Sounds Like Obsession (Sounds Like Series Book 1)

by Violet Paige

  I didn’t want to think that there was a world where he didn’t exist. I had pretended for so long he didn’t matter. It was seductive to go to that place now, but with his kiss still burning my lips, I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t opened every wound there was between us. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t willing to hurt again for another chance at us.

  My head hit the ceiling of the crate when the wheels touched down. It was as if I was being tossed in the ocean, only the landing was much rougher. It was bumpier down here. Everything rattled and bounced around as Beechum slowed the engines on the runway. It seemed like we were skidding, but I had nothing to hold onto inside the crate. No frame of reference without windows.

  I held my breath, wondering how much longer this part would take. Where was I going? And who was the buyer Jelly Bean Jack had sold me to?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was quiet. Eerily quiet.

  I tried to turn so I could press my ear into the wooden siding, but I couldn’t get my knees to twist with the rest of my body. I thumped my head into the barrier behind me. Everything hurt.

  The only thing I knew for certain was that the plane was no longer moving.

  Suddenly my body was flung on its side when the crate moved. I felt the vibrations underneath me as something lifted the crate into the air. I scraped my lip with the violet hit. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Where was I being taken? Where was AJ?

  I pounded on the walls. I screamed. I kicked, despite the searing pain caused by the zip ties.

  “Help! Help me!” It was pointless. Other than AJ and the kidnappers, no one on the outside had a clue a person would be smuggled inside a crate in plain sight. It wasn’t even equipped for animal carry. There were no holes for air. I wondered if my air supply was limited. I stopped struggling once I realized I might need to conserve my intake of air.

  I pictured the scene around me. Workers on the tarmac processing baggage. Controllers on the ground signaling planes to the jet way. Travelers watching everything unfold from their windows as if it was normal and ordinary.

  I could feel the rumble underneath the crate. I was on some type of forklift. Something that rolled steadily at a casual pace. I was being taken somewhere like a piece of cargo. A piece of property that had been sold and bought on the dark web’s marketplace.

  What was I going to do when the lid was pried off? I had no way to defend myself. No way to run. There was no escape or salvation ahead of me. I had to put hope in that whoever had bought me thought I was more valuable alive than dead. I needed him to want my skills. Hacking was the only thing that could keep me alive. AJ was right. I had to use it as leverage.

  There was a far worse scenario: what if the lid was never taken off? Instead of being delivered, what if this was my coffin? I started to shake.

  By the time the forklift stopped moving, I had convinced myself I would lie and bargain my way through anything I had to, in order to survive. If I made it out of the crate I’d lie and cheat. I’d steal. I’d hack. I wanted to live. I knew that.

  I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I’d fight the instinct to retaliate. Nothing sassy or smart-assy. Losing my father had broken my mother’s heart, but losing one of her children might shatter her soul. I thought about her and Kelly as I took one deep breath after another. Breaths that were conceivably using up precious oxygen.

  I hadn’t shared much about my podcast with them. I had told myself it was to keep them from being hurt. To spare their feelings, but I knew underneath my decision it was because I wanted something of my own. Something that was somehow magically mine. Alone.

  That seemed selfish now. Especially if my life was going to end like this. How could I have kept it from them? None of this would make sense to them, if they ever even knew how I disappeared.

  I didn’t have time to sort through my decisions when I heard the splintering of wood near my head. There was a loud thwack as it struck again, ripping into the crate. I was pinned in the corner, terrified the crow bar was going to end up prying into my skull. I shrieked when the lid was thrown on the floor.

  I looked up as a large dark figure reached inside and pulled me out.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Open your eyes,” the deep voice grunted.

  I had squeezed them shut out of fear. Slowly, I let my eyes flutter wide. I recognized the man next to me as the second fake air marshal from the flight. We were in an airplane hangar, somewhere far from the rest of the airport. In the center was a mid-sized jet, white and sleek. I counted six passenger windows along one side.

