Saving Them

by Bry Ann

  When three days past I started to feel anger mixed with an acute sense of loss. I wouldn’t take her back this time. I was not a punching bag or a pillow she could use when she was down. She had to be there when she was happy, sad, scared, not just when it was convenient. I was done. I didn’t realize how done I was until the day I received the call. The one that took my world and spinned it on its axis.

  I was at my apartment emailing this coach from Missouri of all places. I didn’t really have an interest in leaving Mia, but I pretended to be interested in the offer. He wanted me to coach a football team down there. Apparently, some of the kids needed not only a good coach, but a mentor. A lot of them had shit fathers and made bad choices because of it. Because they never had an example or a helping hand. The coach assured me they were great kids, once you got through to them. I loved the idea of the position, but the location was way off.

  I was mid email when my phone dinged. I picked it up with an eye roll, because I hated being interrupted when I was in work mode. I put a lot of thought into what I was going to say in my professional emails, and it sucked having my train of thought interrupted. I picked it up when I saw it was Mia. I rolled my eyes, laughed and shook my head. The girl had a texting obsession, and I always received the girliest fucking texts from her. I’d never say anything, but I freaking loved it because they were all so her. She didn’t care one bit that I was a twenty something year old, football playing male.

  I slid the bar and opened the text. When I saw what was on the screen my heart became a rock in my chest. I gripped my phone tighter and stood up immediately. My dad left our family years ago and didn’t give a shit anymore. He was such a good man and then one day he met this young twenty something year old girl and just left. Didn’t even let us contact him. I thanked him for it in the end, because he made me fight to be a better fucking man than he was.

  On the screen was Mia tied on the floor, crying, and my mom had blood running down her shirt and was tied to a chair. All the air left my body. What? Why? Who? My head spun until I heard another ding from cell phone. I was scared to open it, scared of what I might see, but I did. I opened it. The text said four words.

  Alex made her choice.

  I’ve never been a particularly angry, rageful person, but fire burned through my bones reading those words. Alex ran off leaving us to the wolves. They made her choose, her or us, and she chose us. She chose to have us suffer instead of her. I wasn’t even angry about that. I was angry that she didn’t tell us. She didn’t fucking warn me! She didn’t give me a chance to fight, to do anything, because I had no fucking idea! She took the most cowardly way out possible and I hated her for it. I gave her everything I had to offer. Then for her to throw it in my face and burn it with fire.

  FUCK. HER.

  I threw my phone on the couch, so I wouldn’t break it, but I needed to do something with my hands. I clenched my fists so tight I cut off circulation. I let anger, rage and determination take over my body. I felt sick to my stomach knowing this is exactly how Alex coped with her feelings most of her life. I didn’t want to be anything like Alex but anger the only way I knew I could stay focused. To not totally lose it. Anger can be motivating.

  I grabbed my bag off the counter, threw my phone in it, some spare cash and my wallet. I had to fucking find them. I swallowed the bile in my throat. I couldn’t think about what they were going through. I just had to find them. I had to.

  I picked up my cell phone and texted back Mia’s number while I headed to my car.

  Me: Who the fuck is this? Leave my mom and sister the fuck alone.

  Them: Did Alex tell you nothing about her life?

  I growled and gripped the phone tighter; actually, afraid I might snap it and end up with no way to communicate with them.

  Me: I don’t want fucking riddles.

  Them: If you want them come get them, but I will say this. Alex made her choice, and the ones she loves will pay for it. I warned her Rex Carter.

  Me: I don’t give a shit you know my full name. Don’t use that fucking intimidation tactic on me. I want them back alive and unharmed. Alex is nothing to me. Leave my family the fuck out of your little hooker feud.

  I hated writing that. I felt awful, but I was too angry, too hurt. It was honestly how I felt in the moment. I got a simple, gut wrenching text back.

  Them: Good. Luck.

  What was this? Fucking Taken.

