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Chapter Ten


Avery snuck out of the house later that afternoon, while Nick was in the shower once the water had finally, finally been turned on. She stole quick glances back at the door as she stood by the car in the driveway, dialing Marty’s number and waiting until he picked up.

Earlier, when she’d woke up and found Nick’s bedroom empty, the door wide open with not even a trace of him to be found anywhere in the house or by the lake, she’d called Marty in a panic…

”He’s gone,” she’d sobbed into the phone.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Marty’s voice was sour.

“Gone - Gone. Like he’s escaped.”

“He found out you ain’t a cop?” Marty sounded exasperated. “Fuck. How long? How far could he have gotten?”

“I don’t know!” Avery wailed. She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t checked on him at all since she’d gone to bed the night before. He must’ve figured it out when she was afraid of that damn mouse, she thought. Must’ve put two and two together, must’ve run for that bridge. She wondered how long ago he’d left, if he could possibly have made it across yet, if he was on the mainland and if he’d found someone to bring him home yet. Were there cops on the way to arrest her? Oh God, was Billy on the way to arrest her?

“Go find him. Now.” Marty’s voice was sharp.

“Find him? Find him where? I don’t even know where he went.”

“I don’t give a fuck where he went, you need to go find him. Now.” And like that, Marty had hung up on her without a single other word spoken.

Avery had felt stung, like she’d been slapped in the face. She’d stumbled to the door and there he’d been - Nick, that is - standing all doubled over in the driveway. The prodigal returned, just like that. She’d been so relieved and so infuriated at the exact same time… She remembered a time she’d been in a minor car accident after stealing her mother’s car. She’d stared at Nick the same way her mother had stared at her that night, with a flood of angry tears and relief at the same time.

“He’s here,” Avery said quickly instead of a greeting the minute Marty answered.

Marty’s exasperation was evident. “Good. You know, need to stop bitching about him 24-7 and start working on making the fucker happy to be with you. Whatever it takes. Don’t forget, he runs and we lose all the money we’re posed to make off this. Either that or you gotta just chain him up and get it over with.”

Avery rolled her eyes, “He might notice he’s been kidnapped if he’s chained up, Marty.”

“Or think you’re a kinky woman,” Marty chuckled.

“Marty,” she said in her best warning tone.

“Well… well fuck it if he does know he’s been kidnapped,” Marty said, “It doesn’t matter if he knows. He’s gonna figure it out eventually when we return him to the wild.”

Avery could hear through the phone that Marty was smoking. She wondered where he’d gotten the money for more cigarettes, since he’d left all his packs in the car that was currently out in the driveway. She wondered if he’d knocked off another store, if he’d spent all the money from the 7-Eleven till on smokes.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea he knows,” she said. “He’s a big guy, I wouldn’t be able to keep him here.”

Marty puffed out smoke into the phone, “Well. That’s why you need a big chain or a big rope. Something the Nickopotemus can’t chew through.”

“He’s not fat,” Avery said, “He’s lean. Just… he’s got some muscles packing there. And I’m not exactly Annie Oakley or Wonder Woman or whatever.”

“No shit,” Marty snapped. “You know, none of this shit would’ve happened if you hadn’t fucked up in the 7-Eleven to begin with. You were supposed to make sure there was only the one guy there,” he accused. “The first guy never would’ve been shot if we’d know he was there. And you were supposed to watch the front door in case somebody came in while I was robbin’ the place and you didn’t do that either. So don’t bitch about having to watch him. You didn’t get the short end of the stick, you got fuckin’ justice.”

Avery sighed. “I didn’t mean to fuck up, okay, Marty?” She shook her head and leaned against the car, sighing.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to be fucking this up any worse than you already have,” he said.

“I know,” Avery replied. “I know. He was just out for jog, though. That’s all. He’s back now, I haven’t fucked anything up --”

“Yet.”

“I’m not going to fuck anything up Marty. He didn’t go anywhere, okay, everything’s fine.”

“You don’t know that everything is fine,” Marty said hotly. “You don’t. And you won’t know, either. You’ll never know. Somebody could approach y’all at the most unexpected moment because they recognize him. Someone could easily have cable, just because your grandmother didn’t doesn’t mean there ain’t nobody on that island that has cable… and his fuckin’ face is on every channel practically.”

“That’s just down there, I’m sure,” Avery said, “A 7-Eleven getting knocked off isn’t national news.”

Marty’s voice was sharp, “But a missing Backstreet Boy is,” he said. “The whole fuckin’ country gives a shit, Ave. But other than the danger it poses for you up there, it’s good because if we let the world panic a little more, we’re looking at a really sweet ransom deal. We just gotta keep his face from being seen by people that can fuck over the plan and we’re in the gold, babe. Rolling in the gold. All the way to Venice or Paris or Berlin or Johannesburg or Sydney… wherever you wanna go, Princess.”

