Saving Avery

by Angela Snyder

  Eric speaks up with, "Well, I knew your old man back in college. Let's just say he bailed my ass out of some things back then, so I definitely owed him a favor." He claps a hand on Lance's shoulder. "And I knew I could count on Romero here to help me."

  Lance slowly nods. His features darken as he says, "My sister was killed by her abusive boyfriend. I was only a kid back then and couldn't stop it. But now I make it my mission to find assholes like Nathan Mason and see that they get the justice they deserve."

  I nod my head solemnly. Nothing more needs to be said. He understands my frustration and anxiety. He gets it. "So where do we start?" I ask.

  Eric looks up from his notes. "We start with the father, Chief Mason. If Nathan has been in contact at all, we'll find that out. Then we'll move from there until we can find out where Nathan might be holed up with Avery."

  I swallow hard. Facing Nathan's father face to face and having the truth about his son divulged is not going to be easy. But at this point, there is no other way. He will have to listen to the truth whether he wants to hear it or not.

  *

  Chief Richard Mason stands up from behind his desk to shake our hands. "Have a seat, gentlemen," he says, motioning to the chairs in front of the large oak desk.

  Lance, Eric and I comply as Chief Mason sits back down in his scarred leather chair. "I usually don't have people barging in here at five o'clock on a Friday evening flashing badges." His voice is cordial, but his expression is anything but. "I have to say I'm intrigued considering I haven't gotten any calls from the State Bureau of Investigation telling me that I was to expect some visitors." He eyes Agent Romero as he speaks.

  "We have reason to believe there was a possible kidnapping Wednesday night." Lance leans forward in his chair. "Do you know where your son is, Mr. Mason?"

  Richard drums his fingers nervously on the armrest of the chair. "What exactly is this about, and why does it involve Nathan?"

  Eric pulls out his notepad and flips to the first page. "Wednesday night your son and Avery Mason were at a fundraising campaign for her father. We have a witness who says Avery was forced into a car and taken against her will. Have you heard from Nathan since Wednesday night, Mr. Mason?"

  Nathan's father suddenly looks flustered. "What in God's name are you talking about? My son would never kidnap his own wife!" He stands up and paces behind his desk.

  Eric continues. "Your husband has been physically and mentally abusing Avery for quite some time. Were you aware of that?"

  Richard stops and looks pointedly at Eric. "You have some nerve coming in here with these ridiculous accusations! My son would never hurt anyone. He is a respected member of the community. He is a plastic surgeon. He is ---."

  "I don't give a fuck what he does for a living or how he pretends to act in front of members of society," Lance interrupts. "We want to know if you were aware of the abuse. It's a simple yes or no answer."

  Richard shakes his head. "Nathan would never ---." His voice trails off, and I can see that he's in deep thought. He sinks down into his chair, and it's several minutes before he finally answers. "There was a girl in college that accused Nathan of hurting her, but she dropped all charges as soon as she saw the cash settlement. How do I know the same thing isn't happening here?"

  I shake my head slowly. So Nathan has a history of abusing women. Just because they shut her up with hush money doesn't mean he didn't hurt the girl. "I saw the bruises," I say, speaking up. Eric gives me a sideways glance, but I ignore him. "He hit her. He abused her physically and mentally, and now he's holding her somewhere against her will. We need to find her before it's too late."

  Chief Mason raises his gaze to me. "I haven't spoken to him since Tuesday," he says quietly. "I don't know where they could be."

  Lance stands and puts his palms flat on his desk. He looks tall and menacing, and I'm so grateful that he's on my side. "Try calling him. Now," he orders.

  Richard pulls open a desk drawer and retrieves his cell phone. He dials the number while we all wait in suspense. After several tries, Richard finally says, "He's not answering his phone." He frowns. "That's not like Nathan. He always answers when I call," he says, his voice distant.

  Eric pulls out a pen. "They're definitely not at their house, so any idea where he could have taken her?"

