I hadn’t been in this part of town since I had moved out of my parents’ home. As soon as I signed the lease for my first apartment, my mom and dad put the house on the market, sold it incredibly fast, and following the stereotype they so abhorred, moved to Florida. It was strange to be back in the old neighborhood. It hadn’t changed much, and the simple knowledge that my best friend was back made it seem like I was taking a drive down history lane. I parked the car out in the street. There was a black car taking most of the driveway. I couldn’t imagine Jem driving that old-fashioned Cadillac. And with tinted windows! What was he thinking, buying that kind of car? It didn’t go with his personality at all.
It was odd that Jem had moved into his parents’ home. His mom and dad had followed my own into the land of the pink flamingo, but had decided not to sell the house. They had rented the place off and on for the few years it had been vacant, but I had lost track of whom—if anybody—was living there. I walked up the concrete path to the front porch and was surprised to see the door was ajar. Leave it to Jem to fall back into his old ways. His mom often complained about his carelessness and total disregard for safety. I chuckled under my breath, remembering the tongue lashings he used to get because of that.
Hesitantly, I pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. Should I go in? I took a few hesitant steps in the foyer and called Jem’s name softly. No reply. Yeah, Jem was still messy. There was an overturned coat and umbrella stand, and a tote bag had fallen off the wooden bench, its contents scattered on the rug. Men! The distant sound of muffled voices reached my ears and, without thinking, I stepped inside the house, closing the door behind me. Following the voices, I padded across the hallway toward the kitchen, trying to hear what was being said. Jem was not alone. I could hear at least two male voices furiously talking in hushed tones, but I couldn’t tell whether Jem’s was one of them.
By the time I was facing the closed kitchen door, I realized that the two voices I heard were not his. He must be entertaining friends—and by the looks of the car parked outside, wealthy ones to boot. I almost turned around and left, but if I didn’t talk to him now I would likely get cold feet later and never do it.
Coming to a decision, I wrapped my hand around the handle and pushed the door open. “Jem, I need to talk….” My voice died at the sight of Jem, gagged and trussed up like a turkey, sitting on a kitchen stool. The two men flanking him looked up at me in surprise, and I froze. Stupid move, as it turned out, for the two Men in Black lookalikes bolted in my direction and, before I could turn around and run, they had me by the arms.
“What the hell are you doing? Jem, what’s this?” Again, stupid of me; my ex-friend stared at me with wild eyes, thrashing on the stool, trying to free himself from the ropes that tied him.
Next thing I knew, a sweaty hand covered my mouth and nose and pulled me against one of the men. It smelled of onions and something sour. The girl I thought I had left in the past suddenly surfaced, and I did what I had done at the age of ten when someone tried to take my puppy away from me; I buried my vampire-sharp teeth into the gag-inducing flesh of the man’s hand. He wailed, his voice as eardrum piercing as a siren, and he let me go. I bolted for the door, but his partner in crime grabbed one of my arms and held me in place with a viselike hold. The wooden handle of a broom caught my eye. I thrust my free arm out and, tightening my hand around it, I swung it wildly, hitting the two men square in the chest. Damn, I was aiming at the head. Why am I so short?
“Ouch, son of a bitch! This one is a wild one.” The broom was yanked from my hand, and soon I was just as tied and gagged as Jem was. I was so mad and frustrated that I forgot to be scared. That would come later, once the adrenaline wore off. “Now we have to take this one, too. Damn!”
The two hulks threw both of us over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes and carried us outside where they unceremoniously stuffed us into the trunk of the car. Is no one watching this? There we were being carried away like turkeys for the Thanksgiving table, and no one in the neighborhood saw it. Unbelievable.
More adrenaline pumped into my veins as I lay in a fetal position, Jem’s shoes on my face. I jerked a little and, by the sound of the muffled groans, I must have hit Jem’s face with my shoes. We were like two sardines in a very tiny and very hot can.
