“What? Why?”
“I came to tell you that you need to move on.”
“I’m moving on.”
Amber raised a brow. “Are you sure about that, Sailor?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Jules, a question for my question? Some things never change.”
“You’re asking or telling me to move on?”
“Stop avoiding the obvious. You’re letting all this pent-up guilt eat you up.”
Julian stopped to face Amber, held her soft face in his hands. “You shouldn’t have been there. Shelton’s brother killed you and that bullet had my name on it, not yours.”
“Oh, Jules. Let it go. You always had a problem holding a grudge.”
Julian threw his hands in the air and paced in the fog. “A grudge? Ambs, that sick bastard took you from me. From us. I’m angry, pissed off. We were going to have a baby, for Christ’s sake! What kind of husband and father am I if I can’t hold both of you? I let everyone down. I let you down.”
Tears stung Julian’s throat as he knelt in front of Amber and grasped her shins.
“The grudge isn’t against Kent’s brother. You’re holding a grudge against yourself.” Amber placed her hand over his head. “Please, sweetheart, stand up and look at me.”
Julian stood and locked eyes with shimmering hazels.
For the last time?
“It’s been five years, baby. You need to forgive yourself.”
“I’m trying. It’s so hard.”
Amber’s hand moved to cover his heart. “Do you love her?”
“Amber…please don’t make me answer that.”
“You don’t have to. I can see it in your eyes.” She took a breath. “That’s all I ever wanted for you. A second chance. She’s beautiful, Jules. And if you truly love Chloe, we can’t keep meeting like this…here in your dreams, where you keep me alive. You now need to ask yourself what kind of man would you be to Chloe if you keep holding on to me? That’s not fair to her, or to you.”
“I’m afraid to lose her, like I lost you.”
“Then you need to wake up. Chloe needs you right now.”
“What do you mean she needs me?”
“She needs you…now. Wake up, Jules!”
Another series of bangs sounded to the right and Julian spun his head. When he whirled back to Amber, she was gone, leaving only the misty fog.
“Dammit, Amber…please come back. What do you mean Chloe needs me?”
“Booker,” came a distant voice.
Lincoln? Is that you?
“Wake up.”
Another loud bang rang out. “Wake up, you pansy-ass.” Then a sting to the face. “Stop fucking around.”
Lincoln, stop your yelling… And did you just slap me, asshole?
“Come on, jerk-face. I need you to wake up.”
Then flickers of blurred pictures, like an 8mm movie caught on a broken reel kept playing over and over. Julian shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe as the shrapnel images flooded his mind and in slow motion wrapped around his consciousness.
Blackness grew around him.
A tall, dark silhouette appeared from the shadows.
Olive eyes shone through the murky darkness.
Tears streamed down Chloe’s face.
An evil grin that made his hairs stand on end.
Red manicured fingers held a gun to Chloe’s head.
A woman.
Anger seared and heat boiled in Julian’s veins as the tortuous visions of Chloe replayed in his mind. A forced draft of air entered his lungs as he leaped up, grasping his chest.
“Well, it’s about fucking time,” Lincoln bellowed, banging on a pot with a wooden stick.
“Where is she? Where’s Chloe?” Julian yelped, faltering as he tried to stand, still dizzy from the blow to his head.
“Whoa, buddy, take a seat.” Lincoln took hold of Julian’s arm and sat him back down on the couch. “She’s not here. They got you good last night. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Julian stared at the tangled rope and his shattered phone on the floor. He scanned the room. The wooden coffee table destroyed, and furniture tossed around haphazardly.
He gave Lincoln a play by play of what he recalled when they returned to the safe house just after midnight. It’d been unusually dark, the porch light off, and Julian’s instincts went on high alert. He had pulled his Glock from his holster and secured Chloe behind him, using himself as a human shield to protect her from danger.
Then chaos broke out. Chloe screamed, hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her from Julian. A scuffle, a blow to the back of Julian’s neck. He stumbled to the ground. Kicks to his ribs knocked the air from his lungs.
Fade to black.
“How long have I been out? What time is it? Have you called Tyco?”
