FicWad

Ashlee scowled angrily at the phone as the caller ID displayed ‘Pete’. She was not in the best of moods; her errant husband had not come home, again. She was tired of having the same conversation with him. She didn’t mind if he wanted to stay out with friends occasionally, but he should at least call her to let her know. More annoyingly was that it was his first night home from the tour; he hadn’t seen either his wife or their son in weeks. Sighing she reached for the handset.

“What?” she snapped angrily.
“Ashlee?”
“Oh! Patrick, I’m sorry, I thought it was Pete.”
“Well,” he replied with a chuckle, “I am calling from his cell.”
“Is he with you?”
“Yeah, he’s here. He was kinda upset, apparently his therapy session didn’t go so well.”
“And he couldn’t come home? Or phone?” Ashlee asked, her tone full of indignation and irritation. “Forgot he had a wife and son, did he? Oh… I’m sorry, Patrick! Why am I taking this out on you? Can I speak to Pete, please?”
“Well… he’s… he’s a little tied up right now.”
“You mean he’s got a stinking hangover and he’s in the bathroom puking?”
Laughing, he continued. “Look, you two need some alone time together. Why don’t I pick you up and I’ll take you to him. You can be with him and I’ll take care of Bronx.”
“You do far too much for him, Patrick, he’s got to learn to…”
“This is for you, not him. And anyway, I’d like to spend some time with Bronx, if you don’t mind, that is?”
“Don’t be silly! He loves being with his Uncle Patrick,” she laughed at the memory of how much fun they always had together. She often got the feeling that Patrick enjoyed playing with his toys more than Bronx did.
“Well, that’s settled then.”
“Okay, and thank you,” Ashlee smiled down the phone. “Where are you? I take it you’re at home? I can be over there in…”
“No, no,” he interrupted. “You get your things together. I have a few errands to run and I’ll pick you both up in about an hour. Is that okay?”
“That’s great, I’ll see you then. Bye!”

“That went well, I thought.” Switching off the phone, Matthew gave a self-satisfied smirk. “What did you think?”

On the floor, only a few feet away, Pete sat with wide, terrified eyes. His bandaged wrists bound tightly behind him, a strip of tape pressed firmly down over his lips then further secured by a length of cloth fastened at the nape of his neck. Finally a knife held close to his throat ensured his absolute silence apart from the snatches of breath as panic and terror gripped him.

“I may need some information later; like what plans you’ve made with your friends. Once your wife and kid are here, I don’t expect I’ll have any difficulty forcing you to tell me anything I want to know.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he considered the threat. Lose his friends or his family. Was that really his choice? And even more upsetting - why was Patrick doing this?

*

Ashlee’s phone rang again. This time it was genuinely Patrick.

“Hey, Patrick,” she replied cheerfully to make up for how she had spoken last time. “Calling on your cell this time?”
“Uh… yeah,” he replied unsure what she meant but without time to ask. “I’m on the move, so I’ll be quick. Can you give Pete a message for me, please?”
“Sure, but won’t you see him later?” she asked surprised by the request.
“No,” Patrick laughed. “I kinda thought you guys would need some alone time today.”
“You are such a sweetheart, Patrick! Really, you’re too good to Pete.”
“You need time too,” Patrick replied with a chuckle. It was such a small gesture, hardly worthy of such high praise.
“I know, you said, but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”
“I said what?” Patrick frowned his lack of understanding. “Sorry, Ash, I’m coming up to a tunnel, I’m gonna lose signal. Can you tell Pete I’ll see him at the studio tomorrow at ten, we’re running through a new song.”
“Sure! I’ll see you later!”
“Uh… yeah. Take care. Bye!”

Patrick shook his head as he headed upstate to one of his favourite music stores. He wondered if Pete had been standing beside Ashlee distracting her with kisses. She had certainly given one or two very odd replies during the call. But what did it matter, she sounded happy enough.

*

Satisfied that Bronx was comfortable in his car seat and fastened securely onto the back seat of the Honda, Ashlee slipped into the passenger seat alongside the man she believed was Patrick.

“Has he got over his hangover yet?” she asked with a sigh.
“Pete doesn’t have a hangover, in fact, it wasn’t even his choice not to go home last night.”
“What do you mean?” Ashlee asked with concern.

Hearing the rear passenger side door open, Ashlee turned, her eyes widening with horror as the man she had come to know and fear as her stalker took his place on the back seat.

“Patrick!” she cried, in panic.


Only a moment later she heard the dull pop of the central locking being activated. Turning her head to stare at Patrick she saw him laughing unsympathetically at her.

“Face forward, look happy and shut up and your kid’ll make it through the journey,” he ordered.
“P…Patrick?”
“I said shut the fuck up!” he yelled.

In the back, Bronx, upset by the raised voices and apparent unease in his mother, began to cry.

“Shut him up!” he yelled into the back seat.
“No! Don’t hurt him!” Ashlee cried without hesitation.

Receiving a slap across her face for disobeying, Ashlee didn’t care; she would not let anyone hurt her baby. Leaning forward Connor pulled her back into the seat from behind as Matthew pulled out of the driveway.

“Sit still,” Connor whispered in her ear. “Or I’ll have to knock you out. Then who knows what I’ll do to you and our baby.”
“He’s not yours,” she whispered, terrified.
“You better pray that he is, or I may just have to kill you and the guy you cheated with. Wentz was it? He claims it’s his.”
“Don’t hurt him, please, either of them.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it? Now just sit quiet and I’ll play real nice with Junior.”