Taken By Force (Taken Trilogy Book 2)

by Jessica Frances

  “Charlie?”

  “Just a couple more drinks. Maybe a shot to help my nerves,” I lie. Get one shot into Heather and suddenly you have five empty shot glasses in front of you.

  “One shot?” Heather leans over the bar, causing many men around us to glance her way. She takes a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, pours us both one and we quickly shoot it back.

  “One for luck?” I take the bottle off her and pour us another one each. She eyes it hesitantly, but already her hand is moving towards it.

  “Probably should have one for the road, too.” Heather gets into the spirit now and I’m beginning to feel like the floor is floating under us.

  “One for the hell of it?” I offer.

  “One for Owen!”

  “One for the bar!”

  “One for us!” Heather laughs and shoots the liquid back before she falls backwards and knocks over a stool.

  “Out! Both of you out!” Owen grabs my arm as well as Heather’s and throws us both out into the cold.

  “We didn’t get to have one for Zoe.” Heather frowns.

  “I have a bottle at home, we can have one there before we go.”

  “Does she live far? I think we might need a taxi.” Heather sways from next to me and I hold my hand out just in time for a taxi to pull over. We both get in and I tell the driver my address. We just have to keep on drinking until any thought of going to see Zoe leaves. It’s the only way to avoid getting myself into trouble.

  Chapter 15 – The Depression

  Houston, Texas

  December 24th (Charlie aged 6)

  “Mom, what do you think Santa is going to bring me for Christmas?” I ask her as we lie in bed together because she isn’t feeling well. She’s been sick a lot lately and she’s always in bed. I don’t mind, though, because she lets me lie in bed with her once Dad is at work and sometimes we won’t get up all day.

  “I don’t know, dear, whatever you could want I would expect.” She looks dazed and she runs her fingers through my hair over and over. Mom is so pretty.

  “Really? Do you think I’ll get Gumby?”

  “Well, you’ve been a good boy all year, so I think you might.”

  I definitely can’t wait until Christmas now. This time of year is my favorite because I get two lots of presents within the weeks from my birthday and Christmas.

  “Do me a favor, sweetie, and give Mommy some alone time. Go play with the toys you got for your birthday.” Mom looks upset and I want to hug her instead, so that’s what I do.

  “I love you, sweetie. You know that, right?”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Good boy, now off you go.” She lets go of me and I reluctantly move off the bed and out into the chilly hallway. I rush along the hall on my bare feet and jump into my room where it’s carpeted and warm. I pull out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles I’d gotten and play with them; making them fly through the air and crashing them into my bed.

  I play until my arms hurt and my stomach rumbles. I listen out for Dad’s car and I don’t have to wait long before I hear it. I run to the door and open it up, seeing him park the car and get out. Today he looks extra dirty. If I could have any job in the world when I grow up, it would be his. He gets to play outside all day and today he must have been playing in the mud.

  “Daddy!” I call out and try to open the screen door, but it’s locked. I know I can just flick the lock on the handle to get it open, I’ve seen Mom and Dad do it loads of times, but I’m not allowed to touch it, so I wait for him to find his keys and open the door before I hug his legs, getting mud all over myself.

  “Champ,careful, you’ll get mud all—ah, too late. Come here then.” He picks me up and I hug him tightly. I hate that he has to leave Mom and me every day. I wish we could all stay home together forever.

  “Where’s your mom?” he asks as he drops the keys in the bowl by the door and carries me through to their bedroom. He sits me down on the bed and opens up his wardrobe to change. I look around the room, wondering where Mom could be. I didn’t think she’d left the room while I played, but looking around, I see she isn’t in here.

  “I don’t know.”

  “So what have you two been doing today?” he asks, dropping his dirty shirt to the ground before putting on a clean t-shirt.

  “I played cops and robbers with my turtles. Did you know turtles can fly, Daddy?”

