by Sawyer Belle
“Stop apologizing, Mackenna,” he said, his voice rough.
“What do you want me to do?” She spread her arms out wide in supplication.
“I don’t want you to do anything! I want this chicken-shit bastard to show his face so we can be done with this cat and mouse bullshit! I don’t like looking over my shoulder and peering around corners.”
“I’m in the same boat as you, Brent. I’m being stalked just the same.”
“You invited this into your life when you invited him into your life. I didn’t make that choice.”
He walked past an end table and lashed out at an empty glass, sending it across the room to shatter against the wall. His actions didn’t frighten her, but his words wounded her deeply. Tears formed in her eyes when she thought about what she had to tell him.
“Well, I’m sorry that you regret the choice you made in me.”
“That’s not what I said, Mackenna. Don’t twist my words.”
“That is what you said, Brent. You just said it differently.”
“No,” he drawled impatiently, “what I said is…”
“That it’s my fault we’re in this mess! That’s what you are saying, Brent, that this is not what you signed up for when you married me.” She went to the shattered glass and knelt down to start cleaning it up. “I get it. I was stupid for not having seen this in Rick sooner. I should have never led him on. Everything we’re going through is because of me. I get it, I get it, I get it!”
She sniffled as the tears flowed freely. Brent groaned in frustration.
“Here come the waterworks!” he said peering up at the ceiling as he rolled his eyes. “Great! Now, I’m the bad guy for making you cry with the words that you put into my mouth!”
“I’m not crying because of you!” she shot back. “I’m crying because I’m overwhelmed with the entire situation and I’m exhausted. I’m afraid. I’m hormonal, and I’m pregnant.” She raised furious eyes at him as she continued to fill her palms with shards of glass. “And you can take the blame for that one!”
All ire melted from Brent as his face went slack. His breaths felt hollow and insufficient and a sudden lightheadedness took hold. He’d known it was possible and even likely that she would get pregnant, but somehow hearing the words from her mouth affected him more intensely than he had imagined.
A baby.
His child’s heart was beating inside of her. A new life was burgeoning and all of a sudden his didn’t seem so bleak. There was a hope and a deeper love for Mackenna taking root inside of him, just as their baby was taking root inside of her. And there she was, his pregnant wife, on her hands and knees cleaning up the glass he’d broken in a fit of rage unjustly directed at her. Guilt plunged into him like a knife. He went and knelt beside her while she continued to sniffle and pick up glass. He reached for her hand.
“Here, let me do that,” he said, and she jerked her hands away from him.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned.
“Mackenna,” he said in a plea, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry about what?” she shot back. “Sorry that you broke one of my glasses? Sorry that you blamed me for our current hell of a life? Or sorry that I’m pregnant?”
He reeled back, horrified at the idea of not rejoicing in her pregnancy.
“No, not at all,” he said on a gasp.
“Just leave me alone, Brent,” she wept. “I think I’ve had enough character assassination for the day.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his mouth filling with words he couldn’t say, words she didn’t want to hear. With a sigh, he rose, grabbed his keys and left the apartment.
The night was crisp and clear with a million stars dotting the sky as she made her way home through the Washoe Valley. She hadn’t told her parents that she was pregnant yet. She didn’t know exactly why other than that she knew that they would be thrilled and she was determined that the first elation, the first celebration of this life inside of her, would be shared between her and Brent. The way they’d parted in the morning was anything but celebratory and she needed to fix that.
She wiped the wetness from her eyes, praying desperately that her current lack of emotional control was not a sign of things to come for this pregnancy. She was disgusted at the idea of being a weepy woman for nine months. Her fight with Brent had been on her mind all day. That was not how she had imagined it would be, announcing her pregnancy to him. She felt terrible for saying it during a fight, but she couldn’t undo what had happened.
Truth be told, the idea of being a mother was still very new to her. She’d only found out the day before and she’d spent all of the time in between shuffling through worry and unpreparedness that she didn’t allow time for happiness and hope. The timing was awful, admittedly. Brent hadn’t found a job yet. She was only six months from beginning vet school. Rick was still a looming plague on their lives. Things were not as they should be, but deep in her soul nothing felt more right than bringing Brent’s child into the world.
Whatever it took to make things right between them, she would do. She’d make them a happy family. Family! The word itself teased a smile from her lips. There was a life inside of her, a product of hers and Brent’s deep and enduring love. That alone was worth dismissing whatever pangs of sorrow she’d felt all day long.
As she made her way up the stairs to their apartment she could see a warm orange glow pulsing from the window. She went inside and found the interior lit with candles. There was a folded note on the breakfast bar by the door. It read: I’m in the bedroom. Mackenna smiled wistfully, anxious for the all-night makeup session. She followed the rows of candles to the room and shuffled passed the doorway only to find more candles spread throughout. She heard the door shut behind her and smiled softly.
“Well, you are definitely exceeding my expectations,” she said huskily until her gaze landed on the bed and found a rose lying there. The air in her lungs dissipated into panic and her blood turned to ice as she spun around and saw Rick leaning against the door, her only way out. He was shirtless and the top button of his jeans was undone. His hair was overgrown and scraggly, his eyes an obsidian pool of insanity. The corners of her mouth curled downward as she fought the tears gathering behind her eyes.
