by JJ Knight
“I told you so,” The Cure says. “Athletes need meat.”
“You are positively a dinosaur,” Eve says with a twinkle in her eye.
“It's just a new thing,” Colt says. “Probably not my thing.”
The conversation continues, but as the minutes pass by, my anxiety grows. What is Chloe doing? Was she not feeling well? Should I leave her alone? Did she ditch me because she had some issues she needed privacy for? My attempts to bring myself down are not entirely successful as yet another couple minutes pass. I set down my utensils and stand.
“I'm going to check on Chloe,” I say. “It's a big place. Anyone could get lost.”
I don’t look at anyone as I leave. I don't care what they think. If The Cure thought this dinner required a million guards, then they shouldn't be letting someone like Chloe wander alone. She’s a primary target.
And she's pretty willful. For all I know, she's halfway to the gate. I can picture her scrambling over the stone wall to escape.
With these thoughts in my head, I walk even faster toward the bathroom. Eve directed her toward the larger one for guests, not the small one for family. I have no idea why. But when I push inside, it’s empty. All three of the small stalls have open doors.
The trash has numerous paper towels, which is what the men would choose. But the small wicker hamper holds a single white washcloth, still a little warm. A girl would choose that. With so few women here tonight, the odds are high that it was Chloe. So where did she go after that?
I step outside. The voices from dinner are muted. I glance at Chloe’s empty seat again and decide to seek out where they’ve set up the other tables.
It isn't hard to figure out. There are only a couple rooms large enough to accommodate the overflow of dinner guests. I head for the atrium, a large annex on the opposite side of the kitchen with a glass wall that looks out over the grounds.
As I approach, the noise levels increase, telling me that I’ve chosen the right spot. Two waiters stand outside the archway that leads to the space. Four round tables have been brought in. A few scattered chairs are empty, but that doesn't mean anyone was ever sitting there.
All of them have place settings. I look a little closer. We were already at the dinner stage. If no one had used those spots, then the napkin should still be folded across the plate. Three of the settings are still set up. But two are not, the napkins askew, the wine glasses half full.
Two people are missing from this room. I quickly scan for The General. I spot him easily. His eyes are on me. What I meet his gaze, I’m not enthused. He looks angry. As if he knows that I fooled him, and he’s seeking to get even.
I turn away. This house is enormous. Chloe could be anywhere, or she could already be nowhere. I dash through the house to the front entryway. Four guards still stand there.
“Did my date come through here?” I ask. “Chloe? The blonde?”
“Nobody has gone out this door tonight,” one of them says. “Only in.”
“Are there guards at every exit?”
He nods. “Every exit.”
“Chloe is missing. And she’s the whole reason for all this.”
The man speaks into the microphone on his lapel.
“Black dress?” he asks.
I nod, my unease growing. Something’s not right.
“Two of you stay here,” the first guard says. “The two of us will help you look. We’ll notify the perimeter as well.”
I run at a full sprint through every room of the bottom floor. Ballroom. Rec room. Movie theater. The kitchen is packed with cooks and servers all in white.
I call out her name. But there’s nothing but bewildered caterers and the occasional guard. All of them assure me that she hasn’t passed by them. If she’s exited this building, either one of them is lying or it was not by any of the regular doors.
It's time to call in reinforcements.
I head back into the dining room. Both Colt and Parker look up expectantly when I enter the room.
“What's wrong, bro?” Colt asks.
I can't make a big scene. I don't need everyone knowing what is happened. Or maybe I do. Isn't that what The Cure was planning? Some big showdown with all his boxing brothers present?
So I just say it. To everybody.
“Chloe is missing.”
Literally the entire room gets to their feet at once.
The Cure speaks first. “I’m aware of the situation. Two servers saw her go into the bathroom, but the room was empty when they checked. We have guards at every door.”
“She's nowhere downstairs. I already looked.”
The Cure talks into his own lapel. “Anyone missing from the other room?”
“Two are,” I say. “I was just in there. I want help looking for her.”
Parker and Colt charge for the door.
“Let's check upstairs,” I tell them. “They can't get out the doors without being seen. They’re either upstairs or they smashed the window.”
The three of us take off for the stairs. Colt pauses by a guard. “Anyone go up?” he asks.
“Not that I’ve seen,” he says.
“Let’s check anyway,” I say. “We have to be sure.” At this point, I don’t trust anyone.
We dash up the curving staircase, taking the steps three at a time.
“The windows in this place don't open?” Parker asks.
“Not unless you want to set off the entire alarm system,” Colt says. “I don't think anybody involved in this problem has the skills to take down the security.”
I've never been upstairs in The Cure's house. Colt leads the way. “You two start checking the rooms on this end. I'm going to start at the other end.”
I open the first door. It's a bedroom. “Chloe?” I call. My rage is building. What have they done with her?
I make a quick dash through the room, checking under the bed, opening the closet, walking through the bathroom that leads to the next bedroom. Nothing. I go back out into the hall. Parker is there.
