The Thief Redeemer (8 page)

“Tommy,” I nod over to him, “will go get the money, and I’ll
stay here with the girl. I’m not letting her out of my sight. I need a moment
alone with Tommy first.” They release us both, and we walk over to the corner.
I tell Tommy to get the cash from the safe located in our apartment, and I give
him instructions on what car to bring. I tell him to bring Carlos and Marcus
for backup when he returns.

Tommy leaves, and I walk over to Claire to remove the cloth.
I run my hand down her face, and tears leak from her eyes. I know the men are
watching us, but I’m beyond caring.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths, and I bend down to kiss her
forehead. I step behind her to remove the rope that binds her hands together,
and then I remove the ropes at her feet. The men are watching my every move and
I know they think I’m planning an escape, but I’m not. I pull her up to stand
and she does, but I notice her knees are wobbly. I wish I could take her back
to my own room, but at least I’m here now to keep her safe. I sit on the chair
and pull her onto my lap.

She buries her face in my chest, and for a minute I am lost.
How did I ignore her for the past week? I realize I have thrown my pride out
the window with this girl. I run my hands through her hair and hold her close.
I inhale her scent and relax holding her body. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I
can feel the lost connection I had with Claire resurfacing. I briefly wonder if
she feels this too, but I push those thoughts aside. Now’s not the time or
place to let myself wonder about our relationship status.

I’m holding her and she’s safe. That’s what’s important.

I look across to the men and narrow my eyes. They seem to be
in conversation, but I know they’re focused on Claire and me. I’ll kill them if
they try to hurt her.

I really will kill them.

I feel her tears on the skin of my neck and wonder how a
tiny, blonde angel can wreak such havoc on my soul. How can burying her head
into my chest cause me to forget what I am and want to offer her the world? I
kiss the top of her head.

I know my boys will be back soon, and, I start to think of
the easiest way to get out of this mess. I’m devising a plan when the door
swings open, displaying Carlos, Tommy and Marcus. Carlos and Tommy are scary
looking guys, but Marcus has them all beat. They glance at me, holding Claire,
while the gang members stand to attention. I don’t know how this will go down,
and I don’t want Claire to be around when it does. I pull her up off the chair,
and we move to the door.

“Not so fast,” the leader says as he steps in front of the
door. “I need to count the money and see the vehicle.” No one says a word as
Tommy hands him the envelope. This won’t set us back too much, but still, I’m
burning $100,000 and I’m starting to get impatient.

“Look, take the keys and let us go. We’re good for our
word.”

The leader walks over to us and looks me up and down. Claire
hides behind me, never letting go of my hand. “I want to know why this girl
means so much to you.”

I see red and my free hand balls into a fist. “That’s none
of your business.”

“She must be something good if you’re willing to pay this
much money for her.” He’s got that smirk on his face, and I’m about to lose it.
Marcus puts his hand on my chest and backs me up. He gets in the leader’s face
and hands him the keys. I head towards the door as the leader calls back to me.

“Hey. Who are you that you think you can leave? Who are you
that you have so much money?”

I stop and look back into his green eyes. “Who am I? WHO AM
I?” My voice is getting louder, and I’ve hit the limit. “I’m Brandon Wilson and
YOU are pissing me off!” At the sound of my name all the men from the gang back
away. I might not be in a gang, but my name holds power in these parts. “And
you kidnapped my girlfriend. And if you EVER touch her again, there will be
hell to pay. You got that?” I’m yelling into the leader’s face, and I can tell
he’s scared. But I also know he’s young and stupid. He’s cocky, too, and he’s
one of those boys who have been taught never to back down.

Quicker than we can react, he pulls his gun. That’s when I
notice that during the scuffle, I have released Claire’s hand. She’s standing
with her back against the wall, vulnerable to all attacks.

Before I can do anything to stop the leader, he pistol-whips
Claire in the face. Her entire body turns as she immediately crumples to the
ground.

“HELL NO!” I shout and the fighting begins.

I GLANCE AT Claire, lying on my bed,
with the ice pack covering half her face. Her left eye is swollen shut and the
bruising has already begun. The entire left side of her face is puffy and red.
I swallow, and rage begins to make its way into my bloodstream. My men could
have been injured, and Claire lies here with a pistol-whipped cheek. Thank
goodness she doesn’t need medical care.

I beat the leader to a pulp. That’s all I really remember.
The temper and rage inside of me took control, and I lost all feeling of
reality. I hit and hit until I didn’t hear the gunshots. We left two of their
members dead, and I’m not sure about the leader. He seemed unconscious. I would
have kept going if Marcus hadn’t held me back and motioned towards the other
two. I know there will be retaliation from the gang. You don’t mess with their
members and not expect payback.

