Love You to Death (12 page)

“What’s the point? The honeymoon is ruined
now,” I whined.

My insides felt like Jell-O, but I had to do
this. I held my breath as I waited for his response. It wouldn’t be
good. I glanced at the bathroom door. It was halfway open.

Cass peered through the opening, one eye and
half his face showing. He was giving me the look that preempted all
the physical attacks. Eyes narrowed into slits, lips compressed
into one thin slash. With courage I didn’t really feel, I went
on.

“Don’t give me that look. It is. You puked
all night and now our flight is halfway to the strip. I don’t wanna
go now. I wanna go home.”

A second or two went by. I measured them with
the hammered beats of my heart.

“You’re an ungrateful wench,” he bit out.

“And you’re an inconsiderate jerk.”

I barely got the words out before he flung
the door the rest of the way open. It bounced off the wall with a
deafening crash. He was on me in the blink of an eye. I covered my
face with my arms. I got two quick jabs to the stomach which pushed
me into the dresser, knocking over a lamp. His hands pulled at my
hair and when I reached up to free myself from the painful grip he
landed one good punch to my left eye, knocking me to the floor. I
took him with me. It was over pretty quick.

“Why do you make me do these things to you?”
he screamed, getting off me to pace the room. “I did this all for
you, and this is how you repay me?”

I was going to throw up. As fast as I could,
which wasn’t very fast at all, I got to my feet. Hunched over,
cradling my bruised abdomen, I made my way to the bathroom.

“This is your fault, Arden!” I heard him
complaining, “You and your smart mouth.”

For once I agreed with him. But it was for a
very good cause. I knew he wouldn’t take me to Las Vegas with a
black eye. Especially since I made it known I didn’t want to go
anyway.

“You don’t want a honeymoon?” he yelled.
“Fine! Twenty years from now don’t come crying to me that you never
got a honeymoon.” I heard something crash and break against the
wall. The phone rang.

“Hello...” I heard him say. “No, no, we’re
fine. My wife is a little clumsy. Thank you for checking.” He
paused. I assumed listening to the person on the other end. “Can
you arrange for a limo to pick us up in an hour? Great, I
appreciate it. Thanks.”

Hang on Stewie.
I smiled with a warped
sense of success.
I’m coming.

Chapter
Twelve

A couple wearing matching black business
suits hurried past me. They never batted an eyelash. I was glad. I
wanted to blend in. This was my sixth trip to the lab on Greene
Street. It was easy to arrange my schedule without making Cass
suspicious. He wasn’t feeling well lately.

Poor Cass. He’d been sick for the last two
weeks. He had all the symptoms of the stomach flu, but the doctor
couldn’t seem to prescribe anything to make it go away.

I guess it would help if I stopped feeding
him undercooked eggs and maybe it would lessen his bouts of
diarrhea if I quit replacing the sugar for his coffee with
Sorbitol. Just a few tricks I learned from watching the I.D.
channel.

It was working twofold for me. Cass was less
watchful of me and there was no hanky panky going on. I knew it
couldn’t last forever. I was risking serious medical injury to
Cass. I didn’t mind killing him, but I didn’t want to go to jail
for it.

I had to find Stewie, and I had to do it
soon. I leaned against the brick building across the street from
BME, wedged behind a decorative potted tree that blocked any one
from seeing me. My old faithful backpack rested on the ground at my
feet. It felt good to be here. Not that I wanted to be on the
streets again.

It was the freedom I liked. I wasn’t guarded,
anticipating a backhand or full in the face slap. I was just me
again. A car pulled up to the curb outside the lab. I reached down,
grabbed my pack, and slowly settled it over my shoulders. I tamped
down the urge to holler out his name when I saw Stewie climb from
the back seat of the sedan.

He looked okay, but his shoulders were
hunched and I could hear his nervous keening.

Jerks!

I didn’t recognize the short man who was
coaxing him into the lobby, but my guess was he was the mystery man
with the ten grand.

Once they were inside I looked around, making
sure no one saw me, and ran across the street. I knew there was no
way Cass could be here. I’d given him an extra whammy this morning,
a little Ex-Lax in his chocolate chip muffin. But my stomach was
knotted and that sick feeling of trepidation was making itself at
home inside my gut.

