by Kay Bratt
“We tried. They won’t let us anywhere near the building,” Liam said.
“They will if you’re with me,” Joe said. He looked at Colby. “I’m thinking that Maggie needs your face to be the first one she sees when she comes out of there.”
Quinn could see Colby falter, unsure how to respond to Joe’s kindness.
“And she is coming out of there,” Joe said, reaching out, putting a hand on Colby’s shoulder, and squeezing it.
Colby’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and Quinn could tell he was swallowing back a lot of emotion. To get past the moment, she turned to Juniper. “What did they decide? About the keys?”
“They said they’re working on it,” she replied.
Colby pulled away from Joe and clutched his head again, running his fingers through his hair until he looked like a mad scientist. “Holy shit. I can’t believe this is happening. Why in the hell did she have to come here to this place?”
“Andrews would’ve tracked her down on the mainland too,” Quinn said. “This guy was relentless. Letting the wrong man out of prison was just his lucky break.”
“If she had just told me this has been happening,” Colby said. “I would’ve made it stop before it got this far. The bastard wouldn’t have been so lucky to even make it to prison.”
“And I would’ve made sure we had more safety precautions in place,” Joe said.
“Don’t feel too bad, guys. She didn’t even confide in her brothers,” Quinn said. “The only one who knew was her mom, and she was sworn to secrecy.”
Colby shook his head, his frustration all over his face. “That’s Maggie’s biggest problem. She thinks she can do everything by herself—that needing someone makes her weak, so she pushes away anyone who wants to help. It’s ridiculous, and it’s made our relationship harder than it needs to be.”
Quinn put a hand on Colby’s arm. “I agree. When this is over, both you and I are going to have to talk to her about it. But let’s just get through this first.”
“If you’re ready, we can walk back over there,” Joe said. “All of you.”
Colby’s phone rang, and he wrestled it from his pocket. Quinn didn’t even see him look to see who it was. He hit the button and shouted into the phone. Thankfully, it was on speaker and she could hear too.
“Hello?”
“Colby? It’s Maggie.”
All the energy seemed to drain out of Colby at once. He hit his knees, one hand covering his eyes as he began to talk, his voice broken by tears.
“Maggie? Oh my God, Maggie. Are you okay?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Just hearing Colby’s voice was like a salve to Maggie’s soul, but she had to be careful. Andrews was listening, just waiting for her to screw up. She struggled to clear her throat so she could make good use of what would probably be her only call to them.
“Maggie, can you hear me? Please tell me you’re okay!”
Her hands were shaking so violently that she could barely keep the phone to her ear. After she’d gone into hysterics, Andrews had calmed her by negotiating with her. Two minutes to talk to her son and she wouldn’t cry on him again. For a man drowning in his own madness, it seemed that seeing a woman cry was his kryptonite.
“Yes, but I’m only supposed to talk to Charlie,” she said carefully. “I have to hurry. Pass the phone.”
“Baby, please. Charlie’s asleep and safe, but he’s not here. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Has that creep hurt you? Talk to me, Mags. Talk to me.”
Maggie wanted to climb into the phone and out the other side, straight into Colby’s arms. His voice nearly made her melt with need.
She looked up and saw Andrews staring a hole through her. He was smart, and tricking him wouldn’t be easy. And if he thought she was even trying . . .
It was worth the risk. “Hi Charlie, it’s Mama,” she said, hoping that Colby would take the hint that for now, he was going to have to be Charlie.
“Maggie. Okay, I got you. Tell me what to do. I’m listening, baby.”
The desperation in his voice slayed Maggie. She couldn’t say anything that she really wanted to, and it was killing her.
“Charlie, I don’t want you to do anything. Listen, I’m going away for a while with a friend. And I might not be able to talk for a few weeks. But I—I . . .”
She looked at Andrews again.
“I love you. Okay? I really, really love you, and I’m sorry I haven’t said it enough. I’ve been so stupid.”
On the other end, Colby broke down into sobs. “Maggie, I love you too. I hear you, baby. You’re coming out of there. Don’t even think he’s taking you anywhere. I’ll kill him first, I swear to—”
Maggie hung the phone up. Colby was getting too loud, and she was afraid Andrews might hear him and know it wasn’t Charlie.
“Now, you feel better?” he asked. “And suck it up. You said you wouldn’t cry.”
She nodded through the rain of tears. She didn’t want to talk to him. She wanted Colby’s voice to stay in her head for as long as possible.
“They should be coming with that wine and the keys any minute,” Andrews said. “Once they scoot it in the door, I’m going to hold on to you again as you reach out and grab it.”
She didn’t reply.
“Maggie? You listening to me?” He sounded angry again.
“Yes, I’m listening, Martin.”
His voice calmed. “Pizza in this mess of a place wasn’t what I’d dreamed of for our reunion,” he said, “but at least we’ll have wine. Are there candles anywhere here? Doesn’t the island get storms?”
“No,” she lied. “We have a backup generator.”