Thankfully, by the end of the fight, our work shift was
over, and Marcus was able to get Tommy and Carlos to the hospital for their
small injuries. I brought Claire back to my apartment. This is the last time I
let anyone else take care of her. Let the men call me a pansy. This won’t
happen again.

I haven’t felt this kind of rage in years. Seeing the gang
leader hit her ignited a fire in me I had thought was gone. It was the same
rage I’d felt when my brothers were denied a life with me due to my “lack of
self-control.” I’d overturned seats and tables in the courtroom, which resulted
in me spending thirty days in jail. That was the same rage I felt now. No one
messed with my brothers. No one messes with Claire.

I should be angry with her, but I’m not. If any other
hostage had done this, I would have let them get what they deserved. The only
reason she was in decent condition when I found her was because those boys were
planning on turning her in for the money. They were going to be the heroes. Now
they’re probably out for blood. My blood. Between Claire and me, we have a
pretty hefty price tag on our heads.

I sit on the side of the bed and she opens her right eye. A
lone tear slides down her face, and I wipe it away with my thumb. She hasn’t
said much since we’ve been back, and I’ve allowed the silence to extend between
us.

This is all my fault. I should never have let her out of my
sight.

I kiss her on the forehead and turn to look out the window.
I wish we could have taken her to the emergency room with Tommy and Carlos, but
I knew she’d be recognized. I have been pistol-whipped before, and you heal.
I’m just furious that it happened to someone as good as Claire.

“I’m sorry, Brandon,” she says, accompanied with a sniffle.
She’s about to cry, and I don’t think I can take anymore of her tears.

“Baby, it’s okay. Please don’t apologize.” I wipe her tears
away again and she winces. She’s holding her ice pack with one hand and the
other is helping me wipe away tears.

“This will heal. It will take a few months, but trust me, it
will heal.” I long to kiss her lips, but I know this isn’t the right moment.
With Claire it has to be the right moment.

I have already given her Tylenol but there’s nothing else I
can do to heal the pain. If only it was me that had been hit. That stupid
asshole did this to spite me. Of course, we took our money back and road away
in the car we had promised him. Shit, I will have some serious repercussions to
pay for this. I push all these thoughts on the back burner, though. I have
Claire to worry about first.

She struggles to sit up, and I help adjust the pillows
behind her back. “Want to watch some television?” I ask, turning towards the
small television in my room.

“No.” She puts her hand on my forearm and stops me. I glance
back and see the red, swollen skin beneath the ice pack.

“What can I do to help?” My voice is pained and vulnerable.
I hate that I’m this vulnerable around her, but seeing her hurt like this is
killing me.

“Tell me what I did wrong.”

Her statement hangs in the air. I’m not sure why she asks
this question. “What you did wrong was run away in a rough neighborhood.”

“No. Why have you ignored me this past week? You took off my
handcuffs and told me that if I was good I wouldn’t have to have them back on,
and then the next thing I know, I’m under Tommy’s care and I’m back to the
cuffs.” She repeats her question. “What did I do wrong?”

I freeze because I don’t know what to tell her. Do I say it
was because of my pride? That I can’t appear weak in front of my employees? No,
I’d sound like a total prick, even though that’s the truth.

But I can’t come up with any other explanation. The seconds
tick away as I run my hand down my face and look the other direction. I blindly
grab her hand and run my thumb across her knuckles. Her skin feels amazing and
I am immediately distracted by other thoughts.

I force myself back into the here-and-now and decide on the
truth. I’m sure as hell not going to mess this up with a lie.

“You did nothing wrong. It was my pride.” I turn to face her
and look in her one good eye. She studies me for a second and then nods her
head as if she understands.

“The men were giving you a hard time with how you acted
towards me.” Her voice is a whisper, and I nod, my only form of communication.
It’s a question but she says it like a statement. I look at the floor and feel
like such an ass. Because of my pride, my girl got pistol-whipped, and I have a
price tag on my head.

“Don’t blame yourself for any of this, Claire. My pride is
what did this. My pride is what hurt you.” I run my hand down my face and she
squeezes my other hand. We are silent for a minute before I decide to change
the subject. “Are you hungry or thirsty? I’ll go get you anything.”

“I’m a little hungry. But I can I eat in your room? I don’t
want Sarah to see me.” I tell her yes and walk away to get some food from
Sally. Sally helps me make a sandwich, and I carry it back to the room. I set
the tray in her lap and turn on the television. There’s nothing on, but I know
she can’t read with one eye. She slowly eats her food as I sit beside her,
staring blankly at the television.

I realize this is the most we’ve spoken since she’s been
here and I’m thankful she’s at least being verbal. The atmosphere around us is
more relaxed. I’m not sure if me saving her has anything to do with this, but I
think I broke down one of her walls today. Part of me wishes I could put this
entire kidnapping thing behind me and pretend it never happened.

The other, selfish part is glad it happened. I never would
have gotten to touch or be with Claire if it hadn’t.