  “Hold out your hands,” the burly man instructed.

  I lifted my wrists forward as he sliced through the zip ties with a rugged knife. He leaned over and released my ankles with a jerk. I whined as he yanked the plastic away from the cuts. There was a steady of stream of blood running into my shoe. It was hard to distinguish the pain in one leg from the other.

  “Wh-what’s happening now?” I was afraid to ask.

  “You’re going on a little ride.” He grinned.

  I heard footsteps behind us. I turned to see Jeff and Cindy march into the hangar with their rolling luggage behind them. They waved as they moved past us and climbed the stairs to the jet.

  “But, they—” My mouth hung open. Of course they would be the same flight crew.

  “I need to get you on there.” He gripped my arm.

  “I’m going,” I protested. “I’m not going to run. I don’t need any help.”

  “I’m not taking any chances.” He locked his fingers tighter on my bicep.

  I looked over my shoulder at the empty wooden crate behind me. If there was a silver lining, it was that I wasn’t being transported for the second part of the trip inside that box and it hadn’t become my tomb. I didn’t know how much longer I could have stayed inside without losing my mind.

  There was no sign of AJ anywhere. But as we approached the steps leading into the jet’s cabin I heard a shout behind me.

  “Syd!”

  My head whipped around. “AJ!”

  “Shut up.” The man hit me across the cheek and my head fell limp. I struggled to look up. My cheek instantly throbbed with pain. I had never felt as if my brain had actually rattled in my head before.

  “What is he doing here? I thought we decided it was best to eliminate him.”

  “And I decided not to. Thought we could get something for him,” Hancock barked.

  AJ’s hands were still fastened together at his wrists, but the ties around his ankles had been cut so he was able to walk. I wanted to run toward him. To see if he was ok. To tell him every part of my body hurt, but that I was alive. I was going to do what I promised him I would do. I wouldn’t let him down.

  There was a weird giddiness bubbling in my stomach. We were going on this flight together. That meant there was another chance we could escape. That AJ would have a strategy to get us to safety.

  “He’s not worth shit. She’s the one with the price tag.” The brute made an extra tug on my arm to show he had control of me.

  Hancock spat from the side of his mouth. “You don’t know that. He’s gotta be worth something if he was trying to protect her. I get the feeling he’s got information. No one carries a piece on them like that if they aren’t agency.” I wondered what had happened to AJ’s weapon.

  “What the fuck ever. Just get them on board. We have a deadline to meet. Beechum wants to take off on time.”

  The nausea rolled inside me. If Cindy and Jeff were our flight crew why did I expect any other pilot to take us to my buyer? I still hadn’t seen Beechum. I didn’t know what he looked like.

  The guard pushed me forward too roughly. I missed the stair. My shin banged into the metal step when I heard the squeal of tires and a siren blasting as a squad of black cars sped toward us. I squinted, trying to identify everything coming into view at once. There was instant chaos.

  “Go! Go!” The man shoved me up the stairs. “Get in. Get in the fucking plan
e.” But as he urged me upward, I slammed into the stairs, barely breaking my fall with my palms.

  “Shit,” I mumbled.

  In a matter of seconds any sense of sanity vanished. The man pulled his weapon, aiming at the black cars.

  AJ hurled his elbow into Hancock, knocking the gun to the ground. It spun on the concrete and skidded out of reach.

  “AJ!” I screamed when the first round of shots were fired. I was helpless. Horrified. I couldn’t see where the bullets stopped. I knew it was a sound I would never forget. The echo inside the hangar magnified the release of the trigger. I wanted it to stop. I wanted the shooting to be over.

  An SUV pulled all the way up to the stairs. I was too high up to just slip off and escape. Without the full use of my ankles, I couldn’t depend on them to hold me if I jumped down. My instincts told me to get out of the line of fire, but the only way out of the path was inside the jet and I wasn’t going there.

