Mother Dearest (part 2)
by Izzy

Chapter 7

I woke in a startle, but I didn't know why. I wasn't dreaming, not that I knew of anyway, and it was quiet. Completely quiet.

Too quiet.

I left the couch, squinting even though the lighting in the room was dim. It was night. I felt like I had slept a week. It was a weird feeling. That and my foot was asleep because I had slept on it funny, one of the worst sensations I can think of.

I heard voices in the kitchen, but they stopped as soon as I limped into the bright room. I squinted at the image of Kevin and Howie sitting there, pausing to run a hand through my hair uncomfortably. It was sticking up.

"Hey Nicky."

I gave him a slight smile. "Hey, Howie ..."

"You okay?" He was looking at my foot.

I looked down too, for no reason. "It's asleep." I put weight on it and grimaced, then gave him a small smile.

"Hey, Nick." Kevin didn't care about my pain. "Question?"

"Question," I repeated.

"I called the police, right?"

"Right."

"And so we're talking and the guy tells me they're not tapping your phone anymore."

I swallowed. Surprise. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Well if that isn't incompetence-"

"He said you called it off."

Busted.

"Oh yeah, that's right. I did."

"Because ...?"

"Because it was the right thing to do," I said. "Something told me."

"Something told you."

"Yes."

"So now, instead of going through having your phones tapped, Brian and AJ are missing and you're getting told things."

I just sort of stared at him. I had no words.

"Kevin," Howie started.

"I'm tired," Kevin interrupted. He wasn't looking at me now. He didn't have patience for me. "I'm gonna go to bed."

He left then, no good nights. I stared at the empty doorway.

"Don't worry about him."

I turned to look at Howie.

"He's just worried." Excuses.

"I'm worried," I said.

"I know. We're all worried."

I sat down at the table across from him, pulling my elbows up in front of me. "This is my fault, isn't it." I felt my voice breaking, but I swallowed hard.

Howie started shaking his head. "Nick, no. It's no one's fault. It's-"

"My fault," I finished. "I left them last night. I got the threats. It's about me."

"That's a little selfish, don't you think?" He was joking.

"I'm being serious."

"We're all tired, Nicky. Things are going to work out. Maybe you just need some sleep."

Sleeping was all I had been doing. But I still felt tired. And I didn't feel like arguing.

I went back to the couch, defeated.

Sleep came.

I woke to the crushing feeling of a hand over my mouth. I instinctively pulled backward, but there the cushion beneath me pressed hard into my back. I jerked sideways instead. Nothing. I tried to scream, but couldn't.

I couldn't even scream. I could only blink stupidly at the dark figure above me, the one that was pulling me out off the couch as if I weighed nothing, and try to struggle with all of my might. It got me nowhere.

"Don't. If your friends wake up, I have to kill them."

The voice was so calm, so matter-of-fact. As if it were telling me it was going to rain that day. Too bad, but nothing unusual. I immediately froze in the person's grip at the words, a slight involuntary moan escaping past the hand clamped over my mouth. Maybe this was a dream.

But I knew it wasn't when I was dragged outside into the cool night air and I saw the car in the driveway. Sitting there, running. I saw fumes from the exhaust in the pale moonlight.

The hand was finally off of my face and I kept swallowing.

"H-how'd you get in the house."

The person didn't answer, they simply let me go and opened the passenger door of the car. Inviting enough as it was, I hesitated. I looked down at my bare feet and back up.

"Cooperate and you'll be fine. Your friends will be fine. The lady's not out to murder."

"Lady?" I turned and looked at the guy that had napped me. I could see his hard chiseled face in the lighting now. He had a small scar by his right eye.

"Get in the car."

We were still in front of Kevin's house. The best time to escape was before they took you anywhere, everyone knew that. My eyes were darting around frantically. Desperately searching for somewhere, someone, something.

"What are you gonna do, kid, huh? Just get in the car."

He didn't sound like he wanted to kill me, but he sounded rough enough that I didn't want to be going anywhere with him. But I got in the car. Because he was right. What was I going to do? There was no one around. Not even a bird.

I had screwed things up enough so far.

He slammed the door behind me and started around the front of the car for the driver's side. I fumbled for the handle on the door and pulled at it shakingly. The door opened.

"We can do this the hard way if you want." A hand was on my arm, an iron grip imprisoning me before I could even put a foot on the driveway. I don't know how he even got in the car that fast. But I was stuck.

"Pull the door shut."

I did what he said. I barely had the strength to shut the door.

I was in the car. I was in the nightmare.

