by J. L. Drake
He pauses a moment while I break out in a sweat. That was over two years ago!
“I was there having dinner with a client, and your laugh pulled my attention away. You scribbled something on one of those paper wishing lanterns and kissed the side of it before you pushed it into the water and watched as it floated away.”
A tear slips down my cheek. That was such an intimate moment between my mother and me, and now it has been tainted by his story.
“I followed you all the way back to your hotel, and I paid a staff member off and gained all your personal information.”
I jam my hands between my knees to stop the shaking.
“I watched for a year, and just when I went to make my move, you vanished.” He pushes to his feet, and I press my back into the cold wall. “Again, Savannah, everyone has a price. So here we are, right where we should be. You can either run your mouth and fight me or understand that this day was coming whether you wanted it or not.” He starts to leave but stops. “Your choice.”
I can hear his footsteps as he heavily descends the steps. I lose all self-control, tucking myself into a ball, and pour my pain out through my tears.
I. Am. Done.
Cole
Cole shimmies himself to the edge of the roof, raising the binoculars and trying to get a visual on his target. The Red Door market is busy, so it’s perfect for his men to blend in with the rest of the locals. Frank’s Eagle Eye team of four is on the ground, while Blackstone is established on the rooftops. John and Paul have the entrance. Keith and Daniel have the exit, and Cole and Mark have the center.
He slides a fresh piece of cinnamon gum in his mouth as he scans the crowds. It isn’t easy looking for someone they’ve never met before. Mike worked his magic with his contacts, and they finally came up with a name, Tim Powers. His father is heavily involved with the Cartel. Of course. There was even some talk that Tim killed his own wife after his son was born. Nice…not exactly the boy next door type. Cole glances down at the picture, studying Tim’s tattoos. Most of them represent prison gangs. He has an angel on his neck and three sixes along his collarbone.
“Blackbird One to Raven One,” his father’s voice cracks over the radio.
“Go ahead, Blackbird.” Cole raises his binoculars and scans the crowd.
“I have a visual on our subject entering from the west gate and heading toward you. Cream shirt, black hat, black pants.”
“Copy that, Blackbird.”
“Eagle Eye Two to Raven One. I also confirm visual on our subject. He’s heading my way,” one of Frank’s team members adds to the radio waves.
Cole clicks his radio. “Copy that, stay in position. We follow him from here.” After everyone confirms their visual on the target, they hold tight and watch his every movement, studying his mannerisms and surveying the crowd to see if he’s alone.
They soon discover Tim travels in a group of four. They each carry two weapons in plain sight in the waist of their pants. Definitely not professionals, all smoking like chimneys, and one even polished off several beers and is now showing signs of being tired. Two of the four men look to be brothers and are more interested in playing on their phones than anything else. After three long hours of watching them, something finally seems to be happening. Tim’s back is to Cole, and he seems to be angry.
“Raven Two, are you getting this?” Cole asks Mark.
“Affirmative, the drunk is angry, saying the girl set them up, and it’s a waste having her handcuffed to a wall when she should be spread out…” Mark’s voice trails off for a moment, making Cole blink back the idea of popping a bullet into the fucker’s skull. Where the hell is she handcuffed? “Subject is yelling back, saying to go get the car.”
“Be ready to move. Fox One and Two, let’s go.” He orders Paul and John down to the SUV so they can be ready when the time comes.
Rushing to get to the car before the men get there, Daniel signals at Cole to cover him as he drops to the ground and slips a tiny tracking device onto the 1993 Honda Civic that Tim arrived in. Moments later, they’re following the low-riding car down a busy street. Mark is in the back seat, tracking the car to make sure they have a good signal in case they lose them.
They settle into what becomes a long drive. An older couple who seems to be on a Sunday drive, as well as two other cars, are between them and the Honda, so it’s an easy job to tail them without being obvious. Finally, after about two hours, the Honda pulls into a small driveway of a rundown home.
