Taken By Surprise

by Jessica Frances

  Chapter Fourteen – The Good Deed

  Not wanting to go home, I instead stop at a park nearby. The sun is out in full force today, which I love since only yesterday the weather was gloomy and the day before we even had heavy rain. I watch the breeze make the trees sway slightly and listen as kids laugh at the playground while mothers watch on. The buzzing in my ears has grown quieter, although I still hear it there in the background. I gaze at the cars driving along the roads nearby the park, busily on their way to somewhere. No one in L.A. seems to want to stop and enjoy life. Everyone has somewhere to be or something important to do.

  I’m slow to realize my cell is ringing and by the time I look at it, I have missed the call. I then notice I have several missed calls already. Six are from Dean, two are from Hugh and three are from unknown numbers. I know I should call Dean back, at the very least to make sure he is all right, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want to deal with the situation that I left behind. It’s all too much for me to deal with right now.

  I get out of my car and take deep breaths of the fresh air around me, and feeling tears falling down my face, I wipe them away. Someone just tried to kill me; to blow me up. They had blown away half of the bank. Who had it been? Why did they want me trapped in there? I would be dead right now if it hadn’t been for Dean.

  I try to focus on something else to distract me. I watch in the distance as a young man and an older woman yell at each other while a child holding the woman’s hand watches on in what appears to be fear. The man is wearing black pants and a t-shirt and has more tattoos than untouched skin. The woman is wearing clothes that have very obviously been through many seasons. Her coat looks thin and worn out, same as the young boy with her. She is now pleading with the man and I wonder if they’re homeless. She is sobbing and I feel uncomfortable watching them.

  The man raises his hand and slaps her hard across the face. I gasp and feel frozen watching the man grabbing the boy’s hand and pulling him kicking and screaming away from the woman.

  I rush over to them, unsure what I can possibly do, but when I reach her, I end up being too late. The woman has collapsed on the ground and the man is forcing the boy into his car and in moments, they’re driving away.

  “What happened?” I gasp reaching down to the woman.

  “Please, help me. He’s taken my son. Please…” The woman sobs and I stop reaching out for her and instead race back to my car.

  I should just call the police; this is not something that I should be handling on my own, however after what just happened, I need to do something. I need to not feel helpless. If I was supposed to die before, then I’m living on borrowed time. If today is going to be my lucky day, then maybe I can help someone else out.

  I promise myself I will merely follow the car to see where it ends up and then call the police. That has to be a lot more helpful than only reporting a kidnapping.

  I follow them deep into rough neighborhoods that I have never travelled down. I’m getting farther into gang territory and my idea to follow is beginning to look quite flawed. I internally debate whether or not to stop, but my foot remains down on the accelerator. That kid needs my help and I can’t just leave him now.

  The man finally pulls into a driveway and drags the struggling kid towards a house that looks more like a halfway home. I park opposite the house and watch the kid screaming his lungs out, only to be punched in the gut and told to shut up. I’m shaking uncontrollably in my car as I grip hold of the seat to keep myself from rushing out to him. I grab my cell and move to dial 911 when the same man comes back outside alone and gets back into his car. I duck down, hoping he can’t see me.

  I hear the car driving away and I sit back up. The house looks empty from out here. In fact, the whole street looks empty.

  I jump in shock when my phone starts to go off in my open hand. Dean’s name pops up with my ringtone blaring incredibly loud. I don’t want to answer, but I know I need help. More help.

  “Dean—”

  “Rose, where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m—”

  “I got told you were in an ambulance, but then you disappeared and I was worried—”

  “Dean—”

  “Are you okay? What happened back there? I mean, that bomb… was that for you? Did someone just try and—”

  “Dean, shut up, okay? I need your help.”

  I listen to silence before I realize he isn’t about to interrupt me again.

  “I witnessed a kid being kidnapped.”

  “You what?”

  “I saw a boy being forcibly taken from his mother by some horrible guy covered in tattoos and I followed them and now we’re stopped at a house in Eastside and I don’t know what to do,” I say in one breath and cough afterwards, still feeling sore from what happened at the bank.

  “Seriously, Rose, how do you get into these situations?” Dean sounds annoyed.

  “I didn’t ask to witness a kidnapping, Dean! Are you going to help me or not?”

  “How do you know it’s a kidnapping? It could be just some child custody dispute and you’ve watched too many crime shows and you’re reading into it—”

  “The guy punched the boy before forcing him into his house. Trust me, it’s a kidnapping.”

