by Nia Arthurs
But she didn’t.
For the next few days, his wife lived like a ghost in his house. She ate with him. Bid him good morning and good night. Slept in the room next door. Made small talk. But the affection in her eyes had completely gone out and in its place was pure indifference.
Trenton walked on eggshells around her, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid to bring up the elephant in the room until she brought it up first. It was exhausting pretending that their marriage hadn’t been turned on its head.
It was his fault, Trenton knew that intimately, so how did he get on the road to fixing it? How did he regain Breana’s trust when she seemed intent on tolerating him with as little emotional engagement as possible?
Clueless and desperate, Trenton went to visit his mother-in-law. On a bright weekday morning, he found Merna on a street corner playing dominoes with some rough-looking men.
“Ah!” She brightened when she saw him. “Here comes my son-in-law, boys. Look how handsome he is.”
The men rumbled their agreement, but mostly focused on their game. Trenton nodded at them and jerked his head to the car waiting on the street.
“Could I have a minute, Merna?”
“Sure thing.” She walked with him to the vehicle and got in. Her eyes looked a lot more alert than they usually did and she’d put on a little weight. He had hope that Breana’s mother would pull through this season and come out for the better.
“I need your advice,” he said.
“Go ahead.”
“Breana and I are… not in the best shape.”
“What did she do?” Merna pushed out her lip. “That girl is too stubborn for her own good. That’s why I changed the locks, you know. She can’t come running back home to hide from her problems.”
“That’s the thing. She’s not running away. Not physically.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s still talking to me and eating with me and everything, but… she doesn’t laugh or smile anymore. It’s like all the life’s gone out of her and she’s just going through the motions.”
Merna tensed and glared at him. “What did you do?”
“Well…”
“The only other time I’ve ever seen Breana lose herself like that was when that Denzel boy broke her heart.”
“What happened?”
“She’d been dating him for a year and I had never seen him before. Every time I suggested he come over or introduce himself to me, Breana made some excuse about why he couldn’t. Now that boy knew I was Breana’s mother. He grew up on the same street, but he pretended I didn’t exist. Acted as if I was invisible.”
Trenton nodded, listening keenly.
“It was the first time Breana had ever acted ashamed of me. That’s how I knew she loved that boy. It was enough to turn her back on her mother.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t—”
“Shut up until I’m done.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So one day, I decided to pay them a little visit at the park. I admit,” her voice faltered, “I wasn’t fully myself and I made a bit of a spectacle, but it was how that Denzel reacted that cinched it for me. Breana was losing her mind with embarrassment and instead of being there for her, he made an excuse to leave. I heard he broke up with her the next day.”
“She never told me all that.”
“That’s when she started moping around the house, talking about how she would never love again. And she kept that promise too. Until she met you.”
“I know I messed up. What should I do to fix this?”
Merna sighed. “There’s not much you can do when she’s in that mode. Keep on loving her. Keep on being there for her. Hopefully, she’ll see that you’re still invested and return to you.”
“Thank you.”
Merna peered closely at him. “What did you do?”
Unwilling to discuss such a private matter, especially if Breana hadn’t run to her mother first, he decided not to dive into the details of his sordid mistake.
“I’ll explain later. I have to get to work now, Merna, but thanks for the advice.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just be good to my daughter. I know some bad men, Trenton. Don’t let me turn the other way with you.”
He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”
Merna hopped out of his car and he drove back to work, mulling over her advice. He’d spent weeks building Breana’s trust in him only to have a thirty minute tryst wreck it all. He shouldn’t have entertained that girl in the elevator. Shouldn’t have looked her way.
“Breana,” he moaned into the cab of the vehicle, “what do I have to do to get you to trust me?”
Predictability…
He had failed to be reliable then, but he refused to believe that this marriage was over. Trenton would double his efforts to be there for her, to love her, to cherish her even if it felt like she’d resurrected her walls and fortified them with steel.
The car slowed to a stop in his designated parking spot and he looked up at the office that held his family’s company. His life felt so hollow now that he and Breana were disconnected. She had completely wrecked his life. Things would never be the same.
Wearily, Trenton walked into the foyer, boarded the elevator, and strode into his office. Jamison met him before he’d even fully settled into his chair.
“Why do I feel like you’re about to say something that will ruin my day?” Trenton groaned.
“Sir, I’m afraid Lorde Industries… is being sued.”
“What?”
“Here.” Jamison handed him a tablet. Trenton skimmed the details of the document and sputtered.
“What environmental violations? I made certain to comply with every guideline in the Belize Sustainability handbook because I knew Camal would try to pull something like this.”
“It’s not for this project,” Jamison said, his dead-pan expression alive and well. “It’s for the one your grandfather did… sixty years ago.”
“What?”
“The first house he ever built was an inch over the property line for a redwood reserve.”
“Pops already told me the story. The reserve was fully recognized after he’d completed the project. The government absolved him of any legal involvement.”