“Mijo!” An elderly lady comes hurrying out, kissing one of the brothers on the cheek and slapping the other upside his head.
John parks far enough away so they won’t be detected, and they quickly set up their equipment in order to hear exactly what’s being said.
“Tim, what’s Denton’s new girlfriend like?” a younger woman asks from inside the kitchen. Cole hands his father a pair of earphones as he shifts his into a better position.
“Why you want to know, Gigi?” Tim laughs. “He’s not interested in you.”
“Screw off,” she hisses. “I just want to know if she’s a gringa like you.”
The young girl shouts as someone smacks her.
“Sí, she’s a gringa. Pretty little thing. Denton fought hard to get this one, but she’s already in the attic. She has a mouth on her.” He laughs again. “She called him a monster and said to go fuck himself.” They all laugh.
The old lady makes a tisking sound as she clanks some dishes. Cole and his men flinch at how loud it is over the earphones.
“Ha! You can laugh, but I know I can give Denton what he wants. Why would he want a gringa? I can see myself in that grand house, just like the one from Skeleton Key. I would be wearing pretty clothes and…”
The men cut her off, laughing and teasing the woman, saying she should go there and kill the girl so Denton could see that she is the one he should be with.
Cole looks at Mark, who is the movie buff, waiting to see if he knows what the girl meant by the house from Skeleton Key. Mark clicks away on the laptop then turns it around to show him.
A Louisiana style home? Here in TJ? That’s different and should be easy to find. Mark nods and gets to work, and Cole mentally kicks himself as he remembers Savannah mentioning it looked like that.
In the house, a chair scrapes the floor as the girl asks, “So, did the GI Joe crew show up?”
Someone snickers something Cole can’t make out, then a cough. “No one showed. I think the girl was fucking with me, seeing if she could trust me. Too bad for her.” He snorted. “She’ll get hers. Denton will take his time breaking her and will enjoy himself the whole time. He’s a sick fucker.”
Mark makes a face at Cole, knowing he isn’t the only one itching to get a moment alone with this guy.
As night rolls around, Cole and Mark take the first shift, and the rest pass out in a matter of minutes. One thing about being in the Army, you can fall asleep anywhere, and when you’re told to sleep, you don’t think twice. You find a spot, and you’re out. Mark trades places with John later in case Tim decides to leave in the middle of the night.
They’re silent for a few hours, Cole’s mind spinning with thoughts of Savi. Wondering if she’s hurt, if she’s wondering where he is, wondering what she ever did to deserve this life.
“I didn’t think we’d be back here with Savi again,” Mark says quietly as he takes a bite of his power bar. “She’ll forgive you, Cole.” He turns to look at him. “Once you explain that photo with Rodrigo, she’ll understand and forgive you.”
Cole shakes his head, knowing how bad that picture looks, but it had to be done.
“She loves you,” Mark shrugs, “so don’t worry.”
Cole rests his head back against his seat, staring up at the sky full of stars.
“You’re a lucky man,” Mark says, settling into the seat. “People dream of having a woman look at them the way she does at you. Maybe it’s why this is happening?”
Cole shoots him a co
nfused look.
“Maybe someone is testing your fate?”
“She’s been through enough.” Cole rubs the aching spot between his eyes. “But if there is someone up there calling the shots, I’d love to be alone with them for a few minutes.” His grip on his gun tightens. “No one deserves what Savi’s been through.”
“I’m not saying she deserves any of it, I’m just saying we weren’t meant to find a mate. We gave up that right when we signed on for Shadows. I think you hit a snag in our path of life, and this needs to happen in order for you guys to be able to work it out.”
Cole shakes his head, annoyed that Mark could be right.
“Perhaps, but it’s still fucked up.”
“Very.” His best friend squeezes his arm before he shuts his eyes. He hopes to hell Tim isn’t one for sleeping in, because come seven a.m., they are raiding the motherfucking house.
