Page 4 of The Fix
She practically flew out of the store, plunked into her car, and tossed the bag onto the passenger seat. She had no idea if it’d been ten minutes, but she decided she’d look at it behind the locked door of her bathroom after all. Then she would put the—again, please God—negative test at the bottom of her purse and throw it away in the morning.
But first, she needed to calm the hell down. She flicked on her radio and turned up the volume, rolled her head on her shoulders as she turned out of the lot, and then took a long sip of water from her drink tumbler.
Everything was going to be just fine. The nausea had faded, and she was actually hungry. Her stomach growled as she pictured a steaming plate of her mother’s spaghetti and meatballs with a crunchy piece of homemade garlic bread.
She was juststressed. Stress did all sorts of funny things to a female body. She’d look at that test when she got home, and then she’d head downstairs for the biggest celebratory dinner she’d had in a long time.
Her mother’s car was sitting in its usual spot in the driveway, and she pulled behind it, grabbed her stuff, and hopped out of her car, humming the song that had just been blasting on her radio as she walked to the garage and typed in the code.
She stuffed the bagged pregnancy test into the pool bag on her shoulder as she moved toward the door that led to the mudroom, and zipped it shut. Cami entered the house and kicked off her shoes, pausing for a moment as she listened for the sounds of her mom in the kitchen. The missing scents of garlic and basil that she’d expected to greet her elicited a frown, an uncomfortable prickle raising the hairs on the nape of her neck.
“Mom?” she called as she moved toward the open door of the room that led into the hall off the kitchen. “Elle?”
A body stepped into her path, causing her to rear back and drop her bag. Her scream dissolved into a garbled gasp when a fist slammed into her face. She barely registered being caught before she could hit the floor, the pain in her cheek so intense it blinded her.
“That’s it, pretty thing. I saw your photos on the wall. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Cami groaned, managing to open her eyes a mere slit as a man wearing a medical mask carried her past her fuzzy kitchen. The red fog in her brain cleared so that she became aware of what was happening, and a blast of panic shot through her system like lava. She screamed against the man’s clammy palm and then kicked backward and thrashed her head. But the man just laughed and clamped his arms around her more tightly. “AJ,” he called. “We got a wiggly one here.” He leanedin and licked the side of her face as he dragged her up the stairs. “You like to wiggle, hot stuff? Yeah, I like to wiggle too.” He laughed again.
His arms unclamped, and he threw her forward so that she landed on her stomach with a breath-stealing thud. “Get the tape,” she heard the man say to the other one he’d called AJ. Cami raised her head and turned it slightly, only catching a glimpse of black hair leaving the room as the man with the tape kneeled on her back and bound her hands. Hot tears slid down her cheeks and another scream lodged in her throat when she raised her head again and saw her mother and sister sitting against the opposite wall, their eyes rimmed in red, duct tape covering their mouths.
“Mom!” she sobbed, scrambling to get up. But the knee at her back pressed down, causing her to yelp and hit the floor again. A hand reached around her neck, holding her head steady as a piece of tape was stretched over her mouth. The man rose, and she attempted to kick backward again, but he stepped aside and then punched the back of her head. She groaned as her mom’s and sister’s muffled cries intensified behind their tape. Then one of the men used her hair to pull her lolling head up, and she felt another piece of tape being pressed over her mouth.
She sank to the floor, heart pounding wildly with terror, adrenaline sluicing through her veins as she opened her eyes. Then she and her mom and baby sister stared at each other in wordless horror.
Chapter Three
Cami worked to catch her breath through her nostrils, the intensity of her fear making her woozy. Her mom widened her tear-filled eyes, nodding in silent encouragement as she watched her eldest daughter attempt to calm herself.Dad. Where’s Dad?He wasn’t home yet, but he should be soon. Would they surprise him like they’d done to her? He’d be able to fight them, though. He was stronger. Did they have weapons? She had thought she’d felt a weapon in the man’s waistband as he’d carried her from the mudroom up the stairs, but in her panicked state, she couldn’t be sure.
Her thoughts burst in every direction, firing so quickly she could barely hold on to any of them.
Elle’s shoulders shook with soundless sobs, and that was the sight that allowed Cami to get hold of her hysteria. She held eyes with Elle as she drew a breath through her nose that made it past her throat, expanding her diaphragm and slowing her heart rate infinitesimally. But it was enough to build on, and over the next thirty seconds as she locked eyes with her little sister, the two kidnappers’ voices a low drone as they conversed somewhere down the hall, she calmed down enough that her thoughts became coherent.
Cami drew herself up and then scooted closer to her mom and sister. The three of them gathered, hugging in the only way they could, laying heads on each other’s shoulders and rubbing cheeks. She could smell her mom’s scent under the sharp tang of sweat and terror. Shetook comfort in it because it was all that she had. A link to safety. To normalcy.
When they moved apart, she stared at her mom, hoping she could read in her eyes what Cami was trying to convey:We’re going to be okay. We will survive this.Any other outcome was inconceivable.
They all tensed as the sound of footsteps approached the primary bedroom where they were, and the man who’d first surprised her in the mudroom returned. He had a gun by his side, confirming that he had a weapon. “Mr. Cortlandt should be here soon, and so we’re going to have to make sure none of you do something stupid that we’d all regret.”
She heard the sounds of her mother’s and sister’s muffled cries again and glanced at them quickly to see their shoulders shaking as he approached. Cami focused her eyes back on the man, committing what she could see of him to memory. About six feet, wavy brown hair that was short on the sides and longer on the top, combed into place with gel, a sharp nose and hollow cheeks. He was wearing jeans and blue tennis shoes that looked straight from a store shelf and a green polo shirt with the creases where it’d been folded still sharp and obvious. If she had to guess, she’d say he’d just bought the outfit today. There was a scar through the end of his right eyebrow, and he had a mole just beneath his left ear.
I can’t wait to describe you to the police, asshole. The mask can only hide so much. And you aren’t even wearing it over your nose.
“You,” he said, pointing to Elle. “Get up and come with me.”
Elle turned her head into their mom and hid her face as she cried. Their mom made sounds of protest as she appealed to the armed man. But Cami could tell by his face that he was both enjoying their begging and becoming impatient from it. “Get up!” he yelled, startling all three of them.
Cami jumped up, holding her bound hands out to him, asking that he take her instead.
“Sit your ass down,” he said, waving the gun toward her and causing her to take a step back. “I’m not going to hurt your sister. We just need to separate you. Now up,” he yelled, using the weapon to gesture to Elle.
Their mother, tears streaming down her face, rubbed her cheek over Elle’s hair and gave her a small bump with her shoulder, telling her with her gestures to go with him.Comply.As if she had a choice. As if any of them did.
Elle raised her head and then stood shakily, walking toward the man with the gun.
“Attagirl. You show me where your room is, sweet thing.”
Cami’s heart continued to pound like a bass drum, the sound of blood whooshing in her ears and clouding her thoughts.Calm. Calm. You have to stay calm if you’re going to survive this.Their dad was on his way home. Even now, he might be turning the corner into their neighborhood.
