Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  When the initial shock finally wore off, Cassandra began screaming hysterically for someone to save her child, prompting the men in attendance to action. Almost as one, Nicola, Malcolm, Tate, and Raidon drew their concealed weapons and spaced themselves apart, each training their weapon carefully above the madwoman's head, just in case.

  “Martina, let him go, please!” Cassandra sobbed. “If you shoot, then they will shoot and kill you! And if they don't, I will!” Sobs suddenly turning to pure, unadulterated fury, she struggled to break herself free from the firm grasp of Satin and Jocelyn.

  Fearing her outburst would prompt Martina to shoot, Jocelyn gave her daughter a good shake and hissed, “Hush, now.” Pushing Cassandra behind her protectively, she locked stares with the deranged woman unflinchingly.

  “You can't protect that bitch! I'll kill whoever I have to to get to her! And I'll start with the spawn of hell here!” she raged as she pointed the pistol to Regan's temple once again. Shifting mental gears with frightening speed and instability, she gave Granger a pleading look and whined, “Granger, my love, come with me!”

  Frightened out of his wits for his threatened child, Granger sprang into desperate action. “You crazy whore, let my boy go!” he screamed as he lunged at them.

  Grabbing Cassandra by the shoulders, Tate hurled her to the floor roughly, then threw his own body down on top of hers protectively, just in case Martina decided to fire at her.

  “Granger, MOVE!” Malcolm shouted as he crouched and took aim, hoping for a clear shot.

  “GET THE FUCK DOWN!” Raidon yelled at Satin and Jocelyn.

  Both women jumped down, then grabbed the still out-cold Cynne's arms and pulled her to relative safety behind a couch.

  Seeing Granger charging like an angry bull, Martina simply reacted like a frightened, cornered animal. Side-stepping from his grasp, she aimed the pistol at his chest at an angle, then pulled the trigger.

  The sound of gunfire rang out, and all activity seemed to freeze in time.

  Granger felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest that seemed to sap every inch of breath and strength from his body, then collapsed to the floor, wheezing. The last thing he heard was his wife and son screaming for him, then everything went black.

  ************************

  “Oh my God, GRANGER!” Cassandra screamed as she struggled to free herself from Tate's tight grasp. “Let me go, he's been shot! I need to get to my husband!”

  Knowing it was now a no win situation, Martina slowly backed out of the room, using Regan as a human shield. “Follow me, and the rug rat is dead!” she cried in a shrill voice devoid of all sanity.

  Once Martina was out the door, Tate eased his grip on Cassandra enough for her to untangle herself.

  Not bothering to get up, she crawled to Granger as fast as she could, while the rest of the men rushed from the room in an attempt to save Regan. “Oh God, please don't take him from me.” she sobbed as she looked at the hole in the right side of his shirt. Tearing the garment open with trembling hands, buttons flew in every direction, and she was stunned and confused when she saw no blood, although there was a nasty black and blue bruise already swelling on the right side of his chest.

  “Uhhhhhhhhh...” he moaned as his eyelids fluttered open reluctantly. “Oh God...it hurts....”

  Heart beating like a trip hammer from both hope and terror, she babbled, “This is impossible, she shot you, I saw it! How......” her voice trailed off as a sudden thought struck her. Reaching in the right hand pocket of his shirt where the bullet had passed through, she pulled out a small lump of twisted, singed metal. It was the gold token she had given him earlier, and it had apparently deflected the bullet. Thunderstruck, she suddenly remembered watching a forensics show once where an expert had explained that a bullet could ricochet off a metallic or even glass surface, if the projectile came into contact with it at precisely the right angle. But never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would witness such a miracle herself.

  “Granger, GET UP, we have to get our son!” she cried with both relief and a sense of urgency. Giving his face a hard slap to rouse him, she shook him, and then grabbed him by both arms to try to help him to his feet.

