his back, and I tried to comfort him, stroking the back of his neck. Gradually, his breathing slowed and steadied.
The policeman approached, removing Ethan’s handcuffs, “Son, I’m gonna let you go with a warning this time. But you’d best stay outta trouble.”
“He will,” Cruz volunteered with a big smile, heading back over to Brad.
Ethan threw his arms around me, rocking back and forth in relief. He drew back to look at my face, lifting a shaking hand to smooth my tangled hair.
I tried to speak, but I found myself too moved by what I saw in his eyes.
He pulled me close again, crushing me to his chest. I whimpered involuntarily, the breath completely squeezed out of me, “It’s okay,” I gasped, “I’m fine.”
“I thought you were in there,” he groaned in a low shaken voice, plastering my face with kisses. His lips finally covered mine, latching onto my mouth with a smoldering intensity. The noises of the fire and the men fighting it faded into the background as he kissed me like he wanted to consume me, wrapping himself completely around me as we stood locked together in the cool night air.
He ran his hands up and down my back, twining his fingers in my hair as if to reassure himself that I was solid and not some figment of his imagination. He stopped to pick a twig out of my hair and brush some bits of leaves from the back of my shirt.
“What happened to you?” he asked, pulling back to inspect me more closely, “What happened to your shoes?”
I looked down, “I’m not sure… they drugged me.” I searched my arm for the needle mark in the dim light.
“So Barbara Watson is Brad’s aunt?” he asked angrily, “And Nathan Edwards is his dad?”
I nodded, looking back at the destruction that was once a huge house. There was no way anyone inside could have survived. If Barbara didn’t get out she was dead, and when I remembered her plans for Cruz and Nixie the idea didn’t bother me at all. “Good riddance,” I whispered under my breath.
Cruz came back to us, leading a dazed looking Brad by the hand, “The cops want to talk to us… They want to know what happened.”
Ethan looked at Brad angrily, his arm firmly around my waist.
“We can’t tell them the truth,” I said. “We can’t say why they took us.”
“I don’t get it,” Brad said woodenly, “Why would my aunt do this to you?”
“Why don’t you ask your father?” Ethan said angrily.
Cruz and I exchanged a look.
“Listen to me,” I said, thinking fast, “What did you say when you called the police?”
“I said there was a kidnapping, and begged them to hurry.”
“Did you say who?”
Cruz thought for a second, “No, I just told them the address.”
“OK,” I said calmly, “We were visiting Brad’s house after we went surfing and we saw some bad guys breaking in… there were three of them… maybe coming after his aunt. We ran out and got split up… that’s how you didn’t know where I was… okay?”
“Sounds reasonable,” Cruz said firmly, turning to Brad with a serious look in his eye, “Trust me, they’ll never believe the truth.”
“What truth?” Brad looked sick.
A police officer approached our little group, staring down Ethan with hard eyes,
“I need to make a report,” he announced, “Which one of you called in the kidnapping?”
“That would be me,” Cruz volunteered, raising his hand. He walked off with the policeman, animatedly recounting my newly made-up version of events. I was surprised at how readily Cruz adapted to the need to lie for me, and it made me a little uneasy. However, there was simply no other way, for the real story sounded like something out of a science fiction novel.
When Cruz left I turned to Brad, “I have just one question… How is it that you were the reason I met your aunt in the first place?”
“Oh God,” his voice cracked, and a look of comprehension slowly dawned on his face, “She called me and invited me to the gallery opening. I was flattered… because she hardly ever talks to me. She said that she knew I was always looking for artwork and that she wanted my advice on her campaign.” He looked at me with shocked eyes, “She wanted to meet you!”
I looked at Brad, standing there confused and devastated as his father’s house burned down behind him. My heart went out to him, and I groped for the right words.
“I’m sorry,” was all