by Rye Hart
“I knew. I knew someone was following us that day at the museums. I knew that same man was on the beach that day.”
“And you told Kevin about it.”
“This is not his fault.”
“I’m not saying it is. I’m simply pointing out that it’s not yours,” she said.
“Why did I agree to do this? If I hadn’t taken this job, Kevin couldn’t have worked. He would have been with his kids and gone home after the first week, and none of this would have happened.”
“You’re not seriously suggesting that you taking the job led to Sydney being kidnapped, are you?”
“I’m saying it didn’t fucking help things, Morgan.”
Sighing, I slumped against my bed. I didn’t even have the energy to climb into it. Telling the story to Morgan made it seem even more impossible than it was. And yet, it was still happening. Sydney was still gone, the police still didn’t have any leads, and Kevin was slowly going crazy. The ransom note had not been followed by any other communication so far.
“I can hear you blaming yourself,” Morgan said.
“I should have paid closer attention to Daniel,” I said, breathlessly.
“Do you want my honest opinion?”
“No.”
“It sounds like whoever these people were, they’ve been watching you for a while. And if this was their plan or whatever, then there was nothing you could have done to stop it.”
“I could have gone with her into the house, and fought off whoever was in there,” I said.
“And let Daniel drift out to sea?”
“He had floaties on.”
“Are you hearing how idiotic you sound?”
“What else am I supposed to think? What else am I supposed to tell myself? I’ve got a man who’s incapacitated, a young boy who keeps asking when his sister is coming home, and a house that’s falling apart. And it’s not even my house!”
“Then come home, Brooke.”
“How the hell can you even suggest that?” I asked.
“Because it’s better than blaming yourself for a kidnapping you had nothing to do with. Someone planned it, funded it, and carried it out. They and they alone are to blame.”
A soft knock came at the door before it was pushed open. Daniel was standing there with tears running down his face. I opened my arm to him and he came running, jumping into my lap. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and I began to shush him, trying to quell the shaking body of the little boy in my arms.
“I have to go. Daniel needs me.”
“Do you want me to fly back?” Morgan asked. “Because I will.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”
“Okay. But if you change your mind, I’m on the first flight out.”
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hung up the phone and cradled Daniel in my arms as he cried into my shirt.
That was the thing about all of this. Daniel was growing closer to me, and Kevin was slipping away. I couldn't imagine the pain he was going through. It was hard to wake up each morning and feel it all again, and Sydney wasn’t even my child. But he had a son who needed him, and he was catatonic.
Sitting on the porch, like Sydney would come swimming in at any moment.
I had no idea what to do. These were not my kids. They were not my family. Kevin was not my husband. And yet, I felt a tug to stay, to get them through this terrible time. To clean up after them and make sure they were okay. To help in whatever way I could to get Sydney back. I had to be there for Daniel. I couldn't leave him when his own father couldn't operate well enough to even take care of himself.
I had to keep a clear head. I couldn’t afford to lose myself in grief. Kevin was slowly doing that, which meant someone had to be here to pull him back. No matter how this panned out, someone had to be clear-headed enough to pull him back from the brink.
To remind him he still had a child that needed him.
I rocked Daniel side-to-side until he fell asleep in my arms. Soft snores broken with wet coughs filled the room, and I stood so I could tuck him into my bed. I wrapped him up tightly and watched him turn over on his side, pulling the comforter up to his chin. It was the only time he looked peaceful anymore. The only time he looked as if things were right with the world. When he was relaxed and sleeping, unaware of the chaos around him. I reached for the remote and turned on the television, hoping it would keep him lulled in a deep trance.
Deep enough to give me time to take care of Kevin.
Walking out of the room, I made my way to the porch. There he sat, in the same suit he’d been wearing for the past four days. The stubble on his face had grown out and he hadn’t bathed in days. I could smell him, even from inside the kitchen. I walked out onto the porch and placed my hands on his shoulders, but instead of flinching, all he did was allow his head to fall back against me.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said.
“There’s gotta be something.”
“Just watch Daniel for me.”
“Kevin—”
“I don’t need you to do anything but watch my son,” he said.
“But I want to help. Let me help, Kevin.”
“You are helping,” he said.
He reached his hand up and grasped mine. “You’re here,” he said. “That helps more than you’ll ever know.”
I wrapped my fingers around his hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. His thumb stroked the top of my skin, trying to reassure me, even though I was the one who needed to be strong. I swallowed thickly and gazed out over the ocean, allowing myself to be sucked in by its beauty.
I understood why Kevin was allowing himself to be entranced by it.
It was the only shred of beauty still left on the property.
A knock at the door pulled us both from our trance. Kevin shot up from his seat and tugged me into the house. We went striding down the hallway toward the front door and yanked it open to find two police officers standing on the porch.
“Do you have something?” Kevin asked.
“What is it?” I asked.
“We want to know if you recognize this man,” the officer said.
A picture was held out in front of us and I felt my body go numb. My mind rushed back to the museum.
