Losing Grace (Falling Away #2)

by Allie Little

  I listen for sounds of life. Nothing comes from the boot of the car. Nothing at all.

  What if she’s dead?

  “Buckle up, darling.” His voice cuts the silence of my fear. He wears a strange smile, as if satisfied with his lot.

  I hasten to pull the seatbelt around my frozen body, eyeing him warily. Still so cold, but daring not to ask for the heater.

  “I want you to remember where you belong. Do you remember, Gracie? Has it come back to you?”

  Nodding slowly, my adrenaline spikes as he reaches for the heater controls.

  “Are you cold? Here, let me fix that.” He increases the temperature while I gaze from the window into a blurry, vacant night. My reflection in the side mirror shows a stranger gazing back, acute defeat pervading her eyes.

  “You’re very quiet, darling. We’ll be home soon. You must be tired.” The car rounds a few bends, taking me home to my Avalon castle. Bleached weatherboards and white picket fences. Climbing banksia roses, cascading in a dance from the upper balcony, shoot memories of the day I’d planted them into my heart. Two weeks after our honeymoon I’d lovingly set them into the earth. And now they mock me for the dreams I’d had.

  Daniel swerves the car into our drive. The winter roses bloom into the night, white like the stars, swaying in unison with the breeze. The sight of the house makes me ill.

  Too much pain.

  He cuts the engine with the turn of a key. With a slow, creeping smile, he faces me. “Darling, we’re home.”

  31

  Riley

  “She’s in trouble. I know it.”

  Brady slides a sideways glance at me from the driver’s seat. “What are your instincts telling you?”

  “That he’s taken her.”

  “So, where would the psycho take her? Come on, think. What’s he wanting here?”

  “He wants her back. Back home with him. As his wife.”

  Brady rubs an index finger across the stubble of his chin several times, back and forth. “Do you know where they lived?”

  I shake my head glumly. “I wish I did. All I know is they lived at Avalon.”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard to find the address.”

  Brady pulls the car to the side of the road and drags out his mobile. He jabs a finger at the screen several times. “What’s his last name?”

  “Grace’s last name is Carter. But I’m not sure if that’s her married name or not.” I hide my face in my hands and let out a long, slow breath, berating myself for never having asked.

  A shrill ring comes from my phone. Grabbing for it, Gemma’s name lights up across the screen. “Hey, Gem.”

  “Riley, what’s going on? Grace asked me to check on her Gran a couple of days ago, and this is the first chance I’ve had. I’ve just arrived at Bess’s place and things don’t look right.”

  “What do you mean, Gem?” My heart skips and Brady looks at me, waiting.

  “No-one’s here, but Bess’s frame is overturned in the kitchen and Grace’s phone is on the floor beside it.”

  “We’re coming, don’t leave. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “Are you nearby? I spotted your car a few streets away. The windows were all wide open, looking abandoned. What’s going on?”

  “Don’t go anywhere, Gem. I’m with Brady – we’ll be there soon. We’ll explain when we get there.”

  I cut the call. “You’ve got to get to Fairy Bower. He’s been at her grandmother’s house. I think he may have taken them both.”

  Brady makes a reckless U-turn and heads back the other way. “Is Gem okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. Just wondering what the hell is going on, as am I.”

  Brady takes Harbord Rd toward Fairy Bower, down through Manly and up over the rise. The car rounds another few bends before pulling up in front of Bess’s house. Illuminated by headlights, the house looms like a monstrous shadow, cold and empty.

  The porch light flicks on, Gemma making her way down the weathered timber steps. Her face is silhouetted by the light behind as we push from the car.

  “You okay, Sis?” Brady asks, wrapping her in a quick hug.

  “I’m fine, just a little rattled. What’s going on?”

  “Grace is missing.” I push past frantically into the house. “And thanks for calling. This is the first lead we’ve had.”

  Without waiting I head for the kitchen, fumbling for light switches along the way. There on the floor lies Grace’s phone, and Gran’s frame, sideways beside it.

  “Grace!” My voice echoes through the hallway. “Bess? Are you here?”

