After beating her, he towered over her gasping, crumpled form and promised, “There will be more of that. An eye for an eye, Chloe. You sentenced me to six years. I wonder if that will be enough time for me to forgive your sins.”
Then he calmly brushed a hand down his shirt and straightened his posture, a serene mask sliding over the face of a monster. But so long as he wore that mask in front of Mattie and Dayton they would be safe. Let him exorcise his demons here, with her. She’d bear the pain and degradation to save her boys and eventually, if she let him break her down the way he wanted, he’d let her out of this godforsaken room and she could save herself and her children.
The thought of spending one hour in this place made her claw at her skin. She’d never last six years, let alone six minutes, and intended to get out by the end of the day. She could barely stomach six minutes in this place. But she only needed to get through that door, convince him to let her out. Then she’d get through the next door and the next until she was free.
Hungry, thirsty, sore, and weak, she fought the urge to vomit as she rolled to her back. Heaving would only hurt. Her eyes watered as shallow, labored breaths escaped and she formulated a plan.
She would endure. For her children, she would do anything and everything to get out of this room. And then she would get them the hell out of this house.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Although Trent knew what to expect, nothing prepared him for the sheer terror and rage that overtook him when he got to Chloe’s house. Her car, parked in its usual place, now held a sense of abandonment. The dark windows of the home, absent of any signs of light, were like soulless eyes staring back at him.
She’d only been missing for a little over twenty-four hours, but—knowing the statistics in cases such as hers—he feared the worst. The gaping void in his chest left his heart anchored to the pit of his stomach.
Where was she? Back in Virginia? Her ex was unlisted so that didn’t make him the easiest person to find. Luckily, Pete had all the records from years ago. Trent just hoped the man hadn’t moved. The number on file was disconnected, so getting there was the first priority.
He climbed out of his truck and grabbed the notepad he used for jobs. He carefully examined the front door frame. No signs of forced entry.
He reached above the porch light and felt around for a key. Nothing. He lifted a flowerpot, checked in the window box, and finally found what he was looking for under the welcome mat. There, in a dusting of pollen and grit, was the outline of her missing house key.
“God, Chloe, you let him walk right in.”
He checked the knob. Locked. Moving around the back of the house, he looked for any evidence that she might have been watched. There were no objects moved close to the exterior of the house. He examined each screen, searching for tears, but why bother when the key was waiting right under the mat? Chances were this wasn’t the first time he’d been in her home.
As he worked his way back to the front of the house he stopped at her car. The door was unlocked. Under the seats, he found a tube of lipstick and slipped it in his pocket. The registration and insurance cards were insured to a Regina E. Wolfe. How was she managing to keep her aunt’s death a secret?
“The cops already searched her car.”
He turned and found Adam standing a few feet away studying him. Trent leaned back in the seat and looked up at the house, running his fingers over the wheel. “Did she say anything to you?”
“She says lots of things to me. If you’re asking if she told me about the gun, then yes.”
“She hates me.”
“No, she hates anything having to do with violence.”
This wasn’t the time to focus on his insecurities, so he got to the important matters. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Sunday, when we dropped the kids off. She was upset and wanted to be alone. Tommy took the boys to the skate park and I stayed and talked to her for a while.”
He looked up as the other man’s voice cracked. Adam seemed to be fighting back tears. “You didn’t see her on Monday?”
“Tommy saw the boys get on the bus Monday morning. Then… Well, it was dark by the time we both got home. Her car was here. We didn’t think anything of the dim house. It wasn’t until this morning that things seemed too quiet and Chloe’s car still hadn’t moved.”
His fingers played with a gash in the seat beside him. “It’s been twenty-four-hours.” It was time to face reality. “How badly would he hurt her?”
Adam’s face tightened. “You think it’s him, too?”
“The kids were signed out of school. Only a parent has the authority to do that.”
“The police haven’t—”
“Only a parent. They wouldn’t go with anyone else and they’re too innocent to see him as a danger.”
Tommy stepped outside holding a cell phone. “Adam, it’s the police.” He handed over the phone.
Adam took the phone, covered his ear and walked closer to their home. “This is Adam Peters.”
“So…” Tommy said, seemingly at a loss and lacking the energy to be his normal upbeat self. “You’re gonna go after them, right? That’s what you do, isn’t it? Find people?”
Trent followed Adam with his stare as he ended the call.
Adam came back to the car. “That was Officer Striker. He signed the kids out.”
Just as Trent suspected. “Do they have an exact time?”
“Ten fifty-three, Monday morning.”
“Fuck.” Trent walked to the grass and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me what you know about Marcus Hunt.”
“We know he was abusive, lived somewhere in Virginia six years ago, and that Chloe’s still terrified of him.”
Trent’s stomach knotted. Usually, he was the calm one on a job, but this was personal. “What about you, Tommy?”
“I know he was a brute. He abused Chloe in every way possible, not drawing lines from the kitchen to the bedroom. He never hit the kids, but toward the end, she feared that might change. She always intercepted, taking more of his shit if it meant possibly protecting Dayton and Mattie.”
