by J. L. Brooks
When I looked up at Paula, she smiled weakly and mouthed, thank you. There was nothing to thank me for. If there was any love left for that man, it vaporized the moment I heard another woman and him try to hide it.
“Oh Lila sweetheart, where are you?” he asked in an exaggerated tone. He was pretending, too. I knew Graves was right, but to know it deep down made me even more furious.
“Columbia Presbyterian. I want to come home. Will you come get me?”
He hesitated for a moment, which surprised me. Knowing what was at stake, I played into his ego.
“Come rescue me. I don’t like these strangers touching me. I feel so vulnerable and alone here. Please . . .”
Grant liked playing hero. He liked pretending to be a good guy, because he was so bad. It was a sick game that turned him on. Knowing what he could do, and making me think I was safe, when really it was the mouth of the lion. He was the worst kind of villain, because you never saw him coming. Even when you did, you were defenseless. If he were a simple conman that would be one thing, but a cold-blooded killer was another. What did that say about me?
I knew he was a snake and I did it anyway.
“I’m on my way. I love you.”
“I love you too, Grant.”
[Click]
I did love Grant. And Grant did not exist. I did not fall in love with a monster. I fell in love with an idea. A character, and I knew characters. I made them up every day. I was saying goodbye to Grant, not Ivan. I did not know Ivan. I didn’t want to.
Waiting in room 1526 was not me, but Tammy. She had flown to New York the night before to wait for his arrival and subsequent arrest. Getting to know her over the past week shifted who I was; she seemed to have that effect. The woman was a badass and reminded me to pull up my bootstraps and own up to my life. After disconnecting the call, I looked up at Paula and waited for direction.
“Now we wait,” she said solemnly.
I nodded as the staff came to remove all of the props used for the call. Walking out of the hospital into the warm sunshine and palm trees was surreal. Several agents travelled with me in the van back to the compound on the small island of Vieques, just off the island of Puerto Rico. I had learned a little bit more about the location traveling to the hospital. The less I knew seemed to be better. After arriving and eating a light lunch, I took to the beach and collected seashells along the short stretch I was allowed to walk on. Two agents were assigned to stay with me at all times. Reminding myself they were not friends, I did little to become acquainted with these protectors.
I wanted to be alone.
My mind was running at a dizzying pace that would frighten most people. I imagined what was going to happen. Every word from Graves and Tammy’s mouth replayed over and over again. Feeling as though I was waking up from a long dream, I wondered what the hell I did with my life. It could be different. It could be good. I wasn’t a victim. I had power. Facing Grant reinforced my strength. This would be over soon and I could move on. But to where? I decided to use this time to figure it out. Think about what I wanted, what I wanted to do, and where I wanted to go, but doing it sober. Anything to distract from the reality of New York. Tammy and the others were putting their lives on the line for mine.
Now it’s up to me to make sure it’s worth it.
I heard one of the agents ringtones buzz and watched as he answered. He looked over at me and nodded before hanging up.
“It’s happening.”
The three of us bolted back to the property and watched the wall of monitors light up. They were tapped into the Columbia Hospital security camera system along with the ones set up in the room. My heart started to race out of my chest. The room I was supposed to be in was dimly lit with the shades drawn. Following along as agents quietly whispered directions to one another, I watched as Ivan entered the hospital and cameras switched as they followed him.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” an agent said over the line. “He’s wearing scrubs and has a name badge. Advised, the suspect is wearing a hospital uniform and has a badge. Stand by.”
A garbled voice was picked up in the elevator.
“Be ready with the van, we have to move quickly,” Ivan said in Russian. Additional cameras immediately panned the parking lot, looking for the vehicle. Spotting the non-descript van with tinted windows circle the perimeter of the lot, a series of cameras was dedicated to not losing their location. Surprisingly Ivan came in alone, or so they initially thought. Agents within the hospital noted that five additional men in scrubs had entered at different points, all headed to the 15th floor. To the unknowing eye, they looked like hospital employees, but enough was off to notice the difference.
“Look sharp,” said the agent on the radio.
I then heard Tammy pipe in quietly, “What’s the ETA?”
“Two minutes tops.”
“Radio off, copy.”
“Copy,” the agent said.
The elevator door chimed and each second pounded in my gut as Ivan stepped closer to the room. Because of the scrubs, he walked past the nurse’s station without stopping. Thankfully the hospital staff had been replaced with undercover agents. Everyone played their part. As he neared the room, he stopped and patted beneath his ribs.
“Suspect is armed,” screamed out over the radio. Although Tammy could not reply back, she could hear the warning, and everyone assumed he wouldn’t come in empty handed. Cameras picked up as he slowly walked in the dark room.
“Lila baby, I’m here,” he said quietly.
As he reached over and touched Tammy’s side, who was laying in the bed pretending to be me, I heard the gun click.
“Arms above your head. You’re under arrest,” the agent said firmly.
Because the room was dark, he didn’t notice that there was someone else in the room, waiting in the bathroom for him to pass by. Ivan reached for his weapon and another click sounded. This time it was Tammy’s voice.
“Drop it, she’s not here.”
