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Chapter Eight
Willa
May 17th…
“Ms. Franks,” the man I presume is Anders McKay greets me as he walks in the living room where I’ve been waiting for him. He was meeting with my parents, finalizing the details to officially end the case on both sides, and had asked to speak with me as I had him.
“Willa, please. And you must be Mr. McKay.”
“Anders.” I nod, acknowledging it.
“I was told you wanted to speak with me,” he states, graciously allowing me to go first.
“Yes, to thank you and your team. If it hadn’t been for your employee, Jesse, tailing me…” I trail off, not wanting to list nor think about the possibilities. John Dixon, working under the stage name Mason Dixon, was an extra, not the lead or anywhere close to it, on the set of my parents’ first movie, the one where they met and fell in love. In his head, he was the star, as was my mom, and it was the start of their lives together. My mom was introduced to him the first day, as she was to every member of the cast and crew she didn’t know, and was nice to him. That’s all it took for him to create an epic love story, which didn’t happen because of my dad, in his mind.
He bided his time, spending some of it seeking the help he needed and not receiving enough of it, but he had been doing better. Until the anniversary of that movie neared, once again triggering his anger and leading him to create this plan. If he took me, they’d fall apart and he’d swoop in, saving the day. He informed the police that his plan was always to return me, never to harm me, but items found in his trunk proved to be contrary to that declaration. As to how he knew where I would be and when, it appears he was able to get a job at Winfield, posing as a custodian, and had somehow gotten access to my cell and stuck a tracker in the case. As well as downloading a program to my phone that allowed him to know what I was doing at all times, including seeing when I requested a ride. He didn’t know if he’d beat the actual driver, but he was willing to try. And it paid off.
Two detectives had visited me in the hospital, needing to take my statement and verify the identity of the man who took me. They’re the ones who filled in all the details for me and my parents. They showed me a few pictures, some more recent than others, but they were all definitely him. I wanted to ask if the injuries in the last couple were sustained during the accident, but I didn’t.
My heart already knew the answer and I didn’t want to risk bringing it to their attention if they’d decided otherwise. I hadn’t missed the cuts on Austin’s hands, the blood, when I’d woken to see him sitting beside my bed. They’d both been wrapped around my left, squeezing, urging me to wake up, so he wasn’t exactly worried about hiding them from me. Keeping his vow of having no more secrets.
“As you know since you’d given permission, we were tapped into your phone. When we saw you request the ride, we immediately moved to get in place. I didn’t know why you were coming to see me then, but we wanted to ensure you made it to the office regardless. Austin,” my heart hurts as he says his name for the first time since arriving, the ache of him disappearing strengthening with each hour that passes without hearing from him, “was only minutes behind Jesse.” Ironic that Dixon, the man that wanted to hurt me, and Bastion Defenses, the company hired to stop that from happening, knew how to find me because both had accessed my phone.
“Is Austin okay?” Perhaps I shouldn’t ask his boss that, my brain warning me he’ll pick up on the fact he’s more than a bodyguard to me, but I need to know.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Shaking my head in confusion, I tell him, “I haven’t spoken to him since I woke up in the hospital.”
“He contacted me, informed me of the situation, then quit.”
“What?”
He shrugs, then seeing that I need more than that, continues, “That aspect of the job has always weighted heavily on him and he does his best to avoid it whenever possible.” He gets quiet, like he’s debating whether to share something else. “Do you know why I chose him for the assignment?”
“Austin said it’s because of how young he looks.”
“That’s part of it. Did he tell you what happened to his mom?” My expression gives him what he needs to know because he continues, adding what Austin hadn’t said about her cancer diagnosis. “He dropped out his senior year to be with her. In my mind, this was an opportunity for him to experience what he missed, not that he ever saw it that way. To him, being with her was more important. But even with both of those reasons fueling my decision, I knew he’d balk at the need for lying and almost gave it to someone else.”
“Why didn’t you?” Anders doesn’t answer until I look at him.
“I watched his face as he opened the file. I witnessed his reaction to seeing your photo.” I listen, even holding my breath, not wanting to interrupt him. “I’ve known Austin for a few years. He’s a good guy, one of the best actually. Did you know the team calls him Angel?” I shake my head no, and when he explains why, I start to see how much it costs Austin to withhold the truth when his work demands it. But he does it because of the stakes are too high not to. “I witnessed him falling in love with you.”
“It was just a picture of me.”
“Love at first sight doesn’t have to happen in person.” I let that soak in, absorbing the hurt over him ghosting me, realizing that he probably only did so because he thought it was what I wanted. In his defense, we didn’t exactly leave things in a good place, then I was kidnapped and didn’t get the chance to tell him I wasn’t mad at him. “Oh, and one more thing, Willa? Austin refused a salary for this case. He told me to donate it.”
Some of my favorite books are where the male lead has to grovel, hoping it’s enough for the female to forgive him. There are hardly any where the opposite is true, yet it’s exactly what I need to do, so I hope I get right.
Glancing at Anders, I state, “I need your help.”
Chapter Nine
Willa
May 19th…
“Are you sure he’s coming?” I ask Anders for the third time. I catch him mid-eye roll as I turn to look at him, finally shifting from where I’d been standing within sight of the doors, and realize my estimate of three was a bit off. It might’ve been more like ten.