The car started and, for what felt like an eternity, it jolted and thrust both of us against each other. I was going to be all black and blue. That was, if we were going to see another day. The adrenaline seemed to be waning and fear was creeping in, a trickle at a time. When the car finally came to a stop, so did my heart, it seemed. What was going to happen now? And for that matter, why had those men kidnapped us?
The sunshine blinded me when the trunk popped open, and hands roughly pulled us out of the car and carried us into a building nearby. I took a good look around. I watched a lot of mysteries on TV and I knew it was important to have a good idea of our surroundings if we were to run for it. I had no idea where we were. The area was devoid of any special markers other than the red building in front of us—a small barn, maybe. Everything else was covered in tall beige grasses that waved in the breeze like boneless ghosts, punctuated here and there by a solitary tree.
The building turned out to be storage of some sort. They carried us through a short corridor into a large room, empty besides some old furniture and a few boxes. We were dropped like trash bags on a bed and our gags painfully removed. I would never look at waxing the same way again. I looked at Jem, who seemed as stunned as I felt.
“No point in yelling for help,” one of the hulking men said, the gun in his hand pointed at us. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, and the walls of this building are insulated and thicker than the Pentagon’s. So if you really want to scream, knock yourselves out, but if I were you I’d save it.” Without any further explanation, he cut the ties off our wrists, turned around, and left with his partner, closing the heavy door behind them.
The light coming from the dirty skylight inundated the room with a sickly hue that offered very little comfort. I felt spent.
“Let me untie the ropes from your ankles.” I figured that doing something—anything—was better than sitting there wondering what exactly had just happened. I rolled off the bed and fell onto my knees to fight with the tight knots around Jem’s ankles. He was very quiet. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Ankles freed from their ties, Jem got on his knees and proceeded to untie mine. “What were you doing in my house, Em?”
I bristled. “So it’s my fault that this happened, is it?”
Jem waved his hand. “No, of course not. I only wish you hadn’t shown up when you did. Now I’ve dragged you along into this mess.”
I rubbed my achy ankles and stared at him. “What is this mess exactly? What the hell happened?”
Jem leaned back on the bed, legs stretched in front of him, and brushed his unruly curls away from his forehead. “They think I know where Tina is and they want to make sure I tell them.” My heart skipped a beat. “We’re in big trouble, Emily Rose. Huge.”
Like an idiot, I just stared. Words were stuck in my throat and refused to come out. What the hell had I got myself into? And all because of this birdbrained crush I had on my best friend. I sputtered a little and then gave up on saying anything, choosing instead to swat Jem.
He recoiled and raised his arms to protect himself from the surprise attack. “Stop, Em! What the hell are you doing?”
“I hate you, Jeremy Peter,” I yelled while whacking him across the chest and shoulders and hating myself for having such a weak punch. “You brought me into this mess. I was fine before you came back.”
Jem managed to grab my hands and stop me from hitting him again. I struggled against his hold, but he was stronger. Soon, he had pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “Stop, Em. I’m sorry. I really am. I never thought this would happen or I would have never come back here.”
My voice, muffled by his soft cotton T-
shirt, felt like it was coming from someone else. “I was happy, Jem. I have a great boyfriend, an awesome job…. I had everything under control, and then you show up and totally mess things up for me. Why did you do it? Why?” Tears burned in my eyes, and I rubbed my face on his shirt in a futile attempt to hold them at bay.
I felt Jem’s hand brush over my head in a comforting caress, and my traitorous heart quivered a little. “Because….” His voice was soft and barely audible, his breath blowing a few strands of hair into the side of my face. “Because I realized I love you. I’ve always loved you. I just didn’t know. I was too young and stupid to understand how I really felt about you, always chasing the excitement of new faces, new girls. I’m sorry, Emily Rose. The last thing I want to do is put you in any kind of danger.”
I sniffed, getting a sick satisfaction in messing up his T-shirt with my mascara. “Well, you did a very poor job at that.” An unexpected chuckle rose to my mouth and came out before I could stop it. “A really bad job.”
