No Going Back

by Dani Matthews

  Gabe looks at me. “Setting him up is Quinn’s best chance of getting out of this alive,” he says quietly.

  I turn and walk away, leaving the room and going down to my room. They’re shoving this plan down my throat, and I don’t want to give into it. When I enter the room, I pause in the doorway and stare at the bed—the bed that Quinn should be sleeping in right now. She should be here, safely in the shelter of my arms.

  My fingers curl into my palms, forming fists. I want her back so fucking bad. A piece of me feels like it’s missing without her. Then, there’s the thoughts of what she might be enduring. Torture. Rape…

  I can’t breathe.

  I lean against the doorframe, struggling to draw air into my lungs. It’s killing me inside not knowing where she’s at and what’s happening to her. If I get her back, she won’t be the same. I know that.

  Her mischievous brown eyes flash in my mind, and my eyes sting. Her laughter won’t be given so freely. That need of hers to force me to see things her way, that desire of hers to make me lose control… It’s all going to change depending on how she comes out of this mess.

  Fuck.

  I don’t care how she comes back to me, just as long as she comes back home. I’ll help her put back all the pieces. I’ll be whatever the fuck she needs, I just need her back.

  My ass vibrates, startling me for a moment until I realize it’s my phone. I yank it out of my pocket. I have a text from an unknown number, and I know it’s him. I’m afraid I’m going to find a photo of Quinn, but I open the message anyway and find a written text. It’s the address of a storage building on the edge of the city. The text includes a unit number and a lock combination. The last sentence warns me to come alone.

  I’m relieved to have finally heard from Janke, but now I have a new dilemma. I need to decide whether to bring Bryce in on this or handle it alone. Quinn’s life depends on my decision. I stand there for a long second and weigh the pro’s and con’s. In the end, grabbing Janke might be Quinn’s best option. If things go south with trying to follow Janke, or if he figures out he’s being followed, he could take it out on Quinn. At least if he’s in custody, he can’t hurt her. That still leaves a chance that he won’t give up her whereabouts, but at least we’ll know she’s still alive, and that will hopefully give us a chance to find her.

  Now that the decision has been made, I hurry upstairs. When I enter the living room, Bryce and Gabe look to be in the middle of a serious discussion. Sebastian has arrived home, and I can tell he’s been out drinking instead of fucking. He’s not happily buzzed though, instead, he looks very subdued and grumpy as he sits on the couch listening to Bryce and Gabe.

  Bryce looks up when I enter the room. Before he can say anything, I signal that I’d received a text and hold the phone out to him.

  He takes it and scans the text. When he’s finished, he looks at me, his eyes intent. “We doing this?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Let me put together a unit so we can surround the building.” He gives me a warning look and hands back my phone. “Do not leave the house until we’re ready,” he warns.

  “Make it quick,” I tell him.

  He nods and turns, leaving the living room as he pulls out his phone. His voice disappears down the hall where he can talk in private.

  Gabe looks at me, his eyes grim. “What’d the text say?”

  I fill in Sebastian and Gabe.

  “This could go south really fast,” Sebastian says quietly.

  I nod in agreement. “We’re going to have to hope that isn’t the case.”

  We all fall quiet as a heaviness settles over us.

  Bryce returns a minute later, and he nods my way. “Let’s go,” he says, heading for the front door.

  “I’m supposed to go alone,” I remind.

  He opens the door, and we step outside. “You will. We’re meeting the team two blocks from the site, then from there, you’re going in alone with a wire. It’s a risk you’re taking,” he warns.

  “She’s worth it,” I say flatly.

  Bryce nods. “Let’s go bring her home.”

  After I climb into my truck, I follow Bryce’s car as he leads me to the meeting point. A van is waiting with three other officers inside, and I’m impatient as one of them attaches a wire to my chest. I get the all clear that I can take my gun, and I keep it hidden in the waistband of my jeans beneath my shirt.