The same bubble-headed brunette was manning
the reception desk. She was totally engrossed in a conversation
with the UPS guy, making it almost too easy to slip past her into
the stairwell.

I couldn’t risk using the elevator in case
Shorty was on his way down. My sneakers squeaked on the painted
cement steps as I rushed them two at a time. On the second floor, I
cracked open the door enough to make sure no one was nearby before
stepping out into the empty hall.

Here is where my plan fell apart. I didn’t
know what lay behind the mysterious door number six. Was there a
waiting room? Or would I walk right into the room with Stewie,
Shorty, and the ignoramus I met the last time?

Only one way to find out.

I moved in slow motion, hardly breathing. The
latch clicked when I turned the door knob. It sounded as loud as a
herd of elephants. I paused, waiting for God only knew what. But no
one came rushing out from the other side. I peeked into the room.
It was empty. The room could’ve been a waiting room, but there were
no chairs or tables with magazines; there was nothing. Not even a
‘no smoking’ plaque on the wall.

The only other door was to the right. I
tiptoed over to it and pressed my ear to the wood. I could hear
Stewie’s high pitched mewling.

“Pipe down, kid.” I heard Shorty say. “You do
this all the time. You should be used to it by now.”

“It hurts,” Stewie whined.

“I’ll give you two lollipops if you shut off
the siren.”

Stewie stopped.

“Alright, here we go,” another voice said.
Stewie whimpered.

“Wait a sec, Doc,” Shorty said. There was
rustling. “Here you go, kid. Batman always does better than you
with the needles.”

This caught me off guard. Shorty was a
semi-decent guy. Sure, he was exploiting a handicapped boy, but he
was nice about it. Who knew creeps had hearts? I wish I could see
into the room. What were they doing to him in there?

I heard Stewie scream. I jumped away from the
door like I’d been shocked. I didn’t bother to think it through. I
flung the door open. Two men, both looking at me with stunned
expressions, stood frozen in place.

The doctor was jabbing Stewie’s thigh with a
huge needle while Stewie was tightly strapped to a table. Shorty
was leaning over Stewie to keep him still.

“Cherry?” Stewie whimpered.

“Get away from him!” I screamed.

The doctor withdrew the syringe as Shorty
unfolded himself and stepped back.

“Cherry, I knew you weren’t dead!” Stewie
tried to smile but grimaced.

“You jerks! Undo those straps,” I ordered.
They stared at me. “Now!” I shouted.

Shorty’s grin slithered into place. He eyed
me head to toe. I knew the look. Pig.

“You’re Cass’s girl,” he said. “Does he know
you’re here?”

“I told you to get those straps off him!” I
yelled, ignoring his question.

Shorty barked out a laugh. “You’re a little
outnumbered, sweetheart.” He took a step toward me.

“Ever been kicked in the groin, Shorty?” I
raised a questioning brow. Shorty stopped smiling.

“Cass said you were feisty.” He scowled. “He
isn’t going to be happy when he finds out you’re here.” He pulled
his cell phone from his pants pocket and flipped it open.

I panicked. I couldn’t let him call Cass! In
two long strides, I crossed the room and slapped the phone out of
his hand. It fell to the floor with a sick clap.

“You stupid girl!” Shorty picked up the
phone. He pressed a few buttons and swore. “You owe me a new
phone.”

“Put it on Cass’s tab,” I quipped, reaching
for the buckles of the restraints that tied down Stewie. I glanced
at the doctor. It wasn’t the ignoramus from before. This was a
little Asian guy with Mr. Magoo glasses.

“You, Magoo, help me unbuckle these.” He
hesitated. “Now! Or I’m calling the cops!” Those were the magic
words. Once they were all unbuckled I helped Stewie sit up.

“Ouch. It hurts,” he cried. Tears puddled
then streamed from under the mask.

“You idiots! What did you do to him?” I
glared at Mr. Magoo, who quickly looked to Shorty.

“He’s fine, Arden, just a little sore,”
Shorty explained impatiently.

“Oh yeah? Well, hop your butt up here. Let me
see how you like it.” Shorty’s brows pulled down into a frown.

“That’s what I thought.” I looked around for
Stewie’s clothes, found them draped over a chair and shooed him
behind a lab screen.

