by Mia Wolf
“What is all this?” I text back. If it’s what I think it is, I don’t think Steve Parera is going to live if we cross paths. When we cross paths. I’m going to find him, it doesn’t matter if I have to search the entire city. Besides, he’s something of a celebrity. It’d be a piece of cake to find out where he lives. But for Ashley’s sake, for her reputation, I keep my temper in check. If this can be handled wisely with the help of the authorities, then that’s what we’ll do. The last thing I want to happen is for her to get in even more danger.
“I found them in Steve’s drawer. He seems to be obsessed with Ashley.”
“Obsessed would be putting it mildly. He’s acting like a mad dog. In any case, get out of there. It’s not safe. Who knows what else he is capable of?”
I check and recheck the drawers of Ashley’s minimalist desk. There’s a torso of a dummy in a corner, draped with half a dozen fabrics, and a low table right next to an empty hanging rod. On the left is a shelf full of items that I’m guessing have some sentimental value.
I read the description on the trophies. They say, “Fashion designer of the year,” for five consecutive years. I swell with an immediate sense of pride to think she did all this by herself. I look around the room, lit only by the flashlight on my phone. She created all of this, an empire with nothing but her hands. I’m lucky to even have her in my life.
My phone buzzes again. “I’m here, at the entrance to Regal’s office. We can go to the police right now,” the text reads.
“Start the car,” I text Rose.
I grab the hard drive that probably has the CCTV footage on it and give the room a final once-over in case I’m missing something. Once I know I’ve got everything, I take my leave and run downstairs. I need to find Ashley.
“Let’s go,” I say, jumping into the passenger seat and Rose steps on the gas.
I don’t know what Steve might be doing to Ashley, but if that day was any indication, the way Ashley was out of breath and panicking, it can’t be good. She would be in no position to take care of herself. I try not to imagine Ashley feeling weak and vulnerable because it makes my blood boil. It’ll be hard not to rip Steve’s throat out.
“Tell me what you know about this guy, Steve,” I order Rose.
There’s a throbbing in my head and my heart and it doesn’t help that they’re both pounding synchronously. Ashley is missing. All the worst thoughts swirl through my head about how scared she must be, how hungry and thirsty she must be, and how I hope she isn’t feeling alone. Then sense hits me and I realize there’s no way she’s not feeling alone and terrified.
It would be easy right now to lose all composure and succumb to the fear of losing her, but I can’t let that happen. She needs me right now.
Chapter 34 – Ashley
I wake up feeling groggy and cough out something bitter. The first sense that hits me is a strong stench of something rotting faraway. I don’t know what it is but it makes me gag. I move a little and a strong, overwhelming sense of pain in my back knocks the wind right out of me. I slump even further, as much as I possibly can, to make the pain go away. In order to soothe the sore spot, I try reaching it with my hands only to realize that I can’t move them because they’re tied behind my back. My back is pressed against a hard surface, a wall maybe. I feel unable to open my eyes, because the pain is too much. Slowly but surely, my awareness is coming back to me, and I start feeling each and every sinew in my body. My toes are hurting as if I stubbed them repeatedly, there’s a shooting pain along my spine, and my mouth hurts from gritting in my sleep. That always happens when I’m having nightmares. Is that what this is? A nightmare? I sit upright, careful not to put pressure on my bruised toes.
I finally open my eyes and the edges of my forehead hurt as soon as bright light hits my corneas. I narrow my eyes to slits to try and make sense of my surrounding. The rotting smell has passed and now everything smells dusty, making my nose crinkle. I’m not allergic but can’t stand the smell of dust either. When my eyes are accustomed to the bright sunlight, I look around. The windows are high up, near the top of the ceiling, which must mean that I’m in a basement.
That’s when it all starts adding up in my head. I’m in a dusty basement with my hands tied behind my back. The sudden pulsing headache jolts my memory and I remember passing out in my office.
