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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.
63: Powder Springs
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Sunday, February 26 (cont.)
High from adrenaline and confused by a terrified elation in my chest, I blinked away my tears.
Based on the road signs, they'd taken me past Powder Springs.
Did Powder Springs have a police station?
I was about to find out. If nothing else, I could pull over to any random Walmart or restaurant and ask for help.
I'd just turned left on Richard Sailor's Parkway when an army of police sirens rushed to where I'd come from, and I wondered if they were chasing after me but I didn't dare to find out in case Victoria or Peter's dad tailed me. I checked behind me before I opened my locket and pressed the button. I decided to pull over to the left after Wendy's and Publix before I saw a blue 'the city of powder springs' sign in front of a police station.
My face crumpled.
I changed gears wrong, doing exactly what Edward had told me not to do, and the bike sputtered before I took a left and a right in front of the police station. Not remembering how to properly slow down, I crashed Edward's bike into the police station, hopping off just in time to avoid face-planting into the brick wall. My shin got caught up in something sharp, but I had no bandwidth to care as I slapped my hands against the wall, catching myself. I limped to the front door.
They were closed.
Of course. It was Sunday.
Taking a shaky breath, I looked around. A few cars parked in front of Wendy's, so I limped back to Edward's bike. I strained to lift it up.
Holy shit was it heavy.
I set Edward's bike up against the wall of the police station before I slid on top of it, kick-started it, and drove in front of Wendy's. I parked the bike (properly this time), and assessed the damage I'd caused.
It might've been the shimmering in my eyes but I couldn't see any.
I felt drained yet full of inexplicable energy, like the adrenaline in my system had ran out but my body couldn't comprehend how to feel now.
I'd just decided to go inside when a black man in a business suit, holding a paper bag, exited. I must've looked quite a mess because the man stopped when he was about to pass me.
"Are you okay, ma'am?! Did you crash your bike? Do you need any help?"
There was something so unexpected in his kindness that I struggled not to cry. "Could I use your phone, sir? Only for a moment."
"Of course, of course," he replied, taking out his phone before his lips parted. "You're bleeding!"
A small pool of blood followed my footsteps, and my shin stung but not to the extent that it explained a bloody footprint. I averted my eyes, deciding not to think about it yet. The aches and pains in the rest of my body more than covered for whatever my leg was doing.
My next problem was even more absurd: I didn't know anyone's number by heart. I didn't even call people. Who knew phone numbers by heart? Even if I googled mom's, she had dozens of strangers calling her every second. She wouldn't have been able to filter out my call.
Frustrated, I returned his phone and absent-mindedly pressed the button in my locket, reassuring the stranger multiple times that I was fine and that my parents would pick me up. Just as he prepared to leave, a loud helicopter flew over us, focusing its flashlight in front of the police station before it turned and blinded us with its light.
"Hands in the air!" the loudspeaker boomed at the man next to me.
"He didn't do anything!" I shouted, frantic, but the stranger gaped and dropped his food, lifting his arms. He stared at me, squinting, mouth agape, and I was blown away that they'd added a helicopter to my search party.
Four police cars with blaring sirens pulled to the parking lot. I winced at the loudness just as I realized that I should've used the man's phone to call the police, but it no longer mattered.
Policemen rushed out of their cars, pointing their guns at the man beside me.
"He didn't do anything!" I repeated, tears in my throat. "Please! He only stopped to offer help! Check the security cameras! He only helped!"
They lowered their guns and gestured at the helicopter but approached him cautiously. The helicopter hovered over a nearby parking lot, seemingly searching for a place to land.
Multiple cars and a truck pulled to the curb after police cars. Emmett looked ready to slay dragons as he slammed the front door. My parents slipped out with Riley, and a police officer kept others away as dad ran ahead to hug me. He cupped my face, his eyes shimmering as he assessed my injuries and the handcuffs dangling from my wrist.
"I'm so sorry, dad," I whispered. "I'm sorry."
Incapable of words, he shook his head and pulled me tight against him, holding me for so long that mom had to poke him to get a turn. Mom caressed my hair as she hugged me.
"Well, at least the gray hair will be real, soon."
