CHAPTER 16
1811 Words
CHAPTER 16
Jodie shut her eyes and shook her head weakly. “I don’t like those pills.”
“I didn’t ask if you liked them,” Vinny snapped back. “Open your mouth.”
“How many are there?” Kennedy asked when she saw more than one in his hand.
“Four. She’s gotta take them all at once.”
Kennedy had never heard of a dose that large for anxiety meds, especially for a child as small as Jodie.
“I don’t like them,” Jodie moaned again.
Even though her hand was still cuffed to the metal ring, Kennedy tried to position herself a little in front of Jodie. It wasn’t hard since Jodie scurried behind her, scrunching herself up in between Kennedy and the couch cushion.
“Do you take these regularly?” Kennedy asked. If these men expected her to care for Jodie when she was hyperventilating, she was going to keep up her air of medical superiority at all costs. All the clues from the past few days — the phone, the uncle, the clinic, the kidnapping — played out in flashes in Kennedy’s mind. They were racing to set themselves in logical order, and the closer she got to the full picture, the more dread grew and made its home in the center of her gut.
“My uncle gave me one after church.” Jodie was curled up in the couch, and Kennedy could hardly hear her. “It made me throw up.”
“What medicine is it?” Kennedy tried not to cower in front of Vinny, whose scowl radiated both impatience and contempt.
“I already told you. It’s for anxiety.”
Kennedy saw the hateful gleam in his eye. He was probably armed like his partner. She felt as nervous as she had as a child when she went ice skating on a frozen pond, trying hard to balance, all the while expecting the ice to crack beneath her at the slightest shift in weight.
“Can she take them after she eats something?” Kennedy tried to speak confidently without being too abrasive, either. “That might help with the nausea.”
Time. Kennedy needed more time. Time to think. Time to sort out all her thoughts. And a snack for both of them wouldn’t hurt, either.
Vinny’s expression may as well have been etched in granite. “She takes them now.”
“I don’t need them anymore. I don’t feel anxious at all.” Jodie’s voice was a pitiful little yelp squeaking out from behind the couch cushion.
“Your uncle Anthony says you need them.”
At the mention of Jodie’s uncle, Kennedy felt the floor had been slipped out from under her, like those inertia magic tricks when the magician pulls off the tablecloth.
“My uncle?” the child squeaked. “He knows I’m here?”
“We’ve been in contact,” Vinny answered gruffly. “And he wants you to take your pills.”
Kennedy scratched her cheek. Jodie’s uncle. So he was involved. Thoughts collided against each other in Kennedy’s brain as the pieces of the puzzle zoomed into place. The uncle. The same man who had overheard Jodie’s phone call to the hotline phone. The same man who wanted her to get rid of her baby. Kennedy eyed the white tablets again as warning alarms screeched and squealed between her temples, unleashing a torrent of adrenaline and pure rage. Those weren’t anxiety meds. How far along had Jodie said she was in the pregnancy? Five months?
Kennedy kept herself positioned squarely between Jodie and Vinny. “She can’t take those.”
He reached out to push her out of the way, but Kennedy slapped the pills out of his hand. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her head to the side. Before he picked up the fallen tablets, she tried to sweep them away with her foot.
“Wait! They’re not safe this late.” Kennedy clawed at his forearms as Vinny pinched Jodie’s cheeks together.
He forced her mouth open. “Take them.”
Kennedy winced as the handcuff cut against her wrist, but she hardly registered the pain. Anger, fright, and horror all mingled together, poisoning her blood, tinting her vision. She tried to knock Vinny’s hand out of the way. Dustin appeared behind the couch and forced Jodie’s mouth open once more.
“She can’t take them.” Kennedy reached with her free hand to scratch at Dustin, but he only strengthened his grip on Jodie’s jaw. Gurgling noise came from the back of Jodie’s throat. Dustin was holding her head so tight the veins in his forearms popped up.
Vinny loomed over them both, towering over Jodie with the pills in his hand. Kennedy tried to kick him away. He clenched his fist, and then pain splintered across Kennedy’s temple. Her head jerked back right before Vinny punched her again in the gut. For a moment, she was paralyzed. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. She sensed the commotion around her but couldn’t process any of it.
“Hold her head steady,” Vinny growled.
“I’m trying.”
Kennedy could hear the strain in both men’s voices. Jodie was still struggling, but what chance did a thirteen-year-old girl have against two armed men? A toxic, murderous fury boiled over from somewhere deep within Kennedy’s core, and she kicked Vinny in the shin. He cursed and lunged at her. She let out a roar and kicked him once more, this time in the groin. He dropped the pills and fell on the couch.
Jodie cried out once when he landed with his elbow on her midsection.
The room fell silent except for Jodie’s tiny sobs. With her toe Kennedy nudged one of the pills under the couch and snuck her other foot over two more. She couldn’t find the fourth. The pained grimace on Vinny’s face morphed into a mask of rage, and hatred dripped from his entire countenance.
