Chapter Twenty-Two

Brandy

I could smell fresh brewed coffee. That’s what woke me up.

I should probably have felt bad that I didn’t wake up when Collin got out of bed, or when the sun rose and shone through the open windows into the bedroom, or any of the other various ways the world tries to wake you up in the morning. But coffee… the smell of fresh brewed bean juice does it every time. Like a Folgers commercial, I wake with a smile on my face and hope in my heart because of those damn burnt beans.

Before I bounded out of bed and ran down the stairs, I became keenly aware of how naked I was, which was good, since I was positive other people were in the house. Still, I wanted to look cute, so I slipped out of bed, brushed my teeth, did all my morning routine stuff, and even put on just a touch of makeup. Not a lot. I wasn’t going glam. But I was trying to not look like a troll monster from beyond the bog if at all possible.

A pair of pajama pants with The Goonies logo all over them were the choice of the day, and I rolled them down so they fit on my hips rather than sit over my stomach. With the option of a tank top that would show so much cleavage I could compete on Ru Paul’s Drag Race or a T-shirt that intentionally stopped just above my navel, I went with the T-shirt. If Owen was there, I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, or distract Collin from being able to think clearly.

Okay, maybe I might like to make Collin not be able to think clearly. It was fun when he got flustered and didn’t know what else to do other than kiss me.

As I came down the stairs, I could make out other smells that mixed along with the coffee to create a bouquet of great breakfast options. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw, though.

The dining room table was absolutely full of breakfast food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, fruit, cereals, it was all there. Owen was sitting in one of the chairs, clearly waiting on me to come in, and Collin was in the kitchen, pouring a mug of coffee. He crossed over to me, handed me the mug, and kissed my forehead.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Holy crap,” I said. “Good morning to you too. Wow. This is incredible!”

“Eh, I didn’t have time to do biscuits,” he said.

“Is… is he for real?” I asked Owen, who shrugged.

“This isn’t uncommon,” he said. “It’s not all the time, but it’s not uncommon either. He likes to cook.”

“I do,” Collin said.

“Well, this is seriously impressive. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start wherever you like. Whatever doesn’t get eaten will get boxed up and Owen or Jesse will eat it later. It’s always those two. If nothing else, Logan will come take extras and bring them to the firehouse.”

“Incredible,” I said, taking a plate and making my way around the table.

Filling up a plate with a decidedly unladylike amount of food, I took it to the edge of the table and sat down next to Collin, who at least had a larger plate than I did, so I didn’t feel so bad. Owen’s plate dwarfed both ours, though, and he began devouring his food as if it owed him money.

“So Owen, I don’t think we’ve really gotten a chance to know each other at all. Can you tell me a bit about yourself?”

He shrugged, waving a forkful of pancakes and syrup in the air.

“Not much to tell,” he said. “I like animals and not many people. I used to play a lot of baseball and still follow that pretty closely. Everybody said I should play football because I’m so big, but I hated playing it, and I’m not fast enough for basketball. I eat a lot.”

I nodded. “Good list.”

He shoveled another forkful in his mouth and chuckled.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“I don’t really do much,” he said. “I wrestle. That’s my whole life now.”

“You what?” Collin asked.

Owen froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. His eyes shifted to me, then to his brother and back again. Slowly, he lowered the fork.

“Okay, but you can’t tell Luke.”

“Tell Luke what?” I asked.

He sighed. “I’ve… I’m a professional wrestler.”

Collin and I looked at each other for a moment in confusion.

“What, you mean like ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin?” I asked.

“Y-yes,” Owen said. “But a lot more like Brock Lesnar. At least that’s how I’m presented. I’m real big, so I can’t be a normal guy.”

“You… are a pro… wrestler?”

Collin seemed to be having a lot of difficulty with the concept.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “But look, I mentioned this once to Luke, and he went nuts. He said I was forbidden to do it because I’d break myself in half. Or I’d break someone else in half. Whatever. He was adamant that I not do it. But the day I turned eighteen, you remember how I left to go to a party with some friends?”

“Yes,” Collin said.

“Well, that party was actually me going to my first wrestling school class. They have them down at the armory in Odessa. It’s where I am most nights if I’m not booked on a show.”

“You mean to tell me that you run around in Spandex and pretend to fight people?” Collin asked, clearly bewildered. “You?”

“There’s a lot more to it than that, but yeah.”

“What’s your ring name?” I asked. When Collin looked at me in an even deeper state of confusion, I shrugged. “I used to watch all the time. I loved The Rock. John Cena too.”

“They call me Owen Gordy,” he said. “Galloway is already a name of a wrestler, but I kind of look like an old Texas wrestler named Terry Gordy. So they say I’m his cousin or nephew or whatever.”

“And people believe it?” Collin asked.

“People believe whatever they want to believe,” Owen said. “It’s the fun of wrestling. You get to pretend like everything’s real, but no one gets really hurt. Most of the time, anyway.”

“Wait,” Collin said, “is that how you ended up breaking your ankle last year? It wasn’t from one of the horses taking off while you were dismounting?”

Owen hung his head.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, the horse taking off did happen, but it happened after I broke my ankle. I just didn’t know it was broken and tried to go do work and was walking on it. I got my foot stuck in the saddle because I didn’t have control and… well, I fell.”

“Unbelievable,” Collin said.

“Are you mad?” Owen asked.

“Mad? No. How could I be mad? You’ve loved that stuff since you were a baby! Of course, you got into it. It makes all the sense in the world. I just… I had no idea. I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s independent companies all over the world. I work for whoever hires me, but mostly it’s just West Texas Rasslin’. We have shows out in Sweetwater or Lubbock a lot.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Collin said.

My phone vibrated in my pajama pocket, and I pulled it out, expecting to see a snarky message from Basil about opening the store by herself again today. Instead, what I saw made the color drain out of my face and my hands start to shake. I wasn’t even aware of Owen getting up and leaving, or Collin continuing to talk to me until his voice cut through the fog of horror and despair.

“Brandy?”

“Collin,” I said. “Look.”

I held out the phone to him, and he took it, looking at the message and his eyes growing wide. While the color might have seeped out of my face, it filled his, and the rage was just barely contained behind his eyes. He handed the phone back to me, and I stared at the message again, unable to rip my eyes away.

On the screen was a picture. It was in black and white, but crystal clear. It was my face, my neck, and the top of my chest. It cut off before it got too low, but it was clear I wasn’t wearing my bra. An arm came down just at the bottom of frame, and it was also clear that it belonged to a man who was hunched over me. The calendar for the store was in the background.

It was from the hidden camera.

“Do you recognize that number?” Collin asked quietly.

“No,” I said. “I’ve never even seen that zip code before.”

He nodded. “Neither have I.”

The phone buzzed again, and a message came in below the picture.

“What does it say?” Collin asked.

“It says, ‘Don’t call. Text.’”

“What are you typing?”

“I’m asking what they want,” I said. “And who it is.”

When it buzzed again a moment later, my heart was thudding in my chest, and I felt like I might get sick. I handed the phone to Collin, the anxiety too much.

“They say they will give you the camera and delete all the footage they own if you meet their demands.”

“Demands? What demands?”

“I’m typing that,” he said.

A moment later, it buzzed again.

“We must meet in person. Alone.”

“Oh my God,” I said. “Collin, what am I going to do?”