  I’m then briefed on possible scenarios and what to do if Quinn is present. If she is, and I have to shoot the bastard, I can do so. But if she’s not present, I’m not to touch Janke unless it’s self-defense and my life is in jeopardy.

  Then, I’m on my way.

  My fingers wrap tightly around the steering wheel as I drive the last few blocks by myself. After waiting excruciatingly long hours for Janke to contact me, the last hour has flown by.

  When I reach the large storage facility, I drive around to figure out where the unit is. It’s in the very back, and I park the truck and look around. There’s no one present. The parking lot is empty, and the unit door is closed and looks to be padlocked.

  He’s not here.

  “There’s no one here, and the unit is completely locked. I think this is a test, because he’s too smart to let himself be cornered,” I murmur, knowing Bryce and the others can hear me. They’re hidden in the shadows, probably closing in on the building this very minute. “I’m getting out to see what’s waiting in there,” I add.

  Even though I doubt Janke is nearby, I stay alert as I carefully climb out of the truck and cautiously walk to the door. I pull out my phone and check the screen for the combination. Bryce had warned me not to open the door all the way, that I had to be careful in case Janke rigged it in some way. Explosives aren’t really his thing, but you never know. I’m a civilian, so I’d had to be briefed about all the possible risks.

  “I’m entering the combination,” I say under my breath. The padlock releases, and I ease it out of the rung. Now all I need to do is pull up the door.

  I kneel down and hold my breath as I carefully inch the door open, checking for wires that might be attached. “Looks clean, and there’s a light on inside.” I brace myself for what I might find and open the door all the way, quickly stepping back and grabbing my gun, aiming it. I’m certain my gun isn’t the only one trained on the unit, and I blink and process what I’m seeing. There’s a tall light in one corner, and a mattress splotched with blood in the other. The rest of the unit is empty.

  I slowly walk towards the wall where HIS had been written in smeared blood. My chest tightens, knowing that it’s Quinn’s. There’s also a photo attached where the top circle would be located above the I. With great dread, I approach it and gaze at the photo.

  Quinn’s on her knees, clad in the black lace bra and matching panties that she’d put on this morning. Her pink hair is a mess, and there’s blood smeared all over her chest. As much as the sight of her blood bothers me, my eyes focus intently on her face.

  I move closer, staring hard. There’s no visible tears and no mascara streaks. She doesn’t look scared, she looks pissed, and her eyes are blazing mad.

  That’s my girl.

  She’s in a shit situation, but she’s not going to let it break her. She’s going to fight to get back to me. There are words printed on the bottom of the photo, and I scan them. Next time come alone.

  I hear a footfall behind me, and I spin around, gun ready.

  “Easy,” Bryce says, entering the unit.

  I lower the gun.

  Bryce studies the photo and sighs.

  “Now what?” I ask, irritated that we’d done exactly what Janke had anticipated.

  “We bag the scene and go back to square one,” Bryce says reluctantly.

  I release a frustrated curse.

  Twenty-six

  Quinn

  I slowly stir, and it doesn’t take long for last night’s events to come back to me, causing me to tense. Very carefully, I breathe in and out,
and assess myself without opening my eyes. If Shane hasn’t woken me yet, then he’s apparently going to leave me alone for a while. If that’s the case, I don’t want to draw his attention if he’s in the vicinity.

  My arms feel numb from my shoulders to the tips of my fingers. I’d woken in this new location last night, my hands cuffed above my head to a simple ring that had been secured about five inches from the bottom of the cement wall. Next to the wall is a flat, striped mattress that I’m lying upon.

  As I breathe, I feel the skin along the cuts on my body pulling, warning me that any movement on my part will cause them to open once more. Nausea swells in my stomach, but I fight it off as I come to terms with my new reality.

  Last night, when I’d regained consciousness, Shane had been horny and had tried to rape me. The bastard had underestimated my ability to fight with my hands restrained. I’d landed a blow to his junk with my knee that had him falling away from the mattress, cradling his man parts. I’d been satisfied at the time to see the blood drain from his face, and as he’d writhed on the cement, I’d known that I’d done some sort of damage to his testicles.

