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Vote Then Read: Volume III

Page 327

by Aleatha Romig


  A knot has permanently lodged in my throat when I sit on the edge of the bed. He’s not her son, but she loves him. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. “Naomi, do you know who took him? Did you see them?”

  The two agents who were waiting in the hall step inside at the sound of her voice, but they don’t speak, listening to her answer instead.

  “Oh god. Someone took him?”

  She scrambles to get out of bed, and I grab her waist. “No, stay put. Tell me what you know. Cause I’m going out of my fucking mind here.” My voice cracks and her eyes fill with tears.

  “I didn’t see anyone. Jake went to answer the door. I heard gunshots, then a guy started choking me.”

  “Can you give us a description?” One of the agents steps forward.

  Despair fills her face as she shakes her head. “He was behind me. I never saw anything but his arm. He was white. And he smelled bad.”

  Taking notes, the agent asks her to recount everything that happened. “I was making dinner and Caden was down for his nap in his room. Someone knocked on the door and Jake said there were some neighborhood kids selling candy. I gave him some money and went back to chopping vegetables.” A sob rattles her but she keeps talking, spitting the words out faster. “I heard gunshots, then an arm was around my neck. I stabbed him in the arm, but I think he drugged me because I started to pass out even though his arm wasn’t tight enough to cut off my air.”

  She covers her face. “Caden kept crying. I couldn’t get to him.” Her eyes beg me to believe her when she looks into mine. “I tried. I couldn’t move. It happened so fast.”

  Tears spill over onto my cheeks and I do my best not to lose it completely. I want to trash the entire room. Grab every person on the planet and torture them until they lead me to my boy. My voice comes out as a croak and not nearly as convincing as I’d like. “It’s not your fault.”

  They ask her a few more questions but it’s clear she doesn’t know much. She agrees to give a DNA sample to help differentiate us from any DNA the kidnappers may have left behind. After they’ve collected it, we’re left alone.

  As much as I want to grill her with more questions she can’t answer, I restrain myself. “I’m so sorry, Ax. I’m so fucking sorry,” she sobs, and I wrap my arms around her, letting my own tears fall.

  “I don’t blame you. You didn’t put him at risk.” No, I did that, just by being his father. “You were where you were supposed to be with him, and you had security with you. This isn’t your fault.”

  “Is Jake okay?”

  My sigh gives her the answer, and she holds me tighter. “They won’t hurt him. They wanted him bad enough to kill to get him so why would they hurt him?”

  I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince, me or herself. Maybe she’s right. They killed Jake but came prepared to drug Naomi. Why did they spare her? Because she was easier to subdue? Does that mean they’re less likely to hurt Caden? A glance at my phone for the hundredth time shows no messages or calls. If it’s money they want, why don’t they fucking call?

  “We need to get home,” Naomi insists, letting me go and getting to her feet.

  “The hospital hasn’t released you.”

  Opening a nearby cabinet, she pulls out her clothes. “Ask me if I give a shit.”

  I’m desperate to get home too, but I’m not sure about taking her back there. “Naomi, there’s a lot of blood and—”

  “I can handle it.”

  Neither of us is prepared for what we return home to an hour later. All the paparazzi and crazed fans up to this point are nothing compared to the media circus packed onto my street. Officers are doing their best to hold them back. They can keep them out of my yard, but they can’t prevent the screamed questions and accusations from the street.

  “Fucking vultures,” Naomi spits as we’re hustled across the yard in a circle of officers and agents.

  Maybe I should’ve expected this. After all, an amber alert went out for a celebrity baby. The media must be thrilled. I don’t care. Whatever draws attention to Hatch and helps someone identify him so he can be brought home. For once, maybe the stalkers can do some good.

  Mixed in with the shouts of well wishes, prayers, and I love yous are accusatory questions that light my blood on fire.

  “Axton, were you home when your son was taken?”

  “Did you leave him home alone?”

  “Has there been a ransom call?”

  “Do they have any suspects?”

  “What did you do to your baby?”

  It’s dark outside now, but my street is lit up like an operating room while the world watches our turmoil.

  Dani and Jude jump to their feet when we enter, and Dani rushes to hug Naomi. Jude pulls me aside. “How are you holding up?”

  Of all the guys, I expected Elliot to be the one to respond best in an emotional situation, but Jude is the one I’m closest to. As if he can read my thoughts, he adds, “The guys wanted to come, but the cops won’t let anyone else on the scene.”

  “I’m holding on but if they don’t find him soon, I’m afraid I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” I admit.

  “I wish there was something I could say. Just know I’ve got your back. We all do.” He glances around the room at the cops milling about. “I have some Valium if you’d like one.”

  My palm rasps across my cheek. “Thanks. I can’t. I need to be alert.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. If you change your mind.”

