Back to You

by Claudia Burgoa

  I didn’t fucking hire him. Maybe I should’ve and then he’d be more helpful.

  “Look, I’m in town. We had a breakthrough. My team and the equipment arrived this afternoon. We have been working around the clock.”

  “Then, how the fuck did you let this happen?” I bang my hand against the wheel.

  Closing my eyes, I summon a deep breath, holding it in. Turning my head a fraction, I look blindly skyward praying for a miracle and the strength to get me through this.

  “We got Corbin. He’s in custody. The son wasn’t with him as I had hoped. He’s off the grid. A ghost. We know he exists, but he’s been hiding for years. His father destroyed his records when he was eleven and the mother died. Our best bet is hacking Corbin’s phone to locate him. Which I’m working on as we speak.”

  I understand what he’s saying. Some parents keep their children hidden for years or decades while they use them—or torture them. There’s no record of me before the police raided the house where I lived. God knows where I’d be if the police hadn’t found me and gotten me into the hands of the Aherns.

  Thinking of my past sparks an idea. “What if he took Abby to their old house?”

  “That’s a possibility, but please, don’t do anything stupid,” he roars. It’s an order, a warning. “I’ll call you in a few minutes.”

  My heart is about to explode as the anxiety increases. If only I knew where to go … it has to be the house in Thornton.

  Once the line goes dead, I go back to Abby’s call. There’s nothing on the other side. It’s scarily quiet.

  “What happened?” Sterling asks, jogging toward me.

  I begin to tell him what I know. With every word he turns paler and his body trembles. My phone rings. Unknown number.

  “Yeah?” I exhale, grasping the phone as if it’s my lifeline.

  “My team is ready to go. We’re thirty minutes south of downtown and about forty-five from her.”

  I calculate the timing, and if I’m right, she’s in her old house. They’re close, but not close enough. My head throbs. This can’t be happening. There’s a loud rushing in my ears and my limbs have gone numb. She doesn’t deserve to suffer. Fuck. She already went through so much shit. We should’ve stayed in Tahoe for a month but I … I’ve got to stop thinking about what I could’ve done to prevent this.

  “She could be dead by then.” I suck in a breath, purse my lips hard, and get back in the car.

  When I turn on the engine, the Bluetooth picks up the call with Abby. My stomach drops when I hear them.

  “I thought you liked it when I begged,” Abby’s voice is forceful, even courageous.

  “Shut up!” I freeze when I hear a punch. I draw in a long breath, my heart beats fast, and nausea hits the back of my throat.

  “I’ll break every bone in your body. When I’m done with you, your boyfriend won’t recognize you. No one will claim you.”

  “You’ll beg for your life,” the asshole continues. I cry in helplessness gripping the phone. “For mercy. But not until I say so. Dad has to be here. He wants to finish what he started. In the meantime, I can do whatever I want.”

  Tears stream down my face when I hear her whimper in pain.

  “Let’s play five little piggies. This little piggy went to market.” he chants.

  There’s a loud bang, and I hear her muffled cries.

  “Where you’re going, you won’t need that finger,” he laughs. “You’re paying for fucking with my life, for killing my sister.”

  “This little piggy stayed home,” he chants, and she screams. “Wait, I got that wrong. But don’t worry, we have eight more fingers, ten toes and then I’ll move on to your legs … maybe even your face.”

  “In case you’re wondering, Peyton is at home. Across the street waiting for me. She’s my girl and works for me. Her job is to meet people. Clients or children for my clients. She’s good at networking and led me to you.”

  Sterling disconnects the Bluetooth. “We’ll keep her connected, but you can’t be listening to it.”

  “He’s hitting her, Sterling, and I can’t do anything.”

  I’m powerless.

  Useless.

  God, please let them find her in time.

  “I’m so fucking terrified right now,” I say out loud. “I just can’t.”

  “You’re going to have to stay strong because when she comes back home, she’ll need us.”

