by Lisa G Riley
“Gosh, you look like a fairy princess!”
Kendra turned to smile at Laila, who was as pretty as a picture in a pink satin dress with crinoline beneath. Laila’s eyes were stretched as big as saucers as she stared at Kendra in wonder. Kendra bent to whisper, “How ‘bout we be princesses together? Would you like that?”
The child giggled and nodded. “Okay.”
“Then it’s a deal, Princess Laila. Now pucker up and give me a big kiss! There, now you have on lipstick too,” she finished and gently wiped her thumb across the girl’s lips to spread it around. She straightened. “Is everyone ready?”
Dressed in a lilac taffeta, tea-length, strapless dress, Mozell looked at the big clock on the wall. “We’ve got time yet.”
“Yes, at least ten minutes,” Tory said as she stepped back into the anteroom.
Kendra looked over at her and felt her heart rate accelerate when Tory gently shook her head. At Kendra’s request, Tory had gone to see if Sloan had arrived yet. Kendra turned away. “Where are you, Sloan?” she mumbled softly.
*
Kyle’s hotel room, 11:48 a.m.
Sloan fought his way through haze and pain, opened his eyes, and closed them again when it proved to be too painful. After a few seconds, he decided to try again. This time he lifted his lids slowly. That was only marginally better. Through the pain swimming in his head, he heard voices. Kyle was saying something about dereliction of duty—and a hospital—and the owner of a smoky feminine voice was talking over him. “I’ve seen enough head injuries to know that you and your brother are fine. It just so happens your head is harder than his, which is no surprise to me.”
He tried to lift his head and let out a loud moan when the pain that had thus far been a throb became a sudden explosion. He closed his eyes again. “Fuck it.”
“Sloan? Can you hear me?”
Sloan opened his eyes again to see Kyle leaning over him and looking worried. “I can hear you just fine,” he got out. “Have you called Kendra?”
*
Anteroom at St. Catharine’s, 11:54 a.m.
Kendra sat in the anteroom alone with her mother and tried not to cry. The wedding was supposed to have begun almost an hour before. Sloan was now almost two hours late.
“Is there something I can do, baby?” Camille asked and reached out to hug her.
Kendra rose and walked to the other side of the room. She didn’t want to be touched.
The door opened, and she looked at Mary and Amy with wide, worried, yet hopeful eyes. The hope died when she saw their faces. “You called our house?”
“Yes, but there was no answer.”
“And no answer on his or Kyle’s cell phones either,” Amy put in. They’d gone outside because they couldn’t get signals for their cell phones in the church.
“Do you think something has happened to them?” Camille whispered to Mary.
“I don’t know. Mozell and Tory are checking with the police and the hospitals.”
“Well, do you think Sloan changed his mind again? I mean, after the message he left on her cell phone about questioning whatever he was questioning, maybe we should take that as a sign that he’s not coming…”
Kendra ignored the whispering around her and concentrated on Sloan and what she knew about him. He loved her; she knew he did. Something must have happened to him. That had to be it. Even though she’d always thought she’d somehow know if he were badly hurt, there was no other explanation for his absence. There just couldn’t be. “He’s not like Daddy,” she whispered miserably and tried to make herself believe it.
*
Kyle’s hotel room, 11:49 a.m.
Kyle winced at Sloan’s question. “Shit, Sloan. I haven’t had a chance to. I just woke up about ten minutes ago, and since then I’ve been trying to get things straightened out with this illustrious representative of the fucking FB of I here.”
“Hello, Mr. Johnson. I’m Special Agent Jackson.” The smoky voice was definitely irritated, and Sloan thought she was probably speaking through clenched teeth.
He turned his head to see a statuesque woman with dark skin and gray eyes looking at him. “Did you call Kendra?” he asked her. When she raised her brow in surprise, he said, “I assume since you’re the FBI and you want my brother’s help, you’ve been keeping up with his activities, so you know I’m getting married.”
“Can you sit up?” Kyle asked him.
