We reversed and eased out of the parking lot like two regular people, heading back to normality after visiting a sick friend or relative. We passed nurses beginning their shifts and all I wanted to do was bang on the window to get their attention, but what would that achieve? I’d heard the internal click of the door locks, imprisoning me in my metal cage. So far the evil bastard had covered his bases well. He’d thought this out. Planned well. I’d need to be on extra-high alert for a window of opportunity to escape.
What would Harley do? Shit. Harley! Glancing at the clock on the dash, I figured he’d probably be gearing up to leave the apartment to come pick me up. What would he do when I failed to appear? When staff failed to find me? Would he call Viper? It only consoled me slightly. By then I could be miles away, hurt or…worse.
Even with military resources at their fingertips, time would be their enemy. God. Once we were out of the hospital parking lot, how would they ever find me? I could only hope, because I hadn’t been killed yet, that somebody wanted me alive for whatever sick reason they had.
A bargaining chip? That idea suddenly had me stiffen further. My trashed apartment. Harley’s shooting. Were they connected to this? It made sense. If that were the case, I definitely had become a pawn. To what extent and for how long, I couldn’t be sure. I remained alive for now. That would have to do.
Chapter Seven
Harley
Look into it more? Damn straight they would look into it more. In the meantime, I needed a cell or a hospital phone so I could call Viper. Remembering the card he’d given me earlier in the day, I found it my jeans pocket, relieved to feel the smooth cardboard.
“I want every available person you have scouring this hospital until she’s found. Do you understand?”
The nurse cowered slightly at my tone, but I couldn’t care about that. She didn’t know what my gut screamed at me.
Nodding, she padded away.
“Wait!” I called before she disappeared through the door again. “I need to call a friend to let him know. Can I use a phone?”
“Go back out through those double doors,” she meekly said, pointing behind me. “Follow the hallway to the end and turn left. The nurses’ station is halfway down. They’ll let you make a call.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t wait for her to reply. I took off, anger building with each stride. This reeked of my drama transferring over to Mac. I’d brought this to her. If the cocksucker who’d attempted to kill me and then ransacked her apartment had anything to do with this, I would remove his head from his shoulders.
Viper needed to get here pronto and organize to have the cameras scanned. Her disappearance would show up somewhere. We needed to know just what we were dealing with.
Could I be barking up the wrong tree? Panicking for nothing? No. Every cell in my body screamed that she’d met with foul play. It sickened me, but I had to keep my head on straight. I had to dig deep for the soldier inside to take over and not the man who had feelings for his stunning nurse.
I was on a mission, and perhaps I truly had lost the plot, but where Mac was concerned, I didn’t want to take any chances. If she turned up in the next few minutes, all would be well and good, but if my hunch proved correct, each second counted.
Arriving at my destination, I placed both hands on the counter and interrupted the woman working at her computer.
“Excuse me. I’ve been told I could use your phone to make a call. It’s important.”
Eying me for a moment, she picked up the handset and offered it to me with a short smile. ”Dial nine first and then the number.”
Grateful, I nodded at her, pressed nine, and proceeded to dial my friend’s number.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“It’s me, Harley. We have a problem.”
Explaining the situation, he listened quietly until I finished.
Being the cool, calm, and collected warrior he was, he asked, “You sure she’s not tied up with a patient?”
“If that were the case, she’d be contactable. Someone would know her whereabouts. Besides, she hasn’t been seen since leaving to grab a coffee downstairs.”
“How long has it been?”
“I’ve been waiting nearly an hour, but she hasn’t been seen for at least a couple of hours.” I know it sounded crazy. How could she vanish? What if she’d been called to another wing of the hospital? It did happen, right? That way, the people in her department wouldn’t have seen her. But surely she’d have to let someone know. Everything in me screamed trouble. Better to overreact than ignore my gut instinct.
“Call whoever can authorize us visual on the security cameras,” I ordered, my voice surprising me with its calm yet commanding tone.
Viper replied with a curt, “On it. See you soon.”
He hung up, leaving me with the desperate hope that we’d find something on the video footage.
I couldn’t lose her. Not happening. Not on my watch. Not after…shit.
Raking both hands across my scalp, briefly pulling on my hair, I found my way back to ICU to await further information. I doubted they’d find any. Hospitals always ran on skeleton staff. As if there would be even one person to spare to search every square inch of the place.
No. Answers wouldn’t be found until Viper arrived. I’d just have to sit tight and simmer down. Easier said than done. Steeling myself against the vivid images of the night before and how Mac had surrendered herself to me, I squeezed the edges of the chair tightly, tamping down my heart’s attempt at knocking down the emotionless wall I fought to keep erected.
A quick vision of her suffering already at the hands of evil had me standing and pacing.
The deserted waiting room allowed me the space to stride out my frustration. Viper had better bring the God-damned cavalry with him because we’d need all the help we could get.
Seek and destroy. I remember hearing that mantra in my dream-self’s head before walking in on Reno strapped to a chair. Fat lot of good that did. I wouldn’t let it happen again.
Shoot and ask questions later. Kill or be killed. No hesitation. Each second that ticked by without any trace of Mac felt like a countdown to doom. My instincts were on fire, every cell on high alert.