  They’re going to be too late. I search for the email that Johnson, my PI, sent me over the weekend and input the address. I’m going to stop this, even if it’s the last thing I do.

  Three

  Wes

  I made good time from the Denver Tech Center to Thornton. According to the stupid GPS, I’m just a couple of minutes away.

  “In five hundred feet you’ll reach your destination on your left,” the robotic female voice says.

  “Fuck,” I growl at the barricades blocking the street.

  I park the car in the first available spot and rush toward the long line of emergency vehicles with their flashing lights.

  Men wearing blue jackets emblazoned with the letters FBI stand outside staring at the onlookers who are trying to find out what happened.

  “That house is unlucky. Just a few years back, one of the girls died,” one woman says.

  “They’re saying they got the other girl tonight.” The lady next to her nods twice after her comment.

  Not Abby. My chest heaves to the point that it groans with each breath.

  “Abby,” I finally find my voice and call out after her, fighting my way through the bystanders.

  “Sir, stay behind the line,” one of the men in blue orders.

  “Wes, wait. I’m sure she’s fine.” Sterling squeezes my shoulder.

  “Fine? Didn’t you hear the fucking call? He’s going to kill her.”

  “What’s going on?” A petite woman wearing black cargo pants and a tank top walks toward me. “Ah. Let him in. He’s with us.”

  “Go, bro. I’ll be here waiting.” Sterling stays behind the barricade.

  “I’m part of the HIB team, Mr. Ahern. Luna Galvez-Everhart,” she introduces herself. Luna, the name sounds vaguely familiar. “You helped me get one of the guys I was tracking for a couple of years.”

  “Where’s Abby?” I search around, checking every cruiser, van, and firetruck for her, but I can’t fucking feel her around me. “I heard him torturing her.”

  Luna flinches. “She’s on her way to the hospital.”

  My heart accelerates. “What happened?”

  “Cuts, bruises, and broken bones. Nothing life-threatening, don’t worry.” Her voice is steady, normal. As if this is nothing compared to what she deals with every day and I should just suck it up.

  “Hey, babe.” A tall, guy pulls her into his arms. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he envelops her. “You fucking scared me. Never do that again. I was barely in position.”

  “I had to, and I knew you’d have my back. We saved her. She’s going home.” My anger toward her settles as I hear the honesty in her words and her own relief at Abby’s survival.

  “Mr. Ahern, this is Harrison Everhart. He’s part of the team and the one who took down Shaun.”

  “You did your part too, little moon.”

  Catching up with them is pointless. I cut to the chase. “Where did they take her?”

  “St. Anthony’s,” Luna confirms with her phone.

  Without a word, I head to my car. I have to see her.

  “What’s going on?” Sterling asks as I pass through the barricade and rush to the car.

  “She’s in St. Anthony’s,” I repeat what Luna said, googling the address.

  Even though this area is only forty minutes from where I live, I don’t know it well. Once I get it, I set the driving directions and unlock the car, but Sterling is the one getting into the driver’s seat.

  “I’ll drive you. Get in the car, now,” he orders.

  “What el
se did they tell you?” he inquires, pulling the car out of the parking spot.

  I update him with the little information I gathered from the encounter with Luna. He remains quiet while I keep praying. She said nothing life-threatening, but was she playing it down?

  In less than ten minutes we’re at the hospital. He drops me by the Emergency entrance. I push the doors open and walk to the reception.

  “Where can I find Abby Lyons?” I ask.

  “Is she a patient?” The nurse’s attention goes to her computer.

  “I was told that the ambulance brought her here.”

  “Ah,” she sighs. “We don’t have her in our database, yet. Sometimes it takes a couple of hours to update. If you have her information though, you could help us by giving us her insurance card and filling out these forms.” She sets a clipboard on top of the desk.

  “Where can I find her?” I inquire with urgency this time.