“Nothing on my side,” Parker says.
Colt comes out from the other end of the hall. “Nobody down here,” he says. “The guard is right. I don't get a sense that anybody's been up here at all.”
“Then where the hell is she?” I ask. She can’t just have disappeared.
“There's an underground passage to the workout room,” Colt says. “I don't think any of them would know about it, but I'm not sure there was a guard stationed at it. It's a hidden entrance.”
Colt leads us down a set of narrow back stairs to the kitchen. We stop at the back door that leads to the pool and outbuildings.
“I assume nobody's come through here?” Colt asks.
“Nobody,” the guard says in a low tone. “No one has exited this house or compromised any windows. We have guards on the perimeter anyway.”
I expect Colt to ask him about the passageway to the other building, but he doesn't. Maybe even the guards don't know about it. Makes sense. If you're concerned about treason from within, this is a deep secret to be kept only in the family.
But obviously someone knows.
Colt gestures to us. “Let's head this way,” he says.
We take a side exit out of the kitchen, through a breakfast area, and into another hallway that leads to the side annex of the house. The wall seems unbroken, which is why I passed right on by last time.
Colt opens a small door in the wall, the sort to hide a thermostat. Inside is a keypad. He types on it.
The wall slides open on smooth rollers.
“Dang,” Parker says.
We go into a formal study with wall-to-wall shelving. There aren't a ton of books, but there are framed photographs, trophies, and inside the lit glass cabinet, an entire row of boxing championship belts.
This must be The Cure's office.
Colt goes behind the enormous mahogany desk and feels underneath the surface to the right of the tall leather chair. He must push something because there’s a faint c
lick and the shelves in the far corner pop open the barest inch.
“I love secret compartments,” Parker says. “I swear to God I’m going to build a house with a hundred of them.”
Chapter 18: Chloe
I become aware of my surroundings in stages. My stomach feels a hundred times worse than it did before. And the terrible acrid stench sticks to my nostrils.
I know better than to let on that I’m awake, though. I keep my eyes shut and listen carefully to everything around me.
Mumbled voices occasionally get loud enough to discern.
“He’ll be here any minute.”
“I hope he knows what he's doing.”
Who will be here any minute? The General? The Cure?
I know I’m not in the hands of The Cure's family. If they wanted to get me, they could've done that at any point last night while I was at Colt's house.
The General is at this dinner. Conceivably, he was invited as a guest to talk things over. Presumably, he decided to play a hand instead.
The voices get softer, as if they are moving away. Regardless, there could be a silent guard very close. I won’t know unless I look.
I carefully open my eyes to just slits. The room is dim, which gives me a little more confidence that I won't be noticed. I flick my gaze left, right, still heavily hooded to make sure no one is right beside me, watching my face.
There’s no one.
I open my eyes a bit more, careful not to turn my head.
I’m beneath something. There’s a structure not far above my head. If I lifted my arm, I couldn't quite touch it, but almost. It's black and solid. I shift my eyes far to the right. There, I see a source of light coming through cracks and seams, and a line along the bottom of the walls of whatever I'm in.
I look to the left to see more of the same.
The scent of this place is very particular. It's vinyl and rubber and chalky, with an undertone of bleach where things have been cleaned.
I'm in the gym. A place where people work out. I smell the equipment.
Wherever I am, I'm alone. I turn my head and can see every part of my surroundings. It’s all the same. Short, flat walls with seams and a small gap at the bottom.
As my eyes adjust even more, I can make out the edges of the roof above me. It's a circle. No, not a circle. It's an octagon.
Holy crap, I'm underneath a fight cage.
I look more carefully at the walls and realize that they’re actually the vinyl pads that wrap the underside of a cage. I turn my chin to look behind me and spot the stairs that lead up to where fighters have their matches. More light gets through there.
The voices continue, seeming to get closer again, like they’re pacing the room.
“They’re going to notice she's gone soon.”
“The General needs to get his ass in here.”
“I don't know what his game is.”
“I could rough the bitch up myself for busting two nights. My brother went to jail twice because of her.”
Now I know for sure who is out there.
Because the voices are coming closer, I don't dare change my position. As I wait, I realize I’ve lost my shoes. And there’s something rough around my ankle. I shift my foot. A rope or something. I’m probably tied to one of the poles holding up the cage.
“Check on her. Make sure she isn’t coming around.”
I close my eyes tight and make sure my breathing is slow.
I hear the rip of Velcro, and the subtle shift of temperature as fresh air flows inside my space.
“Still out.”
When the voices are muffled again. I open my eyes. They won’t check on me again for a moment. I quickly roll over and examine my ankle. It’s tied down, but if I’m patient, I think I can work it free.
Is there anything in here I can use?
Nothing. Only a surprisingly clean floor and padded walls.
A shadow crosses the stairs. I can see through the grid of the steps. I crawl over as close as my rope will let me and peer out.
