Chapter Thirty Nine

“Will you stop fussing? I can do it!” she said exasperated.   Ever since she’d gotten home from the hospital, Sidney had waited on her hand and foot and would not let her do anything.  At first it was sweet.  It was nice to be taken care of some of the time, but this was getting old. 

“How can you do it? Your arm is in a sling. Give it to me,” he ordered, taking the bowl of batter from her good hand.

“I am not an invalid, Sidney Patrick Crosby. I think I can manage to make some pancakes!”

“You can’t stir them and hold the bowl at the same time,” he said laughing at her annoyance.

“I can,” she said stubbornly.  “Besides, that’s why someone invented an electric mixer.”

“Ew.  No, they are better by hand. Stop being so ornery and let me do it.”

“You’re the one who is being stubborn. You won’t let me do anything!”

“Pate, you were shot, for heaven’s sake.  You can let me help out,” he said, smirking as she huffed over to the table and sat down.

She watched him stir the pancake batter and sighed.  She frowned and adjusted the sling on her arm.  The bullet had gone straight through her shoulder. She had been lucky.  It could have been much worse. It was sore. It was hard to sleep as well, but none of that mattered. What mattered was standing right there in front of her stirring her pancakes.  She watched him pour the batter onto the griddle and he glanced and flashed her that brilliant smile.  Her irritation dissolved. 

“I think I want chocolate chips today,” he said.  “Would you get them for me?”

She pulled the jar of chocolate chips from the cabinets and sat them on the counter.  She looked at the jar perplexed. There was something besides chocolate inside.  She pulled the lid off and gasped.

“Sidney?”

She looked into the jar at the sparkling, marquise-cut diamond ring resting on top of the chips.  Her heart jumped in her chest. She turned to him and he got down on one knee. 

“Baby, I love you.  I don’t want to be without you, ever. Will you marry me?”

Her hands were shaking so much, she almost dropped the jar.  He took the jar from her, pulled the ring out and took her left hand.  He started to put the ring on her finger and hesitated.  He looked up at her.

Suddenly, she realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Sidney, yes.”  She dropped to her knees in front of him. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him.  He slid the ring onto her finger and ran his hands up into her hair and kissed her again. 

“I love you, Sidney,” she said, overwhelmed with emotion and held him close.  “But I think the pancakes are burning.”

The End.

Chapter Thirty Eight

“Pate?  Payton?” Sidney held her tightly in his arms. 

“Sidney,” she said in a small voice that was barely a whisper.  He felt something warm and sticky trickle down his hand.  Payton’s large brown eyes rolled back.

“Payton!  Get me an ambulance!” Sidney cried. “She’s been shot! Tony, help me!”

Sidney lay her gently on the sidewalk, calling her name over and over. He didn’t hear the reaction of the police to the shot. He didn’t see the security detail head down the street.  All he knew was that Payton was bleeding all over him.  

“Payton,” he pleaded, brushing the hair back from her forehead.  Her eyes fluttered.  He felt her hand squeeze slightly.  He leaned over her to hear her whisper.

“I love you.”

She was looking up at him while the tears rolled down his cheeks.  She tried to brush them away, but couldn’t lift her hand. He grabbed it and held it to his cheek, kissing her palm.

“You’re going to be okay, Baby. I promise,” he assured her. “I love you, Payton.”

Tony brought the paramedics running to their side.  Sidney sat back and watched them work on his prone girlfriend.  She had lost consciousness again. There was so much blood. 

“Sidney?” Tony tried to get his attention. “Sidney, are you hit?  You’re covered with blood. Is any of it yours?”

It took a minute, but finally Sidney realized that Tony was talking to him.  He looked at the blood on his hands an covering his shirt. “I don’t think… no, not mine.”

The paramedics lifted Payton onto a gurney and rushed her away toward the ambulance.  Sidney followed them and crawled into the ambulance. He held her hand tightly in his.

A shot rang out down the street as they were pulling away. Sidney was so absorbed with Payton, he didn’t think to wonder what it could mean.

Brisson swore at what he witnessed. How the hell did she get away?  She ruined it all.  At first he thought he might have gotten them both, but it seemed she took the bullet for Mr. Perfect.  He dropped the rifle to his side. Everything was ruined. He thought of taking another shot, but a sea of cops were headed in his direction. It was time to go.  He crossed the rooftop to the access door, but when he opened it, he could hear the shuffling of feet and police walkies squawking up the steps.  They got here much faster than he’d expected. They must have already been closing in.  Another mistake.  Pat moved away from the door and searched for something to secure it with.  He found a narrow metal rod, fastened the padlock bracket on the door and slid the narrow piece of metal down through it. It didn’t have to last long, just long enough for him to decide how to proceed. He ran across the roof to the fire escape.  He looked over the edge and four officers in blue were already on their way up. He swore again. He looked across the rooftop. The next building was too far away to jump. They were coming from all sides now.  He was going to have to think of something quick.

