by Blythe, Jane
Malachi’s room looked undisturbed. No clothes appeared to be missing from the closet or the dresser. A laptop remained on the small desk by a window, and the alphabetically arranged bookcase didn’t have any gaps.
They moved onto the third floor. There were two bedrooms—Maegan and Eliza’s. Both were simple and unadorned, and neither expressed the personality of its occupant. Once again, there were no signs of Malachi.
Starting to wonder whether Malachi had already come and gone, Jack was getting frustrated. Someone like Malachi would never stop. They had taken his girls from him; he would want to replace them. If he couldn’t do it here in this home, he would simply find another house and more girls and continue to attempt to recreate the family he had lost.
They needed to stop him.
Jack glanced at Ryan. “Basement?” he asked.
Ryan nodded. “I saw a door in the kitchen that looked like it would lead to a basement.”
Still moving carefully, it was plausible Malachi had squirreled himself away in some secret place they hadn’t been able to find, they headed for the basement.
The large space was mostly empty. There were a few tools on one wall and a couple of boxes in one corner and a door in the far corner. Together they crossed to the door. Ryan covered him as he put a hand on the knob and turned. Jack pushed the door open to reveal a small room, the walls of which had been painted black.
“He put Eliza in here,” Jack said to Ryan, his eyes roving the room. He was positive he was right and pictured a terrified Eliza trapped in here, probably for days or even weeks on end.
“It’s how he brainwashed her,” Ryan agreed.
“We should call Xavier and tell him. He might be able to use that with Eliza to get her to open up.” He pulled out his phone, ready to call his partner.
“I saw an office upstairs; we can go through that. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something that will lead us to where Malachi went—he’s obviously not here.” Ryan was already heading for the stairs.
Jack followed, dialing Xavier’s number, and hoping that they located Malachi quickly because he had a bad feeling that if Malachi wasn't stopped soon, a lot more lives were going to be destroyed. As he waited for Xavier to answer, he said a little silent prayer of thanks that all his family and friends were safe and sound.
* * * * *
1:11 A.M.
“You came back,” Eliza’s pale face relaxed when she saw him.
“Of course, I did. I said I would,” Xavier admonished gently as he came and resumed his seat beside her bed.
Eliza had been crying in his arms when Paige had called him to say she was being followed. He had immediately eased the sobbing girl back against the pillows, told her he had to attend to an emergency and assured her he’d be back shortly, then hurried after Paige. He hadn’t wanted to leave Eliza alone in that condition, but he also couldn’t leave Paige alone and unprotected if the stalker was back.
He had run through the hospital’s halls, ignoring the odd looks from nurses, wanting to get to Paige as quickly as possible before the stalker had a chance to make another attempt on her life. Thankfully, he’d found her safe and sound with the little girls Malachi had kidnapped.
Wanting to get all four of them back down to the relative safety of the busy emergency room, he had hustled them quickly through the corridors, constantly scanning all around them for any potential threats. Once they’d arrived in the ER, he had put them in the small office they’d been using. While he wanted to keep Paige in his sight, he had to get back to Eliza, so he had called in one of the officers who was outside at the shooting scene and asked him to stand guard at the office door, not allowing entrance to anyone.
With Paige at least temporarily safe, he focused on Eliza. They would find Malachi, and then they’d pull out all the stops and find the stalker so Paige would stay safe.
“I was scared,” Eliza whispered. Her blue eyes seemed too big for her thin face.
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore, Eliza,” he promised.
“Stop calling me that; it’s not my name,” she said, but the conviction had gone from her voice.
He was making progress with her. When he’d been talking to her earlier, reminding her of her abduction and about how Malachi had brainwashed her, she’d been having flashbacks, he was sure of it. She just needed a little bit more of a push.
“Eliza, you're starting to remember, you know that everything I've said is true. Malachi is not your father, he kidnapped you and three other girls. Maegan, Bethany, and Hayley. We contacted their families, they can go home, your family is coming to get you, too. You're going home.”
“Home?” she repeated, looking conflicted.
“Not Malachi’s house, you never have to go back there, you get to go back to your real home. Your family loves you so much, they missed you.”
“Family?” her brow scrunched in concentration. Then she studied him. “You remind me of someone, but I can't remember who.”
Before he could push her to try and remember who, his phone buzzed. For a moment, he thought it was going to be Paige telling him the stalker was back, but his partner’s name was flashing on the screen. “Jack, what’s up?”
“Ryan and I are at the house. There’s a room in the basement painted all in black, and I think that’s where Malachi put Eliza to break her down so he could brainwash her. We also found bottles and bottles of sleeping pills in the bathroom cabinet. He’s probably been feeding them to her daily to keep her under control.”
“Okay, thanks.” Xavier hoped he could use the additional information to get Eliza to open up. “Any sign of Malachi?”
“Looks like he’s been here at some point, but he’s not here now. Any more issues with Paige?”
