Now Open Your Eyes (Stay With Me series Book 3)

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Now Open Your Eyes (Stay With Me series Book 3) Page 5

by Nicole Fiorina


  Ethan paused, and the only thing simmering in my mind was the fact the girl died in her sleep. If I died in my sleep, did it mean I could be with Ollie locked away in a dream forever? The idea washed a sense of peace over me.

  “That’s why I joined the police force,” Ethan continued. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. I’m not going to hurt you, Jett. I’d never intentionally hurt you. Despite what you might be thinking right now, I do care about you. Maybe I’m not doing it right, and maybe I just don’t know how, but … fuck … I don’t know. Anytime I let someone I care about out of my grasp, death follows. I’m scared for a million damn reasons to let you go at this point.”

  I think a part of me could have felt for him at that moment or understand him at the very least, but this need to run had complete control of me.

  As soon as Ethan turned his back and took a step in the opposite direction, I sprinted toward the trees.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Three long strides were all it took before he brought me down.

  “Are you fucking stupid?” Ethan breathed harshly in my ear as his chest pounded against my back, and I closed my eyes, waiting for him to put me to sleep. “How many times do I have to remind you? We’re hundreds of miles from anything!”

  He never did.

  Ethan fed me dinner that night. In my zip-ties, unable to escape this abyss of nothingness. Worry etched his features with every spoonful of soup he brought to my mouth as I sat paralyzed. He pleaded for me to talk, to say anything, but I couldn’t. All I could do was imagine breaking free from the restraints, snatching the silver spoon, and shoving it down his throat.

  During my bath time, I laid immobile and locked inside my head as he washed me with his bare hands. They were strong and generous, but nothing like the man in my dreams. I concentrated on the lines on the wall, counting as his soapy palm roamed over every surface of my heated skin. Ethan washed me like the dishes in the sink—raw and to perfection until I was shiny and new again.

  Ethan dressed me and carried me downstairs to the bedroom.

  And that night, he laid beside me as my eyes stayed wide open. Ollie wouldn’t come, not with Ethan beside me, so I’d save my rest for when Ethan was gone. There was no point when the terrors came at night, anyway.

  Outside the window, the trees danced with the moon, and I watched them swaying for hours with Ethan’s arm clasped around me in a tight hold. Even though his hands were on me, he couldn’t touch me.

  Oscar had transferred to High Down, which wasn’t the worst prison in the surrounding area. Good for him. But, if I was honest, I liked the idea of knowing he was at the shit-hole Bronzefield, but at least High Down was closer.

  The last time I’d seen Oscar was during sentencing. They’d allowed me to be there, and the smirk marring his mouth branded an unwanted memory ever since. It was a silent promise he’d find a way to get back at me for what I did—for what we both knew I’d taken from him.

  But Oscar had it coming. For years, I’d watched him not only objectify women but brainwash them into submission to fuck them senseless. For years, he bullied and mentally-terrorized girls, grooming them into loving his sadistic nature. And For years, I’d become his project, wanting to turn me into his sidekick under his prostitution ring … What had the police called it? Oh, yeah. White Fox.

  The cigarette between my two fingers burned, pulling me from the past. One last drag and the menthol slithered to my lungs before I flicked the nasty stick over the cracked pavement of the car park. Thanks to Travis, it only took two days for me to pick up the habit. The gum was useless at this point. Cigarettes kept my hands and grinding jaw occupied.

  The sun peeked from the morning clouds, and I squinted toward the prison doors. Two minutes, and I would be face to face with my low-life brother again. I pushed off my newest purchase. An early 2000 station wagon. Black. I’d found it in a newspaper ad and negotiated my way down because the lady was eager to sell. Every day, the rental had taken a jab at Mia’s and my bank account, and Travis mentioned I could pay cash for something newer. But I didn’t need a fancy car. The bloody thing dropped in value every day, and I wasn’t a fool when it came to money. And I especially wasn’t foolish to waste a dollar to impress strangers. As long as it got me from point A to point B, the heap of junk would work the way I needed.