  He turns the light off in the closet and shuts the door, looking at me in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing.” He ruffles my hair as he passes me. “What about Mom? Is she feeling any better today?”

  “She wanted to be alone today.” I hate spending the day by myself. I wish I could have brothers and sisters to play with.

  “Did she now?” Dad mutters to himself and walks to the other closed door in the room and tries to open it. It’s locked. “Cate, are you in there? Open the door,” Dad calls out and bangs his fist loudly into the door. “Cate, wake up!” he yells this time and I think the door might fall off with how hard he hits it. I cover my ears and watch as his knocking grows more frantic. “Stand back, I’m coming in.” He takes a few steps backwards before he charges into the door, slamming it open.

  I wait for him to come out with Mom, but instead, I hear more yelling before he races out of the room and out into the hallway. I hear him picking up the phone and I quietly sneak into the bathroom. I see Mom asleep on the ground, looking pale. I shake her arm, trying to wake her, but she doesn’t stir. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. I try again and this time her head moves to the side, but still she doesn’t open her eyes. She feels so cold.

  “Mommy, wake up,” I beg, pushing her harder this time.

  “Charlie, get away from her.” Dad pushes me out into the bedroom and leans over her, the phone still in his hands.

  I watch him feel her neck and speak panicky into the phone. I haven’t ever heard him sound afraid before. It makes me scared. Is Mommy really sick? Is she going to be okay?

  Dad kisses Mom over and over again and pushes his hands into her chest, but she still doesn’t wake. I think it might be because she’s cold. I pull the extra blanket off their bed and drag it over to them.

  There’s a loud knocking at the door and Dad tells me to let whoever is there inside. I’m never allowed to answer the door to strangers.

  I run to the door because I feel like it’s urgent. I know a sob is stuck in my throat. Something is wrong with Mom and it’s scaring Dad. I open the main door and cold air hits me from outside. Dad had turned the lights on in the hallway when he’d gotten home, but already they’re out. Lights always go out in the house. I see two men standing at the door with bags that have big red crosses on them. They’re doctors.

  “Hey kid, we’re here to help. My name is George and this is Kev. Can we come in?”

  I click the lock and point down the hallway when both men rush in. I run to keep up with them and Dad leaves the bathroom while the men surround Mom.

  He picks me up and faces me away from them. I close my eyes and wish she’ll hurry and wake up.

  Chapter 16 – The Hangover

  Tampa, Florida

  December 21st

  I’m sitting in Rose’s car, feeling angry at myself. Not only have I done something completely stupid that will put Zoe and me in jeopardy, but I’ve managed to compromise myself so much that I’m practically useless right now. I’m tired, I’m sick, I’m oddly hungry and I’m in such a bad mood that I’ve snapped at Rose more times than I care to count. My head is pounding, but I can’t stop myself from thinking. Thinking of Zoe and if she is okay.

  Rose said Joel had been compromised, that they’ve always known where Zoe is. The thought chills me. She should never have gone with him. She should have stayed with me. If she had, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Now,here I am—hung-over, tired, cranky and worried as hell—while we drive across country because she decided to choose the furthest place from me.

  Will she be okay when we
get to her? Even if we make it before anything happens, how will she be? She’s just spent the last eight months with the guy who tried to kill her; someone who killed her best friend, someone who she used to like.

  I’m conflicted. On one hand I wonder if she’s been able to move on at all, deal with her grief that was so evident to me back at The Windmill. I wonder how she is after being around Joel, and if that has helped or hindered her healing. On my other irrational hand, I’m worried that she’s spent the last eight months with a guy who, while clearly was damaged, also seemed to care a lot about her.

  I saw the longing looks he gave her when she wasn’t looking. I saw how interested he was in the two of us. He was checking out what was going on between us. He may have been in no condition to act on anything since he was messed up after his torture from P.A.G.E., but how about eight months later? Has he managed to get her to forgive him? Could she ever get over her anger at him and realize those feelings she must have had for him earlier? Or what if the bastard has hurt her? What if he has more dreams, ones that demand he harm her? That was his excuse last time. What the hell was I thinking leaving her with him?

