by Dana Mason
A few minutes later, Ali walked out of the living room and faced them. She nodded and said, “He agreed.” Her face was red hot and set into such a deep frown, Johnny was afraid to say anything.
Brian looked at his watch and said, “Thanks, Ali, I know you don’t want him here, but it’s better if we can keep an eye on him.”
She closed her eyes, exhaled heavily and said, “Just keep him away from me or I may be the one getting arrested.”
Johnny stood and moved aside for her to climb the stairs. She didn’t even look at him as she passed. Okay, so she was pissed at him and he couldn’t blame her. It was stupid to go after Carl like he did.
He walked into the bedroom behind her and approached as she parted the curtain to look out at the reporters lining the street. He wrapped his arms around her but she stiffened at his touch. Damn. Her, not wanting him was enough to turn his blood cold.
She bowed her head and said, “What were you thinking?”
“What was I thinking? The son of a bitch accused me of planning Micah’s kidnapping.” He withdrew and paced away from her. “I’m sorry but he had it coming.”
“What’s going to happen if you can’t control yourself around him? I need you here. If you provoke him, he’ll screw everything up . . . he’ll talk to the press out of spite alone.”
“I know . . . but it’s hard to watch him play husband and father. I can only take so much.”
She turned to face him, obviously fighting tears. He hated seeing that look on her face. “You promised me . . . you promised to be here for me.”
“You’re right,” he whispered, coming back to her and wrapping his arms around her again, this time she gave into him. “I’m a bastard and I don’t deserve you.”
“He’s the bastard.” She pushed back and looked into his eyes. “And yes, you do. Don’t say things like that.”
His eyes dropped and he said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “You really don’t get it do you?”
The bottom fell out of his stomach. “What are you talking about?” The look on her face was teasing and now he felt like the butt of a joke he didn’t understand.
“I love you, you fucking idiot.”
Two things happened at once. His chest nearly exploded with the most intense sense of need . . . and he felt a little insulted at being called an idiot, but he knew which emotion he wanted to address first.
His feelings for her were sure, solid, and causing lack of sleep since the first time he’d met her. That’s why he’d hopped in his pickup and drove three thousand miles to be with her, but he didn’t think . . . didn’t know . . . and didn’t understand why she would fall for such a redneck fool like him.
“Do you think . . .” Her voice grew thick with tears. “I could ever—ever choose Carl after you have shown me what this feels like?” She squeezed his hands to emphasize her point.
He cupped her face, wanting to kiss her, but she stopped him and said, “Repeat after me . . . I know Ali loves me and I am good enough for her.”
“Very funny,” he whispered and couldn’t keep the grin from popping up on his lips.
“Not funny, true.” She kissed him lightly. “Say it,” she said, pulling out of the kiss.
Johnny shook his head.
“Say it,” she gave him a gentle slap on the cheek.
“You’re pushing your luck, woman.”
“Say it!”
“I love you . . .” he drawled.
“I know Ali loves me . . . and I am good enough for her,” Ali repeated for him, and then she slapped him a little harder.
“Good lord, woman—you’re driving me crazy.” He kissed her again with more passion this time, pulling her off her feet and into his arms. “I love you so much—I could eat you alive right now.”
He felt her relax in his arms, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the relief of him returning her feelings or from pure and simple exhaustion.
“Then say it,” she whispered, a hint of pleading now coming through in her voice.
“I know Ali loves me and I am good enough for her.”
“Thank you,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.
She loved him. “I know Ali loves me and I am good enough for her,” he whispered again, ready to stop doubting.
He’d let her down today, bad, and that was unacceptable. It was just too hard to take it easy when her ex-husband was under the same roof—ha! He had to laugh. Both her ex-husbands were under the same roof. Fuck!
An hour later, Johnny tried to convince her to go downstairs with him to eat. She couldn’t find an appetite to save her own life. How could she eat when she wasn’t sure if her baby was being fed? God she missed him, and Jamie too. She wanted both her boys home.
“Don’t hide from Carl, this is your house. If you stay up here and hide then you’re letting him get the best of you,” Johnny said.
He was right, but that didn’t make it easier. Carl wouldn’t hesitate to send Johnny to jail if he were given another chance. What if he couldn’t contain his anger when faced with Carl’s mocking condescension? She shook her head, Carl’s words still grating on her. “I hate him. I’ve never hated anyone like I hate him right now.”
“What did he say to you? The look on your face when you came out of that living room was murderous.”
“It doesn’t matter, but please, just don’t provoke him again. He has no problem sending you to jail.”
When they got downstairs and walked through the dining room, Carl and Mark were sitting across from each other. It looked like a stand-off.
“What’s going on?” she asked Mark, not looking at Carl.
“Carl watched the DVD of the kidnapping.”
Ali turned to Carl and realized how pale he was, almost green. The room grew quiet then Carl looked up at Ali. He reached for her hand, but she jerked away quickly. Johnny’s hand tightened on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Carl muttered. “Were you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
Carl looked at Johnny. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t realize . . . thank you.” He lowered his eyes. “She might have been killed if you weren’t there. Thank you.”