Knowing he was backed into a corner, he refused to drop his weapon and went to release the safety.
“Last warning,” Tammy shouted.
There was no backing down. The hospital had locked the doors and elevators making it impossible for his men to reach him. Agents swarmed the halls and had each and every one of them in handcuffs. He called for the men, but there was no response.
“Where is she? Where are you hiding the little whore,” Ivan spat at the agents. Hearing him refer to me so crudely caused my blood to run cold and my stomach to turn.
“She’s far away from you, and she knows the truth about who you really are. Did you really think you could keep it from her?” Tammy asked while sliding out of the bed and into a more advantageous spot to get a clear shot if needed, or duck for cover. After a long pause, Ivan laughed.
“She can hear me, can’t she? She’s listening right now. Tsk, Tsk, Tsk . . . Bad girl Lila, you shouldn’t have done this. This is your fault. I could have given you everything!” Rather than reaching to shoot an agent, he turned the gun into his mouth and quickly squeezed the trigger.
As agents rushed into the room, a pool of blood started to seep out from his head and cover the floor. The back of the wall was covered in spatter and chaos began.
This was not happening . . .
It was hard to capture the adrenaline felt during the moment as it took place. I could only hear the gunshot and his voice ring through my head on repeat.
Although my muscles were in a world of pain, I felt nothing, just the urge to run. I came tearing out of the dining room and onto the terrace. Agents followed me as I raced down the beach in a fury. The wind whipped my face and my lungs burned. It was like the time I had ran along the ridge in Utah. Where all this began.
All I had to do was write a book.
It seems so simple. But I had to be stubborn. Coming to a stop, I fell to my knees, looked up into the heavens and screamed.
The waves swallowed my voice and sky sta
yed silent. Who was I to be angry? I was a speck in a massive existence, but I continued to scream until there was nothing left. I didn’t ask for this. None of it. Grant, Ivan, whatever his name was, put a gun to his mouth and pulled the trigger. It wasn’t a trick; it was real. And he said it was my fault. Knowing what I was thinking, one of the agents pulled me close and started rocking back and forth.
“It is not your fault. I repeat, it is not your fault. He saw there was no getting out of the situation and chose to be a coward. If he didn’t die in there, it would have been you or someone else. Because of you, hundreds if not thousands of people will live now. I know it’s hard to comprehend, but he saved us a lot of trouble. Do not carry this guilt.”
Unprepared for the outcome, this was not what I was expecting. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The tears ran dry and the numbness set in. Everyone was safe now, and I shouldn’t be so sad, but I was devastated.
Tired and cold, I placed my hand on the ground and watched an electric blue light shoot out against the ground. Thinking I wasn’t seeing correctly, I placed my other hand down and saw the same thing.
I looked up at the agents who held knowing smiles.
“What is this?” I asked softly.
One walked up to me and kneeled down. Taking his finger to the sand, he drew a smiley face and an arrow pointing to the ocean. The sand lit up as he traced through the grains.
Looking up, the breath was stolen from my lungs. Bright blue waves crashed against the shore. It looked as though the stars fell into the ocean and glowed brightly like alien blue pearls.
“What is this place?” I asked quietly as the melancholy turned to wonder.
“It’s what makes this place so special. It’s Mosquito Bay, also known as a bioluminescent beach. It’s gated to keep tourists and trespassers out, but also for protection. I am surprised you haven’t seen it, yet, but the moon can make it hard to see sometimes.”
As he reached out to help me stand, I brushed off my knees and watched the ground light up. They started to walk towards the shoreline to see the waves bring the small glowing spheres closer to the surface. Little fish darted in the water leaving trails of light. Thinking about the time in the pool, I was once again brought back to Hunter.
He never meant to hurt me. Ever . . .
I was tired and overwhelmed. I couldn’t think about him now. I needed to sleep or else risk driving myself mad. Allowing myself a few more moments to get lost in the wonder of the beach, I promised to come out the next night and truly enjoy it. We walked back to the compound and I asked if Tammy and Graves were okay. When Paula assured they were, I asked to be excused for the night. She gave me a sweet nod and a hug. Reaching around to hug her back, I started to break down again. Not letting myself get too worked up, I thanked her and went to the bathroom to pour a hot bath. Holding my nose and submerging under water, I let the warmth envelope me.
There was no fighting sleep. Crawling into the bed and pulling the cool white sheets up to my chest, the world vanished as I slipped into the void.
Tied to the bench, I felt the soreness of my muscles as they were pulled tight with the leather straps. The men all stood against the wall wearing masks, naked and waiting for a turn to violate me. Standing among them was Grant. I knew it was him because of the blood that poured from the mouth of his mask and down his chest. Looking to my right, I saw Hunter in a chair, holding his mask like the dream before. He stood up and walked towards the bench. He did not look angry or sad. His eyes were full of love and compassion. Tenderly, he undid the leather straps that bound my limbs and exposed my nakedness. Taking off his shirt, he slipped it over me before picking me up and holding me close. Walking to the door of the hotel room, each of the figures remained still as if frozen in time.
