Love You Always

by Lorin, Terra

  “I insist.” His eyes capture me again.

  When we get to my house, Jade is yelling, my dad is yelling—we can hear them from the driveway as we step outside the car.

  Maybe you’d better stay out here,” I tell him, embarrassed that he’s hearing my family squabble.

  “Okay,” he agrees without protest. I’m sure this must be uncomfortable for him.

  I walk in the door and Jade is crying while yelling obscenities at my dad. My sister was never one to hold back on her outbursts, even to my father, but this is the worst I’ve seen her.

  “You’re a fucking loser, a drunkard, and an asshole!” Jade spews out.

  They’re so focused on each other and their quarrel that they don’t seem to notice I’m here.

  “You little whore!” my dad yells at her before slapping her across the face, hard enough to send her sprawling onto the floor.

  When it looks like he’s about to strike her again, I yell, “Stop!”

  Dad looks at me and freezes mid-swing. Next thing I know, Marcus is by my side. He must’ve come in when he heard me yell out.

  “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Jade cries, holding her cheek, tears spilling from her eyes as she glares up at Dad.

  As she runs upstairs, sobbing, Dad yells, “That’ll teach you to fucking talk to me that way! I’m still your father, and don’t you forget it!”

  I stand petrified to witness what just went on between them. I’ve never seen my dad hit her like that. Sure, we got spanked when we were kids, but Dad wasn’t violent with us. I admit we had a crappy childhood, but not because we were abused, mainly because our parents never gave a shit about us. At the age of eleven, I mainly took care of my siblings while my parents were either working or gallivanting around. They did their minimum duties as parents.

  Even though Dad wasn’t the violent type, after Mom left and especially after Spence’s death, he changed—his mood darkened, he drank more—but he still never abused us, at least not me. Was he abusing Jade while I was away at college?

  I assumed her change was because of Spence’s death, but could it have been because of Dad?

  Oh God, I hope not.

  My dad slumps to his chair. “Your sister is going to be the death of me. I’m ready to wipe my hands clean of her.”

  “Dad, you don’t mean that.” I walk over to him and sit on the couch that is perpendicular to his chair. My eyes plead with him to take back those words.

  I glance at the three beer cans on his side table.

  “Dad, this is Marcus.” I turn to beckon Marcus, and he sits down beside me.

  “Sir,” Marcus greets him with a nod of his head. He’s not smiling though, and his voice isn’t friendly; it’s matter-of-fact. I assume the scene he just witnessed disturbed him.

  Dad doesn’t say a word as he stares at Marcus for a few seconds and then turns his attention to me.

  “Yes, I do mean it. Your sister is driving me crazy.”

  “Dad, are you hitting her?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  My heart is beating fast. What the hell is going on behind my back?

  Dad looks at Marcus. “You’re putting up my one daughter; can’t you take the other one off my hands too? I swear, if I don’t get some peace, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Dad says as he swipes a hand downward over his face. He looks so tired. “I’ve got enough pressure at work. I don’t need this crap from her.”

  Marcus and I look at each other. I can’t ask him to do this, especially with everything going on with Angela.

  “I’ll be happy to have your other daughter stay with us,” Marcus says.

  “Good. Take her with you today. I don’t want to see her back here until she behaves.”

  I feel awful. Marcus is being thrown a responsibility he can’t refuse. How can he say no to this?

  Although I don’t want Marcus to feel obligated or forced, I see no other alternative. Jade can’t stay here with my father feeling the way he does—who knows if he won’t hit her again. There isn’t any place else she can go; we have no relatives close by she can stay with—there’s nobody.

  “I’m going out. She better be gone by the time I get back.”

  My dad leaves.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, apology written all over my face.

  “Why? I would have offered it even if he didn’t ask. After I heard you yell, and seeing your sister on the floor, I could guess what was going on.” He holds my hand. “I wouldn’t have let your sister stay here another day with him.”

  “He’s never been like this before. At least, not in front of me. Jade must really push his buttons.”

  “In any case, we’re taking her from here.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him as my eyes also show him my gratitude.

  “Do you want me to come upstairs with you?” he asks.

  “No, I can handle it. I’ve been handling her for years.” I remember my manners. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Help yourself if you change your mind. The kitchen is through there.” I point my finger in its direction.

  I leave him and head upstairs.

  Knock. Knock.

  “Jade, let me in.”

  “Go away.”

  “We’re taking you away from here. You can stay with me for now.” I tilt my head and rest it on her door.

  There’s silence.

  “Jade?”

  I hear the door unlock. She opens it.

  “Why should I want to go with you?” Her voice is sarcastic.

  “Because it’s a hell of a lot better than staying here with Dad like this. Why do you push him?”

  “You don’t know anything, Laura.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  She looks me in the eyes. Jade inherited my mother’s hazel eyes, while Spence and I inherited blue eyes from my dad. When we were kids, she wished she could have blue eyes like my brother and me. I, on the other hand, always thought her eyes were beautiful because they would shift in color depending on the lighting or the way the sunlight hit them.

  “Never mind,” she dismisses.

