by J. M. Witt
Slamming the door shut, I grunted, “Thanks.” Walking right to the fridge, I grabbed a beer and downed almost the entire thing in one long gulp.
“Is there any news?” I just shook my head. “O, I don’t understand. What’s going on, she’s pregnant?”
It set me off. “Fucking Heath and Lucy! They can’t keep their mouths shut about anything.”
“They’re just trying to help.”
Pulling a second beer out, I offered one to Will and he passed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I found a positive pregnancy test this morning and Lucy claims it’s not hers. Des wouldn’t confirm it, but I said something stupid when I thought she might be.” Dropping myself to the couch, I lowered my head back and closed my eyes. “She knew that he escaped. She’s up to something and I have to stop her. She’s going to get herself killed.”
“Have you talked to the police?”
Nodding, “Yes. That’s where I just came from. They put out an APB for her, but they can’t report her missing for twenty-four hours.” He started to object, “Yes, even knowing Saul’s out there. Believe me, I lost my shit.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to help.”
“Having you here helps. I appreciate it, man.”
We watched ESPN for a couple of hours before I decided to crash. I tossed and turned that night clutching her pillow. I finally gave up on sleep as the sun rose and headed down to the gym. One of the perks of being an employee, and it being a holiday, was that the gym was empty. It was too early for most of the regulars anyway.
The next few days came and went with the same course of events. I’d call her, leave voicemail, text her, call and drive by her work, as well as visit the police station. All I got in return was nada. I was beginning to think the cops were in on it all. The cops had to know something, right? She couldn’t have just vanished into thin air. Her work told me that she’d taken a leave of absence, but that was all they could tell me. With each day that passed I grew more and more scared for her and what Saul would do to her if he found her. But I couldn’t let my mind wander down that path.
That Friday I was sitting at home, already six beers into the case I bought. Drinking heavily wasn’t my typical course of action, but my fear for her was turning into anger that was starting to boil over. Will walked in that night with Dorian, D, and Heath with him. They all just nodded at me and began the ritual of setting up to play poker. It’d been a long time since all five of us had played together.
D and Dorian set up the poker table, Will ordered pizza and Heath loaded the fridge with more beer. They were all sitting around the table waiting for me. Glaring at them, I pulled myself up and plopped down in the empty chair. Everyone had their cash on the table, turned it in for chips and I did the same. Dorian then dealt and the game began.
I was drunk, or at least getting there. We’d ordered three large pizzas and they were gone along, with my case of beer, and we’d put a pretty big dent into a second case. Pretty sure I was down sixty bucks and I was hurting for chips. I just wasn’t in the right mindset and gave no fucks about winning. My phone started ringing and I pulled it out of my pocket, curious to who’d be calling.
When I saw her name flash across the screen, adrenaline pumped through me, sobriety trying to take hold of me. I dropped the phone on the table trying to get it to answer, which got the attention of my brothers. Frantically, I put it to my ear.
“Des? Are you there?” She wasn’t speaking and I was worried this was some horrible joke. “Baby, please talk to me. Are you safe? I’m losing my mind.”
“I’m safe. Please know how much I love you.”
If you love me, why’d you leave? But I couldn’t ask her that, not now. “Des, please come home. I don’t know what’s going through that mind of yours, but I’m begging you…”
“I can’t. Not until he’s gone. I love you, Odysseus. Please forgive me.”
“Des? Des!” I checked the screen to see the call had ended. Chucking it across the room, I roared, “GOD DAMMIT!” and watched my only source of communication with her shatter on the floor. “FUCK!”
My brothers just sat and waited. We’d all been pissed off beyond reproach before and we all knew that I just needed a few minutes to cool down. They began talking quietly amongst themselves as I staggered to the fridge. I needed something more potent and found her bottle of fireball in the freezer. Yanking it out, I removed the lid and chugged.
