The water. Avery was fine before she drank it. But, then that meant ... that meant Rodney had to have done something to the water. That didn’t make sense. Why would he drug her and then leave her bound to a chair in the dark during a severe storm?
Avery rocked back and forth, in an attempt to make some sort of noise, to alert someone. Anything! She had a feeling it would do no good. The roar of the storm outside trumped any kind of sound she would be able to make.
A door burst open, allowing a bit of light into the room. Rain ushered in along with a shadow. Avery’s heartbeat quickened. The door slammed closed, and then a light clicked on. “Well, still have power. That’s a good thing.” Avery stared into the cold eyes of a man she thought she could trust.
Rodney.
He stared at her with a frown. “You’re alert. Good! Now maybe before the power goes out or the storm gets worse, I can get what I need.” He stomped over to her, knelt down to her height and ripped the tape off her mouth with no warning.
Avery yelped, the sting so strong she nearly vomited.
“Don’t scream, or it’ll go right back. Not that I think anyone can hear you.” He cast his gaze behind her.
“What- why are you doing this?” Avery asked. If her mouth was any more parched, she wouldn’t be able to speak at all. She dared not ask this man for any water. “I don’t understand.”
Rodney laughed bitterly. “No, you wouldn’t understand, would you, Avery? But it’s nothing from you I want. I need you as leverage to get back at your mother. Your birth mother.”
“You never cared at all to meet me? It was never about getting to know your daughter?”
“You aren’t even my child!” Rodney shouted, getting up and pacing around the room.
How could that be? The DNA test proved otherwise. Unless Rodney had the means to have the tests fixed or something. Of course everything had been set up by him. They could have easily doctored the results. A shiver rippled down her spine, only making the pain in her arms worse. Avery tried to move to a position that didn’t hurt so much, but nothing worked.
“I don’t even know my birth mother,” Avery muttered. “So what do you need me for? How can you not be my father? We saw the results together!”
“I know your birth mother. Very well. That bitch is a double crossing, lying whore. She was supposed to be with me! Make music together, live together happily. Then she met your father. That dickwad had nothing on me, and yet she fell in love with him. Got pregnant.” He snarled in her face. “With you.”
“My father?” Avery stuttered. Now she was just confused.
“Yeah. The real Rodney Morris. Dead now, thanks to me, which gave me the perfect opportunity to take his place. He never knew what was coming. How perfect that he’d seen your mom, had a talk and she told him about you. Of course, since I’ve been aware of her whereabouts all this time, I’ve been able to keep up with everything. I knew about Lucas. He could have complicated things, but oh well. I tried to get him out of the picture, but you kept running to him every time. I’ve got you without him now. That boy stuck to you like glue. Oh, and his little feelings for you. So sweet. Not!”
He sneered. “So tell me, how is it you can still want to be with Lucas after all of his lies, but you have no more feelings for your ex-boyfriend? Isn’t that a little two faced? What Lucas did was a lot worse, don’t you think?”
Now he was just trying to rile her.
Avery heard the words, but was in a state of shock. Her biological father was dead?
A loud siren wailed outside. Avery knew that all to well. Tornado sirens. And they were right by a window. “We’ve got to get downstairs or something!” Avery shouted. He wouldn’t just let her die, would he? Not if she was part of whatever screwed up scheme he’d planned.
Where were they? The room wasn’t very big, but it didn’t give away any clues. A hotel? Small cabin? Somewhere that stood no chance if a tornado crossed their path?
He grunted. “Damn it! This isn’t good. How the fuck am I supposed to do this now? You weren’t supposed to come back yet. I would have had more time to plan it.”
Avery’s gaze followed him as he continued to circle the room.
I don’t want to die like this. I have so much to live for.
Rodney- or, the man pretending to be Rodney grabbed a camera out of his pocket and snapped photos of Avery. What the hell was he doing? “The storm is going to wipe this place out if it hits,” Avery tried again, pleading.
