Page 61 of Capturing Hearts

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tommy

My wrists: held behind my back. My shame: bottomless.

I’m staring down at the couple with Mark needlessly holding onto me. I’m dead on the inside. My face like stone. No hope. Only a dim satisfaction somewhere in the recesses of my soul, that I didn’t run. It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got. Rebecca steals another glance and we lock eyes. She’s stunning as usual, and the sight of her with her hair wind blown, out of breath from running in those pumps up a hill, has me wanting to do all sorts of things to her before I get thrown back into an all-men cage for the rest of my life.

But this desire is futile.

My life? It’s over.

She catches Mark’s warning glance and looks away from me, quickly.

The black girl–a stunner with long, long legs who I’ve never seen before–pulls out blankets and fresh clothes for Annie. She glances to Mark, and avoids my eyes. She must be his girlfriend, but this is the first I’ve heard of her. Must have happened after I went in. Or before; it’s not like he’s confided in me in anything for a very long time.

Brendan looks over as the black girl says something. I see her mouth moving, but my heartbeat’s dull thud is louder in my ears, that and the sound of the bars locking. Dinon’s voice. Antonio’s unblinking eyes. Morales. Beady Eyes and the beating he’ll gladly give me when they throw me back into my cell. Next to my father’s cell, maybe.

Now wouldn’t that be ironic?

I lock eyes with Brendan as he turns, filled with fury. “Did you hit her?” Mark tightens his grip on my wrists. I blink slowly, not fighting. I knew this was coming. Brendan flies at me, snarling. My head swings to my right under the first blow. Then to my left. Again and again. The pain is nothing to what Annie’s feeling, so this moment is almost a sweet retribution I can take comfort in. Except for one thing: these guys used to be my friends.

“BRENDAN! NO! HE SAVED ME!” Annie screams.

Struck dumb, Brendan stops. The hatred in his eyes as he looks at me is palpable. Dark blue loathing that has no end, but there’s confusion slithering in, and he doesn’t like it. I spit out the blood, not agreeing with her. Because the truth is, she should be in a hospital. I’m a selfish bastard. The pain he’s serving up almost feels good, because I think I deserve worse.

Confusion turns him around. The three of us who used to party in this cave until dawn on many, many fun nights, look down at the woman in labor, her hair sweat-matted around her face. A blanket is over her. Her wet clothes are in a heap and the new ones have vanished. They’re on her now, but we can’t see them as she’s covered well. Rebecca and the black fox are down on the floor with her, looking under the blanket, in between her legs.

Her small, feminine hand reaches for Brendan. “It was his dad! Honey, it wasn’t him! It was his dad who kidnapped me. Please stop!!” Tears fall down her cheeks, a never-ending stream as she cringes and cries out in pain. “Oh, God, when is that Motrin going to work already??!”

Brendan frowns and looks back to me. Mark lets me go. I stumble backwards and step to the left to grab purchase, a foundation to lean on. The stone wall feels good under my hand, cool and solid. Wiping the blood from my lip, I lower my eyes and catch my breath.

Rebecca speaks first. “What does she mean, Tommy?”

Is that hope in her voice? I glance to her. “It doesn’t matter. This is all me.”

Brendan spins to face his wife. Calls her name with confusion and the desire to kill me still in his voice. It is now that I realize how much he really loves her. It’s all over him. And it makes me feel like more of a schmuck than I already do.

I’m jealous. Can you blame me?

Her eyelashes rise. Tired, she wiggles her hand in the air for him to take it. “Come back. Be with me.”

He rushes to her, deflating. All of the machismo and anger disappears.

Mark’s watching me with uncertainty and I give him a pained smile. “Just like old times, huh?” His jaw tightens, and the veins in his neck become exposed. “Not in the joking mood?”

“Tommy, cut it out you idiot,” Annie mutters with a smile, and instantly like she’s magic, the hollowed-out cavern changes shape to something less horrible, less filled with hate. Through a few short sentences she explains what happened. My old friends steal glances to me a couple times as she blurts out the basics in between contractions. Mark licks his lips, sliding his hands in his pockets, and lowering his head.

“He still brought you here!” Brendan grumbles.

She nods and says, “Yeah. Oh God! Nicole!”

Nicole quietly informs her. “I see the little guy’s head.”

With all of us watching, and few of us breathing, Jacob Lee Clark arrives in the world, crying and screaming, his little mouth bright red and the rest of him looking like a wet alien monkey. As if we’re in a hospital room and not in a cave up some hill, everybody grins with joy as the little guy stops crying the moment he’s laid in his mother’s arms, the cord cut with a pair of house scissors dipped in rubbing alcohol.

Brendan gets behind Annie, sitting on the ground with his legs on either side of her, raising her up to prop against his chest with her back to him. Together they look at their son swaddled in a bath towel, smiling down at the strange little creature. I stare at the scene filled with mixed emotions I can’t even begin to explain.

Mark looks at me, and jogs his head once toward the mouth of the cave. We walk outside into the sunlight, me behind him.

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