Heartwood

by L. G. Pace III

  “We can’t even really prove she was abducted.” Frank finished, and fuming, I sat down my coffee mug with a shaky hand.

  “You could if you’d do your goddam jobs. You expect anyone to believe she went willingly? With a man who went to prison for stalking her? On the night she returned from her honeymoon.” My father spoke my thoughts through gritted teeth as if he was telepathic.

  There was a pause and the ‘good cop’ responded. “We have to entertain all theories.”

  “There were signs of a struggle all over the kitchen, you little prick. Her pepper spray, the fact that her phone and purse were left behind. What about the blood spatter in the kitchen?” My father could be intimidating when he was angry, and at that moment he sounded livid. “That girl you’re talking about is one hell of a mother. She would never have taken that baby anywhere without his car seat willingly. She certainly wouldn’t have abandoned her daughter.”

  A heavy silence settled in the other room and then Frank responded.

  “There are the things I know and the things I can prove. To be clear, sir, we are still looking. You asked for me to get down to brass tacks and that is what I am doing. If she went willingly, this is one hell of a mess. If she didn’t go willingly, then we may never find her.”

  “I understand.” My dad’s voice could have frozen a lake solid. “What I am saying, and you better listen to this pretty God damn carefully, is that you’d best put every resource you have into finding my daughter-in-law and my grandchild. If it comes down to expense, I will foot the bill. So take my word for it that she did not leave of her own free will. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal, sir.” Frank said. I heard footsteps and my father entered the kitchen. Seeing me he blanched and glanced nervously over his shoulder.

  “Son...I didn’t realize that you were in here. Did you...” I nodded.

  “I heard. And I agree that if we keep doing what we’re doing now the odds of finding them are very slim. I’m not ready to accept defeat. Have you had any luck on the...other options you mentioned?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the Feds were out of earshot. Motioning to me, he led me to the far side of the room by the sink.

  “I have a team assembled nearby. They’re using every option available to search for her and the boy. I figured it was best to keep you here working with the authorities.”

  “No.” He looked up in surprise at the steel in my voice. “This is not going to happen without me. Give me an hour to get things settled here and we can head over.”

  “All right, son.” He nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

  It was the only time in my life that my dad had ever acquiesced to my will. Had the situation not been so dire I would have been shocked. Leaving him in the kitchen, I went outside to talk to Mac.

  “Mac.”

  “Joe!” He practically jumped to his feet, brushing off the back of his jeans. “Any word?”

  I shook my head. “No, nothing yet. I need a favor.”

  Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “Name it.”

  “I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the house.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t planning on doing something stupid are you?”

  I gave him a solemn nod. “Yes, I am. But not in the way you think. My dad has some private contractors working on this. People that aren’t as restricted by the law.”

  Mac looked like he had expected almost anything else to come out of my mouth.

  “Black ops crap?” I nodded and he looked impressed. “I mean, I knew your old man was in the thick of things but I didn’t expect Deep Throat/Watergate—”

  “We don’t have a lot of time.” I interrupted. “Can you do it?”

  Pulling me into a quick embrace, Mac clapped me hard on the back.

  “You don’t even need to ask. I got this. You bring my little sister home.” I had just started back inside when he stopped me. “And Joe? When you find that son of a bitch...give me a call. We can take care of this as a family.”

  The intensely inclusive way he said it left me emotional. I thought of the little blonde baby inside the house and steeled myself. Nodding to him, I went inside to find Stacy. I found her in the living room with Tamryn and a new arrival.

  Dr. Greene.

  The two of them jumped to their feet like naughty teenagers who’d been caught making out. It was pretty obvious that they had been talking about me.

  “Joe” Tamryn began. “I called Dr. Greene. I hope you don’t mind. I thought the two of you could talk.”

  I shook the doc’s hand eagerly. I was glad to see him.

  “Hey, Doc.”

  “I just heard, Joe. Would you like to go into the other room and talk?”

