by Leanne Davis
Kelly’s chest rose and fell. The rhythmic movements comforted her that Kelly was alive. Kelly would heal. She now had to make sure Marcus Leary never again had the chance to hurt her sister, her son, or anyone else in her life.
Next time, it needed to be her that Marcus had the power to hurt, and not her loved ones.
When Cassie returned to the corridor, she felt like a part of her had changed and wasn’t going to recover. It was only then she noticed the police surrounding the Tylers and Tim. Cassie was taken aside and questioned extensively. They now had a crime and were ready to step up help for her.
Cassie sank into a chair as she and Tim sat together, waiting for her injured sister to wake up.
Cassie refused to leave the hospital, not until she could take Kelly home. She now knew separating wasn’t the answer. The Tylers stayed there waiting too. John sat close but said nothing to her.
Finally, Cassie got up and walked down the corridor, needing some coffee. Alone, she stood in front of the machine as it poured coffee into a paper cup.
Someone bumped her from behind. She turned to find a dark-haired nurse in purple scrubs. The woman smiled, handed her a magazine, then turned and scurried off. Cassie automatically took it before it occurred to her that something wasn’t right. Cassie started toward the nurse, but she was already gone. Cassie hadn’t a clue what the nurse looked like, just a generic figure in scrubs.
Cassie looked down at the magazine. It was a week old fashion magazine. The only remarkable thing was the corner of white paper, a different texture then the shiny magazine pages. Cassie looked at it hard. Her heart dropped, her hands became sticky with sweat. What the hell was this? She sat down and opened the magazine to the page the marker was on.
She knew his handwriting immediately.
Her heart froze; her blood dropped a few degrees in her veins.
But still she didn’t say anything. She swallowed with difficulty and read it.
She knew where Marcus was now.
Chapter Nineteen
Cassie took the keys from John’s jacket, excused herself to use the restroom, and then slipped past the uniformed policewoman who was on guard to protect her. She ran down three flights of stairs to burst into the parking garage. She then stole John’s SUV.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel to calm her trembling hands. She had too easily made it away from the hospital. She felt her heart would burst. She’d wanted to get caught. For now she was alone, on her way to see Marcus, her stomach twisting in pain.
The note, so like Marcus, clearly detailed what she was to do, and what would happen if she didn’t. Kelly had just been a warning. If she told anyone or didn’t show up, he promised he would take their son from her. Cassie had long known that Marcus was cold and calculating. But the degree to which he’d attacked Kelly, so boldly, in the house and in broad daylight, had Cassie terrified that he’d crossed a line of evil she hadn’t anticipated. The closer she drove to Marcus, the chances of her getting away from him was quickly diminishing.
She was heart-attack worthy scared. She didn’t want to get hurt. And even more sickening was that she was going to Marcus willingly. Under duress for Tim, of course, but here she was purposely slipping police protection and driving toward Marcus.
She was sure that’s what Marcus would find so brilliant about his plan. She was the one sneaking past the police. With his plan, Marcus was in no danger of getting caught; she was.
She smashed her hand onto the steering wheel. She’d been naive enough to think she could draw Marcus to John’s house. It made her laugh out loud.
The only thing that calmed her increasing panic was that Tim was safe. She believed it, had to believe he was safe surrounded by the Tylers and the police. Most of all because John was there, and no matter what, John wouldn’t let anyone hurt her son.
The headlights finally picked out the sign she’d been looking for. She numbed her thoughts, steeled her resolve, and pulled into the parking lot. She wondered if she’d leave here alive.
****
John knew the cop faces well. He’d made a conscious effort to study them and especially the one guarding Cassie. Then the officer walked up toward them. Something was wrong.
John stood and listened as the policewoman reported in to the detective who was handling the case. John’s entire body went cold. His heart stopped, his hands clenched. Jesus. Cassie was gone? Where? How? He closed his eyes. Kelly was thirty feet away. There was no doubt anymore the violence that Marcus was capable of, and that he was hunting Cassie. If Kelly was an example of what Marcus was capable of, what did he have planned for Cassie?
They had to find her. He shook off the debilitating fear. He had to act. Now. He had to find Cassie before it was too late. Finally he understood the fear Cassie had been living with all this time.
He turned to Luke and told him quietly. Luke went over to Tim. John looked around searching for some reason why Cassie would take off like this. Had Leary gotten to her? How? The hospital floor they were on was sealed tight.
Unless she left willingly. But how? Why? He grabbed his jacket; his keys were gone. Cassie had taken them.
****
He wasn’t there.
Cassie narrowed her eyes as she scanned the murky, gloomy bar. No familiar steely blue eyes looked back at her. Before her was what could have been a replica of the bar she remembered Marcus first talking to her in. A few stragglers played pool, patrons sat by themselves at the bar nursing beers. There was a waitress walking around in clothes that were too tight for how old and droopy she was.
But no Marcus.
Cassie wilted under the knowledge. She’d been sure he’d be sitting in their smiling placidly at her before he took her arm and led her off to some isolated spot in the woods. She felt the relief and fear at once. What was Marcus’s game? Why the elaborate set up? Why wasn’t he here?
