The Widow's Keeper

by Kishan Paul

  Before Ally was done surveying the area, another janitor, blonde and dressed like the first, ran into Leanna and the carry-on she rolled. She released Ally’s hand and managed to catch him before he fell to the ground. While her escort helped him to his feet, the sound of metal colliding with metal resonated through the halls. Ally turned in time to see a cleaning cart speeding down the path toward them. It slammed into Leanna, shoving her face first to the floor and toppling over her. A bucket connected to the contraption spilled dirty brown water. The murky liquid poured out of the wheeled vehicle, covering Leanna and the ground in the process. Canisters of cleaning solutions and other supplies rolled across the walkway. Several of the metal canisters slammed into Leanna’s back and head before rolling across the floor.

  The blond janitor lunged for the cart, falling on top of it and the woman lying beneath.

  “Es tut mir Leid,” he yelled as he climbed to his feet.

  When Ally stepped forward to help, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her away. Her back pressed against someone’s body. Instinct took over. She tugged at the limb restraining her and stomped her heel into the jean-clad ankle of the person.

  His grip tightened, and he shoved a cell phone in her face. As soon as the image on the screen came into view, she froze. The world around her went silent. Only the sound of her heart thumping wildly was audible as she stared at Farah.

  She sat on a bed. Her red-rimmed eyes watched the camera, and in her arms, she held a baby. “Fight me and the widow and her child die,” a man’s deep voice hissed from behind her.

  The words were spoken quietly but screamed in her head. They’d known she was on the flight and were waiting for her. Everything had been planned, down to the way he held her. Restrained in what looked like a lover’s embrace, no one would think twice as they passed her and the man. Ally forced herself to look away from the phone and watched the scene with Leanna play out in front of her.

  Several good Samaritans surrounded Leanna, blocking her from Ally’s view. From the way they leaned forward, it was clear the poor woman was still on the ground. Why isn’t she getting up? Ally stepped forward, only to be pulled back against his hips.

  “She’s not the one you need to worry about. So listen.” He held her close and pressed his cheek against hers. “We are going to keep walking straight to the elevator on the right. If you don’t, I will have the widow and her child killed.”

  Her mind raced as she considered her options. “I’m not leaving her like this,” she whispered. The crowd around Leanna grew. Someone called for a doctor, and a moment later, several bystanders pulled out their phones and made calls.

  “She is fine. No one will harm her in front of all those people. Security has already been notified. They will cart her to the airport clinic to assess her for injuries.”

  When she looked over at him, all ability to breathe, much less speak, ceased. Cold, dark eyes stared back. Eyes she hadn’t seen since she was kidnapped years ago. The sight of him sent tremors rocking through her.

  He grinned and tightened his grip. “Surprise.”

  She turned back to the crowd, trying to collect her thoughts. Like a silent movie, memories of her kidnapping five years ago flooded her consciousness. Under the cover of darkness, he and another man had dragged her away from her office. A tremor rocked through her as she remembered the other kidnapper who helped him before. Her chest ached as if the man’s hand still cupped her breast. It had outraged Sayeed enough to shoot the man dead on the spot—another image which made her shudder. What was left of his partner’s bloodied body spilled all over the floor in front of her. And finally, an image of him, a look of pure hatred on his face while he cleaned the dead man’s remains.

  Now, standing behind her, he hid his emotions under a smile. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I wondered if you’d remember me,” he said. “Obviously I’m unforgettable.”

  “You’ve tormented my dreams since that day.” She stayed rooted to the spot, trying to stay focused. “After everything you’ve done? I’m not going anywhere with you.” Ally tipped her chin in Leanna’s direction. “Not until I see for myself she is safe.”

  Fingers dug into her waist, warning her of repercussions by challenging him. “I see Sayeed didn’t teach you manners. So let me.” He fiddled with the phone still in front of her and handed her ear buds. “Put this on.”

  “No,” she hissed.

