Discovered (24 page)

“We’ve already
spoken to the police,” Jay warned. “They’ll be by at any moment to take a full
report. And since you’re trespassing on private property, I won’t be held
accountable if something should happen to you.”

“Ah, but you’re
just out for a romantic walk with your girl,” Robert replied calmly. “So I’m
betting you don’t have your gun with you. And besides, you weren’t really sure
if we’d be able to find Ben Orton’s house, were you?”

Jay made a move to
reach into his jacket pocket, knowing full well that it was empty, but hoping
that they’d buy the ruse.

“No, no, no, Arthur,
I wouldn’t if I were you,” Robert sneered, shaking his head. “While I’m
convinced there’s nothing in there, Sam and Jason just might start opening up.
And while we both know that would probably not affect you so much, you really
don’t want pretty Layla to get hurt…or do you?”

“She has nothing to
do with this,” Jay yelled. “Let her go on home.”

“I don’t think so,”
Robert snickered. “In fact, I came for her.”

“You won’t have
her!” Jay blurted out.

“On the contrary,
Arthur, we’re taking her with us.”

Sam and Jason
rushed forth and grabbed Layla by both arms while Jay tried desperately to
fight them off. When Robert joined in the spat, Jay was no match for them.
Robert stuck his hand up the inside of Jay’s jacket and spun him around, while
Sam kicked him full force in the stomach. Jay crumbled to the ground, coughing
uncontrollably.

Robert walked
backward a few feet, smiling smugly at Jay.

 Sam and Jason
lifted Layla up off the ground while she kicked and flailed, and carried her
over to Robert.

Jay jumped to his
feet and made a move to go after them, but then Robert pulled a switchblade
from his pocket and flicked it open. He stood behind Layla and grabbed her hair
by the roots, pulling her head back to expose her throat. He placed the blade
sideways on her neck. “It’s very simple, Arthur. You have eight hours to bring
us the juice, or she gets this.” He slid the blade over her neck gently,
causing a thin red line to appear.

“DON’T!” Jay
yelled, the blood draining from his body.

“That was just a
teaser of the real deal,” Robert replied. “Just a scratch. If we don’t have the
stuff within eight hours, I’ll sever her head from her shoulders and send it to
you in a pretty box complete with ribbons.”

“WHERE!” Jay
bellowed, horrified.

“We’ll be in touch,
so be sure to keep your phone on. In the meantime, I suggest you get moving,”
Robert replied before turning his back on Jay.

Jay walked forward
slightly, just behind them, trying desperately to think of some way to save
Layla. His legs trembled. Turning the bend, he witnessed Sam and Jason shove
Layla into the back of the black fan that was parked on the edge of the sand
where the beach met a small grass slope.

She let out a
piercing scream as they shut the doors, causing every fiber in Jay’s body to
pulsate with rage and torment. He turned on his heels, knowing that he was
helpless to save her, and raced back to the house.

Barreling through
the sliding doors to the living room, Jay fell down on his knees and combed
both hands through his hair, pulling at his roots. “UGH!” he growled at the top
of his lungs, unbearable emotional pain paralyzing him momentarily.

“What?” Issy yelled,
running into the living room.

“They’ve taken
her!” Jay bellowed, looking up at the girl with torment in his eyes. “Robert
and the other two.”

“NO!” Issy moaned,
putting her hand over her mouth.

Ben and Joey walked
in and looked down at Jay, then at Issy. “What happened?” Joey asked with
bulging eyes.

“They’ve taken
Layla,” Issy replied.

“Jay.…” Ben started,
but couldn’t find the words to comfort his friend.

Jay jumped to his
feet and turned a complete circle, his hands still through his hair as if he
was desperately trying to think of a plan. He walked forward slightly and
booted the end table, knocking the lamp flying through the air—glass shattered
all over the floor.

“What are we going to
do?” Joey asked.

Jay stood stock still
and stared at him, and then he narrowed his eyes slightly, reaching around to
the small of his back. “I’m going to give them what they want,” he said flatly.

“Jay.…think this
through,” Joey urged.

Jay held up his
hands. “This isn’t open for discussion,” he stated firmly. “This is Layla we’re
talking about. I will do whatever is necessary to save her life.”

Joey nodded but said
nothing.

“Sebastian?” Jay
said, turning to face Ben with questioning eyes.

Ben nodded also. “I
would do the same for Isabella,” he replied regretfully. “Without a doubt.”

“So you’re all on
board with this?” Jay questioned.

“Yes,” they answered,
one at a time. Issy leaned into Ben, biting on her lip.

“Issy?” Jay pushed.

“Yes, of course,” she
responded.

“And you’re all fully
aware of the implications?” Jay added. “From here on out, we age as God
intended.”

