by Brynne Asher
Uncrossing his arms, he leans forward onto his desk and replies, “Then I can breathe easy, because I don’t know what in the fuck you’re talking about. And I could give a shit what she is to you now. I don’t want anything to do with her. I told the police the same thing earlier this week when they paid me a friendly visit. I have no idea what note or pictures you’re talking about, but maybe I’ll think about getting my own restraining order and see how she likes it.”
“How did you know the location of her apartment? You told her mom exactly where to find her,” I charge.
His face immediately goes hard and I can tell he knows he’s been caught. Crossing his arms again he admits, “I have a contact at the hospital. When they changed her address on her employment information, they let me know. But I swear to you, I couldn’t be fucking happier she’s out of my life. She was a fucking headache and I’m glad it’s done. I wanted to make sure she was nowhere near me.”
Don’t ask me why and don’t ask me how, but I know exactly what the officer meant when he told Jude he believed the asswipe didn’t send the pictures and note the first time. It’s not his style. He’s cocky and self-indulged. I can’t imagine him demeaning himself to lurking around and following someone taking pictures.
“Maybe you need to look elsewhere for enemies, what with your winning personality. I’m sure you won’t have to look far,” he huffs. Then he adds, “Are we done here? I have work to do.”
“Who’s your contact at the hospital?” I ask.
“I’m not telling you that,” he spits back.
“You don’t tell me, I go straight to the police and report you were checking up on her whereabouts. That’s a violation of your restraining order and now your probation. You want me to do that, say the word, your ass is in jail and you can kiss your job goodbye. I don’t care how many levels you were demoted, you can’t work from prison,” I lay it out, knowing I have him by the balls and also knowing I can always use this later if I need to. I really want the jackass at the hospital who’s releasing personal information of employees.
Preston’s not stupid, he sees he’s in between a rock and a hard place. He frustratingly huffs, shakes his head and looks to the side. Finally turning back to me, he says, “The administrative assistant of the head of HR.”
“You leave Leigh the fuck alone, there’s no reason for you to check up on her anymore. She’ll be living at my address, under my roof and in sleeping in my bed. If I see or hear of you anywhere close to her, you can kiss your life as you know it goodbye,” with that I turn to leave.
I have a burning hole in my gut that something isn’t right even though I just talked to Leigh. She was at home with the alarm on. She even made me smile when she sheepishly told me she was rearranging things in the kitchen. I told her she could do whatever she wanted with anything in the house, I was pretty sure my mom or sisters put shit where it is and since I hardly cook, I could care less. She giggled with a, “Okay honey. I’ll rearrange the whole house today.”
I’m in my car and decide to head home to tell Leigh about the latest note. I promised I wouldn’t keep anything from her again and I won’t. She and I can take Paige to lunch. Maybe Paige can talk her into coming back to the office this afternoon.
I’m about a half a mile from home when my phone rings. I frown as I look at the display and answer, “Tony Carpino.”
“Mr. Carpino, this is ADT. Can you please provide your security code?” they ask.
I gun my car ahead knowing what this could be and bite out, “Basketball. Has something happened at my house?”
“Yes sir, You’re not home? Your alarm has been set off from a window in the back of the house.”
“No I’m not, but my wife is,” I say, taking a corner in my neighborhood three times faster than I should. “I’m on my way home, almost there.”
“We’ve dispatched the police, sir. Please wait for them to get there before entering the home,” she directs.
“My wife is in the house. There’s no way I’m waiting outside,” I declare.
“Sir, please wait for the police.”
“You can tell the police I’m going in,” I answer and hang up.
I pull up to the curb to park and nothing seems amiss. I dial Leigh’s phone and wait. It rings and rings, finally going to voice mail. I call my house phone next and get the same. The house alarm is still going strong and loud, cutting into my fucking heartbeat that I swear is beating in my ears.
Shit.
Reaching down I grab my gun out of my ankle holster, looking around before getting out and quickly making my way to the backyard. The gate has been left open so I peak around the fence and look toward the back of my house before moving. I see the large window over the deck by the kitchen has been busted through. It’s impossible to listen for anything as the ear-piercing alarm is cutting through the quiet spring midday.
Wondering how long it’s going to take the police to get here, I keep moving to the back of my house, go to the basement door and use my key to get in. Looking before I turn the corner, I don’t see anything disturbed. Still not hearing a thing other than the ringing of the fucking alarm, I start to move up the stairs with my back to the wall. I peak around the corner and look into the kitchen where the window is broken, but I move to the right with my gun up and ready making my way toward the front of my house. Clearing my office and dining room, I move through the back hall toward the kitchen.
I sense movement from the side and turn to see someone duck into the kitchen.
“Stop!” I yell over the alarm with my back to the wall.
I move fast, not wanting them to circle and come at me from behind. I get to the corner and start to peak around when I see something flinging toward me. I duck behind the wall and a bar stool comes crashing to the corner I’m behind, splitting into pieces with the noise breaking into the earsplitting alarm. Narrowly missing most the debris, I peak around again and see him backing up into the kitchen around the other side of the island.