  ****************

  Outside, Malcolm, Tate, Nicola, and Raidon gave chase as Martina half-ran, half-dragged Regan through the throng of suddenly shocked and surprised wedding guests, and they guessed she was hoping to make it to the heavily wooded area a scant one hundred yards away.

  Panting desperately, Martina stopped momentarily and turned, hoping to get off a shot, but with Regan wiggling and screaming at the top of his lungs, it was no use, and she had to resist the urge to pistol-whip the little snot when she saw her pursuers flip two tables over, then dive for cover behind them, patiently waiting for a chance to take aim and fire.

  Screaming like a bobcat being flayed alive, she raised the pistol high above her head, glared down at Regan with a look of maniacal hatred, then hesitated. If she killed the brat, or rendered him unconscious, he would no longer be of any use to her as a human shield, or a bargaining chip.

  “COME ON, YOU!” she snarled. Giving the child's arm a yank so vicious it nearly dislocated his shoulder, she whirled around and was slammed directly in the face by a large, extremely heavy antique sterling silver serving platter.

  Little motes of light dancing before her eyes, Martina's vision suddenly dimmed. Dropping both the pistol and releasing her grip on the child's wrist, her knees buckled, then the ground rushed up to meet her.

  Dropping the serving platter, Latisha Weeks quickly scooped up the gun. Pointing it at the dazed madwoman, she used her free hand to motion for Regan to come to her. “Bitch, don't you move a muscle! Just for trying to hurt this baby I should blow your head off.” she hissed, then pulled Regan close to her, trying to comfort him.

  Wrapping his trembling little arms around her, Regan pressed his little red face into her side. “DO IT, MS. LATISHA! SHOOT HER!!” he sobbed.

  “It's alright hon, I got her covered, you can lower the gun.” a deep masculine voice purred with deadly assurance.

  Latisha spun around, preparing to shoot the unknown man standing behind her, who was dressed in woodland camouflage fatigues, and brandishing a 9mm.

  “Hold up, darling, I'm not the enemy. I'm a friend.” he said, holding his free hand up in a placating manner.

  Suddenly Raidon and the other men were rushing to the scene, with him barking orders. “Chris, cuff her. Hurry, the cops will be crawling all over the place soon!”

  Having quickly regained her senses, Martina screamed like a banshee and thrashed about wildly as the young man flipped her over face-first on the ground, grasped both her wrists and forced them behind her, then cuffed her in a trice. “Don't you touch me, you gutter trash!” she spat.

  “Way to go, slugger!” Zeke smiled at Latisha as he stepped forward and cautiously took the weapon from her hand. Clicking on the safety, he slid the gun into a large pocket in his fatigue jacket. “The name's Zeke.” he said, then gave her a wink.

  “Regan!” Cassandra screamed as she came waddling out of the house behind Granger.

  “Granger. I.....make them let me go! Tell them you want me, that I'm supposed to be your wife!” Martina screamed from the ground, thrashing around like a fish out of water as Granger approached.

  “You crazy bitch, you almost killed my brother and my nephew! Where I come from, this means death, an eye for an eye! We don't need the law to tell us you did wrong! You will die, NOW! The only way you're leaving here is in a body bag!” Nicola sputtered as he pointed a 9mm at Martina's head. “You're a blight that needs to be eradicated!”

  “Nicola, NO!” Granger yelled, not wanting his son to see what he knew was going to go down. Glancing at Jocelyn and Tate, he implored. “Take Regan inside, please!”

  Relinquishing her grip on her son, Cassandra knew she needed to stop her brother-in-law from shooting the crazy woman out in the open, in front of witnesses
. She refused to lose anyone else she loved because of Martina. “Nicola, don't do this, you'll go to prison. There are too many witnesses here.” she whispered just loud enough for those in the immediate vicinity to hear. Reaching out tentatively, she placed her tiny hand on top of his, and gently tried to coax him into lowering the weapon, but he wouldn't budge.

  Latisha stepped forward, putting her hand on his shoulder as his finger itched to pull the trigger. “Nicola, please, put the gun down. Your family, none of them could live with themselves if you went to jail because of her. Let your brother handle this...trust him.”