Again, they nodded.

“I need to borrow a
car,” Jay said to Ben. “I need to get back to Connecticut as quickly as
possible to load up the Mercedes.”

“Where are you
bringing the stuff to?” Joey asked.

“They’ll call me with
the details,” Jay replied.

“We’re coming with
you,” Ben stated.

“No!” Jay said
firmly. “You three will stay far away from this. I’ll handle this alone.”

“Jay, we’re going
with you,” Joey argued.

“Don’t doubt for one
second that Robert is incapable of murder,” Jay explained. “He already knows
that bullets can’t kill us. He wouldn’t think twice about chopping off one of
your heads just for effect. In fact, he’s already threatened to do that to
Layla if I don’t meet him when and where he instructs.”

“Where did they come
from?” Issy asked.

“My best guess? They
never went anywhere. They stayed close by and followed us from the field. They
were probably mulling around, waiting to catch one of us outdoors alone,” Jay
answered, loathing himself for being so careless.

Ben left the room but
returned seconds later. “Take the Ferrari,” he said, throwing the keys to Jay.

Jay nodded. He walked
over to the far end of the living room and opened a drawer in the console that
held a wedding picture and many small ornaments. He pulled out a handgun and
shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket after checking the magazine. In
the opposite pocket, he placed a switchblade knife. He picked his Ray Bans off
the entertainment unit and walked back over to Ben, Issy and Joey. “I’ll be in
touch,” he said.

Issy flung her arms
around his neck. “You take care,” she said, her eyes misting over. “You come
back to us in one piece, you hear?”

“Good luck, man,” Ben
said, hugging him when Issy had moved away.

“My brother,” Joey
said in a soft, emotional voice, taking his turn to hug Jay.

Jay tapped Joey on
the back momentarily. “I’ll be alright,” he assured him.

He decided against
taking the ferry over to Connecticut. He needed to keep moving at all cost. The
nearly two hours standing still would be his undoing.

Luckily, when he
maneuvered onto the Long Island Expressway, the road was unusually empty
considering the throngs of traffic, almost at a standstill, going in the
opposite direction. And then he remembered what day it was, the day before
Thanksgiving. People were more than likely heading away from the city rather
than toward it.

He put on his
sunglasses to cut down the glare of the sliding sun. He fiddled with the radio
until he found a station playing classic rock, settling on one just as his
favorite Eric Clapton song began. He chuckled once bitterly, the warped irony
not lost to him—at that moment, Layla really did have him on his knees.

He turned up the volume
as loud as he could stand it and leaned back in his seat. Gripping the steering
wheel with his right hand, he straightened his arm out fully, then, gritting
his teeth, he floored the pedal.

Layla

Layla lay in the back
of the hard, dirty van, her arms tied behind her back. Looking forward, she got
an eyeful of Jason’s muck covered work boots.

She pondered trying
to free her hands momentarily until she realized that if she accomplished it,
she would have no way of escaping them anyway.

Her side ached, every
bump from every pothole causing more bruising. She tried to roll over to find
some small comfort, but with the position of her arms, it was nearly impossible
unless she rolled onto her belly first, and with Jason’s feet in the way, that
was a no-go. She gritted her teeth against another jolt from the rough road.

Her heartbeats had
calmed down considerably. She guessed that she’d been in that position for over
an hour and a half, but couldn’t be completely sure. Nobody spoke for ages;
nobody had bothered trying to taunt her further. Robert made a point of driving
home the reality that if Jay didn’t show up when he was expected, this would be
her last day on earth. She didn’t doubt him for a second. He had a cruelty in
his eyes, a darkness that was almost inhumane. She was nearly insane from
mind-numbing fear when they first took off in the van, but as time went on and
all remained quiet, she started to calm down considerably.

She felt her eyes
prickle when she recalled the look in Jay’s eyes, the anguish and torment as
she was being carried away from him, and despite her own terror, her heart broke
for him.

When he proclaimed his
love, all Layla could see before her was a boy, a young man of eighteen years.
Suddenly, the billionaire entrepreneur
was
gone, and with him, the young man who had walked the earth for over five
hundred years in unwavering confidence. There was just a regular teenage boy
trying to tell a girl that he loved her for the first time. And nothing on
earth could have prepared her for the force of the emotions coursing through
her at that moment. She recalled how she touched him and marveled at the beauty
of his face, the strong jaw line, the flawless features wallowing in her hand,
filling her with a rush of sensations she never thought possible.

And then the vile memory
of how their perfect moment, that one chance to feel the bliss of a first and
only love reciprocated, was snatched from them by greed and evil.
Once again, Arthur Vallen vanished, leaving a devastated
boy, a helpless young man in his place. If not for her own sake, she hoped that
she survived the night, knowing what her loss would do to him.

