They had to right? On shaky knees, I stepped toward the door, I didn’t want to disturb the funeral and I knew if I said a word or cry, he’d probably kill me. For fucks sake he had a gun on me. My smart watched vibrated, alerting me to a message and I glanced without him noticing.
Chuck: The asshole tried to kill me, I have looked into the case. It’s fishy. He also recently went through a nasty divorce. He is not safe. I know you’re at the funeral, so call me after. I’m worried he’s coming for you next.
Holy shit.
Cage pressed the gun into my back now and urged me to move faster. When the door opened to the outside I heard Livy scream my name. He pushed me through the door and down the steps fast. There was another hearse strangely in the parking lot and he forced me to that direction. Once he opened the back of it, there was a coffin in the back.
“What the fuck? I’m not getting in that.”
“Get in it or your family dies with you.”
My pulse sped up, and my stomach twisted like a knife gutting me. Oh my God he planned to bury me alive. Or why else would I be expected to get in a fucking coffin? I wanted to vomit. My mind spun with what to do now, and how the hell I was going to get away from him.
“Please, don’t do this.” I begged.
“Get in the mother fucking coffin!”
Shaking so bad from the buckling fear, I started to get in. I saw the church doors open and saw Tate pop his head out.
I screamed, alerting him directly to me. His eyes widened and Cage pushed me in the coffin slamming it shut. I pounded on the inside of the dark stiff box. There wasn’t much air and it reminded myself to calm fairly quick. Tate saw me. I kept reminding myself over and over. He saw me. He saw me. He saw me. The car started and the tires screeched below me. Cage was angry, and he was moving fast. He saw me. He saw me.
I remembered my watch and pressed it illuminating the light to the extremely dark coffin. Seeing the frilly white material all around me creeped me out. Glancing back to the watch, breathing in and out while trying to stay calm. If I worked myself up, a panic attack in a small, constricted place like this would not be well for me. I called Chuck.
“Paisley?”
“Chuck, I don’t have time. Cage has me in a hearse he kidnapped me from the church. Call Tate Watson, he saw him. Find me, trace my Apple Watch.”
“Holy shit.”
The signal became weak and I lost him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I kept trying to reach back out, but my service was out. We must be on the edge of town or something it’s the only place that doesn’t have service in this damn town. I kept my breathing strategy of breathing in and out in and out.
My phone lit up with an incoming call. It was Tate. My heart sped up again excited to see his name across the screen.
“Tate?”
“Baby, I’m right behind you. Clint and I are in his truck. I can see the hearse up ahead. Are you ok?”
“I’m in the coffin, Tate. No, I’m not ok.” I cried out trying to regain my slow and steady breaths.
“I’m going to get you out of there. I love you. I’m going to hang up so I can focus on getting this done. Chuck called me too. You’re going to be ok.”
He ended the call and I cried hard into my arm. Then I took a deep breath grasping for the little air I had. I heard faint sirens off in the distance. The hearse made a sharp turn and I banged against the walls inside.
He began accelerating again and I assumed it was either he spotted police, or spotted Tate. I hoped it was both. Then I heard commotion until an extremely large bang took place, sending me flying into the wall of the coffin as the hearse jerked back and forth, then like hell crossed over, I was upside down knocking myself to the roof of the coffin, and back down. Then again, and lastly as I hit my head hard, the coffin popped open and the hearse was upside down. My eyes shifted open, blinking a few times as my head thrashed with little spots blurring my vision. Loud ringing in my ears occurred as I rolled out of the hearse. Glass everywhere, I saw a ton of police lights. Struggling to keep my eyes open and alert, I heard my name faint in the background. My head still pounding a mile a minute. I started to feel pain, probably from the jarring of rolling.
“Paisley!” Tate’s body came into view sliding to the ground in the back of the hearse. His foot met the door as he started to kick, hard at the glass, before it shattered fully.
“Tate.” I breathed out.
“Paisley, are you ok? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. I didn’t think I was hurt, just sore with a pounding head. I grunted when he reached in, now noticing the roof of the hearse caved in making the space even smaller. I began to cry thinking of my babies and praying I was ok. Not even in belief of what had happened, I looked at Tate with watered eyes and a pounding head.
His strong arms strapped beneath my arms and yanked me out. A fire truck and ambulance came on to the scene, circling the accident. I couldn’t figure out what had happened there were too many cars around us and police vehicles. I saw Chuck in the distance and knew he played a role in helping.
“Did they arrest him?” I asked as Tate wrapped me in his arms.
“You won’t have to worry about him anymore.” He kissed my head. “Let me look at you.”
“Ow.” A part of my chest hurt and brought me pain when I touched the area.
“Come on, the paramedics are coming.”
He helped me stand to my feet as best as he could as they surrounded me. One assessed me, the other started to wrap a blanket around me and had me sit on a gurney as they wheeled me toward the ambulance. All I could look at was Tate. The scene around me went black and all I could see was my family. All I could think about was my babies and if they were ok. Seeing Livy’s beautiful but scared and worried baby girl face and Jared comforting her the best he could. Then I wondered about Belinda and if they were ok from the funeral. There was a ton of questions I didn’t know the answer to. A million scenarios playing in my head on repeat bringing the vision of my babies’ forefront. I began to wonder if I was in shock. The way my body felt. Pain starting as the initial shock was wearing off. I glanced back at the hearse and saw the full condition of the vehicle with a white tarp over the front half. Assuming what was under it, I cringed. Death of any kind good person or bad, wasn’t to take lightly.
