Taken By Choice (Taken Trilogy Book 3)

by Jessica Frances

  I hug him back then step backwards. He watches us leave and I feel saddened that this could be it for us. Ethan has become a good friend, and I’m not ready to lose any more of them. When things have settled down, I’ll find him. No matter what happens, I’ll make sure he is okay.

  ***

  At the first opportunity, we call the local news station in Atlanta and alert them to gunshots at a hidden government facility. They appear skeptical until Blake picks up a gun and takes several shots. I nearly punch him in the face. He scared me to death. As it is, I scream at the gunshots and drop the phone, breaking it. If that doesn’t get their attention, then nothing will.

  We steal a car that’s parked out in front of The Ranch and drive through the night to Washington. My idea involves the guy I met briefly outside The Core. I remembered his name is Allan Hort and, through his website, we’re able to arrange a meeting with him to hand over all the information we have. He has already been investigating P.A.G.E. and so I know he isn’t part of this. We can trust him. He, however, doesn’t necessarily trust us and he takes a while to look over the information we give him.

  Some of it is autopsy reports of soldiers who died as a result of the tests run on them. It’s horrific the extent this spreads to. Allan said he would leave their names out, since the families needed to be informed first. I’m not sure if we should even release their names. Right now, they probably died heroes. With this report, it’ll be known that they were tricked and murdered, however my head is too full right now to think about it fully. For now, their names are protected and that’s good enough for me. I take out Frank’s name from the documents, not sure if I do it for him or for Mom. There isn’t any reason she has to know of Frank’s involvement in this.

  I’m thankful that Allan has a spare sweater for me to use that is only a few sizes too big for me. I take off my bloodied shirt and put it on. It hangs low on one of my shoulders, but I don’t care. The boys get a change of clothes also, and I find out Ocean has a deep graze over his arm from a bullet.

  They recount their attack from Maggie, and even though she’s small and compact, she appears to have kept the boys on their toes, even after her bullets ran out. Ocean is marred with bruises and Blake has several over his chest and arms. Will’s wound is healing nicely already, and even though the pain killers have worn off, he says he barely feels anything from it.

  I had the unfortunate timing of recalling the events that happened fully during the car ride. I cried uncontrollably knowing I murdered someone. I keep trying to tell myself that I did it in self-defense and Corby deserved to die. It doesn’t really change much, though, I still took a life. Something that I’ve never thought I could do. I’m disappointed. I’ve promised myself that as long as I live, I’ll never touch another gun again.

  I have no idea if I’ll get into trouble for killing Corby. It’s clear that I was attacked. I have bruises and scrapes over my body and the slap across the face has caused a huge bruise across my cheek as well as swelling. I look like I was hit by a baseball bat. Something that isn’t surprising if you have seen Corby in action.

  I know we’re going to be stuck here for a few hours, waiting for Allan to read through everything we have. As he confirms what he’s reading, he scans the documents onto his computer, slowly uploading things to his website. I could leave now, could trust that things will keep getting leaked, but I need to be here. I need to be sure that Charlie and Rose are safe.

  So I sit on the couch next to Will and lay my head on his shoulder. I’ve stayed close to Will this entire time, still feeling the dread that I felt seeing him dead. He wants to go to Ohio after this, and I need to go back home to Boston. Mom needs to see me just as much as I need to see her, and it’s time I said my goodbyes to Dana. I also owe Drew a huge apology and need to make sure he’s doing okay. That scene I saw of him and Charlie wasn’t overly promising.

  I close my eyes, already hearing Will’s soft breathing while he sleeps. It’s almost morning and none of us slept on the car ride here. I’m exhausted, and it’s not long before I fall asleep, thinking about Charlie and Rose.

  “How are you doing?” Rose asks Charlie. It’s the first time I’ve heard Rose speak in a dream that isn’t fake. It brings a smile to my face, even if her words are said in concern. I gaze at Charlie and know why she’s worried. He looks like a mess. I don’t know where we are, but we’re in an apartment. If I could take my eyes off them longer than a few seconds to look around, then I might be able to figure out whose apartment, but instead, I just stare at them both.

