by J. G. Sumner
I’m annoyed and want more than anything to hold the little dude in my arms. I know in my heart that would calm him down. “You’re not his mom. Of course he doesn’t want you. He needs the woman who birthed him and has his milk ready for him. He needs that nutrition that only she can provide. You have to let us go, before something happens to him.” With each cry AJ emits, my heart breaks open a little bit wider.
“I’m the only mother he knows. He probably just has a bit of colic. Lots of babies get it. We’ll figure it out together and work through this. It’s an adjustment for everyone when a new member of the family arrives.” Her words almost seemed rehearsed as though they’re straight from a textbook.
“Have you tried giving him some formula? Maybe he’s just very hungry.” It’s only been less than a day since I’ve seen my son, but it looks as though he’s lost a bit of weight. Not a good thing. Even I know they’re supposed to start gaining weight after the first couple of days.
“Breast milk is better. That’s what his body needs to grow strong and healthy. Plus, the antibodies from my milk will help ward off any sickness.” Emilia rocks AJ back and forth in an attempt to soothe him.
“There’s only one problem with this: you’re not producing any milk. He needs to eat. Please just try some formula to see if that works.” There is definitely something not right with this girl’s brain. The synapses aren’t firing or something, but the more time I spend with Emilia, the more I realize she’s crazy as fuck and she’s definitely not the same person I spent all that time with.
“You don’t understand. If he doesn’t breastfeed, my milk will go away and then there won’t be any. He has to do this.”
I’d like to get my hands on the book she’s reading and throw it out the same fucking window as her common sense disappeared through. “Let me try to spell this out for you. You aren’t making milk, so no matter how much he latches on, he’s still not eating. He needs to eat to survive. Without something in his stomach, AJ will die. Now go get some fucking formula and you can latch him on your damned tit later!”
Emilia continues to try and soothe AJ. “Please don’t talk that way in front of our son. It only upsets him more.”
AJ’s crying hasn’t waned any; it’s only gotten worse. Maybe there’s some validity to her point regarding my yelling, but more likely, he’s becoming more impatient with the empty stomach and wants to be fed. I try to use a calm voice to speak, but really, I just want to rip Emilia’s throat out and shake her senselessly.
“Do me a favor and go try some formula. If it doesn’t work, you can come back and rub it in that you were right and you know best. If it does work, then we’ve given AJ some nutrition so he doesn’t starve to death while waiting for your body to start responding the way you believe it will.”
Emilia stares at me and as her face twists and turns, I can virtually see the wheels cranking in her head trying to figure out the right thing to do. “All right, I’ll try it.” She turns to walk out of the room.
“Hey! When you’re done, could you please come back in here and adjust these ropes. I can’t feel my hands anymore.” I spread my hands out so she can see the color change.
She gasps. “What have you been doing in here? You shouldn’t kick your legs. The more you do, the tighter the ropes on your wrists become and they don’t loosen up until I do it for you. I’ll be back later. You can handle it for a bit longer.” With that, Emilia leaves the room with my howling son, and I’m in no better predicament than I was before. I can only hope that AJ will calm down once he has a full tummy, and that nothing else is going on.
Chapter Nineteen
Tony
My first couple of days with Emilia wasn’t horrible. I slept through most of it. I’m not sure if it’s because I was sleep-deprived from taking care of Kate and the babies, or because Emilia drugged me and the residual of the medications left me lethargic. It doesn’t really matter, because now, I’m wide awake and can’t even think about sleeping.
It’s killing me just staring at the ceiling for hours on end. My thoughts are a constant stream of traffic trying to navigate the right direction to find a way to get me and AJ home. I haven’t seen AJ since the other day when he was crying and I worry about his health, although he hasn’t cried too much since Emilia’s been giving him some formula. She’s still obsessed with trying to breastfeed. I’ve had to reassure her that there are plenty of mothers whose babies don’t take to the breast. This seemed to make her feel better and she’s a little more open to the whole formula thing.
I often think about Abby and wonder how she’s doing. Has her pneumonia cleared up? Has she been released from the hospital? How I wish there was some way to find the answer, but I dare not say a word about Abby to Emilia. I don’t need to worry about her being kidnapped too. Abby is much safer where she’s at.
Kate invades my every thought and dream. I can only imagine what mine and AJ’s disappearance has done to her already fragile state. I wonder if she’s able to find the strength to get up and be there for Abby, or if she lies in bed surrendering to the tragic events that have consumed her life over the past couple of years. The thing I always go back to is the thought that she thinks I left her because she couldn’t take good enough care of AJ. I certainly hope not. The last thing I want is to cause any more pain in her life. It’s bad enough the past has caught up with me again.
My back is in a constant state of achiness from lying on the floor for so long. There’s rarely a change of position, and I swear my ass is getting sores on it. Fortunately, the feeling in it went away a day or two ago and it doesn’t bother me nearly as bad as my back.
I’ve given up pulling on the ropes. Emilia was right, they only get tighter, and the more I do it, the longer she allows me to suffer without adequate circulation in my hands. If I’m not careful, the tissue will die from lack of blood flow. Emilia doesn’t have the common sense to figure that out. I’m going to need these hands at some point if I’m able to get out of here.
