Maggie May.
Chapter 16
Brady was in Hell itself. Fires, huge plumes of red danced all around him. He heard people crying. Someone was laughing at the demise of the world. It was all being shredded. He could not take his eyes off the signature on the certificate. The significance of what he was looking at could not be comprehended. It was like he needed to get over the wall to safety, but he didn’t have a ladder and the wall was too high. Even if he jumped, he couldn’t keep his footing.
He felt the sweat rolling down the middle of his spine and across his forehead. Drips of perspiration landed on his shirt. The huge wet semi-circles under his arms did not soothe him. He could not make his eyes move.
Riley came up behind him and shook him by the shoulders, making Brady lose focus. He knew he was still in Hell, but Hell was down a long dark tunnel, a smooth shot to oblivion. He sought a quick death. He sought an end to the pain.
“No, no, Brady, hang in there. This is not you. Come on,” Riley was saying.
Brady saw a scuff mark on the coffee table in front of him. It was like a Nike swoosh, odd looking thing, but he found he had to focus on it.
“Get me some water, quick!” Riley’s voice barked. People in front of him bumped into each other. Someone released Brady, unbuttoning his shirt.
“He’s cold and clammy. He’s going into shock.” Brady recognized that person who was a medic, a medic he had trained. Someone else was checking his blood pressure. He couldn’t hear what was being said, because he had great big earmuffs covering his ears. He began shivering.
Everything he thought about the last three years was a lie. It was not reality. It felt like his brain had split into two, and half of it was dead. The other half struggled to make everything work. His heart was racing.
He examined the faces in front of him—shocked faces, some worried faces. He saw one face smiling at him. He knew that face. He hated that face.
Riley was shaking his shoulders again. Somebody slapped his cheeks. Brady’s swift right hand reached up, grabbed that person’s forearm, and twisted it until he heard it crack. A scream pierced the room. He looked down at his lap and saw the slits that dug into his flesh. He’d broken the zip ties all by himself. But it cut him. And just like if a razor ran across his veins, his blood covered his thighs and soaked into the couch. He could even feel it running down the backs of his legs. He still couldn’t move.
His vision was rimmed in a shiny black circle. The circle kept getting smaller and smaller. If he waited long enough, if he just waited until that circle disappeared completely, he would float into nothingness, that place of no pain. He would vanish into nothing, like Maggie did. Maggie faded into the pillow all the time. Maggie was gone. But Maggie was still here? Had he heard that somewhere?
He frowned, looked up at one worried face, and asked the question, “Where am I? Where’s Tate? Did somebody catch Tate?”
Behind him, someone was in pain. Someone else was swearing. Another person gave instructions.
“Here, Brady. Drink this water please.”
Riley was right there next to him, holding the clear plastic cup. Brady couldn’t lift his hand. He wanted to. So he bent his head, leaned onto the water cup, and slurped several cool sips. It tasted wonderful. Then something in his stomach began to roll around as the cold water doused the flames, chased away the demons. It made him cold, and he started to shiver again.
“John? What do I do now?”
Riley was asking for advice from John. John was the medic that Brady trained. He was also in pain. In between sobs and cries of pain, John ordered them to call 911. “He has to get to a hospital and be seen. It could be a heart attack.”
Brady suddenly turned his head. He could see John lying on the floor holding his forearm. Someone was trying to immobilize him, making a sling out of a piece of his shirt. Brady stared at the fractured forearm.
“I did that. John, I am so sorry.”
“Ah, it’s just a little accident,” Riley tried to reassure him. “Here, Brady. Pay no attention. Drink some more water. You feel better?”
“Where’s Tate?” he heard himself say. “Where’s Maggie?” The whistle in the back of his brain continued to scream and then slowly began to fade.
John shouted out to him, “Breathe, Brady. Take a deep breath and lean over. Breathe.”
“John. I hurt you, John.”
“Yes, you did that, Brady. Yep, welcome back. Come back to us, Bones.”
It was Riley, Riley who was shaking his shoulders and moving his upper torso. His legs were warm, and then he saw the blood again.
“This is my blood?”
The reaction from the crowd standing around him was swift. People crashed into each other. There was lots of yelling. A gun went off. Someone said, “Don’t let Rojas get out of here. Find him!”
Riley was speaking to his ear, whispering, encouraging him to come back.
He liked hearing from his friend, his reassuring words. He couldn’t respond except to say, “Good.”
Vehicles pulled up to the lobby area. Several armed men arrived, holding the little conclave at bay. Brady looked up and saw Stanley staring down at him in disbelief.
He started to say something. “How—”
Rojas was tied, both hands and feet, yelling and objecting to being confined. He was lifted by his arm pits by two heavily armed guards and left the lobby area, his screams following him until Brady heard the slam of a door.
A short, attractive woman suddenly appeared, knelt in front of him, and placed her palms on his hands. He noticed the edges of her shirt began to accept his blood.
“Careful,” he whispered.
She smiled. It was good to see a smile. “Brady, we got him. You did it. You and your team did it.”
He recognized her voice as being the one from the phone call. All of a sudden, things started to fit into place. Tate wasn’t here, because he was back in Northern California. Maggie was dead, but maybe she wasn’t. Rojas was gone, because he was the mission. John had something wrong with his arm, something he did. And his best friends surrounded him.
She stood up, leaned over, and shook his right shoulder. “Brady, words cannot express how grateful we are to you. I am going to leave now, but we will be talking again very soon.” She turned.
“Who are you?” Brady asked to her back.
“My name is not important. I’m going to give you some time to collect your thoughts. And then we will have a private conversation. I want you to know that the mission was accomplished. All you need to do now is to just get well, heal yourself. You did it. You all did it.” She looked at Riley, Enemario, and John. She nodded to Carter. “I have to say, I am so impressed.”
Roland Stanley was standing tall and stiff immediately behind her. She wheeled around to face him, and the fact that he was towering over her, almost gloating, did not affect her demeanor one bit. Brady saw in her something of Maggie. She spoke three quick sentences, telling him that he was going to jail and would be brought up on charges for his participation in aiding and abetting a known sex trafficker, prostitution, and the sale of drugs. His entire staff would join him in prison someday. She promised she would have him prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
When she turned around to face Brady again, Roland’s ashen face began to shrivel, and he began to sob uncontrollably. “Get him out of my sight!” Several seconds later, it was done.