That’s right, I was watching the CCTV footage and then—
Steve!
I’m gripped by fear in an instant. My palms are sweaty, my hands are shaking behind my back, my body is curling inwards, and if I could I would weep, but I’m so parched. My mouth is completely dry and I can tell my lips have begun to crack. A voice pops up in my head, You’re going to die in here.
I do cry, but no tears come out. The internal wail soothes me, though, it placates me, but it doesn’t last for long. A feeling of self-preservation kicks in, a burst of adrenaline, and I start screaming.
“Somebody, help me!” I yell at the top of my lungs, but most of it comes out as a hoarse whisper. It doesn’t matter, I scream again and again until my throat hurts and I can no longer find the energy.
That’s when he shows up.
Through drowsy eyes, I see him walk languidly like he always does. He opens the door and steps closer and closer to me, his heavy steps thudding on the floor as he sticks his belly out like a balloon. The fear and anxiety crash over me again. This time, it’s not just my hands that are shaking; my heart is pounding in my rib cage as if it wants to pop out of the cavity and end this debilitating torture for good. The shortness of breath is making me dizzy, and I can feel that I’m losing oxygen.
“Don’t fall asleep again, princess,” I hear Steve say and his words echo in my ears like they’re pinballing against mountaintops, coming back to me in swathes of reverberations.
Everything is in slow motion.
“Wake up,” Steve yells so loudly that it hurts my ears, but it does wake me up.
I lift my heavy eyelids and clearly see Steve’s face. The last time I did, I got a panic attack and right now my entire body is vibrating, screaming in fear of this detestable man.
“Good, good,” he says approvingly as my eyes open up more. He takes a seat, slumping into a chair in front of me. I can see his repulsive thoughts clearly. They’re written all over his slimy face.
“Are you wondering by any chance why you’re here?” Steve says.
I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to be in the same room as him, I don’t want to breathe the same air, but I can’t control any of those things. So I don’t reply.
“Ashley, Ashley, Ashley,” Steve says when I look away from him in an attempt to block him out. “You underestimate me.”
That much is true. I underestimated how vile he could be.
“You’re here because you figured out who it was that stole all of your designs,” he says standing up from the chair and pacing up and down. “Fine, I’ll admit it, I stole them,” he says in his French accent and in a manner of a soliloquy as if he’s a part of a play.
I can see him moving from the corner of my eye, and I try not to pay attention to him, but the anxiety and the panic have me crippled. I’m aware of every motion in the room.
“But you’re not asking the right questions, Ashley,” Steve says then pauses and looks at me. He approaches me and I recoil, flattening my back against the wall, collapsing my body inwards. “What are you so afraid of?” Steve asks as if I’m a child he might pacify.
“You don’t want to know why I stole the designs?” he asks then flashes a smile from ear to ear. He looks absolutely maniacal at the moment, and I try my best not to feel afraid, but it’s not working that well. I’m quivering. “I’ve hit a road block, Ashley,” Steve begins. At least, his face is turned away this time so I don’t have to see his repulsive face. “I haven’t lifted a pen in two years. Nothing is coming up, nothing is coming out, I’ve hit a dry run, and I don’t know how it’s going to continue. Do you know what it’s like to sudden
ly wake up one day and not know how to do the thing you’ve been doing all your life? Do you know what that can do to you? Probably not.”
He’s still not looking at me so I don’t interject. He’s not wrong. I don’t know what it feels like to not be able to draw designs. It sounds terrible.
Steve mumbles something to himself then shifts his focus back to me. He has a menacing look on his face that I don’t like in the slightest. “You, on the other hand, Ashley Wang. You have no clue what you’re doing to the rest of us. Isn’t it about time that you retire and let someone else take the mantle of being the queen of the fashion world? You are launching a new fashion line? How on earth is that humanly possible? Are you even human?” The question is so real and genuine that I don’t know what he expects me to say. What else would I be if not human?