  I shake my head out of those thoughts and wince when it causes me further pain. These past few months I’ve had many hangovers, but I’ve been lucky to have time on my own to recover from them. Rose turns the music up and I’m fully aware that she does it to spite me. I look at the rearview mirror from the backseat where I’m slumped, and Rose meets my eyes and glares. She’s disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in me.

  I frown and gaze outside at the fast passing terrain surrounding us. We’ve been driving for seven hours, passing through Tennessee now. Hopefully, we’ll be in Jacksonville later tonight. The sun has risen, and while I know it’s urgent we get to Zoe straight away, I wish I had been able to shower quickly. I just threw on the first lot of clothing I found and grabbed some other clothes to take with me. I know I won’t ever go back there again. Now I’m wearing clothes that haven’t been washed since who knows when, and I smell like a bar.

  I pull at my hair, racing my hand through it. When it doesn’t flop back down to rest on my forehead, I know I need to wash it. It’s gotten longer since I’ve been away. I haven’t bothered to keep up at all with my usual rituals. The only reason I even bothered shaving is because I got some work at a hotel doing odd jobs, mostly just fixing stuff. I wasn’t usually seen by guests, but I was still required to look clean cut.

  I rub my chin and feel the stubble roughly scratch my hand. I don’t like it. I want to wash away last night. I wish it didn’t happen. I wish none of this happened. I want to be back home in Houston with Dad.

  It’s nearly Christmas, and while I’ve always wanted to be home with him, this feels worse. This will be our first Christmas apart and I hate how upset that’ll make him. I never thought I would have a Christmas without him and I know it’s going to eat at him that he doesn’t know where I am or how I am. My hand taps my leg nervously and I want to grab Rose’s cell from the top of her bag and call home. The urge is greater than it’s ever been and I know it’s because I’m tired and depressed. I just want to hear his voice, hear that he’s okay.

  Knowing Zoe is in trouble keeps my hand from reaching over to get it. I can’t put us at risk like that when she is in real trouble.

  I see Rose’s cell light up again and read the name ‘Dean’. I don’t really care enough to ask her who that is. It doesn’t matter, whoever it is she probably won’t be able to see again. Maybe that is why she is in such a bad mood. Well, another reason that doesn’t involve me being a dick. She’s managed to get some form of life wherever she was and now she’s had to up and leave that one, too.

  It isn’t fair. I might not get along with Rose all that much, especially right now, however she doesn’t deserve this. None of us do. Us running right now, it’ll change things. It’ll mean we tried to be apart and it didn’t work. That leaves us with two options. Running again or fighting back. I’m not sure we’re equipped to fight back, but we might not have a choice. If we decide to run again, I’m going to have a very hard time leaving Zoe.

  It was surprisingly hard the last time, and I’ve thought of her constantly. My feelings for her shock and scare me. I know what we went through was intense, and I guess it might very well be normal to have strong feelings, but I’m not one to form connections easily. Sure, I’ve liked girls before, but it’s never felt like this. I miss her. I haven’t ever missed a girl I’ve liked before. I missed Zoe the moment she drove off. I wanted to chase down the car and demand she leave with me. My legs even started to move towards the road, yet common sense took over.

  She might not want anything to do with me after today. I have to tell her; it’ll be completely wrong not to. I can’t falsely lead her on, however the thought that she’ll hate me eats at me. I don’t care if I can’t ever forgive myself; I’ll have to work every day to try and deserve her forgiveness.

  “Are you sober enough to drive yet?” Rose snaps from the front seat. Yet another sore point with her. Will can’t drive and therefore Rose has been stuck doing it. She was ecstatic to have a rest and hand the driving duties over to me. Enter me, still drunk, and Rose was far from impressed.