  “When Hijack mentioned I had a visitor from no other than Oliver fucking Masters, I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes,” Oscar scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his grin. “Please, tell me, little brother, what do I owe this pleasure?”

  This visit wasn’t like what you would see on the telly. There was no glass separating me from Oscar’s vicious glare. Oscar’s black hair had grown out, and the tips touched his cheeks, where his deceiving smile rested. His dark eyes traveled over my attire, judging me and my freedom.

  But despite my new-found freedom from Dolor, I was still a slave to heartache. The guards took my beanie before I entered the room, and every day I still wore either sweats or the black jeans and basic shirts that screamed I’d never left the world Mia and I were in, wanting to stay there for as long as possible. Travis said it was time to shop for new clothes, especially since I had my first book signing coming up, but I didn’t have time to go shopping when Mia had simply vanished.

  My knee bounced under the circular table, reminding me of the one from the mess hall at Dolor as Oscar took a seat across from me, getting himself as comfortable as he could with chains around his ankles. “What have you done?” I tried to say, but it came out more like a cry for help. My chest heaved harshly to the point it hurt to breathe.

  “You’re going to have to be a tad more specific,” Oscar chuckled and dropped his gaze to his arrested hands in his lap, “I’ve done a lot of things, including your precious Mia.”

  Oscar and Mia had sex, which had screwed with my head for a while. But I’d learned to look past it. He couldn’t use that as a weapon any longer. “Where is she?” My voice raised, and I stopped and looked around to see correctional officers eyeing our exchange. I lowered my tone, “If I find her—when I find her—if one bloody hair is harmed on her body, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “Dolor did a number on you, yeah?” Oscar raised a brow and moved his chained hands over the table to lean in. “Do you hear yourself? Look at me,”—he dropped his eyes to the chains— “What could I possibly do?”

  “Who have you been in contact with?”

  “Oliver, you sound like you’ve gone mad. I think you need help.”

  I shook my head, my heart pounding out of my chest. “This isn’t funny. We both know you took her and why. Tell me where she is.”

  “We’re still talking about Mia, right?”

  “For fuck’s sake, yes. Mia.” These games grew old fast, and he was already getting inside my head, using my desperation as entertainment. I should’ve known better.

  “You know what I want. Give me what’s mine, and I’ll release her,” Oscar said in a low tone. His fingers managed to scratch the back of his other hand, a habit he had his entire life. His brow raised, waiting for a response. But with that single scratch, he’d already told me what I needed to know. He didn’t have her. “What’s it going to be?”

  If Oscar didn’t have Mia, it only confirmed Ethan Scott’s involvement, and Oscar couldn’t help me. It was true, I’d do just about anything to get Mia back, including asking for my brother’s assistance, but Oscar would be of no use to me. I needed someone on the outside—a person who had connections and more access than a phone call and an eight-day wait for visitation.

  I stood and pushed in the chair as Oscar straightened in his when he noticed this conversation was over. “I’m not coming back, O. I hope this place changes you, I do. And for your health, I hope to God you had nothing to do with Mia’s disappearance because if I find out it was you,” I leaned in, leaving only a challenging space between us, “
You’ll never step foot outside of High Down. Don’t underestimate me. You have no idea how far I’m willing to go.”

  Fury swallowed his smile as he stood to match my height. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Come on,” I laughed, “You know me. I don’t make threats.” I tousled his greasy hair with a smirk. “Don’t bend over, big brother.”

  “You stole from me, you bloody bastard!” His cuffs bounced off the table, and his shouts faded as I walked away. Guards rushed past me, and I swallowed the smile wanting to merge with my lips.

  The mobile sitting on the dresser blew up, ring after ring, every call either Travis or Laurie, my contact with the publishing house. For days, I’d ignored everyone, and today was no different. My greedy eyes remained on the digital clock over the nightstand back at the hotel room, awaiting the proper time to ring Bruce, Mia’s dad.