Brisson went back to the rifle.  He leveled the sight and peered down the street again. They were loading the girl into the ambulance. There were two technicians along with Tony surrounding her and Mr. Perfect.  There was not a clear shot.  He didn’t have time to miss again.  He could hear the police officers trying to muscle the door open.

“Put the gun down,” called a voice from behind him.  Pat froze, hearing the crushing of multiple footsteps on the rooftop behind him.  There was more than one.  No time left.  “Sir, put the gun down now.”

Pat sighed, “Okay, okay.”  He held the gun in one hand and put the other in the air and began to turn around slowly.

“Sir, do not move. Put the gun on the ground now.”

Pat smiled. In one swift movement, he swung around grabbing the rifle and got ready to fire.

The bullet from the police officer’s gun struck him square in the chest. He barely even registered shock as the power from the bullet forced him backward and he stumbled from the rooftop.

He was dead before he hit the sidewalk below.

Chapter Thirty Seven

It was a quick trip to the rooftop.  It was cold up here, but he didn’t think he’d have to wait long.  If Crosby’s crack security team was worth what they paid them, they would track him down fairly quickly.  It’s not like he tried to hard not to be seen.  How often does someone see an unconscious woman being carried out of a car and into an empty apartment building.  Surely someone would have seen him.  From his favorite spot on the roof, he could see that Crosby had finally called the police.  There were several cars and a flurry of activity at Payton’s studio.  A smile crossed Pat’s face. This was more than fun.  He created all this chaos.  It was quite a rush.  He pulled the rifle up to his jaw, closed one eye and peered through the sight.  He practiced zeroing in on the police officers that were coming in and out of the studio just like he had practiced at the rifle range.  He took a breath and held it to steady his hands. His finger caressed the trigger, but didn’t pull it.  No, the trigger was for someone else. 

He had gotten quite proficient at the rifle range.  At first it was a stress reliever. He went to the range once or twice a month for the last 6 months. It was therapeutic to leave his day out on the range.  After a typically stressful day at the office, making his target pay shot after shot made it easier to go home.  Even though, home now was no more than coming in and going straight to the basement, his haven where the things that were his belonged.  He sat in his old easy chair with his favorite bottle of scotch, while above the wife and family went about their everyday lives like nothing was wrong.  No one ever came down to the basement. The basement was his. They knew better. That lesson was taught long ago, though the wife needed a refresher now and then.  She made him break his tv. That really pissed him off.  Now all he had was the radio and it wasn’t exactly the same.  But the bottle made it better. And the rifle range. Over the last two weeks, his trips range became much more frequent.  He’d spent almost every evening there.  At the range, there was nothing but him, his rifle and the target.

There he was. Pat spotted the target coming out of the studio.  The security guard followed quickly grabbing Crosby by the arm.  Pat’s finger twitched.

Payton forced herself to stay her tears.  She had to get out of here. She had to warn Sidney. She could not lie her and wait for him to die.  She struggled against her bonds, but they wouldn’t give.  She pulled harder at the ropes around her wrists, first her left hand then her right hand over and over.  Her tears had dried on her cheeks, but now the frustration threatened to bring them on again.  She screamed, ripping her wrists away from the metal simultaneously.  The bar on the right popped, but held.  Payton looked up at it. The weld where the bar was connected to the frame seemed broken on one side.  Payton pushed the loops of rope upward so that they were as close to the break as she could manage to get them.  She took a deep breath and jerked her arm as hard as she could.  Nothing. Though, she thought she heard a small pop.  Maybe it was just her imagination, but it was all she had to cling to right now.  She took another breath and jerked again.  The pop was definitely audible now.  Her wrist was really hurting. Struggling against the rope had left red burns around it.  She took another breath for one more effort.  She jerked her arm forward again hard.  The bar popped away from the frame.  Payton’s joy was palpable. She cried out in triumph and began to cry and laugh at the same time.   She wiggled the rope upward, struggling to get it free from the bar.  Finally, her arm was free.  She rolled over to grab the knot that secured her other wrist.  All her struggling against it had made it very tight. She pumped her fist a few times trying to get the blood pumping to her fingers.  Her tenacity paid off after a few minutes as the knot began to come free.  Her hands were free!  Elation began to take over and she rubbed her wrist and quickly began to work on the bonds around her ankles.  She jumped up off the bed and stumbled slightly. She had to find a phone. She had to warn Sidney. She searched the table for her cell. She went to the window and searched the crate.  He must have taken it, she thought and looked out the grimy window.  She gasped slightly.  It was her street.  She could see the studio from here.  She could see the policemen. 

