“Has he called you? Have you seen him?”
“No! I have not!”
“He’s taken my wife, Margaret. Annie’s gone. Her employee is gone, too. He’s done something to them!”
Silence again. “Oh my God.”
“Do you know where he is?” I demand. “If you’re covering for him, it’s accessory to kidnapping and…and your life will be over! I will personally see to that!”
“No! I promise you. I really don’t! Oh, Brendan! I’m so sorry!”
“Fuck!” I yell, pacing as Bobby talks to the cops in the background.
Margaret cries out, “If I hear anything, I will tell you. I’m serious. I will. Understand?”
I nod, raking my hand through my hair. After a second of searching for what to do, I hang up as Bobby lowers his phone.
“They’re on their way here,” he says, helplessly looking at me.
“I’m going to kill him with my bare hands, Bobby. I’m going to fucking tear him apart.” I cover my face and start to sob. Bobby walks over and lays an arm around me.
“I’ll help you,” he mutters.
When the cops arrive, I tell them everything I know. Bobby stays with me, calling his employees and having them close up his bar for him. The Sergeant who took care of our case last time doesn’t come but I’m assured he’ll be notified and will be in contact with me. When they leave, I watch, not knowing what I’m supposed to do with myself now. It’s after 4:00 a.m. now. Officially Christmas Day.
Bobby offers to give me a ride home. I lock up, aware of the irony that I have the keys for Le Barré but not for her car, when I needed it. Walking to his car in silence, I climb in and set my wife’s purse and phone on my lap, staring out the windshield at the pre-dawn darkness. The fog is everywhere and I picture her being taken somewhere in it, knowing from now on, she will hate fog for the rest of her life. And so will I.
He turns the car on and the radio sounds through the speakers, the earlier recorded message repeating. “The manhunt is still underway. The last person to escape San Quentin was in September of 2000 when a sex offender used blankets to cover the barbed wire fence.”
“Turn it off,” I mumble. Bobby reaches over and pushes the button. “What am I going to do if I lose her?” Bobby doesn’t answer. “I won’t survive, Bobby. I know I won’t.”
“She’s coming back, B-man. I don’t know how, but she has to, right?” Pulling up in front of our building, he stops and watches me get out. “You want me to come up?” I shake my head. “Call me when you find out anything.”
I close the door and walk up the steps with the sound of his car driving away, behind me. Looking to my car, I stare at it, wondering at the timing. Walking to it with quick, angry strides, I open the hood and look inside. I don’t know much about engines, but this hose is supposed to be connected to something. Motherfucker. He tampered with my car first! He was here.
Pulling out my phone, I call my best friend. With the three-hour time difference, he picks up at just after seven o’clock in the morning, more awake that I’d expect.
“Hey! Finally! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he whispers, Nicole asleep beside him.
“Mark. He took her. Annie’s gone. Tommy kidnapped her tonight. I didn’t get your messages. I didn’t hear the news. I fell asleep and wasn’t there to pick her up.”
“Brendan,” he tries to interrupt, hearing the pain in my voice.
I choke, “He followed her to her car last night. We didn’t know it was him. She thought it was a robber. Bobby saved her and no one saw him. But he came back! We all thought he was a robber, Mark! I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there for her! And he fucked with my car to make sure I wasn’t. I just checked. It’s been fucked with. I thought it was just a weak battery. What am I gonna do? She’s gone!”
Mark’s taking in the horror of what I’ve told him, and he interrupts me. “Brendan! Stop! Listen to me. I’m coming. I’ll catch a flight out today. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m at our house. I can’t go in. There’s a tree in there! We got a tree!”
Mark knows what this means. He knows who I am, who I’ve been. How jaded I was about women and love and commitment. He knows me better than anyone, which means he knows I will never survive this if she doesn’t come home. I will never survive.
“What’s going on?” Nicole’s sleepy voice asks in the distance.