  “I’ll try to find out while you fill out the paperwork.” The receptionist’s voice is firm. “Who are you to her?”

  “Her next of kin,” I say without hesitation.

  She pushes the clipboard closer. “Then you won’t have any problem filling out this, would you?”

  “You don’t understand,” I say.

  “I do, sir.” Her voice remains in control. “You’re not the first person with a family member sick, injured, or in need of medical attention. Or the first barging into my ER demanding information. As much as I’d love to help you, I can’t. When a patient arrives in an ambulance, it takes a little longer for us to receive any updated information, let alone her current condition. You’d do Ms. Lyons a favor if you help me with my forms. That way, she won’t have to do any of this nonsense. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Pulling all her information from my phone, I do what the receptionists requests while watching her. Once I’m done and hand it to her, she tells me what she knows.

  “She’s in the ER. Our nurses are cleaning her wounds, and we’ll prep her for surgery. I’ve been told that the orthopedic surgeon will arrive in a few hours. In the meantime, they’ll be attending to her other wounds.”

  My gut clenches when she says that. “What kind of wounds?”

  “Sorry, they didn’t specify, but I’m sure that once she’s out of surgery you’ll get the entire picture. Her condition is stable. There’s no life-threatening injuries to report.”

  — — —

  How could I let this happen? I run a hand through my hair while pacing back and forth through the waiting room. It’s been five hours since I arrived at the hospital. Shaun smashed seven of Abby’s fingers. One of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country flew in from Seattle to reconstruct them. I wish they had let me see her before she went into the operating room. My mind keeps running through the events of the past week. Fuck, the past six years. Every second I wasted being away from her. Each piece of information she gave me, and I ignored.

  Every lung full of oxygen I take is useless. I continue feeling like I’m choking. My entire life is right inside the OR, suffering the consequences of my stupidity. I should’ve done better for her. She warned me about these assholes. It wasn’t a game or some stupid nightmare. It was a fucking reality that almost ended her life.

  “Stop it,” Sterling steps right in front of me. “She’s going to be fine, and we’ll find a way to help her.”

  I’m about to say something when some movement coming from the hallway drags my attention.

  “How is Abby?” Luna asks as she enters the waiting room.

  I shake my head.

  “We don’t have any news yet,” Sterling responds and extends his hand. “Sterling Ahern. Pleased to meet you.”

  Harrison Everhart, who’s just right behind her, glares at him. He’s only an inch taller than my brother, but he’s ripped. “This is Luna, my wife. I’m Harrison Everhart.”

  “Nice to meet you both, and thank you for rescuing our Abby,” Sterling thanks them changing his attitude.

  “We heard that Brynn is already here,” Luna says. “Sorry, Dr. Ward. That’s the orthopedic surgeon.”

  “She’s in surgery,” I speak, letting out a loud breath. “Seven of her fingers were smashed. The nurse who updated us said that the doctor will work on reconstructing her hands.”

  “Brynn is the best,” Luna assures me. Then she gives me a serious stare, and every muscle aches with tension as I wait for what she’s about to say.

  “Wes, can I call you Wes?”

  I nod once.

  “Today isn’t my first rescue.” She clears her throat.

  “Luna,” her husband says her name, and it sounds like a warning.

  “He has to be informed,” she says. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes or function as a psychiatrist. I’m not. But I’ve seen a lot. This sort of event isn’t just a little accident where she’ll need a few days to recover. The kind of emotional trauma Abby suffered runs deep into the psyche. She’s a tough woman, and I believe she’ll recover, but she’s going to need professional help.”

  “Ahern, sorry it took us this long to come by,” Bradley interrupts as he enters the area, followed by Hawk.

  “She’s going to be fine, man,” Hawkins says as he walks toward me. He gives me a hug, slapping my back. “One of the best doctors in the country is taking care of her.”

  Luna looks at all of them and then at me. “As I was saying, I specialize in crimes of human trafficking. Because of what I’ve learned from the victims, I set up a center to help people just like Abby. There’s a space open for Abigail if she wants it.”