Gingerly Sloan lifted his head again and, with the help of Kyle and the agent, was able to sit up. For the first time he noticed that two men were standing by the door, and he assumed they were other agents. He touched a hand to the back of his head and felt the lump.
“Bobo also had a gun,” Kyle explained, “and when you charged at Cliff, he hit you with the butt of it. Cliff got me. I wish I’d known what you were planning to do; then I could have been more effective.”
Sloan ignored that. “I need a phone and some painkillers.”
He was handed a glass of water and two pills by Special Agent Jackson. “Two should do it; they’re eight hundred milligrams each.”
Sloan thanked her, ignoring a snide comment Kyle made about the pills and her equally nasty response. He tossed the pills into his mouth and chased them with water.
“We’ll need a statement from you, Mr. Johnson,” Special Agent Jackson said.
“And I need a phone,” Sloan said in reply. “Where are the apes and the trained monkey?”
“In a cage, courtesy of local law enforcement. We called them when we got to town after following them here.”
Kyle muttered something beginning with “Action Jackson,” causing the agent to turn her whiplash tongue on him again.
“Jesus, will you two just find a bed and screw until you’ve gotten it out of your systems?” Into the immediate shocked silence Sloan said, “I need a goddamn phone.”
Special Agent Jackson scowled and looked at the men at the door, one of whom walked over and handed her a cell phone. “I still need your statement,” she said to Sloan.
Sloan held out a hand. “I still need a phone.” Refusing to back down, he stared her in the eye. She didn’t blink, and when she finally sighed and gave in, he could tell it was something she was not used to doing. He dialed Kendra’s number. It went straight to voice mail. “Kendra, baby. I’m on my way. Something happened, but I’m all right. I’ll be right there.”
“Try Mom,” Kyle suggested.
Sloan dialed his mother’s telephone number as he rose. “There’s no answer,” he said and headed for the door.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Agent Jackson demanded.
“To my wedding.” Sloan looked at the two men who blocked the door. “Make them move, Agent Jackson,” he said without turning around. “Or you won’t ever get a statement from me, and I’ll make your life a living hell.” She must have signaled, because the men stepped away from the door. “I’m keeping the phone,” Sloan said as he opened the door. “Kyle, come on!”
“Don’t bother,” Kyle said when Agent Jackson tried to block his path. “You won’t get one lick of help from me if you delay me one minute longer.” He smiled when she reluctantly stepped aside. “See you in Tahoe, Agent,” he taunted on his way out.
They rushed through the lobby and hailed a taxi. Sloan gave the driver the address of the church and continued to dial telephone numbers—all to no avail. He’d tried his mother, Amy, and his dad. He’d even tried a couple of his cousins. He dialed his mother again.
“Hey! Did you try Connor?” Kyle asked, but Sloan motioned for him to be quiet.
“Mom? Hi—yes, I’m all right… Stop yelling, Mom. Yes, I know she’s been waiting… I’m on my way… No, I didn’t run out on her… Of course I know she’s upset… Mom, will you please stop yelling at me and put Kendra on the phone?”
Sloan listened for only a few seconds more before he closed the phone without saying good-bye.
“What is it?” Kyle asked.
“Sh
e left. Kendra is gone.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Anteroom at St. Catharine’s, 11:55 a.m.
Kendra felt drained and weepy, but she didn’t cry. “You’re both sure?” she asked Mozell and Tory and closed her eyes when they both nodded.
“There haven’t been any accidents reported,” Mozell said. “We’ve checked the hospitals, and there’s been nothing. In fact, according to the police, it’s been remarkably quiet.”
Amy sighed. “Honey, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think he’s coming.”
Kendra saw the anger and sadness in her eyes and had to look away, only to catch Mrs. Johnson gazing at her with pity. She closed her eyes to block it all out. “Well, I gue…I guess his question was answered after all. Will you all please just go away?” she asked in a suffocated voice. “I need some time alone.”
“All right, honey,” Camille said gently. “But first we have to say something to the guests who are still here. I’m so sorry, baby. I really am, and I don’t know what happened to Sloan. I’ll make an announcement this time.” She had already done so once, as had Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
Kendra looked back at Mrs. Johnson and Amy. They were his family after all. “What do you think?”