“Slow down, buddy.” Lincoln handed Julian an icepack. “We’ll get those answered one question at a time.”
Julian shook his head and pushed away the icepack.
“Take it, fucker. You need it to cool down your hot head.” Lincoln looked at his watch. “And it’s just after seven.”
“We need to find her.” Julian pressed the ice to the back of his head. His chest tightened at the thought of how much time had passed. “It was a woman. That fucking bitch took Chloe.”
“Okay, did you recognize her?”
“Not that I can recall.”
“Tyco’s been scouring the street cameras for the last couple of hours trying to locate Chloe.” Lincoln rose from the couch and set the pot on the counter. “The question is, how did they find the safe house?”
“Hell if I know.” Julian threw the icepack on the floor.
“Do you think it was her friends?”
“No way.” Julian shook his head. “They would never, and besides, you had them blindfolded.”
“No one followed me, I’m sure of that.”
“It doesn’t matter now. We just need to find Chloe. God, if she’s—”
“Don’t even say it. We’re going to find her. Alive.” Lincoln patted his friend on the back. “If that bitch wanted her dead, I would be calling the coroner rather than banging pots and slapping your sleepy ass up. That woman has an ulterior motive.”
A sheen of sweat coated Julian’s forehead and adrenaline poured through his body. All he could think about was getting Chloe back.
“I can’t lose her, Linc.”
“You won’t.” Lincoln’s phone rang and Tyco’s name appeared on the screen. “Ty, you’re on speaker. Sleeping Beauty finally woke up.”
“Oh good. Welcome back to the living. So, here’s what I got. Between the hours of midnight till the moment Linc showed up at the safe house. Three vans. All pulled out at the same time. One van went south, the other east, and the last went north. Two of the vans are a negative. I tracked the other going down the dirt road to a secluded part of the docks. There’s an old abandoned fish house at the end of this road that went out of business several years ago. My guess, that’s where they took Chloe.”
“Good work, Tyke,” Julian said as he watched Lincoln place a black case on the table and open it, displaying several weapons and binoculars.
“Hey, one more thing… Frank Channing is missing too. He didn’t appear in court yesterday morning. And when SFPD went to check on him, his home was ransacked. Since I’m a betting man, I’m all in for Frank and Chloe are together.”
Julian’s chest tightened and a sliver of fear ran through his gut. Julian didn’t believe in coincidences. This woman’s vendetta ran deep to have Chloe and her father kidnapped, brought to the island. But what was her motive?
“That’s if Chloe is still alive.” Julian shook his head, images spinning out of control of Chloe hurt, or worse.
“What the hell did I just say, Book? She’s alive. And we’re going to find her,” Lincoln snapped back.
“And guys,” Tyco added, “it’s primetime news over here.”
“Shit…that means Phoebe knows.” Julian let out a breath of defeat knowing how worried Chloe’s friend would be. He pulled out a G17 from the case, holstered it to his waist. “They took Chloe and my gun, Linc. The bitch had my gun pointed to Chloe’s head.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Lincoln piped out.
“Send us the location,” Julian instructed.
“Already on Linc’s phone.”
Julian drove to the docks and parked his Jeep at a distance but close enough to check out the shack. He raised the binoculars and peered through them at the beat-up building. This part of the dock was empty and explained the reason why the unsub used this location.
A large burly figure crossed the window pane and looked outside, most likely inspecting the surroundings. Relief overwhelmed him. There was no doubt in Julian’s mind, Chloe was in there.
The breeze from the ocean was a relief as the sun berated Julian’s damp skin. He wiped the sweat that trickled down the side of his temple.
Julian tightened his grip on the binoculars and clenched his jaw when he finally saw a glimpse of Frank through the lens. He was not looking so good, head hung low and face bruised. A fist smacked Frank’s face; blood sprayed from his mouth. Julian only hoped they did not lay a finger on Chloe, so help him god.
Time slowed, minutes stretching for hours. Julian ran several scenarios through his head, trying to figure out a plan. This was not a recovery mission, she was alive, he felt it deep down to the marrow of his bones.
Kill the targets and rescue Chloe and Frank.
