Chapter 31
“Hey Blondie, keep those blues open,” Brody snapped,
slapping Nick’s cheek leaving a hand print.
Brian tried to move in protest but Kenyon restricted him.
“Hey, hey, wake up!” Brody was still yelling at Nick,
“Why’s he making so much noise?”
“He’s not getting in enough air,” Brian answered him
sharply.
“Shut up!” Kenyon thumped Brian’s arm, “Where’s
Brendon. He’s supposed to tell us what’s next.”
Ariella appeared in the kitchen suddenly, not wearing
her mask or cat suit, she gasped as she caught sight of the two men she helped
kidnap in the light. The smaller one was pale and thin with dark bags under his
eyes. His hair was unruly and greasy,
his face was smeared with dirt and grime.
The only alive thing about him was his bright blue eyes as they looked
up and studied her, “Ariella?”
How did he know?
Both Brody and Kenyon jerked toward her in surprise,
“Ari... You idiot! He saw your face!”
Ariella began to shiver, Brendon would kill her! She
had messed up again! How could she have forgotten that they were going to bring
the boys up? She quickly dashed from
the kitchen in a panic.
“What happened to her?” Brian asked softly, “Did that
other guy hurt her badly?”
Brody snorted, “That’s none of your business pansy
boy. Damn this kid is scaring me with this noise he’s making! Where is
Brendon?”
“Right here,” Brendon slunk into the kitchen
adjusting his face mask, “They have arrived gentlemen. Get the cargo ready.”
Brody grinned and lifted Nick’s somewhat wiry frame
awkwardly, Kenyon followed behind him holding Brian tightly. He pressed a gun
firmly to Brian’s temples. The phone
rang, after 2 rings Brendon answered it calmly. He smiled, “That’s exactly what I want to hear. Send him to the
front door alone. The exchange will be
made fairly, the money for the boy.”
“Nicky, you’re getting out,” Brian was trying to tell
his friend who was semi-conscious at this point.
“QUIET!” Brendon ordered. He paused at the window.
He saw a tall blond man approaching the door warily ever so often gazing
behind him. The closer he got to the
door the further away he was from Brendon’s line of sight, “Ok, open the door
and take the money, then the boy.”
Bob stood in front of the door almost
hyperventilating. He knocked
softly. The door swung open and a man
dressed all in black stood in front of him. He held out his arms for the money.
Bob shook his head furiously, “My son, where’s my
son?”
“Give me the damn money or I’ll make short work of
your son!” the man in black hissed in a low menacing voice.
Bob shook with rage and fear, he quickly handed over
the suitcase, and almost screamed as the door was slammed in his face, “Damn
it! We had a deal! We had a....”
The door was opened yet again, and Bob was peering
into his son’s blue eyes. His blond
hair was dingy and stringy, it hung in eyes.
His face was smudged with dirt and tears. Bob felt suspended in time as he gazed at his beautiful
firstborn, then he was roughly shaken from his place in time as Nick was shoved
into his arms. He cried out as Nick
almost immediately collapsed in his arms.
Bob supported his son’s dead weight, which was not much anymore. He had
been ill earlier which had led to some weight loss, but this... what had they
done to him? Bob felt the tension
building in his ears as he heard the clicking of guns from behind him. The FBI stood ready. Bob looked up from his
son’s dirty blond head to gaze into the frightened but relieved eyes of Brian
Littrell. Brian didn’t look much better
than Nick. A gun was held to Brian’s
head, and his body shook, but he managed to smile at Bob. He smiled, and then the door was slammed
closed, again. Bob could do nothing but
kneel there, and hold his son... His son.
He gazed down at Nick for the first time noticing how pale he was, and
the slight blue tinge to his face. That
was when he realized Nick’s breathing was making a very loud whistling noise,
“Oh God. Ok, ok, hold on Nicky. I got ya now.”
Bob arranged Nick’s long arms and legs in a position so that he could
lift him, something he hadn’t been able to do for a long time, but he could
now. He blinked at the flashes of
cameras and winced at the screaming of hundreds of little voices. He carried
Nick past the yellow tape where the paramedics took proximate action. Bob ran beside them as they loaded Nick on a
stretcher and wheeled him towards the ambulance. Jane was there, accompanied by Denise McLean. She was
crying. She gripped Nick’s hands as he
went by and ran with the stretcher. She
and Bob met eyes. Their son was back
with them, where he belonged. Jane
smiled at Bob, before she climbed into the back of the ambulance with a
paramedic’s assistance. She watched as
they secured an oxygen mask over Nick’s mouth and nose. “Jane, I’ll meet you at the hospital! I’ll
get the kids!”
Jane nodded, and blew Bob a kiss goodbye. She turned her attention back to her child,
her firstborn, and began to run her fingers through his greasy unwashed hair.
She didn’t care, he was back with her.
She watched as the paramedics took Nick’s vitals and temperature. She flinched as they injected him with
something. She of course asked what it
was and they told her “epinephrine.” She gazed at her son’s face. She did not like its pallor, nor the dark
bags under his eyes. She gazed at how
thin his body had gotten. “What the
hell did they do to my kid?” she asked aloud, of course receiving no answer,
only curious stares. She sighed and
gripped her son’s hand again, squeezing it and massaging the back of it,
“You’re gonna be ok honey, Momma’s here now.”
She smiled as she felt a small pressure being sent
back through her hand. Nick’s fingers
curled themselves around her hand. She
looked to see his baby blues opened and concentrating on her. “Hey baby.”
He smiled slightly, and closed his eyes again. Jane
touched the side of his face gently and sighed, she had her son back... but how
long would it be before the others had their sons back too?