“Oh God,” she said aloud, seeing Sidney come out of the studio door.  She dashed for the door, grabbing the coat that Brisson had left on a hook by the door.  She was thankful for it, though modesty was not the first thing on her mind. 

“Let go, Tony,” yelled Sidney, pulling away from his security guard.

“Sidney, don’t go running off like this. We need a plan, a strategy.  You have to know that he is waiting for you.”

“I don’t care. That bastard has Payton right down the street,” he cried, moving down the sidewalk in front of the studio.  The police had just informed him that they had a witness who had seen a man carrying a woman matching Payton’s description into the apartment building just down the street.  She’d been right here the whole time!

“Come on, man, at least give us a minute to check things out. Let me send Paul down there discreetly. We need to find out what we are dealing with.”

“I’m not going to sit here while he has her down there doing God knows what to her. You can come with me or not, but I am going!”

“Sidney!”

The scream was not loud, but they all heard it. Tony and Sidney both looked down the street.  The policemen stopped what they were doing.  Sidney broke into a run seeing Payton running toward him not even a block away.  He closed the distance between them quickly, but she was still yelling.

“No, go back inside.  He’s got a gun.”

A shot rang out, splitting the air with an explosion of sound. 

Chapter Thirty-six

Sidney hesitated momentarily. He nearly forgot everything he and Tony discussed before the phone call. He just couldn’t believe it.  This man, his friend, was responsible for putting him through hell the past few months. He had abducted Payton. Now he was answering the phone as if it was business as usual. Doubt crept into Sidney’s mind. 

“Hi Pat,” Sidney said slowly. “I… uh… I was wondering if you’d seen Payton. I’m looking for her.”

Sidney was playing as if he didn’t have suspicions, just like Tony had advised.  He was trying to sound calm and unconcerned.  If Pat didn’t know they were on to him, they would have the advantage.

“Oh, sure, I’m looking at her right now,” he said.

Sidney had a hard time keeping his mouth from dropping.

“Can I speak to her?”

“She’s a little tied up right now, Sidney. Can she call you back?”

“Ah, well, it’s kind of important. Can I just speak to her for a minute, please?”

“Well, it might be a little hard to understand her through the duct tape,” he hissed.

Sidney almost dropped the phone.  Icy cold stole up his spine as fear tightened its grip.  Sweat broke out across his brow. In his struggle to keep the fear at bay, he felt the rage well up inside him.

“If you hurt her, you son of a bitch, I will rip you limb from limb with my bare hands,” he yelled into the phone.  Tony stepped closer and attempted to take the phone from him, surprised at the fury coming from his employer.  Sidney shook him off.

“WHERE IS SHE?” he cried.

“Now, now, now, that’s no way for a good Canadian boy to behave. What would your mother say?”  Pat taunted.

“You mother-fucker, what have you done to her?”

“Now Sid, I will not talk to you if you speak to me in that tone,” he said and disconnected the call.

Pat was giggling like a schoolboy when he glanced over at Payton.  He grinned at her and his eyes got wide.

“You’re boyfriend’s a little mad -- such language.”

She watched him laugh and walk over to the filthy window.  He picked up the binoculars and fixed his attention at something down the street. The phone rang again.

Pat looked over at Payton. “Wonder who that is?” he said with a sneer and answered the call.

“Where is she, Pat?” said Sidney, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice.

“Well, I told you, Sidney. She is here,” he laughed, crossing the room to sit down next to her on the bed again.

“I want her back.”

“Well, of course, you do. But that’s not part of the plan.”

After a moment, Sid responded, “What is the plan, Pat?”

Pat looked Payton up and down and licked his lips. Then his eyes rested on hers, “The plan is: you are going to die.” 

Pat watched Payton’s eyes get wide and begin to fill with tears again.  He slid his hand across her skin and cupped her breast, grazing his thumb across her nipple. 

“And then your sweet little morsel and I are going to have some fun.”

Payton could hear Sidney yelling as Pat snapped the phone closed again, disconnecting him.  Pat kneaded her breast a few seconds longer and then sighed.

