Ceasefire

by Black, Scarlett

  “Funny thing,” she said. “I took a nap while Joey was sleeping this morning and had a dream that you were bringing friends over. It felt so real to me that I got right up and started cleaning. Amazing the way the mind works sometimes.”

  I almost asked her if she’d had any dreams about Harris’s plan for the evening. I didn’t, of course, because that would lead to too many questions that I wouldn’t have an answer for. I gave her the rest of the afternoon off, then lied, asking if she could swing back around nine that evening so that Finn and I could go out for a drink, to which she happily agreed, sneakily leaning over like a gossiping teenage girl to whisper how cute he was.

  “Look at him,” she said, pausing at the door. “Ain’t that something? Keep him around. Joey could use a man like that.” Then she was gone.

  I turned to see what she’d been looking at. Finn had only met Joey five minutes earlier, and already he had him balancing on his legs, pretending my not-so-little baby was an airplane. Joey laughed and laughed. So did Finn. I leaned against the wall and watched them, enjoying the moment, taking it all in, creating snapshot memories in my mind. Hoping it wouldn’t be my last chance.

  We spent the afternoon together, avoiding conversation about the inevitable, while we took Joey to the park and then went for a walk. He toddled after geese, pretending to honk as they scrambled away from him. Finn and I drifted lazily back and forth in the swings. We talked, told stories and jokes, and I finally learned what he did for a living.

  It wasn’t as glamorous as Roman’s high-class escort business worth millions of dollars, nor as impressive as Walter Wickam’s oil empire worth billions. And I don’t say that to sound like I wasn’t impressed, it’s just that after the people I’d been dealing with over the last six months, the elite, snobbish members of society, it was refreshing to have a simple conversation with someone down to earth.

  Someone normal.

  I’m not sure what kind of fantasy I had created in my mind, but I hadn’t expected Finn to be a software programmer for a small, ten-person firm that built websites for boat dealers.

  “Boring, I know,” he said. “But, if what we do helps Joe Boat Dealer sell a few more units off his lot so he can put food on the table for his family, then I’ve made a difference.”

  “I like that,” I said.

  “Anyway,” he added, “I’ve got my own project on the side that I hope to turn into a business one day. Hey, yeah, maybe you can help, being the businesswoman that you are.”

  “Definitely, what is it—” My cell buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hang on, let me get this since it might be Harris.”

  “Take your time,” Finn said. “I should go save Joey before that goose eats him for dinner.”

  I thanked him and waited until he’d put some distance between us.

  “Hello?”

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Roman?”

  “You send this Harris guy after me and expect to get away with it? Huh? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

  Oh no. Oh God. What happened? What did Harris do? He evidently hadn’t stuck to the plan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

  “You haven’t gotten any smarter, have you? First, you steal my best whores and think you can get away with it. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out eventually? Did you really think I’d let it go? Do you have any fucking clue how much money you cost me? Then, you hire some guy to come after me, like I wouldn’t figure out what was going on? Some stranger shows up here asking questions and pulls a gun on me? Maybe you didn’t learn this about me, Kim, but I’m a sneaky son of a bitch. I’ve kept the secrets of some of the most powerful people in this country for years, and I didn’t get to that place without being the smartest guy in the room. You said it yourself, the ceasefire is over. Your man, he bled out on my carpet, and if you’re not here within thirty minutes, alone, she will, too. I’d bet she even bleeds perfection.”

  The unmistakable scream that followed buckled my knees.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Michelle.

  Fear, panic, dread, and confusion all took me to the ground. I screamed into the phone but Roman had already hung up. Finn raced over, carrying Joey, and dropped down in front of me.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “He’s got her, he’s got her.” The words flew out of my mouth, making no sense to him.

  “Who’s got her? Got who?”

  “Roman. Roman has Michelle at his office. I have to go, I have to go right now.” I scrambled to my feet, whipping my head around, looking for the car as I gasped to catch the breath that had been yanked from my lungs.

  Finn stood, holding Joey in his arms, who’d begun to cry. My panicked frenzy had frightened him. “I’m coming with you,” Finn said.

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Let me help, Kim. You can’t—”

  “Stop, just stop for a second.” My heart beat with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. “Was all that stuff you said in the diner true? About how you couldn’t live with yourself if you knew something happened to me?”

  “Yes, damn it.”

  “Then you have to understand this,” I said, standing, taking Joey in my arms, holding him, caressing his hair, and shushing him. “He’s my world, and you can do more for me by making sure he’s okay until I get back than you can coming with me, okay? Listen—ssshh—listen, Roman has Michelle, and he’s expecting me alone within thirty minutes. I think he’s already murdered Harris, and if I show up with anyone else, he might kill you on sight.”

  “He murdered somebody? Oh my God, Kim, I can’t—”

  “You have to. Take Joey home, call Gertie if you need her, but please, just go stay with him.”

  “But what about you?”

  “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “I do, I promise you, I do. I’m smarter than Roman. I’ll figure it out. I’ll talk him down, whatever it takes, but I have to get Michelle out of there.”

  “This is insane. We should call the police.”