I laughed in spite of myself. My parents' eyes were bursting with questions, and yes, anger and relief, but paparazzi had exited the cars behind Emmett's, so my parents said nothing.
My shin felt like it split in two as I crouched next to Riley, but I persevered.
"You are the best little brother anyone could've hoped for," I told him before I had to swallow the heat in my throat.
His eyes went comically wide. "I thought you had to have the same mommy and daddy to be brother and sister."
"No. No, you don't. Because you're mine." Smiling through my tears, I held out his toy to him. "Your dinosaur saved me. Do you think I can keep it?"
Riley's lips trembled. "You will really be my sister? Will you read all the books to me as Yamamï forever?"
I laughed, knowing he'd grow out of it. "Sure thing, buddy."
I hugged the boy. Dad pressed his lips tight together so as to try to hide that he was crying. I, too, sniffed, looking back and forth between my parents, taking an unsteady breath.
"Where's Edward?"
A nearby policewoman who'd been waiting to speak stepped forward, talking like she was forcing herself to behave normal around me, Bahati. "We've just received word that your boyfriend was found in the basement of the house your kidnappers intended to take you. He's scuffed up and, we suspect, drugged, but he's lucid and insisted on coming here before being seen by paramedics. He should arrive soon."
"Thank you, ma'am." I grimaced from pain as I stood up. "Did you catch them?"
"We caught Victoria and Carl Masen but not the third person. We suspect him to be Daniel Morgan out on bail with Victoria Masen but we'll confirm that later."
"Was Victoria—?"
"She has a broken nose and signs of internal bleeding, but nothing else. I suspect your escape had something to do with how we found her?"
I sagged in relief but didn't say anything.
Mom returned my phone to me, having picked it up from Edward's front lawn. The man who'd offered for me to use his phone approached me shyly for an autograph for his boyfriend, much more awkward and in awe around me now that he knew who I was. He'd been through enough hassle just for offering his help to a virtual stranger that dedicating an autograph to his boyfriend was the least I could've done.
Emmett was fuming but didn't say a word as he and Travis formed a brick wall between us and the paparazzi. Police officers had just stepped closer to talk to me when two men in uniform appeared with Garrett, presumably from the helicopter. Concern and relief were written all over Garrett as he hugged me.
"Helicopters, really?" I asked when he pulled back.
Garrett's kept his expression carefully neutral when he nodded at my parents but he did not look happy.
His impatient, "Yes, yes," was followed by a glance in the paparazzi's direction before he bore into me with eyes so dark brown they could've been black. He crossed his arms. "That was the most terrifying hour of my life." Garrett pulled out his phone and gave me a half-smile. "Excuse me while I ask the Navy SEALs to pull back."
I laughed, convinced he was joking. He was, right? Was he? Did filthy rich men have connections to special operations forces? Surely not. And even if he did, why would they care (or agree to do anything) about my disappearance?
I didn't know him well enough to be able to tell, but I could appreciate the sentiment.
Police officers made another attempt at getting to talk to me, but we were all distracted by two more police cars parking at the curb, and my heart could've leaped out of my chest when I saw Edward. He slammed the door, sharing a few words with an officer while his eyes scanned the parking lot for me. Apologies, despair and relief swam in his gaze as he found us and ran over the lawn, slower and clumsier than usual.
He had an emerging black eye, bruised wrists, and an unnatural glint in his eyes.
I felt more than heard my parents asking the others to give us a moment of privacy.
Edward stopped next to me. Tenderly, carefully, he put his palms on my neck, lifting my chin and pressing his lips against mine. His eyelashes moved as he took in my bruised wrists, dangling handcuffs, and my bloody footprints.
"Feather-heart," he whispered, almost slurring, lips brushing my ear. He hugged my body so tight I had to blink away tears. "You don't know how scared I was once I, once I… Are you okay?"
I nodded, scared of the way his eyes hadn't quite focused properly. "Are you?"
"I cannot, I cannot—" His voice was thick with tears as he hid his nose in my hair. He spoke slower. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am nothing but trouble for you."
"No," I denied. "Never. Not your fault. Never your fault."
Edward pulled back, but only a little. My heart broke at the emerging black eye, and I was about to ask about it when he rested his forehead against mine. His eyes shimmered with tears even if they couldn't quite focus.
