Conheartists

by Webster, K

  The door chimes and Francis comes rushing in, one scarf wrapped around her waist like a skirt and the other one tied around her hair. Chandler is tucked under her arm as she prances right up to us. Sparkling ’80s looking tennis shoes she must have found in her suitcase. Looking crazier than hell.

  “As I was saying, I dropped my wallet and—”

  “Gangsters,” Francis cries out, her bottom lip wobbling. “The gangsters stole my purse.” She lets out a fake sob. “And my baby.”

  “Your baby?” Velma croaks, shooting me a confused stare. “I thought you were here for your grandma.”

  Francis lets crocodile tears roll down her cheeks. “Grandma is going to be devastated if we show up without the baby.”

  “I’ll call the police,” Velma coos. “You poor things.”

  I shoot Francis a withering glare. “That’s not necess—”

  “Detective Stanley is already on the case,” Francis assures her, swiping away her tears. “We just need to fill up the tank and be on our way. We’ll pay you back, Velma. One woman to another.”

  “I can’t take from the register,” the old woman relents, “but I can give you sixty bucks to get by. You poor thing.”

  Francis and Chandler lean over the counter to hug the elderly woman. When the lady walks over to her purse to find her wallet, Francis leans into me and whispers, “I’m really good with old folks.” She gives me an obnoxious, exaggerated wink and then falls back into character.

  Who the fuck is this girl?

  “Here, hon. Sixty dollars. You find that baby, Miss…”

  “Anastasia Rockefeller, heir to the famed Rockefellers of New York. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”

  The old woman blinks. “The Rockefellers?”

  “The one and only,” Francis says shyly. “I like to remain out of the limelight. I’m a bashful one. Lovie here pulls me out of my shell.” She bats her lashes at me in a loving way.

  Bashful, my ass.

  For a moment, I stare at this woman in astonishment.

  My captive is a con artist too.

  A really fucking weird one.

  Francis

  Driving Miss Daisy Bullshit

  “What the fuck was that back there?”

  I open the bag of nuts he rudely tossed at me while walking out of the convenience store.

  “You mean that nice old lady who just gave us sixty dollars to get gas?” I slide into the passenger side of Momma’s car. “Oh, yeah, and these nuts you threw at me? They’re actually tasty.” I pop another corn nut into my mouth, proud of my impromptu acting.

  “Yeah, well, being as squirrels love nuts and all,” he mumbles and throws himself into the driver’s side, starting the car and peeling out of the gas station.

  “What do squirrels have to do with these tasty little treats?” I wonder, turning back and feeding one to Chandler. He yaps and crunches one between his little canines. “See, even Chandler Bing likes ’em.”

  He shakes his head and pulls back onto the dark highway.

  A few minutes pass while we sit in silence. My mind is so full of questions, I can practically see them pouring out my ears. I turn to Thor, but even before I open my mouth, he grumbles at me.

  “What?”

  “How do you know I was going to ask anything?”

  He turns to me, his brow creased, giving me his menacing stare.

  “Okay, fine. I was going to ask a question, but don’t you think it’s important we figure out what we’re doing?”

  He turns back to the road. “I know what we’re doing. I’ve kidnapped you, and I’m taking you to someone.”

  “Hmmm… And are you positive my friends didn’t put you up to this? They sure know how to meddle in my life. I mean, to send me an angry outlaw like—”

  Another low rumble cuts me off. “For the last time, I have no idea who your friends are. This is all real, sweetheart. You think this is some sort of Driving Miss Daisy bullshit? I’m not here to take you on a joyride or fulfill some fantasy. I’m a bad guy. I am not here to sweep you off your feet. Speaking of…what the hell are you wearing?”

  We both glance down at my shoes. They’re my bedazzled high-tops I got on EBay. “They’re my limited-edition high-tops. They actually glow in the—”

  “Jesus Christ, never mind.” He pulls his attention back to the road.

  Not sure what got shoved so far up his butt, but I decide not to push it. I’m more offended he doesn’t like my shoes. They were recommended for working out and Richard Simmons said in an interview once, they were his favorites. I throw my back into the seat and cross my arms, bringing my eyes outside. It’s dark and nothing but field and highway, so boredom hits me almost immediately.