We were pulling out of the driveway, away from Kevin and Howie, away from anything safe that I knew of. Away from Marco. I hoped Kevin would take care of him if I didn't come back.

I swallowed again, almost choking.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Can't you tell me?"

"No."

"I don't have shoes." I told the guy this randomly.

He glanced at me, cocking his head slightly. "Good, you can't run then."

I hadn't said that. I just stayed silent after that. Letting him take me wherever it was that he wanted to take me.

Fifteen minutes later, we were pulling into some unrecognizable place. I tried to get a look at anything that would give me a clue as to where we were. Anything.

There was nothing.

The car had stopped. But my heart hadn't. I felt it, each and every pounding beat. I felt like my chest was caving it in. Maybe I was having a heart attack. I deserved to die. I had gotten Brian and AJ in trouble.

"Are Brian and AJ here?"

"Get out." He was opening his door already.

"Are they?" Maybe I could free AJ and Brian.

He was coming around my side of the car. Pulling my door open. Wrenching me out. Pulling me toward the building.

But I could barely even walk. I wasn't even trying to give this guy a hard time. But my footsteps were awkward and dragging.

"Don't give a hard time when you're in there. You'll just get hurt. And in more shit."

More shit. I didn't need that. I don't even know where the first shit was coming from. Kill me now.

The lady.

I remember one time when I was surfing, and this crushing wave crashed down on top of me, sucking all the air out of my lungs and trapping me under it, not freeing me until I was sufficiently scraped by the sand below the surf and believing I would never again taste oxygen.

This is how I felt when I learned about the lady. And why I took things into my own hands afterward just like they wanted.

I was pushed into a metal folding chair and told not to move or they would cut off something that was important to me. I didn't move an inch.

An older woman came into the room and I felt my blood running cold. She looked like she wanted to devour me. Her hair was grayish, her cheeks were gaunt, pulled tightly against high cheekbones. Cruella d'Evil came to mind.

"Hi, Nick." Her voice was icy.

I glanced around the room but no one else was in there but the two of us. Even my captor was gone. My heart threatened to explode in my chest.

"I should kill you right now. Make you suffer like you've made me suffer." A pause. "Do you know what it's like to suffer?" Her black eyes narrowed at me, not expecting me to answer. But daring me to. "You've killed me inside."

I swallowed. "H-how."

"How?" She let out a hollow laugh and looked to her right, as if there were someone there. "He asks me how. How. You want to know how?" Suddenly she grabbed my face, her nails digging into me. "You took the one thing out of my life that was important to me. The only thing that mattered."

I just stared at her pasty face through terrified eyes.

"My son." She let go of me, pushing me back. "My only son."

Sean.

I couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. People like Sean didn't have mothers. Not mothers that cared anyway.

I felt myself sliding out of the chair, and quickly straightened up. I started to choke, coughing. I couldn't breathe.

She was looking to the right of herself again. Mumbling something. Then her eyes straightened.

"You're going to get him back to me," she told me. "That's what I want. You give him back to me and you get your friends back too."

"Where are they?" I demanded, glaring back at her.

"Somewhere," she hissed. "Where's Sean?"

Where he belonged. Where she belonged. I couldn't be awake. This couldn't be real.

"You do the things I want, and we'll both be happy," she growled.

"I c-can't get your son b-back."

"Then your friends die. And you die."

I couldn't do this.

"Do we have an agreement?"

But I was nodding. Something was making me nod. Because it was the only choice I had. There was nothing else I could do. I was stuck.

I was dead.

"We'll be in touch then. And this only involves the people I choose. Tell anyone else and your friends die. They're nothing to me."

Nothing.

My mind was so lost.

I was dropped at a bus depot and left there. As if I would take a bus back to wherever I had to be. But I had no money. I didn't sleep with a wallet on me.

But I paid attention to the roads this time. Like it would do me any good.

I was shoeless, moneyless, at a bus depot I wouldn't leave my worst enemy at and freezing my butt off. I sat there, shivering, for ten minutes, thinking I was better off dead.

Then I found a payphone and I shakily called Kevin collect. Begged him to come get me before he got a word out, reading off the street sign to him. I hung up when he said yes because I didn't want questions. He would come.

And he did.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

I grabbed Kevin's arm gratefully the second he approached. But I couldn't tell him.

"Nick, shit, where are your shoes?"

"Your house."

"What?"

"Kevin, I think I'm going crazy."

"I think so too."

"I know this is weird, but ..." God, this wasn't going to work. I was shaking.