The problem was he didn’t know how many people were holding them captive. He didn’t want to rush in the house and risk their lives.
“One man,” Julian said, looking through the lens. “But no woman.”
“Piece of cake,” Lincoln said as he chewed on his gum, checking the trigger of his gun.
“I’m guessing each fucker has a hold of Frank and Chloe.”
Julian’s patience was running thin and he was bloodthirsty, needed to put this charade to an end. He didn’t want to jump the gun and make any irrational decisions that would cost the lives of Frank and the woman he loved.
Although he wanted to crumble at the thought of Chloe hurt, he needed to push it all aside. It was tearing him apart. All he wanted was to have Chloe back in his arms more than his last breath. Julian needed to stay focused.
Chloe’s life depended on it. He knew she was scared, he saw it in her eyes when the woman had a gun to her head.
Chloe was his lifeline. He finally came to terms with a revelation—although his love for Amber would always remain, what he had with Chloe was completely different, and good, and that was okay.
The pounding in his chest and heat raced throughout his body. Julian shut his eyes, hoping he could channel a message to her.
Hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming for you. Stay strong.
“You alright?” Lincoln asked, putting his gun in the holster wrapped around his shin.
“Yeah, I just want to get in there.”
Lincoln put a hand on Julian’s shoulder to calm him. “So, what’s the plan, Booker?”
The humidity rose and a sheen of sweat coated Chloe’s body as daylight filtered through the dull shattered windows of the abandoned shack. She could hear the ocean’s waves and seagulls overhead through the holes of the wood-paneled walls.
Chloe fought the urge to vomit from the stench of rotten fish and the staleness that permeated the walls of her shiplap prison. Her dress was dirty and torn at the hem. Her dislocated shoulder and her slouched body lay on the grimy and dusty floor, as an occasional cockroach would scurry across.
The nylon ropes cut into her wrists with every feeble attempt to set herself free. Her ankles tied together, immobilizing her.
She was worn out from the strikes to her face throughout the evening. She didn’t know why and how long she’d been held captive since she was knocked out several times from the blows. Chloe fought through most of the fatigue and forced her eyes open.
Eventually her captures got bored, tossed her in the corner like a ragdoll, and tortured their next victim. This time Dad was on the other side of the room in the splintered chair Chloe once occupied.
Dad was brought in sometime in the middle of the darkness and beaten to a bloody pulp. Chloe pleaded with her captors to stop hitting him as tears deluged from her eyes at the sight of Dad being used as a punching bag.
She needed to stay awake, be strong for him, so he could draw any strength he had from her.
The woman who didn’t say a word sat on the table, legs crossed, laughing as if she were watching a comedy show. With each hit the tattooed man connected to Dad’s unstable body, the woman’s sneer cut into Chloe’s chest like shards of glass.
“Reyna, please stop,” Chloe pleaded. “Why are you doing this?”
Reyna raised her hand at the man to cease his beating and her malevolent eyes pitched to Chloe. “Ace, give me a minute.”
Ace moved away from Dad and leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. Reyna hopped off the table and moved across the room with purpose. Chloe’s body trembled and fear triggered her heart to race.
There was only rage in Reyna’s eyes.
Reyna crouched down to rest on her haunches. With her manicured fingers, she gripped Chloe’s chin forcing her to look at Dad.
“Why? I’ll tell you why. Your father fucked my mother and left her with nothing. He is a piece of shit, and every blow to his handsome face is for every day my mother cried for him.”
Chloe winced. “Your mother?”
“Get your hands off my daughter.” Dad’s voice was low, as he struggled to get his words out.
Releasing Chloe’s chin, Reyna quickly moved to grab Dad’s hair and pulled his head upright. “I’m your daughter too… Take a close look at me, Frank. Who do I resemble? You know damn well who I’m talking about. Say her name! Say it! What’s my mother’s name, you bastard?”
Reyna’s face inches from his, Dad’s swollen eyes met hers. “Denise…” he choked out.
Dad’s head sagged when Reyna’s grip released his hair and she clapped her hands to applaud him. “Ding ding ding! Otherwise known as DeeDee.”
