Chapter 3 - Kelsey
I can see Greg's face reflected in the rearview mirror. His eyes are wild and desperate. I know I need to escape. Only I don't know how. I need time to think. For the moment, I decide I should keep him talking, distracted.
"Greg, you don't have to do this," I plead, wiggling my wrists, hoping to loosen the ropes encircling them. "If we get Luke, he can help you figure out a way to get Emmie back."
Greg glances at me using the rearview mirror. His eyes are cold and hard. "This is the best way, Kelsey."
I try to be inconspicuous as I work furiously at loosening these ropes binding my hands. "There has to be another way. One that doesn't end up with Penelope's mother dead. You don't want her to lose her mother."
"You're kidding, right?" he asks, full of disdain. "You don't have to die, Kelsey. This is the thing I've always hated about you. You're selfish and self-involved. If it's not your way, then it's just wrong and dire and the world is coming to an end."
He breathes out, and changes lanes on the road. "Tell them you renounce this stupid anti-Life First sentiment, and raise your daughter in peace in FoSS. It's really simple."
Gee, I had no idea my brother-in-law hated me and thought I was selfish until this very moment. Yes, I guess I should have clued in when he kidnapped me. But, I thought that was more about saving Emmie's life. Now, it sounds like kidnapping me and turning me over to FoSS is something he'd be happy to do without Emmie being institutionalized.
I am not sure where to take the conversation now. Arguing with him seems like a bad idea. FOSS wants me dead. When I was selected, or marked, to donate a kidney, it was because of the Life First policy, which dictates we endeavor first and foremost to preserve human life, even if it means sacrificing our organs. Unfortunately, I don't think FoSS cares whether I renounce my beliefs or not. They think I've started a movement and I think more than anything, they just want me dead. But, I won't be able to convince Greg of that. Given his disdain, I don't think I can appeal to his sympathy for me. I try pulling my wrists apart some more, but it seems like the ropes are getting tighter, not looser.
I look out the window and see a road sign indicating we are getting closer to the border. I have to think of something right now. Once we were in FoSS, I am dead, and I have no way to make sure Penelope is safe and returned to Luke.
"OK, I'm selfish," I tell him. "I admit that. I'm sorry."
I can hear the panic in my voice. This is not going to go over well. I have to compose myself. I look at Penelope, innocent in her car seat. I have to figure this out for her.
"But, just because I'm selfish doesn't mean you should trust FoSS," I say, trying to steer this conversation away from me and my misdeeds. "Just because you deliver me doesn't mean they'll give her back to you."
His eyes find mine in the mirror again, and part of me hopes he'll crash the car — not a real smash-bang-everyone's-dead-crash — but a fender bender that will bring help my way. His eyes express uncertainty.
"You can't game me, Kelsey," he says, without much force.
"I'm not trying to game you," I tell him. "It's just that you could ruin my life and Penelope's life and Luke's life and still not get Emmie back."
He shakes his head, the helmet of black hair bobbing rhythmically in front of the head rest. "We've signed an agreement. I bring you in, and they give me Emmie. Simple as that."
"What if they rip up the agreement when you hand me over?"
He is silent; I am too. My skin is bleeding now. The ropes are cutting into me way too badly.
Penelope is still asleep, her red curls falling into her eyes. Please dear God let her stay asleep. If she sees me like this, tied up, bleeding wrists, she's going to panic and cry. Who knows what Greg will do. If anyone had asked me yesterday if my brother-in-law would hurt anyone, I would've said no. But, now I can't trust him at all. I can't trust that he won't hurt my daughter if I do something he doesn't like.
"Kelsey," Greg says, softer, "I know you don't want to go back to FoSS, and the truth is, I don't really care to take you back. But, this is the position we are in now. So, buck up and deal with the situation. Stop trying to use Psych 101 to get me to let you go. It's not gonna happen."
I grit my teeth. This is so frustrating. Mainly because I know he is right. There is nothing I can say to him that is going to change his mind. I am a selfish person, his wife isn't, and he is going to sacrifice me for her.
If given the choice, I wonder if Luke would do the same: sacrifice someone else — someone who had never hurt him — to save my life.
No, no he wouldn't. He'd find another option. Something that didn't involve hurting people to get what he wanted.
"How is she?" I ask him.
"Who?"
"Emmie."
A long breath sails out of him, almost as if he is being deflated, having all that is in him sucked out. "She's not well, Kelsey," he says. "She could get well with medicine, but they want you back before they give her that help."
I want to reach out and slap him. I would if I weren't tied up and bleeding. "Now it's my turn to ask: are you kidding?"
"What the Hell's that supposed 'ta mean?" he asks, indignant.
"You may think I'm a selfish bitch, but I'm not withholding psychiatric medication from someone who needs it," I spit. "And you really think they're going to let her come back to you when they won't even help her get well."
He reaches his hand up and pulls it through his hair. "The reason they won't help her is you," he shoots back with venom. "Anyone else they would have helped a long time ago. But, because she's Luke's sister and he's with you, they won't help her. So, if you hadn't up and walked out on FoSS without doing your civic duty, my wife would be fine."
