by K. R. Rowe
"I’m sure I was," Grace said with a faint laugh.
Joel grinned.
She was still smiling when Lucien and Alex stomped in. Both stopped suddenly, surprised by her expression, and looked at Joel curiously when he stood up, and nonchalantly sauntered over to stand by Matt.
They would leave later, under the cover of darkness. Alex watched them from across the room. They huddled close on the old shabby sofa. His arm was around her, tender and caring, while they talked together in hushed voices. Their conversation appeared intense, and she looked apprehensive.
The scene became almost too much to stomach and he abruptly turned his back to stare out the window. It looked like a war zone outside, lawless, and dangerous. Burned cars littered the narrow street, but for the moment, all was quiet. He could still hear their muffled voices behind him, and the muscles in his cheeks tensed, as he ground his teeth in frustration.
"Grace, we need to talk about something important," Lucien said, as he sat close by her side. "I haven't told you everything," he said. "I’ve been selfish."
"What?"
"You know why you’re here," he said. "You were abducted, against your will. Everything I’ve told you is true."
"What else is there?" she asked. Uncertainty crept in and made her uneasy.
"Don't be afraid." He took her hand and held it to his lips. "I didn't tell you," he let out a long shaking sigh, "that you were abducted the night before your wedding."
Her eyes grew wide with shock, and she looked up to see the guilt, etched deep, in his amber eyes.
"I wish I could tell you it was me that you were marrying," he said, "but that would be a lie."
"What? Who? Tell me …." She spoke so fast that she stumbled over her own words.
"Shhh …." Lucien put his finger to his lips. "See the man there, with his back to us?" She looked up and stared at his broad shoulders. "He is the one. You were marrying him."
He stood unmoving, while she looked his way. She fought to pull memories from deep in her mind. He must have felt her watching him, and he turned unexpectedly. His eyes locked with hers. She averted her gaze, but he had caught her staring. Still, she did not recognize him. He was tall and angry, and looked like he had the itch to kill someone. He was scary. Unsettled, she looked down, and there, on her finger was an engagement ring.
"Come with me," Matt said, as he walked past Alex toward the door. Outside they stopped in the hallway and Matt spoke in a low voice. "You are scaring the crap out of her! Can't you see that?" Alex looked curious, like he had no idea, and Matt continued. "You have this look, on your face, like you’re about ready to kill someone," he said. "Hell man, you’re scarin’ me! I can see why she's cowering away from you. Ease up and smile or at least stop with that crazed death stare."
"I can't help it, Matt, that guy in there," he paused and clenched his hands into a tight fist, "if he don’t keep his hands off her—I swear—the someone I kill will be him."
"You’re the one in control here, Alex," Matt said. "Take—control."
They walked back into the room and Alex looked Lucien’s way, "I would like to have a minute alone with Grace." He paused for a moment and forced a fake smile. "Please."
The room cleared, and he sat on the sofa next to Grace, but she scooted away from him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to scare you." He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, "I only wanted to find you, and bring you home. It's just that … I've been a little upset—not myself, you see, they took you … away from me," he paused for a moment. " … the night before our wedding." His voice broke and he took a deep breath to compose himself. He wanted to put his arms around her and beg her to remember him. "Do you remember me, at all?"
His look pleaded for her to say yes, but she shook her head no. The weeks of pent up emotion, dropped, like a molten rock, to his gut. It boiled in his stomach and he thought he was going to be sick. He closed his eyes for an instant to calm his nerves, and then pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He drew out a dried white clover flower and gently placed it in her hand.
"Do you remember?" he whispered and waited. "Please remember."
His hope disintegrated when she slowly shook her head no.
The time was drawing near. They waited patiently for the darkest hour but it never arrived. The heavy snowfall quickly covered everything in sight. It fell gently and lay thick in every crevice. The solid white blanket attempted to hide the ugly scars of the war-ravaged city, and create an illusion of tranquility. The snowy ice crystals reflected the light, and illuminated the night sky, as if it were midday. This night, the darkest hour did not exist. The night was silent yet dangerous, breathtaking yet deadly and they would have to move quickly when the time came.
