Fighting Redemption

by Sidney Bristol

  “Where are you right now? What’s your address?”

  Lucia gave her the apartment complex name instead. Thankfully it was one Jenna was familiar with. It was maybe five miles from Trevor’s house, and seven from hers. Not a bad distance if she got stranded before she could organize a ride.

  Alex—and Trevor—were going to kill her, but she couldn’t say no to a baby. Besides, if she sat here in an empty house she’d drive herself crazy with rage and self-pity. Helping the baby would keep her mind and body busy.

  Jenna gave Lucia the address to the house and hung up. She changed into athletic shorts and a t-shirt, and exchanged her heavy boots for running shoes. Her med kit was a big, bulky thing, so she pared it down, selecting what she deemed safe for a baby and fit it all in the bag she kept with her SWAT gear for dirty clothes. It would stink, but if she had to hoof it back on her own, she wouldn’t be that badly off.

  Should she tell the guys where she was going?

  If Alex knew, he’d turn around and come back, putting not only the baby in danger, but his operation and his team. She couldn’t tell him. But Trevor? She nibbled on her bottom lip. Trevor was a rule follower. He liked the letter of the law. It was in his blood. She’d never discussed her after hours trips playing doctor because he’d try to convince her not to go, that it wasn’t safe or right.

  She couldn’t tell Trevor either. Which meant she was leaping without a net. It wasn’t a great idea, especially if she was being watched. But wasn’t she in greater danger alone than around people? Safety in numbers, right?

  Jenna scrolled back through her calls and tapped Sterling’s name. The call connected and rang before she got it to her ear.

  Ring. Ring.

  “Hey, miss me?” Sterling’s voice was lighter, happier. She sounded like she had when Jenna left her at the diner.

  “Every second, sugar mamma.” Jenna grinned. Man, they’d had some fun together.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need a favor and I need you to not ask questions.”

  “You want me to follow orders?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, what’s up?”

  “I’m going into unknown territory for an off-the-record job. If I don’t make contact in...thirty minutes, call the Ransom police department and ask for a man named Trevor Walters. Got a pen?”

  “One sec. Okay, shoot.”

  Jenna listed off the apartment complex and the address, plus the number for the department. Trevor wouldn’t answer an unknown caller, so it was pointless to give Sterling his direct number unless they wanted to deal with wasted time.

  “Are you doing something stupid?” Sterling asked.

  “Yes and no. What I’m doing isn’t stupid, but the conditions are.” She peered out through the dining room window. A beat up, white suburban pulled up to the curb, all the windows down and a woman at the wheel. Her chariot had arrived.

  “You’re going to tell me what this is all about later.”

  “I’ll tell you everything. We just didn’t get there this morning. Thanks, Sterling, you’re a lifesaver.”

  “Doing my duty.”

  “It’s a big duty.” Jenna chuckled and punched in the security code.

  “Be safe. I’m setting a timer now.”

  “Perfect. Over and out.”

  She hung up and let herself out of the house, flipping the flimsy lock in lieu of the deadbolt since she didn’t have a key. For better or worse, she was on her own now.

  17.

  JENNA KEPT THE FROWN off her face, but it didn’t stop the gut churning worry from eating her up. Lucia was right, the baby was bad sick, but not to the point where she needed to be hospitalized. Jenna’s main concern was ensuring the infant got enough liquids in her and that the temperature continued to come down.

  She checked the thermometer one last time and slumped against the wall next to the bassinet.

  “Ninety-nine point one,” she announced.

  Lucia clutched her daughter’s shoulders and closed her eyes. The fear and anxiety evaporated in light of the latest reading.

  Jenna glanced at the clock once more. Sterling was still touching base every fifteen minutes by text and Trevor had yet to call her, so he must have gotten tied up at work. Worst case scenario, Jenna got back to the house before he did and she hung out on his man-porch in the back yard until he arrived.

