“Hey, man. Annie.” His eyes quickly met mine and left them just as quickly.
The dangerous looking man, who I assumed was named Sloan, was talking to Blake, but I couldn’t get myself to pay attention. I had to find a way to get out of here, find a phone and call John. I needed to get back to him and Zoey.
God. What would John think about me not being there when he woke up? Had he heard me when...
“Annie?” Patrick’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and he looked at me, his eyes raking over me, “Why don’t you and I do a couple of lines?”
“What?” A sick feeling twisted in my stomach.
I knew what that meant. I’d been around them in the past when they’d partied and did shit. Couples would go and do lines and mess around, hook up high as kites. No one ever asked to do stuff with me. Blake had determined me off limits.
“Yeah, Annie baby, ” Blake sneered at me, his eyes blank of emotion, but it was the way his lip twitched that told me he was angry. He’d always hated the way Pat and I had got along.
“Go with Patty. He’ll make you feel good.” Blake’s fingers dug into the sensitive flesh under my arms as he shoved me towards Patrick.
My heart raced and acid ran rampant in my stomach when I heard Blake say something about only using my mouth. Sloan chuckled. His ice-blue eyes on me, Patrick almost stumbled towards me, wrapping a hand over my shoulder and leading me to the back of the rundown house we were in.
“Patrick, please don’t, I just...I have to…” Panic hitting me, I could feel wetness at my eyes.
“Shhh,” he whispered, his arm around my shoulders, and I looked up at him. His eyes were no longer on me but behind me, and my stomach churned.
Had Patrick told Blake how to find me? Had I been played?
He led me into a room in the back of the small house. Closing the door behind us, he reached into his pocket and I took a step back.
“Pat.” My voice was soft and broken with fear; fear that I hated. Patrick frowned at me and pulled out his cell as well as a tiny plastic bag with white powder.
“I’m clean, Annie. I promise.” He told me, standing straight and no longer swaying.
“What?” My heart raced, leaving me feeling light-headed and confused. “But….”
“Here.” He handed me the plastic bag and I looked at him, “I’m clean, but I’m not a saint. Being here, around this shit…”
I closed my hand around his slightly shaking hand and took the baggie away, finally understanding what was going on.
“You’re here to save me?” I asked and he nodded, pulling me into his chest. He ran his hands through my shredded hair.
“You okay?” He asked and I nodded, trying to calm my heart, but my body was trembling. The shock and adrenaline were too much for me, but I couldn’t shut down. I had hope.
“Okay, babe. It’s going to be okay.” His hands were on his cell phone. I watched him text someone a message then looked up at him.
“I need to call John.”
“Shhh.” His hands patted the top of my head, smiling, “Who do you think sent me?”
“What?” I stepped away. Before he could answer, yelling started from the living room we’d just been in and Patrick pulled me behind him.
“No matter what, stay in here under the bed! Okay?” His ice-blue eyes were full of concern.
“Pat...”
“Promise me, Annie? No matter what, you stay in here,” he repeated, and I looked at the window. So damn close.
“But…” I started to suggest, but his hands went to my face.
“Promise.”
“I promise.” He nodded, his expression deadly. His hands reached behind him and he brought out a small gun. A knot formed in my throat at the possibility of something really, really bad happening.
“Hide, now!”
I hit the floor and scooted under the bed, closing my eyes, trying not to see what was down here and trying to block the disgusting smell. My mind blanked and focused on doing what Pat and the scary guy needed me to do to so that I was not in their way.
Loud shouting was going on, but it was too muffled for me to make out different voices. Two shots rang in the air, and I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to make a noise.
My eyes were closed in fear, but it didn’t stop the tears from running down my face or the hope in my heart.
Chapter Forty-Two
John
Two shots.
Two fucking shots rang out loudly in the summer air, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I could hear Matt Pierce yelling after me, but I didn’t look back. I kept running towards the back of the house where Pat had texted me he was with Anne. Reaching the window, I looked into the bare room. No one was in there. All I could see was a dirty bare mattress on a bed frame and trash on the floor.
Another shot rang through the air, and I reacted. I punched the window, shattering the glass, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even feel the sting of glass breaking my skin when I jumped into the room, somehow thankfully landing on both feet.
I looked at the rundown dirty room, knowing the shitty area the house was located in, and hated that my woman was anywhere near this.
“Anne?” I said into the eerily quiet room, but couldn’t make out a thing, and I wondered if the semi empty room was the wrong one.
“Kitten?” I whispered and then I heard it: a soft gasp coming from the empty disgusting bed. I knelt down and saw her bunched into a ball under the bed.
“Kitten, it’s me. Come on.”
“John?” Her tear-filled eyes looked at me. Her big eyes stood out in the darkness.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you…”
“Who the fuck are you?” A deep voice slurred, and I turned around, facing Blake Downey holding a gun in his slightly swaying hand as he pointed it right at me.
“John fucking Davenport,” he smirked, evil in his eyes, and I stood tall, taking slow steps away from the bed, not taking any chances with my woman getting hurt.