A rumble started under my ear, and I pulled away enough to see him laughing, his head thrown back in amusement. “God, I missed your sense of humor.” Still holding me close, Jem deposited a kiss on the top of my head and let me go. “I’m really sorry. When Tina told me this was a real risk, I thought she was trying to scare me into staying in France. It looks like she wasn’t kidding after all.”
I wiped the smudged mascara off my face with the back of my hand. “I must be a vision right now.” I giggled a little, inordinately glad I had found a tissue wadded up in my pocket.
“You always look beautiful to me.” Argh, why did he insist on being sweet when I wanted to hate him so badly? I wiped my eyes and my face, finishing it all off with a loud blow of the nose. Maybe if I looked a little disgusting he would change his mind. “What are we going to do?”
A quick look around told me what I already knew: it didn’t look like there was any way out of this place. I was not one to give up though. I jumped to my feet, trying out my half-numb legs, and walked around. “Come on, let’s explore. I’m sure there’s something we can do.”
Jem laughed again but didn’t get up. “I love your optimism, but those guys aren’t fooling around. They wouldn’t leave us here with our hands untied if they weren’t sure that we’re stuck.”
“Really? You’re just going to sit there and do nothing?” I gave him the look I often threw at my sister when she came up with some of her insane ideas. “What a wimp!”
That got him. Standing up quickly, he walked toward me. “You really think we can get out of this mess?”
I turned around to face him again. “What exactly did they say at the house before I got there?”
“They said they knew I was in with Tina and that they couldn’t afford to have a loose cannon on their hands.” Jem knitted his eyebrows and licked his oh-so-luscious lips. What is wrong with me? “One of them said they were going to ‘sit on this one’ until they figured out what best to do. Did you see their size? They could snap us in half if they decided to.”
Jem had some muscles on him and he could probably take one of them, but two? Doubtful, I had to admit. “At least we know they aren’t ready to do whatever it is they end up doing to us.” Miss Optimistic, my sister always called me. “Do you know anything?” I eyed him, an eyebrow raised.
“No, I know nothing at all.” He sighed. “I made sure Tina never confided in me. Not that she would anyway,” he added under his breath. “Hell, what a freaking mess!”
My bra vibrated, making me jump in surprise. Turning my back on Jem, I slid my hand inside my shirt and removed my cell phone. “It’s my sister.”
Jem’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth fell open in a comical way. “Where the hell did that phone come from?”
I pointed at myself while answering the call. “Celia? So glad you called—” Jem crossed the space between us in a long stride and snatched the phone from my hands. “Hey, I was talking to my sis.”
“Are you insane? Why didn’t you tell me you had a phone on you? How come those guys didn’t find it?” Too many questions, too fast. He waved the phone over his head like a lunatic, and I stretched my hand out to him with a not-so-happy look. “Where did you have the damned phone?”
I could hear the voice of my sister from a distance. “I forgot I had it. I always keep it tucked in my bra so I don’t have to carry it.” I stretched my hand out again. “Can I please have the phone back?”
Reluctantly, he gave it to me. “Un-freaking-believable! You are totally nuts.” He used to be much nicer before his French adventure. He walked to the bed, sat down, and dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head.
“Celia, are you still there?” My sister sounded frantic on the other end of the line. “Listen, something happened….” I gave her a brief report on what had transpired since I left Marcy’s store that afternoon. “We’re somewhere in the middle of nowhere and those guys are coming back anytime to deal with us. We need help.”
“What is Jem doing? Is he okay?” my sister asked.
I threw a quick glance at my ex-best friend, still sitting on the bed, mumbling to himself. “I think he may have lost his marbles.”
“I did not lose my marbles!” Jem stood up and strode to my side, yelling at the phone. “Your sister has gone mad, Celia. Kookier than the Mad Hatter.”
“I can tell you guys are getting along famously.” Leave it to Celia to focus on the wrong thing. “So, should I call the police?”
I bit my tongue. Really? Did she even have to ask? “Of course, Celia. I’ll leave the phone on so they can track it.” Then, as a thought occurred to me, I added, “And let Dave know, please.”
