Adrift (Kill Devil Hills Book 4)

by Sarah Darlington

  “What man?” Nathanial asked.

  “The asshole sitting beside me who was listening in on our conversation. That man.”

  Judging by the blank stare on his face, he didn't have a clue who I meant.

  “Fuck.” I ran my hands through my hair, tugging the shit out of it, while my eyes scanned the crowd around me for either this person—that, frankly, I didn’t get a really good look at—or Juniper. “I got a funny vibe from the man sitting beside us. I ignored it. What if it was Quinton? What if he took her? What if—?” Oh God, I couldn't even think past that.

  I left the others behind, pushing and shoving my way through the crowded bar, until my hands hit the doors and fresh air hit my face. I thought, maybe, just maybe, I still might have enough time to catch him taking her—if indeed that was what was happening.

  But…nothing.

  Like a crazy person, I frantically started searching the parking lot. A few people lingered outside, smoking cigarettes, laughing, chatting. But otherwise it was deserted and there was no sign of her. I asked a few strangers if they’d seen her or noticed anything strange—no one had.

  It felt like my whole entire world was slipping through my fingers.

  He'd taken her.

  Quinton had taken her.

  Somehow, I just knew he had. Every fiber of my being screamed it. He’d done it so easily too—right in front of all of us. I promised to protect her, and I’d failed. My eyes left her for only a couple minutes and now she was gone. I dropped to my knees struggling to keep it together, struggling to think straight, struggling to formulate a plan for what I needed to do next.

  It was Noah that pulled me from the gravel, back to my feet. He and the others had joined me outside in the darkened parking lot. “Tell me everything you can about the person you saw.”

  My stomach was acid. “Um…” Pinching my eyes shut, I tried to focus. “White. Man. Um, late twenties, maybe. My height. Suit.” Yes, he’d been wearing a suit. I think. “Blond… maybe? I don’t know. It’s not like I was studying him.”

  “Okay,” Noah said, speaking calmly and quickly. “And we know she’s from Virginia? Right? So if he’s abducted her the car would have Virginia plates.” Noah took a breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Rhett and Nathanial—you two drive south, toward Highway 64. Be on the lookout for anyone driving fast, maybe recklessly, with Virginia plates. Ben and I will go toward the north bridge.”

  Everyone knew there were only two bridges in and out of the OBX. Unless Quinton had kidnapped Juniper and taken her somewhere local, his only options were to drive either north or south, and he’d have to leave the islands over one of the two bridges. If we could catch them before they hit either bridge, we might just have a chance at saving her. Noah’s plan was a sound one.

  “Aston Martin db11,” Rhett randomly added.

  We all stared at him.

  “What? I like cars,” he said. “And Juniper and I had a conversation about it. He might not be in that car, as he owns several, but of the ones Juniper mentioned him owning, that one is the fastest. That would be my getaway car.”

  For the first time, I did not even care that Rhett had spent so much time with her that he knew something I didn’t know. I was thankful he had, thankful he’d asked her such dumb, random questions that I never would have thought to ask.

  Noah nodded. He turned his attention to Ellie. Under the moonlight, my sister’s face was pale and her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she attentively hung onto every word Noah said. “Call the police for us,” he said to her. “Then get back inside, get on the mike, get every person in that damn bar searching for her, searching their phones for pictures of her or this guy. He was sitting close to Nathanial—someone had to have gotten a picture with him in it. Okay? Then find the bar manager. Figure out if they have security footage or whatever. Georgie—help her, keep your phone in your hand, and call me if you find anything. Alright. Let's go.”

  Now that Noah had finished barking out directions, we all split up. Noah and I ran across the street to Noah’s parked Honda, where we both hurriedly clamored inside. He started the ignition and we sped off, heading north.

  I said a silent pray that we would find her. That she and the babies would be safe and unharmed. We had to find her. I wouldn’t be able to survive if something happened to her.

  CHAPTER 20:

  JUNIPER

  Quinton. Here. In the flesh.

