by J. L. Drake
I slowly stepped toward him and opened my hand to show him the cuffs.
“Props.”
He pulled his shirt off and let it fall on the floor, and then moved into me. He slid his hands along my sides and closed his eyes. I breathed in and started to walk toward the bed. He sat on the edge, and I moved between his legs. I ran my hands through his hair and pushed him back on the mattress. He shifted on his arms toward the pillows. I grinned as I crawled over his lean body, hovered over him, and allowed him to feel my heat. His stomach flexed beneath me. I angled my lips over his. When he moved his head up to meet mine, I moved back. I softly kissed his neck while I swirled my tongue around in circles.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he moaned.
“Oh. Am I?” I played innocent, but I saw him catch my smirk.
Suddenly, his hands gripped my hips and he flipped me over in one quick motion and straddled me. Before I could even react, he snapped the cuffs on and held my arms above my head.
“My turn.” His eyes darkened with need.
***
I woke up to the hot sun draped over me through the open window and the soft, steady sound of water dripping. I saw the handcuffs lying on the chair and wondered what Seth would think the next time he arrested someone. This made me grin. As I rolled over to find an empty bed, my fingers stretched out and grabbed the collar of Seth’s dress shirt. I pulled it over my head and hunted for my swim suit.
The smell of coffee had me up and in a daze as I entered the brightly lit kitchen. Cups had already been laid out, along with some bagels and pastries. I pulled a piece off of a cheese croissant and popped it in my mouth as I poured my coffee. I noticed Davis was outside and decided to join him.
“Morning.”
“Hey, Em. Beautiful day, huh?”
“Very. Where are the guys?”
Davis pointed to the driveway. “They went into town to pick up a few things. The storm did some damage to the shed.”
I saw the door was off its bottom hinge and a window was shattered.
The sun started to heat things up, and my joints felt stiff from last night’s activities. Worth every moment.
“I’m going to go for a swim.”
His face twisted. “Um…” He looked around. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine.”
I tossed my hair into a messy bun and grabbed my sunglasses and my phone for music. I walked out onto the wharf, unfolded my towel, and placed my stuff on top. I took a moment to take in the view. This place really was spectacular. A hawk circled the sky above me, while the chirp of a baby bird cried up in a tree.
I broke the smooth water as I dove in. It felt divine. I opened my eyes and swam for as long as I could. It was peaceful as I watched the murky ground beneath me fly by with each stoke of my arms. Tiny fish moved right along with me as they weaved in and out of the lake grass. They disappeared and reappeared in a flash.
When I popped up and looked at the shore, I was pretty far out. Davis had moved closer to the wharf. I waved and started to swim back when I saw a car drive up. I stopped and squinted. The sun glared down on me. I raised my hand over my eyes to get a better look. I saw someone get out and look all around. Davis glanced at me and then approached the man.
They spoke for a few minutes, shook hands, and then they walked down to the wharf. Davis waved at me to let me know it was all right to come over. I started to swim toward them.
When I was still a few yards away, I heard a shout, and I saw the man lunge toward Davis. He grabbed him across the chest. It looked like he had a gun. I froze. What the hell was going on?
“You come to the dock, Emily, or I’m going to blow his head off!” the man yelled.
Davis shook his head no. He mouthed, “Swim!”
I didn’t know what to do. Davis slowly shifted his eyes to his hand. The man kept watch over his shoulder. “Come on!” he screamed at me.
Davis stuck out three fingers and mouthed, “Swim!” again.
I nodded to show him I understood what he wanted me to do. He started one finger, two fingers…On three, he elbowed the man in the gut, sending him back and making him release Davis.
“Go, Emily!” he screamed. His words seemed to echo off the mountains. Davis kicked the man and knocked him backward. The man got back to his feet and lunged at him. I turned, took a deep breath, and ducked under the water.
I swam as fast as I could. I tried to get my brain to focus to keep my legs and arms in unison as they bolted through the water. I held my breath till my lungs were about to burst and my vision became blurry. I came up quickly and took a huge gasp of air, then turned to see where I was. I was almost to shore on the other side.
Finally, my feet touched the ground, and I ran up a hill and into the woods. I came to a cabin a short distance away. I looked in the windows, but no one was home, so I reached around and found a rock. I gripped it tightly in my hand and smashed a window.
I heard a gunshot a distance away. It traveled through the woods and hit me like a brick. “Oh my God, Davis,” I whispered, a wave of sickness coming over me. Please, he can’t be dead!
“Come on!” my braver side shouted at me. “Move, McPhee.” She basically slapped me back to reality.
I reached up and pulled myself through the window. I felt a sharp pain in my calf and fell to the floor where blood formed a small puddle under me. “Shit,” I whimpered as I covered it with my hands.
I looked around. My heart pounded in my ears as I stood up and held onto a chair for support. It looked like people were here; there were clothes scattered about, along with the smell of freshly used sunscreen. I hobbled over to the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it tightly around my leg.
