She glanced between him and it before handing it to him. “Yes.”
He used his pocketknife to open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. It was the same as the other one, with cutout words.
Morgan,
You didn’t do as you were told. Nobody cares about that secret.
Now Atlas will pay for your selfishness.
Sleep well, loser.
“What does it say?” Lila moved closer, craning her neck to see.
Morgan handed it to her, his heart sinking.
She read it, then looked at him, her eyebrows coming together. “They seem to think you’re hiding something. Are you?”
He shook his head. “No! Nothing.”
“Then what’s this about?”
“I don’t know! To mess with me?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”
“There isn’t!”
“How can I believe you after you kept such a big secret from me for our entire life together?”
Morgan slunk into a chair. “I guess you can’t.”
“I want to.”
“If there was something else, I’d tell you! I’d tell the world, Lila. Whatever it would take to get Atlas back. Anything!”
She frowned, clearly not believing him.
34
Atlas James
* * *
Atlas’s eyes closed again. He snapped his head up and shook it. Maybe his abductor wasn’t going to show up to make him pay for destroying the camera. Or return with food. Maybe he was being watched, and the person knew Atlas hadn’t fallen asleep. It was still the only thing that made sense.
He stood up and looked around, still unsure where the hidden camera was. “I’m not sleeping tonight! Come and get me, you cowards!”
Atlas waited, not sure what to expect, yet expecting something.
Nothing.
Just the same silence he’d been dealing with for days. How many days? That was a good question, given his odd sleeping schedule and having no access to daylight. He’d eaten five or six meals at random intervals.
“Are you scared of me?” He shook his fist. “Is that it? Come and face me!”
Silence.
Stupid jerks. Atlas paced and muttered, anger building. He would stay awake as long as he needed to until the door opened. Then he would attack and make his escape. Didn’t matter how long he had to wait or what he had to do to stay awake.
He did several rounds of exercises until he’d worked up a sweat and felt invigorated but not tired or weak. No, he was ready for them.
Whenever they decided to show up.
Atlas continued pacing, but eventually his eyes grew heavy again, even while moving.
That gave him an idea.
He sat next to the door and waited. Then he closed his eyes, but fought to stay awake. If his captors thought he was sleeping, they’d be more likely to come. They were, after all, cowards. Too chicken to show their faces while he was awake.
They would show up if they thought he wasn’t able to fight. To face them. To put them in their place. And to get the final laugh.
Now it was just a matter of staying awake while pretending to be asleep. It would be trickier than it sounded with his body fighting so hard to fall asleep. The temptation of sleep wrapped around him like a warm blanket in his bed. His eyelids were growing heavier despite his walking around.
He made a big production of yawning and stretching, then leaned against the wall next to the door and closed his eyes. Sure, sitting there might give them an idea of his plan, but they wouldn’t plan on him staying awake. Not when every other time they’d come he had been asleep.
Not this time.
Sleepiness pressed on him from all sides, making his mind feel like a cloud. But he fought it. Kept thinking, imagining the captors’ surprise when he jumped up and attacked. Maybe after they’d stepped inside or maybe as they were walking in. Or even as they were setting up his food.
There were so many options, and Atlas didn’t care which one came to fruition. He just wanted out of the shed before he fell asleep again. To find a way back home before he had to eat another sandwich and sleep on the floor.
He struggled against his body, and trying to hide it was the biggest challenge.
Time seemed to move slower than ever before. His back ached. Pressure built around his neck. The fog of exhaustion grew heavier. Time practically stopped altogether.
Atlas was nearly ready to give in, but he focused on paying back the jerks who had done this to him and to Emmett.
Click.
His eyes flew open. Had he heard that right? Had the lock just clicked?
Were his captors just on the other side of the door?
Click.
Atlas’s heart raced. Exhaustion fled. He was ready to face them.
It was just a matter of figuring out when to make his move.
Creak!
The door slid open, sticking as it slowly pressed open.
Atlas held his breath. He waited.
Did they really have a camera on him? Did they know what he’d done to the camera they’d given him?
He cracked open an eye to get a look at the people he’d spent so much time imagining. The little bit of light coming through the door was an assault on his eyes after so long in the dark. He blinked quickly, trying to adjust to the light but it didn’t do much good. His eyes wouldn’t stay open. They fought the light.
The door slammed shut.
His eyes flew open, and he could finally see the two people. Both wore long, thick jackets and dark ski masks, making it impossible to tell if they were men or women. One was a few inches taller than the other, but that was the only thing he could tell about them.
Then the shorter one spoke in what sounded like a mixture of an Irish and French accent. “Where did he go?”
The other responded with an unusual Hispanic accent. “Couldn’t have gone far.”
“He’s getting to be too much trouble.” Now the French-Irish accent sounded Indian.
