Commitment Issues (28 page)

I felt an open palm on the side of my neck, and then there was another palm on the other side. It was so warm and soft. I looked up, knowing it would be Wyatt.

It was Mason, and he was outside to do the impossible. Nothing could comfort me. If anything happened to Wyatt, there was no way I could live another day.

"Uncle Wyatt knows how much you love him,” Mason said. “I love him too."

I just nodded. That goddamn angel had said to call him. Rafa said I knew his goddamn number.
Once again I need my angel, and is Rafa anywhere? No.

Mason knelt in front of me and leaned close so our foreheads were touching. This kid had decided that family was more important than celebrating a birthday. He marked his sixteenth birthday by stepping up to be the adult when I couldn't. I was terrified about what might happen to the man I loved, and I loved him more than life itself. All I could think about was that crazy man killing Wyatt. Life had kept Wyatt and me apart for a year, but we were finally together.

Oh God, it was just like Carlos. And now Wyatt was... oh God, I couldn't even think it. We didn't do anything bad. We didn't do anything to deserve this. Wyatt was so sweet, and I was sitting on some fucking asphalt and helpless. I was crying in the arms of a kid.

Mason's uncle and aunt were both being held. Maybe they were being murdered at that very moment, but the kid took time to sit with me. He didn't have to say anything. There wasn't anything for him to say. He held me, and I cried.

When I look back, it was the most selfless gesture that I could remember seeing. Mason let me be afraid. He didn't try to get me to stop crying or to “man up” or to talk. His forehead was against mine, and both his hands were on the sides of my face. He was just there, and he held me. Looking back, I know it was the most loving thing anyone ever did for me, and he was there for me without ever asking for anything in return. Nobody trained him to do that, and nobody told him to do it.

Mason was firm but gentle. He was there for me on
his
birthday. He held me while I gave him every ounce of grief and terror that I held. He held me until my muscles could no longer shake. Mason spent his sixteenth birthday with me, and he held me until I had no more tears inside.

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"Where is he?” I screamed into my phone. It was on speaker as I drove Debbie's SUV. She had given me the keys after I promised not to do anything stupid. I was out on the freeway trying to drive into harm's way.

"You can't do anything, Sean,” Agent Iacocca said.

"I just want to be there,” I lied.

"South. Interstate 39."

"What kind of car?"

"I don't know,” the FBI agent said.

"Liar."

"No, I really don't know, Sean."

"Where on I-39?"

"It's all I know"—and I hit the red button to disconnect. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew that I had to be there. Jeremy Whitlock had the man of my dreams. He was off on some lethal trip that couldn't end well for Wyatt or his sister or that wounded FBI woman. They were going south at some unknown location on a freeway in Madison, and they were in some kind of unknown car. Great. Just great.

Driving there made me feel better. It was better than just sitting around and being helpless. Driving to my death was better than crying while the action was elsewhere. If the day's events were going to be tragic, I wanted to be there. If the FBI figured out something to do to save Wyatt, I wanted to be there too.

It wasn't like I had been trained in any of this shit. I didn't know how to follow a madman. If I was lucky enough to find him, I didn't have a clue what I might be able to do.

I was swerving and speeding. I had to twist the steering wheel once so hard that it felt like two wheels left the pavement. I heard a thud in the back of the SUV.

"Ouch.” It was Mason.

"What the fuck are you doing here?” I screamed at him, knowing that I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to him. I had to pull off and get him out of the car. I slowed down to the prevailing speed. Mason was in the car.
Shit. What the fuck is he doing in the car? How can I get him out to safety while I catch up to Whitlock and Wyatt?

"I'm here to keep you from fucking up,” he said. “Why don't you try not to hit anybody, and I'll see if I can see Wyatt or Katariina in any of the cars."

"You can't be here, and you can't talk like that."

I was worried about him cursing suddenly?

"I can and I will,” Mason said. “Fucking drive and let me worry about my goddamn vocabulary."

"Could you at least say
friggin'
?"

"Shit, no,” he said.

We drove and drove. I tried to be more careful with the steering wheel, but we were going faster than the rest of the cars. I had to swerve several times, but I stayed on the roadway.

