by Debra Kayn
Dean shut the door, put the gun behind his belt, and grabbed her, tossing her to the floor. She cried out. Pain ricocheting through her hand into her wrist.
Travis fell beside her, blood running down his nose. She reached out for him, and Dean rolled her to her stomach before she could get to Travis. She kicked out, knowing if she couldn't get to her feet, she'd have no chance of stopping him.
He yanked her hands behind her back, binding them with tape. She struggled, receiving a jab of his knee to her lower back. With her arms confined at the wrist, she struggled to breathe. The edges of her vision darkened.
The heavy weight of Dean's body lifted off her. Lying on her stomach with her arms trapped behind her, she choked, coughing harshly.
Travis landed beside her. She grunted, trying to roll her body back and forth to get to him. With Dean distracted with Duct taping Travis's arms behind his back, she swung her leg, kicking him in the side.
Dean caught her ankle and squeezed. Rage erupted, and she kicked out harder, getting loose. He couldn't keep them here. Nobody would find them. In the last four years, she'd only entered Unit C twice. Once to assess the damage after her grandpa died and once when she brought Wyatt up to give her an estimate.
Dean stood. "Last chance, kid. If you ever want to see tomorrow, you'll tell me where I can find what belongs to me."
"Will you let us go if I tell you?" snapped Travis.
Dean pointed the pistol at the back of Travis's head and pulled back the hammer. The click echoed in the vacant apartment. "What do you think?"
"Okay. Okay." Travis sniffed. "There's a rock by the power station. By the...the trees that are white. There're three trees. All the other ones are pine. I dug a hole. The bag is there under the rock."
"Which power station?" said Dean.
"The one on Moon Gulch." Travis groaned, trying to move.
"You better hope you're telling me the truth or I'm going to come back here and kill you both." Dean's voice changed directions.
Weight fell on Joey's legs, and Dean taped her ankles. "I should kill you for the trouble you've put me through but I need that bag. I swear, kid. If you are fucking lying, I'll do the same thing to you as I did to your mom."
He moved off Joey and taped Travis's ankles. She stared in Travis's eyes and recognized defeat at the mention of his mom.
Several seconds later, the door shut. Afraid to say anything in case Dean hadn't gone out, she mouthed, "Are you okay?"
Travis nodded, his bloody cheek rubbing against the stank carpet. "We need to get out of here."
"I can't move."
Travis grunted, contorting his bound body and rolled onto his back. After several attempts, he was able to sit up. From there, he couldn't get up without the use of his arms and legs.
"He'll be back." Travis gasped for breath. "He'll kill us. He will."
"You told him where he could find what he was looking for. Maybe he'll leave and not come back."
Travis looked at her, his gaze filled with anguish. "I lied. What he wants isn't there."
Her head spun, and her pulse throbbed in her throat. Oh, Travis, what have you done?
Chapter 34
Wyatt
THE RAIN POURED DOWN. Jess walked beside Wyatt, talking about Volleyball tryouts while moaning about her tired legs and running lines and doing burpees. Despite how tired she was, her excitement never stopped her mouth from moving. He grinned at his girl, proud that she'd given it her all.
"Do you think you'll get picked for the Varsity team?" He looped his arm around her shoulders, trying to keep the rain off her.
"I hope so. I'd hate to play on the junior varsity team as a junior with all the sophomores."
He stopped in front of Joey's apartment. The door was open.
Letting go of Jess, he said, "Stay here."
He walked inside, looked in each room, and came back outside. "She's not here. Neither is Travis."
"Maybe she went to the rec center." Jess dropped her bag. "I'll run over and see if they're there."
"No, we'll both go," he said.
"Wait up." Jess jogged beside him, groaning as she had to use her exhausted muscles. "Are you worried about Travis?"
"I always worry about you both. That's my job." He opened the door to the rec center and went inside. "Check the laundry room."
"Has anyone seen Joey?" he asked the people playing cards.
"She was here earlier, shining the windows." Mr. Baste held his hand close to his chest.
