by Harlow Stone
“I can’t give you what you deserve, Ryder. I can’t.” I end when my breath hitches, pressing my lips back above his heart.
“Ssshhh, beautiful,” he says into my hair. “You’re not getting me.”
Calloused hands pull my face from his chest. Only when he knows he has eye contact does he continue.
“I broke that day beautiful. I won’t lie because I did. Watching him hear the first cries of his kid, and not being able to be there for it was devastating. But know I’m honest when I tell you I will take your beautiful face, lovely body and your stubborn head, with or without children.”
A sob I can’t stop escapes but he presses on. “I love you Elle, more than I ever loved anything. If you come without kids, I’ll live with it and be happy to do so. You’re mine, beautiful, and I wasn’t fucking joking when I told you I’d take you any way I could have you. Children are a bonus, but I don’t need them to love you any more than I already do.”
Blubbering into his chest I reply, “I know what having a child feels like, Ryder. You deserve that and so much more, you deserve everything. I can’t be here and know that I took that away from you no matter what you say. You saw what that man went though; you should have the same opportunity Ryder. And the only one taking away that opportunity is me. Just me, Ryder.”
I pull my head out of his chest and look into his glassy-black eyes. “You deserve it all, Ryder. You’re a good man. Too fucking good. Don’t let me stop you from creating little men such as yourself because I promise you, the world would be better, so much more whole with them than without. Don’t deprive yourself and the world of that, Ryder. Because this world needs a lot more people like yourself. Don’t let them or yourself down.”
I’m rolled over, Ryder’s heavy body crushing my own. I don’t complain, I never have and I never will. I accept his weight when his hands frame my face. “I’m letting myself down if I let you go, Elle. If I let myself down, then everybody else goes with it. There’s no debate for me, there’s no second guessing. It’s just you. The answer is you, beautiful. I don’t need anyone else, I don’t need kids. Because I just want you. Only you, babe. You’re mine, you’re keeping me and I’m keeping you. It’s as simple as that.” Warm lips touch mine before he continues. “Nothing else, beautiful. No one else, just Ryder and Elle.”
He grinds his hips into my own as his tongue seeks purchase in my mouth. He swallows the sob that escapes my lips.
“But you’ll resent me. One day Ryder, you’ll hate me for depriving you of something you could have had. I can’t live with that and you shouldn’t either.”
Strong lips silence mine. “It’s done Elle. The only thing I don’t want to live without is you. I already told you you’re stuck with me, so you’re mine. Mine forever beautiful, and I promise you so long as I have you I don’t need anything else. Nothing. Just you, all of you.”
He touches his lips to mine. “Scars included.”
Chapter Ten
It’s been five days
Five days of nothing. Five days with little news about anything or anyone. I want to pull my hair out. I want answers and I have none. It’s driving me absolutely insane. We’ve all more or less been staying at Jimmy’s. Denny, Ivan and sometimes Maverick apparently have rooms at The Rockport, a nicer motel about a mile up the road. One of them always seems to end up on the couch regardless.
Some nights they say it’s because they’ve had too much to drink, but I know it’s so that Ryder is not the sole person watching out for me. I don’t think the guys mind it much, Ivan added to his tattoo collection, courtesy of Jimmy, and Maverick spent one night down here so he could get out of the bush while Denny took over up north.
The guys have been busy down in the shop for a while. Ryder said they had some business to go over before they went down there and I didn’t bother to follow them because I assumed it had to do with something else they were working on. Jimmy is sleeping off his three night working bender where he either drank with his new buddies or painted until the wee hours of the morning.
So it’s just me, stewing up here and waiting for something to happen. I look out the window to the street below and notice Andrei Patrov exit Jimmy’s shop and get into a sleek, black car. Footsteps coming up the stairs notify me of Ryder’s arrival and I turn to watch as he stalks toward me. Dressed in dark jeans and a long sleeve black Henley, his beard still unshaven and his hair all mussed give him that just fucked look that I can’t get enough of.
He knows it too.
When he reaches me he cups me around my nape and puts his forehead to mine. “Gotta go out for a bit beautiful, Denny’s downstairs beating on the punching bag. I’m guessing he’ll be down there a while until he works through his shit. I’ll be back in a few hours. You need anything or you need to go anywhere just ask him.”
I shake my head. “I need to get out of here, Ryder. I’m going insane and it’s not like me to be a sitting duck, stuck in one place for so long.”
Kissing my lips he says, “I know beautiful. Cabe sent through some files he was able to get from Andrew’s online storage. He also sent some shit he found on him from university; I left it on the table downstairs. Take a look, it doesn’t make sense to any of us but it might make sense to you.”
