Moms Night Out (24 page)

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Authors: Tricia Goyer

Tags: #science

BOOK: Moms Night Out
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There was something more to Sondra and Zoe too. Sondra’s arm was around her daughter and there was a closeness to them that Allyson hadn’t seen before. Weary, but together.

Allyson rushed forward and placed her hand on Sondra’s hand that was on Zoe’s shoulder. Zoe glanced up looking exhausted. Whatever fight had been in her earlier was gone.

“Ah, Sondra. Are you okay?” Allyson asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Now where are we going?” Sondra attempted to stand, but then plopped down again.

“We’re going back to Caprice’s, but don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Allyson felt energy surging through her. They’d gone through so much together, yet they’d come out of it in one piece. She saw herself differently thanks to Bones. She saw Bridget differently too. Now they just had to finish this.

“Yeah, I’m going to come.” Sondra lifted her weary face and the florescent lights of the police station were especially harsh, making wrinkles appear where there hadn’t been any before. Or maybe it was the taser that has done that. “I want to move, but I’m a little stress paralyzed,” Sondra admitted.

Allyson turned to leave. “I knew that was a thing,” she mumbled.

Bridget walked by her side. They both moved with determination. With focus.

Sondra waved them on. “Yeah, I’m right behind you, just give me a few minutes and Ray and I will join you,” she mumbled as they left.

“Sounds good, and if you see Sean, please tell him where we have gone,” said Allyson.

Allyson rushed to the front waiting area, and she saw that Bones was gone. The warmth of his words was still with her, though, and that’s what mattered. They strode through the doors of the police station and Bridget stayed right beside her.

They walked out into the night, and she realized she had no idea what time it was. The stars were high, and the lights outside the police station highlighted one vehicle still parked right out front. Cabbie still waited for them, patiently.

Allyson jogged up to the side of the cab and realized that maybe he wasn’t being so patient after all. Cabbie was asleep. He was using his fedora for a pillow as he leaned against the window. Through the open window on the passenger’s side Allyson could hear his gentle snore. She leaned inside the open window and pounded on the inside of the door.

Cabbie jumped awake. His head popped up and eyes widened. “Yeah, sorry, referee!” he shouted, and he then realized that whatever he was shouting at was just a dream.

He looked around, startled, and then he fixed his eyes on Allyson. Cabbie smiled at her as if she was an old friend, and after tonight she guessed she was.

“Back to Caprice’s, yeah?” she asked.

He nodded, understanding.

Allyson opened the door and settled in the front seat. It was only as she sat that she’d realized she’d forgotten to get her cell phone from the console in her van before Izzy had left. No matter. Her guess was that Caprice should be back by now. Surely someone wouldn’t stay out this late with a baby.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

The cab parked outside of Caprice’s house, and Allyson and Bridget climbed out of the cab and raced up to the door. Allyson knocked on the wooden door with both of her fists. There was no answer, and they banged harder. Still no answer. They listened close for moment, but there was nothing.

“I know that you’re in there! Is Phoenix with you?” Bridget called out.

They moved to look through the windows but the curtains were too thick. They could see light, but nothing else. Surely if Phoenix was in there, and he heard Bridget’s voice, he’d cry out for her. Little babies loved their mamas, Allyson knew. Bridget was the one person who cared for him, who loved him most. What she succeeded at or failed at in life was no concern to him, as long as he was loved.

Bridget leaned closer, placing her ear against the window. “Is that a wrestling show?”

“All I hear is anger and rage. I don’t know.” Allyson hit the thick glass of the window again with her hand, harder.

They continued on for five more minutes, shouting, banging, calling out, but there was nothing. Finally, they both came to the realization that it was no use.

They pressed their backs against the cool door, defeated. Allyson didn’t know what to do next. Where to go.

“Got any other ideas?” Allyson asked, looking to Bridget out of the corner of her eye.

“Nope.”

It was a long moment of agonizing defeat. Then Allyson tilted her head. It sounded like a vehicle had stopped just beyond her line of view.

“Thanks for the ride!” a voice called. It sounded like Joey’s voice but she had to be mistaken.

Then, from the opposite direction of where the voice was, she spotted movement down the street.

