He jumped into the passenger’s side and allowed Jeanie to drive to the boat launch.
“Now whose truck and trailer do you suppose that is?” he said as they pulled up to the lake.
“Don’t know, but I can see their boat on the other side,” Jeanie replied, pointing to the airboat on the opposite shore. “You don’t think someone is stealing stuff from that house, do you?”
“Hmm, sit tight. I’m going to go take a look at their vehicle.”
He returned after a few minutes from peeking in the SUV’s windows. “It looks like a rental; there is some paperwork from Enterprise between the seats. But I swear it’s been here at least overnight, maybe longer.”
“Why?”
“The hood is perfectly cold and the tire tracks and shoe prints have leaves over them and they look like the dew has fallen and dried on them.”
“Call Micah,” Jeanie stated, picking up Trent’s cell from the dash.
“Nah, Jeanie. God, with everything he’s been through, I don’t want to add this stupid shit to his worries. Listen, I’ll take the boat and go to the other side and—”
“No, Trent! You don’t know who’s over there, or how many are over there. Besides, I’m sure they’d hear the boat motor.”
“I won’t use the outboard; the trolling motor is silent. I just want to sneak up through the woods and see what’s going on. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“Yeah, well what if it’s a bunch of punks empting the house?”
“Then I motor back here and we’ll call the sheriff’s office and let them handle it.”
Trent backed the trailer and boat down into the lake as Jeanie watched nervously. When he pulled the truck out, he told Jeanie to wait in the truck and keep an eye out. “If you see anyone heading this way, get the hell out of here and I’ll—”
“I’m not going to leave you!” she stated on the verge of tears.
“Jeanie, I know these woods like the back of my hand. If you see them heading this way, you get out of here and call the sheriff. Hell, I’ll just hide in the woods; they’ll never find me.”
“Take your shotgun,” she said, pulling it up from behind the seat.
“Nah, baby, I don’t want to scare the shit out of them. Hell, like you said, it’s probably just a bunch of punk kids with their daddy’s boat.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss and started to walk away.
“Your phone,” she said trying to give it to him.
“Jeanie, you know good and well once I hit halfway of that lake there isn’t any signal. I’ll be okay—stop worrying.”
~:~
Jonathan opened the bedroom door and walked in carrying my lunch. He smiled slightly. Since he had revealed that his actual job had been to protect me, he was considerably kinder when we were alone. I still didn’t trust him, and I certainly didn’t plan on being his travel companion to New York. He refused to say anything else about the Capo dei Capi, but he did admit that he had been medicating me at night with Ambien so I would sleep. He said he checked to make sure it was safe for pregnant women before giving it to me. Considerate of my captor? I suppose in a way, but I knew it wasn’t Ambien he used that first time when I passed out in the swing. He’d also been quietly asking me about my relationship with Micah when he would sit and wait for me to finish my meals and stretching breaks. He seemed genuinely puzzled as to how I could love someone like Micah. Today was no different as he watched me eat. I told him I found his newfound curiosity about Micah strange.
“I simply do not understand how someone with such a brutal history can be, as you say, gentle and different on the inside.”
“Jonathan, you of all people should understand it,” I stated, finishing a small bite of sandwich. “I’ve seen multi-sides to you. No one is ever one person all the time. We all have a hard and a soft side, even if we’ve never exposed it to others; it’s there. I know the kind of person Micah was trained to be, but I also knew early on, someone very good was hiding inside of him. He’s the most beautiful thing in my life.”
I could tell he was still deep in thought, an expression of incomprehension etched between his furrowed eyebrows as he unlocked my restraints and connected me to my lead.
“Is this really still necessary?” I asked.
“Per ora, mia bellezza.”
I understood the last words, ‘my beauty,’ but I wasn’t positive about the first words, so I guessed, “For now?”
He smiled one of the kindest smiles I had seen on his face since I’d met him.
“I would love to teach you more Italian. Yes, you are right, ‘For now…my beauty,’” he repeated in English. “Leese, what if you change your mind? What if something between you and your husband changes your feelings about him, and your relationship ends? Would you ever consider a man like myself? Italy is a breathtaking country. I would love to take you there.”
Huge red caution flag instantly appeared in my thoughts; New York might become the least of my worries. “Jonathan, I—”
“Please, call me by my real name.”
I shook my head, trying to keep the tears down where they belonged, “I can’t; I don’t want you to ever be that other person around me. Micah and I have been through hell and back. If something happened that was horrible enough to ruin my relationship with him, I don’t know if I could survive it. I think too many people use the word love when they don’t mean it. They enjoy a relationship with someone, but the first bump or two in their path and they realize it wasn’t real love—and they move on. Micah is my forever love. Could our relationship end? We’re human and full of flaws, so sure it could. Would it hurt me the rest of my life? Absolutely. He is the only one for me. At the risk of sounding cliché, he’s my soul mate.”
He gave a small sigh and seated himself on the chair by the bed.
I could tell my heart-felt speech either didn’t completely sink in or it was more than he was prepared to consider. I turned and started for the bathroom when something caught the corner of my eye. My heart slammed so hard against my ribcage that I inhaled involuntarily.
