Beyond Resistance (The Ransom Series) Read online

  “You had a plan,” he finally manages to say, though he still won’t look at me. “You wanted everyone to think the family would never be back together again.”

  “We wanted the lowest possible chance that there would be interest in the family after you and Cindy were released. We had to reduce the risk.”

  Robert nods his understanding and takes a deep breath, but it doesn’t feel like I’ve explained enough or apologized enough for what he’s gone through.

  “Cindy got word to the wives of your old police force about the breakup,” I continue. “We’re sure they spread the news. Having the prison staff and other prisoners believe it too was the final piece, and that’s where you came in. I’m sorry you bore the brunt of that, but we had to make you believe.”

  A tentative smile breaks out on Robert’s face. “Boy, did I believe. Just when I was about to get my life back, it was all taken away from me that day Cindy visited and told me it was over.”

  It’s hard to hear the effect our plan had on Robert and to know that I played a direct part in making him feel that way. “She was devastated after she visited you. I wasn’t sure she’d ever speak to me again after that.”

  With a genuine laugh, Robert turns to look at me, his face finally forming a complete smile. “That sounds like Cindy.”

  As I see some of the life returning to Robert’s features and demeanor, I feel some of the weight and unease lift from my chest. At this moment, it seems like everything might be okay.

  My focus shifts to the road ahead of us, the seemingly endless desert that paves the way for the rest of our trip to Maine, the path to beginning the rest of our lives. “Let’s get back on the road and get you away from this place.”

  Robert nods his agreement just as I hear his stomach grumble, its sound amplified in the silence between us. He gives me an apologetic look, but my own stomach is on the same page with his.

  “Perhaps a real meal would be in order?” I offer. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Where are they?” Robert asks, his eagerness clearly more tied to getting information about the location of our family rather than anything to do with food.

  “Maine. We’ve been in Maine this whole time.”

  Though Robert seems satisfied with my answer, he still has the look of a million questions all over his face.

  I begin to reach behind me, digging around for the cell phone I know to be on the back seat. “We can call them if you’d like to talk–”

  “No,” Robert abruptly stops me. “Not yet. I can’t.” He shakes his head and looks at me, the pleading look on his face trying to make me understand. “I need to know more first. I need to process this.”

  After my best attempt at a reassuring smile, I abandon the search for the cell phone and focus instead on getting the car on the road. “We can talk over lunch, then.”

  Relief smoothes out Robert’s face as he settles back in his seat. The day has only just begun and he already looks exhausted.

  Whatever it takes, I’ll help him understand.

  6

  Robert has been quiet during lunch, though I can tell he’s deep in thought. He keeps glancing at me then peering around the diner we’re in with this strange look I can’t quite place. It makes me worried that he sees some danger I don’t. It makes me wonder if we should throw money down on the table and get the hell out of here.

  I’ve almost completely finished my sandwich before I can’t take it any longer and whisper across the table, “What is it? Do we need to leave?”

  Robert waves one hand dismissively in front of him and sets down his coffee mug. “Sorry, it’s nothing.” There’s more he wants to say, but he seems reluctant to proceed.

  Setting what’s left of my sandwich down on the plate, I try to relax back against the booth seat to let my appetite come back to finish lunch, but I’m finding it hard to get past Robert’s strange behavior.

  I’m tempted to bring up the subject with him again, but he speaks first. “Your father and I sat in a diner much like this back when we were working together, back when we were looking for your mom when she was taken from both of us.”

  Anxiety pools in my stomach at Robert’s mention of the past, filling whatever space was left of my appetite for lunch.

  Robert fiddles with the coffee mug between his hands, the uneasiness rolling off him seeping into me the longer it takes for him to continue speaking. “Did your parents tell you how they met? Did they explain how this all began?”

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat and find it impossible to look Robert in the eye when I reply, “They’ve always believed in being truthful with me, though they didn’t tell me the full story until I was a teenager.”

  I take a moment to look around the almost empty diner, noting a family of four at a booth near the window on the opposite side. The two kids can’t be more than five and eight years old as they decorate their placemats with bits of their lunch and pictures drawn in crayon. They look young and innocent, untouched by the troubles of the world and the pains of life. I’ve been tainted since the moment I was conceived.

  “When I was much younger, I’d hear my mom crying and sometimes screaming in the middle of the night. At the time my parents explained she was just having nightmares, but when I was old enough to ask why she had them, they started to explain more of my family’s history.” I glance at Robert, gauging just how far I should go into this explanation. His face is stoic, his focus completely on me and seemingly ready to accept more, so I continue. “As a teenager I couldn’t understand why I had to be homeschooled and could almost never leave home. My rebellion against our reclusive way of life got so bad that my parents had no choice but to tell me their whole story.”

  Robert nods solemnly, and it suddenly occurs to me the look on his face is one of pity, but I don’t want his pity. He has suffered just as much as a result of what happened to my parents as all of us have.

