When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  “Why don’t we go for a walk? You look like you are a bit flustered. Some air might do you good,” he suggests.

  Clearly, he isn’t taking the hint. “Okay, a short one, just around the block. I’m exhausted, and I have delivery coming any minute now.”

  We walk in silence for a bit. Eventually, he speaks, more like yammers, trying to fill the void. I don’t hear him. All I can think about is getting home and shutting out the world. Especially men.

  “Are you even listening to me, Lil?” he asks in a curt tone.

  “Sorry. I’m terrible company right now. My brain’s checked out for the day. I should really head back.”

  “What I was saying is that you really shouldn’t waste your time with someone that doesn’t appreciate you. I saw the tabloids. Why do you waste your time on that jackass boyfriend of yours? You’re smart, gorgeous, sexy, and funny. The list goes on and on. You’re what every guy dreams of. You’re so much sexier than any of those girls he’s been caught with.”

  I don’t remember telling him about Gavin. I suppose I might have mentioned it, or maybe Charlie remembers me from the tabloids. The whole exchange feels off somehow. “Thanks, that’s really sweet of you to say,” I offer, hoping to nip the subject in the bud.

  “You need to take care of yourself. Try to get your life back on track, it sounds like.”

  “That’s good advice,” I reply. “Speaking of which, I should really get back.”

  “Why don’t you come home with me?” he suggests. “Let me make you dinner. Sounds like you need some pampering. You certainly deserve it.”

  “Thanks anyway, but I think I just need to go home and get some rest. So let’s head back, okay? The delivery guy is probably there waiting for me.” This is beyond awkward. Why, oh, why did I go on this stupid walk?

  I try to turn back toward the building, but Charlie blocks my way. He grabs my hand and leads me further down the street, a bit more forcefully than I would care for. “Come on. I won’t take no for answer.”

  I try to pull my hand away, but he’s holding on too tightly. “Charlie, I really need to get home. You’ve been really kind, and I’m grateful, but I really do need to get going.”

  He has me by the wrist and isn’t letting go. Yanking on my arm now, he’s practically dragging me toward a row of parked cars. The more I resist, the harder he pulls.

  “Charlie, I’m going to say this one last time. Let. Me. Go. NOW!”

  I look around to see if there’s anyone who can help, but there’s no one on this tiny side street he’s led me to. I try again to pull away, but I’m yanked back toward him, causing me to lose my footing. I fall to the ground, and my head smacks against the pavement. Hard. I’m dizzy and disoriented. The pain is throbbing, and I want to close my eyes and rest, but I know I need to push past it. Struggling to stay conscious, I try to remember my training. I pull myself to my feet and try to regain my balance.

  Charlie still has my arm and is dragging me with him. I resist with all of my might, but in my traction-less flip-flops, I slide across the pavement. I suppose this is what I get for wearing flip-flops out in November.

  His long finger nails dig into my skin as I pull against his grasp. The more I squirm, the deeper they slice into my wrist. I make to scream, but before I can get a sound out, his free hand connects with my wind pipe. Pain explodes in my throat as I gasp for air.

  I steady myself enough to launch a solid kick to his balls. He doubles over but doesn’t let go of my arm. Then I give him three swift knees to the kidneys and a hard kick to the face. He howls, but still does not let go of my arm. Instead, he grips harder. I feel as though my arm is going to be ripped out of the socket.

  He tries to kick my legs out from under me but misses. I give him a knee to the groin, then another one to the gut. While he’s bent over, I throw the entire weight of my body onto the shoulder of the arm holding my wrist in one barreling move. I feel his shoulder dislocate, and he finally releases my arm. While he’s hunched over, kneeling, I kick the back of his head, and his forehead smacks into the pavement.

  Once I hear his head crack on the ground, I turn my back on him and run as fast as I can to my building. The doorman is missing. So much for the security upgrades. Afraid Charlie’ll see me waiting for the elevator, I book it up the stairs. Twelve very long flights later, I finally make it to my apartment. My weary body makes it through the door and to the phone to call Max. The call goes straight to voicemail. I don’t get out more than, “Get home, Max,” before I black out.

