“It’s ok Unc. I got it. It says our ancestor was Thyra. She was the Queen of Denmark married to King Gorm the Old. She was responsible for the creation of the defensive system in Jutland. She was said to be wise and kind to be so young.” Sounds like my Kensie.
“Thanks, Torran. Sorry your uncle is so useless.” I shake my head holding it down. My dyslexia has always been the part of me I couldn’t quite place in a box and not let it overtake my self-esteem.
“Stop saying that Unc. Nobody feels that way.” I chuckle. I always find it humorous that though technically I am his uncle, he is five years older than me, but he insists on calling me Unc., though I have told him it’s not necessary.
“I know. I can’t help but feel like maybe Kensie has it right. Maybe she should have run from a man that isn’t man enough to be able to read a simple card. Fucking loser.” I mumble to myself as I gather my stuff to leave.
“For fuck sake Tori. Cut that shit out. You are no less a man than the rest of us. And any woman worthy of you will know that.”
“Thanks man. Listen, thank you for the ring. I need to go. Love you Tor.”
“We all love you too Unc.”
I walk out of the shop and drive home, as I am getting out of the car, I call her once again. Expecting to hear the voicemail again, I almost yell a hallelujah until I hear another guys voice on her phone.
“Hello.” The fuck!
“Who the fuck is this and why are you answering my woman’s phone?” If he doesn’t answer me right, he is a dead motherfucker.
“I found this phone along with a purse and some keys in the bushes.” Fuck no!
“I’m sorry …what?”
“Yes. The purse belongs to a Kensington Lyons.” My heart falls. Air leaves my lungs in a huff and doesn’t return as everything around me begins to spin and blur. They got her. I fall to the ground not sure what is going on around me at the moment. How did I let this happen? I let her get in her car and walk away, knowing there was danger. I fucking let this happen. My woman and my baby are out there somewhere and fuck if I know what to do. I haven’t cried since I was a boy, but I can feel it building. I pull out my phone, barely breathing and dial my brother.
“Hagen, I need you. They took Kensie.” I say, my voice broken and cracked.
“The fuck!!! Who took her Tori? Where did they take her?” Hanging my head, I answer him the only way I can.
“I don’t fucking know.” I have to find them.
Both of them.
Chapter 10
Kensie
I wake with a start. For several minutes, I can only take in deep gulps of air. My first and only thought is that of my baby. What does chloroform do to fetuses? Though it kills me, I can’t worry about that right now. I have got to get the fuck out of here. I decide then and there I will not be telling these people that I’m pregnant. Who knows what that information will cause them to do? I am not sure how long I have been here, but it is daylight. I am starving and I have to pee so bad. What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this? Admitting defeat, I stand and walk over to the door. I am grateful that I can see. I turn the knob and of course, it’s locked. Moving away from the door, I sit back down on the floor and decide to get this shit started.
“Hello?” I call out. A few minutes later, the door swings open and a woman enters. I frown. A woman?
“Oh look. The little prisoner is awake,” she says with a heavy Boston accent.
“What am I doing here?” I ask.
“Your man took what was ours,” she says simply. I frown again. I have no idea what she is talking about. “I can tell by the look on your face that you don’t know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“I am Bridget O’Connor.” O’Connor. Boston. Everybody knows that name is synonymous with organized crime. It’s all over the news. I school my reaction though.
“I am Kensington Lyons,” I say trying for polite.
“I know who you are just as much as you know who I am. Don’t play dumb with me.”
“Sorry,” I reply automatically.
“My son was killed by your man. He will come for you.”
“No, he won’t,” I lie. “He doesn’t love me.” I choke back a sob, swallowing it down.
“We will see when I send him a little package.”
“What kind of package?” I ask hesitantly.
“Don’t you worry about that.”