by Dana Mason
She still didn’t move.
“Please eat something. You have to keep up your strength,” he said again, but Ali lay motionless with her eyes closed.
“Ali, stop this. Sit up and eat,” Mark said.
Her eye’s popped open and glared at Mark. “Fuck you. Get out of my house.”
Mark smiled a teasing smile. “Get up and make me.” Johnny understood that Mark wanted to rouse her into fighting so she’d snap out of this funk, but Ali couldn’t have the strength to fight any more than Johnny. Otherwise he’d get up and knock the hell out of Mark for talking to her like that.
After a long pause, Mark tried again. “Ali, if you eat and clean yourself up a little, I’ll have Sarah bring Jamie over here—but not until you pull yourself together.”
Ali groaned, wiped her face, and opened her eyes. When her eyes met Mark’s, she started to cry again. It must have hit a nerve with him because he eased up.
He knelt in front of her. “You need to eat, Al, and clean yourself up. Jamie can’t see you like this.”
Johnny helped her sit up. When she was steady, Mark handed her a bowl of soup and said, “Eat that first. If you can keep that in your stomach then I’ll give you a sandwich.”
“I hate you,” she said.
Mark smiled at her. “I know, honey, but you’re still eating.”
Johnny looked at Melissa. “Y’all are just one big happy family.”
Melissa and Mark both chuckled and Ali almost choked on her soup.
“What—you haven’t gotten the ‘Fuck you, get out of my house’ from Ali yet?” Mark grinned. “It’s a staple when she’s mad.”
Johnny thought about that and remembered their argument in her kitchen that had ended with them in bed together. He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
“Here,” Mark said, handing Johnny a bowl of soup. “Ditto for you. If you eat I’ll have Sarah bring you some clean clothes and whatever else you need from your house. Jamie can’t see you covered in blood,” Mark said. “You don’t mind if Sarah lets herself in, do you?”
“Hell no, I don’t care.” Johnny sipped the soup. “It’s her house.”
“You’re living in Mark’s wife’s house, but dating his ex-wife?” Melissa asked, her eyebrows lifting in confusion.
This time Johnny choked on the soup. “That ain’t even the best part,” he drawled. “His wife is my ex-girlfriend.”
“Wow—what is that called?” Melissa’s mouth quirked into a grin. “A love square instead of a triangle?”
“We were in the eighth grade. It was some great love affair,” Johnny said. “What about you and Brian. There must be some serious history for you to like him so much?”
“We dated in high school. The same time Ali and Mark dated.”
“And now you hate him?” Johnny asked.
Melissa’s eyebrows rose, but this time in challenge. “When I went off to college, instead of waiting for me, he married my worst enemy. So yeah, I hate him.”
“Well . . . that’s not exactly true. Melissa and Julie were best friends until Julie and Brian got married. They made mine and Ali’s wedding pretty interesting. We weren’t sure who was going to rip whose throat out first.” Mark said, “Melissa was the maid of honor and Brian a groomsman.”
“But they behaved themselves,” Ali said, coming to life. They all turned to look at her and the soup was gone. “Can I have my sandwich now?”
“Sure.” Mark handed her the sandwich and said, “I’ll go call Sarah.”
Johnny finished his soup and took a couple of bites of his sandwich, fighting the self-consciousness he felt as Melissa stared at him.
“Johnny, where is the accent from?” she finally asked.
“Nashville. I moved out here a little over a week ago.”
She shot a glance at Ali. “Wow, you move fast. How did you two meet?”
“I came out here in December to work with Brian on an investigation. I’ve since been offered a job with the Santa Rosa PD,” Johnny explained.
Ali turned her eyes on him and he couldn’t help but compare the sisters. As similar as they were, their differences were glaring. Ali’s expression was softer than Melissa’s and her body fuller, curvier. “Damn, you two look alike.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot.” Melissa grinned then looked sharply at Ali and said, “I can’t believe you’re dating a cop.”
Ali rolled her eyes. “Just stop, Melissa.”
Melissa ignored her and looked back at Johnny. “You moved out here for a job?”
Johnny nodded and said, “Well . . . there were a lot of reasons to be here instead of Nashville. Being offered the job made the move a lot easier.”
“So . . . you moved out here for Ali?”
“Don’t ask him that, Melissa,” Ali said. “It’s none of your business.”
“If you’re sleeping with him then I have every right to ask him questions,” Melissa said.
“—my sex life is also none of your business,” Ali snapped.
“It’s okay,” Johnny said. Melissa was clearly just as protective of Ali as Brian.
“No—it’s not.” Ali glared at Melissa. “Don’t say another word to her.”
Johnny held his hands up. “Okay . . . it’s okay.”
“God, Ali, you act like it’s a criminal offense to want to know about your boyfriend.”
“No, but it is offensive to ask someone you just met personal questions.”
Ali and Melissa glared at each other. To Johnny it looked like a twin standoff. After a full minute, Melissa closed her eyes and said, “I’m sorry.” She opened her eyes and met Johnny’s. “I’m not trying to be offensive. I’m just concerned for my sister.”