He turned from the window where he had kept vigil most of the night, and found only Lucien awake.
"It's time," he muttered quietly, not wanting to startle those asleep.
Lucien made his way to Grace, as she slept on the sofa, and knelt down to rouse her. "Grace, wake up," he said quietly, and rubbed her arm gently.
Irritated, Alex turned his back, crossed his arms, and resumed his watch at the snow-frosted window.
"It's time for you to go," Lucien said as she yawned and stretched.
"Time for me to go?" she asked. "Aren't you going?"
"No, ma petite—"
"I'm not going without you!" she said. "I won't go! I don't even know who they are!"
Concerned by the distress in her voice, Alex turned from the window to find them looking his way. The question was clear in both their eyes. He wanted this man gone but like a cockroach, it appeared near impossible to get rid of him. It was obvious she would not come willingly alone. He had no other alternative.
"You can come," he snapped, and flung a deadly look toward Lucien, before he turned back toward the window.
Outside of the apartment building, Sean sat alone for hours, shivering and cold. He was angry, and wanted to be home with his family, not assisting with one of André’s idiotic vendettas. André had become increasingly unstable and unpredictable lately, and in his current state, it would be unwise to cross him. Anything seemed to set him off and his priorities seemed opposite of any rational person, even that of a sensible criminal. He watched while the snow piled high and thick on his truck, making it easier to blend in with his surroundings.
Lucien was careless last night, and was spotted on his way back to his apartment. Sean was instructed to stay put. If he spotted movement, then he was to follow; otherwise, André was already on his way. He hoped something would happen soon. He just wanted to go home.
"It's going to be a long crappy trip." Matt mumbled. He gnawed on his nails while the tension in the back seat grew with each passing mile.
"We need to get south past Pennsylvania as soon as possible," Joel said while looking at the truck’s radar. "A snow storm is on its way."
Joel had taken the front passenger seat, while the trio of discomfort occupied the back. The fact that Alex had not slept for weeks merely increased his agitation. He was like a bad tempered snowball, getting meaner as he rolled. Like a menacing circle, the more belligerent Alex became, the more Grace clung to Lucien. The more she clung to Lucien, the more foul Alex's mood had become. They all needed a rest and a decent hotel—or any hotel—would do a world of good.
The snow stopped briefly while they made their way across the St. Lawrence River and south down Route 15 toward the US-Canadian border. A sense of relief settled in when they made their way into the States. The road was empty, and the hypnotic passing of the streetlights lulled them into a relaxed sense of security. The quiet of the night was calming but no one slept except Joel. His head lolled back against the door with his mouth open wide, drooling while he snored.
Grace fidgeted between the two men in the back seat. She inched close to Lucien and was afraid to touch Alex. Earlier in the evening, while preparing to leave, he spotted the bracelet Lucien had given her.
Alex lifted
her wrist. "What’s this?" He held the bracelet between his thumb and forefinger and inspected it closely.
He looked up and glared at Lucien. He slammed his door so hard, the truck rocked to one side, and she thought the door would fall from its hinges. She flinched. He was like a human stone thrown into a pool of anger. It rippled in waves and muddied the air around him. He sat rigid, with his fists balled tight on the tops of his knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his Adam’s apple bob, as he swallowed hard, and the muscles in his cheek tighten as he ground his teeth. He closed his eyes, and drew in a deep, calming breath. He turned away from them, to stare out of the window. Afraid, she held tight to Lucien’s hand.
A deafening crash rocked the truck from behind, as the back window exploded. The barrage of gunfire, erupted from a truck—headlights off—following close on their rear.
"Get her down!" Alex yelled, and Lucien pushed Grace to the floor.
