Nothing made sense. I shook my head, looking down at the bottom of my soaked jeans. The water was all the way up to my crotch, way deeper than I’d realized. I turned my head to look back at Vanessa and screamed her name as I saw the wave two feet behind her.
“Vanessa!”
Our eyes locked together and time stopped. The water reflected in her eyes, creating a shimmering blue like I’d only seen once before, on a cold night, under the stars of a dark Oregon sky.
“Frankie!?” I whispered.
The crash of reality was more stunning than the crash of the ten foot wave that engulfed us. I realized in an instant that everything I’d ever cared about, everything I’d ever gained and then lost, had been found again and yet ripped away once more, all in the same fucking cruel moment.
A hint of a smile found its way to my lips as the crystal blue of her eyes turned into the crystal blue water that swirled around us like air, blanketing us under its heavy weight - robbing us of our past, our present, our air…our lives.
I smiled because I’d found her. No matter who she was. Because in that last lightening-strike of a moment, nothing mattered but that.
We tumbled through the waves, our limbs dancing gracefully, weightlessly, uncontrollably in the churning violence of the ocean’s whim. We sank farther and farther away from the surface, her red wig floating up and away from her head towards the light above us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Royce
“You’d better have some news for me!” I growled at Travis. I was seething in anger that he hadn’t found Vanessa yet. I knew the longer she was gone, the farther away she was getting.
“Sorry, boss, she just vanished into thin fucking air!”
“She’s a fucking human, asshole, not a goddamned bubble!” I closed the distance between us, grabbing the collar of his shirt in my hand and pulling him close. “You’ve got till tomorrow! You understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, nodding firmly.
“You sure, Travis?”
“Yes,” he said, tearing his eyes away from mine.
“Look at me!” I barked. “If she’s not back in this fucking house in twenty-four hours, what’s going to happen to you?”
“You’re going to fire me,” he said, raising his eyes to mine.
“Wrong,” I said, lowering my voice and bringing my face millimeters away from his. “I’m going to fucking kill you. Am I clear?”
He raised his chin, took a deep breath and nodded again.
“Crystal.”
“Good,” I snapped, releasing his shirt and shoving him away from me.
“Now, why the fuck are you here?”
“It’s about the party, sir.”
“What about it? And why do you care? I’ll worry about the fucking party, you just concentrate on not getting yourself killed.”
“Well, sir, I’ve been given some information —,” he began.
“Does this information involve Vanessa’s whereabouts?” I interrupted. I was so sick of his fucking incompetence. If he’d done his job, she wouldn’t be missing.
“No, it’s —.”
“— then get the fuck out of my face!” I roared, my blood boiling. He jumped and hurried out of the room, leaving me alone with my rage. Nobody had ever betrayed me this way, and Vanessa was going to have hell to pay when I found her. If I let her live - which I hadn’t decided on yet — she was going to learn a very big lesson.
You don’t fuck with Royce Randolph and get away with it.
She was mine. I’d claimed her long ago, body and soul, and there was no way she was getting away. I shuddered to think about who she was with, what she was doing - who she was letting touch her face - my face. The thought made me sick to my stomach. She was the one thing I had that was pure in my life.
All my business dealings were the twisted, fucked-up results of fraud and corruption. Everyone around me were fucking sharks, only looking out for their own pleasure and power and wealth. That included me, without a doubt. I was just as bad, if not worse, than everyone else, and I never held any disillusions about that. But Vanessa was the one thing in my life that was good. She wasn’t corrupted. She wasn’t a liar or a thief or a fucking con artist. She was innocent and genuine.
Sure, she hated my fucking guts, but that didn’t make her less clean.
Possessing her, in some fucked up way, made me feel less dirty. It made being in my own skin a little more bearable. It made me hate myself just a tiny little bit less. Vanessa’s existence in my life helped me sleep through the night.
The fact that I hadn’t tainted her, that I hadn’t ruined her, redeemed me.
All those other people I’d fucked over? Not just the business deals, but all the people. I’d conned people out of millions of dollars, but I knew most people would think the most harm I was doing was probably to those girls. The ones at the parties. The ones I kept on my island.
But I knew that wasn’t true. Those girls were paid handsomely for their services. I wasn’t forcing them to do anything they didn’t want to do.
But I couldn’t help but think they were still dirty.
Not like my Vanessa. My pure, perfect, untouched beauty.
I had to fucking find her. If Travis didn’t have her back to me by tomorrow, he’d be buried by midnight.
I sat down on my bed - our bed - the one I’d slept alone in for the last few days, and tried to think of where she might have gone. She’d taken nothing with her. She had no money, no friends, no family, no life outside of me.
Wherever she was, I was certain she was alone. Which actually made me feel a little better, once I came to that conclusion.
Because I would have to kill whoever touched my Vanessa, I just would.
My phone rang, startling me and ripping me from my thoughts.
