by Evan Grace
Elizabeth gives me a smile and thumbs-up before I’m led to the back. Raven shows me to a little room to change out of my clothes, and I moan when I put the extremely soft robe on. I slip my feet into the little slippers they left for me. A soft knock sounds at the door, and Raven pops her head in. “Follow me.” We head down the hall and get started.
I’ve been buffed, polished, and massaged. I feel relaxed, but energized—it’s weird, but it feels good. At one point during my facial I fell asleep and was totally embarrassed, but she assured me that it happens a lot.
She has me sit in this little room that looks like a café after I get dressed. Windows along the side offer me a beautiful view. Lake Michigan can be seen in the distance, and the sun rays are dancing over the water.
I’m waiting for Elizabeth and then we’ll eat a little lunch before leaving. The scent of coffee beans hits me and I would kill for a cup right now.
A man with reddish-brown hair comes to my little table with a cup. “What’s this?” I ask.
He gives me a charming grin. “It’s herbal tea. It’s a special prenatal blend.”
I thank him and then take a sip of the warm beverage. Whatever is in the tea tastes like citrus, but it’s got a weird aftertaste. There isn’t a whole lot in the cup, and I’ve already finished it. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my duster and send a quick text to Reece.
Delilah: Hey you. I feel so good, and so relaxed. I’m ready for this baby to come anytime now.
I watch the black dots dance and rub my eyes. Are they going in and out of focus? Am I that tired?
Reece: That’s great babe. I’m taking all of your dad’s money.
Delilah: Yay!
I stick my phone back in my pocket, and when I look up, the room looks like it’s swaying. Wait, swaying? I close my eyes and take a deep breath, but when I open my eyes everything looks like it’s going out of focus.
My heart tries to race, but it’s like it’s slowing down. Something’s wrong, and I realize something was in my tea. Scanning the room, I find the man who brought it. “Wha you do?” My words are slurred. I’ve got to get to the front of the building. Grabbing the sides of the table, I try to hoist myself up, but it feels like my body is full of lead.
The man approaches me and I try to shrink away, but it’s like I can’t move. He lifts me with ease and I lie limp in his arms. “Your mom’s waiting for you,” is the last thing I hear as I fade into nothingness.
Chapter Nineteen
Reece
“Asshole, quit taking my money.” Marcus pushes away from table and throws his cards down. He looks at Jack. “I’m out. Don’t let Reece take all of your money.”
We all laugh, and he gets up to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. He sits on the sofa in front of the flat-screen while Jack deals the next hand.
Jack wanted us all to get together, especially since almost everyone is wrapped up with whatever case they’re working on. He hasn’t given up trying to find the guy who attacked Del, but he’s got an old buddy that I don’t know looking into things. All I know is it’s an old Army guy who operates outside of the law and doesn’t mind doing illegal shit to get things done.
After our next hand, my phone buzzes. Pulling it out of my pocket, I smile when I see it’s a text from my girl. My smile widens as I read her words. She’s been miserable the last couple of weeks while trying to hide it and be strong, but my girl is losing steam. I was thrilled when my mom said she was going to come up and take her for a spa day. I’m sure they’re having a good time.
My phone rings and I see it’s my mom. I get up from the table. “Hey Mo—”
“H-He t-t-took her,” she chokes out.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. “What? Who took her?” I feel the men who’ve become my brothers standing behind me.
“S-She was waiting for me. S-Some m-man took her. I chased after them, but I tripped, and twisted my ankle.” Her sobs come through the line. “I’m s-so sorry.”
“Mom, it’s okay. Did you call the police?” I don’t have to look to know that the guys are following me to the door.
“Someone at the spa did. Reece, tell me what to do to fix this. D-Don’t hate me.”
I stop moving. “Mom, I don’t hate you—I could never hate you. You could’ve hurt yourself running after them. I’m on my way to the spa now. We’re going to find her, okay? We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Jack steps in front of me. “Dalton just called—he was on their tail, but didn’t want to spook him with Del in the car. They’re on I-90 right now. We’re going to find her.”