“That’s him,” I said, breathlessly.
“Who?” Kevin asked. “Who is that?”
“The man that was following us at the museum. The man at the beach that day.”
“So, you have seen him?” the officer asked.
“Yes. The kids and me. Last week. We were, um—”
My body was trembling as Kevin’s hands fell to my shoulders. He began to massage them, willing my body to settle down enough so I could talk in coherent sentences.
I couldn't lose it now.
Sydney needed my testimony.
“We were at the museums. The kid’s science museum and the history exhibit across the road. That man was following us on the tour and then he was watching us from across the road when we got in a cab to come home.”
“Have you seen him anywhere else?” the officer asked.
“A few days ago, on the beach. He was standing just at the edge of the property looking out over the water,” I said.
“And you’re sure it’s him?” the officer asked.
“I’m one hundred percent positive.”
“Could I get a copy of that picture?” Kevin asked.
“We’ll have someone bring a copy by your house as soon as possible.”
“Good,” I said.
“This is the only lead we’ve got, so we’re running with it. Facial recognition, traffic cameras, that sort of thing. Once we have a name, we can see if he owns property and pull up possible accomplices. Have you heard anything more since the ransom note?”
“No,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “But I’m more than willing to pay it. Why won’t you just let me pay it?” he asked.
> One of the officers shook his head and placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Because, Mr. Spencer, in our experience, paying the ransom doesn’t always guarantee that the child will be returned. And it also gives the kidnappers more resources to cover their tracks. I promise you, we are doing everything we can to find your daughter and return her safely to you.”
Kevin nodded his understanding.
“Thank you,” Kevin said. “Thank you for all you’re doing.”
The officers walked away, and Kevin shut the door. His hands slid from my shoulders and I slumped over, exhausted from the effort it took just to stand these days. I turned around and watched Kevin drag himself back to the porch. He was just as exhausted as I was.
I watched him until he sat back in his chair, his eyes focusing on the horizon again.
Then I fell against the door, sliding down to my ass as tears welled in my eyes and ran down my cheeks.
CHAPTER 21
KEVIN
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, then stood and watched the rain beat down on the island. Out there somewhere my daughter was scared, and I wasn’t there to protect her. Tears filled my eyes as I brought the glass to my lips, grimacing as the fire cascaded down my throat. I could feel the alcohol traveling all the way to my empty stomach. It was the only thing sustaining my body at this point. The only thing that seemed to take the edge off. I jumped every time the phone rang, and my heart broke every time my son cried. I’d hear Brooke walking around the house and I would think it was Sydney. The ache when I saw it was Brooke instead, would remind me of how my daughter was gone. The guilt for one thing or another would settle in again.
My body was in upheaval, and I needed the alcohol to dull the sensations.
This was all my fault. I’d known Gianni was into some bad shit. Twenty years of friendship bought me rights to his past. I’d heard the rumors that flew around him, the type of reputation he had in our community. But we had scratched each other’s backs plenty of times during the rise of our companies, so I trusted him as much as I could. And that decision had come back to bite me in the ass. My baby girl was gone. Kidnapped.
Right out of my fucking house.
The patter of small feet clenched my heart, but I knew it wasn’t her. I knew it was only Brooke, and the guilty disappointment filled my chest cavity. Having Brooke around was the only thing keeping me afloat, and yet there was disappointment and anger every time she wasn’t Sydney walking around the corner. I turned to face her and saw how haggard she was. For the first time in days, I saw the toll this was taking on her, how sunken her cheeks were and how pale her skin had become. The wall was literally holding up her body as she slouched against it. She could barely keep her eyes open and they were bloodshot with constant tears.
I reached for a glass and poured her a stiff drink, then walked it over to her shaking hand.
She tossed it back and I watched her down four shots of whiskey in two gulps. Her face grimaced with the burn before she tossed the glass haphazardly onto the kitchen counter. She raked her hands through her hair as fresh tears appeared and fell faster than the rain outside, and I downed the rest of my own drink as her sobs became audible.
“Come here,” I said.
“No,” she said.
She fought me as I wrapped my arms around her, locking my wrists as she bucked against my chest, a weak and frivolous effort that proved to me how much sleep she wasn’t getting, and how much food she wasn’t eating. The strength was dwindling from her as she worried over Sydney and ran after Daniel and tended to me. I had left her to fend for herself. To take care of my son while I wallowed in my own self-pity. She beat her fists against my chest as I pulled her closer, her body slowly collapsing into mine.
“Please, make it stop,” she said, breathlessly. “Make it stop, Kevin.”
I stared blankly at the wall as I moved with her efforts. Her feet dug in and her body arched into me, but I strengthened my grasp on her. It was time for me to be there for her. To fight her the way she had fought me. I was shaking with the effort as her face fell into my chest, and her hands that fought me were suddenly clinging to my shirt.
Pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, between sobs. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I should have been with her. I shouldn’t have let Daniel get so far out from shore. I should have just gone home in the first place.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I whispered. “And I don’t want you to go.”