“We’ll have to continue this later, my dear,” he said getting up and walking to the kitchen.  She whimpered behind her gag unable to control the tears.  You are going to die, he’d said.  She couldn’t get those words out of her head. He was going to kill Sidney.

He rattled around in the kitchen for a few minutes and returned to the living room.  He was carrying a large rifle with him.   He sat back down on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes, rubbing the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t worry, dear. I won’t be gone long.”

Chapter Thirty Five

Payton’s panic was becoming closer to terror as Brisson cut off the last button of her blouse. He slowly opened her the sides of her shirt revealing her creamy lace bra and goose bumps broke out over her torso, not just from the chill in the room.  He grazed the point of the knife across her skin from her belly button to the front clasp of her bra.  Payton squirmed, but he only pushed the blade harder against her skin.

“Hush now, Payton, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” he said laughing as her eyes got wide. “You should really close the curtains when you and Mr. Perfect get it on.”

With this, he slid the knife under her bra and sliced it open.  Payton screamed and tried to raise her knees against him.  Her attempt was unsuccessful.  He leaned in over her and sneered at her.

“Such lovely … skin,” he hissed.  He traced the curve of her left breast with the tip of the knife.  The goose bumps on her skin redoubled in response to the cold blade and the terror that was stealing over her.

“No, please, don’t,” she whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, my dear. I would not damaged such beauty, not yet anyway.  First, we’re gonna have a little … fun.”  He lay the knife by her side and smothered her breasts with both palms, kneading and pinching her nipple hard.  Payton couldn’t stop screaming. The tears streamed down her face as she struggled in vain to get away from him.  Suddenly, he slapped her hard across the face.  She was shocked into silence.

“That’s better, be quiet now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

“You shut up, you son of a bitch! Keep your hands off me,” she cried and took advantage of his proximity to spit in his face.

He slowly wiped the spittle from his cheek. She watched the rage building in face, just before he hit her full force in the mouth and the room began to swim.  As she struggled to keep her senses, he got up from the bed and crossed to the side table. He pulled a roll of duct tape from the drawer.  She shook the fog from her head and tried to scream again. He quickly smothered her mouth with a length of the tape. He tossed the rest of the roll across the room and climbed on top of the bed again.

“That’s really too bad,” he hissed. “Such nasty words should not come out of such a pretty mouth.  A mouth so lovely is for other things, my dear.”

He leaned over her and licked his lips.  Payton raised her head with force and caught him in the mouth.  She dropped her head back down on the bed seeing stars herself.  Brisson cried out and sat back dazed.  He shook his head and raised his hand.  His backhand caught her across the right cheek and she saw only black for a few seconds.  He moved from the bed and went off to the kitchen. Her tears flowed in a steady stream and she her sobs were muffled against the tape. 

“You should not have done that,” he said threateningly.  “I’ve had enough now. No more Mr. Nice Guy.”

He threw the towel he had used to blot the blood from his lip forcefully on the floor and crossed back to the bed.  At that moment, his cell phone rang.  She could see the hesitation on his face.  She could see he was ready to hurt her, but the call was part of the plan. The plan just might save her.

He pulled out his phone, saw the caller ID and smiled wildly at her with eyes wide.  He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, as if she could make a noise if she wanted to.

He pushed the answer button.

“Hello, Sidney.  What can I do for you?”

Chapter Thirty-four

“Hey Pate?” Sidney called, entering the studio.  He stopped short as he saw Brooks lying in the floor. The pup was breathing hard and managed a whimper.  In a second, Sidney was down on his knees beside him, stroking his fur.  He checked his mouth to ensure he hadn’t swallowed anything and felt his chest. 

“Payton!” Sidney yelled.  “Payton, where are you?” 

Panic began to steal over him and he raced his way through the studio calling for her repeatedly.  He quickly dialed Tony on his cell and returned to his pets side. Brooks was doing his best to get to his feet.  Sidney stopped him and made him lie down again. 

“Tony, where is Payton?” Sidney asked the panic leaking into his voice.

“What?  She’s at the studio as of 20 minutes ago.”

“She is not. She is not here,” Sid cried frustrated.

“Let me check with Paul, just a minute.”

Tony was gone from the phone a couple of minutes and Sid could hear a muffled sound on the other end.

“Sidney, Paul said she returned from her appointment approximately 20 minutes ago, unloaded her car and went inside the studio. She has not left since then.”

“Well, she is not here now, Tony!  And my dog is nearly passed out on the floor!”

“What?”

“It’s like he was knocked out or something. He’s just now trying to get up.”

