Page 54 of Capturing Hearts

“We’re here because I’m trying to decide if I’m taking you as hostage with me to Canada or not.”

A piercing pain in my lower back makes me cringe. “Ow!”

Tommy’s smile falls. “You okay?”

With my heart rate picking up at the idea of being a hostage, I roll my eyes, losing my patience and knowing the only way to get home is cut through all of this and try and change his mind. “No! I’m not alright! I want to go home. I want to be with…” I quiet myself at the look in his eyes. “What’s your problem, Tommy? I mean, really? We’ve learned all about your family. Why hold up my bar? They said you rob strangers. Or burgle them. Or whatever. I mean, it came out that you guys were dripping with money, so why come after me? And why pull the trigger, when you said in court you never do that. Or were you lying?” He shakes his head slowly. “Then WHY?”

His nostrils flare and he rises to pace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me! I’m a fairly understanding person. Fairly.” I can see his brain ticking. “What have you got to lose? No one’s coming up here unless you call them. I can’t fight you. Look at me.”

He blinks, knowing it’s true. I’m in handcuffs and while I could normally use my legs, my strongest weapon, I really can’t in my condition. I’m stuck. He’s stuck with me.

He looks around the cave and walks to faded letters on the far right side, tucked away from the light. “You see this? This is where Mark and I put our first initials. We came up here with these two chicks who had tits like you’ve got now. See over here? Here’s where the four of us guys wrote our names? This is another time, still when we were at State. See how my name’s right after Mark’s?” He turns to me. “Right up until the end of college, it was me and Mark, then Brendan and Ross came after. When Sara dumped Brendan, that all changed. Suddenly I was out.”

With the empty water bottle held tightly in my hands, I try to understand. But I can’t. “This is all because you’re in love with Mark?”

Bad move.

Tommy explodes, gesturing with his hands and walking toward me. “I’m not in love with Mark! I was a part of a group. There was a hierarchy. I was here!” He holds his hand up high, palm down and flat. “And then your fuckhead husband came along and took my place. Acted like I was nothing! Suddenly I was on the outside. They moved in together and if I didn’t come over, I’d never hear from them! It was all because of Brendan. He hated me and I never gave him reason to! He always treated me like I was shit. I’m not nothing! Do you know what that feels like? To be treated like you’re a fucking insect? A nuisance? Every time you walk into a room, you feel eyes on you filled with distaste, disgust, or even worse…apathy?”

Staring up at him, the ice that has always been on my heart with Tommy, begins to melt. “I know exactly what that’s like,” I quietly tell him.

Sideswiped, he blinks. As he stares at me, recognition lights up his eyes at the memory of who I was in college, a girl dressed in all black hiding in the shadows because she was too shy to say she wanted to be a part of the world. Tommy knows I know what he feels like, because he’s one of those who made me feel like nothing, back then. Brendan, too, and he knows it. Both of them do.

Smoothing out his sweater for something to do, he turns and mumbles, “Right. Right. So you know.”

I don’t bother to tell him that those feelings don’t give him license to do the things he did. That Brendan probably sensed he was hiding something, his double life, and that’s why Brendan hated him. Brendan hates liars more than anything. I don’t bother to tell him that Mark can choose who he wants to for his friends, and that’s not Brendan’s fault.

I don’t tell him these things, because I can see he’s breaking. I’m hoping he’ll do the right thing, if I can just keep my mouth shut; not an easy task.

He stares at the ash-filled fire pit, kneeling in front of it like there’s a warm blaze between us. How I wish there were.

“Bruce had been in contact with my dad, keeping an eye on him after my Uncle Paul disappeared, maybe with my mother.” He smirks as if just having thought of this. “Dad had been building up to this for some time, apparently, and he was dumb enough–which makes you lucky–to tell Bruce his plan. He was going to kill you. And he didn’t give a shit about the baby.” Tommy meets my eyes with a look so serious I shiver. I’d thought as much, but hearing it said out loud, that’s a whole other feeling.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He drops his gaze back to the fire pit. “Our family has never been killers. We’re thieves. That’s all. When I saw you and Brendan that night in your bar, I wasn’t in my right mind. Time had built up the pressure in here,” he touches the side of his head, “and I just lost it. But anybody is capable of losing it, Annie. Even you.” He reaches for a water bottle and opens it, holding it like it’s a beer with his index finger hooked around the spout as he takes a swig. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he says, “My dad lost it when I testified and when my mom left. And he–like me back then–needed to have someone to point the finger at, and that was you. But it could have been anyone, so he didn’t have to look at his own life. Also like me.”

My eyebrows twitch upward. “That’s pretty profound awareness.”

Tommy glances away on a wry smile. “I had a lot of time to think.”

“How did your cousin tell you about your dad? Weren’t guards listening?”

Tommy makes a sound, his mind a million miles away. “He had a friend give me the details. Someone I can’t name since I owe them my freedom and you owe them your life.”

Stammering, I argue, “I wasn’t going to ask their name.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear me, though. “You just never know when a friend is going to come through for you, do you? Bruce has good friends.” His eyes rise to look at me again. “I tried to warn you.”

Confused, I make a face. “What? How? What do you mean?”

“But you freaked out and ran to Bobby. I couldn’t let him see me of course. I was this close to going back in.”

The weight of this hangs in the air between us: if Bobby had seen him, I would be dead.

“Well, you should have told me…” I trail off, lamely.

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