The Mistaken

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The Mistaken Page 20

by Nancy S Thompson


  I snorted. “What about me?”

  “Anyone else in your life besides your jerk of a husband?”

  “Soon to be ex-husband,” I corrected.

  “Good for you, Hannah.”

  “Well, I do have a son, Conner. He’s fifteen and a typical teenager, I guess. He’s suffered a lot because of his father being gone so much. I try to make sure I don’t come between them. It’s hard though. Beck’s such an ass. Conner’s with him for the next few days. It’s the first time since we split that Beck’s had visitation. It was hard to let Conner go when I dropped him off this morning.” Thinking back on it, I couldn’t believe it had been less than a day since I had delivered Conner to his father. It felt like a lifetime had gone by.

  “Now that you’re divorcing, will you move out of that neighborhood you hate so much?” he asked.

  “I’d like to. That place is more Beck’s style than mine. I’ve only made a handful of friends, and only one good one, at that, so there’s nothing actually keeping me there. And I really don’t think I’d be missed anyway.”

  It was difficult to admit out loud just how lonely I’d been over the last few years, how there was not really anyone who would even know I was gone or might become alarmed if they happened to see the current condition of my house.

  “Somehow, Hannah, I doubt that very much,” he said with a genuineness that made me smile. “It seems to me that neither one of us has had the happy ending we want. What a pair we make.” He chuckled then, but it carried more than a hint of bitterness. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to find a place to pull off the road and have a bite to eat, stretch my legs a bit. This car is a bit cramped for me. Does that sound okay to you?”

  I agreed, and after a few miles, Ty turned down a gravel road just off the two-lane highway we were traveling. About a quarter mile in, he pulled over and parked. While he grabbed the bag of food, I pulled a small blanket from the trunk and spread it out on the grass under some trees.

  Ty sat down and arranged the selection of junk food along the edge of the blanket, choosing what he wanted for himself. I leaned to sit down and grimaced in pain. Ty offered his hand in assistance, but I declined with a shake of my head. He studied me closely, his eyes tense and wary. My discomfort and bruised face seemed to make him uneasy. He turned away, but he couldn’t ignore the issue. It was like a large elephant stuffed in a tiny closet, and he swallowed hard at its presence.

  “Hannah, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am,” he began, keeping his eyes averted. “What I’ve done…” he said and sighed, “what I almost did… It’s truly unforgivable. I am so deeply ashamed. I know it’s not a valid excuse, but I was just so angry.” He peeked up at me briefly then returned to stare at the blanket.

  “After Jillian died, I just… I gave up. I allowed myself to drown in sorrow and alcohol—a great deal of alcohol,” he admitted. “My brother and I would lie around the house, thoroughly wasted, and dream up ways to get even with Erin. It became a daily obsession, really, as pathetic as that sounds.” He looked up and captured my attention. “Every day, I’ve been consumed with rage, bitterness, and hatred for that woman. I drank far too much, just to dull it all into manageable moments of time.” He looked back down in shame again, shaking his head. “I still do. It’s a real problem for me.”

  His hands trembled. He clenched them into fists to disguise it.

  “It’s been hours since my last drink—way too many—just before I came to your door. I’ll need to...” he stopped short of finishing, the words difficult for him to say aloud. Then he sighed and continued. “I’ll need to deal with that very soon,” he said as he looked up at me once more. “On top of everything else, it’s not a good time for me to cope with withdrawal. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I stared into his eyes as I tried to comprehend his motive for sharing this with me. I broke away first, nodding in acceptance, but fearing what it would mean for me. I grabbed a small package of crackers, desperate for something else to focus on. As we ate in silence, Ty’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the display with concern.

  “It’s Nick,” he said.

  He stood up and walked away to conduct his conversation in private. I watched him closely as he spoke with his brother. When Ty looked over and caught me studying him, he turned and walked farther into the trees. It was easy to discern that their conversation had become urgent and heated, at least on Tyler’s end. He was pretty agitated, raising his hand to his head and stomping his foot, but I wasn’t sure if it was simply the conversation or if his need for a drink was exacerbating the situation. When he ended the call, he hung his head low. He put his hands on his hips and just stood there turned away from me as he collected himself.

