Darkest Hour

by Bella Jewel

  Slater doesn’t flinch at these words, he simply nods and extends his hand. “You have my word.”

  I believe him. I trust him. And I know Malakai does, too. There is something about Slater, something real. He isn’t sketchy or shady, he just made it very clear why he has been by my father’s side for so long, why he has been so loyal. Because he has lost someone very close to him and would do anything to find her.

  What happened to her?

  I’m burning to know.

  “Slater,” I ask, crossing my arms and rubbing them, “the girl you’re speaking of, what happened to her?”

  Malakai steps back, and Koda steps forward. “Got resources. Good tracker. We can help you find her, you help us get rid of that motherfucker.”

  “Shanks is the only person who might know where she is, or who the fuck has her, and he is keepin’ it wrapped up tight. Can’t wait forever for him to break it loose, got to try somewhere else. Got to get answers. Got to get closure. Her name is Ellie ...”

  The moment he says that name, my knees shake and I stumble backward, crashing into a coffee table. Koda moves quickly, grabbing hold of my arm so I don’t fall. Tears burn under my eyelids, and vomit rises in my throat. Koda steadies me, but my head is spinning. Everything feels like it’s going to collapse around me.

  Ellie.

  The girl in the basement. The girl I tried to save but nobody could find her. The girl my father said didn’t exist. The girl I walked out on because I was too afraid to help her. The stolen, broken girl that was in chains.

  I hiccup and make a pained sound.

  Slater steps toward me, big hand curling around my upper arm, and he pulls me close, forcing Koda to let go. He leans in, eyes holding mine. “You know somethin’. You fuckin’ know somethin’.”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I know something.”

  All eyes turn to me.

  “Speak,” Slater demands.

  “I-I-I-I,” I stammer, then take a deep breath and whisper, “Let me go so I can stand up straight, and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  Slater lets me go, and I compose myself, standing up straight. This isn’t a time for fall into a heap. I need to stay calm, even though my chest is tight, my heart is racing, and my stomach is turning. I didn’t know that girl was Slater’s—hell, I didn’t know much about her at all, just that she was in a basement, and when I tried to find out more, everyone acted like she didn’t exist.

  But I knew she did.

  And I didn’t help her.

  I should have helped her.

  A decade.

  A whole decade.

  What happened to her in that time?

  ~*~*~*~

  THEN – CHARLIE

  “What did you find out?” my father barks. “Did you get anything?”

  I shake my head. “No, he had nothing in his office, or bedroom, and there was nothing to indicate he is double crossing you. Though him and Carl were having a deep conversation, they stopped quickly when I came in.”

  My father’s face darkens. “If that boy is in on it, I’ll gut him ...”

  “I don’t think he is, but I think his uncle is trying to get him in on it. As far as I know, Carl is interested in working with you. Very interested. I think his uncle is twisting things to make it seem like he’s on your side, but there is a chance he’s giving Carl the wrong information, possibly to get him to make the mistake and get caught for it.”

  My father nods, almost looking impressed. “Very smart man. What else?”

  Should I tell him about Ellie? Should I tell him that I found her? If I call the police, I’ll end up dead, probably worse, my father would make sure of it. If my father thinks Carl’s uncle is against him, he might just use Ellie, get her out, use her to get his uncle into trouble, and she might go free. I don’t know how else I’ll get that girl out of there.

  I honestly don’t.

  “There is something else.”

  My father steps forward, curling a hand around my shoulder and squeezing so hard, I wince. “What the fuck have I said about dancing around? You tell me everything I need to fuckin’ know, and you do it quickly.”

  My eyes water from the pain, and after a second, he finally lets go. I step back, shoulder throbbing. I hate him. I hate him so much it burns. Right down into the depths of my soul.

  “There was a girl,” I say, warily. I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’m about to condemn the girl forever, or set her free. Either way, there is no hope of me getting back into that house again, not even with Carl, and to get into the basement again is zero to none chance. Which means this is my only chance.