She sat down. She kept her eyes down, avoiding the inevitable moment when Marcus Leary would come inside. She was seated only a few moments before the aging waitress came over to her, took a drink off her small tray, and set it before Cassie.
She glanced up. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, seems you’re popular sweetheart. Gentleman bought it for you,” the waitress said, her voice gravelly, nearly male sounding. The waitress started to turn and go away. Cassie grabbed at her arm.
“Who bought this?”
The waitress shrugged. “Don’t know, bartender said to send it over to you.”
Cassie looked over at the old man behind the bar. He didn’t glance her way. Cassie got up and went over to the bar where the man was wiping out a shot glass.
“Who sent me that drink?”
The bartender regarded Cassie with a sneer over his dirty, yellow teeth. He was probably sixty or so, an aging drunk, whose looks seemed to have shrunk up into his squinty-eyed stare.
“Don’t know his name. Some guy came in here just before you and says a blond would be coming in looking just like you, and he wanted to be sure she got a drink. Said to tell you he’d be real hurt if you didn’t drink it. I’d suggest you do that, Cassie. Drink it.” Goose bumps broke out over her skin at the use of her name. And the creepy smile he followed it up with. She wished him to hell. “That’s it? You expect me to believe you don’t know the man? That you took his money and honored his request?”
“Mean little son of bitch, but moneys good long as I do as he asks.”
Cassie turned her back on the bartender without another word. Marcus wanted her to drink. He knew of course she didn’t anymore, just as he seemed to know everything.
She sat down at the table and stared at the little glass as if it were a bomb about to detonate. Why had Marcus recreated this scene from their past? What did he want? Where was he? When was he going to come?
The creepy bartender eyed her. What was his connection to Marcus’s plan? She dabbed at the sweat breaking out on her forehead. What was she supposed to do? If she drank, she’d lose any edge
she had over Marcus. She wouldn’t think clearly. Marcus knew that. But what the hell was he going to do if she didn’t drink it? She was sure he had something in mind and nothing would thwart his efforts, including whether she drank the liquor or not.
A shadow passed over her table and stayed. He was there. It was happening. Dread flooded her blood stream like a shot of whiskey. Her heart was a weighted brick in her chest.
“It’s not going to help.”
She jerked back. John loomed over her, disappointment on his face. He was tall and handsome, blocking off the rest of the gloomy, depressed room and its sad occupants.
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. John stood before her, not the sadistic, violent man she’d been waiting for. John, who probably thought she’d run away from her son and sister to have a drink. He believed she’d frivolously abandoned all of them, and yet he’d still come to her.
Cassie jumped up, her chair hit the wall behind her. She stepped around the table and flung herself at John. He was solid and warm against her. His shirt brushed soft against her cheek. She leaned with relief against him. John took a step back to balance against her sudden added weight. Her head came up to his chin. He was rigid against her and didn’t twitch in response to her.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.
“On-star,” he said simply.
She hadn’t noticed he had it in his SUV and almost laughed at how stupid she was to think she could carry out this plan. But now that he was here, no matter what the consequences, she was so happy and relieved to see him, she became dizzy from the overwhelming adrenalin rush.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
She pushed away from him, dug in her pocket, produced the note and put it into his hand.
John smoothed the paper open to read it then looked at her as realization dawned on his face. He crumbled the paper in his hand and suddenly pulled her against him in a fierce embrace.
“Why would you do it? Why would you come here alone? Jesus Cassie, you could have disappeared and I’d have never found you. Maybe no one would have.”
He pushed her back and made her look him in the eye. “Don’t you ever do something so stupid again. Promise me.”
She looked up at his face, shaken by the fierceness in his voice. Nothing ruffled John.
“I thought I had to.”
“Do you know what he could have done to you? Do you want that? Are you that self-destructive you think that would be some kind of answer? Sacrificing yourself for Tim?”
She’d had some ideas about what Marcus could do to her, but hearing John say it made her shiver with dread at what she’d almost done. “No. I—”
John ran his hands along her shoulders. “You have to believe me. None of us are going to let Marcus get Tim or you. No matter what he plans. But you going off alone, doing stupid things like this is what Leary wants you to do. He played on your love for Tim. He knows you’d do anything for him; including give yourself over to him in exchange for Tim.”
“But look at what he did to Kelly. What if he tries to do that to Tim? I can’t let that happen, not to my child.”
“It won’t happen. You have to trust me for once.”
“I thought—”
“Quit thinking on your own Cassie. Your conclusions have yet to help anything. Talk to me first. Promise me no more heroic self-sacrifices.”
She let out a shaky breath. Her shoulders dropped. “Okay, I promise.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said with a catch to his voice, “Your disappearance scared the shit out of me.”
“Me too.”
He waved at the table beside them. “Why the drink Cassie?”
She explained the odd appearance of the drink. John’s jaw tightened as looked at the harmless drink alone on the table. He pulled her toward the door, snagging the glass as he passed.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Quickly he escorted her outside, and she found he’d come escorted by a police cruiser whose lights rotated silently. John stopped at the door where the cop stood waiting. John had worried about her at first, but then no doubt assumed she’d gone off to drink alone.
