by Lane Hart
“Danny didn’t see anything to suggest they left with her.”
“How far away is it?” she asks as all the guys grab their cuts and start toward the door, knowing what this means.
“Half an hour or less depending on how fast we ride,” I answer. “You coming?”
“Hell yes,” she replies, just as I expected. I know it’s safer for her to stay here in the clubhouse, but for one, there’s no way Charlotte is going to sit around and wait for us to get back. And two, I feel better when she’s with me where I can see her, touch her, and know she’s okay.
“Just to warn you,” I say as we hurry out the door. “We don’t know what we’ll find, if anything. You know that, right?” I ask her. What I really mean is, can she handle it if it’s bad news and we’re too late. Fuck, I hope we’re not too late.
“I understand, Roman. I have to know, though. I just, I need to be there for her.”
“Okay,” I agree as I slap the helmet on her head and leave her to fasten the chinstrap while everyone else mounts their bikes. “I’m going to have Danny send the local fire department and EMS to the facility, and then we’re going to open up every single unit in the entire fucking place, understood?”
There’s no traffic this time of night, so the ride is even quicker than I expected. In fact, the emergency responders are just getting out of their vehicles when our crew rolls up.
“What’s this?” one of the firefighters ask, gesturing to our row of motorcycles.
As soon as all the noise of the engines die down, I help Charlotte off and then walk up to the men in uniform. “We’re the ones who called you here,” I tell the firemen. “You got bolt cutters?”
“Yes. Why?” he answers.
“We have reason to suspect that some men are using these facilities to hold women.”
“Women?” he repeats.
“Yes. So, grab the tools and we’ll take any extra you have to cover more ground.”
“The owners aren’t going to let us cut off the locks on all these units,” he tells me.
“Good thing I’m not asking for their fucking permission,” I reply. “And you aren’t either. Do you want to help us find these women, or do you want to sit around and wait for some asshat to give us the green light?”
“Let’s do it,” he says with a nod.
“There are so many…” Charlotte says from beside me as we look at the illuminated rows of storage units before us that stretch back a hundred feet or more.
“Let’s head to the back first,” Verek suggests. “If you want to hide something, you wouldn’t choose the first few rows.”
“That works for me,” I agree.
The firefighters hand out the tools they have on them, and then we split up into small groups, each taking a row.
“I don’t hear anything,” Charlotte says as we head for the back with Verek.
“They may be sick fucks, but I doubt they would be stupid enough to leave women who are able to yell for help,” Verek says, to which I clear my throat loudly in warning. “What? It’s true,” he replies.
Each lock takes several tries to snap with the old bolt cutters we were given, the extra seconds seeming like an eternity. And of course, each one we open, we only find the usual stored shit – furniture, cars, bikes, boats, but no women.
We’re on the eighth unit out of ten in our row when we lift the corrugated steel door and I shine the flashlight on my phone over what looks like a mostly empty container, when there’s suddenly movement in the back.
It takes my brain several seconds to translate what my eyes are seeing before I spin around, standing directly in front of Charlotte to block her view.
“What is it?” she asks.
“Verek?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Yeah…I…yeah,” he mutters as he eases past us with the light of his phone leading the way.
“Roman?” Charlotte looks up at my face and asks.
“We’ve got you, okay, sweetheart?” Verek says quietly behind us before I hear the bolt cutters snapping something metal, probably another lock. “Roman? Don’t let anyone else in here!”
“I won’t,” I respond as I back Charlotte up a few steps away from the front of the unit.
“What is it?” she asks and then she peeks around my shoulder before I can get her far enough away. “Tessa!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “Oh my god! Tessa! I’m so sorry!”
“Shh,” I tell her when I wrap my arms around her tightly to keep her from running in there and taking in even more of the scene. I’ve seen quite a few things that haunt my nightmares, but this storage unit just took the top spot. “You don’t need to see her like that. She’s alive. Verek’s going to get her free and then take her to get checked out by the paramedics and…” I clear my throat painfully, “…covered with some blankets, okay?”
“But…she needs me!” Charlotte sobs. She finally stops fighting and slumps against my chest.
“I know she does. You’ll see her soon, I promise,” I say as I stroke my palm over her hair and down her back. “What she’s been through…it’s worse than hell, but she is alive. She’s alive, Charlotte.”
“She’s alive,” Charlotte repeats. “She’s…she’s…” Without warning, she turns her head and vomits right next to our feet. And I don’t even blame her. I feel sick to my stomach too, certain that the image I just saw will be burned onto my eyelids and never forgotten.
“You okay?” I ask as I pull her hair back into a makeshift ponytail.
“No,” she answers while wiping her mouth with the bottom of her shirt, but she doesn’t throw up again.
A moment later, Verek strides out with Tessa cradled against his chest, his leather cut draped over her. “How is she?” I ask him as he hurries back toward the entrance where the ambulance is waiting.
“What do you think?” he sneers before he walks out of sight.
“Tessa! I’m right here!” Charlotte calls out. “I’m here!”
