After Addie ran off to catch Mary’s cat, Miles asked, “Mom, what about the bad man?”
“He’s dead, sweetie.” I knew my son well enough to know he understood what death meant. His lizard died last winter, and in this context, I thought it would come as a relief to know that the bad man wouldn’t be back.
“When can we go home?”
“Not for a while.”
“Good,” he said and then added, “I like it here.”
On the one hand, to hear him echo my thoughts about going back to the house broke my heart. On the other, I was glad he felt safe because I wasn’t sure where else we’d go.
I took a long shower, and then pulled on some clothes I’d borrowed from Mary before I laid down with the kids in the spare bedroom. I awoke later with an idea and slipped out of bed. As quietly as I could, I padded to the door. Their house, also a quaint little Cape Cod was the mirror image of ours, the only exception being that they’d converted one of the smaller bedrooms into an office and the guest bathroom was only accessible from the hallway.
I went downstairs and found Mary sitting at the dining room table clipping coupons. “Is Hal here?”
“No he won’t be back until dinner. I’m getting ready to run to the store, do you need anything? How about the kids? Do they have a favorite food, or how about snacks?”
“You don’t have to do that. In fact, why don’t I chip in for the groceries since my kids will end up eating all of your food anyway?”
Mary chuckled and shook her head, “You know, Hal and I wanted a family of our own, but I can’t get pregnant. Having you and the kids here feels so right. Let me dote on them while I can, okay?”
“Fine. But I really do want to pitch in. Just tell me what you need and I’ll see to it.”
“Now,” Mary tsked, “What I really need you to do is rest. When I get back, I’ll watch the kids so the nice officer sitting out in his car can take you to the hospital. I’m sure you’re anxious to see Rodney again.”
Mary gathered up her coupons and left me to my own devices, saying, “If you’re hungry, help yourself to whatever you can find!”
I decided to take a look around to see if I could come up with something helpful to do, but the house was immaculate. The hardwood floors didn’t have an ounce of fur on them and the bathrooms shone. My kitchen would be envious of how clean Mary’s kitchen was kept. There wasn’t even a pillow out of place on the couch. Overcome with weariness, I moved one of the fluffed pillows and lay down. Mary’s cat, Oscar, settled on my chest. His purring added another level of comfort.
~ * ~
After going to see Rodney, and there being no change in his condition—except as one nurse pointed out, he’d survived the day—I got back to Hal and Mary’s house just in time for dinner. The kids were already seated and quiet, which was nothing short of a miracle. Mary said Hal was changing out of his work clothes and that he’d swung by the house, “There’s a bag upstairs in your room. I have no idea what he brought you, but I hope some of it works.” She said with a knowing smile.
“I’ll just go freshen up.” I said, adding by way of explanation, “Hospital cooties and all.”
“Good thinking. We’ll be right here.
The bag of clothes was a mishmash of things. Luckily, I didn’t keep any clothes that didn’t fit in my closet because it looked like he just went through and dumped it all in a bag. He even brought me some undies and socks, which was really going above and beyond the call of duty. I washed up in the little bathroom and changed into a t-shirt and my favorite pair of jeans. The children were laying on the floor in the living room watching television when I sat down at the table.
Mary placed a basket of garlic bread and the salad on the table. “I hope you don’t mind. I already plated your lasagna.”
Sweet heaven, the smell of the roasted garlic and other spices wafted up from my plate. I inhaled deeply. “Mary, this smells wonderful!”
Hal smiled proudly at his wife, “She’s one hell of a cook, that’s for sure!” Adding with a wink, “That’s why I married her.”
“Oh hush, you!” Mary laughed. “I couldn’t cook worth a darn when we got married. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Betty Crocker, we’d have starved ages ago.”
“Well, you certainly could’ve fooled me.” I said, “This looks and smells as good as what my momma used to make, and she was known for her lasagna.”
“I just hope it’s as good as it smells.” Mary said, “Dig in! We don’t stand on ceremony around here.”