"Flashing lights up ahead,” I said. There was a police car ahead of us. It was in traffic, and it was moving ninety to nothing.

"I see it,” Mason said as he crawled out of the very back. He pulled himself up to the seats right behind the driver.

"Seatbelt,” I said as I spotted a second police cruiser. They were both involved in a high-speed chase.

"I love it when you're forceful, Uncle Sean."

"Bite me,” I said.

"Okay,” Mason said, “but we have to wait until I'm eighteen."

"Don't creep me out, kid,” I said. “I'm in love with your uncle."

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"I can and I will,” I said as I tried to catch up to the police cars. They had to be doing a hundred miles an hour. The SUV really didn't want to go that fast and stay stable. I didn't want to go that fast with Mason along.

When the phone rang, I tossed it back to Mason.

"Hello?” Mason said.

"This is Agent Iacocca,” I heard in the phone's speaker. “Who's speaking?"

"Mason Nelson."

"Are you with Mr. Roberts?"

"He is,” I said loudly.

"Have you gone crazy?” Iacocca said.

"I was a stowaway, and he didn't know I was here until it was too late."

"Sean, I need you pull the SUV over and stop being stupid."

"He isn't being stupid, Agent,” Mason said. “He's driving under my orders."

"Did you threaten—"

Mason hung up the phone and threw it onto the floor of the SUV.

"That was a dumb thing to do, Mason,” I said. “Fucking awesome, but so completely dumb that I don't even know where to start."

"You're welcome, Uncle Sean.” He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “I know you'd do the same for me."

"You know nothing of the sort, kid."

"Yeah, I do. You love Wyatt, and you love me. Plus you're smokin’ hot for an old guy."

"I'm twenty-five, man,” I protested. “That isn't old."

"Yeah it is,” he laughed. “It's ancient from where I sit. But you're still sexy, and you're a big radio star."

I just shook my head. “You're a kid and a pervert,” I said through my teeth. I appreciated Mason's effort to lighten the mood, but I was concentrating on my driving. I was concentrating on staying up with the chase.

"Anyway, I'm thinking about writing a made-for-TV movie about my adventures."

"Help me get Wyatt out safe, and I might help."

"I'll help you with Uncle Wyatt, but I ain't sharin’ the story. Movie rights are mine."

"Bitch."

"You aren't supposed to be talking to a kid like that,” Mason said as he moved close to my ear. He ran his finger around my ear.

"You're right. I'm sorry,” I said as I swatted his hand away. “You're an asshole fucking bitch."

"Much better. I love you, Uncle Sean, and one day I want you to carry my babies."

"Pervert,” I said.

"Thanks for noticing,” Mason said. “I am a pervert, but don't you think that I carry it well?"

Boom
went the back of the car. Something hit us. When I looked around, I saw that it was Jeremy Whitlock at the wheel of another vehicle. Mason and I had been talking, and I hadn't seen the maneuver. It sent one of the police cars into a railing on the shoulder. Another police car crashed into the Jersey barrier in the middle of the road and went flying over into oncoming traffic.

Boom
came another hard hit.

"Shit,” Mason said.

"You okay?"

"Peachy,” he laughed. “I hope that asshole's insured. I can prove whiplash after that second hit."

I hit the gas, and the SUV lumbered to life. We got back up to speed in passing gear. Jeremy Whitlock stayed right with us.

"I can't outrun him,” I said.

"Maybe you don't have to."

"See any more police?"

"No, but when I tell you to, ease off the gas,” Mason said as he crawled up to the front seat.

"Seatbelts,” I said quickly.

"Okay,” and he clicked his belt. “Try to get our front wheel alongside their back wheel or bumper."

"What are you up to?"

"It's a trick a guy told me about."

"A guy? You're risking everything on something a guy told you?"

"Yup,” he said calmly. “Unless you got a better idea. Cops don't seem able to do anything."

We were down to one car with flashing lights. It was an unmarked car, so I was assuming it was FBI. It could be the car with Mario Iacocca. Whitlock had been able to take out both of the police cruisers.