Savannah
I move my head side to side, tuning in and out of someone speaking.
“Do you think it was wise to mention Roth to her?” Tim’s voice seems far away.
A ticking sound makes my stomach turn. I know he’s here; his damn boots give him away.
“Are you questioning my motives?” His voice makes my blood freeze in place. “She needs to know that her life is over, that she can be reborn again with me. I never gave his name, never said how close he’s getting to—”
I can’t hold on. I feel myself slipping back into a place that makes me feel no pain, only love.
Three hours later, I am in agony. I cry out as the American slaps me and then punches me in the stomach for the second time. My mouth is getting me in trouble again. I know it would be better for me if I kept quiet, but I’d rather make him angry and be hit than be forced to sleep with this man.
“You will bend to my ways, Savannah,” he barks down at me as his stupid cobra boots tap along the wooden floor. For the last hour, he has been questioning me, trying to gain some information on where Tim went. He had heard from one of the girls that Tim had spent some time in my room when I arrived. I wasn’t about to out the one person who may be helping me.
“Did you sleep with him, Savannah? I should have known you were a little slut. You probably spread your legs for the whole damn Army.”
I smirk at him, thinking that if he suspects I slept with his muscle that maybe he won’t touch me.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.” I slowly shake my head, feeling lightheaded with pain. “I think it’s hysterical. You wanted me so badly that you hunted me down for so long, and five minutes with Tim, and he’s got me against the wall doing the one thing you’ve been fantasizing about for all that time?” Well, that was it. I found The American’s weak spot. His eyes widen as red-hot anger flickers across them. I see him lose all sense of control. Oh, shit.
I curl up in a ball, my knees protecting my stomach and my arms covering my head, and hold on. This beating takes me to the edge, and I know it could be the end. I force my thoughts to turn inward, ignoring the punishment my body is taking.
I’m twelve, sitting on my bed and clipping pictures from a magazine. My mother comes into my room holding two cups of lemonade. She’s so weak she can barely hold their weight, so I hop up and take them from her, then clear a spot on my bed for her to sit. She leans over to see what I’m doing. I return to gluing the pictures on the Bristol board, telling her it’s my art project for family studies. We have to show what our perfect apartment would look like.
“I love the colors.” She smiles, pointing at the red couch and matching red appliances. I try not to stare at her for too long. She gets uncomfortable with how much weight she has lost. She has commented on her own reflection and how old she looks. She has taken to wearing silk scarves around her neck in pretty colors. I think she still looks beautiful, even when she’s just wearing her headscarf and not her wig. My mother could walk around bald and still be the most gorgeous woman in the room. “You know, when I was eighteen, my best friend Jessi and I got a place together. It wasn’t much, but we had been saving for two summers, and we went out and bought everything new. I remember I bought a red Mixmaster. It cost me a lot, but it was the absolute favorite of all that I got that day. I loved that mixer. I had so much fun experimenting with recipes. It’s how I started making those chocolate chip cookies you love so much.”
“Oh, so that’s the story of how your famous cookies came about. Well, in that case…” I reach behind me and hold up a red Mixmaster picture and glue it on my counter. “Now my apartment is perfect.”
She reaches out and runs her soft hand along my cheek. “Promise me someday when you get your own place, you’ll live for both of us.”
I want to burst into tears. I hate when my mom talks like this, but it’s the truth, it’s our reality, and my mother who I love more than anything is dying a slow, painful death. And every day she is here trying to be strong for me and my father, a father who is rarely home anymore.
“All I ask from you, Savi, is to live it to the fullest and be happy. Do it for me, if not for yourself.”
“I promise,” I whisper, fighting the tears.
“You can cry, honey. I cry too.” She lets go and starts to tear up along with me. “It’s okay not to be strong. Part of living is feeling, and part of feeling is hurting.” I move to crawl up next to her. “As long as you don’t let the hurt consume you. Sometimes we all just need time to work it out.”
