It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  Fighting down her suffocating fear, Caroline tried to prod her paralyzed brain into action. She knew she couldn’t open the door, couldn’t expose Jared to the danger these teens represented. But the consequences of noncompliance sent a new wave of terror rippling through her.

  “Open the door!” One of the teens twisted her arm, and the sharp pain that shot through her wrist bent her double. “Stand up and open the door.” The pressure on her arm eased and she was pulled upright.

  Please, Lord, help me! she prayed in desperation.

  When she still hesitated, the younger thug grabbed a fistful of her hair, then slammed the side of her face against the metal door. For a second, pinpoints of light exploded behind her eyes, obscuring her vision. She sagged against her captor as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

  “Hey, man, be careful. She ain’t gonna be no use to us if she passes out.”

  “Yeah, well, we ain’t getting nowhere this way.”

  “She must have an access badge. Hold on to her.” The older of the two moved in front of her and put his face close to hers. “You gonna give it to us, or you wanna do this the hard way?”

  When she didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed. “Okay. You asked for it.”

  Caroline closed her eyes and tried not to cringe as his hands moved over her body in a rough and thorough pat-down.

  “It ain’t here,” he pronounced when he finished.

  “So whaddaya wanna do?” The younger kid was starting to sound nervous.

  “I got an idea.”

  Although her vision was still slightly blurred, Caroline had no trouble identifying the shiny silver object he withdrew from his belt as a knife. The boy put the point to her throat and his face hardened. “Okay, you got ten seconds to open that door. If you don’t, we’re gonna keep doing this until you do.” In a flash, he removed the point of the knife from her throat, pulled one arm from behind her back and slashed the blade down her forearm. Immediately blood began to ooze from the four-inch gash.

  Stunned, Caroline stared at the wound. For a second she thought she was going to faint. Not from pain. So far she felt nothing. It was fear that caused her light-headedness. She’d been in some dangerous situations in her journalism career, but none where she was the intended victim. This was a whole different ballgame. There was no doubt in her mind that these two punks would follow through on their threat. Their expressions were cold, detached. As if hurting people—or taking a life—was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t, for them. That’s what made this situation so terrifying.

  “Let’s try it one more time.” The teen who had produced the knife, the older of the two, gestured to the kid behind her, who once more shoved her face close to the keypad.

  She had to do something. Stall, if nothing else. Maybe the police would come by. They’d been patrolling the area with increased frequency for the past few weeks. They could appear at any second.

  Slowly she lifted her hand. The cut on her arm was bleeding more now, bathing her arm in red. But that was the least of her problems at the moment.

  Taking as much time as she dared, Caroline punched in a set of numbers. The wrong numbers. A fact that became apparent to the two thugs when they tried the door and it didn’t budge.

  Once more, she was jerked around and her arm was yanked forward. “I guess we’ll have to do some more persuading,” the older boy sneered.

  Just as he positioned the knife, the back door opened. All three heads swiveled toward Jared, who stood on the threshold, staring at the scene in shock. He must have come to check on her because she’d been gone for too long, Caroline realized, her panic escalating. In the next instant, she was shoved to the ground as the two youths sprang at the teen.

  For a few seconds she lay unmoving, the breath knocked out of her. She was aware of a scuffle taking place, of the dull sound of fists hitting solid flesh, of grunts textured with pain, but little else registered. By the time she could react, the two youths had subdued Jared, who had fallen to his knees. Blood streamed from his nose, and his breathing was labored.

  As she struggled to her feet and opened her mouth to scream, the older teen once more brandished his knife. “Make a sound and we’ll finish him off right now.”

  She froze and looked over at Jared. There was fear in his eyes, but also anger. “I don’t know these dudes.” He spoke fast, in quick gasps. “But they’re from my old gang...some kind of initiation rite.”

  “Shut up.” The guy with the knife kicked him in the side—the side with the healing broken ribs. Caroline flinched and a wave of nausea washed over her, followed by a fresh surge of fear. She’d learned enough about gangs to know that initiation rites often involved senseless and random acts of violence.

  “Now that we got the traitor, whaddaya wanna do with her?” The younger kid motioned toward Caroline.

  “I don’t know.” The youth with the knife gave her a speculative look. When he spoke again, his tone was almost jovial. “But maybe two is better than one. Or even three, if someone else shows up.”

  David! He would be here any minute, Caroline realized with a jolt. If she didn’t answer the front buzzer, he’d no doubt come around to the back. And walk right into this volatile situation. Just as Michael had done the day he died—also because of her. It was a replay of the nightmare that had haunted her for two years. She had to do something!

  Catching Jared’s eye, she inclined her head slightly to the guy beside him, with the knife. Then did the same toward the guy behind her. Judging by his nod, he got the message. They might not succeed in resisting their attackers, but it was better than waiting for these two thugs to finish them off. At least they’d go down fighting.

  Jared was poised for her signal, his face frightened but resolute.

  This is it, Lord, she prayed. Give us strength and courage. Be with us no matter what happens.

