His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1)

by SAKINA HUSSAIN

  "No, I thought she was living with you. Goodness knows where she's ran off to now, she's always been trouble." Mrs Cole replies, shaking her head disappointingly. Her words turn icy whenever she speaks of Emily and I glare at her, disappointed for Emily that this is her mother.

  She deserves a better parent.

  "Trouble? You think Emily is trouble? How much trouble can she be when your husband was beating her so she had to lock herself in her own room for years?" I ask her, my voice raising with anger.

  Mrs Cole appears taken aback before she huffs dramatically and slam the door in my face, causing it to shake on its hinges. I grit my teeth and walk away, pulling my phone out of my pocket. He's my last hope and I pray he knows where she is. I dial the number and wait for him to pick up.

  "Hello?"

  His voice is as smooth and deep as ever.

  "Amil, I need your help. It's Emily." I reply, leaning against a brick wall at the end of the street. I kick around a stone, waiting for my boss to respond.

  "She's missing, isn't she?"

  His tone dull and uninterested. I stand up straighter, clutching onto the phone tighter.

  "You knew and you didn't tell me?" I snap back at him, the anger inside of me ready to burst.

  "Jake, Jake, Jake. . . Jones has her. That's why I didn't tell you. The girl is probably dead by now."

  I freeze and feel my heart physically fall to the pit of my stomach. An emotion I'm not accustomed to feeling washes over me and I realise it's fear.

  "You have to tell me where he is. I'll find him and I'll kill him. I swear if he's hurt her, I'll kill him!" I yell, becoming increasingly desperate and scared. Scared that I'll never see her again. I pace up and down the sidewalk, tugging at my hair with my free hand. My blood runs cold knowing Jones has her, he finally got what he wanted. I didn't realise just how crazy he really was.

  Did he do this to get back at me or Amil?

  If not, how does he know Emily?

  My mind buzzes and I feel the need to hit something or someone stronger than I ever have before.

  "Jake, she is just a girl. Let her go," Amil says trying but failing to calm me down. The lid on top of my bottle of anger finally exploded.

  'She isn't just a girl Amil! She's my girl. What happened to having each other's backs? I've been loyal to you for years, I've never asked for anything in return. This one time I ask for your help and you refuse. You've wanted Jones dead for a long time, he betrayed us! This is your chance, he won't see it coming and we can catch him by surprise. Even if you don't help me, I'll go and get Emily back myself and whilst I'm there, I'll kill Jones. If he manages to put a bullet through me first then I guess you'll end up losing one of your best. The only one who doesn't ask questions and gets shit done! Every damn time."

  My words holds truth behind every single one and I pause, breathing heavily whilst waiting for his response. He's silent for a few minutes and I can practically see the gears working inside of his head. Finally after what seems like a century he replies —

  "We better kill him before he kills you."

  I let out the deep breath I didn't realise I was holding and closed my eyes, feeling extremely relieved. With the gang having my back, I knew the chances of getting Emily back was a lot higher. I put the phone back next to my ear —

  "Thank you," I whisper gratefully before ending the call. I push myself off the wall and head in the direction where I know he'll be waiting. Along the way, I mentally prepare myself for the fight we have ahead of us. Shit is about to go down.

  Amil's daunting words keep repeating in my head no matter how hard I try to ignore them.

  The girl is probably already dead by now.

  I shake my head profusely, refusing to believe his words. She can't be dead, I've only just opened myself up to love again and I'm not ready to have the best thing that ever happened to me ripped away so brutally.

  I'm going to get her back. . . Even if it kills me.

  Chapter Thirty Three - DNA.

  The wooden door flings open, smashing into the wall behind it and I jolt awake, backing myself as far into the wall as I can go. My eyes narrow at the man stood in the doorway and I swallow the lump in my throat, determined to show him I'm not scared. I really am, I'm petrified. I've learned the hard way to never show fear to men like Trevor and DC Jones. They thrive off it, it's what fuels them to carry out their evil actions. Others need oxygen to survive, not these kind of people. They live off fear, it's what keeps their heart beating.

