by Caitlyn Dare
"I don't give a shit what James said. That cunt is mine."
I push the door open and climb out. As predicted, the officers nod at me as I walk around the trunk and head toward the bar.
The party is in full swing, the music blasting out into the parking lot as I step up to the doors.
I glance back over my shoulder to find both Ace and Cole flanking my side, then the officers—who I can only assume are bent as fuck—behind them.
I suck in a sharp breath and reach out for the door. Ripping it open, I take my first step into the bar.
As if I'd timed it, the song that was booming comes to an end and the place falls silent as almost everyone in the bar turns our way.
Chins drop and eyes almost bug out as we step farther inside. I start to scan the crowd to find my target, but I don't need to look far because people in front of me part and Warren appears as if from nowhere, but I don't see K.
"Well, well, well, you took your time, didn't you?" he asks, looking down at his watch. "The party started an hour ago.”
"Where is she?" I growl, my eyes holding his and my fists curling at my sides.
"Why, you want to fuck her again? You might as well, it's not like I want to. She's used goods. Dirty," he spits, making me see red, but I keep myself locked in place for now, until I know where she is and that she's safe. "She's fucking useless too. It's only any good when I force her."
"You fucking cunt," I growl. "Where is she?" At my question, Kenny comes stumbling through the crowd as if someone just pushed her.
"Conner," she breathes, looking up at me with a wince.
My heart jumps into my throat, and my nails pierce the skin of my palms. The anger I've barely been managing to contain all these weeks bubbles over.
She’s got a fucking black eye and a split lip.
"You motherfucker," I roar, flying toward the cunt who thinks it's acceptable to put his hands on a woman.
My first hit feels just as satisfying as I hoped it would. His nose crunches against my knuckles as it explodes with blood.
"Conner," Kenny screams from behind me as I continue laying into Warren.
I get him to the floor, but hands grab both of my arms.
"Kennedy, we need to get Kennedy," Ace growls in my ear, but we're too slow, because some guy I vaguely recognize from Heights High steps to me as all hell breaks loose around us.
I shoot Shelbie a look. "Get her the fuck out of here," I shout before the guy lunges for me. Thankfully, Cole and Ace release me in time.
Men shout and grunt as they're all dragged into the fight, girls scream, and furniture gets broken as the brawl continues. I have no clue where my brothers go, and I have even less of an idea as to what the officers are doing, but more importantly, I've lost fucking Warren.
I try looking around as I push the guy away from me and into a nearby table before another comes at me.
Getting a few seconds of relief, I back away from the groaning guy at my feet and race toward the bar where Shelbie is. "Where is she? Where the fuck is Kenny?"
Tears are streaming down Shelbie's cheeks and my heart damn near stops beating as realization hits me. "I... I don't know, Conner. She was right beside me and then... and then she wasn't. I don't know," she sobs.
"Fuck," I bellow, running back into the thick of it to find Warren.
But as expected, he's nowhere to be seen either.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kennedy
“Warren, just stop... please...” The words die on my tongue as he yanks me toward his beat-up car.
“Let’s see how Jagger likes it when I disappear with his favorite toy,” he sneers, yanking open the trunk. “Get in.”
“W-what?”
“You heard me. Stupid fucking bitch, get in the trunk.”
“No, I’m not get—"
He grabs me and folds me in his arms. I kick and scream, I even bite down hard on his arm, but he’s too strong and I feel a little woozy from where he hit me earlier.
“We can do this the hard way,” he growls, “or we can do this the really hard way.”
The venom in his voice sends chills down my spine and my body goes limp. I can’t win here, and no one is coming to save me. We left a war zone; people fighting and wrecking Shelbie’s dad’s bar.
I curl into a ball, dragging in a big lungful of air.
“Good girl.” He curls his fingers over the edge of the trunk. “Happy birthday, baby. This will be one you’ll never forget.”
Everything goes black, the slam of the trunk like a gunshot to my heart. He’s lost it, completely and utterly lost it.
I sensed it last night when he found me looking for the cell phone. Warren is unhinged, driven to the brink of madness. I thought it was about me, that I’m his trigger, but it’s not. It’s the Jaggers.
He wants to hurt them. He wants to hurt Conner. And I’m Conner’s weakness.
Tears leak from my eyes as the car rumbles to life beneath me. Panic floods me as I try to keep calm.
Warren planned this whole night. From setting me and Conner up last night, to the party, to snatching me before Conner or his brothers could get to me. He wanted Conner to witness my injuries, just like he wanted Conner to watch me disappear.
Oh God, Conner.
Pain rips through me. He’ll be beside himself, and it’s all my fault. I should have fought harder, given Shelbie some sign to raise the alarm.
It occurs to me that Warren is covering his tracks by making me ride in here. He doesn’t want me to know where we’re going, which means maybe he plans on me making it out of this alive.
Or maybe it’s just all part of his sick and twisted mind games. He wants me to think I stand a chance when in fact, I don’t. He could be driving me to my death right now and I don’t even know.
Fuck.
My chest burns. I’m pretty sure he cracked a rib last night. The ugly bruise matches the one around my eye.