  “Rose…”

  “You’re a cop, can’t you do something?”

  “I’m kinda busy with this whole bomb mess, you know.” Dean sounds angry and his attitude is getting me worked up.

  “Fine, I’ll just deal with it on my own then!”

  “Rose, don’t be stupid. What street are you on? I’ll get a uniform to drive by you—”

  “You know what; don’t even bother. Turns out, I don’t need your help after all.”

  “Rose, please—”

  I hang up on him and then quickly change the ringtone to silent. Rage rushes through me and I want to scream as loudly as I can. Why doesn’t he believe me? Why won’t he just help me? Help this kid?

  Anger runs through my veins, making me decide to get out of my car and march over to the front door of the house. It isn’t until I reach it that my senses catch up to me and I pause to think about what I’m doing. Anyone could be in this house. They could have weapons and could do anything to me. This is most definitely not a smart thing to do.

  My instincts go on high alert and my ears strain to hear over the slight buzzing still ringing in my ears. I listen for any kind of noise, in case something might warn me someone is coming or can see me.

  I hear and see nothing. My hands shake and I take several deep breaths. I have just had a near death experience and what do I do? I follow an obvious drug dealer or at the very least, some relation to a gang who has just kidnapped a child and then walk up to his front door? I must have hit my head harder than I realized.

  I look at my phone again and see that I already have two more missed calls from Dean. This isn’t his fault. He hasn’t done anything to me except try to help. He saved my life. I shouldn’t get angry at him because I’m crazy.

  I press down on one of his missed calls and press the dial button. He answers immediately.

  “Rose—”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right, this isn’t my job. I’m at 1200 Sloane Avenue, Compton. Send someone, please.”

  I listen to Dean calling out something to someone else and I know he’s getting men sent to my location.

  “You should leave. If you’re seen, you’ll be in more trouble than you already are.”

  “The guy who took the kid left a few minutes ago. I think the house is empty now except for the kid.”

  “Stay in your car, Rose,” Dean says, assuming incorrectly that I wasn’t actually standing by the front door.

  “I didn’t get to thank you before for what you did. You saved my life. Thank you.”

  I look back out at the street and see a car approaching.

  “I’m just glad I was there to help you. Do you have any idea who would want to set a bomb
off at your bank?”

  “No idea.”

  “Did you recognize that voice?”

  “I did, but I don’t know why.” I have already wondered about that. There definitely was something familiar about it.

  “We didn’t find any remains that suggest someone died in the blast. He didn’t stay by the door.”

  “Well, if I set a bomb, I’m going to want to be as far away from that thing as possible.”

  “It means the person is still out there and if he’s targeting you, then you have to be careful. Come back to the bank, I’ll take you to the station and we can give our statement together.”

  “Dean—” I had stopped moving back to my car to speak to Dean and by doing so, I leave myself trapped to the approaching car coming towards me. The same car that I had followed to this location. The tattooed man is back already. I’m stuck in the open with nowhere to hide. I know I won’t make it back to my car in time.

  “Rose?” Dean’s voice calls out from my cell, but I’m already running back towards the front, sidestepping to the side fence. I stand there for only a second before a pit bull rushes the fence, barking angrily at me. Okay, front door it is!

  I have maybe twenty seconds before my presence will become noticeable as he approaches the street. The house is several yards back from the road and the front room protrudes outwards, giving the front door some cover from the left side where his car is approaching.

  I don’t have any pockets in my dress so I stick my phone with Dean still on the other line down my front and rest it under my bra strap. I pull out a bobby pin from my hair and bend it. I quickly work on the lock and try to release it. I once dated a guy for a few weeks, when I went through my bad boy phase, who taught me how to pick locks. It’s the only thing worthwhile I got out of that relationship. I didn’t have a lot of reason to use it, but under the pressure of only having seconds before I get caught, I manage to click the lock into place and rush inside, slamming the door closed just as I hear his car pull into the driveway.

  I turn the lock from the inside so it’s now locked again and I grab my phone out of my bra.

  “Dean, he’s here,” I whisper while looking for a place to hide.

  “Drive away now, Rose. Get out of there.”

  “I didn’t have time to get to my car. I broke into his house.” I peek inside a room and see it’s full of large blocks of powder and bags of pills. Definitely a drug dealer.

  “How the hell do you even get into these situations? My guys are fifteen minutes away. Hide and don’t get found. Keep me on the line. I’m coming.”

  I put my phone back in my bra and move towards the back of the house. I hear the front door jiggle and I quickly jump into the next room I see. I close the door carefully behind me and look around for a good hiding place.