How ironic that she
wanted to live more for someone else’s sake than for her own. Her mom had once
told her that being a mother felt that way all the time, that the only thing
you fear about dying is the pain it would cause the ones you leave behind. She
realized in that moment the depth of her love for Jay. Regardless of what the
heck his name was, or how old he was, the soul incased in that young man’s body
was the most precious thing in the world to her.

Would he even
consider handing over the water from the fountain to save her? Doing so could
be suicide for him, not to mention Issy, Joey and Ben. But that look—that
agonized look—of someone who had just found love for the very first time, and
it was being ripped cruelly from them right before their eyes. As much as her
situation sucked, she felt for the decision he had to make. Deep down, she
hoped he chose life. She hoped he would let her go and move on. It wouldn’t be
fair to hand over the water to save her. As much as she wanted to live, she
didn’t want to live in a world without him.

And then there were
Ben and Issy; no Hollywood movie had ever captured a love affair so beautiful,
so gripping, so strong to have endured time, years of seclusion, unreasonable
and narrow-minded prejudices—it wouldn’t be fair to end their lives in an
attempt to save hers.

But then she thought
of her poor mother. First to lose your husband then your only child, how could
any mother ever bounce back from that? Not to mention the fact that James was
obviously missing and more than likely being held by the same thugs that were
taking her God-knows-where. Her mother may not even have him to comfort her. It
was all too much for one human girl to wrap her head around. She said a silent
prayer and decided to leave it in God’s hands. What was meant to happen would
happen.

At least another hour
had passed before the van finally came to a stop.

When the back doors
opened, Sam climbed in and pulled Layla roughly by the arm. She shimmied forward
on her knees until Jason took her other arm and pulled her upright.

It was nighttime at
that point, but the streets were lit up brightly from the streetlights and the
dozens upon dozens of illuminated windows incased in six-story buildings that
spanned from one end of the long street to the other, all joined together, but
with different entrances.

Layla recognized the
neighborhood instantly.

They walked as
casually as they could to the corner of 34
^th
Avenue in Jackson
Heights, Queens, a gun pointed inconspicuously at her back in case she got a
bright idea of trying to alert one of the many passerby’s to her plight. Would
Robert have been so stupid to take Layla so close to his own home?

When they reached the
corner, they turned left and walked a few more feet before stopping in front of
a stone staircase that led downward.

Robert walked down
the stairs first and unlocked the heavy, metal door with a key he pulled from
his pocket.

Jason and Sam both
looked around to make sure no one would notice them dragging the girl down the
stairs.

They entered a long,
dark, gray hallway that smelled of garbage and laundry detergent.

Pulling Layla
forward, they walked past many doors on both sides until they came to a
standstill at another large metal door in front. Layla knew that they were
crossing from the basement of one building into another.

Halfway down another
hallway, Robert turned left and stopped. He took out his keys again and
unlocked a door, flicking on the light as he entered.

The room was empty
but for a broken washing machine, a mangled bicycle, three metal chairs and a
fold-up table.

“Have a seat, Layla,”
Robert ordered.

She walked forward
and flopped down on one of the chairs just as a dark-gray mouse scurried across
the floor. Layla flinched and tried to hold her feet off the ground, causing
Jason to laugh. “That’s what you’re scared of?” he snickered.

“Don’t like rodents,”
she mumbled.

“Rule number one of
being held prisoner is to never tell the enemy your fears, silly girl,” Robert
gloated. “They will use them against you if need be.”

Layla cursed
inwardly, appalled at her own stupidity. If they started dangling rats in front
of her, she would die on the spot.

“I’m going to head
upstairs to give lover-boy a call,” Robert stated. “Let’s see how much you mean
to him.”

Jason sat on the
table and pulled a box of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his jacket. He
tapped the back of the pack until one jutted forward, and then he grabbed it with
his lips. Lighting the cigarette, he took a long, hard drag.

“Those things will
kill you,” Layla said, trying to break the unnerving silence.

“Won’t matter much
after tonight,” Jason said smugly. “Not if your boyfriend really does care
enough about you to save your life.”

“I have no idea what
you mean,” she lied.

“Really?” Jason
questioned. “You mean he didn’t love you enough to let you in on his secrets.”

“I know who he is,”
she answered smugly. “I know he’s really Arthur Vallen.”

“He’s so much more than
that,” Jason gloated. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Layla picked up on
that little confession immediately. “Maybe you’ve been told wrong,” she said.
“Maybe you’re being led astray by Robert. Have you considered that he might be
pumping you with lies to get you to help him blackmail money from Arthur?”

