting for me. The jet is huge, but I don’t give a shit what it costs. I just need to get the hell back home and find Julie.
A balding man with a big nose salutes me and holds out his hand before I can put one foot up on the stairs. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson. My name is Peter Grinaldi, and I’ll be your personal pilot today. Do you want to tour the plane before we take off, sir?”
I stare him square in the eye. “I need to get back to New York as fast as possible. I’m ready now.”
He nods and smacks his lips. “Understood, sir. Lola and Henry will be your in-flight attendants, and they’ll see that you get safely inside and I’ll get us there.” He nods and disappears up the stairs and into the open door of the plane.
I don’t remember buckling myself in or the takeoff. My gaze pulsates on the open sky and the small cities we pass as we soar above them. I can’t even think about Julie without freaking out right now, and I’m not going to fucking cry in front of people I don’t know.
How could I be so fucking reckless with her?
I can’t live without her.
I’m such a fucking idiot to think I could even trust Casey again.
Trying to be the bigger man isn’t getting me anywhere.
Breaking the rules isn’t, either. Come to fucking think of it…neither is following the rules.
Julie’s right: We need different ones.
I feel a hot glob of sadness roll down my cheek and I command myself to stop feeling like the victim and start figuring out how to get her back. My mother—as fucking pitiful as she is—has stooped to an all-time low. I never figured she would even go through with taking Julie, and I’ll regret that every damn day of my life. Julie can never know what I know…or what Casey knows.
Or Brandon or Heather.
“Shit.” I sigh loudly and rest my head on the headrest of the comfortable seat. There’s no way I can fall asleep—that wouldn’t be fair to her. She’s with two people who literally have nothing left to lose and I don’t know if she’s hurt…or worse.
No.
My mother is a monster, but she isn’t a murderer.
The pain in my stomach twists harder because I even have to think about that sentence. My life was a goddamn disaster before Julie and somehow, she fixed the parts of me I didn’t even know were broken. I can’t lose her because I don’t want to give my mother what she wants.
I find my phone and look at Lola as she notices my sudden movement and leaps up to help serve me. I wave her back down and try to smile at her, holding the phone up and silently asking her if it’s okay that I use it. She shakes her head and points to the table in front of me, where a red phone sits.
“Okay,” I say, finding the number of my lawyer, Vernon Trumbull, and letting it ring a few times before I start to give up.
“This is Vernon.” His deep, scratchy voice answers. “Who is this?”
I lick my lips and realize how badly I need water. “Vernon, this is Oliver.”
“Oliver Jackson! How are you, son? I heard you sold yourself into an incredibly early retirement.” He chuckles loudly and it’s hard not to smile. “I guess that’s good for both of us in the long run. What can I do for you, kid?”
“I need you to be prepared to get me a large sum of cash.”
He laughs and I can hear the moment he realizes I’m not fucking around. “Oh, Oliver. What did you do? How much are we talking about?”
I sigh and take the water that Lola hands me, smiling up at her. “Look, my crazy fucking mother has kidnapped Julie and I know she wants money. I’ll need cash for her and I had to charter a private jet to fly back home to find her, so that bill will be coming too.”
“Oliver, this isn’t my job. I don’t handle your finances.” His voice shakes. “I don’t know what you want me to do here.”
“You swore to me that you’d find someone to replace my accountant after I sold everything off. That’s why I fired Casey’s dad. Are you fucking telling me that my money is sitting in oblivion where no one can touch it? Vernon, you better fucking fix this. It’s your job to figure this shit out. You have to screen people and make sure they aren’t going to steal from me, remember?”
“I remember, kid.”
I hear the growl in my voice. “Then do your fucking job and find me someone. In the meantime, get me access to my money whenever I fucking want. I’ll be in touch.”
I hang up and gulp the remaining water down before throwing the bottle into the small trash can next to the table. “It’s an eight-hour flight back, Mr. Jackson. Do you want a pillow?” Henry asks.
I shake my head. “I won’t be able to sleep.”
I’m not allowed to sleep. Not until Julie is safe.
Henry hands me a pillow anyway. “Just in case.” He has no emotion on his face as he returns to his own seat. My mind races between Julie and my mother so much that before I know it, the pillow has been placed next to me on the oversized double seat and my head snuggles against it before I drift off into an uneasy sleep.
***
There’s a thunderstorm outside and it wakes me up in a panic. I don’t like it when it rains; it makes the world wet and sad and cold. Mrs. Atchley says that the rain means the angels are crying and healing the world with their tears. I don’t believe her.
I don’t believe in angels.
They sure don’t care about me.
Dad’s been gone for a long time this time. I’ve been at Mrs. Atchley’s for forty-nine days so far, and it’s getting boring around here. All I do is go to school and come back to her apartment, do my homework, and watch TV. I don’t have friends I can invite over, or would even want to.
I’m alone.
Mrs. Atchley knocks at my bedroom door and waits a few seconds before she opens it. The light from the hallway bursts into the room and I pretend that I’m asleep, but she knows better.
“Oliver, I know you’re awake. You don’t sleep when it rains.” Her laugh sounds rough and I like it. “Boy, take your head out from under those covers.” Her frail fingers grip the blanket above my head and she pulls it down. My smile widens as she comes into view.
She’s gotten older since I met her—since she saved me.
“I can’t sleep,” I say. “Can we do something cool?”
She smiles. “Like what? What’s cooler than staying up late and being scared?”
I know what she’s trying to do.
“Can I go outside and pla
y in the rain?” I push the blanket back and sit up on my knees. Even for a ten-year-old, I’m smaller than most kids my age. I wish every night that I will grow up to be big and strong like my dad.
“Absolutely not, it’s nearly ten o’clock,” she scolds me. “You’re crazy if you’d think I’d agree to something like that.”
“I knew you’d say no.” I pout. “I just wanted to do something cool for once.”
She stands up and leaves the room without saying anything, so I snuggle back under the blanket and close my eyes. I can’t fall asleep; the rain is too loud.
“Get your shoes on,” I hear her say, and I sit back up. She’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom with umbrellas and raincoats. “Get some warm clothes on and find your shoes and I’ll meet you in the living room in two minutes.”
I bolt up from the bed and throw on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, then shove a pair of socks onto my feet. I have a big problem with misplacing my shoes, but I manage to find them and cram my feet in them before my time is up. She hands me an umbrella and zips my body into the raincoat before we make our way out of the apartment building and into the pouring rain.
It’s amazing.
It feels cold and electrifying against my fingertips.
“Well?” Mrs. Atchley looks at me with amusement. “What are you waiting for?”
I don’t waste any time. I take off my raincoat and hand her my umbrella. My clothes are already soaked before I jump in my first puddle. I splash and kick and exert the pent-up energy I’ve been saving unintentionally. The world washes away around me and I feel so free that it’s hard not to pretend I’m someone else…somewhere else.
A prince in England.
A farmer in Kansas.
A magician in Las Vegas.
Anything.
I hardly notice Mrs. Atchley talking to a policeman that’s pulled up behind us. I’m so soaked that I weigh more than normal and it’s hard to walk to her; my body stops behind hers and I peek around to see the officer and hear what he’s saying to her.
“Hey there, son.” He smiles and nods at me. He isn’t wearing a police hat and his hair looks like the color of the sun. “Having fun out here with your grandmother?”