  I was in the middle of a conversation with Owen. We were debating about something trivial when I glanced across the crowded bar. I couldn’t help it, my eyes kept automatically seeking out Ben. He and Nathanial sat next to one another at the bar, deep in their own conversation. Singing in front of people was never going to be easy for me, and I was anxiously waiting on the clock. Only a couple more minutes until it was time to begin. Having Ben not far helped calm my nerves, if only slightly. I wanted to get his attention one more time, though, before I had to begin. Part of me was always craving just one more look or moment from him, but he wasn’t looking my way. And that was when I noticed the man sitting on Ben’s other side. Quinton.

  His green eyes were dead locked on mine.

  A very small, very sadistic smile, one I’d seen many times before, touched his lips as we made eye-contact.

  Once, as a young girl, I’d been swinging too high on the swings. It had started to rain, but still I swung, desperate for a few more minutes of fun before I had to go home. When suddenly I lost my grip on the chains and fell several feet through the air, landing flat on my back in the mulch below. The air left my lungs, and for a couple scary moments I couldn’t breathe in or out. That was what seeing Quinton felt like. The inability to breathe. The inability to think. The inability to move.

  I stood onstage completely paralyzed.

  How had he found me? I’d been nothing but careful. More importantly—why the fuck was he sitting next to Ben? A split second later, he answered my question as he adjusted his body on his seat. The moment he did so, he let his suit jacket fall open for a fraction of a second, just enough time to expose the gun he held—pointed directly to his left and at Ben.

  And suddenly I was at Quinton's mercy.

  Outside, he mouthed.

  If I listened and went outside, I'd be putting myself in danger. But if he somehow hurt Ben, I'd never be able to forgive myself.

  “You should go outside,” Owen said, suddenly speaking up from beside me. “He only wants a chance to talk.”

  “What did you say?” I turned to Owen—skinny, nerdy, innocent, unsuspecting Owen.

  “He knows where you live.” Owen moved closer, his nose uncomfortably close to my nose. A nasty side I'd never seen emerged as he glared at me. “He knows where Ben works, where Rose goes to school, that Georgina is his sister and that she's pregnant. He knows everything about you and about Ben. If he doesn't get his chance to talk with you tonight then tomorrow he starts hurting the people you care about.”

  “How could you, Owen?” I whispered. I was beyond stunned, but mostly appalled.

  “I have my reasons. Now outside,” he growled in a low tone. “Or I give Quinton the signal that you're unwilling to corporate.”

  I glanced to where Quinton was sitting. But he was gone from his spot beside Ben. He could be anywhere now. Ben and Nathanial were still talking, they'd noticed nothing.

  It all came down to the fact that I couldn't risk Ben's life, or Georgina's, or Ellie's, or anyone's in this bar. Quinton was here because of my mistakes. He was my problem to deal with. I had to face him. I had to tell him the truth. I had to hope that we could speak like rational adults.

  “Okay,” I said as I followed Owen off stage. My stomach churned with every step. I was not ready to face Quinton. But I knew, deep down, no matter what, he wouldn't hurt me while I was carrying his children. I had to believe that.

  The outside air felt thick and heavy. The buzzing of insects, the muffled beat of the bar’s music, and the laughs of a few people l
ingering somewhere in the parking lot filled my ears. Owen led me amongst the cars, many of them double parked, and some parked in dirt and sand—as the parking lot couldn’t accommodate the number of patrons here for tonight’s show. He led me straight to Quinton.

  I stopped walking at the sight of my ex, keeping several feet between us.

  “Juniper,” he purred, his voice as soothing and suave as ever. “You’re looking…fun tonight. Trying out a singing career, are we?” He flicked his hand, like he was shooing off an insect, in a gesture meant for Owen. “Go,” he told him. “I’ll deposit the second portion of your money into the account you gave me tomorrow.”

  Owen didn’t wait around. He quickly backed away and left us.