"Hang on!" Matt warned as he swung out of the direct path of the truck that followed behind. Instantly awake, Joel took aim and fired, but his bullet ricocheted, with a spark, off the truck's window trim, and into the darkness. Alex fired in succession, but the truck gained speed, hit their rear, and slammed them into the dense concrete median. Thrown off target, his shot missed the driver, but hit the front wheel. The tire exploded and disintegrated, sending a hail of rubber bouncing across the highway.
Scorching shards of metal showered the road, while the truck continued, unfazed on its rim. It rammed them from the rear, and another blast from behind ripped through the broken back window, and blew out the front. Matt struggled to see as he accelerated at full speed. He left the truck behind, but it caught up fast, to hover a dust speck away from their bumper.
"Hold on!" Matt yelled. He swerved again and slammed on the brakes. Now side by side, Alex had a clear shot, took aim, and fired. The driver side window exploded and the truck violently pitched right, catching the pavement sideways, and flipping end over end before landing right side up, on its wheels.
"We should go back to make sure he’s dead." Lucien scowled when he looked up and out of the broken back window.
"I’m not stopping," Matt said, trying to see out of the windshield. "Now, it's going to be a crappy and cold trip."
"How did they get across the border?" Joel asked.
Lucien turned away from the window and scowled. "Money talks."
André shoved the groaning driver off of him, stumbled out of the truck, and onto the deserted, snow-covered highway. Yelling incoherently, he savagely kicked the side of the mangled truck repeatedly, as another groan emanated from inside.
"Shut up!" he shouted, and kicked the truck a final time and stood seething in the middle of the road.
Lucien is going to pay for this with his life! As for his little girlfriend, he might have some fun this time before he does away with her. His father is going to be very disappointed when he discovers his precious Tiger has gone rogue.
It was late afternoon. They stood outside of a cheap hotel pulling a dent from the back of the truck.
"Alex," Lucien said as he approached. "We need to talk."
"Go ahead." Matt jerked the quarter panel outward away from the tire. "I think we can handle this."
"Let's go into the lobby."
Following him inside, Alex wondered what Lucien could possibly want. When they sat, Lucien’s tone turned sober.
"She's finally resting," he said. "I had to give her something to help her sleep." He blew out a long exhausted sigh, and ran both hands through his hair.
"Is something wrong?"
Lucien sighed and slowly began. "André is a disturbed man," he said. "There was evidence … that she was beaten—"
"Son of a—"
"And starved … and I don’t know what—if anything else," Lucien said.
Alex knew what he meant. He stood and crammed his hands in his pockets and began to walk back and forth with a slow halting gait.
"It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t remember," Lucien said.
"She might not want to."
Lucien continued. "I've had to give her something to help her sleep every night," he said. "She has nightmares, and she suffers from tremors." Lucien grabbed his arm and stopped him, "I fear for her."
Alex collapsed into the chair feeling like an ass. His petty jealousy was so consuming that he had forgotten about her. "She's very fragile," Alex said, ashamed.
"For now," Lucien said. "You and I have to come to terms, or some kind of a truce, for her sake."
Alex nodded his head in agreement.
"She's afraid of me." Alex was still in disbelief.
"But that’s because of me."
"You’re not kidding," Alex said.
"I have a solution," Lucien said. "I'll sit up front the remainder of the trip." He dug in his back pocket. "Here, if it makes you feel any better." He tossed Alex her key card. "I have my own room." Lucien stood to leave. "And if you decide to check in on her, knock first, and do not scare her."
Lucien left him alone and troubled, with his head gripped tight in his hands. Spikes of dark hair leached through his fingers, like weeds in a crumbling sidewalk. His bloodshot eyes burned a hole through the floor as he studied the grime at his feet. Swirling patterns of gray and black rose up, to mix, from its surface. They circled to life and mutated into wraiths and shadows in front of his eyes. He covered his ears, and screamed when their screeching laughter mocked him without mercy. With a sudden jolt, he snapped awake and kicked the table in front of him. He needed sleep, and he felt like a jerk, and did not need a floor to remind him.
