BRIAN (The Callahans Book 1) (16 page)

Cassidy

They dragged me out of the van. I had no idea where we were or what they were doing. I wasn’t even sure of how many people were still with me. I’d heard the doors of the van open and close enough to allow a dozen people to come and go. There were hands on my upper arms and someone carrying my feet. I was still tied up. We’d moved after the phone call came, so I guess there weren’t as many chances for them to get caught wherever we were.

I tried to ask where we were, but it only came out in jumbled sounds.

“Do yourself a service and be quiet,” Ricky whispered near my ear.

I stiffened when I realized he was the one holding my arms.

They took me inside. I could tell by the change in light filtering through my blindfold and the dustiness of the new location. We were in an old building of some sort. And then there was a new voice.

“Put her in the chair.”

I was dropped, my feet slapping the floor. Someone cursed—I thought it might be Ricky—and then I was set carefully into a chair. The blindfold was suddenly ripped away and I found myself looking into the face of the Phantom of the Opera. At least, that’s what he looked like with his mask on.

“I’m going to take off your gag,” he said softly. I knew his voice. It was Ricky. “I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

He picked at the edge of the tape. After a minute, another masked man moved up behind him.

“Just tear it off.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“She’s getting much worse than this very soon.”

Ricky pursed his lips, but he tugged at the tape, pulling it off a little faster than he seemed to intend. The pain was sharp and immediate, but it only lasted a second. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and my heart sank into my belly, but he only used it to cut my ties.

“Don’t try to go anywhere.”

He stood up and moved back. A bright light came on and suddenly I couldn’t see beyond a camera that was set up just a few feet in front of me.

“You’re going to record a message for Brian,” the new voice said. It was low, rough, as if whoever was speaking was purposely trying to alter the sound of his voice. “You’re going to tell him he needs to choose. He needs to choose between you and his daughter.”

The breath flew from my lungs.

“Don’t touch my daughter!”

“Not yours, sweetheart. She’s already been released.”

Relief made my shoulders sag.

“Brian has two daughters. Yours and young, sweet Stacy. She’s just gotten engaged to be married, you know.”

“You wouldn’t hurt her.”

“Don’t put it past me. And don’t take for granted that Brian would choose you.”

I strained to see past the camera, but the light was too bright.

“You can’t do that. You can’t make him choose.”

“I won’t. You will.”

I shivered, remembering the feel of the knife against my throat. But Brianna was safe. She was going to be okay and that was all that mattered. They could do whatever they wanted with me just as long as Brianna was okay.

“Okay,” I said into that light. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

There was silence for a long time before the voice came back.

“This is what you say…”

Brian

Brianna was still asleep when we let ourselves back into the hotel room. We’d only been there a few minutes when my phone beeped.

A video had come over a text sent by a number I didn’t recognize.

Ian took my phone without asking, touching the button and holding it out so we could both see it. Cassidy, her pretty face pale, stared at the camera, tears in her eyes even as she was clearly trying to remain stoic.

“I’m okay,” she said, her voice low and well controlled despite the tears. “Please know I’m okay. And thank you so much for finding Brianna!”

“Get on with it,” a deep voice said, but not without kindness.

She glanced off to the side, apparently looking at the speaker. Then she focused on the camera again.

“They want you to choose.” She took a deep breath. “They said you can have me back, but if you choose me, they’ll go after Stacy. They’ll kill her.”

Ian glanced at me, but I was staring at Cassidy. An anger like nothing I’d ever felt before was building in my chest, threatening to explode. My hands shook. My breath came in short gasps. I needed to hurt someone.

“I love you, Brian,” Cassidy said. “I know what you have to do. It’s okay.”

The video went dark.

I shook my head.

“No, no, no!”

“Pops…”

“She’s telling me not to come for her. She’s saying she wants me to protect Stacy and to let her go.”

“Listen to me—”

“I won’t do that. I won’t turn away from her again!”

“Pops!” Ian grabbed me by the shoulders. “They screwed up. I know where they are.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ian pulled up the video again, pausing it just seconds after it began. He touched the screen, pointing to some vague writing on the wall behind Cassidy.

“Do you see that?”

“I can’t tell what it says.”

“I can. That’s the logo for Luli Farms. They must be at one of their old warehouses.”

“But they must have dozens.”

“I doubt it. They were pretty small before they went out of business.”

“Then how do you know…?”

Ian shrugged. “I absorb information. I came across a story about them in the Wall Street Journal some time back.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

As he said it, my phone buzzed again. I took it from him and read the text that had just arrived from the same number as the video.

You have three hours to decide.

I turned away, the image of Cassidy in that video burned on my cornea. She looked so frightened until the very end. Until she told me she knew what choice I’d make and that it was okay. I felt sick to my stomach. She was comparing this decision to the one I made all those years ago. She knew I would choose responsibility over happiness because I did it once before. But that wasn’t me anymore. As much as I loved each of my children, I couldn’t turn my back on Cassidy in order to protect Stacy. I wasn’t like her. I couldn’t do whatever it took to keep my child safe. I wanted them both.

I wanted to save Cassidy, but I wanted Stacy to be okay, too.

What was I going to do?

I was going to save them both.

“Find the warehouse. I’m going to call Killian and get him updated on all this.”

“Pops…”

He brought me my phone. Another text message had come in.

Do you really think sending Killian to New York will stop me?

Cassidy

It was only Ricky watching over me now. He led me into a small room off of the main, cavernous room where we filmed the video. I assumed the others were still out in the warehouse, but they told Ricky to take me away. He sat me in a chair off to the side of a small desk.

“Do I need to tie you up again?”

I shook my head. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“You won’t try to run?”

“No.”

He stood in front of me, watching me as if I was a bug under a microscope. Then he leaned close and touched the side of my face.

