by Lacey Black
“I’m doing the best I can. She’s tired and hungry,” I tell the man, every bit of his exposed arms covered in dark intricate ink. I turn Natalia around and try to walk between the pieces of car parts. It’s not only past her naptime, but also has to be dinnertime. To make matters worse, when I took her inside the café to change her, I only grabbed a diaper and wipes. Her snacks and juice were left in the diaper bag with the stroller as well. With Blake.
It’s getting late and the sun is going to set soon. The longer we’re here, the less likely it’ll be that Blake finds us before something bad happens. The thought of not making it out of this situation turns my stomach. Not just for Natalia, but also for Blake. Knowing him as well as I think I do, this is something that he’ll forever blame himself for. There are so many things I never got a chance to tell him. My plan was to invite him over for dinner tonight so we could talk. Natalia has missed him like crazy and she would have loved to spend the night playing and snuggling with him. Every time the door would open, she would get all excited and take off for the kitchen, but for the last few days, she was only met with her grandma at the door.
And Natalia wasn’t the only one who has missed him. I have missed him, too.
I have missed him a lot.
I realized these past three days that I truly couldn’t blame Blake for not telling me about who he really was. It was a necessary safety net when it came to his job. If I’ve learned anything about him in the past month, it’s that he’s loyal and honest to a fault. He would never willingly deceive me without good reason. And I have to admit that his life is a good enough reason for me.
Late last night I also realized that Blake didn’t use me to get close to my father. I probably knew it all along, but sometimes it takes that bolt of lightning straight to the head to shock you into seeing the big picture instead of focusing on your anger. If Blake ever used our conversations as fishing exhibitions, it was because he was doing his job. My father was–is–the criminal here, and Blake’s job is to make sure the criminals of the world are taken off the streets so they can be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Never did I feel like those nights I spent wrapped up in Blake’s strong arms were because of anything other than him wanting to be there. Him wanting me. It’s a revelation I wish I had shared with him at three o’clock this morning when I was wide awake and missing him something fierce. Hindsight.
The thought of never experiencing Blake’s arms around me again makes my heart bleed. My vision blurs with unshed tears as I think about never telling him how much I love him. He told me a few days ago, and I threw it in his face like an insult. As if his words didn’t mean anything. But the thing is, those words meant everything to me. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time, hearing him say those three little words will forever be tattooed in my brain. So will my response before I walked away.
If I see Blake again, the first thing I’m going to do is throw my arms around him and kiss his full lips. If I close my eyes now, I can almost picture him standing before me, all broad and sexy in his dark blue jeans, tight black t-shirt, and worn leather jacket. His hair is slightly mussed from the breeze, and his emerald green eyes shine brighter than the sun reflecting off dewed grass. His jaw littered with a day or two’s growth. His tattoo–the one he got that represents his loyalty to his job, along with the wildflowers–on full display. My fingers itch to trace the outline of the eagle just once more. If I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him, it’ll haunt me for the rest of my days. Blake and the love we could have shared will always plague me.
I can’t–no, I won’t let this end without speaking the words I need to say. I will do whatever it takes to make it back to Blake. Not only for myself but for our daughter.
Natalia is curled up against my chest, fighting sleep with everything she has. Little whimpers fill the quiet garage space as she does everything she can to keep herself awake. I smile at how her stubbornness is the spitting image of Blake’s. She has so many of his personality traits that it’s not funny.
“Are you going to tell me what you want?” I ask, seemingly putting on my big girl panties and looking for a way to get us safely out of this situation.
“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“Who he really is.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, sweetheart, you may be okay with it, but I am not. Blake is a snake in the grass. And like any no-good snake, the only way to get rid of it is to cut off the head.”
“So, that’s it? You’re going to kill him? For what? Because he was smarter than you and took down the entire organization?” Baiting the criminal might not be my brightest idea, but I’m running out of options here.
“Funny you’re defending the man who put your father in prison.”
“My father put himself in prison when he chose the life of crime and theft. Blake was just the agent who helped bring him down.”
“Yeah, well I can’t get over it as quickly as you, sweetheart. I’m still pissed as hell. But I have a way of ensuring that Blake does exactly what I want. I’ve got his girl and his daughter. Now, I hold all of the cards.”
“What are you going to do with us?” I ask, afraid of what the answer might be, but I have to know what I’m up against.
“That’s up to Blake. If he cooperates, your daughter will lead a full, healthy life, and you’ll be there to see it. If he doesn’t, well…let’s just say that today is the last day you’ll ever see.” The look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. This man isn’t joking. He isn’t fooling around or blowing smoke up anyone’s ass. He’s serious. Dead serious.
“What is it that you want?” I ask swallowing the lump that is lodged in my throat.
“To have a little chat with Mr. Thomas,” he says while pulling a long barreled revolver out of the back waistband of his pants. “You see, I started to suspect that ol’ Blake was hiding something a few months ago. Oh, he was careful, that’s for sure. I didn’t find anything in his apartment that led me to his true identity. It wasn’t until the night that the cops showed up that all of the major pieces started to fall into place.”
