Come Back to Me_A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Vivien Vale

  They’re scared, trembling, and looking for hope. It’s a disturbing sight. But I’ve been a witness to this scene before.

  If I’m not mistaken, poachers have ransacked the village, taking only what they needed, which I’m afraid might be exactly the one thing I’m looking for.

  That becomes more obvious to me as I watch the villagers mourn.

  I know she would’ve been out here consoling the women and children, making them feel better in her own perfect way.

  I’m too late. They’ve kidnapped her.

  I reach the hut and it’s empty, confirming my suspicions. A few of her things have been thrown on the floor, and the gun I’ve given her is missing.

  My anxiety grows—this doesn’t look fucking good.

  My heart sinks, and my stomach drops at the thought of Addie in danger.

  And it infuriates me that I was unable to prevent it from happening.

  Where the fuck was her guard?

  God damn it! I shouldn’t have fucking left her.

  Stopping myself from wallowing, I quickly switch gears and ready myself.

  I will not have her in danger a second longer. I will save her and bring her back to me.

  I rummage through my gear and weaponry and begin to arm myself with everything I have.

  Putting my bullet proof vest on first, I hoist a few automatic pistols on my belt, strategically hide a few knives in my pants and socks, and slide over my head two automatic rifles.

  As much as I would love to go guns blazing, I refrain and decide to go clandestine, putting on a black hooded sweatshirt to hide my weaponry and shielding and a pair of black pants.

  I leave the hut, fury and determination seething from me, and I look around the village for a sign that might direct me towards the kidnappers. Tempted as I am to pull out my compass, I know it can’t help me right now.

  I’m coming up short, so I decide to reach out to one of the village women in hopes for some type of clue.

  I walk up to one, standing outside of her hut, staring at the group of women still crying and holding onto each other.

  She looks at me unnervingly as I approach her, and she crosses her arms in defense.

  I reach my arms out with my palms facing upward, almost in surrender, to show that I’m not dangerous, and I silently pat myself on the back for wearing the black sweatshirt.

  I know she has seen me around, as I have her, so I’m most likely familiar to her at least in some capacity.

  But after tonight, I don’t blame her for being skittish around others, especially an outsider.

  “Do you know where the looters went?” I ask as sympathetically as possible.

  “Nini?”

  Ah, shit.

  She only speaks Swahili.

  Thanks to Addie, I’ve picked up a few words here and there, so hopefully I can piece together something for her.

  “Unajua where the looters walikwenda? Do you know where the looters went?” I repeat, just for certainty.

  “Ah,” she says, nodding her head.

  I smile tightly, hoping to keep her comfortable and willing to talk to me, and I feel a slight bit of hope in knowing we understand each other so I might get some information.

  “Nija hiyo,” she says, pointing to the southeast. “Kulikuwa na mengi.” She gestures a big circle with her hands that I denote as meaning ‘a lot’ or big.

  Fuck, that’ll be fun.

  “Asante, asante! Thank you!” I respond enthusiastically.

  I jump on the bike, and without a parting word, I head in the direction she pointed me to.

  Fortunately, I’m familiar with the grounds around the village, so finding my way doesn’t prove difficult.

  And as I reach the outskirts, I find tire tracks etched in the mud.

  That has to be them!

  I follow it, remaining exceedingly cautious, ready to kill the engine at a moment’s notice.

  The tracks become more aggressive with each passing mile, and my irritation thickens.

  I’ve been on these types of missions many times, but this time, the urgency is completely new to me.

  Knowing the kidnappers have the one thing I love and need adds to the severity of the situation, in addition to the pressure of successfully completing the mission.

  I see lights flickering a few hundred feet ahead of me, and I begin to hear faint sounds, mostly of people talking.

  The first thing I do is kill the bike and continue on foot, pushing the vehicle.

  In the distance, I see a lone building. Outside is a truck.

  It does not look like the headquarters of the operation, but it might just be where they’re holding my Adelaide.

  I crouch to the ground and continue following the tracks to get a better sense of what I’m looking at.

  As I close the distance, I’m able to decipher only one guard on the outside. The building is small. It can’t house more than five people.

  The hut is exposed, and it won’t be easy to sneak up.

  I scramble to come up with a new strategy on the fly and am empty handed.

  My frustration builds, and my anticipation becomes excruciating stifling, but I’m now keenly aware of my surroundings.

  I hear a noise, a rustling of mud and shrubbery from behind me. My ears perk up and my muscles tense.

  As I can attest, given that I am looking at them, the kidnappers are in front of me. So, whatever is approaching me from behind, I consider it threatening.

  I slowly turn towards the noise and hover my hand over a pistol on my belt, making sure I’m prepared for anything that might jump out at me—human or animal.

  Once I’m completely turned around, I’m met with two beady eyes, looking up at me.

  It’s Edgar.

  He had followed me without me knowing.

  Instinctively, I’m annoyed, not wanting to worry about another thing as I’m most concerned with getting Adelaide out alive, and back to me.