“Honey, hang on. It’s Brendan. I’ll explain in a minute,” he murmurs. “Brendan? I’ll be there. I’m coming. We’ll find her. We’ll find her together, okay? Now go inside and try to sleep so you can have your head screwed on straight.”
“I can’t sleep tonight.”
“Then pray. Pray for her safe return. Pray for the baby. Pray. I’ll call you in a half hour when I’ve booked the flight, tell you when I arrive.”
I make a sound close to a snort. “You want me to pray?” Even as I say it, I know that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“I’ll call you right back.” He hangs up and I head inside, taking the elevator up. When I walk in, the tree lights hit me hard and I fall to my knees in front of them, right in front of that little blue and white sweater ornament.
“Dear God, Please watch over my wife tonight. She’s carrying our son and they’re with a bad guy. Please make him see what he’s doing. Please help him wake up…do the right thing. Please help him have the strength to call me and let me come get her. Please, God, I’m begging you…”
Chapter Fifteen
Annie
Head: throbbing. Body: heavy. Where am I?
Waking from a dreamless sleep, I become aware of the ropes around my ankles and my arms tied behind me, before I open my eyes. Doing a quick mental inventory with my head still hung low, I feel the chair I’m sitting on, that my body aches, that the drug I was given still has an effect on my brain as it’s hard to think. I don’t feel any exceptional pain around my stomach and I’m not wet anywhere, so I think my baby’s okay. Blinking, I look at my belly, unable to not look.
“Well, look who’s up,” an unfamiliar voice bellows.
I struggle to raise my head, which is harder to do than I would have imagined, and in a drugged haze, I struggle to focus on the man standing above me. Squinting to understand why he looks familiar, I recognize pieces first. The angry tilt of his jaw. The tone of his voice. The brown eyes similar to…
“You’re Tommy’s father,” I croak, fear setting in. The manhunt has been out for this man ever since Tommy testified against him. He went on the run then, and everything that’s come out about him says he’s a horrible person; abusive and full of rage. My heart starts to race as I glance around the room to ascertain where we are.
“This is my old house,” he hisses, watching me. “You see that? That bureau is the only thing they left in here. I had to bring that chair you’re sitting on. Can you fuckin’ believe that?”
Glancing to the window, bright sunlight disturbs me. What time is it? What day is it?
“That’s terrible,” I carefully offer. “You must have lost a lot.”
“I LOST EVERYTHING!” he yells in my face, the spittle from his tight lips hitting my eyelids.
Suddenly I realize, and ask him, horrified. “You blame me?”
He laughs like a lunatic, all his sense of right and wrong, gone. “Damn right I blame you, BITCH!”
“It was you following me last night!” When he doesn’t say anything, I whisper, “What are you going to do with me?”
The smile that spreads across his face is terrifying. “What aren’t I going do with you? We’re going to have a little fun.” He opens up the bureau and I see a knife, two guns and a hammer.
“Oh God,” I croak in terror, pulling at my ropes.
“Ain’t no use pulling at those, Mrs. Clark. Man, you should have seen my son’s face when he heard you got married while he was locked up for the rest of his damn life. Th
at was the last time I visited the traitor, before he gave us up. He did that because of you. Because of this.” He holds up his pinky and to my horror, my wedding ring is on it. My mouth falls open. “Like it? It’s not really my size, but I can have that fixed,” he giggles, staring at it and turning it around.
The rebel in me rises up. “It’s just girly enough for you,” I hiss.
He cocks his head my way and loses the smile, walking two steps to punch me across the jaw. My head flies to the right and I moan in pain.
Turning my head to meet his eyes again, I scream in his face, “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” Jacob kicks inside of me and I gasp, wanting desperately to touch my stomach.
He narrows his wrinkly eyes, bends his knees and stares two inches from my face. “Got some fire in there, huh? Good. This is gonna be fun.” He chuckles. “You just wait for my nephew to get here. I’ve decided you’re going to be the one to take his virginity.” He brings up the pinky that’s got my ring on it and goes to touch my skin.
