Brawler (37 page)

Waking up in pain sucks. But I have shit to do; no more waiting. I had two goals today: save my baby and get these women home. They each told me their names, where they’re from, and what they are studying in school. They tended to me when I couldn’t do it myself, and quite frankly, I’ve had enough.

The thing about plans is they change. All day I waited. I was ready, and neither of them came down. No food, no water, nothing. Now I’m pissed. According to the women they were always fed, so now I have to wonder what’s changed and how that affects all of us.

Sometime during the night Ben and number three are yelling again, and from the sounds of it, maybe even fighting. Good, I hope they kill each other. When they don’t, I decided that if they don’t do the deed, I will. Once they quiet down above, I in turn calm the women down promising I’ll keep them safe.

Problem is, as I started to drift again, I wondered if I made a promise I am not going to be able to keep. The pain is excruciating, and every breath feels like someone is peeling the skin from my back. As if my back wasn’t damaged enough already. Two of the girls cry themselves to sleep, while one stays close to me, and the other speaks to herself. Just as sleep is beginning to take over, my husband’s words come back to me, wrapping me up in their meaning.
“There’s nothing sporting about survival, Macy.”

I let my husband’s words dull the pain and make a decision. One way or another, tomorrow men are going to die. Whether they came down here or I go up there, it is going to happen.

 The next day starts with a bang, literally.

Jolting awake I hear yelling again. The girls are huddled around me as I try to identify the noise. It sounds like someone threw a metal garbage can against a wall. As soon as the noise happens it stops. Minutes later Ben comes down the steps and the light hurts my eyes. Approaching me, he kneels down and looks sad. When he touches my face, I try to bite his hand. You treat me like an animal, I’m going to act like a fucking animal.

“Shit, Macy,” he says. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

“Fuck you, Ben,” I snarl at him. “I haven’t got shit to say, so either finish me off yourself or send number three down to do the job. You’re trying to take something good and taint it. I’m not down with that. We were friends, yet you allow a man to beat me? Have the fucking balls to do it yourself, you fucking pussy.”

“I told your husband his days with you were numbered,” he whispers. “I tried to warn him, but did he keep you safe? No. I even sent you a text to apologize. Could you even bother yourself to forgive me? No. You refuse to do something simple, and because of that, my hands are tied.”

“You’re hands haven’t been tied, bitch,” I growl. “Mine have. You think that piece of shit is going to break me? You don’t know me, Ben. Not even a little bit. Send number three down. I don’t have time for you.”

“Macy, please …” he begs.

“You come any closer, I’ll fucking break your nose. Get the fuck away from me.”

“I tried everything I could to avoid this. I didn’t want you hurt. If you had just given me what I had asked for, none of this would have happened.”

“So this is
my
fault?” I growl, and yes, deep down I knew its creation and purpose was my fault, but not this. ”I wanted to help people. You can’t even understand that, can you? So, what, you were hoping one day I’d just spill? You can’t even finish your own work without me, let alone your —”

That’s when it hit me, this was never about Ben finishing anything. It was always about my work. Ben showing up, asking for help, following me everywhere.

“I can’t believe all of the time I invested with you was for you to betray me like this, Ben. How could you?”

“I did what I was told to do, Macy,” he whispers. “Falling for you wasn’t in the plan, but how could I not? I tried to keep you safe, but first Briggs, then the fuckwit you hated then married? What about me?”

“What about you?” I snarl at him. “You do what you’re told like a bitch? Who’s the one giving orders, Ben? Was it you that set me up? Give me that, at least. It’s obvious you have no plans to let us out of here, so say it, fucking tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then you are of no further use to me.”

Defeated, he stands up and leaves. Just as he reaches the steps he turns back and seals his fate for good. “I’ve loved you a long time, Macy. Everything that I’ve done, I did for you.”

“Is that right?” I offer. “Sounds to me like you are just like the others, claiming to love me, yet hurting me. You put your hands on me. You left your mark, Ben. You’ll pay for that, too. My husband is coming for me. Think what you want, but it’s your days that are fucking numbered.”

He doesn’t say another word, just climbs the steps and slams the door. With that the girls are crying again, trying to pull me back into the safety of the dark, but I am done hiding. While Ben was standing there staring at me, I subtly cased the basement. So the moment he hangs his head and walks up those steps, I run over to the bench, crawl up onto it, reach high, and grabbed the hammer someone was nice enough to leave out, and then settle back onto the floor to wait for number three.

I tell the girls to stay back and stay quiet. No crying, no screaming, and under no circumstances, do they distract me. Finding that place within myself, I search for Jonas, our baby. I search for Venessa and Rogan, and I search for strength. So when that door opens and the light floods in, I open my eyes and mumble to myself, “Come and get me, motherfucker.” And then I wait.

P
ulling up to the house, Rogan and I each take a turn scouting the location and the neighborhood. Once we determine no immediate threat, he pulls further down the road, parks, and we head over on foot. Rogan will have my back while I go in and get Macy. Venessa and Jules are in my truck down the road using satellites and listening for activity. Approaching the house, it’s quiet. Too quiet. The only light is coming from above the kitchen sink like whoever here is already asleep. It’s nine p.m.; no one is sleeping.

Two cars are in the driveway. One is in fact Ben’s, and the girls are running the second plate now. Rogan meets me around back and tells me we ain’t getting in through the front, so we decide to go in through the back. No motion detectors are present, and all is quiet.

