by Dana Mason
“Oh my God!” Johnny rushed at him again, but Mark held him back. “You’re not a father. You’re a fucking sperm donor,” Johnny growled.
“Well, when you’re rotting in jail it won’t matter to you either way.” Carl’s eyes squinted and he said, “You’ll be out of my house and off my wife.”
Ali pulled back her hand and slapped him so hard, his head popped back on his shoulders.
When he straightened, Johnny smirked at the angry red hand print left on his cheek.
“I’m not your wife,” she said, fisting then shaking her hand.
“Regardless,” Carl said. “That punk is going to jail.”
“Gee, Carl”—Brian smiled—“would you like me to arrest Ali too?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Carl said. “Of course not.” He turned and walked toward the bathroom with his hand on his cheek.
“Let’s go, Bennett,” Brian said.
“No, Brian—” Mark stood between them. “You can’t arrest him.”
“I’m not going to arrest him. I’m removing him from the situation and leaving you to smooth things over with Carl and Ali.” He looked at Johnny, leaning toward him, getting in his face. “If you can’t calm him down, then we have a problem.”
“Take Johnny to my house for a while and let me see if I can get rid of Carl,” Mark said.
“I’m not leaving Ali,” Johnny broke in.
“Would you rather go to jail?” Brian said through gritted teeth. “God damn it, Bennett, this is a distraction we don’t need. This is about finding Micah, not about Carl.”
“Take him outside and give me some time with Ali and Carl.” Mark looked over his shoulder at Ali who was standing outside the bathroom door, knocking. “I’ll try to smooth things over.”
“Mark, make it quick,” Brian said, and slapped a hand on Johnny’s back. “Let’s go.”
Johnny turned to face Mark. “Please . . . please don’t leave her alone with that pig.”
Mark nodded. “No problem. I have an idea, just get the hell out of my way and get some fresh air.”
Brian and Johnny stepped out onto the back patio and closed the door behind them. “Have a seat, Bennett, relax for a minute and get your shit together.”
“I guess if I get fired before I even start work—I’ll head back to Nashville.”
“Nobody’s going to fire you. Everyone at the station hates that bastard after what he did to Sarah. You’ll be a hero down there,” Brian said.
“I’m not about to get involved in some drama shit with that man.” Johnny looked away from Brian’s critical gaze. He felt bad enough about Micah and Ali, he didn’t need Carl coming around pretending to be the worried daddy and trying to remind him who Ali’s husband was. “I made the big gesture; I moved over three thousand miles to be with her.”
“First of all, you’re not getting arrested—unless you pull another stunt like that. Second, nobody is falling for that jerk’s act, especially Ali. She hates him more than anyone.” Brian plopped down into the patio chair across from Johnny. “It takes a lot to make a leap like that, maybe you should stop feeling sorry for yourself and follow through.”
Johnny didn’t respond, instead he let the conversation die by changing the subject. “So what’s up with you and Melissa?”
“She hates me.” Brian shrugged, but by the look on his face, it wasn’t the careless gesture it should have been. “We were together for years, but then she went off to college and I married her best friend.”
Johnny chuckled, and he thought he had problems. “Melissa said you married her worst enemy.”
“They were best friends until Jules and I got married. Now Melissa hates us both. It’s a shame; Julie really misses her . . .”
“And you?”
Brian shrugged again and said, “If I could go back and change the past—I wouldn’t.”
“You couldn’t wait for her to finish college?”
“She’s the one who left. Ali didn’t leave Mark. She married him, got her degree then went to law school all without leaving the area.”
Johnny smirked. “Look how that turned out.”
“At least they don’t hate each other.” Brian gave him a crooked smile and said, “Hopefully when we get Micah home, Melissa and Julie will make nice and be friends again.”
Johnny leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The word if hanging from his thoughts. If they got Micah home. It was hard to be positive with such a small boy. Micah changed every day, grew bigger and more expressive by the minute. If they didn’t find him soon, all the photos would be obsolete and they won’t have an image to show the public.
“We will find Micah.” The hardness in Brian’s voice made Johnny open his eyes and look over at him. “I’m not walking away from this until he’s found . . . so drop the defeated attitude.” When Johnny didn’t speak, Brian said, “Just keep Ali sane and leave searching for the baby up to me, everything will be okay, Bennett.”
Ali knocked on the bathroom door. “Carl, let me in.”
Carl opened the door and looked down at her.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, blocking the door so he couldn’t get passed her. He gave her a pathetic look and she wanted to slap him again.
“It hurts me that you think I don’t care.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you’re fooling? You haven’t even called to ask about Micah—not once in four mouths.” She shook her head. “What do you plan to gain from this?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Just go, Carl! Leave!” When his face dropped, she felt bad for being so nasty. She closed her eyes for a moment then said, “If you want news on Micah, someone will call with updates.”
“Ali, honey, why are you so angry with me.” He leaned closer. “Our son is in danger . . . I want to be here for you.”
“You want to be here for me?” Ali said, pushing his chest. “I needed you months ago. I needed you while I was carrying our son! I’ve needed help with him all these months.”