I lose it. “How the fuck can you be calm? That’s your fucking daughter! He’s got my life in that car.”
He grabs me by the front of the shirt, catching me off guard. My back slams into the wall, and then Erik is behind Jack trying to pull him off. Jack leans in close. “I’ll let that fucking slide because you love my daughter, but you know as well as I do that we can’t find her if we lose our shit.” He slams me into the wall again. “Don’t you dare act like I don’t fucking care, because that girl is everything to me.”
Our eyes stay locked, but Jack’s phone rings, bringing us out of our stare down. He brings his phone to his ear. “Mackenzie.” A pause, and I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “Anyone hurt? Okay. I’m grabbing my laptop now. I have a tracker on her phone.” Another pause. “I’ll call you back.
Egan’s already on his laptop. “Jack, I’ve got the app up and they’re still heading west on I-90. You guys go; I’m going to see if I can hack into the spa’s security footage to get a clear picture of him. I’ll run his face through my software, and maybe if I can get a lock on who he is, it’ll be easier to find out where he might take her.” Egan looks at Jack, and then me. “We’re going to get her back.”
By the time we reach the spa cops are there, and my mom is sitting in the back of the ambulance getting her ankle wrapped. While Jack talks to the police, I make my way toward her. She throws herself in my arms. “She was in his arms, and she wasn’t moving. Dalton saw me run after them. He stopped to make sure I was okay before he took off after them. She’s getting so close to the end.”
That’s all I can think about. What if she goes into labor and the guy doesn’t help her? She could die, our son could die—but no, that’s not going to fucking happen.
We head north on I-90. Silence fills the inside of Erik’s Explorer. I stare unseeing out the passenger window.
Jack’s phone rings and he answers it, putting it on speakerphone. “What do you have for us, Egan?”
“I’m picking her phone up just outside of Crystal Lake. It’s possible they dumped it, but it’ll hopefully give us a good area to start searching. I’ve got his photos running through my system, and hopefully I’ll get a match.”
Egan texts us the coordinates for Delilah’s phone’s signal, and sure enough it’s in the dumpster next to a Shell station outside of Crystal Lake. We pull over outside of the RV park and hop out as Dalton pulls up with Marcus behind him.
Dalton looks beat down. “Bloody hell that accident he caused was brutal.” His British accent is a lot thicker right now. “Fuck me, I tried to get past it, but I fucking lost them.”
“You’re no use to us dead. You did what you could,” I tell him and pat him on the back twice before we all gather around the hood of his car with Jack’s tablet. He pulls up maps and starts going over search areas.
We’re splitting up into three groups. Our plan is to check out as many places as we can before dark. Hopefully Egan will get a match soon, and then we may have a better chance at finding them.
Erik, Jack, and I are together, and we head toward the lake, looking for any signs that he took her into the woods. The bad part is that there are a lot of woods to check. It’ll also be getting dark soon, and it’ll be harder to track them.
“Remember he’s driving a newer model blue Toyota Camry,” Jack announces, and a thought hits me.
My stomach rolls as I remember finding a blue car in our driveway the day her mom showed up. “Jack?” He looks at me. “Becky showed up in a blue Camry, but I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
He shakes his head. “Becky is a lot of things, but she wouldn’t hurt her daughter.” Jack looks like he doesn’t believe his own words. “She wouldn’t.”
I step toward him. “Think about it, Jack. That woman has been on her to get rid of our baby. The blows Del took to her stomach could’ve caused her to have a miscarriage. Everything that’s happened has been centered on the baby.”
Jack narrows his eyes and pulls out his phone again. After dialing a number, he puts it on speakerphone.
Becky’s nonchalant voice fills the air. “Well hello, Jack,” she purrs. “What can I do for you?”
“What have you done with my daughter?” he barks.
We can hear her clapping sarcastically. “I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out. Color me impressed.”
