by A. M. Wilson
I spend my afternoon making calls to Reece’s coworkers. Though I’m clinging to hope of a lead, I can’t deny a small twinge of relief that nobody mentions a girlfriend or even a weekend fling. Nobody recognizes the name Celina. They all say the same thing.
He works hard.
He’s a great guy
He keeps to himself.
Outside of work, they aren’t aware of other friends.
He occasionally joins them for a beer and to play pool at Rook’s.
Why does the quietest man in this town have to go missing without a trace? By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m starting to wish he did have a fuck buddy, just so we could get some more information.
“Ready?” This time, Barns is the one to retrieve me from my desk. I gather up the things needed to end my day with a sigh.
“I am. Taking my own car, though, so I don’t have to come back here.”
“I’m good with that.”
As dusk falls, the picture of the quiet residential neighborhood gives me a slight chill. I shake it off as I park at the curb in front of Reece’s house and exit the car. A couple of the neighbors’ houses that weren’t home earlier now have lights in the windows.
“Looks like we may be in luck to the one on the left and the one over there.” I gesture across the street and down a house. “The one directly across still appears dark.”
“Let’s start there.”
The yard appears well-kempt, and a garden bed surrounding the front of the house showcases beautiful flowers. Whoever lives here takes pride in their curb appeal and also spends time outdoors to do so.
Barns knocks quickly, and the door opens moments later to a small woman old enough to be my grandmother. Her white hair is neatly permed, and she wears a welcoming smile on her face.
“Oh, hello. Can I help you?” She has a kind, frail voice that reminds me of listening to my grandma tell stories while we baked chocolate chip cookies together.
“Hello, ma’am. We’re wondering if we can ask you some questions about your neighbor, Mr. James.” I smile politely as I wait.
Immediately, her face transforms into one of concern. “Is Reece alright? I called him this morning to see if he could help me transplant a lilac bush from my daughter’s house, but he didn’t answer. That isn’t very like him.”
Bingo. She at least knows who he is. “We’re trying to figure that out. Can you tell me when you last saw him?”
“Well, it would have been yesterday.” She glances beyond my right shoulder as she thinks. “Yes, yesterday. He mowed my lawn. I always offer to pay him money, but he turns me down.” She laughs, and her whole face brightens. “I like when he takes his shirt off.” She winks, and it takes everything in me not to laugh with her.
“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary since then?”
“No, no, I don’t think so.”
“Do you know who lives next door to you?”
“The Erickson’s? They’re in Florida at the moment.”
“Thank you for your time, ma’am. If I have any more questions, I’ll let you know.”
“Wait. I’m old, and my brain isn’t as quick as it used to be. I do remember seeing a car parked out front last night. It was dark. Black or maybe green. I thought it was odd because it was parked between houses, and I’ve never seen it before. I don’t sleep as well as I should and came into the kitchen after a short nap before supper.”
My heart rate picks up at the first mention of something that could help us. “Did you happen to catch the make of the car?”
“No, dear. I’m sorry. My eyes just don’t see like they used to.”
As quickly as it flared, that hope crashes and burns. I extend a card to her to cover my disappointment.
“In case you see it again, here’s my information.”
We bid the old woman goodbye and make our way back across the street to the house next to Reece’s.
“It hasn’t been a complete bust. We now know he was home in the afternoon to early evening mowing her lawn, and that she saw an unfamiliar car what seems like a short time later. Maybe they’ll come back.”
Or maybe it’s already been over twenty-four hours since Reece went missing, and the clock is ticking with nothing to go on.
I’m scanning the quickly darkening surroundings as we walk when a light catches my eye through Reece’s living room window. A mere flicker like the twitch of a flashlight or the dance of a candle flame.
“Did you see that?” I say to Barns as I palm the butt of my gun.
“Sure did,” he replies.
We position ourselves on either side of the window in order to look inside. I make a mental note to tell Reece to buy some better freaking curtains and remember to actually close them at night.
“See anything?” Barns asks a minute later.
“No.” The frustration I feel inside leaks all the way to my fingertips. I want an answer, and I want it now.
“Could have been a reflection from us walking by.”
I’m not convinced. “Let’s circle around to be sure.”
My senses are heightened to each crack of a twig and crunch of dry leaves. The wind whips by in a howl that sends my hair twisting across my face. I ignore the unpleasant feeling and keep my eyes on the area in front of me. A quick peek around the back of the house, and we can be on our way.
“We should grab a beer after thi—"
A sound like a spring unloading breaks through his sentence seconds before an object whizzes by my face. Without looking to see the damage to Barns, I raise my weapon to fire. Before I can get a shot off, something solid collides with the side of my face, and a fiery pain sends me sprawling. Sounds become muted from my left ear, and sticky blood pools in my eye, making me partially deaf and blind.
My weapon is kicked from my hand, and a face swims in my vision. One I can’t make out through the dizziness and the blood. The hooded figure says something, straightens, and the sole of a boot to my temple causes everything to go black.
