Page 52 of My Dear Mr. Corporate

“Then I’ll be revived for after,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m off tomorrow and I even said no to overtime, so we have all night.”

“Don’t tempt me. I have work tomorrow.”

“I’ll go easy on you then.”

I growled in his ear. “Please don’t.”

“Perhaps you want- what the fuck!”

Over the phone I heard Bryan’s shout before the screech of car tires.

“Bryan!” I shouted in the phone, fear gripping me.

“Fucking asshole!” I heard him exclaim. “He almost ran me off the road.”

“Who?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. The windows are tinted. Holy shit, he’s coming back. I don’t think this was an accident.”

The flash of memory of the loud gunshot I’d heard exploding at my mother’s house had my heart galloping in my chest. That had been no accident either.

“Bryan! Get the hell out of there!” I shouted at him. The phone went dead. “Bryan!”

I quickly dressed and with the phone clutched in my hand, I swiped my car keys from the dresser and pounded down the stairs to the garage. I tried calling him back while I drove like a mad man. I had no idea which route he had been on but gathered he probably had taken the shorter one which would have had him drive off the main road. When I still was unable to get him, I did the next best thing and called the police who assured me they would have someone patrol the area.

I tried not to think of the worst. He would be okay. He had to be okay. I had almost made myself believe it when I saw the flashing lights ahead of me on the shorter route I had rightly deduced Bryan would take. Up ahead, I could see there had been a crash. Cars were parked to the side of the street, a few people milling about. In the center were police officers directing the traffic and keeping everything orderly. I dismissed them, scanning the faces and found none was Bryan.

Pain lanced my heart, squeezed and refused to let go as I identified my car that I had given to him. Nooooooo!Not again! I couldn’t lose him too. I barely parked the car before I jumped out and ran towards the crash site. The vehicle was turned over on its side. As I tried to approach a cop stepped in my way.

“This is a crime scene sir, and you’re not allowed to go any further.”

“I was the one who made the report,” I told the officer, still forging ahead. “Where is he?”

The policeman eyed me in suspicion. “How did you know what was happening? What relationship do you have with the alleged victim?”

“I was on the phone talking to Bryan when he got hit.” I barely hung on to my temper, reminding myself he was just doing his job. “The line went blank and he wouldn’t pick up again so I called 9-1-1.”

“Can you state your name and the relationship to the driver of the vehicle?”

My heart sank. Why didn’t they give me any information? They had done the same thing with Kathleen and Rachel. They had gone round and round in circles before they told me both had died on impact. I dug into my pockets for my wallet and showed him my ID. I didn’t use my name all willy nilly but tonight called for it. “Tate Rosenbaum.” My voice boomed with authority I didn’t feel. “The driver, Bryan Cummings is my boyfriend and that’s my car. Now where the hell is he? Was he already taken to the hospital?”

“Mr. Rosenbaum.” The officer recognized the name. Yes, that’s right. We fund the retreat for police officers yearly. “I’m so sorry sir, but we have no idea where he is.”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know where he is?” I snapped, not making sense of what he was saying.

“This wasn’t just a random accident,” he answered as if I hadn’t already figured this out. “It seems that this was an intended abduction. We have a witness who was just behind that reported a man came out of his car and dragged the driver, allegedly your partner into his car. We have no idea the condition Mr. Cummings is in, but the witness confirmed there was no struggle on his part as he was dragged away and thrown in the trunk.”

The cop’s words were right out of a movie. I couldn’t make sense of this happening to Bryan.

“Find him!” I demanded at the police, more out of fear than out of being rude. “I don’t care how much it costs. If it’s a reward they want put the word out. I want him back before the night is done.”

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