by Nella Tyler
“The first is that you, Carson, and Mrs. Crutcher can return to the apartment building and will clean up the mess.
“In that case, I’m going to hire a guard who is going to stand outside your apartment door around-the-clock. After all, Scott paid rent and still has a legal right to return there. In addition to the guard, you’re going to find me in the other half of your bed because I’m moving in. No, you didn’t invite me — I invited myself.”
Gilda’s thinking was clouded by the erotic petting, so she murmured, “And, the other option?
Cole’s long arms left her breasts, moving downward to her waistband. He hunched forward slightly, looping his fingers inside the fabric and pushing her pants and panties down to her ankles. With one foot, he pushed them off her, leaving her naked with the exception of the open shirt. He pushed her legs apart and while one hand parted her womanhood, the fingers from his other began to gently stroke and shallowly penetrate her. She began a throaty purr, the sweet ache of longing flooding through her pelvis.
His head leaned forward and she felt his lips on her earlobe, blowing gently as his tongue traveled the inside confines of her ear. His fingers worked their magic, and her nipples stood out hard and needy.
“I was thinking that, maybe, you would become my wife.”
Caught up in the sensations he worked upon her, she barely recognized the import of his words. As they sank in, her head jerked up and she looked over her shoulder at him. “What?”
Cole moved his hands to her waist, lifting her and twisting her so that she lay back upon him, chest to chest. He lifted her chin and stared into her deep-brown eyes. “I just asked you to marry me, sweetheart.”
“What?” she repeated, her eyes widening in amazement. “Where did this come from?”
“Now, don’t get riled up. This has nothing to do with Scott or my worrying about the two of you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to tell you that I have fallen in love with you. I truly love you. Not only that, Carson feels like family, and even Mrs. Crutcher seems to fit in.
“Believe me when I say there’s no one as shocked as I am. At this point in my life, I pictured myself in a uniform on the streets, knocking off the bad guys. Instead, here I am with a woman I can’t live without and her luscious body is lying naked atop me. I can’t say I’m complaining, mind you,” he grinned.
She looked into his green eyes, trying to find some clue that he was jesting. There was nothing there to be found. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t say it before because of Carson.”
He nodded. “I got that. Back to the point. Will you marry me?”
Gilda nodded, a smile beginning to burst across her face as she threw her arms upward to grasp his neck. She pulled herself up and placed her lips tenderly against his. “Yes, Cole Stephens, I will,” she replied as she broke the kiss.
He moved one hand to the back of her neck, pushing her head tightly against his chest as he whispered over the top of her smooth head, “Thank God.”
With those words, in one smooth motion, he rose to his feet, clutching her against himself. He carried her to the bedroom and placed upon the bed as though she were delicate china.
He stood there momentarily, looking down over her naked form, realizing what a gift he had just received. His lounging pajamas and T-shirt hit the floor as he lowered himself over, parted her legs, and entered her.
In one smooth, deep thrust, he claimed his prize. She gasped at the suddenness of the welcomed invasion and wrapped her legs around his back to cling to him. He tried to pull out of her, but she would not let go. This was a joining that was not to be separated — as they would be forever.
Cole needed no further urging, but filled her with his seed. Gilda willingly accepted him, knowing that no matter what lay ahead for her and for Carson, she would not go through it alone. She had found the man who would always hold her hand, who would always have her back, and who would always love her.
Chapter 27
Cole graduated at the top of his training class that following week. Gilda only had eyes for him. He stood there tall, broad shouldered, and despite the solemnity of the occasion, there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She recognized his happiness and loved the fact that she was part of it.
Carson stood next to her, holding her hand, and Mrs. Crutcher to Carson’s right. They formed a sort of ad hoc family, but only until it could be made legal.
After the ceremony, the four of them went to lunch at the Biltmore. Carson’s eyes were huge as he looked around at the selections of desserts on the cart and the elegance of the diners.