  He stomped his way back over to me and said, “Finish up, we’re taking off.”

  “Why? We just got here.”

  “Just finish up,” he snapped, and I couldn’t help but flinch. He was instantly sorry, holding his hand out, as if to calm himself down. It was shaking even more than before. “Look, I’m sorry, but… We need to go.” He put both hands in his pockets and stormed off to the car.

  I stared after him, growing more concerned by the minute. I gathered up the food and blanket and stood up to walk back to the car when I thought I saw someone move through the trees about fifty yards away.

  “Oh my God, Ty. Ty!” I pointed into the forest, “I think I just saw someone over there.”

  He ran over and scanned the area evenly, but didn’t see anything. He reached down and picked up the bundle I’d dropped.

  “Get in the car,” he commanded.

  He turned, took hold of my arm, and pulled me along, throwing the bundle into the open trunk. Then he forced me into my seat and slammed my door shut. He jumped into his own seat, started the car, and drove off, scattering dirt and gravel behind us as the tires spun. Ty glanced repeatedly in the rear view mirror, his paranoia all too evident. Maybe he hadn’t actually seen anyone, but he believed it possible that someone was there, watching us. He seemed frightened by the possibility, and not knowing exactly what it was he feared scared me, as well.

  “Ty, I need you to be completely honest and tell me what’s going on. Why are you so upset? What did your brother say to you?”

  He was reluctant to share, but my expression warned him that I was about to get difficult if he didn’t. He threw me a sideways glance and groaned.

  “Nick hasn’t had any luck with his associates yet. They’re being belligerent, and Nick is frustrated,” he explained without really telling me much.

  “Who are these associates of his, anyway? What kind of control do they have over him?”

  He paused, searching for the right words. “Well, these people, they’re not just some neighborhood street thugs as I implied. They’re actually highly organized, more like a family than a gang, and I’ve had a run-in or two with them over the last few years trying to extricate my brother from their control. When I told you I’d received a beating from them, I failed to mention that I injured one of their men. Apparently, a lost man is a great expense, or so Nick’s boss explained to him. Guess it was his way of saying I was lucky to come out of it alive. Nick stepped in for me, I’m sure, said something to get them off my back, but you can’t cross these people without expecting to somehow pay for it in the future, at their convenience, of course. I’m sure they think I owe them big time, just for letting me live.

  “As an organization, they have their hand in just about everything: protection, prostitution, extortion, drugs, gambling. You name it, they deal in it. And to make matters even worse, they have their other hand deep in the pockets of some very wealthy, powerful men, and not just in San Francisco, either, but the entire state, the whole west coast, plus New York, Chicago, Miami, even overseas. They have considerable influence.”

  I stared at him, my eyes narrowing in concentration. My mouth fell open of its own accord, and I sucked in a long breath.

  “
Wait a second. Are you telling me you owe your debt to the mob?”

  “Yes. The Russian syndicate, to be exact. And I have to find a way to repay them...without using you to do so, as I promised them.”

  “Great. That’s just perfect. And what was supposed to happen after you traded me in?” I asked though I was frightened by whatever answer I might receive.

  Ty took a deep breath and released a groan. “Erin, not you,” he corrected, avoiding my question.

  “Ty, please. Just tell me.”

  “Hannah, it won’t do you any good to—”

  I pounded my hand against the window. “Tell me, godammit. You owe me that much!”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, apprehension tightening his expression. “Okay, okay. You’re right, but…just try to stay calm, all right?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Just tell me.”

  “Well, their cartel brings people into the country illegally. They smuggle in a lot of Russians, Ukrainians, Eastern Europeans, that sort. Many of them can’t pay the entire price of admission, so to speak, so they’re indentured into positions such as cooks, gardeners, nannies, whatever is needed.” Ty hesitated and glanced over at me, which made me even more nervous.

