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A Side of Faith, Hope and Love: The Sandwich Romance Novella Collection Page 8
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Page 8
Ah, but he’d gone into the office this morning. Had come straight to her from Chicago.
What would she have done if he hadn’t been there?
The answer was clear. She would have withered into pieces.
How could she have ever thought this sweet red-headed giant was anything but friendly and wonderful?
With one last peck to her head, he took a step backward. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Cam.”
Her heart heavy, she opened the front door and locked it behind her, not bothering to flick on the lights. Her plan was to collapse on the couch, not even worry about changing clothes, and be ready the moment Cameron came back.
She had no clue how she was going to be able to sleep, though. Those boys were out there, maybe all alone. Maybe with some man who could be hurting them.
The thought was almost more than she could take. Tears she’d tried to be tough and hold in check threatened to overwhelm her. Through glassy wet eyes, she tapped on her phone’s screen, setting her alarm.
As she set it on the coffee table, the floor behind her creaked.
Alarm shot through her veins. She whirled around, but hard hands gripped her arms. She tried to scream, but before she could, she felt herself being shoved to the ground.
Her head hit something hard, and a moment later, the world spiraled into darkness.
Eleven
Male voices beckoned her to wake up.
But her brain was so foggy. Rachel struggled to open an eye, but her body rebelled.
Where was she? It felt like she was lying down, a scratchy pillow under her head. No blanket over her that she could tell, because she was cold. Very cold.
The voices grew louder, more familiar.
Was that Kyle? And Sean?
Recognition grabbed at her. The boys were missing. Had she found them? Had she fallen asleep and forgotten?
No, she’d come home last night. Set her alarm and—
The memory of being grabbed and pushed was enough to spur her eyes into cooperation. She opened them and glanced around.
She was in her living room, lying on the floor, one of her funky polyester pillows shoved under her head.
She tried to sit up, but the room was like a kaleidoscope, colors swirling and making her dizzy.
Her colors. From her favorite wall.
Kyle knelt beside her, looking worried but no worse for being kidnapped, or whatever had happened. “Are you okay?”
She started to nod, but shards of pain blasted through her skull. “I think so. What happened? Where were you guys?”
His eyes darted to the hallway and back at her, his voice lowered to a whisper. “It’s my—”
A familiar booming voice filled the room. “Father. It’s his father. I’m here to take my boys home.”
Her pulse throbbed as fear gripped her heart.
The room swirled again, threatening darkness. She forced herself to breathe. In. Out. It was either that or pass out again, and she needed to stay awake for the boys.
Jared Buckner.
The man of her nightmares stood before her. He’d gone almost bald since the last time she’d seen him, only small amounts of uneven burnt orange hair shot out from either side of his head. His dark green eyes, as Irish as they came, were wild, under the influence of massive amounts of alcohol or who knew what else these days.
He’d gained weight too. When she’d met him over ten years ago, he’d been bulky with muscle. She’d thought he was so macho and strong and mature. Now, he just looked paunchy and old.
She’d always wondered what it would feel like to see him again.
Never in a thousand years would she have guessed it’d be in this way.
Fear crowded in, but an unexpected emotion sat right alongside it in her heart.
Pity.
The man before her was not only a beast, but a broken man.
Struggling to sit up, she ignored the throbbing on the left side of her skull. “Why, Jared? You always said Maddie and Kyle were just in the way, annoying brats, remember?” She hated to say that in front of Kyle. Not a great move as a counselor, but keeping him safe was top priority at the moment.
He snorted. “Funny thing. Decided to get me a sandwich the other day, and went to this fancy new restaurant out in Naperville. And what do I see? A picture on the wall of my daughter and son with some man. All smiling and happy and rich, when I had to sell a kidney or two just to be able to afford a sandwich in that dumb place. No son of mine will be brought up to be a spoiled rich kid. Anyway, doesn’t matter. They are mine and I have the right to see them when I want to, how I want to. I’m taking my boys home.”
A flash of silver in his hand caught her eye.
Fear wound around her middle with an unrelenting grip.
He had a gun.
The word boys registered to her. “Boys? You only have one boy, Jared.”
She winced as curse words flung out of his mouth. “I’m not stupid. I come to town looking for Kyle, but then I see you and this boy. You always called me a drunk, but news for you. Drunks can do a little math too.”
She glanced over to where Sean stood in the corner, arms hugging his torso, fear dripping from his face.
Jared thought Sean was her child. Their child. He must have seen them earlier in the week when they were working together on the festival stuff. The boy had the same dark hair as Rachel, but didn’t look a thing like Jared. But then again, Kyle and Maddie favored their mother as well.
Sean was about two or three years too old anyway. He still had a youngish look to him though, and Jared wouldn’t be able to see anything but that. “He’s not either of ours. I’m his counselor. That’s it.”
His eyes squinted for a moment, then his gaze went from her to Sean then back. “I don’t believe you. Why should I believe you? You were always just a stupid liar.”
