Calm down. I try to regulate my breathing, but I’m struggling involuntarily. Okay, Shay, stop moving. The ropes are cutting into my wrists and ankles.
“Good morning, sunshine.” I don’t recognize the voice. I can tell that it’s male, but he’s disguising it with a gravelly whisper. “You don’t have to answer, my love.”
I try to scream through the gag, but the sound is getting trapped in the fabric. My entire body is trembling, not even in the void was I this frightened.
He inhales deeply. “You smelled delicious before, but now layered with the smell of fear coming off you, you are positively intoxicating.” The voice whispers in my ear. “And now you’re mine.”
He presses his wet tongue against my cheek and licks all the way up my face. I’m fucking disgusted. Please, God, somebody save me. I struggle away from him, but I can’t go far. The binds are tight and don’t allow much movement. My screams get trapped in my mouth.
Cold metal presses up against my bare arm and slides from my shoulder down to my elbow. More muffled screams come from within me, paired with every cut he makes on my skin.
“You can scream all you want. We’re in the middle of nowhere without another soul within miles.”
I try to breathe as deeply as possible and focus on the smell of gasoline and grass clippings. A spark of hope enters my mind as I think that if I can figure out where I am I’ll be saved. But reality kicks in. It wouldn’t matter if I knew my GPS coordinates; if no one else does, there’s no hope.
The shallow cutting on my skin is slow and excruciating. I try to zone out, pull myself away from the moment through breathing or praying that I pass out. After what seems like hours, I feel him start to carve intricate designs on my stomach. My barely-there whimpers of “why” don’t stand a chance against the gag.
He never says another word until he’s finished. “You are now prepared. Thank you so much; you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He runs his hand through my hair, catching a lock and twisting it around his finger a few times. “Waiting to touch you, smell you.” His nose presses against my bloodied neck and snorts inward. “You make me feel things no one, no one, has ever been able to make me feel. You make me feel alive.”
Please just kill me, get it over with and kill me. I’m already dead. My head slumps down with my admission of surrender.
“We are going to have so much fun together.” He sticks his tongue in my ear. “Gotta go, time for shift change.”
Upon hearing a door close, the temperature changes in the room. I weep and cry out loud through my gag. I can hear a hoarseness in my voice. I have to get out of here or I’m going to die is the only thought running through my head. I try to slide my hands through the ropes, hoping the blood and sweat has made my skin slippery. I’m not going to give up. I work on the ropes for another hour before I finally succumb to the exhaustion.
Chapter 41
Miranda
Eli
“What do you mean there’s no video surveillance in the garage?” Harry’s voice bellows through the house. “Are you guys just a bunch of fucking morons?”
Time for me to take over for a few minutes and calm him down. McNab and I exchange a look. “I got it,” I say.
“Harry, take it easy. Let me.” I pry the phone out of his hands, and Carl leads him to the couch.
“This is Eli Walker. We’re going to need any surveillance videos you have for the last forty-eight-hour period.”
“Sir, that’s what I was trying to tell Commissioner Baynes. I’m not being difficult, I’m telling you there isn’t any. It doesn’t exist. We had a system failure and all surveillance data has been lost,” the man says.
“Okay. Well, thank you for your time.” I hang up and go to Harry, who’s on the couch with his head in his hands.
“We’re going to find her, Harry. We are.” I try to reassure him, looking at McNab, hoping for some backup.
McNab is deep in thought and snaps out of his trance. He looks at me and makes sure Harry isn’t looking and shakes his head. He ticks his head toward my office. We both go in.
“Eli, this is bad. Like, really bad.” He’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him.
“I know it is. We don’t even know if she’s still alive.” I wince when I say the words. Knowing they found a third set of footprints at the scene and her blood type don’t bode well for a happy resolution.
“She’s alive. But I don’t know for how much longer.”
“McNab!” Carl calls from the other room.
“What is it?” McNab reaches the living room when the doorbell rings.
Pitch is closest, so he opens the door. A tall slender woman in her early thirties wearing a pantsuit is standing there. She really is stunning in a this-woman-might-rip-your-balls-off sort of way.
“That.” Carl points at the woman.
McNab looks at her, trying to disguise his disdain. “Miranda.” He says it simply, like a fact.