  Chief Mason places a hand on his desk to steady himself as he stands. "Our family owns numerous vacation homes and rental properties." He sighs heavily. "There are a lot of places that he could have taken her."

  Eric readies the pen. "Start with the most likely possibilities, and we'll go from there."

  As Eric and Chief Mason go over the numerous properties, Agent Romero and I step out into the hallway. "We need to split up to cover more ground. I'm going to ask the chief to lend us some of his men to help."

  I like Lance's way of thinking. Every hour that goes by without finding Avery is another hour that she could be getting hurt…or worse. I shudder at the thought. "He has a plastic surgery practice on Eighth Avenue. I'll swing by there and ask his staff some questions."

  "Good idea," Agent Romero replies. "Eric and I will start on this list and see if we can come up with any new information. Call me if you find out anything."

  "Will do."

  *

  Nathan Mason's office is exactly how I pictured. Numerous posters line the sterile, white walls as I walk to his secretary's desk. The posters claim that if you are an ugly duckling, Dr. Mason can make you beautiful. There are before and after photos of lip injections and face lifts. It's his job to make beautiful people feel horrible about themselves so that they will consent to excessive and expensive surgery. He makes people feel as if they're not good enough for society and that they need to change. If only his professional life didn't mirror his personal life.

  Nathan Mason's secretary is exactly how I pictured as well --- a buxom blonde with full lips and dressed in one of the shortest skirts I have ever seen a woman wear. She looks up at me with bright blue eyes as I approach the desk. "Hello. How may I help you?" she asks. Her mouth barely moves when she talks, and I wonder briefly if she gets a discount on surgery.

  "Is Nathan Mason here?"

  "Dr. Mason is on vacation."

  Vacation. I curl my fingers around the edge of the desk. So he contacted his secretary. I need to know everything she knows. "Was this a planned vacation?"

  She shakes her head. "Oh no. It was quite sudden actually." She rolls her eyes. "In fact, so sudden that I have had a terrible time rescheduling all of his appointments."

  "Did he say when he was going to be back?"

  She nods. "Yeah. He said not to expect him back until Monday." Her eyes narrow as she stares at me. "Are you a friend of Dr. Mason?"

  I decide the best choice here is to lie. "Yes. I'm a friend of the family. We've been trying to reach Dr. Mason. His father is in the hospital."

  Her blue eyes widen. "Is his father all right?"

  "It's not looking good. We really need to reach Nathan, and he's not answering his phone. Any way you can help me out?"

  She glances down at the desk and rummages through some papers. "I only have his cell phone and house number. I don't have any other number to reach him."

  My hands tighten around the desk. "Did he happen to mention where he was going?"

  She holds up her finger as she rummages through the notes on her desk. "Yes, he did actually. I know I wrote it down somewhere. I write everything down since I'm so forgetful." She smiles and pulls out a slip of paper. "He said he was going to the cabin on the lake to do some fishing."

  "Address?"

  She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know the address."

  I curse silently in my head and then tell the secretary, "Thank you." I pull my cell phone out of my pocket on the way to my car.

  Lance answers on the first ring. "Romero."

  "I think I know where they are. Nathan told his secretary that he's at the cabin on the lake."

  "Cabin on the lake,"
Lance says to whoever's in the room with him. He rattles off an address, and I jot it down on a piece of paper. "The chief said it's about a thirty-minute drive from here."

  I pull the car out of the parking lot and hop onto the highway. "I'm on my way."

  "Now, just wait a minute, Max. You need to let us do our job. We're going to get a tactical team ready. When we know it's safe, then you can ---."

  "I'm sorry, but it might already be too late. I'm not wasting another damn second without finding out if she's all right."

  "Nathan could be armed. You can't just go barging in there!" Lance yells.

  "Then I suggest you hurry," I say before hanging up the phone. I'll make it to the cabin before the police, but at this point I don't care. Nothing matters right now except for Avery. I need to find her. I need to get her away from that monster before it's too late. My foot pushes down on the gas pedal as I speed down the highway. "Hang on, Avery. I'm coming."