  “We do that and she’s dead. I can’t let that happen.”

  Finn put one arm on my shoulder and another gently on Joey’s head. “And I can’t let his mother die. I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not going to be responsible for that. You are not getting away from me again, understood? You said we have thirty minutes, right?

  “Yeah.”

  “Get in touch with Gertie. Have her meet us around the block from his office. She can pick him up, then I’ll go with you.”

  “Finn—”

  “No arguments. That’s what’s happening.”

  I nodded, holding my sobs inward, trying to maintain composure so I wouldn’t scare Joey any more than he already was.

  As I followed Finn to the car, feeling the weight of my little boy in my arms, his realness, his warmth, his being, it occurred to me how unclearly my mind had been in such a frazzled state, thinking I could go in against Roman alone. What if he murdered Michelle and I both as soon as I walked through the door? What would’ve happened to Joey? Yes, he would’ve been with Finn, but Joey wasn’t his responsibility. Sooner or later, he’d be deposited on his daddy’s doorstep, unloved, unwanted, forced to live with a man he didn’t know.

  I was furious with myself. Joey’s fate should’ve been the first thing on my mind, but when you’re caught up in the moment, fight or flight overtakes rationality.

  Everything I had done over the past year had led to this moment in time, right here, right now, as we dashed across the open expanse of grass, toward the car. Twelve months of horrible decisions—even if they were motivated by good intentions—had all coalesced and given me thirty minutes to figure out how to stay alive for my child’s sake, to keep Finn from paying for my actions, and to save my best friend’s life.

  ***

  I buckled Joey into his ca
r seat and tried not to cry. Gertie eyed me over the seat.

  She said, “I’ve never asked questions because I didn’t want to know, and I’m not about to start now, but Kim, whatever this is…be careful.”

  “I will,” I said, nodding. “Joey, honey, look at Mommy, look at Mommy, okay? Mommy loves you very much.” I stroked his hair, his cheek, and then wiped a remaining tear from the corner of his eye. “Mommy loves you so much. Gertie’s gonna take you for ice cream and then Mommy will come find you in a bit.”

  Gertie said, “Should I…should I call the police?”

  “No, please don’t. I’ll explain everything later but for right now, just get him out of here while we take care of this.”

  “Okay, we’ll be at the apartment. Joey, are you ready for some ice cream? Huh? Are you ready? We’ll get you a big double scoop this time.”

  He smiled. My heart broke.

  What if I never saw that soul-melting grin again?

  “Go,” I ordered. I kissed Joey’s forehead one last time and shut the door.

  Finn and I watched her drive away. I fell into his arms, bawling into his chest as he hugged me close. What I would’ve given to be in that embrace under any different circumstance right then. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  He rested his chin on the top of my head. “We have what we have,” he said. “I don’t believe in that whole ‘things happen for a reason’ stuff, not usually, but something brought you back to me, before this, you know? It’s almost like whatever higher power’s out there…it knew that we’d need to be together. It wanted me here to help.”

  God, I hoped that was true. I would rather it be that than some cruel joke played by the universe.

  I could almost hear it mocking me.

  All good things come to those who wait, huh? Well, Kim, here’s the love of your life, right before you die. Funny old world, ain’t it?

  I patted his chest. “Let’s get this over with.”

  We walked down the sidewalk, toward Roman’s building, smelling the wet aftereffects of that morning’s rain. It smelled clean and fresh, like the downpour had washed away the remnants of all the bad things in life.

  All but one.

  While we’d waited on Gertie to arrive, we’d concocted a plan. It wasn’t much, but we didn’t have the time to come up with anything exceptional.

  Harris’s plan—the original one—had been for me to confess my sins to Roman, to apologize profusely, and to lure him out with the promise of paying him the money he’d lost, along with any sexual favors he’d wanted, no matter what the request. If it had worked, Harris had intended to hide in the back seat of Roman’s Mercedes, and then “dispose” of him there. One tiny prick from a needle, an injection of an untraceable poison, and the job would be done.

  Back in the library, I’d severely protested the need for murder.

  My what ifs and buts made no difference. Harris had operated with one clear goal in every job—eliminate the possibilities. Frightening Roman into silence, running him out of town, or trying to physically beat him into submission were no guarantees that he wouldn’t return and try to finish the job. “Men like that,” Harris had said, “those greedy sociopaths? They don’t think like the rest of us. No, your best bet is to pull the plug and dump him in a landfill somewhere.”

  “But what about the security cameras?” I’d countered. “Won’t they see him leaving the office with me?” He’d assured me that they wouldn’t be a problem. Fingerprints, either. “And Alice, I don’t want her hurt. Not a finger,” I’d demanded.

  To which he’d replied, “I’m a professional, not a goon. Trust me. I move the chess pieces around and all you have to do is get the king out the door.”

  If that hadn’t worked, Harris said he’d think of something.

  What happened? What made him change his mind? Why had he abandoned our plan before he gave me a chance?

  Finn stopped at the street corner. He squeezed my hand. Roman’s building was a half a block away. “That’s it, right? The place with the pine trees?”

