Another woman came up to greet him. I guess his disguise wasn’t working. He kept his composure rather well, taking a quick photo with her and exchanging a few polite words. He groaned in agony after she’d left, though. “Okay, take a photo with me Ben.” He got out his own cell phone now.
“What?”
“Pictures of me in this costume will be circulating on social media in about five minutes whether I want them to or not. It’s better when I can control which one goes out first.”
I smiled as he gave me little choice, sticking his phone out in front of us as he snapped a quick picture of the two of us looking ridiculous.
“Nah, that’s no good.” He decided and took another. Then another. Oh God, he was worse than a woman. Then I watched as he immediately tweeted and Instragramed the photo he liked best to all his millions of followers. “So, you’re really doing this thing,” he commented absentmindedly as he posted. “You’re sticking with this girl even though she’s pregnant with someone else’s kid.”
My blood temperature raised a notch. “When you put it that way it sounds like she got knocked up after we started dating. It happened before. And, yes, I’m doing this thing.”
“Whoa,” he quickly said, putting his phone away. “I didn’t mean to come across as crass or offensive or anything. Actually, I think it’s pretty gallant what you’re doing.”
“I’m not doing it to be gallant. I’m doing it because I love her.”
The person sitting on my opposite side, some random stranger, huffed under his breath. I gave him a sideways look. People were always listening in on conversations when ‘Nate West’ was present. For a moment, I sort of understood how annoying it must be for him to have to deal with people always trying to poke their nose in his personal business. I ignored the person who got up and walked off a moment later.
Nathanial sighed, adjusting his mullet wig. “Maybe gallant is the wrong word. I respect that you love her enough not to care about anything else. How about that? I’m trying to give you a compliment here. Something I’m not good at doing. Could you just accept it?”
“Okay. But I’m with her because I love her—as long as that’s understood.” I took a deep breath, relaxing some. I knew Nathanial meant well. He always meant well. He was a good guy. Ellie wouldn’t have settled for anything less. “I’m still living in North Carolina because I love her. I became a fucking real estate agent because I love her.” And I’m about to become a dad because I love her. I left that last part off. But wow, these were heavy realizations. The craziest part of all—I didn't even mind any of it. I was happy because I loved her.
Nathanial signaled the bartender, ordering two shots. “Let’s drink to that,” he said. “Because it’s not every day that you find someone like that.”
The bartender returned, pouring our shots. Though I was a little reluctant to start drinking already tonight, I accepted the shot, clinking my glass against Nathanial’s glass. Then I drank the liquid down in one quick motion. When I set the empty shot glass back down on the bar and turned around, Rhett was waving like an idiot in my direction. I scanned the stage and didn’t see Juniper up there with him.
“I better go see what he wants,” I said to Nathanial. I stood and pushed my way through the crowded bar. It seemed like people were restless, all waiting for the band to start playing. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, checking the time, realizing that it was past nine—everything was supposed to start at nine. What was the delay?
“Where’s Juniper?” were the first words out of Rhett’s mouth as I approached.
I’d just seen her on stage with Owen not long ago. “What do you mean where's Juniper?” I yelled up at him from the ground. “I just saw her up there with you all a few minutes ago.” It wasn’t like she would have wandered off like a toddler and gotten lost.
Ellie came hustling up on my right. Normally cheerful, she looked worried as fuck. And that meant I, too, was suddenly worried as fuck. Every cell in my body started buzzing on high alert.
“Rhett—she wasn't in the women's bathroom!” Ellie hollered. “Or the men's. I checked there too just in case.”
“What the hell is going on?” My heart raced. My worst fears were materializing. Where was she?
“What's going on?” Noah echoed, who'd noticed the commotion and had left his nearby table with Georgina to come check on us.
“We need to start playing and Juniper is missing,” Rhett clarified.
The questions and the speculation continued. No one was voicing it but everyone seemed to have the same fear—Quinton. Juniper would not just have disappeared without telling anyone.
