Wrong Number (Or Not)

by Emma Quinn

  “Ah, shit. Sorry, sir. I literally found this thing on the sidewalk.”

  “On the sidewalk? Is there a blonde woman around? Blue eyes. About five-six?”

  “Nah, mister. Sorry. I picked it up all cracked. Maybe she dropped it? Do you want to give me a return address? I can send it to you.”

  “Send it to Monteverde head office. Address it to Nathan Alexander. Thanks.”

  I hung up and made a b-line for the front door of my apartment. The entire time I’d known Dianna, she’d never once come across as clumsy. Losing her phone so carelessly like that? It couldn’t be a coincidence. The knot that my guts had tangled themselves into only exacerbated the fear rising into my chest.

  Dianna was in trouble. I needed to get to her.

  And my only clue was an address in West Adams.

  My Tesla’s autopilot took me all the way to the most rundown part of the neighborhood. The house looked like it was about to fall apart, held together with a few rusted nails and poorly supported wooden beams on the west-most wall. The front yard had been completely stripped of its lawn, replaced with gravel –no doubt for ease of maintenance. Why worry about Californian water shortages when there wasn’t any grass to water?

  There was a beat-up, ugly teal-colored Ford pickup truck parked crooked in the driveway. Patches of rust covered the upper rims of its tires. It was dented in several places, scratched up in others, and the back window had been covered over with a black plastic garbage bag. There was nothing in its tailgate save for a couple of empty beer cans, a dried leaf here or there, and a tiny puddle of rain water pooling at the edges.

  I threw a cautious glance over my shoulder. I’d double and triple checked to make sure that this was indeed the right address. I stayed in the car by the curb and watched the house for any movement, any shadows passing by curtain-drawn windows or anybody passing by on the sidewalk that might look suspicious. I saw no trace of either Dianna or Stephen. Running out of options, my only choice was to get out of the vehicle and investigate further.

  I went around back. I’d seen enough true crime television shows produced in this town to know that it was a stupid idea to go knocking on a suspect’s front door. For all I knew, Stephen was armed and dangerous. If he had a gun with him, he could easily shoot me straight through the front door’s peephole. The only advantage I had was the element of surprise, and I wasn’t going to squander it.

  The backyard was as dismal as the front. Once again, the lawn had been stripped from the property and been replaced with a cement foundation. All of the patio furniture was rickety and old, covered over with fallen leaves, candy wrappers, and dirt. There looked to be no signs of a guard dog –much to my relief– so I proceeded up the back porch with caution, crouching down as I drew closer to the window looking into the house’s kitchen.

  It was disgusting.

  Stacks of unwashed dishes remained soaking in murky water, soap suds long since dispersed. The floors were stained yellow over the years from a combination of the sun and smoking. I couldn’t make out much more past the grimy lace curtains over the window, but when I pressed my ear to the window pane, I could make out the creaking steps of somebody descending down stairs.

  “Steve, stop–”

  My eyes widened in horror. It was Dianna. The wretched feeling in my gut was right. She was in trouble. She needed my help. There was no time to think of the consequences. There wasn’t any time to dwell on what I’d done. Right now, getting her to safety was my only priority.

  I rushed over to the patio door and kicked at the door knob with all my might. The lock mechanism was so old and loose that it popped right off. Without wasting another second, I stormed inside and followed the low grumble of a man’s voice all the way to what looked to be a basement entrance. I opened the door slowly, as quietly as possible, cautious that Stephen was waiting on the other side ready to attack.

  But what I saw was much worse.

  He had his filthy hands on her. He was kissing her when she clearly didn’t want to be kissed.

  I jumped down the ten or so steps, grabbed the nearest object I could get my hands on –some sort of carved statue of a Storm Trooper– and brought down with a mighty swing. It cracked against the side of his head, the follow-through of the blow so strong that it knocked him right over, a spray of blood exploding from the side of his face.

  “Get your fucking hands off of her,” I hissed.

  I wailed on him. My knuckles connected with his face so many times I lost count. I felt nothing but rage. Disgust. Agony. It all melted into one blinding force that drove me, drowned out the rest of the world as I concentrated on beating this man’s face in until it was unrecognizable. This scumbag needed to pay. He needed to be brought to justice. And if I had to break my hands and get them dirty to accomplish that, I would.

  “Nathan,” Dianna whimpered. “Stop. He’s down. You got him.”

  I pulled away shakily. It was only then that the sting of my cracked skin hit me in full force. My wrists ached. My forearms burned. My chest was heaving so hard and so quickly I couldn’t actually breathe, like an elephant was stepping down on me, remorseless. I glared at Stephen, who was lying on the floor covered in his own blood, snot, sweat, and tears. It was better than what he deserved, but it was going to have to do for now.

  I turned and ran to Dianna, ripping the duct tape off of her ankles and her wrists with strength I didn’t know I had. She’d clearly been crying, her pretty blue eyes now red and puffy around the edges. Apart from looking terrified, she seemed to be mostly unharmed.

