by Evelyn Glass
“If I don’t, then our kid might not have the big sister it deserves,” I cut across her, not meaning to sound rude but desperate to articulate just how much this meant to me. “I’m having this baby regardless, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t fight for the rest of our family, too.”
It was the first time I’d thought of us like that, as a family of four—my heart swelled with the image of it, the picture of Jazz, Ella, the baby, and I living together as one unit. I needed to get her back. There was never any doubt in that, but now I needed her viscerally. The thought of raising this baby without her there didn’t just hurt; it felt wrong, off, as though something profound and important was missing.
“Well, you can’t go alone,” Declan huffed. “I’ll get hold of the Marauders. Get them stationed around us. Make sure you don’t get hurt.”
“The Marauders…?” Mary looked confused, but Jazz was already shaking his head.
“We’ll take only who we need.” He glared at Declan intensely. “I don’t want any of them getting into trouble on my behalf.”
“But they—”
“I’m the leader and I think I’m making myself pretty clear,” Jazz spoke over him firmly. “It’s just us. We’ll call the police when and if we need to. Capiche?”
“Fine,” Declan conceded, and slumped back in his chair, looking like a kid who hadn’t got what he wanted. I almost smirked at the petulance of his gesture, until Jazz reached for the phone and took it in his hand. He clicked it on, and was faced with a number—the number of the man who had a member of our family.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I think we’re going to get a little privacy.” Jazz got to his feet and proffered a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me upright, tugging me close. I could feel his heart beating through his shirt, and wondered if he was as scared as I was in that moment. Lucy stood up too, and pulled me into a tight hug. She didn’t need to say anything else—I knew she was imploring me not to get hurt, begging me to take care of myself. She’d probably be Aunt Lucy to whatever kid I had, and the thought of losing that made me hold her even tighter. She let go, stepped back, and watched as we made our way outside again.
The rain had calmed down, but the street was still slick with water. Jazz stared down at the phone in his hand, and then up at me.
“Are you sure we want to do this?” he asked, but his voice seemed to lean more towards wanting encouragement than confirmation. I nodded, and he pulled the phone to his ear, tapping the call button at last.
I heard the phone buzz, and held my breath as I waited for an answer—but it went to the automated voicemail machine, a cool, collected woman’s voice asking him to leave a message. He let out a breath and spoke.
“Ian, it’s me, Jazz. If you’ve still got my daughter, we need to talk. Call me back.”
He hung up and pressed his fingers into his temples; he screwed up his face in anger and I could tell that this had pissed him off even more. He ran a hand through his hair, a tip-off that he was stressed as hell, and stared off down the street as though he half-expected Ian to come roaring around the corner at any second.
“It’s okay.” I caught his hand and clasped it between my own. “Hey, hey. We’ll get hold of him.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have used my name,” he lamented. “Maybe I should have…I don’t know, told him that I was the cops or something.”
“What good would that have done? He’s already gotten away from them once.”
“Good point,” he sighed. “I just want this—Jesus, I just want to see her again.”
“I know, I know.” I smoothed his hair back from his head—it was still damp from the rain from earlier, and slicked back against his skull. It made his eyes look even wide, his face appearing even more gaunt than it had before.
“Do you think we will?” he asked, his voice suddenly small. “Honestly? Do you think it’ll happen?”
“Of course I do,” I assured him, even though doubt was swirling around my mind like a drift of snow. “We’ll see her.”
“I just…” He came to a halt in the middle of his sentence, still unable to look me in the eye. “I should have done more. Sooner. If I hadn’t left it this long, maybe—”
“Maybe nothing,” I cut across him firmly. “There’s no reason to think you left this too long.”
“But what if this is my fault?” He looked at me, pained, the veneer he’d managed to hold up for the last few hours cracking and dropping away to reveal the terrified father beneath. I knew that this had always been here, but that didn’t make it any easier to see when it happened. Fear flashed in his eyes, and I could tell that the barriers he’d put up between himself and what could already have happened were dropping away.
I reached for him, catching his hand and hoping that it was enough to pull him out of his stupor. He turned to me, eyes bugging out of his head; it was the most emotion I’d seen from him since we’d met again that morning, and it scared me. It scared me because as long as he was strong then I could be too but as soon as his resolve gave out, I felt mine crumbling uselessly beneath me too. I set my jaw straight and tried to put on a game face, tried to convince both of us that there was still a chance that all of this would turn out okay.
I pulled him down the alley next to the diner, giving us some privacy—he was heaving in breath at that moment, his eyes closed as though he could block out the world. I caught his face in my hands.
“Hey, hey,” I called to him softly, pulling him back to Earth. “Even if something has happened…” I paused, forcing myself to consider the possibility—to face it head on and not to run or hide from it. It hurt, but there was more than that now. More than we had to think about. “We still have each other. And our baby,” I reminded him. “And that’s not something to turn away from. We’ll get through it, won’t we? No matter what?”
