by E. Ayers
I don’t trust that son-of-a-bitch. She downloaded several files to her flash, tidied up her desk, and made sure she had her appointment book and other important paperwork. She was still checking her things when her phone rang.
“Dr. Jones speaking. How may I help you?”
“Did I call at a bad time?”
Relief washed over her. “Oh, Trent, your voice is pure bliss to me.”
A small chuckle erupted. “It’s nice to know I have that effect on you.”
“To be honest, I’m clueless as to how any man can do what you do to me.”
“Well, we’re going to have to be on good behavior around Shawn.”
“I know. That’s crossed my mind several times today.”
“While you contemplate the impossible, may I have your car keys?”
“How soon do you want them? I’m almost ready to leave.”
“I can be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Perfect!”
Cassie made sure her cell phone number was easily available to everyone working the weekend. She was ready and waiting when Trent came through the door.
“I need this vacation.”
“We need to get your car to my house.”
“Is this going to prevent us from getting away tonight?”
“Depends on when you were planning on leaving. I’ve got the new part, but I’m not a mechanic.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Cross your fingers.”
She blew out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. “Oh, dear.”
He grinned. “I’ll carry this. What is it?”
“My laptop. Where’s Shawn?”
“At playschool. I’m going to take your car, if I can get it started, but I’d like you to follow me. Can you get your things and we’ll leave from my house?”
Trent took her home and parked his car next to hers.
She slipped out of the passenger seat and spoke to him as he popped the hood on her car. “It’ll take me a few minutes to finish packing. I did most of it last night. Do you need help?”
“I’m fine I’ll catch up to you in a few minutes.”
She gave him a quick kiss and scurried to the elevator. For two days and two nights I can forget my problems.
***
She looked over her the things she had packed and made sure she had everything she needed. A quick trip to the kitchen and she filled a brand-new cooler with a variety of bottled drinks, some wine, fruit, and other assorted things. Then dumped the last of the ice from the freezer compartment of her refrigerator into the cooler, brushed her hand on her jeans, and closed the lid.
The sharp rap on her door caused her heart to leap with joy. “It’s open, come in.”
She turned around and froze.
~~12~~
“Hi, Cassie. I’m glad to see you’re ready. You didn’t need to pack anything. I doubt you’ll be wearing anything this weekend.” Hugh Fitzgerald grinned.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’d pick you up at five thirty.”
“And I told you no.”
“Then why are you ready and waiting for me?”
“I’m not waiting for you. Get out!”
“Not until I get what I came for.”
“I’m calling security.” She took a dive for the panic button near the front door, but Hughie grabbed her.
“Now you’re mine, and we’re going to enjoy a relaxing weekend.”
“Get your hands off of me!”
“You always were feisty.”
Her mind raced, trying to remember a few self-defense tricks she had once learned, but she was feeling powerless against the large man, who probably weighted one and a half times more and towered over her by more than a foot. “Let go of me!” Her sandaled foot came down hard on his instep, but he didn’t flinch, he laughed.
“Cassie. Stop this nonsense. We’ve got all weekend. I’ll take it slow and easy on you. I’m not eighteen anymore.”
“You’re right. At sixteen, I was too scared to tell anyone what you were trying to do to me, but the kid in me is gone! So take your hands off of me before I kill you.”
The pain from his grip on her left biceps ran to her fingertips. She had to do something. His grip tightened further and her body bent under the pain. Key!
Slipping her free hand into her jeans pocket, she retrieved her door key and held it between her fingers. The ring and head were tight in her palm. She knew she only had one chance to make this work, and she was certain it would. She ran her key-fisted hand straight up under his jaw.
He reared back. “Bitch!”
Blood ran down his neck, but she didn’t care. He still held her tight. If they pull, you push in that direction.
“What the fuck are you trying to do to me?”
He grabbed her other arm and squeezed so tightly that the key almost fell from her hand. Determined to protect herself, she brought her knee up and made contact. He let go of her one arm for a split second, and she swiped at the panic button, not knowing if she had succeed in pressing it.
“You fucking, little bitch!”
Pain shot through her as he slammed her into the wall.
“Cassie?” Trent’s voice called as he tapped on the door. “Cas?” The voice was louder.
“Make him go away,” Hughie hissed in her ear.
“I can’t. I have his key.”
“He can get it later.”
She took another swing at Hughie, this time swiping the key across his cheek and into the side of his nose.
“Agh! You fucking bitch!”
***
The sounds from inside Cassie's apartment were muffled, but Trent knew something was very wrong. He tried the door handle and it opened.
"Trent!" Cassie shrieked.
Every fiber in his body tightened as he pushed the door open further. Suddenly the door slammed into him, knocking his shoulder into the doorframe. White, hot pain ripped through him. Cassie screamed. But was silenced midway.
Someone grabbed Trent and pulled him into the hallway of the apartments. He was incapable of doing anything. The searing pain still gripped him, as his hands were cuffed behind him.