  And with that, she nodded to Jared.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As he pressed the night bell for the second time, a tingle of unease raced along David’s spine. He knew Caroline and Jared were here. He’d called Caroline less than an hour before to confirm their dinner date. Why wasn’t she answering?

  Once more, he pressed the bell—and held it. But again, there was no response. His apprehension escalated to alarm. Just as he reached for his cell phone to call 911, he spotted a police car on routine patrol heading his way. Thank You, Lord! David prayed as he flagged down the vehicle.

  Officer Scanlon got out of the car as David approached. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “David Sloan, officer. We met the day of the bomb threat. I had an appointment with Caroline James this evening, but there’s no answer. She was here an hour ago and planned to meet me. Our Uplink intern, Jared Poole, is with her.” His tone was clipped and curt as he fought down his rising panic.

  The policeman turned to his partner, who had emerged from the vehicle on the other side. David recognized Mark Lowe as well.

  “Call headquarters and report suspicious activity at the Chronicle,” Officer Scanlon instructed. “Request silent back-up. I’m going around to the rear. You cover the front.”

  Without waiting for a response, he withdrew his gun and took off at a trot toward the corner of the street, avoiding the alley. When David started to follow, he waved him back.

  For a second, David hesitated. He wanted to do something to help. But he didn’t want to get in the way, either. Torn, he stared after Officer Scanlon, who had already disappeared around the corner.

  “Sir, I’d suggest that you take cover behind the car.” Mark came up beside David as he, too, reached for his weapon. “This may be a false alarm, but it would be safer if you stayed out of the line of fire, just in case. We don’t like to put civilians in danger. Back-up will be here in a couple of minutes.”

  Again, David hesitate
d. He wasn’t a civilian. He was the man in love with the woman inside this building. And if this wasn’t a false alarm, she was directly in the line of fire.

  “Look, can I help in some way? I can’t just hide behind...”

  A woman’s scream suddenly pierced the air from behind the building, followed by a gunshot. The surge of adrenaline that shot through David sent his pulse off the scale, and without waiting for Lowe to react, he turned and raced toward the alley.

  “Hey! Not that way!” the man shouted.

  Ignoring the warning, David plunged down the dark, narrow passage. A second later he heard the sound of running feet behind him.

  When David emerged into the parking lot a couple of seconds later, the sight that met his eyes rocked the foundation of his world. Jared was on the ground, with Caroline kneeling beside him, holding his hand, while Scanlon trained his gun on two young thugs a short distance away. A knife lay on the ground beside them, and blood stained the pants of one of the punks at thigh level. The blood that caught—and held— David’s attention, however, was on Caroline and Jared. Despite the deepening twilight, he could see that the lower part of Caroline’s left arm was almost solid red. But the dark splotches on her green silk blouse were even more frightening. Jared’s face was bloody, and there was a bright red stain on one side of his beige sport shirt.

  Officer Lowe pushed past David, gun drawn, as he radioed for more back-up and an ambulance.

  “Cuff them,” Scanlon barked over his shoulder.

  As Lowe complied, David’s lungs kicked into gear again and he sprinted toward Caroline and Jared, dropping to one knee beside them. “Caroline?” His voice was so shaky he almost didn’t recognize it.

  She turned to him, dazed. One side of her face was as pale as a blank sheet of newsprint. The other was puffy and scraped raw, and there was a large, discolored lump on her temple. “David? Are you all right?”

  His gut twisted. Despite her own injuries, her first worry was for him. “Yeah. But you’re not.”

  “I—I’m okay. But Jared’s hurt.” The words came out choked and shaky as she transferred her attention back to the intern.

  “You’re not okay. Your arm is cut. Your face is swollen. There’s blood on your blouse.”

  “The blood is from my arm. My face is fine. But they hurt Jared. They punched him, and kicked him in the ribs, and then they...they stabbed him in the side.” Her voice broke, and her eyes filled with tears. “Please, David. Help him! Do something!”

  Taking her assessment of her own condition at face value, David moved to Jared’s other side. The boy looked up at him, his eyes glazed with pain, and when David took his hand, it was cold and clammy. Shock was setting in. Meaning he needed help. Fast. Just as David turned to call for assistance from the police, a sudden wail of sirens sent relief coursing through him. “Hang in there, Jared. Help will be here in a couple of minutes. Okay?”

  “Yeah.” The boy’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.

  David looked across Jared’s prone form toward Caroline. The tears had spilled out of her eyes and begun to trickle down her cheeks as she focused on the boy, her face a mask of worry. She seemed oblivious to her own injuries, but David couldn’t ignore her battered face or the blood that continued to ooze from a gash on her arm. Nor did he miss the limp hand that lay in her lap. He wouldn’t rest easy until the paramedics had checked her out.

  The tense wait seemed interminable, but finally help arrived. Within seconds, it seemed that cops were swarming all over the scene, and the paramedics went into action, easing David and Caroline aside as they bent over Jared. While Caroline recounted the attack on Jared and pointed out his injuries, David motioned to another paramedic. “She needs attention, too. Right away,” he told the man, inclining his head toward Caroline.