  “Right.”

  He studied it for a moment, one arm around his chest, while he propped his chin up with the other hand, in a thinking pose. “Something’s been bothering me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When he called you, you said that the Harris guy had died there in his office, didn’t he?”

  I’d been in such a wrecked mental state that it took me a moment to recall. “Um, yeah, he said that he’d bled out on his carpet.”

  “Doesn’t it seem strange to you that Michelle’s there?”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me. I’d been so laser-focused on getting here, getting Joey to safety, and then getting Michelle out alive that I hadn’t considered the why. “It’s weird, yeah, but he could’ve left to get her or had someone bring her here.”

  Finn shook his head. “I’m not buying it. I mean, I don’t know the prick at all, but from what you’ve told me, he doesn’t seem like he’d be careless enough to do that. If your hitman guy was dead in his office, he wouldn’t risk having someone find the body if he left, and it’d be just as stupid to have some thug dragging Michelle into the building against her will. Right? There are too many things that could go wrong, either way.”

  “So you’re saying that she was there on purpose?”

  Finn shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue, but that’s what it seems like to me. It’s the most logical thing.”

  I considered the idea for a moment. Was it possible? Yes. Probable? Maybe. Unless Michelle thought she would try to negotiate with Roman, what other reason would she have for being there? Could that be it? Had she tried to fix things on her own?

  That had to be the reason. I’d told her to go home, to get away from all of this until I could sort it out, and she’d done the exact opposite. She’d been trying to make it right for me and had walked right into the lion’s den. Or better yet, she’d stuck her head in the lion’s mouth.

  “Let’s go,” I said, tugging Finn’s arm.

  ***

  When we entered the front doors to the lobby, I paused and looked directly at the security camera tucked in a corner overhead, hoping that Harris hadn’t had a chance to disable them and that the tape was able to record a good image of my face. With any luck, what the cameras captured would be stored at an off-site location, preventing Roman from destroying any evidence. I wanted someone, anyone, to know that I’d been there in case they couldn’t find my body.

  Finn and I stood at the set of stairs at the building’s rear. Months ago, during one of our meetings, Roman had shown me the exit in the back of his office and had laughingly told me about how he’d had to sneak a client out that way when the guy’s wife showed up, demanding to know where he was. The plan was to have Finn slink up the back way and surprise Roman from the rear while I distracted him from the front. They were roughly the same size, so the hope was that Finn might be able to knock Roman out and secure him long enough for the police to arrive.

  It was dangerous and ill conceived, but what choice did we have? Maybe if we’d had days to plan, maybe if we had the experience of someone like Harris, we could’ve come up with something more cautious and less patchwork.

  “Remember,” I said, “sixth floor. He won’t be able to see you coming down the hallway. It’s hidden off to the right, next to the bookcase. We don’t know what the situation looks like in there, but I’ll try to keep my back to the window so he’ll have to face me.”

  “I got it,” he insisted, stroking my hair. “I’ve watched enough movies to know what I’m doing.”

  “Finn.”

  “Sorry. I try to be funny when I’m scared.” He pulled his cell out and checked the time. “Three minutes. We better hurry.” Finn leaned over and kissed me, hard, passionately, holding me close. I wanted to stay in that tiny pocket of time forever.

  “See you up there,” I said, as he darted up the steps in twos and then disappeared around the l
anding.

  The ride up the elevator was slow, methodical, and unbearable. Watching the numbers tick over was maddening, my stomach churning faster with each passing floor.

  The bell chimed. The doors opened. I lurched into the hallway and vomited into a plant, then wiped my mouth with a sleeve. I was dizzy. I couldn’t breathe.

  Mentally, I may have shut down for a second, because the next thing I knew, I found myself walking through the doors of Midnight Fantasy. Alice was gone. The lights were low. I shuffled down the hallway, dragging my feet, dreading what had to be done. Feeling like I was being pulled, yet resisting at the same time, being sucked into a whirlpool of drowning mistakes.

  I thought about Joey. My stupid decisions may have ruined his life when all I wanted was to make it better for him.

  I thought about Dreama. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was a disappointment.

  I thought about Finn. Finally, we’d found each other again, and we were about to be ripped apart.

  I thought about Michelle, trying to understand why she was in Roman’s office.

  If it hadn’t been for her, we could’ve run. I had enough in the bank to buy a new start somewhere. It wouldn’t be much, not at all, but we could’ve been far away. We could’ve thrown some things in a suitcase and vanished. Maybe with Finn, maybe not. I’d like to think so.

  No. I know so.

  Why, Michelle? Why were you here?

  I stood in front of Roman’s closed office door, listening. I couldn’t hear anything.

  My legs were numb.

  I knocked.

  Roman’s enraged voice boomed from the other side. “Get in here!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I stepped into Roman’s office not knowing what to expect. Would the place where I’d agreed to work for him now have two dead bodies on the floor? Would the place where I’d manipulated him with sex, long before I ever considered that I had feelings for him, now be a crime scene? I’d been there so many times, but it felt like I was walking into a place I’d never seen before.