by Luna, David
Just then, his cell phone pinged the arrival of a new text. His family was here. He saw his men setting their watches as he walked to the front of the café to let them in. The smell of coffee drifted through the swinging door as he pushed his way through. He saw Layla putting a tray together with coffee and some of Braden’s scones and muffins. Zoe was walking to the front door but he stopped her. “That’s my family. I’ll let them in. Thank you, ladies, for staying and making coffee, it will help. If you could take it to the kitchen, that’s where we’ll all most likely be convening.”
He realized with some surprise that the only person that wasn’t there was his youngest brother, Aiden, who was most likely on a mission with his SEAL team. He opened the door and received hugs from everyone, but there were no questions and there was no chatter. His family knew from talking to Finn and from the look on his face that something bad had happened and he would tell them about it as soon as he was able to. He assumed Aiden was out of the country, but wanted to make sure he didn’t need to wait on him. “Is Aiden OCONUS?”
His dad answered, “Yes, he’s been overseas for several weeks.”
Nodding, he led his family back to the kitchen where the ladies had joined the men and where Detective Miller was still present. He began introductions, “Detective Miller, Layla, Zoe, Maya, Sawyer, Jackson, and I’m sure you all remember Cooper. Everyone, meet my family; my mother, Siobhan; my father, Duncan; my younger sister, Rowan; my older brother, Gideon; and my younger brother, Finn. I’ve invited them here to help out, in any capacity. Let me explain to them what is going on and we can go from there.”
Cade took a deep breath, faced his family and got straight to the point. “We came here, Cooper and I, just shy of two weeks ago. We were here for work, obviously, but we were going to surprise our families. When we got here, Maya’s business partner, Braden, had some trouble with a stalker and we decided to take on his case. Since then, even in so short a time, a lot has happened. Braden has become… Well, he’s become my everything.”
At his mother’s gasp, he smiled sadly at her. “We discovered that his stalker was his abusive ex-boyfriend, Eric, and have been protecting him ever since we arrived. He started escalating by breaking and entering and destroying Braden’s property. This morning, he threatened Braden with recent pictures of Maya and his grandmother, threatened me as well, saying that if Braden didn’t cooperate and go with him, he’d kill one of us. Braden is very protective of those he loves, so he left of his own accord. That was just shy of 9 a.m. this morning.”
Cade crossed his arms over his chest and continued to explain as much as he could. “In addition to that, Braden has a couple health concerns, the biggest being that he is a type 1 diabetic, and we discovered that he left without his insulin, which means, according to Finn, we have less than 36 hours to find him, before he lapses into a diabetic coma. I believe we have much less than that, however, because that timeline shortens when there are high levels of stress and possible injuries. Let me walk you through what has already been done and what is being done currently.”
After explaining what he could about the video cameras catching the car and the phone being cloned, he glanced at Detective Miller, who let them know that he had put out an APB when Eric had slashed Braden’s tires the first time, but he just updated all information to reflect the navy blue Honda Civic and the pictures they had. Maya spoke up, reminding him that Braden’s grandmother would arrive any minute. She also talked to Zoe and Layla, letting them know that they could stay if they wanted, but it was OK if they wanted to leave. Both girls elected to stay and try to help in any way they could.
Cade met Braden’s grandmother in the front when she arrived so that he could tell her what had happened without an audience. She walked in the door looking rather regal and extremely pissed off. As soon as Cade recounted the events of the morning, he could see the fight leave her body and her shoulders slumped as she took a seat at one of the café tables. Cade apologized to her, took responsibility, but just as Maya had done, she put him in his place, reassuring him it wasn’t his fault. She admitted that she arrived feeling as if he was to blame, because he was supposed to be protecting him, but after being told what happened, she believed that Braden would have found a way to leave no matter what, as long as he thought he was protecting people he loved. She asked several questions and then seemed to get herself together and stood up, prepared to meet everyone who had come to help find her grandson.
Braden woke, his head pounding, completely disoriented. His vision was blurry, his head fuzzy, and he didn’t know where he was. He tried to turn over and realized he was caught somehow. He tried to extricate his arm from whatever was holding it and had to squint to look at what was on his wrist. He panicked when he realized it was a pair of handcuffs. He used his free hand to try unsuccessfully to remove the cuffs, which were connected to a chain and attached to something under the bed that he was lying on. His breathing became erratic as his panic grew.
The cuffs allowed for enough movement to change into any position on the bed, but didn’t allow enough slack to move more than a couple steps away from it. His vision cleared just enough to make out familiar shapes and colors, and he realized with horror that he was back in his old bedroom that he used to share with Eric, only it was different. He recognized that it was painted the same, had the same pieces of furniture, but the layout was wrong. He was in a different room, a different house, but everything, down to their pictures they’d had done together professionally, were all put where they’d been in their old bedroom.
He remembered everything now. He remembered leaving the café and getting into Eric’s car. He remembered regretting his decision the second he climbed in and saw the disbelief and shock on Cooper’s face as they drove away, knowing that Cade would feel so betrayed and disappointed. He remembered well the gleam in Eric’s eyes when he glanced his way for the first time since getting in the car. It was that look that did it, the one thing keeping him silent.