The man turns his full attention to me. Natalia finally quiets down in my numb arms. “But I had been following him. I watched him come and go from your place several times, and it wasn’t until a few days ago that I really pieced together the fact that your kid was his. Suddenly, I realized I had a nice little insurance policy. A bargaining chip, if you will.”
When he steps towards me, I see a shadow fall momentarily over the window before quickly disappearing. I try to not look, keeping my eyes focused on him as much as possible so that I don’t tip him off. But in my peripheral vision, I see movement. My heartbeat picks up to near stroke level, but I do everything I can to school my facial expressions.
“I have a feeling Blake is searching for us right now. Hell, I’m counting on it,” he says with a malicious smile. He doesn’t point the gun at me, but he holds it firmly in his right hand.
I take slow, deliberate steps backwards as to not draw attention to the fact that I’m moving. “How long are you going to keep us here?” I ask. Keep him talking. Keep his focus away from the window, away from the door.
“Who knows? Could be an hour, could be a day. Hell, it could be a week before the big bad FBI finally get their thumbs out of their asses long enough to find the girl of one of their own.”
Movement behind the man catches my attention. The doorknob is moving. The air practically crackles with anticipation and nervousness. My entire body is alive with fear as I tuck Natalia as closely to my chest as possible. She actually passed out a few minutes ago, and her dead weight is wreaking havoc on the deadened muscles in my arms.
My leg bumps into a small engine on a stand. It’s not much, but I should be able to shield my daughter and most of myself behind the engine when things go down. And I can practically feel it in the air. Things are about to go down. The man before me
must sense it too because suddenly, the gun is being raised. I don’t think, I just move. Just as I get Natalia and myself tucked behind the hoisted car part, the door blows apart. Smoke fills the garage quickly as shouts echo off the walls. While I can’t make out what they’re saying over the wails coming from my suddenly awake daughter and the men filling the garage, I know one thing for certain: this man isn’t going down without a fight.
A single gunshot fills the air causing me to inhale quickly. I tuck Natalia under my chin and try to shush her with a soothing tone. But I’m sure at this point there is no soothing my fifteen-month-old daughter. Another gunshot rings out a second later followed quickly by several more. My heart is practically exploding out of my chest as the tears stream down my face; mostly from the smoke bomb released inside the confines of the garage. The whole scene feels like the longest moments of my life, but in reality, it all happens in a matter of seconds.
Suddenly I’m being picked up from my crouching position. The green eyes that stare at me, along with his build, are the same as Blake’s, but I know instantly that it’s not him. His scent is wrong and the way his hands wrap around me feels foreign, but friendly.
“Keep your head down,” he orders. The voice is familiar. Not because it belongs to the man I love, but because it belongs to his brother. I remember him from the night I met Blake.
I do as I’m told and am carried outside and into the setting sun. Natalia cries loudly against my chest as Luke carries me towards the back of a big SUV. “Are you all right?” he asks, setting me down only long enough to open the doors.
Luke deposits me on the hard surface, instantly checking me over for injuries. “I’m okay,” I mumble through coughs.
“Talk to me, Carly. Natalia. Is she okay?” he asks me urgently. His green eyes are wide with concern.
“I think so,” I tell him as I begin to check over my daughter. She appears completely fine except for a small red bump on the front of her forehead. When I jumped behind the engine, I think I might have hit her head and my arm on the unforgiving hard surface.
Luke tries to touch Natalia’s head, but she pulls back. “Is she alright?” he asks.
“I think so. It’s just a little bump.”
“We’ll have her checked out as soon as the ambulance gets here. And you? How’s your arm?” he asks, indicating to the red, scraped flesh on my right forearm.
“I’m sure it’s fine. It looks like just a scrape.”
“You’ll get checked out too,” he says before turning and looking towards the garage.
“Where’s Blake?” I ask as I follow his gaze to the garage. Men are filing out, but the activity appears to be high energy.
“Don’t worry about Blake,” he says but won’t meet my eyes.
“Luke?” I say, desperation seeping from my entire body. That one word hanging between us like an anvil.
Blake’s brother takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he focuses on me before saying the words I’ll never forget. “Blake was shot.” That’s also the first time I notice the blood on his hands.
Blake’s blood.
Chapter Thirty – It Hurts Like a
Mother…
Blake
Getting shot? Not all it’s cracked up to be.
When Luke and I entered the garage, all I saw was Styx holding a gun. I search through the haze of the smoke in the garage for any sign of Carly and Natalia, finally spotting a head of dark hair behind an engine hanging from a cherry picker. I take that as a damn good sign since they aren’t lying on the floor in a pool of their own blood.
Gun extended firmly and precisely in front of me, I scan the room until my eyes return to the cold, dark ones of Styx, the man who took my girl and my daughter. There is a standoff. Minutes feel like they pass when in reality, it is probably two seconds. The room is suddenly silent. I don’t hear my fellow agents as they work to clear the room, ordering the suspect to drop his weapon. I don’t hear the desperate cries of my one-year-old daughter, nor do I see the fear in the eyes of the woman I love more than life itself. I only see the man who took them. Styx moves his gun, pointing it square at my chest.