  If Mr. Grouch isn’t going to talk to me, then I’ll entertain myself.

  I start tapping my foot on the floorboard of the car.

  Unfolding my arms, I drum my fingers on the armrest on the side of the door. The theme song to Happy Days pops into my head and I start humming. Just as I’m at the chorus the car swerves to the right, coming to a complete stop on the side of the road. My hands are grabbing my chest in fear of a heart attack when I look at Thor. “Oh my word, did you hit something?”

  He doesn’t say a word. He jumps out of the car. I watch him through the darkness, but he’s gone to the back of the car.

  The trunk opens.

  And shuts.

  Then I’m again startled when my door flies open. Thor is at my side, holding rope and my scarves.

  “Oh no, do we need to drag something out of the road?” I ask, worried we hit a poor animal.

  “Open up.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, confused.

  “I said open up, sweetheart.”

  He’s the one losing his marbles. I open my mouth to ask him if he’s feeling well when in goes the scarf. I fight him, trying to pull it out, but before I can do any retracting, he has his big bear arms around me, tying my wrists. I squeal through the thin lace, but my nose catches a faint scent of a man.

  Very rude, but seemingly very nice smelling man.

  Before I catch myself, I’m bound and gagged. Again.

  Darn it!

  “There. Now be a good little squirrel and sit there.” He slams the door shut and walks around. The headlights shine on his silhouette and boy does he sure know how to hold that scowl. Not to mention he has a perky tush.

  He jumps in just as I start to giggle through my gag.

  “Seriously?”

  He looks at me and I laugh harder.

  Trying to ignore me, he pulls back on the road. We drive for a few more minutes until my boredom gets the best of me again and I start to hum the theme song to Three’s Company. That’s when the car takes another swift veer onto the shoulder. I turn to him, curious why we’re stopping this time.

  Thor reaches over and rips the scarf from my mouth. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Wrong with me? You’re the one with no manners. Tying me up. Gagging me so I can’t talk.”

  His hands toss to the sky. “I’m a bad guy! And your kidnapper. You should be scared of me, not want to chitty chat and sing horrible eighties theme songs. This isn’t fucking camp!”

  He sure does have that scowl down pat. Possibly may be the only look he has, since I haven’t seen any other. His brows may also be stuck frowning. And he does make a terrible conversationalist. “Fine. At least tell me why you’re kidnapping me. I can’t sit here in the dark the whole time. Maybe if you tell me, I can prepare. Anticipate the conversations on weather or something.”

  He sighs loudly, scratching his fingers down his stubbled face.

  Stubble I don’t mind on him. Maybe I can just feel it. All women in books love stubble.

  “Some bad guys kidnapped the people I love. To get them back, I have to give them you.”

  Stubble that— “Wait, I’m sorry, what?”

  This time his hands thrust through his dark, messy, slightly overgrown hair. “I fucked with the wrong
person. Heist gone bad. Now they have my family…” He trails off, clearly wanting to say more, but when his eyes meet mine, he seems to change his mind. “And the more you stall with this dumb shit, the more you put them in danger.”

  Oh no, his poor family!

  Why would anyone be so cruel to hurt someone’s family? I want to ask a million questions, but the look in his eyes says not to dare. “Okay. I’ll behave.” I nod until his facial expression that screams, I don’t believe you, fades and now only says, I partially don’t believe you.

  “Good. You start that humming shit again, the gag goes back in. You hear me?”

  “Okedokee Hoke.” I hold in my breath as long as I can. Which is three seconds, until I burst out laughing.

  “Jesus, what now?” he says.

  “Get it? Hoke?” Still staring at me. Boy, does he have that murderous glare down pat.

  “No. I don’t get it.”

  “Hoke Colburn, Miss Daisy’s driver!” I boast, my smile from ear to ear at my funny joke. Thor, on the other hand, doesn’t move a muscle. I gaze into his deep green eyes for any sort of humor, but nothing. How was that not funny? I would have had Henry rolling on the—

  And there it is.