  The four of us end up sitting on the couch, my phone on the table in front of us, and I’m not the only one who keeps glancing at it. I don’t know how this usually works, but I know in the movies, ransom isn’t usually a possibility once cops are involved.

  I can’t imagine going to meet some shadowy character in an alley with a crowd of cops and paparazzi following me, but I guess that’s not the way it would go down anyway. If they call, I can wire money through my bank account. They could drop him off somewhere.

  Trying to distract myself, I flip the television on, but instantly regret it. Caden’s face is in a split screen with a photo of me. It’s encouraging to see his photo getting coverage, but the media is going on like this is the most exciting thing they’ve ever heard.

  They take our horror, fear, and grief, and turn them into entertainment, bringing on “experts” to discuss the chances of Hatch’s rescue. Like they’re taking odds on my son’s life.

  People are fucking awful.

  It’s the longest night of my entire life. We get bits and pieces of information. The DNA should be back in the morning and if we’re lucky, one of the intruders will be in the system. We’re told the tip line is raking in tips and they’re sorting through them, chasing down the most valuable. The house security cameras don’t do much good since the intruders wore masks. We know there were two. A man who killed Jake, then knocked out Naomi. And a woman who stole my son.

  No cars. They left on foot. The agents are collecting other footage from the neighbors who live farther down the street, where they may have parked.

  As the woman left through the back patio door, Caden’s face turned toward the camera, his mouth open in a cry. That image is all I can see. His parted lips, the terror in his eyes as a stranger takes him from his home.

  A new image for my nightmares.

  Another to add to the list.

  If I don’t get him back safe, I’m not sure I’ll survive this. I’m not sure I want to.

  I sure as hell deserve to. To live and suffer with the decisions I’ve made that keep destroying lives.

  At some point just before dawn, Dani goes to lay down in her bed, and Jude excuses himself to the music room, leaving me and Naomi alone on the couch. She’s pale, making the bruise on her neck stand out even more. She looks as sick as I feel.

  I slide my arm around her waist and pull her over. “Lie down for a few minutes.”

  Without an argument, she lays her head on my lap. “Ax.”

  “Hmm.”


  Her watery voice breaks my heart that’s already shattered ten times over. “He’s okay. I know it. They’ll find him. We’ll all be together again.”

  Swallowing back a sob, I slip my palm onto the nape of her neck. “If there was a god I held to, I’d pray for nothing but that.”

  Eighteen hours. Hatch has been missing eighteen hours and I’m starting to come loose at the seams. It feels like an out of body experience. This isn’t happening to me. I’m on some kind of weird autopilot as I answer questions when the agents pose them and wait for news. My skin crawls with the need to do something. Search, scream, hunt down every fucker who may stand between me and Hatch. The fact that I don’t even have an idea where to start, that all I can do is sit here helplessly is the worst torture I’ve ever known.

  My son is out there with fuck knows who. They could be doing anything to him. He could be crying for me, and I’m just sitting here.

  The rest of the world seems to drain away a little more by the minute. A part of me recognizes when Jude tries to get me to eat or drink. I feel Naomi’s body against mine and hear the news droning in the background. But it’s all in the distance, behind the clock that has become my focal point. My gaze only leaves it to glance at my worthless fucking phone that won’t ring before I return to watching the seconds tick by. The minutes. The hours.

  A screech from Naomi jerks me into reality just to find it’s the last place I want to be. Her eyes are glued to the TV screen, her mouth open in horror as the newscaster speaks. “The body of a baby has been found on the bank of White River. At this time, we have no confirmation of the identity or whether it could be Caden Todd, the missing child of Axton Todd from the rock band Tragic. A source has informed us that the child is male. We will update as we have further information.”

  Naomi leaps to her feet and runs from the room.

  I’m not myself. My body is not my own. My voice is unrecognizable to me as I step into the kitchen and confront the two agents waiting there. “Is he dead? Did they find him?”

  Both of them regard me with perplexed looks, and I can’t take anymore. The next thing I know, my hands are wrapped in one of the agent’s shirts and his face is inches from mine. “Is it him?”

  Two sets of hands pull me away and I hear Jude’s voice, but the words he’s speaking don’t get through. Digging my nails into my scalp, I hear an anguished wail. It takes a few moments before I realize it came from me.

  A face appears in front of mine. Agent Roberts. “It’s not him!” Rough hands grab my jaw, and he shouts into my face. “It’s not him! The baby they found was a newborn. Still had an umbilical cord attached. It is not Caden.”

  The news filters in, and I can breathe again. Pulling myself together, I nod, and realize I’m on my knees on the floor.

  “Naomi,” I croak, and rush to find her. I need to make sure she knows.

  She’s coming up the hall with a female agent at her side, and I grab her, pulling her into my arms. “It’s not him. It’s not Caden.”

  “I know.” Her arms wrap tight around me and we hold each other for a few more moments. The relief is short lived. He’s still out there somewhere and every moment that goes by whittles away at his chance of survival.