"Did she say where she was going next?"
Mr. Baste studied him. "Did you lose her?"
"Just looking for her and my son." He turned when Jess came out of the laundry room.
"She's not there." Jess grabbed his hand. "Travis probably talked her into going to our apartment. He can't take his hacky sack to school, so maybe he wanted to go get it."
"Yeah." He walked outside, looking toward his place. The door was closed. Maybe his daughter was right.
Using his key, he went inside. Clothes were strewn all over. The couch, toppled in the middle of the room, blocked his path. The television was tipped out of the entertainment center, upside down on the floor.
Jess gasped. He caught his daughter and kept her from rushing to her bedroom.
"Joey? Travis?" Silence greeted him. "Stay here."
He hurried down the hallway, checking both bedrooms. The apartment was a mess. Someone had come through and ransacked each room. Cold sweat broke out on him. Fuck.
Returning to Jess in the living room, he turned the couch and pointed. "Sit. Don't touch anything."
He went into the kitchen and called Priest. Joey understood his need to keep his family safe. She wouldn't run off to the store and leave her door open. She wouldn't be outside working on the apartments, because it was pouring rain outside.
She'd be home because he'd asked her to be home.
She'd be with Travis because she loved his kid.
She'd be cooking dinner because she took care of everyone in his family.
"Travis and Joey are missing," he said to Priest. "Who the fuck is watching the road and parking lot at the apartments?"
"I'll put a call out. Where are you now?" asked Priest.
"Home."
"We'll be there within ten minutes." Priest hung up.
He slammed the receiver down on the phone. Rage fueled his fear. If anything happened to either one of them, heads would roll.
"Dad?" Jess's voice quivered.
He stepped into the living room, spotting his daughter leaning over the back of the couch, gazing out the window. He thrust his hands through his wet hair, pushing the strands off his face. "Yeah?"
"There's a biker outside. Make that two."
"Hopefully, Priest sends the whole damn club." He went to the door.
The wind blew the rain on him. Ignoring the wetness, he stalked outside and filled Paco, Rabbit, and Razor in. Although he wanted to go out and look for them, he couldn't leave Jess alone in the apartment. Not when he had no fucking clue where the other half of his family was and why someone would ransack his place.
"Dad, Travis wouldn't run away. I made him promise never to hide and scare us, and he was serious when he said he wouldn't. He also wouldn't ruin the apartment like this." She slipped her arms around his waist. "Where do you think they are?"
"I don't know, but we'll find them." He stared over at Joey's apartment.
Each time Travis had run off, he'd found him in different areas of the city. None of them made any sense. It was almost like his son wasn't running toward something but away. Could Dean have gotten in contact with him more often than the one time he'd been caught giving Travis a ride home from school last year?
Once he thought about each time, it made sense that Travis wasn't running toward someone or something that was familiar. He was running away because he was scared.
His son wanted to live with him. Nobody could convince him otherwise. He knew his kid. Travis also loved having Jo
ey in his life. There was nothing here that he would want to leave.
"Jess, baby?" He turned to her. "Tell me what the relationship between Dean and Travis was like before your mom died."
She curled her lip. "You know we didn't like him."
"I know that, but did Travis argue with him, stay away from him, or say anything?"
Jess looked away. "It doesn’t matter anymore. We don't live with him and mom's...dead."
He grasped Jess's shoulders. "This is important. It could help me find your brother."
"I promised him I wouldn't tell you," she whispered, tears spilling.
"Sometimes, doing what is best for someone else means breaking your word, baby. It sucks, but right now, your brother and Joey need us. I want to help him, but if I don't find out what is going through his head, my hands are tied. Now, it's cold, it's wet, and it's getting dark. I want the rest of my family home."
She wiped her face. "Travis thinks Dean killed our mom. I always tried to protect him from seeing mom when she was acting crazy. He was too young to remember what she was like when she was clean. But she wasn't always like that. When she'd go away, I'd lie to Travis and tell him she had something to do. I never let him know she stayed away because she was doing drugs. The day she died, she was acting funny the night before. I think she was on drugs when she crashed the car."