He looks different from the pictures, but there’s no doubt. It’s Cory Blaton, Richard Blaton’s son, the kid who has been missing since last Saturday night when his father was taken into custody. But he’s definitely no kid. He’s a man, but you can tell there’s something not right just by looking at him.
He’s agitated, almost unhinged, as he backs away from me in the kitchen. I have my gun up and pointed at him although he looks unarmed. His clothes are filthy and worn, his light brown hair dirty and disheveled. He might be five ten, maybe five eleven with some meat on him. But it’s his eyes that give away his state of mind.
His muted brown eyes are anxious and jerky. He’s looking around the room as if he’s trying to decide his next move, quick glances from me to the room and back to me. His eyes are moving so quickly it’s hard to decipher what he could be thinking or maneuvering next in his head.
“Cory?” I call out over the alarm.
His agitated eyes come straight to me and I can sense his body start shaking.
“Where is she, Cory? I know you know her, you’ve been following us. Where is my wife?” I demand.
“Where is my wife!” he screams back at me.
Fuck, he’s out of it. He keeps moving backwards and I keep moving toward him with my gun pointed at him, his arms are out and slightly elevated as if he’s trying to decide his next move.
“Cory?” I call again. “Where is she? She was here, tell me what you’ve done.”
“She was here, she was here!” he screams at the top of his lungs, again repeating my words.
I’ve had enough, I need to find Leigh so I quickly move toward him. Realizing I’m coming for him, he reaches for the first thing he sees and grabs the pitcher with Leigh’s bouquet in the middle of the island. He tries to fling it toward me but it goes wide, hitting a cabinet. Glass and pink rose petals fly every which way, flitting to the ground in what seems like slow motion. He looks at the mess, realizing he missed me. I take advantage, move into him f
ast and tackle him from the side pushing him to the floor. We both land with a “humph”. I roll him to his stomach as he starts screaming and flailing, but not in an economical way where he has any chance of getting away. I pull my knee up to his back and give him all my weight. With my gun still trained on him, I grab one of his hands and pull it up his back until he belts out in pain.
“What did you do with her? Where is she, Cory?” I scream at him again
Wincing and flailing from pain now, he yells, “What did you do with my dad? He went away because of you. You took him! He went away, he went away!”
Fucking A. He’s a mess, totally unstable. But he still doesn’t tell me where Leigh is.
Almost on the brink myself and thinking I might have to torture the information out of him, I hear voices from behind me, “Police!”
Not moving a muscle and with my gun still pointed to his back, I don’t take my eyes off Cory. I see five police officers out of the corner of my eye moving toward us with their own weapons drawn and pointed at us on the kitchen floor.
“This is my house,” I yell over the alarm still ringing loud. “I came in through the basement and found him in the kitchen. My wife was home and I still don’t know where she is.”
One of the officers lowers his gun and goes for his cuffs while directing, “Go. Clear the main floor then two up and two down. Clear the house and look for her. Do it fast.”
He comes to me and says, “Let me get him cuffed and go turn off that alarm.”
He quickly radio’s in what’s happening and moves to take Cory’s arm I have pinned between his shoulder blades. I stand as soon as he has his other arm, vaguely realizing Cory is now crying, almost sobbing as I move to the alarm panel. Turning off the alarm, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Yanking it out, I feel like my heart clinch when I see the words “Gem Calling” show up on the screen.
“Leigh?” I bite out into the phone.
“Hey honey, sorry I missed your call. My hands were busy.”
Hearing her voice across the phone, I let my head drop with the phone still to my ear and bring up the other to run it through my hair in relief. Holding the back of my head, I mutter, “Fuck.”
“Tony?”
“Sweetheart,” I fight to control my voice but continue with meaning. “Where are you?”
“I was in a hurry, I couldn’t call first because I was worried about Rosa. She called and was out of breath, felt like her heart was racing. She couldn’t get ahold of any of her kids and refused to call an ambulance herself. I know you didn’t want me to leave but I had no choice, I had to check her blood pressure. I got her to take an aspirin, but it’s not as high as I expected it to be and my guess is it’s a side effect of her new medication. We got ahold of her son and he’s on his way to take her to the ER just in case,” she rambles on. I have a hard time concentrating on what she’s saying because all I can think about is the fact she’s ok.
I don’t say anything as I’m trying to find my breath when she calls out for me again, “Honey, are you there?”
Finally jerking out of my stupor from learning she’s okay, I look quickly around my house as the police finally make it back to the kitchen. I recognize something else is missing when I demand, “Where’s Fin?”
“Well, he’s with me,” she answers, like I’m absurd to even ask the question to begin with, as if there was any other place on Earth he would be other than with her.
“Come home when you’ve got Rosa settled. Something has happened. We’ve had a break in.”
“A break in?” she exclaims in my ear.
“Yeah. I’m just fucking grateful you weren’t here. If you need help with Rosa, call Paige. She can help, but get home as fast as you can,” I say, feeling the need to see her, touch her, making it real that she’s healthy and untouched. I insist further, “Soon, Leigh.”
“I’ll be there as soon as Rosa’s son gets here. Tell me what happened, is everything okay?”