  He slammed the bud into her ear. Before she could push it out, a woman’s soft humming filled her head. Ally’s veins turned to ice at the familiar tune. She watched the phone’s screen. The walls were pale yellow and the tiled floor, gray. The room had one piece of furniture, a metal-framed bed, and on top of it sat Farah. She sang to the child in her arms.

  The mother’s lullaby sliced into her chest, leaving Ally breathless. When she was back in the compound, Farah would wake up every night, face wet with tears and sobbing. Each time, Ally sat by her side and sang the same song until she fell back asleep.

  She sucked in some much needed air as the screen moved close to the swaddled bundle in Farah’s arms. Her legs weakened when the face of the child came into view. Eyes closed, the baby’s thick lashes pressed against its cheeks as it slept, oblivious to its mother’s pain. A tear slipped down Farah’s cheek as she sang, and seeing it made one fall from Ally’s eye as well. Farah’s thick braid hung like a noose down her side, and she wore a pale blue top with matching pants. She seemed oblivious to the camera and the man taping her as she sang to her baby.

  She touched the screen just as it went black. Ally looked up at the growing crowd in front of her and the giant blue golf cart waving a Red Cross flag, which had pulled up.

  “Hello, Sara,” a man’s English voice spoke inside her head through the ear bud. “Beautiful song, isn’t it? You don’t know who I am, but I am confident we will meet soon.”

  A woman and two men in lab coats jumped out of the vehicle and ran into the crowd.

  “As you see, the widow and her baby are unharmed. What happens to them is entirely up to you. I have sent an old friend to greet you at the airport. Be sure to do as he says, for everyone’s sake. This poor woman is already a widow. I am not sure she would be able to survive losing her baby as well.”

  “Time’s up. What is your decision?” the kidnapper asked.

  She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer Leanna would be okay. “I’ll come.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT’S SHOW TIME

  THREE YEARS POST-RESCUE

  Dave stepped out of the elevator into the hospital parking garage and headed to the right toward his car. It was well after three thirty in the morning, and he’d been in the same scrubs for more than half the day. He didn’t have much to complain about. It was a once a month, twelve-hour shift and the rest of the time he worked a standard forty-hour week. Aside from removing an appendix and patching up some non-fatal gunshot victims, his night hadn’t been too bad. He stretched his neck to the side until it popped, and then did it again on the other side. Regardless, being clean and climbing into bed beside his wife were top priority on his to do list.

  He slid into his red BMW and looked at the text Ally had sent before she went to sleep.

  Have your gun ready. It’s show time.

  He chuckled. In other words: Her ovulation window had slid wide open, and she needed his sperm. His friends had warned him how the whole erection-on-demand part of baby making would take all the pleasure out of sex. Dave wasn’t so sure he believed them. After all, his wife waited at home for him—naked. The image put a smile on his face.

  The sexual festivities were the fun part of the process. Especially now that their roles had reversed, and she followed him around begging him to strip naked and fill her up. He sat a little taller. Yeah, he really, really enjoyed that part. It was the screaming, red-faced, eighteen-plus year investment result that sounded miserable. But she swore as soon as he held their baby and saw it smile at him, he’d be singing another t
une. Of course he had his doubts, but maybe a baby would make the faraway look she got so often finally go away. It was the one part of her he couldn’t touch.

  The same look she’d get if he told her about the email on his computer from last week. His fingers gripped the wheel. He’d planned to tell her the same evening it showed up, but then she did something that had left him speechless. She laughed. It was a different kind of laugh than he’d heard from her in a long time. The kind that made his eyes burn with emotion and left him hungry for more. The kind that said she’d finally climbed out of the dark hole she’d been stuck in for way too long. The email would have only tossed her right back in; at least it’s what he kept telling himself whenever his conscience kicked him in the balls. Balls which had much more important things to do.