I MAKE THE call to take the entire
next week off, and I hear the moan from my employees. If they don’t work, they
don’t get paid. I understand, but this is my business, and I call the shots.
Plus, I have to take care of my girl. I keep Claire’s ice pack full and make
sure she ices her face every twenty minutes. The next morning her injuries are
worse, and I cringe when I see her face. I remind her the second day is usually
worse and after a few tears, she turns her focus back to the television.

After glancing at herself one more time, she decides not to
look in the mirror for the rest of the week. I agree and tell her she’s in good
hands - mine. I’m shocked when she doesn’t resist.

It’s the second night since the incident, and we lie in bed,
the darkness surrounding us. Neither of us speaks, and I’m wondering how badly
her face hurts.

“Brandon?” She breaks the silence with my name, and my heart
jumps a little. Why do I react this way when she says my name? I hate myself
for being this way towards her, yet I also love it.

“Yeah.”

She pauses for a minute as silence once again consumes us.
“Thank you for saving me. I don’t think I ever said thank you.”

“Of course.” How can she not think I would save her? Hell, I
would track her down to the ends of the earth.

Another minute of silence crosses between us. “Can I ask you
another question?”

“Sure.”

“Why were you in my dad’s office that day?”

I run my hand down my face in the dark and ponder telling
her the truth. But then I decide why the hell not. I have kidnapped her, after
all, and am holding her against her will.

“Your dad has some files I want. Some very important files
about my family.”

She pauses and then starts again. “What kind of files?”

I take a deep breath and exhale in the darkness. “Remember
at the Cheesecake factory I told you about my brothers?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is soft and angelic.

“They’re ten years younger than I am. We were raised by our
grandparents, and I was trouble in high school. Always in fights, bad temper,
always hitting things.” I hear her laugh in the darkness and turn my head.
“What?” I ask with a slight smile on my face.

“I don’t think much has changed,” she says, and I hear the
slight laughter in her voice.

“Maybe not.” I have a smile on my face. Only she could take
this serious moment and make me smile. I wait a moment for the laughter to die
down before I continue. “My Gramps and Gran died when I turned seventeen. There
was no one else to take us and we all three ended up in foster care. I only had
one year left, but my brothers were only seven. I vowed when I turned eighteen
to fight the courts and gain full custody. I knew I could take care of them
better than foster care. I was only in that hellhole for a year, and I didn’t
want them to be in the system for the next eleven years.”

She has turned her body to face mine, and through the small
streak of moonlight descending through the window, I see her slender arm lying
on top of her stomach. I long to touch her, but I don’t. She motions for me to
continue.

“A year later, I approached the system to inform them of my
adoption plans. It was then I was told that my brother’s foster family wanted
to adopt them. I was ecstatic. I really was. My brothers would finally have a
home life and probably have more than I could provide them with.

“I asked one simple question that changed my world forever.
I asked for the name of the foster family. I thought surely I would be part of
my brother’s lives. But the truth was that the foster family had heard about my
‘reputation.’ They heard about my violence and decided to keep the adoption
documents sealed. I wouldn’t be allowed to know their new last name or their
location.”

I don’t say anything for a while, letting the memories of
that day wash over me. I run my hand down my face and release the breath in my
aching chest. “And so, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I got a
lawyer from the state to represent me. He was terrible, and I was up against
this big time lawyer. I was fighting the adoption and everything, trying to
bring our family back together, but the big wig lawyer was too tough for me. My
lame excuse for a lawyer couldn’t do anything right. I was known for my
terrible temper and fits of rage. This big shot lawyer brought all that to the
attention of the judge. Showed how I had been expelled for fighting and all the
strikes I had against me. My lame lawyer and I were no match for this man.

“He brought all of my dirt to the light and in the end, and
I lost control. I went on a rampage through the courtroom, overturning tables
and chairs. The judge had enough and sentenced me to thirty days in jail. The
courts agreed to keep the documents sealed, insuring I wouldn’t be able to find
my brothers or locate the adoptive family. They said they did this for
everyone’s safety. I have no idea where they are or where they live. They have
a different last name and I don’t know where to start looking. They are
seventeen now. When I lost them, I lost everything.”

I finish, and there’s definitely silence between us, the
only sound the rising and falling of our chests.

“Is that a picture of your family on your night stand?”

“Yeah. It’s from a long time ago,” I answer, and I’m
surprised she even noticed the photo. “I know you think I’m a bad guy, Claire,
but a good side of me does exist. I would have taken care of my brothers. I
wouldn’t have let anything happen to them. I would have never gotten into this
business if I had known I had them looking up to me. But once I lost them, I
lost all hope.” I feel exhausted all of a sudden and Claire has yet to speak.
Suddenly, she props the good side of her face up with her hand so she’s facing
me. The thin strip of moonlight illuminates her slender body from her head to
her toes.