White Wedding

by Stacy Claflin

“I woke you when the movie was over, and you went to bed. Were you so tired you can’t remember it?”

  He nodded. “What about the kids? Did you get them all off to school?”

  “I did. They’re all safe and sound. Sorry if you were worried when you woke. I just wanted you to get as much sleep as you needed.”

  Relief washed through him. “I appreciate that.”

  “Are you hungry? My parents invited us over for brunch.”

  He rubbed his eyes. “That sounds nice. I need to shower first.”

  “Whatever you need. I’ll let them know we’ll be over soon.” She gave him another kiss. “Did you get enough rest? You still look tired.”

  “I kept waking up. Couldn’t stop thinking about what those clothes meant. My dreams were ridiculous, trying to make sense of it all.”

  She cupped his chin and held his gaze. “Don’t let it get to you. We’re getting married, and nothing can get in the way of that.”

  A warm wave ran through him. “I’m glad for that.” He pulled her close and clung to her. “What would I do without you?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’d be fine.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “You got along pretty well before we met.”

  He snickered. “That’s what you think.”

  “You did. Get that shower, and I’ll call my parents. I have a few other calls to make about the wedding, so take your time. Everything is fine, so you can relax.”

  “I’ll try.” But it was unlikely given the thoughts racing through his mind.

  She gave him his phone.

  It was 10:45. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late. And yet he didn’t feel as refreshed as he’d have thought after sleeping in.

  By the time he finished getting dressed, Genevieve was sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone.

  “Already done with your calls?” he asked.

  She glanced up and smiled. “Yep. Everything’s set for the big day. Should all go off without a hitch.”

  “Do you need any help? It feels like you’re doing all the work.”

  “I’m excited to. Besides, you’ve done plenty. Don’t feel bad about sleeping in. I’ve only got one more fitting of the dress! I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  He sat next to her and gave her a slow, deep kiss. “And I can’t wait to see you in it. You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world.”

  She beamed. “And you’ll be the most handsome groom. That reminds me, do you have any more tux fittings?”

  “Not unless something has changed. They said everything was good to go at the shop last time I was there.”

  “Great.” She laced her fingers through his. “Now we’ll be able to focus on everything that needs to be done for the ceremony and reception. Can you believe we’re down to the wire?”

  “What? Already?” He did mental math. She was right.

  “Don’t look so scared!” She shoved him and laughed.

  “Scared to make you my wife?” He kissed her cheek. “Never. I’m just worried we won’t have enough time to get everything done.”

  “We will.” She squeezed his hand. “That’s why we took time off work. We’ll pull the kids from school if we end up needing the extra help.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was serious. “Or we could ask our retired parents.”

  “Speaking of them.” She glanced at the time. “We should get going. My mom said her quiche was almost done cooking when I spoke with her.”

  Nick rose and helped her up. After gathering their things, they headed outside.

  “Do you want to take my car or yours?” Nick asked as he locked the deadbolt. “Mine’s going to need gas, so we’ll have to stop on the way.”

  She glanced at her phone. “We’d better take mine. Mom’s worried about the quiche getting cold.”

  “Your car it is.” He took her hand in his and breathed in the warm autumn air. Leaves crushed underfoot as they made their way to her car.

  Genevieve stopped and gasped.

  “What?” Nick looked around, expecting to see a wild animal. It wouldn’t have been the first time—they’d seen bears, coyotes, and a fox in the last month.

  She let go of his hand and reached for something on the hood of her car.

  A bouquet of roses.

  Black roses.

  The message was clear. Someone wanted to sabotage their wedding.

  His anger made it hard for him to see straight. Fury pulsed through his body as he looked around, this time for a person.

  “There’s a note.” Genevieve’s voice wobbled. She slid on gloves from her purse then pulled the note out from the stems. Her eyes widened as she unfolded it.

  “What does it say?” he demanded.

  Genevieve looked at him, her face paling. “Call off the wedding or the kid dies.”

  Nick looked at the paper and studied the messy handwriting. His heart thundered. “How dare they threaten our family?”

  “I don’t think they mean our kids.” She looked at it. “It has to mean Damon. His clothes were spread around here yesterday.”

  Nick was tempted to crinkle the note, settled for squeezing his fists as tightly as possible instead. “Nobody is going to stop our wedding. They’ll have to kill me first.”

  Chapter 28

  Damon stared in disbelief at the open door. He could actually walk out if he wanted to. Which he did want to. Although he stared at the carpeting on the other side of the threshold as if it would leap up and strike.

  What if this was a trap? But how could it be? It wasn’t like his abductors left it open for him. They probably didn’t even know the key was in that purse, in the middle of a pile of boxes.

  He took one step out of the room and listened. Cupped his ears, strained to hear anything.

  Silence.

  For the first time, that was a welcome sound.

  He took another step, listened, and inched forward again.

  Nothing.

  Damon crept up the stairs to the main level, his heart racing faster with each movement. He stopped at the door and peeked outside through the peephole. Nobody was there. No cars other than his dad’s.

