“Yeah. I want to take you away for a little while. Get out of the city.”
The alarms went off in the background. “Ladder 1 . . . Engine—”
“Gotta go, honey . . . love you.”
“Love you, too. Be safe.”
I HAD just gotten the kids into their own beds. Jayden woke up crying, wanting his sissy, so I put him in bed with her. As you could probably guess, she wasn’t having it and kicked him onto the floor with Smoke. He loved to sleep with Jayden, I think because he smelled like cookies and got to lick him.
For some reason Jayden loved to sleep on the floor. Half the time I would wake up in the middle of the night and trip over him lying in the middle of our room on the floor.
With the kids asleep, I decided to watch a movie.
The kids got up and wanted back in my bed with me, so there we all were in the king-size bed with me watching a movie and them sleeping on me with the dog at the foot of the bed.
I was just dozing off when I heard a knock at our door. It was nearing ten, so I wasn’t comfortable answering it, but I went to see who it was.
Lauren. With my mom.
Since the other night when Ridley showed up, I had talked to my mom once, and let her know she needed to call Ridley. She hung up on me.
I got up and closed the bedroom door. Smoke lifted his head, then flopped it back down. Some watch dog he was. Here was someone pounding on our door, and he wasn’t budging.
As I opened the door, they immediately came barging in. “Aubrey, we’re in trouble.”
“Uh—”
“I’m serious. You need to listen to what’s happening.” Lauren was all frantic, and I was pretty sure she’d been drinking.
“Where’s Gavin?” It was ten o’clock at night, and her son wasn’t with her. Immediately I was starting to panic.
“He’s with Judie. She took him for the night because I was working at the shop . . . remember?” I shook my head; I had forgotten about that. “Anyway, Mom came by.” She gestured to our mom, who moved out from behind her. Blood caked the side of her hair above her hairline, and the left side of her face was swollen and bruised.
I said nothing. Was it wrong of me that I had no reaction? That I felt no anger seeing her that way?
I don’t think it was. A few times I had looked just like this, battered and bruised, wishing someone would see, and they didn’t. That person was her.
For the years of neglect, that’s what caused it.
“Ridley hit her!” Lauren came around the corner with an icepack in her hand and then handed it to our mom. She regarded me with frantic eyes. “What are we going to do?”
I looked at her like she was crazy. “Call the police.” I gave Georgia a darker, more pointed look. “Why is it that he’s so desperately looking for you, huh?”
Georgia dropped the towel she was holding to her face, blood-soaked and dripping, revealing a quarter-inch gash over her left cheek. “He wants his money. That’s why he’s here.”
“What money?” Lauren and I both asked. I knew she owed someone money, as that was why she usually came to town. Her owing Ridley money explained why he’d followed her here, but not why she would owe someone like him money.
As she explained, she owed Ridley a lot of money. And I mean a lot. Twenty-five thousand.
“How in the hell can you owe him that much money? He works as a fisherman.”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around this.
Georgia’s eyes glazed over, and then she glared at me. “He’s not a fisherman. That was his uncle’s boat. And he set it on fire for him for the insurance.” And then she paused, maybe for the dramatics of it, and said, “Ridley’s a drug dealer. I get my stuff from him. And well . . . I owe him for what I’ve used over the . . . years.”
“Holy shit,” Lauren and I both said at the same time.
“That’s a lot of drugs for twenty-five thousand.”
“I was dealing for a while and . . . ” She shrugged, as if this shouldn’t have been a big deal. Her leg bounced as she frantically twisted a ring around her thumb. “I used my own stash and gave some to friends.”
I’m sure you can imagine, but right about here was where I freaked out. “Get out.” I tried to keep my voice down for the sake of the kids. “Lauren . . . you stay, but, Georgia” — I refused to call her “Mom” right now — “Get out of my apartment. Right now.”
“We have bigger problems than that,” she said, blinking slowly and then watching my reaction. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap now, working against each other.
“What problems?” I asked gravely, fear beginning to rise. I could feel my heart start to pound when there was another knock as the door, this time louder, the sound of a man knocking at the door.
“That problem,” she said, almost in a bored manner.
Silence enveloped my apartment for a moment. Aside from the wind, nothing was heard.
The knock came again, and a rough voice followed. “Open the door, Aubrey!”
Ridley.
Smoke immediately started barking, and I knew then the kids would be woken up.
“Lauren . . . ” Before I could get the words out for her to call for help, the door came crashing open, the wood splintering at the hinges as it cracked. It didn’t take it down all the way, but it did open it.
Oh, my God. My babies.
“Mommy!” Gracie screamed, followed by Jayden’s cries and more barking by Smoke.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
I wanted to run to them, but I knew that wasn’t happening.
Please someone hear this and call 911. Please hear this. I prayed to God our nosey neighbors were home. Hell, they’d called 911 when Gracie broke our window over the summer. Maybe they would now.