  “Okay.” When Caroline finished discussing Jared, the EMT touched her shoulder. “Ma’am, let’s move over to the side. I need to take a look at you.”

  Annoyed, she shook her head. “Later. I want to stay with Jared.”

  David stepped in. “Now, Caroline.” He moved beside her and drew her to her feet with a firm hand.

  Caroline opened her mouth to argue, but all at once her legs buckled and she sagged against David. He caught her, and before she realized his intent he reached down and tucked his arm beneath her knees, lifting her in one smooth motion.

  “Where do you want her?” he asked the paramedic, his voice tight with tension.

  “The stretcher over there.” He pointed toward the ambulance.

  As David strode toward it, Caroline spoke. “You’re going to get blood on your suit. Put me down.” She’d meant to sound forceful. Instead, her comment came out weak and shaky.

  In any case, David ignored her. She had a good view of the solid set of his chin as he held her firmly against his chest, and she figured she might as well give up the fight. Besides, after the horror of the past twenty minutes, the haven of his arms felt good. And safe. And right.

  “Right here, sir.”

  At the paramedic’s instruction, David eased her down onto the stretcher. But he stayed close while the man checked her out. The EMT asked a series of questions as he worked to ensure he wasn’t missing any serious injuries. He was joined a few minutes later by Officer Scanlon, who had his own set of questions. Caroline answered them all, and as she recounted the terrifying, violent experience she began to shake. David reached for her hand, enfolding it in a firm clasp as he turned to the policeman. “Can this wait until later? She’s not up to all these questions right now.”

  “No problem. I just needed a few preliminaries.”

  “How’s Jared?” Caroline turned to David as the officer left and the EMT cleaned the gash on her arm.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can you find out?”

  He didn’t want to leave her. But he understood her concern. With a brief nod, he rose and made his way back to the paramedics clustered around the teen. “Can you tell me anything about his condition?”

  One of the EMTs spoke without turning as he continued to work on Jared. “Stab wound. Appears to be superficial. Bruised nose. May be broken, but we won’t know without X-rays. Possible broken ribs. Again, we need to confirm with X-rays. The preliminary prognosis looks good.”

  “Thanks.”

  By the time he returned to Caroline, the paramedic was just standing up, and David asked him the same question about her.

  “Severe bruising on her face. The hospital will want to do some X-rays to check for a concussion and broken bones. The gash on her arm will require stitches. Looks like she has a sprained wrist. X-rays will confirm that, too. We’re going to load her up now. Do you want to follow?”

  “Yeah.”

  David dropped down to balance on the balls of his feet beside her. As he took her hand, her slightly unfocused eyes, shallow breathing and the strain around her mouth communicated her pain. His throat tightened, and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “I’m going to follow you to the hospital, okay?”

  “How’s Jared?”

  “It sounds like he’ll be fine.”

  Relief eased some of the tension in her features. “Good.”

  The paramedics moved into position, and David leaned close. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  She tried to reach out to touch his face, wincing in pain at the effort.

  Grasping her arm, he laid her hand gently on her chest and smoothed the hair back from her face. “Don’t move, sweetheart.”

  “I was s-so afraid that y-you would walk into the middle of this and end up like M-Michael. I d-didn’t want to lose you, too.” Tears pooled in her eyes and her voice choked.

  Once more his throat tightened with emotion, and he stroked her uninjured cheek. “I’m fine, Caroline. It’s you I’m worried about.”


  “Sir, we need to get moving.”

  At the paramedic’s voice, David rose and stepped aside. Weeks ago, he had acknowledged his love for this woman, who’d stolen his heart more than two years before. And he’d seen signs that she felt the same way. Yet she’d put up barriers—which wasn’t surprising, considering all the baggage that came with their relationship. He hadn’t pushed, believing that she’d let him know when the time was right. But tonight, in the midst of a narrowly averted tragedy, she’d given him a glimpse into her heart with that simple comment: “I didn’t want to lose you, too.”

  And now that he knew her feelings paralleled his, it was time to take some action.

  * * *

  David pulled to a stop in front of Caroline’s condo and wiped a weary hand down his face. Tonight had been a nightmare, but it was over. Caroline didn’t have a concussion or any broken facial bones, the sprained wrist was mild and twenty-two stitches had taken care of the gash on her arm. Jared’s ribs had been bruised again, but neither they nor his nose was broken. The puncture in his side had required some work, but it was a flesh wound and should heal with no complications. His grandmother and great-aunt had kept vigil with David and Caroline’s mother until the wee hours, and now everyone was on their way home. No one was going to get much sleep this night, David realized, checking his watch. But at least they were all safe. When he thought about what could have happened... Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Thank You, Lord, for letting this end well.

  Looking over at his sleeping passenger, David’s heart contracted with tenderness. From the first moment he’d seen her, David had been drawn to Caroline. Some instinct had told him that she was a one-in-a-million woman. Over the past few weeks, as he’d gotten to know her—and grown to love her—that initial impression had been confirmed over and over again. And he intended to tell her that as soon as possible. Not tonight, of course. But as soon as she was back on her feet.