Avery sighed and rubbed her forehead. She wanted all those places, any of those places, as long as Nick Carter wasn’t there to whine through them, as long as she was back with Marty and comfortable and happy again. “Well we gave him an alias and everything. Just in case.”

“An alias won’t help much if they approach him, thinking he’s the missing Backstreet Boy and that he’s been found and he realizes that they’re looking for him,” Marty pointed out.

“So I’ll make something up if we do,” Avery replied. “Tell him it’s part of the program or something.”

Marty said, “Just make sure you have some good strong rope on hand and a place to put him if he finds out. This is a multimillion dollar pay off, Ave, not some seventy dollars in the till from a gas station. This is big time. It’s what we need in order to survive, in order to have any future. At all. Together or apart.”

Avery looked up and saw Nick coming out the front door, his wet hair sticking up every which way. She didn’t have time to ask what he meant by together or apart or to even stop to consider the implications set forth by such a statement. “I know,” she said hurriedly, then added in a more professional voice, “Well thank you for checking in, Chief, I appreciate you keeping us updated on the case, sir.”

Marty laughed, “Atta girl. Take care of our booty, Princess,” and he hung up.

“Have a good day sir,” Avery answered to the silent hum of disconnect as Nick walked up.

Nick had a t-shirt hanging around his shoulders, chest bare, his jeans hanging loose at his hips. “Hey,” he said as he stood on the bottom step of the porch, the screen door open, “Was that news from back home?” He looked eager.

“Just a quick check in with the Chief is all,” she replied.

“Oh,” he answered, “Did he have any messages from me? Did they get the gunman yet? Do they have a suspect? Can we go home soon?”

Avery shook her head no to all of it. Then she said, “I did mention about the jogging and me worrying sick over here that you’d been taken and he said he doesn’t want you out jogging by yourself anymore. I need to be with you 24/7, that’s the purpose of me being here, the purpose of you being here. For all you know, the gunman followed you, then us, all the way here and is just waiting for the chance to shoot you dead and a jog is the perfect time because it’d take me awhile to know you weren’t just taking a rest or something.” It was the perfect lie. It’d keep him from running all over, keep him from being seen, drawing attention to their presence. It’d keep him there at the house.

Nick sighed. As much as he wanted to be safe and looked-after, he didn’t like being told what to do, told he couldn’t go some place without a shadow. He’d lost a lot of girlfriends because of security measures -- he loved Mike and all, but dude was a total buzzkill when the ladies wanted to get in some blatant PDA, even if he was reading a book at the next table over. He’d evaded Mike several times on tours in various countries because sometimes a guy just wants a little time alone.

He was gonna end up having to operate the same way with Avery if he wanted to be alone, apparently.

“It’s for your safety,” Avery said.

Nick nodded.

“Good, now let’s get inside.”

“There’s nothing to do inside,” Nick whined.

“There’s not a lot to do out here,” Avery replied.

Nick looked around. “We could go check out the lake.”

Avery made a face.

“C’mon,” he said, “It’ll be fun.” He yanked the t-shirt from around his neck and pulled it over his head, tugging the hem down over his abdomen.

Before she could stop herself, Avery thought that she had kind of hoped he’d leave it off.

She was still clearing the thought out of her mind when he took off at a run around the house, down the slope, disappearing to the beach. Avery sighed and ran after him, slipping on the little hill so that she basically grass-skied down and came to a stop on a small bed of beach sand that ran the length of about fifty feet of the edge of the lake. The water was blue and clear for a little ways, then darkened into the deep that stretched away into the middle. A couple ducks were paddling around the edge at the far corner of the beach and a dock stretched out over the water, swaying gently as the lake surface chopped gently in a wind that surged off New York across the water. Nick was standing on the dock about halfway down it, inspecting a small canoe that was tethered to the third section of dock.

Avery stood on the shore. “C’mon, that wind is freezing, what the hell do you wanna be out here for?” she yelled at him. Not even a toe was on the dock.

“Adventure!” Nick yelled back. He knelt down and reached into the boat, pulling off the cover that had protected it from the elements.

“Can’t we just go inside?”

“When there’s a perfectly good boat here?” Nick asked, looking over at her with a grin. “C’mon, let’s take it for a spin.” He waved his finger around in a circle, indicating the lake and the circumference of the island.

Avery shook her head.

Nick looked at the boat, then back at her. “You scared of boats?”

“Are we gonna start this bullshit again?” She asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“I know this guy --”

“I know about the fuckin’ bird guy,” she said.

Nick grinned. “C’mon,” he pleaded.

“No.”

“Aaaa-verrrr-reeeey,” he whined each syllable like it was a whole word all it’s own. He puckered out his lower lip.

She crossed her arms.

“Are you seriously scared of the boat?” he asked, “Why?”