“It’s not your place to thank me,” Johnny said. “I protect what’s mine.”
A chill drifted over the four of them and Mark’s eyes flickered to Carl, but Carl’s only response was a slight nod.
Johnny turned her and led her into the kitchen. When they were away from Mark and Carl, Ali took a deep relieving breath.
“You okay?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah, fine.” She nodded meeting his eyes. “I’ve never seen him like that. I hope he finally realizes how serious this is.”
“I imagine he’s never seen you like this either.” He chuckled. “You’re scary when you’re mad.”
“I’m not usually so . . . physical. I guess I’m a little over emotional these days.” She gave him an apologetic smile.
He chuckled and tugged the fridge open. “It’s great foreplay, Ali-cat. I kinda like it.” He took out a covered dish and examined it. “What would you like to eat?”
“I would rather not . . .”
He gave her a sideways stare and pulled out a different casserole dish. “I’ll pick,” he said, replacing the first dish and closing the fridge.
While he prepared plates of food, she walked over and stared down at Micah’s highchair.
This house . . . her life felt so empty without her little boy here. In a million years, she couldn’t picture herself moving on without him. She hugged herself and closed her eyes, and tried to remember life before Micah, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to live in a world without him. Her heart ached painfully in her chest. Her baby, her sweet little boy . . . how could someone hurt him?
Ali’s stomach lurched and she felt a prickling in the center of her back, her thoughts centering directly to her sister.
; “Melissa?” As soon as Melissa’s name left her lips, a sense of dread seeped through her.
She turned quickly and rushed into the living room, leaving Johnny behind. “Melissa!” she shouted, and rounded the corner to the living room where she found Brian standing with his wife Julie, and Melissa. Both women had their hands over their faces and heaving shoulders from their hysterical crying. Brian looked like the walking dead with his straight, pale face. He watched them cry, concern and confusion etched on his face, like he wasn’t sure who to comfort first.
When Ali laid eyes on them, her heart fell into her stomach. She crossed the room to her sister. “What’s happened?” She asked, wide-eyed. “Oh my God, Brian—what happened?” She felt on the verge of hysterics herself. Melissa would never breakdown in front of Brian unless something awful had happened. “Lis, what’s going on?”
“Ali, come sit down,” Brian said in a measured voice.
“No—no, tell me what’s happening.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall and Mark rounded the corner into the living room looking frantic. “Ali!”
“What the hell is going on?” she said, a little bit of her control slipping. “Brian—Mark, what?”
Brian reached for her arm. “Ali, they’ve found something.” He swallowed hard and more stress lines broke out on his forehead. “They’re not positive and we have no reason to assume—“
“Assume what—has Micah been found?”
Johnny placed a supporting arm around her. “Tell us what the hell is going on.”
“A body has been found, Ali,” Brian said. When Ali didn’t respond he emphasized, “An infant’s body.”
. . . an infant’s body.
These were the last words Ali remembered hearing when she woke from the darkness. She tried to focus, but various voices rang around her, most of them hushed, but all carried that underlying hint of stress.
“You should have waited, Bri,” Mark said. “Should’ve—“
“Wait for what? I had to tell her. We can’t let her hear shit like this on the news and not warn her first. And what if we’re wrong? What if it is Micah?”
“It’s not Micah, it can’t be Micah.” Melissa’s weeping voice came from a distance.
“Denial isn’t going to help matters,” Brian said.
The arms around Ali tightened. “Ali, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Johnny’s tone made Ali want to wince. This was not the sweet, musical voice she loved, it was hurt, scared.
“Alison?” Carl said.
A snarl ripped from Johnny’s chest. “Back off, Hayes.”
“We should call an ambulance,” Julie said. “Brian, she’s not coming around, she might have hit her head.”
“Bennett caught her before she hit the floor, she couldn’t have hit her head.”
A hand cupped her face. “Sunshine, can you open your eyes?”
She tried to turn toward his voice but her body felt so heavy she wasn’t sure if her efforts were working.
“She’s moving. Back up and give her some room.” Mark’s commanding voice overshadowed the others.
Soft, warm lips touched her face near her ear. “Ali, sweet, can you open your eyes?” Johnny whispered after kissing her cheek.
Ali shifted, turning into his chest to hide her face. Reality drifting into her consciousness . . . a reality she didn’t what to face. She wanted to hide in Johnny’s chest until the world around her disappeared, until everyone around her forgot she existed and forgot she was the mother of a lost boy—of a dead boy.
Chapter Twenty
Ali squirmed and tried lifting her hand, but it dropped back to her lap with a thud. Seconds later an animal-like, gut-wrenching, snarling scream broke from her lips.
The room filled with sympathetic gasps then a ringing of voices called her name. Johnny felt the scream straight to his gut, like a sucker punch he never saw coming. When everyone started talking at once, he stood and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn’t need an audience for this. She needed some peace and a moment to breathe.
She trembled violently as he carried her up the stairs, and the more she trembled, the more frightened he became. What if he lost them both? Ali and Micah.
