by Rye Hart
We drove for damn near an hour, winding our way through the outskirts of the city. Eventually, we entered a district of what looked like rundown, dilapidated old warehouses. I turned off my headlights and followed them through the warren of old buildings. They turned right up ahead of me and in the darkness, I saw the flare of brake lights. They were stopping. I stopped where I was and shut off the engine.
Quickly getting out of my car, I quietly closed the door and hurried to the corner of the building. Peering around the corner, I watched as Charles and his father moved to the trunk and started talking amongst themselves. The conversation they were having looked pretty animated. They were careful to keep their voices down though, making it impossible for me to hear them.
I didn't know what it was, but something told me it was, in fact, Avery in the trunk of that car. Call it intuition, a sixth-sense, or my Spidey Senses tingling. For some reason, as I stood there in the darkness of the night, I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, they had Avery and were planning something terrible.
Not knowing what else to do, I retreated back the way I came and hunkered down behind my car. Pulling out my cell phone, I dialed the number for the police. As I waited for the call to be connected, I looked around at the cracked, broken buildings. The windows in the warehouses had long been smashed out, and most of the buildings looked like they were on the verge of collapsing in on themselves.
I supposed if you wanted to dump a body, this would be the place to do it.
The call was connected and the woman on the other end of the line started speaking in French. My French was passable, but I was far from fluent.
“I need to speak to a detective,” I said in my broken French. “Somebody who speaks English, please?”
“English?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I replied, grimacing at how rough I sounded speaking their language. I swore if I got both Avery and I out of this mess, I was going to have her teach me the language too.
“Please hurry,” I said. “This is an emergency.”
“Stay on the line.”
She clicked off the line and I waited for several long, agonizing moments for somebody to pick it up again. I felt every single grain of sand slipping through the hourglass, my heart thundering in my chest, knowing Avery was running out of time. If they had her wrapped in a blanket in the trunk of their car, they hadn't brought her out there to sightsee. Assuming she was still alive, they'd brought here there for something terrible.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the line was picked up. It was a man whose English was accented with French but was very clear and concise. I peered over the car to make sure Charles and his father hadn't grown suspicious and weren't bearing down on me.
They weren't. I was still in the clear.
“Detective Moreau,” he said, his tone clipped.
“Detective,” I replied. “My name is Spencer Sullivan and I need to report a crime. A possible murder.”
“Murder?” he asked, his tone skeptical.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “My nanny has gone missing and I've followed two men who are carrying what looks like a body wrapped up in a blanket to an old warehouse district on the outskirts of town.”
“A body wrapped in a blanket, you say?”
“Yeah, it looks like it.”
“Are you sure it's a body you're seeing?”
“No, I'm not one hundred percent sure,” I snapped. “But it seems awfully suspicious that my nanny goes missing and the man I know she last saw, just so happened to be taking a mysterious object wrapped up in a blanket, out to an old abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night.”
There was a long pause on the line and I was beginning to fear the call had been dropped when I heard a soft chuckle on the other end of the line.
“Put that way, I suppose it does sound suspicious, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Can you please send some people out here?” I ask. “And get them here in a hurry? I don't know how much time she has left. I don't know what they're going to do.”
“Tell me where you are.”
I didn't have an exact address to give him, so I gave him the best approximation I could. He said he knew the area I was talking about and would send help right away.
“Where are you now, Mr. Sullivan?”
“I'm standing behind my car,” I said. “They're around the corner.”
“Good,” he said. “Stay there. Don't engage with the suspects. Keep your head down and stay safe.”
“Yeah, but –”
“Wait for help, Mr. Sullivan,” he said. “My officers will be there soon.”
I let out a long, frustrated breath. “Okay,” I said. “I'll wait.”
“Very good.”
The detective clicked off the line and I dropped the phone back into my pocket. I leaned against the car, looking at the corner of the building – wondering what they were doing in the alley. Wondering if I was right and it really was Avery they had in the trunk.
If it wasn't her though, why would they be here, in this decrepit part of town in the dead of night? It had to be her. I knew in my gut it had to be.
The other, more unsettling thought that rattled through my mind was that as I waited for the cops out by my car, they could be doing literally anything to Avery in there. For all I knew, they were in the process of murdering her and chopping her into a thousand pieces as I sat there doing nothing.
The detective told me to stay where I was and to stay out of it. Logically, I knew that was the smart decision. I wasn't a trained cop. I didn't know the first thing about dealing with a situation like that. I knew that if I went busting in on them, I could potentially be putting Avery's life even more at risk. I was more likely to actually get her killed than to save her.
But, on the other hand, I couldn't just stand there with my dick in my hand and do nothing. Could I?
No, I couldn't. If I did nothing, Avery was going to die. If I took action, she might still die – hell, we might still both die – but, at least she'd have a better chance of surviving the fight than if I simply left her to take care of herself. If Avery was going to die, she was going to die knowing I was trying to save her. I wouldn't leave her to her fate alone.