Sitting back down at the table I began rambling, “I love you O, please forgive me O…what the fuck is wrong with that woman?”
Will asked, “Did she say anything else?”
I sat and recounted our brief exchange. “She said something about not coming home until he was gone. Dammit. The cops have to be in on this. I just know it. They’re fucking using her as bait and she’s letting them.”
“That’s just not right. Not with her…” I glared at Heath and he shut up.
Dorian, always way too intuitive, “Not with her what?”
“Not with her history with him. She’s too fragile.” Heath recovered quickly and Dorian seemed to buy it.
“Listen. I have a client who’s a PI. I can call him and see if he can find anything out.” I looked at Dorian, not sure what to say. “O, it’s no problem. He has some connections at the station and may be able to help us out. At least give you some peace of mind if the cops are using her as bait or not.”
I just nodded my head and took another swig of the cinnamon whiskey before passing it around the table. They all took their turns with the bottle, D having the worst reaction.
“What the fuck? That shit is nasty.” We all chuckled.
Turning the music up, my thoughts wandered as Angel by Theory Of A Deadman played. The bottle hung in my hands as the words cut me like a knife. I was a soldier, trained to serve and protect, but she didn’t want me to do that for her. It’s as if she was determined to save herself. I admired that in her, but sometimes we all needed someone, no matter the possible consequences we might face.
Des was part of me, always would be, but maybe she had one thing right. I couldn’t save her. She had to save herself. And that involved more than physical danger. It involved her spirit, her soul, and her mind. Nobody could free those if she didn’t want them to be free. She was her own prisoner in a cell of her own making and nobody would be able to help her escape except herself.
I took another swig to find the bottle empty. Fuck. I set it on the table as my vision blurred. Then I tried speaking and found I couldn’t form words like I should’ve been able to. Soon I was aware of two bodies flanking me and dragging me out to the balcony. The cool night air assaulted me and I hurled over the deck. I was known for holding my liquor, but every man had his limits.
Shortly after, I was being placed in bed as Heath—or maybe it was Will—told me to get some rest. I was way too drunk to give a shit which one it was, and to be honest, I couldn’t tell in this condition.
I woke in the morning to Heath next to me and shoved his ass out of the bed. He hit the floor with a thud and jumped to his feet, fists in the air.
“What the fuck?” His eyes focused on mine as I laughed.
“I don’t need you keeping me warm, fucker.”
Shaking his head, “I wasn’t keeping you warm, asshole. I was making sure you didn’t drink yourself into a fucking coma.” He walked to the bathroom and reminded me, “Besides, it’s my fucking bed, not yours.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The pounding in my head took over as I closed my eyes.
“Here.” Opening one eye, I saw Heath holding out a glass of water and a bottle of pills. “Take it. Might help. Though you deserve every minute of that hangover.” He walked out of the room and left me to my misery.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the fight of a lifetime. I wasn’t going to give up on her. Dorian said he had a client who could help. After I showered, I headed to the kitchen to find Dorian still there. Apparently everyone stayed over and I wasn’t the only on
e nursing a hangover.
Dorian had his sunglasses on and was drinking a cup of coffee. Joining him, we talked about his client. He called him and set up an appointment for later that day. Hitching a ride with him, our first stop was the cell phone store. I needed a new phone immediately.
Operation ‘Find Des’ was underway, again.
~ Desiree ~
~ Chapter 21 ~
The next day I couldn’t get what Detective Rollins had said out of my head. They suspected that Saul was the one who bought my place. That had to be where he was hiding, maybe. Was he that stupid or did he just not anticipate them finding that out? There was no way the cops would let me walk in there without backup and I knew there was no way Saul would confront me if I had backup. I had to try to get away on my own, but how?
My security detail made it exceptionally easier for me than I anticipated. I found him asleep on the couch and went back to my room. Arranging the pillows under the covers, I walked right out the front door without waking him. I’m sure it helped that he had the TV on as loud as he did.
