The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (19 page)

Vista, CA

Vincent tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but his stomach prevented restful sleep as it churned and gurgled. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or what he had eaten that was making him nauseous.

Unable to find comfort in any position, he sat up. The light glow coming through the blinds told him dawn was fast approaching. So unable to sleep, he decided to get up for the day.

Freshened up but not feeling any better, he made his way back to the living room and possibly another try at resting. When the light from his lantern hit the room, he found he wasn’t alone. Bridgette was sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised to see her.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

“I also wanted to say I was sorry.”

“We definitely need to work on our communication skills,” he said and made his way to the leather lounge chair next to the couch.

“Come here,” she said.

“Um, no, my foot aches and my stomach is a bit upset. I think I drank too much again,” he said as he dropped into the chair.

She stood and approached the chair. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t treat you the way I do. I owe you my life, I suppose.”

Vincent looked at her and cocked his head. There was something off about her. In fact, her demeanor and tone were not the same. The glow of the lantern caught her face just right, and he could see her face seemed emotionless. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, never been better,” she said as she untied the thick white robe she was wearing.

“Ahh, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to thank you, personally, for saving me and Noah,” she said and opened her robe, showing him she was naked.

Vincent instantly became nervous, not because a woman was about to throw herself at him, but because this was Bridgette and she might turn black widow on him in an instant. He not only couldn’t trust her, he knew she wasn’t in the state of mind to be making decisions that entailed intimacy. She was already on a warpath, adding sex to the equation would more than likely make everything go off the rails.

She straddled him and went to give him a kiss.

The warmth of her naked body felt good through his shorts and T-shirt, but he resisted. “Ahh, Bridgette, this is not a good idea.”

“It is, trust me.”

“Ahh, no, this isn’t a good idea in so many ways,” he pressed and pushed her away.

She disregarded his resistance and tried again to kiss him.

“Bridgette, no, seriously, this would be great. I love sex, believe me, but this complicates things, and I don’t think you really want this.”

“No, it’s fine, trust me,” she said again.

“No, it’s not fine because I don’t trust you,” he said and pushed her harder away from him.

She stopped trying to kiss him and asked, “What’s wrong with you? Are you gay?”

“God no, this, it’s not right. Your husband just died two days ago.”

Her face grew tense and she shoved him. With one arm covering herself she got off him and cursed, “Damn fool.”

“Here’s the Bridgette I know.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Bridgette, this is not a good idea. You don’t even like me, and just yesterday you said you don’t even know me. Listen, I think you’re good looking, but I can’t do this. I like Noah and I want to help you, but this, what you’re trying to do, that fucks things up.”

“So you won’t fuck me, my husband wouldn’t fuck me. The man who I can get to fuck me is some fat rapist at the hospital,” she yelled.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t, I just can’t in good conscience.”

“To hell with you,” she snapped and closed the robe tightly.

Vincent heard the distinct sound of pills in a plastic bottle coming from the pocket of the robe. He reached out and pulled the bottle out of her pocket.

“Give me that,” she barked.

He recoiled and looked at it. “Zoloft.”

“I found them upstairs; now give them to me.”

“Should you be taking these?” he asked.

She quickly snatched them from his hand and yelled, “I told you to leave me alone. It’s none of your business what I take or do!”

Vincent grew silent and watched her. Now he knew why she was there, now the empty expression on her face made sense, she was high on antidepressants.

“You’re a fucking faggot!” she barked and stormed off.

When he heard the upstairs bedroom door close, he sighed and thought about the complicated mess he was in. A strong temptation came over him to just leave. He hated drama and she was the queen of it. He could see how having her around put him at risk. She was a ticking time bomb and you never knew when she’d blow. Her problems were becoming a major liability for him, and he began to question his desire to help them.

Wellsville, Utah

“Where are they?” Nicholas stressed.

Sophie and Luke had missed the rendezvous time by almost two hours.

Bryn mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep.

“Sounds like she’s having a good dream,” Colin said.

“The sun will be up soon. I don’t know how long we can hold out,” Nicholas said.

They had gotten out of town and were waiting on a long gravel road a mile outside of the gravel pit.

