Callum & Harper (37 page)

He dragged me down the steps by my throat. I lost my the other heel as each foot bounced against steps on the descend. At the bottom, he dropped my body and punched me in the stomach as hard as possible, sending vomit all over the pavement.

Tears began to flow and I folded myself into a fetal position to avoid anymore blows to my stomach. The pain was excruciating. A volatile mix of nausea and unbelievable agony pricked at my insides. A thick blanket of darkness approached, begging me to follow it. John repeatedly kicked me. I fought with myself against the black but it beckoned me with every blow from John’s boot. My hands protected my face from each swing of his foot at my head but my fingers suffered intolerably. I manage to scream out in pain once when he finally fractured two fingers on my right hand.

I was granted a ten second reprieve when he moved to the other side of my body but soon sharp needles of extreme torture came with each swift blast of his boot. I arched my back, writhing in agony, the pain was so intense, I couldn’t find my voice and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, just when I thought death was imminent with the very next hit, he stopped.

Kneeling beside me, he cradled my body close to his and I was powerless to stop him, my body limp and I realized I could no longer feel my legs, my arms lay feebly around me.

“
Why must you make me do these things to you, Harper?” He said, squeezing me tighter. I wanted to scream in pain but my throat wouldn’t allow it. “
You make me do these things, Harper!
” He yelled, searching my body wildly with his eyes. “Get up. We need to go.” But I couldn’t move, not a single muscle would obey. “Get up!” He bellowed as I could barely open my eyes. He shook me soundly, urging me to stand. “Get up right now, I said. It’s time to leave.” I just lay slack against him, praying that God would just take my soul. John’s eyes followed the length of my body, realizing what shape I was in and began to cry. “It’s okay,” he said, soothing the sides of my face with his hands, tears staining his disgusting face. “I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand but you left me no choice. You’ll recover from this though and we’ll live the way we were meant to.” He clutched my broken and bruised body closely to his and began to rock back and forth. “You’ll see,” he told me but it was more for himself than for me. “You’ll see. Everything will be just fine. Let’s get you back to the room and we’ll just start over.” Panic laced his voice. “Come on.” He picked me up and I screamed from the movement, positive he had broken my back. He tried to stand me up but my legs fell loosely beneath me.

John suddenly gripped me harder, cocking his head to the side. I strained to listen to what he heard. Laughing, I heard laughing and talking about a block from us, heading our direction. John became noticeably panicky, the indecision in his face. He began to run. Every jolt of his step sent inconceivable suffering up my back. With each ragged movement I yelled in torment until he cupped his hand over my mouth and hugged me closer, squeezing my body hard, with his right arm. I screamed at the top of my lungs but it was muffled by his hand. His breath was hot and harsh across my face in his desperation. “
Quiet!
” He gritted through teeth. “They’ll hear you!”

“
Hey!” I heard one of the men from the approaching group yell. “Hey! Stop that! What are you doing to her!”

Hysteria painted John’s face and his own sense of self-preservation kicked in because he dropped me on the ground and ran toward the pier, disappearing into the darkness.

“
Help me...” I barely spoke out.

“
Oh my God!” A woman screamed and the last thing I remember were a cacophony of running feet coming to my rescue just as the darkness consumed me.

Callum

    “
Here, Ames, let me get that for you. It’s the least I can do after such an incredible dinner,” I told my uncle.
    “No, no. You are a guest in my home and there is no way I’m letting you do this,” Ames countered, stopping my hands with his as I tried to pick up his empty plate.
    “You at least need to let me help. Please, we can share the sink, get done in half the time and leave us enough time to watch some random Christmas flick.”
    He smiled appreciatively. “Fine and stop begging. It makes you look pathetic.” I laughed.

Getting to know Ames was proving to be an almost perfect distraction from my broken heart. I say almost because it only slightly dulled the pain, which is more than I thought possible.

I liked Ames. He was funny as hell, generous, and laid back.

