by Ashley Munoz
Then, without looking back, I pushed towards the girls’ bathroom. I pushed the door open and found Jasmine washing her face, but it didn’t help get rid of the pink streaks on her forehead and down her cheeks. I crouched in front of her until I was at her eye level. She sniffed, then threw her arms around me and started crying into my shoulder. I let her cry until she whispered with a shaky breath, “Ramsey is moving.”
Her silent sobs started back up again. I hugged her tight, swallowing the pain that was trying to make its way up my throat. I didn’t know all the details, but I needed to get them from Ramsey. She couldn’t leave. Half my brain said it was okay, it’s not what it sounds like; the other half screamed at me that it was too late and that I was losing her.
I took the corner to Ramsey's street a little faster than I probably needed to, the realization that Ramsey was told I was still married hit me again and I pushed harder on the gas. I had so much to clear up with her, to make right. I pulled up to the curb in front of the house and saw Ramsey’s car was parked in the driveway, which meant she was home. I noticed a small blue car on the curb ahead of me; it was slightly close to their house and I wondered if they had company. Relieved that she was here, I let out a small sigh and helped the kids out of the car. Dad pulled my arm gently until I was facing him. His eyes were drawn together, and his lips were thin—he looked concerned.
“You going to tell me what's going on yet? I know something's up, something has been up, but I’ve just been waiting for you to talk to me.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, Dad, I will clear things up with both you and Ramsey at the same time. Let's get the kids inside.”
I grabbed Jasmine again and Dad held Sammy’s, and we started walking to the door when I noticed Ramsey’s purse on the ground in front of her house. I bent to pick it up and noticed her wallet and cell phone was all still intact. My heart rate surged as panic filled my lungs. I wasn't ready to admit that this meant anything. Nothing was wrong, she was fine. She just dropped it and I needed to get inside. I knocked and, after a few moments, an older lady wearing pink medical scrubs answered the door. My gut twisted as the reminder of missing out on Ramsey's life and Carla's hit full-force. I realized the nurse was waiting for someone to explain why we were on the doorstep.
“Hi, we are looking for Ramsey, is she here?” I asked.
The nurse’s face changed to a relaxed expression. “Not yet. We saw her car in the driveway, but she hasn't come in yet.”
I looked down, and quietly responded to the nurse, “Well, I’m Jimmy. A family friend, as is my Dad, Theo. Can we come inside?” The nurse looked back towards the living room and with a panicked look. She probably wasn't supposed to let me in. Shit.
“I'm not supposed to let you in unless Carla says so, but...” She trailed off, looking back towards the living room again, then down at her watch.
“Her daughter was supposed to be here and relieve me from my shift. I have to go and pick up my granddaughter from dance lessons,” she finished in a rush while moving aside to grant us access. I smiled at her in thanks as we went in. My eyes darted around the room, trying to think, to get a plan.
I was on autopilot as I turned to look back at Dad, and asked, “When did you say she dropped Jasmine off?”
Dad looked at his watch and then back at me. “She dropped her right before three, then left. She was driving the SUV.”
We walked in, and I noticed a variety of medical machines set up in the living room, all hooked up to a sleeping Carla. Dad walked over to where Carla lay and knelt down next to her. I ignored him, and kept heading towards Ramsey’s room. Her door was open, her bed was still made, her room picked up and tidy, but it was empty. I walked further in and checked her bathroom too, then walked through the rest of the house and checked the backyard. She wasn’t anywhere. Something was wrong, I could feel it.
I told the nurse to go home, and assured her that we would stay with Carla until Ramsey showed up. I showed her a few pictures of Ramsey with the kids to help her feel better about leaving. She could lose her job and was reluctant to leave, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was panicked and needed to leave. I had ordered pizza, knowing the kids needed fed, but my mind was still on overdrive about where Ramsey was. My only thought kept circling back to it having something to with Davis.
Dad was at Carla’s side, feeling her head and watching the monitors that she was hooked up to. Sammy didn’t seem fazed by what was going on, but Jasmine looked worried. She finished her bite and drank some of her soda. “Do you think Ramsey’s okay, Dad?”