Her arms wrapped around my waist as I placed a kiss on the top of her head.
“I really don’t want you to go,” I said.
She wailed into my chest as her tears soaked my shirt. I backed myself into the kitchen counter before I picked her up in my arms. I turned around, setting her down on the edge as her hands crept around my neck. I held her steadily to my body, feeling her shake violently as her face slid to the crook of my neck. She was crying. Gasping for air. I stroked her back rhythmically, moving my hands up her shirt in a desperate attempt to try and get her to settle down.
To coax her through the pain she’d been choking down to keep Daniel and I moving forward.
I stroked her smooth skin as her hands tangled in the tendrils of my hair. I kissed the side of her cheek. The shell of her ear. The dip in her neck. Anything to settle her down and keep her from wailing. The sound was earth-shattering. Heartbreaking. Gut-wrenching. It made me sick to my stomach to listen to, and I couldn't take it any longer. Her grasp tightened around my neck as my lips peppered her skin, my hands digging into the tenderness of her back.
“What are we going to do?” Brooke whispered.
“The only thing we can do,” I said.
She lifted her eyes to mine as our noses nuzzled together.
Our eyes connected as my hands slipped down to her ass.
“Hope,” I said.
I crashed our lips together and her body arched into mine. I yanked her shirt over her head grabbed handfuls of her tits. My thumbs danced over her engorged peaks as my cock sprang to life, pressing against the thin material of my suit.
The suit I’d worn for four fucking days.
I bit at her neck as she stretched out on the kitchen island. I nibbled on her chest and drew her nipples into my mouth. I ripped her shorts off and fumbled with my pants, shoving them down my body. My cock was leaking. Dripping for her. Begging my body and my mind to forget the torrential storm raging in my brain. Veins pulsed in my groin and hairs stood on the back of my neck. I shoved my fingers into Brooke’s damp pussy and worked her clit with my thumb.
Worked her until she was bucking and writhing on the kitchen counter.
I stepped out of my pants and pulled my fingers from her body. I clambered up onto the counter and spread her legs with my hands. Throwing them over my shoulders, I gripped her hips, pulling her heated pussy close to my cock. I sheathed myself within her, watching my cock bury itself into her. Inch by inch. Push after push. Until our hips connected and her clit was exposed to my body.
I pushed her back and pulled her to my body, slamming my cock in and out of her. Our hips snapped together, and I watched her tits bounce as her fingernails dug into my thighs. The harder I fucked her, the deeper her nails sank into me.
I dropped down onto her body, folding her in half. Her hands clawed at my shirt, ripping it open as buttons flew around the kitchen. I nibbled on her lip and rolled deep into her warmth, her pussy drenching my skin. I bit down on her lip as she moaned. Her hands tugged at my hair and she pressed my face into her tits. I bit down into her skin, pulling patches of her salted tenderness into my mouth and suckled until she whimpered.
She called to me.
Hummed for me.
Begged for more as her pussy clamped down around my cock.
I pounded into her as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the corners of the kitchen. The thunder began to creep closer and the lightning began
to play off the curves of her body. My cock throbbed against her, grew within her body as her walls fluttered around me. I could feel that she was approaching her end. I could see it in her eyes. The way she snarled and grunted. The way her hips somehow found leverage to rake against mine.
“Come for me,” I said. “Come for me, Brooke. Say my name.”
“Kevin. Kevin. Holy shit. Don’t stop. Fuck. Kevin. Kevin!”
Her body exploded, pouring juices down my cock, only to drip down my balls. Her back arched her tits into me and I slipped my arm underneath her body. Holding her close to me as her head fell back. Her eyes rolled back and her legs pulled taut against my shoulders. She was shaking. Quivering. Her nails dug so deep I could feel her breaking the top layer of skin.
I buried myself inside her, electricity shooting through my veins. Pumping my cock and triggering its release as my balls pulled into my body. I emptied myself into her. Pumped her full until my cum was shooting out from between her legs. Thick threads of release made me whimper and groan, binding the two of us together in a desperate attempt to forget.
Her legs slid from my shoulders and I collapsed on top of her, tangled up in her body as we sprawled out over the kitchen island countertop. I nuzzled her cheek and she wrapped her arms around my neck, smoothing my hair down and kissing the side of my head.
And all too quickly, my reality came crashing back.
I slid my cock from between her legs and settled myself onto the floor. I was shaking, wobbling on my legs as I helped her upright. For the first time since we’d reconnected, she covered her body with her arms. She crossed her legs and searched desperately for her clothing to cover herself from me. I could see the faint outline of her ribcage. The smooth hump of her hip bones.
Her guilt was literally eating her alive.
I held my hands out to help her down from the counter, but she shoved them away. She scurried off and collapsed to the floor and I reached down to gather her up. I slid my boxers up my body and bent over to grab her clothes, but she was already running through the house, scrambling to get back to her room and as far away from me as possible.