  “FUCK!” I yelled and slammed on my horn. “Fuck.”

  I immediately drove to a street with a lot of druggies and wannabe gangsters. I knew who this person was. I was betting it was that Peter guy, or whatever his name was. The Russian pimp Alex was associated with, the one who killed her baby. Her dad was too fucking stupid to do this, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to hurt Alex so badly that they were willing to commit a felony on a total stranger.

  I pulled up to the street, not giving a shit if these people were armed, dangerous or whatever. I wanted answers. I wanted someone who could help me. Someone who was tough enough to deal with this, but not totally heartless.

  I interviewed loads of people. I got spit on, hit, punched, nearly shot once, but I took it all, and it was worth it. I got one name from nearly everybody. Some guy named Gunner. Fitting name. They said he was on the younger said, seemingly heartless, but if I could get him to agree he was the guy who’d get the job done. That was all I needed to know. I wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d have to kill me. I thought of going to the cops, but if the cops would work against this guy, Alex would have gone to them years ago. I pretty much knew this Peter, Russian guy, was powerful and probably had a lot of connections, too many. Enough to make going to the police virtually ineffective. I’d have to find that perfectly good cop willing to risk it all for the job and that was too risky.

  “Where do I find Gunner?” I asked some guy who looked to weak too even attempt to fight me off. I told myself if he spoke I’d buy him some food. I felt like an ass for threatening this guy with my fist, but it was my mom and sisters lives on the line.

  “I…I don’t know,” the old man stuttered. I had him by this shirt. He was shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t pick on the weak guy. I’m not that man. I dropped him and let out a frustrated sigh before running my hands through my hair.

  “Please sir. My sister and mother’s lives are on the line. I’ll pay you. Just please, I need to find this Gunner guy.”

  “You don’t want to find him,” the old man whispered. “He’s a heartless bastard.”

  “That may be the case, but he’s the one I need.”

  The old man looked unsure and scared, but he shrugged his shoulders. I mean it's not like he really gave a shit about my life anyway. He needed the money. I got it. It was the right thing to do.

  “See that guy over there,” I looked over to where the guy was pointing. In the corner was this big brawny dude. Of course. “That’s TJ. He scores us the drugs here. He’s the only one with Gunner’s actual contact info. The dude doesn’t give out his business number to a lot of people. He’s a mystery. You never see him unless he wants you too. The dude’s smart and has the skill to pull off his anonymity.”

  “Thank you.” I pulled out a wad of cash. I had no idea how much. I didn’t care about the money. The dude led me in the direction of my family. I wasn’t counting. I just stuffed cash in his hand. His eyes went wide and started to water. “Spend it smart,” I warned. “Get food.”

  The old man nodded profusely and thanked me a million times as I walked away. I wish I could have done more, but there was only so much I could do.

  I walked right up to TJ. I tapped him on the shoulder. The man was intimidating. Probably about 6’3, 220lbs. I didn’t let him phase me.

  “I need to speak with Gunner.”

  The guy cocked an eyebrow and looked me up and down. “And you are?”

  “Rex.”

  “King, huh?”

  “Yes, my name means king. It’
s irrelevant,” I said trying not to act phased.

  “Why should I listen to you? You think I take fucking orders.”

  “I didn’t give a fucker order. I asked.”

  The guy continued to inspect me. He didn’t seem angry, he seemed intrigued. “Why do you want to speak with Gunner? You’re not using.”

  “No, I’m not. I need his help.”

  The guy busted out laughing. “You need Gunner’s help!” He laughed again. “Rex, because I like you and admire that you are ballsy as all hell, I’ll tell you this. Turn around. Gunner helps no one. He does his job, gets a paycheck, goes home. All business. No pleasure. No personal attachments. Leave.”

  “I can’t, and I won’t until I speak with him.”

  The guy narrowed his eyes and smirked.

  “Okay,” he pulled out his cell phone. “Only because this will be amusing as shit. Gunner’s going to be pissed.”

