Second Thoughts (9 page)

He stopped. The twins’ argument grew louder. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Max to check on them.

“You got the safety off.” His voice held neither surprise nor alarm.

“Yeah,” Petey said. “She didn’t know how it worked either. I had to show her.”

“So that’s how it happened. My own fault. Should’ve known better than to let her out of my sight.”

“I want you to sit down,” Connie said. She hated that her voice was so shaky. “Both of you. Right there on the couch. We’ll wait for Derek and Chris, then we’ll be out of here, and you’ll have time to…to get a head start…to do whatever you need to do.” She was babbling but couldn’t control that any more than she could control her trembling. She couldn’t even hold the gun steady. “I don’t want to hurt you, either one of you. Now just sit down.”

But Max didn’t sit. Instead he took what looked like measured steps, his gaze locked on hers, and he entered the kitchen. Her back came up against the counter. “Stop it! Don’t make me do this, Max. Please!”

He was almost close enough to grab the gun, and he wouldn’t give it back like Petey had. The trigger was cold and hard. She didn’t want to squeeze it, even doubted that she could.

The twins’ noise was getting louder. She had to ensure the children’s safety. She had to, but Max wasn’t going to back down.

He took another step.

And she squeezed the trigger.

Connie heard a loud click. But nothing happened.

S
he looked stupidly down at the gun. Her whole body had tightened up, as she’d waited for the worst, and now it felt like her muscles had turned into water.

When his hand closed over the gun and he took it from her, she didn’t resist.

“I was wondering if you had the guts to pull the trigger,” he said. “And now I know.” He pulled open the drawer and replaced the gun in it. “That’s twice today I did that—underestimated the so-called weaker sex. I’m going to die a very young man if I keep that up.”

“Uh, Max, you forgot the safety,” Petey warned.

Max paused in the act of closing the drawer. Then patiently he pulled it back out, removed the gun, and reset the safety.

“No bullets,” Connie said tonelessly.

He pushed the drawer closed. “Right. Didn’t want to take the chance of anyone getting hurt. But I didn’t know then that I was the one I’d be saving from getting shot.”

Connie stared at the closed drawer. It had taken all the courage she possessed to pull the trigger, and she was now so bone-weary and brain-tired she was having difficulty with coherent thought.

“Sounds like one of those babies might do an injury to the other one,” Max said gently. “Maybe you better get over there.”

The front door opened and Christopher charged through it. He pulled up short when he caught sight of the twins sitting in the middle of the toy garage. Derek and Moose followed, carrying assorted bags and accompanied by the aroma of fried chicken.

Derek’s gaze found Connie.

“The guns aren’t loaded,” she said dully.

He froze. Moose’s head snapped toward Max. Max shrugged. “She got hold of a gun.”

Derek gave Connie a worried, searching look. Moose looked thoughtfully wary.

“And she pulled the trigger,” Max added. Moose looked even warier.

Derek’s gaze traveled back and forth between Connie and Max, and then settled on her. “You okay?”

She nodded. Her wits were returning, one at a time.

The noise in the corner changed. Petey and Christopher were trying to rescue their garage from the twins and having little success. Instead of fighting each other, the babies had joined forces and were resisting the bigger kids. Making resigned faces at each other, Petey and Chris started entertaining the two tots by running toy trucks around them in circles.

Derek unloaded containers onto the table, Moose got plates, and Max counted out cutlery. Connie watched them. Everything she did, even thinking, seemed to be in slow motion.

Derek looked up a couple times, his gaze traveling between Max and Moose. He appeared to be measuring them.

Max turned his way, caught his look, and must’ve gotten the same impression Connie did. “Uh-huh,” he said. “But remember, with or without bullets, nothing else has changed. There are still three of us, one of you, one of her, and three of them. But if you think you can pull something off, you give it your best shot.” It didn’t appear he’d issued a challenge, however; it was more like a simple statement. He put the handful of cutlery in the middle of the table, and then started placing chairs.

* * *

Derek followed Connie into their assigned bedroom. She was spent, ready to drop. She waited for him to pass, closed the door, and then leaned against it. They shared a long look.

“Trying day,” she said blandly.

His lips curved. “That is a gem of an understatement.”

“If you ever invite me to go fishing again, I won’t.”

She looked at Christopher. His small form sprawled across the bed. He’d crashed early and had gotten a kick out of going to bed in his underwear instead of pajamas. The situation might be a dilemma for his aunt and uncle, but clearly it was an adventure to him. The twins had also gone down easily, much to Moose’s relief, and Connie’s. She was operating on automatic pilot.

Remembering what she’d seen in the big man’s room, she glanced back at Derek. “It looked like Moose is living out of a suitcase, so this isn’t his home.”

He nodded, confirming her supposition as fact. “He’s on vacation. Said something about the rat race having a definite allure when compared to this holiday.” He made a wry face. “Have to agree with him on that one.”

“I don’t get the impression Max is employed, at least not presently.”

“I don’t know. From the look of that tool chest, he must be a carpenter. And he’s sharp, very sharp. He and Moose appear to be good friends, but Max lacks the…” He paused, as if searching for a word, then went on. “Worldliness, I guess, that the big guy has. Max is a very simple, uncomplicated man. But it could be a grievous mistake to underestimate him.”

He glanced at the closed door. “The phone I used was in a back bedroom. Have you—”

“Max said there’s only one phone. In his room.”

Derek gave her an appraising look. “Enough about them. How about you? You seem to be holding up all right. More than all right. If that gun had been loaded, you would’ve had us out of here.”

“I was scared. Still am, but of the situation more than the people. If I hadn’t been so obsessed with protecting the kids, I wouldn’t have been able to pull the trigger of that gun.”

