Marcus
“NO! PLEASE, NO!”
I open my eyes, startled by the shouting. Looking over at Lydia, I see she’s having another nightmare.
“Lydia,” I say in a gentle tone. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I nudge her slightly. “Wake up, babe.”
Her face contorts in pain as she whimpers and makes more noises I can’t decipher. “Babe, come back to me. Wake up.”
She springs up and looks around. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as she starts to calm with the realization that she’s safe. “I’ve got you. No one is ever going to hurt you again, okay?”
She nods as she pants, the thin sheen of sweat visible when the moonlight hits her face a certain way. I rub her back to soothe her, feeling the trembling of her body. This right here breaks me. I know what it’s like to have something haunt you, creeping into the deepest part of your brain where you can’t get rid of it. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it, and I hate it.
“Are you okay?” I ask her after a while. She lies back down and snuggles into my chest, taking a deep breath before nodding. I hold her tight and rub her arm until she falls back to sleep.
It’s been two months since Lydia was kidnapped, and I’m pleased to say she’s doing amazing and has healed from her injury completely. Well, physically at least. Her nightmares started once she was released from the hospital. I think it provided a sense of security. Her anxieties and fears were clear to see as we drove home that day. She would look over her shoulder constantly like someone was going to get her. I’m sure knowing Stacy hasn’t been caught yet doesn’t help either. Seeing her like this tears me apart. The only time I’ve felt more helpless is when I stood beside her while I watched someone point a gun at her. Her nightmares have tapered off quite a bit with the help of therapy, but they still happen a few times a month. My fear is they won’t go away until we find Stacy.
The bags under her eyes and tired expression on her face from a sleepless night were all I could think about at work the next day. I’ve been driving around on patrol thinking of ways to help her but come up empty.
I decide to check in on her once I come to a stop. Our lives have gone back to normal for the most part. We’re both working and in our usual routines.
Me: Hey. You know those pants you were wearing today?
Her response comes a few minutes later.
Lydia: Yeah . . .
Me: Did you get them on sale?
Lydia: No, why?
Me: Cuz they’re 100% off at my place. ;-)
Lydia: Really? Don’t you have tickets to write or something?
Me: You love it. Don’t lie.
Lydia: Maybe a little.
Me: How’s your day so far?
Lydia: Great! I booked a new client that I’m meeting later this afternoon.
Me: Awesome. I’ll let you go then. See you tonight. Love you.
Lydia: Love you too.
I put my phone away with a grin on my face. I love the shit out of that girl. Now that I’ve got her back, it’s my only goal in life to make damn sure I don’t lose her again.
The day drags on, and I’ve never been so glad to see I only have an hour left in my shift as I am today. I’m cruising down the street when I come to a stop light. I always like to glance around at the cars beside me, but what I see turns my blood cold.
Fucking Stacy.
She clearly saw me already because she’s looking around frantically for an easy escape, but she’s boxed in and can’t go anywhere. My hand moves as fast as possible to turn on my lights. I cut my wheel to the left and pull right up next to her door.
She honks her horn in an effort to get the car in front of her to move. When they don’t, she rear-ends them. I get out of my car and draw my weapon.
“Get your hands up!” I yell at her. She ignores my order. “I said get your hands up!”
Her wheels skid against the asphalt as she floors it and rams into the car in front of her, making them move out of her way as she drives off. Jumping back in my car, I turn on my sirens and chase after her.
“I’m in pursuit going east on Apex Peakway passing the Broadstone Way intersection. I have a positive ID on a suspect in connection with a kidnapping and attempted murder. Suspect is female, driving a silver Honda Accord. I’m too far away to get a plate number. I need backup asap,” I call into dispatch.
“Copy that. Female driving a silver Honda Accord wanted for kidnapping and attempted murder. I need all units in the vicinity to respond immediately,” the dispatcher replies.
She runs two red lights, narrowly missing being hit each time. Suddenly, she makes a sharp right, almost hitting a car in the opposite lane. “She just made a right onto South Hughes Street.”
“Copy that.”
Adrenaline is pumping through my body as I tighten my grip on the wheel. For months, I’ve thought of nothing but this moment. And here she is, within my grasp, and I won’t let her get away. With so much traffic, it’s too dangerous to spin her out without risking other drivers’ safety.
“Fuck,” I say under my breath as she makes another right. “She’s heading for the ninety-five.”
“Copy, suspect is approaching I-95,” dispatch responds.
Two other units are approaching when she cuts across oncoming traffic to get the onramp. “Suspect is going south on interstate ninety-five.”
“Ten-four, we’ve got eyes in the sky. They’ve got her in their sights,” she says.
“Do we back off?” another officer asks.
Fuck no, is what I’m thinking, but dispatch says, “Proceed with caution and give her some space. We don’t want her to cause a wreck.”
My hands choke the wheel as I fight to obey orders. If this were any other suspect, I’d back off no problem. With the bird in the air, there’s no way she can hide and get away. Still, this is personal and I don’t want to leave any wiggle room for her to slip through our fingers.
We accelerate well over ninety miles per hour as soon as our tires hit the interstate. It becomes clear that she’s not going down without a fight and thinks she’ll be able to lose us. She weaves in and out of traffic like she’s Jeff fucking Gordon. She barely sideswipes one car, knocking off its mirror.