“Alison.” He reached out and rubbed her arm.
She slapped his hand away. “I told you not to touch me. You lost that right when you hit on another woman while I was in labor with your son.”
He rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily. “Please stop.”
“No, Carl, you stop. I don’t want you here and I certainly don’t want you touching me.”
He reached again, but she pulled away. “Just go—please leave.”
Carl grabbed her arm, tightening his grip as she moved away from him. “Let’s talk.”
She jerked out of his grip, leaned toward him and got nose to nose with him. “Why? You never listen to me. Even now, I’m asking you to leave and you’re ignoring me!”
“That’s because you’re acting like an irrational child, Alison.”
“My baby is missing—in danger! How exactly would you expect me to act?”
“Well—first I’d expect you to be a little more discreet about your boyfriend.”
“How dare you judge me after what you did, you hypocrite!” She smacked at him again.
He reached out and grabbed both her arms this time, pulling her closer. “Stop it, Ali.”
“Don’t touch me!” The words came out in a guttural scream, and the sound of her own frustration fueled her anger.
Everything she’d been through over the last several months bubbled up inside her and once she started swinging at him, she couldn’t stop. Her open palms landed hard on his face, hitting continuously harder and faster, scratching him and boxing his ears. Fire rose in her like she’d never felt before and as she landed every hit, she felt more empowered.
She wanted him out of her house and out of her life. Every nerve in her body sparked and hatred flowed through her veins so strongly she thought she would explode from it. How dare he come here now and claim to care about her son, her sweet baby Micah who was God knows where. She’d kill him for hurting her baby, and for hurting the one man who
loved her baby and wanted to be there for him. How could he claim to care about them now, now when Micah was out there alone.
He lifted his hands to protect his face, but that didn’t stop her. She didn’t stop until arms wrapped around her midsection and lifted her off the ground. She kicked her legs out and nailed Carl several times before Mark could get her out of the bathroom.
“Let me go, I’m going to kill him. I’m fucking going to kill him,” she screamed.
“What did I do wrong?” Carl shouted. “This isn’t my fault.”
“Fuck you! Get out of my house!” Ali screamed back. “Go crawl in a hole somewhere and die you son of a bitch!”
When she was done screaming, she started sobbing and collapsed into Mark’s arms.
Mark carried her into the backyard and placed her on her feet, then embraced her and let her cry for several minutes. “Ali, honey,” he said when she calmed down. “What has gotten into you?”
She pushed away and wiped her face clean. She had to fight from hiccupping out another sob. “My child has been stolen, what do you think has gotten into me? And don’t you defend him.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when hands rested on her upper arms and wrapped around her. She turned and fell into Johnny’s chest, his warmth exactly what she needed.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Johnny whispered.
“Ali, this isn’t helping the situation,” Mark said.
“The only situation I care about improving is the one concerning my missing son.” Ali fought to hold in the whine, but it was there and she was too emotionally drained to contain it. She withdrew from Johnny’s embrace and faced Mark. “I just want my baby back . . .”
“What the hell happened?” Brian asked.
“Ali nearly killed Carl.” When Mark smirked, Ali couldn’t help but smile a little too. “It was fabulous, but it’s not going to keep Johnny from being arrested.” He smiled again and said, “I have an idea, but you both”—he pointed between Ali and Johnny—“need to keep your cool.”
“Let’s get on with it so we can get back to the business at hand,” Brian said, throwing his hands in the air.
“Tell Carl you’ll let him come by here every day for one-on-one news on Micah if he promises not to press charges against Johnny.”
She dropped her head and nodded. “ . . . but we’ll have to deal with him being here.”
“But you’ll also have Johnny here.”
She threw her hands out in front of her. “And they’ll be brawling every ten minutes.”
“Only if Carl gets out of line.” Mark snickered again. “And I think you’ve scared him off for now.”
Brian perked up and stared at Mark for a few seconds. “That’s actually a great idea.” He glanced between Johnny and Mark then focused on Ali. “Do you think he’ll do it?
She shrugged dropping her hands. Carl didn’t care about Micah, which made it highly unlikely he even cared about getting updates. “Why is Carl here? He’s never . . .” She glanced at Mark and wondered what he was after here. This can’t be just about keeping Johnny here. “What are you up to?”
“I’m trying to keep you happy and sane, and keep Johnny from losing it too.” He pointed to his chest. “I am not the bad guy here, Al.”
“No, but Carl is . . . why would you want him here? You hate him as much as I do.”
“If Carl’s checking in daily, we can keep an eye on him. It’ll keep him from screwing up our investigation and freely talking to the press whenever he wants,” Brian said.
“Exactly,” Mark said.
Ali wrapped her arms around her shoulders and hugged herself. She didn’t care about Mark’s motives, she needed Johnny. He was the only person who truly understood how she felt, and she needed that connection with someone. The agony of not knowing what happened to Micah was more than she could bear alone . . . losing Johnny too . . . she covered her face with her hands to hide her forming tears. If—when Micah came home, she wanted Johnny to be there, not Carl.