  CHAPTER 17

  AVERY

  Pain wracks my body, and I shiver uncontrollably in the dining room chair. The seconds, minutes and hours blur together, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever get out of this hell.

  Nathan sits across the table, calm as ever, as he eats dinner. "Eat, Avery," he demands, before bringing a spoonful of soup to his mouth. "You'll need your strength for what I have planned for you tonight."

  His words chill me to the bone. If I thought he was cruel and sadistic before, I'm getting a look at a whole other side to him that I didn't know existed --- that I never could have fathomed existing. The person on the other side of the table from me is a sick and twisted monster. I can't even see a glimpse of who Nathan once was. This person is a complete stranger to me.

  I stare down at the bowl, and the smell of the food sickens me. My heavy eyelids droop. My body wants to keep succumbing to the cold and numbness, and I wonder briefly if I'm dying.

  "Eat!" Nathan yells. "Don't make me force you, Avery, because I promise you won't like it."

  His voice brings me back to the present, and I stare at the soup through narrowed eyes. With an exorbitant amount of effort, I manage to grasp the spoon. My hand trembles, and the metal clacks against the bowl as I try to gather a spoonful.

  A buzzing sound distracts me, and my eyes snap up. Nathan pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, and I eye it greedily. While I'm trying to formulate a plan in my head on how to steal his phone, he begins to chuckle to himself. "Your sister sends a lot of texts," he remarks.

  Allison is texting Nathan. A feeling of hope blooms in my chest. Does she know I've been kidnapped? Maybe my family and Max are looking for me.

  "And she sends a lot of nudes," Nathan says with a smirk. He eyes me carefully from across the table, waiting for my reaction.

  My head is too foggy from the pain to even comprehend why my sister would be sending him nude pictures. I look up at him with a questioning look on my face.

  "Oh, come on, Avery. You're not that stupid. Figure it out," he says with a dismissing wave of his hand.

  I think back to when I met Allison over lunch to talk about divorcing Nathan. She was clearly on team Nathan for a reason I couldn't fathom at the time. And then I remember the way they were dancing together at my father's campaign event, how close they seemed, how carefree and happy together.

  My fingers clench around the spoon. Allison wouldn't help me because she was too busy sleeping with my husband. She believed him over me, her own sister. A spike of adrenaline courses through my body, and I stand up quickly, knocking over my chair in the process. My hands grip the bowl of soup, and before I can even think about what I'm doing, I launch the bowl across the table at Nathan.

  The hot soup splashes over him, and the bowl strikes him in the forehead before crashing to the floor. A cry of triumph erupts from my throat. So many times I have dreamed of hitting him, hurting him like he has hurt me. But the joy is short-lived, however, when he slowly stands and glares at me with an intense and blistering gaze.

  His fingertips go to the bump forming on his forehead, and he swipes at the blood seeping from his head wound. He lowers his hand and stares at the blood on his fingers for a long time. "You're going to pay for that," he says with an eerily calm voice.

  With one swift move, he knocks the table over and stalks towards me. I make the front door my goal, but I can't move fast enough. My feet don't want to cooperate, and my legs feel like jelly. I only make it as far as the next room before Nathan tackles me to the hardwood floor. A powerful scream erupts from my lungs as he turns me over so that I'm on my back. His hands hold down my arms when I try to fight him off.

  "You will not defy me!" he shouts. His hands move from my arms and latch around my throat.

  I claw at his arms as I struggle to breathe. He squeezes tighter and tighter, the wicked grin on his face widening as I gasp for air. My body bucks under him, but he's too big, too strong. I launch my knees into his back, but he doesn't budge. He's firmly planted on top of me with a crazy look in his eyes. He's going to kill me this time. I just know it.

  Gradually, my limbs start to go limp, and shadows creep into the edge of my vision. I gasp desperately for air, but my lungs are painfully denied a single breath. I'm on the verge of passing out, but I continue to struggle. I don't want to go into the darkness. I want to go towards the light, towards Max. But Max isn't here to save me. No one is.