"You look like you saw a ghost."

"I saw the devil."

"What?"

"The devil."

Kevin started to ignore my words. He did that a lot. "You okay?"

I stared at him.

"Physically?"

I nodded.

"You can let go of my arm now."

I think I had been cutting off his circulation. I quickly loosened my grip.

"You sure you're okay?" He tried again on the way to the car. "You want to tell me why you're out here?"

"I can't."

"You can't," he repeated, letting me into his car as he said the words. "And why is that."

"I'll be dead."

"Nick."

"I'm being serious!" I was trying to be as honest as I could.

Maybe I could tell him. But then I would screw everything up even more. I always screwed everything up. Every problem stemmed back to me. The truth to that hit me hard.

"Nick."

"Just drive."

"Talk then."

"Look, I'm sorry I cause all our problems." I said it point blank, not sarcastically. Kevin turned to look at me a second.

"What? You don't, Nick."

He had no idea. I turned my head toward the window.

"What problems?"

"All our problems," I muttered. "I can't talk about it."

"Because you'll die?"

"Yes."

Kevin's expression was one of annoyance then. He probably thought I was just overreacting. Overreacting when his own cousin and AJ were missing. It wasn't possible to overreact.

But I would solve things this time. All I had to do was everything that they told me and no one would get hurt.

-

Chapter 8

I went home as soon as I got Marco and my car from Kevin's place. There wasn't any reason for me to stick around there, seeing as I couldn't tell him anything and even if I did, he probably wouldn't believe me.

The fact that I was completely screwed and most likely dead hit me in the car. The nightmare that I was repeatedly told was over forever was now back. I had a reason to be so paranoid obviously. Only this time it didn't just involve my life.

I looked down at my hands. They were gripping the steering wheel tightly. My knuckles were white. Marco's nose was out the window, sniffing at the air.

I heard honking behind me and realized I was going about twenty. There were a line of cars on my bumper. I quickly stepped on the gas.

Home.

Home was cold to me. There were two messages on my answering machine, and as I pressed the button to play them I pulled a chair toward me and sat down. I felt like an old man.

One of them was from my mother. I didn't want to listen to it, but I did. I wasn't having a good time with mothers lately. Not my own, not Sean's.

She wanted me to call her back. I wanted her to stop calling.

The second one was from management. Stuff coming up. I listened to it with half an ear, trying to think about what I was going to do now, not later.

I felt the anxiety starting. Being alone did it. I rubbed my thumb and forefinger together absently.

The messages were done. I realized that several minutes later when I found myself still sitting there in silence. I was staring, but I wasn't seeing anything in front of me.

I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like butterflies were swimming down my throat into my stomach. A tightening of my chest made me take a breath.

I had to get up.

So I stood, and I tried to think standing up. It didn't help my brain any more than sitting down had. Not that I really thought it would.

I started to move from the room when I heard the phone ring shrilly. I looked back at it, looking at it as though it were an enemy. It was an enemy. I let the answering machine get it.

Until I heard a whispered voice saying my name, and I quickly snatched up the phone.

"Hello? Brian?" I swallowed, my hands shaking.

"Nick, man." His voice was really low, hard to hear at all. I strained to listen. "Listen, you have to get help."

"Are you okay? Is AJ okay? Did she do anything to you? Did you-"

"Nick, I can't talk long. I have my cell phone, but the ringer's off." His voice sounded hoarse in the whisper. "We're fine now, but you have to-"

"I'm gonna get you outta there," I interrupted. "I think I know where you are." I tried to backtrack the way from the bus depot in my head. I thought I could do it. "I'm gonna pretend I'm doing what she wants, but I'm gonna get you outta there."

I heard dial tone.

Shit.

I tried to rationalize. It wasn't one of my greatest attributes. But I knew that I couldn't just rush in there unprepared. I had to have a plan before I got all of us killed.

I rubbed my chin, shutting my eyes for a second. I never thought the threat of death would come again so soon. I mean, I thought it would in a paranoid way, but I never really thought it would. Deep down inside.

I could break into the house. Snoop around and find them. Get them out. I could figure out the address of the house and have a cell phone ready to call 911 when all hell broke loose.

And I would not tell Kevin a thing.

Or Howie. Howie would tell Kevin.

As long as I pretended to the lady that I was doing what she wanted, it would be fine. They would be safe.

Right.

I realized I was gnawing at the nail and quickly dropped my hand down.

