by R. R. Banks
He gives me a warm and genuine smile, which makes me feel a thousand times better about the situation instantaneously.
“Of course, I do,” he says.
“Good,” I reply. “Then finish getting dressed and let's get something to eat. I'm ravenous.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A few minutes later, I'm in the kitchen, drinking a glass of cold water, when my phone rings. I glance at the display and furrow my brow, seeing that it's Melinda. A sudden jolt of fear shoots through me knowing that she wouldn't call me unless there is something wrong.
“Melinda?” I answer the phone. “Is everything okay?”
She's crying, on the verge of hysteria – and trying to speak at the same time – and I'm having trouble trying to understand her.
“Slow down, Melinda,” I say. “I can't –”
I hear the muffled sound of the phone being passed and the anxiety inside of me ratchets up a few levels. The adrenaline is surging through me and I'm suddenly terrified. A moment later, I hear Melinda's husband, Aaron, on the line. And what he tells me sends a powerful wave of fear crashing down over me.
I click off the line, my hand trembling so hard, it took me a few tries to actually disconnect the call. I stare out the window at the darkness beyond, seeing the white foam of the waves breaking against the shoreline glowing in the silvery moonlight.
“Veronica?” Caleb's voice is soft. “What's wrong?”
I look over at him and open my mouth to speak – only to find that no words will come out. I just stare at him, wide-eyed and unable to form a single word. He steps forward quickly and takes my hand, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I look up at him, tears spilling down my cheeks and a dark rage boiling up inside of me.
“Veronica,” he says. “What's going on?”
“Glenn,” I say. “He took Justin.”
Caleb looks back at me, his eyes wide. “He did what?”
“He apparently followed me to Melinda's place,” I said, fighting off a wave of hysteria. “He just held Melinda and her husband at gunpoint and took Justin.”
“Oh, Jesus,” he said. “We have to call the cops.”
I shake my head. “He said if he sees cops, he's going to kill my son,” I say. “What am I going to do, Caleb?”
As if answering my question, my cell phone rings. I look at the display and don't recognize the number. I quickly connect the call, putting it on speaker so Caleb can hear.
“Glenn?” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
“I was gonna take him and disappear,” he says. “But he won't stop cryin' for you.”
“Bring him home, Glenn. Please.”
“Here's what's gonna happen,” he says. “You listenin'?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “What? What do you want?”
“The three of us – you, me, and the kid,” Glenn says. “We're gonna disappear. We're gonna be a family again.”
“Please, Glenn,” I say. “Just bring him back home and I'll –”
“You ain't listenin', Veronica,” he snaps. “That's always been your problem. You run that fuckin' mouth of yours and you don't listen. So, shut up and listen.”
“Fine,” I say, wiping the tears off my cheeks. “What do you want?”
“I want you to meet me at the head of the pier,” he says. “And the three of us are gonna go somewhere and start a new life together.”
I look at Caleb and he nods, encouraging me to agree. My stomach is in knots and I feel like I'm going to throw up.
“Fine, okay,” I say. “Just don't hurt my son.”
“Our son,” he says. “Justin is our son.”
I bite back the taste of bile in my throat. “O – our son.”
“Good girl,” he says. “Be there tomorrow at noon. Not a minute later. And if I see a single cop or that prick of a boyfriend you got, Justin and I are gonna disappear forever. You got me?”
“Y – yes, fine.”
The line goes dead and I'm left staring at the phone, so much adrenaline running through me that I'm trembling. Caleb puts a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. I look up at him and see an expression of pure compassion on his face.
“It's going to be okay, Veronica,” he says. “Nothing is going to happen to Justin. I swear it. Let me make a couple of calls and then let's go get your son back.”
I throw my arms around him and give him a tight hug, hoping against all hope that he's right.
Chapter Six
The crowd at the head of the pier is thick as locals and tourists alike clog the place. Which is likely why Glenn chose it. He wanted the meet to be someplace public where he could see me without being seen. The knots in my stomach are painfully tight and it's all I can do to keep from throwing up.
I look around, desperately trying to catch sight of my son, but all I can see is the crush of bodies. It's chaos – just how Glenn wants it.
Target at three o'clock. Inbound. Two hundred yards. Target is alone. Repeat, target is alone.
My anxiety is through the roof as the voice comes through the small, discrete earpiece I'm wearing. After Glenn hung up last night, Caleb called a few of his friends from the military whom he said had the skills we needed. I didn't ask him because I didn't want to know. All I know is that they aren't cops. But as long as they get my son back to me, they can be Santa's elves for all I care.
Stay frosty, Veronica. He's got your son somewhere else. We'll have to wait to make the grab. Just go along with him.
My heart is racing and despite the cool weather, the stress of it all is making me sweat. I'm terrified, almost paralyzed with fear. But I just keep telling myself that I can't afford to be too scared to act. The only thing that matters is getting Justin back. That's the only thing that matters.
Just hang in there, Veronica, Caleb's friend says through the earpiece. Just go along with him and this will all be over soon enough.