“I think you should let Camille make the announcement,” Mrs. Johnson said with heavy disappointment. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You don’t know how much.”
“All right, then,” Kendra tried to say resolutely, but her voice was shaking too much and was so soft and low that she sounded exactly how she felt: desolate. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving right now. Mom, will you please make my apologies?” She paused before she left. “Tell them to please head over to South Shore for the reception.”
Amy, Mrs. Johnson, Tory, and Mozell hurried after her as she opened the side door in hopes of sneaking out before anyone saw her. She knew it was cowardly, but she simply couldn’t face anyone.
“Wait, dear, please.” Mrs. Johnson grabbed her arm, and Kendra froze, not wanting to turn around. “Where will you go?”
Mr. Johnson, Connor, and Sam walked down the narrow hall outside the office. “No word yet?” Mr. Johnson asked.
Keeping her back turned, Kendra made herself stand there, when all she wanted to do was run—run and hide. She wished she could just as easily outrun her thoughts.
“No. Camille is going to make an announcement and our apologies. Kendra,” Mrs. Johnson said hesitantly. “Sweetheart. Where will you go?”
“I’ll take her to Camille’s,” Tory said when Kendra tensed and didn’t answer. “She’ll be fine.”
*
“Damn, Sloan, I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “This is all my fault. If those losers hadn’t followed me here—”
“Don’t,” Sloan said quietly with his eyes still focused ahead. “It’s not your fault; it’s theirs, but bigger than that, Kendra didn’t wait for me.” He looked at his watch. “It hasn’t even been an hour yet, and she’s already gone.”
Kyle winced at the sound of Sloan’s voice. It was soft and quiet: a sure sign that he was furious. “Well, actually, Sloan, it’s been almost two hours since you were supposed to be there.”
“It doesn’t matter. She should know me better by now,” he said in the same tone. He leaned forward. “Take a right at the next light, driver. Forget the other address.”
“We’re going to your place, right?”
Sloan rattled off his address to the driver. “She’s gone home to pack,” he said with certainty as he sat back with a scowl on his face. “She’s leaving me.”
Still concerned, Kyle said, “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret, Sloan.”
Sloan ignored him.
“Kendra, honey…” Mozell’s voice was hesitant and concerned as she watched Kendra haphazardly throw clothes into the suitcase she had opened on Sloan’s and her bed. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She walked farther into the room. “I mean, don’t you want to give him a chance to explain?”
“Yeah, Ken,” Tory said. “There’s got to be an explanation.”
Kendra made herself ignore their words and the emotions churning inside of her. If she didn’t, she’d never be able to do what was needed. He left me, he left me, he left me. The words went through her head like a taunting dirge. She shut the suitcase and locked it, refusing to meet her friends’ eyes as she moved it to the floor. She hurried over to the closet to grab another one. “What is there to explain, Tory? Yes, I’m sure I want to do this,” she said carefully and concisely, keeping all emotion out of her voice. “Now, are you going to help me or not?” She finally looked at them.
“Don’t, guys,” she whispered painfully and closed her eyes against the sympathy in the other women’s eyes. “I can’t do this if you’re going to look at me like that. Please,” she said, and her voice was desperate. “Please, just help me.” She sank onto the bed tiredly.
“What do you want us to do?” Tory asked.
Kendra rose from the bed and grabbed jeans and a shirt. “I’m going to get out of this dress, and while I’m doing that, you guys could empty the clothes out of that dresser over there and put them into the suitcase.” She pointed it out and rushed into the bathroom.
Kendra closed the door behind herself and leaned on it with her eyes closed. He left me, he left me, he left me. She couldn’t believe it had actually happened. All of her worst fears had come true, and Sloan had jilted her on their wedding day. “Don’t think, Kendra, just do.” Taking deep breaths, she pushed away from the door and began to undress. The shoes came first and then the garter belt and stockings.