  But no answer other than Gem’s footsteps on the floorboards, treading their way toward me.

  Taking the rear steps to the yard, I find myself leaning precariously over the railed fence. The swelling sea heaves at the base of the rocky cliffs below. “Grace!” My desperate cry is swallowed by the infinite ocean beyond.

  Gem runs an arm around my waist and we stare over the sea together. “She’s not here, Riles. I’ve checked everywhere.”

  “But her phone’s here.”

  Gemma shakes her head, the movement miniscule. “Yeah, but she’s not. And neither is Bess. The back door was wide open. And I found this…” She hands me a tiny bottle of medication, insignificant except for its lack of contents.

  “Rohypnol?” A sharp intake of air overwhelms me. “He’s drugged her.”

  “We don’t know that, Riley.” Brady takes the bottle from my hands and scans the label. “Date rape drug, often used for spiking drinks in clubs. Also known as the ‘forget me’ drug.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Brady swiftly shakes his head. “Not kidding.”

  “This is worse than I thought.”

  Gemma squeezes me softly on the arm. “We’ll find her, Riley. This is what Brady does.”

  A sudden thought hits. “Did you ever visit their house in Avalon?”

  She looks at me as if I’m slightly crazy. “Of course I did. She’s my best friend. I spent a lot of time there.”

  “Take us to the house,” Brady commands, heading inside. Pocketing keys and phone from the kitchen bench, he motions for us to follow. “Come on.”

  Gemma secures the back door then straightens up Bess’s walking frame from the floor.

  “Quickly,” Brady barks, striding down the hallway.

  “Drop me at my car, Brady. Gem, you’ll need to show us where it is.”

  Gem piles into the backseat of Brady’s car, nodding at my demand. At the end of a quiet street nearby she locates my car, abandoned in dim shadows.

  “Follow us, Brady.”

  Brady nods as we push from his car and launch into mine, the familiar sound of the grumbly engine a welcome relief.

  “Head north,” Gem says simply. “I’ll take you to their house.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Brady’s headlights looming behind us all the way around the bends, we pull up in front of a large white weatherboard house. Pretty roses droop from the balcony above, floodlit by moonlight.

  All that’s been cycling through my head on the way here is amplified now.

  How much I need her.

  Right now.

  In my life.

  Here in this moment.

  I thrust from the car and take the steps to the porch two at a time, thumping my fist at the front door. But no lights throw muted tones from the windows. The house is in darkness. Empty.

  “Keep it down, mate. Nothing like the element of surprise, hey?” he whispers hoarsely, seizing my arm. Brady wedges himself between me and the door, slips a slim plastic card in the compressed space beside the doorjamb and gives the doorhandle a slight wriggle. The door separates from its frame, streetlights sending shafts of dusky yellow onto the floorboards inside.

  I close my eyes and inhale. Her perfume. The scent she wears, wafting like a seductive flower, fragrant and light. It’s Grace, wrapping me in her warmth and reminding me of her smile. Of how I feel when I’m
with her.

  Brady gives me a shake. “What are you doing?”

  My eyes pop open to Brady and Gem giving the strangest of looks.

  “She’s here. I know it.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Brady flicks on a flashlight and hands another to me. “I’ll take upstairs, you search down here.”

  32

  Grace

  I’d never given much thought to how I would die. Perhaps in my sleep, drifting with a tide of infinite light. Or quickly, taken by a bolt of lightning from the sky. I’d imagined my spirit floating free, in cobalt and sapphire. I’d be weightlessly adrift, my awareness alive.

  He’d offered me the universe. The lazy scent of summer and the glisten of sunlight, fractured over the sea. He’d taken my hand beneath a blood-red sky and I’d wished for forever. He’d promised me an eternity of gooey marshmallow-hearts and tattooed wings of freedom.

  My desire for that was immeasurable.

  Survival now is on memories alone, the scraps and pieces left behind. I let them take me. Away from here, and from this …

  His voice chills my soul.

  “Tell me your darkest secret, darling.”

  I will never be your darling.

  “Tell me your deepest fear.”

  You, Daniel. You are my deepest fear.

  My eyes burn.

