Awakening

by Evelyn Montgomery

  My light. My everything. My whole damn world. And a habit I can’t quit, no matter the consequences.

  The door to the bar opens and I look up. A pretty blonde walks through followed by a man with dark features who looks slightly Latin-American. The woman stops, scans the bar, and then locks eyes with me. With a small smile, she says something to the man behind her and gestures for him to follow before she starts to make her way to my table.

  “Justin?” She asks once she reaches my side. I stand and extend my hand as a small amount of hope begins to take root inside me.

  “Brittany?” I hear my shaky voice question, and then she smiles again, making the hope inside me grow bigger and a peace I never expected begin to settle over me. There is a calming presence about her. Something tells me she understands, she’s been where I am, where Rose is, and a tiny piece of my trust hands itself over to her and the man at her side before we even go any further.

  “I thought that was you,” she continues as she shakes my hand and slides into the booth I was just sitting in. I do the same with the man behind her also following que and quickly learn his name is Dylan. “Leo gave me some details, but you know how he can be. When I pressed for too many, he told me he already said all I needed to know, hung up, and then sent me a picture that I’ve got to admit looked like it was taken more than a few years ago. That’s why I wasn’t absolutely sure.”

  I smile sadly and nod my head before taking another sip off my glass and motioning for the waitress. After Brittany and Dylan place their drink orders I notice my hands begin to shake again and slowly lower them to my lap to hide the tremble. Brittany eyes the man at her side and then looks at me, having completely caught on to what I am trying to conceal.

  “It’s OK,” she says softly as she leans in and whispers, “I’ve been there. Believe me, I know what you and your wife are going through, and I am going to do everything in my power to help.”

  I’m about to tell her she isn’t my wife when the door opens again and she walks through. Frazzled, broken, beaten down by our new hellish reality. Rose pauses after she enters and glances around the bar, looking damn beautiful even with the load she is carrying. She catches my eye and quickly makes her way over as I hold her stare and see the panic still sitting in her eyes. The fear still so present behind the way she is desperately trying to mask it. She hasn’t slept much in the three days since he was taken, and I know more than that alone is taking its toll on her.

  “I’m sorry I am late,” she says, as I move over and she climbs in the booth next to me. She shakes hands with the two people in front of us and exchanges hellos, all while my heart races, fucking speeds up leaving me in a trance like it always does every time she is near. I go to put my hand on top of hers under the table but she pulls it away and my heart, it stops, jolts to a halt, and I worry for the damn hundredth time that all of this will take her away from me. Will break us. Make what we had only a heavenly dream that I think back to in years when I come to know, fully accept, that if it wasn’t for my damn curse, ruining every damn thing I get close to, we could have been happy.

  “We’ve found your son,” I hear Brittany say making my gaze immediately snap back to hers. I hear Rose breathe out a sigh of relief as her hand then slides over mine under the table. There she is. My everything. I grab ahold of her fingers tightly and squeeze.

  “Where?” Rose blurts out. “Can we go now? How do you know for sure? Is he OK? Did they hurt him?” Her voice breaks on the last sentence and I pull her tighter against me. “Please, tell me they didn’t hurt my son?”

  Brittany leans across the table as the waitress returns and sets some drinks down. She clutches Rose’s free hand and waits until she has her eye and the stranger leaves.

  “I don’t know,” she admits. “I’m going to be honest. But I can tell you, with all honesty, we have to take this slow. We have to do this right, if we don’t want them to hurt him, if we want to get him back, unharmed, alive, you’re going to have to trust us.”

  Rose sighs right before her body shakes and a few tears fall. “I do trust you, I have no reason not to. But time? How can I trust that? He’s my son.” She hangs her head low and looks at the table just as Brittany releases her hand and sits back in her seat.