  Pennsylvania was only five hours behind me, and it was a tad past noon. Not a day went by I didn’t make that call, eight in the morning his time, to see if Mia showed. Today would be no different.

  And for thirty more minutes, my fist clenched as I sat at the edge of the made-up bed, staring at the green letters until they blurred into an unrecognizable shape.

  At exactly 1:00 pm my time, my alarm went off, and I swiped the mobile off the nightstand.

  “Nothing,” Bruce greeted me through a weary sigh. “You know you don’t have to call every day. I’ll call you if she shows up.”

  I appreciate it, Bruce, but I’m still calling. “Did you file a missing person’s report yet?”

  The hesitation in the silence lingered for a moment, and I already had my answer.

  “Oli—

  “No, don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “I want to believe that, but I know different.”

  “I’ll call you if she shows.”

  “I’ll ring you tomorrow.”

  And that’s how the conversation had usually gone. Mia had always said her relationship with her dad had been estranged from the moment her mum died. My faith in humanity was slowly dissolving with each passing day. It had always been Mia against the world, but now it was the two of us against them. She had me, and I hoped it would be enough to save her.

  My resources were limited, coming straight from a reformatory school without many friends. Jinx swiped Ethan’s address from Lynch’s office out of the goodness of his heart, but I still wired his mother funds to keep food in the fridge. He said it wasn’t necessary, but I couldn’t let his family go hungry either. Jinx was a good man. He worked hard and stayed away from trouble for the most part. But like every other bloke, his biggest weakness was girls. And Jinx liked to drink from a tall, white glass of milk. His words, not mine.

  A few days ago, I’d driven past Ethan’s house to find no one home. I’d even peeked through the windows and challenged every lock, but nothing. Only a nosy neighbor who wanted to know what I was doing loitering around Ethan’s cookie-cutter home. After striking a conversation, the polished older lady had mentioned she hadn’t seen him or his car in a week, which wasn’t unusual for him. He’d always leave for weeks at a time. I’d also tried his mobile, but the number was disconnected.

  During my last visit with Lynch, he’d informed me that Ethan resigned by email, and he’d taken off on release day, which also wasn’t unusual. Lynch only had him in contract until that day. None of it made sense. It was all too easy—too clean.

  The rap at the door grabbed my attention.

  “It’s Travis. Your mate. Remember me? Pretty blond hair. Irresistible blue eyes.” I made no movements to get up, but then … Another knock. “C’mon, mate. It’s cold out here, and I need to talk to you.”

  I stood and walked to the door to unlock it. Travis sauntered in and plopped over a navy armchair, making himself comfortable. Regarding my shirtless chest and joggers, he raised a brow. “You can’t go to Thurrock like that.” I paused and narrowed my eyes, waiting for him to drop a laugh or a line to indicate he was joking. For two and a half seconds, we had a stare-off. “I’m serious,” he added.

  “No, no, no, no …” I shook my head and dropped over the edge of the mattress with my head in my hands. My chin fastened between my fingers, and I peered up at him. “I left that place two years ago, Trav. I’m never going back.” My main focus was on finding Mia. There was no reason good enough to go back to that shit-hole. None.

  “Summer’s receiving calls. Threats. The Links are looking to collect. I only need you there to back me up.”

  Except for that.

  I groaned. “I thought you were past the Links and moved on from that life. What about Summer? The baby?” Guilt ate at his features as he ran the pad of his thumb over the flint wheel of the lighter, igniting and watching the flame fade away. Over and over. “What do they want?” I finally asked with my hands in the air.

  The vein in his neck popped, making the angel wings tattoo come to life. Trav’s eyes moved from where the flame disappeared to me. “They want me to finish the job I was arrested for.”

  “How much?” I’d rather pay them off and finally get him out of this mess. There wasn’t an amount I wouldn’t pay for Summer and their baby’s safety. He’d finally got his life in order. How long has he been keeping this from me?

  “I’m not asking you for money.” The lighter disappeared inside his fist as he leaned closer. “I’m meeting them at Jack’s. The pub in Ockendon. It’s an hour from here—”

  “I know where it is,” I seethed.