  It’s then that I see the boy chained to a radiator. He has bruises covering his face, most look very fresh. I rush over to him. Both of his eyes are swollen and I feel the fear radiating off him as I approach. He doesn’t know who I am and after what’s happened to him today, he is probably afraid he’s going to get beaten again.

  “My name is Rose. I saw you being taken so I followed you here. I’m going to help you. The police are on their way,” I whisper, sounding breathless.

  The boy nods his head, but when we both hear footsteps approaching, we freeze in fear.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” the boy cries and I feel my heart break.

  “I won’t.” I move backwards, my eyes scanning the room, looking for a weapon. I see a rusted wrench on the ground by the door and I quickly pick it up and stand up just as the door opens. I hug the wall to avoid being hit and I’m now hidden behind the open door. I hold my breath, hearing the man’s footsteps stomp into the room.

  “You talking to yourself, kid? Praying for help? I can already tell you none is coming. After I have some fun with you, I’ll drop your body in the same creek I’ve taken many before you. It’s the price you have to pay for your mother’s debts.”

  “Please, don’t hurt me.” The boy’s voice breaks and I grip the wrench tighter.

  “Begging won’t help you, either.” I hear the sneer in the man’s voice and the boy cries out. I look around the door and see the man has gripped him hard by the hair.

  I give myself two deep breaths to psych myself up and then I step away from behind the door and get as close as I can to him without him noticing. I swing the wrench and hit his back as hard as I can manage. He groans and I swing again, hitting him in the shoulder as he turns around. I try to hit him again, however he’s too quick for me and he pushes me back. I hit the wall hard and the wrench drops out of my hand just as my cell slips out from my bra and bounces to the ground.

  “Who the hell are you?” He grips my throat hard and my heart pounds loudly in my chest.

  I scratch at his hand that is suffocating me and see black spots starting to appear in front of my eyes. A rushing noise sounds in my ears and I know that if I don’t do something now I’ll be dead for sure.

  I kick my legs out hard, hoping to hit the man, and manage to kick him hard in the groin. In shock, he drops his hand and I fall to the ground, gasping for air.

  “ROSE!” I hear Dean’s voice yelling from my cell.

  I reach out and grab it in my hand for only a second before the man’s foot stomps down on it and I hear the crunch of my cell under his boot. I only barely managed to move my hand away in time.

  “You’re going to pay for that.”

  He grabs my hair, made easier from the ponytail I have it in, and pulls me hard, moving me across the room. I cry out in pain and try to pry his hand off with my left hand while I my right hand slides along the ground as I’m dragged towards the doorway. My hand touches something hard and metal as we move and I quickly grab and swing the wrench I had used earlier and hit his arm hard. He lets me go again and I hurriedly get up, swinging it once more. This time I hit him square in the face. Blood splatters around us as I take off a chunk of his skin. I swing at him again when he takes a step towards me, ready to pounce again, and I knock him in the side of his head. He falls from the force of the blow and his head smacks into the wall. I hear the crack upon impact as I stand over his unmoving body, breathing heavily, fearful that he is going to get up again.

  “Rose?” the boy whispers. I walk over to him, careful to keep my eyes on the man.

  “It’s okay, he won’t hurt you.” I pull out another bobby pin since I can’t remember where I put the other one and pick the lock chaining him to the radiator. This one is harder to do since my hands won’t stop shaking and tears are falling freely down my face as I feel shock setting in.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the boy to distract myself.

  “Jonah.”

  I finally get his lock open and help him to get out of the chains. I tense, hearing a groan coming from the man on the ground. He is stirring.

  “Come on, we have to get out of here.” There isn’t time to wait for Dean. I have no idea how much time has passed. It could have been twenty minutes or just two. I feel like I’ve been stuck in this house for hours, though.

  Jonah and I run out of the room and down the hallway. On the floor by the door, I see an open black bag full of cash and without thinking or stopping, I scoop it up and push through the front door and out into the bright daylight outside.

  I keep ahold of Jonah’s hand. Since his eyes are so swollen, I doubt he can see much of anything now and I don’t want him to fall. I take him to my car and, once I get him buckled in, I jump into the driver’s seat. Adrenaline pumps through my body as I madly drive through the streets. It’s a full ten minutes of speeding before I feel I can speak again.

  “Are you okay? Can I take you to the hospital?”

  “I want to go home.” Jonah is shaking in his seat and I try to slow down.

  “Okay. Where is home?”