  “No.” I replied, neutrally. Tamryn’s face sank into deep lines of disappointment while the doc simply nodded and shrugged.

  “Well, I’m here for a while. Or if you feel like talking later you can call me. I would be happy to stop back by.” I nodded at him and turned to Tamryn.

  “I need you to watch Eva.” Shock warred with concern on her face as she searched my eyes for some explanation for this request.

  “Why? Are you going to get some sleep?”

  “No. Dad has something in the works.” Lowering my voice I glanced at the doorway leading to the dining room and motioned for her to move away with me. Dr. Greene tagged along but I figure hell, doctor patient confidentiality. “He has some of his people trying to find Molly. I’m going to find her, but I need to know that you’re here with Eva. I have to know that she’s safe.”

  Tears welled in Tamryn’s eyes and she grabbed me by both arms.

  “You think he can find them?” She thought about what she had just said and nodded. “What the hell am I saying? Of course he can. Just...promise me that you will be careful, Jojo.”

  “I will.” It was all lies, but what else could I say? She was my sister, but I was going to war. I would have cut my own hand off to have them home safe. This barbaric bastard had once tried to drown my wife for wanting to soak in a bubble bath after a long day at work. He was psychotic and I was going to do whatever it took to stop him from hurting my family. No matter the cost. But if I went down, he was going with me.

  Dr. Greene waited for Tamryn to leave the room in search of Eva and then stepped up next to me.

  “Joe...”

  “What?” I snapped the word out and he recoiled at the anger in my voice.

  “Well, that makes me feel better. At least I know you’re exercising control over your emotions. I was afraid you might be completely suppressing them.”

  “No, doc. I feel like shit. Deeply. Strike that. Shit has a complete leg up on how I feel right now. But there is no way in hell I’m going to sit around and wait for someone to find Molly for me. And with all due respect, I don’t have time to analyze any of this. You can either get the fuck out of my way or you can try to stop me. Which is it going to be?”

  To his credit the doc didn’t shrink back from me one bit as my voice dropped to a dangerous growl. Instead, he raised a mollifying hand toward me.

  “Neither, Joe. I’d like to come along.”

  THE SMELL OF minced garlic, chopped onions, and tomatoes permeated every corner of the rickety old house. A storm raged outside, and the wind howled eerily. I felt the house shift in response to nature’s fury, and I wondered if the roof would just blow right off.

  I gave the sauce a quick stir and moved on to chopping mushrooms. I wished they were poisonous. I’d looked for something to poison him with, but could find nothing that wouldn’t taste strange.

  I could feel Draven’s watchful eyes on me, and I wracked my brain to remember what day it was. I’d tried to mark on my bedside table with my fingernail each morning, but since my head had ricocheted off the wall, my brain had been a little fuzzy. I wasn’t positive how long I’d been in this little hell house, but I thought it had been four or five days. That meant it was now November.

  This cert
ainly explained the cold snap and all the rain. Draven hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Not being a Texan, he didn’t realize it actually got cold down here. He had flimsy little blankets on the beds that looked beautiful but served no true purpose. After spending a bitter night rolled up like a tamale and worrying that my baby might die of exposure, I offered to give Draven a back rub. He’d always been a sucker for that kind of doting, and I needed to butter him up so I could sweet-talk him into getting some necessities for Logan.

  When Draven first took me into Logan’s room, I was shocked to see him lying on top of a sleeping bag on the floor. Though I hated to give Draven ammunition by showing weakness, I started to cry. This was immediately after Draven patched up my face, and I didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat, especially with Logan in the room. The night before, when I was too horse to scream and Logan had quit crying, I’d heard rodents scurrying in the walls. My mind raced with all manner of concerns. I was terrified he was going to get bit by something or contract a disease.