  I’m not sure how much more I can take.

  Dani flips off the TV as we return to the living room and shakes her head. “No more. It’s just making things worse.”

  Through the window, I see another dark SUV park in front of the house and two agents enter as the two from the kitchen join us. My fear is reignited. It’s clear something has happened.

  They know something.

  One of them approaches Naomi. “Ms. Wells?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s the only word she gets out before the agent pulls her hands behind her back and cuffs them. “You’re being detained and held for questioning in the murder of Jacob Hathlon and the kidnapping of Caden Todd.”

  The shock and the sudden buzz in my ears makes it hard to focus, but by the time the agent has read Naomi her rights, I’ve shaken it off. Rage fills me.

  “What the fuck?” The agents stop short when I step in front of them. “She didn’t take him!”

  “Mr. Todd, some evidence has been brought to our attention that—”

  “Fuck your evidence! You’re wrong! They drugged and choked her! You know that!”

  As if I never said a word, the agent continues to calmly explain. “As I said, we have uncovered—”

  “What? What could possibly make you think she did this? You’re wasting time when you should be looking for the people who took my son!” My shouts don’t dissuade them.

  Moving around me, they lead her to the door as I stay on their heels. Dani and Jude are right behind me. The bright sunlight makes me blink, and the roar of the crowd of paparazzi and people make it hard to hear.

  A firm hand on my arm makes me look back, and I’m a second away from punching the agent in the mouth when he speaks. “Mr. Todd. The DNA results are back. We found yours, Dani’s, Naomi’s, the other members of Tragic, as we expected. We also found a foreign gray hair in your son’s room that is a familial match to Caden.”

  In my state, it doesn’t even register that Caden doesn’t have any blood family other than mine.

  “Then you know who it was! Why are you arresting Naomi?”

  “She’s not under arrest. She’s being detained for questioning downtown.”

  Something isn’t adding up and I feel like I’m going crazy. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense!”

  “Mr. Todd, the hair wasn’t the only familial match to your son.”

  “What?” The word comes out on a breath, barely audible.

  “You stated that Naomi was hired as a nanny through a local agency? She has no other connection to the child?”

  My gut roils as I nod.

  “The DNA confirmed she is related. Caden is the child of Naomi’s sister. He’s Naomi’s nephew.”

  It can’t be right. Something. They fucked up the test somehow. My head weighs twenty pounds when I lift it and look at Naomi.

  Her gaze meets mine for only a moment as she’s being put in the back of the SUV, and my world crumbles as she mouths two words.

  “I’m sorry.”

  THE END

  Read the conclusion of Axton and Naomi’s story in book two of the Tragic Duet, Rock Star, Unbroken.

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  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people who helped make this book possible. First, my alphas, Chantal Baxendale, Aimee Degagne, and Melissa Teo. Thanks for being the first to read and encouraging me not to set it on fire and go work as a crossing guard or something. When Melissa messages you demanding more chapters, you keep writing the damn book.

  To my betas, Veronica Ashley, Colette Trainor, Amanda Munson, Theresa O’Reilly, Bridget McEvoy, Paige Shorey, Christina Santos, Sarah Piechuta, Kelly Tucker, and Rebecca Reviews, thank you so much for all your hard work to clean this book up. I always look forward to your honest (and savage) feedback that pushes me to do my absolute best.

  Melissa Teo, my PA and favorite maple bitch, I couldn’t do this without you. Thank you for all you do to keep me organized an
d sane. You make me look like a professional and that’s a damn hard to feat to manage.

  Veronica Ashley, you’re a fucking peach. Thank you for all the messages cursing me out over this book, I enjoyed them immensely. Also for keeping my group a friendly place and everything else you do.

  To my nemesis, S.K. Rose, thanks for taking the time to read during your incubation duties. I’ll send you a box of Frosted Flakes. P.S. Shannon can be a boy’s name. Just sayin’.

  To my group, Shady Ladies, you amazing people follow me from suspense to comedy to angst to gay romance, and I can’t express how thankful I am. It’s wonderful to be able to write what’s in my head, no matter the genre, and know you’ll give it a try. You all make the group a fun, accepting place for everyone to hang out. Thank you for everything.

  Jay Aheer, from Simply Defined Art, thank you for the cover that’s sure to make ovaries explode everywhere.

  Thank you, Abigail Davies, from Pink Elephant Designs, for the pretty formatting and for always getting me in on short notice because I’m terrible at planning ahead.

  To Give Me Books and Danielle Sanchez of Wildfire Marketing, thank you for getting Rock Star, Interrupted in front of so many eyes.

  So many people help me every day by sharing or recommending my books that I could never list them all. Whether you’re a fellow author, a blogger, page owner, or reader, I’m very grateful for all the love and support.

  Crown of Lies

  Copyright © 2017 Pepper Winters

  Published by Pepper Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

 

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