“Wait, there’s the deadbeat!” Cabbie called out. Then he gunned it, taking off in the taxi.

Allyson tapped on Bridget’s shoulder, getting her attention. She pointed to Hank.

“Hey!” Bridget called, and before she could change her mind, Allyson raced his direction.

Hank’s eyes grew wide, and he panicked. Fear filled his face as if it was Big Foot that waited for him, not two women. “Lady, I don’t know! I told you I
don’t
know.” Hank tossed up his grocery bag, and then turned and ran. He cried out in squeaks as he darted.

Allyson ran down the steps, down the sidewalk, and across the lawn. Her dress pulled and tugged against her legs with her movement, but she gave it no mind. She carried her small purse like a runner carried a baton.

“Hank, get back here!” Allyson called after him. Feeling her speed—speed she didn’t realize she had—Allyson turned back to see if Bridget was following. Bridget had just rounded the corner of the house and was also in pursuit.

“Bridget, come on!”

Allyson turned back around just in time to see that someone stood directly in her path—an older man walking a dog. She flung her arms, and tried to put on the brakes, but her momentum was too strong. She braced herself and plowed into him. Thankfully he stood as firm as a rock. His dog danced around her, and she tried to pull free from the leash, still motioning after Hank, calling to him—as if it would do any good.

“I’m sure your baby’s fine!” Hank called back at them as he continued to run.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured to the older man.

Bridget raced up, holding her hand out, pointing something at the older man. “I have pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it!” Bridget called out.

The man lifted his hands. “Just calm down.”

“No, no, no!” Allyson called out to Bridget.

“I’m so sorry,” Allyson muttered to him. Then she spun around to Bridget. “It’s okay. It’s my fault . . .”

She opened her mouth to explain when another voice called out.

“No, no, no, Bridget!”

From the corner of her eye, Allyson saw someone else approaching—Joey!

“Bridget!” he said again, touching her arm.

Panicked, Bridget whipped around and sprayed the pepper spray at her attacker. Allyson gasped as she saw the spray hit Joey in the face.

He fell to the ground as if knocked off his feet.

“It burns! It burns!” His cries were so loud Allyson was sure they’d wake everyone in the neighborhood.

Bridget hurried over to Joey. He lay on his back, kicking his feet up in the air and then turned, pressing his face into his hands, and resting it on the ground, crying out.

“Wait. Joey?” Bridget cried, realizing what she’d done. “What are you doing here?” Bridget reached down to try to help him up.

Allyson didn’t have time to worry about them. She jumped up and down and pointed to Hank. “He’s getting away. He’s getting away!”

“You’re crazy.” Hank called over his shoulder, his greasy hair flapping as he ran. “You’re crazy!”

And just when Allyson thought there was no hope for catching up with Hank, Cabbie rounded the corner in the taxi, driving like a mad man. The cab fishtailed and headed straight toward Hank, to block him off. The cab started to brake, but not soon enough. Hank smacked into the hood.

As if in slow motion, his body somersaulted up the front of the hood, hitting the windshield. He slammed into the light on top that read Taxi, before sliding down again.

Allyson covered her mouth with her hand. It looked like something from a James Bond film.

Allyson winced, and she expected Hank to get up, but he just lay there as still as a statue. Then there was the slightest movement and moan. Allyson released the breath she’d been holding. The smell of burning rubber from the taxi’s tires filled the air.

Cabbie climbed out of the driver’s seat of his taxi and looked down at Hank. “That’s going to bring tears to his eyes.”

“Does he know where Phoenix is?” Allyson called to the cabbie, throwing up her hands.

“Well, he’s not exactly conscious,” the cabbie answered, wincing. The cabbie rubbed his chin. “If you know what I mean.”

“What?” She felt like sinking down to the ground in desperation. Couldn’t they get a break at all tonight?

Bridget wasn’t concerned about Hank. Her eyes were still shooting flaming arrows at her baby’s daddy.

Another moan filled the night, this time from Joey. Allyson looked back at him.

Joey stood, moaning again. He wiped his eyes. “I’m trying to find Phoenix,” he explained.

“So, after your big date you decided to come and help me?” Bridget cried out. With an open palm she swatted at Joey’s shoulder for emphasis.

