He’d also said to trust him, and I do, although it’s difficult given the circumstances. What if Ralph has a gun? What if he kills Wyatt?
A hiccup of tears, and I slump, giving into them again. Now I’m more worried about the man I love than I am about myself. It’s saying this inside my head that has me acknowledging it as fact.
I love him.
I love him more than life.
What if I don’t get to tell him?
WYATT
On staring at the back doors of the van, I want nothing more than to reopen them, untie Phoebe, and get the hell out of here.
But with Ralph soon to reappear, and likely armed, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. And, anyway, if we simply take off, we’ll always worry Ralph will try again.
He’s gotten too close to give up now.
That’s no way to live, meaning this has to end here and now. I want no shadows cast over our relationship, and for that, Ralph needs to be locked up, preferably with no one dying.
This has me sprinting down the side of the store and around the back. Ralph will pay for what he’s done to Phoebe. He’s frightened her and that bruise on her forehead has me wanting to hit something. Ralph is at the top of my list.
The security door around back is wide open, as it had been last time I called in, the owner liking the through-breeze. A quick check inside is enough to see Ralph chatting to the cashier as though everything is normal.
There’s nothing about his behavior to say he’s in the middle of an active kidnapping, nothing to alert the cashier to anything out of the ordinary. Any eyewitness report would reference a little old lady, not a psychopath.
After watching Ralph gather his purchases, I ready myself to move.
Seconds after he’s left, I’m walking purposefully through the store. A brief nod to the cashier and I exit through the front doors. If I’m taking Ralph down without getting shot or knifed, then I need to take him by surprise.
Fueled by rage, I move quickly and quietly, determined he won’t get anywhere near Phoebe.
So often when I was a kid, I’d had to listen to dad ‘teaching mom a lesson’. And while I’d been too little to do anything back then, the same is no longer true.
It’s this determination that has me right behind Ralph before he knows what’s happening. Much as I want to flatten the guy, I instead grab him by the upper arm, sending his snacks and handbag flying.
My arm snakes around his neck and I tighten my hold. This creep isn’t going anywhere, let alone near Phoebe. I’m wondering how long I’ll need to keep him in the headlock when a police cruiser pulls alongside.
The new Chief of Police doesn’t immediately get out, his focus on his radio call. Soon enough, though, he stands in front of me and Ralph, his stance shrieking outrage and authority.
“Officer, officer, arrest this man!”
Ralph’s words have a high-pitched, old lady quality to them, as if he’s hoping to get away with his disguise. Even the Chief of police appears shocked by my manhandling a sweet little old lady. He soon changes his mind when I rip Ralph’s wig off and dump it on the ground next to the handbag.
“This is the bastard. Ms Jackson is in the back of the van. You want to take care of this trash while I get her out?”
There’s no need to go into specifics thanks to my earlier instructions to Simon. The chief, being a man of few words, answers by pulling a set of handcuffs out the pocket of his vest.
To an accompaniment of the Chief reading Ralph his rights, I wrench open the back door of the van and climb inside. After untying Phoebe, I drag her into my arms, wrapping the toweling robe tight around her, protecting her modesty.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. The Chief of Police is here. He’s got him. He won’t be bothering us again.”
Dropping back onto the floor of the van, I simply sit with her in my lap, unaware of how tightly I’m holding her. Only after she squeaks in protest, do I loosen my grip. However, I don’t let go.
I never want to let go of her again. If I’d lost her, my life would never have been the same. The mere thought of that awful powerlessness has it threating to engulf me.
“I’m so sorry. I said I’d take care of you, and I failed.”
Her response to my apology is incoherent. I need to get her back to the villa so she can rest. She’ll also need to be checked over by a doctor because she’s not looking good, although in my eyes she’ll always be beautiful.
