by Kristen Echo
The sun had disappeared behind the clouds when she finally left the market. She grabbed a sandwich and some groceries to eat at home. When she arrived at the condo, she was frozen. She swiped a blanket from the hall closet and wrapped it around herself. A cup of tea helped warm her, and she was glad to be inside. She’d done as requested and sent Martin pictures throughout the day. The day was officially over, and she took one last photo of herself at the computer with the caption: Play time’s over.
She took off the wig and set it on the table. Her phone buzzed. Martin sent her a picture of himself half naked. Joe and Theo were scrunched in beside him in what looked to be a hot tub. He followed that up with a text message.
“Wish you were here, getting wet with me.”
How could she not turn that into something naughty? He partly got his wish because she was wet. That photo, his bare chest and wicked smile were enough to dampen her panties. She needed a distraction. Work always helped pass the time. She booted her laptop and checked emails.
The next time her phone vibrated it wasn’t Martin. Renny had some nerve calling her again. His calls weren’t welcomed anymore. She finally did what she should have done ages ago and blocked his number. She smiled as she set her phone aside and put the finishing touches on a client’s website. Another project completed, and she sent off the invoice. Making money while traveling was great.
It was after midnight when she retired to the couch and turned on the big screen TV. She flipped through the channels and sat up straighter when a picture of Kimber flashed across the screen. The news headline read missing. She turned up the volume.
The reporter looked down at their notes. “And has not been seen. If anyone has any information about this missing teen please call. Her family reported seeing her in the morning before school and say she has no history of running away. The school informed authorities she never made it to class. The police are asking for your help. If you’ve seen this girl, please contact the number on the screen.”
Sylvie raced to the table and grabbed her phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed the number. She followed the prompts for non-emergency issues. She pressed countless buttons until someone finally answered.
“Hi, has the missing girl been found yet? I was with her. Kimber… I mean, this afternoon at the Forks.”
“Okay, ma’am slow down and say that again, I couldn’t understand you with your accent. Please give me your name.”
She exhaled and tried again. “My name is Sylvie Lamont.” She spelled it out for the lady. “Has the missing girl on the news been found?”
“Unfortunately, not yet. Do you have information regarding her whereabouts?”
“Yes. I was with Kimber this afternoon at the downtown market. I can send you a photo. We shared mini donuts and talked about her boy problems. It was around three or four when she left to go home. I saw her walk in the parking lot towards the bus stop. I looked away and then she'd disappeared. There was a white truck. I think it was white. Do you think someone took her?”
“What is your relationship with the girl? Can you provide information about her state of mind?”
The questions made little sense, but she answered. “We met this afternoon. I don’t know her well; we shared a seat and got to talking. She was crying and sad about a recent breakup. But when she left, she was laughing and not crying anymore.”
“One moment,” the lady said. “Confirmed sighting this afternoon. The girl was fine. Another possible runaway or suicide.” She must have tried to cover the receiver because the words were muffled but Sylvie heard them.
“No! Kimber didn’t run away. She told me she was going home, and she planned to go to her school’s Valentine’s Day dance. Okay, she didn’t say those exact words. I don’t remember, but you have to believe me; this girl didn’t strike me as suicidal.”
“What is your profession ma’am?”
“I’m a website developer and online marketer. But after spending time with Kimber I didn’t get the feeling she planned to end her life. That makes little sense. Plus, her mitten was in the snow.” Sylvie smacked her forehead. She should have gone after the truck when she saw it there. “I saw a white truck leaving the parking lot. I’m sure it was a white four door older model truck.”
“Did you get the license plate?”
“No.” She deflated on the couch. The poor girl had been taken, and she was the last person to see her.
“I will ask you to recount the time you spent with her and try as best you can to provide as many details as possible. We are looking into all leads at the moment. But if she doesn’t want to be found then that makes our job tougher. Don’t go jumping to conclusions and thinking the worst. According to her parents, the girl emptied her savings drawer and there were clothes missing. Now, start from the beginning and tell me what time you met.” The police talked circles around her for another hour. They took her official statement and asked her to leave her contact information with them.