It sounded so simple, but I knew it wasn't going to be. First of all, I didn't know how I was going to pretend to the lady that I was doing what she wanted. I didn't know the first thing about how I would even get her son back to her if I wanted to. It wasn't even like I was the only one that had put him where he was. In fact, technically I wasn't the one who put him where he was.

I looked down at Marco. "What's the plan, Marky Mark?"

His tail thumped heavily on the floor, his head tilting to the side.

"No ideas? That's what I thought, you lazy bum." I sighed, reaching out for the dog absently. "Do you want to go scope out an area with me?"

The dog didn't understand what I was saying. He just sat there, slobbering.

I wanted to see if I could find my way back to the place. Then I could take it to the next step. Figuring out how to get them out of there. If they were even in there.

I relayed Brian's voice in my head again. He had sounded scared. He said they were fine. Then. Then they were fine, what about now? What about the fact that his voice had turned into dial tone without any goodbye in between.

I wiped my eyes hastily because the frustration was making me want to cry, but I wasn't going to. Instead, I opened a drawer in my kitchen and slowly drew out a sharp knife. I stared at it. It was the only sort of weapon that I had. I quickly wrapped the blade in a small thick towel. I don't know what made me take it.

It was going to work out.

I felt like I was always in the car. But I felt fairly safe in the car. I put the towel in the glove compartment and shut it quickly. I didn't really need it anyway. But it was there.

I drove without really telling myself where to go. I let my mind guide me by memory. I got back to the bus depot and parked for a minute. I had to breathe. And Marco had to pee.

And I had to calm myself.

I wasn't doing anything, I was just driving by. Checking it out. Putting myself up close and personal with a nightmare.

It shouldn't have been hard. But it was.

And I couldn't do it. Not yet. I wasn't ready. I needed to plan more.

So as soon as Marco was back in the car, I convinced myself I knew where to go, and without going there at all I headed back to my house.

-

Chapter 9

"We have to all come in for questioning."

"Questioning?"

"Yeah, you know, where they ask you questions." Howie's explanation couldn't have been any more elementary. I fought from retorting back something sarcastic, only because I was caught off-guard.

"Why?"

"It's part of the investigation."

"I know, but I thought that we told them everything we said we knew."

"So what's the big deal of just repeating it? You know cops."

"Because ..."

Because nothing. There wasn't any reason I could give. My only reason for not wanting to go in was that I had gotten another call from the mother of all mothers herself, and she wanted me to meet someone somewhere at a time that was exactly forty minutes from now. And if I knew police, this was going to take way more than forty minutes.

"Do you have someplace to be?"

I hesitated at Kevin's question. Yes. Yes, I did. But I shook my head no.

"Relax, Nicky," he said.

"I'm completely relaxed. Can we take separate cars?"

"Why?"

"Because ..."

"Why cause more pollution?"

The thing was, I knew Kevin was only half kidding me with that statement. And I couldn't argue him on it. I couldn't think of anything to say.

And maybe we could be out of there in time.

Forty minutes later, I felt like I was dying. My insides were scrambling like eggs on a hot skillet. I needed to get out of there, or I would be in deep.

I couldn't quite understand why after filling out forms, we still had to do the whole questioning thing. It was a little repetitive. It didn't help that I was completely nervous that I wasn't going to get out of there on time. In that case, Brian and AJ would be completely screwed.

"Nick, man, what?"

I jerked my head up quickly at Kevin's voice. It was just the three of us in the room. The investigator we had been talking to was not there.

Had I said something? "What?"

"You alright?"

"Uh huh, yeah ... fine." I nodded quickly, eyes going straight to the clock. I had to be there about ... now. Shit. I looked at them. They looked terrible too. This whole thing wasn't doing great things for any of us.

"You look ... frantic."

Perfect observation, Kevin. Perfect. Bingo. Right on target.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom quick, is that okay?" I started to get up out of my stiff chair before either of them answered.

I had the car keys. I had made sure I had driven to the station so that they would be in my possession. Just in case. I walked past the bathroom without a glance at it, heading straight for the exit.

Maybe I could be back before anyone noticed.

-

"You're late," a man's voice growled.

I turned quickly in surprise, not expecting the masculine voice. It was the same guy from the other day. I swallowed hard, forcing my feet to stay planted.

"Come this way."

"I was c-caught up."

"Well don't get caught up," he said simply. "I said come this way."

I followed him cautiously. He was taking me behind the building. His car was parked there. I stopped walking.

"Come on." He grabbed my arm and started forcing me. "What's your problem?"

Problem? My problem? He did not ask me that.

"I'm not taking you anywhere, if that's what you're worried about."

