Look After You (35 page)

“
What if the kill is warranted as an emergency?”

“I’m gonna
’ pretend I didn’t hear that, but I’m sure that would be justifiable in the court of law.” He winks, in a way that says he would back his buddy up if I shot Avery accidentally on purpose, in a feigned emergency but without actually saying the words.

I bare the pistol within the palm of my hand, feeling the weight of it. I check the
ammunition in the magazine release and check the safety. It’s only when I put it away in the back pocket of my jeans, do I notice the shocked look on Caleb’s face.

“Holy shit, you own a gun?”

I shrug my shoulders as though it isn’t a big deal, while Darnell laughs at the side of me. “Relax, Caleb, I have a gun permit. It isn’t like I carry it everywhere with me; I keep it locked up at the range.”

He stares at me like I have suddenly gr
own two heads. “Is this some kind of Texas thing I won’t understand?”

“No,
Caleb, it isn’t,” I groan, my patience quickly wearing thin with him. “I usually just use it to blow some steam off at the range now and again, but occasionally it’s necessary when a psychopath abducts my fucking girlfriend.” Immediately I feel terrible for speaking to him like shit, but I don’t apologize, I just press on with the issue at hand.
 
“Okay, so what’s the plan of action?” I ask Darnell.

“For now? We just sit and wait.”

I almost pummel his pretty black face in. “Sit and fucking wait? Are you serious?”

“We don’t have any leads
, Ash, she could be anywhere. If we begin a search now, we’d just be clutching at straws. We need to be smart and let the authorities do their thing.”

“No! I can’t just sit here while that monster is doing God knows what to her! I need to find her, I can’t just fucking sit here and do nothing!” I’m losing my mind. The anger that is swirling around my body is almost at the explosive end of the spectrum and I am moments away from losing my shit. Darnell grips hold
of my arms, almost shaking the crap out of me.

“I love you, bro, but you need to cool the fuck down. I have the best guys doing what they can, and I mean the best. I may only be ATF, and kidnap sure as hell isn’t my area of expertise, but I have contacts in all the right places. We will find her, I will promise you that and the moment we find a location we will be out of here like a bat out of hell, but for now we need to sit tight.” With a fierce glare, he grips hold of my face with both hands. “And as for that motherfucker, it ain’t over until he’s in a fucking body bag.” He slams a brotherly kiss
on the top of my head, then he pats my cheek a couple of times before pulling away.
 
“Now get your balls out and stop being a fucking pussy.”

He is right, I a
m being a pussy, but the moment I met Ava, she had me whipped. God, baby, please be okay.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ava

I stir from my sleep as an intense pain ricochets across my head, awakening me from my confused stupor and it feels as if I have been hit by a freight train. My eyes flicker open to a dimly lit room, indicating nighttime has fallen. I squint through my heavily lidded eyes as I try and focus on my surroundings, my mind a muddled haze as I try to piece the puzzle together.

I try to stretch my aching limbs, but the sharp welts that cut into my skin are a painful reminder of my current nightmare from hell. My head pounds excruciatingly as I try to fight back the tears
, and that’s when I register my naked body shred of its clothes, still tied and bound to the bed, with only a bed sheet covering me from the waist down. As I strain my neck, I feel violated and raw when I notice an empty condom wrapper beside my bare feet and my stomach churns heavily as the memory of my clothes being ripped from my body before the black out fills my mind. I have just enough time to turn my head to the side before I vomit violently on the mattress. A cold sweat covers my entire body as my stomach continues to churn, and the pungent smell of vomit fills my nostrils, as I empty the entire contents of my stomach. Spitting the last bits of vomit from my mouth, I turn away and close my eyes, taking slow methodic breaths to ease the abrasive stitch that is contracting along my diaphragm and my shoulders. I can hear the sound of the bastard’s footsteps, and I can’t help but shift away from his voice, my eyes filling with tears, my heart thumping hysterically in my chest.

“Shit, Ava, I leave you for one minute, and you vomit everywhere.”

Unable to open my eyes through my lethargic haze, I hear his footsteps retreat further away from me, the sound of a faucet running and then the sound of his footsteps returning. My entire body clams up when I feel something wet and cold brush along my naked shoulder.

“I’m just cleaning you up,” he says in a soft, almost-loving voice; the opposite of his angry rage from earlier. I hesitantly open my eyes to see him cleaning up the vomit beside my face and against the mattress with a damp towel. He smiles down at
me when he notices I am looking up at him. The smile alone is enough to send a chill along my spine. My bottom lip trembles once the brutality of my situation hits me.

Sobbing I ask, “Why are you doing this?”

The softness of his eyes suddenly turns sinister, and I gulp in fear. “Because I’m taking back what belongs to me.” I turn to look away from him in disgust, horrified at his words but suddenly he takes hold of my face in a fierce grip, his fingers trembling against my face in anger. “You ran away from me once, Ava, I’m not going to let you go again. You’re mine. Do you hear me? Mine,” he growls into my ear.

“What about your wife, your baby?” Perhaps I have a death wish, but I can’t stop the words from flying out of my mouth.

“She. Left. Me.”

“I’m sorry,” I feign sympathy, but the uncertainty in his eyes tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“What happened?” I probe gently, trying to take away his skepticism, in the hope of calming him into a false sense of security, security that could be the key to me getting the hell out of here, especially now I have spotted his cell phone in the front pocket of his opened shirt.

“Your boyfriend, that’s what happened.”

I blink in confusion. What has Ashton got to do with it? “I don’t…I don’t follow.”

“Well just in case you don’t know which boyfriend I was talking about, try the one you’re currently fucking, you little slut. He beat me up because you couldn’t keep your motherfucking mouth shut.”