“It’s a hollow threat,” Jamison agreed. “But George Camal is too calculating to throw a grenade that won’t go off.”
“I agree. Call the lawyer and…”
The sudden smack of the door being flung against the wall caused both men to jump—though Jamison did so in a much more contained fashion. A security guard darted into the room, his eyes wide and his dark face flushed with worry.
“Mr. Lorde, sir, um… there’s a bit of a problem downstairs.”
“What are you talking about?” Jamison asked, stepping forward.
“Sir,” the security wrung his hands, “look out your window.”
Trenton got up and walked to the window overlooking the street. He saw two large school busses spitting out a never-ending flow of Belizeans holding signs. Trenton was too far up to know what the posters read, but he had a feeling…
“Camal,” Trenton and his assistant said as one.
Someone at the front of the crowd pulled the switch on her megaphone and aimed the amplifier up at his office.
“Mr. Trenton Lorde, we of the Environmental Society of the Redwood Reserve hereby find you and your company guilty of murder!”
The crowd booed.
Trenton looked over at Jamison. “Is this really happening?”
“Lorde Industries was founded in the blood of redwood trees and we will not stop until the company pays for its crimes!”
“You must pay! You must pay!” The crowd shouted.
Jamison turned to the security guard, his hand slicing the air as he spoke. “Call the police, and don’t let them enter the building.”
“Yes, sir.” The security guard scurried out of the room.
“This will be a news circus. The stocks will
fall and the public approval will plummet if we don’t get a handle on the press.” Jamison sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I do not need this right now,” Trenton groaned. His cell phone rang and he absently put the device to his ear, straining to hear the caller over the roar of the protesters outside.
“Trenton,” he heard a whispered voice in his ear, “Trenton Lorde?”
“What? What do you want?” he snapped.
“My name is Christa. I’m the secretary at your wife’s office.”
Trenton stiffened and gripped the phone tighter, every nerve at attention. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this—” He heard a crash in the background and the sound of a muted scream. Christa came back on the line, her voice shaky and breathless.
“What? What is it!” he yelled. “What happened to Breana?”
“She’s in danger,” Christa said. “You need to get down here. Now!”
Chapter 25
₪₪₪₪₪₪
Breana huddled beneath her desk as the man in the black mask pointed a gun at Cady’s head. Fear climbed up her throat and rendered her immobile. This couldn’t be real! If she shook her head, she was sure she’d wake up in bed to find it all a dream.
“Where is it?” the man in the mask roared. Breana startled, her bones starting a new rhythm of trembling. This was no dream.
If she had known the day would take such a turn, Breana would have stayed home. Clueless, she’d gotten dressed this morning and took the bus to work as she did everyday.
She’d been especially quiet—thanks to the drama with Trenton, while Melissa had been especially loud—as per her personality. The girls bantered a bit until Breana’s mood made conversation unpleasant.
Cady walked in as usual, dropping a line about how romantic Juan was and how long they’d talked on the phone last night. Breana, as usual, rolled her eyes and tried to focus on her work.
The office soon settled into the groove of a Wednesday morning cycle of typing, research, and preparation. Breana was just about to head to the kitchen for a cup of water, when the elevator doors opened.
Everything moved rather quickly after that as a gang of five men with black bandanas over their faces, caps on their heads, and bulky black clothes covering their bodies burst through the halls.
Gun shots fired into the air. Women screamed. Ducked their heads. Crawled for the exits. A few got away, but Melissa, Cady, Breana, and Nikki—one of the workers—were stuck and at the mercy of the gang.
“Where is it? Where is it? You can’t keep asking that. What is it?” Cady demanded, drawing Breana’s attention back to the unraveling showdown. Her boss’s irritation was a bit cavalier given the position they were in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Are you Cady Marie Barrington? Guest of the Marinta Hotel for seven days. Student of Juan Martinez at the Salsa and Chips dance studio?”
Cady blinked. “That was strangely specific—”
“ARE YOU OR NOT!” The man shook her shoulders until Cady bawled in pain.
“Okay! Okay!” She breathed deeply, her disheveled hair falling in front of her eyes. “Yes, that’s me!”
One of the gang members nudged the man holding Cady at gunpoint and nodded to a picture on his phone. Breana craned her neck and saw that it was a photo of Cady taken at the beach. A handsome man smiled up at the camera beside her.
Juan was hot, but that was probably not a thought she should be entertaining in this situation.
“Where is the necklace?”
“The necklace?” Cady whimpered.
As the drama unfolded, Breana’s wits returned to her. There were four women in the office and five gang members terrorizing them. She was sure the police were on their way by now. All they had to do was lay low and not instigate the criminals.
At that moment, she heard a thump and a shout.
“OW!” The man pointing his gun at Cady sank to his knees, holding his groin.
“Leave me alone!” Cady screamed as the other men held her squirming body and pinned her to the wall. “You’re all going to jail!”
The man writhed on the ground and the tenseness in the air amplified. Great. So they were all screwed now…
Someone pounded on the door.