"Her break down is not my fault. And it's FoSS that won't treat her, not me."
He glances at me in the mirror once more, eyes full of anger and pain. "It is your fault Kelsey. Don't you get that? You never do get anything unless it revolves around you, do you?"
I soften my tone. "I'm sorry, Greg, I don't understand how it's my fault. I thought you said it was the stillborn."
"It was," he says. "That was the trigger."
"So I don't see how that can be my fault." I manage to sound gentle even though I am frightened by the situation. Despite my earlier desire to soften him up and escape, it seems I am only making him angrier. At me, no less.
"Let me ask you a question, Kelsey: Were you surprised to learn Emmie was pregnant?"
Whoa. I'm not sure where he's going with this. I think back to Luke telling me. And the truth is that I was surprised. "A little," I say, tentatively, not wanting to anger him with the wrong answer.
"Why?" he asks, as if my answer was correct.
I want to answer correctly again, so I try to think this through. It's a tough one, because the why is hard to pinpoint. It just seemed that Emmie never really wanted to mother more people. With her own mother mentally ill and a father who worked all the time, she'd lost her childhood mothering Luke and Chase. It was as if she'd given all her love to her younger brothers, done all the mothering with them, and she simply wasn't interested in it. I mean, she is 10 years older than Luke and she doesn't have any kids.
She'd been pregnant once before, and that had been at Greg's insistence. When the baby didn't make it, they seemed resigned to being childless. "I don't know exactly," I say softly. "She just seemed happy to have raised Luke and that's it."
We are at a stoplight. He turns and flashes a smug grin. "See, you can actually think beyond yourself if you pay attention, Kelsey."
He turns back to the road. "Somewhere deep, I think she did want another baby, but on the surface, she was done. Luke was her baby. She loved him like a son, and she was proud of him and content with him and that was enough. She was also scared about mental illness and pregnancy and being like her mother. It was the stillborn that caused her mother's descent into madness," he says with a sigh. "I guess she was right to be worried, in the end. It's what caused Emmie to go mad, too. But, she was pregnant, and she wanted a baby because she missed her baby. She missed Luke. She missed Luke because you took him away from her. So, this started with you, and it's going to end with you."
I want to kick the seat. I know I can't, but I really want to. This is surreal. At least I can see why it is so easy for him to kidnap me. He's put all the blame for this situation on me. And maybe he is even right. Maybe, Emmie would be fine if I had just done my duty and not taken Luke from her. I don't know. What I do know is, Penelope and I need to get out of this car and away from Greg. "I'm bleeding," I say.
His eyes glance back in the rearview again. I hold up my bloody wrists. He rolls his eyes. "Trying to escape, huh?"
"No," I insist. "I just want the ropes to loosen. They're too tight."
"It's a constrictor knot," he informs me, dispassionately. "The more you try to loosen it, the tighter it gets."
I nod, though I'm not sure he notices. What he said makes sense. I wish he'd told me that from the get-go. I probably still would have tried to loosen them, but not for as long as I did.
"I'm a bad person, and I've caused problems for Emmie. I realize that," I say, trying to sound forthright, "But, Penelope doesn't deserve to see me like this — my wrists covered in blood. It's going to scare her. Can you please just stop, loosen the ropes, and maybe wipe up some of the blood?"
He sighs. "It's just 15 more miles till we get into FoSS. I'll do it then," he says.
"The ropes have already cut my skin. What if they slice into a vein or something? Can you just stop and make it more comfortable for me? I promise you I won't try anything. I just want a little relief. And it will really help Penelope if I'm not covered in blood when she wakes up. You know Emmie wouldn't want to upset Penelope."
He doesn't look back at me, but I can see him in the mirror. He is contemplating what I said. He keeps driving, and after a minute more passes, I am feeling desperate enough to say something that could sway him, but also runs the risk of further enraging him. "Penelope is Emmie's niece. Think of what Emmie would say if she found out you let her wake up to find her mother bound and bleeding in the back seat."
He still doesn't speak to me, and I'm not sure what to make of it. He could be hostile to me for trying to use Emmie to play on his sympathies. Unfortunately, that's the only option I have left at the moment. I feel the car slow and in a few moments we are easing to the side of the road.
We pull to a stop, and he gets out, leaving the car parked and idling. Instead of opening my door to check on me, he goes to the trunk. I look out the rear window, but all I can see is the top of the raised trunk door. When he closes it, he has something gray tucked under his arm. Finally, he swings around to my door. He is about to open it, so I get ready. I know this is the only chance Penelope and I will have to escape.
* * *
If you'd like to see the first seven chapters in one download, feel free to get the preview book at Google Play, https://play.google.com/store/books/details/RJ_Crayton_Third_Life_Taken_Preview?id=PylABAAAQBAJ, or my website: http://rjcrayton.com/books/third-life-taken/third-life-taken-preview-book/