Page 5 of The Fix

Cami worked to catch her breath through her nostrils, the intensity of her fear making her woozy.

Her mom widened her tear-filled eyes, nodding in silent encouragement as she watched her eldest daughter attempt to calm herself.

Dad. Where’s Dad? He wasn’t home yet, but he should be soon.

Would they surprise him like they’d done to her?

He’d be able to fight them, though. He was stronger.

Did they have weapons? She had thought she’d felt a weapon in the man’s waistband as he’d carried her from the mudroom up the stairs, but in her panicked state, she couldn’t be sure.

Her thoughts burst in every direction, firing so quickly she could barely hold on to any of them.

Elle’s shoulders shook with soundless sobs, and that was the sight that allowed Cami to get hold of her hysteria.

She held eyes with Elle as she drew a breath through her nose that made it past her throat, expanding her diaphragm and slowing her heart rate infinitesimally.

But it was enough to build on, and over the next thirty seconds as she locked eyes with her little sister, the two kidnappers’ voices a low drone as they conversed somewhere down the hall, she calmed down enough that her thoughts became coherent.

Cami drew herself up and then scooted closer to her mom and sister.

The three of them gathered, hugging in the only way they could, laying heads on each other’s shoulders and rubbing cheeks.

She could smell her mom’s scent under the sharp tang of sweat and terror.

She took comfort in it because it was all that she had. A link to safety. To normalcy.

When they moved apart, she stared at her mom, hoping she could read in her eyes what Cami was trying to convey: We’re going to be okay. We will survive this. Any other outcome was inconceivable.

They all tensed as the sound of footsteps approached the primary bedroom where they were, and the man who’d first surprised her in the mudroom returned.

He had a gun by his side, confirming that he had a weapon.

“Mr. Cortlandt should be here soon, and so we’re going to have to make sure none of you do something stupid that we’d all regret. ”

She heard the sounds of her mother’s and sister’s muffled cries again and glanced at them quickly to see their shoulders shaking as he approached.

Cami focused her eyes back on the man, committing what she could see of him to memory.

About six feet, wavy brown hair that was short on the sides and longer on the top, combed into place with gel, a sharp nose and hollow cheeks.

He was wearing jeans and blue tennis shoes that looked straight from a store shelf and a green polo shirt with the creases where it’d been folded still sharp and obvious.

If she had to guess, she’d say he’d just bought the outfit today.

There was a scar through the end of his right eyebrow, and he had a mole just beneath his left ear.

I can’t wait to describe you to the police, asshole. The mask can only hide so much. And you aren’t even wearing it over your nose.

“You,” he said, pointing to Elle. “Get up and come with me.”

Elle turned her head into their mom and hid her face as she cried. Their mom made sounds of protest as she appealed to the armed man. But Cami could tell by his face that he was both enjoying their begging and becoming impatient from it. “Get up!” he yelled, startling all three of them.

Cami jumped up, holding her bound hands out to him, asking that he take her instead.

“Sit your ass down,” he said, waving the gun toward her and causing her to take a step back. “I’m not going to hurt your sister. We just need to separate you. Now up,” he yelled, using the weapon to gesture to Elle.

Their mother, tears streaming down her face, rubbed her cheek over Elle’s hair and gave her a small bump with her shoulder, telling her with her gestures to go with him. Comply. As if she had a choice. As if any of them did.

Elle raised her head and then stood shakily, walking toward the man with the gun.

“Attagirl. You show me where your room is, sweet thing.”

Cami’s heart continued to pound like a bass drum, the sound of blood whooshing in her ears and clouding her thoughts. Calm. Calm. You have to stay calm if you’re going to survive this. Their dad was on his way home. Even now, he might be turning the corner into their neighborhood.

And these men knew. How, though? How did they know? Had they staked out their family beforehand? Had they watched them come and go? Made note of their schedules?

Oh, Daddy. Please God, let him sense something is wrong. Don’t let these men ambush him.

“AJ?” she heard the man call from the hall where he’d just walked Elle. “Come on up here and tie this little one up.”

“Hold on, Trig,” she heard from below. “I just found a safe down here in the office.”

“Forget the safe for now. We’ll get the code. We only have twenty minutes to get these women secured. Bring the second roll of tape up here.”

She heard the sound of the man named AJ’s footsteps on the stairs and then he and the man named Trig murmured a few words to each other and then Trig came back in the room. “You,” he said, jerking his head toward Cami, “come on now.”

Cami met her mother’s terrified eyes, and she gave her another small nod and then raised her shoulders high as she pulled in a breath through her nostrils and let it out slowly. Breathe, Mom. Hyperventilating will not help us.

Cami stood and Trig trailed her out of the room, leaving enough distance that he could shoot her if she tried to turn and attack him. “Go on in your room,” he said, and she did, leading him down the hall to her bedroom.

The sight of it made her want to weep again. Her safe space. The room where she’d slept all her life. The place she came to dream and dance and cry cleansing tears. The bed where her mom and dad had tucked her in when she was a child, and the walls that her mom had lovingly wallpapered ...

How dare he be here? The anger suffocated the desire to cry, and she was grateful because the anger renewed her strength.

Brown whiskers with a sprinkling of red mixed in.

A round chicken pox scar at his hairline, small and only noticeable in certain lights, like right now, when the sunshine from the window is hitting his face.

“Lie down,” he commanded, waving the gun toward her bed.

Her eyes darted there and then to him, fear scalding her nerve endings.

He smiled, and though she couldn’t see his mouth, she could tell it was slow and leering.

But then he shook his head. “We’re not here for that,” he said, and something inside told her he was lying, but what could she do?

She had no options other than to let him shoot her.

She sat down on her bed, her emotions in free fall again. She wanted to dive beneath the blankets, like she did when she was little whenever a monster showed up in the corner. It would always be gone when she emerged, transformed into a coatrack or vanished like a shadow.

But even in her hyperemotional state, she was too rational to believe this monster would disappear so easily, if at all.

Cami lay back, and he made quick work of securing her wrists to the bedposts with multiple layers of duct tape. He didn’t bind her feet, but he kept the tape stretched over her mouth and pressed down tightly to her cheeks.

She pulled in a breath, and then another.

He left the room, and Cami listened as he helped AJ secure Elle and then presumably their mother, though the only clues she had to go by were the soft bangs and bumps and the squeak of bedsprings from down the hall as both women were tied up to their own beds just like she had been.

The men clomped back down the stairs, and a few minutes later, she heard her dad’s car pull up in the driveway.