I was less reassuring him than asking him to reassure me, and it took a second for him to open his eyes, as if he was only just then making out the desperation in my voice. He covered my hands with his own, drew them to his mouth, and kissed my fingertips—it was a small gesture, but it was manageable, something that we could both cling to as everything came to a head around us.
“We will,” he promised, and his eyes finally met mine. He came back to Earth with a thud, the glassiness disappearing from his gaze in an instant. He reached down to put a hand on my stomach, and even mustered up a smile—it wasn’t much, but it was enough.
“I love you,” I murmured, the words echoing slightly off the high walls of the narrow alleyway surrounding us. It was so dark in there I could hardly see ten feet away, but I could make out the smile that broke over his face when I said that.
“I love you too,” he confirmed, and planted a kiss on my forehead then drew me into his arms. We stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other down that tiny alleyway, and even though I felt ridiculous and terrified and excited all in one—I knew I wouldn’t be anywhere other than here. I wouldn’t be with anyone other than him. Even just considering the thought felt ridiculous. We were a family now, bound together by forces I was still just coming to understand. Nothing would tear us apart—not even the truth about what had happened to Ella, whatever that turned out to be.
Our attention was drawn by the sound of smashing glass around the corner—the crystalline sound sent a jolt through the air and we jumped apart as though we were teenagers getting caught by our parents up to something unsavory.
“What the fuck was that?” Jazz murmured, and strode towards the source of the sound. I hurried to keep up with him, hand protectively placed over my stomach as if on instinct. And then, of course, that’s when the screaming started.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I barreled round the corner as fast as I could; the piercing screeches were cutting through the evening air like needles, thrumming around my head so fast I could hardly keep track of them. I didn’t recognize the voice, but as I returned to the diner, I crashed into two waitr
esses who had been on shift while we had been ordering dinner.
“You can’t go in there!” urged one, catching my arm. I shook her off and pushed forward.
“Call the police!” I called over my shoulder as I pushed open the door to the place and strode inside. And the scene that greeted me made my heart stop.
The place was empty, except for our little group—Paul, Mary, and Scott were cowering in the booth where we’d left them, while Lucy and Declan were on their feet. It must have been Mary who screamed, as she had both her hands clapped over her mouth as though to keep in any other outbursts of terror. And finally, I could see why she was so terrified.
Ian stood opposite the booth, a gun in one hand, dangling casually from his fingers like he was holding a cigarette or something. Addison was there, too—standing just behind Ian, an unreadable expression on his face, as though he wanted to apologize but just wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. And there, in front of Ian, pulled tight against his legs, was Ella.
It overwhelmed me at once—fear, relief. She was alive, but we still had to find a way to get her out of here unharmed, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she wasn’t making a sound—she gazed up at me and I gazed back, for a moment forgetting the situation we found ourselves in. I didn’t give a damn about anything other than the fact that she was alive. I had half-convinced myself that there was no way she would make it out of Ian’s clutches alive, and frankly, none of that was guaranteed yet—but with her here, we were closer than we had been before. Now, I just had to find some way to convince him to let her go.
The door burst open, and Mona tumbled into the room—she looked around, taking in the scene, and then her eyes landed on Ella.
“Ella!” she cried, and made towards her at once—but I dove in front of her, holding her back.
“Good idea,” sneered Ian, the first words I’d heard him speak through this entire mess. “You don’t want someone getting shot, now, do you?”
“What the hell do you want?” I asked, spreading my arms so I could keep Mona behind me. She clutched at my shoulders, peering over, trying to take everything in.
“I want to be left in peace with my sister.” Ian jerked his chin down towards Ella, and she flinched at his words—my stomach filled with anger at the sight of it and I had to clench my fists to keep from lunging for him there and then. Declan and I exchanged a look, and I could tell he was silently asking if he should just go for this asshole. I shook my head, barely perceptibly, and he blinked his acknowledgement. I needed to keep the situation under control—though I wasn’t sure how I was meant to, with a psychopath waving a gun around.
“Ian, you need to give her back,” I appealed to him, trying to keep my voice steady. I was having a hard time, and found that my hands were curling up into fists even as I spoke. Okay. Deep breaths. I know you want to beat the holy crap out of this guy, and you can do that as soon as you’ve got your daughter back in your arms.
“I don’t think so.” Ian reached down and put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer. Rage lanced through my body, and I fought it as best I could—though I knew I was contesting the inevitable.
“Please,” I implored, my voice cracking slightly as I spoke. “Just…give Ella back. She wants to be with me. She needs to be with me.”
“She’s not called Ella anymore,” Ian spat the name with disgust, as though the very concept of it made him sick. “Her name is Susie.”