When her hands gripped his shirt, he felt a hint of relief. She was coming around slowly. “Ali, sweet, it’s okay. I’m here and your sister’s here. Can you open your eyes?”
He gently lowered himself onto her bed and leaned his face against hers. “Alison, please open your eyes. Let me see you.” When she took a deep shuddering breath, so did he. He looked up into Melissa’s red rimmed eyes, not sure what to do next.
When Ali inhaled again he said, “That’s good. Take another deep breath.”
“Should we take her to the hospital?”
“With all those reporters out there trying to get a story, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny said as he stroked her hair and rocked her. “She’s hardy eaten anything. I made her a plate last night, but she only took a couple of bites.”
“Have you eaten? You look almost as bad as she does.”
“I’ll eat when she eats,” he whispered.
“Did you hear that, Ali? He won’t eat until you do. You better come out of this and eat before he starves,” Melissa said.
Ali jerked when Melissa said her name.
Johnny squeezed her softly. “Ali, can you open your eyes now?” He propped her up a little better and gently brushed her face with his hand. “Some of her color is coming back.—Sweetheart, please open your eyes.”
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to focus.
“Hey . . . there you are. Welcome back, baby,” Johnny said when she made eye contact. “How are you feeling?”
Melissa stepped up, placing a wet cloth over Ali’s forehead. “Hey, Sissy.”
“What happened,” Ali croaked out.
Johnny’s eyes squinted. “You passed out. Do you remember anything?”
She shook her head trying to focus on Melissa again.
Melissa ran a hand through Ali’s hair and gave her a tight smile. “You scared the hell out of everyone. I’m going to run downstairs and tell them you’re awake so they’ll stop pacing holes in your floor.”
Ali turned back to Johnny.
“Hey,” he said sweetly.
“Are you okay?” Ali asked.
Johnny shook his head and gripped her to his chest. “No, I’m not okay.” He tried to catch his breath. “You scared the daylights out of me.” It was all he could do not to sob.
“Hey,” she slurred. “I’m okay.” She lifted her hand and rested it on his bowed head. “Johnny,” she said in a surprisingly clear voice.
He pulled back to look at her, trying to see her through his tears.
“Is my Micah dead?”
He frowned and said, “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
When her sobs slowed, Johnny said, “I’ll let you up but go slow, you might be dizzy, okay?”
“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said, leaning up into a sitting position.
“Don’t apologize, but take care of yourself. Eat, please.”
“The thought of eating turns my stomach.”
“Believe it or not, it turns my stomach too, but we still have to stay strong. I promise to try . . . if you promise to try.” He reached out for her when she tried to stand. “Just go slow, your body needs another minute to recover.”
Ali inched off the bed slowly, her mind settling on the baby’s body they’d found.
“You okay now?” he asked, looking up at her.
“Weak, like I’ve been beaten up. You didn’t knock me around while I was out of it did you?” She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t follow through. “I’m sorry. Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll hold it together so I can be here for you too.” She pulled his worried face to her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
She stroked his hair with trembling hands and took several deep breaths. “Do you think . . .” She tried to put
some conviction behind what she wanted to ask. “Would I feel it if Micah were dead? Would I know . . . would I feel it in my soul?”
Johnny shook his head and shrugged. “I didn’t feel anything when my parents died. Once they told me, I felt empty and kind of . . . shocked, but I didn’t sense it beforehand.” Johnny pulled his head back and looked up into her eyes.
Ali cupped his wet face in her hands. “I love you.”
He cleared his throat and whispered a harsh, “I love you too.”
“I want to go talk to Brian and Agent Peters.”
When she swayed, he gripped her tighter. “Are you dizzy?”
She nodded and brought her hand to her forehead and leaned over trying to get her bearings. “I’ll help you get down there, just go slow,” he said.
When they entered the dining room everyone looked up at her with pity on their faces.
“Hi,” she said, looking from person to person.
Almost all of them said, “Hi,” in sequence with each other.
Johnny helped her sit down in one of the high backed chairs then sat next to her.
She waited until Agent Peters was off the phone before voicing her questions. When he hung up, Ali said, “Do you have any news yet? Anything on the body that was found?”
“No, we’ve sent over a picture, we’re waiting for the coroner to confirm or deny.”
“Do you think it may be Micah?”
“I can’t speculate, Ali. I would love to be able to tell you for sure that it’s not him, but we can’t be sure and I won’t give you false hope.”
“Brian?” Ali said in a tearful voice. “Can you speculate? Do you know anything . . . an educated guess? Anything?”
The cloudiness in Brian’s eyes made her stomach turn flips. He was scared too, he couldn’t hide it as well as he thought. “Some of my guys got a look at the boy and they don’t think it’s Micah—but, before you get your hopes up, none of them have seen Micah in the flesh so they can’t be positive.”
“The coroner will compare Micah’s weight and height and any birth marks with the information you gave us and the information from his pediatrician,” Peters said. “We’ll know for sure in a few hours. If there’s any question someone will have to go identify the body.”