Promises After Dark (After Dark #3) (27 page)

“He sounds like a great man,” Alex said. After this was over, Alex decided he would put his father to work at Avery, doing some fluff job, overpay him to do it, and set up some investments in his name. It was the least he could do to repay this debt.

“Would you really kill him?” Kyle asked seriously.

“If he touched or hurt her,” Alex murmured in explanation as if it were enough. His heart was slamming against his ribs; his face was infused with heat.

“Wow,” Kyle murmured.

Alex glanced to his right, meeting Kyle’s eyes then back at the road in front of him. “This is going to get bloody. We have to get there and take them out before he knows what hit him, and I’m sure we’re outnumbered. I understand if you don’t want to be part of it.”

Alex slowed down for a tollgate and chose the cash lane. He dug in his pocket, pulled out a roll of bills, and peeled one off. “That will be $2.25 sir,” the woman attendant said.

He handed her a twenty but didn’t wait for change. “Keep it.” By the time the words were out, he was already accelerated to 60 miles per hour and speeding away.

“Of course, I’m in all the way. You warned me this was serious shit, and you weren’t kidding. But, it’s Angel, so I’m in.”

“It keeps getting worse and worse, and unfortunately, I see only that one solution. I’ve tried to convince Angel she needs a new career path.” He sighed heavily and raked his hand through his hair again. “She won’t budge.”

“I never had any luck in that department, either,” Kyle mused, a woeful grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Do her eyes still sparkle when she’s pissed? I remember how beautiful she was when she’s challenged.”

“Very much.” Alex agreed. Jealousy stirred in his gut. Kyle was still in love with Angel but he understood. “Now, please get that radar app up, Kyle.”

Alex’s anxious energy was palpable, and Kyle sensed it. Whatever Mark Swanson said on the phone, Alex was hopped-up as hell. Who wouldn’t be, given the situation? If he hadn’t had proof of Alex’s true feelings for Angel the last time he’d seen them together, it was crystal clear now. Angel wasn’t the kind of woman anyone had superficial feelings for. He’d loved her, too. He doubted he’d ever get over her, and even though it was apparent he’d never have a chance of getting her back, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of Angel and how he’d fucked things up. Retreating into his thoughts, he booted up the app and got it going. “Don’t you want to check on your brother? Tell your folks?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. That’s the next on the list. After the app locates Angel’s phone, I’ll call my parents and get them on a plane.”

“Will this give us an exact location?”

“It works similar to GPS tracking, so it will give a town or area it’s close to on the map but give us driving instruction when we get closer.”

“Cool.”

“Yes. I’d be fucked right now if I didn’t have it. I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with myself.”

“
We’d
be fucked,” Kyle pointed out. There was a double meaning behind it and Alex caught it. He nodded.

“Yes.” Alex inhaled and flexed the fingers holding the steering wheel. “I’d be going crazy if I wasn’t going after her.”

“It’s searching.”

“You’re a much better sport than I would have been. I was never jealous before I met Angel, but now, even the thought of her with you in the past fucks me up.”

Kyle shook his head and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I screwed up. I can’t blame you or Angel for any of it. It’s my own fault she left me.”

Alex paused. “She’s under my skin and in my head; she’s all I think about. If you loved her like that, I imagine it rips your guts out.”

Kyle nodded. “I’m not going to lie, Alex. There will probably always be a part of me that loves Angel. There isn’t anyone like her, but I want her to be happy.” He looked back down at the phone in his hand.

“I don’t get how you could choose that—” Alex paused briefly to choose his words carefully. Crystal was an idiot and she was trashy. Alex couldn’t fathom how Kyle could risk losing Angel over someone like her, “—other woman over her.”

“I was an idiot. Angel wanted to leave the band, and I was sore at her. I was selfish, and I guess I wanted to show her I didn’t need her. It just made it easier for her.”

Alex shook his head. He knew Angel would protect herself and not take bullshit from anyone. Even if she were hurting, she would have straightened her shoulders and told Kyle to his face to go fuck himself. That was Angel, and he loved that about her.

“Forgive me for asking, Alex, since I probably have no right, but what are your intentions with Angel?”

“Easy. I’m going to marry her as soon as she’ll agree.”

“Are you sure she’ll agree?”

Alex knew whatever he said would hurt the other man, and he had no desire to do so. He answered as simply as he could. “I am.”