  Barely there, but it happens.

  One side. Just one side of his lip curls into a small smile.

  “For starters, Miss Daisy rode in the back. Maybe you should take a spot back there with Bingo.”

  “His name is Chandler Bing. And I saw what you just did. Your smile works after all.”

  His face goes blank, Mr. Bad guy back in place. “I didn’t smile.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell any of your bad guy friends.”

  Just then, Chandler jumps into the front, his tail wagging as he makes a little spot in my lap. I want to cuddle him, but my hands are still tied behind my back, which is going to be a real problem since Chandler can be really needy when it comes to getting his ears scratched.

  “If you untie me, I promise to behave. I’ll do as you say.”

  He looks at me hard, as if he doesn’t believe me.

  Thankfully, after a loud huff, my hands are free, and I’m scratching away. Thor pulls back onto the road and this time I do my best to behave. It also gives me the time to take in everything he’s told me.

  For starters, I’ve really been kidnapped? But who would want to kidnap me? Why would someone want to kidnap me? Maybe he meant just bring me to someone. An old friend or relative sent for me and it would be like a visit!

  Okay, even someone as introverted and reclusive as myself isn’t that naive.

  I turn to ask, but quickly change my mind.

  Maybe give him a little more time to cool off.

  I think about his poor family. He probably has a wife and kids. I’m ashamed to have mistaken him for a naughty outlaw. Imagining him swooping me off my feet and rubbing his sexy stubble in places, when he already has someone to do all that stuff with. His kids are probably beautiful like his wife, handsome like him. In a grouchy kind of way, of course.

  “You’re mumbling.”

  “Huh?” I twist, pulling my eyes away from the window.

  “You’re mumbling. That’s not being quiet.”

  We stare at one another, until he breaks the connection and brings his eyes back to the road. I’m tempted to ask him what his problem is, but I believe I know the answer. He still carries his rugged expression, but behind his angry eyes, I can sense his worry. He’s worried about the people he loves.

  I gaze down in my lap and see Chandler is now fast asleep. Whispering a small apology, I turn back to the window and think about the people I love.

  Mabel, Henry, Beatrice.

  Momma.

  I wish she were still here. My heartache hasn’t dulled since the day she left me, nor each day that’s passed knowing I’ll never get one of her special hugs or her beautiful smile. Tell her my corny jokes and watch her fall over in her chair laughing.

  If she were still here, I wonder what adventures we would have taken. Or if my dad were still alive, would he love me just as much? I don’t know Thor well, but I imagine he would do anything for his family. I rest my head on the back of the seat, hiding my face as I wipe away the stupid tear that’s fallen.

  Time gets away from me and the sound of Thor’s phone alarm has me shifting in my seat.

  “I need to make a call.”

  I don’t say anything, but nod compliantly. He looks me over and pulls out the black phone and punches in seven digits, bringing it to his ear.

  “Your timing is impeccable, Mr. Crawford.”

  My brows crinkle in confusion. I thought his last name was Iron.

  “I want to speak to Lindsay.”

  “I think you’re forgetting who’s calling the shots here. I am.”

  A loud female shriek blasts through the phone.

  “You motherfucker! You hurt her and I’ll gut you one bloody organ at a time!” Thor howls into the phone. I grab the steering wheel to avoid us from crashing. He swats my hand away and gathers himself. “Please. Don’t fucking hurt her. I’m doing everything you ask.”

  I hear a low chuckle. “Then do as I say. As soon as day breaks and the girl doesn’t show up for work, they’ll get wind she’s been taken. Gonna need you to play it smart. It won’t just be my guys after you if you get caught. Do you understand me?”

  I surely don’t. Whose guys?

  “Loud and clear. Let me speak to Lindsay now,” Thor responds.

  “Consider this a favor. Ten seconds.” The line goes quiet until I hear the sound of a weeping feminine voice.

  “Luca?”

  Luca. I like that name. Luca Crawford.

  “Fuck, Lindsay, are you okay? Is Cala okay?”