I moved into a bedroom, slipping a few times on the hardwood floor from my wet feet. I left blood and muddy hand and foot marks wherever I touched. I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there. I tore through the closet as I looked for something to wear. I finally found a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I shoved them on.
I pulled too hard on the bedside drawer, and it fell to the floor and spilled its content everywhere. I dropped to my knees, and my hands fumbled for…something. I sobbed when I came across a cell phone and some bullets. I looked all around for the gun. “Come on…” I hissed. My shaky fingers ran along the bottom of the bed, then inside the bedside cabinet…I came up empty.
Suddenly, I heard voices. I scrambled to the doorway and peeked outside. Shit. I grabbed the phone and opened the back window carefully. I flung both my legs out and jumped. The impact hurt, but I made it to my feet and ran.
***
Seth
Garrett and I pulled up to the cabin. We had started to take the bags out of the trunk when we caught sight of Davis crawling up the hill toward us. Garrett dropped his bag and went running over. “Davis, what happened?”
I pulled out my gun and ducked down to the ground, my eyes scanning the area.
I watched Garrett pull Davis’s arm away from his body, trying to find the bullet hole.
“Emily,” Davis spat out. “She swam across the water.” He pointed. “He’s after her! He thought I was dead. He’s in a dark blue Camry.”
I bolted over. “Is he all right?” I asked Garrett.
“Gunshot to the shoulder.” Garrett’s words were rushed.
Davis grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Garrett looked at me, terror written all over his face, and I was sure mine looked the same. “He said she swam across the lake over there. But the guy went after her.”
I shook my head and tried to get my thoughts in order. “Get him some help. You’ll be okay, Davis. Just hold on.”
I jumped in the car. My hands shook as I tried to put the key in the ignition. I tossed the gear in reverse and floored it down to my neighbor’s cabin.
When I reached their driveway, I noticed people were outside. Some were on their phones.
An older man in a red hunting jacket swiftly walked up. “Seth, we’re so glad you
’re here. We’ve had a break-in.” He pointed to the window.
“Did you see anyone?”
The man shook his head. “But Tracy did.”
His daughter came up. “I saw a girl in my mom’s clothes running into the woods. She must have cut herself, because there’s blood all over the window and house.”
“Stay here,” I ordered as I ran into the house and looked around. I saw where she had cut herself. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but enough to know she’d be hurting. Oh, baby, where are you?
I waved the older man to come inside. “Anything else missing?”
The shaken man looked around at the smeared, bloody handprints and followed them into the bedroom. He moved to the bedside table and bent down, picking a bullet off the floor. Making a face, he pushed aside the mess of papers and random knickknacks. Then he shifted his weight forward and felt behind the night stand.
“She didn’t find my gun. But my cell phone is gone.”
I looked out the window where Emily had jumped. “I’m going to need the number.”
The man wrote it down and then eyed me. “Should we be worried?”
“No.” I walked out and left the family to clean up the mess. That was the least of my worries.
I slammed the car door and started to drive down the road. I quickly texted the number.
Unknown Number: Em, find the road and I’ll pick you up.
***
Emily
I had a death grip on the cell phone that lit up and vibrated my hand. I flipped it open and my heart jumped. Seth! I went to text back, but then I stopped myself. What if it wasn’t really him?
Emily: What did you whisper to me about Davis’s bet?
I waited for the reply.
Unknown Number: I would have bet all day.
I was so relieved, my fingers fumbled as I tried to calm down enough to remember Seth’s cell number by heart. Finally, I hit send and waited three rings before I heard his voice.
“Em, where are you?” His tone was sharp. I could tell he was terrified.
“Seth!”
“Emily, tell me where you are.”
“Umm, I’m not sure.” I stood up and looked around. “I think I’m pretty deep in the woods.”
There was a pause. “Can you hear anything?”
I listened. My heart pounded so loudly it was hard to focus. I heard a twig snap off to one side, and I saw a few branches move.
“Em?” Seth asked impatiently.
My breathing stopped as I slid back down to the ground and slowly leaned against a tree. “Seth, I don’t think I’m alone,” I whispered as tears started to gush down my cheeks.
“Emily.” He paused helplessly. “Listen to me. Get down on the ground.”
“I can hear footsteps,” I nearly sobbed. My skin was hyperaware that something was coming.
“Focus, baby. I’m going to honk my horn. Tell me if you can hear it.”
I listened and heard a car horn beep three times.
“Yes! Yes, I can hear it,” I whispered. The footsteps stopped.
“Em, face toward where you heard the horn. When you look at the sun where is it to you?”
“Ahh,” I looked up. “It-it’s in front of me.” A panting sound found me from the right. I slowly looked in that direction. “Ohhh-myy.” I felt my whole body tighten. “I s-s-see a pit bull.” My heart tripled in beats as panic shot through me like a bullet. “He’s staring at me.”
I heard Seth’s car door slam through the phone.
“Hold still. Don’t move, baby. I’m coming in now.”
