"And you're sure you didn't leave it at Mr. Frank's house?"
"No. It's at home. I couldn't find it this morning."
"Didn't you get in trouble for not having it at school?"
Mikey hung his head.
"Yeah. And if I forget it again, they're gonna call Jo and make him come in."
Rachel sighed.
"Mikey, why didn't you tell me earlier?"
He lifted his gigantic eyes upward, his lower lip trembling pitifully.
"I forgot."
The air had turned cold after the sun went down and the mere thought of venturing out again made her shiver. But one look at Mikey's expression, and she was grabbing her keys off their hook.
"Drew, honey, are you okay if I leave the boys with you for a bit?"
"Sure," Drew called from the couch where the opening credits of Disney's Robin Hood were heralding the movie's start.
"Thank you, Rachel. I love you forever and ever!"
Mikey hugged her around the waist. She smiled.
"Don't thank me yet, young man. You're coming with me."
His smile disappeared.
"Awww...but the movie's starting!" he whined.
If Jo had been here, Mikey would've been whisked immediately into another room to talk about his attitude and receive a lesson on thankfulness. Rachel often wondered how Jo had learned his superior and consistent parenting skills, never having had an example in his own father. She knew he'd been in foster care at one time, but from what little she'd gathered, he didn't have good memories from those years, either.
How did you become a good man, Jo?
"Can I at least have a piece of pizza first?"
Mikey seemed to have taken her silence for a 'no' to his unspoken question.
"Grab a piece to go," she said, ruffling his hair.
They were only ten minutes down the road before she ruefully regretted bringing him. He talked nonstop about everything from his hatred of math to how birds managed to poop while flying.
"How do bears even hibernate? Wouldn't they have to pee really bad?"
Rachel laughed.
"I have no idea, Mikey. But I think we're going to find out shortly if it's physically possible to talk someone's ear off."
It took him a minute to process her sarcasm but then his mouth spread into a cheeky grin.
"You wanted me to come!"
She feigned shock.
"Is this my punishment?"
He giggled.
"Anyway, I wasn't trying to be mean. I just want this to be a lesson about responsibility. This isn't the first time you've forgotten things. And I know Jo reminded you," she added, elbowing him playfully.
He shrugged.
"I just start talking and forget stuff.
"What, you? Talking? Nahhhh..."
He giggled and launched into another (likely embellished) story from school.
"Hey!" he yelled suddenly. "You drove passed it!"
"Crap!"
She braked hard, and then decided to pull around the block instead. Coming up from the alley across the street from the apartment, she noticed a police car parked outside the building, which wasn't really odd in this neighborhood, but made her feel safer nonetheless. As she pulled up to the stop sign, she wondered if Jo would still be home or if he'd gone into work early.
He works too much, she thought to herself.
"I think they're arresting somebody," Mikey said at her side.
Her eyes flew to the darkened walkway where two figures were holding up a third between them. A police officer strode in front of them, opening the back of his cruiser. At this distance and darkness, she couldn't make out their faces until the middle figure tumbled to the ground. As the other two yanked him upward, the streetlight that only work 12% of the time flicked on.
It was Jo.
She inhaled sharply.
"That's Jo! Rachel, that's Jo!" Mikey screeched from beside her.
She saw his face for a mere second before he was shoved into the back of the cruiser and the streetlight flicked off again. That second was enough to see that his eyes were closed and there was blood dripping down his face.
"JO!" Mikey screamed, tearing off his seatbelt and fumbling for the door handle.
"No!" she yelled, grabbing his arm and jerking him away from the door.
"They're taking him!" he cried out hysterically, tears pouring down his cheeks.
"Shhhh."
She pulled him into her arms and held him tight.
The last man pulled his door shut and the police car lurched forward. Rachel waited a breath as a truck drove past, and then pulled out of the alley, following at a safe distance.
"Mikey," she said, her voice shaky as she tried to stifle the tears from falling. "I need you to listen to me."
His sobs grew quieter.
"I need you to buckle your seatbelt. Can you do that? Good. Now, I need you to reach into my purse and grab my phone."
