NS

by U

  He had tried to hold back, take it slow, but knew that would not happen. The

  explosion had been quick though not hurried. She had clung to him and screamed as he poured his pent-up need into her accepting softness. They had showered together and he realized she had prepared a special meal for his earlier arrival. Her body had moved fetchingly in the confines of a slinky wrap as she heaped his plate. No complaints of his tardiness, no questioning his agenda beyond the bedroom and kitchen. Fascinated, he found himself wondering why such a sophisticated woman seemed so devoted and content.

  She had talked about her family but never bragged of her own accomplishments. Her

  questions were all about his comfort. She asked if he was tired and offered to lie with him until he was asleep. Back on the satin sheets, sleep had been furthest thing from his mind. He had wanted to graphically describe the ache in his groin, but had simply hugged her close against his rock hard arousal.

  Losing none of her refinement, she had topped his body. “I have missed this so much.”

  Her lips had held his in place as her tongue searched his mouth. “I know you’re all powerful on the football field. I love to see you move. I just hope you’re not too tired because I plan to ride you raw.”

  Thinking of that evening still made him shiver.

  For the sake of his heart, he tried to relive every special moment they had spent together.

  He thought of the highlights of their last weekend. Finding her asleep, but fully aroused, was a turn on like no other. The silhouette their bodies had created on the wall mirror was framed in his mind. Her head was thrown back, eyes half-closed, and lips pursed in anticipation. Just thinking of the bounce of her breasts and the sight of his shiny arousal entering and withdrawing from her core brought a severe ache to his groin.

  That was sex. The pain of seeing her with another man is different. “If she was faking, she’s damn good at it.”

  He hugged his knees and rocked on the bed. Beautiful women had floated in and out of his life. Only two had brought tears to his eyes. He wondered if Chelsea had known how he felt and purposely turned away. Living so intensely, he knew his feelings were hard to conceal, although sometimes even he did not fully understand them.

  He had planned to have her in his life without realizing it. His contract was up. While there was little doubt of a renewal from the Saints, other offers were being waved before him.

  Thoughts of leaving or staying in New Orleans now centered on Chelsea. He had planned to keep her close.

  Deep inside, he wanted to believe she had loved him. He replayed her message, picked up the phone and dialed Frankie’s number. “Hey. I just called to say how much I enjoyed being with you. How much I miss you.”

  “That’s a damn lie and you know it. This is Frankie you’re talking to, remember? I know you better than I know myself.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  “Okay, let me tell you what you’ve been doing. You left here last night, went to Atlanta and drank yourself sick in the hotel lobby. You probably woke up this morning wondering how you made it to your room. My guess is that you wanted to call Chelsea, didn’t have the nerve to do it and called me, or you called and couldn’t get her.”

  His low growl of a laugh became louder. “I guess you know me. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll stop feeling guilty for giving me something I asked for and really needed, and that you’ll get that woman on the phone and tell her how you feel. I’ll lay you odds she feels the same way.”

  “Yeah, that’s why she was salivating over the slick dude attorney.”

  “That was your take on the situation.”

  “I’ve been with Chelsea a long time. Just like you know me, I know her. I’ve seen guys try to hit on her when I wasn’t close by. Every time it happened, she dismissed them before I could take a step in her direction. She wasn’t doing that with this guy. She said he was trying to rile her, but I didn’t see her making the usual moves.”

  “She was…you said he’s an attorney. I’m sure Chelsea was mindful of keeping their

  working relationship intact.”

  “Wait a minute. That’s not what you started to say.” When she didn’t answer, he voiced his guess. “Did you call her?”

  “No, Mr. Magic, I did not call Chelsea.”

  “You know me pretty well, but I also know a little bit about you. Tell me what you started to say, and don’t lie. You were never good at it.”

  “I didn’t call Chelsea, but I think you should. I wanted to insist you do it last night, but knowing your hot tempter, I didn’t want you to make things worse. If you haven’t called her, do it now. If you called and didn’t get her, call again, and again. Tell her how you feel, Isaac. She needs to know. If she says she doesn’t love you, the only thing different is that you would have said out loud what anyone with a grain of perception can see on your face.”

  “I love you so much. I wish—”

  “Stop right there,” she interrupted. “Our time passed, baby. We’re too old for wishes and dreams. I know you love me, and I love you, but you’re head over heels, crazy in love with Chelsea, and she’s in love with you.”

  “And you didn’t call her?”

  “I swear I didn’t call her, but I’m going to hang up now, so you can.”

  Feeling much better, he dialed and listened to the soft voice on her machine. “Hey. I’m in Atlanta, but I want you to call me back. You’re right, we need to talk.”

  He waited almost thirty minutes and called again. “You said you were home all evening and the only place you don’t take your cell is the shower, so I’m sure you got my message. You don’t even have to talk, just listen, and we’ll take it from there.”