  Shuffling footsteps clear the fog. On floorboards above, the murmur of voices both soft and frantic is barely audible, like vapour in air. In the dark I can’t see, fear blinds me. It swallows me whole, the earthy stench suffocating.

  But his voice …

  That voice …

  A large hand clamps down upon my mouth. I might smother beneath it; might choke without air. And cutting at my temples, the pain isn’t dull. Can’t be softened by half-measure or diluted by lack of clarity.

  My wrists hurt.

  But that voice …

  My mind cracks open and a desperate heart hopes.

  He’d search for me.

  He’d come for me.

  He’d never give up.

  I imagine his arms wrapped tight around me, my head on his broad chest. I crave to be held in his safe embrace, his whispered words of love at my ear.

  My final memory is of coming home. Of Daniel forcing me to drink, the bitter taste filling my mouth like poison. A broken memory of Daniel carrying Gran and of wooziness and exhaustion. Of longing for the swift protection of oblivious sleep.

  My thoughts are broken with the distant sound of Gran’s breathing.

  A sigh of relief escapes.

  Gran is alive.

  “Don’t make a sound,” Daniel commands, adjusting duct tape across my mouth. He presses it down firmly, as if the air release might give us away. At the sound of voices, he crushes a hand over my throat, the air without passage to my lungs.

  My chest aches.

  “She’s not here, Brady.” Riley’s voice sounds muffled from upstairs. “We’ve searched the entire property. There’s nowhere else she could be.”

  “We’ll find her mate. And if she’s not here, we’ll work out where she is.”

  The sounds of footsteps and hushed whispers abate. At the soft click of the front door and the growl of Riley’s car dissipating, a well of tears springs from my eyes. Hope dwindles, decomposing into nothing.

  Daniel releases his hand from my neck, and although I have air, I have nothing at all.

  ***

  Shards of light poke through tiny holes in the air vent. Pinpricks of sunshine catch the walls, enough to allow my vision to return. Gran and I lie on mattresses hugging the filthy floor. On the other side of the basement, her eyes are peacefully closed and she breathes gently, blissfully unaware.

  The sound of a key in the door jumps my senses. He descends the stairs carrying a tray with steaming cups of tea alongside egg and bacon muffins, as if it’s another of our Sunday mornings. Just the way we used to spend them, before…

  “Good morning, darling. How did you sleep?”

  I grunt behind the duct tape fastened over my lips.

  He places the tray on the floor and pulls the tape swiftly away, stinging the soft skin on my lips. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

  He cups my face in his hands and gazes into my eyes. “So beautiful. Even first thing in the morning. I remember this.” Giving a contented smile, Daniel reaches for a cup of tea, sipping it slowly. “But first, ground rules, darling. If I’m to untie you for breakfast, you’re not to run. You’re not to leave me again. Ever. Do you hear me?”

  I nod, giving my silent assurance.

  He waggles a disapproving finger. “Uh-uh, not good enough. I need to hear you say it. Say you’ll never leave me.”

  My gaze drifts away, resting anywhere but his face.

  “Say you’ll never leave me.” His tone is serious, more demanding.

  I bite my lip, the brassy taste of blood still lingering in my mouth. “I’ll never leave you.”

  A bizarre smile spreads clean across his features as he settles his mollified gaze upon mine. “I only wish we had more time.”

  At the sound of Gran waking his jaw tightens. “You see? I need you upstairs with me Gracie, but I also need an assurance you won’t run. If you do,” he gestures his head toward Gran, “well, you know what could happen.”

  Get your head straight.

  Think.

  Draw him in.

  Make him believe.

  Alien thoughts flit through my shattered mind. Images of Daniel, defeated. Riley in the sunshine. My beautiful Riley, strong and present. Daniel’s darkness, dragging me down.

  My eyes drift from his. “I’d like to go upstairs with you. I want to be home, Daniel. With you, just the two of us. The way it used to be.”

  He cocks his head to the side, alert for signs of deceit. His mouth purses together. “I don’t believe you.”

  “But I’ve missed you, Dan. Missed us. I’m so sorry I left you. I never should have.”