  I look at her with curiosity. I can’t understand her most of the time—she’s like a code I can’t decipher.

  “Get packing. We’re leaving after I gather some things,” I tell her.

  I leave her and go to my own room. I throw some clothes into a box to change up the wardrobe I’ve been wearing for two weeks, since I anticipate being at Marcus’ for a while.

  When I’m done, I stop by Jade’s room again. Her door’s ajar so I just go in. She’s not here.

  I retreat downstairs and she’s sitting next to Marcus, talking with him. Marcus looks up when I enter and stands to his feet. “You all set?” he asks.

  “Yup.”

  As we head out, Jade walks next to me and says, “I think I’m going to like staying with your boss.”

  I look at her, and she’s staring at Marcus as he puts our things into the trunk of his car. Her eyes gleam, looking wicked as though she’s setting her sights on a brilliant gem that she wants.

  Oh God, why do I have a bad feeling about this?

  Chapter 20 - Marcus

  ~* Marcus *~

  Jade and Laura are like night and day. From the way she dresses to her attitude—Jade is wild and reckless, immature, and cares only about herself. I don’t know what we’re in for, but I sure hope she doesn’t cause problems for Laura. I can sense Laura wants to be a big sister to her, but Jade doesn’t let her in. Maybe they can work things out while Jade is staying here.

  I got the call from George that the paperwork is done, so all I need to do is sign and pick up the check. I’ll then head over to the bank to cash it. I’ve hired a security escort because there’s no way I’m carrying five million in cash in public without protection.

  Laura wants to come with me, but I told her I need to do this e
xcursion alone. I’m not taking any chances in case something goes wrong. No way in hell will I put her in harm’s way. Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity for her to be alone with her sister so they can talk.

  Once I have the money, I wait to hear back from the kidnappers.

  Hang on, Angela, you’ll be home safe and sound soon.

  * * *

  “You got the money?” the kidnapper asks.

  “Yeah, I got it.” My tone is dry.

  “Good.” I can imagine he’s smiling, feeling smug, on the other end. “Now, you’re gonna follow my instructions.”

  “I want to speak to my sister first,” I demand.

  “I’ll let you talk to her after I give you the instructions. You got a paper and pen?”

  “Yeah, go ahead,” I say, but I’m taping this convo so I don’t need to write it down right now.

  “You’re to put one mill each into five large dark brown carry-on bags. At exactly 5:50 p.m., you’re to drive to the phone booth on 44th and Jones. When the phone rings, answer it, and you’ll get your next instructions. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Good. You follow exactly as I say, and when we get the money, you get your sister back.”

  “Will she be there for me to pickup when I make the drop-off?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think we’re stupid? If we gave her to you at the same time as the drop-off, we’d have no collateral anymore, and the Feds would be all over us. This ain’t the movies, kid.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “You don’t.”

  Fuck. They’ve got the upper-hand and I can’t do a damn thing to negotiate things any differently.

  “Let me talk to her.”

  There’s a pause and then muffled background chatter.

  “Marcus.” It’s Angela.

  “Are you okay?” I immediately ask.

  “I had a fever, but I’m okay now.”

  A fever? Damn it, they’d better be taking good care of her.

  “Are they treating you—”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” The kidnapper’s voice is back on the line.

  “5:50 on the dot.” He hangs up.

  I dial Agent Crowley’s direct line.

  “Agent Crowley,” he answers.

  “Agent Crowley, this is Marcus King. I just got the call and instructions for the drop-off.”

  “Okay, good.”

  I tell him what the kidnapper instructed.

  “Sir, Angela’s not going to be delivered at the same time.”

  “Yeah, it’s not usually done that way. They’ll release her after they’ve safely gotten the ransom. Sometimes it takes a day or more.”

  “Oh God, really?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Have you had cases where they didn’t release the hostage even after the ransom got paid?” I don’t know why I’m asking this, because I think I know the answer. But my worry is overwhelming me, and I want the answer to be what I want to hear, even if it’s wishful thinking. Still, I need to know, even if I’m afraid to hear the answer I’m dreading.

  He’s silent for a moment, which speaks volumes.

  “Yeah, unfortunately, there’s been a few, but normally they release the hostage.”

  So it’s a crapshoot then. Who knows if these kidnappers are in the wrong group—the ones who don’t release their hostages? Fuck!

  “Don’t give up hope, son,” he tells me when I’m silent. He must sense my torment. “We’re going to do our best to get your sister back to you.”

  “I know you will,” I finally say.

  “I’ll be in touch when we put our plan into place for the drop-off,” he says.

  “Okay, thank you.” I sure hope their plan works.

  After we hang up, I go downstairs to where Laura and her sister are in the kitchen. Until we can fill Jade in on what’s going on, I didn’t want to talk to the kidnappers and Agent Crowley in front of her.

  “Everything okay?” Laura asks as she makes sandwiches for our lunch.

  Jade sits in the kitchen nook, watching her sister, but the minute I join them, her attention’s on me.

  I smile at Laura and nod. I don’t want to worry her any more than she already is. She’s got her own troubles handling Jade.