Kyle nodded. Avery was a commanding asshole; he’d give him that. He wore confidence like an expensive suit. “The app is pointing to a location just south of Houston, Missouri. When you come to Rolla, take Highway 28 South.”

“Thanks. Can you hand me the phone, please?”

Alex’s fingers worked with practiced precision. He didn’t need to look down as he dialed Mrs. Dane first.

“Alexander Avery’s office.” Her voice was cool and professional as always.

“Mrs. Dane, please have the jet ready at O’Hare immediately. Have the pilots file the flight plan for Springfield, Missouri. My parents will be taking it. This is an emergency, so it has to be done right away.”

His voice was contrite, and she’d learned that tone evoked no argument, no questions.

“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you.” Alex ended the call and dialed Cole’s number. He needed an update on Cole’s condition before he called his parents. It wouldn’t do to be ignorant of the situation in the face of their questions.

“Hello?” Becca answered. “Alex, have you found them?”

“I’m working on it. I’m on my way. Any updates on Cole?”

“They won’t tell me anything since we aren’t related.” She started to cry. “The sheriff and the police keep questioning me about it, but I didn’t see any of it happen. I’m so scared for all of them. I’ll just die if something happens to my baby. They keep saying they’ll find them, but I don’t think they will.”

Alex shifted in the leather seat and ran a hand over his face in impatient agitation. He didn’t think they would either. In the week the Chicago police had worked the Bancroft case, they hadn’t found anything, but Alex was beginning to think he’d been too hard on them. Maybe it wasn’t lack of effort but more that Swanson was a slippery son of a bitch. Alex was seeing the situation with new eyes, but he had no idea how to comfort her. “Let me speak to someone, please. A doctor or nurse who knows what’s going on.”

The city had long been left behind, and Alex was speeding down the interstate, passing cars as if they were standing still.

“Okay.” Alex listened to Becca’s tearful plea for someone familiar with Cole’s condition to take the phone. “His brother is on the phone and would like some information.”

“Mr. Avery?” A deep male voice came on the line. “This is Dr. Peters. I was in the ER when they brought your brother in.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s in surgery. He had a gunshot wound to the chest, and he was bleeding badly, so they took him into right away. We were sure one of his lungs was punctured, but it wasn’t clear if there was arterial damage or if it was just a vein that had been severed. I haven’t had an update from the surgery team yet, but it was imperative they get in there and find the source of the bleeding. He was in very serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can.”

Alex swallowed. “Thank you. Please update me as soon as you know anything new. Becca James is a close personal friend of the family, so she can be updated as well. My parents are on their way.”

“I’ll let the staff know to expect them. I’m very sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you, doctor. Please put Ms. James back on.”

“Hello?”

“Becca, I’m going to get Jillian and Angel back. I’ll do everything in my power.” Alex’s throat tightened and started to throb. He swallowed twice, but it wouldn’t ease at all. “Angel is my whole life now, and I adore Bean. I’m going to find them if it’s the last thing I do.” Anguish created physical pain. He’d let his adrenaline run him, and his brain kicked in, methodically planning and carrying out what needed to be done, but his emotions were boiling inside, his heart aching, and memories of Angel played over and over inside his mind.

She sucked in her breath on a sob. “I know, Alex. I’m praying. I’ll keep praying.”

“Me, too. I’m calling my parents now, and they’ll be down there in a couple hours. Just hang on.”

“Oh-okay.” She sniffled. “Thanks, Alex.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Bye.”

“Cole is bad.” Alex muttered to let Kyle know what he’d learned in the briefest way possible. He decided to dial his father’s number. His mother would be a hysterical mess he didn’t have the nerves to deal with. His father could fill in Allison, Josh, and his mother.

“Alex?” his father answered quickly, his voice laced with concern.

“Hi Dad.” There was no easy way to break the news, so he blurted it out. “I’m having the plane meet you at O’Hare. You and Mom, maybe Allison and Josh, need to get to Springfield, Missouri right away.”

“What’s happened?” Charles’ voice was panicked.

“Please remain calm, Dad. This isn’t good, but for Mom’s sake, don’t freak out. Angel and Jillian are missing. Someone hijacked the vehicle while they were getting gas. Becca is fine, she was inside at the time, but Cole was shot.” He inhaled through his nose, waiting for his father to explode.