Getting in was too easy. It’s like Ben never even considered the fact he could be found. Rogan whispers in my ear “Stolen plates,” so whoever else is here is an unknown. Making our way through the kitchen the only other light is coming from the basement. Jesus, why is it always the basement?

Nodding to Rogan, I head down while watches for threats coming from the back. As soon as I open the door I hear women yelling, like there’s a cage match in the basement or some shit. The women are cheering, and when I get to the bottom I see why. My wife is bludgeoning the unknown with a goddamn hammer and is so focused on it she doesn’t see Ben approaching from behind. When I push through the women Macy looks up, then down at the unknown, drops the hammer, and runs straight to my arms.

Three maybe four steps before reaching me, time stands fucking still. Just as I reach for her, Rogan reaches me then, Ben screams her name and she turns around, almost shocked to see him so close. Grabbing her right arm to pull her behind me, he raises a pistol, and I raise my own in kind. Needing her out of the line of fire I try to pull her behind me, but he looks right at her and fires just as she says “No.”  It is like a sonic boom goes off down here. His flash of light followed by mine. She staggers back, then keels over, holding her stomach. At the same time Rogan tackles Ben, then takes one look at Macy holding her stomach, then at me, and yells “Go!”

The women rush Macy trying to help, but I push them away. Picking her up she tries to scream, but holds it back long enough for me to get her upstairs and on the couch. Tossing my phone to one of the women I yell “Dial 911!”

Rogan comes back up and nods his head to me, kneels next to me, and watches as I remove my wife’s hands from her stomach.

“No.” I whisper.

“Jonas,” she says, barely. “I’m so sorry.”

“Princess,” I whisper. “Stay with me, please.”

“Love you,” she says. “You were worth the wait.”

“Princess, no.” I cry when she closes her eyes.

“Bullet wound to the stomach,” she whispers. “Internal bleeding, hemorrhaging.” Then the tears start to silently fall. “The baby, Jonas.”

Just then I hear sirens, followed by Venessa screaming for Macy to wake up. Picking her up gently, I hold her to me while Rogan gets the door and Jules takes care of the women. While the EMTs secure her to a gurney, the women are arguing with Jules to take them with her. Whether she does this or not matters little to me.

Rogan approaches, letting me know he’s staying behind to deal with the cops. I nod in thanks then climb in, holding my wife’s hand. As the driver hits the gas I hold her tight, refusing to ever let her go.

I
’ve seen some shit in my life. Though I ain’t seen nothin’ like a women protecting her baby like Macy did hers. Swinging that hammer with one hand while holding her belly protecting her young with the other. My focus was on Macy until I saw four women screaming and cheering her on. When she ran to Rafe I was able to breathe. Then in a second I lost that breath when I saw Ben shoot her in the stomach.

Never in my life was I prepared to see something like this. Rafe fired six shots into that fucker and I thought for sure that piece of shit was as good as dead. Looking back on it now, I wish I had fired a few rounds myself. While Rafe waits outside of surgery with Venessa, Jules, Max and the women Macy rescued, I’m on another wing sitting in another lobby waiting to hear if Ben Freeman makes it out of his surgery.

Rafe thinks I’m typing up loose ends, and in a way, I am. If Ben survives, I may end him myself for what he put them through. It’s not enough he fucking shot her, but she was drugged and beaten, too. Venessa and I are in constant contact, and she said Rafe ain’t doing good. She said he needs his partner, so I make a decision to give my attention to Rafe, knowing I’ll be coming back to Ben later.

Heading upstairs my angel runs to me and starts sobbing into my chest. Just like Macy used to do before Rafe fixed her broken heart. Rubbing her back I tell her I need to get to Rafe. Nodding, we head over to him together. She’s trying to hold it in to spare him, I get it, but fuck, it’s all I can do to hold it in myself. Especially when the doc comes out to see Rafe before I get a chance to talk to him.

The doc says a few words, puts his hand on Rafe’s shoulder, and Rafe says something back. Pulling Venessa with me I catch him before he falls. “Talk to me, Partner,” I beg him, while Venessa and the others crowd around.

“Lost our baby,” he whispers. “Begged him to save my wife.” Looking up at me, he looks me in the eyes. “Lost my baby, Partner,” he whispers. “Can’t fucking lose my wife.”

“She’s strong, Rafe,” says Venessa. “Strongest person I know. She’ll come back.”

“Look at me, Partner,” I ask him, and when he does I pull him into a hug, “She loves you, she’s strong, and she’ll come back for you.”

“How’d you do it?” he asks. “When it was Venessa in there? How’d you fucking do it?” Grabbing onto me, he balls his fists into my shirt and I tell him the truth. “My partner came to me, told me my woman was tough, that she loved me, that she’d come back to save me. She did partner, and yours will, too.”

“The baby,” he whispers. “How do I tell her? How do I fix this?”

“Together, man,” I whisper back. “You’ll do that shit together. When it gets to be too much, you got us. Ain’t no one gonna let you two go it alone. You got my word on that.”

Nodding, he drops his head and walks back over to the plastic chair and collapses in it. Venessa is next to him offering silent comfort, and he holds onto her like she’s his only link to sanity. When Jules approaches, I tell her I’m headed back down to check on Ben and remind her not to say shit to Rafe yet. She agrees, then resumes sitting with Max and the girls.