“I’m going to stay here whilst I wait for Malcolm to come back with some things for Steve. I’ve pulled some strings so by then, hopefully, he will be moved to a private room. Sam is going to go over to the soldier centre to see if anybody saw anything. Then he is going to see if they need anything before reporting back. Ryan, can you drop Sam off then take Frankie and Jacob home before swinging by the children’s centre to let Jan know what’s going on, please?”
“Sure, no problem.”
We say our goodbyes and Ryan grabs my hand before taking us out to Caleb’s car. I haven’t said anything, as I think I’m in shock over Caleb’s take-charge attitude. Maybe I should be offended but I’m not. If anything, it’s nice to have someone take over for a change.
We buckle up and head home, Ryan making idle conversation with Jacob while I switch off and rest my head against the window. I must have zoned out, because before I realise it we are home. With a forehead kiss from Ryan, who promises to come back and collect us this afternoon, Jacob and I head inside after watching Ryan drive away.
I was expecting the alarm to bleep when we walked in, but Malcolm must have forgotten to set it. What I wasn’t expecting was to walk into the kitchen and find Robert sat at my breakfast bar. I also wasn’t expecting to have a gun pointed at my head.
“Welcome back, Frankie. Did you miss me?”
Chapter Eighteen
CALEB
When everyone leaves, I slump down in one of the hospitals uncomfortable waiting room chairs and, well, wait. I’m glad it looks like Steve is pulling through. Frankie would have been devastated, and that is not something I can fix. If I’m being brutally honest, I feel like a massive dick, because part of me is almost grateful that this happened as it brought Frankie back to us. Doesn’t matter what happens now, she is ours, and we won’t be letting her go again. I can’t believe I almost fucked this up before it began. Well, no more. It’s time to grow the hell up.
“Excuse me, are you Caleb?”
I look up and notice a nurse, a slightly older one than the one who saw to Steve earlier, with brown hair in a pony tail, and blue scrubs, approach me.
“Yes, that’s me. Is Steve okay?”
“He’s awake and asking for you.”
I stand and head back into his room wondering what he could want with me, because lord knows, I’m not his favourite person right now.
His eyes are closed when I walk in so I’m wondering if he has fallen back to sleep when he opens them and stares at me.
“Mum,” he manages to croak out before a coughing fit takes over. I know he had his breathing tube removed just before Frankie got here, so I can only imagine how sore his throat must be feeling. I rush to his side and grab the cup of water and straw, holding it for him to sip.
I will admit I’m slightly confused. I thought Steve’s mum was dead, and that was why Frankie was down as his next of kin.
He must read my look of confusion because he tries again.
“Frankie’s mum… it was Frankie’s mum driving the car that hit me.”
I look at him in shock, trying to process his words.
“What the fuck? Are you sure?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. Right, of course he’s sure.
“Why the hell would she do that? She has nothing to gain from knocking you down unless hurting Frankie is her end game. It seems like a hell of a risk to take.”
We are both silent for a minute, thinking about it, before he whips his head back round to face me, wincing in the process.
“What if she hurt me because she knew Frankie would come home? Where is Frankie now?”
But I can’t answer him because I’m running out the door towards my car. I’m half way there before I remember that Ryan took it.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial him, but he isn’t answering. He must still be at the centre. I hang up and dial Sam.
“Yo. Turns out someone remembers seeing a dark-haired woman driving the car that hit Steve. A dark blue or black Ford Focus.”
“It’s Frankie’s mum. Steve just woke up and told me. I can’t get hold of Ryan and we still don’t have Frankie’s new number.”
I can hear him running in the background. I have to shout to get his attention.
“Sam, damn it, answer me!”
“I’m on my way there. Call Malcolm. He has Frankie’s new number.” Then he hangs up on me.
I dial Malcolm, but I can hear his phone from here. I spin around and find him standing right behind me, frozen in shock.
