Jumping up on her hind-legs, Prin places her paws against my chest, eager to lick my face in greeting. Luckily, I turn my head at the last minute.
“No,” I admonish, but my tone isn’t very convincing. She ignores me and licks wherever she can reach—in this case my ear—instead.
I scrunch up my face in response but scratch her behind the ears in spite of myself.
Standing up, I fasten the deadbolt, then head to the laundry room where I keep all her things. I replace her water with some of the fresh bottled water her spoiled ass likes and feed her. She instantly begins eating like she’s starved, but from the looks of her, the puppy-sitter has been doubling up on her feedings.
I make a note to discuss this with her. I don’t want an obese and unhealthy dog. I’d like to keep her around as long as possible; hopefully, even reuniting her with her mom one day.
Frowning, I watch as she scarfs down her food, wondering if she’ll even remember Valley after so long. I certainly hope so, but fuck if I know how a canine’s mind works. As much as I’ve been gone lately, I’m lucky she even remembers me.
Shuffling into my room, I get straight to work, mindful of the fact I promised Jameson I’d return soon. I grab a few changes of clothes, a photo I have of Valley and me from the night of prom, and I finish off a few chores that I’ve ignored lately. After washing a few glasses that have been left in the sink for more than a few days, I toss some fruit that’s gone bad, and tie off the plastic bag, placing it by the front door.
When I tell Prin goodbye, her tail stops wagging and she lets loose a pitiful yelp in protest. Then her eyes widen and go all glassy like she’s trying to make me feel bad.
It works.
“Sorry, girl. I’m trying to help your mommy. You remember her, don’t you?” I pull the photo of Valley out of my back pocket and hold it out for Prin to see, knowing full well she has no idea what the hell I’m saying.
I feel less guilty in the process at least.
“Bye, girl. Love you,” I repeat one last time as I leave the apartment.
With exception to her, the place isn’t like a home at all. And besides her, there’s nothing here even worth coming home to.
~XoXo~
The buzzing of my phone drones on endlessly. Having forgotten it in my car once I made it to my apartment, I hear the nagging vibration as I approach the driver’s door. It’s the long pattern that corresponds with a call.
I take a seat, locking the doors before reaching for the device. Another call is subsiding.
Fifteen missed calls.
All in the course of about thirty minutes.
Clicking on the notifications, I see there are several from Jameson, and about an equal amount from Lyra. The fact that both of them are calling me non-stop is alarming. My chest suddenly ignites with the burning of anticipation—and not the good kind.
Jameson could only be calling to deliver bad news.
Lyra has refused to speak to me since I took off this time, probably bitter because it reminds her I did the same thing when Mom got sick. She’d only be calling to deliver bad news too.
Could someone in the family have passed?
Dad?
Nana Rose?
Lyra’s name pops up on the screen again, the phone vibrating in my hand.
“Sis?” My voice is constricted, even to my own ears.
“Gray,” her words rush out urgently, “I was just leaving work, closing up, and there was a car parked right beside mine. Except for my car and the other, the lot was empty so I didn’t think anything of it. But two men got out, one rounding each end of the car toward me—”
She’s speaking so quickly I can hardly understand her, but at the same time, I know exactly what she’s trying to say. I interrupt her.
“Are you safe?”
“I...I don’t know,” she stammers, “I got into the car, and locked the door just as one was reaching for the handle. I pulled out, and I think I ran over the foot of one of them. I saw him stumbling into their car in my rearview as I pulled out.”
“Good. Stay calm. I’m going to call the sheriff. You stay on the line with me; don’t hang up,” I order, my mind reeling and only capable of spouting off short sentences.
“Okay,” she mumbles.
“Don’t go back to the house. Where is Dad?” I ask, pulling out Valley’s phone which I’ve been carrying around with me everywhere since she was taken.
“He’s staying with Nana Rose this weekend.”
Guilt and relief pop up at the same time, but I shove them back down again. My sister needs me.
Don’t let your emotions get in the way, Gray.
“Do you have somewhere you can go besides home? A friend you can stay with?” I ask.
It takes an insane amount of self-control to keep my voice level. I’m so fucking on edge, but I need to make her think I’m calm, my thoughts collected. If she hears the fear in my voice, she might let it overwhelm her as well.
“Gray,” she admonishes, “I don’t have any friends here. The one or two I did have went off to college,” she whispers sadly.
I have to fight the second wave of guilt. “There’s nowhere you can think to go? No one you feel safe with?” My voice does slightly rise in desperation now.
“Wait. I think I know.”
“Don’t tell me over the phone. Someone could have these phones tapped.”
“Tapped?” she shrieks.
“Start driving to their place. Don’t text them or let them know you’re on your way. Just show up. Hide your car when you get there. Make sure it’s out of sight. And Lyra…”
“Yeah?” she squeaks.
“Just because I’m calling the sheriff’s office doesn’t mean I trust them. If I know who’s after you, and I think I have a pretty damn good idea, I wouldn’t put it past them to have authorities in their pocket already. If not, I’m sure they can get them there pretty quick for the right price. For the sake of having a little faith in the authorities though, I’m going to call it in. Are you on your way to the spot yet?” I ask before I hit send for the Central Valley Sheriff’s Office line.