  I picked her up in my arms, supporting her back in one hand and lifting her just beneath her thighs with the other. She instinctively grabbed at my shirt collar, turned her face in to burry it against my chest as she sobbed.

  “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

  I hushed her gently. “It’s okay, Dianna. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

  I pressed my lips to her hair. Breathed her in. Soaked up her warmth. Held her as close as I could. It was stupid how wonderful I felt now that I was with her again. She really was my everything.

  I carried her up the stairs, all the while telling her that I loved her.

  23

  Dianna

  A

  ssault, abduction, hostage-taking, and sexual harassment. Those were all things that Stephen was later arrested and charged with. Thanks to the lawyer Nathan recommended to me, those charges were going to stick like glue. There wasn’t even the slightest chance Stephen was going to be able to worm his way out of serving time.

  Rachel gave me the rest of the month off –paid, much to my delight. Considering what happened, she knew how badly I needed a break.

  I returned with Nathan to his apartment after I told him I didn’t feel safe going to mine. Stephen knew where I lived. What if somebody else had been stalking me? Everybody in my life felt suspicious to me now, my trust in those I considered friends now cracking. I thought Stephen had been a friend, a great colleague to work with. To know that he’d been plotting to kidnap me all along had my nerves frazzled and left me sleepless.

  This was the first time I’d stepped foot into Nathan’s apartment. It was massive, maybe triple or quadruple the size of my silly studio apartment above a loud convenience store. This place was so lavish and spacious that I could easily picture it on the front cover of Archive Demonstrative Magazine. This was the lap of luxury –one that I wasn’t used to sitting on.

  “Please,” Nathan said, guiding me inside. We were holding hands like we were before everything went down, fingers threaded together and palms pressed to one another perfectly. “Make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  I took a seat on one of Nathan’s three different white leather couches in the living room, picking at beneath my fingernails as he sat down beside me. I glanced at his hands and wanted to cry. His knuckles were red and purple, bruised within an inch of his life.

/>   “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital for an x-ray?” I asked. “What if you broke a bone?”

  “The first responder checked me out before we left,” he said calmly. “I’m fine. Nothing an aspirin can’t fix.”

  “Are you sure you’re alright? What if Stephen files an assault charge against you?”

  Nathan snorted. “That fucker can try. I’ll argue self-defense. He was on you, Dianna.”

  I closed my eyes and forced the memory out of my mind. I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted one of those MIB agents to show up in real life with one of those flashy neuralyzer gadgets to wipe my brain.

  I settled for hugging Nathan. He wrapped me up tight in his arms and let me nuzzle into the crook of his neck. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It could have been mere seconds. It could have been a couple of hours. I was perfectly content to stay here with Nathan forever.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Billie.”

  “We don’t have to talk about this, Dianna.”

  “No. I think we do. I owe you an apology. I gave you such a hard time about telling the truth, but when you were telling the truth, I refused to listen. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

  Nathan kissed the center of my forehead, cupping my face gently in his hands. “Apology accepted. And I owe you an apology, too. I should have been straightforward with you about who I was. I had my reasons for being cautious, but it still shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry, too.”

  I took his hands in my and pressed his fingers to my lips. “Thank you for coming to save me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Thank you for giving me another chance. Lord knows you don’t have to give me one.”

  “Don’t worry. I want to. Just promise me one thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “No more lies.”

  Nathan nodded, fondness warming his dark brown eyes. “No more lies,” he agreed.

  I grinned at him, feeling better than I had in almost two weeks. “I love you, Nathan. More than I realized. I hope you know I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  He chuckled. “Same goes for you. I can’t picture a future where you’re not my photographer.”

  “You hate having your picture taken.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not so bad, as long as it’s you.”

  I tilted my head up and kissed him slowly, heart pounding so hard in my chest that I was sure Nathan could hear it, too. This felt right. This was comforting and wonderful and it felt like home. I was never going to make the mistake of doubting Nathan again.

  We pulled away, ever so slightly, so that Nathan could whisper, “I love you, too.”

  Nathan kissed me deeper this time, slowly and with more feeling. A warm glee filled my chest, spilled over into my skull to leave me drunker than I’d ever been. Everything about him –from the way he looked at me, to the way he kissed me, to the way he held my hands– told me that he loved me as much as any man ever could.

  We stared into each other’s eyes, happy to get lost in one another’s gaze. There wasn’t any hurry to go anywhere. We could just take a moment, enjoy a brief pause in what seemed like the most chaotic few weeks in human existence.

  “So,” he started, “you’ve got the rest of the month off, huh?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.”

  “Name a place in the world you’ve never been to.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why?’

  “Just trust me. Do you trust me?”

  I laughed. “Yes. I trust you completely.”

  “Then name a destination. Anywhere in the world. If you could close your eyes and wake up in a new city, where would it be?”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip, deep in thought. “Probably some place where they don’t serve too much shellfish. Japan’s probably out.”

  “Why’s Japan out? I thought you love shellfish.”

