“Yeah I did.” She hugs me close.
“Okay, Ms. Baker, per the contract, we’ll measure you two weeks before your wedding, and make sure everything still fits. Are you wanting to pay a down payment today, and do payments on the remaining balance?”
I’m barely paying attention to what they’re talking about until I hear them say fifteen hundred down and then a remaining amount of four thousand dollars. I want to do a double-take, but I try to keep it in, until she’s done.
We walk out together, and after the door shuts, I turn to her. “That damn thing was almost six thousand dollars?”
“Wedding dresses are expensive, Sully. You better get used to it for when Shelby wants one.” She elbows me in the side. “I know, I know, don’t rush you. But seriously, Dad’s paying for the remaining balance on it. He didn’t approve of my first marriage, and he more than approves of this one. He and Cutter have a great relationship. This is his gift to us.”
“Well, that’s gonna make my gift look like shit.”
She stops and hugs me tight. “My gift from you is that you always have my back, no matter what the situation, and there can never be a price put on that.”
Chapter 34
Shelby
I’ll be glad when this shit is over and I’ll never volunteer for anything like this with the LSERT again. I’d been led to believe there wouldn’t be anyone not vetted, but I guess money is money. Something told me not to do this, but I’m the new one here and I wanna help all my new friends. I’ve had a shitty feeling about this since I got the directions to the dinner tonight. All of our correspondence has been done by email. To be honest, I wanted to get this over with, so I agreed to meet them on the first day they requested.
It’s not in a part of Laurel Springs I’ve ever been in, and I don’t recall there being a restaurant in the building I’ve been directed to, but I gave my word and here I am.
“I’m here,” I tell Rowan. “If you don’t hear from me in an hour, send help,” I half-way joke. “I know this is supposed to be a new place, but it doesn’t look open.”
“Be careful.”
As I get out of my car, I lock the doors and make sure the pepper spray I like to carry is within easy reach. Slowly I walk up to the front entrance, knocking on the door.
Glancing in through the glass, I see that work has been done, but this place isn’t ready to be open for business yet. That bad feeling I had comes back with a vengeance.
Head down, I’m walking back to my car when I feel something grab around my neck. Immediately I go to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth.
“Hey, Shelby, you ready for a wonderful time together?”
I would know that voice anywhere. Frank Gentry.
Fear radiates all through my body as I immediately begin trying to think of ways to get out of this situation. In Houston I’d taken self-defense courses, but since I’ve moved, I haven’t kept up with them. Instead of instinctively knowing what to do, I know without a doubt, I’m fighting for my life.
I pick my foot up, slamming it down onto Frank’s. He howls, letting go of my mouth, which allows me to use my teeth to bite him. Taking off, I run for my car.
“You fucking bitch! You will pay for what you took away from me.”
I can hear him behind me. He’s taller and faster. All I want to do is get to my car, lock the doors, and try to drive away. I’m close when I feel his fingers in my hair, yanking against the strands, pushing my face down into the concrete.
Screaming wildly, I turn over, scratching at his eyes, his cheeks, anything I can reach. A blow rocks my head. We fight against one another, me clawing for the pepper spray I made sure was close enough to grab. When I tighten my fingers around it, I pull it out, pressing against the button, aiming at his eyes.
“You whore, you won’t get away with this!”
Scrambling to my feet, I rush to my car, opening the door, but Frank grabs hold of my purse. He’s reaching in, trying to get the keys. Somehow I wrestle them out of his hands, and I know immediately I won’t be able to keep him at bay for much longer. There’s only one thing for me to do, in order to buy myself enough time. I use the key fob to unlock the door, and then as he lunges for me, I throw it, as fucking far as I can.
“You stupid idiot!” He turns, watching for where it lands.
I have just enough time to get in and lock the doors. Fumbling with my cell phone, managing to dial nine-one-one right as he starts beating on the windows.
“Help me! Help me!” I scream into the phone, yelling out the address.
I don’t know where he gets it from, but a rock comes through the driver’s side window and he yanks the phone out of my hand, throwing it in the same direction as my keys. “What are you doing?”
His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me out of the car. “Teaching you what it feels like to be helpless.”
Sullivan
The mid-afternoon into evening so far has been quiet, which is typically a death-sentence for the end of shift. Glancing at the clock on my dashboard, it reads six-thirty.
Thirty minutes.
Then I can go home, get out of these clothes, and wait for Shelby to get back from her dinner. She was supposed to text me when she got there, but I haven’t gotten one yet. When I stop at the next red light I hit, I’ll give her a call to make sure she’s good.
As I brake to a stop and grab my cell phone, dispatch comes over the radio.
“Nine-one-one hang up from a cell phone. GPS shows it’s over in the new warehouse district. Emergency services tried to call back and there’s no answer. They heard screaming in the background.”
I’m three minutes from the location. “Mark me as responding. I’ll be there ASAP.”
Flipping on my lights and pressing the gas pedal sends my adrenaline rushing. My tires squeal, and I grip the steering wheel as the engine responds. Turning onto the street, my pulse increases because the car sitting there looks like Shelby’s.
There’s a man pulling a blonde woman out of the driver’s side window. My lights illuminate them, I’d recognize that motherfucker Frank Gentry anywhere.
Squealing to a stop, I get out, holding my gun on him. “Hands up!”
“Who are you gonna pick, Sullivan? Your woman, or me?”
She screams when he pulls her hair, dragging her through the window.
“Let her go!”
“Make a decision, Sullivan.”
“Let her go.” My voice is hoarse, desperation making me willing to do anything he wants me to.
He yanks on her harder, dropping her on the asphalt. The groan that escapes her throat is pitiful. My eyes and his lock; he knows I’m going to choose her. I’ll always choose her.
Before I can holster my gun, I take a shot at him, but I know it’s going to miss. My attention isn’t on him, it’s completely on her.
“Shelby!”
She’s bleeding and her eyes aren’t open. Fumbling with my radio, I manage to put words to what is happening. “Dispatch, I need an ambulance. Suspect is on the loose, it’s Frank Gentry. Shelby Bruce is the victim,” I choke out.