  "I was having a rather pleasant dream, do you mind shutting the door on your way out so I can go back to it?" The sarcasm drips from my every word.

  Jones' dark eyes narrow and pierce straight through me, seeing every scar . . . every insecurity. His lips twitch in amusement, knowing he's making me uncomfortable. Asshole.

  I sigh dramatically, facing away from him. I rest my head on my arms once again, my throat has been dry for hours and now felt as rough as Trish after a long boozy weekend.

  I'm too proud and stubborn to ask him for a drink, I wouldn't dare ask him for anything. He's completely ignored my screams for help and I've given up on the idea of anyone hearing my pleas. The only sounds that can be heard around here is his footsteps and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

  "Do you want something to eat Emily?" He breaks the silence between us, walking a few steps towards me.

  "Don't come any closer!" I warn, snapping at him. He laughs at my words, his head falling back slightly.

  "If you haven't already realised darling, you're the one tied up, not me."

  I ignore his words, turning to face the dull wall. My throat throbs painfully and I try to hydrate it using my own saliva. It's completely dried out and I feel severely dehydrated to the point I want to be sick.

  "Water," I croak out, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I refuse to look at him, my captor. I hear him leave the room for a few minutes before entering it again. He walks towards me and my body stiffens from having his presence near me. DC Jones bends down till he's at my level.

  "Turn around."

  I obey, hating the way I feel like a victim. He holds a glass of water in his hand and he brings it closer to my lips, allowing me to take a sip of it. I swallow the cool liquid greedily and lean forward for another drink.

  "How about you take these ropes off my hands so I can drink it myself?" I ask before taking another large gulp. Half of the water misses my mouth and ends up down my chin and I squeeze my eyes shut, embarrassed at the state I'm in.

  "I'm not stupid Emily." DC Jones sighs, placing the empty glass down next to me. He stands and walks over to the wooden chair in the corner of the room. I narrow my eyes as he lowers himself down, taking a seat.

  "Why have you done this to me?"

  "Because there's no other way." DC Jones shakes his head sadly, his eyes filling with remorse. I frown, clearly not understanding what is going on here.

  "No other way for what? Who are you? Let me go!" I yell, my patience running out. I struggle against the rope and a tear of frustration slides down my cheek followed by another. Soon enough I'm full on sobbing, my chest heaving heavily up and down. DC Jones walks over to my side and raises his hand.

  This is it.

  I immediately freeze, my breath caught in my throat. His hand comes down and instead of hitting me which was my original thought, he strokes the top of my hair soothingly. I stiffen and move my head as far away from his as I can. His touch makes me feel sick to my stomach. He notices my hostility towards him and stiffens up. I breathed a sigh of relief as he takes a few steps backwards.

  "I'll get the police, they'll lock you up for this," I hiss, hating the man with every bone in my body. DC Jones looks at me as if I've grown two heads before he bursts out laughing, the evil glint in his eyes shimmering away. He clutches at his stomach before bending over, laughing hysterically whilst I watch him in silence, dumbfounded at how messed up this man is.

  "Oh honey, you crack me up. I am the p
olice."

  My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as I realise he's right - he is the police. The police can't help me. No-one can help me. I'm screwed, well and truly screwed.

  "Please, just let me go. I'll do anything." I plead, fearing for my life now more than ever.

  "I'm never going to let you go Emily, not again. Never again."

  "Please!" I beg, lunging towards him. I'm immediately pulled back as the stinging pain in my foot causes me to stumble backwards, slamming my back into the metal frame of the bed.

  "I want to go home!" I cry harder, the tears falling fast. I'm cold, tired, hungry, scared, hurt and above all, I miss Jake like crazy. The empty void in my heart and stomach is causing me to go crazy. I miss his touch, his safe scent. I miss him.

  "But Emily, you are home," Jones replies, cupping my chin in his hands, forcing me to look at him. I stop crying as I stare hatefully into the eyes of the man that I loath.

  "This isn't my home, you sick bastard!"

  "Yes it is!" He snaps back, his eyes turning a dark shade of blue with fury.

