by Kate Swain
“No!” I whispered.
“Bro,” Matt appeared at the doorway, eyes like saucers. He was followed by Mark, who was carrying a pair of pliers. They’d evidently started work again. “Everything fine?”
“Amelia,” I whispered in shock. “He took her.”
“What?” Mark shouted. He looked ready to murder someone.
“Okay, everyone,” Matt said steadily. “Who took who? Where?”
“Amelia,” I said. I was sobbing with fear, and I didn’t even try to hold back. “Luke Lowry. He took her away.”
“Luke Lowry?” Matt frowned.
“The guy who tried to break in,” Mark confirmed, nodding briskly. “We need to call the cops. Now.”
“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand as Matt spun around, his phone in hand. “We don’t want to put her in danger.”
“What?” Mark snapped. “We need to call the cops, bro. How is that putting her in more danger than she already is?”
“If he’s kidnapped her,” Matthew said, already understanding me, “then if we call the cops, he might hurt her to retaliate. We need to find out more information first.”
Mark looked at him as if he’d gone crazy. He turned to me.
“How much time do we have,” he asked, “before we call the cops?”
I sighed. “Give us thirty minutes.”
“No way,” Mark snapped. “In thirty minutes, anything could happen! We should call them now.”
“She’s been missing all day,” Matthew pointed out. “Thirty minutes is enough.”
Mark nodded. Adam had come in too, and he looked from my brothers to me. He looked worried.
“Amelia’s been kidnapped,” Matthew told him softly. “We need to find her.”
“Kidnapped?” Adam whispered. “No way. From where?”
“From here,” I said grimly. I felt like a fool. She could have been in my house, safe and warm. Why had I not behaved better? Why had she felt the need to leave? It was my fault she’d been taken. I had no doubt about that. I covered my face with my hands.
Stop it, a voice somewhere in the back of my brain said crossly. Do something to help.
I drew in a breath. “Matthew, Mark?” I said. “Please, if you could get ahold of everyone you know from the Heaven’s Helpers? They can help us.”
“Sure,” Matthew nodded.
Mark still looked skeptical, as if he thought we should save time and call the cops right now, but he nodded too. I saw him pull out his phone. He went out into the hallway. Adam frowned at me.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“If you can look for any signs of any evidence outside? Something somebody might have dropped? Signs of a scuffle?”
“Sure,” he nodded. I watched as he went out.
“What are you going to do?” Matt asked me.
“I’m calling Tex,” I said. I could only hope that he could supply some useful information. If he couldn’t, I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea where Amelia had been going or where she was now. I didn’t even know where to start. I felt helpless.
“Tex,” I said, as soon as he picked up. “Amelia’s been kidnapped.”
“By that guy?” Tex sounded incredulous.
I shrugged. “I think so.” It was only now that I realized I had no idea if it was him or not. I’d never seen him before in my life.
“What can I do?” Tex asked. He sounded shocked.
“Come over, please. As soon as you can,” I said swiftly. “We’re going to look for her.”
By the time I’d ended the call, the office was already starting to fill up. Matthew and Mark had gotten hold of several other members of the club, including Kyle. I watched as my office became the headquarters of our team.
Kyle, LaRoche, and Stone were all there. All had their leather club jackets on or hung over one arm. They’d all come on their bikes. I could hear lowered voices. They all had frowns. My brothers had filled them in on the situation.
“Has somebody got her phone number?” LaRoche asked suddenly.
“Sure!” I said quickly. “I have her mobile number.”
LaRoche looked at me like I’d gone nuts. “Why aren’t we tracking her phone, then?”
“You can do that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Kyle? You’re the policeman. You can.”
Kyle nodded. “I can.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I wrote down the number and gave it to him. While Kyle and LaRoche got onto the job of tracking Amelia’s phone, I talked to my brothers and Stone.
“You saw the footage on the camera, right?” Stone asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“It was this guy? The one who you asked us to watch out for?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what he looks like. It could have been. Have you seen him?” I asked.
“I saw him recently,” Tex said, coming in to join us. As the heavily built biker came to join our team, I felt myself relax. I looked around the office and felt hope suddenly. We could find her, with all of us working on the task. I was sure.
“Great,” I said. “Come and look at the footage.”
I took him to my desk. Mark followed me while Matthew stayed to direct the team. I kept on glancing anxiously over at LaRoche’s back, wondering if they would manage to get a trace of her. What if her phone was off? What if somebody had taken it?
“We found her!”
I felt like somebody had hit me hard on the head, I was so relieved. “You did?” I asked.
“Yeah!” Kyle was almost laughing. “Man, this guy must be dumb. Good thing, too, or he might have taken it away. Here we are.” He pointed to something on the screen of his own phone, which appeared to be a satellite map.
“What are the coordinates?” Matthew asked, already reaching for his coat, which he’d hung up in my office.
Kyle read them out.
“Can you repeat that?” Mark asked, taking out his phone.
“Yeah.”
I punched the numbers into Google Maps, feeling full of a driving sense of urgency. The cross streets appeared and told everyone where to go. As we hurried out to our bikes, I felt my sense of guilt and blame dissipating, replaced with a growing sense of purpose.