  “Keep her cool, make sure she’s hydrated and stick to that medicine schedule, okay?” Jenna gathered her things. She had to get to walking, or she’d be out in the dark. “If she gets worse, you’ll have to take her to the emergency room. I won’t be able to come back, understand?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Lucia’s daughter smiled.

  Jenna didn’t want to leave. The baby wasn’t the only one unwell—Lucia’s daughter, whose name she could never remember, was too frail, her skin color a bit off and she swayed on her feet. Both mother and child needed medical care the family couldn’t afford. They had six people crammed into a one bedroom apartment that should only accommodate two.

  This was what she hated. Knowing there were people out there that needed her skills—and not being able to help them. Sure, she volunteered and put in hours with a couple charities that held events for lower income families, but there was always more that could be done.

  “I’ve got to get home. Remember, everyone washes their hands before touching the baby. If anyone is sick, they stay in the living room. And keep the baby hydrated. Don’t forget to drink more water yourselves. Get some rest, too.”

  There was less than an hour before sunset. Shit. She’d waited longer than she intended to leave. She could still make it to Trevor’s before dark, but it was going to be close.

  Lucia saw her to the front door and let her out. Jenna slung the strap over her head so the bulk of the weight sat against her lower back. It would bounce less if she decided to jog. She stopped by a vending machine, but it only sold sugary soft drinks. No water, not even a high priced sports drink. Damn.

  There was bound to be a convenience store or something on her way so she opted to get going.

  She mapped the fastest route back to Trevor’s on foot then texted Sterling.

  So far, so good.

  The main roads would be busy with people going home or out for the evening. It was a safe enough time to be on her own without fear of being followed or having an incident.

  She recited her route before pocketing the phone and setting out at a good, warm up pace to get her loosened up. Ideally she’d have stretched, but she needed to beat Trevor home and every second counted.

  Her muscles ached the first dozen or so strides. She concentrated on her breathing and kept her gaze active, sweeping the street ahead of her, taking stock of the people in their yards, the children playing in drives and the vehicles on the go.

  Just another normal, suburban evening.

  Despite the lateness of the hour, the temperature was still up over a hundred. Sweat ran down her back and slicked hair to her face. She wasn’t familiar enough with the route to know if she might luck onto a convenience store or something. The question was, could she spare the time off the road to grab some water?

  She zigzagged her way through the first three turns before digging her phone back out.

  Her stride faltered for a second.

  Rosemont St. was a two lane, main thoroughfare that bisected the street she lived on. She was miles from home, but not as many as she’d like to be if her goal was to avoid a stalker. It couldn’t be helped. There was no way to avoid Rosemont and get to Trevor’s. She’d just have to keep her pace steady, eyes open and make every second count. Which meant no stopping, even for a water break.

  The houses on one side of Rosemont were established, well cared for, and on the other, uniform and new. It was a major dividing line between the old Ransom and new. She had vague memories of her grandparents living in one of those historic homes when she was little before her grandfather had passed.

  Jenna
kept her head up as she approached the street, the hair on the back of her neck lifting. It was just her imagination, but damn, she wished she would have paid more attention to where the apartments were in relation to Trevor’s house. Her place, his and the apartments were a triangle, and she was jogging in the danger area.

  The light at the intersection with Rosemont flipped to yellow.

  Yes!

  She put on a little speed and by the time she reached the corner the traffic was stopped—or what constituted as traffic in Ransom.

  The dread sloughed off as she left Rosemont in her dust.

  This was good.

  She could make it back to Trevor’s now.

  But not before dark.

  The sun dipped lower until it was a little sliver of light on the horizon. Pinks, oranges and yellows bled into purple, blue and indigo as twilight set in. Every passing minute, the light lessened. She wasn’t too worried. The city’s street light initiative meant most of her way would be well lit, but not all of it.

  She turned onto one of the newer streets. There were even a few lots along this stretch that had just broken ground. A lot of people in Ft Worth wanted to move out to communities like Ransom for the quieter life, which meant homes were always being built.

