Ace of Hearts, page 13
I waited. And I waited.
Maybe she’s hyperventilating. Maybe she’s having a panic or anxiety attack. Maybe things came crashing down on her and she can’t function. The longer I sat, the more worried I got. Her keys were in her bag; her cell was on the table. There was no way she would walk home in the cold on New Year’s Eve, and no way she would leave without telling me. Not after the scare when I had broken into her painting room. She had promised.
I snatched her phone, all at once surprised and exasperated that she was still using her high school student ID as a PIN, and pulled up a message to Jasmine.
7:36 PM
This is Felix and maybe an emergency. Are you still on campus? Have you seen Hesper?
Surely if anyone knew where she might have gone it would be Jasmine. I had never seen anyone take to Hesper’s eccentricities quite like her—and never seen Hesper accept anyone into her circle quite so easily. Maybe this was a girl thing. I gathered her clutch and mask and slipped out into the hall.
It was empty. I lurked outside the bathroom for a minute, hesitating, but her safety was more important than my dignity. I charged inside. Every stall door was open and empty. Real fear started to clutch at my stomach, and I hurried for the vestibule doors, and there, caught in one of them, was a tattered, sheer purple scarf—like the skirt of her dress.
Hesper’s phone rang.
“Felix? Did you find her?” Jasmine asked breathlessly.
“No.”
“Check by her Jeep. I’ll call security.”
I gave her my own number so she could call me back. Even from the door I could see Calamity was parked right where we’d left her; still, I favored my bad leg but managed a shuffling sort of run. My phone’s flashlight app illuminated the vehicle, but I rattled the door handle and it was still locked. The driver’s seat was still pushed forward to accommodate her shorter frame. There was an empty spot a few cars down that hadn’t been there when we parked, and I walked it carefully, shining my phone’s light on the ground, searching for another piece of fabric or something, anything, to tell me she’d been here.
I turned to head for the building when I saw the purple, glittery bobby pins scattered on the pavement. They matched her dress. Jasmine had done her hair. They had to be hers.
My phone rang, a shrill sound in the cold, quiet night, and I answered before the first full ring was up.
“I have the guest list. Come look it over with me and see if you recognize anyone. Security is pulling the camera footage.”
I scrolled through Hesper’s missed calls, a chill seizing me.
I hoped I was wrong.
I wasn’t.
“Is there another Stalides on the list?”
“What, like, family?” She sounded relieved. “You think she might have left with family?”
“Not willingly. Ray Stalides?”
She went through the list of attendees, whispering their names to herself. “Yeah, I see him. He contributed a pretty hefty sum—a gold level donor.”
At the end of the day, Hesper was right. An order of protection wouldn’t have meant a thing in the world to him, because he had always treated everyone and everything like his personal possessions. Did it surprise me, really, that he had bought his way in here, simply taken her because her will, the law, none of it really mattered to him?
No.
Of course it didn’t.
She had been so afraid she had thrown up at the sound of his voice on the message machine. I had promised her I would watch out for her, and now she was God knows where, probably scared half out of her mind, while he berated her and abused her and convinced her she was the one in the wrong. It was what he had always done, would always do given a chance.
Why hadn’t she taken her phone?
“Felix!” Jasmine screamed; I wasn’t sure how long she’d been talking while my panic spiraled out of control. “Do I need to call the police?”
“Yes,” I choked out.
“Okay. I’m going to hang up now. Meet me at the security office.”
She hung up, and for once I was grateful for her bossiness because I needed some direction, someone to tell me what to do because I knew her dad was a trash bag but this—this—I made myself take deep, even breaths. I was equipped to handle Hesper’s meltdowns, but this was the first time I’d experienced one myself. I couldn’t afford to freak out now. Not when she was relying on me. Because I knew where they were going, where he would have taken her: home to Missouri, which meant he had a long drive ahead of him.
If we drove fast enough, we might be able to catch up. He only had a twenty-minute head start.
I wanted to hop in Calamity and start driving, but when I thought with my brain instead of with my panic, I knew the smart thing to do was go with someone else. We could drive through the night that way, and if we did catch up, I’d need backup. Between my bad knee and my compromised judgment—my fear for Hesper ruled my every impulse—it would not go well. My hands were shaking when I dialed Jackson’s number.
It rang five times before he answered, thumping bass and a cacophony of voices almost drowning him out. He had to shout to be heard.
“What’s up?”
“I need your help.” I strode down the hall toward the security office. My phone beeped with call-waiting—Jasmine. “Please.”
“Hold on, bro.” The noise level dropped significantly. “You okay?”
I shouldered my way through the door. Jasmine had changed into jeans and a pink hooded sweatshirt, a duffel bag with her orange dress peeking out on her lap. She shared a seat with a cute blonde girl, leaning over a security guard’s shoulder. The image frozen on the screen confirmed my worst fear—Hesper, struggling against a balding man in a suit, her mouth twisted in a scream. He was older, grayer, but I still recognized Hesper’s father. On his hip was the thing that would make it almost impossible to stop him.
A badge.
“Felix. You there?” Jackson asked, his tone uneasy.