When Derek sat on the edge of the bed, the movement disturbed Christopher. The child rolled onto his stomach, then sprawled out until he covered almost the whole bed.

Connie leaned her head back against the door and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, I agree Max is sharp. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to know what I was capable of, and he kept pushing until he found out.” She stopped and wet her lips, still staring at the ceiling. “Only thing is, I don’t know if I flunked the test or passed it.”

“How dangerous are they?” Derek said musingly, as if he were asking himself as well as her. “Would they do us deliberate harm?”

“I don’t think so. But we’re still not going to get out of here until they’re ready to let us go.” Her gaze lowered to meet his. She gave him a pointed look. “If necessary, they will restrain you, Derek. Take it easy, okay?”

“I can imagine the reception I’d get if I returned to the studio with a black eye and a cut lip,” he said wryly.

He massaged his eyes, then rubbed his face. “I’ve got to get some sleep. My thought processes are about ready to desert me.” He looked at Christopher. “We’re going to have to rearrange him before either one of us can get in there. It’s only a double. Going to be a tight fit for all three of us, but I guess we’ll manage.”

Connie watched silently as Derek repositioned Chris into the middle of the bed. She was aware of his evasion regarding her warning that he should be careful. He resented controls being placed on him and was apt to fight their captors for that reason just as readily as he would to protect her or the kids.

He stripped to his shorts, quickly and casually, and slipped into bed next to Chris. He placed his hands under his head and looked at Connie. She looked back at him.

“I have no objection to again sharing a bed with you,” he said mildly. “But would prefer it to be under different circumstances.”

“Uh-huh.” She crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of it to remove her shoes. Then, still wearing her tank top and shorts, she slipped in on the other side of Chris.

“That’s it?” Derek asked.

“That’s it. The two of you might get away with sleeping in your underwear, but I can’t.”

The lamp was on his side, and he reached to turn it off. She lay still, feeling awkward and uncomfortable while her ex-husband jostled the bed, searching for a comfortable position. Granted, they had a child between them, but she was still sharing a bed with him for the first time in two years.

The mattress finally became still. Then she turned over and searched for her own comfortable position. “And you thought they’d be separating us,” she said into the darkness.

* * *

Connie got up with Christopher, then gave Derek a good shake. Then she shook him again, using both hands, and kept it up until she saw the color of his eyes. She straightened and turned to leave. He mumbled something that she paid no attention to.

Christopher and Petey were too busy with their toy garage to even look her way. The twins were already up, but Moose had filled bottles for them and they were happy. She hadn’t packed cereal, not expecting to have to feed them breakfast on a picnic, so they’d have to take potluck along with everybody else. She checked the contents of the refrigerator and cabinets. Recalling Max’s words yesterday, she assumed she’d get to cook breakfast.

She was a woman. Therefore, she could cook. She resented the sexist assumption, which was, in this case, grossly inaccurate. But their captors weren’t abusive or violent. Perhaps two out of three wasn’t bad.

Although Moose appeared to be good with kids, he evidently wasn’t used to them. Derek had gotten up and was helping with the twins, but he hadn’t had a whole lot of practice with them either. While he was rescuing one of them from the toilet bowl, the other one took a header off the sofa.

Connie flew out of the kitchen. She gathered the baby up, checking for blood and bruises. Realizing the child was more scared than hurt, she rocked it while still on her feet, humming softly. After a short moment, she figured out that it was Andy.

In the corner, Petey lifted his head and sniffed. “She burned the toast again.”

“Yeah.” The frown was in Max’s voice as well as on his face. “Told her the first time she had to keep a careful eye on the toaster,” he muttered. He looked at the smoking pan on the stove. “Guess we can kiss the bacon goodbye, too.”

Connie put daggers into her stare. “Maybe you could watch the stupid toaster. And while you’re at it, maybe you could also take the stupid pan off the stupid burner.” Any adjective could be made scurrilous with enough inflection.

Max’s gaze snapped to her.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch the toaster, burn the bacon, and take care of two babies at the same time. Now shut up…and back off.” She hadn’t raised her voice, but it was backed up with every pound she possessed.

Christopher looked up from the corner, as surprised as Max.

Derek appeared at her side. He silently put Abbie on her feet next to Connie then stalked into the kitchen. Tightlipped, he removed the smoking pan from the stove, then took black toast from the toaster and threw it into the garbage. He searched through the bottom cabinets for another skillet. The look on his face said clearly that nobody should mess with him.

But Connie knew it wasn’t she with whom he was upset. If she didn’t calm down, he was going to double up his fists on her behalf.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Connie,” Moose said, staring up at her and Andy. He looked shamefaced and guilty. “I was right here next to him, and I…”

“I know,” she said, redirecting her attention to the big man on the sofa. “It’s not the first fall he’s taken, and it won’t be the last.” Because Moose appeared to be more hurt than Andy, she smiled and put her hand on the man’s shoulder.

Then quickly she grabbed Abbie’s arm before she could get away. The child still wore yesterday’s coveralls, and both sleeves were soaked to the shoulder. Wearily, Connie shook her head. “Her mother has three baby books, full of the stunts these kids have pulled. She’s saving it for their teens, and then she’s going to blackmail them. Playing in the toilet will fit nicely in Abbie’s book.”

She put Andy down—he’d gotten over his scare and was twisting impatiently in her arms—and picked up Abbie. “I’ve got to wash and change her. There’s only one outfit left, and I guess she gets it.”

She glanced at the kitchen. Derek had found another pan and was placing strips of bacon in it. She hadn’t burned all of it, just most of it. “You’ll get a better meal with him cooking, anyway.”

Moose’s eyes brightened. “He can cook?”