"Do you know why he'd believe Dean killed your mom?"
She shrugged. "He mentioned hearing them argue in the bedroom, but he couldn't see what they were doing. He thinks whatever happened at home killed her but I was there when the police knocked on the door a couple of days later and told us—Jess swallowed—mom crashed her car into the river."
"Okay." He kissed her forehead, wishing he could take those memories from his kids and burn them. "Okay, baby."
His thoughts sped through his head, knowing what Tarkio had told him, what Jess had told him, and piecing it all together. He paced the living room. If Dean believed Travis could point to him as murdering Claudia, he would want to silence his son.
More bikers arrived outside. He went to the door to meet them.
Frank ran to the apartment. "The first group of riders is spreading out. It's getting dark and more members are on their way. Any word?"
"No, but I need you to stay with my daughter. I'm going around and knocking on every fucking door and asking the tenants if they've seen Travis and Joey." He grabbed his leather coat.
"I can do that for you. Stay with your girl." Frank backed away.
"No, I'll do it. They know me, and won't get alarmed. The last thing I need is a bunch of people running around getting in our way." He looked at Jess. "Will you be okay?"
Jess nodded. "I won't go anywhere. Hurry, Dad."
"I will." He clapped Frank's shoulder. "Thanks, man."
Starting at Unit A, he knocked on Joey's neighbor's door. He kept the questions short and remained calm. Nobody needed to know why he was asking or see the fear inside of him.
All three apartments on the ground floor hadn't seen her. He ran up the stairs, inquiring at each door on the second story. It took longer than usual at Mrs. Danski's apartment, waiting for her to answer his knock.
"Mr. Carr, what are you doing out in the rain?" Mrs. Danski stepped back. "Come in and dry off."
"I can't tonight. I was wondering if you've seen Joey or my son, Travis?"
She smiled. "Yes, I've seen them."
"Can you remember when?" His heart raced. Mrs. Danski was a busybody who loved Joey.
"Of course, I can. I haven't lost my mind yet. I can remember things clear back to when I was five years old when my mom took me to the strawberry fields." She smirked at him. "I talked to Joey right before I watched the end of my afternoon soap. It was almost three o'clock."
Disappointment filled him. He'd talked to Joey right before three o'clock. Nobody had seen her since. He had no idea if Travis got off the bus or not, or if he was with Joey.
"Then, I saw her a little after three o'clock when my show ended," said Mrs. Danski. "But she was busy, so I brought in my Christmas Cactus—because it was raining harder than I thought it would, and I don't want to shock the plant. It blooms every year. That plant is older than you, Mr. Carr. My mother, bless her soul, had—"
"Joey was busy?" he interrupted. "What was she doing?"
Mrs. Danski clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. "Yes, I believe she was escorting a repairman to one of the apartments. Her and young Travis. They were all walking in the rain like they weren't getting soaking wet. Young people... don't think about catching a cold the way us older folks do. They're all about going places and seeing people."
He stepped back to the railing of the balcony and peered down. "What did the repairman look like?"
"Scruffy. Long, dark hair. That's how I knew he was a repairman. At least this one had his pants covering his skinny rear-end." Mrs. Danski tsked her tongue. "I've seen some repairmen that make you wonder why they can't feel the breeze on their backend."
"Which direction did they go?"
Mrs. Danski pointed toward the end unit. "Really, Mr. Carr. You sure are full of questions. Are you missing our sweet Joey?"
"You have no idea, Mrs. Danski." He backed away. "Thank you."
"Good luck finding her, Mr. Carr."
He lifted his hand, taking the stairs three at a time. Betting his life that the skinny ass repairman was Dean Miller, and he had Travis and Joey, he ran. He'd already lost precious minutes.
Chapter 35
Joey
TRAVIS HOPPED ACROSS the room on two feet and threw his shoulder against the door. Sitting on the floor, Joey cringed. He was going to break a bone if he continued.
