He doesn’t love me; he cares about me. Who knew hearing someone cares about you would hurt this much? No matter how painful it is, I have to accept it.
I do my usual routine of straightening the bookshelves and placing a few more book orders before grabbing my bag and closing the library for the night.
As soon as I step outside, a feeling of awareness overcomes me. It isn’t a good feeling. It’s a downright creepy one. I closed down later tonight and when I stepped outside, I decided to walk home because it was such a warm night.
That’s a decision I currently regret. I shake the feeling and start walking to my house. I keep waiting for the sensation to subside, but with each step, it only gets stronger.
As soon as I step off the busy street and start walking in a quiet neighborhood with not half as much lighting, the hair on my arms stands up. My quick walking is just shy of a full sprint.
“You’re paranoid, Caroline. It’s all in your head,” I mumble to myself. No sooner do the words leave my mouth than I hear an engine rev behind me. I’m surprised I hear it over the sound of my racing heart.
I try to convince myself I’m going crazy due to lack of sleep, but when the vehicle fails to pass me, I start to believe it’s not all in my head. I turn my head and look out my peripheral vision to see an old white van slowly creeping behind me.
At this point, I want to scream and run, but I’m trying to remain as calm as possible. I’m only three blocks from my home. If I can just make it to my street, I could relax a little more.
I walk one more block and the van slowly skulks to where it’s no longer a short way behind me, but now right next to me. Fresh, hot tears are starting to burn my eyes, but I beat them back.
I’ve watched hundreds of shows where people find themselves in situations similar to this, and the one thing they always say to do is remain calm. So, instead of completely losing my bloody mind, I reach into my messenger bag and pull out my phone.
My first instinct is to call Phoenix, but I stop myself before I can get his whole number dialed and instead call up Violet.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Violet,” I whisper in a frenzy.
“Caroline? What’s wrong?” I can hear the concern in her voice.
“I’m walking home and this white van is following me. I just need you to talk to me until I can make it home. I’m not far.”
“Honey, are you sure you’re okay? Where are you? I can come get you.” Right as the words leave her mouth, the van picks up speed and zooms past me, disappearing into the night.
I let out a long, relieved breath and place my hand on my chest to steady my pounding heart. “He passed,” I say before giggling to myself. Way to overreact, Caroline.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I obviously overreacted and let my mind get the best of me.” I laugh it off.
We continue to talk for a little while longer, but the whole time I can’t shake the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve heard about this kind of feeling—women’s intuition.
I’ve heard about it, but never experienced it. That’s probably why I chose to ignore it. If only I wouldn’t have. This night would have probably ended differently if I had just agreed to let Violet come get me and take me home or called a cab instead of walking home after work.
There are so many things I should have done differently, but you can’t predict the future. You never know what’s going to happen. No next moment is guaranteed, and in one instant, everything you know can change and everything you have can be ripped away from you.
I’m about to say goodbye to Violet when I hear screeching tires scream in my ears. I jump back when the same van from earlier comes to a shrieking halt on the sidewalk, just barely missing me.
A scream rips from inside me when the side door on the van slides open and a hooded person climbs out. I can hear Violet yelling through the phone, asking me what’s wrong, but I can’t focus on answering her at the moment.
Whoever this person is doesn’t rush me when he jumps out of the van. Instead, he slowly, meticulously stalks toward me. I back up as far as I can, but my back ends up hitting a tree.
“Wh—what do you want?”
I receive no answer. Instead, he remains quiet and slowly tilts his head. He looks like he’s studying my face. I know what he sees. Fear. Paralyzing fear.
In my mind, all I can do is pray that, by some miracle, whatever he’s about to do to me he won’t. He’ll just turn and walk away, but my hopes are shot when I see him lift his arm in the air, a crowbar in his hand.
I can only whisper, “No.”
Then he whacks me and everything goes black.
***
The pounding in my head wakes me. It only takes a moment for me to remember what happened. I begin to panic after I feel the cut on my forehead. I want to cry, but I know this isn’t the time. I’ll break down later, after I get out of this situation.
I need to get out of here and away from these people. The only way that’s going to happen is if I stay level-headed. I sit up slowly, but the room begins to spin and bile climbs up my throat. I’ve never felt pain like this before in my life.
I beat it back and look around. Nothing. I see nothing. I’m lying on the world’s most uncomfortable mattress known to exist. The room is nothing but darkness with not even a window to shed some light. If I squint my eyes, I can make out a white bucket up against the wall with a roll of toilet paper sitting on the floor next to it.
After fighting off another wave of nausea, I slowly stand up and tiptoe across the floor, toward the door. I know it’s locked, but I jiggle the doorknob anyway.
“I don’t understand why we had to take her. They aren’t even together anymore,” says a familiar voice from the other side of the door. Marcy! She did this to me? Why? I knew she was crazy, but not this bloody crazy.