I loved Amelia, I realized with a sense of wonder. I loved her more than I had ever believed was possible. I wished I had told her when I still had a chance.
“We can find her,” I told myself firmly as I jumped onto my bike. Inwardly, I hoped against hope that she was still okay. And that we’d get there before anything happened to her.
24
Amelia
I blinked, somewhere between sleep and waking. I had stopped feeling anything or thinking anything. I sat on the bed in a daze. I couldn’t think straight. It felt like my brain was somewhere else, and in its place, I now had a computer.
You’re in shock, it told me. You should rest.
It was shock, I knew, but it was so different from anything I’d ever felt. I had only a rudimentary memory of what had happened, and how I’d arrived here.
I had been on my way to the doctor when something hit me on the back of the head. The next thing I knew, I was fighting with Luke and then was locked in the back of my car. At that stage, I lost consciousness. Now, I was awake but too much in shock to move.
You should drink something. You will get dehydrated. My brain was feeding me information that made only rudimentary sense. I knew it was right, though.
I nodded to myself. There was a jug of water on the table, a glass next to it. I wasn’t thirsty. Even if I had been, the room was so dirty, and I was so tired, I could barely make myself move.
“What do I do?”
I looked around the room. It was hard to know, but it felt like I had been shut in here for about half an hour. I hadn’t risked looking at my phone, in case Luke saw me and took it away. I heard him in the room next door, and I didn’t think it was worth the risk, given that he could barge in here at any mo
ment. I had no idea where I was.
More than anything, I wished I could talk to Carter. I could see his face in my thoughts and his tender blue eyes.
I felt my eyelids lower over my eyes. I was sitting on a mattress that was against the wall. The room had peeling paint on the walls and a high, grimy window that let in the clouded daylight. I would have tried to climb out, except that it led onto the roof, and there was no visible way down that wasn’t insanely risky.
It looked like the house was somewhere outside the town. I could see the main body of the city in the distance. Wherever this was, it was an area so neglected that it was unlikely anybody came here or that anybody would find me.
Carter, I thought again. I tried to focus my thoughts on him. His face wavered in my mind, then grew stronger.
I love you.
I realized, with a shock, how true that was. I loved Carter. I had to see him if only to tell him how I felt about him.
I contemplated drinking water. My mouth was dry. I stood to get it, and the door opened.
“You should drink it,” Luke said in a low voice that had a local accent and tone that suggested he was permanently mocking someone. I felt the sound of it grate on me, and I realized just how scared I was.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t have thought of anything to say if I’d wanted to. I’d already heard it all, and his words didn’t need an answer. My lack of response made him mad. I saw his brows shoot up. He was high, I thought, looking at his unfocused eyes. He was unstable, but there was something more to his behavior than that alone.
“Nothing to say?” he asked. “I thought so. You’re just playing hard to get.” He sounded petulant, like an affronted child.
“Hard to get?” I couldn’t help it. I was incredulous! Of all the dumb, ridiculous things for him to say!
“Shut up,” Luke said and raised his hand to slap me. I flinched, and his hand missed. He seemed to be pleased that he’d gotten a response. I saw a lazy satisfaction in his dark eyes. There was something deeply wrong with this man. I had always thought that. Now I could see it so clearly in those dark, strangely empty eyes.
“You always wanted me,” Luke continued. “And you knew I wanted you. And so, you ran away. Your mother blamed me, by the way.” He had tears on his cheeks. A tantrum was clearly approaching. “She threw me out. It’s all your fault.” He spat.
I stared at him, horror making me stay where I was. I was too scared to do anything. He covered his face with his hand, tears flowing. His eyes, when they met mine, were murderous.
I could see his rage was now becoming dangerous. He’s going to kill me, I thought in horror. I looked around, trying to find something—anything—to defend myself. I had no idea what this man would do, but I had no curiosity to learn. And my baby! I couldn’t let anything happen to her.
“Luke, it’s not my fault mom threw you out,” I said. I tried to keep my voice low and assuring, hoping to talk him out of attacking me while I looked for something to use to defend myself.
It was a bad choice of words. His eyes narrowed further. He walked over and slapped me this time, and I winced at the sting of it. A tear ran down my cheek, more from surprise than anything else.
“You bitch!” he yelled. “Now look what you made me do. You teased me, you led me on. And all the time you knew how I felt. Why didn’t you make it easier? You’re cruel, that’s what you are!”
I wanted to scream. I was beyond shock now. I was terrified to the point where I had my knees drawn up to my chest, my eyes shut. I couldn’t handle another second of this. I had to get out of here, but my mind was too full of terror to move.
“Stupid woman!” he ranted. He advanced on me and I rolled up in a ball, praying that he would delay beating me until I had managed to get to the door. I rolled off the bed as he struck out at me. He collapsed on the bed where I had been, then came upright on the blanket, an expression of rage on his face.
“Stupid, wicked…” he ranted, slurring as he got to his feet.
I ran to the door, which was open. He ran to follow me. I grabbed the door and tried to pull it shut behind me, but he pulled it open and came through after me. I screamed as he chased me into the filthy living room.
