Travis
I woke up to a vacant space where Becky should have been. I sat up quickly, looking around the semi-dark room.
She stood near her dresser, pulling a pair of denim shorts up her thighs. Her hair was wet from a recent shower, cascading down her back, a dark contrast against the milky white of her skin. She hadn’t put on her a shirt yet, so I was gifted with the sight of her black lace bra. She turned her head when I sat up.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my lips twitching a little as I watched her pull a shirt over her head.
“Couldn’t sleep anymore. I’m usually up at this time anyway,” she shrugged, collecting her hair and pulling it out from under her tank top.
Tossing the sheets off me, I stood up, loving the way her eyes tracked every movement, loving how they widened slightly as they roamed my bare chest, dropping to where my shorts hung low on my hips.
Despite how hot it had been last night, I’d left them on—worried I might get caught in a state of undress.
I crossed over to her, putting my hand on her hip and tugging her toward me. “Hey, it’s going to be okay…alright?” I told her softly. Tilting her chin up so that I could look at her with the little light that came through her blinds from the streetlamp outside. “The police are going to find him, and we’re going to keep you both safe in the meantime.”
She collapsed into my arms, resting her head against my chest. She didn’t cry, but I could tell she was affected by my words from the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Before everything happened yesterday, I had every intention on telling her exactly how I felt about her, just in case there was any doubt still in her mind. I knew we had to address the elephant in the room...the tours, the distance, and what that meant for us.
I knew what it meant for me—but I needed to make sure she was on the same page.
Naturally, we hadn’t been able to have that conversation yet. Richie was still out there somewhere, and none of us knew how dangerous he really was. He didn’t seem to mind terrifying women and children, but he’d run like a bat out of hell when I pulled up.
“I need a coffee,” she finally sighed. She held on a little tighter for a moment, then pulled away, gracing me with a small smile. “Do you want one?”
“Yes please,” I replied, bending over to grab my t-shirt that I’d tossed on the floor at some point during the night. I pulled it on, following her as she crept quietly from the bedroom. She paused by Aiden’s door, opening it soundlessly. I heard her exhale softly before she closed it and continued down the hall to the kitchen.
When the coffee finished brewing, I fixed us both a cup before returning to the table. Becky had her phone in her hand, she was staring at the zero missed calls with dejection. I put my hand over hers, prompting her eyes to rise. “They’ll call.”
I heard movement on the basement stairs, and a moment later, Braden came up, quietly shutting the basement door behind him. He was dressed in coveralls for work, his eyes puffy from lack of sleep.
He walked over to the coffee pot and poured some into a travel mug. “I’ll try to get off early tonight,” he said, his voice gravelly from lack of use.
“I’ll be around,” I pointed out, my brow raising. Braden nodded, relief filtering across his face.
“Call me, okay? With any updates at all,” he added, pausing to squeeze Becky’s shoulder before he headed to the front door to put his work boots on. A few moments later, the door closed behind him, leaving Becky and I alone in the quiet of the kitchen.
My fingers twitched with the urge to pick up the phone and call the police station to see if there were any updates on Richie’s whereabouts. Becky must have had the same idea, because a moment later she reached for the card Officer Browning had left and dialed the number.
“Hi, yes. This is Becky Miller. I spoke to you yesterday… I was just wondering if you’d found him yet?” she paused, listening to whatever it was that the police officer said. “Yes, I understand. Thank you.”
She hung up, a dejected look on her face. “What if they don’t find him?” she wondered out loud, looking up at me.
“One way or another, they will,” I promised. I’d make sure of it.
Brock and Tessa pulled into the driveway at eight o’clock in the morning, along with Hunter, waking us from the unintentional nap we’d taken on the couch. I’d fallen slept sitting up with my head on the back of the couch, and Becky’s head in my lap.
The moment they cleared the threshold, Hunter took off down the hallway and laid outside of Aiden’s door, almost as if he was guarding him.
Tessa immediately went to Becky and hugged her tightly. Her amber eyes were overwrought with emotion.
“It’s okay,” Becky breathed, patting her sister-in-law on the back. “I’m okay.”
“Really?” Tessa sniffled, appraising Becky carefully. Aside from the exhaustion on her face, she was calm. Tessa sat down on the sofa, her eyes still heavy with worry.
“How’s Aiden?” Brock asked.
“He’s okay, still sleeping,” she answered. “He knows what’s going on, maybe not in great detail—but he knows that Richie is his biological father. I didn’t want Richie to be the one to tell him.”
When Brock and Tessa were busy talking to Becky, I slipped out front to make a couple phone calls of my own.
First, I called Rob. Out of everyone I knew in the security business, I trusted him the most.
