by April Wilson
Chapter 11
Shane
Breathe, I remind myself. Just fucking breathe. You’re no help to the girls if you can’t keep it together.
I stare hard at the attic window, willing Beth to reappear. I just want to see her face once more. Knowing that she’s up there, out of harm’s way, is a comfort. If they can remain quiet up there in the attic, they’ll be perfectly safe. As soon as this hostage situation is resolved, I’ll be the first one up there, breaking down her door and carrying her off to safety.
My only consolation is knowing that my sister is with her. Lia won’t let anything happen to Beth. I know that. Still, it’s… difficult for me to be out here, when Beth is in there. I can’t even let myself think about how scared she must be. Jesus, I’d give anything to have her here with me, in my arms, where I can protect her with my own body if necessary.
It’s taken me a while, but ice has finally settled into my veins, thank God, chasing away the fear, the gut-wrenching panic that threatened to choke me the minute I heard those gunshots. In the first few minutes of the siege, it was nearly impossible for me to think straight, knowing that Beth and Lia were somewhere in that building, possibly at the mercy of those drugged-out lunatics. And our baby! He’s in danger too. They all are. The thought makes me burn.
It’s my fucking job to keep my family safe, and right now, they’re in there, and I’m out here. I would trade places with them in a heartbeat. I would walk into that building and trade myself for them if I thought it had a chance of succeeding. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come.
Jonah turns to face me, a mix of fear and compassion in his gaze. “You okay?”
I nod. “Jake and his team are on their way. ETA thirty-seven minutes by helicopter. Add ten minutes for unloading the chopper and securing ground transportation to our location. Cooper hired two SUVs from the airfield.”
Jonah nods, looking as shell-shocked as I feel.
At the first sign of trouble—a series of rapid gunshots coming from inside the convenience store—I felt the Earth shift beneath my feet. I’d never been so scared in my life. I spent over ten years in the Marines, as part of Force Recon—special ops—and never once during those years had I ever felt such hopeless fear as I did today. In the Marines, I’d feared for my life dozens of times, sure, but never once was it as crippling as this fear I have for Beth and Lia.
At the beginning of the standoff, I’d assumed that Beth and Lia had been rounded up at gun point with the rest of the customers. But when the gunmen lined the hostages along the front glass windows, and I didn’t see any sign of them, I was able to take my first breath. But where the hell were they? Knowing my sister, their whereabouts was anyone’s guess.
Jonah and I waited for twenty agonizing minutes before I caught sight of Lia peering out of a small round window in the attic. I would have bowed down at my sister’s feet at that moment, if I could have. She’d somehow managed to sneak Beth out of harm’s way.
If they could stay up there in the attic, undetected, there was a damn good chance they’d get through this ordeal unscathed. And frankly, that was my primary objective. I’d do what I could to assist with the hostage situation on the ground floor, but if push came to shove, my allegiance would be to my family.
In the meanwhile, I have a tactical team en route. But there are other people who need to be notified. Beth’s family—her mother, Ingrid Jamison, and her brother, Tyler. And my family—my parents and my siblings.
Dreading the news I have to deliver, I bring up Tyler’s contact info on my phone and press the call button.
Two rings later, he picks up, answering in his usual clipped, brusque tone. “Jamison.”
Tyler and I have known each other in a professional capacity for years, but it wasn’t until I met his sister that our association became personal, not to mention complicated. Tyler was eighteen years old when his sister was born, and he more or less helped their single mother raise her. Beth’s father, a Chicago street cop, died in the line of duty when she was an infant, leaving her mother a widow and Tyler suddenly a teenaged father figure to a baby girl. Tyler’s a controlling son-of-a-bitch, and he didn’t take kindly to me entering the picture and assuming a significant role in his sister’s life. He didn’t like me usurping his place, but that was too damn bad. The minute I met her, Beth’s life intertwined with mine, and she became mine to protect.
“What is it, Shane?” he says. “Is something wrong?”
The news I have to deliver sits on my tongue like acid, burning me, but I have no choice. He needs to know. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. Beth and Lia have been caught up in an armed robbery at a convenience store in Galford, forty-five minutes north of the city. They’re safe at the moment. They’re in hiding, and the perps don’t know of their whereabouts. But the situation is volatile. I’m working on a plan to extricate them from the building. I have a tactical team on the way, their ETA approximately thirty-five minutes.”
At first, there’s nothing but dead air on the line, making me wonder if the call had been dropped. But then I hear a muffled curse. Tyler’s voice comes hard and fast, which tells me he’s already on the move. “Send me your location. I’m on my way. Who has jurisdiction?”
“Galford has a police department, but it’s small. There are two deputies on site, and they’ve called in a third. But that’s all they’ve got. The deputy in charge has already requested a SWAT team from Blanchard—they’re the closest jurisdiction with a tactical response team. In the meanwhile, I’ve got a team of my guys on the way. My objective is to get the girls out of the building without the gunmen knowing.”
“How many assailants?” Tyler says.
“Two armed males. We’ve seen handguns and assault rifles. The perps are erratic, possibly high. They’ve shot at least one hostage that we know of.”