  Part of me almost expected Quinton to explode with anger or yelling, even though he’d never been much of a yeller, but he continued to remain calm. I guess he didn’t have to yell. A calm Quinton terrified me just the same as an irate one.

  “I have one question for you June—have you let him fuck you?” He spoke matter-of-factly but lingered on the word him as if Ben were the vilest person alive. “Have you let him touch you the way I once touched you? Let him feel you from the inside? Let him spread his seed inside you?”

  I swallowed hard, an icy shiver running through me. Quinton always picked his words carefully. And just like the way his hands used to feel on my throat, his words had a similar effect. “Yes. I have.”

  “While pregnant with my children?” he added. “Owen told me you have twins growing inside you. My twins. My twins tainted by another man. You disappoint me. You know what happens when you disappoint me.”

  “I’m not yours to disappoint anymore,” I told him as confidently as I could manage. Even after all this time, he still had such an easy way of frightening me. But I’d grown in the time since I’d left him. I was stronger now.

  Hold your own, I told myself.

  “I’m his. I love him now,” I said. “So, yes, he gets to touch me and spread his ‘seed’ in me any way he likes. And the twins aren’t yours. They’re his.”

  Quinton’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know they’re mine.” He let out a low hiss. “And don’t backtalk me ever again.” He reached in his pocket, momentarily making me freeze as I thought perhaps he was about to pull out the gun I saw earlier. But he pulled out a cellphone instead. I might have been less terrified by such a harmless electronic device, but he flashed the screen in my direction. On it there was a picture of a young girl—

  Rose. Ben’s youngest sister.

  “Does this little girl look familiar?” he asked.

  “What do you want?” I demanded. “I’ve left you. It’s over. What does Ben’s little sister have to do with us? Nothing. She’s innocent—”

  “Stop talking,” he hissed. “And get in my fucking car.” He pointed to the car door right beside where he stood. “Or this little girl will be the first person I hurt. Owen isn’t the only idiot I’ve paid to do my bidding in the town. It doesn’t take much money to get people to do what you want. I’ve been watching you for weeks. I know all your friends. Rhett, Noah, Sydney—I could go on and on. I know their friends even. And their family. House addresses. Favorite TV shows. You name it, I know it. And this little girl right here—” He held up his phone with her picture one more time. “—will be the person I hurt first if you don’t get in the car.”

  Did I have a choice?

  I got in his car.

  CHAPTER 21:

  BEN

  This wasn’t working. Twenty minutes down the road and we were already crossing the Wright Memorial Bridge. So far, we’d seen plenty of Virginia plates, passing them all, as I scanned the drivers of each and every vehicle for the man from the bar. Which was nearly impossible in the dark. We’d been keeping in touch with Ellie. The police had arrived now. They’d found a clear picture of Quinton in someone’s cell phone photos. Ellie had even sent it to me. I knew exactly who I was looking for. But looking for him felt like looking for a single grain of sand at the bottom of an Olympic sized pool.

  “Oh God, what if…” I began. Insurmountable worry gripped me again.

  “No. Concentrate, Ben. Concentrate on the cars we pass,” Noah demanded.

  I had new respect for Noah. He’d taken charge in the parking lot when I myself had started falling apart. And ever since then, it had been Noah keeping us both focused and Noah’s optimism that had been unwavering and unfaltering. My confidence was so fragile, I knew that at any given moment I might come unhinged. I felt incredibly lucky to have Noah here with me now.

  “Here comes another Virginia plate.”

  At this point we were scanning every car we passed, but still paying extra attention to the Virginia plates. It was a beat-up Ford truck, probably older than me. The person driving was driving rather fast and kept cutting over the middle line. It took Noah an extra minute to catch the truck.

  With my eyes straining, Noah passed the truck on the left.

  The driver came into view.

  “Thank Christ,” I exhaled.

  “What?” Noah gasped.

  “It’s him. I think.”

  The windows on the truck weren’t tinted. And because of the bridge, which was especially well lit, I could clearly see the man driving the truck.