  My father glances at me, eyes empty, and hard. “What girl?”

  “I found a door ... in his bedroom. It went down into a basement. There was a girl in there, she was chained up, and scared, and she said her name was Ellie.”

  My father’s eyes flare, and he steps forward so fast I jerk when his hand curls around my shoulder once more. “There was no fuckin’ girl. You understand me?”

  Huh?

  “Yes, there was ... There was a girl and—”

  He raises a fist and hits me so hard I go flying back, slamming into his desk so hard the corner hits my spine and I scream out in agony. I drop to the ground, and my father comes over, crouching down and curling his fist in my hair, jerking me up until I’m screaming in pain. “There is no fucking girl. I ever hear you mention it, I ever hear you say that again, I will put a knife against your throat and slit it. I don’t fuckin’ need you, bitch.”

  “Yes, you do,” I spit back, fire and pain ripping through my body. “There was a—”

  He hits me so hard my jaw cracks and my screams fill the room. I roll backward, crying in pain, and he walks over, putting his boot to my throat and pushing down so hard I can’t breathe. The pressure is so intense, and for a moment, I see my life flash before me. The pathetic, broken life I’ve been leading because of this man.

  This monster.

  When I start to see stars and my vision blurs, I know he could do it. He could honestly do it. He’s beaten me so many times I have forgotten the amount, and he’s spat cruel words at me, and he’s done so many awful things. But I never actually thought he could kill me. But when I look up into his eyes now and see the cold ones staring back down at me.

  I know he could.

  And he will.

  Eventually, he will kill me.

  I need to get free.

  “There was no girl,” I rasp out.

  He holds his boot for a second longer, and I’m worried that he’ll leave it there, but eventually, he lifts it off and growls, “Ever mention her name again, I will kill you. I promise you that.”

  With that, I crawl out of his office and push to my feet, stumbling down the hall until I can find my purse. I grab my keys, and I walk out of his house. I go to my car, and I drive to the police station. Maybe my father will kill me for this, but the fact of the matter is, he’s going to kill me anyway. I’ve lived in fear for too long. If that’s how I’m going to end, then I’m not going to let him go down easily.

  I reach the local station; it’s massive, one of the best in town. I get out of my car and walk into the front doors. The receptionist takes one look at my bloody face and picks up the phone, calling someone. I walk up to the desk, and whisper, “I need your best detective.”

  She nods, her mouth wide as she stares at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Just get me one. Please. Now.”

  I stumble back into the chair, my body in agony, everything inside me broken, including my spirit. I don’t care anymore. If this is how it’s going to end for me, so be it.

  I can’t live like this a second longer.

  “Miss?”

  I look up and see a man in his thirties somewhere, standing in front of me, looking down, his eyes soft. He has brown eyes, the kind you’ll never forget. Warm, and kind, and framed with thick lashes. His hair is dark, and wavy, and thick. Maybe Italian, maybe Maltese? I’
m not sure. He’s handsome, and he looks safe.

  “Are you a detective?” I whisper.

  He nods. “I am.” He extends a hand. “I’m Oliver. How can I help you?”

  Oliver.

  I don’t hope you can help me.

  I hope you can save me.

  -18-

  NOW – KODA

  He puts his fuckin’ hand on her one more time, I’m goin’ to lose my mind. I don’t like that big fuckin’ giant putting his fingers all over her. Grabbing her like he’s going to rip her head off. Whatever this girl means to him, it’s enough for his eyes to have glazed over. Probably with desperation. I step up close, growling, “Let her go, or so help me, I’ll fuckin’ shoot you.”

  Slater looks to me, and his eyes clear up a little. He looks back to Charlie, and then makes a growling sound, but lets her go.

  She steps back, rubbing her upper arms, but the look on her face is pure devastation. She knows Ellie, whoever she is. And he didn’t know that. Hell, I don’t think even Charlie connected the dots.