The only plan for escape I have is to lure Emilia into believing I’m one hundred percent sold on this relationship, and that I’m ready to be the man she’s always wanted for our children. I’m still not convinced that she’s pregnant, but I don’t dare say that to her. At some point, she has to let me out of these restraints.
“Knock, knock!”
I turn my head to find Emilia standing in the doorway with a plate of food. I’ve never considered eating a privilege. Now, I wait, hoping I’ll get three meals a day. “What did you bring?” I’m less than enthusiastic. My hunger has waned, most likely from lying here and not moving. I could probably get away with eating once a day.
“Mushroom tortellini with a sun-dried tomato pesto sauce.” Emilia pushes her way through the door and sits the plate down on the floor next to me.
I’m sure she’d love to watch me lap up the food like a dog, but I won’t. I’m going to make her feed me or I won’t eat at all. It may sound stupid, but I need to have some control over this situation.
“How’s AJ?” I want to see my son so bad and hold him. It’s like torture, keeping me away from the ones I love. Tie me up, don’t feed me, but don’t keep AJ in the next room and not allow me to touch, hold, or smell him.
“He’s fine. The little guy is such a good little sleeper. In fact, he sleeps so much that he barely eats. Growing is taking it out of him.
The bottom drops out of my stomach as though I just went down the biggest drop on a roller coaster. Something isn’t right here. “Emilia, how much is he sleeping exactly?”
She waves me off. “I don’t know. I guess about eighteen to twenty hours a day. He’s a growing boy who needs his sleep. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
If I could rub my hand down my face I would. Instead, the veins in my neck and forehead are bulging from my blood boiling. I’m about to blow a freaking gasket. “That’s not normal! You need to let me see him now.”
“You’re overreacting. E
at your dinner and then I’ll go wake him up.” Emilia picks up the fork and attempts to put some tortellini in my mouth.
I purse my lips shut and turn my head to the side. “I won’t take a bite unless you go check on him. Wake AJ up and bring him here. I need to see with my own eyes he’s okay.”
Emilia nervously laughs. “You’re quite the overprotective dad. Who would’ve known? Fine, eat this and then I’ll go get him. I’m telling you, there’s nothing to be concerned about. He’s okay.”
I pop open my mouth and motion for the food. The faster I get it in my mouth, the quicker I’ll be able to see AJ. “All right, I’m chewing. Go wake him up and bring him here. He’s barely had any time to bond with his dad. He needs me too.”
If there’s really something wrong with him, I’m going to have to up the doting boyfriend/dad game so I can get out of these shackles. There’s no more time for these stupid games. I have a feeling my son’s life depends on it.
Emilia walks in with AJ in her arms. His body is lifeless and his head is hanging limply over her arm. “The poor little guy is so tired that he won’t wake up.” She smiles down at AJ and coos to him.
“Emilia! He’s not okay. We need to take him to a doctor right away.”
She waves me off again. “No, no. He’s just fine. See for yourself.”
Emilia holds AJ up next to me. My son is breathing, but it’s shallow. His skin is dusky and he’s lost even more weight since I’ve see him last.
“He’s dying!” I pull on the ropes to reach out to him, but I’m thwarted. Damn it!
“You’re being dramatic. He’s just sleeping. Now we need you to eat so you can be strong and eventually help me take care of him. I’m going to need some help once our daughter is born.”
I shake my head and do a double take. Daughter? Since when? Only a couple of days ago she told me it would be at least another couple of weeks before we would know the gender. As far as I know that loon hasn’t been back to get a check-up. Really, I don’t care right now. The most important thing is getting out of these restraints to get AJ to the hospital. I’m getting ready to panic just as a plan settles into my brain.
“If I eat, can you let me hold AJ?” The answer is going to be no, but it can’t hurt to ask. Also, it lets her believe I’m calming down about the situation a bit.
Emilia puts AJ down on the floor and he doesn’t stir. My heart is breaking a little bit more with each second that passes. I need to touch him and find some way to bring the life back into him.
“If you finish all your food, I’ll think about it. You have to promise to be a good boy. I won’t tolerate any defiance. I need you to be a role model for this family.”
Emilia puts some salad on the fork and shoves it into my mouth forcefully. The tines hit the back of my throat causing me to cough. As I inhale during one of the coughs, a piece of food gets lodged in my airway. I try to cough more to get it out, but it won’t move. I start to gag and can’t breathe. I barely get out the words “help me.”
She jumps up and tries to pound on my back, but can’t get enough access to it. The food doesn’t come out and I can no longer breathe. Emilia feverishly begins to untie my wrists. As soon as she sets both arms free, I sit up and slug her with all my strength across the face. She falls to the floor. Her eyes are open, but she’s not moving. I spit out the chunk of food that I’ve been pretending I was choking on.
I quickly untie my ankles and stand up. Emilia reaches for my leg, but I kick her arm away. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and she’s out. I take the ropes and tie her up. I don’t have time to deal with her and I can’t take the chance of her getting away. The last thing Kate and I need is to look over our shoulders like we had to do with Matteo.