We stacked the dishes in the sink and I began to run the hot water just as the buzzer connected. Ames’ hands were already soaked so I ran, for the second time that night, to answer it, prepared to yell at the prankster kids this time.

“
Yes?” I clipped shortly.

“
Uh, yeah, we’re looking for a Mr. Callum Tate?”

Surprised, I answered. “Uh, this is he.”

“
Mr. Tate, this is the Seattle P.D., we’d like to speak with you, if that’s alright?”

I couldn’t imagine why the Seattle Police Department would want with me near midnight on Christmas Eve. Suddenly, I began to worry, thinking that something had changed with the John Bell situation and the N.Y.P.D was looking to reach me.

“
Of course, come right up,” I said, buzzing the door so they could enter.

Ames walked near to me, drying his hand on a towel. “What could this possibly be about.”

“
Uh, I’m not entirely sure,” I told him honestly. The wait for the police was anxiety filled. I sat at the dining table, my foot tapping at an unreasonable speed.

“
Are you okay, Callum?” Ames asked, sitting in the seat across from me.

Just then, the knock came at the door and I launched myself at its handle, throwing the door open and stepping back slightly. Two uniformed officers removed their hats and asked if they could enter.

“
Of course,” Ames said, gesturing to his sofa.

“
Actually,” the larger of the officers said, “it might be best if you sat down, Mr. Tate.”

My heart beat rapidly and I had trouble catching my breath. I sat and Ames lowered himself next to me in support.
    The officers sat in the chairs opposite us, seemingly taking their time, reluctant to reveal whatever news they were tasked to repeat.
It’s just a message about John, Callum. Nothing’s wrong with Harper. She’s perfectly safe back home.
I foolishly tried to convince myself but deep down I knew that if the N.Y.P.D wanted only to speak with me they would have rang me. Two uniformed messengers meant bad, awful things. My stomach wrenched itself and I wanted to vomit.
    “Please,” I begged, “just tell me.”
    The larger of the two sighed, obviously the spokesperson and leaned forward as if to catch me. I didn’t like where this was going at all. “Mr. Tate are you married to a Harper Tate?” He asked.

My world began to spin and it felt like the floor would drop beneath me. I gulped. “Y-Yes, sir,” I answered shakily, shifting forward in preparation.

Ames looked at me with wide eyes, obviously shocked at having learned I was married but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“
I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Tate,” the larger officer began but I cut him off.

“
Please,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Not Harper...not Harper.” I slid from the sofa and onto my knees hard. All three men lunged for me but I held them away with a quivering hand. “What happened?” My trembling voice asked.

“
She was found not a block from here, badly wounded. She’s been airlifted to Northwest.”

I launched myself at the door and threw it open. I ran down the steps, not knowing exactly where I was going but knowing that if I didn’t move, didn’t do
something,
I would lose my mind. I heard the officers’ steps as well as Ames’ but paid no attention. I looked up the street toward the city and decided to run but Ames caught be before I could flee, throwing my coat over my shoulders.

“
You can’t run to her, Callum! Be reasonable! I’ll drive us!”

   
Ames ran around the building to the garage for his car and I collapsed on the steps of his building.
    “Son, she’s alive, hold on to that,” the smaller officer assured me. I closed my eyes and nodded once in acknowledgment. His hand rested on my shoulder, letting me know he was there. “We’ll escort you there.”

Ames’ car pulled up short at the curb and the officer helped me inside. He climbed into the passenger side of their cruiser and led the way, sirens blaring, to Northwest.