12
Reece
With a groan, I roll to the side of the bed and take several deep breaths, trying to stave off the nausea building in my stomach. I crack open my eyes, then slam them shut again when a violent pounding starts in my head. What in the hell did I do last night? It's been years since I’ve had a hangover like this. I only had one beer, right?
Slowly, memories of last night slide past my closed eyelids. With those flashes come dread and an anger so strong, the nausea and pain in my head are momentarily forgotten.
Slitting my eyes open, I take stock of my surroundings. Or I try to with the little light there is in the room. Unsure if I’m being watched or not, I keep still as I slide my eyes around the room. I’m on my side, so most of the space is in front of me. Off against one wall is an old toilet that looks to be about a hundred years old. The walls are cinder block and look aged. Old cobwebs hang from the corners and struts supporting the second floor. A single, dim light bulb hangs from a beam in the ceiling. On the opposite wall of the toilet is a door. My guess, it’s the door that leads out of this dreary place. Once the pounding in my head stops, and I can move without worrying about puking my guts out, the door will be the first thing I inspect.
Across from me is a window. From the light I see shining through the dingy glass, I know it does not lead outside, so it must be another room lit similarly to mine.
I stop breathing and close my eyes, straining my ears for any sounds that will indicate where I am. Nothing. Not even a creak of floorboards.
I slowly sit up from the mattress that’s set on the floor. It’s thin and filthy and reeks of mildew. I drop my head between my bent knees when a wave of dizziness hits, and my stomach flips from the movement. Whatever Bolt injected me with was strong as hell.
“Fuck,” I mutter, digging my thumbs in my temples, willing the lethargic feeling away.
Something loud bangs outside the door, and my head jerks in that direction. Fighting thro
ugh the vertigo, I clumsily get to my feet and stumble over to the metal door. I press my ear against the cool surface, hearing grunts on the other side. Knowing it’s useless, I try the doorknob anyway. When it doesn’t budge, I use the little strength I have and start banging my fists against the door.
“Hey!” I yell. “Who’s there? Let me the fuck out!”
I press my ear back against the door again, only to hear nothing at first. A moment later, there’s another loud bang. It comes from the direction of the window. Using the wall as support, I stagger over to the grimy window. I can’t really see anything at first because the glass is so dirty, so I use the bottom of my shirt to wipe away what I can. It doesn’t help much. The lighting is just as bad as this side. From what I can see, the room looks identical to the one I’m in, with a mattress against one wall and an old toilet against another. The only difference is a long pipe running from floor to ceiling along the back wall.
Movement off to the left forces me to step to the side so I can see that part of the room. A door swings open, and the backside of a woman appears. I can’t see her face yet, but I know it’s Bolt. She’s bent over like she’s dragging something heavy.
A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach the farther she comes into the room. Her back is to me, so I can’t see what she’s dragging. My blood cools and turns to ice, instinctively knowing what it is. Or rather who it is.
When she drops a pair of legs on the mattress then steps to the side, and I get a good look at the face of the body, I about lose my mind. I bang my fists on the glass, ready to break it and crawl through to get to Dani. I can’t see her face, only the back of her head, but there’s no mistaking the blood caked in her thick hair.
“Dani!” I shout, hitting the glass harder, to no avail. “Goddammit, Bolt! You fucking bitch! You swore you wouldn’t touch her! Let me the fuck out of here!”
Violent rage has my body strung tight, and I have no doubt if I were to get my hands on Bolt, I’d rip her to fucking shreds.
I continue to bang on the window and yell at Bolt, but she pays me no mind. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she couldn’t hear me, but I know she does. The glass must be shatterproof because it doesn’t budge, no matter how hard I hit it with my fists.
“Motherfucker!” I bellow. My strength, already weakened from the drugs, wanes even more. Only my strength of will to get to Dani keeps me on my feet.
I watch helplessly as Bolt situates Dani on the dirty mattress, uncaring that her head hits the concrete wall. By the time she’s done, Dani’s head is turned and facing me. Fear grips my stomach at how pale her face is. The need to go to her to make sure she’s okay has panic racing through my blood. Bolt bends and attaches some type of collar around Dani’s neck before she gets to her feet.
Fucking finally, Bolt turns to the window, giving me her attention. If I were a lesser man, I’d shrink away at the sinister look on her face. Her lips twist into an evil smile, and her expression gives away her unadulterated glee at her actions.
“Let me out, Bolt.” I keep my voice calm, hoping a relaxed attitude will help.
She slowly walks toward the window, her creepy-ass grin growing. “Nah. I think I’ll keep you in there for a while longer.”
I grit my teeth. “At least let me in that room so I can see if Dani’s okay.”
“Why would I do that?” She tilts her head to the side like she’s genuinely curious about my answer. “It’s so much more fun to watch you panic.” She looks at Dani over her shoulder. “Wondering if the cunt is going to live or die.”
The blunt tips of my nails dig into my palms, and I try to rein in my rage.
“Why are you doing this?” I grind out.
“Because I want to, and because I can. Some people skydive or bungee jump for thrills. This is my idea of a good time.” She steps so close to the window, her breath fogs the glass. “And it’s just the beginning.”
“What are you going to do to us?”
“A little of this. A little of that. All of it fun times.” She laughs. “Well, at least for me.”