I looked over at Addison, widening my eyes at him, begging him to intervene; he was the only one who had been through the same things Ian had, so surely he could find some way to relate to him, some way to put this into a context that Ian would see was completely crazy. But Addison avoided my gaze and stood, uselessly, still, his hands dangling limply by his sides. How had he got dragged into this? Or had he been in on it since the start? I would have my answers in due time; for now, all I wanted was my daughter.
“Her name is Ella,” Mona piped up from behind me, and we all turned to look at her; she stepped out from behind me. I could see that she was shaking, but she kept her tone firm and clear. “Ella.”
“I don’t need to hear from you.” Ian snapped. “You didn’t stop me before and you won’t now.”
“Ian, please—” she begged, and took a step towards him—he lifted the gun up and levelled it at her coolly, his eyes flashing as he did so. His face was usually blank, but I could see that she had shaken him. He had expected to deal with me, and yet, here was Mona—a mother figure, the one thing he didn’t need to fit into his perfect little storybook world. Of course it would have thrown him. Mona came to a standstill at once and held her hands up in a defensive position, showing that she posed no threat to him.
“Get away,” he snarled—I could see Ella straining forward to get out of his grasp, her eyes fixed on Mona. There was a desperation in her face that I’d never seen before, as though she knew how close she was to getting away. Mona looked down at Ella and managed to give her a reassuring smile, even though the situation seemed to be getting more dire by the minute.
“Why did you bring her here?” I demanded, pulling the attention back off Mona and onto me. The thought of either one of them getting hurt—it sent shivers down my spine. Add to the fact that Mona was pregnant, another little detail that probably wouldn’t fit too neatly into his perfect little outline, and we had trouble on our hands.
“What do you mean?” Ian snapped, scratching the back of his head with the barrel of his gun. Even though I found myself hoping it would go off, I still flinched as he did it—it was clear this guy had no idea what he was doing with a weapon, and that made him almost more dangerous than someone who did.
“If you don’t want to give her back, why did you come here?” I demanded. “You must have a reason. Or are you just here to gloat until the police arrive?”
“I’ll be long gone by the time the cops get here,” he grinned cockily. “I took everyone’s cell phones. It’ll be a long time before anyone can get the police down.”
Shit. I had hoped that Ian wouldn’t have thought that far ahead, but it seemed like he had this planned out—well, as planned out as a maniac wielding a gun and a kidnapped child could, anyway.
“Then tell me why,” I implored desperately. “If we’ve got time, tell me why you’re here.”
“I tracked your phone when you called me,” he explained coolly, his voice calm despite the circumstances. It wouldn’t be long before someone stuck their head in to see what was going on, and when they did, there was going to be hell to pay. Why didn’t he seem bothered? It was like he’d come here with a game-plan, and so far, everything was falling into place with him. This made me even madder than ever—the thought that I was somehow playing right into his hands without even knowing it. I clenched my fists and did my best to keep those thoughts from my brain while I waited for him to continue.
“I know you’ve been looking for her,” he went on. I blinked slowly. Of course I had. What the fuck did he expect, me to just keel over and let him take my daughter from me? This guy was crazier than I thought. I couldn’t believe that he’d watched me all that time and seriously thought that I might just let this happen.
“So I thought it would only be fair if I offered you a deal.” His eyes jumped from me to Mona and back again. I realized that everyone else in the room was completely silent; Declan and Lucy had frozen where they stood as soon as Ian had pointed the gun at Mona, and the three in the booth were stock-still, eyes swiveling to keep up with the conversation as it went on. Even Addison seemed frozen to the spot—in fact, Ian was the only person in the room who seemed as though he was in his element. For some reason, this made my stomach churn with nausea—it must have been my natural reaction to knowing that if things were going right for a guy like him, then you could be sure they were going wrong for a whole lot of other people in response.
“What’s the deal?” I demanded impatiently. “Anything. Is it money? Or�
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“It’s her.” Ian jerked his head towards Mona. I turned to her, and found she’d gone white with fear. I grabbed her hand and pulled her protectively against my chest. I needed her; I wasn’t going to let him hurt a hair on her head. Or our baby’s.
“What do you want with her?” I asked, softer now, trying to coax him into giving us some leeway—I knew it wasn’t going to work, but surely it was worth a shot just in case.
“I want her dead,” he replied. His tone was matter-of-fact, but that didn’t stop his words landing with a thud in between us. Mona tensed up against me, and let out a small whimper of fear in reaction. I couldn’t say I blamed her—I knew exactly how she felt. My heart finally seemed to start again, but this time it was beating so fast that I could hardly catch my breath.
“What do you mean?” I managed. If I could just keep him talking long enough, then maybe someone else would turn up and we could find a way out of this without Ella or Mona getting hurt…