“Then let’s kill him.” The Hispanic accent also changed. It sounded like nothing Atlas had ever heard before. Almost made up.
It all made sense. They were trying to disguise their voices.
“I told you.” The shorter one, now used a Southern accent. “No permanent damage.”
“And I told you, it might come down to that. Kill him!”
Anger surged through Atlas. He jumped up and threw himself against the taller one, who slammed into the shorter.
Both captors started yelling, and the accents changed with every other word. A fist swiped against Atlas’s cheek and another into his stomach. It only took a moment for him to recover, and he threw a few punches, hitting both the captors.
Another fist came toward him, but Atlas ducked out of the way. He had the advantage of being used to the darkness. He avoided another one, then hit the taller one directly in the eye, then the nose. Blood sprayed out on Atlas’s hand.
Both of the others yelled at each other, the accents continuing to change at a ridiculous rate.
Atlas lunged for the shorter one, knocking them both to the ground.
Then the taller one pulled him to the ground and held Atlas’s hands behind his back. “Grab the rope!”
Rope? Atlas squirmed and fought to get out of the tight hold, but couldn’t get free. Not with the pain shooting from his shoulders. He kicked his legs, managing to get the captor in the back.
“Hold still, you loser!” He spoke with no accent.
Atlas recognized a voice he could never forget. But before he could react, something struck the side of his head. His ears rang over the two others talking to each other. More pressure on his arms and shoulders. Rope around his wrists. Someone shoved him into a wall. Duct tape ripped then was forced over his mouth.
They spoke about setting up a new camera while Atlas struggled to get free. The door wasn’t that far away, but now with his arms tie
d, it may as well have been miles away.
But he had to fight to get away now more than ever. He knew who the taller captor was. Once free, he could tell the police. Get the jerk thrown into jail.
If getting away was a possibility.
It had to be. There were no other options.
Trevor would pay for all of this. Atlas would make sure of that.
He needed to free himself first.
The two kept arguing, but the shorter one never dropped the accents and kept making his or her voice deeper and higher, making it impossible to identify the voice. Trevor slipped in and out of accents, ranging from Italian to Pacific Islander.
Atlas stopped struggling and focused on the rope around his wrists. The loose ends hung down, making it easy to grab. He pulled and tugged with his fingers, slipping the grip every so often.
Meanwhile, Trevor and his partner set up the new camera and shone an obnoxious bright light on Atlas, practically blinding him. He looked down and tried to let his eyes adjust while he continued working on the rope.
Then it happened.
His heart skipped a beat. Maybe three.
Atlas pulled on one end of the rope, and the knot fell loose. The rope fell from his wrists. He grabbed onto it before it fell to the ground, unnoticed by Trevor or his assistant.
He was free. From the tie, at least. He still needed to make it to the door and get away.
But now it was a possibility. It could actually happen.
His pulse raced through his body. Atlas watched the other two, waiting for the opportune moment to run.
The shorter assailant tripped over something and swore.
“Shut up!” Trevor snapped.
Atlas dropped the rope and ran.
It was harder to see after having had the light in his face. He slammed into something.
Both of the captors called out.
Atlas regained his footing. The door was just out of his reach. He grabbed for it.
Something struck his head. Hands gripped his arms. The floor raced toward him. Voices sounded around him. He crashed against the ground. The air knocked out of his lungs. Atlas struggled to breathe. Someone landed on top of him.
Everything happened in a blur. More rope. Arms yanked him to standing. One of them screamed at him. Spit in his eyes. Shoved him. Struck him in the temple. The cheek. Nose. Eye. Forehead.
Everything turned black.
35
Lila James
* * *
Knock, knock!
“Lila, let me in!” Morgan called from the other side of the door. “We need to talk!”
“I can’t deal with this right now. I need my space.” She picked up the bottle of wine on her nightstand and took a long sip, holding onto the taste before letting the comforting liquid make its way down her throat.
“It’s about Atlas!”
A mixture of emotions ran through her—everything from guilt to anger to heartbreak. She raced to the door but didn’t open it. “Why didn’t you tell your secret at the conference?”
“Lila, I’m not hiding anything.”
She frowned and leaned against the door.
“I’m telling you the truth. Why else would I have come clean about the baby? Just to hide something else? What could I be hiding? Honestly, I’m not that interesting. You know me.”
Heartache squeezed, seeming to take over her entire body. She trudged over to her wine and took another exaggerated drink.
Morgan knocked on the door again and said something Lila couldn’t understand. She plopped on the bed, sipping more, determined to drink enough that her pain would disappear for a little while.
He didn’t say anything more. Not that she could hear, anyway.
Something sounded over by the door.
Click, click.
Lila put the bottle back on the nightstand and looked over at the door. She didn’t even have the energy to rise. To speak. If only she could disappear.