“What in the hell does that mean?” I growl.
“All in good time, pretty boy,” she answers in a singsong voice. “All in good time.”
When she spins on her heel and begins walking toward the door, I start banging on the window again. “Hey! Hey! Come back here.”
Surprisingly, Bolt turns around and saunters back to the window, stopping a foot away. “You rang?”
I bite my tongue and force the next words out between clenched teeth. “Please. Let me in there with her. I’ll do whatever you want.”
She cocks her head like she’s thinking over my request. Raising her hand, she taps her bottom lip with her index finger.
“Well… I might be willing to let you in here if you…” She pauses.
I hold my breath, praying she’ll give in. I need to get to Dani and check the wound on her head and see if she has any other injuries. Fear and anxiety knot in my stomach at the thought of the damage that could have been done to her.
Bolt drops her hand, and her lips twist into a nasty smirk. “Actually, I don’t think I will. It’s just way too much fun watching you suffer.”
When she turns away again, I go ballistic. Rearing back, I use every bit of force I have and throw my fist against the glass. It doesn’t even flex. I do it again and again, screaming so loud I feel the vessels in my eyes pop. Rage like I’ve never felt before takes over my body, and I punch and claw at the window, so fucking desperate to get on the other side.
The door in the other room clangs when Bolt closes it. I rush over to the door in my room and bang on that one as well. My throat throbs from yelling so much. Spinning around, I stalk the walls of the room, running my hands over the concrete, frantically trying to find some way out of here. When I come up empty, I bellow to the ceiling, knowing Bolt will be able to hear me.
I’m out of breath, my head pounds, and my body feels like it’s run a marathon. Walking over to the window, I peer through the glass. Dani is still out and hasn’t moved. Despite the situation and the paleness on her face, her expression is relaxed, like she’s simply sleeping.
Balling my hands into fists, I rest them against the glass. My eyes briefly move to my torn and bleeding knuckles. Dropping my head forward, I rest my forehead on the glass, feeling weak in more ways than one.
“I fucking swear I’ll get us out of here, Dani,” I whisper hoarsely.
Turning to my back, I slide down the wall until my ass hits the concrete. Recklessly, I slam my head back against the wall, the jarring pain no match for the one in my chest.
I must fall asleep because I jerk awake sometime later. Since no windows in here lead outside, I can’t tell how much time has passed. Hell, I don’t even know how long I was out the first time. Cracking my eyes open, I roll my head from side to side, working out the kinks.
A low moan hits my ears, and I scramble to my feet. Looking through the glass, I find Dani trying to sit up on the mattress.
“Dani!” I call her name.
Either she doesn’t hear me or she’s too disoriented to comprehend it. I give her a moment to get her bearings. Sitting up with her back against the mattress, she probes the spot where I saw blood earlier, causing her hair to fall forward.
I call her name again, and her head slowly lifts.
“Reece? Is that you?”
It takes her a moment to find the window. When she does, her eyes widen.
My shoulders slump, relieved to see her awake and moving around.
She winces when she tries to get to her feet.
“Just stay there,” I tell her, worried she’ll pass out if she moves around too much. “We can talk from here.”
Ignoring me, she gingerly gets to her feet. I grind my molars together as I watch. She looks around the room. The look on her face reveals that she finds no more than what I found earlier. We’re in a shit ton of trouble.
“Where are we?” she asks
, stopping by the window after walking each wall, her hands sliding over the cinder blocks.
With a sigh, I lean my shoulder against the wall. “No clue. When I came to, I was already in this room.”
“Do you know who took us?”
My blood pressure rises when I grit out the name. “Juliet. Or that’s what I thought her name was. She says she goes by the name Bolt.”
Recognition dawns on her face. “The lightning bolt symbol,” she says absently.
I nod.
“Do you know her?”
“She’s my neighbor.” I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “Not sure how long she’s been my neighbor, though. She started coming around a few months ago. Flirting and shit.”
Her eyes slide to me. “You sleep with her?”
“Fuck no.” I scowl with a glare.
Her shoulder lifts in a shrug. “How was I supposed to know? I don’t know the kind of man you are now. Not sure I ever did,” she mutters the last.
I decide to ignore that dig and drop my hand to the windowsill. Her eyes move to my bloody knuckles, and concern pulls her brows down.
“What happened to your hand?”
I lift my other hand and flex all ten fingers. I don’t know if it’s because I’m numb to the pain or the adrenaline is still rushing through my body, but I’m surprised when I don’t feel the wounds.
“I kinda lost it when she dragged you in there, and I saw you unconscious. I didn’t know if you were alive or not.”
Something flashes in her eyes, showing an emotion I never thought I’d see on her face again. At least not directed toward me. The look is fleeting and gone in the next second.
When a painful expression crosses her face, and she lifts her hand to her head, I ask, “How bad is it?”
She looks at me, disgruntled. “I’m fine.”
“Let me see.”
“Reece.” She sighs my name. “I said—”
“Let me see,” I demand, my tone more firm. I see the words “fuck off” on the tip of her tongue, so I gentle my tone. “Please.”
