When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  “You follow me?” He rolls his eyes and gives me a look that tells me not to be flattered.

  “Well, if you do, you’d know I haven’t mentioned a thing yet. I have no motivation to change that. Rose Evans leads a typical normal life. She would never sit in a park with a stranger in the middle of the night freezing her ass off,” I say with a wink. “Look, I’m going to do everything I can to pretend that none of this ever happened. I want this whole ordeal to feel like a really screwed up dream.”

  “You know I have people everywhere. If you change your mind, I’ll know. And then it won’t be only you that pays that debt. Anyone I think you may have confided in will be eliminated.”

  I cringe thinking about all the people I’m putting in jeopardy by sitting here.

  He points to the parking lot. “Now go. The sooner you get back, the sooner the heat dies down. I expect nothing short of an Oscar-winning performance. Remember, your life depends on it.”

  “I suggest you get some popcorn and a box of tissues. I’m going to put on a hell of a show.”

  He chuckles again. “Goodbye, Ms. Clark. Don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t. Please don’t be offended if I say I hope to never see you again.” I walk away before he can respond, but I hear him laughing as I go.

  Thirty

  Walking back to the car, I feel a million pounds lighter. It could be the fact that I can’t feel my body from the waist down.

  Al opens the door for me when I reach the car. After I get in, I see him palm something to Lorenzo.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  Lorenzo smiles. “He bet me that you wouldn’t make it back.”

  I put my seatbelt on. “That’s really disturbing. Al, you are officially off my Christmas card list.”

  Lorenzo takes off his fur-lined coat and covers my legs with it. “I knew you would. You are far too charming for Carlos not to bend. Plus, you’re very much like his daughter. That girl has him wrapped around her finger.”

  “Well, let’s hope I can charm everyone else while I try to pull off this final part.”

  “Which is?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

  I slide my arms into the coat on my lap, hoping the soft fur will stop the frostbite from setting in. “I have to convince everyone that my kidnapping had no connection to the cartel.”

  “If you do this, then you’re no longer in his debt?”

  “Yes. Well, I’ll sort of be on probation. I’m in the clear as long as I don’t step out of line. If I break the rules, then all bets are off.”

  He pats my leg. “I have faith you’ll be able to fulfill your part of the agreement. Where shall we take you?”

  “Somewhere near the barn. Not too near because they’re looking everywhere. How far could I have walked in this amount of time?”

  Big Al turns down the heat so I can hear him chime in. “I know just the place. Just say that you escaped and ran through the battlefields until you found civilization.” Manassas is filled with Civil War battlegrounds, miles and miles of them—an easy place for a wounded girl to get lost. “I’ll drop you off, and then you’ll have to walk a mile or so until you hit a gas station. They’ll call for help for you there.”

  “Sounds dramatic. Can you turn the heat back up please?”

  Al laughs and cranks the heat back up. We sit in pleasant silence for a few minutes, enjoying the calm before the storm. We take the back way to Virginia, through the mansions of Potomac—so many people there, sleeping comfortably in their gigantic beds without the fear of execution hovering over them if they say the wrong thing. Not so long ago, I was one of them.

  Before the opportunity passes me by, I know I have to take advantage of being in close quarters with a mob boss. “Okay, gentlemen, I have to ask: What’d you think of the ending of The Sopranos?”

  Lorenzo rolls his eyes at me, but surprisingly, Big Al has some very impassioned feelings on the subject. Lorenzo and I both laugh at his rambling from the backseat until he wears himself out.

  “If I haven’t said it before, thank you, Lorenzo, for all that you have done for me. I’m truly grateful,” I say.

  “It was my pleasure. You did most of it on your own though. I was just the getaway car.”

  I nudge him with my shoulder. “I’d have probably been killed a long time ago without your watchful eyes.”

  He nods. “That’s true.”

  I had been joking, but clearly, he isn’t. I know I’m playing in the big leagues, but I still haven’t gotten used to the rules they play by. I know they won’t hesitate to kill me if they aren’t happy. I must never forget that.