The conversation was light as we ate. Mary brought up Halloween, which was tomorrow night, “Do the children have costumes?”
“They do. Miles decided to go as a red Power Ranger and while we were buying the costume, Addie saw the pink one and her desire to be a ballerina died on the spot.”
After a hearty laugh, Hal sobered, “Not to be a downer, but I have a favor to ask of you, Kate.”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“Well, we think the Layton boys are still in town. A car matching the description of one of their girlfriends was seen outside your house this afternoon. The neighbor catty-cornered to your place called it in because they were parked in front of his house. He thought it was suspicious so he took the garbage can out and got their license plate.”
“That was Jameson, no doubt. He’d be the first one to yell at the neighborhood kids to get off his lawn.” I took a sip of water, “So, what’s the favor?”
I can’t say I was surprised when he told me what they’d cooked up. It was basically the same plan I’d come up with earlier. Before I could say anything though, Mary hit the table with her palm, making us jump and the silverware rattle, “Hal! You can’t ask her to do that! Not after what she’s been through!”
“It’s okay, Mary.” I said, “Really. I want to do this. I was even going to suggest something similar. I think we’ll all sleep easier if these guys are caught.”
“At least wait a few days.” Mary said.
Understanding her concern, I covered her hand with mine, “If we wait, then we lose the upper hand. I killed their brother and their father. They want me. If we give them time to plan anything, we lose any edge we might have had, and we need this to be on our terms.”
Mary nodded and squeezed my hand.
With that settled, I turned to Hal, “How soon can we put this in motion?”
“We can be ready by tomorrow night.”
“Great. This is one Halloween I’m sure to remember.” The sooner this was over, the sooner we could go back to our lives. I wasn’t surprised the brothers knew where I lived, and I wasn’t surprised they were plotting their revenge. I just didn’t want to be out somewhere with the kids when they decided to act. If it was on my terms, then I controlled the players. If I hid, then I’d always worry that they were in the shadows waiting to pounce. No. It was better to be done with it.
~ * ~
The kids went trick or treating with Mary and her friend, Camilla, and Camilla’s three kids, while a plain-clothes officer dropped me off at my house. She grabbed my forearm as I climbed out, “Remember, you’re not alone. Just say the word and we’ll swoop in.”
“I know. Thanks.” Stepping up to the front door, a chill ran down my spine. Just fitting the key in the lock felt foreign. I didn’t think it would ever feel like home again. I planned to suggest moving to Rodney when he recovered. At the thought of my husband lying in the hospital with tubes and wires keeping him alive, my blood boiled. With renewed resolve I opened the door and stepped into the house.
Turning the lights on as I went, I headed straight up to my bedroom where we had a gun safe built into the closet. The casual observer wouldn’t be able to tell it was any more than a closet. Between Rodney and I, we had an impressive collection. Fifteen guns might seem excessive to some, but to us, these weren’t merely weapons. Some were collector editions, but their value didn’t make them any less effective.
I stuffed a duffle bag with every gun we had; mak
ing sure each one had a magazine loaded and an extra for good measure. Once that was done, I strapped a holster on my thigh and tucked another one in the back of my waistband. I put my Glock-17, also known as Thelma, in my thigh holster and another smaller Glock, Louise, at my back. After that was done, I went through each room, leaving a gun hidden, but accessible, should I be caught unaware. There wasn’t any guarantee that they’d come, but if they did, I’d be ready for them.
Once I was done distributing the guns throughout the house, I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. I wasn’t interested in what was on, but I found an old Halloween Classic on AMC and waited.
~ * ~
I must have fallen asleep because a voice in my ear woke me up. “Activity on Magnolia,” the tinny male voice said. Suppressing the urge to bolt upright, I laid still.