  “I think so,” I grumble. I drown the water left in the bottle next to me and it wets my dry throat. Unfortunately, it dries again moments later. I think I’m going to have to drink my weight in water before I start to feel okay.

  Rose pulls the car over and gets out, stretching. I do the same while she refuses to even look at me.

  I get in the front seat, feeling sore already. My head pounds and I turn down the music, happy to finally be in control of it.

  “Hey,” I murmur to Will, seeing how pale he’s looking. He’s barely said a word since they arrived at my apartment. Not that Will is much of a talker, but I worry that it’s because he’s disappointed in me, too. “You okay?” I ask him as we pull back out onto the road, finding a break in the traffic. I look at my rearview mirror and watch Rose looking at her phone while wiping away a stray tear. She quickly throws her cell back into her bag and closes her eyes. I feel a pang of sympathy for her.

  “I don’t like being in a car.” Will winces and keeps his eyes peeled on the road ahead.

  “Maybe try and sleep through it?” I suggest, unsure what else will work.

  “I can’t.”

  “What helps?”

  “Nothing.” He sounds disheartened.

  “How about a distraction? Have you played that ‘I spy’ game before?”

  “No, what is that?” He turns to glance at me.

  “It’s not the easiest to do out here, but we can give it a try. You just pick something out around us and then say ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with’ and you place the letter of what you’re thinking of. Then the other person tries to guess it.”

  “I’m not very good at spelling.”

  “Then you might learn something as well.” I try to give him a smile, glad when he appears to not look so desolate while he thinks it over.

  “Okay, you go first.”

  I look around us and try and find something simple.

  ***

  I drive us all the way into Jacksonville. The streets are busy, even given the time of five in the morning, and while it’s cold, it’s not so bitter. My head still aches, but the stop we made for food and more water has settled my stomach. The game Will and I played seems to have helped him a bit, too, and I even noticed him nodding off for a short while as we drove. Rose finds a computer to use and gets an address for Zoe. Her mood has not improved and I notice she’s now turned her cellphone off.

  When we find the apartment complex Zoe and Joel are staying in, we drive by it several times. Rose thinks she’s seen something off and we realize there is a dark colored van parked across the road that has a man sitting in the front. His head is leaning against his chest with a camera hanging around his neck. No doubt he’s dozing. We assume he is part of the surveil
lance on the building and on Zoe.

  “Let’s just sneak in, grab her and then sneak back out,” Rose suggests.

  “What if that guy wakes up?” I ask, worrying we might walk Zoe into a trap.

  “Will, you stay and watch him. If he wakes up or if you’re seen, then honk the horn, okay?”

  Will nods yes, his eyes studying the van just further up from where we’ve parked.

  Rose doesn’t look back as she races across the busy street and glides seamlessly towards the front door of the apartment building. We have our first piece of luck when we see Joel coming out of the lift. If possible, he looks worse than before, and that was when I saw him after he’d been tortured by P.A.G.E. His face is pale, he looks as though he’s lost weight and he’s got dark rings under his eyes.

  We wave at him and see his shock turn into nerves. He quickly races over, buzzes us in and we push past him. We hide behind a solid brick wall so no one outside has a view of us.

  “What’s going—”

  “We need to move. You’re being watched,” Rose hisses at him.

  “What?”

  “Back at The Windmill, you had a tracking device placed in you,” she explains.

  Joel’s eyes widen as panic and fear cross his face. It helps me to believe he really didn’t know.

  “Where is Zoe? We have to get her out of here.” I look over to the lifts, knowing I’m so close to seeing her again.

  “She left.”

  “What? When?” Now it’s Rose’s turn to gasp.

  “Yesterday. She left a note saying she had a dream about Will being in trouble and she had to go.”

  “Yesterday!” Rose shrieks loudly and I look around us to make sure no one is watching. The hall remains empty.

  “So we go back to your place and get her from there,” I spit out, annoyed I’ll have to wait longer to see her. Hopefully, Rose’s place is close to here.