  An unexplainable sense of panic tore through him. Chelsea bathed rather than showered at night, especially if she was preparing for an evening at home. Maybe she didn’t make it home from Mama Rose’s. She could have had an accident. He clicked through the numbers stored in his phone and dialed Skip’s.

  “Hey man, it’s Isaac. Have you talked to Chelsea this evening?”

  “Not since about five. She was headed to Mama Rose’s and then home. Are you at her place?”

  “No, I’m in Atlanta. I left yesterday instead of today. Look, I don’t mean to get you upset over nothing, but I’m a little concerned. I got a message that she was headed home, and was not going out this evening. She asked me to call. I’ve been trying for about an hour and there’s no answer. I called her landline and her cell. I even called her direct line at the office in case she had to go back there. Can you just go by and make sure she’s okay?”

  “I’m on my way. Dee and I are in the area. We can be there in ten minutes.”

  Isaac took out her photograph. Her smile was magic, even on paper. If anything happened to her, especially now…I can’t even think that way. She’s okay. She has to be.

  * * * *

  The loft next to Chelsea’s belonged to a writer who spent summers in Colorado.

  She watched his place when he was away and he allowed her to use his garage, which is where Skip parked when he stayed over. After parking his car, Skip closed the garage door and opened the one on the other side, which belonged to Chelsea.

  “Wonder where she went. It’s almost midnight. She said she was staying home all

  evening.”

  Carrying a large box of barbecued shrimp, Dee followed him inside. “That’s what she told me, too. Said she had to review some facts in her case while they were still fresh in her mind. Maybe she went out for something to eat.”

  “She stopped at Mama Rose’s on the way home.” Skip unlocked the door. “She

  was here, but looks like she didn’t stay long.” He noticed the mess on the coffee table.

  “Something’s wrong. You know she never leaves the place like this. Do me a favor and call her cell. I’ll check with Mama Rose—”

  “Don’t bother. Her purse is under her briefcase o
ver here on the counter. Her

  phone is attached to the pocket. Where would she go without her purse? Her phone?”

  He pulled the phone from the outside pouch of Chelsea’s black leather handbag.

  “I don’t know where she would go without her purse, but she would never leave the house without her phone. You call Mama Rose. I’m calling David.”

  The cell phone rang in his hand, startling both he and Dee. “That’s Isaac’s

  number.” Waiting for another ring, he answered. “Hey, man. She was here, but she isn’t anymore. Her car is gone, the place is empty, and there’s a little mess on this bronze table she loves.”

  “Do you think—”

  “I’m trying not to right now,” Skip interrupted. “There are too many possibilities. Dee is calling Mama Rose. I’ll call David and see if he thinks there’s reason to worry.”

  “It’s almost eight. She’s not home but her purse and cell are? She left me a

  message that she would be in all evening. I’d say that’s plenty of reason to worry. Call David and call me back.”

  Isaac sat on the bed and called room service. He was not particularly hungry but

  knew he had to be up early the next morning for practice. He ordered a full meal, unlocked the bar, mixed a bourbon and Coke, and drank it while pacing the floor. His mind wandered through several scenarios. He had not told Frankie how he felt and she had married a man who would later break her heart. Now Chelsea could be…he refused to finish the thought, stood to answer the knock on the door, and stared at the face before him. “Malcolm. What are you doing here?”

  Assistant coach Malcolm O’Malley spoke while looking over Isaac’s shoulder

  into the room. “Are you alone? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Come in. I thought you were room service. I’ve been feeling a

  cold coming on and just wanted to get up here, get adjusted to the change in temperature and get some rest.” He lied. He did not plan to tell anyone other than Frankie, how bad he was hurting. “I left a message for Coach. In case I was coming down with something, I didn’t want to infect everybody else. I’m telling you, man, my mom had that flu that’s going around and she was sick as a dog.”

  “We’ve been trying to call for the last two hours. Coach. Your agent. I thought

  you’d be foaming at the mouth to hear the details of your new contract.”

  It was the news Isaac had been waiting to learn. He hadn’t worried, but had wanted to wait until negotiations were over and a new contract signed before proposing to Chelsea.

  Ignoring their calls was his ways of keeping his life in suspense, not ending the one thing he wanted, even above the new contract. “Charlie didn’t leave a message.”

  “I guess he wanted to hear your reaction when he told you.” Malcolm smiled.

  “You are now the highest paid wide receiver in the league.”

  Malcolm told him the amount of his contract. He ran the numbers through his

  head, calculating the pay-per-game rate. “That ain’t chicken feed.” He smiled broadly. Knowing Chelsea would not want to leave her job and family, he thought of the land his grandmother left him. It wasn’t prime property, but would make a wonderful setting for the house he wanted to build. The house he wanted to share with the woman he loved.