“Come on. I’ll take you over there so you can see her as soon as she gets checked out,” I tell her as I guide her back around towards the entrance, hoping the other women are found but worried they may be in worse condition. Tessa was here less than a goddamn day; and from the quick glance I got of her, she looked half dead, or like she wished she was with her head and arms locked in some weird ass fucking medieval stock, a piece of duct tape wrapped around her head to bind her mouth.
And while I know Charlotte has been beating herself up about Tessa going missing, I can’t help but feel responsible myself.
The girls were in my city, and she was taken right outside of one of my businesses. How the hell does something like that happen?
One ambulance turns into two, and then a third and fourth as more women are found. It’s an unbelievable scene as the cops show up along with the owner of the storage unit whose anger quickly transform into disbelief when he finds out what his tenants have been storing in his facility.
The entire time, I keep my arm around Charlotte, holding her to my side next to Tessa’s closed ambulance while we watch the whole ordeal unfolding before us.
Finally, the back door of the vehicle opens and Verek jumps down. “Tessa is asking for you, Charlotte. She wants to know if you’ll ride with her to the hospital.”
“Absolutely!” she exclaims in relief before she stands on her toes to kiss my cheek. Letting me go, she climbs up into the ambulance; and as soon as the doors shut, the vehicle takes off without the sirens on, which I take to be a good sign.
“What did the paramedics say about her condition?” I ask Verek. “I’m surprised they didn’t run you out of there while they examined her.”
“Oh, they tried, but Tessa wouldn’t let go of me, so they had no choice,” he explains. “Besides, what if everyone in town knows what’s been going on here, even the EMS workers?”
“That’s cynical and a bit paranoid, don’t you think?” I reply. “You actually believe people could know about this and
not report it?”
“No clue,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest. “All I know is that I’m going to find and kill every bastard that did know.”
“Maybe we got here too soon,” I tell him. “Maybe we should have waited until that van rolled back up…”
“We couldn’t have waited, Roman,” Verek interrupts. “These women…they needed us to find them more than they needed us to kill the men responsible.”
“But don’t you get it?” I ask him. “The motherfuckers got away. They could do this again to another woman, to more daughters, sisters, wives.”
“We’ll find them, prez,” Verek assures me with a slap on my back. “And then we’ll make them pay.”
Chapter Nine
Charlotte
* * *
My heart is breaking into a million tiny pieces as I sit on the metal bench in the back of the ambulance next to Tessa, who is strapped down on the stretcher, her hand squeezing mine tight.
“I’m here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her as silent teardrops fall from the corners of her eyes.
“I’m so stupid,” are Tessa’s first words to me, which catches me completely off-guard.
“Stupid? No, you’re not, Tessa. What are you talking about?” I ask her. “I’m stupid. This whole beach trip was my idea. Ending up at that club was my fault, and I’m so, so sorry. You are…you’re so brave and strong. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you!”
“I’m still lost, Charlotte,” she responds softly. “And I’m scared.”
“I’m right here with you, and nothing is going to happen to you like that again, I promise.”
Tessa squeezes her eyes shut, causing more tears to overflow from them when she whispers, “They’ll find me again.”
“They are not going to find you,” I assure her.
“They will,” she chokes out. Reaching up with her free hand, she rubs her fingers over the side of her neck. “Charlotte, they tagged me like a dog, like an animal that belongs to them.”
“Tagged you?” I repeat in confusion before I finally understand what she means. They inserted a tracker into her body? “Well, um,” I struggle to reply. “We’ll have the doctors take it out at the hospital soon, and I will personally kill anyone who tries to come near you if I have to.”
“Promise?” she asks.
“I do,” I tell her honestly. I would do anything to stop this from happening to her again. I can’t and don’t want to imagine what she’s been through during the last twenty-four hours since I last saw her. Everything has changed. Her entire life has now changed.
“You’re safe with me. And don’t forget Paul. He’ll be the most dangerous fiancé ever, not letting you out of his arms again.”
“He-he’s here? Paul’s here?” Tessa asks, eyes widening with panic.
“Of course. He’s been out looking for you all over town with his brother, Steven. I can’t wait to tell him the good news. He’ll be so happy you’re okay.”
“No,” Tessa says with a shake of her head. “I’m not okay, Charlotte! And I can’t see him! Please…please don’t make me face him like this,” she sobs before a flood of tears chokes her voice.
“Like what, Tessa?” I ask in confusion.
“Broken,” she replies. “They broke me.”
The final shred of my heart splinters and disintegrates. Whatever they did to her to make her feel this way, to completely destroy the spirit of my best friend, and the knowledge that there’s nothing I can do can fix it rips me apart.
“You are not broken,” I tell her. “You were just…hurt, badly, and, um, it’s going to take time, but we’ll get you through this.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be better.”
“You will,” I reassure here. “Slowly and gradually until you’re all healed up again.”
Tessa doesn’t respond before the ambulance comes to a stop and the paramedics open up the back doors to get her into the hospital.
“I want to stay with her,” I tell them.