I smiled at her but had to get past the lump of worry in my throat. “I sure hope so, sis.”
She looked down at her pizza. “Do you think, because I was so upset, that she ran away or something?”
Her words were like ice water thrown in my face; she felt like it was her fault. Again.
I turned toward her and wrapped her in a hug. “No, baby. Ramsey wouldn’t just leave. I think if she could be here, then she would be. We might need to call the police to be sure she’s okay, but it’s not your fault, sis. Ramsey loves you, she’d never do anything to hurt you.”
Jasmine nodded her head and continued eating her pizza.
Knowing the police wouldn't do anything until after twenty-four hours, I was hesitant to call them. Until I had any proof that Davis was involved, I didn't want to distract Gepsy from his case. I just needed a second or two to form a plan on what to do. I walked over to my dad, noticing that he had made himself comfortable on the couch next to Carla, and was flipping through channels. I knew it was time for me to come clean about what was going on, and why we came here instead of our house. I ran a hand over my face.
“Dad I think we need to talk,” I said quietly as he settled on some football. He looked over at me, and just nodded his head for me to continue. I sat back and started at the beginning.
“Dad, I haven't been totally honest with you. I have been trying to find Lisa for a few years, with a PI." Dad turned towards me, his face scrunched with disapproval.
"Why would you try to find her?" I could tell that he was trying to control his anger.
I let out a tight breath. "It's something I had to do. I needed closure and assurance that she wouldn't try to come back.
Dad watched me, his face set and his arms crossed. “Okay. I understand, what does that have to do with this?"
"My PI couldn't find her. I reached out to the Mazzaratis.” Dad’s head flung in my direction, his face lethal.
“Son, you didn’t?” He breathed the question out.
I looked down at my hands, trying to hide my shame. I slammed my eyes shut and kept going. “I didn't think they'd leak it back to Davis. As far as I knew, they weren't exactly in contact anymore. Besides, it wasn't anyone directly, just a PI that was a member." I watched my Dad breathe slowly, but his face was turning red. I hoped he didn’t make a scene in front of Carla. She was sleeping, which I was grateful for, but once she woke up, she would be asking questions about Ramsey.
Dad asked quietly, “So, let me guess. Suddenly Davis reached out and said your time was up?”
I swallowed down the embarrassment and just decided to answer straight-on, no excuses.
“Yeah… demanded a meeting.”
Dad nodded his head in understanding. "And what exactly was his first job for you?"
I looked down at the carpet, not wanting to face this truth. Face that I was back in the viper’s nest. “The use of my company truck to move product for two weeks.”
We were both quiet. “Did you finish things with Lisa?” he asked solemnly.
“Yes, she signed papers, and knows that she can never come back.”
Dad shook his head in agreement. “So, is Davis the reason why I couldn't stay at the bar, and why we can’t go home?”
I nodded my head again. “Rav warned me that Davis thought I might have tried something after my meeting with Lisa.”
Dad slowly turned his
head towards me, his eyes wide. In a firm and very slow tone, he pinned me with a glare and said, “Son, if that’s the case, then he knows about Ramsey, and likely has her.”
My heart rate shot through the roof, anger lacing my words, “Why?"
I hated that he was jumping to the worst possible conclusion, but his history with Davis had me worried. Dad stood up and started pacing the living room then yelled, “Get Gepsy on the phone now, Jimmy!”
“Dad, you need to tell me why you think that!” I stood and yelled back. I winced a bit at my volume and glanced over at Carla. I saw that she was still out thanks to the meds.
Dad hung his head and, in a softer tone, continued, “Jimmy, several years ago, we had an informant try to rat us out to the cops. We were real clever about catching him and then exploiting him. We used our tech guys to scan through security footage for all the places the guy went for weeks. Grocery stores, church, gym, work, favorite food spots. We combed through everything to find the informant he had met with.” He looked at Carla then back at the kids and continued, “We uncovered more than the face of his informant. We found out he was married and had kids. Davis took his wife, killed her, and sent back her wedding finger as a reminder to never double-cross him again.”