  Twenty-Six

  I come around to Max calling my name. I’m on the floor of my apartment and feel as though I’ve been run over by a dump truck, but can’t quite remember why. Max is talking to me, but I’m not processing anything he’s saying. It’s as though my brain’s been scrambled. When I try to sit up, searing pain shoots up the back of my skull. That jolt makes it all come back. Charlie.

  When the world comes into focus, Max is right in my face. He looks me in the eye and says, “Well, there you are. Nice of you to join the party. Want to tell me what the hell happened here?”

  “Charlie,” I whisper. I’m surprised how much it hurts to talk. I motion for Max to get me some water.

  After I have a long drink, I try again. “He was waiting for me outside the building, said he wanted to talk. I told him we could go for a short walk, but he attacked me,” I rasp. “He dragged me down the sidewalk. I’m guessing he was trying to get me to his car.”

  I pause for a minute to collect myself, still trying to put it all together. “I never told him where I live, Max. I don’t know how he found me. Or why he found me. I thought he had a bit of a crush, but this was nuts. He was talking about Gavin and how he doesn’t deserve me. Said he wants to pamper me.”

  He puts his arms around me. “Holy shit, Lil. Why have you never told me about this guy? Fuck. We need to get you to the ER now. Greene,” he says, turning to face the other agent. “Did you call for the ambulance yet?” He looks back at me. “You’re covered in blood, but I don’t see anywhere you’re cut too bad. Can you tell me where it hurts?”

  I want to tell him it’s not all my blood, but Greene interrupts. “I did the second we saw her. I called tech too. They need to process the scene.” Greene comes closer and kneels, running his thumb over my forehead. “I don’t know how you get into these situations, kid. Look, I know you’re tired and you want to rest, but I need you to tell me where this happened. I need to send my guys over there.”

  “On Newport, between 21st and 22nd.”

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Sully bellows from the other side of the room. “Some guy you don’t know shows up at your building that you never told him about and you go for a walk with him? Damn it, Lily!”

  “Nice to see you too,” I croak. “I thought he was harmless.”

  “Doesn’t look too harmless to me!” he continues, yelling still.

  “Sullivan!” Greene barks at him. “Back off.”

  Sully storms out of the condo.

  “He’s just worried about you. We all are.” Greene says, trying to soothe me.

  Seconds later, the EMTs come rushing in. They check my vitals and then put me on the gurney. After a quick elevator ride, they load me up in the ambulance with Max in tow.

  “How’d you get away, Lil?” he asks. “I see your wrists are all sliced up. I’m guessing he was holding on pretty good.”

  “You’re perceptive, Max.”

  He holds my hand as the EMT beside me continues to check me over. “This is my job, babe. I’m an FBI agent, remember? A damn good one. So, he had you by the wrists, and then...” He motions for me to continue.

  “I kicked him in the junk and was able to break away. I beat the crap out of him and ran. I’m pretty sure I dislocated his shoulder, and he’s going to need stitches for sure.”

  “That’s my girl!” He kisses me on the cheek and gives me as big of a hug as he can while I’m on a gurney and hooked up to an IV. “
I’m so proud of you!”

  I regale Max with the blow-by-blow for the rest of the ride to the hospital.

  Being brought to the hospital by the FBI has its perks. I’m seen right away and have the nicest nurses. The doctor gives me twelve stitches to the back of my head and informs me I have a mild concussion. The cuts and bruises are annoying, but he promises they’re nothing to worry about. There’s a chance I have some damage to a tendon in my shoulder, but it’s too soon to tell. I know that I walked away from the encounter in much better shape than Charlie, and I’m more than a little surprised when Greene shows up to tell me he hadn’t still been lying on the sidewalk when they got to the scene.

  I feel great about fighting him off but so stupid for letting him into my life.

  After the doctor leaves, Sully comes in. “Hey kid,” he says. “Sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. You just really had me worried.”

  “It’s okay, Sully. I understand. You were right. It was stupid. I was so worried about being forced to invite him in that I just wanted to keep him away from my building.”