Grateful that I finally have somewhere to direct my energy toward, I nod. “Good, it’ll give me something to do other than just fucking sit here.”
I shake out of his embrace but he pulls me back by my arm. “I love you Elle, and I hate to say it but I would rather have your ass stuck up here bored out of your mind, opposed to out there and dead. It’s tough, I get it. I sat in the same spot in the desert for days on end. Trust me babe, that sucks a lot more than being in a cushy apartment. We’ll get him, I promise you that.”
I know he’s right but it doesn’t make it any easier. Nor does it help my temper in any way. “I know Ry, go do what you need to do.”
With one last kiss to my lips, only deeper and involving tongue, he leaves.
A few moments later, after the fog has cleared I trudge down the steps into the shop. The workout room is off the back hall and I hear Denny pounding away on the punching bag. I don’t bother him but head to the table, seeing my life spread across it.
I see everything from my case file to photos, and one new folder sitting on top of it all. I open it up, noticing some transcripts of Andrew’s from university. He was computer tech student who made good grades while he was there. Some of the notes in the folder were written in a .docx file. They mean nothing to me.
A few spreadsheets are included regarding ANIG tech solutions. Someone has circled profit margins showing a considerable amount of money withdrawn, but it makes no sense because as far as Cabe or Revenue Canada is concerned the company never made that much. Not on paper anyway, just in Andrew’s files.
I skim through the rest of the small folder. There are a few noise complaints from the university that were filed against him and I’m assuming his then girlfriend, Sarah Hillbrand, who by the looks of what I’m seeing trashed his apartment and got charged for assault for throwing a lamp at his head.
Other than that, it’s useless information.
I pace around the table, wondering if his awful behavior started back then. Surely it didn’t happen overnight? If this bitch threw a lamp at his head he must have deserved it. But it makes no sense that she was charged and not him.
Who the fuck knows.
I need to get out of here, I need to walk and I need a drink. I can’t think in this place anymore, there’s no clarity. It’s like everything here is stagnant after five days of nothing. Walking back upstairs, I put my armor on, trendy hat included. All the images from my past run through my head as I walk back down the stairs, back to the beginning.
***
I sit idling behind the parking lot at Frank’s in Jimmy’s Chevy truck. I want to go in and have a drink, but I can’t yet. I purposely drove on the main street out front so I could avoid this, but being the st
ubborn woman that I am I couldn’t stop myself from turning around back to see where it all went down.
I haven’t been back to Frank’s since the night I was taken from this very parking lot. It’s changed and I have no doubt that was Frank’s doing. There used to be only one light on the back of the building, and one lamp post at the side of the lot. Now there are four brand new lamp posts that light the lot up like daylight.
There are also two security cameras on the back of the building that has new lights along it as well. I remember that evening vividly, like it was yesterday. It was much darker, but having walked the same way home for years, the little light was enough to get me onto the back street and on the sidewalk to home. I never feared that walk, nor did I need the light to guide me there.
Now I’ve turned into a woman who fears the dark. Not because of the dark itself, but because of what could be hiding in the shadows beyond my line of sight.
I stare at my surroundings and allow the nightmare from my past to unfold in front of me; the van up ahead, the feel of Andrew’s hand on my mouth with the soaked cloth, and the reflection in the van window of two men looking oddly alike. I now know that’s because there were two of them—twins.
I see the man in the wrinkled suit, keys in hand as he watches me get taken against my will but makes no move to help me.
I see it all.
I killed Andrew, and I have no remorse for doing so.
I can’t kill his brother, because I can’t find him.
I let the anger bubble up, pushing out the weakness I felt in that moment and allow the frustration to set in. There’s only one person available at the moment who I can let it out on, and for the first time in five days, I have a destination.
Chapter Eleven
The mailbox tells me most of what I need to know.
R. Wallace.
It’s the same name from the police files I had memorized and I waste no time in surveilling the property.
It’s shit to say the least. The shrubs haven’t been trimmed and lawn needs to be cut. The paint is peeling off the front door and the windows could use a good scrub. It’s not a complete shithole, and I’m certain his previous home was better kept than this one. I take pleasure in knowing this is most likely due to the divorce that ensued a year ago, and it looks good on him. Detective Miller told me Wallace never reported my abduction because he was at the bar to meet up with his side piece and he didn’t want his wife to find out. Divorce looks good on him, serves him right.
Karma can be a nasty bitch, and I’m about to show him just how awful that can be.
I look just like anyone else out for a late night jog, aside from the fact that it’s almost pitch dark, and I’m wearing tall black boots and not running shoes. I’ve been waiting near the park, scoping this place out and I’m finally going to make my move.
I jog lightly up the sidewalk and when I’m sure that nobody is paying attention (not that I’ve seen anyone give two shits about what happens in this neighborhood) I bolt up the lawn and edge along the side of the house.