“Glad to hear that, darlin’,” he said as he looked her up and down. “That’s all I ever wanted to do.”
A million words rushed through Mackenna, things she wanted to say, things she thought she shouldn’t say. Escape plans and lockdowns all seemed a ridiculous defense against the threat so prominently blocking her path. Her own self-defensiveness riled against his intrusion into her home, but the beating of her baby’s heart echoed through her ears and heart, muddling months of well-laid plans.
“Rick,” she breathed. “How did you get in here?”
“With a key of course.”
“What key?”
“The key I made an imprint of when we spent the night together at your parents’ house during the storm.”
Disgust spilled through her.
“You snuggled right up to me,” he continued. “Our bodies created so much heat that I knew that you still wanted me.”
“That’s probably because I was dreaming of Brent,” she jabbed and a flicker of anger lit his eyes at the sound of the name.
“Ah, yes! Brave Brent, your faithful hero. That idiot couldn’t find a boulder in a pile of pebbles. He’s been running himself ragged looking for me when I’ve been right under his nose the whole time. Man, I couldn’t have made it any easier! I’ve left him plenty of signs pointing to where I was. Haven’t you gotten my roses? I’ve been sending one for every day we’ve been apart.” When she said nothing, he carried on with a look of mild surprise on his face. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t been expecting me.”
“Not really,” she said bravely. “I thought you’d moved on.”
He chuckled from deep in his chest before pushing off of the door and moving toward her. “Moved on to what?” he asked. “There’s
nothing but you. Nothing but our love.”
Mackenna backed up as he drew near until she was flat against the wall. He leaned forward and put his mouth beside her ear. His hand went to her belly where he stroked possessively despite her cringes. His nose brushed the hair away from her ears and Mackenna shut her eyes as she fought the urge to vomit.
“And now we’ve made a child out of our love. I hope it’s a boy with my smarts and your eyes.”
Her eyes flew open. How did he know she was pregnant when she’d only known for a day? His fingers tickled her stomach, moving slowly down until they went between her thighs. At the first touch of his hand she pushed him away from her.
“This is not your baby!” she yelled. “It belongs to my husband, and only he has the right to put his hands on me.”
Rick’s face looked surprised at first, but then it twisted into a humorless laugh with cold, menacing eyes. He reached down and grabbed a backpack near the bed. From it he withdrew a roll of duct tape and she panicked.
“Rick, listen to me,” she begged. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, but this isn’t you. This sneaking into other people’s homes, stalking them…it’s not you. Please, let me help you get through this. I’ll find the best doctors to help you work this out.”
“Doctors!” he shouted, nearly shaking the roof with his rage. “What’s a doctor going to do to make you love me again?! If there’s a doctor in the world who can help me with that, I’ll go to him.” Rick sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands, sobbing hysterically. Mackenna inched her way to the nightstand, where her loaded pistol was kept. When she was within arm’s reach of it, his voice halted her where she stood.
“Stop,” he called and she looked up to find a raised pistol aimed right at her. “I don’t want to have to shoot you. Not after all we’ve been through. Especially over a gun that’s not loaded anymore.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets he’d taken from her handgun and let them fall onto the floor. Mackenna crumbled inside and leaned back against the wall. After a long moment, he lowered the gun and tucked it into the back of his pants. He pulled a strip free of the tape and Mackenna bolted for the door. He was too close and had an arm around her middle before she could reach it.
She screamed for help as he threw her down on the bed. His hand instantly covered her mouth. She thrashed at him, fighting with everything she had, but he was still stronger. He pinned her body to the mattress with his own and used his free hand and teeth to pull another strip of tape and strap it over her mouth. Once her screams were silenced, he turned her onto her side and bound her hands together at the wrists behind her back. Next, he taped her ankles together. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she breathed quietly through her nose. Rick held her face in his hands, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he said softly. “I’m just putting things back to right, making things the way they should be.”
He pressed a kiss to the tape covering her mouth and Mackenna closed her eyes, racking her brain for a way out of the situation. Rick opened his mouth to speak again, but the muted thud of footsteps coming up the stairs called out to them. His eyes brightened and Mackenna’s breath caught in her throat. She and Brent usually arrived home around the same time.
“So, what should I do about this trespasser who’s come sampling goods that belong to me?” he whispered, pulling out the gun again. Mackenna began screaming into the tape, hoping that at least some of the sound would reach Brent. Rick silenced her with a fist to her temple. She remained conscious but her senses were blurred and reeling. She heard his voice as it breathed into her ear.
“Quiet now,” he whispered. “We don’t want lover boy to know what’s up.”
Mackenna peered through the bedroom doorway as her vision sharpened. Rick crept to the window that Brent had spent all night in front of. As she heard the jingle of keys, she prayed for Brent’s safety, and just as Rick was raising the gun to eye level, she closed her eyes.
Brent was pleased to find her truck in the parking lot. He was worried that she’d stay the night at her parents’ house as mad as she was when he’d left her. He knew that there was no more time to waste finding a job. He’d soon have a family to support. He abandoned his fruitless search for Rick and went straight to task looking for work. To his surprise, he’d been hired by the Nevada Fish and Wildlife Division almost on the spot.