Surprisingly, he didn’t. “Oh, my God,” he breathed out.

“Yes. It was in some Podunk town in southern Missouri, but they took him by life flight to Springfield. He’s in surgery now, and Mrs. Dane is having the plane readied. Becca is there. I’m going to get Angel and the baby.”

“What the fuck, Alex?” His father’s voice was frantic. “Call the police.”

“Dad, Becca talked to the sheriff’s department, so they know. I have to do something. I can’t wait around for Swanson to kill Angel and Jillian like he did Bancroft.”

“I understand, son.” Charles’ voice was solemn.

“Will you tell Allison and Josh? They may want to come with you.”

“Okay. We’ll come right away.”

Alex heard his mother in the background. “Charles, what is happening?”

“Call me after you get to the hospital.”

“Do you need me to wire any money? Do you need anything?”

Alex shook his head even though his father couldn’t see. “I told you before; I’m not going to pay this fucker off. That hasn’t changed.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

“To take them back. Just—take them back.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not at all, but it is what it is. I’ve had enough.”

16
All or Nothing

It was cold in the basement which had become her prison. Angel’s stomach was rumbling, and Jillian was finally sleeping on the cot and covered up with Angel’s coat. After they’d beaten her on video for Alex’s benefit, they all left her alone. The minute they’d gone, she scrambled back into her clothes.

There was no telling how much time had passed, but it felt like forever. She didn’t have on a watch, and those bastards had taken both her phones. She’d curled up with Jillian, trying to comfort the little one, playing games of itsy-bitsy spider and telling her stories until she fell asleep. Angel assured her Zander would find them, though she herself was frantic with worry. This place was in the middle of fucking nowhere, and she had no clue where “nowhere” was. Alex would try everything possible to find them and spare no expense; she was certain. He might even pay Swanson off, but she knew he would come after her. She was lying on the cot with Jillian and closed her eyes. Her face and body hurt where she’d been hit and where she’d landed when they knocked her to the floor. She forced herself to sit up. She was exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than the blissfulness of sleep, but that would do nothing to get them out of trouble. The time spent contemplating hurt either way. What if she never saw Alex again? Her heart couldn’t bear it.

The light from the one bulb was dim, but she wandered around looking for something she could use as a weapon. There were metal fittings on the cot, but they were small, and she’d find it hard to get a good grip on them. She’d have to be too close in order to wield any real damage to her attackers, which wouldn’t do. She paced around the room, both hands threading together on the top of her head.

If she were alone, it would have been easier to escape, but most likely, she would have been raped by now. She shuddered at the thought. She’d counseled at least a hundred rape victims during her career. Women who had been brutalized and beaten, raped and sodomized, three who had been gang raped. They’d lived through it; damaged forever, but they lived. She knew she would, too.

It was horrible enough to consider the possibility of such an unspeakable act, but more than having to endure it, she couldn’t bear the thought of it coming between her and Alex. He was a real man, one of integrity and purpose, and in her heart, she knew he wouldn’t look at her differently or turn away from her. But… it would rip his heart out. Even if he said he didn’t think about it whenever he touched her, how could he help it? It would torment him because he had been unable to save her from it. And Alex suffering like that would kill her.

She flushed. What was she even thinking about that for? If that happened, she’d be killed. She’d never make it back to Alex. She mentally shook herself. She’d be better off using her energy to figure out a way to escape.

Angel glanced back at Jillian. If Jillian weren’t here, she would fight to the death, but she had to stay alive to get Jillian back to Becca, no matter the consequences to herself. She looked around again. Was there anything in here that might help her get out? The basement was completely empty, save a water heater and furnace. She might be able to pull some of the copper pipe along the ceiling loose, but it would be hollow on both ends, and if she used it to try to stab someone, she would run the risk of it pushing back into her own body. The cot had wooden legs and frame. She considered breaking them, but if one of the creepers came down before she was ready for them, they’d see what she was up to and most likely beat her more, or worse.

The foundation of the house was cinder block and some of the mortar was coming loose. Angel ran her fingers along it and tried to pry a few large pieces loose, but the stuff was so old and rotten, it crumbled into small chunks and dust.

“Damn it!” she breathed out. She stood and ran a hand through her hair again. The door to the basement creaked then opened with another scraping sound. The house was filled with humidity and the door was swollen beyond the confines of its original dimensions, causing it to scrape against the floor every time it opened.