  Room service arrived and Malcolm left, but Isaac could not eat. One corner of his

  mind was filled with gladness while thoughts of Chelsea’s safety made him physically ill. The more he thought, the faster his pulse raced.

  He had done everything he first set out to do. His mother was comfortable in the

  home he had purchased for her. Trust accounts had been established for her continued care and for his siblings’ education. Only one brother had broken rank and ended up on the wrong side of life. He still hoped for Zack to see the error of his ways, but knew he had done all he could do.

  He had planned his own financial future, complete with funds to start a business. The only thing missing from the image was the woman he dearly loved.

  When Skip’s call came, he knew what he had to do. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Maybe you should just stay there until we’re sure she’s really missing. I’ll keep you posted—”

  “You know she would never go out without her purse or that phone she keeps

  glued to her palm. I’m on my way.”

  “Can you get a flight out tonight?”

  “I’ll get out, even if I have to rent a plane.”

  * * * *

  “Don’t you start driving fast.” The man leaned over and poked the pistol barrel in Chelsea’s right side. “I watch TV and I ain’t stupid. Keep going on Claiborne. Don’t slow down.

  Don’t speed up. Wait ‘till I tell you to turn.”

  She stared ahead, frightened but alert. This man had threatened her. Judging from his size, she was sure he had been the one in her home. Hating her carelessness for leaving her keys in the door, she tried to think. To plot her escape. This is not happening.

  “Turn on Jackson. Keep driving! Don’t look at them people by the bus stop. Keep

  driving, I said.”

  She knew it was not a random kidnapping. He had waited and baited until she made a mistake. She had to find out why. If he had wanted to kill her, he could have done so in her home. The only thought she had was to keep living long enough for him to make a mistake.

  “Turn right here on Dryades,” he ordered. “Park right behind that red car.”

  She scanned the area, as she had throughout the drive, for a police car or anything she could use to signal for help. Houses were mixed with businesses along the street. A drycleaners.

  Dentist office. A fresh food market. Very few of the homes had garages or even driveways. Most were large single-family homes or duplexes that had been converted to apartments.

  She glanced at her captor and prayed. The crazed look on his face and the difficulty he had articulating, even the direction he wanted her to take, told her a lot. He pointed to an empty space between two beat up cars parked in front of a heavy wrought iron fence. The house in the background was a dull gray shotgun duplex with an ornately detailed partition separating the two front porches. The only thing she could think to do was park close to the red car, which put her dangerously close to a fire hydrant.

  “Don’t you open that door. When I get out, you scoot over to this side. I got this gun right here in my pocket. My finger is on the trigger, so don’t try nothing stupid.”

  She saw that his hands were shaking badly. Further agitation could cause him to pull the trigger, intentionally or by accident.

  “Git out or I’ll blow…”

  He leaned down with his head inside the car and waited for two young children on

  scooters to move out of earshot. “Okay, now come on out of there right now.”

  She starting crawling across the seat until she felt anchored and realized the shoe strap she had unbuckled when she was playing with Armageddon was caught on the gear shift.

  “Please. Just give me a second. My shoe strap is caught. Just hold on—”

  He grabbed her arm and yanked. She cried out in pain.

  “Bend over and look at my shoe strap, for God’s sake! It’s caught. Please stop yanking my arm or you’ll break it, not to mention my foot.” Still trying hard to remain calm, she saw the end of her endurance coming into view, and fought back tears. “And if you plan to kill me, here is as good a place as any. In fact, go ahead and do it now.”

  “Get out, smart ass bitch. Your mouth is what got you here in the first place.”

  “No. It’s obvious you’re going to kill me, so why not now? My arm was aching from

  when you twisted it, and now pain is shooting down my leg and my arm. I don’t suffer very well, whoever you are, so if you plan to kill me, go ahead. Do it now!”

  “And I tole you to git outta the damn car. I don’t wanna kill ya, but I will if yo
u make me.

  Just git on outta there.”

  There was no one around on either side of the street. She freed her foot and crawled across the passenger seat. His arm went around her waist. His nails dug into her side, pulling her close to his massive body. He slammed her car door and started walking before her feet were firmly on the pavement. Fearing street noise and rows of closed doors would prevent anyone from hearing her screams, she prayed instead of screaming.

  “You walk next to me and you’d better act like you like it or I will kill you. I don’t wanna kill you. I don’t wanna, but I will. Don’t matter much to me.”

  He opened the gate. Even with the strength of just one arm, he managed to lift her feet from the ground and carry her through the gate. She kicked wildly, reaching for the gate as he closed it and praying someone saw or heard and would call the police. He hefted her on his side with her feet dangling. Instead of going up the front steps, he continued around a cobble path that followed a chain link fence down the side of the house. She looked around without moving her head. The row of windows on the drycleaners building on her left was too high for anyone to see out or for her to see in.