I think that was what I was worried about, part of it at least, because I felt myself involuntarily relax. Just slightly.

"Get in the car."

I didn't want to get in the car.

"Get in the car." This time I saw a flash of metal and I really did want to get in the car.

Once we were in, I found myself with a brown paper bag on my lap. You know the kind that you put lunches in. I looked down at it frowning.

"Your job is to bring that to Main and 13th. There will be someone waiting for you. You will get a sealed envelope in return."

I stared at him. What? I didn't want to touch the bag. I wanted it off my lap. "What is this, drugs?"

He didn't answer.

I reached for it, annoyed.

"Don't open the bag," he barked.

I jumped slightly. I sat quiet a minute, trying to regain my composure. I chose my words carefully. "I'm not carrying drugs."

"When you bring the envelope back here, it better be sealed."

"I'm not carrying drugs."

"You, Mr. Carter, are carrying this bag. To Main and 13th. You will get an envelope. You will bring it here."

"I'm not-"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted. "I don't seem to be understanding you. You do want your friends to be okay, don't you?"

"What is this, a test? What?" I was frantic again, and trying hard not to show it.

"Just do it. You have thirty minutes to be there and back."

"I don't understand what this has to do anything."

"That's not the point."

I wanted to move. But I didn't. "What's the point?"

"Twenty-eight minutes."

Brian. AJ. "How long is this going to go on?"

"As long as it needs to."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached for the door handle.

"Don't look in the bag."

"Okay."

"Twenty-five minutes."

-

I felt the anticipation scraping up and down my insides as I stepped out of my car and walked down the block to the designated intersection. There wasn't any parking closer.

I felt like an idiot walking down that street with the brown paper bag in hand, looking everywhere around me because I was completely paranoid. If a puppy had came up to me, I would probably have run from it.

The next chain of events happened very quickly.

It was a young girl who came up to me, probably around my age. She very discreetly slipped a white envelope into my pocket, and so I gave her the bag. Nothing else. No words.

I was turning to go back down the street to my car when suddenly I was slammed up against the brick side of a building. I felt my forearm being scraped against the surface as I heard the gruff word.

"Police."

My legs went out from under me, but I was pressed so hard against the wall that it didn't make a difference.

"What was that?" the voice demanded.

I couldn't see the guy, but I felt my hands being yanked behind me and cold metal clamping tightly around my wrists.

"What the hell," I started, trying to pull around.

"What's in your pocket."

"Nothing?"

"Don't lie." I was yanked around and I saw a car sitting on the side of the street in front of me, engine running. I was being forced toward it. I was getting sick of this whole 'get in the car' deal, police or not.

"I didn't do a-anything."

I felt like everyone in the world was staring at me.

"Get in the car."

I didn't argue. I hoped they would kill me. Kill me, and put me out of my misery. Arrest me, throw me in jail forever.

-

Chapter 10

"Now. Just tell me. What was in the bag?"

"I don't know."

The brute who had grabbed me out on the street now looked at me sedately. I still didn't have his name. He had flashed me a badge, sat me down in some metal folding chair, and started questioning me while drinking his hot coffee.

I sat there shivering, my hands still cuffed but in front of me, and failed to answer any his questions because I didn't have any answers.

I had seen no one else but him. I hadn't gone through any sort of booking process, and I had been brought in through the back of the building. No details.

The white room we sat in was void of all decorations. I started to wonder where it was I really was.

"What's this then?" The skinny bald guy pressed a finger against the white envelope that stared up at me from the table between us.

I glared at it and wished it would just burn away.

"What's this that you were carrying?"

"You got me there, sir. No clue."

"Then who are you working for?"

"You got me there, too."

The guy looked annoyed then, and he leaned across the table on top of the envelope, his face an inch away from mine. His breath smelled like coffee.

"Look, son." His words were as sharp as a dagger. "You've got nothing to lose. If you tell us, that is. Just tell us who it is you work for."

"I don't know," I said, feeling like I had said the same words a thousand times in the last twenty minutes. A million times.

"You could go to jail--"

"Great," I interrupted, holding out my cuffed hands. "Take me. Please. Lock me up."

He stared at me.

"Really. It would solve a lot of my problems."

No one could get at me in jail. Hell, the guys might even feel sorry for me.

The guy stared at me a moment longer and then did the last thing I expected him to. He unlocked the cuffs.

"Am I going to jail?"

He slid the envelope toward me. "You can go," he said, pointing to the door.

"What?" I must have misunderstood him.

