by Edith Hawkes
I needed a moment to think straight and closed my eyes. The temptation to call my dad, and even Jake, was rising. I missed Jake’s huge protective arms; he’d see off this idiot no problem, I thought.
No, that wouldn’t be the answer. I could handle this myself, I had to.
Whitefang? I frowned. Why was that name so familiar? Where had I heard it before? Intrigued I pulled out my phone and typed the name into a local search. In a matter of seconds the results were in and I tapped on the first story to pop up.
Fuck.
As I read the headline and the following article, accompanied with a headshot of the man who’d only minutes before been at my door, a cold shiver trickled down my spine. This wasn’t good.
Local Businessman Mr. Florez – Thug or Innocent Citizen?
Then I read the by-line: Tom Perkins. Crap, dad. What have you done?
The expose was brutal. It didn’t cross libel lines but it damn well went right up to them. No wonder the guy was pissed.
Damon Florez owned a nightclub downtown, surprisingly called Whitefang. Reading between the lines, it was clear my dad was hinting that this guy was dirty… that his whole business operation was a cover for something much more sinister. Drugs? Weapons? I thought.
It could be anything.
Either way, I wasn’t going to risk sticking around to find out. Damon, Whitefang, whatever his name was, scared me.
I was planning on leaving anyway. Stopping was only going to be temporary anyway, while I figured my own shit out. The timetable had just been moved up, that was all. I’d get myself outta dodge before the great big brute came back and everyone would be safe. Right?
A loud crash of splintered wood and broken glass thundered from the hallway. Damon stomped inside and came for me, advancing fast.
I turned to flee, pulling helplessly on the back door. But it was locked and my trembling fingers couldn’t unlatch it in time.
“Where do you think you’re going?
“You said I had two hours!” I spat back as his rough hands grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides. My phone dropped from my hand and scattered across the floor out of my reach.
“I changed my mind,” he snarled. “You’re coming with me.”
Like hell I was! And screamed.
His hand clamped over my mouth and with only one hand upon my arm I took the chance to try wriggle free. When it was clear I was going nowhere I kicked and stomped on his instep, but he only winced. His eyes flashed from blue to a deep amber. It was going to take a lot more than that to get me out of this mess, I thought.
“Behave!” he roared.
I ignored him and thrashed harder, my nails digging into his flesh.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Damon said and hauled me over his shoulder and proceeded to walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, shards of glass crackled under his heavy boots.
There was nothing I could do to escape his grip. After a few long strides he stopped and threw me into the back of a van.
“Now, keep quiet,” he warned. The metal door slammed shut and blackness descended upon me.
Great.
* * *
My bum, squishy as it was, went numb as it bounced upon the bare, unpadded floor of the van. We were obviously travelling over the worst terrain imaginable: potholed city roads. You would’ve thought in this day and age civilisation would’ve perfected long-lasting non-crumbling tarmac. But no, here I was trapped, being thrown without mercy like a ball in a pinball machine, as the vehicle juddered to an unknown destination.
If I got out of this alive, I would be bruised like a soft peach, I thought.
Finally, the van stopped and the engine died. I braced myself against the side opposite the door and waited, I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. My claws were ready, and as Damon got out the front, his absent weight caused the van to rock slightly.
As soon as the side door slid open I launched myself at my captor.
Go for the eyes! Blind the fucker! I screamed internally.
My body slammed into Damon’s rock-like figure as I tried to knock him over but he didn’t even step back. I got in a couple of blows, pitiful really, before he clamped down upon my wrists and dragged me into a building.
The air was thick with sweat, stale beer, and the sharp smell of cleaning products that tried to mask the dingy odours. It was as much good as spraying perfume upon a steaming pile of crap.
So, this was club, Whitefang, I thought looking around, trying to spy an escape route. Definitely not my type of place, what with the leather decor, thick rope like chains that draped from the ceiling and dancing cages that were dotted around at the edges of the dance floor.
Oh, crap, I thought as he stopped in front of one of the cages.
“Get in.”
I shook my head. “No fucking way. Just tell me what the hell you want!”
Damon scooped me up effortlessly and threw me in and I landed with a thump. I scrambled to my feet towards the cage entrance. The bar door slammed in my face and was quickly padlocked.
My fists took hold of the bars and rattled them with all my puny might.
“I wouldn’t bother. They may look like they are just for decoration but I assure you they are not.”
I stopped and gave him a furious stare, wishing I had lasers for eyes.
“Fine, Damon, you got me locked up. What now?”
Ignoring my question he cocked his head to the side. “Ah, good you know who I am then.”
“Not really, just what I’ve read,” I spat back. “Why do you need to speak to my father?”
“That’s between me and him, but now that I have you, I’m sure it’ll give him an incentive to show his face. So, why don’t you be a dear and give him a call?”
I laughed. “Are you stupid? Do you really think if I had my phone right now that I wouldn’t have called the police already?”