Cole tapped his water glass with a spoon and cleared his throat. He reached for Gilda’s hand as he said, “We have a little announcement to make. I have asked Gilda to become my wife, and she has accepted. Carson, I am hoping that you will allow me to someday become your dad.”
Gilda beamed as Mrs. Crutcher clapped her hands in delight. Carson nodded. “Can we do it on the way home?” he asked. Everyone laughed.
“Well, it might take a little longer than that,” Cole told him. “But I would like to marry your mother first, and then will go asked the judge to let me become your dad. How about that?”
“How about my other dad?” Carson asked, casting a shadow across the jubilance. Gilda frowned. She knew that was coming, but just didn’t know when to expect it.
“The difference is, darling, Cole wants to be here as your dad. He wants to spend time with you and teach you how to do things that men do together. That other man never wanted to spend time doing those things. What if we forget about him? Can we do that?”
Carson shrugged his tiny shoulders. “I guess so. He kind of scared me, anyway.”
Gilda reached out and pulled her son close to her, hugging him. “Don’t worry, darling. That man is going away, and you don’t ever have to see him again.”
After the luncheon, they went back to their apartments and while Mrs. Crutcher and Carson took a nap, Cole made long, sweet love to his fiancée. It was the beginning of a new life for all of them.
Gilda knew that none of it would have been possible without Cole. She said a tiny thank you prayer to God for having brought Cole into her life.
Since Gilda had essentially no family except her mother, they decided to have a quiet wedding before the justice of the peace. Mrs. Crutcher was her matron of honor, and Carson served as Cole’s best man. Gilda wore a pale, full-length suit; its pearl-studded jacket opened deeply into a V and her strawberry-blonde hair piled high atop her head, crowned by a small pillbox hat and veil.
Gilda had asked for their wedding to be small and very simple; Cole was only too happy to oblige her. The idea of assembling to families, especially when none of the guests were particularly desired, was a nightmare neither one of them wanted to take on.
Since Cole was not due vacation time for a while, they decided to honeymoon just for the weekend at a bed-and-breakfast in upstate New York. Spring had found its way into the landscape and the picturesque Victorian with tulips lining the sidewalk to the front door looked like something out of a fairytale.
True to tradition, Cole carried his wife across the threshold, whereupon the innkeeper handed them their room key and they disappeared upstairs for the remainder of the weekend. Trays of food were delivered and later retrieved as the happy couple never left their bed.
Cole took time to send a handwritten wedding announcement to his father, mother, and Gilda’s mother. It was brief and to the point. They were anxious to get on with their life.
At Carson’s continued urging, Cole called an attorney friend and began the process of trying to adopt the boy. He knew this wouldn’t go easily and he suspected that Scott would not let go of the only nugget of gold in his life. Cole was prepared to give Scott whatever he wanted, as long as he would leave them alone. He never could’ve predicted the price that was asked, though.
Chapter 28
Cole and Gilda returned to their apartm
ent very late that Sunday night on the lightning wings of a storm that had rolled in from the Atlantic. A wall of Canadian air made one last attempt to flow south, but ran into the warmer current of the ocean; the result was a fireworks display of nature the eclipsed the neon and digital signboards below on the city streets. Those seeking the nightlife ran with newspapers over their carefully coiffed hair, hugging the building facades to escape the downpour.
Cole pulled up to the building and handed the keys to the doorman as he grabbed luggage from the trunk and they took the elevator upstairs. Dropping their luggage off, they went down the tenth floor to say hello to Carson and let Mrs. Crutcher know they had returned.
They found the apartment dark and Gilda hesitated to awaken them, but she wanted to check on Carson. She held her finger to her lips to hush Cole and went to Carson’s door and pushed it open. He saw a light flash on and heard Gilda’s voice.