I smother a whimper. Crying isn’t going to get me out of this.
I’m not sure anything will.
What feels like a lifetime later, the car finally rolls to a stop. I have no idea how long we’ve been traveling; I’m pretty sure I was in and out of consciousness.
The trunk opens and Warren’s dark eyes glitter dangerously back at me. “Out,” he barks at me the way a man might talk to his dog.
I gingerly climb out, my ribs smarting as I lower myself onto the ground.
“Where are we?” I ask, my eyes straining against the darkness. There’s a building behind us. A warehouse maybe. But it’s so dark it’s hard to make out any landmarks or distinguishing features.
“Doesn’t matter,” Warren says, grabbing my arm and shoving me forward. Fire ignites in my muscles as they protest at his rough treatment.
It might be dark, but Warren has no issue navigating his way around. He brings me to a door and yanks it open, pushing me into the dark abyss. There’s a cloying smell in the air, but I can’t quite point my finger on it, my senses all out of whack. The air is stale though, as if the place doesn’t get much ventilation.
“What is this place?”
“Your worst nightmare.” He almost laughs the words, making fear sit heavy in my stomach.
The narrow hall eventually widens into a cavernous room. There’s a sliver of moonlight streaming in through a hole in the roof, casting an eerie hue around the place. Warren finally releases me and stalks past me. He must hit a switch because a lamp flickers to life and my eyes finally adjust to what is an abandoned warehouse of some sort. There’s some empty racks and crates lying around, but that’s not what catches my eye.
“What is that?” I can’t disguise the tremor in my voice as I move closer to the cage. It’s in the corner of the room, taunting me.
Warren comes up behind me, running a hand up my spine and lowering his mouth to the shell of my ear. “It’s your birthday present, baby. Don’t you like it? I had it made special just for you.”
Bile rushes up my throat, and I puk
e all over the floor. This is happening... this is really happening.
“Please, don’t,” I cry, tears stinging my eyes.
He grabs the nape of my neck and shoves me forward. “In you go, bitch.”
“Warren, please—" He pushes so hard I fall to the floor with a thud. Pain shoots through my bones as I choke back a sob. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Oh, but I am.” He crouches down, locking the door. “You see, the Jaggers took something from me. And now I’m going to take something from them.”
“P-please, Warren, you don’t want to do this.”
“You don’t know what the fuck I want, Ken. You never did.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to pull the plug and watch the Jaggers unravel. Then I’m going to deliver you to Conner piece by bloody piece.”
Bile crawls up my throat again, but I manage to swallow it down this time.
“So what are you waiting for?” I scream. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it. JUST DO IT AND PUT ME OUT OF MISERY.” My chest heaves with the weight of my words. I can’t do this. I can’t be kept here like an animal. I’d rather die.
Warren cocks his head and studies me, but then he clicks his tongue. “You’re not getting out of it that easy, baby. I want to have some fun first.”
I don’t know how long I lie here in the cage. Warren disappears now and again, and I drift in and out. The floor is cold and hard beneath me, and the pain in my ribs is getting worse. I don’t complain, though. We’re beyond any civility.
Earlier, Warren pushed a bowl of water and crackers into the cage. Not only does he have me penned up like an animal, he’s treating me like one. But I sipped the water and ate a couple. If I want to stay lucid, I need to stave off the hunger pangs and dehydration.
“What time is it?” I ask in the silence. Warren is in here somewhere; I can feel him lurking in the shadows. A sliver of moonlight bounces in through a hole in the roof, but it barely lights up the vast room.
It’s still nighttime, but I have no idea how long I’ve been here.
“Warren, please,” I cry.
He finally steps out of the shadows, his lip curled with disgust. “You look like shit,” he spits. “Maybe I should just slit your throat and be done with it.” His arm lashes out and he runs a blade across the bars, the noise rattling through my skull.
“Please,” I beg, no longer sure whether I’m begging for my life or my death.
“Or maybe I should fuck the life right out of you. Would you like that, Ken, baby? Would you like me to feed you my dick while I slice you open and watch you bleed?”
I retch into my hand. This isn’t the Warren I know. This is someone worse. Someone sick and twisted with no regard for life.
He moves around the cage, jabbing the knife sharply through the bars. I move with him, trying to avoid his lashes. Curling myself tightly into a ball, I wait him out. I think I’m at a safe distance, until I feel the blade nick the back of my shoulder. I lurch forward, but he darts around the cage, following me. Tears drip down my cheeks as he taunts me.
“Maybe I’ll fuck you with it.” He places the flat of the knife on his tongue and drags it across his flesh.
Fear cripples me. Warren is bad. Rotten to the core. I know that. Yet, I can’t help but think I’ve only scratched the surface of his true perversities, and that’s what terrifies me most.
He watches me for another few minutes, playing with the knife like it’s a child’s toy. Finally, he grows bored, turning his attention to something deeper in the room.
I roll onto my side and close my eyes. Everything hurts, but as my eyes flutter closed, I know it’s only going to get worse.
The next time I wake, it’s significantly lighter. The edges of the warehouse still sit in darkness, but I can see more clearly now. Clear enough to realize the cage has been left open.