“Cherry, I’m so glad to see you. I prayed and
prayed you’d find me,” Stewie said from behind the curtain.

“I know buddy. I’m really glad to see you
too. Try to hurry, okay?” I said with a soothing voice. I never
took my eyes off the two men in the room. Magoo looked harmless,
but those were the ones you had to watch.

“I want some answers.”

They both stared at me in silence.

“Am I speaking Chinese? What are you morons
doing to Stewie?” I said, raising my voice.

“Always with the mouth.”

I froze. Things just went from bad to worse.
Cass stood at the entrance of the room, his hands casually tucked
into his pockets.

“Imagine my surprise when I heard you
screaming as I stepped off the elevator.” He smiled tightly, his
eyes narrowed into slits. He looked like a shark. My mouth had gone
dry. My hands started shaking.

“But I’m equally as sure you’re just as
surprised to see me.” He settled against the door jam. “I was
sitting at my desk this morning, contemplating that nice big
chocolate chip muffin you baked for me when my lieutenant came over
for some paperwork. He was off to a bad start. Poor shmuck hadn’t
had any breakfast. I thought I’d be nice so I gave him my muffin.”
Cass shook his head slowly. “About fifteen minutes later he’s
running to the bathroom. That’s when it hits me. I mean, I’m a
detective I should have picked up on it two weeks ago, but I never
thought you’d be stupid enough to poison me.” His mirthless chuckle
made my skin prickle with goose bumps. He pushed off the door jam
and stepped into the room. I retreated.

“So,” he drawled, “you want answers? I can
tell you whatever you want to know. Ask away.” His voice was calm,
but I knew the tick in his jaw meant he was barely holding back. I
was in hot water any way I looked at it. No use trying to talk my
way out of it now. I licked my lips nervously. Cass grinned
knowingly.

“What are you doing to Stewie?”

“Stewie. Always Stewie,” he complained.
“Stewie is one of many volunteering his body to medical science.
He’s donating his bone marrow.”

I looked at Magoo who nodded at me. I’m not a
doctor or scientist, but I do know that extracting bone marrow is
very painful and can be very dangerous if done too much to one
person.

“You’re insane. All of you,” I uttered
softly. Cass’s eyes glowed menacingly.

“Insane? How insane is it to make ten
thousand dollars a month? Hmm? Is that
crazy
?” He drew out
the word. I remembered the last time I called him crazy. A shiver
rippled up my spine.

“Why Stewie?”

“Why not? He’s homeless. There were no hoops
to jump through or red tape to worry about. Look at him.” Cass
waved an arm at the screen. I didn’t look. “He’s perfect. No one
cares about him. He’s a nobody.”

“I
care. He’s somebody to me,” I said
forcefully, sounding braver than I felt.

Cass shook his head again, bewildered. He
raised his eyes to the ceiling then looked back at me.

“What is so special about that retard?” he
asked. The wounded look in his eyes baffled me. He was jealous of
Stewie?

“He’s a good person. I can trust him. He
never lies to me.” I jutted out my chin defiantly.

“Is that all?” Cass sighed. “Are you sure
there isn’t more to it? Did you sleep with him?”

Shorty snickered. I flashed him a warning
look.

“Don’t be disgusting.”

“We’ll find out when we get home so it’s best
to tell the truth now.”

I gulped back a hard knot of dread.

“How’d you know, anyway?”

I clamped my mouth shut.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’re mine.
You legally belong to me...” His sentence trailed off. Then he
smiled perversely and said, “Your crime deserves a fitting
punishment though.”

Let the punishment fit the crime.

I’d said that to him so long ago. If I’d
known he would use it on me so much since then I’d have never
brought it to his attention.

“We’re leaving,” I said.

“Yes,
we
are,” Cass replied. “Get the
kid Ray. Take him home.” Shorty moved toward me. I was blocking the
screen.

“Back off, Shorty.” I braced my legs apart,
readying a defense.

He looked at Cass. Cass’s face was thoughtful
as he watched me. He was analyzing the situation.

“I should have told them to kill him in the
park,” he sighed, agitated.

“What did you say?” I couldn’t have heard him
right.

“I think you heard me just fine.” Cass’s
mouth turned up in a cruel grin.

“Those kids in the park... that was you?” My
head started spinning. Cass was behind the attack?