Cole (Hunting Her)

by Eden Summers

  “I’m here,” she speaks up, repositioning herself in her seat with a wince. “I’m okay. But Penny’s gone.”

  He releases a long breath. “Thank fuck you’re okay. I’ve been calling—”

  “I tried calling you, too. I left a message.” She sits taller. “Listen, we were hit by a truck. I got knocked out, but when I came to she was gone.”

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine. But Penny isn’t.”

  “She’s here. Well, she was. Decker just drove her and Luca to the hospital.”

  “What happened?” I press my foot harder, speeding along the street.

  “I’ve got no idea. I can’t figure out the mess. Even the guards at your gate are clueless. All I’ve got is a damn war zone in your neighbor’s house with nobody here to tell the tale.”

  “And Benji,” I snarl the name. “Where is he?”

  “He’s with me, helping start the clean-up. I told him to call Keira and Layla. They’re going to spend the night in a hotel, but they want the kids out of your house asap.”

  “I’ll get them. I’m on my way now. Find out what hotel they’re at and text it to me.”

  “Will do. And Cole…” There’s a pause. “Our problem has been taken care of.”

  Our problem—Robert.

  Sarah glances at me, her bruised face relaxing.

  “Entirely?” I turn the nearest corner, easing my foot off the gas.

  “Yeah. Entirely. It’s only a matter of getting him off the grid.”

  I shoot Sarah a grin as she exhales in relief. “Good work.”

  I disconnect the call, my night finally seeming to change for the better. At least momentarily. I still need to make an example of Benji. There’s no way around it.

  I’ve given too many free passes for betrayal lately. I can’t do it again.

  I’ll punish him in a way that ensures everyone knows I’m not to be fucked with. And I’ll make sure Layla knows she’s to blame.

  I pull onto my street, my attention narrowing on Decker’s car parked in front of my neighbor’s house, Benji’s car positioned directly opposite.

  I slow, a skitter of foreboding crawling down my neck at the sight of Mavis’ house illuminating the early morning darkness. I hope the old girl survived whatever went on in there. Then again, it might be better if she didn’t. She’d never feel safe again. Not all alone in that big house.

  “What do you think happened?” Sarah asks.

  “I don’t know. We’ll get the details soon enough.” I grind my teeth through the mental onslaught of possibilities. That fucker came too close. Way too fucking close. “Once I grab the kids and drop them off to my sisters, I’ll call the doc and make sure you’re checked over.”

  “I’m fine. It’s a few bruises. That’s all.”

  “You’re seeing the doctor. It’s not up for discussion.” I continue driving to my front gates, opening the thick metal barrier with a click of a remote, and stop beside the waiting guard.

  He keeps a hand over his side piece as I lower my window, his gaze stalking our surroundings while he leans down to eye level.

  “What happened?” I growl.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. We heard an explosion. Our guys on the perimeter thought there were gunshots, too. Silenced, though. But nothing crossed the fence. No bullets. No threat. Nothing.”

  “You didn’t send someone next door to check it out?”

  “No, sir. It was our job to maintain the safety of your property and the residents inside. My men did their boundary checks every ten to fifteen minutes as scheduled. Then kept a closer eye on your neighbor after the disturbance. But we never left our post.”

  I don’t know whether to be proud or infuriated.

  “Make sure nobody disturbs my men.” I tilt my chin toward Mavis’ house. “I don’t want anything coming within a foot of the front yard. No cops. No visitors. Not even a fucking squirrel. You hear me?”

  “I hear you.” He straightens, retreating from the Porsche. “I’ll let you know if we have any issues.”

  I raise my window and drive through the gates, continuing around the back of the house, passing two more armed guards in the shadows before parking in the garage.

  Sarah doesn’t say a word. She stares straight ahead even after I kill the engine.

  “What’s on your mind?” I unfasten my belt and release the steering wheel.