  “It was fine,” I quickly say to try to dismiss the regretful look on his face. “It was better they told me everything. It was my wakeup call. If I didn’t know the full details of what they went through and the danger they faced if they were caught, I never would have got my act together.” In this moment of reflection, I’m reminded again why I can never have a normal life. “Ever since that day I’ve dedicated myself to protecting my family and learning how to survive like my parents. They’ve taught me everything they know.”

  Concern and regret lace every line of Robert’s face. “I wish you didn’t have to live this life. I wish they didn’t, either.”

  “We’ve accepted it,” I reply automatically. “It’s the price we pay to remain free, and it’s worth paying. We’ve at least had each other, and now we have you and Cindy.”

  “There’s no one else? What about Jack?”

  I can’t help my visible reaction to Robert’s question, my gaze darting around the room again as I fidget in my seat. This is the part of the conversation I’ve been dreading. It’s one that I left to my parents to explain to Cindy when I brought her home three months ago, but I can’t wait that long this time. I promised Cindy I would tell her husband everything when he was released from prison. “Jack is dead. A lot happened after you and Cindy were arrested.”

  “Tell me,” Robert pleads. Even though he must know our story had as happy of an ending as it could given our circumstances, he still looks completely worried about the explanation I’m about to give.

  “My parents turned to Jack after our family picture went up all over the news and social media. They had nowhere else to go, and Mark knew they’d go there.” Robert’s face twists in disgust at the mention of Mark’s name. I can’t deny the man’s name tastes like poison rolling off my tongue. “He’s the one who reported you and Cindy to the authorities and told them the location of the house my family lived in. He followed my dad there from a graveyard he was visiting.”

  The disgusted look on Robert’s face quickly turns to shock. “Mark was alive?” As I nod,
I can see the wheels turning in his head as he again puts the pieces together. “He came after you.”

  I nod reluctantly. “He stabbed Jack and tried to steal me in the middle of the night. My parents fought back, but Jack managed to take Mark down enough for my dad to finish the job. Jack died shortly thereafter but not before giving my parents instructions to take all the cash he had and to call his attorney who helped them get settled in their new home.”

  “In Maine,” Robert completes the thought for me. “And you’ve been living there ever since?”

  “We’re well-hidden in a small house in the woods. My parents were careful with the money Jack gave them. They’ve only ever bought the most basic food and supplies for us to survive, and anything else they buy is second-hand. Even after all these years they had more than enough money left to buy you and Cindy a small home not far from us in Maine.”

  Robert’s eyes instantly seem to perk up. “You got us a house?”

  “Well, it was more like the basic frame of a house at first, but we’ve been working hard on it these past few months. My parents and I fixed it up after I brought Cindy to Maine when she was released. The past few weeks she’s been busy putting her own finishing touches on it. It’s nothing fancy, but–”

  “It’s going to be perfect.” Robert reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. It feels like the first real moment we’ve connected as family. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. Thank you for getting me and telling me all of this.”

  I nod simply because there are no words for me to reply to his gesture. I’ve accomplished the hard part of what I needed to do. Robert understands. Now I just need to get him home.

  “I think I’m ready,” Robert says confidently as he squeezes my hand and releases it. “I need to talk to Cindy. I–” He stops to take a breath, seemingly having trouble keeping his emotions in check. “I need to speak with my daughter.”

  I smile widely in response, trying to let happiness and relief wash over my own swirling emotions at the conversation we’ve just had and what today means for my family. Pulling the phone out of my pocket, I offer it to the man whose life is about to change in an incredible way. “It’s the first saved number. They’re waiting for your call.”

  There’s a slight shakiness to Robert’s hand as he takes the phone from me. I stand up to offer him a hand getting up from the booth, but he waves me off. “I may look like an old man, but I can still get around just fine.” He smiles at me once he’s fully to standing. “Thank you, Dante.”

  I’m left in a bit of unexpected shock at Robert calling me by name for the first time as he makes his way out the door of the diner. Taking my seat again in the booth, I watch through the window as Robert paces the dirt parking lot of the diner and dials the number on the phone.

  When he collapses to his knees and puts a hand to his forehead I know the call has connected.

  He’s reunited with his family again.

  I smile even wider and let him have his moment as my appetite returns to finish the rest of my sandwich.

  7

  The drive back to Maine was just as long as before though not nearly as quiet.

  It helped to not have a grieving, emotionally distraught grandparent next to me.

  Robert seemed to enjoy our days of driving together. He was eager to get to our destination, insisting that he take the wheel for large portions of the drive to give me a chance to rest and to get us home with as few stops as possible.

  It was never addressed out loud between us, but there was a look of reflection on his face as he’d glance over at me in the seat next to him throughout the trip. I know he spent countless hours driving around with my dad when they were an unlikely pair working together to find my mom all those years ago. I wonder if he experienced that sense of déjà vu again with me in this car.