“DeeDee?” Chloe stilled, remembering the familiar name. “My nannie?”
“Oh, Chloe. Don’t look surprised. Frank knew how to fuck-em and chuck-em. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
“Chloe, don’t listen to her.”
“Is it true?” Chloe’s eyes met his. “Is Reyna my—”
“Half-sister?” With her red painted nail, Reyna tapped her chin, sarcasm written all over her face. “Oh Chloe…tsk, tsk, tsk. Take off the rose-tinted glasses, you silly girl. Daddy dearest wasn’t so perfect after all.”
“Reyna, please let Chloe go. This is between you and I.”
“No can do, Dad.” Reyna pulled a journal out of her purse and waved it in Dad’s face. “I found my mother’s diary after she committed suicide.” She tossed the journal on the table and pulled out a gun from her purse and paraded around the room. “There was a picture of you and my mother in your perfect house…with her.” Reyna pointed the gun at Chloe.
“Reyna, no, please!” Dad screamed as he winced through the obvious pain in his chest.
Fear gripped Chloe’s throat seeing the gun aimed at her. Reyna squinted at Chloe, but she couldn’t hide her finger trembling upon the trigger.
There was silence for a beat before Reyna retracted the gun and spoke again. “In my mother’s diary, I read you like stories, Chloe.” Reyna spun to Frank. “Let’s tell Chloe about the sappy story of you and Mom, shall we, Daddy?”
Reyna cleared her throat. “Once a upon a fucking time ago…there was a handsome king named Frank who married a pathetic duchess named Sarah. King Frank was a horny bastard and set his sights on the beautiful young maiden, Denise, as she was out in the garden. The king pursued Denise and whispered sweet bullshit and empty promises. One day, Denise told the king she was pregnant with his child.
Not believing her, the king broke the maiden’s heart and she ran away without looking back.” Reyna stopped parading around the room, her hand on her jutted hip. “That about sum it up, Daddy?”
“Dad, is it true?” Chloe swallowed as tears sprang to her eyes.
“DeeDee told me she miscarried and left without a note or anything. If I had known she was still pregnant, I would’ve been there for her—”
“Lies! You lie.” Reyna swung the weapon toward Dad, her hand still shaking.
“Reyna, no!” Chloe begged. “Please don’t. Please don’t hurt him.”
“My mother loved you, Frank. But you know what’s even more sickening, she loved Sarah too, and that’s why my mother hid her pregnancy and ran away.”
“I didn’t…please, Reyna… If I…if she told me…” Dad mumbled, desperation in his voice as he shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I held onto that diary since I was seven years old and read it every day like it was my lifeline. Instead of locating the next of kin”—Reyna leveled her eyes at Dad—“I was shuffled from foster home to foster home. Mom’s blood is on your hands, and payback’s a bitch. Just like you took my mother’s life, I took Chloe’s pathetic mother, too.”
Chloe’s breath hitched and her chest squeezed. She sympathized for the little girl Reyna had been, for going through life without a mother and father. But this evil woman in front of Chloe was not to be pitied. Reyna’s scars ran so deep it chiseled the marrow of her bones and revenge was etched all through and through, taking this moment as her victory.
“You killed my mother?” Chloe hissed, tears falling from her face. “Why? She didn’t do anything to you.”
Reyna straightened, smoothed her hair behind her shoulders.
“Sarah was just as guilty as dear ol’ Dad. I searched and searched for him since all I had was a name in my mom’s diary. Do you know how many Frank Channings there are in this goddamn U.S. of A? Then my search was over… Planned for the perfect time to meet him…introduce myself, hoping we could rekindle, make up for lost time. See, after I started working at the hospital, I was trying to get under Sarah’s good graces and since my mother loved Sarah, I thought it was only fair she should know what happened between my mother and her husband. So, I confronted Sarah a couple of years ago and showed her my mother’s diary. Being the protective mother and wife, reputations needed to be upheld. With Frank’s election, Sarah wrote a check to keep my mouth shut and stay away…but I got greedy. I told Sarah I wanted more money and more and more…”
Till I Found You: The Broken Hero Series—Book One Page 23
