unStrapped

by Nina G. Jones

  “We’ll light the candles and turn on the twinkling white string lights, so when you walk down the aisle at sunset, everything will glow like a winter wonderland. There is a very low chance of flurries this evening in the forecast today. So worst case scenario, you have glowing snowflakes falling on the two of you.”

  “Jill, this is unreal. Like a story book.”

  “This might be one of the most beautiful weddings on the planet,” Kristin says. “Jill, you nailed the aisle.”

  “Thank you,” Jill says proudly, with her nose slightly pointed in the air. “Now on to the reception!”

  We follow one of the bridges that leads to the barn and walk down the steps to a wooden platform, flush to the ground, to which all the snow-bridges appear to lead. This massive platform in front of the barn leads to its interior. “Ready?” Jills asks with her hand on the barn door.

  “Yes!” Lizzy and Kristin squeal.

  Jill huffs as she pulls the door open: “We can keep these open throughout the reception. Heat lamps abound.”

  Our little gaggle gasps. Just weeks ago this was an old, neglected barn. Today, it is immaculate, glowing, with tall rafters. Chandeliers in the shape of silver tree branches, adorned with hundreds of crystals, float in the air. Long, wooden farm tables, covered in white tablecloths, are topped with massive centerpieces: crystal cylinder vases towering with white cherry blossoms, the occasional pink blossom peeking through for color. Thousands of crystals hang from the rafters in varying lengths.

  “Shyla, at night when we turn on the chandeliers, all of these crystals will flicker and reflect the light. It will be like a dream. Seriously, you will feel like you are in a vision. The gold light will cast a hue on all the white table cloths so they will take on the rustic, antique feel and look you wanted. I know you had such a hard time narrowing a color, and I thought, screw color! Let’s use light! Light will be your wedding color. It will be like having the night sky indoors, all the crystal will twinkle like stars!”

  This chatter mouth is worth every fucking dollar.

  I never dreamt of a wedding as a little girl. My relationship with Taylor never felt like a fairytale, at least not in the Cinderella sense. We have a messy, dirty, filthy love. A painful love. A destructive love.

  And yet, we will be married under the low winter sun, and dancing and smiling under the light of thousands of twinkling crystals. I realize this is a fairytale, my fairytale: the twisted little damsel and her dark prince. We have our own brand of love, and there is nothing wrong with that.

  Unfortunately, every fairytale has an evil villain lurking in the shadows, waiting to destroy the lovers.

  My cell phone rings, snapping me out of the moment, and that’s when I realize that everyone, including Jill, has tears streaking their cheeks.

  Henry?

  “Hey,” I say, my voice a mix of enthusiasm and confusion. He should be with Taylor, why is he calling me?

  “Hey,” he sounds stressed. Henry never sounds stressed.

  “What is it?” I ask, pulling away from the group as Jill blabbers on to my friends.

  “Fuck. I don’t know what I should do. He said not to tell you, but if I don’t and shit gets messed up, you’ll kill me.”

  “What is it?” I ask firmly, though my voice trembles.

  “I got here about two hours ago, and everything was fine. We were planning to grab brunch and work out before getting ready. Taylor went into the office, comes out about five minutes later, and just walks out, says he needs to take care of something. Says he’ll be back but he can’t say when, aaaaand he said not to tell you. That was and hour and a half ago. He won’t pick up his phone. Shit. I shouldn’t have told you this. I am sure he’ll be back. Taylor never misses an appointment. It’s just…something felt off.”

  “He didn’t give you any indication?”

  “No. And frankly he’s had a stick up his ass all week.”

  “I am coming over. Don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll be there in five.”

  I take a deep breath and try to act as calm as possible when I approach the group. “Some of Taylor’s family is having some travel issues. I need to go over to his place and sort some stuff out.”

  “Is there anything we can do?” Kristin asks.

  “My mom should be here within the hour. Can you just help her settle in? I’ll be back soon.”

  Then I jog out of the barn, and when I am out of sight, I sprint.

  Chapter 38

  I pull up to the front of Taylor’s house. Harrison’s house lights are off, which means he and Taylor are likely together and Henry is the only person here. Taylor won’t answer my calls either. Something is terribly wrong. Something happened in that office that made him feel like he had to disappear on our wedding day. He told Henry he would be back. He wouldn’t say that unless he meant it.

  The front door is unlocked, and as I push the door open, I feel coldness. Whatever Taylor is up to is not good. The foyer is empty, and I call out for Henry, but there is no response. I quietly close the door behind me, wondering where he could have gone.

  “Hello?”

  No answer.

  “Henry? Where are you? I’m here.”

  I peek my head into the office, but there are no signs of life except for a lone table lamp left on.

  “What’s going on?” Henry asks as I jump up.

  “Jesus Henry, what the fuck!”

  “Sorry, I had to get my phone charger from my car in the garage. So do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck.”

  We stand face to face for a few seconds of silence. The house feels like a prison suddenly. Henry was the last person to see Taylor, Taylor is gone, and now he has drawn me into a house alone with him. No one can be trusted.

  He can’t be the one.