Each time the ICU door opened, my heart leapt with hope that a stunning blonde would walk through, gifting me with her killer smile. Each time she didn’t, I knew my fear had been well-founded.
It seemed forever before I turned and spotted my friend striding toward me.
“Hey man. I got here as quick as I could.” A slap on the back failed to appease my jittery nerves.
“Jesus, man. I need some asshole’s heart ripped from their chest,” I growled. “What have you got for me?”
“Hospital security is sending through footage as we speak. Do you think it’s related to Reno’s captor? He was the leader of the cell we brought down. That has to have some kickback.”
Letting all the air out of my lungs in a rush, I conceded, “It’s looking more and more like it. If that’s the case, Mac is in deep shit. Fuck, Viper. How the hell do we deal with this?”
Before he could respond, his cell pealed out into the quiet.
“Viper.”
I listened for any sign of what was being said on the end of the line, but with my friend’s one word answers it proved difficult.
The call ended and he pinned me with a hard look.
“Sit down.”
“Bullshit I will. Tell me. Where is Mac?”
Rage singed my insides. I could tell this wouldn’t be good. My teeth clenched together, my jaw a rigid plane of knotted muscle. A pivotal moment where everything would change.
Staring at Viper’s face for any sign of distress proved futile. He had wiped all emotion away and stood rigid—almost inhuman. Pity I couldn’t hold the same composure. My face scrunched up, eyes squinting as he began.
“A male of Eastern appearance, dressed in doctor’s scrubs entered an elevator with her. They both exited at the base
ment and got in a black SUV. My guy’s running the plates now.”
I almost collapsed as my legs threatened to give out. Catching my balance, I skulked to the wall of the small waiting room and pounded my fist into it. Once. Twice. Three times.
A hand on my shoulder and a forceful pull backward stopped me from punching it a fourth time.
“I know you’re raging right now, man, but we need to focus. Save your anger for the dead man walking.”
Damn straight. The hunter just became the hunted. So help me, I couldn’t wait to give him a slow, painful death.
Chapter Eight
Mac
The sun dimmed and so did my hope. We’d been traveling nearly an hour. Inside his black SUV was another man of Middle Eastern appearance whom I hadn’t noticed until we were out onto the main road. He also had a gun aimed at me.
I hadn’t spoken and neither had my captors. With each minute that ticked by, I became more anxious. Being locked in a vehicle on the move to God knows where didn’t bode well for me. By the time anyone realized I’d vanished from the hospital I would probably be too far gone to be found. Blood surged in my ears at the hopelessness of the situation. I should have raised the alarm before getting locked in the car. Would the gunman really have opened fire on innocent staff and patients? And more to the point, should I have called his bluff? Ugh. Too late now.
When Harley arrived to pick me up, I wouldn’t be there. What would he do? I had a fair idea, but how in the hell would I ever be found? How much time did I have left before they killed me? Although, if they wanted me dead, why bind my hands and drive me anywhere? They’d obviously been watching me for a while.
I sank back into the seat, watching the sign for Detroit appear. Ugh. Really? With a population of over 670,000, it would be easy for us to disappear. Maybe the plan entailed that. Why though? I had a million questions running through my brain, and the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if they would use me as leverage to draw Harley out.
Exhaustion began to set in, but I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of falling asleep. I needed all my faculties. I needed to wait for my captors to let their guards down. While not wanting to risk my safety further, staying focused might be my only chance.
Finally, the vehicle jerked left as we crawled through the city center to a rough part of town, turning into an underground parking garage beneath an unassuming two story building wedged between a laundromat and a vacant, boarded-up shop.
Winding down his window, the driver spoke in a foreign accent into an intercom. A second later the large security door barring anyone access lifted, allowing us entry.
My hands shuddered and a gag erupted from my throat as bile swirled up my esophagus in despair. My throat burned. While we’d been on the road and moving, I’d been relatively safe. And alive. Now, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. Even being used as leverage, they could do whatever they pleased to me. I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare and be back in the staff cafeteria at the hospital, awaiting a coffee.
If this had anything to do with Harley, why take me? Why not target him alone as they had when he’d been shot? They obviously wanted him dead, and had ample opportunity to take him out. What game were they playing? They didn’t need me as a bargaining chip.
Remembering my cell sat in the leg pocket of my scrubs, I prayed they wouldn’t search me and confiscate it. If given the opportunity, I could send an SOS to Viper. Thank God, I had his number in my address book.
Drawing his gun out again and aiming it at me again as we parked in the almost vacant lot, the driver spat, “Get out!”
Staring down the barrel of metal, a stabbing pain quickly shot through my chest. He could pull the trigger at any moment if he chose to and I’d lose everything. My breathing had practically stopped in fear. Now that we had arrived at our destination, the reality of the situation gripped me hard. I froze.
And then the unthinkable happened. My cell vibrated to alert me of an incoming call. Shit. Shit. The twisted eyes of the goon next to me widened in manic anger, and before I knew what was happening, he had the gun pressed to my temple and screamed, “Give me your cell! Now!”