He trailed off, letting me connect the dots. The dots of this pathetic situation that clearly painted that it wouldn’t take much digging for Davis to find Ramsey. All my stupid effort to keep her safe was undone, and now I may lose her. I grabbed my phone, and just as I was about to dial Gepsy, I had an incoming call from Rav.
“Hello?” I answered, a bit more frantic than I would have liked.
Rav responded in a quiet tone. “Boss, we have a problem…” Then, with a rushed breath, he said, “It’s Ramsey.”
There was a buzzing sound near my head.
It was like falling asleep on a summer afternoon but having that one fly that wouldn't leave you in peace. Except I knew it wasn’t summer, and I knew I wasn’t taking a relaxing nap.
I slowly opened my eyes to find the source of the buzzing. Everything was blurry, and pain sliced through my head as I tried to move it. My body hurt, everywhere.
I blinked, trying to recall the last time I was awake. The memory of a man with a leather vest and baseball bat came back like a nightmare. I looked around and noticed a small light in the corner of the room, sitting without a lamp shade. It was on the floor, like me. Then a little black fly buzzed past my head—source of buzzing noise found and confirmed. At least it was proof of something living in this cold, miserable place.
I looked down and saw a ratty mattress with bloodstains on it, and I held back the urge to vomit. I tried to get up, but all my attempts resulted in more pain. My body was cold. I managed to feel my left arm with my right hand, and it was freezing. I slowly moved my hand up to my face, and let my fingers discover what condition it was in. As soon as I touched the surface, I winced. I could feel that my bottom lip was larger than it should be, there was a large cut in it, and what felt like dried blood on my chin. My fingers moved up to my nose, and my eyes began to water as I gently touched it. I moved on to my eyes; my left eye wasn’t opening as much as my right one, and I could feel swelling, but I couldn’t apply enough pressure to really discover anything else. My conclusion was that my face was a hot mess.
I knew all my fingers were in place on my right hand, and I slowly moved to feel my left hand, which was numb. Lowering my face or moving my neck resulted in waves of pain that I wasn’t brave enough to endure, so I used my fingers to feel the rest of the way. There were cuts on my left hand, and swelling in my fingers; they were all there, but any pressure at all from that hand resulted in blinding pain. Just that small movement had exhausted me. I was thirsty and hungry, freezing, and my whole body was aching. I couldn't remember much after I was knocked out, and I didn’t know how long I had been in this place, or if anything else happened. Horrified at the idea of what else could happen to me, I tried to look down at my legs. I moved my hips; they didn’t hurt, and I could feel my pants and underwear still in place, nothing hurt down there. Relief flooded me. I knew that I needed to take care of my body, I just didn’t know how to. I laid there and thought of my mom, and wondered if she was okay. I wondered what her nurse did once she knew that I wasn’t coming. Surely, she wouldn't just leave my mom. I tried to exhale, I knew that the service wouldn’t let my mom be alone, someone would be called. Hoping that my mother was too drugged to notice that I hadn’t returned was a sad reality I found myself in. I didn’t want her to worry, and since I knew that she would, the only thing I could hope for were that the drugs would last and be effective.
I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing, focusing on getting out. I tried to gather what information I could from what I remembered.
I knew that I had been kidnapped with something like a needle to my neck. I knew that it was most likely a motorcycle gang that was holding me. I knew that they were violent, and somehow had a bone to pick with Jimmy. They assumed Jimmy and I were close, and that by taking me, it would get back at him. That was all I had to go on for now. I didn’t know what I would do with it but having some kind of information felt like a form of armor.
I was going through the details of what physical attributes I could remember about the men when I heard a door open somewhere in the room. I froze. I wanted to shut my eyes, but I didn’t want to miss what was going to happen next. I needed food, and some kind of blanket, and more than anything, some water, so my eyes stayed open, just in case whoever entered wasn’t there to further hurt me. I saw a shadow move across the room, and then a shape come into focus. A tall man with a bald head was coming towards me, but in measured, small steps, like he was trying to be quiet. As the man got closer to me, I recognized him. It was Rav. I was so happy that I started to cry, which hurt like a mother, and I immediately tried to stop. I moved as much as I could to sit up, which ended up just being an elbow propped up behind me. Rav came close, and started to whisper to me, “Ramsey, don’t say anything.”