But no. He left the room, the door ajar behind him. I rubbed my wrists together, trying to get the circulation back into them, and wondered where I had gone wrong in my life.

I was starting to get pissed off. I wasn't scared. I was mad. They were playing games with me.

I needed my car. I needed my car, and I need an excuse. We were in the middle of an investigation, and here I was, in the middle of a game. Just great.

Score one more for me.

I grabbed the envelope and kicked the table over before I left the room. Just for kicks. A door was open down the long hallway, leading straight to outside. How easy.

Outside, I found myself in an alley with nothing but garbage cans and a stray cat. I got to the street and saw the intersection. Main and 13th.

They had driven me around, and come back right here.

God.

I walked down the block to my car, ripping the envelope open as I went. A small piece of paper slide out.

'You passed,' it said.

Well shit.

I wished I hadn't.

-

If looks could kill, I would have been six feet under with a pine box for company.

Howie just shook his head when he saw me. That was enough. Even he looked displeased. Displeased was putting it lightly.

"We're not going to talk about this now." Kevin's words were like ice. "We can't kill you at a police station."

I said nothing. I had nothing to say. I was still trying to think of someplace I could have been besides where I was. No excuses were coming to mind. None. Zip.

I just rubbed my head and tried to look stupid. Playing that part was easy.

In the car, it was worse. I tried to concentrate on driving, but the silence was killing me. It was eating away at me.

I needed an excuse. Or the truth. I could try the truth.

"You just ran through a stop sign."

Howie's words brought me back from my thoughts.

"Look, you guys--"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Nick?"

"Look, Kevin--"

"Do you know what the cops were thinking when you ran out on the investigation?"

"I didn't run 'out'."

"What do you call it," he demanded. "God!" He hit the glove compartment in frustration and I didn't even think until after it popped open and the wrapped up towel fell out that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. "Nick."

"Yeah." I glanced over just in time to see the glint of the knife sitting on the towel.

Oh shit.

"What the hell is this?"

That was a question I could answer. "It's a knife."

"I can see that," he said sharply. "What's it doing in here?"

"Uh. It's just hanging out." I almost ran through another stop sign.

"Pull over."

"What?"

"Pull. Over."

"Look, Kevin, it's just a knife."

"Pull the goddamn car over before I do it for you."

I parked on the shoulder of the road and then opened my door. Kevin caught my arm in a death-grip.

"Where are you going?"

"I want someone else to drive. Ow, Kevin..." I glared back at him for a second, but I quickly gave up on that when his expression didn't change. He loosened his grip but he didn't let go.

"Why's there a knife in your glove compartment, Nick?" Howie asked slowly from the backseat.

"I put it there."

Kevin cursed and the grip on my arm became painful again.

"Why the hell do you think it's there?" I exclaimed, growing angry. I wrenched my arm away from him and turned my face away. "You don't know shit! You just think I'm nuts! We'll fuck you, I've been doing this on my own this far and you don't know a thing! I don't need your shit!"

Silence.

It felt so quiet after my shouting.

"What?" Kevin had let go of my arm.

"What what?"

"What are you talking about?"

I glared at him. He didn't glare back.

"Nick," Howie started. "C'mon..."

I started out of the car.

Kevin spoke. "Nick."

I stopped.

"Come on now. We don't know what?"

"Anything."

"Nick."

I sat back into the seat, letting out a breath. "It's Sean."

"What?" Howie interrupted, a surprised tone in his voice.

"Well, not him exactly. His mother. She has AJ and Brian. She wants Sean out of jail in return for them. You don't know shit." I glanced at the knife still in Kevin's possession. "You gonna use that?"

"Nick." His voice was chiding. "What... How long have you known this?"

I rolled my eyes. "What the hell does that matter, Kevin."

"How do you know?" Howie interjected. "You never said anything--"

"You guys never listen anyway," I muttered. "How do I know? I met her. Yeah," I said at their surprised looks. "Remember when you picked me up at the bus station, Kevin?"

"Wait a second," he cut in, giving me a look.

"They took me in the middle of the night and then dropped me there."

"You wouldn't tell me where you'd been."

"I couldn't."

"And now?" Kevin said dryly.

"Now..." I felt it coming.  My voice broke and I felt the tears start. I couldn't take it anymore. "Now... I... don't know what to do." I turned my head away. "And Brian called--" I cut off when Kevin grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

His voice was sharp. "What?"

I couldn't answer. I twisted my face away from him.

"Shh. What?" he repeated, more gently this time.

"He s-said to get help..." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "And I'm trying..." I was choking on my words. They were one big lump in my throat. "I'm trying..."