“Will you please shut up for a minute?” Slap! His hand connected with her cheek. Then he reached into his pocket again. This time he pulled out a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a piece, he attempted to slap one back over her mouth. She fought hard, shaking her head every which way until he grabbed her by the neck and held her face still until the tape was in perfect place over her mouth. He stared at her with cold, emotionless eyes. Nothing like the looks she’d been used to when she met this man. If he didn’t kill her first, the storm would. Avery fought the tears. She didn’t want to choke to death ether. The wind howled, thunder rumbled so loud Avery thought the place would shatter. Maybe the storm would ease up and if there was a tornado, it would go far away from here, wherever here was.
Rodney dragged her into another room. A closet maybe? Bathroom? Whatever it was it didn’t have windows. He slammed the door, sending her into darkness again. She could hear sounds outside and him cursing. What was he going to do? Run off and protect himself and leave her here to die in the storm?
I love you, Mom.
I love you, Dad.
I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work, Jameson.
I love you, Laura. You are the best, the sister I never had.
I’m sorry we never got to have the chance to get close, Paula.
I love you, Lucas.
I’m sorry.
As the sounds grew louder outside, Avery cried, thinking about all the people she loved and had in her life, and begged for mercy. Silently pleaded at the universe to spare her and let her live. She wanted to see each of those people she thought of and make sure they knew how much she loved and appreciated them.
That included Lucas.
The sound of shattered glass filled the room. Everything seemed to explode. The entire building vibrated and shook, the deafening sound of a tornado evident. The walls caved in, pummeling Avery with debris. For the second time that day, her world went black.
The last image before she passed out was of Lucas.
Chapter Twenty Eight
While the storm outside eased, a new one began. This time, it was a storm of chaos, inside the basement of the inn. Children were crying from fear of the wind and damage. Mr. and Mrs. Callimer hung on every word Lucas and Belinda had to say. A few times, Mrs. Callimer burst into tears. But to be fair, they were taking the information better than expected. They also were warm and open to Belinda.
“Avery still keeps that hat,” Mr. Callimer said softly. Even he had a few tears.
“I think the worst is over.” Alice came up to them and looked at everyone. “We should get up there and check on the damage. Do you want me to go? We shouldn’t take everyone up yet until we know how safe the structure is.”
“No, Alice. This gentleman and I will go,” Mr. Callimer said, shooting a pointed look at Lucas. He only nodded. They had a lot to talk about while checking the inn. Mr. Callimer turned to his wife. “We’ll be back and as soon as we’ve checked everything, everyone can come back up. Are you going to be okay?”
“Of course I will. I’m not an old biddy yet.” Mrs. Callimer frowned. Lucas stifled a laugh. This woman had given so much to Avery, including her stubborn attitude. One of the things Lucas loved about Avery.
“Let’s go then.” Lucas followed Mr. Callimer up the stairwell.
The inn sustained very minimal damage. No major structure issues. Trees had fallen over, piled on top of cars. Shingles were torn from the roof. Most likely, the base of the tornado never hit the inn directly. Lucas steppe
d over broken branches. Glass crunched beneath his feet. Many windows would need replacing. He waited for Mr. Callimer to say something. Anything. Lucas hated this strained silence.
“Sir,” he started again.
Mr. Callimer turned to Lucas. “That makes me sound so old, you calling me sir.” He raised a brow.
“I’m sorry. What should I call you, then?”
“Well, Lucas, I guess that depends on how my daughter feels about you. I know she feels something for you. But you’re going to have to work hard to earn her trust.”
“I have to find her. Now that this storm is over..” Lucas’s voice trailed off. Where could he start? He had no idea what car the man was driving, or if they were even in Texas. And there’d been no word from Avery.
Lucas jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps from behind him. Both he and Mr. Callimer turned. Lucas turned his light toward the sound. Jameson climbed over debris, heading their way.
“Is everyone all right here?” Jameson asked. “Mom and I took shelter in my cellar, and I came over here as quickly as possible. Is there any word?”
“None. You got home before the storm hit?”
