30. Stella
THIRTY
stella
We spent the next two hours around the weathered kitchen table poring over ways to get to Charlie.
The tension was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife as everyone held their breath, hoping for news.
Sheriff Cortez hadn’t given us any further updates except a text or two confirming that Charlie was alive and well inside the warehouse.
We had figured out that the warehouse was a dilapidated paper mill right outside the city limits.
That location offered ideal seclusion while remaining near a major city.
Knowing what I did about this Silas guy, they still needed to move their product, even if they were set on playing games, and being close to a big city like Atlanta provided them the access to an entire network of underground dealers.
We assumed they were using the warehouse to move larger amounts of heroin.
Though we had no clue how many total people were inside, we knew there was at least one male and one female.
I couldn’t imagine two people handling an operation this large, but drug dealers were a crazy bunch of fuckers, defying logical explanation .
I hadn’t been blind to the backwoods dealings that Dean had been involved in. I kept my mouth shut, claiming that I loved him and he was just doing what he needed to support us. He had come home blitzed out of his mind enough that I knew the type of crazy we were dealing with.
Even though I had first-hand knowledge of how dangerous these people were, I was about to kick the proverbial hornet’s nest.
Terrified was an understatement, and I just hoped that no matter what happened, Max would understand and forgive me after this was all over.
One by one, everyone made moves to leave. There wasn’t any use in everyone standing vigil around the big house while we waited for news. Everyone could go back to their comfy beds and rest knowing that the Sheriff had eyes on Charlie.
I had even managed to convince Max that we should get some rest, knowing that as soon as we had word that they had infiltrated the warehouse and gotten Charlie out, we wouldn’t be sleeping.
I had to get him to sleep to put my plan in motion, as it was the only logical way to keep him from stopping me.
I had been working out details in my mind all afternoon, and knew that if Max caught wind of what I’d planned, he’d insist on doing it himself.
I didn’t want him in the middle of all of this. It was my battle to fight.
We stood side by side in the bathroom brushing our teeth, the silence oppressive as my heart beat wildly in my chest. I hoped he wouldn’t notice my shaking hands as I reached forward and turned on the water to wash my toothpaste down the drain.
As Max leaned over to rinse his mouth, his hand resting on the small of my back—a gesture that usually comforted me— it instead filled me with a profound and unsettling sense of dread.
Would he hate me after this was all over?
We padded our way to the bed; him pulling back the covers on his side and me on mine. As soon as we both laid our heads down, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close.
I snuggled into his embrace, relishing in the warmth of his chest against my back. The feeling of being in his arms was a comfort I couldn’t explain. It felt like coming home. I sunk into his warm body, not knowing if this would be the last chance we would have to be together.
I loved him completely and without reservation; there was no question in my mind about the depth and of my affection for this man. He had pulled me from the depths of darkness, showing me what it was like to be loved wholly and without reservation.
Max was one of the good ones.
“Goodnight, Trouble.” he yawned, tightening his arm around my waist and tucking his face into the space where my shoulder met the slope of my neck. He pressed a tender kiss right at the juncture, and I sighed in contentedness.
“Goodnight, Cowboy.” I whispered back, barely managing to choke back the sobs that threatened to escape my lips.
I wasn’t watching the clock, but it didn’t take long before his breathing evened out and I could feel his embrace loosen. I waited an extra ten minutes or so before attempting to remove myself from his grasp.
I inched his arm from around my waist, taking extra care not to wake him. Max was a sound sleeper and today had been draining, but I didn’t want to chance having to explain where I was heading, or lie to him .
Once I was confident that I could move without waking him up, I padded to the closet.
I had shoved a few things in a small duffel bag at the back of the walk-in closet earlier, under the guise of having to use the bathroom.
I’d packed a change of clothes for myself, my cell phone, clothes for Charlie, and my wallet.
Tiptoeing back to the bedroom, I attempted to open the bedside table drawer without making a sound. When it slid open silently, I nearly fell to my knees in relief. So far, luck had been on my side and I wasn’t about to test its limits.
Reaching in, I wrapped my hand around the smooth barrel of Max’s handgun stored at the back.
The first night we had slept in the same room, I had almost peed my pants when he set it in the drawer on his side, fully loaded with the safety off. He had promised that it was okay resting in the drawer and he would put it back in the gun safe in the morning.
He had explained that a gun in the gun safe did nothing in the way of protection, should someone come into the house in the middle of the night. Keeping the gun in the bedside table drawer, loaded and unlocked, gave us a better chance of defense.
I still wasn’t comfortable handling a loaded firearm without Max’s help, but I didn’t want to go into this without some way to protect myself.
I flipped the safety back on as I tucked the gun into a zipper pouch on the outside of my duffle bag so that it was accessible.
Taking one last look around the room, my gaze settled on Max’s sleeping form. The furrow that had been between his brows over the last twenty-four hours had softened. He looked so serene and at peace. His chest rose and fell in an even cadence, and his lush lips parted with each exhale.
I set the note I’d scribbled earlier on my bedside table and draped the necklace he’d given me yesterday over it, not wanting anything to happen to it in the shuffle. I sent up a silent prayer to whatever being made universal decisions that he would forgive me after all of this if I made it out.