  Edgar, however adorable, can add stress to even the simplest of things.

  This is bound to not go well.

  But then, I melt, which I find myself doing often with him.

  And like a light bulb going off in my head, I realize he could be the perfect sidekick for this mission.

  Our Edgar can help me in getting my Adelaide back.

  Adelaide

  I force myself to look around.

  The stench is worse than anything I’ve experienced before. And I’ve experienced some of the worse condition. I mean filled bedpans smell better than this place.

  Urine, sweat, and stale vomit assault my nostrils. It’s nearly enough to make me puke.

  But if I vomit, I’ll only add to the awful smell.

  It’s difficult to work out how many my captors are. There’s very little light inside this tiny room I’m being held captive in.

  From the little I can see, there are maybe three or four of them.

  They look young.

  I doubt any of these thin-looking boys are the mastermind behind the kidnapping, if that is what it is. The room has the same bare dirt walls the mud huts in my village have, and yet I know we’re not there anymore.

  Once they grabbed me, gagged me, and put a bag over my head, I lost my bearings. And I know I was thrown into the back of a truck. It wasn’t a long drive, but a rough one.

  Of course, that means nothing. With the deluge only a short time before, the roads wash away quick, leaving huge potholes.

  My throat feels parched. I’m in desperate need of some water, but I won’t ask.

  Ironic, really, the minute Ford turns his back disaster strikes.

  Would he gloat if he knew?

  I doubt it. Ford was not the gloating type.

  If Ford had stayed…

  I stop the thought process. It’s useless.

  Ford was long gone. He wasn’t going to be able to do anything for me.

  Even if he hears about this, he’ll be back in the US and then what? It’s not like it’s a five-mi
nute cab ride to come and rescue me.

  No. I can’t count on Ford to come to my aide.

  Sten will be worried sick and spewing. He’ll be spewing because he warned me this would happen. At the same time though, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to me.

  I wonder what their plan is.

  No one has come and told me anything. I’m guessing they know who I am.

  What they won’t know is that Dad is a hard nut to crack. He won’t just give in to some ransom demand.

  On the contrary, Dad will move heaven and earth to make sure he won’t have to spend a dime on my release. His philosophy is simple: no one forces him to do anything.

  He hates terrorism. He hates the use of force to get what you want. Come to him with a good idea, business proposal, or something else you need money for, he’ll listen.

  Funny how people aren’t able to think outside the box.

  Yes, we have money, but no, we’re not unreasonable selfish people.

  I sigh and close my eyes again.

  With any luck, I’ll survive for at least the next day without water. I’m not sure how game I’m going to be to consume anything these people are going to offer me, if they’re going to offer me something.

  Movement at the tiny window high off the ground catches my attention.

  I fix my eyes there, but can’t see anything. Must have been my imagination.

  Anyway, it’s too soon for anything to be happening. I doubt these people—whoever they are—have even made contact with anyone in my family.

  Of course, I shouldn’t stare at the window; it might arouse suspicion. I let my eyes move over the ground. We’re definitely in a very basic mud hut here.

  The floor is plain dirt. A pebble lands at my foot.

  I gasp.

  One of the young boys looks over and points his gun at me.

  My heart rate increases, and I start to cough.

  Was the pebble my imagination, or was someone trying to send me a message? And if so, who?

  Oliver?

  I doubt it. That man was probably long gone.

  If I ever get to speak to Ford again, I’m going to tell him how useless Oliver had turned out to be.

  The boy who pointed his gun comes over to me.

  “You quiet,” he growls and threatens me with the weapon.

  I swallow.

  “Water,” I mumble for lack of something more intelligent to say.

  It’s intimidating to have the barrel of a gun in your face. Dad always told us that if we were to be kidnapped, no one would want to harm us since we were only of use alive. But I’m not so sure right now.

  Come to think of it, how many times did Dad ever get kidnapped?

  Luckily the boy loses interest and joins the others who seem to be arguing over something. It looks like one of them is holding a mobile phone and is trying to work out how to watch an important soccer match played today.

  I roll my eyes.

  How typical.

  Although, I know that should please me a little. If there’s an important soccer match going on, they’re not going to harm me today.

  It’s a silly thought really, but I grab it like a drowning man grabs a twig to save his life.

  And then there’s another pebble. This time I don’t look up.

  Instead, I try and slow my breathing and focus.

  What could be the meaning of this?

  With my mind working overtime, I don’t see him at first. In fact, for the briefest of seconds, I think I may be imagining him.

  But when he holds out a tiny flower for me to see, my heart practically tries to burst through my chest.

  If Edgar was here that could only mean one thing.

  He was here too. Ford had come to rescue me.

  I bite my lip so as not to throb.

  And then, before I know what’s happening, the small room fills with an awful smelling mist. It spreads quickly.

  Before I lose sight of those who are holding me captive, I see their worried faces and the confusion in their eyes.

  What follows is total chaos.