“You little ...”
Kennedy tried not to shrink back. God, you have to get us out of here. Her heart was thudding violently, pounding as if its one purpose in life was to beat its way out of her chest.
“Where are the pills?” Vinny spoke each word slowly, allowing his malicious venom to lace every syllable.
Kennedy tried crushing the two pills underfoot with her shoe, but they were too durable.
“She kicked one under the couch,” Dustin declared.
“Stand up.” Vinny’s voice was now eerily controlled.
Kennedy got off the couch but had to lean over Jodie since one of her wrists was still cuffed. Her face was a few inches away from Jodie, who cried softly into her hands. I’m sorry, she wished she could say. I’m so sorry.
“Pick up your foot.”
Kennedy shut her eyes. Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do. Only that didn’t apply here. Vinny knew exactly what he was doing. Was he really that deranged? Did he hold such little regard for Jodie and her safety? For the life she carried? Didn’t he know what those pills would do? How could he work for someone related to Wayne Abernathy, whose name was synonymous with the pro-life movement in Massachusetts? So was Jodie’s father involved, too? A dozen potential scenarios, each more troublesome than the previous, whirled their way around Kennedy’s mind in a convoluted, dizzying blur.
She let out her breath, defeated, and took her foot off the two pills she had tried to hide. I’m sorry, Jodie. I’m so sorry.
Vinny kept his eyes on Kennedy. She could feel the heat from his stare boring into her forehead before he jerked his head at Dustin. “Pick them up.”
Dustin came around to the front of the couch.
“Check and see if you can find the others,” Vinny ordered.
A lone, silent tear slipped down Kennedy’s cheek. She couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone. What was the point of reaching the top of her high school class if she had to stand by and do nothing while a poor, victimized child was forced to swallow abortion pills that would kill her child and ravage her body? What was the point of studying in college until her eyes burned if she couldn’t help a little girl or the baby she was too young to carry? She forced herself to look at Jodie’s heaving shoulders. What was the point of worshipping a God who wouldn’t lift his finger to rescue these precious souls?
The thought was blasphemous, but for the moment she didn’t care. How could Christians understand the evil that flourishes in this world and still walk around with their happy smiles and talk about God’s blessings? How could Christians confront such brutal, beastly violence and then fold their hands and thank God for his providence? She bit her lip to keep it from trembling and guessed what her dad would say:
And we know that all things work together for the good of those who love God. Well, Kennedy loved God. She had given up her rights to a “normal” American childhood and watched her parents start their Secret Seminary overseas. She had sacrificed time she didn’t have to volunteer at the pregnancy center, and now she might never go back to her dorm. She might never talk to her mom or dad again. Another tear leaked down her face.
She didn’t fight when Dustin bent down inches from her and picked up the pills. She didn’t stomp on his fingers or try to kick his nose when he swept his hand under the couch and found the two others. Up until now, she thought the phrase pick your battles referred to minor compromises to help you get along with your family members or roommates. She hadn’t ever stopped to think that sometimes you have to give up the most worthy of battles, the battles that deserve to be fought, the battles that hold life and dignity and innocence captive.
Dustin stood up. Vinny reached his hand out. “You will take these. Now.” He fixed his gaze on Kennedy. “And you won’t get in the way.”
Kennedy didn’t have the strength to cringe.
Jodie took the pills in her hand. In her eyes, Kennedy saw the same resigned sadness that squeezed and wrung her own soul as if it were a soppy-wet rag. “Can I have some water?” Jodie’s voice was quiet, but it didn’t tremble.
Vinny glared for a second longer and then strode to the tool table and grabbed some sort of thermos. As he stomped to the bathroom, Kennedy stared down at the floor.
“Here,” Vinny grumbled when he returned, splashing water when he thrust the cup in front of Jodie.
She raised her eyebrows once at Kennedy. That single, trusting, hopeful look stabbed Kennedy’s heart like a thousand guilt-laced arrows. She blinked back her tears and gave the child a nod. Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do ...
Jodie uncurled her legs out from beneath her. She put her feet on the floor and reached for the cup. Kennedy’s throat threatened to collapse on itself. Part of her wanted to force her eyes away. The other part wanted to brand each small detail into the recesses of her memory. Maybe God could forgive Jodie’s uncle and kidnappers for what they were forcing her to do, but Kennedy never could. She steeled up her heart, fortified its chambers with walls of cool, calculating wrath, and wondered if she had ever really understood the phrase righteous indignation until this exact moment.
The thermos trembled in Jodie’s hand. Kennedy sucked in her breath, steeling herself.
The tin cup clattered on the floor. The water splashed out and sprayed Kennedy’s leg. The pills made the smallest of thuds when they hit the ground. Jodie yelped and jumped to her feet. Everyone stared at the front of her pants.
She was covered in blood.
- Writer