Heart hammering, I whispered, “Copy that.” A different movie was playing on TV. It was one of the Friday the 13th flicks—just what I needed at the moment. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I forced myself to take a few calming breaths. With as little movement as possible, I reached under the blanket and released the snap on my thigh-holster. I didn’t remove Thelma, though. Instead, I just rested my hand on her.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait, the voice in my ear said, “All clear.” After releasing a long whoosh of air, I managed, “Roger.”
Securing Thelma, I rose and stretched before checking my watch.
Midnight.
I’d managed to get four hours of sleep. Not too shabby, I thought as I padded to the bathroom to relieve my over-stimulated bladder. Maybe they won’t come tonight.
At two, I decided to call it a night.
“Birdie is heading to her nest.” I chuckled, knowing it would be transmitted via the bone mic in my ear. Turning off all but a couple of lights, I trudged upstairs to my room. I did everything I would normally do: brushed my teeth, washed my face. Then I crawled into bed. I thought of my husband lying alone in the hospital, fighting for his life. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind drew on that and threw me back to the days when I was the one on a roof in the middle of a war zone, picking off targets. Only having the barest of facts like a name and face, was supposed to keep me at an emotional distance from my targets. It didn’t. I was trained to be a machine, but I was still human. I didn’t have to wonder if the nightmares would come. Tonight would be no exception.
I tried some of the breathing techniques I’d learned in therapy to calm myself and try to reach sleep. When that failed, I pulled out my Kindle and tried to pick up where I’d left off in the book I was reading, but even that was beyond me. My gaze washed over the words like water washes through a gully, but soon enough sleep claimed me anyway.
I awoke with a start, a high-pitched whine in my ear, and my heart thrumming in my chest. A weight pushed down on me, making it hard to breathe, making it impossible to move. Panic seized me before the heaviness of sleep lifted. Everything shifted into sharp focus. A hand pressed against my mouth, smelling of gasoline and cigarettes. The germaphobe in me wondered briefly where that hand had been, when was the last time it was washed? I gagged.
“Wakey, wakey, bitch.” Spittle sprayed my face, his breath lingered around me like a cloud of sewer gas.
I tried to move my arms, but he straddled me, pinning them beneath the covers. His right hand moved in front of my face, the glint of steel flickering in the pale moonlight streaming through the windows. A knife. I wriggled, trying to free myself, trying to throw him off.
He tsked, “I don’t think so.” He lifted his hand from my mouth, “Scream if you wanna. Nobody gonna hear ya anymore.”
He sat back, his knee lifting off of my right hand enough to free it while he picked at his fingernails with the sharp point of his knife. The other knee dug painfully into the back of my left hand. He really should have stayed put. Careful not to draw attention, I searched the bed for the gun I’d hidden earlier. It should have been within easy reach. I found my Kindle, but that wasn’t going to help me.
“Looking for this?” He asked. My gun swung from his index finger. “Figured a girl like you would be curling up next to something cold.” Looking over at Rodney’s empty side of the bed, he added, “He’s luckier than you will be, but not for long.”
He laughed, a long mirthless cackle.
His eyes locked with mine as his laugh dried up. “Nah. I’ve got special plans for you, darlin’.”
A shiver shook my body. They say if you’re abducted to talk to your captor, to humanize yourself. That’s assuming they’re human. I didn’t see any humanity in this lunatic and I refused to beg. At least I’d die knowing my kids were safe.
He leaned forward again, putting more pressure on my hand, crushing it under his knee until there was an audible pop. The sudden pain had me seeing stars and biting down on my lip to keep from screaming. Sweat broke out all over my body and bile stung the back of my throat. Turning my head to the side, I vomited.
A wide Joker-grin flooded his face, “I’m gonna have fun breaking you.”
The sound of someone trudging up the stairs caught his attention. My hand and my shoulder both throbbed, making it difficult to think. Pushing those sensations into a box in my mind, I refocused on the man on top of me.
“It ain’t pretty, Larry, but it’s done.” A gruff voice said from the doorway.