“He’s not here,” she said aloud and came back into the living room. “He must have bunked in with Mrs. Crutcher; he’s scared of storms.” She continued on to Mrs. Crutcher’s room and tapped, but no one answer. Thunder slammed against the walls as she turned the knob and peeked inside. “Cole?” Gilda called in alarm.
He quickly responded and found her standing in the doorway, the light on and the bed untouched. “They’re not here! Where could they be?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume as the words spilled from her.
“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
Gilda ran for the entry and flipped on all the lights in the apartment. “Are there emergency stairs?” she called to Cole, the hysteria in her voice fueling an atmosphere of panic. He joined her and pulled her with him to the laundry room where a door was barely visible behind the shelving. “Here. It’s for emergencies only. It’s kept locked and it’s private; only the key for this apartment can open it from any level.”
“Cole?” Gilda’s dread was apparent. “Where are they?”
He ran to the intercom with the lobby and punched a key. “Yes, sir?” came the doorman’s voice.
“Mrs. Crutcher and Carson, on the tenth floor. Have you seen them?” he barked in an authoritative voice.
“Yes, sir. They left about seven o’clock. Got into a taxi and left before the storm hit.”
“Did they tell you where they were going? Did you call the cab for them?”
“No, sir. The little boy seemed upset, and she was pulling him by the arm. She didn’t say anything to me, just hurried out the door and jumped into the cab. She must have called it herself.”
Cole released the intercom button and muttered beneath his breath. Mrs. Crutcher’s cooking days were about to come to an end. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Gilda’s arm and punching the elevator button. “We’ll find them.”
“Cole!”
He turned and saw Gilda holding a sheet of note paper. “This was on the counter,” she whispered to him, holding it out.
Happy honeymoon! Took the kid out to celebrate.
Join us if you can catch up.
Her face was white. “Is that Scott’s handwriting?” Cole demanded.
She nodded mutely, and Cole barely caught her as her knees gave way. He carried her to the couch and whipped out his phone to call into the station. “Stay there and don’t try to get up. I’ve got this,” he told her and strode down the hallway into Mrs. Crutcher’s bedroom. He began shouting her name and flipping on lights as he walked.
Gilda’s heart was pounding with fear and she closed her eyes, listening to Cole as he moved throughout the apartment. She heard him in the area of the guest room and then froze as she heard him order an ambulance.
“No!” she screamed, flying off the sofa in his direction. Cole caught her in the hallway, lifting her up so she couldn’t run.
“Listen to me!” he ordered in a voice she hadn’t heard before. “Mrs. Crutcher was in the guest room closet. She’s alive, but is breathing shallow. There is no sign of Carson.
“I’ve called an ambulance for her, and the department is sending over detectives; they’re en route. Now, get hold of yourself and go into the living room. You need to get out of the way and let them help her.”
Cole hurriedly carried Gilda into the living room and deposited her in a side chair before he ran to the intercom and ordered the doorman to let the authorities up. “I want your ass up here with them as soon as they get here!” he added.
Gilda sat perfectly still, shock freezing her expression. Cole had to make a decision and decided that Mrs. Crutcher was more critical and that Gilda was momentarily safe, if experiencing trauma.
The elevator began dinging as a stream of authorities emerged to fill the room. Cole took charge, directing the medics to the bedroom first and then giving the detectives the note, handling it with kitchen tongs.
Gilda recognized there were people around her, but she was in her head. In her mind, she saw pictures of Carson when he was first born, handed to her to lay across her breast. She could feel the downy skin of his cheek and the hint of strawberry blond on his newly emerged head. She could hear his cry and felt his mouth as he sought her nipple and the milk he craved. She remembered showing her mama how much he’d grown and the look on his face as he played with package after package of toys that Cole had ordered for him.
Then, without warning, came the dark images.
Scott as he stood over her, his belt in hand, beating her pregnant stomach with the belt buckle. Scott throwing a chair through the front room window when he’d returned drunk and she had locked him out. Scott’s face as he manically grinned, telling her she’d never escape him; he would always find her and always know the best way to hurt her.