  “I could care less. Will he kill me?”

  “No.” TJ answered so quickly I was a little surprised. “Not unless you give him a reason too. The guys a bastard, an asshole and gives no mercy, but he’s still got something of a conscious up there. He won’t do shit unless it’s part of the job or he’s threatened.”

  Perfect.

  I hid my excitement with a curt nod. The guy whipped out his cell phone and hit one of his contacts.

  “Gunner. It’s TJ,” TJ said with a much lower tone than the one he spoke to me with. “You’re needed.” There was a pause and then TJ clicked the phone off. “He’ll be here in twenty. I warned you.”

  “That was a fast call?” I said brushing off his last comment.

  “I told you. No pleasure. No personal connections. Get to the point. All business.”

  “Okay, okay. I got it. I won’t try and befriend the guy. Geez. Thanks TJ.”

  I extended my hand and the dude did some weird slapping handshake with it before walking away. I leaned against a wall with my arms crossed over my chest, waiting for Gunner to show up. This would get interesting. I pulled out my phone and looked at the picture again. I built up my fire. Reminded myself why I was doing this.

  After fifteen or so minutes, I heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting someone’s face. I sprinted off in the direction of the noise to break up what was probably a scuffle between two very drunk, very high people. I reached a break in the sidewalk and there was a large man, with tan skin and black cargo pants beating up on some guy who looked high out of his mind. I stood in shock watching the brute force this guy used on the druggie. I intended to break it up, but it took me a second to get my wits together.

  “I told you to fucking pay. Now you will.”

  The larger man landed one more punch, grabbed what little cash and belongings the druggie had and stuck it in his side pocket. I thought he was done, but then he raised his fist again. Oh hell.

  “Hey!” I called out. The man with the cargo pants and tan skin turned to me with a cold expression. “You Gunner?”

  The man raised his eyebrows and turned away from the bleeding guy on the floor. He wiped his bloody knuckles on his shirt. I reminded myself of the picture, so I didn’t fucking shit myself.

  “What’s it to you?”

  The man stood right in front of me, trying to seem bigger than me, to intimidate me. Hell no. I stepped right up in his face.

  “I need your help.”

  “You the reason TJ fucked up my day?”

  “Yes.” Wait ‘til you see how fucked up it gets.

  “What the hell do you want? You don’t use.”

  That’s exactly what TJ said. Are these guys walking drug detectors?

  “Some took my sister and mother. I have an idea of who it is. I need you to help me get them back. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  Gunner didn’t laugh. Didn’t get angry. Didn’t even flinch. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he didn’t hear me. “I don’t save people,” he said through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

  “No.”

  Gunner spat in my face, but I didn’t care. I had taken a lot that that day.

  “I don’t save people. Read my lips you idiot.” He started to walk away but I followed him.

  “I can’t go to the cops. You’re the name I got. You need to…”

  Gunner whirled around and punched me square across the face. I’d been punched loads of times in my life, but I’d never felt a punch like that. It took every bit of my ego to stay on my feet. I could feel my face pulsing, eyes watering and blood running down my face.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “I don’t need to do shit. Take no for a fucking answer!”

  Gunner seemed truly upset, but desperation took over. I’d never even let it occur to me that he may not help. I couldn’t let myself before, but now that’s the feeling that was seeping into my bones. What if I couldn’t save them? What if they died because of a friend I made. I tear slipped down my cheek and I tried to wipe it away before Gunner saw it, but it was too late. His eyes were on me. Gunner froze. He stopped walking away from me. He didn’t look as pissed. Just frozen.

  “What’s the story?” he asked with no inflection in his voice.

  “Russian pimp has them. Long story, with details you don’t need to know about,” I remembered what TJ said about getting to the point. I could tell I made a smart move by the impressed look on Gunner’s face. “I got this picture.”