Why not?
I eased off on the gas. It felt good to know the SUV was slowing. Everything was relative, because we were still going faster than I had ever driven. We were somewhere over a hundred miles an hour. I saw the gas gauge was just beginning to hit E. The SUV was going to be out of the chase before much longer. A big tank of fuel didn't last long in a big SUV when you were cruising on the other side of a hundred.

As we got close to Whitlock's car, I saw Mason signal to Wyatt with his belt. Wyatt looked into the backseat and nodded. I took that to mean that all three of the hostages were belted into the car. Mason pulled on the belt to make sure, but Wyatt just nodded again.

Wyatt was staring at our car. I saw him mouth “I love you” through the glass, and I said the same thing.

"Steady,” Mason said, and I concentrated on my driving. “Ease closer if you can."

I did. We were going so fast, and I had no idea what Mason wanted to do. I didn't have to wait long.

Mason gave a thumbs-up to Wyatt but made it look like a question. Wyatt double-checked the women in the backseat and nodded.

Mason looked intense. He was concentrating, and he did the same hand signal that I had used a few hours before in the radio station.

"Five, four, three, two, one,” he said, and he grabbed the right side of my steering wheel and pulled. We slammed into the side of Jeremy Whitlock's car. It wasn't a huge hit, but it was enough. It was barely more than a tap on the back end of the other car.

Whitlock's car was completely out of control. It was skidding off the freeway. An access road ran along the side of the freeway, and I saw the car zip across that other road. I couldn't imagine how, but it didn't hit anybody on the freeway or the access road. Then Jeremy Whitlock's car hit a curb and was in the air. It started to roll like a corkscrew, but the car smashed into a brand new RV in a dealer's lot before it inverted.

The chase was over. I had been riding the brakes, but I hit them hard when I saw the crash. Traffic on the freeway came to an abrupt stop. Using my horn, I got people to move out of the way. There was a gap in the guardrail along the side of the roadway, and I drove Debbie's SUV through the opening. There wasn't any traffic on the access road. The FBI car was right behind me, and I saw people starting to stand around. Some were using their cell phones to get pictures or movies of the wreck.

I tried to keep Mason from getting out of the SUV, but he was too fast. When I ran up to Jeremy's crashed car to help Wyatt get out of the wreck, I found Mason already at the passenger door. Mason clicked Wyatt's seatbelt and pulled him to the ground. Wyatt was alive, but he was barely conscious. I opened the back door and saw plenty of blood. The crash had made the FBI agent start bleeding again. I started to call for Mason to come help the agent, but I noticed that he was checking Wyatt over. I think Wyatt was breathing, but I didn't say anything.

Mario Iacocca was at the other door and pulled Katariina out. She was the only one of the three who was awake and able to talk. Off in the distance, I could hear sirens. The cavalry was on the way.

Iacocca looked at the driver and felt his neck. He left the driver alone, which told me he was dead.

"Let me help,” the other man in Iacocca's car said. “She's my partner."

I stepped away to let the FBI take care of its own. He was putting pressure on the woman's wound as I turned to Mason. Wyatt's eyes were open.

"Mason,” I said, “he's awake."

Wyatt smiled. “Hi,” he said. “I am so sorry about this."

"Why?"

"It was my ex-boyfriend."

"It was an urban terrorist,” Agent Iacocca said as he sat with Katariina. “He blew up women's clinics around the country and was on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted fugitives. Sean took him down and will be getting a nice reward check."

"Thanks, Mario, but it was really the kid here."

Mason just shrugged and did a little victory dance as two ambulances pulled into the RV dealership.

"How's your partner?” I asked the other agent.

"Don't know,” he said. “She lost a lot of blood, but she's tough."

Katariina was holding the agent's hand. There was blood and glass everywhere, but I saw Wyatt's sister was crying a little. She was smiling, but there were tears too.

"Let me look at you,” a paramedic said to Katariina.

"You can do that on the way to the hospital,” she said. “I'm riding with Susan."

Susan.
Okay, then. So the FBI agent was named Susan, and there was some kind of lesbian love interest starting.

"Are there any straight people in the Nelson family?” I asked Wyatt.

"Daddy,” Wyatt said.

"My dad too,” Mason said.

"Yeah, Toomas."

"There was Uncle Chris,” Wyatt said.