I slam my head hard into his, knocking him off balance and onto the floor. “Fucking Bitch!” He grabs his forehead and glares at me, rising to punch me again in the face. His knuckles crack into my lip, splitting it open.
“Uncle Walter!” a voice calls from downstairs. I spit out the saliva and blood as he eyes me like he wants to hit me again. He takes a step backwards.
“Brucie? Up here!”
I’m glaring at him like I’m strong and I can take anything he’s got, but tears betray me falling down my cheeks. The bastard smirks and he looks so much like an older version of Tommy that I feel sick inside. Bruce appears in the doorframe, another recognizable face from the news, but one I’ve never met in person. Definitely a family resemblance, but he’s slighter and effeminate, obviously homosexual. He eyes me, takes in my bruised face and bondage. “Hey,” he says, as if I’m his buddy.
“Is that how you greet your first time, Brucie?” his uncle chides him, flouncing his arms like fairy-wings.
“So...you really did it. You took her,” Bruce says, as he locks eyes with me again.
I feel another kick from my son, and close my eyes, licking the blood off my lips, tasting the salt of tears mingled in. When I open my eyes again, Tommy is in the doorway. Ice pours down my spine as he looks at me.
The air has suddenly become thicker as Tommy and his father lock eyes. “Dad.”
Confusion and happiness cross over Walter’s face, and I see my life passing before my eyes. But then his expression changes to rage. “You traitorous piece of shit!”
He lunges for his son. Bruce yelps and stands in front of me with his arms and legs spread wide. Blocking me? Tommy anticipates his dad coming, and weaves quickly to the side. His dad barrels into the wall and curses.
“Good to see you, too, Dad,” Tommy says, with a hardened smirk.
“How are you out of prison?” his dad snaps.
“Bruce told me what you were going to do here. I can’t let that happen.”
Stunned, I stare up at Tommy through the gap under Bruce’s arms. His father growls, “She took your life, Tommy! She took all of our lives!”
“Looks like you’re still breathing, Dad. How about you, Bruce?”
Bruce nods. “Still breathing.”
Tommy says, “Yeah, me too.” Eying his father who’s still by the wall like he’s ready to pounce, Tommy says in the softest voice I’ve ever heard him use, “I know Mom left you, Dad. But that doesn’t mean you have to do this.”
There’s no sense of logic or reality behind Walter’s eyes as he listens. It’s like he can’t hear. He lets out a roar and attacks Tommy, but Tommy meets him in the middle and they punch each other again and again. Bruce turns around and runs behind me, untying my hands.
“NO!” Walter yells, lunging for me. Tommy grabs his torso and wrestles him to the ground. Bruce kneels down to untie my ankles, meeting my eyes with urgency just as Walter lays a blow on Tommy’s face that knocks him back. A roar bursts from him and he lunges for me. Bruce kicks him in the face and yells to me, “RUN!”
I make a break for it, holding onto my stomach as I fight off the heaviness the drug has left in me, running through the hallway of the empty house, down the stairs still hung with family photos. Outside, I turn to look behind me. I stare up at the house and turn around to escape. “HELP!”
Chapter Sixteen
Tommy
My old man has always been an asshole, but the look in his eyes scares even me.
Dad jumps on top of me, straddling me as his leathery fists pound into my skull. I rotate my hips and buck upward, knocking him off balance, freeing my arms to punch him back, hard. Bruce grabs my dad around his body, yanking him up by using his own body weight for leverage and power. It’s enough to get me off my back. Kneeling in front of my father, I give him everything I’ve got. As I punch him into unconsciousness, I yell at him, “This is for ruining my life! This is for not being there in court! This is for treating Mom like shit!”
“Tommy! Tommy!” Bruce yells, keeping his grip on my old man. “You have to go get her! Someone’s going to find her!”
Panting to catch my breath, I look toward the door and nod. Glancing back to my unconscious father, I shake my head. “I can’t believe what he was about to do.”
“Remember what Rita told you? I’ve got this. You go!”