  “I lost my own boy when he was just a baby,” she whispers making Rose and I quickly look up. “He was taken from me, just like yours. I didn’t get him back for… a long time,” she trails off as I watch the man beside her, Dylan, straighten up a little in his seat and look at her as well. But his eyes hold something ours don’t. Admiration for a woman’s strength, just like mine do when I look at Rose. We sit in silence for a moment before Brittany quickly changes the subject, “Your son in being held in Cuba.”

  Rose and I still. We look at each other confused and then turn back to the two in front of us. “What?” I hear myself say as Rose lets go of my hand under the table and picks up my drink, finishing it all and waving the bartender over one more time.

  “On a compound that is highly protected, very armed. Which makes a lot of sense because the person who took him is an illegal arms dealer.” Brittany laughs at the irony but I can’t find it in myself to do the same. Rose and I look at each other confused before turning back her way. “We have reason to believe they are American. So how that all ties back to you,” she says looking at Rose, “Or you,” she sternly suggests, locking eyes with me, “we are still trying to work that out. But the only way to infiltrate their group is to go undercover. Luckily, Leo has dealt with a few of this group’s ‘affiliates’ and has already started to work an angle. He will be flying to meet us in Columbia.”

  Us? The question floats through my mind and I can tell it does Rose’s too because she looks at me startled. “My husband,” she says, looking adoringly at the man beside her, “Won’t be in the field, but will set up a base at a house nearby. One owned by the Lombardi family.”

  “Excuse me?” Rose blurts out, cutting Brittany off. “You said ‘us?’”

  She nods and then smiles. A mischievous grin that oddly I have faith in flashes across her face. “I know you have a daughter, Olivia is it?” She asks and I watch as Rose nods. “I hope you have someone you trust that can watch her, because bringing her along is not an option.”

  Rose tenses next to me and I shake my head trying to make sense of everything and grasp some understanding about what is about to happen. Brittany leans over the table, face stern and voice low. “Leo insisted you come along, Gatz. So you don’t have a choice.” I tense and guess I should have expected that. Her eyes float over to Rose. “He was against your engagement on this project, Rose, but I know the pain, the agony, the hell you feel. I made him a deal. You come along as the housekeeper. The maid. You keep your mouth shut, do as you are told, and he’ll let you stay. You got a problem with anything? You talk to me. Leo doesn’t let women in the field unless he has to, and unless he trusts them. Especially after what happened to Maria.”

  Maria? That must have been the voice I heard. But as soon as I am trying to wrap my brain around the fact that Leo just might have actually settled down, Rose speaks. “But, I can’t leave Olivia!”

  “Then you can’t go,” Brittany says as she leans back in her seat. “Simple as that. That is the deal. If it were my son, and it has been, I’d leave what and who I had to even if I didn’t like it. Are you telling me that you can sit here and wait, worry, alone,” she says motioning towards me knowing I am going, regardless of if Rose or I want me to or not. “I sure as hell couldn’t.”

  Rose swallows hard and looks down at her hands. Instinctively I reach across the table and grab ahold of her for strength, for hope, for the damn vindication we both want and need even if it means putting our trust in the hands of strangers and a fucking bat shit crazy mafia boss I never thought I’d see again, but hell if I wouldn’t bet all the money I had on the one tiny fact that if there is anyone that can get us out of this, it’s damn Leonardo.

  “Let me think about
it,” I hear Rose whisper as she clutches my hand tighter.

  “You have 24 hours,” we both hear Brittany say before we look up startled. She gives us a shrug as the table grows silent but I’m an idiot to think any of this works any other way. Snap decisions you have to make when time isn’t on your side and hope they’re the right one is how the game of life is played.

  “Rose,” Dylan says, addressing us for the first time, making us startle and look his way. “I trust this woman with my life. Had to a few times when I didn’t trust anyone. If she says it’s best, believe her. She won’t fail you. Neither will I, or Leo or Justin.” He looks up at me and I give him a nod, thanking him for including me in all of this though we barely know each other. “But you’re going to have to do things, you probably don’t want to do, never thought you’d do and trust we’ll get your son back. I had to do the same not too long ago with her,” he says with a smile and a nod of his head in Brittany’s direction. “Can you do that?”