  "You belong with me!" He adds, dropping my chin before walking away from me towards the door. Before he leaves, he turns back around, the same murderous glint in his eye.

  "You belong with your father."

  He slams the door shut, leaving me alone on the floor once again. His words ring loudly through my ears, stabbing my chest over and over again, making it hard to breathe. I shake my head repeatedly, refusing to believe him.

  How can it be?

  He's my father.

  DC Jones is my father.

  Chapter Thirty Four - Rescue Mission.

  Jake's POV -

  "It's been a while baby," I chuckle, passing the small pistol between my hands. It's as smooth as I remember it, not too heavy but with enough weight to get a good grip. The pistol is a perfect fit for my hands, I have lots of love for this gun. It had saved my life quite a few times before and I shake my head, remembering all the memories of scarier days. I point it towards Brett, another gang member and shut one eye, aiming directly in the area his heart is.

  "Bang."

  Brett clutches his heart dramatically and I lower my gun, grinning at him. He rolls onto the floor, clutching his heart before sputtering and choking. I chuckle at him before tucking my gun back into the waistband of my jeans and cover it over with my shirt and jacket.

  "You're so dramatic," I grin towards Brett. He stands up, dusting himself off before replying.

  "There's always the dramatic one in every gang," he responds playfully and I chuckle before turning my attention back to my phone. Amil isn't going to show up. . . I should have known.

  I sigh heavily, knowing my boss would pull a stunt like this. Instead he sent over two guys to replace him, Brett and Jamie. Both have been gang members for a few years. Jamie is tall and skinny with a blonde buzzcut and Brett is built wide, muscular and has dark jet black hair. I get on well with both guys and don't mind going with them instead of Amil.

  He always did get others to do his dirty work for him.

  "So we go in, kill Jones and get the girl back basically?" Brett asks me and I nod, pocketing my phone before replying.

  "I'll be the first one in, Jones should be by himself but he might have one or two men with him. Basically we're going in blind."

  "Take him by surprise, he's a hell of a fighter so watch out for that. He'll probably have a few weapons on him. He's only expecting me to show up so we have the upper hand. Whoever finds Emily first needs to get her away from there as far as possible." I explain. Brett and Jamie nod and I know they wanted to know more about the situation with Emily and I. I don't blame them considering they're risking their lives for her.

  "I appreciate what you're doing." I nod towards them and they nod back, signalling they understood. I sigh and head for the door, Brett and Jamie right behind me. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins knowing what we were about to do.

  "Let's go."

  We all leave the room, closing the door behind us, not knowing if we would ever see the same four walls again.

  *****

  Emily's POV-

  "Eat Emily," DC Jones pushes the plate towards me. I stare back at him, my eyes emotionless and bloodshot from lack of sleep.

  "Fuck you," I spit, hatred running through my blood. I feel weak and the last thing on my mind is food. I grimace at the plate before I turn away from him, staring at the same spot on the wall that I've done for hours now. I don't know the time, I don't even know what day it is.

  I could only recognise day and night by the small window above me. When the sun streamed through the window, I would lie flat, soaking in the warmth. However when darkness greeted me, so did the cold. I spent my nights shivering in my thin clothes on the floor, praying for someone to come rescue me.

  Ever since I found out DC Jones is my biological father, I became emotionless and detached. My mind and thoughts are one big blur and I feel defeated. I've given up, forever staying slumped against the metal bed.

  "Emily, eat." Jones demands, pushing the plate towards me once again. I ignore him and instead shut my eyes, picturing my father. My real father.

  He looks sad in my thoughts, his eyes full of pained emotion. He always did wear his heart on his sleeve and I knew by looking at his face what kind of emotion he was feeling. I loved that about him, how he was so open and honest. No games, nothing underneath the surface.

  What you saw is what you got.

  "I want my dad," I whisper, my voice croaky and husky from lack of use. It's the first words I've spoken for a while, the first time my mind isn't jumbled and confused by what I want.

  "I'm here." DC Jones responds and I snap my head towards him, eyes burning with a new found fire.