  It was him. The suit, the hair—him.

  “Motherfucking Quinton. Okay,” I said to Noah. “Slow down—slowly. Let’s follow behind. But not too close because he can’t know he’s being followed. We’ll wait until he gets to where he’s going and stops the truck. It’s not like I want to try to run him off the road with Juniper inside.”

  “Good idea. Are you absolutely certain it’s him?”

  “Yes.”

  Noah did as I asked, easing up on the gas, letting his car fall behind Quinton’s truck. Then he signaled and switched lanes.

  I took a breath and suddenly I had a renewed sense of hope. I had no idea what I’d do once the car in front of us stopped—fight Quinton to the death if I had to—but at least now I knew where Juniper was.

  “Let’s just hope he needs gas before we need gas—I only have about an eighth of a tank.”

  “Shit, Noah, really?” I snapped at him. “You’re tell me this now?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you prematurely. But yeah.”

  If he didn’t stop soon then maybe we would have to run him off the road.

  CHAPTER 22:

  JUNIPER

  Zip ties. Motherfucking zip ties.

  I knew Quinton was an asshole. But seriously? I was pregnant for crying out loud and he was treating me like this was the zombie apocalypse and I was some rabid beast in need of restraining. I’d already gotten into his car willingly. What more did he want? But no…he’d gone and bound my hands together. Then he tied each of my ankles to the seat. I couldn’t see past my stomach to see exactly where and how he’d tied them. But I was starting to sweat from working as hard as I was to keep my thighs semi-closed. The way he’d tied my ankles, each as far apart as they could go on opposite ends of the seat, had left me in a very vulnerable position. Especially since he kept touching me in little ways—little ways that kept growing bolder and bolder, and more and more unwelcome. Not that any of this was welcome.

  The crazy part was—I actually knew how to break out of zip ties. It required tightening them as much as possible and one swift motion down against my stomach—a movement meant to break the mechanism that held the zip tie together. Only problem: my stomach. I couldn’t hit it with the force I needed while pregnant. Still—every time Quinton looked over his shoulder to change lanes, I used my teeth to further tighten the plastic. Because it had to be as tight as possible to break.

  At this point, my fingers were tingling from lack of circulation. The sensation was so intense that I could almost block out all the cruel and nasty things Quinton had been saying since he started driving.

  Almost, but not quite.

  “I can’t wait to teach you a lesson, Juniper,”
he murmured. “You have me so hard. You have no idea. I can’t wait for it.You’re going to love it more than ever. I know you’ve missed it. You know how I found you, sweetheart? A viral video of you singing. God—I never knew you could be so sexy.” He reached over, brushing a few strains of hair from my face. My 80’s shirt had one shoulder exposed and he traced his fingers over my bare skin. “So damn sexy.”

  His touch made me want to disappear into a hole like one of Ben’s sand crabs. And how was I supposed to know a video of me singing had gone viral? I’d been so careful with everything, but I’d never even considered something like that being the cause of him finding me.

  Quinton kept making lude comments, while I remained as still as possible. It seemed the more I fought and argued with him, the more it was turning him on. He kept talking about sex, too, about teaching me a lesson, and it was disgusting. Beyond disgusting. How could I have ever loved him?

  I prayed for a way out. But it seemed this was my reality now.

  “What are you going to do? Lock me up in some basement forever? I don’t love you anymore. It’s over. Can’t you understand that?” Tears slipped down my cheeks. I turned my head toward the window. I didn’t want Quinton to see me upset. I didn’t want him to think he still had any power over me.

  “No. You’re going to be my wife—just like you promised on the day I asked you to marry me. Just like you promised. Dammit, Juniper, how could you? I thought something terrible had happened to you. You went to the grocery store and you never came home. How could you just leave me like that?” He sounded hurt as he spoke. Hell, maybe I had hurt him. But not half as bad as he used to enjoy hurting me.

  “I left because I wanted something better. I left because you scare me. Just like you’re scaring me now.” I held up my tied hands as proof.