“I think I’ll be doing a lot of people a favor by taking care of Ashley Wang. And don’t worry, I’ll put your designs to good use,” he says, giving me another glance. Then he leaves, walking away without untying the knot on the wrists, without giving me water or food. And as he walks away and my brain tells me to say something, anything, to try to change his mind, to get myself out of here, nothing comes out of my mouth. Nothing but the air that barely tells me that I’m still alive. That there’s a heartbeat, a pulse, and a breath. I’m as light as a feather.
When he’s long gone, I pour over the meaning of his words. He said he’ll take care of Ashley Wang which means he’s going to kill me. But when? Will he torture me before that? Am I going to starve to death?
I imagine the scenarios of my own death, mulling over the possibilities, taking my favorite pick. Quietly in my sleep, that’s how I want to go. I try to distract myself from the hunger, thirst, and pain and retreat to my mind which is oddly calm like I’m in the eye of a hurricane. I see the light filtering in through the window up above and take that as a sign that everything will be okay, that I will be fine, and that before things get worse, I’ll probably die. The thought lulls me, cradles me in its arms, until I finally lose consciousness.
Chapter 35 – Warren
We drive to the police station in the middle of the night. There’s a sense of calm coursing through my veins that’s placating me, telling me that I’ll find her and that she’ll be fine. It’s keeping all the ugly thoughts at bay. I need this fool’s optimism if I want to make it through the night.
“You look pale,” Rose says as she takes a sharp turn left, adjusting the mirror with her free hand. She’s a seasoned driver. A love for cars, that’s what our dad instilled in us. We never had expensive ones to try our hands at. Now I make those cars and I suppose Andrew wouldn’t stop Rose from driving his.
“How’s it going with your husband?” I ask her, diverting the topic from my pale appearance.
“We’re doing fine,” she replies.
I let the calm and quiet of the night trick me into believing that it’s a good sign, that things will be fine. Eventually.
“How’s it going with you and Ashley?” Rose asks hesitantly as if afraid to stir something that must not be disturbed.
“We are doing good, too,” I say then correct myself. “Or at least we were.”
“You never told me about her before. You never told me that you two were together before.”
I shrug my shoulder because what else can I say? Do I know myself why I never told anyone about Ashley? She was like a secret I wanted to keep from the world.
“I never got the chance to,” I say to Rose hoping it will suffice.
“Why do you keep closing yourself off, Warren?”
Do I? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. “I’m trying to get better, Rose. I really am.”
Rose sighs then waits for a long time before she speaks again. In the meantime, I see the skyscrapers flashing by. “Tell me the truth. Are you worried about her? What are you thinking?”
“Yeah, I’m worried about her,” I say a little louder than I intended. “I’m worried to death, actually. And I don’t know where she is, I don’t have a clue. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see her face again and I don’t know why I never told anyone about her. She’s way too good for me, Rose. I don’t deserve her, maybe that’s why I never talked about her because I always feared she would leave me. I mean, why would a girl like her be with me? I’m so damaged.” I’m almost out of breath from speaking and from panic, I suppose. It’s like a wall broke and all the thoughts came pouring out the other end.
“Why don’t you let her decide whether she likes you?” Rose says. “She clearly does, and yet you’re constantly trying to put words in her mouth. Even if it’s hard to think that you deserve her, you do. You want to know why? It’s because you deserve the world. I think mom and dad were always clear about that. Were you not listening?”
“I was listening alright,” I scoff, but I know she’s right. I don’t know when I’ll stop wallowing in my own self-pity. Ashley likes me and that’s that.
Rose lets out a deep sigh and I can tell from her grip on the steering wheel that she’s shaking. I want to put a comforting hand on her shoulder and tell her that it’s going to be okay but I don’t know that. The only thing keeping me from losing my mind right now is that Ashley needs me.