My head throbs and I almost want to convince myself that I’m hearing things. I know that’s not true, though. I know who I heard. Now I need to know who she’s talking to.
“You saw how he’s been without her. It was only a matter of time before he convinced her to come back. This way he won’t have a choice.” I know that man’s voice, but for the life of me, I can’t place it.
What has my panic mounting again is the way his sentence ended—“This way he won’t have a choice.” I know who the stranger is talking about—Phoenix. But what is he going to do to me that would take away his or my choice to be together?
My silent question is answered and it sends a cold chill down my spine. “I just don’t see why we have to kill her.” Kill me? They want to kill me? The tears fall.
With my back against the door, I lift my knees and tuck them into my chest, then bury my face in my lap while soundless sobs wrack my body. It makes my head hurt a million times more, but I can’t stop the sobs.
“Listen, I’ve explained this already. Now isn’t the time to ask questions. We’re doing this. Then we both get what we want. Got it?”
“Fine.” Marcy rushes to agree, and it almost sounds like she has a bit of fear in her voice.
“I don’t know what you have to complain about. You’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted. Phoenix.”
“I know.” She sighs, and I swear I can hear a smile in her voice. It has my anger spiking for the first time since I woke up in this room. Phoenix may not love me, but I love him. There’s no way I will let her have him. He’s going to know just what kind of a snake she is.
“Good. Now, go make sure no one is outside. I want to get this done quickly.”
I hear her heels clicking on the floor as she walks past the door. I know I’m running out of time, and if I have even a hope of getting out of this room I need to formulate some kind of a plan of my own.
I get on my hands and knees and start crawling around on the wood floor, searching for anything to defend myself with. I don’t know who the guy is, so whatever weapon I can find I’ll use on him.
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Marcy, on the other hand? I want to kick her ass. My heart stops when I hear her walk past my door again. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Good. Then let’s get this over with. I’m ready to get rid of this bitch. Go get her.” My hands grow frantic as they search the floor for any kind of object. Nothing. There is absolutely nothing in this room.
I have no choice but to move to plan B. As fast as I can manage, I move behind the door just before she opens it. Before she even has a chance to realize I’m not lying on that bed, I grab the back of the door she just opened and slam it forward, praying the door will connect with her face.
I know it was a successful move when I hear a sick crack before she wails out in pain. “What the fuck?” I jump from behind the door with my fists in front of me, ready for a fight.
If this was any other situation, I would laugh at the state Marcy is in. She’s always looked so together, perfect, and fake when I’ve had the displeasure of seeing her.
She’s covering her nose, but I can still see the blood pouring out. She looks at me and her eyes widen. “You’re crazy!” she screams. Out of everything she’s done to me, everything she’s planning to do to me, she has the nerve to call me crazy?
“I’m crazy? You’re trying to kill me!” Marcy is a mean girl. That was clear the instant I met her. She pauses at my words and thinks them over. Then a sadistic smile spreads across her face.
“I’m not trying to kill you, honey. I am going to kill you.”
I should be scared, right? I can see how hard she believes her words. I can see how determined she is to make those words come true. What I do know, though, is she doesn’t know how determined I am to stop her.
I mask my face to look like I’m nothing but bored with this situation. “You can try.” I shrug. My body tightens when she releases what can only be described as a battle cry before running at me full force.
I don’t have a chance to formulate any kind of defense against her. Before I know it, her hands are around my neck and she’s choking me and pushing me back toward the bed, where I eventually fall.
She hasn’t stopped squeezing my neck. She climbed on top of me just so she can squeeze harder. I claw at her forearms, trying anything to get her to loosen her grip so I can breathe.
Spots dance in my vision. I know I’m running out of time. I’ve heard that right before a person is about to die, their whole life flashes before their eyes. I have flashes, but it’s not my whole life that I see—it’s every moment I ever spent with Phoenix.
I see us at the castle and the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I see the way he watched me sing; how he held me every night in his arms. Even the way he was with Bubbles. It’s when I’m lost in these memories that I realize something I probably knew the whole time. Phoenix doesn’t just care about me. He loves me.
He may not even know it himself or he just may have been lying to me and to himself, but he loves me. I can feel warm tears leak from my eyes at the thought I figured this out too late. I’ll never see him again. I’ll never tell him that I love him while fully awake.
My vision is going in and out, but I fight the unconsciousness. I can’t leave now. I can’t give up. If I can just hold on a little longer, I may find a way out of this.
My chance comes when Marcy leans her head in closer to mine and hisses, “I warned you to stay away from him. He was never going to be yours. Phoenix will always belong to me.”
With her head so close to mine, I do the only thing I can. With all the strength I can muster, I push my head further down into the mattress before cracking my forehead as hard and as fast as I can into Marcy’s.
It works. It stuns and hurts her enough so she finally releases my neck and jumps off the bed. I gasp and pull as big a breath as I can into my lungs. Now it feels like my lungs are on fire.
She bounces back faster than I do and she’s madder than before. “You’re going to pay for that!”