She quickly resumed her position on the cot next to Jillian, sitting close and placing a hand on the sleeping child. The last thing she needed was to have her captors get suspicious about what she was up to. Boots on the stairs appeared, and Angel breathed a silent sigh of relief that it was the young kid. He was carrying a plate and a glass filled with some sort of liquid.

She tried to get a better look at him. He had a missing front tooth, and his brown hair was overly long and greasy. His clothes hung off his thin frame, and though she wasn’t near him, he just looked like he smelled bad. Angel wondered if he was some sort of addict. He leered at her and licked his lips. She was revolted and couldn’t help her grimace.

“Where are the others?” Angel asked.
Was he the only one here?
she wondered.

“Don’t know. Gone to town for supplies, I guess.”

This kid is an idiot
, she thought. He saw her as a small, helpless woman. She was small, but not helpless, especially now that she knew the other two were gone. Angel sized him up, all the while trying not to give him any indication of her intentions.
So there was a town; how far away was it? Did needing supplies mean they were planning on staying a while? Had they contacted Alex?
Her mind flooded with questions.

“How long have I been here?” Her stomach growled painfully.

He walked to her and handed her the plate. It had a peanut butter sandwich and a banana on it. Her nostrils picked up the scent of the peanut butter, and her instincts were to grab the sandwich and eat it right away, but it could be laced with something, and she couldn’t take that chance. The banana was a safer bet.

The young man’s eyes narrowed. “Eat,” he commanded.

“What’s your name?”

He sat down on the bottom step and watched her. His eyes narrowed, but they were squinty to begin with.

Angel’s stomach tightened, but she picked up the banana and pulled the peel open. She took a bite and swallowed it. “Well?”

“Donnie.”

“Donnie.” Angel repeated the word. Her wary eyes trained on him; she then slowly took another bite from the banana. She was starving, but she’d be saving half of it for Jillian. “Thanks for the banana.” She knew his eyes were trained on her mouth as she ate it, knew he was thinking of her sucking his dick.
Ugh. What a revolting thought.

He didn’t answer, but nodded once, his tongue coming out to slide salaciously over his lower lip.
Fucking pig
, Angel thought.

“What’s your boss planning for me?” He shifted uncomfortably. “It won’t change anything if you tell me,” Angel coaxed.

“He said we’re gonna have some fun with you then get your boyfriend to pay up.”

“Do you believe him?” she asked, shaking her head. She wanted to tell him that if she were harmed, Alex wouldn’t pay the ransom. “They won’t let you have any fun, Donnie. Swanson is a greedy bastard. He and that big, fat pig will use me up before you get a chance. You know that, right?”

He pulled at the crotch of his dirty jeans, and Angel wanted to puke. She swallowed and set the banana down. She didn’t have much time, and she had to make a move now.

Her arms lifted and she pulled her shirt up over her head and off then stood up. “If it’s gonna happen, I’d rather it be with you,” she said softly, taking a few steps toward him. “Do you want to be with me?” She inched her sweatpants down so the curve of her hips, her navel, and the top of her purple lace bikini panties peeked out.

“They’ll kill me if I do,” Donnie said, his eyes running up and down Angel’s body. She was just glad Jillian was asleep.

“Why don’t we be friends, Donnie? That way we both win. I let you fuck me, and you help me get away from them. I can tell by the way they talk to you, you’re nothing to them. Swanson only cares about himself. Whatever promises he made, he won’t keep.”

She could tell he was conflicted. Conflicted and confused was good.

“We fuck, you get us out, and I get you a bunch of money. Think of the life you could have. What could you do with a million dollars, Donnie?” Angel’s voice was filled with sex and temptation; she looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

“How ’bout you blow me, instead?” His eyes continued to ogle her, then landed on her breasts. Angel had no intention of fucking him, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to suck him off. Conviction made her brave. She had to get him at a disadvantage. He had to believe she was going to do as he wanted.

“Come over here.” Her words were low and sultry on purpose, though the man made her stomach turn.

Donnie got up quickly and walked toward her, his hand going to his belt to begin opening his pants en route.

Angel didn’t stop to think. She whirled and connected a round kick to his jaw, making him stumble backward.

The man yelled. “You bitch! You’re gonna pay for that.”