  “How do you think I’m doing?” he snaps at her.

  “Look, I know it’s hard,but—”

  “But what? But I should get over it? But I should move on?” He throws his arms in the air angrily.

  “I’m not saying that—”

  “But you think I should, right? It’s been two fucking months and it might as well have been ten minutes since I lost her.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie. I wish I could make this better.”

  “You know she dreamt about that fucking fire. It was when she was in the hospital and they ran those stupid tests. She must have known what was going to happen and she didn’t do anything to stop it. She didn’t warn me.”

  “You don’t know that Zoe saw what was going to happen to her or Will. If she could have stopped it, if she could have saved him, she would have. You know that.”

  “Why couldn’t she have dreamt about this whole fucking mess before we met? Why couldn’t she have made sure I didn’t fall in love with her? Do you know what else she dreamt that same day that she saw the fire?”

  Rose sighs, almost like she’s afraid to ask, but she does anyway. “No, what?”

  “She saw the day I die. She said I must have been in my eighties, if not older. So I’m just expected to live the next sixty years without her now?”

  “It’ll get easier with time.”

  “And what if it doesn’t? What if how I’m feeling right now is as good as it’s going to get? What if I’m stuck in this horrible place for the next sixty years?”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say here. This isn’t Zoe’s fault. She loved you and she wouldn’t want you to be like this. You need to stop feeling so angry, Charlie.”

  “Well, it’s a bit hard to stop feeling so angry when I’m surrounded by soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. fucking happy.”

  Anger flares in Rose’s eyes. “So you want out of this wedding then? You want to give up being Dean’s best man and leave us in the lurch a few days before our wedding? You want to shut everybody out and be a miserable person for the rest of your life? Grow up, Charlie. I know how much Zoe meant to you and I know you’re still upset, but just deal with it already. This angry, bitter routine you’ve got going is getting old. We all get that you’re miserable and unhappy, but how about you put someone else’s needs ahead of your own for a second and think about how we all feel. We lost her, too, you know, and we’re dealing with that on our own. We don’t throw it in each other’s faces like you do.”

  “If you don’t want me in your wedding, then I can leave and not come back.”

  “You know I would love to not have you in my wedding, but for some reason Dean thinks you’re his friend—even though you’re clearly not—and he wants you to be there. So you can either prove me right and fuck off, or prove Dean right and be his friend. Either way, learn to get over yourself because I don’t care anymore.” Rose throws her hands up at Charlie and storms away from him, slamming a door shut loudly behind her.

  I glance at the door in shock, angry that Rose is giving up on Charlie so easily. He’s in pain and I made her promise she would be there for him no matter how he acted towards her. I glance around the apartment, finally ready to take in what is surrounding us. Boxes are still everywhere and Dean and Rose’s names are written over them. Obviously it’s Rose’s apartment. There is a couch made up as a bed and I assume Charlie has been staying here. On the dining table just next to me is
an invitation to Rose’s wedding. I’ve already seen this in another dream, which is how I know when the wedding is. The fact that the wedding is this weekend and in this dream it hasn’t happened yet, it means this is either happening now, or really soon.

  I follow Charlie as he rushes out of the apartment. I want so badly to touch him, to get rid of his pain. I didn’t imagine it would be easy for him, but I never thought it would be this hard. I never imagined Rose’s wedding would affect him so much.

  I watch him stomp down the stairs and, when he reaches the empty street, he fists his hands and lashes out at the building wall. His fists bash into the brick wall repeatedly and he kicks out, too, slamming his body angrily into it.

  “Charlie!” I scream, wanting him to stop. My voice stills him, but I know it’s just a coincidence. I can’t be seen or heard in my dreams.

  He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as a few small tears escape his eyes. He then takes deep breaths and I see his hands are bloody from the impact of the wall.

  “Zoe…” Charlie whispers longingly. My heart breaks all over again hearing my name on his lips.