  “Presuming there is a positive outcome to your performance, I suggest you make yourself scarce for a bit afterward. I’ll have time to make sure everyone stays true to their word while you get safely out of the line of fire.”

  “I was thinking of leaving the country for a little while.”

  “To be honest, I haven’t been able to figure out why you haven’t done that yet. Seems like that would have been the most sensible move. But, I try not to judge.”

  “That’s clear from your judgey tone,” I retort, getting another laugh out of him.

  Looking out the window, I can see we’re getting closer to Manassas, and I know my short reprieve is just about over. While the hardest part may be behind me, the next act isn’t going to be a picnic.

  Lorenzo turns to me and says, “You can do this. You will do this. And you will do this well.”

  I shift in my seat to better look at him. “Will I see you again? I wasn’t kidding about needing a bat signal. I can’t stand that I have no way to reach out to you, even just to see how you’re doing. This isn’t just a one-way street, you know. I care about you. So come on, a signal? We can call it the Lorenzo Lantern.”

  “I don’t think shining a light into the sky would be good for my anonymity. I’d rather not throw away a lifetime of caution as I enter the home stretch. If you stay with Mr. Edwards, I have full faith that you’ll be safe and taken care of. If you’re left to your own devices, however, I feel confident you’ll see me again soon, when you’re up to your eyeballs in trouble again. Your taste in men leaves much to be desired. You’re lucky fate has intervened on your behalf.”

  Gavin.

  We pull down a dark dirt road.

  “We’re here,” Al says.

  “Yay,” I say under my breath. I look at Lorenzo. “I guess this is it.”

  “I’ll always be here. You just won’t know it.”

  “Carlos said just about the same thing. You guys should carpool. Reduce your carbon footprint and all that.”

  He shakes his head. “I’ve never had such a sassy charge.”

  I shrug. “You call is sass. I call it moxie.”

  I lean over and hug him. “Thank you, for everything. I imagine you don’t get too many hugs in your line of work.”

  He laughs as he hugs me back. Then he pulls back to look me square in the eyes. “Stay out of trouble. And know a good thing when you see one.”

  He kisses me on the cheek as Big Al opens my door.

  “All right, Al. I need your help,” I say, getting out and circling the car. “I don’t look enough like I’ve just been beaten and traipsed through fields for hours. I know I don’t look good, but you need to freshen me up. Give me your best shot.”

  He steps back, shaking his head. “I’m not hitting a woman. You should go roll around in the field a bit. It’ll scrape you up.”

  I step forward and tug on his arm. “Nope, I need a big open wound. Something that says that a big, bad man was mean to me. I know you can do it.”

  He squares his stance, trying to look intimidating. “I’m not doing it.”

  “Al, I need this. If I don’t play the part, they won’t buy it. So come on. Suck it up and slap me.”

  BAM! He lets one rip.

  Son of a bitch, that hurt. I spit out blood and rub my jaw. “That was good, Al. Real good.” I lean my head in though
the open backseat window. “Pay up ‘Zo.”

  “What do you mean, ‘pay up’?” Al asks.

  Lorenzo hands me a twenty, laughing as hard as I’ve ever seen him laugh.

  “I bet ‘Zo that I could get you to hit me. Hope you’ve learned to never bet against me now, Al. Catch you on the flip side,” I say, smiling as I walk away from my fairy godfather. Hopefully, for the last time. I hear the car drive off behind me.

  I’m freezing again, but right now, the cold feels amazing. I know I’m alive. I take Al’s advice and roll around on the ground for a bit. I use the tall grass to scrape up my legs and the rocky soil gives me some bruises. I had already been pretty freaking dirty, so that part’s well covered now.

  Only knowing Manassas a little bit, I have a general idea of where I am but not a specific one. The longer I wander around though, the more credibility it will give my story, so I’m glad to be a little lost.