“Blake.”
“You know me?” He tilted his head. “Of course you fucking know me,” he laughed. “You took from me.” He yelled, swinging the hand that had hold of the gun towards his own chest as he continued yelling, “No one takes what is mine!” He screamed like a maniac, his eyes bright. He was obviously on something.
“She’s not yours,” I yelled back, my blood boiling. “Not anymore.” His eyes grew wider and crazier.
“She fucking is. She’s mine. If I can’t have her, then…No one can.” He turned the gun towards the bed, and I knew he was not going to hesitate to shoot, since his stare was nothing but evil. No. I can’t lose her, was my last clear thought before I lunged my body onto him. My shoulder connected with his chest, a bullet went off, hitting the drywall. Caught off guard, Blake lost control of the gun and we both watched it fly and land on the floor near us.
The gun away from us, I grabbed the son of a bitch, threw him against the cemented floor, and punched him. Thinking about every nightmare he’d made Anne live, I couldn’t seem to stop. I only saw red. Rage and anger flowing through me, my fists pounded into his face, but the fucker was only laughing like a damn maniac.
“She will always be mine. I own her!” He kept laughing, probably high as a kite, and I could care less.
I got off of him, moving to grab the gun off the floor, when he pounced on me, punching my side. I was able to push him off when a gunshot rang in the air. Blake’s eyes were locked on mine as he fell down to the floor, blood pooling around him, and I looked behind him. At the door, a very pale looking Pat was standing with one hand on his side, blood running down from what looked like a gunshot wound.
“Shit.” I started to take a step towards Patrick, but he shook his head.
“Get her out of here,” he strained, taking out his phone, “Go…”
“Pat, I can’t leave you here,” I told him.
“GO! I’ll take care of this.” I stared at him, at his body sliding down the wall
. He leaned his head against it. “Get her out of here, John… let me do this. I have a lot of shit to make up for in my life.”
“Man—”
“GO!”
Knowing he had a stubborn streak that rivaled Mike’s, I nodded and moved towards the bed. Anne’s eyes looked up to me. They were wider than usual as she looked down at my bloody hands. I took in the sight of her. Her body was covered in one of my white dress shirts, dirtied and slightly torn; her beautiful face was blotchy and red from crying; but her hair was what made me wonder what the fuck that asshole had done to her. It looked like it had literally been hacked off and it was slightly wet. I knelt in front of her.
My hands gently cupping her face, I looked at her. Her eyes didn’t move from mine.
“Close your eyes, Kitten. No matter what, don’t open them. I’m getting you out of here, okay?” I told her and she nodded. She closed her eyes and I picked her up, her face burrowing into my chest and her grasp on my shirt strong. I could feel her body shaking underneath my touch, and I whispered reassurances into her hair as I got her out of that hellhole.
Matt Pierce ran to meet us in the street and helped me move Anne into the SUV. I held her close on my lap as Matt got in the driver’s seat and drove us away.
Chapter Forty-Three
Anne
I held on to John for dear life, feeling weak, but I didn’t care. He felt too good and strong, I just wanted to attach myself to him.
“Shh,” his soothing voice calmed my erratic heartbeat. His face in my shredded hair, he whispered, “It’s okay now.”
“Pat and his friend?”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“But…”
“I promise you, Kitten. It’s going to be okay.” I nodded at his reassurance. “I need to know if he … did he…”
“No,” I immediately answered, thanking whoever had been looking out for me from up above. “He cut my hair with…a knife...” His eyes looked over my hair and I kept talking, “He kissed me, but he was so high. He just yelled. Patrick and that guy were there before he could do anything.” I heard a sigh of relief escape from him and burrowed my face deeper into his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin and cologne.
“Where’s Zoey?” I asked him.
“At Mike and Sabrina’s.” Relief swept over me at knowing she was somewhere safe and was protected by people who cared about her. I hoped she was oblivious to her mom missing.
“Good…How did you know where to…”
“When we get home, we’ll get you settled in, then we will talk, okay?” He pulled away and looked at me, scanning my face.
His hands moved to caress my face, but when we both looked at the state of his hand, bloodied and hurt, they stopped in midair. But I grabbed them with both of my hands and leaned my forehead to his.
“He can never hurt you again. He can never hurt anyone again. Not you or Zoey.” His voice was steady and confident, almost like a vow, and I nodded, even though I thought he was telling himself more than he was me.
“You’re staying with me,” he broke the silence, and a sob lodged itself in my throat. After it was all said and done, he still wanted me.
“I know,” I told him as his eyes were searching for something in mine.
“We’re getting married and we are all going to be Davenports, because I’m adopting Zoey.”
“Okay,” I whispered, tears rolling down my face.
“I will keep you and Zoey safe. No one will ever—"
“I know.” I unclenched his hands, letting our palms touch, somehow making that small touch feel very intimate. More intimate than anything before this.
“And we’re having more kids.” I looked at him. I could see the worry in his eyes that I might reject the idea, and I smiled at him.
