by Linda Palmer
“So they all had on Wolfman masks.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m right. Fuck!” He sat up and got up. That did it. I put down the comb. “Talk to me, Brody Anderson."
Brody walked over to the table, where he plopped down in one of the chairs. “It's a long story.”
“I'm waiting.”
"Goes back a ways."
"I'm listening."
He sighed. “It all began the summer after my junior year, when a guy named Titus Leopold tur—I mean recruited me into his gang.”
I frowned. "What kind of gang are we talking here?"
"The kind that's nothing but trouble."
"Define 'trouble.'"
"Armed robbery, grand theft auto, drugs, alcohol—" I heard the words, but couldn't connect them to the guy in front of me. "This sounds like a big fat fairy tale."
"Wish it was."
"So you've done things you could go to jail for?" He hesitated before answering. "Yeah."
"What things?"
"All you need to know is that I'm not a nice guy, okay? I believe I told you that the night we met. I mean, I tried to warn you."
"Didn't care then. Don't care now."
"But—"
I put a finger to my lips to shush him, then slid off the bed and walked over so I could frame his face in my hands.
"Everyone makes mistakes."
He jerked his head back. "Oh yeah? Tell me one of yours."
"Highlighting my hair in the ninth grade."
"This isn't a joke!"
"I know. I'm just trying to get you to lighten up. You're obviously a different person now. That's all behind you."
"What makes you say that?"
"You wouldn't be so paranoid if you were still in the gang." Brody jumped up so fast I stepped back in alarm. He grabbed me by the wrists and jerked me up close. "Listen to me, Cassidy. You are in very real danger from these guys." So we were back to that. "Because...?"
He released me. "They know we're friends."
"So they kidnapped one of your 'friends,' but never told you, hoping what...?"
"To make a point."
"Which is...?"
"They're watching me."
"So you aren't in the gang anymore."
"No."
"Now we're getting somewhere." I sat in the chair opposite to where he'd been sitting and patted the tabletop on his side.
"Sit."
He did.
"When did you leave them?"
"January."
"Why?"
"Titus went down, which broke up the gang. Well, mostly. The ones of us who wanted out used that opportunity to bail. Some of the others went their own way. Some stayed put under a new leader."
"Are you saying this Titus guy died?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
"Some of the gang turned on him."
"Were you one of them?"
He shook his head. "Wasn't there."
"Are all the former gang members being threatened?"
"I've only talked to a guy named Rhyan Knox. He's on an Indian reservation in Oklahoma or somewhere with problems of his own. But his situation is unique, so that may not count."
"Unique how?"
Brody wouldn't answer.
"So it's just you they're after. Why? What do they want?"
"My skills. I'm a good strategist and a better fighter. Their best, actually. Plus, I have other talents they consider valuable." I didn't doubt that.
"And the younger guys respect me for some reason." He frowned. "Did you get any sense of age when you were kidnapped?"
"They were definitely grown men. Way older than us." He nodded. "Because they had a serious job to do. But all jobs aren't so critical, which is where the younger, uneducated members come in. They'll follow any leader, but sometimes they just don't get what he really wants. That's when someone like me is an asset. I'd be the go-between—the guy who breaks down the assignment into workable tasks and then gets them all done."
That gave me the shivers. "Then they definitely want you back."
"Yeah."
"Wouldn't a bribe of some kind work better?" Brody laughed. "They tried that already. Didn't work."
"It still seems like a stretch for them to kidnap me, a girl you'd known what—a couple of hours total?—to make their point."
"I'd been keeping to myself until you. They took my sudden interest the wrong way, I guess."
"And now I'm screwed, too."
"Pretty much. And it's totally my fault. I mean, I knew better. I really did. I planned to lay low and get my GED. Find a job. I knew once I contacted Mom, she could let me know whenever there was any kind of threat. I figured I could disappear whenever I needed to." He gave me a rueful smile.
"Then you walked up with that big ol' smile, and all my plans bit the dust." He shut his eyes and sat back in the chair with his head resting against the wall. I saw the weariness that etched his face, and without making a sound, moved around the table to sit on his knee. His eyes flew open.
"My big smile, huh?"
He grinned and began to study the table.
"Brody Anderson, did I dream you said you loved me? And do not lie."
The grin vanished. Clearly, he did not want to answer my question.
"Did you or didn't you say it?" I asked.
"Shit, Cass...."
"Tell me!" I reached up and popped the top of his head with my hand. Hard.
He ducked too late. "Ouch! Okay. All right. I said it."
"Did you mean it?"
"Yeah."
That was all I needed to hear. I grabbed his face and planted a great big kiss right on his mouth. Though he initially resisted, he quickly got into the moment, deepening the contact until I dragged him to the bed, where I as good as attacked him. The kisses got deeper and better until I felt his hand slip under my shirt and the AC blasted my bare butt. I gasped. He tensed. A quick twist put me flat on my back. He escaped to his chair, where he collapsed, breathing like a runner after a three-mile sprint.
"You really need underwear," he said. "And I don't think mine will fit."