“No!”
As he grabbed for my arm, something hit the front door. It was a loud sound, and the door rocked on its hinges. I felt my heart soar. Luke looked around with horror. As we stood, rooted to the spot, the sound repeated loudly.
25
Carter
“I told you we should have called the police,” Mark said, as I kicked at the door. I turned and glared at him.
“Kick harder,” Kyle said grimly.
I kicked again. The door was the only one with a sign on it in the building, and the name on the bell was “Lowry,” which gave us hope that this was the room where Amelia was. Kicking in the door seemed useless—it was solid. I heard somebody scream.
“Amelia!” I whispered. I knew that must be her. I’d never heard her scream, but the pitch was right, and somehow my body recognized her voice.
Now, I knew she was in there. And that meant I was going to kick down the door. Yelling incoherently, I ran at the door. I felt it shudder on its hinges.
“Go!” Kyle and Matt yelled, encouraging me. “Do it again.”
The door shuddered as I hit it again, and then, just as I thought we’d never bust the door down, and that my brothers were right about calling the cops, I heard something snap.
“Hurray!” LaRoche yelled.
Stone bellowed from the back. “We’ll cover you.”
I didn’t need to be told. I had lost all sense of anything except for Amelia. I ran inside, screaming words that made no sense to me.
“Amelia!” I yelled. That part made sense. “Amelia! It’s me!”
“Carter?”
I heard her yell my name and at the same moment, I saw her. She was leaning against a filthy wall. I quickly took in the surroundings—the man against the wall, the messed up sofa, the floor cluttered with things and thick with dust—but my focus was all on her.
There was a bruise on her cheek, and her face was tear-stained. She was wearing a white shirt and sweats and her hair was a mess. She looked at me with huge eyes. I wrapped her in my arms.
“Amelia,” I whispered. Her legs gave way and we collapsed onto the floor. I held her to my chest, shielding her with my body. Something jumped on my back, hard.
“Get off him!” Mark snarled.
“Take that!” Matthew yelled. I heard the sound of a kick, and somebody moaned in pain.
“Tie his hands up,” Tex said.
“I’ll call the cops,” Kyle said.
“Give him here,” LaRoche said from the door.
I ignored the sounds of the beating, the screamed threats, the swearing. I could feel Amelia’s heart beating hard and hear her crying.
“Carter,” she whispered. “Carter. I’m so sorry…”
“What?” The sounds had died down enough for me to hear now. I looked into her face, my mind blank. “Amelia? I’m sorry. If I wasn’t such a fool, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Carter, no,” she sniffed. “You did nothing.”
“I did something,” I whispered into her hair. I had made her go away.
“Carter…” she started to cry again, and I realized how tense she was, and how much this was a bad time to argue. With my arms around her, I stood up gently, lifting her to her feet. Her legs couldn’t take her weight, so I carried her in my arms. I turned around to face the room. LaRoche and Kyle had hauled Luke onto the front steps and I could hear low voices speaking earnestly outside.
“We called the cops,” Stone informed me. He was standing by the door. Mark was with him. Matthew was on the floor, gathering something up. I saw it was a phone—probably Luke’s. I nodded, realizing it would be good evidence, when the police came over.
“Amelia,” Matthew said gently. “Are you okay?”
Amelia was sobbing incoherently in
my arms. She didn’t seem to hear him. I just nodded helplessly. I had no idea what to do. She was beside herself.
“Shh,” I said gently. “You’ve been so brave. You’re so brave.”
She held onto me and her sobs subsided slowly.
“I think we should take her to the doctor,” Mark said.
“I’ll call the ambulance,” Matthew nodded.
I carried Amelia out of the filthy, stinking apartment.
We stood outside in the fresh air. The city was on the horizon, low clouds gathered around it, and a stiff wind was blowing. I could smell dust and tar and I watched the trees blowing to and fro. I let Amelia stand on her feet, though I kept her against me.
“Carter,” she murmured. “How did you find me?”
“We traced your phone,” I said gently. I was just so pleased to hear her speaking again!
“You… oh, Carter,” she sobbed. “I was so scared. He could have killed me.” Her eyes were round with shock.
“I know,” I said grimly. I knew what he was capable of. I shuddered, more grateful than ever that we’d managed to get here in time.
“Carter,” she said. She leaned on me, and I put my arms around her and held her. She sniffed, and her face rested on my shoulder. I held her and whispered into her hair, making sounds of reassurance as if she were a child.
We stood out there on the sidewalk. The rest of the street was empty. This apartment was the last one standing in some sort of industrial zone that was now deserted.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, as Amelia sobbed against me. I heard a siren in the distance and realized that the police were already here.
The ambulance came next.
“Now, sweetie… who’s your emergency contact?” the paramedic asked Amelia kindly. Amelia was white and tense and shaking, and I knew that she was too shocked for any questions right now.
“I am,” I said firmly.
The woman gave me an odd look, but nodded. She handed me a form to fill out, while a younger woman and a man came over with a glass of water for Amelia. Another took her blood-pressure.