It was obvious based on Kimber’s mental state they didn’t suspect foul play. After hanging up, she texted Martin and told him she needed him and that she was scared. Not for herself, but for the young girl.
A moment later her phone rang, and she answered Martin’s call.
“Sylvie, what’s wrong? Your text said you’re frightened. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Well no, that’s not true. I’m freaked out because I’m positive I saw a young girl get abducted today, but the police won’t believe me.”
“Fuck. I’m here for you. Tell me everything.” His voice was groggy because she’d woken him.
She recounted her day and told him about her conversation with the cops. By the end she was shaking, and the blanket didn’t help. “What do I do? She’s only fifteen; she has an entire life to live.”
“You did the right thing calling the cops. The rest is up to them. They have more facts than you do. What you saw could be nothing; you don’t know that for sure. You said yourself, her bag was full, so there’s a chance she ran away. Try to get some sleep. Maybe you’ll have a new perspective in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep. I’m too wired, thinking about what could happen to that girl right now. It could have just as easily been me missing. What if I’d gone after her? I could’ve saved her.”
“Stop. You said the truck had pulled out of the lot already. You never would have stopped them and you’re not even sure she didn’t go willingly with whoever drove the truck. Don’t beat yourself up about what-if’s. If the police think she ran away, then there’s a good chance she did. Please try to calm down.”
Listening to Martin’s logic helped her calm down. “Your voice helps. I’m sorry I woke you with this, but I—”
“Close your eyes and let me tell you a story. Remember when we were kids, and you’d call me when you couldn’t sleep because your parents were fighting. Get into bed and I’ll keep you company until you fall asleep.”
She smiled, remembering those bad nights and how he helped her through them. His stories were always about hockey and she loved them. Her dad left when she was eleven and never came back. It had been rough, but Martin was there for her. Best friends helped each other through the good and the bad. “Thank you. Je t’aime pour toujours. Good night.” Sylvie crawled into his bed and closed her eyes.
“You too… Always. Sweet dreams, ma belle. The puck slid against the blade of the stick. With next to no backswing, this young girl sent it past the crease and scored against me. No one’s wrist shot is like yours Sylvie. Guys try hard to kill me with their slap shots, but no matter what they do, I’m not letting them in. I’ve been practicing with some lighting speed pucks. The faster they come, the quicker I shut them down. Last week, Montagne…”
CHAPTER SEVEN
T he day didn’t provide any new perspective. Work kept her mind occupied throughout the day. She worried about Kimber and the news offered no updates. The missing teenager wasn’t mentioned at all. She scrolled through several onl
ine articles, but there was nothing new.
She watched the hockey game in the evening and cringed when Martin let the winning goal sail past his pads. He only allowed two goals, but the other goaltender only let one slip into the net. She knew Martin wouldn’t be happy about his performance. He took every loss personally. Hockey was a team sport, but goalies could make or break a game. A goalie having a bad night spelled disaster for any team. Not that Martin played badly, he rocked the net, but he wouldn’t see it that way. The loss didn’t hurt their play for the cup. They had their playoff spot in the bag.
As she waited for Martin to come home, she checked her email again. One new email stuck out from the others. It came from Renny a few minutes earlier. It was morning in his part of the world and she wondered what he wanted. He’d never tried contacting her that way before. Not once in the eight months they’d been apart. The mouse hovered over the message. He hadn’t even put enough effort to add a subject line.
The bastard probably figured she’d open anything he sent her, like she was a dog begging for his scraps. Why bother reaching out now? It was as if he had a sixth sense and could tell she was finally moving on. Instead of being hurt and overwhelmed with sadness, she got pissed off. She deleted the message without opening it and closed the laptop.