She didn’t know if they had candles at the clinic or not, but there was no way she was going to sit down to candlelight and wine with him. Her acting skills only went so far, and if he tried to touch her again—
“When we get out of here, we’ll go off grid. I’ve been studying about it, and I know all the natural edibles out there just ripe for picking. We’ll camp near a natural spring and . . .”
He continued to talk and Maggie nodded occasionally, but she was thinking about Colby. She was glad now that he was on the island. Charlie was going to need him. Especially if—if . . .
She pushed that thought aside and went back to remembering Colby’s voice. She’d always teased him that he sounded so much more country than she did. The fact was, he never cared what people thought of his accent. That was something that she really liked about him. He was who he was and no apologies—just like walking onto the beach in jeans and boots.
And looking damn good doing it too.
“Why are you smiling?” Andrews said, sounding suspicious.
She wiped the small smile from her face, irritated because she’d forgotten for a moment where she was.
“I was just thinking of a place in Haiku that Quinn told me about. It’s wild there, even more so than Hana. It’s a great place to walk into the jungle and hide from everyone.”
“That sounds good,” Andrews agreed. “But what about the shuttle to Lanai? Don’t you think we should get off the island?”
“Lanai is too small. Nowhere to hide for us to finally be together.”
He seemed to like her input and nodded, then lowered his head like he was thinking again.
“We’re going to need transportation,” he said, looking up.
The phone rang, and they both jumped. Andrews instructed her to answer it. The detective quickly told her that there was a delay finding a pizza joint still open, but they were working on it, and they had calls out about the helicopter too.
The detective wanted to talk more, but Andrews jumped up and took the phone. “What the hell is taking so long?”
Maggie watched as the rage crossed his face. He shouted again. “I don’t give a shit about the pizza. Don’t call back until you have the keys to the closet or the helicopter!” he yelled, then slammed the phone back on its hook.
He took h
is seat on the floor again, and Maggie stayed silent. She wanted to give him time to calm down.
She went back to thinking about Colby. It made her feel better, remembering him in happier days. She recalled years before when he would take her in his truck, all the way out to the country after a big rain. They’d hit every mud spot there was and laugh and shriek as they went around winding curves, barely able to see because of the filth that covered the windshield. Sometimes on summer nights they took a blanket and a cooler of beer and lay in the bed of his truck, counting stars and planning their future.
They stopped doing that when Charlie was born.
Actually, they’d stopped doing a lot of things. Maggie now knew that she’d kind of lost herself for a while there. As much as she loved having her newborn son against her breast, feeling his heart beat against hers, somewhere deep inside she had wondered if she’d made the right decision to become a mother.
She hadn’t considered that maybe Colby felt the same, that fatherhood scared him. The pregnancy was a surprise to both of them, and neither of them brought up the possibility of not going through with it. But Colby worried about everything they would need to raise a child, constantly doing the math against their combined financial responsibilities to see where they could squeeze out a few more dollars.
Maggie quietly watched him give up spending money on his hobbies. He never complained, but she thought he should have been more upset about it. His whole life had changed, and she resented it for him.
Now it grieved her to think that she’d turned that resentment against him.
She recalled now that Colby never once said he didn’t want to be a father. Before she’d told him to leave, he’d gotten up with her every time she fed Charlie in the night. He said he’d bottle-feed but, though Maggie’s breasts were swollen and painful, she wanted her son to have the healthiest start possible.
Colby didn’t let her be sleepy alone. He was always there.
She felt like such a stupid fool.
“What are you thinking about?” Andrews said, breaking her out of her memories and self-contempt.
“My son,” Maggie answered, wary of giving too much detail.
“What’s it like?”
“Having a son?”
He nodded.
“It’s the scariest but most wonderful thing in the world,” she said softly. “It’s so incredibly hard, but then there are these most amazingly rewarding moments of pure love that slip through just often enough to keep you going through the difficult times. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I made it harder, didn’t I?” he asked.
It was quiet between them. No sirens. No phone ringing. Just a man and a woman having a moment of truth.
She turned and looked him in the eye. “Yes, Martin. You did. He was really upset about what you did to those flowers. That was one thing I couldn’t hide from him.”
He took it in, hesitating before he spoke again. “I bet you think I had a horrible childhood and it messed me up. Like you hear of those serial killers who were abused and later took their frustration out by murdering people.”
“Well, your dad sounds like a real piece of work,” Maggie said, forgetting that she was supposed to be minding her words.
Surprisingly, Andrews laughed. “You could say that. He wasn’t one for animals, and I guess I inherited that from him. I just can’t understand these people who are obsessed with dogs, putting clothes on them and carrying them around in purses. I think they’re the mentally ill ones.”
Maggie smiled. “They just want something to love.”
“So did I,” he said softly.
She wasn’t sure how to answer that one. She couldn’t very well sympathize with his obsession for her. She wasn’t a stray dog that he could just claim as his. Why did some men think that once they chose you, they possessed you?
“But just for the record, I had a great childhood,” he said. “I have a brother, and we were best friends. He was the good-looking one, though I was a year older. He was my wingman in high school. If it wasn’t for him, I’d never have had a date.”