I’d been trying to tell myself not to panic or jump to conclusions. But then I remembered something and my stomach sank to the floor. “That man!” I shouted at them all. At this point, Nathanial had joined us from the bar. “The man,” I repeated, turning to Nathanial, trying to spit out a sentence.
“What man?” Nathanial asked.
“The asshole sitting beside me who was listening in on our conversation. That man.”
Judging by the blank stare on his face, he didn't have a clue who I meant.
“Fuck.” I ran my hands through my hair, tugging the shit out of it, while my eyes scanned the crowd around me for either this person—that, frankly, I didn’t get a really good look at—or Juniper. “I got a funny vibe from the man sitting beside us. I ignored it. What if it was Quinton? What if he took her? What if—?” Oh God, I couldn't even think past that.
I left the others behind, pushing and shoving my way through the crowded bar, until my hands hit the doors and fresh air hit my face. I thought, maybe, just maybe, I still might have enough time to catch him taking her—if indeed that was what was happening.
But…nothing.
Like a crazy person, I frantically started searching the parking lot. A few people lingered outside, smoking cigarettes, laughing, chatting. But otherwise it was deserted and there was no sign of her. I asked a few strangers if they’d seen her or noticed anything strange—no one had.
It felt like my whole entire world was slipping through my fingers.
He'd taken her.
Quinton had taken her.
Somehow, I just knew he had. Every fiber of my being screamed it. He’d done it so easily too—right in front of all of us. I promised to protect her, and I’d failed. My eyes left her for only a couple minutes and now she was gone. I dropped to my knees struggling to keep it together, struggling to think straight, struggling to formulate a plan for what I needed to do next.
It was Noah that pulled me from the gravel, back to my feet. He and the others had joined me outside in the darkened parking lot. “Tell me everything you can about the person you saw.”
My stomach was acid. “Um…” Pinching my eyes shut, I tried to focus. “White. Man. Um, late twenties, maybe. My height. Suit.” Yes, he’d been wearing a suit. I think. “Blond… maybe? I don’t know. It’s not like I was studying him.”
“Okay,” Noah said, speaking calmly and quickly. “And we know she’s from Virginia? Right? So if he’s abducted her the car would have Virginia plates.” Noah took a breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Rhett and Nathanial—you two drive south, toward Highway 64. Be on the lookout for anyone driving fast, maybe recklessly, with Virginia plates. Ben and I will go toward the north bridge.”
Everyone knew there were only two bridges in and out of the OBX. Unless Quinton had kidnapped Juniper and taken her somewhere local, his only options were to drive either north or south, and he’d have to leave the islands over one of the two bridges. If we could catch them before they hit either bridge, we might just have a chance at saving her. Noah’s plan was a sound one.
“Aston Martin db11,” Rhett randomly added.
We all stared at him.
“What? I like cars,” he said. “And Juniper and I had a conversation about it. He might not be in that car, as he owns several, but of the ones Juniper mentioned him owning, that one is th
e fastest. That would be my getaway car.”
For the first time, I did not even care that Rhett had spent so much time with her that he knew something I didn’t know. I was thankful he had, thankful he’d asked her such dumb, random questions that I never would have thought to ask.
Noah nodded. He turned his attention to Ellie. Under the moonlight, my sister’s face was pale and her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she attentively hung onto every word Noah said. “Call the police for us,” he said to her. “Then get back inside, get on the mike, get every person in that damn bar searching for her, searching their phones for pictures of her or this guy. He was sitting close to Nathanial—someone had to have gotten a picture with him in it. Okay? Then find the bar manager. Figure out if they have security footage or whatever. Georgie—help her, keep your phone in your hand, and call me if you find anything. Alright. Let's go.”
Now that Noah had finished barking out directions, we all split up. Noah and I ran across the street to Noah’s parked Honda, where we both hurriedly clamored inside. He started the ignition and we sped off, heading north.