"We have to tell the police, Nick--"

"No!" My voice broke again. "We can't..."

"C'mon, buddy..."

"I kn-know where the house is, I was gonna get them out," I whispered. "I just--"

"Don't be stupid. We're not gonna lose you too, understand?"

The tears started again. I felt Howie's hand on my shoulder from the backseat.

"S-see that's where I was.. during the questioning. I had to meet them..."

"I can't believe you." Kevin's voice was sharp again. "You're lucky they didn't kill you."

I said nothing. I stared at the blurry wheel. I had told them. I didn't feel better.

"I'll drive," Kevin said. He swatted at my leg, as if to tell me to move.

-

Right back where we started.

I had been in a police station all day and it seemed as though that still was not enough. We had to go back. Of course.

I was tired. I was not in a good mood. I felt sick. My tears had turned into glares.

I didn't like the look the investigator gave me when he learned that no, we hadn't told him everything. I hadn't told him everything. Less than pleased was he. Less than pleased was I. So I just scowled at everybody.

"Your face is going to freeze like that."

No, it's not, Howie.

I said nothing.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you that?"

I scowled deeper at him.

We were in a little conference room this time. The investigator had left to do whatever it was he said he was going to do, and we were waiting. Some more patiently than others.

"Speaking of mothers," Kevin said. He had had his head lowered into his hands until this point. The whole thing was getting to him too. He looked at me. "Nick. Your mom called me."

I swiveled in my chair to face him. "What?"

He shrugged, and I swear he looked amused. "Apparently she hasn't heard from you in awhile."

"She hasn't," I muttered.

"She said you're not returning her phone calls."

"I'm not."

"Why not, pal?"

"Because."

"Because...?"

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in the chair.

"You should pay her a visit."

"Last time I paid her a visit, she slapped me. Thanks, but no thanks."

Kevin just raised his eyebrows. For once, he said nothing.

Howie spoke up after a pause. "What are you arguing with each other about?"

I shrugged. "I don't even remember."

"That's nice." Kevin punched me gently in the arm.

"I don't know why she called you anyway," I muttered. God.

There was a quick knock on the door and the investigator came back in. He had a slightly confused look on his face and was shuffling some paperwork. That was quickly dropped on the desk as he turned to look at us.

"Well. We did some background checking and found something that might interest you. Sean's mother died back in 1983."

I stared at him.

1983.

What the hell?

-

Chapter 11

I felt frozen.

All eyes on me.

The investigator propped himself on the edge of the desk and then looked straight at me, rubbing his chin sedately. "So this... woman you've described to us," he said slowly, "that's not his mother."

No shit, Sherlock.

Goddamn. Who was it?

And why was she pretending to be someone else?

I felt like everyone was expecting me to come up with something.

"Look," I started. "I didn't make this up."

The investigator just nodded, reaching behind himself for the paperwork again. I could tell he didn't like me.

I glanced at the guys.

"We know, Nick," Howie said.

I looked at Kevin. He said nothing. He probably still thought I was crazy.

Maybe I was crazy. Maybe this whole thing was going to end with me in a mental institution, taking little white pills and sitting in a rubber-walled room, staring a tiny, static-filled television set. 

A clearing of the throat came from the officer.

"Are there any... other pieces of information that you would like to share with us at this point in time?"

Again, all eyes on me. I hid my glare as best I could and just shook my head.

"Can any of you think of anyone else... or anything else suspicious?"

I shook my head, expecting everyone else to do the same, but Kevin started up.

"Actually, Nick, you remember you said you thought you knew where the house could have been...?"

No.

I started to shake my head.

Kevin squeezed my knee warningly under the table. "Think about it, buddy, you'll remember." The gentle voice proposed the exact opposite idea of his hand. He wasn't asking me to tell, he was telling me to.

But if I did that... I didn't even want to think about what they would do to Brian and AJ.

"I..."

The investigator looked at me expectantly.

Howie looked at me expectantly.

Kevin squeezed harder.

You could slice the tension in the room with a knife.

"I can't remember," I said finally. "But when I do--"

"You'll tell us," the officer finished sarcastically. "Right." He stood back on his feet, the expression on his face conveying that he simply thought we were wasting his time. "That's it then. We're going to continue doing everything we can do with this little amount of information."

Yeah, stick the knife a little deeper in me. Bastard.

I flicked him the bird as his back went through the door, and promptly got slapped upside the head.

I glared at Kevin.

"Don't even, Nick," he said.

"What. He's a jerk."