“Dr. Jones? Are you all right? Dr. Jones?” A uniformed security man asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m fine. Thanks,” a male voice replied.
Trent stepped up to the door and hissed, “Dr. Jones is a petite blonde female. Something is very wrong.”
A security guard pulled Trent by his cuffed wrists away from the door. “We know Dr. Jones. Who are you?”
“Trent Callahan.”
“So why were you at her door?”
“We were planning on spending the weekend together at the beach.”
The guard looked at Trent. “Yeah, right. I’m not buying your story either.”
“Ask her.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to talk, when you are at the police station.”
Four uniformed cops rushed past him and pounded on Cassie’s door. “Dr. Jones, this is the police. We need to talk to you. Open the door.”
“I’m fine. Sorry to disturb anyone, just a minor altercation when the guy tried to break in here,” the male voice replied.
“You need to open the door, Dr. Jones,” the uniformed officer said.
“Just a moment.”
“No one should be in there with her. She was packing to leave,” Trent hissed through his clenched jaw.
The door opened slightly, but Trent couldn’t see who was on the other side from where he was standing. All he could do was watch as two officers pushed their way in, followed by two more, with their guns drawn. He could hear the scuffle and he heard the one officer telling someone he was under arrest. Seconds later, he heard the most beautiful sound.
“Trent?” Cassie shot out of her apartment and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ohmigod. Trent. Ohmigod. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. You’re bleeding.”
/> “No, Hughie’s bleeding. It’s his blood, not mine.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Can I assume you want this man?” the security officer asked.
“Oh, yes. I want him.”
Her smile beamed brightly. As soon as the cuffs were removed, Trent tried to rotate his shoulder. He held Cassie tight to his body. Tears began to spill over her cheeks and her body shook. He held her protectively for a few moments before trying to steer her back inside her apartment.
“I need both of you to answer a few questions,” an older police officer said.
“I’ve got to pick up my son from playschool.”
“You’re going to have to stay here until this is finished.”
“Doesn’t Shawn go to school with Tate’s daughter?”
“Same school, different rooms.”
“I’ll call Tate. I’m sure she’d pick him up for you.”
***
It was late when Trent, Cassie, and Shawn started on their journey to the beach. They only told Shawn that she’d had a combination of car problems and a big problem at work. He seemed to accept it and was excited about going to the beach, but within minutes of being on the road, the boy fell sound asleep.
They stopped once for coffee and a snack. They woke Shawn with the idea of allowing him to use the restroom, but Trent realized his son had wet himself.
“Even if I change him, his car seat is wet.”
“Go back to sleep, sweetie. I’ll stay here with you and Daddy can bring me a cup of coffee.”
“Why don’t you use the restroom first, and decide what you want to eat. Then I’ll go in and bring it back here,” Trent offered.
“Sounds like a good plan.”
Soon they were back on the road and Cassie wondered if driving this late was a mistake for both of them. “Are you sure you are still up to driving? I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“I’m fine. If you want to take a nap, do it.” His shoulder burned with pain and his fingers were feeling numb.
“I’m afraid if I fall asleep, you will too.”
“How far are we?”
She unfolded the paper, pulled out a pocket penlight, and read the directions. “Thirty-five, maybe forty-five more minutes? I’m not sure.”
“I’ve got to bathe him when we get in. I won’t put him in bed soaked in urine. I’ll take care of the car seat when we get up.”
“We can sleep in. Promise you won’t wake me before noon?”
“I just hope I hear Shawn when he wakes up. I don’t want him wandering around in a strange house.”
“Child-proofing?” she ventured.
“Yes.”
“I doubt that’s a problem. Tate and Ari take Pamela down there, so I’m sure every outlet is covered.”
“There’s more to it than that. Shawn is naturally curious.”
She wanted to assure him. “He’s also very bright.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“Take the road to the bridge.”
They followed the directions and slowed to a crawl as they made their way down the street, looking for the house. The porch lights burned brightly, as did the interior lights.
“They must have left every light on for us,” Trent said, when he pulled into the driveway.
As they were exiting the vehicle, the front door opened and a woman came out to them.
“Hi, Cassie. And you must be Trent. I’m Karen Makowllen, and my husband Seith is inside. Tate called and told me what happened. Please come in.” She gathered up the things Cassie had in her hands. “Follow me and I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Trent collected his son and carried him into the house. The bright modern interior was pristine, as Karen showed him to his room.
Cassie followed. “Take care of Shawn, I’ll get the rest of our stuff.”
She and Karen brought in the shopping bags that Trent had packed for the weekend.
Karen smiled brightly. “Things work in mysterious ways. I was so dismayed that I wouldn’t get to visit with you, and then Seith twisted his ankle Friday morning, which meant he couldn’t run off to that golf tournament. It’ll be so much fun being here with you.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes. His pride is injured, and he’s disappointed, but he’s fine. He needs to stay off of that foot for a week or two. I set this room up for you and Trent.”
