The Memory Painter

“I agree with you,” Linz muttered. Seeing Bryan inside that room had broken something inside of her and removed any doubts she had about her father.

Bryan reached out for Barbara’s phone. “Mom, wait. No calls.”

Barbara gaped at him. “You were kidnapped, Bryan. I’m calling the police and then our lawyer.”

“Please don’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

Linz and Bryan’s eyes met in the rearview mirror. Linz answered, “Because it will be our word against his. There’s no record Bryan was ever there. My father will erase every trace of him.”

“We can’t just pretend nothing happened!” Barbara shouted.

Bryan put his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. “We won’t. Just give us some time. I need you and Dad to go away for the weekend, check into a hotel.”

“You’re joking. I’m not leaving you.”

Bryan insisted, “I need to know that you both will be safe. Linz and I are going to deal with her father.”

“The man who had you kidnapped? Honey, you can’t fix this by yourself. Right now we need the police.”

“And the police can’t do anything. You don’t understand what I’m dealing with. I need to do this my way!” Bryan paused. When he spoke again, he sounded calmer. “Someday I’ll tell you everything, but right now I need you to trust me.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way, until Linz pulled up in front of Barbara’s house.

Barbara turned to Bryan and tried again. “This is not going to fly with your father. He just won’t leave like this.”

“Then you have to convince him,” Bryan said.

“Don’t put this on me. Come talk to him. He’ll be home any minute.”

“He’ll only ask questions I can’t answer.” Bryan insisted, “You need to go pack an overnight bag and be ready to leave when he gets home. You can explain things to him in the car.”

Barbara put her hand over her mouth. She looked like she was about to break down.

Bryan got out and opened her door. “Just give me a few days. I’m sorry to put you through this. Thank you for getting me out.” Bryan tried to reassure her. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I want a number where I can reach you, and I want you to check in with me every day.” Barbara added, “You have until Monday. Then we’re going to do this my way.”

Bryan nodded, willing to agree to anything that might buy him and Linz more time. He gave her a hug. “Please do what I asked,” he reminded her.

She squeezed him tight. “Be careful.”

He got into the passenger seat and rolled down the window. “Tell Dad I love him. I’ll call you soon.” He tapped Linz’s leg—a silent cue for her to drive—and waved good-bye to his mother. As they drove off, he leaned his seat back and let out a deep breath.

Linz looked over at him. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t see any other way.”

“No, you did the right thing.”

They drove on in silence, each of them dealing with the shock of the last twenty-four hours. No more walls stood between them.

Bryan closed his eyes and asked, “Whose car is this?”

“Finn’s. He helped. How the hell are you even awake with midazolam in your system?”

“I remembered a life as a yogi. Mind over matter.”