“Yeah. ‘Bout five minutes out,” she says on an exhale.
She reminds me I’ve been holding my breath as well.
“Central Valley Sheriff’s Office,” comes from the phone at my other ear. I’ve been away for a few years but I recognize the officer as Sam, a dude I went to school with. He was a few grades above me but it’s a slight relief to know he’s worked there for a few years now and I’m not dealing with a rookie.
“Hi. My sister was just attacked outside her workplace. Two men tried to take her. They were in a…hold on a second.” I speak into the other phone. “What kind of vehicle, Sis? Make? Model? Year? Color?”
“A newer model black SUV, like a Suburban I think,” her voice trembles.
I repeat the information back to the officer, along with the approximate time it happened.
“Where does your sister work, what’s her name?” the officer asks.
“Lyra Knightley. She works at Harrison’s Grocery,” I reply.
“Um, Gray,” Lyra interjects from my other ear. “I work at, well, I’ve been waitressing at the diner. I was walking out the side-door into the employee parking area.”
I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead and sliding in between the lines that have formed there. Does that mean she’s working two jobs? What the fuck for? I send them more than enough money. So much has changed since I left home, but I remind myself that now’s not the time to dwell on that.
I spout off the correct information to the officer.
“Have Lyra come on over to file a report. She’ll be safe here.”
Unable to hold in my scoff, I’m sure he hears it.
“You have my word,” he reassures me, but I know better than to trust anyone. Hell, sometimes I’m surprised I even trust myself.
“She’s already left town. They scared her right off, bro. You’ll just have to locate th
e two fuckers before I do. She’ll give a statement when I’m there to sit through it with her.”
I hang up on him, dropping the phone in my lap and focusing on the other. “Just let me know you’re safe and that everything is okay when you get there,” I tell my baby sister.
“Pulling in now,” she reassures me.
“Anyone home?” I crank my car, putting it in reverse to head back to Jameson’s.
“Yeah, he’s here.”
“He?” I let slip before I can stop myself.
“Yes, he. And he’s already walking out onto the porch so I’m in the clear,” she remarks with annoyance. I hear her car letting out the annoying ding, ding, ding alerting the driver as they open the door that they need to turn off the lights.
Growling at the thought of her at a man’s house, but also kind of relieved knowing he’s from my hometown—which means he probably owns a gun, I remind her, “I love you. Stay in touch, but don’t let anyone know where you are and ask the same of him.”
“Wait…” she exclaims before I hang up.
“Yes?” I grit out, sensing some inquisitive harassment or a chew-out session commencing.
“What are you involved in that you’d have people trying to grab me, Gray? And don’t lie and tell me that’s not what this was. What exactly are you caught up in? Mom would be so disappointed in you.”
Her words sting, and while that’s something that I worry about often, I don’t necessarily believe them. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Mom may have been upset about me getting mixed up in dangerous and unlawful activities, but if she knew the reasons behind it, I’d like to believe she’d understand. After all, she was a hopeless romantic. The proof is in the vast romance novel collection still overflowing from random bookshelves throughout our house.
“It’s complicated, Lyra.”
“But it has to do with her doesn’t it?”
She’s not stupid. She can put two and two together and realize I disappeared not too long after V did. I had told my sister I was in love with V, and she didn’t believe me. I could tell she assumed it would pass and I’d move on, preferably to Grace Laurent, my childhood best friend. Maybe she finally gets it now.
My silence is all the ammo she needs. “So, what? You put your family’s lives in danger over someone you didn’t even know that long? Really, Gray? I wish I could go back in time and never befriend that girl.”
Blame it on lack of sleep. Blame it on stress. Blame it on me being half crazy with worry and dread and near hopelessness. Anger and agitation get the best of me, and like a volcano erupting all at once, I begin chewing her out without putting much thought into my words or the consequences that may befall afterward. “Shut your mouth, Lyra. You have no goddamn idea what you’re talking about!” I shout into the phone, using the one curse word I never use. “I fucking told you, I loved her. What do you expect from me? To sit back and continue on with my life knowing that someone has been chasing her and her mother, pretty much her entire life and wants her dead? I wouldn’t do that if someone was after you! Stop being petulant. I am so, so fucking sorry that everything’s gotten out of hand and this part of my life has bled over into the part you and Dad are in. I’ve fought so hard to keep that from happening. Just don’t blame it on Valley. She didn’t ask me to fall for her. In fact, she probably would have asked me not to.”
I don’t even realize the bomb I’ve dropped on her until she asks, “Valley?”
I curse under my breath. Might as well tell her now. They’ve already come after her too. V’s sperm donor—as she calls him—has already found her and found out about my sister as well. Now every person I love is in danger. My entire life is imploding, so I may as well clue her in. Maybe then she might understand the reasons behind my motives. Maybe she’ll even forgive me eventually—someday.
