Crazy for You Read online

  “Okay, I will. Bye, Mama.” Charlotte pretended to end the call.

  “You’re looking a bit clammy.” The agent’s forehead scrunched. “You sure you’re okay? I can go get Jake.”

  “Y-you would do that?” Charlotte couldn’t tell if the woman was genuine. She didn’t know what to believe.

  The restroom door banging open made Charlotte jump. A man dressed in all black and a ski mask stormed in. Terror possessed her body, and Charlotte backpedaled until she hit a wall.

  “Charlotte the Harlot.” Gina smiled. “Now you’re mine.”

  “You!” Charlotte clutched her stomach. A drum roll kicked in her belly. Be strong for Bean. Straightening her spine, she grabbed her fear by the throat and tossed it away. “You won’t get away with this. Jake and the rest of the pitching team and staff saw you leave with me.”

  “Oh, I will get away with this. I’ll be a hero. You see, Mr. Man here is going to kidnap and kill you. I . . . ” She slapped her own face. “Will be the one who tried to save you from the madman, getting hurt in the process.”

  The madman himself stepped toward her. “Whatever she’s paying, I can double it.” Charlotte licked her lips. “Don’t do this. Please. I—”

  A crash interrupted her pleading. Gina had smashed her head into the mirror. Oh my God, she’s nuts!

  “What are you doing?” Charlotte screamed.

  Blood trickled from the woman’s forehead. She wrung her hands, her eyes wide with fear. “I-I tried so hard to try to save her, Jake. He was just too strong. He overpowered me and . . . I just need someone tonight. Can you hold me?” She clapped her hands and cackled. “Been working on that for a while. You like?” Gina laughed and then shrugged when Charlotte didn’t answer.

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone and so will your bastard.” Pointing to Charlotte’s stomach, she turned to the masked man. “Get her out of here.” She jerked her bloodied head toward Charlotte. “You know what to do.”

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white cloth. Panic crawled up her throat. They’re going to drug me. I can’t let him drug me.

  “No!” She screamed and pushed him away when he tried to put the cloth over her mouth. “Help! Somebody help me!” Her phone clattered to the floor in the struggle.

  “Quiet!” the man’s deep voice ordered.

  “P-please. I’ll be quiet. Just don’t drug me. The baby.”

  “Get her out of here, Lorenzo.”

  When he tried to put the cloth over her mouth, Charlotte averted her face in the nick of time and pushed at his mask.

  She gasped when she recognized his face. Those once-warm brown eyes were cold now. “L-larry? How? Why? I thought you were my friend.”

  “Dammit, Lorenzo!”

  He shoved the cloth over her nose and mouth. Her eyes fluttered, and her head swam.

  Larry’s brown eyes filled her vision. She could’ve sworn she heard him whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jake glanced at the empty seats in the stands. Something is not right. They still hadn’t returned after twenty minutes.

  A phone rang in the dugout. A generic jingle. He couldn’t tell if it was his or one of the other guys’.

  “What did I say about turning cell phones off during practice?” Coach marched toward it and then grabbed the offending device from the seat. “Someone tell,” he glanced at the screen, “Melanie Richards that now isn’t a good time. Hell, I’ll tell her.” He tapped the screen.

  Jake ran from the diamond. “Coach—”

  “Melanie Richards? This better be life or death because— Shit, okay. Calm down woman. Ross!”

  Jake had already reached the dugout and snatched his phone away. “What is it, Mel?”

  “Charlotte’s in danger. And Gina is the stalker. They’re in the restroom, and some guy named Lorenzo or Larry or something just drugged her. Charlotte knew who he was. Gina hit herself and plans to pretend that she was attacked. I’ve called 9-1-1 and the medics.”

  Jake’s blood ran cold. He dropped his phone, and coach grabbed his shoulder. “What is it, Ross?”

  “My girl’s in trouble. I gotta go!” He tried to rush past, but his coach grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “Practice is over!” Coach yelled to the team. “I’m going with you, Ross.”

  “Me too,” his teammates echoed.

  No time to waste. He ran for the stands and then straight to the bathroom.

  Fuck, which one is it? He eyed the signs and chose one that pointed right.