“Suspect is driving erratically. Can we get units ahead to clear a path?” someone says over the radio.
“Copy, sending units.”
Lydia.
She’s the only thing on my mind as I stare at the back end of the silver car. I wasn’t able to protect her the first time, and I will not fail her again. Stacy will pay for what she has done if it’s the last thing I do. Lydia will get justice and know that she’s safe from future harm.
My jaw hurts from grinding it as we approach the twenty minute mark of this chase. We’ve had to call into other jurisdictions and let them know what’s going on at this point, and there are more cop cars behind and around me than I can count. I’m not sure how much longer she’ll go, but I know I’ll be right behind her.
“Do we wait until she runs out of gas or try to take her out?” I hear over the radio.
“Who knows how long this will last. We need to take her out,” I say. I need to take her out.
“Too dangerous to do it like this. She’s going over a hundred miles per hour now.”
I pause for a second before I come up with an idea. “Let’s force her off. Set up a road block right after a good exit. She’ll have to get off or stop. Have spikes laid down so if she gets off, she runs those over and we take her in.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s set it up.”
Ten minutes later and the road block comes into view. She hits her brakes and I think she might give up, but guns it and cuts toward the exit at the last minute. A little excitement hits me knowing this is about to be over soon.
We’re on a two-lane road with no turnoffs or places for her to go. Just straight. It’s perfect. A mile down the way, I see cops parked off to the side of the road and know that’s where the spikes are set up. She hits them going seventy miles per hour. Her car swerves to the right before overcorrecting and veering to the left and into the ditch. The car bounces around violently as it traverses the grassy terrain. We all skid to a halt, surrounding her when she comes to an abrupt stop.
I spring out of my car, resting my arms on the top of my opened door with my gun drawn. “Come out with your hands up!” I yell. There’s no response and no movement.
We all hold our positions not knowing what Stacy will do. Several other officers yell at her to get out of the car, but she seems to be ignoring them too. Fuck this. As I’m about to make the stupid decision to go in after her, her driver door swings open. I tighten my grip on my gun, ready for whatever she might do.
“Get your hands where we can see them!” someone yells at her.
Her hands are the first thing we see, followed by her feet as she places them on the ground and gets out of the car.
“Turn around!” I yell, wanting her back toward us. She complies and I go in for the kill. Rushing toward her with others on my tail, I grab her by the shoulder and push her to the ground to arrest her.
Other officers run to my side, their guns drawn but pointed down. “It’s okay. I’ve got her,” I tell them. I stand her up, hold on to one of her arms, and look into her dead, cold eyes. The woman in front of me is nothing like the girl I once knew. The transformation is unsettling and shocking. Demonic is the only word to describe her expression. She looks up at me through her eyelashes with her eyebrows dropped and a sick grin spread across her face. It’s like she’s enjoying this.
“It’s a shame your little girlfriend pulled through. I should have aimed better.” She throws her head back and lets out an evil laugh causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.
My free hand balls into a fist, shaking as my nails dig into my palm. I’ve never wanted to hit a woman so much in my life. Instead, I read her her Miranda Rights and hand her off to another officer before I do something that will land me in jail.
Once I’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork, I get in my car with a huff. The adrenaline that was pumping through my system for several hours has died, and now I’m exhausted. Glancing down at my phone, I see I have a missed call and a couple text messages from Lydia. I was supposed to be home a while ago, so she’s probably worried.
I dial her number and she answers on the first ring. “Marcus, are you okay?” she asks, concern in her words.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I’m on my way now.”
“Okay,” she says warily. “See you in a few then.”
“I love you, Lydia.”
“Love you too.”
Walking up the porch steps to my house, new emotions hit me. I can’t explain it, but something about being able to tell Lydia that it’s over has me a wreck on the inside. When I come through the front door, I’m met with the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t matter how many times I see it, it always manages to take my breath away.
“I got her,” I say, my emotions weakening my voice. She freezes and stares at me like she’s afraid she heard me wrong. “That’s what held me up. I finally caught her.”
Her lip trembles and eyes water. Rushing to her, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to me as she shudders with each tear that falls. I bury my face in her hair and inhale her scent, feeling instantly at ease.
“It’s finally over, babe. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
A sob breaks through the silence as she releases every emotion she’s hidden deep within her to function through each day. Pulling back, her red-rimmed eyes stare up at me. “You really got her? You’re not just telling me that to make me feel better?” She sniffs.
I shake my head. “I’d never lie to you about that. Ever. The detective will probably call you soon to see if you can ID her, but it’s over. You don’t have to look over your shoulder anymore or jump when the doorbell rings. She can’t touch you ever again.”
Leaning down, I kiss her soft lips and taste the evidence of her tears. She takes a deep breath when our lips part. All the tension leaves not only her body, but the whole room. This chapter isn’t closed yet and we’ll have to go through the whole court thing still, but I know she can do it. She’s brave and strong and so fucking amazing. Soon, we’ll be able to put this behind us once and for all, but for now we can go through each day without worry and Lydia will know when I tell her she’s safe, that it’s true.
“I love you so much, babe,” I tell her.
“Show me,” she says.
“My pleasure.”