He stared at her, his eyes unblinking. Of course he understood her concern. He was the new person in Ali’s life. He expected to go through all the family drills. “I promise you, I won’t hurt your sister.”
Melissa nodded and looked back to Ali, standing. “I’m going over to check on Mom. She’s working herself to death at that volunteer center.” She leaned over and kissed Ali’s cheek. “I love you, sis.”
Ali gave her a half smile and wrapped her arms around Melissa’s neck. “Thank you for being here. I love you too.”
Melissa left as Mark walked into the room. Ali jerked her head toward him. “Is she bringing Jamie now? I’ll go jump in the shower.”
“Can you wait until morning?” Mark grimaced. “I didn’t realize it was after midnight.”
Ali turned toward the clock. “Wow, it’s that late?”
“If you go to bed now and get some sleep, I’ll have Sarah bring him first thing in the morning.”
“Excuse me—don’t handle me, Mark. I am not haggling over time with my son.”
“Our son. And if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you’d agree with me.”
Ali turned toward Johnny. “Do I look that bad?”
“No, you’re beautiful,” Johnny said, fighting back his smile.
“Ali, do you really want me to get Jamie out of bed?”
“Fine. I’ll wait until morning, but I can’t go to bed like nothing’s happened. Not while Micah is God knows where.”
“You should try,” Johnny said.
“The doctor gave you a prescription for pain killers. I’m sure they’ll help you get to sleep,” Mark said.
“No, I’m staying up until we get some news.”
“What if it’s another day, Ali . . . or a week?” Mark said and Johnny met his eyes, wishing he hadn’t said it.
Ali stared at Mark for several seconds, her eyes focused and her brows drawn. “No.” She shook her head, blinking rapidly. “Mark. They have to find him tonight.”
“Ali, sweetheart . . . that’s all the more reason for you to sleep now. You’ll need to be rested when he gets home,” Johnny said.
“We’ll wake you up,” Mark said. “I promise to keep you informed.”
Ali narrowed her eyes. “I want to talk to the press.”
Mark’s eyebrow shot up. “You what?”
She stood and walked around the couch toward the foyer. “Peters said it was the most important thing I can do to help,” she said over her shoulder.
“Ali, wait!” Mark rushed after her and Johnny crept off the couch to follow, but they were too late. Ali had the door open and was stepping out onto the lawn. The press approached Ali apprehensively until she started talking. Once they heard her voice, they swarmed around her.
“I’ll get Peters and Brian. See if you can get her back inside,” Mark said, turning to run back into the house.
Johnny squeezed his way through the crowd and placed his hands on Ali’s shoulders. She was fighting tears, pleading for the kidnappers to bring Micah home. The tone in her voice crushed Johnny. Her heartbreak clear in every word she said.
“I just want my baby back. I don’t care what the reason was; I don’t care who you are or how much it will cost me. I just want my son home safely.” She looked directly into the closest camera. “My family . . . and my life are incomplete without Micah. He belongs here with us.” With that, she broke down, her hands covering her face.
Ali’s crumpled face sparked a barrage of flashes as the reporters all fought to permanently record her despair. The light momentarily blinded Johnny. He ducked his head and wrapped his arms around Ali, holding her as she trembled against his chest.
“Sir, what’s your name?” Johnny heard someone shout through the bright lights. “What is your relationship to Mrs. Hayes?”
Brian’s voice boomed out over the crowd and a hand landed on Johnny’s shoulder. “That’s enough. Mrs. Hayes has had a long day. If you have questions, please direct them to me.” He leaned toward Johnny and said, “Take her inside.”
Johnny walked Ali back inside the house, sitting her down on the couch. She fell back against the cushions, scrubbing her face clean of tears.
“Ali, you shouldn’t have done that,” Mark said. “If you want to talk to the press, we’ll set up an interview.”
“To hell with that, Mark. I want those bastards to know what they’ve done. I want them to know I’m looking for them.”
“I understand . . . but, Ali, we need to be a little more strategic about it.”
“Has the surveillance video been shown to the press? Do they know everything? Is that woman’s face being shown to the public?”
Mark nodded, glancing over Ali’s shoulder as Brian stepped back inside the house. “Yes, they’ve seen clips of the video, and a freeze frame of the women is being circulated.”
“But,” Brian said. “They didn’t question your relationship to Johnny until now.”
“So? He saved our lives. They should know that.”
Brian pressed his lips together before he said, “They do know that, but they didn’t have any details about him or his relationship to you until now.”
Johnny bowed his head, knowing exactly why they didn’t want Ali going off halfcocked and talking to the press. “Putting me in the spotlight takes the focus off Micah.”
Brian nodded. “It may, it may not, but we were avoiding those questions. Now it’s just a matter of time before they figure out exactly who you are.”
Johnny didn’t think it was possible, but Ali’s face paled further. She cleared her throat and said, “You think if we give them details about my divorce and my relationship with Johnny, they won’t take this seriously. They’ll consider this a domestic dispute and believe Micah is just a victim of a dysfunctional family.”
“No . . .” Agent Peters finally joined the conversation. “No, that’s not it. We just didn’t want to give them something else to talk about besides Micah and the photo of the kidnappers we’ve released.”