She screamed — not once, but over and over — falling from the chair to the floor and rolling into a fetal ball.
Arms scooped her up, and she felt herself making the short rise to their apartment. Cole carried her into the bedroom and put her beneath the covers, returning from the bathroom with a wet cloth. His phone was in his hand; she heard him call Doctor Keeler by name. Gilda couldn’t seem to stop shaking; every fiber of her body was in absolute terror. It seemed like only seconds later when she felt a pinch in her hip and then the calming arms of sleep welcomed her to its breast.
Chapter 29
An unfamiliar sound pierced Gilda’s slumber. Her bed vibrated, and she felt oddly suspended. She opened her eyes slowly as the memories returned, and she sat bolt upright.
Cole was immediately at her side, his hands grasping her arms and forcing her to lie back again. “Gilda, it’s okay. It’s Cole. You have to relax. You’re safe. I’m here. Wake up slowly, and then we’ll talk.”
“Carson!” she cried out weakly.
“Shhhh… He’s fine, just fine. I’m sure of it. Now, lie there and wake up slowly. I’m getting you some tea.”
Cole motioned to someone nearby. “Bring her a cup of strong tea and a splash of brandy in it,” he ordered and shortly it was in his hands. “Here,” he said to Gilda. “Take a few sips of this. I’m right here, baby,” he told her in a tender voice.
She did as he asked and then opened her eyes and said simply, “Tell me.”
Cole took her hand in his and leaned in close, brushing the hair from her forehead as he spoke. “You’ve been out for a while, sweetheart. Doc Keeler had to give you some strong stuff to put you out. Just lie there and listen.”
He pushed the cup back toward her mouth and she obediently took another sip. She knew instinctively that it was the fastest way to get him to talk.
“You’re on my jet and we’re headed for Cincinnati, and then on to Brownsboro.”
“Carson?”
“We have traced Scott’s movements and have a witness confirmation that a man answering to his description was seen at the bus depot with a young child.”
“I don’t understand,” she tried again.
“Shhhh… now listen to me. Here’s what we’ve pieced together.
“Mrs. Crutcher
is fine. Scott must have staked out the apartment building until the regular doorman went on lunch break. The substitute wasn’t aware of all that was going on, and Scott must have come in while he was on duty and pretended to have a delivery for Mrs. Crutcher. The doorman let him go up at her approval.
“When he got up there, he gagged her and gave her something to knock her out, then tied her up and threw her in the guest room closet.
“He grabbed Carson, dressed in a wig and her clothes, then went back down and left before the regular doorman got a good look at him. Scott had it well timed.
“From all appearances, Carson is just fine, he was just scared because he knew he wasn’t supposed to leave with his father.
“We’ve tracked him to the bus depot. The judge let Scott off with restitution and probation because, quite frankly, he hadn’t hurt anyone.
“He immediately set about getting his hands on Carson, and we innocently provided the opportunity. It played right into his hands. He purchased two tickets for Brownsboro, and I’ve got the authorities on alert. They’re watching him and know which bus he’s on. They’re waiting for us to meet them down there, and they’ll pick him up at the Brownsboro station. We’ll beat him there. This is easiest on Carson.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, they’re being watched. We put a detective on the bus with them at one of the stops, and he’s keeping an eye on Carson. We’re trying to keep this low trauma.”
“Why didn’t you already grab him?”
“I knew you were going to ask that. I hope you trust me enough to understand that I gave the word that we should let him get all the way to Brownsboro.
“Number one, he goes further, which means we can hit him with kidnapping and transporting a minor over more state lines — there’s no way he’ll ever get out of jail again.
“Secondly, by arriving in Brownsboro, we can show intent to permanently keep Carson, which just makes the State’s case against him that much stronger. Then, there’s the idea that Carson will find you waiting for him when he gets off the bus, which will minimize the trauma.”