“Paisley.” Chuck walked up to me and Tate. Tate backed him up and shared a few private words out my hearing reach. Then his eyes softened and Chuck walked back to me.
“How are you?”
“Banged up but ok, and alive.”
“Your call to me might have saved your life. On top of this guy here.”
I looked at Tate confused by Chuck’s statement.
“Tate’s vehicle struck the hearse to prevent Cage from driving off the cliff with you inside it. His actions saved your life and I was not far behind because you called.”
I half smiled, Tate saved my life. Then reality took place. Tate kissed my forehead and walked away with Chuck as they spoke to one another. Something wasn’t adding up. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. The paramedic got done cleaning and patching some cuts on me.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
The kind paramedic spoke to me, changing my focus back to her.
“Sorry.”
“We’d like you to take you over to the hospital just to make sure everything gets checked out further there. You can have the gentleman ride along with you.”
“Ok, that’s fine.” I agreed knowing I’d probably regret it if I didn’t go. “Can you let him know he can come with me?” I chin lifted to Tate.
“Yes, I’ll go tell him so we can head out.”
She jumped out of the ambulance and started heading toward Tate.
Then everything started in slow motion. Thinking back to what Chuck said. Tate’s vehicle. Tate’s vehicle struck the hearse. Pieces now coming back together. I heard some firefighters talking with the police on scene. Zoning myself, watching the p
aramedic talk to Tate and Chuck. My hearing circled around the firefighters.
“Yeah, two DOA. What a day.”
Two DOA. I thought and thought about DOA and a light bulb clicked. I stood up and carefully stepped down out of the ambulance. I dragged myself on shaky legs, vomit in the pit of my stomach. I looked around for Tate’s truck. Tate saw me walking and his eyes went from me to them and back to me before he started skirting around them to get to me. My eyes wandered until I landed on Clint’s truck. My eyes focused on it. The truck was beat. Totaled probably. Wait. I looked back to Tate, who was now running for me. My eyes went back to the truck. White tarp on the ground, feet in front of the truck. No. No. No. No.
White tarp.
Smashed truck.
Two DOA.
Totaled hearse.
One dead body.
Two dead bodies.
“Paisley!” Tate wrapped his arms around me pulling me away from the truck.
“Clint.” I screamed. It was Clint’s truck.
I collapsed in Tate’s arms and went plummeting to the ground. Ugly sobs broke out as Tate hugged me harder. My heart slammed into my rib cage, perspiration all over my body from every single nerve ending losing its shit.
“Where is Clint? What’s happened? You said you were with him! No! Tell me he’s ok!” I screamed pounding my fist into Tate’s chest. Uncontrollable blubber as I wept from the harsh reality. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Life came crashing down harder than ever poisoning our lives with such tragedy. Such permanent damage. This couldn’t be real. “Wake me the fuck up! Wake me up!” I slapped his chest.
He was silent. And that’s when I knew.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Forced to go to the hospital and being kept for observation for twenty four hours was pure torture. I couldn’t be away from my kids. Not now. They were with Brooks, my mom, and Belinda. Probably more family too. How does one break the news to their kids their father has been killed? Belinda just lost her husband, how would she withstand another loss as big as her son? My rapid heart pounded almost to the same beat of my thrashing headache. Tate sat in the chair next to the bed. He refused to leave my side. The hurt radiating like an aura, I saw right through him. It was the same one surrounding me as the pain cut through me like knives.
The last words he said to me were kind, sweet ones. Letting me know he was thankful I was there for all of them. As if I had somewhere else to be, other than with my family. I never got to tell him how much he meant to me. Even through the pain he put me through, he was a good guy deep down. I couldn’t help but to think of our last real memory together. It brought tears to my eyes knowing not even a week ago he was bathing me from my vomit and sleeping in my house for no other reason than me asking him to stay. The memories of that night sent chills up my spine. I knew the kind of man Clint was, because of our marriage and the love we had for one another once upon a time. But, that night, I saw his soul in a light I never saw. He had every reason to be different toward me. He didn’t have to listen to Dale, take me home, bathe me, sleep there and pour me coffee the next morning. He owed me nothing. Just to be the father to our two amazing children.
If I thought I didn’t know how to comfort my kids to the loss of their papa, I felt lost now knowing I would lose it trying to comfort the loss of their father. All on account of me. They were saving me. Two brothers who were cut throat at each other over me, and they came together to save me.
