By the time we get home, it’s late — well after dark. I notice Em’s Jeep isn’t in the drive, so I pull out my phone and call her, but her phone goes right to voicemail.
“That’s weird,” I say, mostly to myself.
“What’s weird?” Mason asks, turning off the engine.
“Em isn’t answering her phone.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s probably out with Tony.”
We walk inside to find Preston on the couch, watching tv and eating pizza in his boxers.
“Hey, where’s your sister?” Mason asks him.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. She came home a bit ago, but she ran right back out.”
“Who was she with?” I ask.
“How am I supposed to know? I’ve been stuck here watching this marathon.”
I walk away, shaking my head. As I walk up the stairs, I pull out my phone to call her again, thinking that maybe her phone lost signal. Then I notice the light shining from beneath her bedroom door.
I open the door and look around the room, but it’s empty. I turn to flick off the light, but my eye catches something on the bed. I walk over and pick up the note. When I read the words, my heart drops to my stomach.
“Mason!” I call down to him.
I can’t believe she would do this. Emma has always been responsible. She had to have known we wouldn’t be okay with this — which is probably why she left the note instead of actually telling us.
“Yeah?” Mason asks, sticking his head in the door.
“Look at this.” I hand him the note and wait for his head to explode.
He quickly reads it, and then his eyes meet mine. I can see the anger burning behind them. “What the fuck?” He spins around and begins marching down the stairs.
I chase after him. “Where are you going?”
“To find our daughter.” He grabs the keys off the table and rushes outside with me following behind him.
“Mason, they left town. How do you think you can find her?”
“They’re two eighteen-year-old kids. How far could they go?” he asks, swinging open the door on his truck.
“She’s eighteen, Mason. You can’t drag her back home.”
He puts the keys in the ignition but doesn’t start the truck. “So, what do you want me to do? They’re probably doing God knows what right now.”
“If you do this — if you chase after her and drag her back home, she’ll hate you. She’ll rebel and run right back to him. We can’t stop this.”
He punches the steering wheel. “So, what? We just sit here waiting until she comes home on Sunday?”
I take a deep breath. I don’t like that option either. I just want to know she’s okay, not that I have any reason to believe otherwise. “Let’s go in and try calling her again. If she doesn’t answer, we’ll start calling local hotels or something. Like you said, they couldn’t have gone too far. Preston said she was just here a bit ago.”
“Fuck.” He gets out of the truck and slams the door. “Fine.”
We walk back into the house and sit at the island in the kitchen. While Mason calls her phone over and over, I pour us both a cup of coffee. I have a feeling we may need it.
It’s been two hours of constant calling, and she still hasn’t answered. I’m starting to worry. “Let’s call some hotels.” I grab my computer and sit it on the island, pulling up a list of hotels.
“Do you have Tony’s cell number?” Mason asks me.
“No, why would I have it?”
“Preston, do you have Tony’s cell number?”
He gets off the couch and hands Mason his phone. “It’s right there,” he says before walking back to the couch.
Mason tries calling it from Preston’s phone, but ends the call when the voicemail picks up.
I start calling hotels from my phone, but one by one, I’m told nobody under either name is registered at the hotel.
Out of desperation, I run up and grab Em’s computer and open up the social media account that everyone uses. I click on Tony’s profile and snoop around. When I come to the family section, my blood runs cold.
Chapter Nineteen
Emma
“How about some dinner?” Tony asks, picking up the phone to order room service.
“A big cheeseburger sounds amazing right now.” I stand and grab my clothes.
He looks over his shoulder at me and grabs me by the wrist, pulling me back to the bed. “What do you think you’re doing?” With the phone between his ear and shoulder, he moves on top of me. “We aren’t done yet,” he teases.
“Yes, I’d like to order two cheeseburgers with fries, please.” He pauses on top of me while he orders. “Yes, charge it to Tony Meyer’s room please.” He waits another second. “Thank you,” he says, hanging up the phone before going back to kissing my neck.
“Meyer? Your last name is Wollard.”
He pulls back with a grin. “I used my dad’s last name. I didn’t want anyone tracking us down.” His lips are back on mine, kissing me hard.
I push against his chest. “Can we take a break? I’m hungry and a little sore.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He gets himself up to his knees. “I just can’t keep my hands off of you.” His hands run up my legs while looking over my naked body. The hunger in his eyes lights my body on fire again, despite how tired and hungry I am.
I pull him back to me, kissing him deeply. He settles between my legs again, grinding himself against my core. A flood of wanting washes over me, and I want that feeling of him inside of me again. “Tony, fuck me,” I nearly beg.
He pulls back. “Are you asking or begging, blue eyes?” He’s wearing a cocky grin.
A knocking on the door tears his eyes away from mine, and he gets up, pulling on his boxers, to answer it. I wrap myself up in a sheet and head to the bathroom to pull on some clothes. When I come out, he’s placed our food on the bed. The tv is on, and he’s digging in.
