by Mel LeBrun
Michael wrapped his other arm around her and held her close. “I'm sorry.” He closed his eyes as she wept in his arms. He was filled with anger and disgust over how she had been treated by both her parents and her heartless boyfriend.
“I ran away after,” she continued. “I couldn't go back. I couldn't face him in school. Couldn't tell my parents. My dad would've probably blamed me and my mother would have done nothing. I wanted to disappear.
I lived on the streets. I managed to stay away from the pimps and dealers, but it was hard to find food. I was afraid to go to any soup kitchens or homeless shelters because I feared they would send me back. I would never go back. Eventually my bad diet and lack of shelter and hygiene took its toll on me. I got very sick. I was lying in an alley, starving, dehydrated. I was achy with a high fever, almost delirious. I couldn't even lift my arms I was so weak. I thought I was going to die in that alley and I was glad. I didn't want to live any more.” Her mind seemed far away as she spoke.
“I looked up and saw this guy standing over me. I remember thinking, 'Can't I just die in peace?' He knelt down and touched my forehead. He said I needed to be in a hospital and that he was going to call for help. With every ounce of strength I had, I pleaded with him to let me die, I wouldn't go back. Then I passed out. When I woke, I was lying in a bed. At first, I thought I was in a hospital but when I looked around I could tell I was in someone's house. I was still so weak I could barely move. Then that guy walked in the bedroom with a glass of Gatorade and some crackers. He forced me to eat and drink before I passed out again. The next few days all I remember is him waking me to force crackers and Gatorade down my throat and being carried to the bathroom every so often. I don't remember how many days went by. I was in and out of consciousness.
I woke one day feeling much better. It was light out and I could hear a TV in the other room. I was still very weak, but I climbed out of bed and made my way into the other room. The guy was sitting on the couch watching TV. There was a pillow and some blankets next to him. He must have been sleeping on the couch. He saw me and smiled, then asked how I was feeling. I asked him why he didn't bring me to a hospital. He said he didn't know what I was running from, but it must be pretty terrible for me to want to die. He said he would help me if I wanted. He let me live with him on the condition that I home schooled. He said if I was going to have a life, I needed to have an education. He took me in,” she said as she looked up at Michael.
Michael wanted to meet this man and give him a medal. “He sounds like a good man.”
“He is.” She smiled.
“I have a clearer picture now of where your distrust of men comes from. I don't blame you. You've had some terrible experiences.”
“I trust you.” She looked up at him.
He smiled then reached out and took her hand. “Promise me something. Next time you find yourself in a situation, and you see no way out. I want you to fight like hell.” He looked in her eyes. “Fight like hell.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
Michael suggested they get some rest before they go out to get the laptop, so they moved to the bedroom. They rested in each others arms until they both dozed off.
IT WAS dark when Michael woke. The alarm clock read 1:23 a.m. He had slept for quite a while. Jessica was still sound asleep beside him. He lay looking up at the ceiling pondering over recent events. How Jessica had come to be in his life and how she went from being a captive to a friend and romantic interest. He couldn't wrap his head around it. It was all just so crazy, he thought. And her life story was just awful. This poor girl had been through so much and now she was being hunted. He had to put an end to it. She was a survivor and he knew she could handle life on the run, but he didn't want her to. She had made a life for herself and he wanted her to have that back.
He didn't relish the thought of going back to Jessica's apartment. Especially since he needed her to get into the safe. It was risky and he didn't want them to die over a laptop. But this could be the break he'd been looking for. It was worth it if they could end this. They would just have to be careful.
He turned toward Jessica, propping himself up on one elbow. He gently stroked her hair and caressed her face. She sighed and started to stir. She looked at him, then moaned and buried her face in the pillow.
“Come on. Get up.” He turned on the light.
She moaned again, but sat up this time. Michael started getting dressed as she walked to the bathroom. He was ready, sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned.
“Someone's in a hurry,” she remarked.
“I want to get this over with.”
MICHAEL PARKED a few streets behind Jessica's building, leaving her in the truck while he scouted ahead. She wasn't thrilled about being left alone in the dark, but Michael returned a short time later.
“The coast is clear until we get to the street behind your apartment building. I see at least one person watching the back door. He looks sleepy, he's not doing a very good job. I think we can slip by. I'm guessing they also have one or two watching the front. We'll try to slip in the back though. I'd rather they didn't know we came here. They will know we're still in the area and they'll focus more of their attention on the surrounding areas. They could find us. Stick close to me and try to stay out of the light.”
Jessica was nervous, but trusted Michael to watch out for her. They stuck to the shadows and soon were looking at her back door. The guy watching the back was passed out with his head back. They'd been watching the apartment too long and figured she wasn't coming back. They let their guard down. Amateurs, Michael thought. They dashed through the back door of the building and walked silently to her apartment door. Michael picked the lock again since they didn't have her keys. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and they made their way to her office.