  He brushes my hair back from my face. “Shh… You did great. How’d you find this guy, anyway?”

  “I have a knack for bringing bad boys into my life.” My dark humor makes him laugh.

  “I saw the video taken by a security camera across the way. Got a good look at you walloping the guy. I’m proud. You were pretty badass.”

  “Thank you.” A big smile spreads across my face, remembering how empowering it had felt to successfully defend myself. “You should have seen it, Sul. I kicked the ever-loving crap out of him. Thank God Max has been teaching me how to fight.”

  “Yeah, Max has finally proved himself to be useful,” he jokes. “Okay, Lil. You’ve got to tell me everything about this guy. We need something to go off of because he’s in the wind.”

  I tell Sully everything I remember about Charlie. What he looks like, how we met, the random things he told me about himself. Sarah, a tech, comes in and checks for skin under my nails, takes samples to test for DNA, and then takes thirty minutes’ worth of humiliating pictures of every bruise, scrape, and cut on me. Thankfully, she does her best to get through it quickly. Sully tells me bad jokes and crazy stories to try to distract me in the meantime. It doesn’t really work, but I love him for his effort.

  After Sarah leaves, Sully sits on the edge of my bed and holds my hand—a surprisingly intimate move for him. He looks me in the eye and says, “Kid, I’m going to find him and I’ll make sure he’s punished. You’ll be safe again, I swear it. We’ve got everyone on it. I actually have to get out of here now to meet up with the DC guys and get some updates. I’ll check on you later.” He gives my hand a squeeze and leaves. It’s crazy how these guys have become my family. I can’t imagine he gets this close to all his cases. I may not be lucky in love, but I’ve been very lucky in the friend department.

  When the warmth of Sully’s hand in mine has cooled, my hospital room feels empty. People have been popping in and out, wishing me well, but I know that soon I’ll be discharged and I’ll go home alone. There won’t be anyone there to wipe away the tears that’ll inevitably fall. There won’t be anyone to calm me when I wake from the nightmares I’m sure I’ll have. I miss Gavin more than I’d ever thought possible. Even so, I’ve proved tonight that what I’ve been telling Gavin all along was right: I can save myself. I don’t need him to swoop in and be my hero. But, I never thought about how painful the aftermath would be to face these monsters all by myself.

  I was a badass tonight, and I’m damn proud of myself. But does being strong and independent mean you have to be in isolation? I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so alone.

  After being in the hospital for hours, I’m ready to get out of here. It’s almost ten in the morning, I haven’t eaten since before my ordeal, and I’m exhausted. I don’t have my phone on me, so I can’t call Max. The nurses won’t say when I’ll be released. I’m moments away from walking out of the hospital on my own when Max finally comes back.

  “Hey, Slugger. How’re you holding up?”

  “Sore, but okay. I’m ready to get out of here. Can we go home?”

  He frowns and shakes his head. “Not just yet. Still waiting on the tech guys to come down. They want to try something that may be able to lift fingerprints off your skin.”

  “Max, that only works on TV. It never actually works in real life.”

  “When did you become a forensics expert?” He cups his ear. “Hmm, what’s that? You’re not? That’s what I thought. How about we leave it to the experts, okay? If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you never piss off your woman or your tech. Either can royally fuck your shit up. So I do everything I can to stay on their good side. If the man says he needs to try something, then we try something.”

  “Pearls of wisdom from Max McCarthy. I’ll have to remember that.”

  He sits down on the edge of my bed and puts on his agent face. Bad news is coming. “So, Lil, we have to talk about something. There’s no Charlie Murphy anywhere in the country that comes up matching this guy’s description. All the stuff he told you was bogus. He didn’t grow up in Iowa, didn’t go to Northeastern. It’s all a lie. We’re now thinking he was the man hired by the cartel.”

  I’m such an idiot. How did I not see that before? They send a man to investigate me, and I invite him to lunch. Brilliant, Lily.

  We’re interrupted by a knock on the door. A man wearing an FBI windbreaker comes in pushing a wheelchair.