I look around my house at the mess, the police, the broken glass, Cory Blaton in custody and clearly needing all kinds of psychological help when my eyes finally settle on the rose petals littered all over the floor in front of me. Thinking today could have been tragic, disastrous but even worse, life changing, I keep my eyes on her rose petals and say, “Yeah, gem. Everything is going to be okay. Come to me as quick as you can.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll be there quick. Love you,” she says softly.
“Love you, too, Leigh. Quick,” I assert one more time.
“As quick as I can,” she reiterates before hanging up.
I turn to see two police officers dragging Cory toward the front door. I turn to another officer and say, “I know who he is and he’s not well, you need to treat him accordingly. I’ll get his mother’s contact information to you as soon as I can find it, but he’s been off whatever medication he requires for almost a week. See to it they get him whatever medical attention he needs right away.”
“I figured,” the police officer agrees. “But that’s good to know. I’ll radio that in and he’ll be processed accordingly. Let me know when you get the contact information, we’ll reach out to his family.”
I turn to my phone again touching the screen to make my first call, finally able to breathe clear and easy. Leigh’s okay. There’s no more threat. I really don’t think we have to worry about her ex-fucking-husband anymore. My new mother-in-law has been put in her place and sent back to South Dakota. Leigh’s sister is hopefully on the path to a healthy life. My mom’s not completely pissed and shouldn’t disown me anytime soon. And I shake my head as I realize I’m even relieved my damn dog is okay.
“Dad?” I call into the phone as I look around my house at the disorder surrounding me. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll make it back into the office today.”
April Showers Bring May Flowers
I leave my office and head to my car to get home to Leigh. I can’t wait to tell her my news at the same time I’m dreading having to tell her my news. That’s because I have good news.
And bad.
It’s Saturday and we’re full on into spring with the days getting longer and warmer. I’ve been to the gym to play basketball but I’m later getting home than usual because my dad and Gino summoned me to the office for a quick Saturday meeting. While there, I also got a call from the DA. Both delivering me the good and bad news I get to share with my wife.
My wife.
The last couple of months have been perfect, regardless of the fact life hasn’t settled down. My embezzlement case has monopolized my time at work, demanding longer hours and time on the weekends. But the publicity of the case has garnered many new clients. Many, many new clients and we’re still evaluating which cases we can take on. This is all really good for the practice and me, which I normally wouldn’t mind, but all this extra work has prolonged my plans for a honeymoon. And that makes me irritable and pissed because I’m anxious to get away with Leigh.
When I mentioned this out loud in front of my family one day, my mother looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said, “When you don’t plan a wedding, you can’t plan the honeymoon. You can’t have it both ways, Tone.”
Whenever my mother makes comments like this, and it happens frequently, Leigh looks at me with her big eyes while biting her lip. Lizzie Carpino has gotten over it for the part, but I have a feeling I’m going to be eating her shit for the rest of my days.
I don’t care. It was worth it.
Leigh has been equally busy and other than being back at work, all of her attention has been on her sister. Tina decided to stay in treatment for an additional fourteen days past her initial thirty. Leigh was able to visit her more often and went as much as she could. When Tina finally left the treatment center she moved in with us. I could tell Leigh was concerned how I would react, but I didn’t care. They needed to be close to each other and are building their relationship for the first time. I didn’t tell her this, but I might’ve had to put my foot down if it was
her mother. Hopefully I won’t ever have to worry about that. Sheila Johnson hasn’t been back and Leigh has done everything she could to keep her away from Tina.
Tina moved into Leigh’s apartment last week to which Leigh said, “See, I’m so glad I got an apartment. What would we have done without it?”
Tina starts cosmetology school next week, which Leigh is also paying for and explained, “That money is just sitting in the bank, what else am I going to do with it? Plus I think it’s funny to think about Preston paying for cosmetology school since he’s so stuck up. I’m more than happy to spend his money on it.” Then she added, “And honey, Tina’s going to want to cut your hair. Since she’s decided to do this, she can’t stop talking about how lush your hair is, which is true. But don’t worry, I love your hair, I won’t let her go crazy. What would I have to hold on to then?”
After that comment, I dropped my fork on my dinner plate because I had to fuck my wife right there in the kitchen while she held on to my hair. I’ve always loved her hands in my hair, but now I love it even more so I’ve decided to let it grow as long as I can without looking like a hippie in a suit when I go to court.
I pull into my drive and park in the garage next to Leigh’s new car. I never thought I could work a new car into the scenario so soon, but the timing was perfect and I took every advantage. However perfect the timing was, it was still our first argument as a married couple.
A few weeks ago when Tina was making plans to move into Leigh’s apartment, Tina was worried about finding a car since she has no income and is basically starting her life over with nothing. After thinking about this for about point seven five seconds, I said to Leigh in front of Tina, “You should give Tina your car, we’ll get you something else.”
Leigh immediately frowned at me but it’s Tina who said, “Oh, I love your car but I could never accept it. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”
I smiled big at my frowning wife and replied, “See? She loves it. It gets great gas mileage and she’ll be on a budget. I can’t think of a better solution.”