“Are you all right?” came his concerned question.
I know my face was drained of color when I turned. I dropped my hand to my stomach and fumbled for something to say, “Ye—yeah, I—I just—the baby kicked the crap out of me—that’s all,” I lied. It wasn’t the baby at all. From the upstairs bedroom window I could see a small splash of color on the other side of the lake; a familiar faded yellow truck was parked by the launch. I was certain that the men downstairs couldn’t see it because of the woods, but there was another window at the top of the staircase. If one of them came up, or if Jonathan looked out the bedroom window, it might catch their sight, too. God, it felt like my pulse was about to pound out of my temple—in a literal sense, like instant migraine! They’d kill him. Oh my God; if he came up to the house, these men wouldn’t hesitate to blow Trent away! I had no clue what to do.
“Are you sure you are all right?” Jonathan asked again and started to rise.
“No, I’m fine—really, I am,” I said motioning with my hand for him to stay seated. I gave a nervous laugh, hoping he’d believe me. “It’s just that he kicked me so hard I almost peed myself.”
He gave a small chuckle and then settled back into the chair.
I headed into the bathroom and wedged the door with my shoe. Jonathan was used to me doing that, so there was no reason for him to be suspicious. I looked out the bathroom window. Trent was sneaking up one of the footpaths to the house. Oh my God!
~.~
Jeanie watched Trent cross the lake, her nervousness mounting as her vision of him became smaller and smaller. What if these weren’t ‘punk kids?’ What if these were ‘friends’ of Micah’s? Jeanie was recalling the kind of life Micah had been rumored to have lived before Leese. What if these people were mafia? They wouldn’t take too well to Trent spying on them. Matter-of-fact, she was pretty sure they’d shoot him on sight. “I can’t take it!” she finally stated out-loud.
/> Jeanie was out of the truck and running full tilt along the east side of the lakeshore. She had to get to Trent and convince him to leave. She couldn’t take the chance that these people might be the kind who would hurt him. The lake was big and getting around it wouldn’t be easy. The beach area shrank to nothing as she stumbled and tripped over Cypress knees and vegetation. It slowed her down, but didn’t stop her as she moved into the edge of the woods; Jeanie kept running.
~:~
When Trent finally looked up to the window where I stood motioning to get his attention, he froze. I swear, from his expression, he truly thought he was seeing a ghost. I was giving him the signal to stop and go back, but somewhere in his moment of shock, he must have realized I was a hostage not an apparition. He continued toward the house.
“What are you doing in there?” Jonathan stated.
I hadn’t heard him get up—and he was standing on the other side of the bathroom door!
“Answer me, Annalisa. You are not using the bathroom.”
I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror; my face was whiter than the paint on the walls. Damn!
I slipped my foot back into my shoe and opened the door. “I—I don’t feel so good,” I stated, hoping beyond hope that he would be so concerned about me that he wouldn’t look out the window. “Can you help me back to bed?” I didn’t have to fake my trembling.
He swallowed harder than anyone I’d ever seen, and for the first time I saw an expression of absolute terror on his face as he uttered the question that I knew he feared more than a bullet.
“Are you in labor?”
“N—no, I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never had a baby before.” At that point, I think he was honestly about to freak.
He was supporting me, walking me slowly back to the bed when he turned his head briefly—and he stopped.
Shit! He saw the truck. When his face turned back toward me, all the fear was absent.
“Tell me who it is,” he stated with deadly seriousness.
“Please, Jonathan, don’t hurt him.”
“I know it is not your husband. He would not have been foolish enough to leave a vehicle where it could be seen. I will only ask once more. Who is it?”
“His name is Trent. I swear to God above, he’s just a friend of ours. He’s not mafia; he’s just a backwoods, country boy who likes to fish on the lake. I’m begging you with my whole heart; please don’t let them kill him.”
“I have a feeling your ignorant, bumbling friend may have just given us our perfect opportunity. Get in the bathroom and stay there,” he commanded.
I reached out and clasped Jonathan’s hand in both of mine.
He paused as our eyes locked on to each other’s.
“Please, Jonathan, show me another side to you—don’t hurt him.”
“I make no promises. Stay in the bathroom; get down in the bathtub if you can.”
“Undo me,” I begged.
“No. Go now!”
Suddenly he was shouting Italian and ripping open the bedroom door. There was nothing else left other than to do what he told me. I knew why he wanted me in the tub: bullets were getting ready to fly. I ran for the bathroom with tears flowing down my cheeks. When I stepped inside, I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. There was Trent crouched on the roof just outside the bathroom window, motioning me to unlock it.
I could hear the men running upstairs.
I was so scared that my fingers felt as if there wasn’t any strength to even turn the window latch. It had been a long time since that latch had been opened, and for a moment I was afraid that Jonathan had super glued it shut. I felt it pop under my hand at the same time I heard Jonathan telling the men to look out the upstairs hall window. Then he said something that froze me in place.
“Look across the lake! Gavarreen is here; give me a gun!”