“Look, I can’t explain everything right now because I’ve got a lot of shit going on. Sloane wasn’t her name. She had an alias when she lived here, and this was the longest she’d ever lived somewhere, and you were the only friend she had ever had. It was the only opportunity she was given to grow close to anyone. Can you imagine what that kind of loneliness must feel like?” I throw in, so maybe she feels a little remorse for ratting us out the night of prom and effectively causing V to be uprooted again in the process.
For a few moments, she’s struck speechless. Then she attempts to start up the argument all over again. It’s almost like she’s jealous and resentful someone else has gotten her doting older brother’s attention; like she blames Valley for the growing rift in our relationship. And she shouldn’t. This is on me. It was my choice alone.
“You have a lot of shit going on? More important things than two dudes trying to snatch me up? Fine. I thought the Knightley code was always ‘family first’ and all that, but I guess not.” She sniffs, apparently hurt and still not thinking about anyone but herself.
“Lyra, let me tell you something so we can get it straight once and for all. I love my family. But V, she’s as much my family as you are…just in a different way. She’s my family in my fucking heart. I’d do anything to protect each of you. And the only thing that could be more important than someone trying to abduct you, is if someone had done the same to her and actually succeeded. So just chew on that for a while before you keep trying to guilt trip me.” I insert a tone of warning into my words; a caution not to keep throwing out barbs with such cruel intent.
She gasps. “So does that mean...” She lets the question trail off.
My throat constricts as I fight to voice the answer. “Yes. She’s been gone for eight days now.”
“Are you sure she didn’t just, I don’t know, leave?”
“Considering I saw the security footage of someone knocking her out and dragging her into a Suburban similar to the one you just saw, I’m pretty damn sure.” Glancing at the time and realizing I’ve been gone much longer than the hour I promised Jameson, I bite out, “I’ve got to go. Love you.”
“I love you too…I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I,” she pauses in thought, “hope you find her.”
I nod, knowing she can’t see me but lacking the energy to say anything else, allowing the line to go dead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Valley
A FEW HOURS—or more— after I initially tried out my reverse-psychology persuasions on Jerome, and each of the two Assholes has taken their evening breaks, Dimitri leaves again to speak with someone upstairs. That’s twice they’ve mentioned other people upstairs, which means they aren’t the only bad guys in the building. If Gray and Jameson do somehow find out where I'm being held, I have no doubt they’d storm through the front doors ready to get me back.
But now I’m scared it would all be in vain and they’d end up dying anyway. If that’s all that’s going to happen, I’d rather they didn’t try to save me. I couldn’t handle knowing I’d been the cause of killing them both. A shudder wracks through my body as I imagine my final moments before death, learning no one is coming to save me because all my loved ones are now dead.
Stop it, Valley. Cut that shit out now, Gray’s voice commands, echoing through my head. It’s enough to snap me out of the self-induced pity party.
Focusing on a breathing exercise and calling forth happier memories to replace the bad ones I had conjured from my imagination seems to help. Thank God no one else seems to have noticed I was panicking; for the most part, I’m some invisible entity rooted to this room.
As soon as Dimitri heads out the door, Jerome stands, heading toward the edge of the room where I’m perched on the bed with hands and feet bound as usual. Reaching into his pocket, he grabs something that rattles as it’s removed. He holds out the white bottle of prenatal vitamins so that I can see them—probably so that he can show me he’s not trying to poison me—before removing the lid, shaking out a large pill, and offering it to me. The thought occurs to me, just because it comes from a bottle with a Prenatal label, doesn’t necessarily mean he hasn�
��t replaced the pills with something that will kill me. But I tamp any distrustful thoughts down out of pure desperation.
I open my mouth up like a baby bird as he drops the large tablet inside. When I begin to choke, he offers me a few sips of the nearby bottle of water, surprising me since the beverage is always kept slightly out of my reach, constantly taunting me with the fact the most basic of necessities are unobtainable.
I stare up into his bright green eyes before he can move away. “Thank you,” I say with sincerity. Then I quickly add, “You’re a good man.”
Do I believe that? No. Not really. But he’s the lesser of the three evils I’ve been in contact with during my time here. Maybe the words will give him something to think about. Sometimes labeling someone with an honorable title, even when they don’t necessarily deserve it, is enough to make the person pause for thought. A well-placed compliment can cause someone to question everything they’ve done to deserve such praise.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard. All these little snippets of information Mom once made me learn, things I once thought were useless studies of humans and their behaviors, may actually become useful.
He gulps in response to my comment but says nothing as he slides the bottle back into his pocket and slips away. Apparently, just at the right time too because Dimitri chooses this exact moment to return. His disheveled and greasy, dirty-blonde hair is falling over one eye, but I can’t miss the chilling glint that shines through. The sinister grin on his face—directed straight at me— is enough to make my stomach flip. And his laugh that follows? It makes my heart spasm.
Lips settling into a thin line, I stare back at him defiantly as I await the bad news I’m sure is about to follow. His grin continues to stretch across his face until he looks like some maniacal version of the Mad-Hatter. “We’ve got a surprise for you,” he alludes, waggling his eyebrows.
Love on the Rise: Book Two of The Against All Odds Series Page 24