“Robert wouldn’t do
that,” Jason replied, taking the bait.

“Wouldn’t he?” Layla
pushed. “He didn’t seem too broken up about Manuel.”

Jason’s smug looked
wavered slightly. Layla was about to jump on the opportunity to drive the wedge
in further when Robert walked back through the door, glaring at her.

“Not nice, Layla,” he
said, shaking his head. “No playing games. There will be repercussions for
that.”

“What sort of
repercussions?” she asked, a shiver running up her spin.

“Let’s just say that
you’re a very beautiful girl. It would be a real pity to mess up such a lovely
face,” he replied calmly, sitting down on the corner of the fold-up table.

Layla threw him a
disgusted look.

“Maybe you don’t care
about that, Layla, but think how poor Arthur would suffer seeing your pretty
features all rearranged.”

Jason threw his
cigarette butt on the floor and stomped it out with his boot.

“It’s different for
men,” Robert said reflectively, staring straight at her. “While a woman will
feel deeply saddened when her man is hurt, for a man it’s torture, especially
if the injuries are inflicted by another man. We’re protective by nature, you
see.” He stood up and walked over to her then cupped her face and squeezed her
chin hard, pulling her head up so that she was forced to look at him. “It
induces a sense of helplessness and failure. Nothing wounds a man more than the
failure to protect his woman. It burns deep, makes him question his identity as
a man. Some men never recover from the pain of it.”

Layla pulled away,
causing Robert to laugh. He walked back over to the table and reclaimed his
seat. “And for a man like Arthur Vallen, it would take on a whole new
dimension. Mr. Vallen has the world at his feet, snaps his fingers and things
happen. Imagine the agony that he must be feeling right now, knowing that he
can’t buy his way out of this. My point is, Layla, don’t make this any harder
on him. Don’t add another painful layer to his suffering.”

She nodded
reluctantly.

“Good girl,” he said
condescendingly.

For ages, they sat
around in silence. Jason and Robert chain-smoked while Sam flicked through a
motorcycle magazine. Layla sat clued to her seat, not daring to make a sound.
The less attention they paid her, the better for her physical health.

Robert stomped out
another butt and stood up. He walked over to the wall and rested his hand
against it then sighed deeply. He turned his evil glare on Layla once more.
“So, on the off-chance that your boyfriend decides to bail on you, I’d like to
know where he keeps the stuff.”

“What stuff?” Layla
questioned.

“Don’t play games
with me, Layla. I have ways of making you talk.”

Layla stiffened. Was
this the part where he started torturing her? “I…I’m not playing games,” she
stammered. “What do you mean you have ways of making me talk?”

“You’ll see,” he
replied and walked out the door.

Layla swallowed hard,
instinctively aware that whatever Robert was up to, it was evil. The blackness
in his eyes was animated as he left the room.

To Layla’s complete
horror, Robert walked through the door a few minutes later, dragging a bound,
beaten and bloodied James behind him. He flung James to the floor cruelly.
“Jimmy hired me to steal something from your boyfriend,” Robert began, “after
Manuel had failed him two years ago. But what Jimmy didn’t know is that he was
only a pawn in a much bigger game.” He walked forward and knelt beside her,
leaning into her face. “Don’t you just love irony? The one man who could lead
me to Vallen turns out to be dating the mother of Vallen’s girlfriend. I mean,
what are the odds? So, Layla, where does he keep the stuff?”

“I have no clue what
you’re talking about,” she stammered.

 “Really?” Robert
said skeptically. He stood up and walked back across the floor then kicked
James full force in the stomach, causing the poor man to cough up blood.

“STOP IT!” Layla
screamed.

“Then don’t play
games with me, Ms. Sparks,” Robert jeered. “I want to know where Arthur keeps the
magic water.”

Behind Robert, James
was slowly shaking his head, trying to convey that Layla should tell Robert
nothing.

“What are you talking
about?” she squealed. “This is the twenty-first century. People don’t believe
in magic anymore.”

“Is that so—?”

Whatever Robert was
going to say was cut short by Jason. “Boss, I think there is a possibility that
Vallen didn’t tell her.”

Robert pinched his
bottom lip for a moment and pondered that. “It’s quite possible,” he agreed. He
pulled James into standing position. “In that case, we won’t be needing
him
anymore.”

Layla screamed again,
watching Robert draw a switchblade from his pocket.

James’ eyes widened,
fear flooding them. He managed to struggle from Robert’s grip, and pushed the
hand that held the blade in the other direction, causing Robert to slice his
own hand open. Robert looked at his bloodied hand momentarily then turned his
evil focus on James. He grabbed James by the back of the head and in one move,
shoved the knife into James’ throat.