“Who is that?” the men murmured amongst themselves.
“My name is Richard Fielder. I’m with the Belize City police force,” a voice yelled. “Let the women go and we’ll talk!”
The leader of the gang managed to get to his feet and waved towards the women huddled beneath the desks. “Tie them up. Things just got messy.”
“No!” Breana screamed as the men hauled her up by the arms. “Let me go!”
“Breana!” A familiar tone rumbled through the door. “Breana!”
“Trenton!” Tears cropped up in her eyes as relief poured through her body at the sound of his voice. She was angry and disappointed in him, but her heart couldn’t shut off how much it cared.
“Hurry!” The man with the gun yelled.
The women were roughly tied together while Cady cried and squirmed as she was held against the wall.
“Hey, Miguel,” one of the crew addressed the man who’d been totaled in the privates, “what do we do now?”
“We need the necklace,” Miguel spat. “Then we use the hostages to get out of here alive.”
“Open up and let’s talk this through,” Richard yelled. “We’re clearing the building. So just send out the women and we’ll discuss this civilly.”
“Keep the doors locked,” Miguel snapped and then turned to Cady. “Just hand over the necklace and nobody has to get hurt.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Liar!”
Cady whimpered and turned her face away. “What’s the big deal with the necklace anyway? If you want money, my dad will wire any number you ask directly into your account. Just let me live!”
“Cady!” Breana hissed.
“That necklace is way more valuable than anything your father can give.”
“What’s the big deal?” Cady asked.
“Shut up,” Breana groaned. Cady was the mouthiest hostage she’d ever met. Didn’t her boss watch movies? The mouthy one always died first.
“You really want to know?” Breana saw Miguel’s eyes light up and figured he was smiling beneath the mask. “My boss’s drugs,” he said proudly. “They’re locked into each of the jade squares.”
“What?” Cady laughed. “You’re insane.”
“They’re tiny little packets,” Miguel said. “Didn’t you wonder why the necklace was so heavy?”
“Let the women go!” the officer tried again. Breana wished Richard would find some other way to negotiate with Miguel and his crew. Every time that shrilly voice spoke, it seemed to make them angrier.
“Look,” Cady wiped her hands against her pants, “if you really expect me to believe you, I’ll need more proof than that. Why on earth would Juan have a necklace full of drugs? He was a salsa instructor for goodness sakes.”
Miguel chuckled. “Women are so stupid.” The rest of his crew laughed along while Melissa and Breana glared at them. “Juan was playing you, mamacita.”
“You’re lying.”
“Hey,” Miguel wiggled his finger in Cady’s face, “weren’t you the woman on the run with him down at Playa de los Muertos?”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s the last time we saw him, mami. He’s done this stunt before, and always with a new woman.”
“You mean…” Cady paled. “You mean we weren’t just playing a fun game? We were running from you?”
“You see now?” Miguel said. “Juan is nobody to defend. Just tell us where the necklace is and we’ll leave. Nobody has to get hurt.”
“I-It’s not here.”
“Where is it?” Miguel said through gritted teeth.
“Wait,” Cady lifted her chin, “how do I know that you’re telling
the truth?”
“For the love of—just give them the necklace, Cady!” Breana yelled. “Do you really think they’d go to all this effort for nothing?”
“That one,” Miguel pointed the gun at her, “that one is smart.”
Trembling, Breana curled up her legs and tried to make herself as small as possible. Speaking out had been a bad choice. Now she was on their radar. Melissa and Nikki shared frightened gazes and kept their heads down.
“Why do you keep defending him?” Miguel asked, drawing his gun down Cady’s chin. “When was the last time you heard from him?”
“Well…”
“Last night!” Nikki blurted and then slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Really?”
“Actually,” Cady stared guiltily at her fingers, “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the necklace. I was just too ashamed, and I didn’t want you guys to know about it.”
“Oh, Cady, it’s okay,” Melissa cooed.
“Shut up.” One of the crew poked her with a ruler he swiped off the desk. Melissa pouted, but remained silent.
“See,” Miguel frowned, “you’re making things far more complicated than they need to be.”
Cady sniffed and Breana figured that it had little to do with her present danger and more to do with her heartbreak.
Miguel rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid I’m starting to lose my patience. We’ve already told you too much. Maybe you’ll start taking us seriously if we drop some bodies.” Miguel leveled the gun at Breana’s head.
“Tell him, Cady!” Breana yelled, her heart quivering and her life parading before her eyes. “Tell him where it is!”
“It’s at home! It’s not here!”
“Liar!” Miguel kicked a desk and it went flying into the wall. “I was told you wear it all the time.”
Cady shook her head as tears poured down her face. Miguel’s face, the little she could see through the cap and mask, reddened. He waved the gun at Breana and shouted so that spittle flew from his mouth.
“I guess you’re not taking me seriously. Untie her!” Miguel waited until the crew obeyed. “Her death is on you!” He aimed and pulled the trigger.