  He spun around and looked down the hall, took in the entryway and the room Dad always used to dump his suitcases after a business trip.

  Business trips. Right. Now he knew better.

  Some luggage sat in a corner. The sight tugged on his heart. Then shame washed through him. How could he miss that man? He wasn’t missing the cruel monster who beat him and tried to ruin Ariana’s family—not to mention all the kidnappings Damon knew almost nothing about. No, he definitely didn’t miss that man. He missed the guy who had at one time been a good dad. And that man was locked away deeper in his father than his dad was locked in prison.

  Damon took a deep breath and looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon. Just because the house appeared empty didn’t mean it was. Someone could’ve parked on a street and walked. Or parked somewhere else on the property.

  It made no sense that the captors would all take off. Maybe some of them had left, leaving one or two others. That was more likely than him being there alone.

  His bladder stung. He wanted to race to the nearest bathroom to relieve himself, but he had to make sure he was alone first. And the thought of peeing without an audience was ridiculously appealing.

  Damon crept over to the fireplace and grabbed a poker. That would make a good weapon. Dad always kept it sharpened. A chill ran down his back, realizing what his dad’s motives had actually been.

  His stomach lurched, thinking about the fact that he was related to someone who found so much joy in hurting others.

  At least he had choices. Choices trumped DNA. Besides, he was also half his mom. And she had been one of the best people to walk the earth. Damon would do good with his life. And this whole experience just made him more sure of that decision.

  He held the fire poker close and crept down the hallway. The living room and kitchen
were destroyed. Well, messy. Food wrappers were strewn around. Empty cups and half-filled plates littered every surface. The sink was full of dirty pots, pans, and dishes. Pictures and expensive pieces of art were knocked off the walls.

  If his dad saw this, he’d throw a fit. Damon cringed at the thought. But the good news was he was in prison—not that Damon would mind seeing his dad let loose on the people who held him against his will.

  He hurried through the rest of the main floor before heading upstairs to check the bedrooms.

  The house was empty, at least for the time being.

  Relief washed through him as he stood in his dad’s bedroom doorway and looked around again. He’d checked everywhere, trying to ignore his bladder. The master suite was the last place he looked, and finding no one, he could finally go. He dashed into the bathroom, half-expecting someone to jump out and drag him back to the lower level prison.

  But nobody did, and he could finally relieve himself.

  As he washed his hands, his stomach rumbled.

  Damon groaned. He needed to get out of here, and fast. But he also needed energy. And fresh clothes.

  His stomach ached from the lack of food. Hopefully his abductors had left something.

  He went to his room and found some clean clothes. Didn’t bother throwing anything into the hamper.

  His pulse drummed in his ears as he made his way back downstairs. It seemed to get louder as he rummaged through the fridge and cabinets.

  That was when he noticed the power was off. The fridge was dark and warm. He whipped around and looked at the clock on the microwave.

  Blank.

  Had his captors cut the electricity? That would explain the cold.

  Then he saw the landline phone. Thankfully it had a cord. Mom had always insisted on having a phone in case of emergencies. And this qualified as an emergency.

  But if the power was out, would the landline be, too?

  Damon raced over and picked up the handle, brought it to his ear.

  A dial tone.

  His knees went weak with relief. It was actually working.

  He dialed 911. His heart hammered against his chest as it rang. He squeezed it.

  “Nine-one-one,” answered a tired-sounding woman. “What’s your emergency?”

  Damon struggled to find his voice. “M-my name’s Damon Jones and I—”

  “You’re Damon Jones? The missing kid?”

  He leaned against the counter. People were looking for him. They knew he was gone.

  “Hello?” the operator asked. “Are you still there? Damon?”

  “Yes, I’m here.” He cleared his throat. “I’m at my house. Well, my dad’s house.” He rattled off the address he’d had memorized since he was a boy.

  The woman said that police were on their way, then she asked a bunch of questions. He struggled to keep up and answer them all. Some he couldn’t.

  Then another thought hit him. What if his abductors were listening to the police scanner? They’d know he got out and called for help.

  Damon looked around for the fire poker. Didn’t see it. Answered a question for the operator. Tried to figure out where he’d left his weapon.

  Upstairs. He’d set it down to change his clothes. And he couldn’t stay on the phone and race up to get it. The phone was plugged into the wall, had a cord trapping him to the kitchen.

  He pulled the receiver away from his ear and listened.

  Maybe the fact that the police were on their way would be enough to keep the abductors away. Actually, he wished they would come back and try to get to Damon. Then the cops could find and arrest them.

  It would be perfect.

  The operator’s tone sounded frantic, so he brought it back to his ear. “What did you say?”

  “Good, you’re still on the line. The police are heading up your driveway now. Do you see them yet?”

  “I can’t see the front of the house from here. I’ll go check.”

  “No. Wait until you hear them knock or ring the bell. You need to stay on the line.”

  Time seemed to stand still as he waited.

  Then he heard the most beautiful sound.