I nod, not knowing whether or not I can actually pull this off. But then I see him coming through the crowd and the blood in my veins feels like it freezes. His eyes are narrow and lock on mine for a moment as he makes his way toward me. I watch him closely, see his eyes shifting this way and that, looking for the hidden threats, trying to make sure I'm actually alone.
And then he's there in front of me, reeking of beer, cigarettes, and body odor.
“Didn't think you'd actually show up alone,” he says. “You must really love the kid.”
“Where's my son?”
“Our son,” he corrects me.
“Where is he?”
Glenn looks around, still scanning the crowd. “Close,” he says. “He's close.”
“Take me to him, Glenn.”
He nods, watching the crowd a little more closely. He's like a dog that catches a scent on the wind – he smells trouble. Can sense it out there – but doesn't know where it's coming from. But then the moment passes and he flashes me a predatory grin.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Where are we going?”
He shrugs. “Not sure yet,” he says. “We'll see when we get there. All that matters is that the three of us are gonna have a new life. Together.”
I resist the urge to look around, to search out Caleb's mysterious friends – the men who are keeping watch over me. As I walk away with Glenn, I can only hope they have their eyes on me and will be in place when the time comes to pull Justin and me out of there.
We walk down Main Street and then turn onto a side street, passing by a parking structure, heading for a small residential street. Glenn is tense at first. Silent. His eyes constantly moving as if he is expecting an attack. But the farther we move from the pier, the more he relaxes – as if with each step away, his confidence continues to grow.
“Where is Justin?” I ask again, my anxiety soaring.
“He's in the car waiting for us.”
“You left him alone in the car?” I ask, almost yelling.
“Relax, he's fine.”
The stre
et is dark and the cars parked along the curb are just shadows. There's an ominous feeling in the air. Caleb's friends have gone radio silent – which makes me nervous. I can only hope they're out there, tracking us, and didn't lose us in the crowds on Main Street.
Glenn leads me to a dark panel van and stops. Looking around, he unlocks it and slides the side door open. Justin is inside, bound and gagged on the floor. Rushing in, I scoop up my baby and hold him to me, tears streaming down my face.
I take off the gag and check him over, breathing a sigh of relief when I see no bruises or cuts. Other than being tied up and gagged, he appears to be fine other than the fact that his eyes are red and puffy – he's obviously terrified and has been crying.
“Are you okay, baby?” I whisper to him.
He looks at Glenn and then back to me, nodding but saying nothing else.
“There? See? He's fine,” Glenn says. “Just like I told you.”
I turn and stare at him, fury filling my face. “You son of a bitch –”
“We got a chance for a fresh start, Veronica,” he says. “Don't ruin it by pissing me off.”
He starts to slide the door shut when I hear a loud popping noise followed by the hum of an electrical current. Glenn's body stiffens and he begins to spasm and jerk. He lets out a noise that sounds almost animalistic, somewhere between a growl and a groan. It's only then that I see the wires of the taser that had been shot into his chest.
Climbing to the doorway, I see a man dressed entirely in black, wearing a mask that reveals only his eyes, holding the taser. Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention and I see a second man emerge from the shadows. He raises his hand and that loud popping sound is repeated. Glenn's body jerks as he gets another dose of electricity from the newcomer's taser – and yet, he remains on his feet. He's slobbering all over himself and making a horrible noise, but he's still standing.
“Go down, stupid,” I shout.
I piston my foot out, catching him in the stomach, and send him toppling to the ground in a heap. He lays there, his body racked by spasms from the electrical current being pumped into him. In that moment, I want nothing more than to have a taser of my own. Though, it's probably best I don't have one – I'd be tempted to keep the electricity flowing until he was nothing but a burned-out husk of flesh.
When the electrical hum dissipates, the men step forward and turn Glenn onto his stomach. They put his arms behind his back and then bind both hands and feet with plastic zip ties. The first man stands and walks over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay, Veronica?”
I recognize the voice – it's the same man whose voice I heard over the earpiece. I nod and give him a smile I'm sure looks as phony as it feels.
“I – I'm okay,” I say and help Justin to a sitting position beside me. “We're okay.”
He nods to me and turns to the second man who is talking into a small device in the wrist of his sleeve.
“Target secure,” he says. “The area is clear. We're bugging out.”
The first man turns back to me. “Caleb will be here in a minute,” he says. “Everything's going to be okay.”
“Thank you,” I say, my heart filled with gratitude and relief. “Thank you both so much.”
The man says nothing. He just gives me a nod before he and the second man turn and jog away, melting into the shadows like phantoms. I hold Justin close to me as Glenn groans on the ground below us – and I have to resist the urge to reach down and kick him.
A couple of minutes later, a dark sedan screeches to a stop beside the van, the red and blue bubble light on the roof rotating, dispelling the dark, but casting eerie looking shadows everywhere at the same time.
And then Caleb is there beside me, holding on to me and Justin.
“Are you both okay?” he asks.
I nod. “We're fine,” I say. “Thanks to you and your mysterious friends.”
A man in a dark suit steps over to where we are, looking down at Glenn and grinning before he looks up at me and Justin.
“I'm Detective Winters,” he says. “Are you and your son okay, Miss Geary?”