Straightening, she reached over her shoulder for the first hook of at least twenty on the gown, and slipped it through its mooring. The second one came undone just as easily. She went for the third one and could barely reach it. “Oh, come on!” she demanded despairingly and sighed when she was able to get her fingers around it.
In an effort to make the process easier, she took hold of the scalloped top of the dress and tried to swish it around her body so that the hooks were in the front, but couldn’t budge it. Gritting her teeth, she reached around her torso and tried to complete the task that way. She started from the bottom and made her way to the top, unhooking as she went along. Her fingers grasped the bottom of a hook but continued to slip every time she tried to slip it through.
He left me, he left me, he left me.
Sweating and gritting her teeth, she swore under her breath. “Damn it!” It was just too much, and she felt tears prick her eyes. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it !” The words became a litany that grew louder until she was screaming them and pulling at the sides of the dress, determined now to rip it off if she had to.
She heard the door open and dropped her head in defeat, letting the tears that had wanted to fall all day finally have their way. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she stood there, crying without a sound.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Tory said softly. “Let us help you.”
Still silent, Kendra buried her face in her hands.
“It’s all right, honey,” Mozell soothed as she took her in her arms. “Just let it out. It’s all right.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Kendra broke. She held on tightly to Mozell and sobbed. “He left me,” she cried when she felt Tory’s arms come around her from the back. “He left me.”
Mozell and Tory walked Kendra back into the bedroom and sat with her on the bed, then held her until she stopped crying.
Kendra lifted her head. “Thanks,” she said to Tory, who’d handed her a cold washcloth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mozell asked.
“No. There’s nothing to talk about. I just need to finish and get out of here.”
“But, honey, what if he comes here—”
“He won’t,” Kendra cut Tory off. “At least not right away. He left me.”
“But you don’t know that,” Mozell protested. “Don’t you want to hear what he has to say?”
“No. He left me. What else i
s there?” Kendra rose from the bed. “Will one of you finish undoing these hooks for me? They’re stuck.” She gave them her back and stood quietly while Mozell finished unhooking the dress. She offered a soft thanks when the job was completed, and she walked back into the bathroom.
A short while later she came out with the dress in her hand. Tossing it onto the bed, she considered throwing it away but decided to just leave it in the apartment. “Thanks for packing the rest of my stuff for me,” she said as she noticed the suitcases. Altogether there were three and her makeup clutch. After putting on sneakers and socks, she bent to grab one of the suitcases. Her brow quirked in question when she couldn’t lift it.
“I told you not to put all of the shoes in one suitcase,” Tory muttered to Mozell.
“I was in a hurry. I’ll carry the damned thing.”
“Thanks. I’ll just get my car keys from the kitchen, and we’ll be on our way,” Kendra told them and grabbed one of her everyday purses, which still held her checkbook and some credit cards. She put the strap over her shoulder and picked up her makeup clutch. “You still have my wedding purse, don’t you, Tory?” Kendra asked. It held her driver’s license, passport, emergency cash, and house keys. She’d stopped and gotten their extra keys from her neighbor Ms. Weingarten.
“It’s in the trunk of Mozell’s car,” Tory confirmed.
“All right, then. I’m ready.” Kendra picked up a suitcase.
“But, Kendra, you can’t drive,” Mozell protested as she picked up the shoe suitcase and followed her down the hall and into the kitchen. “You’re too upset.”
“Fine,” Kendra said. She snatched her car keys off the hook, tossed them to Tory. “Tory will drive, and you’ll follow us.”
Suitcases in hand, the three women walked to the door.
“Where are we going, Kendra?” Tory asked.
Sloan scowled at Kendra and her friends and the suitcases, furious that he had been right. She was leaving him. His gaze went back to her face. She looked surprised. Didn’t think I would come home, did you? His scowl deepened when he saw that her eyes were red and swollen like she’d been crying. This was just more proof to him that she had no faith in him. Furious, he was tempted to turn and walk back the way he came. The only thing that kept him there was the knowledge that he had been having second thoughts. “Did you ever trust me, Kendra?” he asked her.