Blood rushes in my ears, and Jack’s jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised we can’t hear his teeth crack.
“I suppose you have Reece there with you. Reece, we could’ve had fun,” she says in a singsong voice.
“Bitch, I’d rather stick my dick through a barbwire fence,” I spit. Jack gives me warning look. I turn away, trying to get myself under control. Her laugh through the phone sounds maniacal. A queasy feeling sits in my gut. “Where’s Delilah?”
“Don’t worry about her. By the time you boys find us, she’ll already have spit that kid out, and he’ll be gone.”
“What the fuck do you mean? If you hurt my son or Delilah, I’ll make you pay for the rest of your fucking life,” I growl.
Erik steps in front of me with his hands on my shoulders and mouths, “Get it together. He’s sent a signal to Egan to trace the call. We need to keep her on the line.” I nod…reluctantly.
“Becky, please don’t hurt our daughter. Don’t hurt my grandson. You don’t have to be involved if—Becky? Fuck, she hung up.” Jack pushes some buttons and holds the phone up to his ear. “Did you get it?” He listens and then grunts into the phone. “Okay, we’ll work with what we’ve got.” Again, he stops to listen. “No, it’s okay. This at least helps enough.” He hangs up, looking at the two of us. “Let’s go hunting.”
Chapter Twenty
Delilah
When I open my eyes I groan, but it sounds muffled. I go to wipe my mouth, but that’s when I realize I can’t move my hand. My heart begins to gallop in my chest. I look around and see that I’m on a bed with my hands tied down and off to the side.
There’s what appears to be an IV coming out of my hand. Looking down at myself, I see I’m in a nightgown. Straps are around my thighs, keeping my legs spread, and straps around my ankles keep my legs in place. My nose burns due to the dusty-smelling air.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It can’t be good for me or the baby if my pulse is racing. I try to move my legs, but they only move a little. I’m leaned against a mountain of pillows, thankful I’m not lying flat. My eyes go to the IV in my hand, and I follow the clear tube that runs up to a clear bag.
I see the word “Pitocin” on it just as my stomach starts to cramp hard. Moaning around my gag, it hits me what that is for. At the birthing class, they said that Pitocin was what they use for inducing labor. “No…” I moan around the gag.
I try to pull my arms loose, and then try to flip my hand over so I can work the needle out of my hand, but it’s no use—I can’t. Tears threaten to spill over when I hear gravel crunching outside, and I try one more time to get loose, but I can’t.
The door opens and the man from the spa walks in, followed by…I begin to cry when I realize it’s my mom.
She comes toward me, stopping on the side of my bed. “Hi honey. Are you comfortable?” I shake my head. “What do you need?” I turn away from her and find the missing picture of Reece and me, facing me from the little end table.
I tell her to let me go, but it comes out garbled. She sits down next to my hip and smiles at me, like I’m not tied to a bed. “I can’t do that, but don’t worry—I’m going to take good care of you. This is for the best, okay? The baby is going to a good home, and then you can go back to your life.” She reaches out and plays with the end of my braid. “I know Reece made promises to you, but he’ll break them just like your dad did.”
My stomach tightens and I moan, trying to curl in on myself. “Mom, please stop this,” I say around my gag as tears leak from my eyes.
The guy that came in with her comes over to the IV and fiddles with the machine. “Delilah, your contractions might start getting a little stronger.” He looks at my mom. “We’ll check her in a little bit and see if she’s dilating.”
My mom looks at me. “He’s a medic. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing.”
I turn my face away from her. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? I never wanted to see her again, and now she’s trying to take my baby. She gets up, and the guy follows her out of the room. I wiggle around, trying to get loose, but they’ve got me strapped in tight.
I’ve got to have faith that Reece and my dad will find me. In the other room, I hear moaning before the sound of flesh slapping. My stomach turns violently as my mother’s moans drift through the very thin walls. She did that when I was younger too. Her men would come over and fuck her while I sat and watched TV, but hearing them the whole time.