“What’s up, Bruce?” I answered. Bruce was an old friend that I’d made millions with over the years. He was an overseas banker. I made sure he had clients and he made sure I got a little finder’s fee. Vanessa and I had dinner with him and his wife three weeks ago after they’d arrived from their home in the Cayman Islands for a vacation in the States.
“Royce, I’m so glad you answered,” his deep voice boomed through the phone, the sound of crashing waves in the background.
“Always, Bruce. You at the coast? I hear waves.”
“I am, actually. Took a trip here to sightsee with Vivian. That’s why I’m calling.”
“What’s up?”
“Well, I hope I’m wrong, but I’m not sure, so I couldn’t just not call. But it’s about your wife.”
“Vanessa? What about her?” I asked.
“Well, shit, Royce, I could have sworn I just saw her. Is everything okay with the two of you?”
“Of course it is. Why do you ask?” My heart was racing. Maybe this was a lead.
“Is she with you, Royce? I could have sworn I just saw her.”
“She’s not here,” I said, guarding my words. I didn’t want anyone to know Vanessa had left me, if I could help it. “She went out of town for a few days to unwind.”
“I see. Well, I’m pretty sure I just saw her, Royce, and well…”
“What, Bruce? Where are you?”
“I’m at Hug Point just South of Cannon Beach, Royce…I’m pretty sure it’s her, Royce, and well, it’s not good, man, it’s not good at all…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Wreck
The ambulance ride to the hospital was a time of pure torture. I sat in the corner, watching the paramedics work on Vanessa, her cold, lifeless body completely unresponsive to everything they were doing to her.
I shook my head over and over as I watched, hugging the blanket they’d given me around my body, shivering from the fear more than the cold. My clothes were soaked and all I could taste was the fishy, salty ocean water I’d swallowed.
I’d done everything I could to save her. The wave took us both out, but she taken the brunt of its force. On
ce I’d finally reached her and was able to get a good grip on her, we’d both been under for at least a minute or two.
I don’t know - time stopped the first time she said Frankie’s name and everything after that was such a blur that nothing was making sense, especially time.
All I remember thinking is that I had to save her, no matter who she was.
Even if she was playing some kind of game with me, I still had to save her.
Whoever she was.
Could she really be Frankie? I wondered.
None of that really mattered. All I knew was that I couldn’t lose her, I just couldn’t. And yet, even though I’d finally managed to latch onto her ankle and pull her head up as fast as I could, it was too late.
I pulled her limp body to shore with the help of the couple that had arrived earlier. I’d begun performing CPR on her until the paramedics arrived and took over, but she still hadn’t opened her eyes.
We’d been rushed back up the stairs and into the ambulance and now here I was, my heart in my throat and Vanessa lying there unconscious and not breathing, as the ambulance driver drove at the speed of sound to get us to the hospital.
“Come on, baby, come on,” I muttered, shaking, shivering, and more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life. “I can’t lose you, I can’t lose you…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Royce
“Bruce?” I answered the phone before the first ring was finished. “What did you find out?”
“Not much,” he said. “They were in a big hurry to get them out of here.”
“Them?” I asked.
“Yeah, she was with a guy. A big guy. Big scar on his face.”
“I see,” I said, rage and worry boiling through my veins. If this was Vanessa, and she’d let someone else get close enough to touch that virgin face of mine, I was going to have to kill him.
“Look, Royce, I hope it’s okay, but I snapped a photo, just in case. Maybe it’s not her after all? Her hair was wet…she was unconscious, maybe I’m wrong. My eyes could be betraying me.”
“No, I’m glad you took a photo. Can you text it to me?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks, Bruce. Say - did you hear what hospital she was going to?”
“Providence in Seaside,” he answered. “It’s the closest emergency room.”
“Got it,” I said, “send me that picture. Thanks, Bruce. I’m hoping it’s not her, but if it is I’ll let you know.”
“Sure, man. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Will do,” I said, hanging up. A moment later the photo came through. I nodded slowly as I saw it. It was definitely my Vanessa.
A water-logged Vanessa was passed out on the beach with a man hovering over her, a look of complete anguish on his face. I squinted and looked closer. He looked very, very familiar. I went into my closet and pulled out a box I hadn’t looked in for a very long time. The picture was still there, just as I’d left it years ago. I hadn’t needed it. Vanessa had been so compliant, so obedient, there was no need for my threats any longer.
I compared the two pictures side by side, my mind altering the first, aging the face, adding scars, paying close attention to the similarities in the eyes.
“How the fuck did she find him?” I murmured out loud in the empty room. “That little whore!”
I threw my phone against the room and it bounced off the wall.
I grabbed my keys and locked up the house, rage dripping off of me with the realization that my little Madonna had turned into a cheating whore.
If she wasn’t dead by the time I reached that fucking hospital, she’d better pray I’d found some mercy along the way.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Wreck
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
I stood up, pacing around Vanessa’s room again like a caged animal. The sound of the heart monitor mixing with the raspy sound of the breathing tube that was protruding from her mouth was pure torture. She still hadn’t woken up and I was beyond fear at this point. Pure, black terror had taken residence deep inside of me, and I had no idea what to do with myself.