“Give me your keys so I can get to her. Call her and tell her to make sure the alarm is on and not to answer the door for anyone but Sam or me. Then stay with Steve in case this is some kind of hoax to get us to leave him alone and vulnerable.”
He throws me his keys before dialling Frankie, but that’s all I see before I’m out the door and in Malcolm’s car, speeding towards Frankie and breaking multiple traffic laws along the way. I am hoping and praying that I’m overreacting, but deep down inside I know that fucker is there.
I smack my hand on the steering wheel in anger. I brought this monster back into her world. If he lays one finger on her I’m going to obliterate him.
I pull up just as Sam gets here. He signals that he is heading around the back. I give him a couple of seconds to get in position before heading up the front steps and knock on the door.
No answer. Shit.
I knock louder this time. “Frankie, it’s me, Caleb.”
Nothing. I try the handle and the door opens, so I slowly head down the hall and make my way into the kitchen. No sign of Frankie but there is blood on the corner of the breakfast bar and on the floor. Not a huge amount of it but enough to know that someone’s hurt.
Sam appears in the hallway, spots the blood and looks at me. I can see him shutting down, but I need him to focus for a second.
“Anything?”
He shakes his head. “House is empty. They're gone.”
“Call the police and try Ryan again then get on the computer and see if you can find anything. I’m going to phone Malcolm and let him know what’s going on and then I’m going to see if the neighbours saw anything. We will get her back, Sam, I promise.”
He looks at me and swallows before nodding and pulling out his phone to call the police. I look at the blood on the counter again before shutting down my own emotions and head to the neighbours. I can’t afford to lose it now. Frankie is counting on us, and I won’t let her down again. It’s time to go hunting.
* * *
FRANKIE
I’m guessing some people in my situation would wake up, realise that they did not know where they were and then freak the fuck out. Not me. It’s not the first time I have woken up in a strange environment with a spotty memory. I squeeze my eyes shut and lock down that memory. I don’t have time for that. I need to figure out how to get Jacob and myself out of here.
My heart splinters with worry for Jacob. I crack my eyes open and search the room I’m in. It looks like a cheap roadside hotel. There are two single beds. I’m on one and Jacob is on the other, looking at me with tears pouring down his face. He has tape over his mouth, and his hands and legs are taped together, as well. My hands and legs are unrestrained, which is odd. Either Robert thought I was going to be out of it for longer or he is still banking on being able to control me by using my fear against me.
I look at Jacob again and force myself not to scream in fury. He is going to use Jacob to keep me in line, banking on the fact that I will do whatever it takes to protect him, and he would be right. I will do whatever it takes to protect him, but he really shouldn’t have underestimated me.
“Is anyone else in here with us?” I whisper.
He shakes his head at me, so I sit up slowly, holding on to the side of the bed when the room spins. I feel my forehead and find a large bump from where Robert clocked me with the gun. My fingers come away streaked with red, but I don’t seem to be bleeding too badly. I climb off the bed
gingerly, and carefully peel the tape from Jacob's mouth.
“Shit, Frankie, are you okay?” Jacob frantically whispers to me.
“I’m okay. I’m going to find something to cut you free. Hang on for me, okay?”
“Frankie, just get out of here. Get help but go.”
I place my hands on either side of his face and say in a voice that he knows means business.
“I am not fucking leaving you, Jacob. Not now, not ever.”
He swallows and nods without arguing any further. Smart boy.
There is a little bedside unit separating the two beds, with a drawer in the top and a cupboard in the bottom. The cupboard is empty, but the drawer holds a copy of the bible, a customer feedback leaflet and a metal pen with the words The Blue Side Hotel printed along the side.
I grab the pen and use the nib to split the tape slightly. It’s slow going, and I’m trying to ignore the red marks on his wrist or I’m going to break down. I concentrate on removing the tape from his wrists and ankles. Finally freed, Jacob puts his arm around me and pulls me against him, helping to take some of my weight as another wave of dizziness washes over me.