I was right. It’s some sort of workout facility. I have no idea how long I was unconscious, so I don't know if I’m still on the compound grounds, or if I’ve been transported somewhere.
God. This is crazy. They kidnapped me?
I take in everything I can see from my limited perspective. A set of weights. Some of the tall round bags I’ve seen people punch in movies. The wall is painted red and white. In giant letters, I get my answer. The Cure McClure.
So we’re still near the house. This is probably a separate building on the grounds. They must've snuck me out.
One of the men passes by, too close to be safe. I feel as though he could glance over and easily see my blond hair in the dark. I shrink back into the shadows, but I still watch.
“What is taking so long?”
“Relax. Nobody knows we’re out here. They had guards on all the exits, so they’ll have to look inside.”
“How did The General even know about that passageway?”
“One of his star fighters used to be friends with Colt when they were kids.”
Great, a traitor among them. I wonder what else he knows.
A door I can’t see opens and closes.
“What's happening out there?” one of them asks.
“They’re all looking for her. That boyfriend is panicked.”
“What’s The General going to do?”
“Take a power position on the negotiations. He won’t return the girl until they meet his demands.”
Great. I’m a bargaining chip in a game I don’t even want to play. They can’t use me if they don’t have me.
I wish I weren’t in a fancy dress. I’ll have a much harder time getting away. I wonder where my phone is. My purse isn’t on me anymore. They knew to take that precaution.
“What do we do?”
“Just hang tight. If anyone comes in here, just act chill, like The General told us to take a break. She still out?”
“Yeah.”
“Make sure she doesn’t wake up. We don’t need her screaming in here and having a guard hear her.”
Crap, they’ll check on me again soon. I’m no longer exactly sure where I was lying down or at what angle. Probably they don’t remember either.
I sit back and examine the knot at my ankle. It’s tight, the rope cutting into my skin. Tugging at it doesn’t help. I need to shove something thin inside it to start working it loose.
I feel my hair and pull out a bobby pin. It slides into the knot easily, but it’s too small to make any headway in loosening the tie. I take out another, and another, linking them together, trying to make something strong. Still nothing.
I need to connect them.
I touch my earrings. Three black beads on a thin silver wire. I pull one out. The straight end of the bobby pin won’t quite go in the hole of one of the beads, but it’s close. These earrings are cheap. The holes probably aren’t consistent. I jerk the other one out and break it apart. I take the biggest bead and jam the bobby pin in. Almost.
I shift to my knees and put the bobby pin bead down against the floor. I use all my weight and the end finally goes into the hole. It’s on nice and tight.
I shove the bead end into the knot. Now I can work it, make it give.
The men pace back and forth, passing the stairs. I shift to approximately where I was, so I can lie down quickly.
The knot begins to loosen, and finally I can get a finger in there.
My nail breaks and my skin rubs raw as I tug on the rope. It gives a little more, and then I have it. The rope falls away.
I return to the stairs to see where the guards are in relation to the door. I’m only going to have one shot at making a run for it.
But I’m getting out of here.
Chapter 19: Hudson
The three of us are about to head over to the shelves that popped open inside The Cure’s office when his private butler enters the room.
“How did you know we were here?�
� Colt asks. The hidden door slid closed as soon as we all passed through.
“I’m notified when someone enters here,” he says. “Your father insists you return to the dining room immediately.”
“No way,” Colt says. “Were pretty sure they've taken Chloe to the gym via the passageway.”
“The main event of the evening is at hand,” the butler says. “He will expect you.”
“What's going on?” Colt asks.
“The General is standing on the table and kicking off all the plates,” he says. “He’s announced that he has the girl and will not return her until his demands are met.”
“Shit,” Colt says. He glances back at us. “I'm going back. You guys do what you need to do.” He tilts his head toward the shelves.
“You’ve told them about the passageway?” the butler asks.
“I’d trust these guys with my life,” Colt says.
The butler nods. “Very well.”
Colt leaves the room with the butler. I don't care what The General might be doing in the dining room. I want Chloe.
When the room is clear, Parker and I head over to the shelves.
“You think it just swings open?” Parker asks.
“Hell if I know,” I say. I place my fingers on the inside edge and pull forward.
The shelf glides forward like a dream, smooth as silk.
“That is sweet,” Parker says.
Behind it, the passageway is dimly lit, with a line of lights along the floor.
I take off running down the passageway. It's a steel-lined tunnel. My dress shoes clang more than I like on the floor so I lighten my step.
I come to the fork, and I have no idea which way to go. Dammit, Colt. Why didn't you tell us?
Parker comes up behind me. “Which way?”
“You take one, and I'll take the other,” I say. “If you don't find anything, head back here and go the other direction.”
“See you on the flip side,” Parker says over his shoulder as he hurries down his fork.
I dash down mine. I haven’t gone terribly far when I sense the ground sloping up.
A doorway lies ahead, just a sliver of light in the cracks.