  “Talk to him, Charlie,” Malakai says. “Tell him what he needs to know, because we need him, it’s the only chance we got left.”

  Charlie nods, and looks to Slater. “For what it’s worth, Slater. I didn’t know she had anything to do with you. If I did, god, I would have called ... I would have ...”

  “Where is she?” Slater grinds out.

  “I don’t know, that’s the honest truth, but you’re right my father does know about it. I was scoping out a house for him, as you do. My boyfriend at the time, Carl, it was his uncle’s house.”

  “Shaun?” Slater grinds out. “Shaun Mercury?”

  She nods. “I didn’t know his name until now, he was always just Carl’s uncle. Anyway, I was at his house. My father was certain Shaun was double crossing him, so he wanted me to find information, the normal. I was searching through his room when I found a door, it led down to a basement and I found a girl in there. She was ... chained up.”

  Slater’s eyes flare and his fists clench. This girl, she obviously meant a fuck of a lot to him, by the way he’s panting with built-up emotion right now.

  “I’m so sorry, Slater. Again, I didn’t know it was any relation to you.”

  “What was happening to her?” Slater demands through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t know, she was chained up, in a pretty bad way. She told me she’d been taken while on a vacation ...”

  Slater closes his eyes, his panting so deep his chest is rising and falling rapidly and his body is shaking. “Yeah,” he grinds out. “We were on vacation. She went missing.”

  Charlie looks to him. “You didn’t know she was so close?”

  “If I had known,” Slater bellows, “I’d have fuckin’ saved her!”

  Charlie flinches and steps back, that steely look coming across her face. She’ll take so much out of pity, but she won’t allow herself to be spoken to like trash. “Slater, I understand you’re angry and frustrated, and probably feeling a pain nobody could even begin to understand, but if you want me to continue, then do not yell at me any further. I don’t appreciate it.”

  Slater opens his eyes and glances at her, their eyes holding for a few moments, and then he takes a deep, angry sounding breath and nods.

  “Thank you,” Charlie continues. “Anyway, she told me she had been there for a year.”

  “Fuck,” Slater grinds out, and I can hear the pain in his voice.

  Poor bastard.

  Fuck.

  It would suck to find out she was so close all that time and he didn’t know. He had no idea. Hell, he’d probably been in that house.

  “I couldn’t get her out,” Charlie says, and I don’t miss the flash of guilt that crosses her face. Like she blames herself for that. “If I tried, we would have both been killed. I knew that. So, I got her name, and I got out of there. I mentioned it to my father, because at that point, I didn’t know who else might have the information. I thought ... I thought if I mentioned what I’d found, he’d give something away ... he didn’t. He flipped out, beat me to a bloody pulp and told me I’d never seen a girl. That was the first night he nearly took my life.”

  Fucking wild anger, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, bubbles in my chest and I find myself panting just to keep it inside. If I ever get my hands on that filthy motherfucker, I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him and make it the most painful fucking thing he’s ever felt in his pathetic life.

  “He knew about it, and whatever reason they had her, I figured at the time, was part of whatever operation they were running. For the first time, I thought maybe they might have been buying and selling girls. Anyway, I had no other option. That was the night I went to Oliver. I got his protection. I told him everything I knew. When we went to look for Ellie, she was gone. No trace of her. It was as if she didn’t exist. But I did try, Slater. I swear to you I tried.”

  I glance at Slater, who is staring at Charlie. I figured he’d lose his mind and go off at her for not taking Ellie out the day he found her. That would be anyone’s automatic reaction. I know it would probably be mine. But logic says that Charlie was right. There is no way she would have been able to get her out alive. They’d have both been killed.