Neither one of them could get the tape binding their ankles off or free their wrists bound behind their back. Frustrated because she couldn't do more, she rotated her shoulders. The pain from being in the awkward position was unbearable. While Travis had finally got on his feet and was able to hop, she couldn't even get her feet under her and stand.
"I could throw myself through the window." Travis leaned against the door for support, panting hard.
"No, you will not." She inhaled deeply. "Let's yell again at the count of three. One. Two. Three."
She screamed, "Help."
Her voice warbled under the strain until her throat spasmed, and she gagged. She had no idea how much time had gone by since Dean had left. It was probably useless to yell, hoping someone would hear her. Nobody lived in the apartments surrounding this one. Unit C was vacant and had been for years.
Plus, the rain outside muffled a lot of the noise. But she couldn't give up. She needed to get Travis out of here before Dean showed back up, pissed because he was lied to.
"What are we going to do when he comes back?" Travis pressed his head against the wall.
She wished she could help him. It'd taken everything out of him to get to his feet, and now he struggled with exhaustion and refused to sit back down. He never had to tell her that the chance of him getting back up kept him on his feet.
"Can you lock the door with your mouth? The little turn-thingy in the handle?" she asked.
He hopped, moving his body until he stood a foot away from the door. Grimacing when he hit his hurt nose going down, she sent up a prayer that Dean wouldn't come back, and someone would find them. By now, Wyatt had to know they were missing.
Afraid he'd look outside and on the streets like he had when Travis had run away before, she'd yelled until she was hoarse.
"I'm getting it," mumbled Travis, still working on the switch with his mouth.
"I know it won't stop someone from breaking down the door, but it'll at least give us a little warning before he busts in here."
"Got it." Travis straightened and pressed his shoulder against the door, using it for balance. "I wish my dad was here."
"Me, too, buddy. Me, too," she whispered, closing her eyes an extra beat. "He'll come."
She had to believe that. They only needed to sta
y strong while they waited. Meanwhile, she'd figure out some way to save them.
"What did you hide that belonged to your stepdad?" she asked.
"He's not my stepdad anymore."
"Right," she said softly.
Travis glanced at her. "Do you really want to know?"
She nodded. Whatever it was, it was important.
"It's a bag of drugs."
"What?" She gawked. "How...? Who's?"
"Dean's." His Adam's apple bobbed. "He forced my mom to take them, and it killed her."
"But she died in a car crash, and she was alone."
He shook his head. "No, she didn't. I saw Dean put her in the car. She was already dead, and Dean drove."
"Oh, honey..." She swallowed.
Whatever he'd seen must've scared him to death. He was a child and probably misunderstood the adult situation. People on drugs could act differently, even appear dead when they were out of their mind from the effects of whatever they'd snorted or consumed.
"I'm not lying." Anger flashed through his eyes, hardening his mouth. "I heard Dean force her to take the drug and then laugh, telling her it was dirty. I didn't know what that meant, but I do now. If I would've known...I could've stopped him. I could've saved her. When he carried her to the car, I snuck in the bedroom and found the drugs and stuffed it all in a bag, hiding it in my room."
"Does Jess know?" Concerned that while they were held captive in the room, Dean would go after Jess.
Travis shook his head. "I told her Dean killed Mom, but she didn't believe me. I didn't tell anyone I had the proof. A few days later, when Dad came and picked us up that night after the police told us mom had driven into the river, I brought the drugs with me so Dean couldn't kill anyone else."
"Oh, Travis," she whispered, hurting for the boy.
"You have to believe me."
Her heart squeezed, and she strained against the binding on her wrists, wanting to go to him. "I do, buddy. I do."
Travis sniffed and wiped his cheek on his shoulder. "Dean must've figured out it was me who stole them. He kept following me after we moved in with Dad. That's why I kept running away and couldn't tell Dad. I've hidden the bag three times, moving it to different places, and he's never found it. I didn't want him getting to Dad or Jess or you, and making you take the drug. I figured if I hid the bag away from home, he'd leave us alone."