"So buy me some." I pulled down the tee with a huff of exasperation and headed to the bathroom. The outside door closed as if he'd gone, but opened again almost immediately.
Just as I peeked out of the bathroom to see why, Brody stepped into it. We collided in the doorway.
"Oops!"
"Sorry."
I took a deep breath. "I thought you were gone."
"I have to ask you something first."
"Size small panties, pants, and top. Thirty-two C bra, if you can find one. B if you can't. And clean socks would be nice, too."
"Not that."
"Then what?"
"Do you love me back?"
"You couldn't tell?"
"Just checking. You seem different than before. Reckless almost. I thought maybe you were—" He shook his head. "I don't know. Screwing with me or something, no pun intended." I set his mind at ease. "I love you so much, Brody Anderson."
He grinned. "Love you, too."
As he exited the room—whistling, no less—I thought about what he'd said. Was I different? Admittedly, before now I'd never have considered having sex so soon. Not even with hottie him. But then I'd always been a cautious girl, thinking ahead to a fault. So something had changed. Or was it just some one?
As in Cassidy Norris.
Fives days in a crypt had given me time to think. I'd realized that no matter how carefully I planned my life, it could still turn on a dime. So what was important to me yesterday meant nothing today. I intended to live in the moment.
"Do I know everything there is to know now?" I asked. Brody and I lay cuddled on the lumpy mattress watching a TV
with the worst reception I'd ever seen. I wore navy blue workout pants and a tee that fit well enough if not perfectly, so I definitely felt better. My hair was finally dry, which helped, too.
"I left out some
minor details."
"So it would be okay to phone my parents to call off the girl hunt?"
He hesitated before answering. "Tell me about them first." Though I really hated to go there, I confessed my less-thanperfect relationship with Mom and Dad. Not that I didn't love them. I did, and they loved me. Just in their own way, this was usually from a distance.
Brody looked at me in visible disbelief. "I don't get it. How could they not want to be with you every second of every day?"
"Because they never meant to have me in the first place, I guess. I know for a fact the pregnancy was a shocker and a setback to my mom's legal career. It was also the reason they married."
"Well, the fact that your pro-choice parents went ahead and had you says something."
"Actually Mom didn't realize she was pregnant until she was six months along. She told me her periods were so irregular she didn't think anything about not having one."
"Could we please not talk about periods?" I laughed. "Sorry. So I can call my folks?" He hesitated again.
"You're still keeping secrets, aren't you?" Brody sat up and scooted to sit on the side of the bed. I crawled over and did the same.
"Aren't you?" I repeated.
"Here's the deal, Cass. Mom told me not to trust anyone. She said the threat was not what it seemed."
"Meaning?"
"Not sure since there are so many ways to look at this. If I assume le bras du loup, which is the gang's fancy name, is to blame, that means someone else did it. Possibly enemies of your dad or mom. But if you assume that enemies of your dad or mom did it, then the gang really could be the bad guys."
"You're giving me a headache."
"But you understand why I'm worried?"
"Not really. My parents, themselves, are not in either scenario, right?"
"Not directly, no."
"I should definitely call them. It's what...? Eight o'clock?
They're undoubtedly at home by now and organizing a nationwide search. I don't want anyone to think you had anything to do with what happened to me."
He sighed and handed me his cell phone. As I took it and punched in our house number, my heart began pounding in my chest. I wondered briefly if that was because I feared my parents had received a note and refused to pay the ransom. News like that would be hard to take. In fact, I might never forgive them. Further complicating things was my guilt at even considering such a thing. I had to be the most ungrateful daughter in the world. My parents loved me, and that was that. The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally, the machine picked up. I left a message for Iris, telling her I was on a road trip and wasn't sure when I'd be home.
I next punched in Mom's cell number.
"Cassandra Winfrey-Norris."
"Hey, Mom."
"Cassidy, honey, may I call you back in a couple of hours?
I'm just about to join a panel of speakers at the 'Women's Rights Now' banquet."
"Oh. Um, sure. I just wanted you to know that I'm fine."
"Great. Would you keep an eye out for the UPS guy? I bought a new dress that should be there by Thursday. Talk to you later."
I flipped the phone shut and looked at Brody. "She doesn't know."
"Try your dad."
Should I? Nothing irritated him more than a phone call when he was in the middle of something important, which was basically every single minute. Reluctantly, I punched in his number. Just as it rang on his end, Brody took the phone, poked the speaker button, and held it so we both could hear.
"Lucas Norris."
"Hi, Dad. It's Cass."
"Hello, Cassidy."
"I was just calling to let you know I'm fine." Dead silence followed that.
"Dad?"
"Sorry. Can you hold on a second? Melissa, I need this faxed now. Carl, call Senator Davidson and confirm dinner. Jennifer, you know I take my coffee black." I heard some girl apologizing in the background. "Now what did you want?"
"Are you talking to me?" I asked, frustrated.
"Yes."
"Then I want you to know that I'm okay."
Dead silence.
"Dad!"
"I'm here."
"And I'm okay."