I take my place beside him and start eating. Something is bugging me though. That name he used, I’ve heard it somewhere before.
“You don’t talk a lot about him, you know.”
“About who?”
“Your dad. Why don’t you tell me about him?”
He shrugs. “I never met him. All I know is what my mom told me.”
“What happened to him? Did he leave you?” I take a bit bite of my burger and wash it down with a swig of soda.
He shakes his head. “He died.” Sadness resonates in his voice.
“I’m so sorry, Tony.” I stop eating and turn my body to face him.
“He was killed, actually.” He turns to meet my eyes, but they’re not the eyes I usually look into. These eyes are darker, almost black as they cut into me.
“He was murdered?” I ask, suddenly feeling scared even though I don’t know why. My body is begging me to get up, to create some space between us, and it confuses me. I ignore it. This is Tony, and he needs me.
He nods. “Before my mom even knew she was pregnant.”
I want to reach out and touch him, comfort him in some way, but I can’t move, and I don’t know why. My eyes begin to blur, and I rub them. “I’m not feeling so good.”
“My father was shot and killed in cold blood.” He stands and starts walking around the bed. “And do you know who killed him?”
I shake my head as I try to stand, but I’m dizzy. I stumble and fall to my knees. With trembling fingers, I grab ahold of the blanket, trying to pull myself up, but the blanket pulls free from the bed, dumping our food onto the floor. “I… I don’t know.”
“Your whore of a mother,” he says, rushing toward me.
I try my hardest to stand, to get away, but something hits me over the head and everything goes black.
“Emma,” someone whispers. I attempt to open my eyes, but I can’t. “Wake up, Emma.”
I fight with myself, forcing my eyes open to see Tony hovering above me.
“There you are, bl
ue eyes.” He smiles down on me.
I’m confused. “What… what happened?” I ask. I try to rub my sleepy eyes, but my hands won’t move. They’re tied to the headboard above my head.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a panic, pulling against my restraints. The rope burns as it digs into my skin.
Tony crawls up the bed, between my legs as he looks down on me. “Now, where were we?” He thinks it over. “Oh, yeah, that whore mom of yours killing my father.”
I shake my head. “My mom didn’t kill anyone. You’re confused.”
“Oh, no, blue eyes. You’re the one that’s confused. Didn’t your mommy ever tell you about how she found out she was pregnant with you?”
“What are you talking about, Tony?” My vision is still distorted, the hit I took only adding to my pain.
He takes a deep breath, annoyance written all over his face as he stands and starts pacing in front of me. “My father was Christopher Anthony Meyer.” He stops his pacing and turns to look directly at me. “Sound familiar?”
I think it over, but it doesn’t. I’ve never heard that name before. Only the last name sounds familiar, but it’s a common name. I could’ve heard it anywhere.
“It probably doesn’t. Not unless you watch a lot of action movies from before you were born.” His voice is filled with hatred. “My dad used to be the best actor Hollywood ever saw. And then, your mom came around.” He starts walking closer to me. “They met and fell in love. They were about to be married when your mom took off and left my dad for yours.”
He climbs on the bed again, but this time, he sits on me, straddling my hips. “When my dad tried talking to her, trying to get her back, your dad went crazy. He knew he didn’t have anything on my dad. I mean, who in their right mind chooses a loser that runs a fucking boat shop over a Hollywood actor at the top of his career?”
I shake my head, now understanding. I never knew the specifics, only that my mom had been in an abusive relationship, and my dad had to save her. “That’s not right,” I say. “Your dad was an abusive alcoholic who kidnapped my mom and tried killing her.”
I’m silenced when he smacks me hard across the face. “Shut up! You don’t know anything! Your mom is a whore that fucked my dad and then killed him!” He smacks me again, causing tears to form in my eyes.
“Please, stop. I’m sorry. Let me go,” I plead.
“Let you go?” He laughs. “Let you go? I’m not letting you go, blue eyes. I won’t stop until I take everything away from your dad like he did to mine.”
Sobs make their way up my throat, and I scream and thrash against him, trying to knock him off me.
His hand comes down over my mouth. “Don’t make me hurt you, Emma. It’s not time yet.”
With his words, I freeze. Time for what? What’s he waiting for?
He reads the questions in my eyes, and a wicked smile forms. “That’s right. We’re waiting. I want to see the look on your dad’s face when he realizes who I am, when he realizes who’s been fucking with his little girl all summer long. And I want to see the look in his eyes when I slit your throat right in front of him.”
Tears begin pouring out of my eyes at an alarming rate. I can’t believe this is happening. I thought he loved me. I loved him. And all of this was just some sick game to get revenge?
“I loved you,” I cry out.
“I know, blue eyes.” He cups my cheek before his eyes run down my body. “But we did have some fun together, didn’t we?” His hand slowly starts making its decent. It trails over my neck and collarbone, landing on my breast with a firm squeeze.
The thought of sleeping with him makes me gag. “You disgust me.” I spit in his face.