My stomach tightens, and it’s more painful this time. I moan, my body twisting on the bed. I take some deep breaths, trying to focus on anything other than the pain. When the pain fades, I relax into the pillows and start to cry.
The sound of my mother having an orgasm bounces off the walls, followed by the grunts of the man fucking her.
I’m unsure how much time passes before my mom comes waltzing back in acting like everything’s cool. The guy follows her in and he grabs some gloves and a tube of something.
He stops at the end of the bed. “I need to check you and see if you’ve dilated more.”
Check me, like he’s going to put his fingers in me? I fight against my bindings, screaming “no” at him.
“If you don’t want to lose that baby, you’ll let me make sure everything’s moving like it should.”
He sits down on the end of the bed, and I cry as I feel him put his fingers inside of me. It’s not sexual or anything, but still this feels so wrong, and I just want to go home. After what feels like a long time, he pulls his fingers out and slips his gloves off before looking at my mom. “She’s dilated to about five and a half. My guess is she’s been in labor and hasn’t really noticed it, or she’s going to go really fast. We should be ready for that.”
My mom sits down next to my stomach. “We’re getting twenty-five grand for your baby. Isn’t that great?”
Just when I think I can’t hate her more, she does something that makes me loathe her so much I want to vomit. I turn my head away from her; I can’t even look at her right now. I begin contracting again and try to curl in on myself. My mom places a cool washcloth on my forehead. As the pain fades, I pant around the gag.
That was closer to the last one. This can’t happen here. I refuse to let them take my baby. I may look like my mom, but I’m my father’s daughter. I need to get my mom to believe that I’m agreeable to their plan. Maybe then she’ll untie me. I’m hit with the desire to pee. “Mom,” I say around the gag. “Mom.”
“Don’t scream, okay?” she tells me, and I nod.
Once the gag is taken out of my mouth, I open and close my mouth, stretching my jaw. “I have to pee.” I don’t even care that her boyfriend or whatever is sitting right there.
“I’m not untying you. I’ve got a bed pan, and we could use that.”
I shake my head. “I can’t sit on a bed pan. Please just let me get up. Won’t it be better to have me get up and walk around?”
“Fine, but I’m going with you.” My mom and the medi
c undo my straps, and then they help me stand up. It takes a minute for the stiffness to loosen in my body. On the way to the bathroom, I begin contracting again. I hold onto the wall with one hand and cradle my belly with the other. I cry out, this one more painful. My mom turns to look at her friend. “They’re getting closer together. Should you increase the Pitocin?”
“Next time I check her I’ll see where we’re at. Her contractions seem to be getting stronger.” My mom follows me into the bathroom with the pole that has my IV attached to it. She doesn’t even turn away when I lift my nightgown and sit down. After, I finish up and wash my hands the best I can with the IV in.
I look in the mirror and see that my mom isn’t watching me. Looking around the bathroom, I try to find anything that looks like it could be a weapon, but my stomach sinks when I don’t see anything. Another contraction hits me, having me grab onto the cold porcelain sink. My mom doesn’t even try to comfort me through it—she just stands there watching me, looking bored.
When it ends, she does help me back to the bed. “Can I have a drink? Maybe some water?”
My mom nods and grabs me a glass of water. I drink down the cool beverage and sigh. I was so parched because I guzzle it down, not caring that it’s running down my chin.
I set the glass on the table next to my bed. “Thank you.” I try to keep my voice nice and calm, even though on the inside I’m trying to plan my escape. When I lie on the bed, my mom grabs the straps and then my arm. “Please don’t tie me back up. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” I don’t want to plead, but for my son I will. “Please?”
“Becky, just let her be for now. She’s not going anywhere for a while.”
I look up at the man, and as I look closer at him, I realize he’s the one who jumped me in front of my apartment. My stomach pitches, and I swallow the bile that climbs up my throat. My mom was behind that—she let that man hit me right in the stomach. My son could’ve died because of her. “It was you,” I grind out.