As soon as he’d seen that look in Eric’s eyes, he’d remembered the way that Eric used to look at him when they argued, as if it made him perversely happy. He remembered well that look of utter satisfaction after he would beat Braden. The more Braden talked back, yelled, cried, or begged, especially begged, the happier Eric seemed to get. But Braden wasn’t the same man any longer. He was in love with someone else, someone that was worthy of his love and in that love, he’d gained strength and insight into what had been. The second he saw that look in Eric’s eyes was the second Braden decided he was no longer going to play Eric’s games.
Yes, he’d left of his own free will. He’d been stupid and scared for the people he loved. All he could think about was them, at the time. As soon as he got into that car, however, he’d realized the mistake he had made, and he vowed then and there that he was done making mistakes where Eric was concerned. So that maniacal gleam in his eyes was going to fall away. No matter how hard Eric beat him, he wouldn’t give Eric the satisfaction of begging, talking, crying, or reacting the way that Eric wanted. He’d made that decision in the car and immediately he felt a mask of indifference fall over his features. That mask remained and would remain until Cade found him, or until Eric killed him. He would show nothing of his fears, his feelings, his anger, his hurt, and his sadness, as those emotions no longer belonged to Eric.
He knew exactly when Eric realized a difference in him. He began trying to fill the silence, get a reaction from him. He talked at first about their relationship and how they were finally together again. He got no reaction. He mentioned Cade and laughed when he asked Braden if he thought he’d really be man enough to keep someone like him. He got no reaction. Eric continued trying to put doubts in his mind about Cade, doubts that wormed their way into Braden’s psyche, as much as he wanted to deny it, but outwardly, he did not react. Eric talked about what he’d been doing and how he’d left his job in order to find something more challenging. He got no reaction. He’d talked about how he�
�d been watching Braden, while he ran, while he hung out with Maya, when he saw Nana, while he was making deliveries. He got no reaction. He raised his voice to Braden, told him he’d be sorry for the way he’d left him, sorry for the way he was acting now. He got no reaction.
When he didn’t react to the threats, Eric lost control. He’d slammed Braden’s head into the glass in the passenger door, not once, not twice, but three times and knocked him out. His vision was still blurry, and he was very thirsty. He glanced around and saw a bottle of water on the nightstand. He opened it and drank the bottle empty in a matter of seconds. As much as he didn’t want to see Eric, he had to use the bathroom. He had no idea what time it was, or how long he’d been out. He felt his head and found a rather large lump where his head had slammed into the window and realized his hair was matted with what must have been dried blood.
He rolled over as much as he could and saw a digital clock on the nightstand table that read 2:53 p.m. He thought he had left the café around 9 a.m., so it had almost been six hours. His head felt like shit, but he didn’t know if he would have been knocked out for that long because of it, so he began to worry about being drugged, and what might have been in the water he just gulped down. He wanted more, felt like he could drink a gallon of the stuff.
He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for Eric, and he had to urinate, badly. No longer able to wait, he stood up on wobbly legs, made to unzip his fly, planning to pee into the water bottle he’d emptied, when Eric strode in, a gun in his hand, and spoke angrily. “I’ll unlock you to take you to the restroom if you promise not to try anything. I’m not afraid to use this, so don’t fuck with me.”
Braden stood there, made no attempt to answer and waited until Eric unlocked the cuffs, only he didn’t. He got down low in front of Braden’s face and glared into his eyes and grated out, “This silent treatment bullshit isn’t going to work! You need to promise me you won’t try anything when I unlock you.” Braden didn’t respond. Eric yelled, “Answer me, god dammit!” Still Braden didn’t say a word and avoided eye contact completely.
When he saw the backhand coming, he tried to move out of the way, but he still felt dizzy from hitting his head earlier and possibly being drugged, so his movements were sluggish. Not to mention he was surprised Eric was aiming for his face. In the past he’d always avoided it, so that others wouldn’t know he was being beaten. The backhand missed a direct hit to his upper cheek and eye, but he caught the hit on his upper eyelid and eyebrow and felt it split open immediately.
His backward momentum had him reaching back to try to avoid a fall. His hand landed on the edge of the nightstand table, which tipped over under his weight, sending everything that was on it sailing. Braden lost his balance completely and fell at an awkward angle. His left hand took all of his weight, wrenching his wrist back into an impossible position. Braden felt the crack of a bone breaking and shooting pain flew up his arm from his wrist. He screamed out in agony and grabbed his arm to his chest. He gritted his teeth and breathed in deeply trying to dispel the nausea that resurfaced with the pain. His whole body shuddered in agony.
Eric stood above him, his face an angry mask. “Now look what you did! You’re always fucking everything up! Get up!”
