Page 45 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“What if I am? Don’t start all that shit again,” she said, and her words inflamed me.
I knew it was the tension from the call. I understood that, but I exploded.
“Don’t start all thatshitagain?” I repeated, slowly. “We lost our fucking baby and you don’t want me to start all thatshitagain?” I shouted.
She spoke to someone on the phone and explained what she wanted, turning her back to me. I stormed off to the closet and grabbed a bag. I threw a handful of items in, a charger, and things I knew I’d need. I thenwalked back to the bedroom to see Lauren doing to the same.
“I’m coming, Mackenzie, even if I take a fucking economy flight myself.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “And if anything happens to this baby, if there even is one, I’ll take full fucking responsibility for that!”
I don’t think I’d ever seen her so angry, but so was I. I grabbed my bag, she could carry her own. I stormed silently to the car and loaded the trunk, leaving it open for her to place her own bag in there. Then we had the agonizing two-hour wait until we could leave for our plane. I paced the kitchen, drinking cup after cup of coffee, and took call after call from Alex.
“What happened?” I asked him.
His voice was so hoarse and I knew it would be because of tears. “He fucking broke in. We were in the kitchen and Gabriella thought she heard Dominic cry. She saw a car leaving and the crib was empty. I can’t breathe, Mackenzie,” he said quietly.
“I know, Alex. Lauren has chartered a plane; we don’t leave until five, but we’ll be there as quick as we can. How do you know it’s Daniel?”
“He called, told us he needed money and then he’d hand over Dominic.”
“How much?”
“I have it covered. I have the bank getting it together now. The police don’t want me to do this, but I justwant my son back and then I’ll fucking kill him, Mackenzie. I swear an oath, I’ll kill him.”
I had absolutely no doubt he meant every single word of what he’d just said, and if he didn’t, I would.
“Mackenzie?” I heard, Lauren had come to stand behind me.
“What?” I snapped.
“Gabriella needs us both. This isn’t about you charging in on your white horse. Alex needs us both, as well.”
I turned to face her. “Like I said, you take responsibility for our baby, if there is one. I would rather you stay here so I don’t have to worry about you or…it. You remember when he came to the house? He didn’t care if he attacked you or me; it was whoever answered that door. What happens if he gets to you? Do I need to worry about that as well?”
I knew I was shouting and the more I shouted, the more she stood steadfast, staring at me. Finally, I stopped. I let my head roll back on my neck and I closed my eyes. I breathed in deep. I knew my hands were shaking. More so when she picked one up and held it to her lips.
“They need us both, Mackenzie,” she whispered. I nodded, of course, they would.
“I don’t want to risk…”
“We don’t know if there is anything to risk.”
I placed my hand around the back of her neck and I pulled her close. I kissed her hard. “I don’t want…” I whispered, not bothering to finish my sentence.
“I’m going with you and I’d rather we arrived as a team and not with you shouting at me,” she replied.
It was a battle I wasn’t go to win, unless I got in my car and… I shoved that thought from my mind. My wife, my amazing and fucking infuriating wife would just get a taxi.
“I’m sorry,” I said. She shook her head and smiled, even though tears had formed in her eyes.
We decided to drive to the private airport in Kent. We’d rather wait there than at the house, at least it felt like we were being productive. Alex called to say an eyewitness had seen the car and it had pulled into a gas station. Lauren comforted Gabriella. Finally, we were allowed to board our plane. I’d flown privately before and had it been in any other circumstance, I would have enjoyed the luxury, but I couldn’t settle knowing we were still hours away.
I held Lauren’s hand all the way. We hardly spoke, not because we were still pissed with each other, and I was seriously annoyed with her, but because we just couldn’t speak. It had to be every parent’s nightmare and the hopelessness of being thousands of feet in the air was a torment in itself.
The luxury of a private jet meant a private airstripand a quick customs check. I sailed through, Lauren was questioned. She scanned for me in the small terminal, not knowing what to say to the customs clerk. I could only stand back behind the barrier and watch. Eventually, she was let through.
“What was the problem?” I asked.
“I was here only a few months ago and they wanted to know why I was returning so quick.”