  Two agents pulled their guns as they stepped out of the vehicle.

  “FBI!” they shouted. “Drop your weapons! Now!”

  My assailant only huffed. I croaked when he leaned toward me, taking my neck in his fat hand, keeping his aim on the agents.

  I’d never felt anything wound so tightly on my throat as his fingers. I gasped for a breath.

  “Let her go.” It was AJ. He tossed the gun he had picked up. It landed at the bottom of the stairs. He raised his hands.

  “Agent Hart, we’ve got this.”

  He shook the off. “No. I’ve got this. Put your weapons down.” He looked directly at the man pointing a gun at him. “You said it yourself. You don’t want to hurt her. She’s valuable, right?”

  There was slightly less pressure against my larynx. I struggled for air.

  “Only if I get her where she needs to go,” he snarled. “Right now she’s as worthless as you are.”

  Given the choice between boarding the jet or watching AJ get shot, I knew exactly what my choice would be. No one else would understand. Not the FBI agents surrounding us. Not the kidnappers.

  “Stop,” I squirmed on the stairs. “I’ll go.” My breath was ragged. “I’ll go with you.”

  He looked down at me.

  Be a distraction.

  Get his attention.

  “Please.” I forced a tear out of the side of my eye. “I want to go. If you leave me, they’re going to take me in. They’re after me too. I have to get out of here. This is my chance too. The FBI just wants to use me. Please.”

  “Huh. Likely story. I don’t fucking believe that for a minute.”

  It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the diversion was just long enough for AJ to rush the stairs and throw a powerful punch across the man’s jaw. AJ reached for his gun. I tried to scramble out of the way to give him space to overpower him.

  They were a tangle of arms. Everything was a blur.

  “Agent Hart!” the agent on the ground shouted.

  The gun went off.

  I screamed and everything faded to black.

  Chapter Thirty

  The fluorescent lights hit me when I rushed inside the emergency room. My bag was slung over my shoulder and I was in a full sprint in heels. I pushed past a nurse, wheeling a patient along the hall.

  I tapped on the desk. “I’m looking for my boyfriend, AJ Hart. Is he in here?” I couldn’t reel my voice to a level of calm that was appropriate.

  The nurse blinked. “Was he brought to this hospital?”

  “Yes, but he’s in surgery now. It’s his arm.” I held my elbow to demonstrate.

  “I can’t give out patient details, but more than likely he’s in ortho. There’s no surgery in the ER, ma’am.”

  I hit my forehead. “That’s right. I knew that. I’m sorry. I’m just all over the place, trying to get here. And I should have been here sooner. Which way?” I asked.

  “Follow the blue arrows around the corner. You’ll see the signs.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took several turns before I burst through a set of doors and emerged in the ortho waiting room.

  “Where is he? Where is he?”

  Travis rose from one of the chairs grouped in a pod. He greeted me with a smirk. “He’s in surgery. Just hold on.”

  He was wearing his soccer jersey and holding a team water bottle.

  “But, I wanted to see him. I should have seen him,” I argued. How could someone have rolled AJ into surgery without letting me see him first? Who made that decision?

  “You can see him when he gets out. They wanted to reset the bone as quickly as possible. Surgeon says as young as he is, there’s a good chance he’ll never be able to tell it was broken. Thank God it was his left arm, right? I think he shoots right. Fuck. Do you think he’d get benched in the bureau if he couldn’t shoot?”

  I ran my hands through my hair, dropping into one of the hard seats. I mostly wanted Travis to shut up, but I had questions. “How did it happen? It’s supposed to be league soccer?” I looked at Travis for an answer. “It’s supposed to be fun. Not violent.”

  “Freak thing. Other guy was charging and AJ was in the goal. You know he’s the best keeper in the league. Doesn’t flinch for anything. The forward took him out. They didn’t score though.” He smiled.

  “They didn’t score?” I gritted my teeth together. My boyfriend was in an operating room and that was what Travis was focused on? The score of the game?