  An older, oddly colored, kind of spearmint green, car sat up next to the curb. She’d never seen something so ugly—but, it was familiar. A bit like déjà vu.

  She jogged past, glancing at the back of the car.

  There was mud smeared along the bumper, over the plate and up onto the trunk.

  The rest of it was spotless.

  Mud.

  Alex had said the car out in front of his neighbor’s house had mud on its plate. That was why they didn’t have the complete plate number. He’d chalked it up to being paranoid. Ransom was small, but not that small. And Alex didn’t even live in the city limits.

  That could be her stalker’s car.

  Adrenaline gave her speed. Her heart rat-tat-tatted against her ribs, hammering out a frenzied pace her feet couldn’t keep up with. Sweat poured off her, and yet she was cold to the point of chill bumps breaking out along her legs and arms.

  Right—there was a right turn up here somewhere.

  She just needed to get somewhere safe. Find people. A gas station, a store, anything with a door and a lock would do.

  Jenna glanced back at the car. In the waning light, the spearmint color stood out. There wasn’t another soul along this stretch of road. It was lined with mostly privacy fences.

  Her lungs burned, protesting her accelerated pace. But she needed to get away. To be far from here.

  There.

  The house on the corner.

  She didn’t know what street this was, but if she could turn, get off this main road, find a house, call for help, everything would be okay. As she passed the end of the privacy fence, someone stepped out from the shadows and grabbed her arm. She yelped and tried to jerk free, but her momentum helped the man sling her around. She went face first into the wooden fence. Pain blossomed, starting in her nose and forehead, radiating backward. The scent of pine filled her nostrils.

  Move.

  Scream.

  Do something!

  Jenna shook her head, sending hot rocks of agony rolling around in her skull. The man grabbed her arm again. He had large hands, slightly roughened. His body pressed hers to the wood.

  “Jenna, my Jenna,” he whispered, his face pressed to her cheek.

  Her skin crawled and her stomach tied in knots. He was going to kill her, or worse. And there was nothing she could do about it. She whimpered, her body paralyzed with fear so potent even her toes throbbed.

  Fight back, dam it. You didn’t survive Afghanistan to die now.

  Jenna planted her hands on the fence and shoved back with all her weight. She needed space. She needed to get away from him. He stumbled a few steps, just enough for her to move. She leaned her shoulder against the fence and kicked. He twisted in a clumsy fashion, her foot glancing off his thigh.

  He wasn’t a fighter.

  He didn’t know how to subdue her. He’d just happened to catch her unaware.

  He lunged for her again. This time she was ready. She knocked his hands aside and backed up toward the house, putting distance between them. It was too dark to make out what little of his face she could see. The hood on his jacket was up and a bandana covered his nose and mouth—but the eyes. They saw straight through her.

  The man reached for something in his pocket. An object she couldn’t see.

  Jenna sucked down a deep breath and screamed, putting everything she had into that breath.

  All her training would do jack shit if the man had a gun and the chance to use it. In close proximity, he couldn’t miss.

  “Help! Help me!” She grabbed one of the stones lining the flower bed along the house and hurled it at him.

  Her attacker dodged the stone. She caught a glimpse of something shiny. Like metal.

  “Help!” She bolted, sprinting toward the front of the house and nearly ran face first into a man carrying a catcher’s mit. Well-built, early forties, he was a normal, suburban dad and no match for a gun fight. “He’s got a gun!”

  Jenna shoved the man, and they both toppled to the grass. She kept rolling, doing her best to keep the brick house between her and the stalker.

  “What’s going on?” another male voice asked.

  Jenna shoved up to her knees. There were people around; men, women and children. God, children. She whirled but the only thing behind her was the befuddled baseball dad.

  “He had a gun,” she blurted.

  “Andrew?” the second man asked.

  “What? No.” Andrew the baseball dad was already on his feet. He took three steps and peered at the space where she’d skirmished with the stalker. “I was getting the boys inside and heard her. Looked over and there was this guy here. Are you okay?”