  With a feral gleam in his eyes, Granger whispered just loud enough for Nicola to hear. “She's right bro..I promise she'll be dealt with.”

  “Oh, Granger, my darling, I KNEW you loved me! I knew you wouldn't let that beast hurt the woman you love!” Martina sniffed as she saw Nicola lower the weapon, then turn and walk away angrily.

  “Latisha, go check on Satin and Cynne'. Raidon, Zeke, Malcolm, Chris, you stay here with me. The rest of you, could you all please give us some time alone, to straighten things out with the authorities when they get here?” Granger said in a loud voice as he turned and addressed the throng of wedding guests.

  Murmuring amongst themselves, and eager to gossip in private, they all turned and filed inside the mansion.

  Turning to the young man who was assigned to Regan, Granger said, “ Chris, take the rest of the security detail and sweep the house and grounds, make sure there are no reporters around, then inform the guests we've decided to postpone for a bit. Then escort them from the grounds, please.”

  “Yes sir.” he nodded, then turned and trotted towards the main entrance.

  “Cass, hon, would you go inside too, please?” Granger asked.

  Looking him in the eye in complete silence for a moment, she finally nodded, as if reading his thoughts. Walking up to Zeke, she smiled at him, reached up and touched his face with one hand, then stood on tip-toe and kissed one cheek. “I'm glad you're home safe. And you ARE home now, Zeke, you're a part of our family now. Thank you so much for what you've done for us. Granger and I wouldn't be here today if it hadn't been for you and that other woman's bravery. That stranger who took care of Brett. Thank you so much.” she whispered.

  Looking into her warm brown eyes, her words both moved him and shook him like nothing he had ever felt before. “Thank you, darling, it's good to be home.” he stammered.

  Then, in the blink of an eye, the sweet, peace-loving woman's demeanor changed as she turned and faced Martina, who was glaring up at her in silence. Delivering a swift, vicious kick to the gut that knocked the breath from her nemesis, she snarled, “You fucked up when you messed with my child. If it had just been me, I would say let them lock your crazy ass up. But you fucked with my child, and shot my man.”

  “You black bi...bitch...I'll fucking ....kill you, you wait....and see...” Martina wheezed, still trying to catch her breath.

  Nodding once, as if to herself, Cassandra looked up and faced each man in turn solemnly for a moment, her gaze finally coming to rest on her husband. “Handle her any way you see fit. I wash my hands of this. I don't care how you do it, but I never want to have to worry about her hurting us again. Ever!” That said, she spun on one heel and headed towards the mansion, leaving them to do what needed to be done.

  Panicked, Martina looked up at the men who now circled her, and even in her madness knew they all wanted her dead. “Granger, STOP THIS!” she sobbed in desperation, her face fire engine red, tears streaming down her cheeks, and a rope of drool hanging from one corner of her mouth. “We...we...we can work something out! I'll go away and wait for you to come to me, Ok? I won't bother Cassandra anymore, Ok?” she asked with a trusting, shell-shocked smile.

  Squatting down beside her, Granger's handsome face twisted into a sneer that was only able to hold a fraction of the infinite contempt he felt. “You've fucked with my family, you've fucked with ME, for the last time. By the time we're done with you, you'll be waking up in hell with that freak cousin of yours. You will never get the chance to hurt anyone I love, ever again.”

  “OWWWWW!” Martina cried as Zeke squatted down beside her, then plunged a syringe into her right arm, the strong, fast-acting sedative taking effect almost immediately.

  Hearing sirens in the distance, Zeke hoisted Martina over one shoulder, then looked at Granger and said, “I'll be back when it's done.”