She pursed her lips, then untightened them, shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Because,” she said. Avery hesitated. Then, with a sigh, she said, “Because -- because gran always said it was haunted.” She dropped her arms, hearing how ridiculous it sounded as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “Oh fuck it,” she said, and she walked the length of the dock to where he stood, “It was just to keep us kids from messin’ around with it, it was gramp’s boat and she didn’t want one of us climbing in it and falling down. My brother did that once, chipped his front teeth.” She was sitting on the edge of the dock next to where Nick was kneeling and she slid herself into the boat and set herself onto one of the wooden benches that stretched across the width of the boat. “There. Are you happy now? Huh? Chad?”

Nick stood up and looked warily at the boat, “Haunted, huh?”

“Get in the boat,” Avery said.

He laughed, climbing in. “This thing is old as shit,” he announced.

“Gramp bought it in the 80s,” she said. “Got sick of fishing off the dock for sunnies, so he bought this monstrosity to go out there,” she waved at the lake, “And fish for sunnies there.”

Nick leaned down and reached to his feet. “Yup,” he said, “Definitely a fishin’ boat.” He held up a purple rubber worm with a rusty hook still stuck to it and waved it in Avery’s general direction.

She waved it away.

“Think the rest of his fishin’ gear is still here some place?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know,” Avery replied. “He didn’t fish much back home. But the last few years he was here he was real sick.”

“Sick?” Nick asked. “Cancer?”

“Dementia,” Avery answered.

“Oh.”

“He died in 2002.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said.

“Gran died in 2010. She lived here with her cat and dog all that time because she didn’t want to go home to the house gramps died in,” Avery said. She reached out her hand and took the wiggly worm thing from Nick.

“Ronald and Nancy Reagan, right?” Nick asked. “The cat and dog?”

Avery nodded.

“My gramma had dementia,” Nick said. He leaned back against the seats of the boat, staring up at the sky, crossing his legs and letting them hang over the edge of the boat. “She used to call me Bob - that’s my Dad - and she’d yell at me for treating my mom like crap.”

Avery looked at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“She was a tough ol’ thing,” he said nostalgically. “She was the one that lived in Jamestown with my grampa, the one I was tellin’ you about on the way here. The one that taught me how to fish.”

“Is that why you wanted to find the gear and go fishing?” Avery asked, and despite herself she found she felt kind of touched by the idea that Nick had wanted to feel more connected to his grandfather.

Nick shook his head, “I was just being nosy then, I didn’t really wanna go fishin’ or nothin’,” he answered. “I ain’t any good at fishing. I used to cry and throw all the fish I caught back.” He laughed, “When Grampa Doug taught me how to fish, he told my Gramma, the one that had the dementia - but this was before that started, he told her we’d come home with a week’s worth of dinners that day, but every fish I caught I was tossing back in the water and I cried when he caught them and made him throw them back, too, and they were pathetic little guys anyway, more like anchovies than real fish. Anyway, --” he paused here to catch his breath, “When it started getting dark, Grampa and I got in the truck and he drove down to the nearest grocery store and bought twelve frozen trout and we shoved our hooks through their frozen cheeks and drove on home with’em, telling Gramma he’d caught all them fish himself. She pretended not to notice they were frozen.”

Avery laughed.

“That’s love,” Nick said.

Avery smiled. Nick closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put his hands on his chest. She sat quietly for a moment, looking around. Then, “Are we gonna go anywhere on this thing?”

“Eventually,” he said.

“Eventually?”

“Gotta get you used to being on a boat before we go anywhere. I ain’t paddling this thing all the way out there,” he waved his hand like she had to indicate the lake, “and have you have a sudden panic attack and the next thing you know the boat’s turned over --”

“Turned over?” Avery said, “Like Titanic?”

“Slightly less dramatic,” he said. “More like the door in the end.”

“They both could’ve fit on that door,” Avery said.

“You sound like AJ,” Nick mumbled.

Avery stared at the stupid plastic worm. “Who’s AJ?”

Nick sat up, raised his eyebrow and stared at her. “AJ?” he said, “AJ McLean?”

Avery stared at him.

“Backstreet Boy AJ McLean.”

“Oh he’s one of your bandmates?” Avery said, “Why didn’t you just say that? Jeez. Don’t look at me like that.”

He had his incredulous face on.

“I don’t follow pop music,” she said with a shrug.

Nick laid back down and closed his eyes again.

“So how long until eventually?” she asked after several beats of silence had followed the closing of his eyes.

Nick shrugged. “I’ll know it when you get there. For now, just relax. It’s like a waterbed.”

“You have a waterbed at home?” she asked conversationally, leaning back the way he was.

“Nawh, I don’t. But Brian had one back in the day,” he added.

“Who’s Brian?” Avery asked.

Nick leaned up just enough to look at her, “You’re fuckin’ me, right?”

Avery smirked, “I told you. Rule number one. No sex in the safe house.”

“Haw-haw,” he said. “Seriously, though, dude. Brian Littrell? No?” Nick shook his head, “Damn, we gotta get you a CD when we get back to civilization.”