  “He took her,” she whispers. “Robert took Penny.”

  “Yeah, he did. But he’s dead now.”

  “And what about her?” She shoots me a glance. “What happened between the time she left me and the moment that rapist died? What did he do to her?”

  “Whatever happened couldn’t be worse than the life she had in Greece.” It’s a pathetic comparison. But it’s the truth. “She survived living with my father. She can survive this, too.”

  “I was meant to be looking after her.” Her voice wavers. “It was my job to keep her safe.”

  “It was also the job of the guard you had following you. We should all be thankful your fate, along with Penny’s, wasn’t the same as his.”

  She shifts her focus back out the windshield to the darkened garage. “That’s not comforting.”

  “Well, it should be.” I shove from the car, waiting as she slowly unfastens her belt, her movements more stiff than earlier. “Stay here. I’ll organize the kids.”

  “No.” She opens her door, cautiously climbing out. “I’ll get Tobias. You can handle Stella. That little girl is the devil when woken from her beauty sleep.”

  She isn’t wrong. My niece—although, the most beautiful princess I’ve laid eyes on—can be Satan when the mood strikes. It’s an unfortunate trait she gained from her mother.

  I lead the way into the house, along the darkened hall, the light from the kitchen the only glow to highlight the closed bedrooms. I pass the nanny’s door to gently ease open Stella’s, then creep inside, walking from memory because the room is too dark to see shit.

  I don’t stop until my shins hit the unforgiving hardness of the side of the bed.

  Fuck.

  I kneel with a snarl, placing my hands on the mattress. “Stella, sweetheart. You need to get up.”

  There’s no response. Not even a shift in the silence around me.

  “Stella?” I reach out, swiping my palm over the bed. My fingers glide over vacant sheets. “Sweetheart?”

  I can’t hear her breathing.

  I can’t hear a damn thing.

  “Stella?” I scramble for the door. Flick on the light. Expose a completely empty room.

  There’s no sign of my niece.

  “Sarah.” I storm for the hall, into Tobias’ doorway, and flick on the light. She stands before another empty bed, the fear in her features mimicking the sensation pummeling my chest.

  “Are they having some sort of camp-out in another room?” She rushes toward me. “Could they have heard the explosion and gotten scared? Maybe they’re with the nanny.”

  I send out a silent prayer. I mentally beg the fucking heavens for her to be right as I run down the hall, swinging the nanny’s door wide.

  “Tanya.” I flick on the light and everything drains from me—thought, comprehension, knowledge.

  The girl, barely in her mid-twenties, lays strewn on the carpet, face-up, a hypodermic syringe hanging from her arm. Vomit is pooled on the floor near her mouth. Urine permeates the air. And those eyes. Those vacant, unblinking eyes.

  “Oh, Christ.” Sarah shoves past me and falls to her knees beside the woman to place a gentle hand to her cheek. “She’s stone cold.”

  6

  Cole

  I search the house, scouring every room, calling Tobias and Stella’s names with every breath.

  I hope they’re in hiding. That they heard someone messing with Tanya and made the smart decision to flee.

  “They’re not here.” Sarah catches up to me in the kitchen, her face pale as she holds up a dirty cloth. “B
ut I found this under Stella’s bed.”

  “What is it?” I approach.

  “It’s doused in chemicals. My guess is chloroform. Someone took them.”

  I run a hand down my face, attempting to compartmentalize this goddamn situation. “That means they’re not dead. Whoever did this wouldn’t go to the effort of sedating them if they were going to kill them.”

  She cringes. “Maybe. But chloroform isn’t a great sign either. It’s highly toxic. Inhaling too much could easily kill a child.”

  The hits keep coming, one after another, the horror compiling.

  Anyone accountable won’t survive. They won’t want to after I start reaping my revenge.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asks. “I can go get Layla and Keira if you want. It’s better to tell them face-to-face.”