  I nodded, warming in the cheeks. I picked his hand up and guided it over my belly, smiling at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” I whispered.

  “What?” he asked, still completely clueless.

  “I was feeling really gross for a while there. Bloated, nauseated. I’d wake up with the worst headaches despite getting tons of sleep. On a whim, I decided to… Well, I decided to take a test.”

  I could see the gears turning inside Nathan’s head. For a smart guy, he really was dumb sometimes. It was kind of adorable to see the lightbulb go off. His mouth fell open slightly as he made the connection.

  He gasped. “You’re–”

  I nodded. “Three weeks pregnant.”

  “And I’m–”

  “And you’re the father.”

  Nathan blinked several times in a row. I thought his brain had suddenly short circuited. For a second, I was worried he was going to freak out. But then he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled me back into another hug.

  “You’re not angry?” I asked.

  “Why would I be angry? This is great, Dianna. You’re amazing!”

  “Yeah? You’re really excited about this?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Absolutely, yes.”

  I half-laughed, half-sobbed, so happy I didn’t know how to portray it on my face. I hugged him back, closing my eyes as I rested my cheek on his shoulder. Nathan was safety. Nathan was happiness. Nathan was mine.

  24

  Nathan

  I

  t helped that I owned a company that could ship anything and everything anytime. The baby wasn’t even here yet, but the third-bedroom had already been transformed into a massive nursery. We had everything we need, organized neatly on Monteverde-developed shelves that could be tucked away to keep things tidy and neat.

  We had almost two-years’ worth of diapers already. The nursery was full of cute and colorful toys designed to stimulate the child’s developing mind. The crib was actually a gift from Patty and Pops. They made it themselves in their backyard, hand carving intricate spiraling details into the wood before painting it over in a gorgeous cream white. Matty and Rachel had been going steady for several months now, so they’d combined forces to buy us a Diaper Genie and a baby changing station.

  We’d just completed an ultrasound, though Dianna and I asked to keep the baby’s gender a secret. It was killing me to find out if I was going to have a son or daughter, but the surprise we’d feel when the little one arrived was going to feel marvelous. Dianna and I’d been spending so much time trying to come up with names, but still hadn’t landed on a top ten list. We had time, though, so I wasn’t worried.

  I promised myself that I was going to be a cool dad. I wasn’t going to freak out if the kid tried driving for the first time. I wasn’t going to berate them if they came home later than they said they would. I was going to try with all my might to be the kind of man our child could look up to, someone they could come to when they were in trouble or needed advice. If Dianna could raise and bring a life into this world, it was the last I could do.

  I was waiting for Dianna at the front door, occasionally glancing at my watch to keep track of the time. I had some very important plans for today, and I’d prefer to do it before the sun went down.

  “Sweetheart,” I called to her from the entrance. “Are you ready yet?”

  “I’m coming!” she called back.

  Dianna emerged from the bedroom dressed in a red and white polka dot dress that reminded me very much of the one she wore on our date. The fabric hugged her large belly, showing off her radiance to the rest of the world. Her hair was longer, pulled up into a sleek ponytail to keep loose strands from falling before her face.

  “How do I look?” she asked, sounding a little self-conscious.

  “Beautiful as always,” I said, kissing her temple. “Ready to go?”

  “Yep. I’m good.”

  “And you brought an extra battery for your camera? You were really upset about it the
last time.”

  She patted her camera bag, full of different lenses and other accessories I still wasn’t sure how to use. Dianna had been giving me photography lessons in her spare time, but most of the information just wasn’t sticking. This evening, we were going to be heading out back to Josylnville, our hometown, to pay a visit to Patty, Pops, and the rest of the guests at the Soup Kitchen.

  “I’ve got it right here,” she said proudly.

  I grinned. “Then let’s get going.”

  It had become somewhat of a tradition for us. At least once a month, Dianna and I would make time to drive up to Josylnville to volunteer as cooks or servers –whatever Patty really needed an extra helping hand with– and work at the Soup Kitchen to feed the less fortunate. It was our way of giving back to the community despite our hectic work schedules.

  Dianna was busier than ever, working on advertising campaigns, celebrity spreads, and bigger projects that touched on the fashion industry. Since she was drawing closer and closer to her due date, Rachel expressly forbade her from taking on anymore international work for the time being.

  We don’t want the kid popping out of you mid-air, Rachel had said.

  And then there was me with my crazy schedule. Monteverde had seen a total sale’s increase of nearly two-hundred percent since the last business year, which meant the company was looking to expand across the border to Canada. We were one step closer to conquering the North American e-commerce market. With that came a ton more paperwork, business meetings, and important phone calls that I absolutely couldn’t get out of.

  Sometimes it felt like we were too ships passing in the night. When Dianna was just about to get home, I had no choice but to leave and go to work, and vice versa. Even still, we made the effort to find time to spend together. Volunteering at the Soup Kitchen was one of those ways.

  Today was a particularly special occasion. I’d been carrying this tiny little ring box in my inside jacket pocket all day. Everything had to go perfectly because Dianna deserved no less.