  “Human trafficking. I get it. I’ve seen it on the news. Keep going.”

  “Well, some of the women are indentured into…brothels and similar positions.”

  “What do you mean? Like sex slaves?”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  I realized that this might be my fate and my body shook in abject horror. Bile rose up into my throat.

  “Am I to be sold this way?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, but…as far as they’re concerned, you already have been.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tyler

  I knew I probably shouldn’t have told Hannah the entire truth, but I felt she deserved to know what we were up against. But perhaps brutal honesty was another mistake on my part, because she started to cry as she stared out the windshield. She sucked in her breath in gulping sobs, hyperventilating.

  “Hannah, please relax. I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe. They won’t get to you.” I reiterated my promise, though to be honest, my confidence was not as firm as I would have liked.

  Her hands trembled as she raised them to her face.

  “Calm down. You have nothing to worry about, I swear.”

  “Pull over,” she said breathlessly. She pulled at the handle, trying to open the door as I sped down the highway. The locks popped up automatically. One more pull and the door would open.

  “Hannah, stop!” I grabbed her wrist to prevent her from tumbling out.

  “Pull over! Stop the car, stop the car!” she screamed, banging on the window and clawing at the handle.

  I slammed on the brakes and swerved to the shoulder as I held on to her wrist. She escaped my grasp when I shifted into neutral. Cars blew by with their horns blaring, veering to avoid hitting us from behind or swiping us from the side. Hannah managed to get her door open and tried to scramble out, but her shoulder got caught in the harness of her seatbelt and she landed on her hands and knees. She climbed quickly to her feet and sprinted away.

  “Hannah! Stop!”

  As the car rolled forward, I pulled up on the parking break then dashed out to chase her down. I caught her from behind, around the waist, thirty yards or so from the car, and pulled her off her feet. She flailed about frantically and clipped me on the cheekbone with her elbow. Momentarily stunned, I dropped her to the ground. She landed on her rear and skittered away backwards, crying out.

  “Stay away from me, you sick bastard!” Hannah’s eyes were filled with fear as she looked up at me from the ground.

  I raised my hands up. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I won’t touch you, I promise. Just stop, Hannah, please.” I stopped moving toward her and bent down onto my knees.

  She crab-walked even farther away.

  “I’m sorry, Hannah, okay? Just stop.” I stood, my hands raised high, and backed up until she finally ceased moving away from me. I lowered myself to my knees again and called out to her. “It’s okay, Hannah. Nothing will happen to you, I swear. Please, just calm down for one minute.”

  “You bastard! How could you do such a thing? It’s inhuman!”

  “Please, Hannah, cars are slowing down. People are watching us from the roadway. This is dangerous. We need to get back in the car.”

  I looked repeatedly over my shoulder at the passing cars, worried that one of them might be Alexi’s henchman. When one slowed down and turned off onto the shoulder, I stood up and walked toward Hannah, still on her backside with her hands propped behind her.

  She kicked dirt and pebbles at me as I came closer. “Get away from me, you monster!”

  “Hannah, we have to go. This isn’t safe,” I urged, my hand outstretched. I glanced back at the car now stopped just a few yards ahead of Hannah’s BMW.

  “Your lovely Jill would be so fucking proud of you!”

  At the mention of Jill’s name, rage filtered through me, and I snapped. I was on her in an instant, pulling her to her feet by her elbows, dragging her face to within an inch of my own. I gave her a sharp jolt.

  “I would think knowing personally what a dangerous monster I really am would keep you from further pissing me off! Now get back into the goddamn car!”

  Her eyes were wide with fear, but her lips were pressed together in anger. We stared each other in the eye for several moments before I released her and stepped back.