  “No. I need you to organize a clean-up crew.” I hand over my cell. “Don’t tell anyone what’s happened until I say. Okay?”

  “Okay. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find those kids.”

  I stride across the living room and continue through the house to the front door, my ears flooded with the choking beat of rage and fucking fear.

  I don’t stop until I’m at the front gate, yelling at the guard to let me out.

  As soon as I can slip through the opening metal, I stalk for the motherfucker who was meant to be in charge. I grasp his throat in seconds. Slam my fist into his face.

  “Where are they?” I pummel him again. “What the fuck happened to them?”

  He stumbles as I hold tight to his neck, blood seeping from a cut on his lip.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” He claws at my wrist, shoves at my chest. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

  I cling tighter, his heartbeat frantic under my fingertips. “Someone has been in my house. The nanny is dead. The kids are missing.”

  He quits fighting. His face falls. “Nobody has come through these gates except you. I vow it on my life. I’ve been here the whole time.”

  “Then whoever is responsible didn’t use the fucking gates.” I release my hold, shoving him backward. “Call your team and have them properly check the perimeter. Until the culprit is found, this is on your shoulders.”

  I turn on my heels to run some more, this time to Mavis’ house. I slam my fist against the front door. Again and again. Over and over. The outlet doesn’t lessen the effects of overwhelming adrenaline.

  I’m suffocating here. Drowning in my own mistakes.

  “I’m coming,” Hunt yells from inside. “Hold on.”

  I keep knocking until the door flings open.

  “What the fuck?” Hunter’s hard scowl stares back at me. “Are you trying to wake the whole goddamn neighborhood?”

  “Have you seen the kids?” I shove past him, the acrid scent of bleach burning my nostrils.

  “No. Why?”

  I make for one of the curved staircases bordering both walls in the entry and jump the steps three at a time.

  I switch on every light.

  Open every door.

  Search every fucking room.

  When the entire floor turns up empty, I hustle back downstairs finding Hunter still waiting for me in the entry, eyeing me with trepidation.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I stop before him, not wanting to break the news when I’m sure this has to be a fucking nightmare I’ll soon wake from.

  “Tell me and I’ll sort it out.”

  This isn’t something he can fix for me. Not this time. No matter how much I’d give to have this all be over.

  “It’s Stella and Tobias.” I lower my voice, unsure of Benji’s location. “They’re gone. There’s no sign of them.”

  He frowns. “Did the nanny take them somewhere?”

  “She’s stone-cold, wide-eyed on the bedroom floor, a needle still in her arm.”

  “Holy shit.” He stands motionless. “What about Sarah? Where is she?”

  “She’s beat up and needs to see a doctor. But right now she’s busy making arrangements to get rid of the body.”

  “Fucking hell.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “Tell me what you need me to do. Where do we start? What did the guards say?”

  “The guards don’t know a damn thing. And neither do I. If Robert is dead, where does it leave the damn kids?”

  “He had a man working with him. Young guy. California ID His dead ass is still upstairs. If we follow the trail, he might lead us to someone else.”

  Footsteps approach from along the hall, and I turn my gaze to find Benji walking toward us with a bloody rag in his hands.

  “What’s going on?” He glances between us. “Did something else happen?”

  I don’t have to tell him a damn thing. After his betrayal, I’m not obligated to breathe a fucking word. But this is his daughter. His little girl.

  “It’s okay.” Hunt clears his throat. “Whatever happened, we’ll ahh… we’ll sort it out. We always do.”

  “Sort what out?” Benji asks. “What’s the problem?”

  I stare at him. The traitor. The snitch.

  Earlier, I wanted him dead.

  Now, I’m loath to inflict this punishment on him. The news of Stella’s disappearance will be a far more painful torture than anything I could inflict.

  “Benji—” I clench my fists, struggling to straddle the line between brother-in-law and betrayee.