The shot rings out, filling the room with chaos and returned fire. I get one shot off before the pressure of the bullet I took takes me down to the ground. Suddenly, there’s quiet again, an eerily silent calm washes over my entire being.
Luke’s face hovers over me. I watch his mouth move, but no words appear to be coming out. It takes several seconds before sound returns to the room. “Blake, hang on, man,” he says as he applies pressure to my shoulder.
“No. Get Carly and Nat. Get them out of here, Luke. Promise me you’ll get them to safety.” My voice remains surprisingly firm as I ask my little brother to protect those I love the most.
“I got it,” he says with a decisive head nod. “Get the medic in here,” Luke yells to the room at large before standing up and moving away from me.
I watch until I’m unable to see him any longer. Please God, just let him find them unharmed, and get them out of here safely.
Another agent, Brock, hovers over me now, applying a painful amount of pressure to my shoulder. The pain that was absent before finally starts to set in. My entire upper body burns fire with the most intense fucking pain I’ve ever experienced. The image of Carly lying on my arm, sleeping with her beautiful long, midnight hair fanned out around the pillow, her eyes fluttering while she dreams is the last thing I recall before the blackness takes over.
* * *
Somewhere in the distance I hear a steady beep. It sounds like it is miles away. Hell, a universe away. I do everything I can to open my eyes, but there must be little weights pulling down my lids because I can’t seem to force my damn eyes open for nothing. I lie there quietly and as still as possible, as I try to figure out where in the hell I am. My entire body is stiff and sore and moving is more difficult than I thought it could be.
“Blake?” Her voice is like an angel speaking straight from the heavens. “Blake, can you hear me? Wiggle your fingers again,” she orders, her emotions clear in her sweet voice.
“Luke, I think he’s waking up,” Carly says in the darkness. My eyes flutter a little as bright light begins to seep in around my closed eyelids. “Keep moving your fingers,” she says.
I don’t know how, but I slowly lift my hand, seeking out her touch. When I feel her warm hand wrap around mine, contentment washes over me, and I feel at peace finally. Her hand strokes my fingers as she links them together in a way that symbolizes more to me than she’ll ever know. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to let her go after this. If I have to spend the rest of my life on my knees begging for her forgiveness, then that’s what the fuck I’ll do. There will never be another Carly. No one will ever replace her in my life or my heart. She’s it. The one.
“Open your eyes, Blake.” This from Luke. I instantly want to punch him in the face for interrupting my private, mental moment with Carly.
“Leave us alone,” I mumble through the driest throat I’ve ever had. His smug laugh fills the room as I blink repeatedly, trying to open my eyes.
When I finally crack them open, I wish to fuck I hadn’t. The light is so bright I’m afraid I’ll never be able to see right again. After a few minutes, I try again, blinking and willing my heavy eyes to open. As I crack them open, I finally see the most beautiful sight ever. The only thing to top it was the first time I laid eyes on her. And maybe the first time I saw her holding our daughter.
“Welcome back,” Luke says with a big grin. Well, I assume he’s grinning because I hear it in his voice. But I don’t look at him. I can’t look at him. My eyes are riveted to the love of my life.
Tears pour from her stunning brown eyes as they remain glued to me. If I could sit up, I’d wrap my arms around her and never let her go. I’d hold her so damn tight, she’d pass out from lack of oxygen. I long to kiss those tears away, to make all that is bad disappear.
&n
bsp; “Don’t cry,” I choke out, my tongue feeling like it weighs five pounds. Saw dust. It feels like I swallowed saw dust.
“You’re awake,” she says with a small smile.
“Yeah.” Blinking appears to be a chore right now, and the desire to close my eyes and pass out is great. But my need to see her, touch her is greater. “What happened?” I ask.
Luke is there a few seconds later with a glass of ice water. He places the straw directly against my lips, and I slurp greedily what feels like the first drink of cool liquid I’ve had in days. “Do you remember anything?” he asks while taking a seat on the edge of my bed.
Thinking back, pieces of the puzzle start to slip into place. “I remember going into the garage, but that’s about it. I remember everything that led up to that point, but everything after that moment is a little fuzzy.” Carly still holds my hand securely within both of hers in a death grip. It’s like she’s afraid that if she lets go, I’ll slip away. Well, that’s not ever fucking happening. I want to lift my other arm, but it’s held down by something tight and restricting.
“We followed the first sweep of agents into the garage after they detonated the smoke bomb. You were right next to me as we went in. Styx was there and had a gun. He wouldn’t drop it for nothing even after ordered to multiple times. When he took one look at you, he pointed it at your chest from about ten yards out. He got a shot off and hit you in the shoulder. Before you went down, you returned fire, hitting him center mass. He took three other rounds to the chest before dropping to the concrete.”
“Good,” I say definitively. I definitely won’t be losing any sleep at night knowing that Styx is gone.
“It was a fishing exhibition to get the bullet out. It didn’t go clean through like we’d hoped. It took a little over two hours to dig it out and repair the damage. You’ll be out of commission for a while, but they’re hoping you’ll have full-range of mobility and motion with a little bit of therapy.”