Damon waggled a phone in front of the cage and I stuck my hand through the bars. He shook his head. “Give me the number and I’ll dial it for you.” The edges of his lips curled up into a twisted smile.
“What century do you think we’re in? Do you really think I’ve memorised his number? That’s the whole point of having a phone,” I said, lying through my back teeth.
He sniffed the air and my heart galloped. That was not what he wanted to hear.
“You aren’t a very good liar, you know. But have it your way. The nightclub isn’t open during the week, enjoy your time in the cage. Four long days and nights.”
Damon walked away, nearing the exit.
“Oh, come on. At least leave me something to eat - I’m starving!”
He shrugged and wiggled his fingers in a mock farewell wave.
“What if I have to pee?” I shouted as he disappeared, a door slamming behind him.
I sat down and sighed.
So, this was what it felt like to be a songbird trapped in a tiny cage.
At least they were able to sing, I thought, but I didn’t have that luxury; there was no way I was going to give up the location of my father to this thug, no matter what.
Six
Jake
My phone laid silent upon my desk as I paced in my office. I had three investigators on my payroll, each with their own specific set of skills but I charged them all with locating Jess. The first to get back to me would receive a handsome bonus.
I glanced at my watched, twenty minutes had passed since I’d given them their mission. It wouldn’t be long now. These guys lived for the hunt.
Soon, Jess would be back in my arms, where she belonged and we could forget this ever happened. But why would she leave and not come to me first? I could’ve dealt with Doug - I had dealt with him - did she not trust me? Why would she leave after the most amazing night of my life?
Perhaps the intense pull towards her that had grown only stronger since I’d taken her, wasn’t flowing both ways. Maybe the imprinting only worked one way? At the thought, my stomach curdled in anger… and sadness if I
was being truthful with myself.
It would be my luck to first declare that love didn’t exist only to fall for someone without any choice in the matter and then for her not to love me back.
I growled and drove my fist into the wall. She was twisting me all up inside and I knew there was no going back from this.
What if this was her way of rejecting me and Doug’s interference was just an excuse? I shook my head trying to clear it. Idiot, you shouldn’t have left her on the trail.
The phone rang and I snatched it up, catching a glance at the caller ID, before it could vibrate across the table.
“Tell me you have good news, Ben?” I asked impatiently.
“Have I ever let you down? You best start writing out that cheque for me.”
“First things first,” I prompted.
“Well, I found your step-father’s truck.”
“Where?”
“You know this would go a lot quicker if you stopped interrupting me,” he said and chortled.
Getting the hint I stayed silent.
“So, it’s in the long-term parking lot at the airport.”
Crap, she’s probably halfway around the world by now.
“But guess what?”
“Oh I can talk now, can I? What?” I asked.
“She didn’t get on a plane.”
A momentary feeling of relief washed over me. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Unless she has access to fake passports and such. But she’s not the type with those kinds of resources from what you told me.”
“Nah, I don’t think she’d even know where to look for one of those. OK, so where is she?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” Ben crooned, obviously pleased with himself. “Does 253 Elmwood Road, ring a bell?”
“You’re kidding me? She went home?”
“Yup.”
Idiot. Why hadn’t I thought of checking there first? I’d immediately thought the worst.
“Is she still there?”
“I dunno, her phone is at least. Why don’t you try knocking on the door to find out?” Ben said, holding back a laugh.
“Do you still want to be paid?” I joked and quickly added, “Thanks, Ben.”
“No problem, just bring me something harder next time, OK?”
We said our goodbyes and I ended the call, immediately dialling my travel assistant to get the helicopter prepped for flight. It would take about thirty minutes, but now I knew that Jess was safe in her old home I could feel my muscles relaxing as the worry drained from them.
And although there was no need to rush, I still wanted to get to her sooner than later and taking the helicopter would cut the travel time to the city drastically.
* * *
“You found her?” Tom asked, his knitted brow smoothing as I nodded and explained her whereabouts. I wasn’t the only one who’d been sick with worry.
“I’m going to go collect her now and I’ve sent someone to collect your truck from the airport. Want to come with?”
“No, it’s probably best I don’t show my face in the city at the moment.”
“Any reason why?” I asked, intrigued why he would choose to stay behind.
“Nothing to worry about; work stuff,” he replied, his eyes darting away, unable to make eye-contact.
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, it’ll blow over. Just bring my little girl back safe.”
“That’s the plan. Back soon,” I said, grabbed my jacket and left the house. Walking down to the clearing near the base of Scarfell Mountain, I pondered Tom’s reluctance. He was hiding something. For him not to come with me, to risk not going back to the city, was serious.
But one crisis at a time. Once, Jess was back safe I’d make him tell me. We couldn’t have more secrets on this Mountain.
* * *
We made good time, the wind direction was in our favour, and the pilot landed on top of one of my buildings in the city in less than an hour. A driver was waiting for me below, already aware of my destination, and it wasn’t long before we pulled onto Elmwood Road.