  “What?” He frowns. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Stella.” I shake my head, attempting to dislodge the overwhelming horror. The things that could be happening to her… the things that might happen in the future… “She’s missing.”

  He jerks back. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s gone. She’s not in the house. There was—”

  He storms forward, walking around me, heading for the front door.

  “Where are you going?” Hunter grabs his arm, pulling him to a stop.

  “To Torian’s house to show him Stella’s fine.” He yanks his arm free. “She’d be sleeping in a different room. She bed-hops all the time.”

  “She’s not there.” I remain in place as Hunt moves to the door, blocking the exit. “Sarah and I checked. The guards are searching the yard.”

  Benji’s frown deepens. “She’s there.” He shakes his head, denying the dire possibilities. “Where would she go?”

  I hold his stare, my jaw tight, my focus lethal. The beats of silence are painfully informative.

  He shakes his head harder as Hunter’s expression contorts in discomfort.

  “No.” Benji backtracks, moving closer to the door. “She’d be asleep somewhere. Hiding. It’s probably a big joke to her.”

  “It’s no joke. She was taken.”

  “No.” The rampant back and forth of his head is aggressive. “No.” He turns, storming for the door.

  Hunter blocks his escape. The two grapple.

  “Benji, you’re not leaving.” I keep my voice level. “We don’t have time to waste. Tobias is gone, too. The nanny is dead.”

  A sound escapes him. A guttural cry more animalistic than human.

  He quits fighting and stumbles backward, his face draining of color. “No.”

  “I believe the kids are still alive. There’s evidence they were sedated. But who knows how long that will last.”

  His chest rises and falls in rapid succession. “Why?” he pleads. “Why would anyone…”

  “You tell me.” I fight a glare as he hunches over, retching. He was the one speaking to a sex trafficker behind my back. He was the man who betrayed me to a man capable of something as vile as this. “You need to share every single thing you told Robert. And you need to do it now. Because if I don’t find those kids, living with the loss of your daughter is going to be the least of your problems.”

  7

  Anissa

  I remain at the scene, Cole’s lingering fury and rejection making it near impossible
to leave. If I go home, I’ll only work myself into a mental frenzy, questioning my thoughts, my past, my future.

  I’ll eat my weight in feelings and this body has seen one too many tubs of ice cream lately to justify the additional calories.

  So I stay, steering clear of the cops, taking discreet photos from behind their plastic tape barrier, speaking to witnesses who continue to hang around despite the early morning hour.

  “Did you see what happened?” I smile at the young blonde cradling a cell in her hands. She looks on edge. Fidgety. Maybe agitated, as her suspicious eyes meet mine.

  “It’s okay. I’m FBI.” I flash her my badge. “You can talk to me. Did you see what happened?”

  “I saw the whole thing. And I tried explaining what happened to one of the officers, but he told me to stay here and wait. I even recorded the whole thing on my phone.” She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m just so tired. I’ve got three jobs and I need to be up in a few hours to start my next shift.”

  “I understand.” I step closer. “Why don’t you give me a look? I can take your statement.”

  “Thank you.” She focuses on her cell, pressing buttons until a video starts to play. “This is what happened.”

  The recording is jolted, as if she were running along the sidewalk toward Luca’s Suburban which has already been hit in the middle of the intersection. Horns blare. Onlookers speak in the distance. Then there’s the unmistakable pop, pop, pop of gunfire.

  People scream.

  The vision lowers, the cracked cement footpath the only sight as a female swears.

  “I was hiding,” she explains. “Once I heard the gunshots, I dove behind a car parked on the side of the street. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  I nod, my attention glued to the screen.

  The camera is raised over the hood of a red truck. Luca’s car comes back into focus. I hold my breath as Robert stalks into view, his stride long, his confidence remarkable. He shoots toward something off-screen, making onlookers scream.

  “That’s when he shot the man in the car behind the Suburban,” the woman says. “Shot him dead. Just like that.” She clicks her fingers. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”