Taken - Before her very Eyes (2 page)

“Sabrina,” she muttered, breaking
the trance she was in. If it wasn’t for the shared custody, Summer would’ve
sold the house and taken off far from here. Far from Chatham. Far from Southern
Ontario. Hell, she would’ve trekked halfway across the country just to place
some distance between herself and the memories of that brutal night five months
ago. But even if she had full custody she couldn’t. At least not for a few more
days. Not until that bastard, John Scott—Summer shivered just thinking about what
that madman had done—was locked away for a long time. The mere thought of him
sent her body into convulsions. Her muscles twitched and trembled as anxiety
and fear gripped her heart, squeezing until she surrendered.

She glanced in the lighted vanity
mirror and sighed. Her normally glowing skin had turned pale and sickly. Her
face nearly disappeared, hiding behind the veil of white-blond hair. Normally
she spent an hour styling it, but lately she couldn’t be bothered. Wash and go
was all she could muster. Her physical appearance had changed drastically over
the last months, that was, except for her bright green eyes. They reminded her
that she was still somewhat in control, no matter how lost she felt these days.

She flipped the mirror closed and
stared out the window. Summer watched as the painted autumn leaves fluttered
along the deserted downtown sidewalk, tumbling and twisting, dancing upon their
invisible stage. It was Monday morning and the stores were all in darkness. Not
a single sign of life could be seen. The only figures on the sidewalks were the
bags of trash set out for the early morning pickup. She glanced at the clock
and shook her head at the smothering darkness that not only stole away hours of
outdoor activities, but also caused her chest to tighten slightly.

Summer closed her eyes and drew a
deep breath.

“Everything’s all right. I’m all
right.” She blew out her breath as she repeated the technique. “Relax. Deep
breath. I’m free. Nobody’s gonna hurt me.”

Slowly Summer opened her eyes.
She did feel better. The restriction in her chest was subsiding. After all,
this was her home, where she’d grown up and raised her child. This was a safe
city. It wasn’t Toronto with its murderous gangs and random drive-by shootings.
This was sleepy old Chatham, Ontario. Nothing bad happened here, except…  The
image of John Scott flashed in her mind and she quickly blocked it out.

She turned her attention to the
large elephant-ear leaf tumbling, end over end down the sidewalk to her left.
She watched as the wind quickened its journey toward her. A few drops of rain
landed on the window, slowly striving to the bottom. Summer scanned the empty
street for a matching tree, but nothing fit. It was all alone. Running—no,
escaping the city at night.

“What is this, a sign?” Summer
glanced to the heavens. “Run, while I can?”

These last few months had been
trying. She felt oversensitive, like everything held a secret meaning, a hidden
message for her. Maybe it was just paranoia, but as she watched the leaf make
its great run, she could see herself chasing right behind.

The radio powered off, sending
the car into deafening silence. Summer quickly jostled the keys, cranking them
back and rejoining the song in play. The green glow of the clock illuminated
the car once again. 6:05. He was late.

When she glanced back to the leaf,
she gasped as a hand shot from a garbage pile near the corner of the building.
It reached out, snatching the large leaf in mid bounce.

Summer wrapped her arms tightly
around her body, holding the shutters to a minimum. After settling her nerves,
she leaned to the window, watching as the dark hand gripped the leaf by the
stem, rotating it slowly between its blackened fingers. Side over side it spun,
suspended in midair, prevented from continuing on its journey. She swallowed
hard, trying to dislodge the lump which was blocking her throat.

“That’s… my life.” Summer
swallowed again. “Caught… spinning… controlled.”

She watched as the black fingers
manipulated the leaf and wondered why a vagrant was living on this street. As
hard as she tried, she couldn’t recall ever seeing a homeless person living on
this side of Chatham. Sure there were a few rundown areas in the city where
homeless people migrated, but never downtown. The police made sure of it.

As Summer concentrated on the
dirt covered sleeve, she realized that nothing stays the same. Everything
changes, and if you refuse to change with it, it’ll destroy you. She only had
to look at her trembling hands to know this was true.