I left our bedroom, walking as quietly as I could and shut the door with a soft snick. I waited with bated breath to make sure it hadn’t woken him before I tip-toed to the front door and repeated the motions.
Once outside, I realized how serene the ranch was at night.
A symphony of crickets chirped, their tiny voices blending into a soothing nighttime soundtrack.
Though still humid, the air lacked the oppressive weight of the day’s heat; a gentle breeze whispered through the trees, calling out a soft whisper of warning.
Across the field, I could see the fireflies dancing through the air, beckoning all lost souls to send their wishes to the moon. As I stepped off the porch, one landed on my sleep shorts. I stopped and tenderly scooped it into my palm, taking great care to cup it softly as I raised it to my eyes.
The tiny bug, a miniature jewel of orange and black, seemed to peer back at me as it stood in silent wait for my plea, its antennae twitching slightly. I cupped my other hand over it and closed my eyes.
“I wish that for once in my life, everything goes right. I wish that Charlie and I make it out safely, that Max doesn’t hate me, and we can move on with our lives without fear creeping over our shoulders.”
My whispered desire coasted past my lips as I opened my palm and allowed the firefly to fly into the darkness. Its tiny light was a beacon of hope as it soared high into the sky.
I took one last look at the big house, memorizing the gentle sway of Ma’s porch swing. I felt a gentle breeze coast across my skin, almost as if a whisper of acknowledgment from her spirit, a mother’s knowing approval.
I thought about the many times Max and I had sat just watching Charlie play in the grass from the comfort of the creaky steps. Visions of a future where we sat as a family, watching our future kids make memories from the same rickety porch, clouded my thoughts.
I shook the thoughts from my head, not allowing myself to dwell on the could be’s, as I walked to my car, started the engine, and pulled away from the only family I’d allowed myself to know and love unconditionally.
Surprisingly, the drive to Atlanta was uneventful; the highway was smooth, and the only sound was the gentle hum of the tires on the asphalt.
The roads were deserted. I wasn’t surprised that I’d only passed a handful of cars as I drove out of town, only sensing civilization when I hit the main highway.
It only took about an hour and a half to get to the location of the warehouse. Sheriff Cortez had let slip that there was a change of look-out detail around this time, and I hoped that would provide the momentary distraction I needed to get myself inside.
I cut the lights as I pulled up near the building, noticing two patrol cars parked out back.
The officers were standing relaxed against their vehicles, chatting about who knows what, not paying attention to their surroundings.
I rolled my eyes and made a mental note to mention it to Emmanuel, should I make it out of here.
Scratch that - when I made it out of here. Not making it out wasn’t an option.
I parked the car in a small clearing between the trees, about a hundred yards from the parking lot of the warehouse.
I left behind the duffel, but made sure to grab the hand gun and tuck it in the waistband of my shorts.
Not comfortable enough in my abilities to not shoot myself in the crotch, I left the safety on.
I didn’t need to shit to go sideways before I even made it inside the building.
I crept down the road, taking care to stay in the shadows.
I was sure that the officers couldn’t see me from this far away, but I didn’t need to alert them to my presence.
Somehow getting close enough without being seen, I started looking for an entrance.
I noticed a small loading dock off to the side and what looked like a door propped ajar with a brick.
It was out of view of where the officers chatted away.
Upon further inspection, I was right. The door was open. Unease filtered through my veins as everything fell into place. This was all happening so perfectly that I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which something wouldn’t go wrong.
I crept to the metal door and slowly edged it open. It strained on its hinges, letting out a loud creak into the dark abyss inside. I paused, waiting for shouting to come, but when it didn’t, I let loose a sign of relief.
Creeping into the room, I attempted to feel my way through the darkness.
I kept my hands in front of me to hopefully catch myself before I slammed into something.
Tiptoeing forward, I could see light coming from the hallway ahead and made my way towards it.
I heard distant whispers, but wasn’t able to make out what they were saying.
Momentarily distracted by the noise ahead, my foot caught on the rough metal of a table leg and I went careening forward, slamming my palms down on its flat surface. I felt the sharp sting on my leg, and I winced as I realized I’d caught the edge and cut open my shin.
“Fuck.” I whispered through gritted teeth, fighting through the pain. I’d managed to cut myself pretty good and would probably need a couple of stitches.
The light at the end of the hallway got brighter as someone opened the door. A hulking man the size of an oak tree, took up the majority of the door frame, blocking out the light. I couldn’t quite tell, but it looked like he had a gun in his hand and his gaze was trained directly in my direction.
Unsure if he could see me through the oppressive darkness, I held my breath in an attempt to make myself seem small.
“Who’s there?” he boomed, raising the weapon and pointing it in my general direction.
I did my best to breathe evenly and quietly, but as he stepped into the room, a feeling of dread washed over me. He stomped towards me, a flashlight held in his meaty fingers. Once he was close enough that the rays of light crested my body, a chill coasted down my spine.
His grin was feral as his lips spread, showcasing a yellowing smile. He cocked his head to the side as he grinned, his greasy black hair falling over one eye.
“Well, hello there, pretty little bitch.”