It was a miserable ride. The wind blew unhampered, through what was left of the front windshield. It licked over them in frozen waves, and escaped with their warmth out the back. Grace had no idea what Lucien had given her the day before, but it left her groggy and weak. Joel was on her left, stretched out, with his fingers laced behind his head. He was grinning, as usual, from some type of amusing thought he had whipping around in his head.
Alex was slouched down low in his seat, with his eyes closed, sleeping. He looked comfortable and at peace, and the image took her back to the evening before. During the night, she opened her eyes and could have sworn she saw him in the dark. He was asleep and at ease in a chair by her bed, but she dismissed it all as a dream. Why would he have been there?
Cold and fatigued, she struggled to ward off sleep, but soon lost the battle. A few miles passed when she awoke with a start. Alex had his seat reclined and was still sound asleep. He was relaxed, with his arms wrapped loosely around her, and she had her cheek planted firmly against his chest.
"Oh no!" She sat up straight and gasped. She had fallen asleep and slobbered on him like a pig! "I'm so sorry," she said, embarrassed and guilty, and wiped his wet shirt with her sleeve. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," she apologized and scooted closer to Joel.
"I didn't mind." He closed his eyes and smiled.
Joel cracked a wide grin at her closeness. "Well, hellooo," he greeted, prompting her to scoot away from him also.
For the rest of the trip, she sat stiff and cold, between the two men in the back. Still mortified, she tried not to look Alex’s way. Even though she was embarrassed, she thought, at the very least, she had been warm.
Atticus and Anne stood on the porch and waited for their arrival. Matt had called the day before and explained the delicate situation in detail.
"Oh my God, Atticus, look!" Anne said when the truck lumbered into the circular drive.
Alex had named her Green Bessie. A five-inch lift set her high off the ground. In near silence, her motor ran with an electric buzz, but her massive knobbies hummed, with a roaring purr when they spun over the pavement. Salt, brine and dirt from the snow-covered road, had frozen underneath to form jagged globs of ice-mud. They hung, like brown gremlins, and sporadically dropped, to cause havoc for those close behind. Like a wounded, camouflaged monster, she limped into the drive, with two fenders cr
ushed, two windows shattered, and a mirror that hung by one wire.
Before the truck stopped, the back passenger door swung open and Alex jumped out. Matt and Lucien climbed down from the front, while Joel sauntered around the truck from the other side, with Grace following close behind.
"Grace!" Anne ran toward her daughter and gave her a tight hug. "Thank God you’re safe!"
After greeting his daughter, Atticus held out his hand, and gave each man a firm handshake. "I want to thank you young men for bringing my baby home," he said. "I owe you the world. Anything you guys need—anything—just let me know," he said with tear-filled eyes.
"It was our pleasure," Matt said. He shook Atticus’ hand and turned to Alex, "I'm taking Joel home, and then Lucien to the hotel for a room. I'll swing back in a little while and you can take me home then," he said, as he and Joel climbed back into the truck.
"Mr. and Mrs. Astor," Lucien said. "May I speak to Grace for just a moment, before I leave?"
"By all means, go ahead," Atticus said.
Not forgetting the temporary truce, he was careful to keep his hands to himself, and led Grace a short distance away.
"Here," he said quietly and handed her a card. He leaned close to her, and their eyes met. He lifted his hand close to her face, but dropped it away, and willed himself not to touch her. "My number is here," he said. "If you are afraid, or upset, or just need to talk, call me. I’ll be nearby. If you have another bad dream—I don't care what time it is—call me," he said, in a voice deep with concern.
She nodded.
"Ok?" he whispered.
"Ok."
He turned from her to get into the truck.
"Lucien, wait!" Her desperate plea spun him around. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest. "I'm so nervous. I don't remember this place."
The hell with the truce, he thought, and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't be scared," he said. "Your parents love you, and they're good people." He rubbed her back with a gentle massage. "Trust me, and trust them, ok?"
"Ok, I trust you." Her voice sounded small, and it wavered, as she slowly let him go.