Her heels come toward me once again. I’m still having trouble breathing, but I have to gather as much strength as possible if I want a chance to get out of here.
Before she can grab on to me again, I sit up quickly and punch her in the face. She stumbles back and cries louder when more blood pours from her lip and nose.
Now that she isn’t paying attention to me, I jump to my feet and hit her again. I wrap my hands around her neck. I don’t choke her as tight as she choked me. I don’t want her to die. That would be too easy. I want to expose her as the piece of shit human being she is, and I want to see her spend the rest of her life behind bars.
I walk her back until she’s pinned against the wall. “It’s over, Marcy,” I say, but I spoke too soon.
Not two minutes later, I hear the second voice say, “What the fuck is going on here?”
Before I can let her go and turn around to finally reveal the identity of the man who wants me dead, I’m struck in the back of the head and the darkness sweeps me under once again.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
He Has To Be A Dream
If I thought I hurt my head before, it’s nothing compared to the agony vibrating through my skull now when I wake the second time since being taken.
Just like last time, I want to move my hands to the back of my head, but this time I can’t. It takes my mind a few seconds to fight through the pain and realize why. My hands are tied above my head and I’m suspended from an old barn ceiling. Like my hands, my feet are tied, but they’re anchored to the ground.
“I can’t believe you almost let her get away,” the male voice growls.
“She’s a fucking librarian. How was I supposed to know she could fight like that?”
“She shouldn’t have had the chance to fight, you idiot. The instructions were for you to go get her. We both would have been screwed if she had gotten away.”
“I’m not an idiot. You think I don’t know what would happen? I do, which is why I didn’t want to even do this in the first place. This was your idea so you could continue getting your precious money.”
“You may have not wanted to do it, but you’re fucking here now, sweetheart, and if you think you’re leaving now, I’ll put you in the grave right next to that bitch.”
Marcy is silent after that ominous threat, and I can’t blame her. It’s clear from the tone of his voice that he’s serious about what he said.
I look around the cold, dark barn, but I can’t see where they are just yet. My last hope is to get free from these ropes before they come back in and run. I believe I was in a house before, but if I could get out of this barn, I could run into the night and hopefully hide until I have a chance to go find help.
As soon as I start pulling on the ropes, though, I run out of time. “Well, look who’s awake, Marcy—your best friend.” I look up from the ropes tied around my ankle and finally come face to face with the man who wants to end me.
Mick?
I understand Marcy’s reasoning for wanting me dead. It’s bloody insane, but I understand it. For the life of me, though, I can’t figure out why Phoenix’s manager would want me dead. He stands in front of me.
“Why?”
“It’s nothing personal, honey.” He laughs. “You were a distraction for Phoenix, one I couldn’t afford. And, well,” he pauses to look back at Marcy, who’s standing off to the side, staring at us. I’ve noticed her sadistic smile is gone. Now she just looks…unsure. “You know why she’s here.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve never done anything to you,” I yell, but I regret it because the pain in my head makes its presence known once again. I can’t help it. I was determined before, but now I’m just angry. I’m about to lose my life at the hands of these crazy people and I have no idea why.
“You know it wouldn’t have come this far if you had just listened to the letter. You had your chance to leave, but you continued to be ignorant and ignore all the warnings and all the chances I gave you. Well, I’m sorry. I’ve been Phoenix’
s manager from day one, his money is my money, and I would sooner die than let you take that away from me.”
It comes as no surprise to me that he was the one to give me that letter. What I don’t comprehend is why he thinks I would want to take Phoenix’s money.
“I don’t want his money. I’ve never wanted his money. I’ve only wanted him. You don’t have to do this,” I plead.
I close my mouth as soon as Mick looks me in the eyes and smiles. I briefly close my eyes when he pulls out a handgun from the back of his jeans. “Like I said, it’s nothing personal, but you are a distraction. Since you entered his life, he doesn’t want to do shows, he doesn’t want to make as many appearances. All of his time is taken with you. Time is money, and I’m losing it. I’ve worked too hard for that.”
Any hope I had is gone. It doesn’t matter what I say. These two came here with one thing to accomplish and they aren’t leaving this barn until I’m dead. So, with nothing else to do, I speak the truth.
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me. Phoenix hasn’t wanted to do shows because he doesn’t want to. It has nothing to do with me. People like you and her,” I look at Marcy, “use him and make him feel like he’s worth only the amount of money he makes.” Marcy turns away from me like she can’t stand to hear the truth.
I look back at Mick and finish what I am saying. “So go ahead and kill me. It won’t change anything. Phoenix is still going to be sick of that lifestyle, and one day he’ll see you for who you really are.”
My words trigger anger in him. His whole relaxed, blasé attitude flies out the window the moment I finish speaking. I wait for his response, but he doesn’t give one. His face just gets redder and redder and I can only assume my words are replaying in his mind.
Love, Unwanted (Discovering Love #3) Page 15