  “You can stay in the car. I just need someone there in case the conversation goes south.”

  “South …” I laughed incredulously, “South. You’re walking in and saying what? Thank you but no thanks, I’m out. You can’t be serious, Trav. What direction are you expecting this to go? East? They’re not going to let you out until you get the job done. And even then, I’d be shocked it would ever be over.” Travis had asked me because he knew I’d never say no, taking advantage of my humanity. However, my main focus was on finding Mia.

  Travis answered my turbulent thoughts, “You’re right. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t let anything happen to Summer. To the baby. I’m desperate here. It’s like no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape the past … I. Can’t. Run. Fast. Enough.”

  In the face of my boundless heart, Travis and I had piled into his banger. Though the hour drive was silent, my head, heart, and soul screamed for Mia. It was painful being this far from her. I understood Travis’s fear, the reason I’d gotten into his car, to begin with. No matter how hard I tried, it was as if the entire world was against the two of us being together, our love tested. I was desperate but had no direction on which way to go. Lost. I was fucking lost.

  “You staying?” Travis asked from the driver’s side once we pulled up to the white standalone building. We couldn’t see in through the blacked-out windows to Jack’s, but there were numerous cars out front. Expensive cars. They were here—the Links.

  I shook my head, climbed out of the car, and stretched my legs. Travis was my friend, and the hour drive gave me time to think this through. His head popped from over the hood on the other side. “I have a plan, but you have to follow my lead.” I pulled my hood over my head and peered back over at him, resting two hands over the top of the car. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life.”

  My hands tapped the hood once, and we took off inside. The bell chimed, acknowledging our presence. Travis stepped around me and nodded his head over to the bar, where a group of three men huddled. I’d been around intimidating men my entire life between the business Oscar was in, and the johns Mum used to bring home.

  “Travis, you brought a friend,” the smallest of the three greeted Trav with a grip on the shoulder and nodded in my direction, “How was your time?”

  Patrons of the bar eyed our interaction before going back to their day drinking. This was the norm around
here in Ockendon—at Jack’s. Five men with tattoos in black at this hour only meant dodgy business. I stood behind Travis with my arms crossed over my chest.

  The Links were just that, links made up of petty crimes and drug deals to fund a more prominent trade at the top—a pyramid scheme. If a bottom link snapped, the organization still held strong.

  “Have a seat,” a voice stated from a stool behind the other two. “Doris, a round for my friends.” The bartender dropped two glasses over the bar in my peripheral. My eyes stayed glued to the man who radiated arrogance, legs parted, posture relaxed. Most likely packing behind his excessively loose jeans and jacket. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  Travis stepped to the side to reveal me, and that’s when his eyes found mine.

  Dex Sullivan.

  He chuckled and ran a palm down his face. “Baby Oscar, is that you?” Dex stood, and the other two men backed up, giving the king room. He placed both hands on my shoulders and searched my eyes. “It is you,” he grinned, “It’s been a long time, Oliver.”

  “Not long enough.”

  Dex gripped my chin to get a better look, and I narrowed my eyes. Oscar and Dex were mates growing up, always in competition with one another, racing up the ladder of crime. Oscar put together White Fox, losing his best mate in the process. Because of envy and greed, the two had a falling out. It seemed Dex went to the competition. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for slamming your brother. Tosser deserved it, yeah?” Dex swiped the drink from the bar and shoved it into my chest. “To Oliver!”

  “To Oliver!” The regulars shouted in unison.

  “Drink up, mate.” Dex flashed a menacing white smile. “Doris, let’s do another. This is a celebration.” He twirled his finger, and my hand gripped the glass before chugging it and slamming it over the bar face down. Travis’s brows snapped together, and I shook my head. It wasn’t the time to explain. Dex and I had more important things to discuss. “Oliver Masters, the boy who spits on fanny before he smashes,” Dexter chuckled, “You know, we call it OJ’ing now. You’re a fucking legend, baby O.”

 

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