His blackened fingers slowly
worked their way up the stem, delicately sliding onto the crisp dry membrane of
the leaf, carefully feeling each vein as they thinned toward the tips.

Maybe he needed help, Summer
thought, realizing she needed to change her direction in life. She reached for
her purse. Maybe a few dollars for a hot meal?

After removing a twenty from her
wallet, she reached for the door handle, but froze when his dark hand clamped
down, crushing the brittle leaf within. Quickly she checked the door lock then
returned her attention to the hand. It was kneading, crushing, disintegrating
the leaf within. The hand shook. The arm shook. It was as if he was laughing,
uncontrollably, as he crumbled the beautiful form.

The dirty fingernails rolled
beneath his thumb as he continued to grind the leaf into obliteration. It
wasn’t until the next gust of wind came erupting down the empty sidewalk that
his fingers slowly opened, releasing the fine powder upon the breeze, sending
it sailing into the darkness.

Summer felt a chill move through
her body. She reached out, twisted the keys and the engine roared to life. The
urge to escape flooded her body. Suddenly she didn’t know why she was sitting there
on this street, what she was waiting for, only that she needed to get away—and
fast.

As she stepped on the brake and
placed the car in gear, a red Mercedes came screeching to a halt in front,
nearly clipping the front corner of her slowly moving car.

“Shit!” Summer slammed the wheel.
She didn’t know if she was angrier at the driver’s reckless behaviour, or at
her own irrational thinking.

The man threw open the door and
leapt quickly to his feet. Summer’s heart caught for a moment. Her mind flashed
back to that night five months ago. She knew she was overreacting. After all,
John Scott was sitting behind bars under heavy guard waiting for her to ID him.

“Summer,” Dean yelled, racing up
the sidewalk. His dark curly hair, which was always a little too long, caught
in the wind and obscured his chocolate brown eyes. Hastily he brushed it back,
holding it against the wind with one hand. He smiled as he reached the window,
his perfect white teeth gleaming against the dark growth of stubble on his
face. “I know I’m late, but it wasn’t my fault.”

“Don’t give me that look!”

His smile faded.

“It’s never your fault, now is
it?” Summer listened to him jingle his car keys, an old habit that drove her
nuts on a good day. But today wasn’t even close.

“Dean, if you don’t stop shaking
those damn keys, I’ll—”

“Sorry.” He clamped his other
hand over top. “Hard habit to break.” He pointed to the red Mercedes where
Sabrina had propped herself in the back window. Although she had Summer’s
petite build, she would never be her spitting image. Dean’s chromosomes had
fought the battle and won. Sabrina had emerged into this world with dirty blond
hair and eyes the colour of weak tea. The only evidence that Sabrina was her
daughter, were those commanding eyes, which had absorbed enough green to almost
glow. They were the first thing people noticed and the last thing they
remembered.

“Do you like it? Sabrina helped
me pick it out.”

She smiled at Sabrina and felt
the tension begin to fade. She noticed the trembling in her limbs had
subsided.  “It’s nice. Expensive, but nice.”

“Since I gave up the house and my
Volvo,” Dean stepped closer to the window, “I needed something to drive.”

“What about my old car? What’s
wrong with it?”

“No offence, but it was a piece
of shit. They actually wanted me to pay them to take it in for a trade.”

“You traded my car for that?”

“Your old car wouldn’t even pay
for the licence plates, let alone a fraction of the cost.”

“But it was my car. You had no
right selling it.”

“I gave you this car. You should
be happy.” Dean’s mouth tightened into a fine line as he started jingling the
keys again. “It’s a hundred times better than that piece of shit you’ve been driving
around in.”

“This,” Summer pointed her
twitching finger at the jingling keys, “is exactly why we’re separated.”

The rain began falling harder,
driven by a gusting north wind. Dean abandoned his hair and flipped up his coat
collar. “We’re not separated. We’re just taking a break,” he turned to check on
Sabrina and muttered, “because of you.”

Summer glanced in the rearview
mirror and saw her face growing red with anger. Her crimson cheeks stood out
like stop lights against her shoulder length blond hair. She took a deep breath
and decided to change the subject.