"I love you," he rumbled, with the kind of low, guttural feeling that wrapped my chest in breathless affection.
"So much," I replied before I snuggled against him, hoping that whatever drugs were making him look like a slower, drowsier-looking version of my boyfriend wore off quickly.
A dam broke. All the fear, the adrenaline and exhaustion came out in a strangled sob as I clung to him and soaked his shirt with tears. "Sorry—"
He shushed me, swaying with me, kissing my hair. No doubt I looked quite the drama queen but it took more than a few moments for me to gather myself. I couldn't help it. I was too relieved to have him with me and overwhelmed by the events of the night.
My parents' joy at seeing Edward alive if not fully okay could no longer be contained, and Edward was squeezed into all the prolonged hugs while paparazzi cars multiplied. The sounds of car doors slamming shut was followed by the incessant clicking of cameras. Edward avoided looking in their direction. Emmett and Travis moved to conceal most of us but it became a kind of dance, and I didn't know if hiding us was worth it at this point, anyway.
A group of police officers approached us, making their third attempt at getting to talk to me as a shorter, stockier officer asked, "Will you tell us what happened?"
I was about to agree when Garrett put his arm on my shouder.
"She will say nothing without a lawyer."
Edward and I stared at him.
"Mr. Kamwanga, we are not accusing your daughter of anything."
"That's irrelevant," Garrett replied. "This country has a history of mistreating black people. I'm sure our daughter will give you the information you need, all I'm asking is that she be allowed to exercise her right to a lawyer while giving you her testimony."
The man pursed his lips, his eyes darting to Edward, but Garrett crossed his arms.
"Not before they both have lawyers. I'm sure you'll understand they are first in need of medical attention."
Garrett was not the type of famous actor to be denied in front of paparazzi, and if my parents disagreed with his interference, they kept it to themselves. Mom, dad and Garrett settled on the details of when and where Edward and I would talk to the police before Garrett stepped away to call a lawyer.
Edward squeezed my hand as we sat in the back of an ambulance, getting checked over by two paramedics. Distracting ourselves from the mountain of questions we had to the other, we chatted about inconsequential nonsense when mom gasped, staring at the jeans the paramedic had cut open.
Riley screamed. Police officers turned away their eyes, and Edward pressed my hand against his chest, muttering, "Jesus fuck, baby," against my ear.
"We have to take her to the ER," the paramedic said. "I cannot provide the level of care a wound like this requires."
My shin had a bleeding, vertical cut from my knee to my ankle. A chunk of my skin was hanging loose. It was curious that the skin torn off my knuckles and ankles hurt worse than a deeper wound, but I still avoided looking at it. Riley cried loud enough about it for the both of us.
"Why didn't you tell us?" mom asked, her breathy voice full of concern.
"I didn't even— everything else hurts more," I replied, but just as I'd said it, the stinging burn of my shin almost took my breath away. I felt like the coyote in a cartoon where he ran off a cliff but didn't fall until he realized it. I'd handled the pain just fine until I could see the injury, and now searing pain blinded me.
"80/40," the other paramedic said, releasing the cuff of a blood pressure monitor. "How are you feeling? Light-headed?"
It wasn't an unusual reading for me even without losing blood, but everyone began to pack and arrange for transport. I was made to lie down. The paramedics still hadn't finished assessing Edward, so he hopped on the ambulance after me. Mom joined us in the front seat. Riley cried into dad's neck as the two waved after us, intending to go home, and Emmett gave me a nod without smiling before the doors banged shut.
If Emmett had his way, I'd be grounded for life.
Vehicles tailed the ambulance: Travis in Emmett's truck (Emmett was returning Edward's bike to our place), a police car, and most probably a row of paparazzi eager for more.
We were strapped in. Edward held my hand in his lap as the paramedic began to clean my shin. The burning pain made me dizzy, and I stared at the ceiling as distant sirens and the feeling of relief and safety flowed through me.
Edward's contemplative, self-reproachful way of watching me made my stomach churn. I'd been brimming with questions about the night, but all I could see was the look in his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," I said, squeezing his hand.
Edward kissed my knuckles, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He didn't answer.
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A/N: I adore your thoughts :) thanks for being here!