I couldn’t wait to see Jess again. I was furious with her for leaving, but excited that any moment now I’d be pulling her into my arms and carrying her back to where she belonged.
Stepping out of the car, my stomach dropped and all the hope that had been building evaporated, as my eyes landed upon the destruction of the front door, left wide open and completely shattered.
“Jess?” I called as I ran into the house.
A putrid wet-dog smell hit me almost immediately and the hackles upon my neck sprang upwards.
It can’t be.
Calling Jess’ name I went from room to room, following the trail of knocked over items, finally stopping in the kitchen.
An empty glass tumbler lay intact on its side on the counter. I sniffed again. Fear, she’d been afraid and Jess’s sweet rose-like scent mingled with another.
Beer. Cigarettes. Wolf.
I was certain this time.
Bowing my head I tried to think. None of it made sense, what would they want with Jess?
I opened my lids my eyes came into focus, spotting a discarded phone on the floor.
It had to be hers. With a few taps it was clear I wasn’t going to be able to crack the pin she’d set, and pulled out my own phone.
“Ben, bonus points for you if you can hack into Jess’s phone and tell me who she’s been in contact with,” I said, omitting the pleasantries.
“Oh, a worthy challenge!” he said. “Give me a minute or two.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me and kept the phone plastered to my ear. Sounds of rapid typing travelled down the receiver.
While I waited I retraced my steps through the house, looking for any clues, but deep down I knew I wouldn’t find any. This was a snatch and grab. In and out. The question was who had taken her and why?
There were only so many shifter packs in the city that I knew of, it wouldn’t take too long to put out feelers. But I still couldn’t piece it together… Jess was a nobody to them. The only reason to take her was to hurt me, but no one knew about us… Except two people: Hank and Doug.
And Doug wasn’t smart enough to put all this in motion… he’d gotten what he wanted: her gone, there was no need for him to do anything else. And Hank. No way, I wasn’t even going to go there. I trusted him with my life.
Plus how would’ve they know she was here?
I was missing something.
“Jake? Bad news I’m afraid, there’s been no outgoing or incoming calls, apart from yours and Toms, to her phone.”
“Fuck! Nothing from this morning? Anything?” I could feel the trail going cold.
“Well, there is something. She did run a couple of searches earlier. News articles, nothing exciting.”
“Read them to me.”
Ben did as he was requested and I almost swore again when I heard the name.
“Did you just say Whitefang?” I gritted my teeth and balled my free hand up into a fist.
“Yep. Why? Oh, wait a minute. Wanna guess who the reporter of that story is?”
“Tom Perkins,” I groaned, my hand kneading my forehead.
“Bingo!”
“Thanks, Ben. Gotta go.”
“Wait, don’t you want to know where to find this Whitefang?”
“Oh, I already know,” I growled and hung up.
Seven
Jess
Why didn’t you get on a plane? And go far far away?
I could’ve been somewhere tropical right now.
My stomach complained loudly and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ate. Should’ve brought along a snack too, I thought, but then again you don’t really get a heads up before you’re kidnapped. Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing?
The muscles in my neck were tight, I was getting a bit of crick. It felt like I’d been trapped in the dancer’s cage for days but I was sure it had only been a couple of hours. Whitefang,
Damon, whatever his name was, was obviously trying to sweat the information out of me.
Maybe if he brought me a gourmet cheeseburger, with all the trimmings, from Frankie’s across town I may have thought about loosening my tongue. Of course, I wouldn’t provide him with any pertinent information. Maybe send him off on a wild goose chase for a little bit, whilst I figured out how to unpick the bloody lock and get out here.
Eugh.
It was useless. My sweaty fingers fumbled and let go of the bobby pin and it dropped out of reach. The insides of my arms ached from pressing them up against the bars and angling them so I could reach the padlock. There was no way I would be able to open it now, even if I did have another pointy lock picking stick to poke it with. The end of bobby pin had been too fat in any case.
What else could I do? I was out of options. I peered into the gloom around the silent nightclub. I hated feeling helpless, a reluctant damsel in distress. Yet I had no other choice but to sit here and wait, and daydream of Jake bursting through the doors and taking me in his arms, of course after he bent the bars all out of shape and freed me.
Jake wouldn’t know where to find me anyway. It was folly to torture myself with images of being rescued. He was up on his mountain probably hating me right this moment for leaving like I did. The guilt swirled in my stomach like undigested hot sauce, burning a hole through my flesh.
Maybe if I ever got out of this mess, I’d make it up to him. But the whole reason I left was to keep away from him, keep him at arm’s length so my dad would never find out.
The double doors of the nightclub clanked open, letting in a streaming shaft of bright white light from outside. Visions of Jake’s face transplanted itself upon the silhouetted figure in the door way. A tiny trickle of hope eked its way into my heart and I blinked rapidly, squinting to make out who it was.
“You ready to talk?” Damon asked.
My shoulders sagged, it felt as if all the air I’d been holding onto had been forcefully evacuated from my body. So much for daydreams.