There’s no garage so I know he’s not here. I also locate the back entrance and peer in the filthy windows along the way. No lights are on aside from the light above the oven in the kitchen.
Perfect.
When I get to the back door I take a look at the hardware. There’s a deadbolt which I wasn’t prepared for so instead of messing around with it I check the two windows that are on the backside. The one that seems to be the bathroom window doesn’t open. I walk eight feet to my left and see the kitchen window is open, just a crack.
I reach up and push the screen. It slides on the track, enabling me to push the kitchen window open all the way. It’s about five feet off the ground, and thanks to all my hard work with Brock and Denny, I have no trouble using my arms to pull me up, placing my foot on the ledge and pushing myself in.
I brace my hand on the edge of the sink and try not to knock over the dirty dishes in the sink. I can tell they’ve been here a while because what food isn’t completely hardened on them fucking stinks.
I bring my other leg in through the window and while squatting on the counter I pull the screen closed and shut the window tight. I don’t want anyone hearing what’s about to happen here.
Time to get the lay of the land.
The kitchen is small. It has a round wooden table with four ugly wooden chairs, chairs with spindles on the back. They’re outdated, but sturdy. Most likely a hand-me-down that survived years of abuse but still lasts because it wasn’t poorly crafted like everything else made in the last twenty years, purchased at a big box store.
There’s an opening in the middle of the kitchen which leads to the living room. It too is ugly with its brown carpet that looks like it’s been here for forty years. It holds an easy chair, a worn plaid couch and small television on the opposite wall.
There’s a picture window at the front but the heavy curtains are pulled closed. The main door has a small rectangular window but it’s the ancient kind where the glass looks wavy so I know I won’t be noticed.
I head down the hallway to my right and locate a washroom on the right side, a small utility room after that and a bedroom on the left. That’s all that’s in this tiny little house.
Nothing fancy here either. A double bed with sheets askew. It smells like nothing in here has been washed in a while either. There are nightstands on either side of the bed with a closet to the right, and a dresser at the end.
I go to the closet first and note the multitude of cheap suits that are in there. Apparently the man still has his job. There are a few shoe boxes and some extra bedding. Nothing out of place, no weapons to be found.
I open up the drawer in the nightstand, thankful for the leather gloves I have on. There’s a multitude of porn magazines, and an opened tube of lubrication. Apparently he was in too much of a hurry to close it because it’s leaked all over the drawer. I lift out the magazines and find a few condoms, but other than that, no bibles or weapons in here.
I do the same to the other side table and dresser drawers, finding clothes and some mail and other useless shit.
One thing that catches my eye before I leave the bedroom is the only picture on his dresser. It’s of him and what I assume is his ex-wife, if the rings and white dress are anything to go by. He doesn’t look too bad in the photo, and he looks happy as well. His sandy-brown hair is well kept. He’s not handsome but he’s not really ugly either. I’m guessing he’s maybe in his forties now, and in the photo he looks to be maybe in his late twenties. Either way, he was clean cut and not at all who you would expect to live in a dump like this place.
Forgetting everything in here because I don’t need to remember it, I head back to the kitchen to gather what I need to be ready.
I wonder if he’ll remember me when he gets home.
Probably not.
He may have forgot about me by now, the scared woman from Frank’s parking lot who he refused to help, all because he was afraid his wife would find out that he was there to meet another woman.
He’ll soon know what it feels like to be scared and helpless.
I’ll make sure of it.
***
It’s almost ten when I see the lights flash through the small gap between the curtains. I don’t budge from my spot at the kitchen table. My ass is numb from sitting still for so long—and so is the rest of me. I’m not sure why I do this to myself, embrace the numb again. But with Ryder out on business and me alone, I don’t feel so guilty for reverting to my cold-hearted self. I need a little of her back right now.
Just for a little while.
I hear the car door slam and the jingle of keys as he makes his way to the front door. I hear the twist of the lock before he enters, wisely locking the door behind him.
Too bad he doesn’t know the danger lurking outside is already sitting at his kitchen table.
The flick of the switch is followed by a curse. The light doesn’t come on because I loosened the
bulb. The less light coming from the living room, the better.
I listen to his footsteps as he nears the kitchen. I hear a thunk on the way and assume it was him dropping his briefcase on the table in the entryway.
His back is to me as he enters the kitchen, heading for the light switch that I know illuminates the kitchen beside the rear door. He succeeds, and my eyes take a moment to adjust after sitting in the dark for so long. It’s not enough to set me off guard.
Robert Wallace turns around and lets out a surprised huff of breath before his keys drop to the floor. He’s seen me, but I don’t see any recognition in those eyes. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”