“No. I’ve got an officer on her, and I’ll check in with her again soon,” he replied.
“Okay, good luck with Eliza.”
“I'm going to need it. Talk to you later.”
Once he hung up, he turned back to Eliza, who had been watching him closely during his phone call. “Who was that?” she asked.
“That was my partner, he’s at Malachi’s house. Eliza, he found the room in the basement.” He paused to gauge her reaction. If he hadn’t been looking for it, he wouldn’t have seen her near imperceptible shudder. “Did he lock you in there, Eliza?” he asked gently.
She shook her head, but her eyes filled with tears.
“Was it dark in there? Did he feed you?” Going with a hunch, he asked, “Did he take your clothes?”
Eliza clutched at the blankets and pulled them tighter around herself.
“How long did he keep you in there, Eliza?”
“A long time.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and he noted that she was no longer contesting the fact that her name was Eliza.
“It was dark in there.” He made it a statement not a question.
Eliza nodded.
“And you were cold because you didn’t have your clothes,” he continued.
Another nod.
“Did he make you beg him for water and light and food?”
“I wouldn’t the first time,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes closed.
Malachi had needed to break Eliza, so he had taken everything away: sight, sound, food, water, clothing. He had deprived her of everything then made himself her only way to get those things thus making her utterly dependent on him. Her environment would have made her weak, disoriented, vulnerable, and completely susceptible to Malachi’s manipulations.
Bit by bit he was getting through to her. She had all but admitted the abduction and that she was really Eliza Donnan and not Malachi’s daughter, Ariyel. Xavier was fighting his instincts to push her hard because he didn’t think she was emotionally stable enough to handle it. But time was not on their side. In order to keep Eliza and the other girls safe, they needed Malachi caught.
“Eliza.” Xavier waited until she opened her haunted eyes to look at him. “You were so strong. Malachi had to
fight so hard to try and squash you, but he didn’t. You're here; you're alive; you're safe. But Malachi is still out there. And he could do this again. You were the oldest; you might have seen or heard things Maegan missed. I need your help to find Malachi, so he can never hurt anyone else.”
Her face had grown progressively paler as he spoke, now a completely unnatural shade of grey, and Xavier was relieved she was lying down; otherwise, he feared she would have collapsed. “He’s still out there?”
“Yes, but we’ll find him,” he assured her.
She shook her head violently. “He’ll come back!” she wailed.
“No, Eliza, he will never hurt you again. I promise.”
“No. Ariyel. I'm Ariyel. Malachi is my father,” she said desperately.
As quickly as he’d been making progress with her, it all fell away, and now he was right back where he’d started with her complete denials of everything. Xavier wondered whether Laura, with her degrees in psychology and experience with trauma victims, might have better luck with Eliza.
Reaching out and grasping her hands, he expected her to wrench them free, but instead her thin fingers latched onto his, clinging as if her life depended on it. “Eliza, I know you're scared. I know what you’ve been through is horrendous, and I know how overwhelming this must all be for you, but I am promising you right here and now that I will keep you safe. Okay?”
Again, he expected her to recoil, to express the facts that she had no reason to believe that he could keep her safe, but instead she nodded slowly. “You remind me of George,” she whispered.
“Who’s George?” he asked.
Tugging free one hand, she traced her fingertips down his cheek. “I think … I think … I think he was my boyfriend.”
“Xavier?”
* * * * *
1:22 A.M.
“Xavier?”
He turned to face her, but the young woman in the bed didn’t seem to notice her presence. She was staring in wide-eyed adoration at Xavier.
“Annabelle.” Xavier seemed surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied, although what she wanted to do now was find out who the woman in the bed was. Annabelle recognized the look on the woman’s face when she looked at Xavier, because it was the same way she had looked at Xavier when she was lying in a hospital bed scared, traumatized, and alone.
Xavier arched an eyebrow. “I'm a little busy right now.”
His rejection hurt, but Annabelle reminded herself that he was entitled to be frustrated with her. After all, she had moved out of their house. “Please. It won't take long.”
He stared at her so long that she thought he was going to refuse, but then he nodded. “Fine.” Turning to the woman in the bed, Xavier said, “I’ll be right back. I'm just going to be outside the door. Are you going to be okay?”
The woman gave a shaky nod.
Squeezing her hand, Xavier gave the woman a final smile, then stood and stalked out of the room. Annabelle followed, feeling a stab of jealousy toward the woman.
Apparently in no hurry to talk to her, Xavier went straight through the ER, stopping to talk to an officer standing outside one of the offices. “Any signs of him?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Okay, let me know if anything happens.”
Xavier looked concerned as he slowly made his way to a relatively quiet corner of the waiting room. “What’s wrong?” Annabelle asked as she trailed after him.
“The stalker tried to kill Paige tonight, then he was following her. I've got her tucked away in there with an officer watching her, but I'm still worried about her. The stress of having him still out there is getting to her.”
