No Safe Zone
1257 Words
The west lot tunnels were silent. Too silent.
Dale kept his good hand resting on the gun inside his jacket while Selena drove them home. Fareeda slept in the back seat.
The fastest way to his place cut straight through here. Quick. Efficient. Dangerous.
She brought the car to a stop near the tunnel entrance and turned to face him.
“Something’s wrong.”
She said it flatly.
There was no evidence. Just instinct. The same instinct that had kept her alive when Carlos came after her. The tunnels were the obvious choice. And obvious routes were always watched.
She pulled away from the entrance.
“Longer route it is,” she muttered.
“If we’re heading into an ambush, we’ll make them work for it.”
She added the words before jerking the wheel into a sharp turn.
The olden nursery clinic sat on the edge of the industrial district, looking abandoned to anyone who didn’t know it was still operating under a different name.
The nurses running it now had worked for the Laurents for twenty years. Quiet. Loyal. Off the record.
She eased the car into their parking lot and reached back to nudge Dale awake. He opened his eyes, blinking around in confusion.
“Where are we?”
He asked as Selena climbed out.
“The olden nursery. A place my mother built to keep grown people safe. This is the safest place for Fareeda.”
“No, wait, what do you mean, the old nursery?”
Fareeda stirred, lifting her head and rubbing her eyes.
Selena slid into the back seat beside her, placing a hand on Fareeda’s lap.
“Mama, it isn’t safe for you out there right now. Please stay here for a while, and we promise we’ll come for you once everything’s settled.”
Fareeda turned to her son, who gave a slow nod.
She looked back at Selena, tears gathering in her eyes. “Make sure you come back for me.”
She said it quietly, and Selena wrapped her arms around her in a warm embrace.
“I promise, Mama. We’re not leaving you.”
Fareeda hugged her back.
After they pulled away, both women stepped out of the car.
“We’ll be right back.”
Selena said it as she guided Fareeda inside, while the older woman waved frantically at her son.
She checked Fareeda in and walked her to her room before leaving the hospital.
To the head nurse, she was direct: “No visitors. No calls. If anyone comes asking, you haven’t seen her. Understood?”
The nurse nodded. “Understood, miss.”
Selena returned to the car. On the drive out, Dale looked puzzled.
“Why are we taking this route?” he asked, groaning softly from the pain.
She shrugged.
“I’m not sure. I just think we should take this one.”
He understood. He sat up straighter and stayed alert as she took the longest route back to his house.
Meanwhile, Vivian had gone back to the condo and found it empty again.
She didn’t cuss. She didn’t slam anything. She just stood in the middle of the living room and let the silence close in on her.
When the call came that Dale was moving through the outer tunnels, she didn’t follow.
She went back to his house instead, and because she’d taken the shorter route, she arrived before he did.
About an hour later, Selena pulled into his driveway, her smile widening at how large his place was.
She glanced at him. “You’re going to have to show me around, you know.”
He laughed, then a sudden cough tore from his throat.
“Still hurts, huh? I’ll clean it again once we’re inside.”
She said, pointing at his wound as the car came to a stop.
She got out and walked to his side to help him out, her fingers interlocking with his as the pain spread through his body.
The moment Dale flicked the lights on, he froze and stepped back, nearly colliding with Selena. Vivian had been sitting on his couch in the dark the whole time.
Dale stopped short, staring at her like she was a ghost he’d buried two years ago.
“What the hell, Vivian? What is this?” he said, his voice flat.
Vivian moved toward him, but he pulled back, wincing in pain.
She stepped back slowly, her gaze shifting to Selena.
“And who do we have here?”
Dale closed the door.
“Selena, this is Vivian. My ex-girlfriend. Vivian, this is my wife, Selena.”
He said it casually, but the scowl on Vivian’s face could have soured milk.
“Your wife?” she shot back.
Before Selena could speak, his voice cut in again. “Fake wife. But yeah, my wife.”
Selena didn’t know why those words stung so much. They were true—she wasn’t really his wife. Maybe it hurt because of who he said it to, or how he said it.
Selena nodded. “Where do I sleep?”
“What? Sleep? Don’t you have a home?”
Vivian snapped back.
“Don’t listen to her. First floor, third door on your left.”
He answered, and she nodded before heading upstairs without another word. Dale watched her go, feeling unsettled but unsure why.
He turned back to Vivian. “Why the hell are you here?”
“I’m here because I can’t stay away from you. I love you, Dale,” she said. “Everywhere I go feels empty without you.”
Dale laughed—really laughed—as he lowered himself into a chair, groaning softly.
“I’ve always loved how bold you are, and that hasn’t changed. You cheated, I left, and then you traveled with that same guy and two others after. And now you’re back?
How much…”
“Excuse me?”
“How much do you want, Vivian? Just say it, and I promise not to give it to you.”
She frowned, crossing her arms.
“You know who my father is, right? What the hell do you think I am?”
She asked, and he laughed, nodding.
Meanwhile, Selena stirred in the hallway, watching.
Dale turned and saw her, his jaw tightening as she hurried back to her room.
Vivian watched her leave, then faced Dale again.
“It’s good you put her in the guest room. I’m staying with you. Whether you want me to or not.”
Dale exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even have the energy to argue. Sleep wherever you want, but definitely not in my room. And tomorrow, you leave.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the house phone rang.
Dale didn’t move for it. Neither did Vivian.
It rang again. Dale pulled himself up, walking toward the landline as he shook his head at Vivian.
“Hello, Farmington residence,” he answered.
“Hello, this is Oldie Nursery. You dropped your mother off about an hour ago.”
Dale’s blood went cold at the words.
“Yes, that’s my mother, Fareeda Farmington. This is Dale Farmington.”
The voice on the other end was clipped, urgent.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Ms. Farmington is gone. The room is empty. She left ten minutes ago.”
Dale’s face drained of color.
He was already moving, grabbing his keys.
“She wouldn’t leave like that. He snapped.
“No,” Vivian whispered.
“Unless someone made her.”
- Writer