  Rushing through the door, he found Gina curled up into a ball on the floor. His cooled blood heated to a hundred degrees. Players trickled in and rushed to help her stand. His friend Collins wet a paper towel and gently pressed it against her forehead.

  “Where is she?” Jake roared.

  She shivered in the corner.

  “Calm down, Ross. Can’t you see she’s in shock?” Collins dabbed at the blood trickling from her head.

  “She’s the stalker.” Jake marched toward her, shaking with rage. “It’s all recorded. Melanie was on the phone with Charlotte. She heard everything.”

  Collins stepped away, dropping the bloodied napkin to the floor. “Guys, let’s search around the stadium. Lopez, call security.”

  A few teammates filed out. Sirens filled the air.

  Tears welled in Gina’s eyes. “Jake, it’s not what you think. I-I love you. From the moment I first saw you I knew you’d be mine, and I—”

  “I do not need your shit right now. Where. Is. She!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook. “Where is Charlotte?”

  Coach pulled him back. “Don’t, Jake. You’re better than this.”

  “Police!” Two uniformed cops and the detective Jake had been working with rushed into the bathroom. They immediately turned their attention to Gina.

  “We heard the recording,” Detective Wen addressed the shaking woman as the police officers cuffed her hands behind the back. “Ma’am, you’re under arrest.”

  Her eyes narrowed, defiant and dangerous. “You’ll never find her, and I’ll never tell. She and that bastard won’t survive the night.” Her smile was slow and dangerous. “If I can’t have you—”

  “You have the right to remain silent,” the detective interrupted her rant. While he recited the Miranda Rights, another officer cuffed Gina and steered her out of the bathroom.

  “Ross.” The detective’s eyes softened with pity. “Our team will be looking at the stadium’s security tapes. We’ll get him.”

  Jake dropped to his knees, despair and pain filling his chest like a balloon ready to pop. I couldn’t keep her safe. I’ve failed her. Failed my family.

  • • •

  She was drowning. That was the only explanation for the whooshing in her ears and the blurred vision. Opening her mouth, she forced air into her lungs as she struggled to breathe. Struggled to survive. Jake. Practice. Gina.

  No, she wasn’t drowning. I was drugged. She couldn’t move and battled to fight off the sluggish haze warping her movements and her mind. Both her hands and feet had been bound together with sticky tape that cut deep into her skin. The van jumped over a pothole, and the rocking motion shifted a pillow cradling her stomach. Licking her dry lips and clearing her parched throat, she tried to speak.

  “Larry . . . ” Her voice was but a whispered croak. She tried again. “Larry. Please don’t do this.”

  “She gets what she wants,” he muttered. “She always gets what she wants. I’m sorry.”

  He sounded sorry, but that wasn’t enough. This was life or death. The van jumped again, and this time her body rolled over the lumpy pillow. A pillow! Deep down he must care.

  She tried again. “Whatever she has over you, we can fix this. She’s probably already been arrested. My friend had a hunch Gina was the stalker and called the police. I was talking to her in the bathroom and—”

  The van stopped moving, and she stopped bargaining. This is it. Her bloo
d pressure skyrocketed. Black dots, large and translucent, filled her vision. This was where she would die. She touched her stomach, and Bean moved.

  We can’t die. She counted her erratic breaths until the black dots disappeared.

  When the door opened, a flood of light poured in. “Up, Charlotte.”

  She rolled over and sat, her legs straight in front of her and hands behind her back. Something pressed against her bottom. The pepper spray! She’d put it in her back pocket after Jake had pressed it into her hand and given her another rundown on how to use it.

  Single hand . . . turn the tab . . . spray into the air.

  Goosebumps formed along her forearm as she scooted out of the van. Puffs of short, rapid breaths revealed her fear. Rich and earthy smells assaulted her nose, and the rush of the river behind them matched the rush of blood in her veins—cold and deadly. Larry, no Lorenzo, pulled her along the worn path, facing her away from the river.

  “Larry, I know I can’t convince you not to . . . kill me, but can I have one last request?”

  He nodded, but kept his eyes averted.