“Hey man, look. I’m going to need your discretion on what I’m about to tell you. I don’t want the label knowing, and I definitely don’t want the paparazzi getting wind of anything. I know it’s kind of your off-time, but I’ll pay you,” I said after he answered.
“Alright. You have my word. What can I help you with?” Rob asked.
“Becky’s abusive ex came back yesterday, he’s made some threats and the police are looking for him. When they find him, they’ll charge him with breaching a restraining order, uttering threats, and extortion.”
“Extortion?”
“He wanted eighty grand to leave town and leave Becky’s son alone, and promised he’d be back for Aiden if he didn’t get it within the week,” I explained, looking out down the quiet street.
“So you want additional security duty, for her and the kid?” Rob clarified.
“Yes, but be discreet about it. I don’t want him to see you. I also need some numbers for private investigators. So far, the police haven’t found any leads on where he is, and I don’t want either one of them to worry. I’d rather see him behind bars as quickly as possible.”
“I know a guy. I’ll text you his number,” Rob replied. “And I’ll be there within the hour, maybe less.”
“Thanks man,” I sighed, disconnecting the call. Before I could go back into the house, Brock stepped outside, a conflicted look on his face. “Hey…what’s up?”
He let the door close behind him before crossing his arms to face me. His jaw ticked with aggravation. “I’m getting tired of waiting. I think I should go to all the local bars. See if anybody’s seen him.”
“You can’t do that man,” I shook my head. We had a history of being brawlers, when it came to protecting the people we cared about, and with his criminal record, Brock had to be extra careful. “I got a number for a private investigator, I’m going to give him a call, and I’ve hired Rob on security duty. He’s going to tail Becky and Aiden, make sure he’s everywhere that they are. Richie won’t get anywhere near either one of them,” I added confidently.
“How much is that going to cost?” he asked, his gray eyes appraising me.
“Does it matter?” I retorted, arching a brow. I wasn’t about to put a price tag on Becky and Aiden’s safety.
Tessa opened the door and poked her head outside. “Hey, breakfast is ready. Come in and eat,” she said. Leaving the screen door open, she walked back into the kitchen.
Brock and I exchanged a terse look before heading inside.
Two days passed without any sign of Richie. Rob’s private investigator, Winston, was on the case, and we’d learned a lot about what brought Richie Anderson back to Parry Sound. Mainly an astonishing debt with the wrong people. But so far Richie hadn’t left a trail to his current whereabouts. Aside from coming over to Becky’s, he hadn’t checked in with anybody else. None of his old friends had seen him, and he hadn’t been to any of the local bars.
Becky was trying not to let the Richie situation disrupt Aiden’s life too much. She’d been taking him to his soccer practices all week, but she was struggling with letting him do anything without her.
On Sunday, Aiden had a soccer game, and Brock’s plan was go as a united front. Becky had a different plan.
“It won’t work,” Brock argued, shaking his head after she’d pitched her idea to us the night before.
“But it might,” Becky argued. “If I take Aiden to the game, alone, and if he’s watching…Richie’s more likely to approach me. If he approaches me, he comes out of hiding, then the police can arrest him.”
“As much as I don’t like it…I think she’s right,” Tessa voiced, Elle nodding along with her in agreement.
“He already knows what’s waiting for him if you guys catch him, and I don’t think he’d sign up for that again,” Elle said, fixing both Braden and Brock with a pointed look. “It’s more than likely that he’ll wait until she’s alone.”
“It sounds risky,” I frowned, not liking the idea at all. There were too many variables, too many opportunities for Richie to hurt either Becky or Aiden.
“I just want this to stop,” she admitted, her jaw trembling a bit. My hand found hers beneath the table, and I squeezed it gently.
And so, it was agreed. Becky would take Aiden to his game alone, and I was going to tail her with Rob, because she was nuts if she thought I’d let them out my sight for one hot minute.
Rob and I were in the black Honda he’d rented, parked in the parking lot across from the soccer field with the air conditioning blasting when my phone rang. “Hello?”
“Mr. Channing? It’s Winston,” the clipped voice said. I had no idea if Winston was a first name or a second name, he’d never found it imperative to tell me. Either way, Winston was the polar opposite of Rob. He was short and lean, with one of those faces that faded straight out of your head. He was inconspicuous, which probably served him well when he was on someone’s trail. “I’ve managed to locate where Mr. Anderson is staying. He’s at the Sound Inn.”
“Is he there now?” I asked, sitting up straight, my hand gripping my phone tighter. I knew exactly where that motel was, as it was one of the places Becky and I had used to secretly hook up at. I could get there in ten minutes.
“No, cameras saw him leaving in the gold car around midnight. He hasn’t been back, but he hasn’t checked out yet.”
