42. Valerie

42

VALERIE

Rough Riders fans grumble their frustration as one when the whistle signals the end of the first quarter. Arizona scored twice in the twelve-minute period while the Rough Riders remain scoreless.

Everyone’s disappointed by the team’s defensive performance. But while the other fans are angry, I’m concerned. Carter disappeared halfway through the quarter. And I don’t just mean he didn’t play. I mean he literally disappeared from the sideline.

I’d been avoiding looking for him when he wasn’t on the field, but when he didn’t run out when Arizona got the ball, I scoured the sideline for his jersey only to realize he wasn’t there.

“Where the hell is Carter Jones?” One of the coach’s sons asks the million-dollar question. The suite is packed with the coaches’ family members and friends, and nearly everyone mumbles that they have no idea what happened to our star linebacker.

“He better have a broken leg,” a guy wearing a cowboy hat says, leaning back on his boot heels, showcasing his pot belly. “Otherwise, he needs to get his ass back on that field and start blocking some passes!”

The woman next to him slaps his chest for cursing while others shout out their agreement with his sentiment.

Megan glances at me.

I pretend like I don’t hear a thing. “Want something to drink?” There’s a kitchen filled with water and soda, but I think a beer could help silence the thoughts and feelings distracting me from enjoying this Super Bowl experience to the fullest.

“Sure. I’ll come with you.” She starts to rise from the plush stadium seats where we’d been watching the game.

“No, that’s okay. I want to go alone.” I’m pretending not to notice, but it’s obvious people in this room knew who I am. And I’m not talking about being Coach Palmer’s daughter.

Megan settles back in her seat with a wary look. “Okay… text me if you change your mind.”

“I will.” I weave my way through the crowded suite and exhale a sigh of relief when I’m out of the room.

My relationship with Carter was well known. While our breakup hasn’t received the same level of attention, it’s been reported by at least one sports gossip site. More might’ve shared the news too, but I’ve made a point of avoiding social media these past months.

It’s obvious people in the suite are curious about me. Or, more accurately, curious about me and Carter. I’ve done a good job of holding it together, but I needed a break from their scrutiny.

The concourse is not that crowded. In less than a minute, I’m in line to buy an overpriced lager when I get a text.

I’m stunned when I see it’s from Dad.

Shouldn’t he be busy… I don’t know… coaching the biggest game of his career?

Curious about what he sent me, I open the message. What I read makes me drop the phone on the ground.

Carter’s daughter is missing.

“Here you go, Miss,” an older gentleman hands me my phone after picking it up off the ground.

“Thank you,” I murmur in shock.

Concern fills his gaze. “Are you all right, miss?”

I force myself to nod. “I’m fine. Thank you.” I turn on my heel and walk out of the line. Frantically, I type a text back to my dad.

What do you mean she’s missing? I just saw her half an hour ago!

Three bubbles appear right away.

I’m just telling you what the cops told Carter. The police are securing the stadium exits. But since you’re on the box level, I thought I’d tell you so you can join the search for her there.

Immediately, I reply.

I’m on it.

My heart races in my chest at a pace I never knew possible as I grip my phone in my fist and begin to scour the crowd around me for any sign of Abby.

Where could she have gone?

Did she leave on her own or did someone take her?

The thought makes me want to vomit.

Adrenaline makes my hands shake as I walk through the box level. My head swings from side to side. My eyes travel up and down. My heart leaps into my throat when I see a little girl with brown hair. But just before I call out to her, she turns and I see her profile. She’s not Abby.

I don’t want to, but I force my mind to go to the place of thinking like someone who would take Abby.

Where would they go?

Where could they hide?

Even now, I see other security personnel searching the area like I am.

The men and women are focused. They’re taking this situation seriously.

What about the bathroom?

I look up and search for a sign indicating a bathroom is nearby. The suites have private restrooms, but with how crowded they are, surely this level has additional bathrooms for guests to use.

Sure enough, I find one. I immediately race inside and call out, “Abby?”

I’m met with silence.

I refuse to be discouraged. I rush out of the bathroom and shout into the men’s restroom. “Abby?”

“Uh,” A guy clears his throat awkwardly. “This is the men’s restroom.”

“Sorry,” I call back, listening afterward to see if I hear the sound of a struggle or Abby calling back to me.

Nothing.

I leave and find another restroom.

Security might have already done this, but in case they haven’t, I’m going to do it myself. I have to do something. It’s not like I can go back into the suite and watch the rest of the game knowing Abby is missing.

The next two bathrooms I search have the same outcome as the first.

I’m wondering what I can do next to help find Abby when I walk into the last bathroom on this level before I reach the spot where I first began my search.

“Abby!” I shout. “Are you in here?”

“Va—” The word is cut off.

My heart drops.