We finally reach the police station and find the place swarming with media vans, reporters, and journalists. From what I gather, I understand that a couple of young celebrities got into a fight and got arrested. We push through the crowd and finally are able to make our way in. Most of the officers are busy, but I find one who seems to be free and explain the entire situation to him.
“Here’s the tape,” I say while handing the hard drive to the officer.
He obviously has no idea what to do about the case and goes to find a senior officer. I see him pulling an older man away from the crowd and telling him what’s going on. Or, at least that’s what it looks like. I see the older officer shake his head after which he approaches us.
“Sir, if you say what’s on the tape is on the tape, then it won’t be enough evidence to conclude anything. We’ll need to investigate a bit more and as you can see we’re a little occupied at the moment. Bring the evidence in tomorrow morning.”
“But Steve has kidnapped Ashley!” Rose blurts out angrily.
“Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset and worried but there’s not enough evidence to call this a kidnapping yet. We really can’t do anything at the moment,” the officer says and walks back to the herd of people gathered in the middle of the police station.
I have nothing else to say to them. It looks like we’ll have to do this by ourselves, and we don’t have a moment to waste.
I grab Rose’s hand and storm out of the police station, taking the hard drive with me because clearly, the police are too busy to help us right now.
I wonder how they’re going to handle the news when it comes out that the police refused to help out Ashley Wang. They better be ready for more media vans and journalists.
“What are we doing?” Rose asks. She’s already starting the car.
“Do you know where Steve lives?” I ask her.
“Of course I know, he has one of the most ostentatious houses around. It’s not too far out of the city,” Rose tells me.
“Then let’s go.”
“Are we going to take him on ourselves?”
I look at Rose in the mirror and tell her what I’m thinking without speaking a word. Her expression tells me she understands.
“What’s he going to do to a couple of bear shifters?” she mumbles the words in my stead. “I’m calling Andrew, too. Just in case we need more help.”
Rose steps on the gas while simultaneously calling Andrew.
My thoughts reel back to Ashley. I feel numbness in my chest as if sensation will never return to my heart. I want to smash my fist against a hard surface just to remind myself that I’m alive. I force myself to believe that Ashley is okay. And if she’s okay, then she’s waiting for someone to find her, and I
am going to find her.
Rose gives me a passing glance and the worry is evident in her eyes, too. She steps on the gas some more as we make our way to Steve’s house.
Chapter 36 – Ashley
I thought I’d dozed off for just a second, but when I wake up, it’s night. I feel the rope on my wrists, which gives me a bit of hope because it means that I’m not a goner yet. I’m still here on earth, so there’s still hope.
I try to wriggle free from the rope but it doesn’t give. It has scraped my skin pretty badly, I can feel the wound on my wrists every time the rope rubs against it. I try to get up and I’m surprised to find that I can. I limp across the basement to the window. Perhaps I can find some clue as to where I am.
I’m looking out of the window when I see a shadow walk out into the moonlight. It’s easy to tell that it’s Steve.
I’m frozen in place when I see what happens next. Steve’s body seems to be morphing into something else, as though he’s slowly transforming. He stretches his arms above his head and I can see his hands turning from normal, human hands into something else entirely, something like—claws? Really? Is my head spinning? Am I going crazy?
But it’s not just his hands that are changing. His whole body is transforming into something furry until I can’t even see his head from where I’m standing, only his shadow.
He seems to be covered in brown fur, and then there’s a growl. It echoes in the night as if we’re the only ones here for miles around. He looks like—a bear.
The bear turns around and I can feel the ground trembling as it runs away. What the hell is going on here?
I’m seriously starting to doubt my own sense of reality now. Am I hallucinating? How can Steve be a bear? Now that I think of it, I haven’t had food or water in I don’t know how long, so it’s more than likely that I’m hallucinating. I close my eyes as tightly as I can, hoping that everything will be back to normal when I open them. Hopefully, I will be back home, safely in my bed and this is just a nightmare, albeit a vivid one.