Braden knew from experience if he didn’t get up as quickly as possible he was risking a kick or two to the ribs, and he didn’t need any more broken bones than he already had. But, even knowing this, he was too slow and as soon as Eric’s foot made contact with the ribs on his left side, he fell down again, clutching his chest, gasping in pain. He lay there shaking, his body wrecked, and was so close to just giving up, but didn’t want to give Eric the satisfaction, so he struggled to his knees and then slowly got to his feet, still cradling his arm and protecting his ribs.
He knew he was fucked when Eric tucked the gun into the small of his back and reached aggressively for the same arm, preparing to remove the cuffs. Nothing about Eric was gentle, and he knew getting the cuffs off of him was going to be excruciating. Braden was careful to move his arm closer to Eric to try to avoid any rough handling, but Eric grabbed onto his forearm and yanked his arm closer, nearly causing Braden to black out with the pain. He twisted the cuffs until the lock was on top, and he used a key to unlock them. Eric tossed them on the bed and dug his fingers into Braden’s upper arm and dragged him to the bathroom, practically shoving him inside.
Braden kept his back turned towards Eric to avoid giving him the pleasure of seeing his tears. He struggled to breathe in and out, slowly, to avoid more pain in his chest. He used his right hand to lower his fly and proceeded to urinate as quickly as he could. He struggled getting himself back into his pants and zipped back up, but in the end he knew he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t going to show that weakness to Eric. Not to mention, all he needed was that sick fuck’s hands anywhere near his dick. He did his best to wash his hand and glancing at himself in the mirror, he cringed inwardly. He looked awful. His hair was matted at his temple from his introduction to the car’s passenger window; his eyebrow was split open and still oozing blood. His wrist was canted at a strange angle, held gently to his chest, and he looked pale as hell.
He was so damned exhausted and felt so sick to his stomach that he walked back to the bed, passing by Eric without a glance in his direction. He struggled to climb onto the bed, but when he finally managed it, he lay down and held out his right wrist for the cuffs this time. He wasn’t about to put that damn thing back on his broken one. He heard Eric stomp out of the room and just lay there for a couple minutes, thinking his pain was too great and his stomach too upset to fall asleep. He was wrong. He was out only minutes later.
Cade realized he was pacing when he looked up and caught Gideon’s eyes and saw the raised eyebrow. It wasn’t like him to pace and his older brother knew he was not reacting as he normally would. He was used to taking action and felt like a caged animal. It was nearly 4 p.m., and they were no further in their search than they had been six hours ago. He wanted to get in his car and drive around town searching, but he knew that would be a waste of time and probably make him lose whatever sliver of control he had on his temper
Everyone was scattered around the café. They were using the office, the front to make coffee, and the break room; but mostly, everyone was using the kitchen as the home base. His mother had immediately gravitated towards Braden’s grandmother and he’d seen them having more than one whispered conversation. He was sad that they’d met under these circumstances. His family had all let him know they were here for him, and everyone was keeping themselves busy in some way or another.
Detective Miller had asked them if they wanted to get Braden’s story on the news, so that people could be on the lookout for Braden. Both Cade and Maya immediately rejected the idea, and Cade had warned the Detective, in no uncertain terms, who he would blame if it leaked. He knew Braden would hate his life splashed in public that way. As much as they needed to find Braden, there was no guarantee that a media blitz would help in the cause, especially since Eric seemed like such a loner; but there was a guarantee that Braden would feel completely violated by that type of intrusion into his personal life, not to mention how angry it would make Eric if he saw it and then proceeded to take it out on Braden.
Brody had gotten the license plate number from the stolen Honda, and Detective Miller had added it to the search the police were doing. Now it was just a waiting game as they scoured the city looking for the car, the same way he’d done with the other one. However, this time Brody had solicited help from Cade, Sawyer and Jackson, Cade’s sister, and older brother. Brody had gotten them all hooked up to Brody’s intranet on their own laptops and had walked them all through how to search throughout the city for camera footage.
So far Brody had been unable to get a location from the unknown phone number. He’d successfully cloned Braden’s phone but had been unable to get anything through a back trace. It was a prepaid untraceable one and unless it was actively being used, was very
hard to locate.
Actively being used. Shit. He looked up, caught Sawyer’s eye. “Braden’s phone?”
Sawyer turned, unplugged it, and handed it over to Cade. He yanked his own phone from his pocket and dialed Brody. He looked up when he realized the kitchen had immediately become silent, everyone was hyperaware of him, as if they were walking on eggshells, and perhaps they were. Apparently, not only did he feel like a caged animal, he probably looked like one, which was making some of the natives restless. Brody answered the phone. “I caught him on a Wells Fargo Bank camera in the Castro neighborhood, but lost him again after that. We’ll find him, Cade. I’ve got several computers constantly running the search function automatically. I’ve got Landon working on it and my tech guys and the help of everyone there will definitely make a difference. The more eyes we have on the cameras, the better.”
“I know you’re doing everything you can. I’ll see if I can get my Dad and one of my brothers to head over to the Castro district and drive around in the neighborhood on the off chance that they find the car, so let me know if you have any more random sightings. I thought about what you said regarding back tracing the unknown number from Braden’s phone. You said that if it’s not actively being used, it’s nearly impossible to trace. What if I called it or texted it?”