I said a silent pray that we would find her. That she and the babies would be safe and unharmed. We had to find her. I wouldn’t be able to survive if something happened to her.
CHAPTER 20:
JUNIPER
Quinton. Here. In the flesh.
I was in the middle of a conversation with Owen. We were debating about something trivial when I glanced across the crowded bar. I couldn’t help it, my eyes kept automatically seeking out Ben. He and Nathanial sat next to one another at the bar, deep in their own conversation. Singing in front of people was never going to be easy for me, and I was anxiously waiting on the clock. Only a couple more minutes until it was time to begin. Having Ben not far helped calm my nerves, if only slightly. I wanted to get his attention one more time, though, before I had to begin. Part of me was always craving just one more look or moment from him, but he wasn’t looking my way. And that was when I noticed the man sitting on Ben’s other side. Quinton.
His green eyes were dead locked on mine.
A very small, very sadistic smile, one I’d seen many times before, touched his lips as we made eye-contact.
Once, as a young girl, I’d been swinging too high on the swings. It had started to rain, but still I swung, desperate for a few more minutes of fun before I had to go home. When suddenly I lost my grip on the chains and fell several feet through the air, landing flat on my back in the mulch below. The air left my lungs, and for a couple scary moments I couldn’t breathe in or out. That was what seeing Quinton felt like. The inability to breathe. The inability to think. The inability to move.
I stood onstage completely paralyzed.
How had he found me? I’d been nothing but careful. More importantly—why the fuck was he sitting next to Ben? A split second later, he answered my question as he adjusted his body on his seat. The moment he did so, he let his suit jacket fall open for a fraction of a second, just enough time to expose the gun he held—pointed directly to his left and at Ben.
And suddenly I was at Quinton's mercy.
Outside, he mouthed.
If I listened and went outside, I'd be putting myself in danger. But if he somehow hurt Ben, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
“You should go outside,” Owen said, suddenly speaking up from beside me. “He only wants a chance to talk.”
“What did you say?” I turned to Owen—skinny, nerdy, innocent, unsuspecting Owen.
“He knows where you live.” Owen moved closer, his nose uncomfortably close to my nose. A nasty side I'd never seen emerged as he glared at me. “He knows where Ben works, where Rose goes to school, that Georgina is his sister and that she's pregnant. He knows everything about you and about Ben. If he doesn't get his chance to talk with you tonight then tomorrow he starts hurting the people you care about.”
“How could you, Owen?” I whispered. I was beyond stunned, but mostly appalled.
“I have my reasons. Now outside,” he growled in a low tone. “Or I give Quinton the signal that you're unwilling to corporate.”
I glanced to where Quinton was sitting. But he was gone from his spot beside Ben. He could be anywhere now. Ben and Nathanial were still talking, they'd noticed nothing.
It all came down to the fact that I couldn't risk Ben's life, or Georgina's, or Ellie's, or anyone's in this bar. Quinton was here because of my mistakes. He was my problem to deal with. I had to face him. I had to tell him the truth. I had to hope that we could speak like rational adults.
“Okay,” I said as I followed Owen off stage. My stomach churned with every step. I was not ready to face Quinton. But I knew, deep down, no matter what, he wouldn't hurt me while I was carrying his children. I had to believe that.
The outside air felt thick and heavy. The buzzing of insects, the muffled beat of the bar’s music, and the laughs of a few people lingering somewhere in the parking lot filled my ears. Owen led me amongst the cars, many of them double parked, and some parked in dirt and sand—as the parking lot couldn’t accommodate the number of patrons here for tonight’s show. He led me straight to Quinton.
I stopped walking at the sight of my ex, keeping several feet between us.