Why the hell was he telling them that it was Micah?
“Fuck you! You’re not getting a gun!” I heard one of the men say. From the sound of the voice, it was the one who I was certain was in charge. “Dice, you and Stan stay with Giovanni. Torry, we’ll take the airboat to the other side and see who the hell is here. It’s not Gavarreen.”
The latch turned and the window started to rise on its own. Trent had already removed the screen and he was lifting the window higher. Damn! It sounded so loud as it went up! I was praying that with all the shouting outside the bedroom no one heard it.
Trent reached in to take my hand when he realized I was tethered to a steel lead.
He climbed inside.
I was panicking. What would Jonathan do to him?
“Shhh,” he whispered, popping open a leather case on his belt. I knew what it was; Trent always carried it on him. It was one of those multi-tools. There was one big advantage in working for the power company—Trent always carried something to cut a wire.
I heard more angry words and shouts, and the sound of some men moving down the stairs. The front door slammed as Jonathan continued to instill fear in the two men in the upstairs hallway.
“I am telling you, it is him!! Gavarreen will kill all of us! You know I am the only one who can take him out. Dice, are you ready to face down Gavarreen? Give me a gun or prepare to die.”
Trent was just about to squeeze and clip the wire when I told him not to let it fall loose. If Jonathan opened the door and the wire was on the floor, we’d be caught. But how could we keep it taut?
Trent clipped the cable, but instead of letting it fall, he pulled it into the deep, splintered gouge that I created my first day when I kicked the door. It held it perfectly. With the exception of the handcuff that was around my wrist, I was free.
He made me wait as we watched two men running from the house. As soon as they made the first turn in the path, Trent was out the window and helping me onto the steep roof.
I could still hear Jonathan verbally wearing down the two men in the hall. Filling them with fright about what Micah would do to them. I knew Dice was scared-to-death of Micah to begin with, but was he scared enough to put a weapon in Jonathan’s hands?
Trent carefully maneuvered me to where the roof connected to the lower story; the pitch would get steeper before it would improve.
“Try not to slide,” he barely whispered as he carefully lowered himself to the first floor.
I didn’t think I could handle this balancing act. All I could pray was that my tennis shoes would grip as well as Trent’s boat shoes. It seemed to take so long to get off that damn roof, like our real lives had become part of some wacked-out suspense movie—and some asshole just pressed the slow motion button. Trent walked to the television antenna pole and dropped down it like a freaking monkey. He was on the ground, but I knew I couldn’t do what he’d just done.
“Don’t be scared, Leese,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”
I had just gripped the pole and swung my weight off the roof when I heard the gun shots. Thank God Trent still managed to catch me because there was no way I could slow my descent. I knew what had just happened. Dice gave Jonathan a gun—Dice and Stan were dead.
Trent led me into the woods. I heard the front door slam and I caught a glimpse through the trees of Jonathan running toward the boat launch. I knew he was after the other two men, and still convinced that I was safely tucked in the upstairs bathroom.
I heard voices in the distance, the sound of people running. My only guess was the other men heard the shots and were coming back. Another shot went off, and then a rapid succession of shots.
The underbrush was thick and noisy as we crashed through it. I felt the brier vines cutting my legs, trying to trip me, but I was clinging so tightly to Trent’s arm there was no way I was going down. Yet, as slow as our run for freedom felt, it didn’t take too long before I could see the lake coming into view.
I heard three additional shots as we pushed off through the cypress and into the open. The airboat was about five or six hundred feet to o
ur right, but no one was on board. With any luck, Jonathan would go back to the house for me, and that would give us enough time to escape.
“Get down low, Leese,” Trent ordered, trying to make me lay in the bottom of his Jon boat. He pulled the crank rope. The motor started, then sputtered and died.
Trent was cussing; I was praying.
He pulled the rope again, and the little twenty-horsepower Mercury noisily came to life. He crouched low and then opened the throttle all the way and we began shooting across the lake. For a small motor, it seemed as if we were moving fast. All I could think was thank God this was almost over. As soon as we put some distance between ourselves and this nightmare, I’d call Micah and tell him I was safe.
We were about three-quarters across the lake when the five-hundred-horsepower airboat announced its presence, with Jonathan at the helm. I knew Sharon’s four men were all dead.
The airboat was fast, but we were almost to the shore. We would make it. I was sure we could make it—if Jonathan didn’t open fire.
Jonathan was closing the gap as Trent ran his little boat full speed right onto the shore. Just as we tumbled out, we watched the airboat veer to the east.
“What the…” Trent began, but then he looked toward his truck. “No—oh, shit! No. Where the hell is Jeanie?!”
And that was when we saw her running along the shore trying to get back to where we were, but she’d never make it. Jonathan cut her off.
“Damn it!” Trent cried out, jerking the door to the pickup open. He reached behind the seat and grabbed his shotgun.
This wasn’t good. Jonathan was trained to kill people. He’d blow Trent’s head off before Trent could even take aim.
We heard Jeanie scream.
“No, don’t challenge him,” I begged. “Trent he’s a hitman like Micah; he’ll kill you!”
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