  "You are NOT my father! You will never be my father, I hate you. I wish you would have stayed out of my life. What kind of father ties his own daughter up to a metal bed!" I scream, holding my arms up.

  "My wrists are bleeding," I continue, my words icy and laced with nothing but venom.

  "My wrists have been bleeding because these ropes are so tight and you won't take them off me! Do I look like I'm going to run? Huh?!" I yell, my voice rising.

  DC Jones looks taken aback, shocked from my outburst considering I've been silent this whole time. Suddenly his eyes filled with regret and sadness and I scoff at him —

  "Regret it now, do you?"

  "I am your father," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "My father's dead!" I shot back at him, swallowing the painful lump I get whenever I speak of him.

  "No he's not, I'm your real father! Not that waste of space!" DC Jones snaps, kicking over the chair in the corner. It lands on the floor with a thud and I turn to face him one last time.

  "Don't you dare bad mouth him! My father will always be a better father than you, a better man. He's dead and he does a better job than you are right now." I respond, my words angering DC Jones further. His jaw clenches tightly and the vein in his neck pumps with the adrenaline from his anger.

  "If you gave me a gun now, I'd shoot you. That's how much I hate you." I say calmly, my words monotoned.

  "You're already dead to me," I add before turning over and lying on the cold floor, my back facing DC Jones. I can hear him breathing heavily behind me, digesting my words. He suddenly yells loudly and I hear something heavy smash to the floor.

  As he continues to pound the furniture in the room, I close my eyes and let the tears fall silently. It isn't hard to drown out the deafening noises behind me.

  I already feel dead inside.

  *****

  Darkness greets me and the wind whistled through the window into the room, causing me to shiver for the hundred time. The room had dropped in temperature so quickly, I didn't have time to prepare myself. My body felt stiff from lack of movement and the cold air did nothing but make it worse. I shut my eyes tightly and huddle closer to the wall, not caring anymore about the filth it was c
overed in.

  I'm desperate to keep in some of my body heat.

  The door suddenly shot open and my eyes flings awake, turning towards him. DC Jones stands there, his own eyes wide with panic. He shut the door before pushing over a large dresser in front of it effortlessly. He turns around and signals for me to stay quiet. I scrunch my brows tightly...

  What the hell was going on?

  "What are you doing?" I ask huskily, my throat aching as I speak.

  "Shut up." DC Jones hisses angrily at me before grabbing something from the back of his jeans. My eyes widen as I make out the small black shape in his hands, a gun. This is it, he's going to kill me.

  He walks towards me and I whimper, shutting my eyes as I wait for the barrel of the gun to meet my head.

  "Emily." DC Jones hisses and I open my eyes slowly, tears falling fast down my face.

  "Don't kill me," I plead and he hisses angrily, lunging himself towards me. I barely have a chance to scream before his large hand is clamped over my mouth, muffling any sound I make. His other hand begins to untie the ropes behind my back, loosening the knots.

  "You're coming with me," he growls, his hold on me iron tight. The tears fall faster and my heart thumps wildly in my chest, threatening to break through. I can feel the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.

  "Please," I whimper, pleading for my life.

  "Shut up." DC Jones repeats into my ear. One of his hands holds the gun and I cry, terrified of it being so close to me. I hear something rustle outside of the door and my eyes widen immediately.

  Someone is here.

  This was it, this was my chance to get the hell out of here. I instantly scream loudly, shouting for help. DC Jones hand tightens over my mouth, muffling my screams. I lash out wildly, head butting DC Jones in the process. His immediate reaction is to let go and cradle his head where I smashed mine into his. I shuffle away from him as much as I can before taking a deep breath —

  "Help! I'm in here! Please help me! Help!"

  My lungs ache and DC Jones charges towards me, angrier than a bull in a flaming bullfight. His hand shoots out and he punches the side of my head, causing me to fall hard onto the floor. The pounding in my head is now so loud, I couldn't hear anything besides the ringing in my ears. The spot where he punched me throbs painfully and I groan, crying in pain. DC Jones wastes no time in pointing the barrel of his gun against my temple.