“Do you suppose Luke screwed us again?” Colin asked.

“I guess it’s possible, but for what, Sophie?”

“Huh?” Bryn mumbled and lifted her head.

“Just sleep,” Colin said.

Bryn opened her swollen eyes and looked around. She blinked heavily and shook her head. “My head is killing me.”

The faint glow of the early dawn was making an appearance to the east.

“How’s your arm and shoulder?” Colin asked.

More awake, she sat up and replied, “Sore. Um, what’s this about Sophie?”

“She’s late,” Nicholas said.

“Late, why?”

“I don’t know, but I’m officially worried,” Nicholas said.

“We have to go find her, then,” Bryn flatly stated.

Nicholas pulled out his gold pocket watch and checked the time. “Hmm, easily two hours late.”

“We can’t leave her. Let’s head back,” Colin said.

“Head back and find us all under arrest, we can’t do that. We’ll never make it within a hundred feet of Sophie before the light is up if she’s been taken. But I have an idea,” Nicholas said and started the truck. He sped off towards the gravel pit.

“Just as Luke said,” Nicholas said and handed a pair of binoculars to Colin.

They had pulled off the road and taken up a hide position two hundred yards away from the gravel pit’s entrance.

Colin peered through and confirmed what Nicholas had seen. “Yep, only two guards. How strange?”

“Why is it strange to use only two people to guard a pile of rocks?” Bryn asked. “And why are we even at a fucking gravel pit when we should be finding Sophie?”

Nicholas looked and saw the eastern sky had brightened even more. He heard Bryn but was focused on removing the two guards now.

“The sun will be up in thirty minutes, no more time to waste. I’ll take the guy on the left, you the right,” Nicholas said as he put his AR-15 into his shoulder and aimed for his target.

“Roger that,” Colin replied and took aim with his rifle.

“What’s so strange?” Bryn asked again.

“There’s not just rocks in there, there’s also gold,” Nicholas replied to Bryn, never looking away from his optics. “You got your man?” he asked Colin.

“Yep.”

“On the count of three—one, two, three,” Nicholas said.

Nicholas and Colin fired within a tenth of a second of each other. Their aim was true, as both men dropped to the ground.

Through his optics, Nicholas continued to scan for other targets, but none showed.

“Good shot,” Nicholas said and got up. “Jump in the bed. I want you able to start shooting as we bust our way through,” Nicholas ordered as they all made their way back to the truck.

Colin got in the bed and placed his rifle on the roof of the cab.

Just before getting in, Nicholas looked at him and said, “Let’s go get some gold.”

Bryn took a hold of Nicholas’ arm before he could get into the truck and asked, “What we doing?”

“We’re going back to rescue Sophie, but I’m not going empty-handed.”

“You’re going to buy her back?”

“Sort of, consider the gold leverage,” Nicholas said as he tossed his rifle in the cab. He looked at Bryn and said, “Now get your skinny ass in the truck.”

Vista, CA

The restless night coupled with the brief encounter with Bridgette left Vincent exhausted to the point he slept in later than usual.

At first he thought the sound of the garage door opening was in his dreams, but when the SUV engine roared to life, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. Someone was stealing his vehicle.

He tossed off the blanket and began to race as fast as a person can with a bandaged broken foot. Along the way he grabbed his pistol and made for the front door. He was too late to catch them at the garage, but he hoped he’d be able to catch them at the gate.

He cleared the front door and jumped off the deck, landing on his good foot. At the gate, like he thought, was the SUV, but the person unlocking it wasn’t just anybody, it was Bridgette.

She turned and saw him coming. “Stay away from me!”

“Bridgette, you’re not taking my vehicle, it’s that simple!” he called back as he moved closer and closer to her.

She fiddled with the keys but was having a hard time finding the one to unlock the gate. Frustrated, she gave up and went to get back in.

He was now feet away. His options were limited, but the thought of shooting her popped in his mind.

Noah screamed.

“Shut up!” she yelled back then slammed down on the accelerator and busted through the wrought-iron gate with one attempt.