The dig of metal had me whimpering as my fingers fumbled into my pants to retrieve my cell. Before I handed it to him, I momentarily glanced at the screen.
Char.
Snatching it out of my hand, he opened his door and threw it as far as he could. I watched in horror as it smashed on the concrete, my lifeline gone.
Turning back, he barked at me in his native tongue, and while I couldn’t understand the words, the venom with which he spoke drove a line of terror up my spine.
Without warning, he flicked his hand and drove the butt of the gun into my head, hard, jarring me to the right. Pain sizzled through my scalp and my hands instinctively came up to cradle the point of impact. He still screamed, but changed his lingo to English at the last moment.
“Get out! Get out!”
My head throbbed. Both men exited and hovered, waiting for me to follow them. When I faltered through sheer terror, one man leaned in and ripped the seatbelt off before dragging me from the car. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t think. Both men spoke to each other in a foreign tongue.
Tears began falling from the blow I’d taken, and the very real dread of being led to my death. I’d had no time to say goodbye to anyone. My parents were happily vacationing. Living life to the fullest without a care in the world. If I died, their world would come crashing down.
I stumbled, unable to walk in a straight line with the way both men pushed me along, my shattered cell crunching under my flats as I attempted to keep up.
My body and mind were disjointed. Not working together. My brain tried to come up with a plan, but couldn’t, because at the same time, it registered the pain of my attack and had a hard time focusing on anything other than the agony in the side of my head.
We approached an elevator and hustled inside when the door opened. The building didn’t look tall enough to have one, but what did I know? It flicked through my brain in a millisecond and I internally laughed at my stupid observation in such a desperate time. Perhaps my mind had shifted into survival mode to protect me against a total meltdown.
In another few seconds we were exiting into a large warehouse-type room. Two other similar-looking men stopped what they were doing to watch us. Four against one.
My captors threw me into the middle of the space and began raving like lunatics, waving their arms around as they rattled off in their own language. The other two closed toward me, causing me to stiffen and then cower. Insufferable odds.
My earlier tears had stopped momentarily but flowed freely again as I watched and waited.
Four hate-filled faces surrounded me as I spun each time they inched closer.
“Please!” I begged. “Don’t hurt me.” No more than the first asshole already had with his gun.
The tallest guy wearing scruffy jeans and a black shirt laughed at my futile plea. He crept forward until he stood before me. His eyes bored into me, dark as night. Evil as sin. He lifted a hand and I flinched, expecting him to harm me, but instead he held my chin steady. With an unconvincing grin, he spoke.
“So. You are our lure, hmm?” Moving my chin from side to side, he studied me, his eyes dropping to my nurse’s scrubs, the stupid smile plastered in place. I wanted nothing more than to wipe it off with my fist, but it would only get me killed sooner. I needed to remain compliant for now. To assess my situation and figure out why they were using me as a bargaining chip.
The word ‘leverage’ played over and over on repeat in my mind. It definitely had something to do with Harley. Did that mean they wanted to trade me for him?
I couldn’t do it. He’d been through too much already. I couldn’t feed him to the wolves. If I had to sacrifice myself, then so be it. I would. Even though I didn’t want to die, I’d had a good life thus far, apart from Nick and I, but that seemed small fry compared to the battles Harley
had been involved in. I’d saved many lives in my career. My own existence hadn’t been in vain.
Staring my would-be killer down, I steeled my spine, determined that if my fate already involved death, then I wouldn’t go down cowering.
For a brief second, his eyes flickered at my change in demeanor, and then he licked his lips as if my slight show of courage turned him on in a sick way.
Repulsed by his hands on me, I pulled back but didn’t get very far. A fierce slap to my face made me cry out, as the force of it threw my head to the right. My neck jarred, bringing about sharp shooting pain at the base of my skull. I needed to simmer down and comply, but that proved easier said than done when everything in me screamed to fight for my life.
The guy who had gripped my chin and slapped me apparently didn’t like my resistance regardless of his continued smirk. He towed me as if I were nothing but a bag of garbage to a wooden chair sitting against a large, dirty window. He threw me down and barked at one of his goons, who disappeared and returned with rope.
In a moment he’d tethered me to the chair, my torso bound. He failed to be gentle, as the restraint bit into my chest.
“Please. I won’t say anything. Let me go and I’ll forget this happened.” I knew I clutched at straws and that they had no intention of freeing me until they got what they wanted. Namely Harley, or should I now call him Declan?
Had I known he would come with such danger, I wouldn’t have taken him into my home. Perhaps doing the right thing had ended up being my downfall.
I wished I were at my apartment reading or doing something mundane like loading the dishwasher or toiling with the laundry. I’d willingly go back to my boring life in a heartbeat if it would put me out of harm’s way.
Every sound and smell came to life, as if my mind prompted me to take in the tiniest of details, either due to the flight or fight response, or whether to assist police when it came time for my rescue. My rescue. That seemed the most unlikely of scenarios at present. I may be able to recall how dank the warehouse smelled or how the skitters of rats or mice sounded behind me occasionally, or descriptions of my captors, but all of that information wouldn’t actually help me get freed. I didn’t have a hand in that at all.
The Lost and Found Series Page 22