Page 55 of Capturing Hearts

“Hey Annie! It’s me, Tommy! Got a minute?”

I frown. He smirks and standing up in one fluid motion, steps to the cooler. “I’m going to let you go, but I don’t know how.”

He stares at me. I’m flabbergasted. He’s right. He wouldn’t have been able to tell me had I not run and screamed for Bobby. He probably would have had to cover my mouth from screaming while he whispered into my ear that he was here to help me. I would never have believed him.

“Why didn’t you stop your father before he got to me?”

“We didn’t know where he was. He wouldn’t tell Bruce ahead of the abduction. We’re normally in on the plan when it’s been a robbery. But Dad had lost it–I’m sure you noticed–and he wasn’t behaving like himself. More suspicious. My ratting on him probably caused that, too. I had to take care of this myself. It was on me. And if I was back in jail, Bruce wouldn’t have called the cops right away. He was too hungry to lasso up my pop ourselves. This is family history we’re talking about. These things run deep.”

I guess this happened the only way it could have, which is a total mind garble.

“So why are you telling me all of this? Are you looking to me for a solution now?”

He opens up the cooler and tosses me a beef jerky. I catch it as he says, “I’m looking to you for forgiveness.”

My mouth slackens. I’m speechless. He smiles the tired smile of a man who doesn’t think what he’s asking is possible. Grabbing another beef jerky, he closes the cooler and walks to stand by the entrance, the sunlight outlining his silhouette.

Leaning against the rock wall, he takes a bite, waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, he says, in a thoughtful voice, “I want you to forgive me, because I’m sorry.”

Careful with my tone, I say, “It’s hard to do that, Tommy, under the circumstances.”

He pops another piece of jerky into his mouth and chews for a second, considering this. “Right about now, my cousin has called the cops and turned my dad in. He was the one who kidnapped you, not me. Am I right?” I don’t bother to point out the obvious, that I’m still kidnapped. “I’ve rescued you and I’m going to let you live. So I want you to see this as a leveling out, if you will. A clean slate. Canceling out–that’s what I meant to say. Canceling out what I did. I’ve made it right, in my own way.”

Careful not to antagonize, I use my softest voice, losing all the edges. “Well, it might make it right if you called Brendan and told him where I am.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “Believe me, I’ve thought of that. But how do I do that without alerting them to my whereabouts? That’s why I’ve decided I’m bringing you with me. It’s the only way”

“Tommy, what are you going to do with a pregnant woman who you don’t like and a baby showing up who will freak you out?”

“You’re not so bad,” he mumbles, his lips spreading in a smile. “I deserve a second chance! Everyone is capable of anything given the right circumstances. If someone harmed that baby of yours, when it was five for example, not now. I’m not harming the baby; don’t look at me like that. But if that happened, what would you do?”

Without hesitation, I shrug, “I’d kill them.”

“Exactly. See?” Tommy’s flexed finger jabs into the air between us. “All I want to do is get to Canada, marry some nice girl, and start a new life.”

With my hands joined at the wrists, I hold onto my belly. “Well, why don’t you go and then when you’re a ways away, call Brendan, tell him where I am, and throw the phone away. Ow!” I cringe under the agony of what feels like a knife slicing into me.

Tommy pushes off the wall. “I could do that. But how do I know you won’t tell them where I’m headed?”

“Go to Mexico! If you leave and promise to call my husband, my lips are sealed anyway. I’ll be so fucking grateful that I might even write to the governor asking them to let you go! Oh man! This hurts. Ow!” I lower my head and squeeze my eyes against the pain. A pool of liquid pours out in a circle around me, darkening my skirt and the purple comforter. My eyes fly open and I look up at my captor. “Uh oh.”

“What? Is that pee? Why didn’t you tell me you had to go?”

“That’s not pee.” I look down at my belly, wondering at my baby’s timing.

“Then what is it?” he cries out, horrified. “Is the baby okay?!”

Sighing, I nod. “He’s fine. He just decided he doesn’t want to go to Canada. My water broke. The baby’s coming, Tommy.”

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