“Are you sober?”
“Yeah—what’s the point of getting drunk before midnight? Why?”
“How fast can you get to Morrow? Hesper’s in trouble. I need backup.”
“Stay put. I’ll be there soon.”
He hung up on me but that was fine—it simply meant he was on his way, because he always came through in the clutch. Jasmine put down her cellphone, pale under her amazing painted mask. Her lipstick was smudged and her eyes were wide and frightened.
It had only been a few hours ago that she had kicked me out of Hesper’s bedroom—our bedroom—to do their makeup.
“The police are on their way. I called in an abduction. It’s her dad, so he won’t hurt her, right?”
“I wish I could tell you he wouldn’t, but…” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I know where he’s taking her, and if he gets her there, back on his home turf…it’s not gonna be pretty. My friend Jackson Maddox is on his way here, and we’re going after them.”
“I’m coming too.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” She put her hands on her hips, glaring.
“I mean Ray has no respect for women, and it’ll be a miracle if we get Hesper back unharmed. I’m not dragging another girl into the equation.”
“Are you saying I’m a liability? She’s my friend too. I’m scared, Felix, and I’m not going to sit at home and hope things turn out okay. I’m coming!”
“Once she’s set her mind to it, there’s no point trying to convince her otherwise,” sighed the blonde—Jasmine’s…ex? Girlfriend? Who knew.
“Tamry is right,” Jasmine agreed. “Besides, don’t count me out of a fight just because I’m a girl. I have three older brothers. I know how to mess a guy up, and Hesper’s douchebag father is what, in his fifties? Besides, if your buddy Jackson is built like you, he doesn’t stand a chance. Every minute you spend arguing is a minute farther away Hesper is.”
Sirens wailed, far off but getting closer.
“Fine. By the time the report is finished Jackson should be here.” I winced. I knew his driving, and the hour trip would take him forty minutes tops.
Three officers came in; I wordlessly handed them the piece of Hesper’s dress I’d found in the door. It was crumpled from my clenched fist, where I had been unconsciously clinging to it. I told them where to find the bobby pins, and one of them went out to photograph and collect them. It was a frustrating waste of time; this wasn’t a mystery. One wanted to ask a few questions; he sat across from me with a pad and a pen, the other standing by the door with his arms crossed, like we were the guilty ones who needed supervision. The questioning bordered on interrogation.
“I’m her husband!” I finally burst out indignantly. “I’m the one who noticed she was missing!”
“It’s always the husband,” Jasmine added sagely while Tamry swatted her arm to make her shut up.
“We literally have video proof it’s not the husband this time, whose side are you on?” she hissed.
My phone vibrated—a text from Jackson.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I snapped, “my ride is here, and I’m going to find Hesper.” The even if you won’t was implied.
And why were they lollygagging? Why were they dragging their feet? Because the rest of the security footage had been found, where Ray had dragged my screaming, crying wife across the parking lot and shoved her into the back seat of his car. The college’s cameras were good. I could see her beating on the glass of the back window. The vehicle, of course, was Ray’s marked Missouri state police squad car—something he could get through roadblocks in, with safety features like a black mesh cage between the front and the back and doors that only opened from the outside.
Even here, even with evidence, the Pennsylvania state troopers were reluctant to go after one of their own. But I was done being patient. I had to get Hesper back. If he made it back to Missouri with her, I might never see her again. Here, they were hesitant to go after him; on his home turf, he was untouchable.
“Get a DVD of the security tapes,” Jasmine murmured in Tamry’s ear, tucking an errant strand of hair away from her face.
“Will do. You be careful, okay?”
Jasmine’s smile was dazzling. “Always, dear.” She leaned forward and I suddenly realized why her lipstick was smeared as she kissed her. When she pulled back, Tamry looked starry-eyed and dazed. “I still got it.” Jasmine winked and handed her girlfriend her duffel bag. “I’ll call you when we’re on our way home.” She glared at one of the officers. “With Hesper.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but with her typical dramatic flair, she marched past the man guarding the door and into the night. I went after her before they could stop me, still holding on to Hesper’s purse and mask like a life ring. Jackson was leaned against the El Camino waiting. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Jasmine.
“Three to a seat’s gonna be a tight squeeze.”
“We’ll manage,” she said airily, breezing past him. “Unless you want me to strap you to the roof, and then we’d only have two to a seat.”
I let out a harsh, unexpected bark of laughter at the baffled look on Jackson’s face. This was not the reaction he was used to getting—and now two women had shut him down within a couple of months. My hands trembled as I unlocked Calamity’s door, and the three of us piled inside on the bench seat.
“This isn’t a solid plan,” Jackson said doubtfully.
“I don’t care. I’m not coming home without Hesper.”
I felt his eyes on me, piercing, as I watched the mirrors and backed out of the parking spot.
“You would go to the ends of the earth for this girl. You really meant it when you married her, didn’t you?”
Not at the time. I didn’t know, didn’t understand what I could have, didn’t realize it was everything I wanted—what all I was willing to give up in order to have it. It was really about tuition when this whole thing started, about fixing what I had lost instead of realizing what I would gain. I married my best friend before I knew I was in love with her.
