Resist
I let go and looked at her.
“He’s going to be ok, Mom. We all are.”
“I know. I know. Call me when you land in D.C.?”
“I will.?
? I took my suitcase through the garage entrance.
Thirty minutes later I was in the New Bern airport, waiting in the terminal for my flight home. I left Vaughn a message, explaining that I had found Garrett and was headed back to D.C. I prayed his business trip was over and we could spend the night together. If there was one thing I needed more than anything else in this world after the past two days, it was him.
I tucked the phone in my bag and watched the passengers gather in the picked and worn seats around me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Uber deposited me on the sidewalk. The driver popped the trunk and I walked to the rear of the car for my bag. My phone buzzed at the same time I dug in my purse for my keys.
I read the text from my father.
Did you make it back?
Just got here
Glad, kiddo. See you in a few weeks.
He was referring to Thanksgiving. It wasn’t much. But it was something. A crumb. A morsel that showed he cared. He was thinking about me now and making plans for the holidays. It was more than I’d had from him before.
I tugged on my suitcase as I reached the top floor of the brownstone. I exhaled. Home.
A place I had made a sanctuary. It wasn’t only an escape from the memories of New Bern, it was a haven for my future. For everything that was ahead of me.
I slipped the key in the lock and realized it was already open. I pushed the door, kicking it out of the way for my bags. I was starving. I thought I might have a box of pasta in the cabinet. At least some rice I could cook.
“Greer?”
She rose from the sofa slowly. Her face stained with tears.
I looked on either side of her. She was surrounded by men in suits. Tall men. Serious men.
“Elliot,” she whispered, choking back a sob.
“What’s going on?”
I tried to piece things together, but they quickly spun out of control. I couldn’t grasp it. I couldn’t assemble the fragments fast enough. I could sense her pain and fear. I tried to reach for her. I couldn’t find her. They shuffled me to the right and left. The black suits flanked me.
“Just stop. Stop,” I pleaded.
One of the men grasped my elbow, pulling my arm to my back before taking the other one. I heard the clicking sound of metal. Did he have handcuffs?
“Elliot Charles, you are under arrest for conspiring to commit theft against U.S. property. We will present you with a full list of charges at the Bureau.”
“Charges? Theft?” I squealed. “Greer, what’s happening?” My head spun to my friend.
She cried. “I-I can’t help you. You helped him.”
“What?”
The men urged me to the door. “What is going on?” I tried to dig my heels into the floor, but they were strong.