Chapter Twenty-Nine – Go Down
Swinging
Carly
It only took me a few minutes to recognize the man who had a hold of me. I remember him as one of the two men sitting in my father’s office that day I barged in. One of the men was the man I was linked to for the rest of my life, Blake, and the other was this guy. He has a face you never forget, even if it took me a few minutes to connect the dots. There’s just something disturbing about the way he stares; like he’s plotting something sinister, something you don’t want to know anything about.
I went willingly into the white van parked behind the café, but only because he had threatened my daughter. Not knowing what this man was capable of, I wouldn’t risk her life by doing something stupid like screaming for Blake or trying to make a run for it. The man never brandished a weapon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t carrying something. And I’m not in the mood to find out the hard way.
Natalia has been fussy ever since we got into the van. It is well past her afternoon naptime, and it has been a long day for her. Top it off with hours of fresh air, and I’m dealing with a cranky baby girl on top of a kidnapping psycho. Awesome.
“Shh,” I whisper as I bounce my daughter on my hip again. We’ve been inside a small garage for a little bit now. Since I left my cell phone in the diaper bag under the stroller, I have no way of knowing what time it is or how to summon Blake to come rescue us. There’s rusty car parts and dirt as far as the eye can see, and no way in hell I’ll let Nat down to explore. She’ll wind up slicing her hand on a piece of sheet metal and needing a tetanus shot.
“Shut her up,” he says harshly while glancing out the side window one more time. I have no clue who or what he’s looking for, but I have an idea. A very pissed off six foot four ex-football player turned FBI agent. I can’t imagine this is going to end well for the man in front of me when Blake finally catches up with him. Throw in his brother, who is an agent as well, and I imagine two raging Thomas brothers are hunting us like a pack of rabid dogs as we speak.
“I’m doing the best I can. She’s tired and hungry,” I tell the man, every bit of his exposed arms covered in dark intricate ink. I turn Natalia around and try to walk between the pieces of car parts. It’s not only past her naptime, but also has to be dinnertime. To make matters worse, when I took her inside the café to change her, I only grabbed a diaper and wipes. Her snacks and juice were left in the diaper bag with the stroller as well. With Blake.
It’s getting late and the sun is going to set soon. The longer we’re here, the less likely it’ll be that Blake finds us before something bad happens. The thought of not making it out of this situation turns my stomach. Not just for Natalia, but also for Blake. Knowing him as well as I think I do, this is something that he’ll forever blame himself for. There are so many things I never got a chance to tell him. My plan was to invite him over for dinner tonight so we could talk. Natalia has missed him like crazy and she would have loved to spend the night playing and snuggling with him. Every time the door would open, she would get all excited and take off for the kitchen, but for the last few days, she was only met with her grandma at the door.
And Natalia wasn’t the only one who has missed him. I have missed him, too.
I have missed him a lot.
I realized these past three days that I truly couldn’t blame Blake for not telling me about who he really was. It was a necessary safety net when it came to his job. If I’ve learned anything about him in the past month, it’s that he’s loyal and honest to a fault. He would never willingly deceive me without good reason. And I have to admit that his life is a good enough reason for me.
Late last night I also realized that Blake didn’t use me to get close to my father. I probably knew it all along, but sometimes it takes that bolt of lightning straight to the head to shock you into seeing the big picture instead of focusing on your anger. If Blake ever used our conversations as fishing exhibitions, it was because he was doing his job. My father was–is–the criminal here, and Blake’s job is to make sure the criminals of the world are taken off the streets so they can be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Never did I feel like those nights I spent wrapped up in Blake’s strong arms were because of anything other than him wanting to be there. Him wanting me. It’s a revelation I wish I had shared with him at three o’clock this morning when I was wide awake and missing him something fierce. Hindsight.
The thought of never experiencing Blake’s arms around me again makes my heart bleed. My vision blurs with unshed tears as I think about never telling him how much I love him. He told me a few days ago, and I threw it in his face like an insult. As if his words didn’t mean anything. But the thing is, those words meant everything to me. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time, hearing him say those three little words will forever be tattooed in my brain. So will my response before I walked away.
If I see Blake again, the first thing I’m going to do is throw my arms around him and kiss his full lips. If I close my eyes now, I can almost picture him standing before me, all broad and sexy in his dark blue jeans, tight black t-shirt, and worn leather jacket. His hair is slightly mussed from the breeze, and his emerald green eyes shine brighter than the sun reflecting off dewed grass. His jaw littered with a day or two’s growth. His tattoo–the one he got that represents his loyalty to his job, along with the wildflowers–on full display. My fingers itch to trace the outline of the eagle just once more. If I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him, it’ll haunt me for the rest of my days. Blake and the love we could have shared will always plague me.
I can’t–no, I won’t let this end without speaking the words I need to say. I will do whatever it takes to make it back to Blake. Not only for myself but for our daughter.
Natalia is curled up against my chest, fighting sleep with everything she has. Little whimpers fill the quiet garage space as she does everything she can to keep herself awake. I smile at how her stubbornness is the spitting image of Blake’s. She has so many of his personality traits that it’s not funny.
“Are you going to tell me what you want?” I ask, seemingly putting on my big girl panties and looking for a way to get us safely out of this situation.
“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“Who he really is.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, sweetheart, you may be okay with it, but I am not. Blake is a snake in the grass. And like any no-good snake, the only way to get rid of it is to cut off the head.”
“So, that’s it? You’re going to kill him? For what? Because he was smarter than you and took down the entire organization?” Baiting the criminal might not be my brightest idea, but I’m running out of options here.