I slam my eyes shut as his hand slaps me hard across the face for a second time. My eyes tear up at the sudden trauma. “I…I’m sorry,” I stammer, my cheek developing a pulse of its own. I hiss as I feel the laceration against my cheek, causing the open air to cut through the moist gash.

Then suddenly everything falls into place. The night in Miami when Ashton came back with blood on his hands wasn
’t because he punched a wall at all, it was because he beat my brother up. Fuck…

Avery’s malicious voice interrupts my thoughts.
 
“He’s going to be sorry he ever fucking messed with me.”

A cold chill shivers through me at the promise of his threat. “W-what a-are you g-g-going to d-do?” My heart goes
into red alert as I stutter.

“Nothing for yo
ur little head to worry about.” He taps against my temple with his forefinger, but that does nothing for my cold-blooded panic.

“Please, don’t hurt him, please.”

He ignores my plea for Ashton’s safety and changes the subject. He sits beside me, dropping the vomit-laden towel onto the floor. “So two guys at the same time, huh? I’ve created a little monster in you haven’t I?”

I grit my teeth to stop me from saying something stupid
. Whatever I say will not be beneficial to my current predicament, so there’s no point adding fuel to the fire.

“I must say it was a shock to see you at the funeral with some pretty boy, instead of my old school buddy Sebastian Gilbert. How in the world did that happen anyway? The last thing
I knew was that he OD’d from cocaine, then ten years later he’s shacking up with my baby sister. Small world, huh?” His angry tone doesn’t match the calmness of his words. It’s a dangerous combination. He moves in closer to me, so close I can smell his breath, and I have to fight the urge to heave.
“Who’s the better fuck, me, Sebastian or Ashton
Bailey
?” he says Ashton’s second name with a mocking laugh.

As revulsion swirls around my stomach, I turn away from him, pushing the tears away at his sick and twisted question. “Fuck you,” I snap, not caring about the consequences my words may have.

His sinister chuckle fills the silence. “You have quite the potty mouth on you, don’t you?”

I turn to face him
with a sneer, wishing the death glare I give him could kill him on the spot. “Well I learned from the best.”

After a moment, I glance up at the phone that is peaking out from his pocket, desperate to get my hands on it. I try to adjust my wrists in their constraints, my position starting to border on intolerable.
 
“Is this really necessary?” I question, indicating to the metal handcuffs that are keeping me in place. “They’re really hurting,” I cry, tears pricking my eyes.

“Yes,” he says in a no-nonsense manner.

“Well, can I use the restroom, please? I need to wash the vomit out of my hair, and I need to use the toilet too.” He seems to ponder this for a moment and then much to my relief he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and retrieves a key.

“Okay, I guess, but you’ve got ten minutes.” I moan in relief when my left arm is freed from its restraints, then once my right arm is free I desperately massage my delicate, wounded wrists. I clench my hands, trying to ease the pins and needles that
tingle through them. He frees my ankles from the cuffs, and it’s such a relief to have full control over my body again. He sits me up against the edge of the bed and assists with pulling up my jeans, and putting on my ripped shirt. As I stand up, I purposely fall into him, feigning imbalance and dizziness. He catches me so I don’t fall and I manage to latch onto his phone and discretely pull it from his pocket. My heart is pounding inside my chest, but I manage to conceal my harsh breathing as I slowly bring my hand down the side of my body and successfully place the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, without Avery’s knowledge. I pull away from him with a shaky breath.
“Sorry, I lost my balance.”

His eyes trace my face for a moment and for a split second I think he
’s figured out my plan, but he directs me to the restroom. I almost sag with relief when I enter the bathroom, but I keep it contained. Suddenly feeling a little light headed, I take a seat on the toilet, placing my head within the palm of my hands, taking a soothing deep breath. I glance up to see him stood in the middle of the bathroom, with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well get to it then.” Shit, he doesn
’t expect me to pee and shower in front of him, does he?

“Can I have some privacy, please?” He seems a little skeptical at my request, and I quickly add, “It’s not as if I can go anywhere is it?” I indicate to the windowless bathroom. “Please?” I beg. He nods.

“Fine. Ten minutes!” he barks, and storms out, slamming the door shut. I inwardly take a breath of relief and rush up from the toilet seat to quietly lock the door. My heart is thumping furiously against my chest when I turn the shower on to block out any noise. I take the phone from my pocket, and fumble, praying it hasn’t got a passcode on it when I unlock it. Instead it has a surveillance type picture of me and my stomach threatens to spill again when I realize it was taken from inside my apartment, only days ago. Holy shit.

I mentally slap myself, and I force my eyes away from the b
ackground image, to concentrate on the job at hand. I only have nine and a half minutes left, and I really do need to shower. I lean against the edge of the bathtub and quickly type in Caleb’s number. I would call Ashton, but I don’t know his number off by heart.

My legs are
twitching with apprehension as I wait for the call to connect and I can’t keep my eyes from glancing to the door even though I locked it. My heart pounds with horror as I think of all the bad scenarios that would happen to me if Avery caught me right now.

Caleb answers on the first ring and my heart breaks when I can hear the obvious distress in his voice.
“Hello?”

“Caleb, it’s me,” I whisper through a shuddering cry.

“Ava, fuck, are you okay, where are you?” I am about to answer when I hear a ruffled commotion on the other side of phone, and for a moment I think the call may have dropped, but to my relief Ashton’s voice fills the phone and my eyes fill with more tears.
“Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s that bastard done to you?

With
a trembling breath, I whisper into the phone, my eyes constantly guarding the door, “Yes I’m...okay, just glad to hear your voice.”

“Where are you?” he demands.

“I don’t know, Avery…he...he…brought me to some motel. Where’s Lily, is she safe?” I swear, if he…