“Al, it’s not a big deal, but you need to understand, the details we’re discussing with you about the case haven’t all been shared with the press,” Brian said.
Ali closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course . . . I should know that. For goodness sake, I’m an attorney. I’m so sorry—I don’t even remember what I said out there.”
Johnny squeezed her hand. “You didn’t say anything pertaining to the investigation.”
“Ali, it’s late. Go get some rest and you can start fresh in the morning,” Brian said. “You’ll think clearer with some real sleep.”
She lowered her eyes and nodded. Johnny had to wonder what on earth was going through her head. The expression on her face was so disheartening. “Come on, let’s go, sweetheart. You need some rest before you see Jamie in the morning.”
Ali insisted on tending to Johnny’s injuries. She helped him remove the hospital scrubs and made him get into the shower so she could clean the dried blood off his skin. She cleaned his cuts and he washed her hair. Her back and right side were bruised badly. Johnny kissed the bruises knowing he caused them when he pushed her into that parked car.
After the shower, Ali placed clean bandages on his cuts and it was clear she was struggling not to cry. She was fighting with the bandage, her hand shaking so badly she couldn’t hold it steady.
Johnny reached down and grabbed her hand. “I can do this on my own. Lie down and get some rest.”
She looked up at him and tears dropped from her eyes, pure defeat outlined on her face. “Is this my fault?”
“What? No . . .” He slid down next to her on the bed. “Why would you ask that?”
“I complained about him waking me up. I complained about his crying, what kind of mother does that?”
“A human mother, Ali. You were tired. Being a single mother is exhausting, sweetheart. You’re not being punished for complaining. This was totally out of your control.”
“I would give anything to hear him cry right now. Anything to have him wake me up in the middle of the night.”
“I know . . . me too.”
She crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin before curling into his arms.
“Try to sleep.” He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll feel better if you get some rest.”
He held her against him until she relaxed, glad he had her all to himself again.
Chapter Fifteen
Micah’s cries echoed through the house, but Ali couldn’t find him. She searched every room, looked under furniture, checked every closet, and called his name over and over to sooth his terrified crying. “Micah, it’s okay, I’m coming. Mommy’s here, sweetpea.” His cries got louder as she searched, which made her more panicked. “Micah?” She went from room to room, opening one door after another. “Micah?” Every time his name left her mouth, panic rose higher, confirming her worst fear—as if saying the name was a sub-conscious reminder. “Micah!” she finally screamed.
“Ali, Ali.” A warm hand rested on her cheek when she jerked awake.
She brushed at the hand and tried to get up. “I need to check on Micah.”
“Micah isn’t here, sweetheart.” He said it so sweetly and quietly Ali couldn’t help but compare the sound of his voice with the sound of a tune from an old music box. She stared at him and her heart fluttered for a split second.
“Are you awake?” he whispered.
Ali blinked at him and tried to focus her thoughts. “Where is my baby?”
“Go back to sleep, sweet. They’ll come get us when they have news.” He rested his fingers on her cheekbone. “You only slept for two hours.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what, sweetheart?”
“Be the mother of a lost boy,” she whispered. “I’m too weak . . .” She fought to keep control, but now that she had said it out loud, she knew it was true.
“Don’t underestimate yourself. You’ll survive this, and Micah will be home . . . have a little faith.”
“Faith!” The word came out broken on a sob. “Have faith in a world—in a God that would do this?” She cleared her throat and tried to stop crying. “If something happens to him . . .”
Johnny wrapped his arms around her.
“Have faith in yourself and in our ability to get through this. I’ll be here for you, I promise, and if it comes down to it, I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be together. Maybe this is a sign.”
Johnny’s arms stiffened around her. “Don’t make deals with the devil, Ali. You’ll lose every time.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Don’t think you can trade me in for Micah. It doesn’t work like that. You can have both and so can I.”
“I feel guilty for being with you when Micah is in danger—like the universe is telling me I don’t deserve this.” She tried to gesture with her hands, but he held her too close.
“I’ve been waiting my whole life to feel like this with someone. I won’t let you take it away.” He leaned back, his gaze focusing on her. Even in the dark she could see the circles under his eyes and the confusion in his expression. “I thought you weren’t looking for an escape from us.”
“I don’t understand why this is happening. Why? Why my son?”
“Sweetheart, you can ask a hundred times and never get an answer. Fact is if I can’t blame myself then you can’t either. Self-blame won’t bring him home, isn’t that what you said to me?”
Ali nodded, more tears dropped from her lids. He brushed the tears off her face and turned her, spooning her with his hips.
The warmth of his body helped calm her nerves. When he started to hum a lullaby, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
Jamie came into view as they descended the stairs. He was staring into the dining room. It was full of people and his wide, eight year-old eyes reflected the simultaneous awe and fear. When he heard their footsteps, he ran for Ali, almost knocking her sideways.
Ali picked him up and held him for a long time as tears streamed silently down her face. She carried him into the living room and sat down on the couch with him on her lap. Johnny followed, grabbing a handful of tissues out of the box on the coffee table and handing them to her before she let go of Jamie.