He frowned, a heavy sadness in his eyes. “Why do you believe a demented kidnapper over me?”
She rubbed her temples. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”
Morgan nodded. “What would you prefer talking about?”
Lila drew in a deep breath, her mind buzzing. “Nothing. I just want to go back in time and make sure Atlas never sneaks out.”
“I’d love nothing more than that myself.”
Lila frowned. “I know we can’t go back in time anymore than I can disappear. What are we going to do about the threats? Can you make something up?”
“He seems to want me to say something specific.”
“Mom! Dad!” Scarlet burst into the room, her eyes wild and her face pale.
Lila’s heart sank. “What, Scarlet?”
“There’s a new video!”
Everything blurred. Lila rubbed her eyes. “Of Atlas?”
“Yeah!”
Morgan put his arm around Lila. “Show us.”
“It’s bad. I don’t know if you should watch.”
Lila gasped. “How bad?”
“They beat him up.”
Lila leaned against Morgan, unable to breathe. “How bad is it?”
Morgan pulled out his phone. “I’ll watch it and tell you.”
“I need to see it.”
They made their way to the bed and sat, then Scarlet played the video. Two people in masks hit Atlas over and over, and he couldn’t fight back because his arms were tied behind his back.
Lila covered her eyes and buried her face against Morgan’s chest, unable to watch anymore, though she could still hear the strikes and gasps from the screen.
Morgan gasped.
“What?” Lila sat up and instantly regretted looking at the screen.
Her son lay motionless on the floor. “Is he dead?”
“He’s not moving.” Scarlet’s voice cracked.
“He’s breathing,” Morgan said. “I can see his chest moving.”
The video ended.
Lila cried out, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.
“There’s something off about that video,” Morgan said.
“Our son being beaten to a pulp?” Lila exclaimed.
“No, not that.” Morgan took Scarlet’s phone from her. “I need to watch it again.”
“I’m going to throw up.” Lila raced for the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet in time to lose her wine. She brushed her teeth and returned to the bedroom.
Scarlet was gone and Morgan was watching the video.
“How can you stand to watch that?” Lila stayed far away.
“Something doesn’t sit right with me about it.”
“Other than the fact that our son is being beaten by lunatics?”
“Exactly, and I’m this close to figuring it out.” He held out his finger and thumb about a hair’s width apart.
“I still don’t know how you can keep watching that. It—”
“I’ve got it!” Morgan leaped up.
“What? Do you know who has him?”
“No, but I know that shed!”
Lila gave him a double-take. “Huh?”
“I recognize the shed where they’re holding him. I know that shed!”
“It’s a shed, aren’t they all basically the same?”
“No. But I helped to build this one, so I know it well.”
“You helped to build it?” Lila tried to remember Morgan building a shed, but nothing came to her. “When?”
“It was years ago. Out in the woods.”
Then Lila remembered. It had to have been at least ten years earlier. That was why she’d nearly forgotten about it.
“You think he has the boys?” Lila shook at the thought.
Morgan’s eyebrows drew together. “Either that, or someone who knows about the shed is responsible.”
Lila struggled to breathe. “But it’s practically in the middle of nowhere. Who else would know about it?”
“I don’t know, but it isn’t that f
ar from civilization. They tore down a lot of the trees and built all those apartments.”
Lila felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “The ones where Ms. Johnston lives.”
Morgan nodded.
“Is she working with him?”
“Nothing would surprise me at this point.”
Lila took a deep breath. “We need to call the police.”
36
Brielle Harrison
* * *
Trevor wrapped his arms around Brielle and stared into her eyes, pressing her against a tree. “You’ve never been more beautiful than tonight.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She arched a brow and tried to hide the torment inside.
He pulled some hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek before kissing it. “I mean you’re savage. It’s a real turn on.”
She frowned. “You know I don’t like hurting my best friends.”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “And that’s why you plotted out this whole thing?”
Tears threatened. Brielle blinked them back. “You know why I did that, and it wasn’t because of Atlas or Emmett. They’re collateral damage.” She stepped back and shoved Trevor. “You weren’t supposed to go so hard on Atlas!”
“There won’t be any permanent damage. I guarantee you that much.”
“I said to rough him up a little, not practically kill him!”
“He’s nowhere near dead.”
“You made him black out!”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “Women are so dramatic.”
She slapped him across the face.
He grabbed her arm. “And emotional. You’d better not forget who you’re dealing with. We’re in this together, but the evidence points directly to you. Your dad’s cabin and shed.”
She clenched her jaw. “Are you threatening me?”
Trevor let go of her arm and narrowed his eyes. “Only reminding you of where we stand. It’s your family’s place. We drove your car there. The tire tracks can prove that much.”
“So? There’s no crime in going to my own cabin.”
“While two missing people are tied up there?”
Lies Never Sleep Page 24