  I try to drag in a breath, but his grip is too tight. My vision blurs as I start to slip into unconsciousness.

  Max.

  I love you.

  Max is the last thing on my mind as my mouth gapes open for one last unsuccessful gasp. And then I do the one thing I promised myself I would never do.

  I stop fighting.

  *

  MAX

  It only takes me twenty minutes to make the drive to the cabin. My GPS alerts me that the destination is just right ahead, and I curl my hands around the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. The woods are so thick along the gravel driveway that I can't even see the house yet. My foot presses down on the gas pedal as my anxiety builds. Dust and gravel kick up on the road behind me as I accelerate a little more. If Avery isn't here, then this is just time wasted in my efforts to find her. But something in my gut is telling me that this is right. She's here. I can feel it.

  And when the black BMW comes into view in the driveway, my stomach twists into knots. They're here, but is Avery still alive? I banish the thought from my head before I can even dwell on it. I have to believe that she's okay. Until I see otherwise, I have to believe that.

  I pull off the gravel road and park where my vehicle is almost invisible amongst the trees. I slowly climb out of the SUV and close the door as quietly as I can. Checking my watch, I bite my lower lip nervously. The team is probably ten minutes behind me. Maybe more. Maybe less. But I can't wait.

  Staying crouched down low, I make my way towards the large cabin. I slowly climb the steps to the porch and wait. No movement. No sounds. I press my ear to the door, and I hear a loud noise. It sounds like something was knocked over. And then I hear Avery screaming. It's a blood-curdling scream that pierces me right down to my very soul and turns my blood to pure ice.

  Adrenaline courses through my veins. I reach for the doorknob. It's locked. I run to the window and try to lift it, but it won't budge. Fuck! Panicked, I look around for something, anything. I grab one of the metal patio chairs and turn it so the legs are facing away from me. With all of my might, I ram it against the window. The glass shatters.

  I don't even take my time making my way inside as shards of glass cut me all over, ripping my shirt and jeans and skin in the process. I take in the scene before me. The table is overturned, and Nathan is on top of Avery with his hands on her throat. Nathan glances up at me, and the look in his eyes is pure evil.

  My gaze flickers to Avery. She's lifeless on the floor. I'm too late. He killed her.

  Nathan stands and makes a move towards me. "You son of a bitch!" I yell. I take off in a
fast sprint and drive the chair legs right into his chest. He grunts and stumbles back into the wall.

  Tossing the chair to the side, I throw a hard punch that connects with his jaw. God, it feels so good to finally do that. He falls to the floor in a heap. I want to make him feel the pain he caused Avery. I want to kill him. My hands run through my hair in frustration, pulling at the ends. No. I have to focus on Avery first. I'll deal with that piece of shit later.

  I rush over and kneel down at her side. My fingertips are at her bruised neck, trying to locate a pulse while I lean down to her mouth to check if she's breathing. "Please," I whisper. I wait. I pray. I try to hold myself together during those excruciating seconds. And then I feel a faint beating of her heart against the pads of my fingers and a light wheeze as she takes a shallow breath. "Oh, thank God!" I cry with relief.

  I don't want to move her in case her neck is broken, so I pull her hand into my mine and hold it tightly. "I'm here, Avery. It's going to be okay. Just hold on." I yank my cell phone from my pocket with the intent to call 9-1-1.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Nathan says from behind me.

  A clicking noise fills the silence of the room, and it takes me a moment to register the sound. When I turn and drag my gaze upwards, I see Nathan standing ten feet away with a gun pointed at my chest. Blood is dripping from his lopsided mouth, and I have no doubt that his jaw is broken. His lips are curled up in a misshapen sneer. "So you're the guy who's been fucking my wife," he slurs.

  I slowly stand, putting myself as a barrier between the gun and Avery. He won't hurt her anymore. I won't allow it. But if he does shoot me, I won't be able to protect her. And that thought kills me more than any bullet could.