  He shakes his head from side to side, my words giving little comfort.

  “You believe me, don’t you? I’ve always been truthful with you. You can trust me, Dan.”

  “Can I?” he questions, without missing a beat. “Once upon a time I could. But now I’m not so sure.”

  “We were happy, weren’t we? Just the two of us? Why don’t we go upstairs, watch a movie and eat? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Daniel nods sagely. “For so many months I dreamed of having you back, and now here you are.”

  “Take me upstairs, darling. Let me look after you.”

  For a moment, he looks as if he may cry. He cuts the cables from my wrists, then collects the tray and creeps upstairs.

  Gran stirs in her sleep, struggling to open her eyes.

  I pull the blanket around her chin, the soft weave snug against her skin. “I’m sorry, Gran. I promise I’ll be back soon.”

  Daniel is in the garden when I find him, a bag of dahlia bulbs clutched tightly in one hand. He paces over the grass as if deep in thought.

  “I thought we were going to watch a movie?”

  He stops at the sound of my voice and draws me firmly into his chest. He clasps me so tight it’s difficult to breathe. Every instinct screams to shove him away, but I let him possess me, swaying like a rootless tree in the breeze.

  “I got these for you, Gracie. Dahlia bulbs. I got them especially. Would you like to plant them with me? I know how much you love them and they’ll flower by the end of spring.” He draws back, waggling the bag of bulbs at me.

  Something has changed. Clicked. Switched off. And the menacing Daniel has been replaced by this meek little lamb, soft for love.

  “I’d love to plant them with you, darling.” I hold my breath at the duplicity and can’t meet his eyes.

  Daniel releases me, a grin spreading ear to ear. He settles us both onto the grass in front of the flower bed, which feels both foreign and familiar. My garden, the one I’d tended for the past few years, still
blooming with life as if I’d never left. Yet here I am, months since I’ve seen it.

  He hands me a trowel and a couple of bulbs. “They’re mostly yellow,” he says, by way of explanation. “I did try, but there are a couple of darker ones in there.”

  Given that his interactions until now have been dark and foreboding, I capitalise on the change. Perhaps it’s working and he believes me. Perhaps he believes our love hasn’t changed. That it still remains, even if slightly altered, battered and bruised.

  “I don’t mind, darling. Yellow are my favourite, but the orange are beautiful too.”

  He bestows a contented smile, obviously thrilled. “Well, come on. Get digging.”

  I dig like a robot. Thoughts racing. Heart sprinting. Both waging a battle with one another. Moist soil falls through my fingertips, cascading over the bulbs and giving me time to think. My mind settles into a permanent state of jumbled mess, preferring to sink into oblivion rather than face this. Or him, and Gran, lying drugged on the basement floor. Whatever I do, she must be my primary concern.

  “All done,” he states, proud of his work. “Let’s go inside.”

  Daniel takes my hand, threading large fingers through mine. He gazes down, the love evident in his eyes.

  But what kind of love is it?

  The jealous, possessive, controlling kind.

  The kind that leaves you strangled.

  Gone.

  Dead inside.

  33

  Riley

  “I need to meditate. Leave me be.”

  Gemma and Brady stare at me as if I’m stark raving mad. After all, in the face of losing Grace forever, perhaps I am.

  “Are you for freaking real?” Gem asks, hands planted firmly on her hips, her face the picture of disbelief. “Your girlfriend is missing, and you’re going to meditate?”

  Brady shakes his head, frowning deeply. “Man, get with the program. I’m going to try to track his phone.”

  “What has happened to you, Riles?” Gemma throws the question at me like she doesn’t know me anymore.

  All I do is shrug. The fact we haven’t found her cuts like a bastard. I’m bleeding inside and can’t stay warm. Or intact. Breaking apart into a million tiny pieces with nowhere to turn. I was so sure, so sure, she was in that house. I could feel her. Sense her. Almost hear her. Nothing makes sense. The universe conspires its will against mine, taunting me with its messages of hope, yet failing to prove their validity. And when it all bleeds out, all that’s left will be my empty, stone-cold lifeless heart. And I wonder what I’ve done, to have her taken from me.