  “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” I whisper back, wanting with all my being for my hand to be able to feel him, but my hand moves through him. I don’t exist here.

  My body shakes as I heave tears. I turn away from the pain etched on Charlie’s face, unable to look at him any longer.

  Chapter 26 – THE CLOSURE

  Boston, Massachusetts

  June 4th

  I leave Will boarding a bus back to Ohio and Blake catching a fight home. Luckily for him, he found his wallet and ID in Stan’s office. We all took our ID’s with us when we escaped The Windmill except Will who didn’t have an ID card to begin with. Stan must have kept Blake’s. I told them about Rose’s wedding, and our plan is to make it to L.A by Saturday. We’re obviously not invited, but I’m sure Rose won’t mind the surprise. Ocean is heading back to The Ranch to make sure Ethan and Pratt are okay.

  I’ve been listening to the news, and our story is beginning to make the headlines. The destruction at The Ranch has definitely made the news, but no names have been released. They did announce three dead bodies were found, and one critical. I know the critical one will be Pratt. I hope she’s okay. She doesn’t deserve to die.

  We’ve seen a few people being arrested, most I don’t know, but the one I have recognized is Talon. His name wasn’t known when the news reporter was lucky enough to get footage of him being taken away, however I could feel the tension leave Will’s body. I hope the man never is let out. Life in jail doesn’t come close to justice for Will, but it’s a start.

  Allan gave me an old car, saying it was the least he could do for getting his website half a million hits in just under six hours. The news online is spreading a lot faster than the media on the radio or TV, but that’s apparently normal.

  It takes me about eight hours to drive back to Boston and, as I head towards familiar streets, my nerves shoot up. My pain over losing Dana grows stronger with every turn I take. I know I said in my letter to Drew that his door will be the first stop I’ll make, but I can’t resist going home first.

  I take the same streets I’ve driven a million times and pull up in front of my house. It’s getting dark out, but I can’t miss the unmistakable ‘For Sale’ sign out front. I definitely can’t ignore the ‘Sold’ sticker over it.

  Mom sold the house? Is she still living here?

  My heart drops thinking I might not even get to see Mom yet. I might need to go looking for her. Tears threaten to fall, but I hold them back. I know her friends, I know where she works. I can still find her easily, I reason with myself.

  Only moments later, I watch her car pass my parked car and head into the driveway.

  I sigh in relief that she hasn’t moved out yet. She gets out slowly, carrying some shopping bags. She then juggles them and moves towards the front door before letting herself inside and closing the door behind her. I’m in shock to finally be seeing her. She looks different; older. I suddenly feel like I’ve been gone longer than just over a year. I feel like I’ve missed out on everything.

  I want to go to her, but I’m scared. Afraid of how she’ll react; afraid of what I’ve become. Will she know I’m different? Will she know I’ve killed someone? Is it obvious?

  I look down at my lap, looking at Frank’s letter to me.

  Another complication.

  Do I tell her about Frank? I had decided in D.C. not to, but does she deserve to know? Even if it means it’ll break her heart to hear it? It broke my heart to know how he deceived us. Yet, in the end, he really did love us; he gave up his life to try to do the right thing. Doesn’t Mom deserve to hear that, too?

  No. Hearing it will only upset her and she already lost Frank, there isn’t any point in letting her lose him again.

  I turn the envelope in my hand and look at the open back. Already it’s crinkled and bent from the attack I suffered while it was in my back pocket and from being moved to Ethan and Blake’s hands no doubt. I should probably be treating this like it’s a check for a million dollars or something. It is after all the final words I’ll get from Frank. I should be cherishing this, right? I definitely shouldn’t be dreading the thought of reading it.

  I know that I have to read it now. I can’t bring this into my life once I knock on that door. I need to hear his words and then let him go.

  So, gathering the strength I haven’t known I possessed, I lift the letter and open it up, seeing Frank’s handwriting.

  I take a deep breath.

  Another one.