“When I talked to you and realized Avery already had to be back in town, I turned back. She called me though, but both of our signals were so poor, I couldn’t get much from her. I tried to warn her, but I don’t think she heard me.” Jameson’s face fell. “I wish I’d gotten there earlier. I could have kept that bastard from getting anywhere near her!”
“Jameson, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m kicking my own ass for things too, but I realize there’s no use in worrying about what we could have done differently. Right now, we just need to find her,” Lucas said. “How long ago did she call? What did she say?”
Jameson nodded. “You’re right. She called more than an hour ago. I barely heard a thing. I don’t think she understood anything I tried to tell her.”
“I’m sure there will be search parties all night for folks that have been affected by the storm,” Mr. Callimer said. “We’ll go to the police with what we know and make sure Avery is on the list to search for. We just have to keep in mind we’re not sure she’s near here. But we will not give up hope.”
“No sir, we won’t. I’m going to find her,” Lucas promised. If it’s the last thing I ever do.
Sirens wailed in the distance. This time, it was the sirens of help.
******
Head pounding, Avery awoke to a heavy weight on top of her. She was buried under a large pile of debris. She was alive! She’d survived the storm. Where was Rodney? And how in the hell was she going to get out of this with her binds? Avery opened and closed her hands. Her wrists hurt like hell from being twisted up behind her. The chair was on it’s side. If she was lucky and able, she could find some sort of sharp edge within the debris and cut the ropes. It was a long shot, but the only thing she had to hope for.
When her left hand palmed a stick with a jagged edge, Avery let out a silent thanks. The tricky part was going to be getting the ropes in the just the right angle to cut through them without slicing her wrists open.
She would do whatever she had to do. With all this rubble, who knows how long rescue workers would take to find her? By then, Avery would die from lack of food, water, or bleeding out. There was blood. She felt it. Smelled it.
If Rodney was alive, he’d be coming back for her. Avery had to get out of here before that happened. Wincing, she slid her wrists over the stick. Each thrust, she felt the ropes loosening. It was working! She might just be free in no time. At least from her binds. She then had to figure out where she was, and if moving any of the piled debris was an option. Hope faded, but only for a moment. Until the last thrust. Avery screamed against the tape as the edge jabbed her hard in the wrist. Pain shot up her arm. Please, please, please let her not have a sliced vein.
But she was free! She could move her hands. They hurt like hell, but Avery had full range of motion. Cringing at the thought of getting that tape off her mouth, she decided to just suck it up and rip.
One, two, three.
Avery thought her lips were going to come off with the tape, but at least it was off. Be strong. You’re almost there.
Avery worked on untying her ankles. She still had shoes on. Good! Running around in the storm’s aftermath, who knew what sharp objects awaited. It was difficult to muster the energy to get her feet untied, and the heavy boards and pieces of the structure she’d been in held her down, but she pushed through.
She let out a rejoiced cry when the ropes were off her feet. Okay, next step. Get the hell out from under this mess. Avery scooted away from the chair. She crawled on all fours now, even though blood seeped from her wrist, she could still move it for the most part. Enough to get her out. Avery lifted her non-bloody wrist and shoved at the stuff above her. Some of it moved easily, and some didn’t. It was enough to work with.
When Avery climbed out of the debris and studied the surroundings, it looked like a bomb had gone off. Trees down, car alarms going off in the distance, and everything smelled of blood and death. Avery bent down, holding her stomach as she tried hard not to be sick. It was so dark! How was she going to get out of here without tripping on something or falling into a hole or-?
Avery tore at the sleeve of her shirt. She had to find a way to stop the blood flowing from the gash on her wrist. She gathered enough cloth to wind it around her wrist. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it was a start.
Deep breaths.
Don’t panic. Whatever you do, don’t panic.
Umm, yeah. Avery was already in a panic. She raised her right foot and stepped lightly forward. Another step. So far, so good. No falling through, no nails shoved up in the bottom of her shoe. But this was just the beginning. Avery had so far to go.