  Unfortunately, after Shane had somewhat recovered, he’d been furious and clearly still in pain. He’d roared that he was going to make me pay, and he’d come at me with the knife, slashing wherever he could get to my skin.

  Tears thicken the back of my throat, and I fight the urge to look at my wounds. Not yet. Not until I know he’s not in the room. If he’s recovered and ready for round two, I don’t want to bring more trauma to my body.

  Instead of focusing on what he’s done to me, I lie as still as I can, calmly breathing as I listen intently. Since I’d woken, I haven’t heard any sort of movement nearby, and nothing upstairs.

  I think he’s gone.

  Slowly, I allow my gritty eyelids to open, and I stare up at the simple white ceiling. I don’t know where we are, but there must not be anyone nearby for miles. He’d taunted me that I could scream until my voice went hoarse, and no one would come save me.

  My eyes roam around the empty room. I believe we’re in a basement of some sort judging by the cement walls and the two, narrow windows located near the ceiling. Daylight has lightened the room, a telltale sign that it’s morning.

  I’d survived the night.

  I look towards the stairs in the corner of the room. Shane had gone up and down them a few times, but I’m thinking this place is abandoned without furniture because he’d brought a sleeping bag for himself to sleep on. In the corner of the room, he’d set up a small area with a tall utility light. His phone, the key to the cuffs, the knife, he’s keeping it all on him, and when he goes upstairs, he leaves nothing behind but the sleeping bag and light.

  The room is empty, confirming that Shane is gone. I don’t think he’s upstairs either, everything is too still and quiet.

  Now that I’ve confirmed that I am indeed alone, I swallow back a moan and carefully pull myself into a sitting position. It isn’t easy, and have to maneuver my head under my right arm that has grown numb. This new position causes my right arm to rest across my body near my left hip where the handcuff attachment is secured to the wall. It’s uncomfortable, but certainly better than lying on my back with my arms above my head.

  My chest and stomach feel wet, and I look down at myself. He’d used the knife to slash at my chest, giving me four long cuts that are deep enough to need stitches, but not severe enough to cause me to bleed out. They’re ugly, the skin parting around the edges. Blood has dripped from the ones that had reopened, and the pain is starting to burrow deep within me, causing me to hiss.

  Shit.

  I’d thought that I’d be able to handle whatever Shane threw at me, but I’m finding I’m not as strong as I’d thought. I’m bleeding across my chest, I have a long cut on my abdomen, and I’d received a few other cuts on my legs when I’d tried to deflect his attack. If I survive this ordeal, I’m going to be a scarred mess.

  Tears fill my eyes, and I quickly slam my eyelids down, refusing to cry. I won’t give Shane the satisfaction of seeing them. I tell myself they’re just cuts. Yes, they’ll scar, but at least I’ll be alive. Harper hadn’t come out of her own ordeal completely unscathed, and she too has her own scars. Regardless of them, her life is still moving on, and so will mine.

  Instead of dwelling on my body and the things that I can’t change, I focus on my future. Shane had told me last night that he’s going after Colt. After he’d calmed down from my brutal attack on his man bits, he’d bragged about how instead of killing Colt right away like he’d originally planned, he’s going to drag him here. He wants to kill him in front of me, torturing him to death before allowing me to meet the same fate.

  A humorous smile forms on my lips, knowing that this will all come to an end soon—hopefully today. Shane is never going to get the advantage over Colt. It’s just a matter of time before Bryce and Colt come to get me.

  My smile fades as I think of Gabe and Ash. I have no idea what Shane did to Gabe, and I can only hope that his injury wasn’t severe. As for Ash… I’m worried about that bump that had been on her head. It looked serious. If anything happens to them…

  No, I can’t think like that.

  Right now, my focus should be on how to get the hell out of here. Shane’s gone for the time being, probably watching the house until he can make a move on Colt. That gives me time to try to escape.