  Chapter 61

  Heading to the room Cassandra had told her she could use, Latisha sighed as she massaged her aching lower back. She was drained both physically and emotionally. Since it seemed as if everyone and their brother was staying at Granger and Cassandra's new estate, she really wanted to stay at Nicola's place, to enjoy a little more solitude. But it seemed Cassandra and Granger (which they insisted she call them) wanted the people they considered family all together in one place. It was a bit unsettling how they had just seemed to pull her into their tight circle of close family and friends, in such a short amount of time.

  Unused to such kindness, she briefly wondered if she should just leave. Initially, she had only taken the job at the estate to avoid her greedy, libidinous step-father, Pete Luckerman. If Pete finds out I'm here, he won't stop until he gets to me! What if one of those reporters got a picture of me? I NEED TO LEAVE! She thought.

  “Latisha?” a soft voice called from behind her.

  Nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned to see Nicola standing there, his white dress shirt open, exposing his chest, and she felt her pulse quicken. As lonely as she was feeling at that moment, she didn't think she could handle his flirting and brazenness.

  “You saved Regan. You were so strong. I guess what my grandmother said is true: Acqua cheta rovina I ponti. (silent waters run deep). Do you know what that means, Bella?” He asked, stepping towards her and caressing her smooth, delicate face.

  Feeling the electricity of his touch, she nodded as a small smile lit up her cherubic face. “Silent waters run deep. I didn't do anything spec......” her voice was cut off as she suddenly found herself engulfed in his embrace. There was no groping, no grinding, just a hug, a hug they both needed.

  Closing her eyes, she unexpectedly found herself letting her guard down as she rested her head on his chest, absorbing his warmth, cloaked in an unfamiliar, yet pleasant shiver of awareness. “I 'm crazy about that little boy, and I didn't want to see you do something that would take you from your family. You mean a lot to....” her voice trailed off, fearing she'd exposed too much of herself. Breaking free from his grasp reluctantly, she took a single step back.

  Looking her in the eye, he made no move towards her, but simply said, “Thank you. Other than my grandmother, no woman has ever looked out for me. Most just want what they can get. Get some rest, il mio bello (my beautiful) it's been a long, trying day.” That said, he cupped her warm face with both hands, then leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

  With wide eyes, she watched as he turned and began walking away. She wanted desperately to call him back, but found herself unable to for some reason. Touching the spot he had kissed moments earlier, she heard her cautious inner voice warning her to stay away from him and resist, but her body hoped he would touch her again.

  ***********************

  After giving a statement to Detective Brian Lemont, Granger headed to the master bedroom, ready to just crawl into bed with his family and sleep for a year. Stopping just inside the doorway, he drank in the sight of his wife curled up in bed with Regan, his little hand resting on her rounded belly. She was humming, eyes closed, and gently caressing her son's face. To see them both there and safe gave him a great sense of joy, and a feeling of peace suddenly washed over him, knowing that Martina was in capable hands at last.

  When Cassandra looked up and smiled at him, he felt his knees weaken, and right at that moment he fell hopelessly in love with her all over again. “You alright honey?” he whispered, trying not to wake Regan.r />
  Letting out a long, tired sigh, she raised up and rested one cheek in the palm of her hand. “Well, my sweet man, a madwoman ruined our day. My sweet son and my husband was almost killed. My brother-in-law almost committed murder in front of the entire world, and top it all off, my best friend had to be sedated and almost got a one-way trip to the rubber room because of that silly horror movie protocol she's always going on about.” Holding out one hand and motioning for him to come close, she allowed herself a small laugh. “I guess, all in all, it could have been worse. I have all the people I love still around me, so I'm happy. I'll never take you, Regan, this baby, or the other people in our lives for granted again.”

  Taking her hand in his, he climbed onto the California king bed and glanced at Regan, who was still snoozing peacefully. Reaching out, he pushed a lock of hair from the boy's beautiful little face. Blinking back tears, he murmured, “We've been through hell for three long years, and you're probably gonna kick my ass for saying this, but I would go through that hell all over again just to be with you. I regret nothing. As a matter fact, I thank God the day I met this little tree hugger, yelling that I was a fat-cat business man.”