She remembered search teams from previous storms. Especially the ones that hit at night, like this one. When her dad was younger, he’d join them. People would search the rubble and look for survivors. So there was hope. How widespread was the damage? It could still take a long time for someone to come Avery’s way. If only she knew where Rodney was. That would at least help her feel better.
Lightning flashed in the distance. Avery hadn’t thought about more storms. If another nasty one hit, she’d be screwed.
Still taking small, slow steps, Avery’s foot slammed into something. A body? A small light gleamed from beside whatever it was. Avery picked the object up. A flashlight! Yes! She almost squealed out loud until she pointed the light beam downward.
Avery almost lost it. Her foot had stumbled on Rodney’s body. He was certainly dead. His open, wide eyes were glazed over and he’d lost so much blood. But to be sure, Avery bent and felt for a pulse. She half expected him to jump up and grab her. That happened all the time in those stupid scary movies she used to watch with Jameson or Laura. Avery shivered. No pulse. She was thankful that she was safe from this man, but it was still tragic that someone lost a life. Now, she may never know what he wanted, or even who he was.
Avery sobbed and moved away from the body. She held the flashlight out, shining the beam left and right to ensure she could see everything around her.
Where is this place? She could be anywhere right now. Avery had no sense of time. It had been at least eight o’clock when Rodney stopped at that gas station, but after that ... she could have been out for hours, both times.
The dim light helped Avery find a vehicle. Though most of it was destroyed from flying wood, drywall and a ... refrigerator, Avery recognized it as the car she’d ridden in.
There was a chance that her stuff could still be there. Though her cell phone was dead, Avery could still gather a few things to help her get out of there, and if Rodney had a phone, he could have been lying about it being dead. Which meant Avery could make a phone call. Not that she could tell anyone where she was, but she could probably find an app that had some kind of GPS locater or something.
She wouldn’t push her luck that far, but her heart fille
d with hope. When she pulled on the door, it didn’t budge. Poising the light in the windows, sure enough, Avery spotted her suitcase, and her purse on the front seat of the car.
The air had been so eerily calm before that when a gentle breeze ruffled her hair, Avery nearly jumped.
She was definitely on edge.
Avery would have to break the window. Not that there wasn’t plenty of items around to help her smash it. She’d just have to watch for flying glass. She already had one cut. Searching the nearby ground, Avery spotted a large enough branch that might do the trick. She grabbed it, but it was so heavy. She’d have to put the flashlight down.
To save battery life, Avery clicked the light off, throwing her in the midst of darkness. With a grunt, she lifted the branch and held it like a baseball bat, prepared to smash the window. The first try didn’t get her anywhere. Avery was so overcome with dizziness that she fell flat on her butt. “Ooph!”
She sat for a moment, trying to gain her strength.
Moments later, Avery climbed to her feet again, picked up that branch and slammed into the window harder than before. “Damn you, break! Break!” she screamed.
It worked. The glass shattered. Avery shielded her face with her good hand and waited for the shards to fall away. She grabbed her purse and reached for the flashlight again. If Rodney had a cell phone, it was either in the car, or it was ... oh damn. He could have been carrying it. Which meant if she had any chance, she’d have to-
Oh please no.
Avery crouched by the car and waited for the nausea to pass.
Okay, first things first. Check the car and hope for the best.
Not in the middle console. The driver’s side was hard to see since there was a large tree crushing that side of the car.
If only she had charged her phone last night. Or in the afternoon before she knew she was leaving. Charging her phone had been the last thing on her mind. Hindsight was definitely 20/20. Nothing she could do about it now.
Time to regroup. Avery slowly stood. With a shaky hand, Avery opened the glove box. Unable to keep her hand steady, the flashlight spotlighted a bottle of water on the floor board. Avery reached for it and then stopped. That bottle had to have been the one Rodney put something in to knock her out. No! She couldn’t have that water. Couldn’t take that chance.
Baby Stetson (Love and Music in Texas #1) Page 27