Trent ground his teeth as he swallowed hard. “Why this sudden interest? They’re divorced. It’s been six years.” It was as if saying it out loud changed everything. He was a fucking idiot. She ran. Hunt was nuts. How had he convinced himself she somehow managed to get a divorce without some sort of consequence?
Because she let you believe that. Whenever her ex came up in conversation, he assumed the marriage was done. He was certain he referred to the man as her ex-husband, and she never corrected him.
Tommy and Adam were quiet and Trent knew the truth. “She’s still married to him.”
Adam’s mouth opened, but no words came. Tommy frowned. “Honey, we thought you knew. Nothing’s in her name and none of this is legally hers. It’s all a lie. He stayed away because he couldn’t find her.”
“I thought...” His body shivered. “She changed her name. The house is—”
“Regina’s. Before her aunt passed she moved everything into an LLC under the alias Chloe Wolfe. Her name’s still legally Hunt and she’s still married to him. He didn’t give her custody of the boys. She—”
“Stole them.” Jesus. Trent forked his fingers through his hair and paced. “All this time… Why wouldn’t she—”
“Because he was that terrifying. And if he ever found her, he’d never forgive her.”
His eyes closed. Shit just got a lot more complicated. Chloe had kidnapped her children. It was a second-degree offense and, due to the longevity and the fact that she’d crossed state lines, possibly a federal one. Hunt was no doubt using that information to threaten her.
Visions of Chloe trapped with her vengeful husband flooded his mind. He shook with rage as fear twisted his gut. “The guy’s fucking nuts. He’s a spoiled brat who can afford very dangerous toys and has no experience using such things. He doesn’t like being told no and thi
nks he’s entitled to anything he wants.”
Hazy memories dusted off in his mind. The day he’d told Hunt he’d lost his wife somewhere along the border he’d gone ballistic. The man who hired him had fed him a load of bullshit, calling his wife unstable when he’d seen first-hand how terrified she was of her husband. He’d never seen a grown man in such a fit, throwing a tantrum like a spoiled child who lost his favorite toy. And he’d never forget the threats that spewed from his mouth as he promised to make her pay when he found her.
Fisting his hands in his hair, Trent growled. “Rather than fearing guns, she should have taught herself to use one.”
He would’ve shown her how to arm and protect herself had he known that fucker was still a threat. His breathing was jagged and he needed to calm down.
Tommy looked as if he had seen a ghost and Adam was scowling.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Adam’s voice held an edge of hostility. “Have you met him?”
Trent shut his eyes and sighed. Fuck. “I … yes.”
Both men glared at him, their distrusting eyes demanding answers.
“I’m not on his side, so stop looking at me like that! He hired me to find his wife and I did, but in the end, I made sure he never would. I brought her here and told him I lost her somewhere near Mexico.”
Tommy gasped and covered his mouth. “But you were her hero.”
“I…” In the end, maybe that’s what he’d been, but that wasn’t how it started. “It was just a job. In the end, I quit and it cost me a lot of money and stress, but I didn’t betray her.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Adam growled.
“I planned to tell her everything—”
“When? Before or after you got her into bed a few more times?”
“Oh, my God. This is bad,” Tommy mumbled, massaging his temples.
“It was six years ago, Adam, and I didn’t—”
“You’ve been seeing her for weeks! How are we supposed to trust you when you’ve kept this a secret? For all we know, you led him here!”
He lunged forward and growled, “I would risk my life to protect her!”
“But you’d lie to her! You lied to all of us.”
He glared at both of them. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully. I love that woman. I want a life with her. But even before I knew her, I wanted to ensure she had a life for herself, the kind she deserved. You can twist the facts any way you like, but I didn’t finish the job and I would never help a monster like Marcus Hunt. I’m going to get her and the boys home and make it so he can never threaten her again. If saving her means I lose her in the process…” An ache knotted in his chest. “I just want to get her away from him.”
With that, he pivoted and marched to his truck. Enough wasting time. He was going to bring his girl home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chloe sat in the dark, only a triangle of light seeping from the bathroom. She spent most of the afternoon lying on the mattress, adapting to the hunger pains and massaging her sore body.
Sometimes she sat by the door, listening for sounds within the house. Doors opened and closed, water ran through the pipes, but there wasn’t even a whisper of Dayton or Mattie’s voices.
After his visit that morning he hadn’t returned. She feared he’d leave her there for days, but also feared his return.
Paranoia struck and she wondered if her children were even there. Maybe he’d lied and they were back in Pennsylvania worrying about where their mother had gone, fearing she abandoned them.
She tried to remember the day before, but it felt like years ago. Jennifer would’ve canceled all of her appointments at some time today—was it still today? Yes, today. And what about Trenton?
What if Marcus was texting her friends from her phone, pretending to be her? She had no idea where her purse had gone.