I had ample protection, at least that’s what I told myself, my gun and knife both in my purse. When I pulled up to my old building a chill ran over me, like I could sense he was close. I tucked the knife in my boot and left the gun in my purse. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the building under the darkness of night.
I still had my key and it didn’t appear like the locks had been changed, so I tried the key. It worked. Walking in, nothing had changed. It was like I’d never left, like a shrine. Oh, God. What if I was wrong and I was walking into my old place and found a little old lady living here? This was a mistake. I had to go. As I turned back toward the door, he was there.
Immediately, I backed away and reached for my gun, but he already had one pointed at me. “You’re brave. Stupid, but brave.” He sneered at me as my stomach revolted.
“I could say the same about you.”
Waving the gun toward the couch, he ordered, “Sit down.”
“You sit down.” He didn’t want me dead, not yet anyway.
“Where’s the gun? Your purse or behind your back?”
“I don’t have a gun, Saul. You know I hate them.”
Walking closer he circled around to my side as his eyes traveled my body. “Something’s different. What is it?”
“Nothing’s different. You can’t be here. The cops suspect that you bought the place, they’ll be here soon.”
Shrugging his shoulders, “Perfect, that means I can use you as my shield. I mean, you’re the reason I’m in this mess to begin with.” Trailing his finger down my cheek he whispered, “So many lies, Des. And for what? Because you feel sympathy for that cripple?”
“Don’t you call him that! He’s more of a man than you could ever hope to be.” I expected the smack that came, but not the yanking on my hair that followed.
“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done.”
“Not if you pay first.”
Before I could really fight back, everything went black.
I woke on the living room floor, to his hands attempting to move me. There was no way he was going to lay another hand on me without me fighting back. The struggle began again as I reached into my purse. He was still trying to get control of me when I pulled it out, but he spotted it too soon. We began to grapple and he managed to knock the gun from my hand as we hit the floor.
I tried to scurry after it, not entirely sure where it’d gone, when I felt his body on top of mine. Kicking out at him, I made contact with his chest and crawled away from him.
“You stupid bitch. You’re going to pay and so is your cripple.”
I spotted my gun just before he started dragging me toward the bedroom. Glancing up, his eyes were focused on the bedroom and I didn’t see his own gun, so I reached for the knife in my boot, my scalp on fire from where he gripped my hair. Flipping the switchblade open, I lunged toward him and pierced the back of his thigh before pulling it out and slashing at his hand.
Saul screamed out and released me as he reached for the wound now spurting blood from his leg. With him momentarily distracted, I scrambled for my gun and almost had it when searing pain ripped through my left leg. I had to keep moving forward. Finally my fingers circled the gun just as he flipped me over. Sitting astride me, his hands reached for my neck as I kept my hand out of his line of sight.
“I’m going to enjoy the look on his face when he realizes you’re dead.”
Gasping, I choked out, “Not if I don’t enjoy the look on his face when he finds out you’re dead first!”
I wasn’t leaving this apartment until he was dead, knowing I might be dead along with him. Pulling my hand out from under the chair, I aimed and pulled the trigger. He leapt back and I had no idea where I’d hit him or how badly. With the gun still in my hand, he reached into his pocket as he backed up toward the bedroom. The second I saw the silver barrel emerging from his pocket, I fired again. This time I saw the blood pour out of his chest.
He looked down at the wound and continued to stumble backward and into the bedroom. Pulling his gun out, he aimed, but not at me. I followed his line of sight and saw a red gallon jug sitting by the front door. It was gasoline and it wasn’t till then that the smell infiltrated my nostrils.
“Bye bye, Des.”
“Saul, NO!”
We both fired at the same time. Me at him and him at the explosive. I was thrown against the wall from the force of the blast, and watched him stumble back out of sight. Making my way toward the bedroom, limping, and away from the flames now consuming the living room, I found him sitting on the edge of the bed. Blood dripped from his mouth and his shirt was saturated with it. The gun was in his hand and I aimed mine at him once more.