Two very blue orbs were fixed on me when I stuffed the cell phone back into its hiding place. “You’ve always been weird, beautiful.” Now what did that mean?
In spite of myself, I felt my legs go a little wobbly underneath me and I took a seat next to him on the bed. The only bed in the place. Hell, no. I was not going to share that bed with Jem. No way. I squeezed my eyes shut and conjured my child self in a litany of prayers. God, please make the police get here before we have to sleep. Or knock me out completely. I could feel my resolve to tell Jem I didn’t want him in my life dissipate quickly. I needed to get out of there.
***
The police didn’t come to rescue me from the cruel fate of having to share a bed with Jem. I would have to have a little chat with the Chief of Police about this lack of immediate action. The possibility of death was a very real threat hanging over our heads. The possibility of me losing control and giving in to my lustful instincts even more real and threatening. Damn you, cops, and your slow GPS trackers! It happened so fast on TV. Why couldn’t it be that quick in real life?
The night had fallen so suddenly it felt as if someone had switched off the lights. The building was suddenly immersed in dusky light from the full moon outside. We had found a small lamp behind a box and could at least see each other and our immediate surroundings. Further exploration had uncovered a small half bathroom with running water, a box of water bottles and granola bars, and boxes full of junk that neither belonged or would be in any way useful to us. We had exhausted all possible distractions from the fact that there were two of us and only one very small bed.
At first we sat gingerly side by side, munching on the stale granola bars and sipping water from the bottles. Talk was scarce and awkward. We seemed to have reverted to being young teenagers on a first date. I looked up and saw the full moon peeking down on us, as if mocking our discomfort. “All we need now are some werewolves to come and scratch on the door.”
Jem looked at me as if I had gone crazy—which I probably had. “Werewolves?” I pointed at the round cheesy face of our moon, and he chuckled. “I see. I think we’re safe from them inside here.”
But was I safe from him? Or at least from this overwhelming pull he had on me? I didn’t trust myself. Think of Dave, think of Dave, you foolish girl.
A glance
at my watch told me it was nearly eleven o’clock. My eyes were starting to droop, but I didn’t want to be the first one to give in. “Are you tired?” I asked him with a sideways look. As if on cue, he yawned. “I guess you are.”
“I’m going to shut my eyes for a while.” He crawled on top of the bed and made room for me beside him. “Come on, you need to rest.” Oh my God, this is it! The moment I was dreading. On one hand, I cringed at the idea of lying there, Jem spooning me as if we were lovers. On the other, I was looking forward to it a little too much. Hesitantly, I swung my legs up on the bed and allowed my back to align with Jem’s long body. The small cot wouldn’t allow any decent space between us.
Jem draped his arm over me after pulling the threadbare throw to cover us. I lay stiffly, practicing my shallowest breathing so my body didn’t move at all. I could hear and feel Jem’s slow breathing on the back of my head. He had fallen asleep. When the cell phone vibrated in my bra, I almost jumped out of my skin. “Celia?”
“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?” My sister’s voice was a balm to my soul. Until that moment I hadn’t realized how scared I really was, distracted by the whole Jem factor. “The police want to talk to you.”
I was whispering, hoping not to wake Jem up. A sleeping Jem was so much easier to resist. “I’m okay. How come the police haven’t located us yet? It’s been hours.”
The voice from the other end was not my sister’s anymore. “Miss Lambert, we are having trouble with the GPS signal.”
“What do you mean? Did you try to… triangulate the signal or whatever it is you do? I have a perfect phone signal.” I realized I sounded slightly desperate. I must have drained the last of the adrenaline the last time I had used the bathroom.
“Something is jamming the GPS signals.” I whimpered. “Don’t worry. All this means is that it will take a little longer to locate you guys. We’re thinking you must be close to a military facility of some kind. Just like we can track GPS signals, we can as easily track a jammer. Hold on tight for a little longer.”
Loved You Always Page 7