  Ding-dong.

  “They’re here,” he said.

  She finally allowed him to hang up.

  Then, pulse on fire, Damon hurried for the front door.

  Chapter 29

  Alex leaped out of the car before Anderson pulled to a stop. He could hardly believe Damon was inside.

  And they had just been there that morning. Knocked and walked partway around the house.

  Anderson had thought he’d heard something. What if it had been Damon trying to get their attention?

  He raced up the steps and rang the bell. It was tempting to push the button over and over until Damon answered. Instead, he waited. Got on his radio and confirmed he was at the door.

  Click.

  The deadbolt unlocked. Then the knob twisted. The door pulled in.

  Damon stood there, his hair disheveled and his face and arms bruised and bloodied. But he was alive. He was actually alive.

  Alex wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

  Damon returned the embrace, shaking.

  Emotion overtook Alex, making it hard to remember protocol. He gave Damon another squeeze then stepped back and looked him over. His fresh clothes didn’t match the rest of him—bruised, scratched, crusted blood in places.

  “What happened?” Alex hardly recognized his own voice.

  Anderson appeared at his side. Sirens sounded behind them. Several cruisers barreled down the driveway. An ambulance came behind them.

  Alex put his arm around Damon. “Let’s get you checked out, then you can tell us everything.”

  Chaos broke out as the other officers exited their vehicles and questioned him.

  “Nobody else is in there,” Damon said. He rubbed the side of his head.

  “Where have you been all this time?” Anderson asked.

  “Basement. They wouldn’t let me out.”

  “Where are they now?” Garcia looked inside.

  “They left.” Damon leaned against the doorway. “Can I sit down?”

  Alex guided him toward the driveway. “Let’s get you over to the ambulance.”

  Garcia turned to Anderson. “Have you cleared the building yet?”

  He shook his head no and grabbed his gun. “Let’s have a look. Damon says nobody’s in there.”

  Alex helped him down the steps. “Who brought you here?”

  “I’m not sure. I think they must work with my dad.”

  “I’d say that’s a safe bet. You didn’t see them?”

  Damon shook his head. “Not in any good lighting.”

  “Hopefully you saw enough for our sketch artist to draw something.”

  He frowned. “I doubt it.”

  “How’d they manage to get you? Catch you by surprise?”

  “They drugged my coffee.”

  Alex gave him a double-take. “At the coffee shop?”

  He nodded, but then gave Alex a confused look. “How’d you know about that?”

  “You texted Ariana about getting coffee. It was the only lead we had to go on.”

  Damon didn’t have a chance to respond because the medics rushed over and started looking over his wounds. They asked him more questions, and Alex jotted notes in his app.

  From the sounds of it, the abductors had mostly left him alone after taking him, but then they’d beat him after he escaped.

  “How’d you get out of the room?” Alex asked.

  Damon glanced over at him, dark circles under his eyes more apparent than before. “There were boxes down there. Mostly my mom’s stuff. I found a key in one of those boxes.”

  Alex frowned. “Your dad had a room that locked outside of the room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you never thought that was strange? When you were living there, I mean.”

  “I never went down there. Dad didn’t want me to. I
have some questions for him about that.”

  Alex’s stomach knotted. Nobody had told Damon about his dad’s death yet.

  “You okay?” Damon asked.

  “Just thinking.” Alex glanced at one of the medics. “Is his arm going to need stitches?”

  Damon frowned.

  The kid was smart. He could probably tell Alex was changing the subject on purpose.

  Sergeant Wu beckoned him to where he stood in the front yard.

  Alex shook his head. He wasn’t going to leave Damon’s side until he personally gave the news to him.

  Wu gave him a quizzical expression as he headed over. “You don’t come over when a superior calls you?”

  Alex stepped closer to him and glanced at Damon, who was deep in conversation with one of the medics, then turned back to the sergeant. “He doesn't know about his dad yet. I’m going to make sure someone doesn’t let it slip before I have a chance to talk to him.”

  “I understand.”

  Alex craned his neck to see inside the house. “Is the building clear?”

  “Yes. They’re checking for prints and DNA now.”

  “Any updates on Kutcher?”

  Wu shook his head. “Nothing. But just before I got word about Damon, I heard another of the ringleaders was taken down.”

  “Really?” Alex asked. “Where?”

  “Florida. I don’t have any other details.”

  One of the medics called Alex over.

  He hurried back to the ambulance.

  “Sure, listen to them.” Wu smirked.

  Alex threw him a sheepish grin before glancing at the paramedic. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to take the victim to the hospital. He’s got a cut that’s infected and we suspect a concussion.”

  “I’m coming with him.” Alex turned back to the sergeant. “Tell Anderson I’m going to the hospital.”

  Wu nodded. “Will do.”

  Alex climbed into the back of the vehicle and made small talk with Damon as the paramedic checked his blood pressure.

  Damon turned to him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Confusion or not, the kid was observant and intelligent.

  “Well?”

  Alex swallowed. “There’s some news, but it should wait.”