  “She’ll stay with me. I can help her.”

  She snickers. “Men. They think they can fix everything.”

  “Luna, don’t do this. He’s already going through hell,” her husband warns her.

  “This is obviously all new to him. He has no training. Loving her isn’t enough in this case.” Luna serves me a stern look. “It’s her choice, not yours. I’ve seen it all. I don’t know you, but I know that you’re hurting too. Like her, you’ll need help and support. A strong man recognizes his limits. Be that man, for her.”

  I open my mouth to object the nosy bitch, but she turns around dismissing me. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me. I have to find some food.”

  “I’ll go with you,” her husband offers.

  She turns to look at Hawk. “Go home. Your wife is due any minute now. You don’t want to miss the birth of your children.”

  “The plane is waiting for you,” Bradley tells Hawk. “We’ll stay around until we know she’s out of surgery.”

  Hawkins extends his arm toward me. “Nice meeting you. Take care of her.”

  “Thank you,” I say and though I’m not in the mood to be polite I add, “And congrats on the babies.”

  “What happened with Corbin?” I need to know more. Is he still around?

  “He’s under arrest, facing multiple charges, including murder. We caught him on the border between New Mexico and Colorado,” Bradley answers, talking a deep breath. “Peyton is on her way too. She was part of the operation.”

  Fuck, I feel like I failed Abby, but how could I have known? She didn’t even tell me about her past until a couple of nights ago.

  “Thank you. If you ever need anything let me know,” I offer because I’m indebted to them.

  “Count on it,” he grins.

  — — —

  Around ten in the morning, I send Sterling home to rest. Abby’s still in surgery. Bradley, Luna, and Harrison come and go. There’s always someone keeping me company. Finally, around noon, the nurse comes out telling me that she’s in the recovery room and in a couple of hours she’ll be moved into a private room. I relax slightly at the news. It feels like forever since she’d called to tell me Shaun was with her.

  Bradley and I go to the cafeteria to eat some lunch. An hour later, the nurse tells me that she’s doing great and they decided to move her into the room. I almost run to ge
t in there, but I stay outside as there’s a doctor and several nurses around the bed. Leaning against the wall, I wait for them to finish setting her up.

  A few minute later, a beautiful woman wearing a white coat comes out of her room. Her captivating, light-green eyes find mine. She smiles. “You must be Weston. I’m Brynn Ward.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice.” I shake her hand. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s resting. The nurse just gave her some meds for the pain, so she might be out for a little while. As I explained to Miss Lyons, those hands will be working fine in a few months but she’s going to have to work hard to regain her strength. The lacerations have been stitched. Everything should heal timely. We’ll keep an eye on her while she’s here.”

  Numb and grief-stricken, I march toward her room. The tension in my chest spreads to every pore of my body. Bradley warned me about what I’d find when I saw her, but it’s almost impossible to be prepared. I bite back the sob rattling in my chest at the sight of her.

  A pang of pain hits me when I see Abby, still and lifeless in the hospital bed. Her face is swollen with bruises purple and blue. There’s an IV connected in her right arm. There’re a couple of wires coming out of her robe and connected to the heart monitor right next to the bed.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper stepping to her side.

  Leaning over her, I’m able to study her more closely. She has a few stitches on the left side of her forehead. Horror and guilt rise inside me, flaying my soul. I should’ve never left her side. Bradley warned me to stay close to her. Why didn’t I listen to him?

  “Fuck,” I mumble, cursing myself. She’s already lived through enough. It was fucking hard to bring some life back into her six years ago. How am I supposed to fix her now?

  “Hi,” I greet her, brushing the strands of hair away from her face.

  Her eyes open slightly. She flinches. “Hey.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Worse than I look,” she answers, pretending to laugh but moaning when her body shakes. “Thank you for finding me.”