Allyson could hear the pain in Bridget’s voice. Not only had Joey neglected their son, he was with someone else. No matter how much Joey had hurt Bridget, there was still a bond there. There would always be a bond.

Joey flinched and pulled away. He no longer wore his fedora. His dress shirt sleeves had been rolled up. His tie was loose and awkward. His hair was a tumbled mess, and tears ran down his face. There was nothing cool and suave about him now. Allyson just hoped that part of those tears were because of his missing son, not just the pepper spray. From the desperation in Joey’s voice, she guessed that they were.

“After my big date?” Joey shook his head. “What? No. After my interview. I was trying to get a job, man!” He rubbed at his eyes with two balled-up fists.

The anger on Bridget’s face softened. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re trying . . . a job?”

Then in the distance, Allyson heard something . . . the roar of motorcycle engines. Many engines.

“What is that?” She ran toward the road.

A mass of headlights moved up the street, casting a warm glow over the dark night. She recognized the person leading the way—Bones. If this had happened just one day ago she would have freaked out, would have run, maybe would have peed her pants. But even though Bones looked as big and tough as a WWF wrestler, she saw him differently now. He was Charles. He was on his own faith journey. Allyson smiled softly thinking that maybe her and Sean, Izzy, and Sondra would be there to help him with that. Bones had helped her see God differently. Maybe she’d been a little scared of him before too. Mostly because of Bones she saw herself differently too.

As the motorcycles neared, the dark street brightened around Allyson and Bridget like the morning sun. The ground began to shake and rumble. Allyson chuckled, and even though they had no idea where Phoenix was, they’d crossed a lot of miles tonight, and the sight of these motorcycle headlights stirred a glimmer of hope inside that they’d finish their journey with Phoenix in Bridget’s arms.

The motorcycles pulled up and parked one by one, smelling of oil, exhaust, hot metal, leather, and heat. Following them was a police car with lights strobing and behind that a vintage Mustang with Pastor Ray at the wheel. Allyson placed her hands on her hips. If she hadn’t seen this for herself, she never would have believed it.

With hurried movements, Pastor Ray climbed out of the driver’s seat, and then Allyson realized who his passenger was. Sondra! She climbed out, slammed the door, and rushed to them.

Sondra’s hair was no longer perfectly in place. Her white blouse was no longer tucked in, and from the awkward way she ran Allyson wondered if her limbs were still a little numb from the tasing. Yet Allyson had never seen her friend look so . . . real. Yes, that was the word.

Allyson reached out her hands. Sondra took them in her own. “Ally. I told Ray everything and he made some calls.”

Pastor Ray approached Bridget. It was only then that Allyson saw that the young mom’s eyes were larger than an Anime character—those Japanese cartoons that man-boy Kevin sometimes watched.

“Don’t freak out,” Pastor Ray’s voice was soothing, despite the production happening around them. “Half of these guys are from the First Baptist Church. The other half are from the bike gang known as the Skulls—” He paused and glanced up at Bones as if still trying to believe this was happening. “And we’re all here for the same reason.”

Sondra stepped closer to Bridget. “We love you, Bridget. We love your family. We always have,” Sondra cooed.

“That’s right,” Bones said.

It was then that Allyson saw someone else who’d shown up. Sean dismounted the coolest Harley of all. Where he got it from she had no idea, but her heart doubled in her chest and quickened its beat at the sight of him. He pulled off his helmet and approached, his lip curled up in that wonderful crooked smile of his. “Hi, honey.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing that things would be better now.

“You okay?”

She swallowed. Yes, she was now. She hoped he saw that in her eyes. And from the reflection in his own she knew he did.

“We got a baby to find!” Bones called out. A cheer rose up, and she recognized two more voices. She turned to the side and noticed Izzy and Marco were there too. They were all here. They’d all come . . . for Bridget. For Phoenix.

Many of the bikers shifted from side to side and their shoulders straightened. They looked ready to take action. They were here for a purpose.

The police captain had brought a few other cops as well, and they approached the small huddle. Looking around and seeing the anxiousness of the bikers, the police captain held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. First things first. We need to establish a twelve block grid.”

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