“I’ve got a few brothers myself,” Maggie said. Remembering them made her think of her mother, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. She hoped her mom knew how much she loved her.
“I know. I checked out each of them, making sure you weren’t there before I figured out you were in Maui.”
“Was it the picture online? At the inn with Quinn?” she asked, curious to at least know that.
“No. It was your banking. You shouldn’t use your debit card. It was easy to hack in and follow you with each transaction.”
“I thought you didn’t have access to computers in prison?”
“I didn’t, until I offered to do the warden’s tax returns and I saved him a bundle over what he paid last year. Wardens are people too. We all like to save a buck.”
He said it like it was funny, but Maggie didn’t see the humor. If she made it out alive, she was going to let that warden know what a piece he was. So much for victims’ rights.
“I’m not the average dumb criminal, Maggie. I graduated magna cum laude, you know.”
“Good for you,” Maggie said. Too bad he had done nothing with that distinction of honor, except managing taxes for a prison warden. It always amazed her how many idiots in the world held college degrees.
“I had an accounting business once too. It was even profitable. But my brother, he was my partner, and I found out later that he was doctoring the numbers. We had one good year, and then we were in debt up to our eyeballs. He screwed over a lot of our investors too. Family. Friends. Our name was mud.”
“Great wingman,” Maggie said. She couldn’t even imagine one of her brothers doing something like that to her.
“He’s dead now. Couldn’t take the humiliation of being bankrupt. He had a pretty little wife and 2.5 kids. Nice house in the suburbs and two new cars. He didn’t want to just keep up with the Joneses, he wanted to be the Joneses. Instead of facing his downfall like I did, he ate a bullet.”
Maggie stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She meant it too. No one deserved to lose someone they loved that way. Not Andrews, but especially not the man’s wife and two children, who were innocent and now had to live with that shadow of loss over them.
He shrugged. “Turns out he might have been better looking, but I was the stronger of us both. He was a coward in the end.”
“To some people, pride is everything,” Maggie said, nearly choking on the words because she was having an epiphany about herself and the mess she’d made of her life. She’d thought she could outsmart Andrews without bringing anyone else into it. Poor Charlie lived day to day without a father because of her damn pride too.
“But I miss him,” Andrews said, still talking about his brother. He dropped his head down to stare at the floor between his knees, choosing not to look at her to finish the story. “My parents were devastated. They thought I could’ve stopped it from happening. We never spoke again after the funeral. As a matter of fact, I feel like I was ostracized from every relative I know.”
“I’m sorry, Martin.” Maggie couldn’t imagine how alone that would feel. Her big family was her safety net—or at least they were until she decided to shut them out of her problems, therefore her life.
She’d been such a fool.
He looked up. “You’re really not at all like I thought you were.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie asked.
“I thought you were going to give me much more of a fight. You’re not really living up to that fiery hair.”
“I’m not much for fighting these days, Martin. After all the running I’ve done lately, I guess I’m just tired. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Look, I’m not an idiot. I know I’m not getting out of here with you. But it was fun pretending for a little while.”
He looked sad. And weary.
It was time for the truth.
“You�
��re right, Martin. They’ll never let us go.”
“I’m not delusional either. There is no us. And they’ll shoot me if I walk out there.” He pulled the scalpel from his pocket and ran his finger along it. A line of blood popped up.
“Maybe not,” Maggie said.
He made another stripe down another finger, as though testing to see if the blade would work twice.
“Don’t do it, Martin.”
“Do what?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Don’t be your brother. You’re better than that. Be a man and face the music. What you’ve done is a crime, and you’re going to have to pay for it. You said it yourself—only cowards take the easy way out.”
He struggled to stand, and when he was up, he smiled down at Maggie.
She looked at him from her place on the floor, still sitting against the wall. “What are you doing?”
He took a step toward her.
Then another until he was hovering over her. “Not what you expect,” he growled.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maggie stared up at the hand that Andrews offered her. It was pasty white and, for a man’s hand, not that big. It looked pathetic. But what really stood out was that it was steady.
So damn steady.
She recalled how hers had shaken when she’d worked with the syringes. But not his. His was solid. If he were giving up, going back to jail, truly thought this was the end, wouldn’t he seem more . . . afraid? Angry? Something?
“Here, let me help you up,” he said, stretching his hand farther. Eagerly.
Something didn’t feel right.
He’d seemed coherent in these past few moments, but just a short time ago he’d been completely deranged and suffering withdrawal symptoms.
Was his sudden calmness an act? And what if he snapped again at her touch? Or if armed police officers came pounding in? Anything could set him off because he was unpredictable.
He reached down a little farther, his eyes challenging her to grab hold.
Trusting Andrews was a gamble.
Another flurry of thoughts went through Maggie’s head in a matter of seconds. First she remembered Woodrow and his expression of pain. Then Charlie’s sweet smile that looked so much like his dad’s, always making her heart shift and flutter. Her little piece of Colby that she clung to desperately. She imagined Charlie in their bed, his head on her pillow, innocent in his sleep, sometimes even laughing out loud in a dream world that only knew good things.