  I feel her tremble at my side and worry this is all too much for her. I’m about to speak for the both of us when her small voice breaks through the silence. “What do I have to do?”

  Stunned, I look at her with pride before my gaze drifts back across the table. “From here on out, you’ll be known as Rosa Calderon,” Dylan says in a low steady, stern voice not missing a beat. Sliding two passports across the table, we both pick them up and flip through the pages. I look at Rose’s and see her picture, professionally photoshopped with shorter dark red hair and piercing blue eyes. The name Dylan just said is stated at the top and she looks up shocked and stares in my eyes before looking down at mine.

  Luca Siciliano is printed across the top with a picture I haven’t seen in years displayed beside it. I look up to see her confused expression and know I have some damn explaining to do. But the two across the table from us snap our attention back to the present and what’s most important.

  “Here is the address of headquarters you are to meet us at tomorrow morning. You’ll be briefed and fitted with whatever supplies or disguise you need to go undercover,” Brittany says as I watch Dylan and then her rise from the booth. “We’re hoping this takes a couple days, a week tops once we hit Cuban soil, but there are no guarantees. Say your goodbyes and make them count. We haven’t lost a job yet, but, from what Leo told me, this group we’re going up against is ruthless and won’t be taken down easily.”

  She shakes our hands once again, my nerves beginning to get the better of me as I stare down at the picture on my passport. Never did I think I would step back into these shoes with the shit that happened the last time I wore the suit.

  “It was nice to meet you both,” Brittany says as she backs away from the table and I watch Dylan follow soon after.

  Stunned to silence for a moment, I watch them leave before I hear the whimper of the woman I love next to me. Quickly turning, I pull her towards me and try and stop the trembling of her hands. The ones I’ve learned to hold onto for strength.

  “I’m so scared, Justin,” she whispers as my insides quake just as badly as her hands do in mine. “I’m so damn scared.”

  “I know,” I say, as I pull her tighter and wrap my arms around her. “But we are going to get him back, Rose. I swear to you, on my life, we are going to get him back.”

  Chapter 2

  Rose

  It is dark once we make our way home and the silence in the car, although warranted, causes tension to build with each light pole we pass illuminating my tiny street. Pulling up in front of my house, I wait until Justin has put the car in park and then push open the passenger door with a heavy sigh. I expect him to stop me and part of my heart wants him to. But the other half, the one that is mad, furious, scared and worried, it only wants one thing. My son back. And that is something he can’t give me, not right now.

  Pushing through the gate leading up the front walk, I am almost to the front steps when I hear him call my name and stop. “Rose.” It’s a plea. A small peace offering attempting to put whatever this is growing between us, resentment, at ease, if only for a little while.

  I think about turning around and looking. I tell myself I need to, otherwise this tension, this animosity, will only grow and fester. But I don’t. I can’t. Right now, as selfish as it sounds, I am putting me first. And I just can’t turn around and look in his eyes. Not when they would give me hope in a time I’d rather live in despair.

  It’s safer here, remember? Just you and me. No one else to judge us.

  I push the voice aside, the one I haven’t heard in days and really believed might be gone as I go to open my front door.

  “Hey,” Erica says as Justin follows close behind. Her face is full of concern which only grows deeper as she takes in the way Justin and I look in front of her. “How’d it go? Besides the obvious.”

  She stands from her seat in the living room and makes her way towards us. Justin quickly walks past me, shaking out of his jacket and catches my eye. I can’t help looking up and see desperation etched across every one of his handsome features and give him a small smile, all I can manage right now, as his eyes search mine for any small thread he can hold onto bringing us back together. I watch him frown, the hurt that I am pushing him away slowly beginning to wedge its way in between us, and damn it, I know he deserves better but I just can’t give it to him for selfish fucking reason. Turning back to my friend, I close my eyes and feel like a bitch for the heartless way I know I am pushing him aside. Blinking back a few tears, I open my eyes and shake my head.