Standing up, I crept over to the corner of the building and peered around. The car was still there, the trunk standing open, but Charles and his father were nowhere to be seen. They'd obviously taken her into one of the nearby warehouses.
I moved slowly and deliberately, carefully picking my way along the cracked and pitted remains of the sidewalk. Trash and debris littered the ground. It was obvious there was a healthy homeless population in the area, though I didn't see anybody at the moment.
From a building up ahead of me, I heard what I thought was a muffled cry. It had sounded like a woman's voice. Avery. It had to be her. She was still alive. A powerful wave of relief washed through me. I hadn't realized there was a part of me that had already accepted the fact that I was searching for her body – not until I'd heard her voice. The feeling of relief was so deep and so profound. It also meant I had a chance to save her, to keep her safe. I rushed forward and paused at the edge of a broken window. Peering around it, I saw Charles and his father, both holding powerful flashlights, hauling Avery, who was gagged and had her hands bound in front of her, toward the back of the building. She was struggling and fighting like a demon and they almost lost their grip on her several times. She was not going to go down without a fight.
I wasn't going to let her go down at all. Not if I could help it.
I stepped through the doorway of the building just as she broke free from their grip. I saw her eyes widen when she saw me, and she rushed straight for me. I caught her and pulled her to me, embracing her tightly, my eyes never leaving the two men walking up to us. Charles stared at me malevolently, the hatred in his eyes burning bright. His father was holding a gun, casually pointing it at us. The look on his face was not hatred, but resignation. As if he was tired of having
to clean up yet another one of Charles' messes.
I quickly pulled the gag out of Avery's mouth. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“What are you doing here, Spencer?” she replied. “How did you even know where to find me?”
“Lola woke me when she didn’t find you in your room. I knew you had gone to see Charles earlier tonight. I took a chance and went to his house. I followed him here. The police are on their way,” I said, low enough that only she would hear me. I didn’t want Charles and his father getting desperate and doing something rash.
Charles’ father didn’t hesitate, though. He stepped up and put the barrel of the gun against my forehead. When he spoke, his English wasn’t quite fluent, but he got the point across.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said.
“Afraid I can’t do that.”
“Then you die too.”
Charles reached out and put his hand on his father's arm, forcing him to lower the weapon. I breathed out a silent sigh of relief.
“Why are you doing this, Charles?”
He shook his head and looked around. He looked confused, actually. It was as if he was searching for an answer to that question himself.
“I – I don't know,” he said. “I – she said she wasn't going to see me and I just got so angry. I'm not a man who enjoys hearing the word no. When she told me she wanted to be with you and not me, I snapped.”
” “You’re psychotic, you know that?” Avery hissed.
“I really wish you hadn't come tonight, Spencer,” Charles said, a note of genuine regret in his voice. “I didn't want you to have to die too.”
“Nobody has to die tonight, Charles,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, that's not true,” he said. “As I told Avery before, I can't risk either of you going to the police.”
“We won't,” I said. “Charles, we're business partners. You know my word is my bond. If I tell you, we all walk away right now and nobody goes to the police, you know it's true. You know I don't lie.”
Charles looked like he was starting to be convinced, but then his dad spoke to him in hushed tones, and his demeanor changed once more. Charles shook his head, genuine sorrow on his face.
“I am sorry, my friend. But, my father is right,” he said. “I'm an important businessman and have many deals that would fall through if my name were even linked with a scandal such as this. I would be ruined. There's too much to risk. I'm sorry.”
“Charles –”
“Enough,” his father roared. “You both die.”
“Let him go,” Avery said, stepping out from behind me. “He's not part of this. Let him go and I'll do whatever you want me to do.”
“Avery,” I snapped. “No. You can't do that. The girls would be devastated if anything happened to you.”
She shook her head. “They can't afford to lose another parent,” she said. “I'm replaceable. You're not.”
I looked her in the eye, holding her gaze, and put every ounce of the emotion I felt for her into my words.
“You are not replaceable,” I said. “Losing you would destroy me.”
Her eyes filled with tears and when she looked at me, I could see the emotion she felt for me in her eyes as well.
“This is all very touching,” Charles said. “I'm happy that you both found each other and all. But, you're missing the point. Neither one of you will be allowed to –”
Charles never got to finish his statement because I drew my hand back and punched him flush in the face with as much force as I could muster. The crack of flesh meeting flesh echoed around the ground floor of the warehouse like a gunshot. Charles' head snapped back and he stumbled backward, falling on his ass. Blood poured from his nose and his face darkened with rage.
Stepping forward, I pressed my advantage, seeing the slow reaction and confusion on his father's face. But, when I closed on him, he brought the gun up. I grabbed hold of his wrist and the fight was on. For an older man, he was surprisingly strong.
“Avery,” I called out. “Run. Run now. Get to my car. The keys are in it.”
“I don't want to leave y –”
“Get out of here now, goddamit!” I shouted. “Run!”