The door clicked and outside of it were agents in full swat gear ready to move. Without stopping he carried me through effortlessly. It seemed like an army was marching into the room as we headed in the opposite direction. I felt his mouth come near my ear and hot breath rush across the surface. In three words, my world crumbled.
I got you . . .
Waking up, my heart was racing and I was covered in sweat. It was him. Hunter was the one who pulled me out of the wreck. I had to see him. Looking out the window, it was still dark and the house was asleep with the exception of the night watch. I tried to sleep some more, but it would not come. I felt rested and less volatile. I had to be patient as everything unfolded. Unable to stay in bed, I asked for an escort to the beach to watch the sunrise. The blue glow was not nearly as vibrant as it waited for the sun to recharge its energy. This place was special. I couldn’t see it before because of everything else. I asked the agent to fill me in, but protocol forbid it. I had to wait for an official debriefing. Upon walking back into the house, I discovered I would not get my night on the beach, as I was to pack my things and board a plane immediately. It was time to come out of hiding.
Arriving at Andrews Field in Washington DC, Graves was waiting on the tarmac to escort me immediately to FBI Headquarters. Feeling both anxious and frightened, his presence calmed me as we navigated through the bustling metropolis. I was fingerprinted and searched upon arrival. Feeling like a criminal, I knew that this was a part of processing and safety precautions. A temporary badge was issued and I was whisked to a small conference room. Several agents filled the room along with Tammy, Paula and Graves.
Before me I watched a three-year operation unfold. Although the others knew a majority of the details, I was an observer to something much larger than the world I knew. The pieces I was given in Puerto Rico were mere crumbs compared to the chunks of information being processed. When the part where I entered the picture came up, I watched the most intimate parts of my life flash on a screen and cause my cheeks to flush. It wasn’t to embarrass me. This was business. Graves explained how Ivan’s patterns changed and the plan to get to me came into play.
Hunter, the wreck, the escape. Nearly a hundred people were a part of orchestrating this operation. After Graves confirmed that Ivan was dead, the gruesome truth came out. Seven men were arrested in connection to Ivan at the hospital. The van was seized and inside was five gallons of sulfuric acid, rubber gloves, plastic bags, duct tape, and bottles of tranquilizer. All were being held on attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to kidnapping and a slew of other charges.
He was really going to kill me
The thought sent shudders down my spine. The FBI now had enough evidence to combine efforts with Canadian authorities to seize his properties, lock up what finances were attached to his name and shut down his operations. All because of me.
I tried to think of the good that would come out of this, but it still did not make it easy. As the team celebrated, I sat quietly in my seat. This was their job, and this was my life. It was a lot to take in. Feeling overwhelmed, a slight knock came to the door. Graves motioned for it to be open and the room grew silent. Turning my chair around, Hunter did not see me sitting in the room at first. He headed straight for Graves, shaking his hand and then turned his head. Our eyes locked and the rest faded into a blurry distortion. With two quick strides he was at my seat, lifting me out and pulling me against him. Clinging tightly, I wrapped my legs around his waist and arms around his neck refusing to let go.
The room erupted into a joyous cheer. Hunter was a hero. Because of him, the operation was a success. For the first time in our lives, he was given the recognition he deserved for the love he so selflessly gave to me.
“I got you,” he whispered, and my heart burst open.
One year later . . .
I am convinced true love is nothing more than a fairy tale we are sold on as children to prolong the inevitable truth. That your heart will be shattered into a million pieces, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. So why if this inescapable fate is so torturous, do we desire it more than anything else in life? Because we are fools . . .
The cursor hovered over the black text, ready to once
again delete the words which begged for freedom. Having been there before, that place in a writer’s journey of self-actualization. The precarious decision to be shallow for the sake of acceptance or following one’s gut into the deep. I stayed comfortably in the middle. Lukewarm, neither too hot nor too cold when it came to the truths I chose to share. My job was to weave words into little hooks, pulling emotions out of people I would never even meet, and if only for a moment, suspending them into a fantasy. I help people let go. And now it was time for me to do the same.
Peering over my shoulder and mumbling the words, Hunter reached the end of the paragraph and noticed what I was about to do. Taking my hand and gently moving it to the little disk icon in the top left hand corner.
“It’s good. Don’t delete it. Even if you aren’t going to use it right now, save it for something else perhaps. I think you should see where this takes you, though,” he said while nuzzling the soft curve where my neck dipped into the clavicle.
“Mmmmmmmm, it’s a dark place. It scared me last time,” I purred.
With the words safely rested in the hard drive, Hunter closed the laptop and swung my chair around to face him. His face was relaxed and at peace, more than I had ever seen in all our years.
“Lila, anyone who has ever read a fairytale knows that ninety percent of it is going through dark places. It is only at the end when the princess gets her prince does it become idyllic. Fairytales aren’t lies, or for the faint of heart. They are meant to remind us that evil exists, and that no matter what we are going through, something good is waiting for us if we just persevere. You know that to be true. The problem is everyone wants just the ending; no one wants to experience the whole story. But one must leave a ball quickly, eat the apple, kiss the frog . . . you get my drift.”
Giving a smirk, I stood and wrapped my hands behind his head and pulled him close to kiss his forehead.
“So is this happily ever after?”