He’d stopped by a department store on his way home and bought a pair of tiny yellow baby booties as a gift for the new mother-to-be. As he stood in front of his door, shuffling through his keys, he pulled the socks out of his pocket. They were so tiny and soft, like he knew the baby’s feet would be, like Mackenna’s body was against his. Everything would be all right. He just knew it.
As he slid the key into the lock, one of the booties fell from his hand and landed in the snow. He turned and bent to retrieve it. The sound came before he saw the flash, and he saw the flash before he felt the pain. Fire and white light blinded him as he fell backward and tumbled down the entire flight of stairs.
Chapter 42
Mackenna sobbed into her pinched lips. She heard his body thudding down the steps. In her mind’s eye she saw him at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding the ground red, dying before his time. Her heart clenched in her chest, trapped in a vice of deep despair as she thought of living without him, if she even survived. She grieved for their child who would either never take his first breath or never know his wonderful father.
“Man, I really thought he would be harder to take out,” Rick said bemusedly as he returned to the bedroom. “Guess he’s not as tough as he thought he was.”
He picked up his backpack and went to the dresser, tossing some of her clothes in the bag. She watched him through her tears. He stopped to look at her.
“We need to get going,” he explained. “I’m sure a gunshot and a dead body on the stairs are not common for this complex. The cops are probably on the way, so we’d best get out of here before they show up.”
Mackenna saw her chance for rescue in that sentence. She needed to keep him there long enough for the police to arrive and take him out. As he zipped up the bag, he neared the bed, preparing to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. She rolled onto her back and kicked up her bound feet, both shoes landing squarely on his chest. He stumbled backwards until he hit the wall. He glared at her with shock and outrage.
“Now, that wasn’t very nice,” he said as he rubbed the spot on his chest. “If you try anything like that again, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
He walked toward the bed again, this time more cautiously, and Mackenna kept her feet cocked back, ready to strike. He stopped and stared down at the determination in her eyes, then sighed. He sprang from his feet toward her and she kicked out again, her feet hitting him in the face. He fell on the bed and she pounded his back with her heels. He crawled through the assault until he was too near her waist for her to reach him effectively with her feet.
He looped his arms around her waist and lifted her as he stood, throwing her over his shoulder. Blood was already trickling from his lip and his eyes were burning with rage. She didn’t care. This was a fight for her life. She knew that if he were to take her from the apartment she would never be seen again. She kicked and writhed in his arms as he fought to control her.
“Stop it!” he yelled, squeezing her midsection painfully tight, but she didn’t stop. He carried her toward the bedroom doorway and she kicked off of the doorjamb sending them stumbling back into the room. Angrily, he threw her onto the ground. She landed hard and painfully, not having control of her arms to break her fall.
She tasted blood in her mouth and realized that her teeth had cut into her bottom lip when she hit the ground. Before she could assess the rest of her pains, she felt the hard toe of his thick boot bury deep into her back. She cried out into the tape covering her mouth.
“You like being kicked?!” he shouted as he swung his foot
out to kick her again.
Mackenna felt the full force of it jostle her spine and she gritted her teeth against the pain. Suddenly, there was a heavy thud and a blend of grunts from behind her. She turned her neck enough to see Rick wrestling with someone on the ground. The bodies rolled from side to side until Brent’s face came into view. Her heart soared and it gave her renewed strength.
She sat up, fighting through the agony in her back, and began working her behind and legs through the loop of her arms at her back. Fists were flying from both men and Mackenna wondered why Brent hadn’t bested Rick yet, but then she saw the blood. It was obvious that Brent was injured. So, Rick had shot him after all, but she just didn’t know where. He was wounded enough that it evened the physical fight between them.
Her arms were finally in front of her and she shimmied to the nightstand, using its corner to saw through the tape around her wrists. She kept her eyes on the men as she ground and ground her wrists against the corner of the stand. Brent was using only his right arm to punch and pin Rick. He had to have been shot in his left.
Brent finally won the advantage and moved atop Rick, reaching down with his right hand to clasp it around Rick’s throat. As he watched the man’s face grow redder and redder from the lack of oxygen, he missed his hand moving toward his lower back. Soon, Rick pulled the gun free and brought it around toward Brent’s face. Before he could take full aim Brent grabbed his wrist, forcing the gun away from them.
Mackenna’s wrists sprang free of the tape and she reached up to pull the strip off of her mouth. She threw open the top drawer of the stand and grabbed her empty handgun. She scanned the floor for the bullets that Rick had dropped there. In all of the scuffling, they had been scattered and she looked beneath the bed where they’d rolled, reaching for the one closest to her.
Rick was sensing his own defeat as Brent’s fingers tightened around his wrist. He was losing his grip on the gun. He knew that once he lost that, it was over. He brought his free hand up and found the source of pouring blood in Brent’s left shoulder and he stuck his thumb in it. Brent screamed and fell over onto the floor. As Rick rolled over to catch his breath, he caught Mackenna sitting beside the bed, loading her gun with shaky fingers.