He looked over his shoulder, then back down at my face. He gently cradled my head to the side and made a face at what he saw. Rav looked like he just ate a bunch of spoiled grapes, and from what I felt with my fingers, I assumed what he saw wasn’t good.
“Ramsey, I’m so sorry.” He gently brushed my hair off my face with warm fingers. I leaned into his touch, responding to the warmth more than anything else. I stayed quiet like he said, but he needed to start talking, and soon.
As if he read my mind, he began to explain in a light whisper, “Ramsey, I want to get you out, but we have to wait for help to get here. I called Jimmy. He will know who to call. I can’t just call the local cops, a number of them are in Davis’ pocket. But the guy Jimmy is working with isn’t, and I know he’s building a case against these guys.”
I didn't want to wait. I wanted out, I needed to get out. I tried to speak, and tell Rav this, but my voice wouldn't work. I grabbed on to Rav's shirt with my good hand, to try and get him to feel my urgency.
"Please," I whispered.
Rav's eyes glossed over, then he turned his head away. I had to try again.
“Rav, you can do it. You can get me out. We can't wait. I can't...” I sobbed, needing him to try, but he shook his head. I suppressed the tears that threatened to fall. It hurt, and I didn't want to hurt anymore. He wasn't going to get me out, and it wasn't worth it to waste my energy trying to convince him. I didn't have any fight left in me.
He pulled a blanket from behind his back and laid it over me, then pulled out a clear, plastic water bottle. He opened the top and helped me lean up to drink. It was awkward and painful, but I managed to get a few gulps down. I hurt, but I also felt better. I pulled the blanket up closer to my chin. I had so many questions, but I was so tired. Rav had a pained look on his face, and he was gently stroking my hair again,
“Ramsey, I would give you food, but your lips and mouth were busted up pretty badly. I think we should wait for you t
o get medical help.”
He looked away, and I could be wrong, but his eyes looked watery. I heard him swear and then he turned back to me. “I don’t want to know the person Jimmy will become after he sees what they did to you,” he whispered quietly, while carefully touching one of the cuts on my face.
I considered his words and winced in a completely different kind of pain. I didn’t want Jimmy to hate himself, or to change. I knew why he did it now—stayed away from me, everything; it was to protect me from this. I felt so little, so exposed, and so angry that his attempts had failed. I was angry that I had been hurt and abused, angry that people like these men existed and were allowed to be a part of society. Then, like a gentle pebble settling into the rough ocean, I realized that Jimmy used to be one of them. It was like looking in the mirror and seeing for the first time, what everyone else saw. Jimmy’s past—there was so much I didn’t know about it, so much I didn’t know about him. I felt like a fool for allowing myself to get so emotionally dependent and involved with someone I barely knew. Sure, I pushed for friendship, I did try, but by then, I was long gone. Jimmy already had my heart.
Now, I didn’t know if I could ever get that part of me back.
“Rav, can you tell me a story or something and distract me? I'm terrified, and if you aren't going to help get me out, then I need something to distract me from this pain.” I pulled the blanket higher. I was cold, and my body was shaking.
Rav situated his body, his face clouded. Rav had pretty brown eyes and right now, they were focused on me as he seemed to fight some internal battle. Like he didn't know how to help me, or what to do. Finally, he leaned closer to me.
"Did I ever tell you how I met Jimmy?" he asked in a whimsical tone.
I shook my head while staring at the blank wall. Rav smiled and his brown eyes lit up.
"Jimmy was working with my brother, Evan. Evan was a prick. Jimmy was supposed to rig a fight that the Brass put together. Instead of just beating the guy, he was supposed to kill him. It was going to start this war between clubs, but Jimmy wouldn't do it. I respected him for telling Davis no. Evan planned to break Jimmy's ribs before he entered the fighting ring, to teach him a lesson. I didn't know Jimmy, but I found him and warned him. After the fight, Jimmy found me and told me that I saved his life and that because of me, he would get to go home and see his new baby."