Tony was absent from the phone for a minute again. 

“I’m on my way over, Sidney. Paul is coming from up the street. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Should I call the police, Tony,” Sid asked quietly with trepidation.

“I’ll be there soon. Just wait for me.”

Tony scanned the room quickly and found faint signs of struggle. He checked the back door in the kitchen and found it unlocked. The look on his face confirmed what Sidney already knew. She was gone.

“Okay, let’s go over this again, Paul,” he said to his subordinate.

“She went to her photo shoot with the family of three. She returned here at 15oo hours. She was inside the studio by 1510. She did not leave by way of the front door.  Mr. Crosby’s agent, Mr. Brisson stopped by shortly after she returned--”

“Pat?” Sid asked. “What was he doing here? I was just at his office an hour ago.”

“What?” Tony asked, becoming suspicious. “You just left him? No reason for him to come over here?”

“No, but Pat. That’s ridiculous. Pat would never hurt Payton.”

“Paul, Brisson was the only person to come by?”

“Yes, sir.  But I thought Brisson was a friend. Did I make a mistake?”

“I think we all made a mistake,” Tony reasoned. “I think it’s time to call the police.”

Chapter thirty three

Her head hurt.  She was cold. She was lying on a bed or a couch that was soft, but lumpy.  She tried to put her hand to her head, but she couldn’t move it.  She opened her eyes. The room was dimly lit. She was lying on a small bed with a metal head and foot. Her wrists and, she discovered, her ankles, were tied to it with nylon rope.  She looked around her slowly, struggling with the ropes on her wrist.  The room was small, grey and sparse. There was a small kitchen. It was covered with dust. There was an old wooden chair sitting by a dirty window. There were scuff marks on the ledge, like someone put their feet up there. She struggled to see out of the window, but the dim light and the grim prevented it. Next to the chair was a wooden crate upended with a pair of binoculars resting on it.  She directed her attention to the other side of the room and gasped. He was sitting there watching her. He had his ankle resting on his knee and was toying with a long knife. He had his head down, but his eyes were on her. He looked very menacing and Payton felt the panic well up inside her again.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to wake,” he said quietly. He cocked his head slightly as if waiting for her to respond.

Payton’s head was spinning. Of all the people in the world, she couldn’t understand why he was sitting there opposite her. Why would he want to hurt Sid?  He grinned at her.

“Let me guess, you want to know why? How? Are you really expecting an explanation?” he laughed. He was clearly crazy. She’d never heard anyone laugh that way.  There was no other explanation for why Pat Brisson was sitting opposite her, fingering the point of a long knife with a wild look in his eye.

“But,” she managed to croak. She couldn’t find her voice.

“But what, Payton?” he stood, still playing with the knife. He took a couple of steps and leaned over her on the bed with his arms on either side of her. She was acutely aware of the knife in his right hand only inches from her side.

“You know, it didn’t start out this way,” he snorted and looked away from her almost bashfully. “I was helping him, getting a little press, making some headlines.  Just letting a little information leak out.  He is so damn protective of his privacy. Then he met you and this became so much fun.”

At this, Pat sneered and his eyes grew wide. Payton squirmed and pulled on her tethers.

“No, point in doing that. You’ll hurt yourself,” he said, and looked up and down her body, making Payton’s skin crawl.

“But, he’s your friend,” she cried.

“Ha, no, he’s not. Mr. Perfect doesn’t need friends. Mr. Perfect doesn’t need anything but hockey. Mr. Perfect…” he hissed and paused. “I know him very well, you know.”

Payton stared up at him, still completely confused.

“He has to be the best, you know. I never met anyone so determined to be the best, following the best to learn from them, hounding them about technique. All so he can take their place as the best.  And my wife calls me a parasite.”

He snorted a laugh, “I didn’t realize how much I hated him until you though. Mr. Perfect got himself the perfect girl.”

He raised the knife to her neck. She gasped and squirmed away from him as much as her bonds allowed. He pushed the point of the knife to her skin lightly and traced down her neck and chest and stopped at the button on her blouse. 

“I’d never seen him so happy before. Then the fun began. I made him jump through hoops trying to keep you safe.  It was funny, really. He was willing to anything for you. You were as much a gift for me as you were for him.”

Payton squirmed again, trying to get away from him.  There were tears in her eyes. The fear that crawled up her spine doubled, realizing that Pat was going to be able to hurt Sidney because of her.

“I wonder,” he said using the knife to pop off one of her buttons, “if the perfect girl could make that kind of change in me.”