Annabelle knew exactly how Paige felt. Ricky Preston had been on the run for close to a year before he finally made his move. “Is she okay?”
“Minor injuries from when Ryan tackled her out of the way of the car. Other than that, she’s just shaken up.” His eyes were cold and distant as he looked at her. “What do you want, Annabelle?”
“You're calling me Annabelle again,” she noted. He only ever did that when he was annoyed with her.
Xavier simply shrugged. “What’s up?”
Shoving away her own frustrations, again she had to remind herself that Xavier had a right to be annoyed with her. “Just because I'm moving out doesn’t mean I want us to break up,” she said.
“You came all the way down here to tell me that while I'm working?”
“Earlier at the house, I tried to explain why I'm moving out, but you don’t understand. I just wanted to try and explain again. I just need some time—”
“I've given you time, Annabelle,” Xavier interrupted. “I've been patient; I've been supportive; I've been there for you every step of the way. I've given you time, but I don’t know that I can wait for you forever.”
She staggered back as though he’d slapped her.
She thought Xavier loved her. That he would never leave her. That he would wait for her forever.
Which, logically, she had to admit was unfair.
“Don’t look at me like that, Annabelle. You're the one who keeps pushing me away, not the other way around.”
That was true, and yet it still felt so unfair.
Unfair mainly because it made her feel bad.
She had pushed Xavier away, but she didn’t know why she kept doing it. Even now, looking at the man she loved, Annabelle knew that all she needed to say was that she was sorry and that she wasn’t moving out. Then he would take her in his arms, hold her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her, and they could go home—together.
“I love you, Annabelle,” he continued. “I just don’t know if I can be in a relationship with someone who isn’t all that committed to it.”
She frowned. “That’s not fair. I love you, too, and I am committed to our relationship.”
He raised a disbelieving brow. “We’ve been together for five years now. I've proposed to you twice; both times you turned me down. I've given you time. I've done everything I can think of to help you, but I want a family. I want a wife and kids. And if you don’t, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
“You're giving up on me.” She could hardly believe it was true. “You promised me you never would, but you have.”
He shook his head. “I've never given up on you. It’s you. You’ve given up on yourself.”
Was that true?
Had she given up on herself?
Was that why she kept pushing Xavier away?
He had done so much for her. Even little things. Like he knew how self-conscious she was about her unusually pale eyes, so he had stopped wearing the hazel contact lens over his green eye, so that everyone who looked at him could tell he had heterochromia.
She had never believed that she deserved to be loved. Her parents had stopped loving her after something had happened to her when she was four. She didn’t clearly remember what it was. Just flashes of images and sounds. But whatever it was had to be bad if her own parents had stopped loving her afterward.
Xavier had broken through that barrier. He had somehow managed to convince her that he loved her. That as long as he was around, she wasn't alone.
And yet, one part of her brain remained stubborn. Refusing to accept it. Needing him to prove over and over again that he wasn't going anywhere.
“Take your time moving out the last of your things; I won't be staying at my house for a while.” Xavier announced. “With the stalker upping the ante with Paige, we don’t want her alone and unprotected, so I'm going to be moving in with her and Elias for a while, until we catch him.”
She felt a sudden stab of jealousy toward Paige. Her friends would and were doing whatever necessary to protect her. And not just physically. Xavier, Jack, Ryan, Laura, and Sofia would all be doing their best to lift her spirits and make sure she didn’t become depressed or paranoid. Annabelle knew that if she let them they would do the same for her, but she never let
them.
“The ball is in your court, Annabelle.” Xavier watched her closely, tensely, to see what her reaction would be.
And of course, ever the coward, she said nothing. She didn’t know how to express to Xavier everything that was going on inside her right now.
He sighed. “I have to go back to Eliza.” He turned, took a few steps, and then paused. “You have to decide what you want—constantly jerking me around isn’t fair to me. You know what I want.”
“Do I?” Her emotions were bubbling too close to the surface to hold them back. Before they burst out, she fled. Not stopping until she was outside, she took huge gulps of the cold night air as she struggled for control.
Annabelle half expected Xavier to come walking out behind her, gather her up in his arms and promise her that they could work things out. That he was still right there beside her, ready and willing to help her however he could.
But he didn’t come.
She wanted him to, she realized.
Needed him to, even.
Needed him to follow her just one more time to prove to her that he really loved her and would never leave her.
* * * * *
1:25 A.M.
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything helpful,” Ryan announced, sitting back in the chair at the desk in Malachi’s office and stretching.
They'd been going through Malachi’s paperwork, trying to find anything that might hint to where he’d flee. They hadn’t found anything. Well, basically nothing. There were a few old bills from several years ago and a couple of bank statements—again, several years old.
At least they now knew that Malachi’s full name was Malachi Rivers. With that information, they would be able to do a complete background search on him, including finding out about the fire that killed his daughters.