  Droplets of rain beaded against the windshield when he pulled out of the parking garage. He turned on the wipers then his radio and headed for home. Dave scanned the mostly deserted road. Philadelphia streets weren’t so bad at three forty in the morning. The deep voice of the sports announcer filled his cabin with statistics about the Eagles and their upcoming season, but it was the date the man mentioned that caught Dave’s attention. His mouth dropped. How could he have forgotten? He got Ally back three years ago to the day. People died in the process, including the asshole who’d dragged her into hell in the first place. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. She’d almost died—twice. Sometimes he found himself wondering what would have happened if the old man, Nasif, hadn’t tracked him down and told him where she was.

  He shook the thought from his head. None of it mattered because she was safe and home, waiting to make a baby with him. The corners of his mouth quirked up. Ally was one of the strongest people he knew. Hell, it wasn’t too long ago that the prospect of them having sex seemed impossible. Speaking of which, he should have known better than to think they’d need all eight hours of the play list he made. After a couple of times of using it, Ally put it aside and said she wanted to be able to orgasm with him—without the music. His chest puffed up. And she had on multiple occasions. But he wanted her to listen to it, especially the last half hour. He’d put in some serious time and swallowed his pride creating that particular set. Maybe he’d turn it on when he got home during their baby making.

  Dave scanned the roads around him and glanced in his rearview mirror. There wasn’t a cop in sight, and aside from the distant headlights of the only other car on the road behind him, and the tiny speck of a person on the sidewalk miles ahead, the place was empty. He pressed his foot down on the gas. The engine revved, making his grin stretch.

  As he pushed his car to move faster, the figure he’d seen in the distance stepped off the sidewalk and into the path of his vehicle, staring directly at him. Dave slammed on his brakes. The pedal shook under his foot as the anti-lock system activated. His lungs turned into solid masses of ice, and his hands clenched the steering wheel as he willed the man to get out of the way. It was then he got a better view of the person. Eyes the size of hockey pucks stared back through the front window. Familiar eyes he hadn’t seen in three years. After an eternity, the car came to a full stop, its bumper barely pressing against the man’s legs.

  Mouth wide open, he stayed frozen in his seat, his fingers remained glued to the wheel as the realization of what almost happened sunk in. The man pointed at something behind Dave and then ran away. Dave looked over his shoulder in time to see the white SUV before it slammed into him.

  Ally sat straight up in her bed, drenched in tears and sweat. Terror lay heavy on her chest, making it impossible to breathe. Her body shook. She tucked her head between her knees and worked on taking slow, deep breaths until the panic attack subsided.

  Once her lungs calmed to normal, she climbed out of bed and checked the clock. It was close to four in the morning. She hadn’t had a panic attack in months, but she should have been prepared for this one. After all, three years ago today she had finally escaped her hell.

  Although the cause of the panic attack had been established, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming fear still squeezing her lungs. She checked her cell and saw Dave’s text.

  He’ll be home soon. We’ll make a baby and then everything will be better. The thought eased her. She went to the bathroom.

  “Sayeed is dead. He can’t hurt me anymore,” she whispered over and over as she splashed icy water against her skin.

  An hour later, Ally had thrown on some clothes and paced the living room with her cell in her hand. She’d called David a couple times and he hadn’t answered. A nagging sense of doom made her hands unsteady, and no amount of self-talk seemed to help. Until he came home safe, she wouldn’t feel right. She needed him home. Soon.

  By six, Ally gave in to her fear and left David’s boss, Jerry, a message. Fifteen minutes later, she called her baby sister, who lived four stories above her. As soon as a sleepy Rey answered the phone, Ally’s doorbell rang. She let out a breath of relief and ran to answer it. Instead of the green-eyed, brown-haired man she hoped to find, her gaze fixed on Jerry and the police.