“Yes,” I agreed for simplicity’s sake. “I meant it.”
Chapter Eleven
Hesper
EVENTUALLY I STOPPED screaming. At some point, I just realized it wasn’t going to make any difference—nobody was around to hear me. Still, Ray tried to make small talk, and I stared listlessly out of the window. Every time we sped under a streetlamp, I saw the outline of his fingers on my arm, the beginning of bruises blossoming on my skin. When I was sure he wasn’t looking, I took off my ring and stealthily stashed it down the front of my dress. I didn’t want to give him any more ammunition than he already had.
“You have to talk to me at some point.”
“The fuck I do,” I hissed.
He hit his brakes hard enough to send me slamming into the cage.
“Language!”
Ray’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. If there wasn’t grated metal between us, he’d have reached out and smacked me across the mouth. If there was one thing he hated, it was someone standing up to him.
“I can’t believe you were so selfish. Do you know how worried I was when you just up and vanished?”
All I could think of was Felix—how scared he had been the day he came home and couldn’t find me. What did he think when I didn’t come back from the bathroom? When I had left all my stuff at the table?
“You should have come home. We could have talked it out. You’re being unreasonable, but you always have been—too much of your mother in you.”
The speedometer crept incrementally higher, closer and closer to ninety. It was a twelve-hour drive going the speed limit, but at this rate we’d make it in eight or nine. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into the silence I grew up with, to tune out his endless chatter. It was less painful. My ears heard it, but my mind was on the pavement stretching out ahead of us, a road ending right back in the hell I thought I’d got out of. Everything he said rolled off my hardened heart, because I knew the truth of it—beneath the guilt trip he was trying to lay on me, there was nothing but rage.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me be a part of your life.”
Sometimes miles passed between the verbal barrages.
“You’re such a spoiled brat. You’re so selfish.”
Sometimes they were one after the other.
“You broke my heart.”
All of them were lies.
“I know you’re an adult and can make your own choices, but I have no idea what I did that’s so terrible it would cause you to turn your back on me and Jo.”
That guilt trip worked: when I had run away, I had essentially painted a target on my stepmom’s back. If he didn’t have me to torment, he would take the next closest thing.
“I put a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and this is how you repay me?”
I didn’t dare hum out loud, but I repeated my favorite lyrics over and over in my head, trying to drown him out.
“I tried to leave you alone, thinking you needed some time and you would call. I lay in bed nearly every night wondering what I did to make you turn your back on us.”
I counted the light posts on the interstate flashing overhead. I counted my breaths.
“I’ve spent many nights with little or no sleep just missing you. I’ve sat and watched videos of you when you were small and sat and cried…”
When he realized he was making no headway—I was present in body but not in spirit—he changed his tactics, knowing laying on guilt and false affection did nothing. I could see right through it. I knew what he was really like.
But he knew where my weakness was.
“As soon as we get home, I’ve got to get you something to wear. That dress is disgusting.”
I picked absently at the skirt, crumpled and torn and ruined now, several scarves missing. I loved my dress. It had made me feel beautiful—which was an entirely new experience. The list of things Ray hated was very long, and most of them included me. He hated women, people who stood up for themselves, anyone who wore anything bigger than a size six. I was all of them, the triple threat that made me a target.
“Have you grown up at all? Still got your head in the clouds?”
I laid down in the seat, staring vacantly at the ceiling, fixating on the roar of the tires, numb to the thirst and exhaustion and the fear and the sinking feeling I had lost it—lost everything, or that everything I had in Pennsylvania was only borrowed, and I should have known I’d lose it eventually. It was never really mine to begin with.
“Randy told me you were married. I thought you didn’t like anyone. Maybe now you’ll realize how selfish it is not to want children, how much that would hurt your husband. I told you it was a sad, lonely life without kids.”
Tears rolled down the sides of my face, but I was careful not to make a sound.
“Who did you marry? Some art school hippie drop-out?”
Replying would only let him know he was getting to me. Control was his game. Fear was his power.
“Oh my God,” he snapped, disgusted. “Tell me it wasn’t that kid you ran off with. The Morlan boy.”
I tapped the heel of my sparkly sneaker against the window, wondering what would break first if I tried to kick my way free—my body or the glass.
“You did this just to spite me.”
I didn’t have my medicine with me. He didn’t even know I took medicine—that I’d finally gotten help for all the bullshit trauma and resulting mental health issues he’d caused me. No doubt he would mock me for that too.
“You must be ashamed, since you didn’t spread the word. You’re ruining the Stalides name with that trailer trash—”
The things he had said about me were probably valid—that I was ugly, unloved and unlovable, stupid and broken and disrespectful and generally an unbearable burden. They were things I had always accepted as truth in my heart, despite Felix’s insistence my father was just messing with my head.
But Felix. Felix was off-limits.
I snapped.
“Shut up!” I screamed, sitting upright, locking my fingers through the grid of the cage and rattling it. “I ran away for a reason, just leave me alone! I don’t ever want to hear his name outta your mouth again!”