“I don’t want you to leave me, Mom.” I sob into her t-shirt. “I don’t know what to do without you.”
She holds me as tight as she can. “Just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I’m not here, Savannah, and you’re half of me, so, therefore, I’m never really gone.”
A sharp kick to my battered ribs jolts me back to reality. I’m flooded with incredible pain and everything goes black as I pass out again. This time my mom is nowhere to be found, only darkness and pain and loss. Once again, I am alone.
“Up.” His voice breaks my lovely dream.
My mother starts to fade, and the last thing I hear her say is, “Fight, my sweet Savannah, fight for your life.” Sunlight burns through the holes in the roof, making me squint. I see The American is wearing nothing but a pair of satin PJ pants.
Oh, no.
He reaches down and undoes my handcuffs, scooping me in his arms and holding me close to his chest. His lips make contact with my hair, and I force my tongue back. “How badly did I hurt you?”
Are you fucking kidding me? Is this a joke?
He walks me out of the attic, down the stairs, and through a hallway I don’t recognize. The lights are dim, the smell of flowers fills my nose, and faint music can be heard as we approach an open door. I catch the blonde girl from dinner peek out the door at me. Her eyes fill with tears as she steps back in the darkness.
“I want to make you feel better, Savannah.” His voice is low and in control, not like earlier. “This is my room,” he says as he steps across the threshold.
Oh, my hell.
A king-size bed sits in the middle of a large room. Brown curtains with gold patterns hang heavy throughout the space. A fireplace is lit, and a record player is playing an old Louisiana tune. Candles hang off the wall on dungeon-looking holders. I do spot another pair of handcuffs dangling from the headboard.
I thought I was past feeling fear, thought I’d seen it all.
He places me on the bed. “Now, my love, time to use your mouth in the way it’s intended. Lean back and open up.”
No. I was wrong. This is my deepest, darkest fear.
Cole
Cole checks his watch once again. Every minute that ticks by makes him grow more and more angry. All he can think of is that while this fat fucker sleeps in a warm bed, Savannah is chained to a wall. He senses Mark’s mood is the same. All it takes is one look at him, and they both slip out of the SUV with their weapons raised.
“I was wondering how much longer.” Keith smirks as the rest exit the SUV.
It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning, and darkness surrounds the house. The team moves as if they are part of the night. Cole takes a quick inventory of how many are in the house, and they confirm six. Tim Powers, his three men, the mother, and younger woman.
Daniel moves smoothly as he picks the lock and opens the door for John and Paul to move in. The two brothers are passed out on the couch. Cole and Mark move into the bedroom Tim and the younger woman are in. Cole nods to Mark as he points a gun at the woman’s head. Cole wraps his gloved hand over Tim’s mouth and nudges his rifle hard into his side. Tim’s eyes pop open. He starts to move but stops when he realizes what’s happening. Cole tells him to keep quiet and points to the girl with a gun to her head. Tim nods that he understands.
“Good. Now, get up and walk outside. Our men have everyone in this place covered. We have plenty of firepower, so keep your mouth shut. You try anything, and they all die.”
“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head, then Cole pulls him to his feet and shoves him out the door. Tim moves through the living room, taking in the fact that Paul and John have guns pointed at his friends. Once outside, they hurry him to the SUV. They cuff him, pat him down, and then push him into the truck. A steel divider separates the back from the rest of the vehicle, so Daniel keeps a gun pointed on Tim as they speed away from the house. Within minutes, they’re on the road heading to an open field they saw earlier.
Pulling off the road, Mark hops out and opens the back of the truck, grabbing Tim and slamming him to the ground. The men point their weapons at his face. Green lasers bounce around on his chest. Cole pulls out his flashlight and shines it in his face, making him look away.
“I take it you’re here for the girl?” Tim grunts, shifting his body in obvious discomfort on the rocky soil. “I was waiting for you.”