  After a while, the adrenaline wears off, and I finally feel every cut, bump, and bruise I’ve collected. I haven’t slept in over thirty-six hours. I can’t remember the last time I ate or drank. I’m getting lightheaded and dizzy. Playing the role of the victim won’t be hard.

  I’m not one for crying in public. I tend to internalize. But I can’t do that now. I need to sob like a little girl and sell my story about the man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  In the distance, I see the gas station Al mentioned and a McDonalds. The gas station would afford a bit of privacy for my scene. The jam-packed McDonald’s screams instant YouTube fame. I debate my two choices as I hobble toward them. I must do exactly what someone would do if they had been wandering the wilderness all night in the freezing cold.

  I’m suddenly overcome by the smell of coffee, hash browns and pancakes. The fast food joint is packed with some sort of high school sports team, families with toddlers, and a group from a local assisted-living facility. Get ready, America. It’s showtime!

  “HELP! Please, someone help me!” It’s supposed to be pretend, but I’m having a hard time finding my breath all of a sudden. I think I may have overdone it by running. My chest feels as though it’s being crushed.

  As I enter the restaurant, all heads turn my way. I hold myself, shivering from cold as well as fear. I see some people piecing it together.

  “Is that the missing woman from the news?” I hear someone ask.

  “Please, help me!” This isn’t make-believe anymore. Something’s actually wrong with me. Sharp pains shoot through my chest. That’s what I get for thinking of pulling off a stunt like this. Instead of feigning a problem, I now have a real one on my hands. I should have known better than to fuck with karma.

  My knees buckle and give out, and I fall like a sack of potatoes. The back of my head hits the ground hard, re-opening the wound there. A stream of warm blood pours down my neck. I hear people scurrying around me. Someone calls 911, but also News Channel Four. You can always trust the average Joe to have his priorities straight. No one tends my wounds, but I hear the constant click of cell phone cameras. For once, the tabloid-crazed media is working in my favor. And it might just kill me.

  Fighting for consciousness, I run through my story in my head. My life depends on how well I play this off, so my story has to be spot on. But my body, mind, and soul are so spent, completely drained of any energy. It hurts to breathe, and the room feels as though it’s spinning. I just want off this tilt-a-whirl.

  So I give in to the darkness…

  Thirty-One

  Gavin

  I’m in hell. For the past week in Dubai, we’ve endured a record-setting heat wave. It’s been 45°C, with over sixty percent humidity—almost 25°C higher than their record temperature in November. I’ve suffered through a week’s worth of golf outings and tennis matches that I’ve had to go to with a plastered on smile, when all I’ve wanted to do is stay in my room and drown in scotch.

  They company’s fiscal year is made or destroyed on these trips, and as CEO, it’s my responsibility to make the magic happen. This year, I’m going through the motions, but my heart isn’t in it. I haven’t spoken to Lily since I left on this trip, and I’m gutted. She’s all I think about. I can’t concentrate on work. Everyone expects me to be my typically charming self, and I just don’t have it in me.

  Only two more days until I can go home and sort things out. The trip has been grueling. Golf at dawn, meetings past sunset, black-tie dinners that go on deep into the night. While it may sound glamorous, it’s exhausting. Especially since I can’t seem to keep my mind on business.

  I spent the whole of this morning on the golf course, and now I have thirty minutes to shower, get dressed, and get downtown for the afternoon’s meetings, where I’m expected to give a speech. I wish I had time to stop and call Lily. My picture was splattered over the tabloids yesterday, and I can only imagine how upset she must be. The stories are all completely preposterous, and I hope that she trusts me enough to know that. But I honestly don’t know what she’s thinking.

  The last time we spoke, we’d had a row. A few days after, I’d gotten an email from her insisting that she needed space and asking me not to contact her. A bloody email! It has practically killed me to respect her wishes. If my mobile hadn’t been pinched at the airport at the beginning of the trip, I probably wouldn’t have had the self-control not to call her. The only time I’m near a telephone with any sort of privacy is when I’m back in my room. And with the time difference, it’s never a good time to make that call.