“Good.” Larry said. I had no idea what he was talking about but I wasn’t about to interrupt their conversation. They kept talking, while I slid my good hand up to my pillow. Reaching under it, I withdrew my Glock 19. Knowing one was already in the chamber and ready to go, in one fluid motion, I brought the gun up and blew a hole into my attackers’ forehead. Blood splattered me as he fell forward, just missing my face with his and crushing me under his weight.
“Fuck!” The gruff voice said from across the room.
I felt the vibration of boots as they stomped over to the bed.
“You fucking bitch. What did you do?”
I barely heard him over the ringing in my ears, but I couldn’t waste time talking to him anyway. I needed to assess the situation and it wasn’t good, pinned as I was, beneath two hundred pounds of dead idiot. I tried to shift my weight by lifting my right leg and pushing him off, but it was impossible. Maybe if I didn’t have to worry about the remaining Layton brother, I could’ve done more, but as it was, Larry was acting like a shield. Albeit, a really foul smelling, bloodletting shield.
I still had the gun in my hand, but Larry made it impossible to move my arm. The other Layton brother paced the room, mumbling and hitting himself in the head with his gun. He also said “Fuck!” at the end of every circuit. I’m pretty sure he was crying too, but I couldn’t really see his face from where I lay. Sooner or later though, the crazy lunatic was going to get mad and when he did, I knew I’d better have a plan.
Except, the whole “plan thing” didn’t really work. Ever. I mean, where was Hal and his merry men? Was that who the crazy fuck had “taken care of”? I didn’t want their deaths on my conscience. Especially Hal. How would I ever face Mary again? Thinking of Mary brought me full circle. My kids. They didn’t deserve this. And what about Rodney? What if he didn’t survive? All for a stupid Halloween party that we never actually attended! Fiery anger burned through my stomach and up my chest.
Breaking my silence, I said, “You know what your first mistake was?”
The pacing stopped. The air felt charged.
“You boys assumed you had the upper hand, and you know what they say about assuming.”
“Everything would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been such a fucking bitch.”
I sighed. “No. Everything would have been fine had you boys not concocted some half-assed plan to kidnap two people. I mean, who does that? And as a family, no less?”
“That was Eddie’s idea.”
“Well then, Eddie got himself killed.”
In two long strides he reached to the bed, “You know what your mistake was
lady?”
“Name’s Kate,” I said dryly.
“Okay. Kate. Do you know what your mistake was, Kate?” A sneer evident in his voice.
“And your name would be?”
“Billy.”
“Fine. Please, enlighten me, Billy.”
“You killed my family, you fucking bitch. Now it’s your turn.” He pulled his brother off me. Larry hit the floor with a thud. Momentarily distracted by his brother’s prostrate form, I drew my gun and fired.
The shot hit Billy in the stomach. He looked at me through the semi-darkness, his mouth forming an “o”. He came at me with arms outstretched. I fired again. This time, the bullet ripped through the center of his chest. His body bucked, but he kept coming.
“You too stupid to die?” I yelled. Probably shouldn’t mock a madman, Kate, a voice inside my head admonished.
His hands reached for my neck and I fired again, but nothing happened. The fucking useless piece of shit jammed. Tossing it away, I kicked out from under the covers and twisted around, just in time for his hands to find my neck. He squeezed. Blood flowed freely from his wounds onto my tank top and ran down to pool at my neck, where it mingled with his brother’s blood. Bright pinpoints of light flickered around the edges of my vision. Kicking out, I scored a shot to his balls. He let go with a huff. Stumbling backward over his brother, he landed in a heap on the floor.
Ignoring the pain in my hand and shoulder, grabbing my gun again, I scrambled up, clearing the chamber as I went. The pain in my hand blossomed and left me seeing stars. My head swam.
“Stay down, Asshole!” But even in the dark I could see that he wasn’t trying to get up. He was too busy holding his balls. “Unbelievable. Two bullets don’t take you down, but a kick to your balls does? Pathetic.”
Terrible Cherubs: Tales of Sinners, Mistakes, and Regrets Page 16