They rolled back the rug revealing a trap door. Inside was the safe. Michael shined his light on the safe as she entered the combination and then pressed her thumb on the scanner. The safe clicked and she opened the lid. Inside was a laptop bag, a portable drive and a small envelope with “Insurance” written in Russian on it.
“What's with the Russian?” he asked.
“How did you know that was Russian?” she looked at him.
“I speak Russian,” he answered.
“You speak Russian and Mandarin?”
“And German, Spanish and Arabic. Quit changing the subject.”
“Alex sent it to me a couple months ago. Told me to hang onto it for him.”
“Why does it say 'Insurance?' What's in it?”
“Just a flash drive.”
“What's on it?”
“I don't know. I never looked at it.”
“Why didn't you tell me about this?” he asked, annoyed.
“I didn't think of it. What's it got to do with anything?”
Michael didn't have time to connect the dots for her, they needed to get out of there. “Take the stuff and let's go.”
They shut the trap door and laid the rug back down.
“I just need one more thing,” she said as she started walking to her room.
“What is it?” he asked as she walked towards the little bookshelf in her room. Oh crap, he thought as she picked up the box that looked like a book. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. He wanted to stop it but couldn't. As she opened the box he was trying to prepare himself for what would follow.
She had a look of complete horror as she gazed in the empty box that once held her journal. “They have my journal.”
“They don't have your journal.”
“It's supposed to be in here,” she said in a panic. “It's not here. They must have it!”
“They don't have your journal, Jessica.” Michael took the box from her hand and returned it to the bookshelf. “I have it,” he finally admitted.
“You have it?” She turned to him with a puzzled look on her face.
“Yes. Now, let's go.” He grabbed her arm and they made
their way to the front door of her apartment.
Jessica was quiet as they walked down the hall towards the back door of the complex. Michael looked out and saw the man in the car was awake now.
“We're gonna have to go out a window.”
They walked back into Jessica's apartment. Michael opened a window that was out of view from the men watching her apartment. He helped Jessica out and handed her the bag with the laptop. Then he crawled out and slid the window and screen back down. They waited until the guy guarding the back door seemed to dose off again then made a dash for the truck, being careful to stay in the shadows.
“You read my journal?” Jessica asked as soon as they were back in the truck. There was a hint of anger in her voice.
Michael was afraid this would happen. He knew as soon as she headed for the bookshelf that it would turn into a fight. “I didn't read your journal.”
“You have it though?”
“Yes, it's in the pocket behind my seat.”
She reached back and grabbed it. As she held it, he could see tears welling up in her eyes, but she looked angry.
“I didn't read it,” he said again.
She pressed her lips together and held back the tears. She didn't say anything; she just looked down at the journal in her hands. Michael didn't know what to say so he kept his mouth shut. They continued the ride back in silence.
When they arrived, Michael grabbed the laptop and got out. Jessica headed straight for the futon and lay down, pulling the blankets over her.
Michael sighed. “Jessica. Don't do this.”
She didn't answer him.
“Come on, don't be like this.”
She still wouldn't respond, and he didn't know what else to do. He stepped into the bedroom and pulled off his shirt. He changed into some more comfortable pants and turned out the light as he got into bed alone. Faint sounds of crying made sleep impossible for him. It was driving him nuts. He huffed and climbed out of bed.
He turned on the light and stood over her on the futon. “Jessica, this is ridiculous. Why are you so upset? I told you I didn't read it.”
She sat up from under the covers. “You lied to me!” She started sobbing. “You told me you didn't search my apartment. You said you just glanced around. My journal wasn't lying on the table!” she said angrily. “You lied to me!”
Michael hung his head. He took a deep breath and looked back up at her. “Okay, I did a little more than glance around. When I found your journal, I didn't know anything about you and I thought maybe it would help me get to know you better. I never thought we would be back there or that you would ever discover it was missing. I'm sorry, I should have told you. I didn't do it to hurt you.”
“What else have you lied to me about?”
“Nothing Jessica. I've told you everything.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
He sighed. “I don't know.” He sat on the edge of the futon and buried his face in his hands. This was exactly what he was afraid of. She was angry and now she didn't trust him.
“Jessica, I would die protecting you.” He turned to her. “If you can't trust me, I don't know what else I could say.”
After a few minutes, she realized he was right. It was just a journal and he had saved her life more than once now. He could have left her to die in the cafe or just dumped her on the street afterward. It was silly to get so upset over a journal, she told herself.
She dried her eyes. “I'm sorry I'm so emotional. I know I've been a total basket case. You must think I'm crazy.”
“I don't think you're crazy. You cry a lot. But you're not crazy.” He smiled at her.
She let out a light laugh and smiled. “Yeah, I do cry a lot I guess.”
“I'm getting used to it,” he grinned. “Let's just go to bed.”