“Juniper,” he purred, his voice as soothing and suave as ever. “You’re looking…fun tonight. Trying out a singing career, are we?” He flicked his hand, like he was shooing off an insect, in a gesture meant for Owen. “Go,” he told him. “I’ll deposit the second portion of your money into the account you gave me tomorrow.”
Owen didn’t wait around. He quickly backed away and left us.
Part of me almost expected Quinton to explode with anger or yelling, even though he’d never been much of a yeller, but he continued to remain calm. I guess he didn’t have to yell. A calm Quinton terrified me just the same as an irate one.
“I have one question for you June—have you let him fuck you?” He spoke matter-of-factly but lingered on the word him as if Ben were the vilest person alive. “Have you let him touch you the way I once touched you? Let him feel you from the inside? Let him spread his seed inside you?”
I swallowed hard, an icy shiver running through me. Quinton always picked his words carefully. And just like the way his hands used to feel on my throat, his words had a similar effect. “Yes. I have.”
“While pregnant with my children?” he added. “Owen told me you have twins growing inside you. My twins. My twins tainted by another man. You disappoint me. You know what happens when you disappoint me.”
“I’m not yours to disappoint anymore,” I told him as confidently as I could manage. Even after all this time, he still had such an easy way of frightening me. But I’d grown in the time since I’d left him. I was stronger now.
Hold your own, I told myself.
“I’m his. I love him now,” I said. “So, yes, he gets to touch me and spread his ‘seed’ in me any way he likes. And the twins aren’t yours. They’re his.”
Quinton’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know they’re mine.” He let out a low hiss. “And don’t backtalk me ever again.” He reached in his pocket, momentarily making me freeze as I thought perhaps he was about to pull out the gun I saw earlier. But he pulled out a cellphone instead. I might have been less terrified by such a harmless electronic device, but he flashed the screen in my direction. On it there was a picture of a young girl—
Rose. Ben’s youngest sister.
“Does this little girl look familiar?” he asked.
“What do you want?” I demanded. “I’ve left you. It’s over. What does Ben’s little sister have to do with us? Nothing. She’s innocent—”
“Stop talking,” he hissed. “And get in my fucking car.” He pointed to the car door right beside where he stood. “Or this little girl will be the first person I hurt. Owen isn’t the only idiot I’ve paid to do my bidding in the town. It doesn’t take much money to get people to do what you want. I’ve been watching you f
or weeks. I know all your friends. Rhett, Noah, Sydney—I could go on and on. I know their friends even. And their family. House addresses. Favorite TV shows. You name it, I know it. And this little girl right here—” He held up his phone with her picture one more time. “—will be the person I hurt first if you don’t get in the car.”
Did I have a choice?
I got in his car.
CHAPTER 21:
BEN
This wasn’t working. Twenty minutes down the road and we were already crossing the Wright Memorial Bridge. So far, we’d seen plenty of Virginia plates, passing them all, as I scanned the drivers of each and every vehicle for the man from the bar. Which was nearly impossible in the dark. We’d been keeping in touch with Ellie. The police had arrived now. They’d found a clear picture of Quinton in someone’s cell phone photos. Ellie had even sent it to me. I knew exactly who I was looking for. But looking for him felt like looking for a single grain of sand at the bottom of an Olympic sized pool.
“Oh God, what if…” I began. Insurmountable worry gripped me again.
“No. Concentrate, Ben. Concentrate on the cars we pass,” Noah demanded.
I had new respect for Noah. He’d taken charge in the parking lot when I myself had started falling apart. And ever since then, it had been Noah keeping us both focused and Noah’s optimism that had been unwavering and unfaltering. My confidence was so fragile, I knew that at any given moment I might come unhinged. I felt incredibly lucky to have Noah here with me now.
“Here comes another Virginia plate.”
At this point we were scanning every car we passed, but still paying extra attention to the Virginia plates. It was a beat-up Ford truck, probably older than me. The person driving was driving rather fast and kept cutting over the middle line. It took Noah an extra minute to catch the truck.
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