  At first my instinct is to make an excuse to leave the house, but my only chance of finding Taylor is by logging into his computer. I have to take the risk.

  “Can you give me a second?” I ask.

  “Of course. I’ll be in the living room if you need me. Seriously, if something is wrong, I am here to help. No matter what it is, okay?”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  As soon as Henry leaves, I scurry to Taylor’s desk and log into his computer. He never changed his password from my days as his assistant.

  His email inbox is still logged in, several attachments still open on this screen, as if he left in a hurry.

  The most recent read email is from Harrison:

  As you requested, I have files on the technicians who installed the new security system into the house. They both underwent background checks, I ran a second round and nothing suspicious showed up.

  There are two pictures. Once is of a guy name Kendrick Williams, completely unfamiliar to me.

  The other picture makes me jump back in my seat. The name: Robert Richard Matthews. It has a familiar ring to it, bit I can’t quite place it.

  The face though, is singed in my mind, a face I will never forget. Though his beard and head is shaved down, he could never hide from me. The name becomes clear to me as my memories of it come to the forefront; I have known the name for years, but never used it. We called him Big Bob or Bob. He hadn’t gone by Robert since the day he was born.

  I stare at the picture as it dissolves into a blur. Rick’s face stares back at me from the computer screen. He used his dead dad’s identity. Of course. Of course it was Rick.

  Then it all becomes clear to me. Taylor saw an email he had been waiting for from Harrison, opened the images and instantly recognized Rick. Rick was in our home. He just waltzed right in, acting as part of the company who was supposed to help us keep the danger out. Rick didn’t say no to Eric’s proposal. He was an accomplice. His call to me was a last-ditch effort to set Taylor up, and get me back, while appearing to be an innocent bystander. After all, if he was guilty, why would he divulge any of it? He was just honest enough for me to think he had not
hing to do with Eric.

  Where Taylor has gone becomes as clear to me as the untouched snow at the farmhouse: he is going to find Rick and make him disappear before our wedding.

  ***

  Minutes pass as I wait for the initial shock to dissolve.

  Today is my wedding day.

  I just found out that my ex live-in boyfriend teamed up with my dead future brother-in-law to plan my revenge rape and then tried to set up my sociopathic fiancé for the entire thing.

  Today is my wedding day.

  My fiancé is missing hours before the wedding with his most trusted security-fixer-butler likely preparing to murder my ex-boyfriend who used his dead father’s identity to get a job installing a new security system into our house so that he could plant the lipstick-stained mask of my rapist in the house.

  Today is my wedding day and I have to stop my fiancé from killing yet another human being.

  I would be deliriously laughing if this wasn’t so fucking time-sensitive. One thing I can be thankful for is I am so past a nervous breakdown. I am glad I got that out of the way after the first—correction—second killing Taylor committed.

  Okay Shyla, this is not your first rodeo. Get your shit together. The GPS!

  I frantically log into the GPS-tracking software that only Taylor, Harrison, and I have access to.

  I should have known Taylor was too smart for that. All the GPS trackers show that they are on the premises. He likely pulled the system off the car and left it somewhere on the property.

  I am back to square one.

  “Everything okay in there?” Henry calls out.

  “Uh, yes. Gimme a few more minutes.” I run over to the office door, close it, and lock it. “Shitshitshit,” I say to myself.

  My phone rings. I rip it out of my pocket, praying it’s Taylor. It’s my mom.

  “Hi mom.”

  “Hi, the girls told me Taylor’s family was having travel issues.”

  “Yup, working on that now,” I say. “I might be here a while though. I’ll let you know when I am on my way back.”

  “Don’t get caught up in all this, you need to be relaxed. It’s your day. Let someone else take care of that stuff. That’s what we’re here for.”

  “Rather not. You know that side of the family is weird. I really have to go, I’ll be back in time for hair and nails. Bye, mom.”

  “Okay…I am going to look at the barn now.”

  “It’s gorgeous. Talk to you soon.” Fucking moms and their inability to hang up at the first good bye.

  “See you soon.”

  “Love you, bye.” I end the call before we get caught in a “goodbye” vortex.

  I rake my fingers through my hair, kneading at my scalp while sweating profusely. When I see Taylor, I am going to kill him. There is going to be a whole lot of death today.

  My only hope is Harrison. He knows what is going on. He knows our crimes, he is part of them. And maybe, despite his allegiance to Taylor, I can convince him to tell me what is going on.

  I call him.

  Straight to voicemail. Fuckfuckfuck.

  Then I remember that I have an alternate phone number for Harrison. It was something Taylor stored on my phone after the incident with Eric. I was told only to use it in a similar emergency and I almost forgot he had even put it in there. I think its Harrison’s burner phone.

  I call the number.

  No answer.

  I call him again. And again. And again.

  Still no answer.

  Then I do the only thing I know will get his response. A text:

  Shyla:

  Help. Pls. They’ve got me.

  My hope is the cryptic text will make him think I am in danger.

  In less than a minute, my phone is ringing.

  “Shyla?”

  “Harrison.”

  “Are you okay?” He asks, far more emotive than ever before.

  “No. Where are you? What are you and Taylor doing?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. Are you in trouble?”