“McNab.” She walks in the door.
“The bitch is back.” Pitch rolls his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” McNab refocuses his gaze on Harry.
“I’m looking for Harry Baynes,” she says as she removes her driving gloves.
“I figured.” McNab walks into the kitchen. I watch him with my brows furrowed, looking for an inkling of an answer.
Harry perks up when he hears his name spoken. “What?”
“Mr. Baynes? I’m Miranda Salvo, your new partner.” She extends her hand to Harry. He stands and greets her.
“Nice to meet you, Miranda. Call me Harry.” He’s barely there, not holding it together at all.
“Partner, or Shadow?” McNab asks as he comes back into the living room.
“Either way.” She looks at McNab “Don’t you have a poltergeist to chase? Or a girl to save?”
“We don’t have time for your bullshit, Miranda. If you’re not going to be helpful, you should just turn right back around.” Carl joins with McNab.
“We all have a job to do. I’m here for Harry.” She smiles sweetly at him.
I head for the kitchen and drag Carl and McNab with me. “I take it you know her?”
“You could say that,” Carl spits.
“We have a history.” McNab confirms my fear.
“Is this going to be a problem?”
“No, it isn’t. I can handle Miranda,” McNab reassures me, but Carl doesn’t look so sure.
Chapter 42
Shattered
Glass
It’s been a hell of a day; one of those rare ones where I’m looking forward to being home. Coming down the dirt drive, it feels like it’s been days since I’ve been back. Probably because it has been, at least two since I was here last. The stale air is one of the worst parts, when it smells lifeless.
I hang my keys on the rack and pull my shoes off to put them in the closet. I straighten the picture on the wall next to the door. In the kitchen, the refrigerator doesn’t hold a lot of promise, but it’s worth a shot. There are some leftover wings in there that are probably good. I toss them in the microwave and pour myself a gin and tonic. I try to find something decent on TV while I eat the wings, watching highlights on ESPN and trying not to think too much about anything. That’s enough winding down. I toss the last bone onto the plate and check the time.
Still my brain won’t turn off. It’s running a hundred miles an hour just trying to catch up with Shay Baynes. Tomorrow we’ll have the results from the blood evidence, and I’m betting we have enough to pick her up. There’s no doubt in my mind that she killed Aiden Roth, and while we can’t nail her for the other murders, we’ll get her for this one.
I bring my plate into the kitchen and rinse it and put it in the dishwasher, then wash my hands. A light in the back yard catches my eye. In the back corner of the yard, the lights are on in the tool shed. That’s strange.
After putting my shoes on and drawing my service weapon, I quietly go out the back door to the shed.
Listening outside for any sounds, I can hear some shuffling. When I burst in the door, gun at the ready, I’m pushed back by what I find. There are what appear to be human organs hanging from the ceiling, creating pools of blood on the floor.
“Your handiwork.” There’s a whisper in my ear. I look around to find the source of the voice when movement catches my eye.
In the back corner there’s someone on the floor on her knees. She’s beaten up and languishing in her own blood and urine. Her hair is straggly and her clothes are soaked in blood. She’s blindfolded and gagged. I’m paralyzed by the horror of what I’m seeing. I’ve seen a lot of shit, but this is… “You!” It rides out on a whisper of realization that the one thing I’ve been chasing for months is right here. “Shayleigh Baynes, as I live and breathe.” I’m not sure whether to untie her feet or retie her hands.
“You are the one with the power now. She’s exactly where you want her – vulnerable, weak, captured. Wrapped up special just for you, Glass, you just have to decide what you’re going to do.” The voice permeates my being. I’m not sure if I can hear it in my head or if it’s external.
She looks in the direction of my voice and makes muffled sounds through the gag. I take two steps backward. What do I do?
“Put your mark on her. Besides, you can admire your previous efforts.” The voice urges me closer to her.
The gun feels heavy in my hand, and I look down to find a box cutter in my other hand. Maybe go for her pretty face that makes her so untouchable.
“That’s the spirit, Glass. Get creative.” The voice cheers for me, making me feel powerful.
I take two tentative steps toward her; she’s still feeling around the floor like a blind animal trying to find its way. Her ankles are still bound to the chair by ropes. She’ll never defy me again.