  We hit the Maine border after less than three days of being on the road. It’s late evening, well past dinner time by the time we drive by the road that leads to my house, but in speaking with my mom an hour before, she said the family would wait to eat dinner until we arrived. Cindy insists on welcoming Robert to their new home with an amazing home-cooked meal that she refuses to let him eat reheated from the microwave.

  It makes me smile inside to think these are the kinds of dilemmas my family will have to face going forward.

  Robert is awake but quiet next to me, apparently nervous out of his mind as the light of the dashboard shows him twisting his hands in his lap and staring out the windshield at the empty road surrounded by trees and brush ahead of us. The debate in my mind whether to say something to him to calm his nerves is cut short by something catching my eye just as we’re making a fast turn around a curve. There’s movement on the dirt shoulder of the side of the road.

  My throat collapses in a gasp when I see her brown hair whip behind her as she raises her head. The headlights catch her eyes looking at the car–looking at me–and I yank the steering wheel to the side to give plenty of clearance so that I don’t hit her.

  Robert curses and grabs the dash in front of him as I straighten out the car to finish the curve. I can feel his stare on me as he asks, “You okay?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I quickly reply, daring a glance at the rearview mirror, but she’s already gone from my view. “Just wasn’t expecting someone walking on the road this late.”

  Despite my attempts to keep my voice even, I’m sure Robert can sense that seeing that woman on the side of the road has put me completely out of whack. I refused to let myself go back to CJ’s Tavern to see the waitress who had such an effect on me the one time I went there three months ago. I busied myself with rebuilding my grandparents’ house, not letting my mind linger on her and the life she exuded in every step. As much as I tried to block her from my mind, there was no stopping her from entering my dreams.

  Dreams can be beautiful, showing us that which is so incredible and amazing that it can only exist in dreams. They can also be torture, reminding us of the past and of futures we can never have.

  I’m still trying to get my head screwed back on straight when we pass by CJ’s Tavern only a few minutes later. The irony that it’s on the way to my grandparents’ house is not lost on me. I’ve had to pass by it–to be reminded of it and the experience I had with the woman working inside it–each day that I went to work on my grandparents’ house as part of my efforts to forget about her and my dead-end life, and I’ll continue to pass by it each time I go to visit my grandparents from this day forward.

  I never should have gone to that damn tavern in the first place.

  Less than twenty minutes and a few side roads later, we’re pulling into the driveway to my grandparents’ house. After not seeing it for a week, I can more fully appreciate how much better it looks now than it did when we first got the keys to it.

  Hanging lanterns on each side of the covered front porch highlight the vertical light blue plank board siding of the one-story house. Two sturdy rocking chairs and a small coffee table fill one side of the porch and planters full of flowers fill the other. I see movement through the window as we approach the house, and within moments the front door swings open.

  Cindy is the first to emerge, quickly tearing off her apron and throwing it aside as she takes the few steps down from the porch and practically runs toward the car. Robert is out of the vehicle before I even turn off the engine, and I sit back and watch as my grandparents truly reunite for the first time in over twenty years.

  By the time my mom is outside and within Robert’s embrace, I almost can’t watch anymore. I’ve hardened myself emotionally, trying to be strong and not let my feelings overwhelm me, but it’s difficult to maintain my composure while experiencing this long-awaited reunion. I may not remember or have been part of all the hell my family went through, but I still feel the effects of it right along with them. I’ve seen my mom suffer and struggle over the years to get past everything that happened to change her life. She never thought she’d have her fam
ily back together again, yet here we are.

  They embrace each other in tears for a long moment until it appears Cindy has decided to prod her husband toward the front door, no doubt to get him seated at the dining room table for his first home-cooked meal in decades. I can’t hide in the car any longer as Mom motions me out of it to follow her.

  Before I can even get out of my seat, she has her arms around me. The wetness on her cheeks sparkles from the light from the porch, making the broad smile on her face look even brighter.

  “You did it, Dante,” she whispers in my ear. “You brought them both back.” I can feel the silent sob in her chest as she pulls me even closer to her.

  Dad walks up behind us, pulling us both against him for a moment before we all pull back from each other. “You did great.”

  She nods in agreement with him, grinning with an easy and impenetrable happiness that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from her before, and for a moment I feel absolute satisfaction in what I’ve done with my life. My goal has been fulfilled. My family is back together again, and I’ve served my purpose. This is the first day of the rest of our lives.

  Lives that will still be lived in seclusion. Lives that will never be normal.

  I swallow away the tightness in my throat. My emotions are running wild now. Between seeing the woman on the side of the road, to seeing my family back together again, to realizing I’ve accomplished everything I’ve set out to do since the moment my mom came up with the idea to reunite our family, I’m left with nothing but an empty feeling.

  I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. It’s the bad kind of blank slate. The entire world is out there for me to embrace, but I’m forced to watch it from a distance. It’s this damn snow globe in the palm of my hand that I can clearly see inside but never truly experience. I have nothing to grasp on to, nothing to hope for.