Wait. That’s what the doctor had said.
Nothing else to do. It’s up to her to fight.
Great words and all, but I wanted to be the one doing the fucking fighting. I wanted to punch death right in its ugly fucking face until it was so far away from this room that it couldn’t get close to her. The fact that I couldn’t do that only served to piss me off even more.
I was helpless.
It should have been me.
I should have gotten to her quicker.
My head was filled with an endless cycle of self-blame and hate and regret, not to mention complete and utter confusion.
Now that we were in the hospital, I’d had some space to think a little. I still had no idea why Vanessa was trying to tell me that she was Frankie. It didn’t make any sense. Frankie was dead, for fuck’s sake, I’d gone to her funeral, been there when her ashes were scattered into the fucking ocean, for god’s sake. There was obviously some mistake, something else she was trying to tell me.
Vanessa was someone else entirely. She didn’t even look like Frankie, she didn’t sound like Frankie - but there was her laugh. I remembered now the way I’d felt when I’d first heard her laugh really loudly. It was unnerving. It gave me chills, it was so similar to Frankie’s. But was that alone enough to convince me that my old dead girlfriend had come back to life?
I was lost.
So fucking lost.
I didn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to even fucking believe.
I shuddered to think what I would do if I were all alone right now. Luckily, I wouldn’t be alone for long. I’d used the hospital phone to call Ryder after we’d arrived, since mine was ruined in the ocean. He’d assured me he and Grace were on their way and I’d never been more grateful for family in my life.
I stared down at Vanessa, studying her face, looking for Frankie in there. But I knew I wouldn’t find what I was looking for. There were no physical similarities that stood out to me. Even her body was different, her curves nothing like the sharp angles of Frankie’s teenaged body. I sighed and turned away.
It was hard to look at her. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to pull through.
Stop it! I told myself. Think positive, you asshole.
I walked back over to her and gently put my hand over hers.
“Vanessa, babe, I’m right here, okay? You’re going to pull out of this, you just have to fight,” I whispered, my voice quivering, despite my efforts to sound strong. “We’ll figure everything out, I promise, babe. Just stay strong for me. Stay strong.” I dipped my head to her shoulder, wishing I could just crawl into bed with her and hold her until she woke up.
“Everything’s going to be alright…” I whispered again, trying my damnedest to blink back the tears that threatened to fall down my face.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t respond.
Her body laid there like she wasn’t even in the room with me.
I can’t lose her, I thought, I just fucking can’t go through this shit again!
***
“Wreck!”
I jumped awake and blinked, staring up at Ryder, Grace, Doc, Riot and Slade.
“You’re here!” I jumped up and practically leapt into Ryder’s arms.
“Dude,” he said, pulling me close and patting my back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright, the doctors checked me out.” My chest was burning and I began coughing violently. “I’ll probably be coughing up salt for a few days, but whatever,” I said, when I had regained my breath.
“And her?” he asked, nodding at Vanessa.
“I don’t know, Ryder,” I answered. “I don’t know. We were wading in the ocean and didn’t see the wave coming. It’s all my fucking fault, man!”
“Stop it,” he said
, shaking his head as he pulled away. “It’s not your fault! Don’t say that. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt this girl.”
“I should have moved faster,” I protested, my voice sounding haunted and far-away.
“You did what you could,” he said.
“I’m going to go see if I can find the doctor,” Doc said. “See what they’re doing to treat her.” He walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.
“Did anyone see her, you think?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know. It was all a blur…” I replied, my voice trailing off. “I fucked everything up.”
“Stop it, goddammit!” Ryder barked. “The last thing she needs is you feeling sorry for yourself. You gotta fucking buck up and be a man now. She needs that from you.”
“You’re right,” I replied, nodding and taking a deep breath and dissolving into a fit of coughs again.
“So, what happened exactly?” Riot asked, his voice a low whisper.
“I don’t know. It happened so fast,” I began, my voice raspy. “We were wading in the water, talking…”
“That water can’t be more than fifty degrees…”
“Yeah, it was fucking cold, alright, but —,” I stopped, wondering how much I should tell them. But these people were my friends, hell they were more than that. They were the only family I had. If I couldn’t tell them the truth, who could I tell?
“But what?” Ryder asked.
“We were arguing, I guess? I know it sounds bad, but, but - she —,” I hesitated. “Which one of you told her about Frankie?” I finally asked, hoping for some simple explanation.
“Frankie who?” Slade asked.
“Frankie Moretti, my old girlfriend. The one that died.”
“Why would we do that?” Ryder asked.
“I may have mentioned something,” Grace said, “but I didn’t say much at all. Just that you had an old love that you lost, that’s all.”
“Well,” I continued, still in a state of disbelief that I was about to say these words out loud. “—she told me that she’s Frankie.”
WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR Page 15