“Yes, she did defy you, didn’t she?” the voice reminds me. “She’s made a fool of you at every turn.”
I lean back against the workbench, looking at the box cutter, then her. After thinking for a good long while, my next actions are clear. I know it like I know my name.
She’s struggling to get the blindfold off. She manages to get it off and sees me coming toward her. Something in her stare stops me in my tracks, maybe the recognition in her eyes. Frantically she starts working on the restraints on her ankles. Trying to untie the swollen rope is impossible with her hands so torn up from trying to escape. Terror is seeping from her eyes. She sees me. She sees what I’m doing. I have to stop her.
Her screaming, though muffled by the gag, gets louder the closer I get.
“Yes, yes detective.” The sound of the voice is overwhelming in my head and my vision is blurred. I can’t see her anymore, but I try to stumble forward to her. There is nothing but darkness, as though the lights have been put out. I can still hear her muffled screams, but they sound further and further away until I can see and feel nothing.
There’s a faint whisper before darkness completely overcomes me. “Glass.”
To Be Continued…
INK: Abstraction (Book 3)
Coming in the spring of 2014
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While you wait for INK: Abstraction, consider reading INK: Sketches. The events leading up to the start of the series.
A Note from Bella
Bringing the INK Series to life has been an amazing journey for me and I’m so glad you decided to come along with me. I hope you have enjoyed delving into the lives of Shay, Aiden and Eli as much as I have.
There is so much more in store for our favorite characters including a special announcement about McNab coming soon. To stay current with all of my news and get the skinny first please join my mailing list. I promise I’ll only send email when I have big news and you’ll be the first to know. Sign up here.
Also, please consider leaving an honest review for INK: Vanishing Point at your point of purchase and Goodreads. Reviews are often instrumental in helping other readers find stories they will enjoy. Reviews are also very important to indie authors; we really do listen and appreciate every review.
If you would like to keep up with me and my day to day madness I’m very active on Facebook & Twitter and would love for you to join the discussion!
Attending author/reader events is one of my favorite parts of being a writer. I’m in complete awe of my readers and getting to meet you face to face is incredibly exciting! To find out if I’ll be coming to a city near you please visit my event page. If there’s event near you that you would like me to attend please feel free to contact me via email ([email protected]) or Facebook.
Thank you again for taking the time to enter my madness! I hope you continue to enjoy reading the series as much as I’m enjoying writing it!
Book List
INK: Sketches (Book 0)
INK: Fine Lines (Book 1)
INK: Vanishing Point (Book 2)
INK: Abstraction (Book 3)
Coming spring of 2014
Acknowledgements
To my readers, you amaze me beyond belief! So many of you have taken a chance on this new series and have given me such wonderful feedback. Getting to know so many of you through social media has been one of the best parts of writing for me. So thank you so much for all of your amazing support!
Thanks my amazing street team captain and number 1 cheerleader! She’s kept me going through the dark times. To “The Bros” who inspired and continue to encourage me and make me feel like the coolest old lady ever. To one of my dearest friends Chris Marks who is a pillar of strength when all else feels lost. To Ellen, we-are-one-body, who continues to cheer me on. To Misha, who never leaves my side, who still tolerates me running over her tail more times than I can count, Alli who is just really freakin’ cool and has been so helpful. Thanks to Sarra Cannon who inspires and helps me along the way and all of the amazing authors I’ve met over the last year online and in person at events. You guys ROCK!
Special thanks to an incredible lady who I will forever consider the “Waterer of Dreams” Addison Moore who unknowingly sent me my “sign” when disaster stopped me in my tracks. This book and any other book I ever write were made possible by her. Addison’s encouragement and support is what kept me going when all hope was lost. “Thank You” feels so insignificant in comparison to what you’ve done for me. You are an angel!
About the Author
Bella Roccaforte grew up near Cape Cod, Massachusetts where her brother, sister and wonderful nieces and nephews live, but has lived all over the country. She currently calls Atlanta, GA home with her husband, five children and her stalwart dog Misha.
She loves to answer emails and interact with readers! Contact her anytime [email protected].
For more information please visit her website BellaWrites.com.
INK: Vanishing Point (Book 2) Page 25