“Why do you do this?” Summer
forced a smile for her daughter then turned to Dean. “I was perfectly clear.
You could have Sabrina for forty-eight hours, then bring her back.”

Dean scuffed his white running
shoe along the sidewalk. She knew he was taking a minute to calm himself down
and when he looked up again, he ran his hand up his forehead, slicking his hair
back, then motioned to Sabrina. “I know you’re gonna say no,” he tipped his
head slightly, “but Sabrina really wants to stay for another night. I can drop
her off tomorrow morning instead.”

Summer caught the little signal.
She turned and Sabrina popped up higher in the back window, clasping her hands
together in a mock plea. Although it was a staged act, she felt her heart ache
over her daughter being torn between them. She wanted what was best for her,
but if she gave in today, he’d ask every time he had custody.

“No, and how dare you put her up
to this!” she said through a gritted smile. “You’re lower than low using
Sabrina against me.”

“I’m not using her. She really
wants to stay.” Dean reached through the window and touched her arm.

Summer jerked away and sat
staring at her arm as if Dean had somehow harmed her. As hard as she tried, she
just couldn’t stop her body from reacting like that. It was an involuntary
reaction and one that had fuelled many fights. John Scott was the real reason
they were here squabbling over custody times. He was the reason they were
separated. He was the reason she couldn’t tolerate her husband’s touch anymore.
Sure they promised to stay together until death, but after what John Scott had
done, she felt like part of her had truly died.

“Sabrina’s devastated that we’re
not a family anymore.” Dean scrubbed the stubble on his face. “She doesn’t
understand why we can’t live together at home. I tried to explain it, but—”

“What, that her mother doesn’t
want her father around anymore?” Tears filled her eyes. “That I don’t want you
around!”

“No.” Dean shook his head. He reached
toward her arm again, but left his hand hovering inches above, unwilling to
chance rejection once again. “I’d never poison her mind. That’s not fair—”

Summer’s cell phone rang. Glad
for a distraction, she rummaged through the centre console until she found it.
She quickly flipped it open and glanced at the display. “You’re a piece of
shit!
This
,” she shoved the phone before his eyes, “isn’t playing fair.”

Dean glanced from the caller ID
on the cell phone, to the back window of his car. “I swear I never told her to
call you. She’s been playing with that thing all day. She actually called my
contact in Detroit. Luckily he wasn’t there—”

“Hi Sweetie.” Summer waved. “Yes,
I can see you, too. Why don’t you climb out and see how fast you can get inside
this car?”

The image of the vagrant
destroying the leaf flashed like a warning shot. Maybe she was overreacting?
Maybe she needed to up her dosage of medication? Hell, maybe she didn’t really
know what the hell she needed.

“Actually, maybe you should wait…”
She leaned forward, looking past Dean, eyes darting to the pile of trash where
she’d last seen him, but his hand wasn’t protruding anymore. He probably
covered up because of the rain.

“Daddy took me to try on cars
yesterday.” Summer turned to see Sabrina bouncing on the seat. She had the
biggest smile on her face and Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen
her daughter so exited. “Do you like the one I picked out?”

“Did you pick the colour, or did
Daddy?”

“It’s red,” she waved the back of
her hand across the window, “like my nails. You done a good job, Mommy. The man
at the car store, he liked them. He said they were pretty like me.”

“Well, he was wrong.” Summer felt
the warmth of tears building in her eyes. She relished the feeling Sabrina
brought to her world. The feeling that only her own flesh and blood could
bring. Summer dropped a hand to her stomach, feeling the slight bulge below her
jacket and sighed.  “They’re not pretty. They’re beautiful.”

She giggled and flopped out of
sight. “Daddy told the man that, too.”

Summer glanced at her husband,
realizing how much he truly loved Sabrina. He’d always been able to make her
laugh and smile. He always knew exactly how to brighten her saddest days. Even
after the incident with John Scott, when Summer had confined herself to the
bedroom, unwilling to face Dean and the entire world, he’d brought happiness to
Sabrina. Maybe she’d been too hasty with the separation? Maybe she needed to
face her demons head on? She thought of the small fetus growing in her belly
and realized that in four months she’d have to do exactly that.