A moment later the door opened. She pushed away from the table as Martin spoke. “Salut, ma belle. I’m home.”
At the sound of his voice, the temperature in the condo increased by several degrees. “Martin,” she said as she pummeled into him. “I’m so glad you’re home, safe and sound.” With everything that happened to Kimber, she needed to feel him in her arms; see his face to know he was safe.
He chuckled. “It’s late. I didn’t expect you to still be awake.”
Some anxiety she’d been holding onto dissipated as he hugged her back. “I couldn’t sleep. How are you?” Her grip around him tightened.
“My game sucked, as I’m sure you saw. I fucking missed an easy one. Ivarsson and Smith crowded me, but I can’t even blame them. That loss was totally my fault.”
She looked up and gripped his freshly shaved chin, tilting his face towards her. “No, it’s not. Two goals can’t be considered a bad game. Did you look at your stats? Don’t answer that because I know you never do. Do you blame Montagne, Larson, Crozier or any of the other guys for not scoring more? No, you don’t because that would be stupid. It takes a team to win a game and you know this.”
His frown eased. “Have I told you how much I love having you here?” Their eyes locked.
Her heart pounded faster. The instant reaction still surprised her. One half smile was enough to send her into a sexual tizzy. “I’m happy to be here too.” She swallowed hard. “Are you… um, ready for bed?” She had dressed for bed hours ago, but waited for him. Knowing they were about to be half naked in bed in a matter of moments didn’t slow her pulse.
“I see you’re wearing my jersey again. It looks good on you.” He checked her out and smiled. “No garter and tights tonight?”
She blushed, recalling the last time he’d seen her. “Not tonight.” That would have been a good time to bring up what he’d seen. She had a lineup of excuses to avoid that subject, but life was too short to put anything off. “Are you disappointed?”
“You could never disappoint me, Sylvie.”
“That’s a sweet thing to say.”
“It’s the truth,” he yawned. “Do you mind if I crash? I played a shit game and had a long flight. I’m exhausted.”
“Not at all. Thanks to you I managed a few hours of sleep last night, but I woke up early, hoping to hear Kimber was all right.” He’d given her the perfect opportunity to ask him about the last time he saw her wearing his clothes, but she chickened out and changed the subject.
Martin brought his bag into the bedroom and she followed behind. The suit he wore fit him like a glove. “Any news?”
“No. The last report I read, said another teen runaway. Apparently, the city has a rash of missing teenagers lately. Each case seems plausible as in the kids all had problems. But what teenager doesn’t? I checked out a couple of online forums and kids think it’s cool. Like running away from home is a new fad. I’m not sure that’s what happened to Kimber, but I hope she’s okay.” She crawled into the bed and watched him undress.
He didn’t try to be sexy, but all his moves became erotic. He chewed his bottom lip as he removed his tie. The deal she made to kiss Martin came to mind. Would she have to hold up her end of the bargain if Kimber didn’t? What a horrible thought, of course she would. She’d never once backed down from a deal yet. She took a deep breath and exhaled in a huff as Martin stripped.
Shedding layers of his suit revealed more tanned muscles. Her eyes stayed glued to his back, hoping he’d take it all off. He disappeared into the walk-in closet and came out in a pair of black sweats. The color matched his hair. He made the casual pants unbelievably sensual.
“That’s twisted,” he said, pulling back the covers, settling in next to her. “Come here.” His strong arms pulled her close until their noses almost touched. His clean scent and the heat from his body warmed her like a blanket fresh from the dryer.
“I’m not convinced they all ran away. The girl I met didn’t seem like she was running; at least not when we parted ways. There’s more to this and I can’t drop it like the cops told me to when I called for an update.”
“You sound like Caroline. You met her briefly at the bar before her band got on stage. Anyways, some assholes chased her sister not that long ago, and she’s been trying to raise awareness about the predators in the city. You should connect with her.”