    “
She’s alive,” Ames’ said quietly. “The officers told me she lives, Callum.”
    I turned to my young uncle, unsure of what to say but finally found the words. “Do you really think they would have come to your apartment, given us this escort, if they suspected she would live?” I asked incredulously. My jaw clenched at hearing myself say the words.
    Ames said nothing, only pressed harder on the gas pedal.
    “I can’t live without her, Ames.” I told him but turned inward. “I think I always knew it. I was a fool to think I could come here and forget her.” I looked at his profile, highlighted by the neon lights of his dash. “I’m ridiculous in love with her.”
    “I can tell,” he told me. “Is that why you never said a word about her? You two are no longer together?”
    “In a sense, yes,” I answered, unable to reveal more.
    The drive to the hospital felt like it took hours. My legs were sore from bouncing repeatedly in anticipation. When the emergency room at Northwest came into view, I removed my seat belt and scooted up in my seat. Ames rounded the driveway in front of the entrance and I bounded from the car before he’d even come to a complete stop.
    I ran through the automatic doors and practically assaulted the woman manning the desk. “My wife! Where is she?” I asked.
    “Your name, sir?” She asked professionally.
    “Tate. Callum Tate. My wife is Harper Tate.”

When I said Harper’s name, the woman’s eyes briefly flashed wide before she checked her expression. Her tone softened. “Uh, yes. Um, if you’ll just come with me,” she said quietly.

   
I buried my hands under my arms, hugging myself tightly as I followed her to a single empty room. “What is this?” I asked.
    “Um, I thought you’d be more comfortable in your own private waiting room.”
    “No,” I said, refusing to step through the door. Flashes of the day my parents died came flooding my senses. These were the rooms they put family of patients not expected to live. These were the rooms they stuck you in so you wouldn’t make other families uncomfortable when you lost your shit. I’d been in one of these rooms once before. “No!” I screamed, buckling under my own weight, falling to my knees once more. The woman signaled to someone for help and one of the officer’s from earlier in Ames’ apartment helped me up, leading me into the room I detested with every fiber of my being. They sat me down on a leather love seat and my head fell into my hands. “Just tell me,” I said.
    “She’s in surgery,” the woman said softly, earning a soft, exhausted sigh from me. Her hand went to my shoulder, “but she’s in critical condition.” Tears began to flow freely and my fingers tore into the back of my head. “A doctor will be here shortly to enlighten you more on her condition.” She stood as Ames came into the room. I stood quickly and he hugged me tightly as I lost control of myself.

The door clicked behind the woman, leaving just Ames and I. “She can’t die,” I told him.

The two officers came into the room and waited patiently.

I pulled myself from Ames’ embrace and turned toward the officers. “What happened?” I asked.

Ames and I sat down. “Well, we’ve been in touch with the N.Y.P.D and unfortunately their prisoner, John Bell, had escaped the night he was arrested.” I sucked in a breath. Confusion, anger, and pain flashed across my chest, thinking that I’d left Harper there alone that night. “They’ve been desperately trying to get a hold of the both of you. We confirmed that John Bell was following Harper through surveillance video obtained from airport security. We suspect he engaged her on the plane and, essentially, kidnapped her.”

“
Where is he?” I asked, my jaw clenched, my hands in tight fists on my thighs.

“
We don’t know,” he admitted.

“
Jesus!” Ames said.

“
We’re doing everything we can!” He insisted. “He can’t get very far. We’ve alerted all means of transportation that he is a wanted man as well as the media. He will
not
be getting far.” he paused, thinking. “Is there any place you can think of that he could be hiding?”

“
None,” I answered. “He has no family and I believe he knows no one in the city.”

“
Good.” The officer seemed to relax a bit. “We’ll be checking all hotel and motel establishments in the area. We’ve got men manned at every airport and bus depot. We’ll catch him.” Both officers stood and shook our hands, exiting swiftly. The larger officer stood by the door and turned toward me quickly. “We’ll let you know if there is any progress.”

“
Thank you,” I told him as the door clicked behind them.

Ames and I waited for hours. Each minute that ticked by, the tightness in my chest constricted to unbearable levels. I paced the length of the room at least a thousand times, praying to God, offering myself in her place, if He would just give her back. I knew God didn’t work like that. If He did, I would have had my parents back, but I wasn’t bitter about it. That was life. I just wished He’d bend the rules, just once, for me. Though I didn’t deserve it, I prayed He would.