The phone shook in my hand. “Seth, if anything happens to me, just know I—”
“You’re going to be fine, baby. I’m almost to you.”
Suddenly, the dog bolted toward me. I screamed and felt someone cover my mouth with something damp. The phone slipped between my fingers and the sun became blinding.
Everything went black.
***
Seth
I screamed, “Emily!” as my feet beat along the forest floor. Nothing registered as my stomach fought for room in my throat.
There was a strange noise, and then someone breathed into the phone. “You lose, Officer Connors,” a voice purred. The line went dead.
I braced myself against a tree in shock. I fumbled while I dialed. “Garrett, he has her. I was so close, but he got her!” I suddenly heard a noise and raised my gun and scanned the trees. “Call it in!”
Within forty-five minutes, there was a whole army of people on the scene. Search dogs, helicopters, rangers, and everyone else who could possibly be of help had shown up. Detective Michaels came over and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Connors, I’m so sorry. We’ll find her.” I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. I lost her. I was so damn close, but I lost her.
Johnnie came up and handed me a bag that had my vest and badge inside. I nodded and started to suit up. I needed to keep my shit together or Sarge would pull me from the case.
Garrett handed me my .40 caliber and a radio. “Let’s go find her.”
The Sergeant stood next to a makeshift table. “All right, listen up.” Everyone stopped and turned their attention to him. “First, thank you all for responding so quickly and for letting the Orange Police Department take over the reins. We know this is out of our jurisdiction and we appreciate the cooperation. This is a family member we’re looking for, so understand it’s going to be extra sensitive.” He paused and took a moment to let that last part sink in. “As of 8:43 a.m., Emily McPhee, age twenty-two, was abducted from somewhere in this fifty-foot area. There has been no contact with her in two hours.”
As we listened to the sergeant’s plan, Garrett squeezed my shoulder. “We’ve got this!” he whispered into my ear. I nodded at him and turned my attention back to the sergeant as he finished up.
“All right, men, this is personal. You know what to do.” He looked at me. “Let’s get her back.”
The End
About the Author
J. L. Drake was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, later moving to Southern California where she now lives with her husband and two children.
When she is not writing she loves to spend time with her family, travelling or just enjoying a night at home. One thing you might notice in her books is her love of the four seasons. Growing up on the east coast of Canada the change in the seasons is in her blood and is often mentioned in her writing.
An avid reader of James Patterson, J.L. Drake has often found herself inspired by his many stories of mystery and intrigue. She hopes you will enjoy her books as much as she has enjoyed writing them.
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Website:
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http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8300313.J_L_Drake
Have You Seen This Girl?
Flocksdale Files, Book One
By Carissa Ann Lynch
Prologue
Present Day
I lost my straw three hours ago, which sucks because it was my favorite one. Getting up to look for it seems like a painstaking, insurmountable task right now, but I pull myself up to a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The “bed” is nothing more than a dingy, rust-colored mattress that lies on the floor of a two-room basement apartment in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The threadbare carpet that covers the floor provides no support for my feet, and frankly, it stinks. I get down on my knees and lay my face flat against the carpet, holding my breath and peering under an ancient, stained armchair and the dresser that stands beside it. Now, where the fuck is that straw?
All I can see are dust bunnies, mouse droppings, and the carcass of a cockroach. No straw. I let out a frustrated groan. I give up searching, stand back up, and pad across the hall to the tiny bathroom I share with my current boyfriend,
Michael, or “Mick” when he thinks he’s cool. I plop down on the toilet, running my hands through my tangled mop of greasy black hair.
I wait for the pee to come. Then wait some more. I can remember one of my old AA mentors, telling me once why opiates interfere with bodily functions like peeing, for instance. It was something about wires in the brain getting crossed…I wish I had a stopwatch to time this affair, but then it finally comes and I let out a sigh of relief.
Mick’s clothes from the night before are strewn across the bathroom floor at my feet. Suddenly I have a thought, and begin rummaging through the pockets of a brown pair of khaki shorts that I remember him wearing last night. I find what I’m looking for: a tattered black wallet, worn out from age and being sat on all day long. I open it up and peer inside. It only contains two dollars, but that’s fine by me—all I need is one.
Pulling out the faded, crumpled bill, I smooth it flat against the round edges of the wash basin. Once flattened, I begin slowly rolling it into a perfectly cylindrical mini-version of my straw. It’s basically perfect.
The dope is in my bedroom drawer, along with my razor. Using the tiny blade, I lovingly chop the heroin until it is fine and powdery, and then use the rolled up dollar bill to suck it straight up my nose. Its taste hits the back of my throat instantly and drains down through my sinuses, a sensation I used to loathe but have grown to love.
Wiping the residue from my nose noisily with the back of my hand, I glance at Mick, who is still passed out on the bed. Getting high makes him sleepy, but it fills me with an insatiable need to do something productive.
Our bedroom is dotted with tiny land mines of crumpled t-shirts, inside-out jeans, and day-old panties. I make my way around the room, picking them up and tossing them all into a wicker laundry basket in the corner.