  One more.

  Dear Zoe,

  If you are reading this, then it means I am no longer able to help you. I finally did what I should have done years ago and looked over our accounts. I noticed immediately that the money we were spending didn’t match what our grants were. I dug deeper, and I’m ashamed to say it was right there in front of me. I have no excuses for you. I am in fact the monster you feared I was. I was too far gone to see it.

  I never meant to hurt you, to hurt my country, but I have done so. I only hope that I’m not too late to help you. If you get this letter, then I have been killed. If that is the case, then I can no longer ensure your safety. You need to get away from here as fast as you can, but first you need some leverage.

  Stan’s office will have what you need. Get in there, and get away from this place. The code changes daily, however Parker or Ocean should have no problem getting through. He keeps his important documents in the safe behind his filing cabinet. The combination to that is 05-21-12. There is also a false base in his bottom desk drawer. Take it all. Do with it what you must to ensure your safety.

  I take another deep breath and wipe away a few stray tears. I feel the urgency in his words and I have to remind myself that I did get out of there; that Stan and Martha are dead. I look back at the page and continue reading.

  I’m not only sorry for what I’ve put you through with P.A.G.E., but also what I did when I left you and your mother. I was never meant to get that close to you both. My assignment was to befriend your father and keep an eye on you. When I met your mother, everything changed. I’ve never known someone to make my heart race like that, to cause me to lose my voice so badly that I had to stutter my way through our first conversation. I knew then and there that I loved her. I have never stopped loving her. I’m sorry I broke her heart, please look out for her. She deserved so much more than what I was able to give her.

  I don’t know after everything I’ve done if I’ll be let into Heaven, but if I am, then know I’ll be watching over you both. I never wanted to be a father, but you were so easy to love. I wanted the world for you. I wanted to protect you and never did I want to leave you. I watched your life from afar, and I would give anything to go back in time to change that. I wish I never left. I wish I didn’t fail so badly. I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m sorry.

  This might not mean much, however I’m so proud of you. You’re st
rong, smart, beautiful and resilient. You’re everything I hoped you would grow up to be and more.

  I hate to leave you with so much still to do, but I know you will do the right thing. I know I can trust you.

  I only ask for two things in return. Stay safe and find happiness in your life. I want to look down at my beautiful girl and see that magnificent smile of yours.

  Love always,

  Frank

  I cry reading his words. They’re words I didn’t know I needed to hear. I cry for the man I lost and mourn the sacrifice he made. I then dry my eyes, eager to see Mom. I need to see someone who loves me, who can give me a hug and tell me everything will be okay.

  I step out of the car, not bothering to lock it, and then walk quickly to my front door. I don’t give myself time to think before I knock loudly.

  Mom takes her time to answer it and, when she finally does, I think she’s going to faint at the sight of me.

  It takes two stiff drinks, a box of tissues and several hugs to get through what exactly happened to me. By the end, I’m exhausted. The worst part has been explaining the visible bruises over my face. While she has been distraught at the sight of them, I’d completely forgotten about them. They hurt, but I’ve gotten used to the pain.

  When my explanation is finally over, I sit back, wanting to fall asleep and not wake up for several days. Instead, I take note of the bare room around me. Most everything is gone.

  “You’re selling the house?”

  She sniffles, still crying over my story. “Yes.”

  “Why? I mean what about Frank…?” I trail off, needing to swallow passed a large lump in my throat over the mention of him.

  “I realized when you ran away, or at least, when I thought you ran away, that I hadn’t done a very good job at showing you a healthy way to grieve. I’ve never let go of Frank and I let my grief eat me up inside. I ran away from dealing with it so of course you ran away, too. It was a wakeup call. I went through his things and cleared them out. I saw a grief counselor and began to understand the ways I used to cope and the effect that must have had on you. I know I wasn’t there for you for a lot of things and I allowed Dana’s friendship to become a lot more to you. She became your constant family and I was just someone who appeared occasionally in your life. I’m so sorry for that.”