“Thanks, I might do that. She’s the one having a Valentine’s Day wedding.” It was more of a statement than a question. Sylvie always dreamed of a big fairytale wedding on the most romantic day of the year. She’d planned to marry Renny too, but some plans weren’t meant to be. Some people weren’t meant to have a happily ever after.
He yawned again, covering his mouth. “Yup. Personally, I don’t get the big hoopla about Valentine’s Day. It’s a made-up holiday where men are forced to spend a stupid amount of money on crap. Flowers that die in less than a week or chocolate that’s been sitting on the shelf since the previous holiday. It’s funny to me that you buy into that hype. I’m glad I’ve never had to celebrate.”
How could anyone not like Valentine’s Day?
“Love deserves to be celebrated. It’s romantic and what do you mean you’ve never celebrated? Surely, you bought Marianne presents and took her out for dinner.”
“I’m pragmatic. Oh, she bitched a little when I didn’t get all bent out of shape over the commercialized date. I don’t want to be forced to do things because I’m supposed to. When I wanted to, I bought her gifts. I didn’t have much money when we dated, so I let her pick the movie on that date. Don’t look so appalled. Gestures from the heart shouldn’t come only once a year. Be truthful. Isn’t getting flowers and candy throughout the year more romantic than only one time a year?”
She couldn’t dispute his logic, but she loved the grand, over the top romantic gestures. “I think it’s romantic to get both.” Not that her ex bought her gifts any other time than her birthday or on specific holidays. Maybe a random Monday would have been more special. “Romance doesn’t have to be expensive. It’s all about declaring your love and making each other feel good. Valentine’s Day promotes couples getting out of their comfort zone and trying for more; showing each other more. I’ve always loved it.”
“You’re demanding. No wonder you’re single.” He smiled, and she smacked his arm. “Kidding.”
“You’re not one to talk; Mr. I Don’t Do Romance and therefore can’t keep a girl.”
They both laughed. She knew Martin wasn’t the flowers and candles kind of guy, but he’d give a stranger the shirt off his back if he thought they needed it. He didn’t have to be Mr. Romance to be great.
“Valentine’s Day and flowers might not be
my thing, but bachelor parties are. All kidding aside, I’m planning Nico’s with some other guys. It will be fun.” He touched his forehead to hers.
“Oh boy, I can only imagine the depraved things you’ve got planned.”
“All in good fun,” he said as his fingers moved up her spine.
A little fun sounded perfect. She didn’t need to be in a committed relationship to have a good time. Her eyes dropped to Martin’s lips as he licked them. They were too tempting to resist any longer.
She exhaled slowly and moved her hand against the smoothness of his cheek. “I told you I made a deal with that girl. We said we’d face our fears… I have to do this.” Her thumb grazed the edge of his lip and she went for it.
“Do what—”
She pressed her mouth to his, silencing him. His lips were wet and inviting. The kiss took him by surprise. She could tell from the way his hand stopped moving. He didn’t stop her, instead he opened his mouth. She ran her tongue over his teeth and against his tongue. He responded, twirling his tongue around hers. She didn’t want it to end. Her nipples beaded against his chest as she deepened the kiss. Her entire body responded in a way she hadn’t expected, but just as they were getting started he pulled away.
“Please, don’t be mad,” she said breathlessly.
The kiss had been way more everything than she expected. She tingled in all the right places. As she searched his eyes, she couldn’t read them. She feared what crossing the line would do, but she was glad she did it. More than happy, and she wanted to do it again.
He closed his eyes, shutting her out. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. Hell, some bad months, but… we can’t do this. Turn onto your side and let’s get some sleep.”
There was nothing to say, so she did as he asked. Once on her side, he squeezed her tight, painting his front to her back. Whether he did so knowingly, his erection pressed against her bottom. Desire shot south, begging her to move.
“Um. Martin, what—”
He moved again, and his length nudged between her ass cheeks. “Good night. We can talk more in the morning.”