He tugs me towards the door, knowing as well as I do that we have to get out of here, but the door swings open before we can make our escape. Jacob shoves me behind him, which leaves him open to the punch Robert throws. His head snaps back before his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts to fall backwards. I try to catch him and help manoeuvre him to the floor, but he is too heavy and I’m still too dizzy, so we both go toppling down. I scream in pain when Robert grabs me by the hair and drags me back up, kicking Jacob aside like he’s nothing.
“Shut the fuck up or I will shoot him in the fucking head.”
“You won’t shoot him. The police would swarm this place in minutes,” I tell him, my voice full of false bravado as I desperately try to lock my legs to stop them from shaking.
He just smiles that nasty evil sneer of his before licking the side of my face. Releasing my hair, he grabs my jaw in a bruising grip that leaves me whimpering.
“Yeah, but it will be too late for your boy then, won't it?”
I don’t try to reason with him. You can’t reason with crazy.
“What do you want? You want money? Fine, take it. Take it all. Just leave us the fuck alone.”
“Oh, I will be taking that all right, even if it’s just to keep your mother off of my back, but that’s not what I want. What I want is you,” he finishes on a whisper.
My skin crawls and it takes everything I have not to throw up everywhere.
“Take off your top and show me those pretty little titties, then lie on the bed for me.”
When I don’t move he lets go of my jaw so that he can swing his arm and backhand me across the face. My vision fades in and out for a second, and I have to swallow down the vomit that rushes up my throat as my already tender head throbs in protest.
“Do it now or I will wait until the boy wakes up so that he can watch.”
He starts to laugh a high-pitched maniacal laugh before continuing.
“Maybe I could have a go at him, too. A hole is a hole, after all, huh, Frankie? Shall I make you fuck him, too? I bet you would blow his mind. He might not be able to pop your cherry, since I had the pleasure of that, but you could pop his.”
I whip my top off. I will take whatever he throws at me, but he can’t have Jacob. Nobody is ever going to hurt him in that way again.
He takes his eyes off Jacob, his attention switching to my breasts. I make my way over to the bed farthest away, trying to put as much distance between us as possible, and lie down praying to God that Jacob stays unconscious for what’s about to happen.
“Damn, baby, they sure grew over the years,” Robert observes, his eyes never leaving my chest, licking his lips as he walks towards me undoing the button of his jeans and sliding the zip down. He pulls his rancid dick out and starts stroking it with one hand, the gun still in the other as he approaches the bed.
I turn my head away and fight back my tears. Tears never helped anyone, least of all me. I spot the pen that I used to cut Jacob's duct tape on the bedside table and look back to Robert to see if he has noticed it, but he is too focused on my chest and his dick.
He climbs on the bed between my legs and leans down towards me, bathing my face with his putrid breath. He uses the gun to lower the cup of my bra that covers my right breast and licks the nipple before biting down hard enough to break the skin. I muffle a scream and reach for the pen whilst he is distracted, and when he lifts his head to smirk at me, my blood on his lips, I take my shot.
I swing my arm with all my might and stab the pen into his neck just to the side of his Adam's apple. His eyes widen in fear, and in his panic, he lets go of the gun to reach up and pull the pen out. I reach for the gun and pull it to my chest, twisting and pointing it at his stomach. When he pulls out the pen blood sprays across my face, and although I’m screaming inside, I keep my mouth shut. No part of this man will ever find itself inside me again.
I watch the realisation pass across his face that he isn’t going to make it, and I see the exact moment he decides to take me with him.
He leans his full body weight on top of me, making it hard to hold the gun, let alone aim it, before he puts his hands around my throat and pushes down with the last of his strength.
I don’t think. I just pull the trigger again and again until he stops squeezing and passes out on top of me.
That’s when I start screaming. I scream until I can’t catch my breath, his dead weight compacting my lungs and the gun forced into my stomach. When I am out of bullets I stop struggling and take comfort from the fact that Jacob is safe and I am finally free. And in the aftermath of this terrifying ordeal, I find myself smiling whilst covered in my attacker’s blood before passing out, too.