  I pulled out my phone and showed it to him, making sure to leave out the texts. I prepared myself to speak more, but Gunner held up a hand and cut me off as soon as he saw the picture. I mean instantly. It was weird.

  “What do you need from me? Why me? Why chose me for this?” he seemed almost nervous. I cleared my voice.

  “You’re the name I got. Simple as that. Everyone said you’re the man who could get the job done.”

  “True,” he muttered.

  “Okay, the guy’s name is Peter or something like that. Like the Russian version of Peter. I don’t remember the exact name. He’s holding them somewhere based on this picture. I need to get them back. I’ll do what you want. Give you want you want, but I need them back.”

  “You,” he jabbed a finger in my chest. “Will stay out of my way. I have enough to go on here. I’ll get that them back, and I only want one thing in my return. You owe me a favor. Anything I want. When I want. I don’t give a shit if it risks your life. To be fair though, I’ll never ask anything that will risk your family’s life. Just yours. That would make this whole deal pointless if I ended up getting your family killed.”

  There’s the little bit of conscious TJ mentioned I guess.

  “I can’t just stand around and…”

  “You fucking will if you want my help. Listen dude, I don’t need some punk who has no clue what they are doing and is emotionally invested in my way. You came to me. Said I can get the job done. Did you mean that or not?”

  This dude was intense and very to the point.

  “Fine.” I gritted my teeth. I swore to God if this got them killed while I was standing around, I’d find a way to kill Gunner myself. There was a look on his face that told me he knew this already though. He wasn’t fucking around, so I trusted him with the two people who meant the most to me because, honestly, I had no better options. I certainly wasn’t a better option.

  “Describe them to me. It’s hard to, uh, tell from the picture.” He cleared his throat, seemingly aware of the sensitivity of the subject.

  “Mia’s my sister, about 24. Engaged. Never takes her ring off. Straight black hair. Thin. Pale. My mom is older, looks similar. Has a very Betty Crocker vibe to her.”

  “Got it. That’s enough.”

  “Your mom has a wedding ring? They are good identifiers if it’s necessary.”

  I swallowed but stayed in control. “No.”

  “Okay.” Gunner shoved his phone in my hand. “Put your number in. If I call, answer. I will only call you again when I have them. I’m not giving fuck
ing updates while I’m on the job. After I get them you keep this number in your head. If I need you, I expect you to be there in a flash or I will make you pay me back in a way you’ll like a lot less. Trust me.”

  I trusted him on that. I think I just witnessed it earlier.

  “Last thing,” he said before he walked away, “you tell anyone I did this. You are a dead man. Got it?”

  “Understood.” And it was well understood.

  “Good. Watch your phone. I’ll contact you when I have something.”

  Then he disappeared, and I was left just having to wait for him to contact me. I had to leave the fate of my family with some criminal. Honestly, the next twelve hours were hell. I ripped my hair out. I cried. I yelled. I punched things. I stared at the picture insensately. I fought every instinct I had to go after them. I put my trust in this Gunner fellow. I didn’t want to screw that up. At the twelve hour mark I couldn’t sit around anymore. I was losing it. I tried calling Alex a few more times, no answer. Finally, my phone rang.

  “Gunner?”

  “Meet me off West and Carlyle Street.”

  Click. That was it. No answers. No nothing.

  It was nearly four in the morning and I still hadn’t changed. I had my bag packed and ready to go. I bolted out the door, grateful the street was all but empty. I sped down the street until I got to West and Carlyle. Sweat was pouring down my forehead. The anxiety and fear I felt was all consuming. I saw Gunner with his arms crossed over his chest across from a pub. I didn’t see anyone with him. My heart pounded in my chest. Hard.

  THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

  The guy looked tired. He was human after all, and it seemed as if he hadn’t stopped working since we talked, which I appreciated. Why wasn’t anyone with him? I ran out of my car and approached him. Gunner sighed when he saw me. I was endlessly grateful I wouldn’t have to deal with small talk bullshit. I knew he’d get to the point.