More curse words flung from his lips. She tried to ignore them.
Jared paced the room, his eyes steadied on Sean, as if trying to decide if Rachel was telling the truth.
Looking at Jared through a counselor’s perspective might actually be a good idea. She didn’t know a lot about the man, except losing his wife had destroyed him. She and Maddie had had a few talks years ago, when Rachel still lived with Jared, Maddie, and Kyle. Before she’d left and called Child Protective Services.
According to Maddie, he’d always been a little “hard”, but not mean. While he would occasionally over drink, he had never hurt anyone.
But when his wife died, Maddie said he went into a tailspin. He didn’t know how to handle the kids. How to clean the house. When he lost his job shortly after, it was the final straw. He only did odd work after that and lived on food stamps and alcohol.
That’s when Rachel had come into the picture.
He’d put on such a nice picture at first. She’d had no clue to his real persona.
But kidnapping—she didn’t think he was capable of that.
Her head finally started to clear enough for her to assess the situation, taking advantage of Jared’s preoccupation with Sean. The clock across the room read four in the morning. Two hours until Cameron came back.
Which was good and bad. As drunk as Jared was, she wouldn’t put it past him to put a bullet in Cam.
She shuddered at the thought. Then again, was that his plan for her too?
The bookshelf that stood near the front door beckoned to her. Her gun was on the top, out of sight. It’d been one of the first things she’d purchased after getting her life back in order and getting a job. She wouldn’t be defenseless in the face of a man any longer.
Some good it did her now.
Her only shot was to figure out what his plan was and keep him talking as long as possible to give her a chance to come up with something. “What are you planning on doing, Jared? Why did you come back here?”
He turned toward her, hunched down, and looked her in the eyes. His eyes, green as emeralds, held
hers hard. There was a troubled soul behind his stare. Hurting and dangerous. He reminded her of a rabid dog, one who used to be well mannered but now was exceedingly dangerous.
She’d spent the last eight years of her life despising him.
Today, despite the terror that seized her middle, all she could do was feel sorry for the man. He’d lost his wife, his job, his kids, his whole life. He didn’t know God. He literally had nothing.
The truth slapped her in the face.
That’s why he’d shown up.
To reclaim the only morsel of life he had left on this earth.
“We’re leaving. And you’re coming with me. I can’t take care of the kids on my own. We’re moving away. Maybe to California or Canada or something. We’ll start a new life, and we’ll be happy.” His wild eyes searched hers, as if begging for her to agree.
“Jared, you can’t—”
He stood and pointed the gun directly at her heart, his soul distant and hard again. “You don’t have a choice. If you don’t come with us, I’ll shoot you and your son.”
Sean.
He didn’t believe her. He’d kill them both and take Kyle.
The memory of holding Lisa, promising everything would be alright, sealed itself in her mind.
She couldn’t let him do that. Holding a hand up, she struggled to get up from the floor. Kyle took a step to help her, but a grunt from his father halted him.
The room spun as she stood. “I—I’ll go. Just, you have to give me a minute. Everything is spinning.”
He shook his head. “We leave in ten minutes. Have to be gone before people start stirring in the morning. We’ll take your car.”
He must not know Cameron had dropped her off. That could be a good thing or a bad thing.
How could she delay him? “I have to go to the bathroom.” Temporary, but it would give her a few minutes to think, at least.
His eyes turned to the hallway, then back at her. “Fine. But if you pull anything—”
“I love these boys more than my own life. I wouldn’t do anything that could hurt them.” The pure truth.
He nodded. “Be quick.”
She walked slowly, making a display of having to hold onto the walls and furniture to keep her balance, even though the room had finally stopped its merry-go-round effect. She’d never regretted painting her wall with wavy stripes until this experience. In fact, if she got out of this alive, she might just repaint it with something nice and simple like grey.
In the bathroom, she did her business but waited to flush, hoping they would think her business was a bit more—complicated.
She glanced at the window facing the front of the house. She could make a run for it. But no way would she leave the boys sitting ducks with that madman.
Rummaging through her vanity, she wracked her brain for an idea.
Oh God, please, give me an idea. Anything. What could deodorant, Q-tips, tampons, and lipstick accomplish besides their obvious uses?
Only one thing came to mind, and it had a snowball’s chance in Cuba of actually working.
But doing nothing was not an option.
Twelve
Five-hundred.
Five-hundred-one.
Five-hundred-two.
Five-hundred-three—Five-hundred-ten.
Whoever came up with counting sheep to go to sleep was insane.
Cameron pressed fists to his eyes, willing the white woolly creatures to get out of his brain. They were jumping all over—multi-colored—some wearing cowboy outfits, others wearing tutus.
And sleep was nowhere to be found.
He glanced at the clock. Four-fifteen. He’d been lying here for two hours and had almost as long left to go.
His body was exhausted. He’d been sure he would fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but something held him awake. Maybe it was worrying about the boys. Sleep would help him be more productive, though convincing his body of that was proving impossible.