She stiffened as a key turned in the knob, the scrape of metal abrading her frayed nerves and sending her scurrying back to the nearest wall. She wanted to stand so she wasn’t in such a vulnerable position, but she lacked the strength and time. Marcus stepped into the room and her body tensed painfully with fear.
He shut the door with his foot and locked it with a key before slipping it back into his pocket. She needed that key.
He carried a bowl to the center of the floor and produced a sleeve of crackers from his back pocket, dropping them next to the bowl. “Eat.”
He returned to the door, casually leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her to move. Fearful it was a trick, she hugged the perimeter of the room until she was close enough to snatch the crackers, her hunger beating at her.
The buttery saltiness crumbled on her tongue and tasted like heaven. Her throat swallowed repetitively as she watched him.
“Don’t you want the soup?”
She dragged the bowl closer. It was cold and there wasn’t a spoon. She brought it to her mouth and sipped the broth, trying her best to avoid the slimy noodles and cold chicken bits.
He enjoyed humiliating her and probably loved the idea of making her drink her supper like a dog on the floor. She ignored her stomach's revulsion, hoping any form of sustenance would build back her strength.
Within minutes, her belly was uncomfortably full and cramping. She twisted the crackers closed and placed them behind her, afraid he’d take what she didn’t finish.
“I suppose you’ve had time to think.”
She studied him, never sure of his intentions.
“The boys are beginning to ask about you.”
She needed proof they were here. “Can I see them?”
“I could easily tell them you abandoned them.”
Her teeth locked, but she remained silent. She’d never abandon her children and he knew that.
“Or I could tell them their mother is a criminal who needs to be punished for her crimes.”
Anger festered and bloomed like pus inside of her. She wasn’t a kidnapper. They were her children and she’d protected them. He’d made her life unbearable and she had no choice but to run. But Marcus had plenty of powerful friends who might see it differently. She wasn’t sure what the laws were, so she couldn’t call his bluff.
“I want to see them.”
“The other option… We can show them we’ve reconciled. Which do you think would be the least detrimental for them?”
Reconciling was out of the question, and a life with Marcus was never the best option, yet, he gave her little choice. If she could fool him, convince him she was sorry and willing to make this work, he might let her out of this room. But first, she needed proof.
“Are the boys even here, Marcus? I haven’t seen or heard them since we arrived.” Her voice was nothing more than a dry rasp. Her lips hurt at the corners and she’d had a steady throb in her skull since he’d shown up in her life.
“Oh, they’re here.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because what other options do you have?” He laughed, taunting her.
“I want to see my sons.”
“Then we need to reconcile our differences. Show me you’re sorry and I’ll let you see them. But you better be convincing, Chloe. If you intend to convince them, you first have to convince me.”
“I’ll do anything, just let me see that they’re all right and—”
“Anything’s an awfully big word.”
The contents of her stomach clotted. Marcus had a way of making everything a negotiation without ever compromising. She understood what he was after. She’d done it before and if it got her out of this room she could do it again. She had no room to second-guess her objectives. Marcus meant nothing. He was a disgusting, rotting soul blocking her escape. She’d get through him by any means necessary. Any.
Looking up at him, she repeated, “I’ll do anything. Just let me see Dayton and Mattie.”
“Very well.” He pressed off of the wall and her stomach lurched
. His hands folded behind his back and he stared at her expectantly. “Well?”
She frowned, confused. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Of course you do. I want you to show me how sorry you are.”
A jagged breath filled her lungs as her heart hammered in her chest. Rage and disgust became an ugliness inside of her not easily disguised. “If you want something, Marcus, just take it. My objections never stopped you before.”
His calm terrified her more than his anger. His laugh held the merriment of a deranged sadist.
“Dear, sweet, Chloe. I’m not going to rape my wife. What kind of man would that make me? Irreconcilable differences it is then. I’ll make some calls and you should find yourself in a new cell by morning. Pity. The boys will be devastated when I tell them my version.” He turned to the door.
“Wait!” Her panic doubled. What if he wasn’t bluffing? What if he did the research and honestly believed she could go to prison for her crimes?
The glint of the key flashed in his fingers. “I can tell you’re thinking hard with that tiny brain of yours. The penalty for parental kidnapping in the state of Virginia is a class six felony punishable by up to ten years in a state penitentiary.”
Her chin quivered as a sharp pain cinched around her heart. “I didn’t…” Her eyes blinked as her vision blurred.
“But you did, Chloe. You stole my children. You stole my aunt’s identity. You falsified documents and lied for over half a decade. I would have to do very little to see you punished for your crimes.”
Her head was fuzzy and she couldn’t think. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell the boys she’d abandoned them. He’d twist the truth. If she was prosecuted, even withheld for a short period of time, she’d be unable to keep him away from them, unable to keep him from spewing his lies. The smallest thing might set him off and if she wasn’t here for him to target, he’d find someone else. She couldn’t let that happen.
Yet, if she could get to the police, even if it meant being taken into custody, she might be able to explain the situation, possibly have Dayton and Mattie moved somewhere safe until the details were worked out and—
Something Borrowed (New Castle Book 3) Page 22