  “Steve! I was just talking about you,” Max says. “Lily, meet Steve, the most important man at the FBI.”

  His shameless ass-kissing cracks me up. “Steve, great to meet you. I hear you’re going to CSI me.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Lily. The hospital’s given me a lab downstairs to play in. We need more space and sterilization than your room allows.” He rolls the wheelchair over to my bed. “Your chariot, milady.”

  Max gathers his bag, preparing to leave. “Alrighty then. Steve, take good care of my girl here. I’m going to go get back to work so I can catch this guy.” He shakes Steve’s hand. “Can you take her home after, or should I come back and get her?”

  “Max, my man, not to worry. I’ve got it all taken care of,” Steve answers with a smile.

  Max heads out, while Steve helps me into the chair and wheels me down the hall.

  I try to strike up conversation, but I can’t quite keep his attention. He seems distracted. I notice he keeps looking around, in a kind of twitchy way.

  “Steve, you okay back there?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. I know you’ve got some interesting people after you, so I’m trying to keep my eyes peeled.”

  I suppose the tech guys are more lab rats than field agents, so I understand his anxiety. He maneuvers us through the hospital labyrinth, bringing us to a small room with several long tables that reminds me of my high school chemistry lab.

  “So, Steve, what’s the plan? When I’ve seen them do this on TV, it’s always on a dead person, and they have to put them in a tent or something.” I turn to look at him and find a gun in my face. “Um, Steve.”

  “Shut up, Lily,” he snaps. “Just. Shut. Up.” Steve paces, pulling out his cell phone. Based on the notification sounds, the texts are back and forth rather quickly. He exhales audibly and shoves his phone back into his pocket. From the other pocket, he pulls out a small vial and sprinkles a bit of white powder from it onto his thumb.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Lorenzo had warned me not to trust anyone. I’d never imagined it would be an FBI agent to seal my fate. He has to be connected to the cartel. Game over. They’ve finally got me. Instinctively, I do what I always do when I’m backed into a corner: I talk. “Got a bit of a coke problem, do you, Steve?”

  “I told you to shut up.” He snorts the powder and then points the gun back at me. “They’ll be here for you any minute, and then I’m out.”

  “Oh, is that what they said? ‘Do this and
you’re out?’ That’s a laugh. In case you can’t tell, these guys don’t like to leave open lines of credit. How much do you owe them, Steve? How much?”

  He wipes some stray powder from his nose and rubs it on his gums. “Forty grand.”

  Dear God, who taught these guys how to run a business? They let this guy on a government salary run up a forty-thousand-dollar tab. As if he’s magically going to run into forty large one day? They gave Ash five million. Did they really think they’d ever see that money again?

  Steve continues to pace and snort. I don’t waste any more of my breath on him. He’s a dead man walking, and I think deep down he knows it. By selling me to the devil, he may have killed us both.

  About ten minutes later, the door to the room finally opens. “Hello, Lily,” Charlie says in a poorly mimicked Jack Nicholson voice. He struts over to me with a swagger I’ve never seen from him. He’s no longer the sweet farm boy I’d come to know. Nope, this is the psycho killer who’s been haunting my dreams. I take great pleasure in seeing the bruises on his face and his arm in a sling. He approaches my wheelchair and gives me a smug smirk before smacking me with the back of his hand, right across my face.

  I spit out the blood pooling in my mouth. “Wow, Charlie, that was a serious bitch slap,” I say. “If you were a chick, I’d be impressed. But you’re not, and this isn’t some 1980’s soap opera where a slap is impressive. So, I must say, kinda lame.”

  I should really keep my bravado in check. Charlie punches me right in the temple, and everything goes dark.

  Twenty-Seven

  Why can’t I have déjà vu of the best moments of my life? My tenth birthday when Billy Baxter held my hand before we played pin the tail on the donkey. The day I found out I was a National Merit Scholar and earned a free ride to school. Any of the time I’ve spent with Gavin. Why can’t I relive those moments? I guess because that’s just not how things work for me.