Tate informed me Clint wasn’t wearing his seat belt. He didn’t need to tell me anymore for me to know how he died. The only thing that sort of gave me peace, was knowing he died upon impact. By the time Tate had gotten out and checked for his pulse, he was gone. He told me he was so sick to his stomach he moved to find me not knowing if I was alive or not. He said seeing me barely moving made his heart drop. He couldn’t imagine losing his dad, brother, and girl of his dreams. I wanted to hold him, smother him actually, anything to take away the tremendous pain. We both were in mourning and it wouldn’t even compare to the kids. I wondered if everyone at the house knew yet. Had the police informed them? I was so out of it at the scene of the accident that comprehending everything didn’t happen. Tate held me until they forced me in the ambulance to get here.
“Babe, do you need anything? Going to grab some water.”
I shook my head. I needed Clint back. I needed Tate on this hard hospital bed. My mind circled round and round on how our family would overcome this paralyzing tragedy. Reminding me over and over that life didn’t give breaks. Life didn’t slow down. Time stayed the same, moving at a steady pace. We made it day by day by the scars on our hearts to mend what has been broken. The wounds slowly healed, closing up as the time went on. Memories made us remember not the bad, but the good that was.
I stared out the window at the dark, gloomy sky of the night as it poured down rain, drops sprinkling down the glass and the light from street lamp illuminating the glistening wet sparkle on the window. Drowning my thoughts, the only one that stayed in my mind was the kids. My beautiful kids.
“Hi, excuse me?” I glanced over at the doorway assuming another nurse stood to bother me.
To my surprise, not a nurse, but a beautiful model worthy woman in a track suit stood nervously at the doorway.
“Can I help you?” She looked oddly familiar.
“I’m sorry to even bother you. This is very,” she shook her head, “unusual circumstances. My name is Cynthia Oakley.”
Then it all made sense why she looked so familiar. She walked into the room and stood at the foot of the bed.
“I can see why he chose you.”
“Chose me?”
“Cage and I just went through a nasty divorce. He tried pulling his team of lawyers on me to take custody of my children away from me. The judge, whether he liked it or not, I assume not, chose to go in my favor with the case and awarded me full sole custody and placed a restraining order on him indefinitely.”
I shook my head. “Why indefinitely?”
“We never had a good marriage. He had a lot of infidelity, of which I caught on video by my hired private investigator. I held on for so long, for my kids’ sake, as it seems a lot of people do, but the abuse, and cheating about killed me on the inside. After our divorce, he snapped. He left me a message this morning. He told me he was finally replacing me with a woman and her two children that would accept him for who he was. Then proceeded to tell me how you looked like me, how you were his, his assistant too. It was very sinister and his voice was almost demonic, yet he had this sense of, I don’t know, admiration. I contacted the police, since his call violated our protection order. I spoke to some Chuck guy and told him about some stuff.”
“I’m so sorry.” I frowned.
“No, I am sorry. I am sorry that he snapped and you were his victim. It turns out they’re digging up his old assistant Karen’s file, and trying to get permission from the family to see if they could prove the case. Get their peace with it. Nobody believed the suicide. Not when I could prove that he was sleeping with Karen. I want to give her family justice. Knowing it’s proven and he’s dead. Instead of police papers that say she took her life. I am just glad you are alive.”
“Yeah, well my ex-husband was killed in this scheme of Cage’s. So, we can be thankful I am alive, but I lost a good person and my kids lost their dad, the day we were burying his father. I am happy you are bringing Karen’s family justice or making sure the case finds proper closure. But there is no peace in my world.”
“I am so sorry for his loss.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Can you please lock your kitchen slider door?”
Her brows dipped in confusion and eyes stared back at me in question.
“Trying to figure out Cage, I sort of walked through your house to investigate him in hopes I would find something. Anything to help me catch him before he hurt me. Cage never mentioned a family so I wasn’t expecting to see a family pictu
re. Please be safe. If I could easily do it, anyone can.”
“Cage is dead. He’s the only monster I know. Little creepy you were in my house.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound creepy let alone admit to breaking and entering, but I was desperate and I hope you understand that.”
“I do. I will lock it. I hope you heal quickly and get out of here. Go be with your kids and family.”
“Thank you. God Bless.”
She walked out of the room and I about lost it. The fucking guy was sick. So sick. This day could have ended a whole other way. What if I was the one dead? I shuddered even thinking about it.
Tate walked in with a large Styrofoam cup and one for me too even though I told him no. He had two bags of chips.
“You need to eat babe. They’ll make you thirsty.”
“I can’t stomach anything.”
“Me either.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Upon closely looking at me, I noticed his eyes were watery and red around the rim. He was crying.
“I am so sorry, this all my fault Tate. And I can’t bring him back.” I choked on a sob escaping me.
“It is not your fault. It was out of your control, for fucks sake you were in a coffin!”
“I have never been so scared in my life. So helpless. But I should have called and reported it the night at your apartment. If I did, maybe Clint would still be here. Maybe none of this would have happened.”
“Sweetheart, there was absolutely no knowing that he was a damn psycho.” He stepped closer to me. “You know being in the military you see things that you don’t ever want to see. But seeing Clint that night was an image I can’t un-see no matter what. No amount of time or therapy will change it. He was my brother and I’m sorry that I’m not doing a good job about hiding my sadness.”
I blubbered in his shirt as he wrapped his arm around me tight. “I called mama. I don’t know how we’re going to get through this. She is an absolute wreck.”
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