"A-are you g-gonna call the-the police?" he sniffled.
"No."
Her heart was pounding as she fixed her eyes on the set of tail lights two cars ahead of her. Who could she call if not the police?
"No, Mikey. Listen to me. I need you to put in my passcode and call Frank. You know his number, right?"
"Yeah."
Mikey wiped his arm across his nose and went to work. Soon, he handed her the phone and she raised it to her ear.
"It's Frank. Leave a message." Beep.
"Frank, it's Rachel. I need you to call me back now. It's an emergency."
She hung up and handed the phone back to Mikey.
"What do we d-do now?" his voice wobbled.
"We're going to follow them, and then call Frank again. Unless you can think of anyone else...?"
They were both silent, staring intently at the police car as though it would disappear if either blinked. Thankfully there was enough traffic to conceal their presence, but as they continued to twist and turn down unfamiliar streets, Rachel realized she had no idea where they were. From the graffiti on the walls of the crumbling buildings and the shoes dangling over power lines, it was clear that wherever they were wasn't a pleasant place.
The cruiser pulled off onto yet another side street and then came to a halt in front of a boarded-up, graffitied brownstone. Not wanting to risk being seen, she followed the car in front of her to the next stop sign, then circled around quickly, coming up the street perpendicular to the house with her headlights off, and parked far enough back so she could observe without being noticed. By then, they had Jo out of the car and were dragging him up the few stairs to the door.
As they reached the door, his head came up sluggishly, and then he jerked away from their grasp, stumbling over a loose piece of cement. The police officer came up behind him, grabbed his cuffed hands, and twisted them painfully as he threw Jo to the ground. From the distance, Rachel couldn't see what happened, but Jo's body suddenly went rigid as though he'd been shocked with an electric current.
Mikey whimpered at her side and she pulled him to her, covering his eyes and whispering useless comforts in his ear. The tears in her eyes began to fall one at a time. In less than a minute, Jo was pushed, dropped, kicked, and forced into the house.
The door slammed shut and Rachel held her breath.
"Mikey," she finally whispered, not bothering to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Where's my phone?"
He sobbed quietly but didn't budge. Leaning around him, she fished it out of the cup holder and tried Frank again.
And again.
"Pick up, dammit!" she begged through gritted teeth.
On the sixth try, he answered.
"Who the fuck is this and why the fuck are you calling me at work?"
"Frank! Oh thank God. Frank, it's Rachel."
His voice softened.
"Rachel? What's wrong?"
"It's Jo," she blubbered, tears flowing freely now. "They took him, Frank. They took Jo."
"What-what are you talking about. Who took him?"
"I don't know," she sobbed. "There was a policeman and two others and they were dragging him out of the apartment and he's bleeding. They're hurting him, Frank!"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Franks voice was hard again. "Where did they take him?"
"I don't know."
She sniffled, trying to get control of herself.
"I followed them to an abandoned building, but I don't know this area. It looks dangerous. Frank, what do I do?!"
"Okay, take a deep breath. Send me your location."
She waited for him to continue.
"Now, Rachel. Send me your location."
She fumbled with her phone, forgetting momentarily how to do what he was asking her. Taking a deep breath, she slowed down, found the location, and dropped it to Frank's number.
"Okay...good, I got it."
His breathing was heavy.
"Not good. Rachel you need to get out of there."
"What? I can't just leave him! What if they move him?! What if-"
"Rachel, it's not safe. You need to get out of there. Is anyone with you?"
She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her.
"Mikey."
"Where are the others?"
"At my place."
"Rachel, you need to get back there now. If someone came for Jo, they could easily come for the kids too. You need to get back there. Shoot me the address and I'll send a friend over to make sure you're safe. I'm going to Jo."
"Okay," she said, backing the car down the street.
"Call me when you get there. I'm gonna need you to tell me everything."
Rachel drove home as fast as she dared, praying the whole way for her boys to be safe.
_______
Light came in flashes, and with it, images. A grid work of bars in the back of a car. Street lights. Scuffed, black boots. Red drops on his jeans. More darkness.
