Page 68 of Domino
I glance at the clock for the thousandth time in the last five minutes. I just can’t wait to get out of here and put my hands on Max to make sure he’s still alive and well.
***
I pull into the driveway and get out of my car. A soft wind blows down the street, the leaves skittering along the asphalt, making a dry, scratchy noise that sounds ominous to me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle and stand up, and I’m overwhelmed by that feeling of being watched again. It’s thick and cloying and sets my heart fluttering in my chest.
Walking up the path to the gate, I feel my stomach turn over on itself. The feeling that something is off, that something just isn’t right, washes over me, and a quiver runs through my entire body. I don’t know what it is, and try to brush it off as being paranoid about what’s going on with Max. But the thought just doesn’t feel right as it passes through my mind. I just have the feeling that something is wrong and that it’s a lot closer to home.
There’s nobody in the backyard, which I find odd. The kids are usually out here playing this time of day. It’s possible that Missy has them playing games inside, and as soon as I shower and change, I’ll go in and check on them to see what’s going on. I’m doing my best to keep the fear and paranoia at bay, but then I step into the guest house and I’m struck by the silence. That and the feeling that somebody’s been in here who shouldn’t have been.
You always know when somebody’s been in your place when you weren’t around. Even though there’s nothing missing or out of place, you can just feel it. I’ve always described it as a feeling of the air being disturbed in a way that’s not normal for lack of any better way of describing it. But it’s a feeling I’m having in spades right now as I stand in the middle of the living room, only adding to the feeling of something being very, very wrong.
My first thought, of course, is of the cartel. I worry that something went wrong, and that Max is dead, and now they’re coming after everybody connected to him. The idea that they could come after Cole and me hadn’t occurred to me until just this moment, and as it does, it sends a current of ice water flowing through my veins.
My heart racing and my body trembling, I run out of the guest house and bound up the steps to the back door. Not wanting to scare anybody if this truly is just something in my imagination, I open the door and walk in as calmly as I can.
“Missy? Mark?” I call out.
I don’t hear anything at first, adding to my deep sense of unease. But then, I hear a floorboard squeak somewhere deeper in the house, telling me somebody is there. I don’t let out a breath of relief, though, the fact that they didn’t respond to me tightens the pressure I feel gripping my body.
I walk through the kitchen on legs that are shaking so hard, I’m afraid they’re going to give out and send me sprawling to the floor. I somehow manage to keep myself upright and step through the arched doorway and into the living room. My eyes widen and I’m unable to comprehend what it is I’m seeing at first.
Missy and Mark are both tied to their chairs. Their hands are bound behind them by plastic cuffs, and their ankles are attached to the legs of the chair with the same zip ties. They’re both gagged, and the twins are tied up and gagged as well, though they’ve been laid out on the couch. A bolt of fear shoots through me when I don’t see Cole.
Missy and Mark turn to me as I step through the doorway, their eyes wide, and both of them start to shout, but the gags in their mouths stifle their words. They’re shaking their heads vigorously, trying to impart something that I can’t understand.
“Hello, my love.”
My blood runs colder than it’s ever been as I watch Ryan step through the doorway that leads to the bedrooms in the back. Cole is in front of him, his tiny face streaked with tears and terror painted upon his face. I’ve never seen my son look so scared and it not only breaks my heart, but it sends a deep, dark rage bubbling within me.
When he sees me, Cole runs to me and throws his arms around my waist. I hold him close to me, wrapping him up tight, then glare at Ryan, doing my best to quell the fear that’s rippling through me.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It helps to have friends who know how to search employment records. I knew you’d have to get a job sooner or later, so I just had him wait and watch until your Social Security number popped up in the IRS database, and… voila. Here I am.”
Shit. I never thought he’d have the wherewithal to think of sitting on my Social Security number like that. It never occurred to me that he’d do something so… smart. That’s not the Ryan I know, which tells me that I really need to be afraid right now. He’s very serious about this, and he’s not going to let it go until he gets what he wants.
I cut a glance at Missy and see that she’s trying to send me a message with her eyes. She’s looking at me, then cutting her eyes toward the kitchen pointedly. It takes me a minute to get what she’s trying to convey, and when I finally get it, it makes my heart lurch. She’s telling me to grab Cole and run.
Ryan looks at me, giving me a feral smirk. “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed my son, too. And regardless of whether you put my name on the birth certificate or not, heismy son.”
“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” I plead. “I don’t want to be with you anymore—”
“It’s not your choice, bitch. You belong to me. I fucking own you. Do you get that? I fucking own your ass,” he shouts.
He starts to walk toward me, but Missy shifts in her seat, somehow managing to snake her foot out slightly. It’s just enough to catch the back of Ryan’s heel and throw him off balance. He seems to be moving in slow motion, pinwheeling his arms as he falls, and when he hits the floor with a thunderous crash, I look at Missy. Her muffled voice fills the room for a moment, and she’s cutting her eyes toward the kitchen again.
Ryan is slowly rising to his feet, his face burning with hatred, his eyes glowing with a murderous intent. Snatching Cole up in my arms, I turn and run.
“Bitch! Get your ass back here, you fucking bitch!”
His voice chases me out the back door. Knowing he can run me down in a heartbeat, I do the only thing I can. I rush into the guest house and slam the door behind me. After setting Cole down, I throw both of the locks.
“Run to your room, baby. Run to your room and close the door. Go Cole. Go now.”
He runs off to his room and a moment later, I hear his bedroom door slam shut. But then, Ryan crashes into the door, shaking it in the frame. I hear wood splinter and it makes my heart jump into my throat. Tears race down my cheeks as I listen to Ryan slamming himself into the door again and again. I see the wood buckling and hear it splintering further, sending shockwaves of terror through me.
I turn around and grab my bag, managing to yank my phone out, hoping and praying the door holds long enough.