“Shit. I have no jurisdiction there, but I can help on the ground.”
I hear the engine of Tyler’s pick-up truck turn over, followed by a loud squeal as he peels out into traffic.
“What about your mother? Do you want me to call her?”
“No. I’ll do it. You just focus on getting Beth and Lia out of there.”
After ending the call with Tyler, I call my parents, explaining to them what’s going on, as objectively and succinctly as I can. They’re obviously shaken, but they do their best to keep it together, promising to inform the rest of my siblings.
The third deputy arrives just as the officer-in-charge raises a bullhorn and addresses the gunmen, demanding that they release the hostages and put down their weapons. One of the gunmen opens the front door, holding a sobbing middle-aged woman in front of him like a shield, and jeers at the officer’s demands. I can tell from the sound of the perp’s voice that he’s in physical and emotional distress, likely suffering from withdrawal. These two perps are drug addicts, and they’re desperate for cash and their next fix. That’s never a good combination.
I lay my hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “Stay here and watch for our people to arrive. I’m going to see if I can help with the negotiations.”
Keeping low to the ground, I make a dash for the officer with the bullhorn, plastering myself close to the vehicle once I reach his side. “I have extensive negotiation experience,” I tell him, craning my neck to see over the hood of the police cruiser. The perp at the door is shaking badly as he presses the muzzle of his gun to the woman’s head. He’s completely unstable, which means this situation could go from bad to worse any time. “I can help you.”
The officer shakes his head at me, looking more than a little frazzled. “This is official police business, sir. Stay back, or I’ll have you removed from the vicinity.”
I have to bite back a derisive laugh. Who’s going to remove me? He and his two buddies are up to their eyeballs in this shitstorm. Besides, I’d like to see them try.
I return to the far side of the Escalade, where Jonah is staring hard at hi
s phone, a frown marring his expression.
“What’s wrong?” I say, my heart immediately jumping into my throat.
Jonah looks from me to the little attic window high overhead, then back to me, hesitating as if he’s not sure what to say. But I don’t have time to pussy foot around. “Just spit it out, Jonah.”
Chapter 12
Beth
What started out as a few cramps has turned into what feels like contractions. At first, I thought it was more of those Braxton-Hicks contractions, which I’ve had before—like I had earlier this morning. But the contractions continue to come, and each one seems stronger than the one before it.
I’m starting to think I might be in labor for real, and it scares me to death because it’s too early. Way too early. Luke’s not ready to come out. And the conditions here, as I look around at the hot, dusty room, are far from sanitary.
I finish the water bottle Lia gave me, and the protein bar, but the food is sitting like a rock in my stomach, making me nauseated. I get up and go to Lia, who’s standing by the window overlooking the street. “What are you doing?” I ask her.
“Texting Jonah.”
I peek out the window and see Jonah crouched behind the Escalade. He’s alone. “Where’s Shane?”
“Over there.” Lia points to one of the patrol cars parked in front of the convenience store.
I spot Shane crouching behind the patrol car, talking to one of the police officers. “What’s he doing?”
Warm water starts trickling down my leg, and I look down in horror, staring at the spreading puddle beneath me. “What in the world?”
My first thought is that I wet myself. After all, I did just drink an entire bottle of water. But I think I would know if my bladder just decided to let go.
Lia looks down at the floor. Then her gaze shoots up to my face. “Did you just pee?”
I shake my head and press my hand between my legs. My clothes are soaked. “I don’t think so.”
Her eyes widen as realization dawns. “Shit!” She grabs my arms and walks me back to a recliner. “Sit down.”
“I can’t sit down! My clothes are wet. I’ll ruin the chair.”
Rolling her eyes at me, she pushes me down onto the chair. “Sit down! You’re in labor, for fuck’s sake!”
I wrap my arms around my abdomen. “I can’t be. It’s too soon.”
Lia starts pacing, keying something furiously into her phone. “Well, I don’t think you get a say in it.”
After she finishes doing whatever she’s doing with her phone, she crouches down in front of me and rests her hands on my knees. She looks calm now, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary for someone to go into labor. “It’s going to be okay,” she says with a forced smile on her face. “You’re going to be fine. The baby’s going to be fine.”
Another contraction hits me, and I double over, gasping for breath. My mind races as I try to recall everything I’ve ever read about labor. “I think we’re supposed to time the contractions.”
Lia brings up the stopwatch on her phone. “Let me know when the next one starts.”
The liquid has slowed to a trickle, but my clothes and the chair are soaked through.
Lia pats my leg. “We need to get you out of your wet clothes and find someplace where you’ll be comfortable. Hold on, let me see what I can find.”
She makes a quick circuit through the attic, moving quietly and efficiently as she searches every inch of the room. She ignores all the chairs and focuses on a group of sofas in the back corner of the room. Then she locates a stash of bedding sets, selects one, and pulls out the contents. She lays a sheet over the sofa, and then she stuffs an accent pillow into a pillowcase and props it against the arm of the sofa.
“Here you go,” she says, waving me over. “A bed.”
I rise gingerly and cross the room to the makeshift bed. She eyes my clothing and frowns. “You should take those wet clothes off.”