“Warren?” I call, only to be greeted with silence. “Warren?” I crawl to the edge of the cage, gently patting the floor beyond the cage walls.
My body aches, screaming at me to stop when I start to clamber to my feet. I inhale a shaky breath as I search the warehouse. There’s a bunch of racks separating the cage from the rest of the room, but I can just about see Warren through the shelves. He’s hunched over a desk, busy typing away on a keyboard. He doesn’t hear me approach, nor does he hear me cry every time my ribs stretch and contract.
The tap tap tap of keys fills the air and still, he doesn’t look back. I try to make sense of whatever he’s doing but the screen is a jumble of letters and numbers on a black screen. I strain my eyes to try to decipher them, but it’s futile.
Then something on the wall catches my eye. “What is this?” My voice trembles as I move closer. It’s a web of string joining together photographs and newspaper cuttings. There are even some handwritten notes. From a distance, it looks like a collection of unrelated, nonsensical information. But upon closer inspection, I can see that isn’t the case at all.
“I see you found it.” Warren startles me, catapulting my heart into my throat.
“W-what is it?” I’m pretty sure I know, but I don’t understand.
“Don’t play dumb, Ken. I know you’re better than that.” His hand curves around the back of my neck and he pushes me forward.
“Y-you—”
“Surprise,” he says. “As you can see, I’ve been a busy boy.”
My mouth falls open to reply, but I don’t know what to say. It looks like something out of a crime show... and right there in the middle is a photograph of me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Conner
"This is a fucking joke," I spit, falling down into one of the few chairs that's still in one piece in Joker’s.
Dad, Ace, Cole and a couple of James' men gather around us.
"They can't just fucking disappear."
I drop my head into my hands, my confidence that we'd catch up with them vanishing faster than I can cope with.
We've spent hours driving around the Heights, trying to find where he took her, but there was no sign of that motherfucker, his car, or my girl.
I turned his trailer upside down trying to find clues, but there was fucking nothing.
"This is your fault," I spit at our dad. "If you hadn’t made me wait to get her, if you hadn’t come up with this fucking stupid plan, she would have been home by now. If anything fucking happens to her… this is on your head." I push to stand so I'm staring down at him.
"Conner," he says calmly, like I didn't just spit all over his face in my rage. "We will find her. I have men all over the Heights. Any kind of movement and we'll unearth the cunt."
"Not good enough. I need her now. I need to know he's not hurting her."
"I know, Conner. We're doing the best we can."
"Not. Fucking. Good. Enough. You promised me this would be over tonight, but as far as I can see it's just got a whole lot fucking worse." I lift my hands to my head and thread my fingers through my hair, pulling until it hurts.
I need to hurt. I need to feel the pain. The distraction.
"Fuck," I bark, pulling my cell from my pocket and shooting Daz a message.
My fists clench with my need to throw them into some unsuspecting cunt’s face.
"Is that really the best way to deal with this?" Cole asks, coming to stand beside me just in time to see who I messaged.
"I don't know, bro. You fucking tell me,” I snarl. “What is the right thing to do when your girl’s been fucking kidnapped by a psychopath and you have no idea where she is?”
"Uh..." he hesitates.
"Exactly. It's either this, or he,” I pin our father with a look, “tells us fucking everything. Because this," I throw my hands out to my sides, indicating the officers who are clearly under James' watch, “isn't fucking normal." We grew up in the Heights, we know all about corrupt cops. They're on every street corner selling the drugs they've seized to kids who don't know any better. But this right now is fuck
ed up.
I step up to Dad once more. "Who exactly is James Jagger, huh? Because he sure as shit isn't the businessman who spends all his time in Silicon Valley like we were led to believe, is he?"
"I spend a lot of time in Silicon Valley," he argues.
"Doing what, James? What do you do that means you have the police in your back pocket? That you have men patrolling the Heights right now looking for a girl? What secrets does Warren know? What does he have on you?"
He swallows, his lips parting, but what he decides to say is nothing but a disappointment and nearly has my fist flying toward his face.
"I will explain everything I can when this is all over."
"Yeah, you keep saying that, but this... this shit isn't over. Whatever this is is ruining my fucking life right now, the life of the girl I love. Why can't you just be honest with us? Who are you?"
"Drop it, kid," one of Dad's guys says, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"Fuck you," I snap, spinning out of his hold and marching to the other side of the bar where Shelbie and her dad are quietly trying to put the place back together.
"Leave it," I say, loud enough for Dad to hear. "He's gonna pay for all of it. He fucking owes me."
Just before I storm through the doors of the bar, my cell vibrates. I pull it out, desperate to find an address staring back at me so I can feel the pain I need right now.
"Thank fuck," I hiss.
Daz: I've got the perfect guy for you.
I'm in the car with the engine running before Ace and Cole get to me.
"Conner, don't do this," Cole shouts through the window.
"You can either stand there bitching and listening to his empty promises, or you can come with me. The choice is yours, but I'm leaving right now."
I give them two seconds to make a decision, but they hesitate for too long so I slam my foot down on the accelerator and wheelspin out of Joker’s parking lot.
Fuck them. Fuck this.