Chapter 14
Two days of planning and prepping. Only one thing remained to be done. Evan carried the woman inside. The smell of alcohol was so strong one might think she had showered in it. That is, if it weren't for the stench of urine that followed since she had lost control of her bladder hours ago. She should have been in a hospital being treated for alcohol poisoning. But Evan gently carried the incapacitated and unconscious woman into the bedroom, laying her on the bed.
He pulled a candlestick and holder out of his pocket. He had broken the candle so that it was a mere nub and stuck it in the holder. He lit the candle and placed it on the nightstand, then walked into the office where he grabbed a stack of mail. Walking back into the bedroom, he laid the mail dangerously close to the burning candle. He looked around the room while he waited. There was a small bookshelf in the corner of the room and one of the books looked strange. He walked over and picked it up. It wasn't a book, but rather a box made to look like a book. He opened it, but it was empty. He put it back and looked at the candle again. He groaned. He hated waiting. He agonized as the minutes passed and then a smile crept across his face when he saw the flames dance across the paper on the nightstand. He watched and waited until the flames grew and one of the flaming pieces of mail fell on the bed. Then he left the apartment.
Chapter 15
Jessica was the first to wake. The clock said 7:16 a.m. She looked over at Michael. He was sleeping on his back with his head turned to the side. She reached her hand out and slowly ran it down his chest soaking in the feel of his muscular form. He grabbed it as it passed his belly button and a huge smile formed on his face.
“You're awake,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, still smiling. “And you're bad.” He turned his head and looked at her.
She grinned playfully at him, unaware of the strong effect it was having on him.
“What do you need to do with your laptop?” He tried to shift his focus and redirect the thoughts he was having about her.
“We need an Internet connection. Then I need to download the pictures from that email,” she answered.
“We should get going then. I'll make some coffee.” He allowed himself to kiss her before reluctantly climbing out of bed. He got the coffee started and hopped in the shower first.
Jessica's shower took considerably longer. Michael poured her a cup of coffee as she came out of the bathroom. She grabbed it and started on her way to the bedroom as he flipped on the TV.
We'll have more on the Carter Road fire coming up at 9 o'clock on Channel 10 Eyewitness News.
Jessica's head shot back towards the TV and Michael sat there in shock. They only saw it for a second before it broke to commercials, but there was no mistaking it. It was Jessica's apartment building. Jessica stood frozen staring at the TV.
“Get dressed,” Michael said.
“That was my apartment building.”
“I know, get dressed,” he said calmly.
She was visibly disturbed and he wanted to keep her focused. They needed to find out what was in those pictures Alex sent her. He was thinking what a stroke of luck it was that they got to the laptop before the fire. Jessica still hadn't moved.
“Jessica,” he said firmly as he turned to her. “Get dressed now.”
She nearly spilled her coffee, placing it on the dresser. She was trembling so bad she had a hard time getting dressed. When she finished, she sat next to Michael on the futon. He had folded it back to a couch position and was sitting and staring at the TV. Michael looked at his watch. It was 8:37. The wait was agonizing.
Welcome back to Chanel 10 Eyewitness News at 9, I'm Sherrie Moore. We have more on the breaking story we brought to you earlier this morning. An early morning fire has left one apartment destroyed and others unlivable. Reporter Carla Freed has more on the story.
Thank you, Sherrie. Firefighters were called to 92 Carter Road around 3:30 a.m. to respond to a fire in this apartment building. This comes just days after suspects in the Coffee Bytes cafe shooting were arrested on this same street. Police have confirmed that there was one fatality. A body was found in a bedroom where the fire is believed to have started. Neighbor
s tell us a woman lived in that apartment, a Jessica Nickoli, but police are not releasing any information on the victim until a positive ID can be made. Police haven't ruled out foul play, but say all reports so far indicate this appears to be an accident.
“Who the hell died in my apartment?” Jessica stood up staring at the TV. Then she turned to Michael.
“Don't look at me. You were there with me. I didn't do it. There wasn't anyone else there.”
“So what happened? Someone showed up at my apartment after we left, lit a fire and died?”
“Looks like.”
“Who the hell died in my apartment?” she asked again, her voice louder this time.
“My guess would be you,” Michael said.
“What are you talking about?”
“They don't want people looking for you, Jessica. If you're dead, no one will be looking for you.”
“But, that's not me. The police will see it's not me when they compare DNA or dental records.”
“If they've gone through all this trouble, they have probably already switched your dental records and planted the victim's DNA all over your house.”
“I have to tell my friends, I have to let them know I'm okay.”
“You can't. You'll be killing them if you do. You're going to have to let them think you're dead.”
Jessica started pacing and crying. She was shaking her head and saying “No.” She couldn't believe this was happening. Michael stood up and grabbed her. She tried to push him away; she didn't want to be touched but he wouldn't let go. He held her as she struggled to break free and kept crying
“No ...”
He held her firmly until she finally gave up and broke down in his arms sobbing.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered as he held onto her.
“Why is this happening?” she sobbed.
“I don't know, Jessica, but we're going to find out,” he assured her. “