  “Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood. It was a stupid thing to say.”

  I exhaled. “I know you didn’t mean it like that.” Deep down, I knew that was some kind of strange guy pride thing he had. It was probably the same for every other guy on the team. AJ was in surgery, but at least it was for a good reason—no goal scored.

  Travis put a hand around my shoulder and squeezed. “He’s going to be ok. Just sit down.”

  I nodded, pushing away enough to get some space.

  “I think I’ll go get some coffee or something.” It was already close to ten. I didn’t know how long we would be here tonight or if AJ would even be going home with me.

  “I can go with you.”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. I just need a second. I don’t really like hospitals. I’ll be right back. Call me the second you see a doctor.” I pointed my finger into his chest.

  “Oh. Ok.”

  I walked off in search of the hospital cafeteria. I wasn’t sure why I was barreling around the hospital the way I was. I was angry that AJ had been hurt. Annoyed with Travis’s flippant attitude. Pissed at the surgeon for whisking him away before I even made it to the hospital. Most of all I was angry at myself.

  I turned the corner when I saw the sign for the cafeteria. One of the small kiosks was still open. I stood in line behind a man wearing a spring plaid shirt. It seemed too bright and out of place for a late night in the hospital. As if it was somehow unacceptable to parade around in pale pink and green when I was dealing with the heaviness in front of me.

  I should have been here sooner. I should have been here when he was prepped for surgery. I should have kissed him before they gave him anesthesia. I should have told him something funny and made him smile. I would have been if I hadn’t been working my way through dark net channels. I reached for a tall cardboard cup and a lid. I poured hazelnut coffee to the top.

  The thing was, I was making progress. Over the past few weeks I had started making friends. Unusual friends that had become useful. Almost indispensable. I was absorbing everything they threw at me. It was natural and quick the way I ingested the code and spit it back out to work any problem I had. It was as if I was training for a secret power.

  I paid for my coffee and walked the halls back to the ortho wing. Travis was on his phone.

  I sat next to him. “No news?”

  “Nah. I texted Becs. She’s on her way over.”

  I stared at the swinging doors that led to the surgery bays. “I guess we just have to wait.”

  “Want to watch so
mething?”

  “Huh?” I was fixated on the doors.

  He reached into his gym bag. “I’ve got my iPad. We could watch something. Pass the time instead of this shit.” He nodded toward the TV mounted on the wall. I wasn’t sure why home renovation shows were supposed to be soothing to waiting room visitors.

  I shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”

  I couldn’t remember what Travis pulled up to watch that night. Or just how long we sat there. What I did remember was the relief I felt when I met Dr. Wexler. She smiled reassuringly when she reported that AJ had made it through surgery fine and was recovering from the anesthesia. She led me down the hall to his room.

  She stopped just in front of his door. “He’s probably going to be groggy until morning. Give him another hour to clear more of the anesthesia and I’ll send you two home tonight. The nurse has all his discharge instructions. You can pick up his prescriptions tomorrow.”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  She signed his chart and slid it into the pocket on the wall. “He’s going to have a quick recovery. I see no reason why he’ll have any problems with his arm.”

  “Thank God,” I whispered.

  “I’d like to see him back at my office in two weeks. I’m telling you this because most patients don’t remember anything after surgery. He signed off before surgery that you’re his emergency contact.”

  “He did?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I think he was waiting for you to get here.”

  I closed my eyes. “I tried…”

  “He did fine. Take good care of him and I look forward to his post-op appointment.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Wexler.”

  I inhaled before walking into the room. If what Dr. Wexler said was true, AJ might not remember I wasn’t there when he needed me, but I would. I promised both of us right then and there I’d never do anything this stupid again.

  AJ was sitting up when I walked in. There was a pile of pillows nestled under his back. His broad shoulders took up the bed.

  “Hey, babe.” He grinned sleepily.