“You touch that phone, and I kill your kids.” He waved a gun in our direction. “Now . . . ” He slammed my door back with his booted foot, tracking through my living room toward us, rain-soaked steps left behind. “ . . . I either get my money right now . . . or I take it out on you.” He looked to Georgia, and then a shifty smile came my way. “And those kids in the bedroom.”
I don’t know if you can feel when you’re about to die. But right then, I was sure I was about to.
I would have never expected a guy like Ridley to hold this kind of power.
But he did. He held power over me, my mother, Lauren, my kids . . . but most of all . . . Jace.
I knew now how quickly my life could change. How quickly everything could be taken away.
Ladder 1 to command, we’re at the rear exit on four. Bring ladder.
* * *
Aubrey
“I JUST want to talk.”
“Fuck you,” I managed to say, squirming against the ties that bound me to my dining room chair, telling myself he wouldn’t hurt my kids. No one would hurt innocent children, right?
Ridley’s hands rested against the wall, his eyes pleading smoke and lies, all he’d ever been to me. It was just like Ridley to think this plan would work.
“I asked her for the money . . . she doesn’t have it.” My eyes darted to my mother, who was sitting on the couch free of restraints, unlike Lauren and me, and unlike my children, barricaded in Gracie’s room at the end of the hall.
She knew then I hated her. She had to have known.
“Shut up!” I gasped, infuriated that they had even come here. “I can’t believe you would think that I would give you anything. You never stop, do? You just keep coming back thinking you can take just a little more from our lives! You keep fucking them up even more!”
Georgia looked at me, stunned and stupid, that I’d said those words to her.
I couldn’t see straight — if not from anger, then from my tears that blurred my vision with hatred for her and for Ridley.
He leaned against the wall, watching the fireplace, a callous expression on his face, his gun in his hand against his thigh. “You know, Aubrey . . . ” His eyes found mine. I refused
to meet his stare and instead watched the door to Gracie’s room, the handle jiggling. “You’re lying to yourself if you think you’re any different from your mother.”
“I’m nothing like her.” I felt a curl of nausea as I spoke, and I saw Gracie’s fingers slide under the door, her pleas for me to open the door coming louder, more frantic, and Smoke’s barking was enough to wake everyone in the apartment complex. He knew we were in trouble. My hands started to shake.
I had to think of a way to get him out of here. The bone-deep need to protect them was taking over, and I started to contemplate ways I could get to them. Looking to Lauren, I could see she was sobbing, black mascara smeared down her pale white face, along with the blood from her mouth.
“What do you want from us?” Lauren begged him to answer her.
“I want my money.” His face was stern, as was the glare he delivered to Georgia and then me. “And your boy pissed me off. He’s gonna pay for that.”
Like I said, I never imagined Ridley having this type of power. The boy I knew, the one who moved around from foster family to foster family, was more troubled than powerful, blaming and abusive. His only defense then was his fists; now he chose weapons. Something had changed in him. I’m not sure what exactly, or if I’d ever know.
Did I even care?
No, I didn’t. I cared about the safety of my children and my sister right now.
It was clear I didn’t know Ridley any longer, if I ever had.
He walked toward me and smiled, bitter, but with had an amused edge to it. His back turned to Lauren and he faced me completely, kneeling down in front of me so his face was at my ear, his breath blowing over me. His gun pressed against my throat as he spoke. “Do you think he can save you now? Do you think he can protect you?”
“Fuck you!” My head was throbbing, and the words offered relief. “Get out of here.” I tried to push him against him but couldn’t. He was so much stronger than I was.
“Just give him the money, Aubrey. If you love me, you’ll help me.”
Lauren looked at me and then our mom. “We don’t love you. That’s where you’re wrong. We can’t love someone who’s destroyed our lives and made us feel guilty for having our own!”
She had the power to save us right now. She could. But would she?
No. She walked out the door, and Ridley let her.
Maybe they were in on it together. Maybe this was some kind of sick joke to them. I’d never know.
“All I wanted was my money. But . . . ” His enraged, vengeance-seeking tone helped me understand. “Your boy really pissed me off the other night.”
Hot tears stung my eyes when I realized that Ridley had not only planned this, but my mother just walked away.
My whole body was shaking with anger as I closed my eyes, the tears spilling over as I heard Gracie’s and Jayden’s cries coming louder. They knew there was something wrong.
As he knelt in front of me, his hands went to the sides of the chair, while his gun was shoved inside the front of his pants.
I hope it goes off and shoots his dick off.
“Stay away from me!” I screamed, but his hand over my mouth cut off my voice. I struggled against the rope around my hands, burning and scraping against my skin.
“Don’t hold out on me. Fucking scream.” His whisper was low as he parted my legs and wrapped his hands around my backside, moving my hips to the edge of the chair and forcing himself hard against me. “Beg him to save you.”
My heart’s thundering rhythm kept me from speaking. I only stared at the door to Gracie’s room.
Lauren screamed, “Help!” The bloodcurdling sound echoed throughout the apartment. Gracie’s followed.
“Beg him to protect you like he said he would.” When I didn’t respond, his frustration got to him, his tone vibrating through my entire body, shaking my bones. “Fucking scream!”