  Draven responded by handing me a lukewarm bottle and leaving me locked in Logan’s room with him. I immediately stripped him down and checked him over. No bites, no diaper rash, and he only seemed mildly interested in his bottle. I was astonished. Draven had obviously fed and changed him the night before. Logan didn’t have a mark on him and he cuddled happily against my breast. I was so relieved, I burst into happy tears and spent all afternoon loving on him. My tension somewhat relieved, I didn’t trouble myself with scheming or planning an escape. I cuddled Logan against me on the sleeping bag and had just fallen back to sleep when Draven came back into the room.

  “Come cook me dinner.” He offered me his hand, his expression all business. I gently settled Logan back onto the sleeping bag, and braced myself for whatever was coming. He took my hand and led me to the lower level of the house.

  Though he didn’t have a decent blanket in the house and had my infant son sleeping on the floor, Draven had stocked the ancient kitchen with all of his favorite things. I had no trouble pulling together a meal he’d like. He made a big production as he savored it. He poured his compliments on me like honey. I’d heard it all before and knew the pendulum would soon swing back in the opposite direction.

  As my reward for a job well done, he allowed me to eat with him and even brought Logan down from his bleak prison so that I could try to feed him something solid. Draven laughed at Logan’s reaction to most of the vegetables I gave him. I didn’t know what to think. When Logan grimaced, pulled a mushroom from his mouth, and flung it on the floor Draven cackled and even stated unabashedly “He’s cute.”

  He came into the room with me as I tucked Logan in. I did my best to wrap him in the sleeping bag and hoped he wouldn’t get tangled up and suffocate. I silently debated if it was the right thing to do, but I figured it was better than leaving him uncovered all together.

  I stared down at his peaceful face, and gave him a quick kiss. Draven hovered behind me, and suddenly wrapped his arms around me as if we were having a family moment.

  “He’s the spitting image of you.” He whispered, his tone loving and calm. He reached down and trailed his finger down Logan’s nose, stopping in the small indentation just above his lips.

  “Do you know what my father used to say?” He asked, pressing his lips against my hair. I felt like a cornered animal, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I shook my head. Draven almost never talked about his father, but when he did, it was with admiration.

  “He said that the reason we have this...” He ran his finger over the space between Logan’s tiny nose and his pouty upper lip “Is because just before we’re born, the angels press a finger right here and say ‘shhhhh’. That’s when we forget all the secrets of heaven and all the answers to the mysteries that plague us our whole lives.”

  I looked up at him, surprised by this confession. Draven’s family took their Catholicism seriously, though they clearly never put any of the teachings into practice. He took my eye contact as an invitation, and kissed me as if I were fragile glass.

  I knew by the way he kept invading my personal space that he wanted sex. Luckily, I’d started my period that same morning he’d patched me up, due to my carefully planned wedding. I’d considered my cycle when picking the wedding date. Though I hadn’t originally planned for the honeymoon, I did not want to be in need of tampons on my wedding night. Thankfully, I still had some pads in an inner pocket of Logan’s bag from when the twins were newborns. I’d put one on as soon a Draven left me alone with Logan. I knew Draven wouldn’t rape me now, at least not for a few days. He’s always been way too OCD to want sex from a bleeding woman.

  He unlocked my door and came into my room with me. Before I could utter a single word, he pushed me onto the bed. He pounced on top of me, grinding his hips aggressively into mine. I was half on/half off the single bed, my head and shoulders were bent at an awkward angle. It was very uncomfortable. The bed squeaked loudly, and I was sure it would collapse.

  “Drae...” I started, but his mouth was on my neck sucking so hard it hurt.

  “God, you smell good.” His mouth was on my nipple, and his rested his head against my chest. “And your heart...it’s beating so fast. You missed this too, didn’t you Doll?”

  My heart was racing alright, but due to a combination of pain and fear. I was afraid of what he’d do when I dropped the bomb on him. He was fumbling to unbutton his pants. I finally dug deep for the courage and blurted the words out.

  “I’m bleeding.”