  “That’s the first bit of information I’ve had in ten fuckin’ years,” Slater murmurs. “I finally know where to look, so for that, I am thankful, Charlene. And I’ll help you, for the conditions we discussed. Local members of the Mafia have a big fuckin’ deal goin’ down in about a week. Shanks ain’t stupid enough to mess with it, but he knows the ins and outs of it. He knows what’s bein’ dealt with, and he’s watchin’, waitin’ plannin’. He wants to be the biggest, the deadliest, and he’s takin’ down anyone in his path to do that. But he’s smart about it. I mess with this deal, it’ll bring the entire Mafia down on him. He ain’t big enough yet for that.”

  Malakai steps forward, extending his hand. “You do that for us, we’ll patch you in and help you find Ellie.”

  Slater nods, stepping forward and putting his hand in Malakai’s, shaking it. “You have a deal. I’ll get the information needed. You can assure me I have your protection?”

  Malakai nods. “Yes. You have our protection. Be smart. Be careful. Do what you have to do and get out. We’ll have you protected from there.”

  Slater nods, stepping back. Then he looks to Charlie. “Thank you.”

  Charlie nods. “I hope you find her, Slater. I really do.”

  His face remains stony, no emotion, but the flash in his eyes says that he hopes so, too.

  He wants to find her.

  He has some small slither of hope.

  Can’t say I blame him.

  ~*~*~*~

  THEN – KODA

  I’ve got everything.

  Jarod came through, he gave me everything I needed. He got all the identification to get Braxton and me out safely. Now, all I have to do is get Braxton and get the fuck out of here.

  Everything is packed.

  Everything is ready to go.

  Our tickets are booked.

  We’re leaving, and my brother might have a fighting chance at making it through this.

  I walk out of my apartment and into the street toward my car, which is packed, ready to go. I’m wearing a hoodie, black, and a pair of faded denim jeans. My plan is I’ll go and get Braxton, and we’ll head out after dark. When it’s less likely we’ll be seen anyway.

  My heart is fuckin’ racing with anticipation.

  I’m so close to possibly getting him through this, and yet I feel so fucking far away.

  I reach my car and unlock it.

  I’m about to get in when two dark figures appear beside me, fully dressed in hoods, holding guns. One is stuck into each of my sides, and I’m forced to stand dead still.

  “Don’t move,” a gravelly voice tells me, jabbing the gun further into my ribs. “I’ll blow you the fuck away here.”

  My blood runs cold.

  Fuck.


  No.

  This can’t be happening. Not here. Not when I’m so fucking close. Not when I could taste the fucking sweetness of freedom.

  These fuckers think I’m Braxton, and for a second, I consider letting them. But I have a better chance of getting out of this if they think I’m not Braxton. Otherwise, there’s a high fucking chance I’m about to be taken to some fucked up location and shot without a second glance.

  “I’m not fuckin’ Braxton,” I growl, wheezing as they press the guns in so hard my lungs are crushed by my ribs, that feel on the verge of snapping.

  “Oh.” One man laughs, low and throaty. “We know that, Dakoda. We’re not here for Braxton, we’re here for you. Braxton will follow.”

  Fuck.

  This is bad.

  This is so fucking bad.

  Braxton was right, we were never getting out of this. We were never getting a new life. We were always going to be found. I should have fucking run with him and then found the fake identification. What the fuck was I thinking?

  “Walk, do not fight, or you’ll be dead before you reach the fuckin’ truck,” the man to my left barks into my ear, his breath making my skin prickle with rage.

  They jab me hard with the gun, and I move, taking a step forward. I’m not fucking stupid enough to try and run. I have two guns on me, guaranteed one will blow a hole clean through me if I try. Then Braxton is dead for sure. Right now, I’m still alive, and while I’m still alive, I’ll still fucking fight.

  I will fight.

  Hard.

  We reach a truck only a block down where the back door is opened and I’m shoved inside, but not before my hands are jerked behind my back and cuffs are thrown on my wrists. I land with a thump on the back seat, panting with rage. The urge to lean forward and choke one of these motherfuckers with my cuffs is so strong, I actually lean forward in the seat.