From the corner of my eye, I watched her turn and go. Still engaged with Charles' father, I saw Charles himself get up, blood still streaming down his face, to go after Avery. I stuck my leg out as he passed by, clipping his foot. Charles stumbled and fell, landing face first on the concrete floor of the warehouse. He howled in outrage and pain, but I saw that Avery had made it outside and to freedom.
Knowing she was safe, I really didn't care what happened to me anymore. She would live and I knew, would take good care of my girls. But, I had no regrets. Saving Avery and knowing she'd protect and raise them like a mother was all I needed to be happy.
That didn't mean I was going down without a fight though. I had ahold of the man's wrist and forearm and was struggling to make him drop the gun. He was strong though, and was pushing back against me, trying to lower the gun so he could shoot me in the face.
It was a back and forth affair and although I was physically stronger, he had better leverage. The muzzle of the gun was slowly lowering, inch by inch, and he'd be able to pull the trigger sooner, rather than later. I couldn't get better leverage on him, no matter how hard I tried. I grunted and gritted my teeth, redoubling my effort to get him to drop the gun.
He didn't. I was going to die.
Then the strangest thing happened.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Charles get to his feet, his face a dark mask of rage and blood. He rushed toward me, eyes burning with fury and hate, an enraged scream falling from his mouth. Charles swung one meaty fist at me, aiming for the side of my head. I was able to sidestep it enough, that he missed. His fist connected with his father's face, the crack and snap of bone audible even above his unintelligible screaming.
The older man staggered backward, blood flowing from his mouth and nose. He landed on his back, the air leaving him in a whoosh – and I was left standing there with the gun in my hand. As Charles wheeled back around on me, I raised the gun and pointed it at his face.
“Down on your knees,” I said, my voice cold. “And put your hands behind your head.”
He did as I told him, staring up at me with the angriest, most hate-filled eyes I'd ever seen on another human being. All because Avery had chosen me over him. It was sad, really. Charles as a rich, successful, good looking man. He could have practically any woman he wanted. Except for Avery – and being a man who doesn't take hearing the word no well, that had sent him over the deep end.
“Drop the gun!”
The voice startled me and I dropped the gun quite by accident. I turned to see a flood of cops come storming into the building, guns drawn, expressions stern. The man who'd shouted at me grabbed hold of me and started to slap on a pair of handcuffs.
“No,” Avery cried out. “He's not the one you want. It's the other two. They're the ones who kidnapped and tried to kill me. Spencer saved my life.”
The cop was unmoved and tightened the cuffs down on my wrists. I didn't blame him. It was a confusing situation and he didn't know who to believe yet. Best to cuff everybody until it all got sorted out. I looked over and saw Charles and his father, both on their knees, both with hands cuffed behind their backs. They cast dark, baleful looks in my direction.
The cop kept Avery from getting too close to me, even though she ranted and raved about them cuffing the wrong guy. She told him no less than a thousand times that I was the hero and Charles was the villain in this little melodrama.
“Spencer Sullivan?”
I turned to the sound of the familiar voice and smiled. “Detective Moreau,” I said. “Glad you could join us.”
“I thought I told you to stay out of this.”
I nodded. “I worried that if I waited too long, that Avery might be dead by the time you all got here.”
The detective nodded as if he understood. He
turned to the cop and motioned to me, telling him to take the cuffs off of me. The cop quickly complied, and Avery flew into my arms, pulling me to her in a tight embrace. She planted kisses all over my face and then went back to hugging me.
“We'll need you both to come give your statements,” Detective Moreau said. “When you get a moment.”
“Thank you, Detective.”
Moreau walked away, leaving us in privacy. “You could have been killed,” she said, looking deeply into my eyes.
“I wasn't going to leave you to those creeps,” I said. “I couldn't lose you.”
“But the girls –”
I let out a long breath. Yeah, it had been reckless. I could have been killed. Avery could have been killed – and then the girls would have been left with nobody. It was stupid. But, they wouldn't be able to recover from losing somebody they loved again any better than I could have.
Which meant, I had to try to save Avery. Not just for my own sake, but for the sake of my girls too.
“What's important,” I said, “is that we made it through this. You're alive and I'm alive. All I knew was that the girls couldn't lose you, Avery. And I couldn't lose you. Wouldn't lose you. I couldn't just sit by and wait while somebody else I love is taken from me.”
“Love?” she asked, her eyes wide. “You – love me?”
I nod, feeling my heart accelerating in my chest. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”
Avery threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight again. “I love you too, Spencer Sullivan.”
She gave me a kiss, her smile wider than I'd ever seen it. She was just so beautiful. Even after all we'd just gone through she was still simply breathtaking to me.
“Let's go give our statement to the detective,” I said. “Then get home to our girls.”
“Our girls,” she said.
I nodded. “Our girls.”
She smiled and helped me to my feet. We went outside and gave our statements to the detective, and then headed home.