  Jenna sat in the grass, her head cradled in her hands.

  “Miss?” The second man knelt at her side.

  “I’ve got 9-1-1 on the phone.” A woman stood on the porch, two kids clustered around her.

  “Ask for Detective Trevor Walters. Tell them it’s Jenna.” Her hands shook so bad and her stomach clenched. She was going to hurl.

  “Here, give your hand. That’s a nasty bump.”

  The second man grasped her by the hands and around the waist. He hoisted her to her feet, doing most of the work, as though he realized her mobility were offline. The ground did a little lurching under her, but that could be from the adrenaline, the bump to the head, any of it.

  “I found this in the grass over there. Did you drop it?” Andrew held out his hand.

  Sitting in his palm was a god-awful looking gold ring with a black stone.

  A Founder’s Ring.

  Jenna swallowed and took the jewelry between her fingers, somewhat afraid to even touch it.

  “Bring her inside.” The woman took charge of Andrew and her husband, ushering Jenna inside, directing the children to their rooms. She directed Jenna to a comfortable, cushy arm chair while the men whispered between themselves.

  Jenna’s body was ten times too heavy. The weight of it all pressed her down so far she wasn’t sure she’d ever get out of the chair. She was only vaguely aware of Andrew and two other men coming in and leaving before the wife reappeared with ice and a bottle of pain killers.

  “Thanks.” Jenna took the ice, but declined the pills.

  “The lady says a patrol car is almost here.” Her hostess had a cordless phone crammed between her shoulder and head.

  “What about Trevor?” Jenna asked.

  “I’m not...hold on.” Her hostess tilted her head, pressing the phone to her ear. “You said you’re Jenna?”

  “Me? Yes. Jenna Martin.”

  “Yes, that’s her...Oh, okay. Thanks.” She hung up the cell phone and clutched it in both hands. From the pinched, pale expression, whatever dispatch had said didn’t please her.r />
  “What’d they say?”

  “Trevor should be here in a minute.”

  “Oh, good.” At least she would only have to deal with an angry Trevor. Having to explain herself to a pair of patrolmen was not high on her list of things to do.

  “But shouldn’t they send more cops? An ambulance?”

  Jenna chuckled and leaned on the arm rest. “I am usually already in the ambulance for calls like this. And Trevor is the detective handling my...case.”

  “You know who that person was?” The woman’s eyes widened.

  “No. That was actually the first time I’ve seen him face to face.” Those eyes... “Do you have a pen and paper? I need to write down what I remember before I forget it.”

  “Oh my God, sign of the times, I guess. Here.” She grabbed a notepad off the kitchen counter and handed it to Jenna.

  The man was a little taller than her, but he’d also had the advantage of higher ground. When she’d looked straight at him, he’d been—what? Five-ten? Five-eleven? Maybe not that tall. He’d dressed like a young thug, but the jeans were definitely Wranglers and the baggy hoodie brand new. Even the bandana had that starched look. His face though...bluest eyes and she couldn’t be certain, but she’d had a brief impression of wrinkles. An older man, perhaps?

  The bird-man call had been a young guy.

  Were they related?

  The doorbell startled her from falling into spiraling thoughts. A second later her phone buzzed.

  It was Trevor.

  Where r u?

  “That’s my ride,” Jenna said.

  Her hostess peered out of the living room window before circling to the door. Jenna followed and found the three men clustered on the stoop with Trevor in their midst. He glanced at her, and the look was not kind.

  Man, she was in trouble.

  TREVOR CLIMBED INTO his SUV. He waved at the people in the driveway and fired up the engine. Jenna sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

  This was a fucking wreck.

  “He had my ring. My grandmother’s ring.” She thrust a Founders Ring into his hands.

  Shit.

  He grabbed an evidence bag and dropped it in. The chance of getting anything off it was slim, but he’d take what they could get.