  Sweat slicked my forehead, and my hands shook at my sides. I moved away and held out my arm, directing Hannah back to the car. She glared at me and brushed by without saying another word. I followed closely behind her, motioning to our audience that everything was fine. A man and a woman sat inside, their eyes bewildered and glued to my face. I’m sure my expression was enough to keep them inside their vehicle, but I didn’t want to test the point. I feared they might have the urge to call the state patrol. Hannah and I got back into the car and I pulled onto the highway. We drove in silence for a good twenty minutes.

  “We’re stopping as soon as I can find a motel and store,” I announced.

  She didn’t respond. She sat in stony silence, never even glancing my way. I was relieved when the Columbia River Gorge rose up before us ninety minutes later. Biggs, Oregon, a town so small it was hardly worth a blip on the map, rose up on the far side of a windswept bridge. I pulled into a motel parking lot heavily populated with semi-trucks. I stopped in front of the office, keeping the car and Hannah within sight as I checked in. The desk clerk stood up straight and pulled a burning cigarette from between his lips. He waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and smiled a yellow-toothed greeting.

  “Evenin’,” he said. “What can I do for ya?”

  “One room, two beds, if you have it.”

  He shook his head and the long thread of ashes at the end of his cigarette dropped onto the counter. “Sorry, buddy, only got a single queen left.” He swept the ashes away onto the floor then tipped his chin toward the front door. “There’s an event across the river tomorrow at the museum, and them windsurfers got some kinda’ race or somethin'. We’re almost full up.”

  I balled my hand into a fist. Hannah would no doubt believe I somehow plotted against her. I turned my head and spied her through the glass. Her eyes were trained on me in concentrated focus. Keeping my emotions in check, I doled out some cash and slid it across the scarred countertop.

  “Whatever. The farthest room available then. Ground floor.”

  “I need a credit card for the security deposit.”

  I tossed Hannah’s card across the desk. “Here, but don’t run it through until I see you in the morning.”

  He nodded and passed me the paperwork to sign before handing me a key. I drove around to the room, relieved to see that it was not easily visible from the highway a hundred yards away. I opened the door and waited for Hannah to
enter first, calculating her inevitable reaction.

  She stopped short and whipped around to face me. “One bed? Really?” she said with her teeth clenched together.

  “Sorry, it’s all they had.” I threw the bag of food on the table. “Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  I didn’t imagine for one minute that I would be sleeping at all, let alone on the floor, but I needed to reassure her I wouldn’t be the big, bad monster again. She turned away in a huff and settled on the edge of the bed, her knees twitching back and forth.

  “I’m going to walk over to the market across the road,” I said. “I’ll pick up stuff to eat for tonight and something for the morning. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

  Though I was trying my damnedest to be polite, she just shook her head, not even bothering to look my way. That irritated me, probably because I needed a drink, but still, she could have at least acknowledged my effort.

  “Fine,” I said. “Keep the door locked, your ass inside, and don’t do anything stupid. Understood?”

  I said this as much as a warning as to get under her skin. She snapped her head toward me and threw me a scathing look. I grinned and turned away, slamming the door closed behind me.

  I breathed in deeply on my way to the market in an effort to cool my simmering temper. God, but she had a way of getting to me. I berated myself, knowing it was my own fault. I had put her in the position of having to defend herself. What else could I expect?

  “I am such an ass,” I said aloud as I entered the store, caught up in my own thoughts.

  A woman chuckled as she passed by on her way out. I glanced at her over my shoulder, embarrassed. She turned and walked backwards away from me with a flirtatious smile spread across her face. I ducked in and behind the store shelves to avoid her lingering stare.

  I moved around the store and selected an array of snacks to share with Hannah. The sale of hard alcohol in Oregon was strictly controlled by the government. Luckily, the one store in town was licensed to sell. I perused the liquor, selecting what I knew would get me through the night while not altering my mood too much. Tequila was definitely out, so I chose vodka and a six-pack of beer to chase it down. I paid for my purchases with Hannah’s cash. On the way back to the room, I dialed Nick’s cell to see if he had made any progress. The call was picked up after only one ring.

 

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