The phone jangled next to him, and he lunged toward it, sending it flying to the floor. Rolling off the bed, he grabbed it and swiped the screen, registering the caller ID. “Reuben. Did they find them?”
“No. But they think they might have found the car he was driving. It was parked downtown, keys still in it. They ran the plates, and looks like it was reported stolen about two weeks ago in Chicago.”
Another dead end. “What now?”
“They’re running it for prints. I haven’t heard anything yet though. Not sure how long that kind of stuff takes.”
“Thanks. You still out looking?”
Reuben sighed. “Yeah. I made Maddie go lie down at the house. All this stress isn’t good on the baby. My mom’s with her now.”
“I might join you. I tried to get a few hours of sleep, but it’s not working.”
“I’m driving around the high school and south of town.”
He nodded. “I’ll head north then. Call me if you hear anything else.”
Disconnecting the call, he shoved the phone in the pocket of his flannel pajama pants and threw on his tennis shoes, not caring that he was leaving in his PJs. He should call Rachel, but he didn’t want to wake her. He’d take a break and come back and get her in a few hours.
He took the stairs two at a time, grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge, a sticky note and a pen from his office, then closed the front door behind him.
He scribbled a message and left it on the door, just in case Rachel was crazy enough to walk over early, or if by some miracle the boys came here. Leaving the door unlocked, he headed to his car and started it.
Leaning his head on the steering wheel, he closed his eyes and begged God to show him where to look. “God, you know where those boys are. Please, help me—”
His car sputtered, interrupting his prayer. Cameron blinked, not believing the light smoke coming from his hood and the warning lights flashing on the dash of his two-year-old SUV.
Just great.
He got out, slammed the door, and opened the hood. The stench of oil and gas mixed with hot smoke charged at his face like an army pushing him into retreat.
Anger surged through his veins. He turned around and punched the garage door, sucking in his breath as pain exploded in his fist.
“God, seriously? Like this day could get any worse?” None of it made sense. He needed sleep. God said no. He needed to drive and look for the boys. God said no.
He turned his face up toward the dark sky, lit only by the sliver of a moon. “Look, God. I have no clue what you are telling me to do, but you’re obviously telling me what not to do. I’d appreciate it if you could clue a guy in.”
Rachel’s face came to mind.
Without much thought, Cameron stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked down the street toward her house. She was probably asleep. But maybe not. If a light was on, he’d knock. Maybe she could make some sense out of all this.
When he was a house away, something halted his steps.
From one of the windows, a string of white gently swayed out the window, like it was waving at him.
A light shone in the living room, but his muscles tightened as he glanced over to the window again. Behind the dangling white strings, something in pink was written on the inside, blinds closed behind it.
He took a few steps closer until he could make out the words.
HELP Call 911 It’s Jared.
Alarm slammed through him. Jared. The name rang a bell.
Where had he heard that from—
Dots connected. Jared was Maddie and Kyle’s dad. Rachel’s Ex. The guy who had beat her and—
He shoved a hand in his pants pocket for his cell phone but came up empty. He’d left it in his car. Stupid!
Crouching to his knees, he crawled up to the living room window, ignoring the thorny bushes that clawed at his skin. Peeking through the glass and sheer curtains, he could make out the figures. Both boys. Rachel. And a very tall, burly man with what looked like a gun, but it was hard to tell
from this angle.
Fury coiled in his veins. Every cell of his body wanted to barge into the room, take the man down, and beat him to a pulp. But only the knowledge he would probably lose and put everyone in even more danger held him back.
Now was not the time to be hot-headed.
He whispered a prayer then glanced around. All the surrounding houses looked dark. He could try to wake someone up, but that would mean leaving Rachel. And he wouldn’t do that.
No car sat in the driveway. Did they have a way to leave? Or had Jared somehow parked a car in the garage? But no, the police had just found the car.
Cameron ducked so he couldn’t be seen through the window, and, hugging the side of the garage, made his way to the side door. Peeking inside he saw—
Rachel’s car? How—?
He shook his head, scattering his questions. It didn’t matter how. Getting Rachel and the boys safe was all that mattered.
Maybe he could go around the back of the house. If Jared went into a different room, Cameron could get Rachel’s attention. Let her know help—if he could be called that—was there.
He made his way around the back and peeked in the sliding glass door that led to the kitchen.
Jared stood in the living room, his back to Cameron. The boys both sat on the couch, arms crossed, cheeks red from tears, fear etched on their faces.
His eyes swept to Rachel. She stood on the far side of the room next to the bookshelf in the living room.
There was no easy way to do this.
Except…
No. It was stupid. Probably insane and might get him killed.
But it was the only idea that came to mind. Sitting and watching them get murdered or worse wasn’t an option.
Lord, please protect Rachel and the boys. If I could come out of this alive, that’d be great too.
***
Her gun was only two feet away from where she stood.
But reaching up, opening the case she kept it in, and loading it with Jared right there would never work.