  “Not good,” I exhale with a heavy sigh. She stands and listens to me retell her everything while Justin makes his way into the kitchen and grabs himself a drink. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops when I get to the part about going undercover. But when I tell her who took Liam, she looks at me confused and completely stunned.

  “An arms dealer? What the hell would they want with a little boy? I mean shit, unless they are building an army for a takeover or some crazy crap. Like in that movie Blood Diamond with Leonardo Dicaprio, remember that?”

  I shudder at the thought of my son actually being used that way and shake my head, ignoring her statement and moving further into the living room.

  “Shit, I’m sorry Rose. That’s just my writer brain thinking up crazy scenarios, I mean hell if I was writing this story, maybe there would be some God awful twist like that. Not that there is,” she tries to say reassuringly. “At least, I hope there isn’t.”

  I look up at her and give her a glare that makes her finally stop talking. Shaking my head, I hear her apologize once again but can’t help the small smile that breaks out on my face because God I love her, and I know she just can’t help it. Plus, as much as the scenario scares me, it wouldn’t surprise me and if heaven had any mercy on us all maybe I could go to sleep and wake up to this all being some stupid scene in a movie or chapter in a crazy book. But I know I can’t.

  “I need someone to stay with Olivia,” I begin to say before glancing up and meeting her stare. “Someone I trust, E.”

  “So, you’re saying Auntie gets a little more one on one time with little Munchkin,” she says with a reassuring grin which eases a little of the tension in my shoulders. “I’m totally here for you. I’ll just have to run home tonight and be back tomorrow afternoon before you leave so I can grab some things.”

  I shake my head, quickly making a decision I never dreamed I would. “Actually, can you take her to your place?”

  Her eyes grow wide before she takes a step back, “I mean yeah, of course I can. But you don’t want me here where all of her stuff is?”

  “If this person knew about Liam, did this on purpose, it means they know about Olivia. I don’t want you in danger. I don’t want her in danger. Maybe it would be better, but I don’t know.” Justin rounds the corner out of the kitchen and stands far off, drinking a beer and taking in what I am saying. His face looks concerned, apprehensive, but he lets me continue and make the best decision I know how to make in a time l
ike this as their mother. “Something about here, this house, feels damn cursed. I don’t know why but taking her away from it all seems… safer.”

  She gives me a small smile and takes a few steps forward to grab ahold of my shoulders. “Whatever you need, Rose. I’ll do it.” Olivia’s cry can be heard over the baby monitor and we both look to the back of the house where her room is.

  “I got it,” Erica says before pulling me into a tight hug and giving me a squeeze offering comfort, optimism, at a time when I don’t feel any. Backing away, she steals a look at Justin and makes her way across the house.

  But I can’t not go to my child. Not when I am leaving and don’t know when I will be back, or…

  The thought causes me to tremble as I follow after Erica and tip toe into Olivia’s room. I walk up beside her to the crib as my daughter settles herself back down and falls back asleep quickly.

  “I promise, Rose,” Erica whispers, as we stand and watch Olivia sleep, “I will guard her with my life, as if she is my own. So don’t feel like you have anything to worry about back here. Go get my little buddy back,” she says, as she turns my way and smiles. “I got this little munchkin, I swear to you.”

  I give her a small smile back before reaching into my daughter’s crib and lightly running my hand over her head. With a heavy heart, I release her and know Erica is right. She’d do anything to protect my kids and I know I can trust her.

  “Now go talk to that handsome man of yours,” she says giving me a slight nudge. “He looks a mess.”

  Rolling my eyes because shit, I am to blame for at least half of that mess, I nod and tip toe back out of the room. When I reach the hallway, I look up and see him standing across the house, staring at old photos on the wall. A beer in his hand and tension evident in his posture, I start to walk his way and watch as he turns when I am almost at his side.