  I crane my neck to the left and peer down at the simple metal ring attached to a small, four-inch metal panel that had been drilled into the cement wall. There’s four screws. I shift my wrists, causing the short chain between the cuffs to slide against the rung. I’d already tried slipping my hands out of the cuffs during the night, and that is no longer an option. The cuffs are just too tight, and even with smearing my own blood on my hands to make them slippery, my hands are too big for the openings.

  While I’m trying to figure out how to loosen the screws, my eyes fall upon the cut on my palm. It’d dried up and scabbed a little, but I know with little movement, the cut will open again. I release a soft sigh and look around helplessly. There’s nothing I can use to loosen the screws or unlock the cuffs. For once, I wish I were the type that wore bobby pins in my hair.

  The sound of my stomach rumbling brings my attention to the fact that I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. And all I’d had was yogurt. I’m starving, and I have to pee.

  Twenty-seven

  Colt

  I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  Quinn has been gone for nearly twenty-four hours, and I’m alarmed that precious time is slipping by, and we have absolutely nothing.

  “Colt, you should rest,” Ash says softly as she enters the living room with a plate. She pauses before me and holds it out, revealing that she’d made me a sandwich.

  I fight back the urge to say something nasty since I’m in a foul mood, and instead, I accept the plate. “Thank you,” I manage to say.

  She sits down beside me, her eyes concerned. “When she’s found, she’s going to need you. You can’t be there for her if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

  I open my mouth to snarl at her, but then my mouth closes as I take in the ugly bruising on the side of her face. She’d only just come home from the hospital this morning, and instead of resting, she’s been trying to keep us and the house running. She’d manipulated Channing into going to his classes for the day, and somehow, she’d worked that same magic on Harper. Gabe had driven Harper into work this morning, and now the only ones in the house are Ash, Gabe, Bryce, and me.

  I release a heavy sigh and set the plate on the coffee table, not hungry. “I fell asleep earlier for a bit,” I gruffly confess. I’d felt guilty as shit upon waking up slumped on the couch.

  Ash touches my arm. “That’s your body telling you that you need to listen to it. You can’t ignore your body’s need to sleep.”

  I don’t say anything as I stare broodingly at the blank TV screen across the room. Bryce
had left earlier to look into a few things at the department, and he hasn’t come back yet. I’m hoping he’ll arrive with something to help us find her—anything.

  “If you’re not hungry, why not take a shower,” Ash suggests. I open my mouth to decline, but she railroads right over me. “Two minutes,” she insists. “You’re not going to miss anything during those few minutes, and if your phone should ring, I promise to knock on the bathroom door so that you can answer it immediately.”

  I reach up and scrub my hands over my face. I’m not in the mood to do jack shit.

  “You smell,” Ash tells me.

  My hands drop, and I give her a look. “I do not.”

  “You will soon if you don’t shower and shave that mess on your face,” she says bluntly. She rises to her feet, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ll stand right outside the bathroom door, okay? Go shower.”

  Not that I’ll admit this to her, but my ass is numb from sitting around. It would probably do some good to stretch a little. I pull my phone from my pocket and hold it out to her, saying nothing.

  In the end, the shower was a wise idea. I’m more alert, and getting off the couch had helped my mood. I’m a little more optimistic about what today will bring. Janke had written Next time come alone on the photo. There will be a next time, and when it comes, I need to be prepared. So I eat the sandwich, drink the water, and then pace the floor while I wait for Bryce to arrive.

  When he eventually shows up, I’m disappointed to learn that he has nothing new to share. Bryce looks at me, his expression compassionate. “I know the waiting is tough, but Janke will contact you, Colt.”

  “Before or after he hurts Quinn?” I ask flatly.

  He doesn’t say anything, unable to give me reassurances that Quinn will make it out of this unscathed. When his phone rings, I curse under my breath, wishing it was mine going off. “Detective Banning,” Bryce says into the phone. He listens for a moment before his eyes shift to me. He holds up a finger telling me he needs to take the call, and then he turns and wanders further into the house.