He felt himself being dragged and his eyes opened to gravel and dirt moving beneath him. As he struggled to pull his head up, he felt arms around his. It was enough. He jerked away from them and stumbled back, desperately searching for the quiet voice to tell him this wasn't real.
Hands closed around his, twisting them to an unnatural angle, and he found himself face down on the ground again. Something sharp pressed to his shoulder and a current of electricity exploded through his body, contracting all his muscles simultaneously. It lasted no more than a few seconds, but left him dazed and dizzy.
And then he heard it. The other voice. But it wasn't inside his head anymore.
"Get him up."
He tried to move, to find the voice, to fight back against the rough hands wrenching him to his feet, but found, like in his nightmares, his limbs weren't responding. He dipped in and out of consciousness several times and then jolted as icy water was thrown in his face.
Blinking the drops from his eyes, he lifted his head, the dimly lit room fuzzy at first, then far too clear. His arms, he discovered, were suspended above his head. Two pairs of hand cuffs encircled his wrists, connecting to a chain that had been attached to a large hook dangling from metal beams where a ceiling once had been.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe as Tim had taught him, but already knew it was pointless. He'd been in this position too many times not to know that it was utterly and verifiably real.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up a millisecond before a fist was planted in his gut. His eyes flew open only to be met with a fist to the face. Amidst a flurry of punches, he could make out an angry voice but couldn't place it.
"-think you can *grunt* fucking interfere in *grunt* my marriage."
The blows stopped for moment and then pain shot up his scalp as his head was pulled back.
"Look at me you fucking prick!"
Jo did as he was asked. It took him a minute to recognize the face, but the rage finally gave him away.
It was Tony. Sofia's husband.
"Think you can just steal my wife and get away with it? Huh?"
He shook Jo's head, fingers gripped tightly in his hair.
"I told you to watch your back, you stupid shit."
Jo didn't answer.
Tony's fist smashed into his kidney and Jo grunted as pain shot down his leg. His shoulders already ached from holding up his body, but he still couldn't get his legs to cooperate and support his weight. Tony pushed his head forward and he saw that he'd been stripped to his tattered pair of boxers and that his toes were barely touching the ground.
The punching resumed and Jo began to cough, feeling blood run out of his mouth down his chin. After several minutes, the voice came from a corner in the room.
"That's enough, Yepez."
Jo's eyes searched the room for him, finding his looming form seated casually in a folding chair by the door. His expression resembled that of a man watching a mildly interesting golf match.
"The FUCK?!" Tony spun toward him with clenched, bleeding fists, his face flushed. "I just got started!"
"And now you're finished."
"The hell I am! I've been waiting months for this!"
"And I've been waiting years."
Jo's nightmare stood up from his chair, his expression hot enough to melt titanium.
"Besides, you're an amateur."
He passed Tony and stalked toward Jo, whose breathing was coming in short bursts.
"I have..." he dipped a finger in the blood on Jo's chin as Jo jerked at his touch, and began to trace the scar on his cheek. The scar he'd placed there. He chuckled. "Much more exciting plans for my boy."
Tony dropped his head and shuffled to join his brother by the door. Jo stared at the floor, his skin tingling, nausea, dizziness, pain, and fear all warring for priority.
"Look at me, boy." Carl's voice was low and menacing.
Jo lifted his eyes obediently. Carl smiled at him tenderly and Jo felt the sudden need to vomit.
"There he is."
Carl's smile widened and he reached up to pat Jo's face. Jo flinched away and Carl laughed.
"You did miss me! Well, boy," he murmured, his hand stroking Jo's cheek, then moving to the back of his head. "I have good news and bad news."
His hand gently fisted Jo's hair.
"The bad news, is that this is your last night on earth."
His grip slowly tightened until Jo was sure he was going to rip the hair right out of his head.
"But the good news is..."
His eyes narrowed as they gazed into Jo's, glittering with anger, euphoria, hatred, excitement, and hunger.
"I'm going to enjoy every second of it."