“But I don’t have anything to wear.”
She frowns, then grabs another of those packaged bedding sets and pulls out a sheet. “Wrap this around you like a skirt. I’m afraid it’s all we’ve got.”
Lia helps me undress, remaining calm and clinical as she peels the wet clothing from my skin. My shorts hit the floor, followed by my panties. Even my sandals are soaking wet, so I kick those off and shove them under the sofa. My bra and top are still dry, thank goodness.
She helps me double up the sheet so it’s not so long and wraps it around my torso, tucking it in to secure it on my body. “Sorry,” she says. “That’s the best we’ve got for now.”
“It’s fine. Thank you.”
“Has the water stopped?”
“It’s down to a trickle now.”
Lia folds a blanket and lays it on the sofa. “Why don’t you sit on this for a while, just in case.” She brings over the bag of provisions and hands me one of the bottles. “You should drink more water.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “I can’t. I already need to pee.”
“Oh, right. Let me see what I can come up with.”
Lia continues searching the room for something we can use as a toilet. As horrifying as that idea is, my bladder is really starting to complain. I’m not going to be able to hold it forever, especially if I keep drinking more water.
“I’ve got something,” she says, carrying over an industrial-sized, white plastic bucket. “It’s not great, but it will have to do.” She sets the bucket on the floor in the nearest corner. “Want to give it a try?”
With Lia’s help, I manage to squat over the bucket and take care of business without making too much of a mess. “I don’t suppose we have any toilet paper?” I say, hopeful.
She frowns. “Well, shit.”
“That’s okay. I’ll make do without it.”
When I sit back down on the sofa, another contraction hits me, making me double over. “Another one,” I say, rather unnecessarily, as Lia is already checking the stopwatch on her phone. “How long since the last one?”
“Fifteen minutes,” she says. “Shit. This is really happening.”
Chapter 13
Shane
“Just spit it out, Jonah,” I say, my voice hard.
The look he gives me is filled with pity. “Lia thinks Beth is in labor.”
My face grows cold as the blood drains south, making me light-headed. “What? No! She can’t be in labor. It’s too soon.”
Jonah hands me his phone, and I read Lia’s text message.
Lia: I think princess is in labor. She’s having contractions. At first I thought it was those fake contractions, but her water just broke. Don’t tell Shane. He’ll freak.
Freak? Freak doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. I slide down the side of the Escalade until my ass hits the concrete. My mind is reeling. A really bad situation just got a thousand times worse.
If she’s in labor, our timetable just shortened dramatically. The girls could have stayed up there a good long time as long as they had food and water. But if Beth’s in labor… then no. I need to get her out of there ASAP. If she goes into active labor, they’ll hear her. And Jesus! The baby is six weeks premature. I’m not sure exactly what that means for him, but it’s easy to assume he’s going to need emergency medical assistance. “Fuck!”
I text Jake, who’s en route to our location.
Me: You’ve got Jason Miller with you, right?
Jake: Yes
Me: Good. Beth is in labor.
Jake: Fuck
Me: Exactly. Hurry.
Right now, Jason is the best chance Beth has. I don’t know the first thing about birthing babies, other than what I learned watching some YouTube videos with Beth. We had signed up for birthing classes at the hospital, but those weren’t scheduled for another week. I think back to the videos we watched and my gut clenches. I can’t imagine her going through that without me at her side.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the vehicle.
<
br /> “Hey,” Jonah says, laying his hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be all right. Lia will take care of her until help arrives.”
But even if help arrives, it won’t do the girls any good if we can’t find a way to get help up to them.
I shoot Lia a text.
Me: When the hell were you going to tell me my wife is in labor?
Lia: How about now? Dude, your wife is in labor. Contractions are about 15 mins apart.
Me: Find us another way into that goddamned attic.
Chapter 14
Beth
I’m trying not to cry. I’m trying to hold it together. I know Lia’s doing everything she can for us, and I’m grateful to her. But I’m so scared I can barely think straight. I lay my hands on my baby bump and stroke the firm mound, feeling a fleeting sense of relief every time he moves.
My pulse is galloping like a horse. I’m finding it difficult to breathe, but I don’t know if that’s my asthma kicking in, or anxiety, or if that’s part of labor. Every time a contraction hits me, I feel a crushing weight descend on my abdomen, making it harder to breathe, harder to think straight.
Lia brings the shopping bag with our loot over to the sofa and sets it on the floor within easy reach. Then she sits beside me and pats my leg. “How do you feel?”
I let out a heavy breath when the current contraction ends, finally able to relax. “Better. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or not, but it feels like each contraction gets stronger.”
“That would make sense.” She hands me a bottle of water. “Please drink some more. You should stay hydrated.”
“But we don’t have any toilet paper.”
“You’re in labor, and you’re worried about toilet paper?”
“I don’t like to feel wet.”
“All right. I’ll find something.”
Lia resumes scouring the attic for anything useful, missing nothing. She brings back a hammer, a screw driver, a crowbar, and—thank God—a half-used roll of paper towels. She holds the paper towels up in the air. “Voila!” she says. “Toilet paper! Or at least the next best thing.”