  “Unbind my hands.” When he looked up, eyes wide with disbelief, she shrugged. “I can’t overpower you anyway, we both know that. I just want to . . . I want to touch Bean one last time. I don’t want him to feel alone. I-I don’t want to be alone.”

  He dipped his chin. “Just your hands.

  A small victory. She nodded. I can do this. I have to save Bean. Save myself. Save Jake. He wouldn’t survive if they didn’t. Three fates were tied together.

  She flinched when Larry flicked open a Swiss Army Knife. The blade moved closer, but instead of sinking into her flesh, he quickly cut through the gray masking tape. Charlotte rotated her wrists, flexed her fingers, and steadied her nerves. No room for error. He took three slow, measured steps back toward the van before reaching behind his back.

  She widened her eyes. “Watch out!” She pointed into the distance, and Larry turned his head.

  With the speed of a gunslinger, she yanked the pepper spray from her back pocket, slid the tab, and sprayed.

  “Ahhh, dammit!” Larry stumbled, cupping his eyes, and the gun tumbled from his meaty hands. Feet still bound, she hopped three steps, grabbed the gun, and flicked off the safety.

  “Larry.” Calm, despite her frantic heartbeat, she focused. “Your gun is now pointed at your head and, trust me, I know how to use it.”

  He swung his arms wildly, nearly clipping her in the process. Firing, she shot his right foot.

  “Shit! You shot me!”

  “You were going to kill my baby and me. I have no sympathy for you. Now, toss your knife, keys, and phone on the ground. To your left.”

  Tears poured down his cheeks. No mercy. The man could be put under the jail for all she cared.

  Grimacing in pain, he rubbed his eyes and then tossed his phone and knife.

  “Keys?”

  “In the van.”

  Gripping the pepper spray, she pressed the tab again.

  “Ahh! Why’d ya do that?” He dropped to his knees and writhed on the ground. A gunshot to the foot and pepper spray to the eyes could not be a pleasant combination.

  She hopped to retrieve the knife. Bending over, she used it to saw at the tape with one hand while pointing the gun with the other. Precious seconds later, she was free.

  Grabbing the phone, she ran to the rusted white van and threw open the door. She slammed the door shut, pressed down the driver door locks, and then reached over to the passenger’s side to do the same. Safe and secure, she then checked the ignition and nearly cried when she saw the keys. Thank God he was telling the truth.

  Twisting the ignition, she revved the engine and drove to freedom. Despite the danger, she smiled, proud of herself. “I did it, Bean. We’re going to be okay.”

  A blaring siren from an ambulance interrupted her self-congratulatory thoughts. She pulled over and clicked the blinkers. A half a dozen police cars sped past her. Are they looking for me? She leaned on her horn to grab someone’s attention. A lone police car slowed and pulled up behind her.

  A short female with red hair and a tall black officer stepped out the vehicle. She wanted to jump and wave, but was afraid of startling them. The male officer approached the driver’s side.

  “I’m Charlotte Jones. I was kidnapped but managed to escape.”

  The officer smiled. “We’ve been looking for you, Ms. Jones. Glad you’re okay. Sheila, call it in.”

  • • •

  Here they were. At the hospital. Again. Charlotte sighed as the nurse took her vitals. “I keep telling you I’m fine.”

  A strong hand squeezed hers. “Let them do their jobs, angel. We have to be sure you and Bean are okay.”

  Jake’s plea and red-rimmed eyes silenced her protest. “I’m sorry. I’m just want to go home.”

  “I’m so sorry for introducing that psycho into your life. I practically handed you over on a silver platter.”

  “Stop it.” She shook her head. “You aren’t to blame.”

  “But—”

  “Bean and I are alive. Don’t trouble yourself with anything else.”

  He smiled, but the gesture was strained and tired, like his eyes.

  “All done,” her cheery nurse interrupted. “You’re very lucky, Ms. Jones. You and the baby are doing well. Your blood pressure is stable, and the baby’s heartbeat is strong. The discharge nurse will be here soon. You’re good to go.”

  Charlotte wasn’t lucky. She was blessed. The only explanation she was willing to accept. By the grace of God, she’d remained calm and thought quickly. She’d swallowed her sweet nature and had gone full-on Mama Bear.