“A hill full of them.” My nose was stinging and he looked at me. His rugged gruff exterior couldn’t hide the warmth and love that filtered through the dark pools of his eyes when he showed his soft side.
The soft side he’d shown Zoey and I since the night of the storm. The side of him he’d one day show our children.
Chapter Forty-Four
John
I got Anne settled into bed after a steaming shower and headed down to get food from the kitchen and call Sabrina and Mike to double-check on Zoey. Sabrina told me she was okay, sleeping right now next to Nikki in her crib. She told me to tell Anne to rest and that we would see them in the morning. Mike on the other hand, was serious, and I could feel the worry wafting off of him over the phone.
“What happened to Pat?”
“He’s fine. He’s in Cedars-Sinai.”
“I know. My dad called. Did he have something to do with Anne being taken?” There was an edge in his voice, one I hadn’t heard in a very long time.
“No, man. He had something to do with getting her back.” My voice sounded defeated.
“John…”
“I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But for now, just know that your brother, as much as he messed up in the past, today, he saved her.” My voice cracked, and I looked at the dark wood of my desk, closing my eyes, not wanting to because when I did, all I would see was Anne under that fucking bed, her eyes terrified. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and leaned my head back against my chair, trying to ignore the wetness in my eyes.
“He saved her, Mike. He saved her,” I cracked, and silent tears ran down my face, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. “If it wasn’t for him finding out as quickly as he did with his friend Sloan… Mike, he used a knife to cut her hair off. All her fucking hair is shredded.”
“John…”
“She could have died, he could have ruined her…” The endless possibilities of what Blake Downey could have done to her were running rampant in my head.
“You need to hold it together, man… for her.” His voice was calm and steady. I knew he was right.
“I know.” I swallowed hard, trying to breathe, but somehow not fully able to take a complete breath.
“If you want, I can come over, if you want to talk.”
“No...I got it.”
“She’s safe, John. No one can hurt her.”
“I’ll kill them before they do,” I vowed and I heard him sigh. “I’m going to marry her, Mike.” I was. “Tell Sabrina I hope she knows how to plan quickly. I’ll give her a month.” Decision made, I didn’t know how, but I’d talk Anne into it.
“John. Look, I know you are scared, but the drama is over, you don’t have to rush.”
“I’m not. I’m forty-three Mike, I know what I want,” I told him.
“Do you love her?” He asked and I froze. Love. Fuck. Can I do love?
“Mike…” I did. It was a knee-jerk reaction to the question. I fucking loved her and Zoey, but Belle’s words repeated themselves in my head. People like us can’t have weaknesses. And growing up, watching my parents, love was a huge fucking weakness.
“You love her. John, you need to tell her. Trust me, she….” Usually, I could handle Mike’s advice, but maybe everything that had happened throughout the day had worn me thin, so I cut him off.
“A month, Mike.” The line stayed silent, neither one of us saying anything else, and I knew he was going to give in when he sighed.
“Okay, I’ll tell her. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah… Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ll be my best man, right?”
“Of course, man. Anything you need,” he answered like I knew he would before he hung up.
Anne
I felt him enter the room. His size took up substantial space even in a huge master bedroom. Whenever he entered any space I was in, he somehow changed the feel of the air around us. I was curled up in a ball in bed, hugging the pillow that smelled like John and home. The house was quiet and big, built in an era when craftsmanship had been taken seriously, but even then I had still heard what he’d said to Mike on the phone.
“Kitten?�
�� He whispered, probably checking if I was asleep, I just didn’t know what to say. Not after hearing his conversation.
“I’m going to marry her, Mike.”
The bed dipped and his body curled into mine. I let the relief hit me when our bodies curled into one another, loving the way we fit, like two perfect pieces of a puzzle.
“I know you’re awake.” His voice vibrated in my hair.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Hungry?”
“Not really. Are you? I can…”
“Shhh… I’m okay. I’ll eat with you.”
“Okay.” His hold on me tightened as we lay in silence. My mind was racing. Does he love me? Love both Zoey and I?
“Thirsty?” He asked, and I looked back at him.
“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him. I’d also heard the way he’d broken down. He’d been scared, too.
“Yeah,” his voice thickened as he made me fully turn around. My face was in his neck, and I loved the way he wrapped himself around me with his whole being; with his arms and legs, as if somehow he was anchoring me to him.
“Zoey okay?”
“Yeah. She’s asleep with Nikki.”
“Good.”
“You heard me?”
“Yes,” I whispered against his bare chest, burrowing my face, breathing in his scent. There was something about the way John smelled that made me want to bask in the masculine scent he radiated.
“Good,” he simply said, and I a bit away a smile. “A month okay?” He asked, and for a second I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking. Pulling my face away to look at him, I could see with one look he was more than serious.
“A month?”
“For us to get married. I’ll adopt Zoey.”
“John…”
He sat us up, making the way he moved us look easy. Straddling him, his hand touching the tips of my still shorn hair, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious.
Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3) Page 24