  Her world spun as soon as she saw the look on Jerry’s face. At first it turned slow, but the more she stared at his bloodshot eyes and the lines creasing his brow, it spun faster. She shook her head and stepped back, slamming the door in their faces. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. This was just a dream. A really bad dream.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE KIDNAPPER

  FOUR MONTHS POST-DAVID

  With his arm wrapped around her waist, he guided her through the hall. Sweat beaded her hairline and her body shook, making her trip over her shoes as she walked. The man’s grip on her tightened as he steadied her. The voices of travelers around her grew louder. Somewhere out there were people searching for her and Leanna. She tried to catch their gazes, searching for Eddie or another friendly face in the crowd but found none.

  She thought of Farah and the baby. “How do I know they are even alive?”

  His nails bit into her hip. “Keep talking and they won’t be,” he hissed.

  The elevator loomed ahead, and with every step they took toward it, the faster her pulse raced. Its doors slid open, and a family of four armed with suitcases entered the empty cabin. She looked over her shoulder, searching for Leanna. As if on cue, the phone in her pants buzzed, reminding her of its existence.

  With the realization of the phone came another one. They could track her and would know exactly where she went. She thought of Farah and the baby. This could be just the lead Eddie needed to find them. Ally contained her relief. She just needed to bide her time. When they reached the now closed metal doors of the lift, he pressed the down arrow with his free hand while keeping his other glued to her hip. His fingers began to move lower, tugging at one of the belt loops of her jeans. Ally stepped away from him only to be pulled back in. The kidnapper pressed her side to his and cupped her butt and the phone hidden in her back pocket.

  The hard edge of the device dug into her under his rough touch. Goosebumps pebbled her skin when his breath hit her cheek from his laugh. Just as the doors opened, he shoved his fingers into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the phone. In stunned silence, she watched him toss it into the trashcan beside the elevator right before pulling her inside.

  As soon as the heavy metal doors slid shut, he released and shoved her aside.

  “Where is Farah?” she whispered.

  “Shut up and give me your fucking purse,” he yanked it from her shoulder and rummaged through it. “When the doors open, we will turn left and walk to the storage room at the far end of the hall. I’ll check you for additional items once we get to the room.”

  “How do I know they’re even alive?”

  He dropped the satchel to the ground and shrugged. “The same way you know if they’re not. You don’t.” A second later, the doors opened and his arm was once again around her.

  They walked down an empty service hallway. Ally wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans
and scanned the space. The white door he mentioned loomed a few feet down the empty corridor. People were willing to hurt the ones she loved to get to her, but entering the room did not guarantee anyone’s safety. More than likely, it would lead to her death. And without a way to track her, no one would be able to find her. For a brief moment, she contemplated the prospect of running.

  He gave her arm a painful squeeze. “Go ahead and run. I’ve wanted you dead for years. Give me an excuse.”

  Cold brown eyes glared down at her, promising to make good on his threat. A gift she’d gladly give if it meant all the people she loved would survive. As soon as he unlocked the door, he shoved her inside and shut it behind him. Rolling carts, like the one that hit Leanna, lined the side of the wall. Tall shelves stocked with giant bottles of cleaning supplies filled the rest of the room. Before she took another step, he grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her face first into the wall.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been alive all these years. I would have killed you a long time ago if I’d known,” he hissed in her ear.

  The cool wall did nothing to ease the fiery pain coursing through her cheek and back. Ally planted her palms on the surface as the implications of his words sunk in. They had never been safe. “Now you can, so let them go.”

  “Not yet.” He laughed against her ear. “But I will.”

  She dug her fingers into the cement wall for support. “Did you kill my husband?”

  He didn’t answer her question. Pain shot through the back of her head. The intensity of it blinded her, making her fall to her knees. A second bolt erupted at the same spot, this time turning her world black.

  The back of her neck pulsed with currents of pain when the vehicle ran over a bump. Ally’s eyes shot open. Curled up in the back row of a van or SUV, she stared at the gray leather of the seat in front of her. The spot beside her head rustled when someone shifted.