Vincent could not let her leave with his vehicle. It was his lifeblood, and without it, he had no quick way to get to Idaho. He took aim on the rear tire and squeezed.

The bullet hit its mark, causing the tire to explode; however, she didn’t slow down. He took aim on the right rear tire and squeezed, but this time he missed.

She was getting farther away but couldn’t get too far, he thought.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he watched her accelerate faster.

She came to the main road, but with her excessive speed and the complications caused by the flat left rear tire, she lost control of the vehicle, slamming it into the ditch.

The crunch and scream of twisted metal told him the vehicle had taken some serious damage.

The horn blared but stopped after a few seconds.

His foot was throbbing with pain, but he moved as fast as possible towards the SUV.

The passenger door opened. Noah got out and walked towards him.

“You okay?” Vincent asked.

Noah nodded and said, “My mom is hurt.”

Vincent came to the passenger side and looked in. There he saw Bridgette conscious, bleeding badly from her head and face, but pointing a pistol at him. He immediately jumped back just as she pulled the trigger.

“I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

“Don’t do this, Bridgette. Please, you’re making a mistake.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Noah, go back inside. I don’t need you to see this,” Vincent warned.

“What are you going to do to my mom?” Noah asked a look of concern for his mother written on his face and in the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, but I can’t have her shooting at me.”

“Mom, please stop shooting, please!” Noah cried.

“Baby, come to Momma. Don’t listen to him.”

“Noah, your mom is sick. Don’t go near her just yet.”

“You shut up, you hear me, you shut the hell up and leave my boy alone!”

“Bridgette, you’re more than welcome to leave and go home, but you’re not taking my vehicle, it’s that simple,” Vincent said as he sat crouched next to the right rear tire, his pistol firmly in his grip.

“Honey bear, come help Momma get out of this car,” Bridgette asked, her tone softer.

Noah stepped closer but stopped when Vincent motioned him to.

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“I’m stuck. The door is crushed against my side and the seatbelt is stuck,” she answered.

“Bridgette, I can help, but you have to promise not to shoot me,” Vincent said.

“You stay the hell away from me!”

“I won’t hurt you, I’ll just free you, and you can go on your merry way.”

“Ahh, damn!” she cried out.

“Momma?” Noah whined.

“Come here, baby, I need you.”

Noah stepped closer, but Vincent this time held him. “No, not until we make sure she won’t hurt you.”

“I hear you. I won’t hurt my boy, let him go, now,” she said and pulled the trigger.

Glass from the right rear passenger window rained down on their heads.

“Stop shooting, you crazy fucking bitch!”

“Fuck you,” she screamed and shot again.

Noah cried out, “Stop it, Momma, stop it!”

“I’ll stop shooting, just come and get me out,” she begged.

“Don’t, Noah,” Vincent said.

He pulled away and yelled, “She’s my mother!” He walked up to the passenger front door and looked in. “I’m here, Momma.”

“Climb in, baby, help me.”

Vincent didn’t trust her not to do something erratic, but what were his choices? He could jump up and put some lead in her, but then what? He had to trust she wouldn’t hurt her own son.

“Can you get it, sweetie?” she asked, referring to the seat belt.

“I can’t.”

“Noah, I have a knife inside the glove compartment; use it to cut the seatbelt,” Vincent recommended.

Noah did as he suggested and seconds later she said, “Thanks, baby, now help pull me out.”

Vincent skirted away towards the rear of the vehicle and took up a position.

Slowly Noah pulled her out and onto the ground.

She grunted when she hit the ground. “I think I broke my leg or worse.”

“Momma, it’s your leg,” Noah squealed and pointed at the bloody bone protruding out from her left leg.

“Oh no, I broke my leg and my face. How bad is my face, baby?” she asked Noah as her trembling hand examined the deep laceration on her forehead and the even deeper and longer one on the left side of her head. Blood was everywhere as it freely streamed from her wounds down her face and onto her chest. She looked down at her leg and placed her shaking hand on the thick bone that stuck out of her femur. She cringed and began to sob when she touched the bloodied white mass as if her sense of touch made it a reality. “What have I done?” she moaned.