“Abby!” I run into the bathroom and promptly begin to hit the stall doors when I don’t see her. “Where are you?!”

Thumps and the sound of a scuffle fill the massive bathroom. Unlike the other restrooms, it’s not empty. Three women stand at the sink. Their eyes are wide and their demeanor nervous as they take in my erratic behavior and hear the same sounds I hear.

“A little girl is missing,” I quickly explain. “I think she’s in here.”

The women’s fear of me instantly fades. They’re on my side. “We’ll help find her.” They scatter and begin pushing in the other stall doors.

“Abby!” I yell again. “Make noise if you’re still in here!” There are two exits to the bathroom. I’m in the path of one. I pray whoever Abby’s struggling against didn’t take her out of the other one.

A yelp makes me jump in my skin.

“Let me go!” Abby screams.

I race towards the sound of her voice, turning the corner to another row of stalls, and see Abby struggling against a woman wearing a baseball cap. The woman grips her wrist and tries to drag the little girl to the exit just a few feet away.

“STOP!”

“Valerie!” Abby’s eyes find mine. Her ponytail is loose, and her t-shirt looks stretched. She drops her weight, tugging the woman’s arms down and throwing her off balance. “Help!”

Footsteps sound behind me as the other women follow the noise and appear beside me. One heartbeat later, I’m charging the woman holding Abby.

I don’t know who she is.

I don’t know how dangerous she could be.

But I don’t care.

All that matters is getting Abby away from her, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

The baseball cap is pulled over the woman’s eyes, but she sees me coming. She grunts in frustration and tries to pick up Abby to run.

The six-year-old flails wildly, delaying the woman’s escape long enough for me to reach their side.

Instinct takes over, and I grab the woman by the arm, digging my nails into her long-sleeved t-shirt.

She screams but doesn’t release Abby. I maneuver my body and get the stranger in a chokehold.

Thank you, college self-defense lessons!

“Let her go!”

The other women appear and help free Abby of the woman’s grasp.

“Stacy, go get the police!” One of them shouts as she pries the stranger’s fingers off Abby’s shirt.

“Got it.” The woman, Stacy, races out of the bathroom just as her companions free Abby from the stranger.

Relief floods through me.

Abby is safe.

This is almost over.

The stranger whips her head back, taking advantage of my distraction.

Stars shoot across my vision when her skull hits my jaw. I reel back in pain, unintentionally releasing her as I fall to the ground. I land on my butt, sending another jolt of pain through my body.

But one of the women intercepts her before she can get ahold of Abby again. The other rushes the little girl back, keeping her out of Sara’s reach.

The person whirls back around. “You bitch!”

I know that voice…

Sure enough, when my vision recovers from the head butt, I focus on the face of none other than the woman who’d cornered me and the twins at the science fair.

Sara.

I scooch back until I hit a stall door.

Sara has a crazed look in her eye that fills me with dread.

“What are you doing here?” She sneers. “Carter wants nothing to do with you. Why are you harassing his kid?” She spews the words at me. It takes me a moment to process what she’s said.

This woman is delusional.

“ You’re the one he wants nothing to do with,” I counter, using the stall behind me to help me get to my feet. “And I’m not the one who just tried to kidnap his daughter!”

“Carter belongs to me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away.” Logic holds no sway with this woman. She’s incapable of thinking clearly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her already flushed face turns a dark, angry red. “I should have run you over with my car when I had the chance!”

What the actual hell?!

“Valerie,” Abby whimpers. She cowers between the two remaining women. They’ve stayed to make sure I’m okay.

“It’s alright,” I reassure her gently. “Everything is going to be all right.”

I look at the women. “Get her out of here, please.”

They nod.

“No, Valerie. Come with me!”

I tune out Abby’s heart-wrenching protests as the women usher her toward the exit and focus on the lunatic in front of me. I won’t let Sara out of my sight until I know Abby is safe.

“You need to leave,” I tell her with a deceptively calm voice, keeping her attention on me.

She adjusts the baseball cap on her head with a scowl. “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Carter.”

“Carter doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“I’ve loved him for years,” she hisses. “And he broke up with you. It’s you who needs to leave.”

I sense that Abby is almost at the door.

With her safety nearly secured, I let the anger I feel for this woman and the danger she’s put me, Abby, Andy, and Carter in fuel the vitriol of my next words.

“Listen, you psycho. Carter and I may be over, but at least I was his girlfriend. Whereas you are nothing more than a delusional, pick-me girl who pathetically tries to force herself into his life with the idiotic hope that it will make him like you. News flash, it won’t. Carter will never like you. Ever.”

Sara’s entire body shakes with hatred. “You bitch.”

Metal glints in the sunlight coming in through the tall window on the far wall, but I don’t realize she holds a knife until it’s flying towards my face as she screeches, “FUCK YOU!”