  He froze, surveying me sardonically. “Bullshit.”

  To my surprise, he reached down between my legs. I thought he was just feeling for the pad, but his fingers slipped right past it and inside my panties. He stroked his fingers against the cluster of nerves, and then slid them in and out of me several times. My eyes widened and my brow furrowed. I felt more shocked than violated. My Draven would have never done this. He was repulsed by the idea of menstruation, and barely touched me when he knew I was having it. I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. The look in them was maniacal as he brought his reddened finger up between our faces for us both to see.

  “Well, what do you know? You are capable of telling the truth.” He smiled with smug satisfaction, as if I’d passed some test to which only he had the answer key. He instantly climbed off of me and left the room, most likely to wash his hands fifty three times.

  I released a loud, relieved exhale at his exit, but it was a long time before my heart rate returned to normal. For the first time in my life I thanked Eve for sampling that apple. The lady curse had just bought me a few more days before I’d have to cross that awful bridge. I figured it bought me time to think, however he returned a short time later and informed me he wanted to lie with me for a while.

  This particular incident was one of the most disturbing times I’d ever experienced with Draven...even more than when he’d hit me. His intense gaze and his wandering hands were hard to bear, but I managed not to cringe away. My lip was still too messed up for him to kiss me on the mouth or for him to expect me to use it for other things, thank God. This didn’t stop him from sucking painfully on my nipple and the following morning I discovered he’d bruised it.

  He was bright enough not to sleep in my room, which showed some healthy level of paranoia on his part. He didn’t want to fall asleep near me. He had excellent instincts in that regard. It was fine by me though; the feeling was mutual.

  So the following afternoon after lunch, I gave him his back rub, which turned into a full body massage. Halfway through, he rolled over and pulled my hand between his legs, making it clear he wanted me to rub something else. I’m ashamed to admit that I did what he wanted without hesitating. It was that or have my baby sleep blanket-less for another frigid night. I hoped with all my heart that Joe wouldn’t fault me for that decision. At the time, it really didn’t feel like a decision at all.

  It didn’t take long to satisfy Draven. He’d always gotten his rocks off by being in c
ontrol, and I’d never been more powerless. Afterward, I felt dirty... wretched. My self-loathing only compounded when he pulled me down to lie beside him, wrapping his arm around me as if what we’d just done was somehow consensual.

  “You’re amazing.” He said as he lit a cigarette. I decided to take the opportunity to state my case. Draven was never more reasonable than after he came. He smoked and listened silently while I explained my concerns about Logan’s sleeping arrangement. When I made the suggestion that Logan sleep with me, Draven immediately said no.

  He exhaled a long stream of smoke and when he spoke again, there wasn’t even a trace of bitterness in his voice. “You haven’t earned that yet, Doll.”

  He smashed out his cigarette.

  “Come on. We’re both covered in oil.” He led me to the bathroom and stripped off my soiled, bloody clothing. He made me shower with him, and he took his time soaping every inch of my body. I wanted to fight him, but he outweighed me by a hundred pounds. I had no choice but to let him, and it was a whole new level of degradation.

  When he washed my hair, I winced as his fingers massaged the spot where my head had connected with the wall.

  “Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice a soft caress. It was a serious question, as if he didn’t remember the incident. I shook my head, but I felt as if someone had walked over my grave.

  The scent of the shampoo was familiar, a floral type I used to use when we first started seeing one another. He’d remembered, and that might have been touching in another place and time. While I understood the sentiment...the need to set the scene...to recapture the moment...it was wildly out of place there and then. I’d done something similar with my wedding reception, which now seemed like decades ago. Every taste, sight, and sound was meant to culminate in the perfect new beginning, dressed up in the trappings of the past...reminders of how we’d come to be there.

  Drae had taken this same concept and skewed it, twisting it into a haunting exhumation of our tumultuous pairing. However, instead of feeling like a new beginning, his spectacle had all the reverence of a memorial service.