“Keep me posted, and do me a favour and drop an anonymous tip to the police department,” I said, ending the call to go back to watching the field.
I could make out Becky’s dark hair against the faint pink of her tank top as she sat in the bleachers, but the kids on the field all blurred into one as they zipped and raced around. Sometimes, I’d catch glimpses of Aiden’s number before he flew off down the field again.
Rob was focused on the sidelines, his dark eyes scanning up the periphery.
Nothing out of the normal happened for the entire game. No strange men lurking on the sidelines, no gold cars driving past the field. And yet still…there was something in the air, an unsettling feeling that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Aiden’s team won, and Becky took Aiden out for ice cream to celebrate with his team, like they always did following a win.
Rob turned the engine on, waiting until Becky’s car pulled out of the parking lot before he kicked it into reverse. “Wait,” I said, a flash of gold catching my eye as a Sunfire pulled out a few parking lots over, following Becky’s car. “That’s him!”
I grew more and more sure each moment that passed that the driver was Richie. He kept two car lengths behind her, and waited until Becky and Aiden had gone inside the ice cream parlour to pull into the parking lot.
Through the windows that lined the front half of the ice cream shop, I could see the blue uniforms of Aiden and his teammates.
Richie was nearing the sidewalk that led to the doors, and I knew we didn’t have much time to spare. Rob gunned it, cutting across the parking lot.
I opened the door, jumping out of the car while it was still moving, tackling Richie from behind. I heard the breaks squeal on the car while we tumbled to the ground hard.
The sound of metal clanging against asphalt rang out. I rolled to my feet and froze when I noticed the gun half an arm’s length away from Richie. We both lunged for it, but Richie’s hand closed around the handle of it before I could reach it.
He tried to twist his wrist to aim the gun at me. I had a good fifty pounds of muscle on him, and I crushed his wrist against the asphalt. He struggled for a moment, trying to free his wrist of my grip, while trying to punch me using his free hand. I deflected his hit easily with my elbow before I punched him in the jaw as hard as I could, knocking him out. His fingers slackened their grip on the gun.
By that point, Rob had come around and was pointing his own gun at Richie, not that he was a threat, given that he was unconscious. I stood up, kicking the gun from beside his hand. It spun across the asphalt, out of his reach should he wake up.
“We should probably call the police now,” I panted, glancing down at Richie’s unconscious body with disgust. I hadn’t had time to do it in the car, everything happened so fast.
Someone already had, I realized as the wailing of sirens grew louder and louder. I looked back at the ice cream parlour, my thoughts on Becky and Aiden, and how scared I’d been for them the moment I saw the gun.
All of the customers were as far away from the windows as they could get, looks of fear on their faces as they watched three police cruisers and an ambulance pull into the parking lot. Becky clung to Aiden, her eyes wide and full of tears, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
They collected the gun for evidence and two paramedics transferred Richie to the stretcher and loaded him up into the back of the waiting ambulance.
“Impressive work, son. If you ever get bored with your country music career, at least you have prospects,” Officer Browning joked. He had been the one taking statements from the witnesses inside the ice cream parlour.
“What happens now?” I asked, watching as the ambulance carrying Richie left, followed by one of the police cruisers. I could see Becky approaching warily with Aiden, her eyes darting between the officer and me. She stopped beside me, and I put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer.
“We’ll need to take him to get assessed at the hospital before we book him, but he’s definitely going to be charged with extortion, harassment, breaching a restraining order, and probably some weapons charges by the looks of it,” Officer Browning explained. “Possibly other charges, depending on what we find out.”
I nodded, relaxing. Winston had found out a lot about Richie already, and what he did learn could very well help incarcerate him.
“He’s gone now?” Aiden asked, straining to see around my legs to watch the police cruiser disappear down the street.
“Yes sir, you won’t have to worry about him anymore,” Officer Browning said, smiling reassuringly.
“Thanks again, Officer,” I said, shaking Browning’s hand firmly.
“We’ll be in touch,” he promised, nodding. He released my hand and strolled over to his partner, who was standing by the tow truck watching as they hooked up the gold Sunfire Richie had been using.
“Are you hurt?” Becky demanded, turning to me, her eyes roaming over every inch of my skin. She grabbed my hand, looking at the bruised and bloodied knuckles. My skin had split from the impact against Richie’s jaw, but it wasn’t overly bad. In fact, I hadn’t even realized I was bleeding until she held it up to inspect.
“A little ice and I’ll be right as rain,” I told her, unable to stop myself from kissing her. I kept it PG, I just needed the feel of her lips on mine to revive me. When I saw the gun, the fear that I was about to lose both her and Aiden had nearly choked me.
“Ew,” Aiden whined, covering his eyes with a grossed out giggle.