He wipes his face clean. “You weren’t saying that when you were begging for me to fuck you.” He smiles.
I turn my head away from him, but he turns it back. “What do you say? One last time.” He grabs the collar of my shit and rips it down the front. “Come on, blue eyes. Beg me.” He lowers his lips to the swell of my breast. “Beg me to fuck you one more time.”
“No!” I scream and thrash against him again, but he grabs ahold of my throat, squeezing it so tight I can’t breathe.
I can’t call for help. I can’t beg him to stop. I can’t do anything but look into the dark eyes of the man I thought I loved.
Everything goes black as my lungs scream for oxygen.
Chapter Twenty
Mason
“Mason,” Lennox says, drawing my attention away from Preston’s phone.
I look up at her, and her skin is pale. “What’s wrong?”
“You should see this.” She turns the computer around, so I can see the screen.
“What is this?” I ask, confused.
“It’s Tony’s profile. Look at the family section down here.” She points at a picture. It’s a picture of a blonde woman around our age. Her name is Jessica Wollard. “So? What about it?”
She takes a deep breath and turns it back facing her. Within a second, she’s turning it right back to me. “Does this person look familiar?”
She’s clicked on the tiny picture, taking it to Tony’s mom’s profile. The picture is now enlarged so I can see it clearly. She does look familiar. Jessica?
“Mason, it’s Jessica. The woman that we hired years ago for the shop. The one that helped Chris to get to me.”
“Jessica,” I say, realization washing over me. “You don’t think that Tony is Chris’ son, do you?”
She shrugs. “Now that I think about it, they do look a lot alike. I mean, blond hair, dark eyes, about the same height and weight. It’s possible Jessica was pregnant the same time I was and didn’t even know it. I mean, I didn’t know it until I was in the hospital.”
“We have to find Emma.” I push away from the island, grabbing my keys and phone.
“How? We’ve been calling hotels and can’t find them.”
“I’ll drive to the city while you call them all again. But this time, ask for Tony Meyer, or even Anthony Meyer.”
I rush out the door with Lennox following behind me.
“Preston, lock this door and don’t let anyone in while we’re gone. Don’t leave. You hear me?” she says behind me.
“Okay. What’s going on?” he asks, following us.
“Do what you’re told, Preston,” I say, climbing behind the wheel of my truck. Lennox jumps in the passenger side.
I start driving toward town while she makes phone call after phone call next to me. Suddenly, she looks at me. “Found them.”
My foot presses the accelerator even harder.
I park the truck and jump out, running toward the doors. There’s nobody behind the counter. “Hello?” I yell while tapping the bell over and over again.
A young guy comes walking out of the back. “Yes, can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, you can tell me what room Tony Meyer is in.”
His eyes go wide. “I can’t give you that information, sir.”
I reach across the desk and grab ahold of his green tie, pulling him toward me. “My daughter is in that room. You can tell me, or I’ll beat down every fucking door in this place.”
His breathing picks up, and he nods quickly. “Okay, okay.”
I release him, and he quickly taps something in on the computer. “Room 206, sir.”
“Give me the key.”
He nods while quickly digging around for the key card. He slides it across the desk, and I pick it up. I spin around to see Lennox standing in the doorway behind me. I didn’t even realize she was there. I walk up to her. “Go back to the truck.”
“No, Mason. She’s my daughter too.”
I place my hand on the back of her neck and pull her forehead against mine. “We don’t know what we could be walking in on. I don’t want you in any danger. Go to the truck.”
Without waiting for her to argue, I turn and rush toward the elevator to the second floor. I practically run down the hallway until I find the right door. I step up to it
quietly and place my ear against it. I hear nothing.
I put the card in the slot and wait for the light to turn to green. Pulling it out, I slowly and quietly open the door.
The room is dark, and it takes my eyes a minute to adjust. When they do, I see Em tied to a chair on the far side of the room. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen with black makeup running down her cheeks. Her hair is a mess, and tape covers her mouth. Even though I beg myself not to, I look further down her body to find her shirt has been torn down the front. It’s only held together by the rope holding her to the chair. Her legs are bare and bruised.
Pain consumes me at the sight of my little girl. “Em,” I breathe out, as I take a step toward her even though she’s shaking her head the best she can.
I stop when movement catches my eye from the open doorway in the corner behind her. Tony walks out wearing an evil smile.
“I’m glad you finally decided to join us.” He walks behind Em, placing his hands on her shoulders, making her sob.
“Get your fucking hands off her.” I take another step closer, but he pulls out a knife and places it against her throat.
I freeze in fear.
“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
He lets out a small laugh. “What do I want? What do I want?” he screams. “I want my childhood back. I want to know my father who I never got to meet. And I want to watch as you pay for what you did to me, to my family.”
“That’s what this is about? A piece of shit alcoholic that would’ve beat you and abandoned you anyway. If you ask me, I did you a favor.” I know my words will anger him, but that’s what I want. I want him to lose his temper, so he won’t think straight. I want his anger on me, not on my baby girl.
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