"I really have to go. Senator Dodd has flip-flopped. The vote is tomorrow—"
I ended the call. Tears welled up in my eyes. I turned my head so Brody wouldn't see them and thrust the phone at him. He caught my wrist, successfully stopping the escape I was about to make.
"They're idiots, Cass. Both of them."
I couldn't even answer. Twisting my arm free, I darted for the bathroom. He beat me there and blocked the door. The pity on his face did me in. Bursting into tears, I tried to duck around him. Didn't work. Brody tossed his cell and began to kiss each tear streaming down my face. I gave in to sensation, cherishing the love that flowed from him into me, but never really kissed him back until he pinned me to the wall with his entire body. That's when I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We kissed and kissed and kissed, and if Brody minded the salty taste, he never complained.
I don't know how we made it to the bed. I just know that Brody didn't try anything once we got there. Instead, he just held on until I didn't have another tear to cry. Safe and emotionally spent, I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The room was dark when I opened my eyes again. Brody lay on his side right next to me, on top of the covers, as usual. His arm draped over my body. Assuming he slept, I gently raised it so I could ease off the bed. He tightened the embrace.
"Where are you going?"
"To pee."
He released me. I went and did my thing and found him right where I left him when I got back to the bed and under the covers. He raised his arm. I slid under it and curled back against his body, so wishing there weren't blankets between us. He pulled me up tight.
"Cass?"
"Hm?"
"Just so you know you're not the only one with imperfect parents. My dad's in prison for racketeering; my mom runs a psychic hotline."
"At least she's the 'real deal'."
"Yeah, but I'd much rather she waited tables or something. You can't imagine the humiliation I suffered in high school when one of my classmates stumbled onto her web site."
"Actually, I can. My mom defended Crazy Carl Clemmons in her younger days."
Brody sucked in a shocked breath. "The serial killer?"
"Yep. Try living that down."
He shook his head. "What should we do now, Cass? We can't stay here much longer. Whoever kidnapped you is going to check your status at some point. If it's a Wolfman, I want to be more than five miles from that cemetery when it happens. I have to park the truck around back as it is."
I thought for a minute. "What time is it?"
"Eleven p.m. Why?"
"I want to call my uncle Max."
Brody retrieved his cell from his pocket and handed it to me without comment. I punched in Max's number. Brody took the phone back and hit the speaker button, I wasn’t sure why. Maybe so he’d be able to help me if I fell apart again, this was so not going to happen. Max loved me.
" Hel-lo."
His heavy emphasis on the first syllable always made me smile. "Hi, Max. It's Cassidy."
"Cass! Where the hell have you been? I've called and called and called..."
My eyes filled in response to the relief in his voice. "I was kidnapped Tuesday night. It was so awful—"
"Say again...?"
"I was kidnapped."
"What!"
"Yeah. I'd just walked inside the guest house—"
"What guest house?"
"Ours. I mean mine. Dad had it built." I explained the arrangement.
"Oh. Go on..."
"Some guys wearing Wolf men masks were waiting in the dark."
Max sucked in a sharp breath.
"They took me—" Vivid memories of that night suddenly filled my head. I saw the masks, the SUV, the crypt, that creepy dark crypt with a body, all the bugs, and that awful bucket. I
tried to verbalize these horrors, but couldn't find the words.
"Holy shit, Cass! How'd you get out?"
"My boyfriend saved me."
There was a long pause. "Since when do you have a boyfriend?"
"Since now." Sniff. Deep breath. "So you didn't know what happened?"
"How could I possibly?"
"I thought maybe they sent a note or something."
"Not to me. Have you called Lucas? Cassandra?"
"Yeah. They didn't know either, and I didn't tell them. So they wouldn't, you know, drop everything and rush home." As if.
Max didn't say anything. I hoped it wasn't because he doubted they'd do that, too. It was bad enough that I thought it.
"Maybe there's a note in the mail."
"Maybe, but you'd think they'd try another approach if that didn't work right away."
"If ransom was the goal…"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Everything." I sighed.
"Where are you?"
"New Mexico. Where are you?"
"Still in Vegas. When are you coming home?"
"I don't really know. You?"
"In a couple of weeks, but I can come now if you need me."
"No."
"Sure?"
"Yeah. Look, don't tell anyone what happened, okay?"
"Won't Iris be worried?"
"No," I told him. "She promised to give me space. So can this be our secret?"
"You don't think the police should be notified?"
"No. At least, not yet."
"Okay. You're the boss. Love ya, girl."
"Love you, too."
"Make sure that boyfriend wears a raincoat."
I felt my cheeks flush. "Shut up." I flipped the phone shut and handed it to Brody, who had his head propped on his arm.
"Raincoat?" he asked.
"Condom. When my usually very-plainspoken mom had the birds and bees talk with me, she just couldn't say the word. So she said 'raincoat' instead, which Max and I shared a big laugh about later. In case you hadn't noticed, I usually say what I think, too."
“No shit.”
I laughed. "We should probably go home."
"Yeah? Why?"
"School starts in a month. I need to get a job and find an apartment. Or maybe I'll just move in with you." He ignored that. "Slicing the ol' apron strings, huh?"