"You're being the jerk. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Shut up, Kevin."

"No," he snapped. "What's your problem? You know where that house is. You're making this hell for us, and you're making it even worse for Brian and AJ by not saying anything. Try thinking about reality for once, okay, Nick? This isn't a game!"

I couldn't even say anything to that.

I stared down at the table's surface, examining the tiny scratches in it as if I was really interested in them.

"Look, man." Now Howie was giving it a go. He sounded desperate. "I know they told you that telling the police was a bad idea, but that's just a scare tactic. You have to give the police all this information... they can help. They can figure this out and we can get AJ and Brian back safely. What good is it doing you?"

It would do me good if I had a plan. But I didn't. My head spun, and I raked my hands through my hair. The story had changed and now I was just confused. Confused and scared and tired. And I didn't know what to do.

"I don't know," I said weakly.

"You don't know," Kevin repeated sarcastically. I was getting annoyed with his 'get angry at Nick' approach to dealing with the situation. Why couldn't he just act worried? He had to morph his worry into anger. "Maybe we should call up this mystery lady and ask if we could trade you in and get the boys back. It's you they want anyway, right? Why should the rest of us suffer?"

I stared at him, hurt. I tried to tell myself that his words shouldn't surprise me, but they did. They really did.

"Kevin," Howie started. Then he glanced at me, but I didn't look at him. He was stuck in the middle, as usual.

Kevin pushed his chair back loudly. "Let's just go home. You guys can come to my place." He gave me a pointed look. "It's better if we stay in each other's sight, right, Nick?"

I said nothing.

-

At Kevin's place, I ignored everyone. As soon as I was in the house, I locked myself in one of the guestrooms, craving solitude. I wanted to think. I needed to think. Time was passing, and every minute things could be getting a hell of a lot worse.

Brian's whispered voice on the phone kept haunting me.

Get help.

We're fine now.

I swallowed.

And what about now? I sank to the floor next to the bed, rubbing my face with my hands. I tried to retrace everything in my head from the beginning, but I just got frustrated.

"Damn," I muttered. Tears pricked my eyes.

I should have never have been born.

If it wasn't Sean's mother, then who was it? Obviously the motive was the same... they still wanted to get Sean out of jail. I shivered. The thought of that actually made me nauseous.

I staggered to my feet and made it to the connected bathroom just in time to lose whatever contents there were in my stomach. I gagged for a minute, shutting my eyes tightly.

He wasn't going to get out. He wasn't going to get out.

I tried to reassure myself.

None of us were going to die.

Things would always work out in the end. They had to, right? I tiredly pulled myself up from my knees and went to the sink, trying not to look at the mirror as I splashed my face with cool water and rinsed my mouth out.

Maybe I was dreaming.

This could all be a dream.

I glanced around the bathroom quickly, I don't know why. Maybe I wanted to find something that would tell me if I was awake or dreaming, I don't know. In any case, I didn't find anything.

I stared back at the toilet.

Marco.

I had to let Marco out and feed him.

That, and I had to get out of here. Maybe I should go to the house by myself. It was me they wanted anyway, wasn't that what Kevin had said? And he was right. Why should the rest of them have to suffer when it was all my fault.

I was too tired to keep up with all of it. It had to end.  I decided that would be the plan. I splashed some more water on my face and made up my mind.

I would go to the house.

I wasn't really surprised when a voice caught me in front of the front door, but it still made me jump.

Kevin.

Who else.

"Where are you going, Nick?"

"Home," I said, glancing at him. He sounded... not mad. I didn't know whether to trust it or not. "I have to feed the dog and stuff."

"You coming back?"

I shrugged, my hand on the doorknob.

"Come back, okay," he said gently.

I shrugged again.

"We'll all feel better if you come back."

"Will we?"

"Look..." He caught my arm. "Nick. I'm sorry about what I said before, back at the station..."

"It's okay." But I said it automatically, because that's what I was used to saying whenever anyone apologized to me, whether it was okay or not.

"No. It's not. I'm sorry. It's just..." He raked his fingers through his dark hair, looking at me. "You okay? You look... sick."

I felt like I was going to be sick again, but I just shook my head.

"I just don't know how to deal with this," he continued. "And I know I'm taking it out on you. I'm just worried..."

I just kept shaking my head. I still felt nauseous.

Kevin caught my arm. "You sure you're okay?"

"Uh huh." I pushed the door open the rest of the way. "I'll come back..."

He nodded then, letting me go when I pulled away.

I would come back.

Eventually.

Hopefully.

-