“Drop it, Saul.”
“You’ll always be my Buttercup…” An attempt at a chuckle escaped his lips as he saw me cringe.
He lifted his arm and I shot him again, this time in the head. Point blank range. His body fell onto the bed and I just stood there, shock taking hold of me. Moving to lean against the bedroom wall, the pain in my leg reverberated through me. I had to focus.
I could see the morning rays peering through the windows. After he knocked me out I must’ve been out for a while. Looking back toward the living room, there was no way out; I was doomed. The flames already spreading. But, Saul was dead. Finally, I’d done what no one else could. I’d wiped his despicable soul from existence.
I stood there watching as the flames crept up the walls just outside the bedroom, his motionless body would soon be nothing but ashes and mine along with his. Closing the bedroom door, I hoped it’d give me some time, though I wasn’t sure what time I needed. Sliding down, I sat on the floor, resolved to the fact that I was going to die along with the baby in my belly. O would never know, but at least he would be safe. Body, heart, and soul; my willing sacrifice for him. He was young and he’d find love again.
I sat there listening to the fire take control of my surroundings. The sobs tore through me and then the smoke started getting to me. My lungs burned as I held my shirt over my mouth trying to catch my breath. I wanted to call O, but my purse was in the living room, along with my phone.
“DES!”
Now I was losing it, the lack of oxygen warping my senses. I heard the snapping and crashing of wood hitting the floor outside the bedroom.
“DES!”
O? Panicked, I crawled closer to the bedroom door. “O?”
“Des! We have to get you out.”
“What are you doing here? Get out, O!” The door flew off the hinges and there he was, my knight in shining armor, my soldier, smoke billowing around him. The only thing separating us were more flames. The fire had already spread and the doorway was engulfed. “O, get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving you.” He glanced at the bed and back to me. “You have to jump!”
I was still on the floor, shaking my head. I had to get him out of here. “I can’t.” I was pretty
sure my leg was broken. Before I could gather the strength to try, he backed up and jumped into the room. “O!”
He pulled me to my feet and realized I was favoring my left leg. “You’re hurt.”
“Leave me O. You have to get out.”
“I’m not leaving you,” his hand came down to rest on my belly, “either of you. We’re in this together, till the end.”
He knew? “You know?”
“Lucy told me. Des, we have to get out of here. Do you trust me?”
I was sobbing and clinging to him, “Of course I trust you.”
He ran into the bathroom and emerged a few moments later with wet towels. “Wrap this around your mouth. We have to go out the way we came.” He helped me tie the towel and then asked, “Can you walk?”
“I’ll try.”
“We’re getting out of here, baby.” He kissed me chastely and then he jumped back through the frame where the door no longer hung. Reaching his hand to me, “Come on, Des. I got you.”
Snubbing the pain, I jumped through the door and took in what used to be my apartment; unrecognizable from the smoke and flames that were consuming it. A horrible creak sounded from above us. His body covered mine as I looked up and saw the beam split in two, falling on top of us. As I moved out from under his body, I realized he was unconscious with the beam pinning him to the floor.
“O!” No, no, no…this is what I was trying to avoid.
“Is there anyone in here?”
“Over here!”
Within seconds, a fireman was pulling me from the room as I screamed for O. “You have to get him out! He’s my husband!” A second fireman appeared and I was handed over to him like a ragdoll while the other one went back in for O.
I tried fighting the paramedics, refusing treatment until they forced an oxygen mask over my face. “You have to take this. Don’t make us restrain you.”
Didn’t they understand? My husband was still inside, the father of my unborn child, and there was no sign of him or the fireman. Windows shattered and flames burst into the sky. Then I saw him; the fireman emerged from the flames and had a body over his shoulder. I wasn’t even sure if it was the same fireman, but I recognized the body. It was Saul.