As soon as I’m sure there’s no way Emilia is going to get loose, I grab AJ and run out of the room in search of the door to the apartment. Once in the living room, I’m stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of a poster-size photo of Kate, with knives stabbed through the picture covering her entire face. Written in black Sharpie is: Die Bitch!
“Holy fuck!”
I don’t have time to stick around and look for any more weird shit. Instead, I make my way out the door and hightail it down the street until I find someone with a cell phone. The woman is petite and dressed in bohemian attire with a pixie haircut.
“Please help! My baby, he’s sick. I need you to call nine-one-one.”
She looks at me as though I’m some crazed lunatic and then glances down at AJ. She takes a hand and covers her mouth. “Oh my God!”
“Please, can you call for help?” Pixie lady recovers and makes the call that will hopefully save my boy’s life.
A medic arrives only a few short minutes later. They grab AJ from my arms and force some breaths into him with a mask and bag filled with oxygen.
“What happened, sir?”
I start to tell him the story of how we were abducted, and stop myself when I realize how crazy it sounds. He probably wouldn’t believe me and it would distract from helping AJ.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t been eating and sleeps a lot more lately. When I checked on him a few minutes ago, he was like this.”
The young man, who looks to be mid-twenties, continues to ask a few questions while his partner tends to AJ. I can’t believe that both of my kids are going to wind up in the hospital within two weeks of being born. This is all one big fucking nightmare.
The medics load AJ onto a gurney and put him in the back of the ambulance. Just as I’m getting ready to enter, I take a brief second to look up and figure out where I am so that I can tell the police where to find the psychopath who’s been holding us captive.
I’m surprised to learn we are only about six blocks from my apartment. I’ve been so close to home this entire time, but I could’ve been in another country, I’ve been so isolated. I climb into the back of the ambulance and shut the door as the driver powers up the rig, turns on the lights and sirens, and takes us to the hospital.
The entire ride they work on starting an IV on AJ and putting oxygen into him. Fortunately, they haven’t had to put the breathing tube down his throat yet. I cross my fingers in hopes we don’t have to go down that road with him.
As soon as we get into the all too familiar emergency room of Presbyterian Hospital, the nurses and doctors whisk AJ into a room. I follow, not wanting to take my eyes off my son who I’ve had limited contact with over the past several days. He’s not just a baby, he’s a part of me, and losing him would destroy me.
Once the staff gets AJ hooked to a monitor and dialed in, the doctor approaches me. “Are you the father?”
I nod before speaking. “Yes, I’m Tony Bertalucci, and that’s my son, AJ.”
“My name is Dr. Jones. It appears that your son has what we call Failure to Thrive. He’s lost weight since he was first born, his heart rate and breathing is low, and he’s listless. We’re going to need to put a tube in to help him breathe, and another to feed him. He already has an IV in to rehydrate him. Hopefully in a few days, he’ll be tuned up and ready to take on life.”
“What causes it?” I’m in shock and with the million things flying through my head right now, this is the only question I can get out.
Dr. Jones impatiently switches his stance. “There are many things. I’d have to hear a little bit more about what’s been going on around him before I can give you the potential cause. However, it’s imperative that I get those tubes in now. I’d be happy to discuss them more with you once I get him stabilized.”
I nod for the doctor to go on and take care of my son.
“I’ll need you to step outside while we’re doing this. I’ll come and get you as soon as the procedure is finished.” Doctor Jones turns and heads back to AJ’s side.
I’m left standing in front of my son’s room with hands shaking, heart racing, and at a loss for what to do. I have no wallet or phone. I’m at an all-time low and feel completely helpless. My thoughts shift to Emilia and a pict
ure of her tied up with a big shiner brings a smile to my face. I’ve never been much for violence, but she messed with the wrong person this time. She had it coming to her.
I proceed over to the central nurses’ station and ask to use the phone. The first call I make is to Jasper.
“Bloody hell, mate. Where the fuck have you been?” he screams in agitation. He’s pissed.
I brief Jasper on the events of the past few days. He already has his men on the way over to Emilia’s since they’ll probably get there before the police. Meanwhile, Jasper is going to round up Kate and bring her to the hospital.
“How’s Abby?” I dread asking the question because I fear the worst, but I need to know. I don’t want to wonder anymore.
“She’s much better, and is going to be released tomorrow. Jesus, man, you had us thinking you took off with AJ. It’s a wonder it didn’t send Kate over the edge.”
“I know. I figured you would think that. Please hurry up and get Kate over here. I need to hold her in my arms. Something good has to come out of all of this.”
I hang up the phone and call the police to inform them about Emilia. The female on the other end of the line takes minimal information and informs me that a detective will be en route to the hospital shortly. Thank God Jasper is sending his guys to keep Emilia detained. The police don’t seem to be in any hurry. Wait until they realize it’s Charles Anderson’s grandson that was kidnapped. Maybe then they’ll find a different gear.
Chapter Twenty
Tony
It doesn’t take long before Kate is frantically barging through the doors of the emergency department. I wave her and Jasper over to where I’m waiting for the doctor to finish up with AJ. It seems like hours have passed by, but it’s probably only been twenty to thirty minutes.