  There’s a massive bang, then the sound of bones breaking. If this is Ford coming in Rambo style, I already feel sorry for these boys.

  I want to scream but no sound escapes my lips. Instead, I’m gripped by a coughing fit.

  Before I recover, his hands are all over me.

  “Are you hurt? What did they do to you?”

  His eyes are right in front of me.

  “I’m fine,” I whisper and feel the tears roll down my cheek.

  With his right hand, he wipes them away, and then he kisses me.

  I’m not sure, but I think I can hear one of the young boys groan.

  Ford leaps to his feet, and I see his fist collide with the cheek of one of the young men.

  “Don’t,” I scream involuntarily.

  He looks at me.

  “Just don’t go over the top,” I whisper.

  Ford grabs some rope and quickly binds arms and legs.

  Then, he comes back to me, and with one swift movement, he cuts through my ties.

  I sigh and fall into his arms.

  He bear hugs me. In fact, he’s squeezing so tight I fear he might break a rib or two.

  “I’m fine,” I mumble over and over and feel Ford’s soft kisses on the top of my head.

  I’ve got about a million questions, but they’ll have to wait till later.

  “Let’s go,” says Ford and lifts me up.

  “I’m not hurt,” I say, and I snuggle into his chest and link my fingers behind his neck.

  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself stepping over this filth.”

  I stare at the poor boys, blood over their faces.

  “They aren’t to blame,” I whisper. “They were forced to do this. Poverty leaves people to do terrible things.”

  Ford says nothing.

  “How did you find me?”

  He pulls out a compass.

  “My best friend and closest work colleague left me this before he died. He told me it’ll always lead me to where I need to go.”

  I swallow. I’m sure there’s more to this story.

  Part of me also wants to know what of the man who masterminded this, but then again, maybe some knowledge is highly overrated.

  “Where’re we going?” I mutter into his shirt, but I don’t actually really care.

  As far I’m concerned, he can take me wherever he wants to.

  “Back to the village.” Ford explains.

  Outside, I squint in the bright sunlight.

  “Where’d you get this from?” I point at the rusty motorbike.

  “Long story,” he grunts.

  I’m pleased he hasn’t changed in the short amount of time we’ve been separated.

  He lowers me onto the bike and then looks around. He lets out a soft whistle, and Edgar appears by his side.

  I watch as he gives the little critter a treat.

  “Good thinking to send Edgar in first,” I say and wrap my arms around Ford’s waist as he gets the motorbike going.

  I survey our surroundings. We’re truly in the middle of nowhere. The boys had taken me to some long abandoned hut of a farmer somewhere between two villages.

  A shiver runs down my spine as I realize how lucky I’ve been to have Ford come back for me.

  This could have ended up far worse.

  Adelaide

  “Care for something hot, strong, and a little sweet?”

  I open my eyes and find myself face to face with Ford.

  “Morning,” I mumble and yawn.

  “Come on sleepy head, time to get the day under way.”

  Grumbling a little I roll over and pull the sheet up above my head.

  “Just a few more minutes.”

  Ford grabs the sheets and pulls them off me. I squeal and sit up.

  “What’s the rush?” I yawn again.

  “No rush, just time to get going and start the day, my dear.”

&nbs
p; He leans toward me, and I feel his lips on mine.

  “I made you a cup of tea. Just the way you like it. Strong, black, and a little sweet.”

  With a grin, I take the mug from him. I close my eyes and savor the smell of it before taking a sip.

  Mmm. Delicious.

  “I could get used to this,” I say and smile up at him.

  “Be my guest.”

  For a few minutes, I sip my tea in silence. Ford sits on the edge of our bed and just watches me.

  “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

  Of course, I know exactly what we’re doing today, but it doesn’t hurt to go over it.

  “I think the electrician is coming some time this morning to do his final check on the wiring before signing off and letting us officially open up for business.”

  I smile.

  “It’ll be good to work out of a proper hospital and not a make shift tent anymore.”

  Amazing really how far we’ve come in the last few months. After the kidnapping, Ford convinced me to speak to my family about putting some money into this village.

  He argued that my father was always looking for a worthwhile cause to support, and my cause was right up there.

  To my own surprise, Dad didn’t take much convincing.

  It was Sten who put up the biggest opposition. According to Sten, I should be on the next plane home and not leaving the family mansion, until one of his snobby friends has made an honest woman out of me.

  Of course, he felt better hearing that Ford was going to do just that.

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t making an honest woman out of me because there’s no talk of marriage. But Ford was staying and moving in with me.

  In the end, I don’t know who talked sense to Sten—Dad or Ford—but even he came around. Last month, he even dropped in for a visit. I think he wanted to see for himself exactly what I was getting myself into, and if Ford really was here with me.

  Dad also asked for a progress report so he could see exactly what his money has been spent on.

  I have to say, the building looks impressive.

  It has everything a little hospital would want. The best part, though, is the building right next door. Right next door to the new bush hospital is a nursing school.