Cassie blushed. “Trent will be sleeping with his son.”
“Really? I thought…never mind.”
“Not around Shawn.”
“Oh, I can understand. That must be awkward.”
“So far, we’ve been fine.”
“I can do something with Shawn and give you some time alone, if that would help.”
“Thanks, but this weekend was planned to give us time with Shawn”
***
Trent appeared, took the car keys from Cassie, and asked, “Is there anything left out there?”
“Just the cooler, and we can get that in the morning.” Cassie stifled a yawn.
“Go to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning. And when Shawn gets up, I’ll keep him occupied. What does he like for breakfast?” Karen asked as she locked the front door.
Trent looked at the woman, who appeared to have several years on his mom, and smiled. “We have a no junk food policy. Cookies for breakfast are not allowed.”
“I know how to spoil little boys and big ones.” Karen giggled and gave Trent a pat on his arm.
Trent peeled off his clothes and pulled on his pajama bottom. Seashell nightlights faintly glowed in various outlets. The room had been decorated in creams and browns with touches of green. He stretched out next to his freshly bathed son, inhaled the child’s clean scent, and studied the fishnet on the ceiling.
For the first time since Hugh Fitzgerald slammed him into the doorframe, he realize just how much his shoulder hurt. The pain pulsed with the beat of his heart. His son was about to undergo major heart surgery, and Cassie had lived through a nightmare. Certainly he could handle a bum shoulder.
~~13~~
Trent’s eyes flew open when Shawn got out of bed. Pain ripped through his shoulder as he forced himself out of bed.
“What’s a matter?” Shawn asked.
“I hurt my shoulder last night. It’ll be fine.”
“It doesn’t look fine. It’s lower than your other one.”
Trent stared in the mirror and knew something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. It was lower and it hurt like hell. “Get dressed and I’ll make you some breakfast.”
Trent wet his son’s blond hair and tried to tame the tufts that wanted to stick out in the wrong places. Putting a finger to his lips, Trent pointed to the door. Together they tiptoed out of the room, in search of the kitchen. He should have known the Makowllens would be awake. There sat a gray-haired man, sipping his coffee and reading the morning paper.
“Hi, I’m Trent and this is Shawn,” he introduced himself to the older gentleman.
“I’d get up, but it’s too much hassle,” Seith said. “Apparently I’m missing a good tournament. Buck Zaro is one heck of a good player, and he was going to be my partner.”
“Well, that’s what you get trying to do everything yourself. You should have let me call someone, or at least waited until Patty was here to help you,” Karen scolded.
Trent looked at this couple, having no idea who they were talking about, or what exactly had transpired. “If you don’t mind, may I fix something for my son’s breakfast?”
Karen pulled out two chairs. “Sit. Coffee?”
“Thanks, but I need to fix something for Shawn.”
“Not while I’m here. What would you like for breakfast? I can fix French toast.”
“I love French toast, ma’am. Is that okay, Daddy?”
“Yes.” Trent reached to take the proffered cup of coffee and winced.
“And what did you do to your shoulder? It looks
awful.”
“The scar is old, but I hit it last night. Must have re-injured it.”
“Are your shoulders always that uneven?”
Trent shook his head.
Karen reached over and cupped her hands over it, causing Trent to gasp.
“That’s nothing little. You’re going to the emergency room. It looks dislocated. I’ll feed the two of you and then you get dressed. Seith and Shawn can watch TV. I’ll drive you there. We don’t have a fancy hospital here, but there is a well-staffed complex that handles the community’s needs. Anything major they airlift to a hospital on the mainland.”
Less than four hours of pain-ridden sleep was not enough, but Karen’s breakfast was delicious, and he honestly hurt too much to protest a trip to the doctor.
He emerged from the local medical center with his arm in a sling and two prescriptions for painkillers. He needed surgery, and the doctor assured him that it wasn’t an emergency, but it did need to be corrected as soon as possible. Until then, he had to keep his arm in a sling.
“The doc said they do it as out-patient surgery. He told me I could take the stronger pill at night and use the other during the day, but I can’t drive a car or operate heavy equipment on them, and that’s my job.” Trent walked from the hospital to Karen's car.
“Fill both of them,” Karen said with her motherly-take-charge attitude. “You’re not working this weekend, and Cassie can drive you home. You’re in pain.”
Trent held Karen's car door for her, then went around to the passenger side and climbed in. “I don’t want to sleep this time away.”
“You won’t. Use a good sun block and relax on the beach. You and Cassie don’t have to lift a finger to do anything. The only thing you are going to do while you are here is relax and enjoy the beach.”
He smiled at the blonde woman who appeared much younger than her years. “Thanks. Shawn’s never been to the beach, and it’s been years since I’ve been.”