Chapter Nineteen
RYAN
It took longer than I thought to reassure Jan that Steve was going to be okay. She was a little shaken, so I decided to sit with her until Carol, one of the volunteers at the children's centre, was finished with her group session so that she could keep an eye on her.
Heading back to Caleb’s car, I check my phone and find sixteen missed calls. A chill runs through me, the hairs rising on the back of my arms. I connect the phone to the car's Bluetooth and speed towards the hospital. Shit, I really hope Steve is okay. I call Caleb, who picks up on the first ring.
“Fuck, Ryan, we have been trying to get hold of you. Where are you?”
“I’m on my way back to the hospital. What’s going on?”
“Frankie’s mother was driving the car that hit Steve.”
“Shit. Why the fuck would she do that?”
“Brace, my man. It gets worse. Frankie and Jacob are gone. We can only assume that Robert and her mother have got them.”
“Holy fuck. Where are you? I’m on my way.”
“I’m at Frankie’s with Sam. I’ve spoken to the neighbours, and one of them reports seeing Frankie and Jacob and another man getting into a white Ford Mondeo. She says that although they got in on their own, the man seemed to have a tight grip on Frankie and was standing far too close. Her words were that something about the situation freaked her out, so she called the police. They didn’t think much of it until Sam phoned them fifteen minutes later. We are looking for the car… Hold on, Ryan… Okay, Sam says he has found the car. It is parked outside The Blue Side Hotel about five miles from here. Police are en route.”
“I know where that is and I’m only a couple of miles away.”
I make a U-turn and speed in the opposite direction.
“Be careful, Ryan. Wait for the police before you go in. We will meet you there.”
He hangs up and I concentrate on getting to my girl. My jaw clicks in anger. Anger at these fucking people whom we brought back into her life, and anger at myself for doing it. I’m mostly angry at myself. If I had just checked the house before Jacob and Frankie went inside, they
would have been safe.
I turn into the carpark and see the Ford Mondeo that I assume is the one we have been looking for on the far edge of it. I pull up to the main entrance and jump out of the car then run for the reception area.
“Excuse me, miss. A man came in here earlier with a teenage boy and a young woman. Can you tell me what room they are in?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t give out that kind of information.”
“That man is a kidnapper and a rapist. I need to know what room they are in now. Please. The police are on their way but that’s my girl he has, and I can’t lose her.”
She searches my eyes, her face paling when she realises I’m telling the truth.
“He came in earlier carrying a girl, with the teenage boy beside them. He said she fell asleep in the car, but the boy didn’t speak at all. He didn’t even look up. Oh, God, I should have realised.”
A few clicks on her computer and I have the room number and a spare key card.
I thank her and sprint in the direction she is pointing. I take a relieved breath when I hear police sirens in the distance. I pull open the door that leads to the stairs and freeze when I hear a gunshot quickly followed by two others in quick succession.
I turn back to the receptionist, who is frozen herself, and bark at her to phone an ambulance before running full-out up the stairs. When I get to the right floor I can hear screaming, which sounds like Frankie. I head towards the commotion and try to tell myself that her screaming means she is alive. But what about Jacob?
A man dressed in only pyjama pants—so another guest, I’m guessing—is trying to break down the door but isn’t having much luck. I nudge him out of the way and try to slide the key card into the reader with fumbling fingers. When the light goes green I shove my way into the room which is now eerily quiet and try to take in the scene before me.
The guy in PJs shoves past me, jolting me out of my shock as he runs to check Jacob. I run to the bed and throw Robert to the floor as though he is made of paper, and find Frankie covered from head to toe in blood and looking like something from my wartime nightmares. Scared to hurt her, I check her neck for a pulse and collapse to the floor next to the bed when I find one. Sucking in a sob, I slide the hair back from her face and rest my head against hers.
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