  “Did you fill Jade in on what’s going down?” I ask.

  Laura glances at Jade. “Not yet.”

  She stops spreading the mayo on the slice she’s holding. “I wanted to wait for you, to make sure you don’t mind her knowing.”

  “Since she’s staying here, she’ll need to know.”

  Jade glances back and forth between Laura and I with curiosity. “What? . . . What should I know?” she asks.

  I sit down in the seat perpendicular to her. “My sister’s been kidnapped and we’re in the middle of trying to get her back,” I tell her.

  Her eyes bulge. “You’re shittin’ me?”

  “I wish I was, but unfortunately, it’s true.”

  “Fuuuuuck.” Jade sits upright in her chair, her attention is peaked. “How old is your sister?”

  “Twenty.”

  “Are you filthy rich?”

  “Jade, that’s not an appropriate question,” Laura scolds her.

  Jade huffs and slouches back down in her chair. “You know, Laura, I’m seventeen and not a child anymore. You don’t get to boss me around.”

  “Then act like it,” Laura replies.

  The two sisters are only four years apart, but Laura is far more mature than her years and Jade far less.

  Jade looks at me and scoffs. “This is what I get all the time from her. Ever since our mom left, she acts as though she’s in charge, like she’s the mother.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I had a mother, and she was a shitty one, I don’t need another one.”

  “I’m sure your sister’s just looking out for you,” I say. “Laura cares about your welfare.”

  Jade eyes me suspiciously. “Are you fucking my sister?”

  “Jade!” Laura shouts.

  “I’m afraid that’s none of your business,” I tell her gently.

  “You are.” Her eyes gleam as if she’s just uncovered a dirty secret. “I can tell.”

  She sits up in her seat again and puts one foot up on the chair so her knee is to her chest. She sways that knee side to side, spreading her legs so her short skirt opens to reveal her panties. I avert my eyes back up to her face. She eyes me up and grins wickedly.

  “A guy like you, I’d fuck.”

  “Jade, I’m not going to tell you again!” Laura is fuming now as she watches her sister try to seduce me.

  “And just what are you going to do, big sis?” Jade challenges.

  “Okay, now, let’s just settle down,” I intervene. “Jade, if you want to stay here, you’re going to have to make an effort to get along with your sister. Can you hold a truce for now?”

  She looks into my eyes. “For you? Sure.” Again, the naughty grin.

  Damn. This girl is going to be trouble. Unfortunately, we can’t send her back to her father. No, we’re going to have to put up with her for now.

  With all that’s going on with Angela’s kidnapping, I sure didn’t need another worry on my hands.

  Christ.

  Chapter 21 - Angela

  ~* Angela *~

  There’s one thing I’ve noticed that may mean they’ll eventually let me go . . . they don’t call each other by their names.

  That’s a good sign, right?

  Sigh. I guess I’m trying to find every reason to keep my hopes up. Not knowing what they have in store for me is unbearably frightening. Although, if they straight out told me they were going to kill me, yeah, that would be worse. But maybe I’d be more inclined to take a chance to escape because if they were going to kill me anyway, what would I have to lose? As it is, if they hadn’t planned to kill me, yet I
give them a reason to while trying to flee—that would be a bummer.

  Maybe this is why most people don’t put up a fight when in a hostage or victim situation—they don’t know if they’ll make matters worse if they fight back, thinking less harm would come to them if they’re passive, if they cooperate.

  I used to get upset when the victim in a movie wouldn’t fight back, but now that I’m in that situation in real life, it’s a whole nother story. When I was a spectator and not a participant, it was easy to make judgments and suppositions on what one should do, but as a real life victim in this crime—I’m finding it’s not so easy to be brave.

  Maybe if they’d just shoot me in the head, quick, painless, it wouldn’t be so bad, but the thought of being tortured, mutilated, suffering a slow and horrific death, is what chills me to the bone. This is my fear with these men.

  “Why are you calling me?” I hear the older kidnapper say. “I told you I wasn’t to be disturbed this entire week.”

  There’s a pause.

  “Jesus! What hospital?” His voice sounds frantic. “Yeah, okay, I’m on my way.”

  “Fuck!” I hear him yell.

  “What’s the matter?” the younger kidnapper asks.

  “My kid, he got into an accident. It sounds bad, man.”

  “What? . . . Fuck.”

  “I gotta go see him. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Yeah, go. I can handle things here.”

  “You should put her in the shed.”

  “Nah, she ain’t gonna run.”

  “You better be right.”

  “Her head’s messed up. She ain’t gonna run,” he repeats. “Now, get going, your son needs you.”

  I almost feel sorry for the older kidnapper having his son hurt, maybe even dying. Somehow, knowing he has a son he obviously loves and is so important to him that he’d leave a crucial kidnap for, makes him seem human, unlike when he talks to me, how he treats me, as a hostage.

  The young kidnapper comes into the room. I’m sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall with my legs stretched out in front of me.

  He comes over to me, sits on the side of the bed, and touches my forehead. “Your fever’s gone. You feeling all right?”