“Funny you’re defending the man who put your father in prison.”
“My father put himself in prison when he chose the life of crime and theft. Blake was just the agent who helped bring him down.”
“Yeah, well I can’t get over it as quickly as you, sweetheart. I’m still pissed as hell. But I have a way of ensuring that Blake does exactly what I want. I’ve got his girl and his daughter. Now, I hold all of the cards.”
“What are you going to do with us?” I ask, afraid of what the answer might be, but I have to know what I’m up against.
“That’s up to Blake. If he cooperates, your daughter will lead a full, healthy life, and you’ll be there to see it. If he doesn’t, well…let’s just say that today is the last day you’ll ever see.” The look in his eyes tells me all I need to know. This man isn’t joking. He isn’t fooling around or blowing smoke up anyone’s ass. He’s serious. Dead serious.
“What is it that you want?” I ask swallowing the lump that is lodged in my throat.
“To have a little chat with Mr. Thomas,” he says while pulling a long barreled revolver out of the back waistband of his pants. “You see, I started to suspect that ol’ Blake was hiding something a few months ago. Oh, he was careful, that’s for sure. I didn’t find anything in his apartment that led me to his true identity. It wasn’t until the night that the cops showed up that all of the major pieces started to fall into place.”
The man turns his full attention to me. Natalia finally quiets down in my numb arms. “But I had been following him. I watched him come and go from your place several times, and it wasn’t until a few days ago that I really pieced together the fact that your kid was his. Suddenly, I realized I had a nice little insurance policy. A bargaining chip, if you will.”
When he steps towards me, I see a shadow fall momentarily over the window before quickly disappearing. I try to not look, keeping my eyes focused on him as much as possible so that I don’t tip him off. But in my peripheral vision, I see movement. My heartbeat picks up to near stroke level, but I do everything I can to school my facial expressions.
“I have a feeling Blake is searching for us right now. Hell, I’m counting on it,” he says with a malicious smile. He doesn’t point the gun at me, but he holds it firmly in his right hand.
I take slow, deliberate steps backwards as to not draw attention to the fact that I’m moving. “How long are you going to keep us here?” I ask. Keep him talking. Keep his focus away from the window, away from the door.
“Who knows? Could be an hour, could be a day. Hell, it could be a week before the big bad FBI finally get their thumbs out of their asses long enough to find the girl of one of their own.”
Movement behind the man catches my attention. The doorknob is moving. The air practically crackles with anticipation and nervousness. My entire body is alive with fear as I tuck Natalia as closely to my chest as possible. She actually passed out a few minutes ago, and her dead weight is wreaking havoc on the deadened muscles in my arms.
My leg bumps into a small engine on a stand. It’s not much, but I should be able to shield my daughter and most of myself behind the engine when things go down. And I can practically feel it in the air. Things are about to go down. The man before me must sense it too because suddenly, the gun is being raised. I don’t think, I just move. Just as I get Natalia and myself tucked behind the hoisted car part, the door blows apart. Smoke fills the garage quickly as shouts echo off the walls. While I can’t make out what they’re saying over the wails coming from my suddenly awake daughter and the men filling the garage, I know one thing for certain: this man isn’t going down without a fight.
A single gunshot fills the air causing me to inhale quickly. I tuck Natalia under my chin and try to shush her with a soothing tone. But I’m sure at this point there is no soothing my fifteen-month-old daughter. Another gunshot rings out a second later followed quickly by several more. My heart is practically exploding out of my chest as the tears stream down my face; mostly from the smoke bomb released inside the confines of the garage. The whole scene feels like the longest moments of my life, but in reality, it all happens in a matter of seconds.
Suddenly I’m being picked up from my crouching position. The green eyes that stare at me, along with his build, are the same as Blake’s, but I know instantly that it’s not him. His scent is wrong and the way his hands wrap around me feels foreign, but friendly.
“Keep your head down,” he orders. The voice is familiar. Not because it belongs to the man I love, but because it belongs to his brother. I remember him from the night I met Blake.
I do as I’m told and am carried outside and into the setting sun. Natalia cries loudly against my chest as Luke carries me towards the back of a big SUV. “Are you all right?” he asks, setting me down only long enough to open the doors.
Luke deposits me on the hard surface, instantly checking me over for injuries. “I’m okay,” I mumble through coughs.
“Talk to me, Carly. Natalia. Is she okay?” he asks me urgently. His green eyes are wide with concern.
“I think so,” I tell him as I begin to check over my daughter. She appears completely fine except for a small red bump on the front of her forehead. When I jumped behind the engine, I think I might have hit her head and my arm on the unforgiving hard surface.
Luke tries to touch Natalia’s head, but she pulls back. “Is she alright?” he asks.
“I think so. It’s just a little bump.”
“We’ll have her checked out as soon as the ambulance gets here. And you? How’s your arm?” he asks, indicating to the red, scraped flesh on my right forearm.
“I’m sure it’s fine. It looks like just a scrape.”
“You’ll get checked out too,” he says before turning and looking towards the garage.
“Where’s Blake?” I ask as I follow his gaze to the garage. Men are filing out, but the activity appears to be high energy.
“Don’t worry about Blake,” he says but won’t meet my eyes.
“Luke?” I say, desperation seeping from my entire body. That one word hanging between us like an anvil.
Blake’s brother takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he focuses on me before saying the words I’ll never forget. “Blake was shot.” That’s also the first time I notice the blood on his hands.
Blake’s blood.