Wildest Dreams

I've paced the length of the living room what feels like a thousand times. My father and I have been in torturous silence for at least thirty minutes. He watches me from the sofa, his head resting on his hand, his knee tapping away from anxiety.

My cell phone is locked tight in my grip and my eyes stay trained on the floor. It's been too long. We should have heard something by now.

Dangerous thoughts are a steady stream through my mind as I try to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I have to keep busy. I have to keep moving.

“Mariah.” My dad’s voice is flat. I ignore him, but he stands from the chair and latches onto my upper arm. “Mariah, sit down.” He drags me over to the couch and forces me to sit. My mouth opens in protest but the look on his face tells me he's not to be argued with. “I can't watch you wear a hole in the floor any longer.”

“You can go.” My tone is full of attitude, my eyebrow raised as I point towards the door with the hand clutching my phone.

“Don't act like a stubborn child.” He turns his back to me and looks out the front window at the driveway. I rest my elbows on my knees and throw my phone down at the coffee table before letting out a frustrated cry while I yank at the roots of my hair.

“Why hasn't he called?”

“Brian is going to call me the minute they have Cash. Relax.” His voice is even, but he doesn't turn to look at me.

“Your son and grandson could be injured! Something could be wrong. How are you so calm right now?” I stand without even consciously thinking about it and begin the back and forth, back and forth again. “My son, dad. My sweet, innocent child.”

“None of them are going to stand by and let anything happen to that little boy, Mariah.”

He is cut off by the cell phone in his pocket buzzing. It only takes a second for him to snatch it up and press it to his ear, a hurried ‘hello’ mumbled into the speaker. My heart starts to race, my palms sweaty. I step closer to my father hoping to maybe overhear words being spoken from the other line. Brian, Sr.’s face goes pale and he reaches out to take my hand in his. He squeezes my hand as he listens to what the other person is saying. That could only mean something bad and my stomach turns.

“But the kid is safe?.. She’s right here.. Of course. I'll take care of it.” I'm sure my face is as white as a ghost but the words he had just spoken reassure me that my son is okay. The stress makes me feel sick and I have to sit down once again as my dad hangs up the phone.

“He's okay. They have him.” There's not as much joy in his words as I expected but a wave of relief washes over my body, but at the same time the nausea refuses to be ignored and I run for the downstairs bathroom as quick as my feet will carry me. I fall to my knees and vomit up nothing but bile since I haven't eaten a thing in over twelve hours.

The feel of someone brushing my hair back from my face and running the water pulls me out of my own head. A cool washcloth is placed over the back of my neck and my father whispers reassuring words in my ear as tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

“Why were you so worried?” My voice is weak as I turn to look at him, my head resting on the porcelain bowl.

“Mariah-“

“Dad, tell me. I can handle it.” He passes me a wash cloth to wipe my mouth with and I sit back to lean against the tub, my knees pulled to my chest.

“Zack was shot.” I squeeze my eyes closed, my heart sinking into my stomach once more. “Matt killed Chris, Mariah.” My eyes snap open to look at my dad’s face. “But there was an undercover officer sitting on Chris’s house, trying to get a glimpse of Cash. Once Brian got Cash out of the house Matt took the shot, got Chris, but that Travis guy started shooting. The officer took Zack down, but Matt and Brian got away. The cops are going to be here soon. Matt wanted me to tell you that.”

“Jesus Christ.” I stand from the floor and look at myself in the mirror. I wipe the tears from my cheeks and push past my dad out of the bathroom and into the living room where I grab my phone and dial Matt’s number.

”Hey.” Matt’s voice is laced with sadness. I can hear it even through the one word greeting.

“Now what?” I whisper out, the tears starting to flow. “My son gets his father back just in time for him to be carted off to prison?”

”I'm bringing him home to you, Mariah. I don't have anymore answers after that.” I can't stifle the sob that leaves my lips as i lean my back against the wall and cover my face with my free hand.

“This cannot be happening to us.”

”We’re here.”

The line goes dead and I race for the front door. I swing it open and just as I'm stepping onto the sidewalk they are pulling into the driveway. The passenger side door flies open and Matt jumps out, enveloping me in a vice-like embrace. Tears flow freely down my cheeks as Brian takes a sniffling, half asleep Cash from the backseat. Brian comes around the car and places my son in my arms. Matt squeezes the two of us tight, our son safe between us.

Brian and my father stand off to the side, hushed words exchanged between the two of them but I'm so focused on the two people right here I can't focus on them. My lips find the top of Cash’s head as he wakes enough to realize he's in my arms. He latches onto my shirt and nuzzles his face into my neck and the feel of his skin against mine fills me with joy, even if my heart is breaking.

Matt takes my face in his hands and kisses me hard like he's never going to get the chance again. When I look up at him a single tear is running down his cheek.

“I got our baby back and now you're safe.” He whispers against my forehead. As soon as the words leave his lips I hear sirens coming down the block. Matt pulls away from me long enough to take the gun from the back of his jeans. Matt tears the black sweatshirt from his body which I've only just noticed is speckled with dried blood. A lump builds in my throats as I step back with Cash who is awake and confused by all the commotion. My father steps up and takes the incriminating piece of steel as well as the sweatshirt from Matt before giving the man I love a nod.

“They won't find them, I promise.” My dad kisses my forehead before jumping in his car and taking off down the street before the cops round the opposite corner. My heart starts to race as three police cars pull up, their sirens screaming through the quiet afternoon. Cash begins to wail and I try to calm him but I'm not doing such a good job. I can't focus on any one thing. My eyes flicker from Brian, to Matt, to the police officers jumping out of their cruisers, guns drawn.

“Hands behind your head!” One of them calls out, his weapon pointed directly at Matt and I choke back a sob. My first instinct is to jump in front of him. To be some sort of barrier between his body and the bullets aimed for him. My son stops me from making that decision. Cash keeps me grounded as I bounce him up and down, whispering soothing words through my own tears.

Matt places his hands behind his head and Brian does the same, making sure to show they are no threat to the officers. Matt turns his head to the side and gives me a reassuring smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes.

“On the ground!” Two of the officers make their way over as Matt and Brian drop to their knees. “Matthew Charles Sanders and Brian Elwin Haner, Jr., you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”

Both my brother and the man I love more than life respond ‘yes’ to the officer before two of them slap cuffs on their wrists. I watch in misery as the two are loaded into the police cruisers.

“Ma'am, you can follow us to the station, if you choose. But it will be a few hours before they are booked and bail has been discussed.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Neighbors have come outside to watch by now and if I wasn't so distraught I might feel a little embarrassed.

“Mama.” Cash calls out, his cries having quieted.

“Yes, baby?” I snuggle him close, holding him is the only thing that's keeping me from falling apart on the front lawn as the police cars drive away.

“Where daddy go?” He sniffles and uses the back of his chubby hand to wipe away the remaining tears on his face. I can't even answer his question as I turn to go back inside the house. I set Cash down on the living room floor but he latches onto my leg and won't let go, his lip quivering and his nails pressing moonlike indents in my skin. “Mama!” His voice is frantic when I don't immediately pick him back up. I drop to my knees on the carpet and scoop him into my lap, feeling terrible for everything I've put him through. My son sobs into my shoulder as I rock him back and forth.

“Shhh.” I whisper out while running my hand through his hair. “Everything is okay, my love.” I keep my voice calm even though I feel anything but, to shield him from the reality that everything is not okay.