“You said you loved him.”

I turned my face away, trying to avoid his touch without offending him.

“I do love him.”

“Why? He went back to his wife all those years ago.”

I jerked a little, just as he went to touch me again. “How do you know that?”

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed through the holes of his mask. “We know everything about you. We know that you met him while you were attending Boston College’s nursing program. We know that you spent six months together, six months during which his wife was pregnant. She was about to give birth when she went to him and asked him to come back to her and the children. She had just started working as a social worker, but she’d have to take time off when the baby came and she was afraid. She wanted him there with her.”

I didn’t even know some of that. I stared at him as he rattled this information out as if it didn’t matter. Like no one had gotten hurt. But what he left out was how much I loved Brian, how desperate I was to be with him, and how crushed I was when I saw Abigail come out of his room and understood who she was.

She was so pregnant that it was almost impossible for her to get down the stairs. And I just stood there and watched, too frozen with fear to do anything.

Just a week before, two-year-old Killian had come to visit his father, and I imagined what it would be like, the three of us living together, my own belly swollen with a child of Brian and my own.

He didn’t mention the more than fifteen years of marriage that I’d spent committed to a man I didn’t love. He didn’t mention the nights I lay awake and thought of what might have been. He didn’t care about the hurt and the anger I nursed all those years. And he didn’t know that I could have found love. I could have found someone else after I left Sam. But I didn’t because I knew the man I loved was in Boston living his life with the woman he loved.

“He did what was right.”

“But he left you alone with a baby in your belly.”

“How did you know about Brianna? How did you know she was Brian’s?”

He was quiet for a moment, and I thought that he might not answer. But then he tilted his head again.

“He saw her. Saw the red hair and the green eyes, and he guessed. He targeted her only because of you, but when he saw her, he knew.”

“He? Who is he?”

“My friend. My boss. The guy running the show.”

“Who is he?”

“That’s not really important right now. But you should know, he has a lot in store for Brian. If I were you,” he leaned close to me, “I’d get as far from Brian as possible because he’s about to suffer. A lot.”

“Why? What does this guy have against him?”

“Do I need to spell it out to you? Brian Callahan is a user. A criminal. A fool.”

“He’s also a father, a husband, a lover.”

Ricky touched my jaw, and it took everything I had not to flinch. He leaned close.

“I bet I could show you a much better time than that old man can.”

I turned my face away. “No, I don’t think so.”

“How do you know? You should give me a chance, Cassidy,” he said, rolling his tongue almost obscenely over my name. “I can make you feel really good. I know what I’m doing.”

“So does he.”

“But I’m younger. Fitter.”

He stepped back and lifted off his shirt, as if showing me his young, impressive six-pack would really make me stop loving Brian and want to be with him. He came to me and nearly straddled my lap, forcing me to look up at him. I couldn’t stand the idea of looking him in the eye, so I focused on a tattoo on his chest. It was round with dark edges, some sort of tree inside a perfect circle. It was like something off a t-shirt, but it had a roman numeral along the bottom that I didn’t understand.

“I can make you feel like a million bucks, baby.”

He pressed his fingers into my hair, tugging my head back so that I had to look at him. Then he bent and kissed me full on the lips. I couldn’t turn enough to avoid him. He tasted like salt and sleep, like all the unpleasant things that came with kissing someone who hadn’t brushed in days. I wanted to push him away, but I didn’t know what would happen if I made him angry. But I remembered that knife he’d shoved into his front pants pocket.

“You’re beautiful,” Ricky said against my lips.

I relaxed my body a little, pretended I was into his kiss. I even touched him, sliding the back of my fingers over his belly. He seemed to take that as compliance. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue over my lips. I slid my fingers into the front pocket of his jeans and searched for the knife, my fingers just brushing the handle when he pulled back.

“Let’s move to the desk. There’s more room there.”

I forced a smile and let him lift me out of the chair. I perched on the side of the desk, my legs spread so that he could stand between them. He was kissing me again before I could catch my breath, his tongue invasive and unskilled. I couldn’t make myself wait. I shoved my fingers into his front pocket, pretending I wanted to touch him. What I really wanted was the cool, solid handle of that knife in my hand.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered against my mouth.

“Please, Ricky,” I moaned.

I almost had it. It was pressed against my fingertips. He slid his hands down my back, tugging at my shirt. I felt sick to my stomach, but I almost had the knife. I slowly slid it upward with just the tips of my fingers holding onto it. I was pulling it up so that the knife was pressed against the front of his pocket and my fingers against his flesh. He moaned as I moved a little too close to the inside of his body, my hand brushing the side of his swollen cock.

He thought I was into him. How naive could a man be?

The knife came out of his pocket almost at the same instant the door opened.

“Ricky, what the fuck?”

He stepped back, spinning around to face whomever it was who’d walked into the room. I slid the knife into my back pocket, hoping neither of them had seen the move.

“What’s going on?”

“He wants us to move out. He wants to be long gone before Brian or his kid can figure out where we are.”

“Okay. We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Make sure she keeps all her clothes on.”

The new guy left, his footsteps ringing on the concrete floor. I didn’t hear the door close. Ricky turned back to me, what little of his face I could see was red, his lips almost pouty.

“We better go.” He reached for me, pulling my arms behind me as he pulled me up against his chest. He kissed me again, which was a relief because I was afraid he’d seen me put the knife in my pocket and was going for it. But he wasn’t.

His hand slid under the back of my shirt, but then he groaned. He pulled away and stooped to pick up his shirt. I had the knife in my hand before I could think things through. It felt like stabbing a side of beef. The knife went through his skin between his two lowest ribs, a little pop vibrating through the knife before it went in. He fell to his knees as I ripped the knife out again. I didn’t look back as I ran.