“Sorry, but you need to wait here. If you want to have a seat in the waiting room, the nurse or doctor will come get you as soon as they see her,” one of them tells me as they start to whisk Tessa away.
“Tessa?”
“I’ll see you in a few?” she asks.
“Yes. I’ll be right here,” I promise.
“Okay. I’ll be okay,” Tessa says softly to herself.
In the waiting room, I pull my phone from my purse and see several text messages from Paul, Bev and the ladies, who have made it safely back to Raleigh and are wanting to know if I’ve heard anything.
I call Paul first so he can stop searching.
“Charlotte! Please tell me you’ve heard something!” he says in a frantic rush.
“We found her. She was in a storage facility in Shallotte.”
There’s several seconds of silence on the other side of the line before he asks, “Is she…is she alive?”
“She’s alive.”
“Oh, thank god!” he gasps. “Where are you?”
“We’re at the hospital just outside of Shallotte.”
“I’m on my way,” he says.
“Paul, wait! There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What? What is it?” he asks.
“Tessa…she said she’s not ready to see you just yet.”
Again, there’s a long pause. “She doesn’t want to see me?”
“Not yet. I’m sure she will soon, but right now she’s been through a lot, you know?”
“I’m coming, and I’ll wait, however long it takes,” he assures me.
“I know. I just wanted to warn you before you get here.”
“Understood. Thanks, Charlotte,” Paul says before he ends the call.
After I end the call on my end, I’m at a loss for what to do. Thankfully, I’m not alone long before Roman and the rest of his guys show up.
I’m so glad to see him that I throw my arms around him, crushing our bodies together.
“Hey. Any news yet?” he asks as I hold on to him like he’s the only solid thing in the world right now.
“Not yet.”
Finally, after several minutes, I extract myself from him and we all find a seat or, in most of the men’s cases, find a wall to prop up against while we wait in a heavy silence. There’s nothing to say, no small talk to make after the horror we all just witnessed.
In fact, the next time I speak is when Paul and his brother Steven come through the door.
“Is she okay?” Paul asks me.
“We’re still waiting,” I tell him. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer…” I say just as a man in dark green scrubs appears.
“I’m Tessa’s fiancé. How is she?” Paul asks the man.
“Her physical injuries are not life-threatening,” the doctor begins as he raises his hands and pats the air in a soothing gesture. “She’s got quite a few scrapes and bruises, and…” he hesitates, as though he is searching for the correct words. “…some trauma that is consistent with a sexual assault. Right now, she’s dehydrated, so we’re going to keep her overnight for observation. In the morning, we’ll see how she’s doing and get a mental health evaluation…”
“Wait, like a psych exam?” Paul asks.
“What Tessa’s been through was incredibly traumatic. She’s going to need to talk to a professional to deal with the events she endured over the past twenty-four hours. When we asked her how long she thought she was in the storage unit, she told us she thought it was several days rather than hours. She’s incredibly paranoid…”
“They put a tracker in her neck!” I interrupt him. “Were you able to get it out?”
The doctor pats at the air again soothingly when he replies. “We didn’t find any devices, not even microscopic ones, which leads me to believe her paranoia is extreme. She also keeps asking for blankets. I think she had eight the last time I checked.”
“Maybe she’s
just cold,” Paul suggests, mirroring my thoughts exactly.
“Everyone copes with surviving a crisis differently,” the doctor says. “All we can do is be patient and ensure that Tessa receives the support she needs. And as of right now, she’s only asking that Charlotte visit. I’m very sorry,” he says to Paul. “She told me about the wedding you two had planned. It’s a shame something so awful ruined what would have been a beautiful day.”
“Ruined it?” Paul echoes. “What do you mean ruined it? Does she — did Tessa say she doesn’t want to marry me anymore?”
The doctor looks to me and says, “That was just my impression, but hopefully Charlotte can spread more light on the subject?”
“Ah, yeah,” I agree. “I’ll go talk to her and report back,” I tell Paul.
He gives a nod but doesn’t say another word. His face is just blank, like he’s trying to figure out how his future with Tessa went from bright and happy to this…not being able to see her or talk to her while she recovers from the worst possible terror imaginable.
Back in Tessa’s room, I freeze in the doorway when I realize the doctor wasn’t exaggerating. The mountain of various colored blankets layered on her is so high that I can barely see Tessa’s head sticking out of the top.
“That’s quite a collection of covers you’ve got there,” I say to try and lighten the mood.
“They wouldn’t bring me anymore,” she tells me softly. “Said they had to save some for the other patients.”
“I think you have plenty, don’t you?” I ask. When she doesn’t respond, I tell her, “So, um, Paul and Steven are both here.”
“I still can’t see him, Charlotte!” she gasps. “Please don’t make me!”
“I’m not,” I quickly assert. “No one is going to make you do anything, okay? He’s just worried about you and wants to know how you’re doing. The doctor said you told him the wedding is off.”
“It is,” she agrees.
“You’re sure? We could probably postpone for a few weeks or months, just tell the caterers and florists to all hold off…”