I wasn’t going to allow him to take anything from me. Not when my mind drifted to what could be taken from me now. My babies.
“I’ll never scream for you,” I said, wincing when his left hand grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Never.”
He whispered in my ear, placing a kiss on my neck, “You know you want this. You just won’t admit it. We were good, Aubrey. You remember.”
“Don’t touch me, Ridley. Don’t.”
He laughed, sinister and sarcastic, as if amused that I would try to stop someone like him. “Why? Because your boy is some kind of hot-shot firefighter? Where is he now?”
“No. Because I don’t want you touching me.”
“Oh, come on . . . you used to beg for it.”
“See” — I pushed myself back away from him, knocking the chair over and kicking him as hard as I could between the legs — “that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve never begged you for anything.”
Lauren’s screams got louder, and I guessed Ridley knew someone was going to come soon.
He stood, hunched over in pain, his hands on his knees. “You shouldn’t have done that, Aubrey,” he warned me, taking a lighter from his pocket. “Now you’ve pissed me off.”
He walked back to the bedroom where the kids were, but from my place on the floor I couldn’t see what exactly he was doing.
When I smelled the smoke, I knew what he’d had done. He’d set fire to something back there.
I immediately panicked and started thrashing around.
“You know.” He paused, his eyes becoming a little darker, and he sniffed, his knuckles sweeping over his bottom lip, his forehead scrunching as he spoke. He walked back down the hall, and I could instantly feel the heat when he reached forward and flicked his lighter, and held an open flame against our Christmas tree. “When I came back, I came here for one thing. I wanted my money. And then I saw you, and things changed a little. You looked good.”
“So, what . . . you thought you had some kind of chance with me?” The tree went up quickly, and the manic roar that fire brings with it silenced Lauren’s screams. Panic took over.
This can’t be happening. Please no. Don’t let this be happening.
“No. Just wanted to get even.” He stepped back from the tree, which was smoldering in flames, heating the room. “See what it was like to break your heart this time.”
“Oh, give me a fucking break. Like I broke your heart by leaving, you cheating, bastard!” My legs kicked as I tried desperately to free my hands, Lauren doing the same but had started screaming again. She knew it was our only chance, as the flames from the tree were catching sparks against the curtains and the carpet. It was only a matter of minutes before our entire apartment would be on fire, and there was no way I could save my kids.
“You’re wrong.” He was standing by the fireplace now, his back to the door. In that moment my mother returned with a bottle, and stood silently at the door. Careful not to acknowledge her, I watched Ridley. “I loved you.”
Maybe she did come back to help us. I’ll never know.
I was the closest to the flames, and the smoke was too much. Sputtering coughs, I heard the sound of glass breaking, and I was lost in the smoke.
Everyone has a story. Some beautiful. Some tragic.
For a moment, and though it didn’t feel like a moment, this was something tragic.
It was one night, one fate, and something tragic destroying something beautiful.
Heavy sheets of smoke curling and rolling together, constricting my visions of this life of mine.
You see that there?
That wrenching pain in your gut, knowing not everything is as it seems?
Look closer. That nervous energy you now have, stumbling over words you can’t say, a moaning plea to be saved, slurred words on the tip of your tongue — there’s the something tragic.
When I have nothing left to give, nothing left to say, it’s him who brought me back to the moment, in the arms of my firefighter, the warmth of his heart and body, struggling to save his family.
His voice was muffled under his mask, slurred.
<
br /> Just as I felt like I was going to fall, it’s the warmth of his breath against my neck that kept me there, on the edge, with him.
“Stay with me, honey.” His voice was muffled by his mask, a harsh gravelly sound, followed by the hiss of each breath he took. “Please. Please just stay with me.”
I said something, though I’m not sure what, and he pushed my hair back, cupping my face with his gloved hand. I felt the warmth.
“You’re okay . . . hold onto me. I got you.”
I looked up at him, smoke and flames curling around us. He stared at me for a long moment, and though I knew he had so many questions right then, he had one thing on his mind. Saving us. “Our b-b-babies . . . ”
Tucking me into his chest, he carried me through the heavy smoke to safety.
The air was thick. Black soot surrounded me. My skin felt tight, my lips and cheeks burning so much I felt them cracking.
I remember laying my head against his chest as he took quick steps. My arms wrapped around his neck, holding on as tight as my weak arms would let me.
“Breathe, baby . . . please, just breathe . . . ” Removing his breathing mask, he placed it against my face, urging me to take a breath. I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel I should be able to. “Breathe for me! Please just fucking breathe . . . ” His voice faded.
I wanted my babies alive. But me, I wasn’t sure I was worth saving.
I deserved whatever punishment fate handed me. The fear inside marks us in ways we’ll never fully understand, and draped over my heart are fears I can’t change.
Command to dispatch, rescue efforts have been completed. We’re on to an exterior attack to save what we can.
10-4
* * *
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Jace
“THAT MOTHERFUCKER hit me!” Denny was holding a rag to his face, cussing out Axe over whatever it was the two were arguing about.
Something Worth Saving Page 28