  “No, but I know you both are going to get Rick.” Silence. “Dammit Harrison!” I yell. “Tell me what you are about to do. Or have you done it already? I am not a fucking fool!”

  Silence.

  “Okay, okay. I understand. Taylor has taken very good care of you and your family. You are loyal. You follow his requests. You stay silent. But I will be his wife dammit! I love him. You know what I have seen, what I have been through. I would have died for him in that field. I have his best interests in mind.”

  My voice quavers with rage and desperation.

  “I don’t want him to go down this path, it’s happening easier each time. Don’t you see it? If you care about him, and I mean as more than just one big money bag you need to protect, you will tell me where he is. I have a right to know. This is all because of me.”

  Silence. Silence so tense I want to claw at my own face.

  “I can’t betray his trust.”

  “You are betraying more than his trust if you don’t tell me.”

  “I’m sorry.” And then he hangs up.

  “Gaaaaah!” I scream into my sweater sleeve so that Henry doesn’t hear. My knees buckle as I slide to the floor. My breathing becomes labored as each breath becomes shallower. Oh no. Not now.

  I take slow breaths, hoping this won’t grow into a full blown panic attack.

  Then my phone rings again. It’s Harrison.

  “Hello?”

  “Third right drawer in Taylor’s desk.” He hangs up.

  I run over, following a vibrating sound. The third drawer is locked. FUCK.

  I grab a letter opener and pry that thing open like the hulk. Neatly stacked papers layer this shallow drawer, but the vibrations become stronger. There is a fake bottom. The vibration stops, but I use the letter opener to prop it open. There are three flip phones, like the one he used in the field. Two are on, one is dead. I open one. Nothing. The other says: You have a text!

  I open the text, and find exact coordinates with the command:

  USE GPS IN SUV GLOVE COMPARTMENT, CARRY IT WITH YOU AND DELETE THIS MESSAGE.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief filled with immense gratitude for the risk Harrison is taking for me. For Taylor.

  ***

  “Henry, you have to do me a huge fucking favor.”

  “Of course, but you’re freaking me out right now.”

  “Everything is fine. But I have to go talk to Taylor. I don’t want my mom or the girls freaking out about me being late. If they call, tell them I am busy with Taylor. You just have to find a way to stall. But under no circumstances can you tell them you don’t know where we are.”

  “Being the best man in this wedding fucking sucks!”

  “I know. Not even Lizzy. No one. You can handle this. They will literally go into a frenzy, but you are a charming s-o-b. We are counting on you.”

  “Okay, okay. Go so you can get your asses back here!”

  “Thank you.” I grab his face and plant a huge smooch before heading out.

  “Shyla!”

  “Yes?”

  “Everything is really okay, right? I can help if it’s really serious. I know Taylor can get dark…”

  “Thank you. You are a good friend. But I need to be with him privately.”

  “Okay, go. I’ve got you covered. Not a word,” he says, zipping his lips.

  I run out of the house, making sure to use the designated GPS to plug in the coordinates. The address is familiar, and I am almost certain it’s by the field where I watched Taylor kill Eric. How fucking symbolic. I resist the urge to drive 100 mph because I cannot be pulled over. I have learned these things from Taylor. No one can place me out here.

  There are eight hours left until the wedding. Eight measly hours. My hair and nail person will be staying for the entire duration of the wedding, but I will definitely be late for her arrival. And I know that’s when everyone will start to freak.

  I time my
departure. Taylor had almost a two hour head start, but he would have to get Rick first. That would take some cunning and time. If I am lucky, they would be arriving only shortly before me.

  I get to the general vicinity in an hour and fifteen minutes, parking my car deep into the property. The I follow the rest of the coordinates on foot, trudging through knee-high snow and biting cold. My lungs burn, my legs ache, but I keep my pace up, knowing that this is a matter of life and death.

  After a while, mild panic sets in when I feel I might be lost even though the GPS indicates I am on the right track. Yet, I am surrounded by untouched wilderness. I trudge on, having no choice but to rely on my only guide. Finally, there is a clearing and a small cabin that I would think was abandoned if not for the black Mercedes G-wagon sitting out front. I run up to the car, as the driver’s side door opens.

  “Harrison!” I call out.

  “Shyla!”

  The exhaustion hits me as I fall into his arms. “Taylor? Where is he? I know about Rick. I have to stop him,” I say between breaths.

  “I shouldn’t have led you here,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Yes you should have. Are they in there?”

  Harrison nods.

  “Is it…too late?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “I am going in.”

  “You shouldn’t.” Harrison’s face is pale. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Whatever is behind those doors can’t be worse than the things I have seen and known. You did the right thing. You did. I will have your back.”

  I jerk myself out of Harrison’s arms and walk up to the cabin door, pulling it open. The door opens to a barren living room. Just a single child’s chair sits in the corner of the dusty room. Then I hear creaking in the ceiling, like someone is walking upstairs. I tip toe up the stairs, the closer I get to the second floor, the louder the muffled voices become. Once I arrive to the second floor, I notice that they come from behind a closed door just 10 feet away from me.