  “We’re both fine, but please do as the man says. I’m so scared. Please!” Lindsay begs tearfully.

  Thor’s—or Luca’s—eyes squeeze closed. “I will. Listen. I’m coming for you. I love you both. Don’t be scared. I’m coming—”

  He’s cut off when the deep voice comes back on the line. “The next checkpoint is in Pittsburgh. You have twelve hours until you have to make that call. No funny business. And stay off the radar. Don’t be late or I’ll cut off a finger for every minute you are.” Then the line goes dead.

  “FUCK!” Luca yells and drops the phone, slamming his hands on the steering wheel.

  I jump in my seat, startled at his outburst. The sound of his crying wife has my heart hurting for him. His poor daughter. I reach out and rest my hand on his shoulder. He’s shaking.

  “It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna get your family back. I promise.”

  He turns to me, frustration and doubt clear in his hard stare. His eyes find the road and without removing my hand, I bring my eyes to the window and stare off into the blackness of the night until exhaustion hits me and I fall asleep.

  “Tell me what you want, beautiful.”

  His penetrating stare into my wanting eyes has my insides swirling with need. My belly tightens as his hand skims down my bare thigh, teasing me with his gentle touch. “Don’t be shy. Tell Daddy exactly what you want.” His deep voice seeps into my already sensitive skin, pulsating between my wet thighs. I attempt to squeeze them, but his hand stops me, forcing my legs to remain open. “Tell me now, or I’ll take your silence as invitation to eat this sweet pussy raw.” My entire body spasms at his vulgar threat. Imagining his tongue in my most intimate place. Sucking on me. Licking me. “Francis,” he calls my name and I give in to my temptress needs.

  “Kiss me, Thor,” I plead, anticipating his lips on mine. My first kiss at the hands of an outlaw. His rough stubble grazing against my lips as his tongue parts me and I get a taste of him.

  “Francis.”

  I’m squirming in my chair. I look deep into his eyes, the fire I’ve set in his stare. “Kiss me, Thor. Kiss me now,” I demand and he does as I ask.

  His tongue is warm.

  Licking all over my face.

  This feels
wrong.

  “Francis, wake the fuck up.”

  My eyes flutter open. The fog dissipates, and I realize I’m not in a chair, being held by an angry outlaw, but in fact, curled up in Momma’s Cadillac with Chandler on my lap licking my face. My left cheek is pressed to the headrest as I stare at the empty driver’s seat.

  “Oh my word. Chandler, I was just having a—”

  “Sex dream—Fuck!”

  The voice from behind me scares me right out of my panties, and I throw my head back, hitting what sounds like a face. Nose maybe? I whip around, my cheeks blazing with embarrassment, to Luca holding his face.

  “My goodness, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what? Taking forever to wake up because you’re busy dreaming about hot sex with your kidnapper? Or that you may have just broken my nose?”

  “I was not having a sex dream.”

  “Sweetheart, you were moaning my name and asking me to kiss you,” he growls, looking at me with disgust.

  “I certainly was not.” Tell me I was not doing that. “And who would want to dream and kiss a grouch like yourself? May I also add rude!”

  He brings his large frame into my personal space, leaning down and blocking the now glowing streetlamp behind him. “You’re telling me you weren’t dreaming about me?” he asks, dipping lower into the car. “Begging for Thor.”

  Boy oh boy. What state are we in? It’s hot in these parts.

  “Not a chance.” I huff. “Besides, you’re Luca anyway.”

  He leans in closer, his mouth just inches away from mine. Oh, mother goose, I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s so close, I feel the warmth of his breath on my cheeks. Do it. Don’t do it! Do it. Don’t—

  He leans past me to grab the rope that’s shoved in between the seats. He pulls back and speaks. “Whatever, we’re here. I have just under seven hours to make that call. I need to find a way to con us some stuff and get checked into a hotel so I can shower and sleep for a few hours. You’re to stay here until I get back.” He dangles the rope in front of me, indicating he’s going to tie me up again.

  “I don’t think so, mister.” I grab the rope and toss it outside the open car door.