  After I’d seen the pictures in the tabloids, I knew I had to do something. I didn’t care what she’d said in that email! I’d sent her flowers and a letter that was probably far too emotionally charged. I had Marcus attend to it personally to make sure everything was done perfectly.

  I do my best to get ready quickly, but I’m still running late as I head out. As I’m walking through the lobby to the valet, the concierge, Nav, stops me.

  “Mr. Edwards, I have a few messages that I was asked to deliver to you personally. The American gentleman caller who left the last one said he has been leaving you voicemails at your room number and, as you have not returned his calls, he insisted I give this to you and urge you to call him back immediately. I apologize for the profanity in the message, sir. He demanded I write it word for word.”

  “Thank you, Nav,” I say, puzzled. This is the first I’ve heard about any voicemails. I hand him a tip and take the messages from him. The first is from Lily, asking me to call her, which surprises me. It’s marked urgent, and I’m instantly unsettled.

  The next is from Marcus.

  The FBI has just been here to question me about Ms. Clark. I think you should contact them as soon as possible.

  The final message is from Max.

  You limey bastard. You’d better drop what you’re doing and call me right fucking now. (202) 555-8785.

  “Nav!” I shout across the lobby. “I need a private phone straight away.”

  He takes me into his office and closes the door. I can’t dial Lily’s number fast enough.

  “Hello,” a strange, male voice answers her phone.

  “I’m looking for Lily. Is she there? Put her on, please.”

  “Sir, I’m going to have to ask your name.”

  Who does this bloke think he is? “Gavin Edwards. Who the bloody hell are you?”

  “Mr. Edwards, I’ve been told, if you called, to have you call Special Agent in Charge Max McCarthy. Do you have his number?”

  “Yes, can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “Please speak with SAC McCarthy.”

  I hang up immediately and call Max.

  “McCarthy,” Max answers.

  “Max. I just tr—”

  “Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea what’s been going on here, you selfish prick?”

  “Max, mate, pl—”

  “Don’t ‘mate’ me,” he shouts. “I can’t fucking believe you. You son of a bitch… After all the shit yo
u’ve put her through, you call now? What the hell are you thinking? You know what? I don’t have time for this. At least one of us should be focused on Lily right now. If you give two shits about her, get your ass on a plane right now. If not, go to hell and don’t come back.”

  “Max, what is going on?” I scream into the phone. “Max!” He’s already gone. This doesn’t make any sense! I try calling him back, but it goes straight to voicemail. Desperate, I call Greene and get voicemail again. Finally, I try Sully.

  “Sullivan.”

  “Sully! Please tell me what’s going on. I can’t get a hold of Lily. Max just screamed at me and hung up. I’m freaking out here, Sul. What’s going on?”

  “Jesus, Gavin. Where the hell have you been?”

  “I’ve been on a trip for weeks. Everyone knew that. Why’s this shocking everyone?”

  “G, I don’t have time to get into this. Lily’s been kidnapped. We’re pretty sure it’s the cartel. I need to get back to work. You need to get on a plane and get here. Call me when you land.”

  I stare at the phone long after he’s hung up. This can’t be happening. It’s just not possible.

  “Mr. Edwards? Can I be of service?” I hear someone talking, but the words don’t register. I never even heard the door open.

  “Mr. Edwards, are you alright?”

  I snap out of my daze and see Nav in front of me.

  “Nav…” I say, still disoriented by the news. “I need to get to Washington, DC straight away. Can you get me a flight? Charter a plane if you have to. I need to leave now.”

  “Yes, sir. I will look into it right away.”

  Lily. Missing. I try to wrap my brain around what’s happening, and my mind is flooded with horrific thoughts of what those bastards could be doing to her. I should’ve kept her safe. Now I’m on the other side of the fucking planet, and I can’t do a goddamn thing. I bolt from the office, ready to head back to my room, when I run into my team waiting in the lobby. That’s right. We’re supposed to be on our way to a meeting. I’d completely forgotten. I pull George, my second-in-command, aside.