  She smiled at the nurse and then returned her attention to Jake. “Let’s go home.”

  • • •

  Two weeks since the abduction, and Jake still had nightmares. Charlotte, however, slept like the baby she was carrying, snoring lightly in his arms. Her feet, like always, were cold. But the rest of her was warm. Alive.

  Eighty-seven minutes . . . that’s how long it had taken the police to find her. Gina hadn’t cracked, but Melanie filled in the blanks.

  She’d heard the name Larry, which Jake recognized. After connecting the dots, they realized he worked for the security company Jake hired based on Gina’s recommendation. They’d tracked Lorenzo—aka Larry, Gina’s half-brother—by his phone, which the police had later found in the getaway van’s glove compartment. Luckily, his angel had escaped by then. So smart and brave. And soon, she would be the mother of his child and, if she was still willing, his wife. He itched to place the ring, nestled in the closet safe, on her finger.

  The Yankees had given him a few weeks off to get his personal affairs in order, and he’d spent every single moment with Charlotte. Not only because he was anxious after the kidnapping, but because he enjoyed her company. Enjoyed relaxing and lazing around at his condo. But now time was up, and tomorrow, he had to go to training.

  He squeezed her tighter, kissing the back of her neck.

  She wiggled and mumbled. “What time is it?”

  He glanced at the clock on his stand. “Six.” Too early for his surprise.

  “Oh.” Her stomach grumbled. “Too early for breakfast?”

  He grinned against her neck. “It’s never too early, baby. What do you want?”

  “That low-fat berry cobbler you made?”

  “Cobbler it is. Let me go warm it up.”

  “I’ll come with you. I need to stretch my legs.”

  Getting out of bed, Jake walked toward the kitchen while Charlotte wobbled to the living room.

  “My feet are cold.”

  “Where are your socks?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “The bedroom. I’ll grab them. Can we watch some TV?”

  The woman could get him to do anything, including dancing in the middle of Times Square butt-naked.

  “Of course, angel.”

  He plated the cobbler and turned on the living roo
m light.

  Charlotte squinted. “It’s a little bright.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t see.” His hands shook slightly as he placed the dessert and fork in front of her. He then rushed back to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk.

  “So I was going to wait to show you, but I found a new comic book. It’s a mixture between Wonder Woman and The Invincible Iron Man with Riri.” Charlotte had been excited when Marvel had announced the new Iron Man would be a young black woman.

  “Ohhh! Who is the creator?”

  “Can’t remember.” Jake shrugged. “I’ll go get it.”

  Running into the bedroom, Jake opened the door to his safe before returning to the living room with the pristine comic covered in plastic, and dropping it next to his angel.

  “Ohh, fancy. I can smell the newness.” Putting her plate down, she reached for the book. “Gimme!”

  “The Angel Jones Chronicles. Volume I.”

  “Oh, liking the connection already.” She turned the page. The first scene was a young, curvy female surrounded by kids in a dance studio.

  She looked up, wonderment shinning in her brown eyes. “Is this . . . is this me?”

  “You tell me.” He smiled. “Keep reading.”

  “This is the story of Angel Jones. By day, she melts the hearts of kids and parents alike at a nonprofit and teaches the community to dance. But don’t let her breathtaking looks and warm heart fool you. Agent Angel Jones is one smart, courageous, and dangerous woman.”

  She turned the pages and smiled and laughed and cried. “I’m liking the love interest, Jax Ross.” With a snort, Charlotte flipped more pages. “Nice. I’m telepathic, a healer, and I can control the elements. I am so kick-ass! I can’t believe you remembered!” she yelled, referencing their earlier conversation about superpowers.

  “You can do one more thing, too.”

  She turned the page. “I can fly!” She pumped her fist in the air.

  “Of course you can. All angels can fly.”

  “And these are cool-looking wings. What are they made of?”

  “Vibranium.”

  “Nice. From Wakanda? Like the Black Panther?”

  “Only the best for you, baby.”

  She laughed as she turned the last page, then her smile dropped, and tears filled her eyes. Lifting the comic, she pointed to Jax Ross down on bended knee with a ring in hand. “Do you mean it?”