She stood in a fighting stance, her feet wide apart and her arms up to protect her body, fists clenched. Angel’s body was at an angle to Donnie’s, her left side in front of her. She prepared herself to deliver the blow of her life.

“Moron. Did you fucking think I’d let you touch me?” Angel taunted. The noise startled Jillian awake, and the little girl started to wail loudly. “Nasty bastard.”

“Anga!” she cried. “Anga!”

The man charged at Angel again, and she let him in close; close enough to get his arms around her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. His breath was rancid, and his body smelled foul from sweat, cigarettes, and urine, but she couldn’t turn her head away, though his odor made her want to gag. She had to keep her eyes on her target.

She had one chance, and only one. She brought her right arm back and rammed the heel of her hand up and hard into the tip of his nose with all the force she could muster. It was one of the first moves she learned in the self-defense classes she’d taken right after her rape in college. Donnie dropped like a stone, landing with a sick thud in a crumpled heap on the concrete floor. He never knew what hit him. The bones in his nose were shattered and shoved up into the frontal lobe of the brain, causing instant death.

Angel didn’t have time to celebrate or even take a breath; she had to get them out of there while she had the chance. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh as she threw her shirt back on and followed it with her coat, silently thanking God that the men hadn’t been smart enough to take it from her.
Ignorant assholes
, she thought.

The temperature in the basement dictated that Angel had left Jillian’s coat on the whole time they were down there. She shoved the banana in her pocket and picked up the sandwich. It might not be safe to eat, she wasn’t sure, but it joined the fruit inside her coat.

The plate was glass, and she dropped it on the concrete. It broke into five pieces, and she chose the one with the sharpest point and put it in the other pocket.

She picked up Jillian and ran up the stairs. “Hush, baby. We have to be quiet, okay? It’s very important we are very quiet.”

“Tay.” Jillian nodded.

“We have to be brave, too. It’s going to be okay.”

At the top of the stairs, Angel’s eyes flew around the room. The house was very old, the appliances had seen better days, and there were rust stains on the sink where water had leaked around the faucet. She raced to the back door and opened it. Outside, it was overcast and windy, trees surrounded the large clearing the house sat on. The trees blocked her view beyond, and she couldn’t see the sun, so she had no idea what direction was which. There was one dirt tire path worn through the grass, but there was no way to know where it led or how far it was from a real road. Swanson would assume she would follow it. She looked around and headed for an old barn at the opposite end of the clearing, which was closely guarded by trees on two sides. Maybe she’d find something she could use for a weapon inside, if nothing else. Or, maybe there was a place inside she could hide Jillian.

Angel was torn. She could run, but to where? Getting lost in the woods would mean certain hypothermia and death, but after the dirt road leading out, the barn would be the next place they’d look for her. She pushed through the barn door and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The wood was weathered and splintering; the entire building was dilapidated almost to the point of falling down; a few small streams of light were coming in from two windows and a few cracks in the wood of the walls and roof. Dangerous debris scattered the floor. She’d need to be careful where she stepped.

At least, the wind was less intrusive inside, and Angel put Jillian down gently. “Bean, I have to set you down for just a minute. I’m right here, though, okay? Hush now, sweet pea.”

Jillian was shivering, so Angel zipped up her coat then quickly took stock of her surroundings. There were several old tools hanging on the walls and scattered around. A couple old pieces of equipment and a big seed wagon. Angel had seen them many times sitting in fields waiting to be filled with grain while farmers combined crops. This was wooden and very old. One of the wheels was flat, so it hadn’t been used in years. This place had been deserted for decades. No one would come to find them here, unless they were looking, but she couldn’t take Jillian into the woods and get lost.

She had to trust that Alex was coming to find them. Her decision made, she began her search. An old ice pick and a pitchfork were the most promising. The wooden handle on the pitchfork was broken and splintered; all of the paint was missing. Like everything else here, it was circa early thirties and forties. Angel picked them up, climbed up on the wagon, using the hitch and one of the tires as leverage; and tossed the two items inside. She jumped down and rushed to Jillian’s side.

“Come on,” she whispered. She lifted the little girl and carried her the few feet back to the wagon. “Bean, hold on tight. Wrap your legs around Angel’s waist. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” Angel repeated her path over the hitch and up the side of the wagon, stepping on the wheel. With Jillian plastered to the front of her torso, Angel knew she wouldn’t be able to climb up and over. Her arms wouldn’t have enough leverage, so she got down.