Only then did Cassie understand what John suspected. John handed the drink to the officer. He believed Marcus had drugged her drink. This earned her twenty minutes inside the police cruiser as the officer took her statement, then he called in back up and asked them to wait until they could be escorted back to the hospital. Cassie watched in the rear view mirror as the bartender was brought out and put inside the car. Another patrol car came behind them and followed John as he drove back to the hospital.
“What do you think Marcus intended?”
The car was shadowy. She could see John was staring hard at the road as if to avoid glaring at her. “You’ve heard of Rohypnol?”
“The date rape drug?”
“Yeah. I’d bet my life he put that or something similar in that drink. And judging by the sleazy story the bartender had, I’ll bet Marcus is waiting some place close for a call from that bartender flagging him that you had drank the shot, drug and all.”
“Why would he bother? Why not just have me go somewhere private to meet him?”
John glanced at her. “Because this way he could watch you come and make sure you weren’t followed and were really alone. The bartender would have called when you drank the shot and Marcus would no doubt saunter in and take you. Nothing would have been easier. It was quite a plan, simple and to the point. And it almost worked.”
“How do you know it was drugged?”
“You didn’t notice your drink was discolored? Rophies is formulated to change the color of beverages it’s dissolved in.”
Cassie fell silent as the magnitude of what could have been settled on her chest like a vice suddenly tightening around the middle of her. Of course John would know that, he was a doctor. And she of course, didn’t have a clue. John’s jaw was clenched. His anger wasn’t helping.
Once safely back at the hospital, John became sullen and abrupt with her. He scowled at her, as his fury seemed to radiate off him in actual heat waves. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze directed at her.
Tim seemed to sense something had happened, because he clung to her like he was an infant. He sat on her until he finally fell asleep with his head resting against her.
Impossible as it seemed the adrenalin and emotions that had rocked furiously through her system in waves over the hours since receiving the call Kelly was hurt, had suddenly stilled. Cassie felt odd without the strong emotions. She was depleted, as if there was nothing left in her to react with any longer. And this waiting, so much waiting was wearing on her strung out brain and nerves. Sleep started to take over. She drifted off, with Tim warm and heavy across her lap.
****
Cassie’s eyes closed. She was exhausted; her hair was standing on ends. She’d run her hands through it endlessly, destroying it. Her clothes were as worn and tired looking as she.
They looked like a poster for vulnerable sitting together in the chair, Tim strung across her, as her head bent into his.
John needed to protect them. The stab of panic twisted in his stomach. How could he keep them safe? How could he make sure what happened to Kelly didn’t happen to Cassie? Or Tim?
But how was he to do that if Cassie didn’t trust him?
He couldn’t relax. He was impotent waiting here. He wasn’t used to the rage that was filling him. He’d never considered himself particularly violent and rarely felt the urge to even hit inanimate objects. But now a healthy dose of pent up violence filled him each time he thought of how close Cassie had come to being beaten, raped or murdered by Marcus Leary.
The thing was Cassie had realized the consequences of what she was doing before she’d done it.
John smacked a fist into the wall behind him. How could she have gone off like that? Cassie had witnessed what Marcus had done to her sister. She had
to know that whatever Marcus Leary had planned for her was going to be far worse than what he’d done to Kelly. And still she’d gone without a word to him. She should have trusted him, told him about the note, and looked to him for help. Instead she’d nearly gotten herself killed. It was easier for Cassie to run off toward a violent felon alone, than it was for her to trust him. Would Cassie ever put her faith into him? Trust him? Be honest with him? She always had to figure the answers out by herself, but usually her actions made everything worse.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, after little sleep in an ungodly chair, Cassie was still exhausted and strung out. The morning became a blur of police questions, and learning that her drink from the bar had indeed been drugged just as John suspected. There had been no sign of Marcus at or around the bar last night, and the bartender stuck to his story that he knew nothing about where Marcus was, or what Marcus had been planning.
Kelly finally came around. Cassie’s heart dropped out of her chest as her sister struggled to sit up and then made eye contact with Cassie. Kelly’s eyes filled with tears. She winced in pain when the salty tears touched her swollen, bruised eyelids.
She attempted a smile, and her shoulders jerked at the pain from her cracked lip. Her smile was a mere lifting of one corner of her lips as if to tell Cassie she was okay. Kelly touched a hand to her cheeks, then her nose. She blinked rapidly to hold back the onslaught of more tears. Cassie grabbed her hand.
“I’m sorry. I should have sent you home. I’m so sorry.
Kelly shook her head. Her voice was a raw whisper. “No. It wasn’t your fault. It was his.”
“What can I do?”
“A mirror.”
“No, later. You don’t need to see it.”
“Yes I do. Are you really going to say no to me?”
Cassie let out a deep sigh. “Of course not.” She got up and grabbed a compact from her purse and handed it to Kelly. Kelly’s fingers shook as she took it. She took a deep breath, held the mirror up, and looked over her face. She turned right and then left. She remained stoic. Finally she snapped the compact shut and thrust it at Cassie.