“Yes, fine,” I reply. “We're okay.”
“What happened to him?” Winters asks, nudging Glenn's limp body with his foot.
I look at Caleb who gives me a subtle shake of the head. Because yeah, I can’t really explain this.
“I don't know,” I say. “A couple of good Samaritans subdued him. I didn't see much of anything because I was in the van with my son.”
“Good Samaritans, huh?” Winters asks.
I shrug. “Apparently so.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Fair enough.”
Winters and Caleb get Glenn to his feet and drag him over to the Detective's car, tossing him like a rag doll into the back seat. With as much electricity as he had pumped into him, I don't expect Glenn to be able to think, let alone function for some time.
After they exchange a few words, the Detective jumped into his car and took off. Caleb walks over to me and pulls me into a tight embrace, letting me feel the relief washing through him as well.
It was over.
Glenn was going back to prison – and with what I hope are new kidnapping charges against him, he'll be there for a very long time.
A moment later, he pulls back and looks me in the eye. “Winters is going to need a statement and will probably have some questions for you.”
“I figured as much.”
“But, we can do that tomorrow,” he says.
I nod. “Who were those guys in the masks?”
He shrugs. “Just a couple of guys I served with who owed me a favor.”
He leaves it at that, so I don't press him on the issue. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Justin is safe – and Glenn is on his way back to prison.
“I don't even know how to thank you,” I say.
Caleb smiles and ruffles Justin's hair. “You don't need to,” he says. “I'm just glad I could be there to help.”
I throw my arms around Caleb and embrace him tightly again. Just the feel of his body pressed to mine brings me relief. Comfort. Wrapped up in his arms, I feel safe. He looks down at me and smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, now that this is all sorted out,” he says. “We have a fake wedding to plan.”
I shake my head and laugh. “That we do.”
Picking Justin up, I carry him as Caleb leads us back to his car. The relief I feel about this whole mess being over is palpable. But as I walk next to Caleb, there's something gnawing at the back of my mind – and it feels like it's getting more persistent.
As crazy as it sounds, given our years of friendship, there's some small sliver in there that doesn't want our little wedding ceremony to be fake after all.
But I don't know that he feels the same – and the last thing I want to do is lose the best friend I have in this whole screwed up world.
Chapter Seven
The day has finally arrived – our wedding day. It still makes me giggle to think about it. My mother arrived two days ago and has been underfoot ever since. But Justin is thrilled to have her around, of course, and she really hit it off with Caleb. Much to my chagrin. Now it feels like I have two of them ganging up on me.
The day is overcast, there's a chance of rain, and there is a cool breeze blowing. If I were a superstitious woman, I might consider it a bad omen, given that it's my wedding day.
Caleb set up a small gazebo on the beach just outside his house. A red carpet leads from his deck to the gazebo and there are half a dozen chairs on either side of the carpet. When my mother expressed her dismay about the size of the wedding, I reminded her that this was my day and I wanted to keep it small and intimate.
She grumbled about it, of course, but I just laugh it off. It's not like this is real anyway – not that she's ever going to know that.
“How are you holding up, soon to be Mrs. G
raham?”
“Fake Mrs. Graham,” I say and smile.
“Right,” he says. “Fake Mrs. Graham.”
I laugh and look up at Caleb. Dressed in a dark suit, he cuts a very handsome figure. Once again, I'm overwhelmed by the emotions swirling around inside of me. As I've done ever since the day we had sex in his kitchen, I try to stuff all of those feelings back down into the box I keep in the back of my mind – the box of thoughts and feelings I dare not entertain.
Something in Caleb's eyes – and in the tone of his voice – makes me pause though. I see something in his expression – something I can't quite put my finger on. It's almost as if he's disappointed that this is all a sham we're putting on just to appease my mother.
But that's crazy – right? Surely, he couldn't seriously want to marry me?
We stand in silence, just staring at each other for several long moments, an air of anticipation between us. I'm no closer to being able to interpret his expression or intuit his thoughts though. It feels like he wants to say something – but is choosing to hold his tongue.
“Well,” I say, “shall we go and get this fake show on the road?”
I start to turn away when Caleb puts his hand on me. I stop and turn back to him, cocking my head.
“Listen, Veronica,” he says. “We haven't ever talked about what happened between us that day in the kitchen.”
“You mean, when we had sex on your counter?”
Color flares in his cheeks and he smile. “Y – yeah, exactly,” he stammers.
“I wasn't sure you thought there was anything to talk about,” I say. “We had some fun together.”
“Is that all it was to you?”
My head is spinning and my heart is thundering. The way he's looking at me tells me that it was more to him. A lot more. And I find that I feel elated knowing that.
“Honestly?” I say. “No. It wasn't.”
He nods and gives me a sheepish grin. “It feels like something changed between us that day.”
“Like the chemistry we were missing all those years ago was suddenly there.”
“Exactly,” he says, growing more excited. “It's like – a missing piece of a puzzle finally fell into place. And that everything is suddenly – right. Like we'd been waiting for this moment – for the two of us to finally be ready for one another.”