“What’s it gonna be, Al?” Mark asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“I want Johnny here . . . but Carl needs to stay away from us.”
Chapter Nineteen
They agreed Ali should approach Carl alone. She prepared herself and pushed back her emotions long enough to fake a sincere conversation with him. Regardless of his motives, he was at least pretending to care about Micah and she would exploit that if she had to.
She entered the house and walked into the living room where Carl was being questioned by Agent Peters. Ali was a little surprised at the tone used by the FBI Agent, as gentle and careful as he’d been with her, he was the exact opposite with Carl, harsh and short. Asking questions that didn’t seem relevant for the father of a missing child, it was confirmation that Bill had actually listened to her when she explained her relationship with Carl and Carl’s non-existent relationship with Micah. She was torn between pity for Carl and pleasure, because he deserved the bad judgment. He had abandoned his child and now his child had been stolen. Any respectable—any caring father would have been here days ago.
She skirted back into the dining room and waited for them to finish. A few minutes later, when Agent Peters rounded the corner from the living room, he was red faced and looked a little angry.
He nodded at her and said, “We’re finished.”
She whispered a quiet thank you and went back to find Carl.
She wanted to laugh when she compared Carl’s pale face to Agent Peters’ red face, but she didn’t know for sure if he was pale with worry or pale with fear.
He looked up at her when she sat across from him. He leaned forward and started to talk, but she held up her hand to silence him. “Why are you here, Carl?”
His lids drooped and he said, “I’m worried about you. I thought you might need me. I didn’t want you to have to deal with this alone.”
“As you can see, I’m not alone.”
“Yes, but Alison we are the parents. We should be dealing with this together. I want to be involved too.”
She leaned forward. “Why? You’ve never cared before.”
“And I regret that.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I should have been here to protect you, I know that now.”
“Well I don’t need you. If that’s all you’re worried about, then you can leave.”
“I want to be here, be involved. Let me stay, I’ll sleep in the guest room,” he said. “You don’t need him here, you need your husband.”
“No! Don’t you—don’t you dare.” Heat flushed her face and she fought to hold back her anger, trying not to forget she had a purpose for talking to him. “You are no longer my husband—and you can absolutely not sleep here.” She closed her eyes for a moment to regain her composure. Why was she surprised by anything that ever came out of his mouth? “Okay, Carl . . . you want to be here. I get that.” She stuffed her tongue in her cheek trying to find the words she needed. “You can’t sleep here, I’m sorry, but that’s not okay with me . . . but I’ll let you come by every day to check on the status. I have one condition.”
His face perked up and he scooted forward, reaching for her hands, but she jerked away before he could touch her. “No. Two conditions.”
“Anything, Alison. I don’t want to make this harder on you.”
“You can come over daily, check on the status, check on things here.” She nearly cringed when she said it. “But first, you can’t touch me. Ever.” She waited for him to respond to that.
His eyes drifted to the floor and he nodded in agreement.
“Second, you can’t have Johnny arrested. You can be here only if he can stay.” He started to speak but she stopped him again. “I mean it! No more threats, no talking to the press about Johnny, Brian or Mark. None of it or I’ll have Agent Peters toss you out on your ass. You got it?”
Carl stared at her for a few moments and she could almost hear the gears shifting in his brain as he considered what she’d said. He finally smiled, it wasn’t
a kind smile, more of a smirk. “Let me get this straight.” He leaned a little more forward. “You’ll let me ‘stop by’ every day to check on things provided I don’t speak to the press about anything . . . is that right?”
The calculating glare on his face made Ali a little sick to her stomach. “Yes, Carl, I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”-
“Well—the fact is, Alison, I seem to be holding the cards here.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s as important to you that your boyfriend stay out of jail.”
“What exactly are you saying, Carl?”
“I’m saying, you’ll let me stay here, in the guest room and I’ll not press charges against that punk”—he pointed toward the dining room—“I’m also saying, if you don’t let me stay here, I’ll say whatever the hell I want to the press. Does this make our situation more clear?” Ali’s stomach turned. How had she ever loved such a conniving person? “Agent Peters will have you arrested for obstruction if you speak to the press.”
He smiled again and his eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “Ah, but then Johnny will get arrested too. Which is more important to you? Keeping me away, or keeping him here?” He lifted his hands out, palms up. “It’s your decision, Honey.”
What could she say, her son had been stolen and now his father was blackmailing her . . . and she had to give in if she wanted to keep Johnny here. “I hate you,” she whispered.
“I’m just trying to do the right thing for our son, Alison.”
“Fuck off and die, Carl.” She stood and walked away from him.
“Is that a yes, Honey?”
Ew, God, his sickly sweet tone pushed her anger to its peak. “You can stay, but stay the hell away from me or I might just kill you.”
Johnny crept into the entry hall with Brian and waited for Ali to finish with Carl. He sat on the bottom step and tried to listen, but he couldn’t hear with all the other activity going on throughout the house. Brian walked passed him and stood in the doorway to the living room for a moment, then he walked back over and leaned against the wall near the steps.