Gasping for breath, I jump up and run for the door. Looking behind me, I see Bruce pulling the ropes over my dad’s wrists. “Bruce?” He looks over to me. “Thank you.” He nods.
As I run through the hall, I hear him yell, “And by the way, Walter! I am gay, but I fucking hate being called Brucie!” A dull, loud thud follows. As I race down the stairs of the place I used to call home, I allow myself one little smile for Bruce’s redemption.
Outside, Annie’s running up the center of the street under a sun-filled Marin County sky, yelling, “HELP!”
“Shut up!” I whisper-yell at her. She turns around, then looks for where to run, not sure if she can trust me or not. She’s hobbling, and I catch up with her easily, covering her mouth and dragging her to the side of a darkened home. I grew up here. Most of our neighbors go back east for the holiday to celebrate where there’s snow and tradition. There’s probably only two houses on this street with people in them, and that’s two too many.
She gives a muffled cry against the palm of my hand. Then bites me. I yelp, shaking my hand and giving her a murderous look. “Quit it! I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me hurt you. Okay? Would I have saved you just now?”
Panting, her face bruised and wet, she shakes her head. “Take me home!”
“Okay! I’ll take you home. Come on.” She doesn’t move, too surprised to function. I motion for her to follow me and she hesitates, but then decides she has no other choice. “I’m taking you home! I promise. Okay? Look into my eyes.” I point at them. “I promise.” She relaxes. Checking out her face, I say, “Looks like he punched you pretty good.”
She nods, holding her stomach and peering at me. “You too,” she says, hoarsely.
“Yeah, not the first time,” I mumble. “My car’s just up here.” I parked it out of sight of the old house, a habit from robbing homes ever since I was a kid. But no one would have recognized this old beater, so I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. She looks at the Colt as we walk up to it, then glances to me. “Don’t say it,” I smile, attempting to make her feel better. “I’ve gone down in the world.”
She blinks a couple times, still trying to figure me out. I unlock her door and she gets in carefully. I pull off my jacket and hand it to her. She takes it, staring up at me like I’m some sort of alien. I exhale, walking around to get in the car.
“Where are we?” she asks.
“Marin,” is all I say. She’ll see the signs as we drive back to the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m too busy thinking what to do, how I’m going to get the hell out of this state, and probably this country.
After fifteen minutes of
driving in silence, her voice sounds more like normal when she asks, “How’d you get out? Did you escape?”
I nod. “And I’m not going back.” I turn my head to meet her eyes. “Ever.”
We drive in silence. What would we have to talk about? Neither of us likes the other and the truth is, she’s my ticket to freedom. But how?
After a few more miles, past Sausalito, I turn off on the last road before the bridge’s entrance. Annie looks around quickly.
“Where are we going? The bridge is that way!”
I nod again, more slowly this time. “I’m not taking you home, Annie. They’ll only throw me back in if I do that.”
Her jaw falls and she searches the one lane road. “Where are you taking me? What are you doing?” She reaches over to punch me, but I block her fist and swerve on the road.
“HEY!” I screech to a halt, swiveling in my seat. “None of that Martial Arts bullshit. You hear me? You’ve got someone there who you don’t want to get hurt, am I right?” My eyes flick down to her stomach barely hidden under my coat. She sniffles, but her eyes are fierce and ready to fight. “Now you listen to me and you listen good. There is no way I’m going back there and I will do whatever it takes. Do you understand?” Her breathing is short, so I tell her to breathe as I reach below my seat for the cuffs Bruce left me.
She sees me bring them up into the dim light of the ancient dash-console, and yells, “NO!” punching at me with both fists. A couple land, but I wrestle the cuffs onto her, leaving her gasping and screaming. I shove my hand over her face and hiss, “Don’t make me hit you.” She eyes me from the corners of wary eyelids. “If I hit you, it’s because you made me. Got it?” She nods. I release her mouth and with my attention heightened, I drive on toward the cave.
“You promised you were taking me home.”
Searching For You: A New Adult Contemporary Romance (Anything For You Book 3) Page 8
