“We’re all on speaker now, Blade.”
“Where’s Leah?” Blade asks. I do not like his tone. Gruff. Deep. Urgent.
“At my house,” I tell him. “What’s this about?”
“Thomas Levenson was released on bail yesterday.”
I stand rigid. “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell us?”
“Paperwork got fucked up. I only found out accidentally from one of the guys at the station. But it gets worse. He’s got an ankle monitor. He’s supposed to be on house arrest, and he’s missing.”
All the blood drains from my face. “There’s no way he can find her though, right? I mean…” I glance at the door and then rush toward it and lock us in tight. “He could come here, but she’s not here.”
Colton is running a hand through his hair, frowning.
Blade speaks. “It’s possible he simply skipped town to avoid going to prison. He knows he’ll be convicted. He has no defense. He kidnapped someone.”
Eve’s eyes are wide and she’s gripping Colton tightly.
Colton rubs her back and pulls her into his chest.
I start pacing. We’re all thinking.
“Where is her computer?” Blade finally asks.
“At my house. She’s using it.”
“He could track it if he’s a good hacker. After all, he used her IP address to find her. He could track the location of the computer itself.”
“I don’t like it. Let’s go,” Colton announces.
“I’ll call Leah and make sure she’s okay.” My hands are shaking as I pull my phone out of my back pocket to warn Leah, but it starts ringing before I can do anything, and her name is scrolling across the screen.
Chapter 25
Leah
When Craig leaves, I’m so engrossed in my writing that I don’t permit myself to freak out over the prospect of being alone. It’s easier not to think about it. I’m fine. The alarm is set. No one could get into the house easily. I mean I guess they could break a window and then ignore the blaring alarm…
I shake that stupid thought from my mind. It’s not welcome. I’m strong.
Except I’m not strong. I haven’t been strong for over two weeks. I’ve been hiding by living as a little girl, using my preferred age as an excuse not to be strong. It has protected my mind in a way, allowing me to slowly regain confidence without facing everything all at once.
A boom of thunder makes me jump in my seat. I jerk my gaze to the window. It’s pouring down rain. Moments later, I see a bolt of lightning and start counting softly. “One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three…” Boom.
The storm is close. That second boom, even though expected, makes me bolt to my feet. There’s no way I can write anymore. I’m frazzled by the storm.
I snag my phone off the desk and lift it in front of me with shaky fingers, thinking I’ll call Craig. But that’s silly. Why would I call him? It’s just a storm. If I call him to tell him I’m afraid of the thunder, he’ll come right home, and that will put more pressure on my friends to pack my apartment.
No. I’m going to be strong. Since when does a storm send me into a panic? Never. Not since I was a small child. Except that’s what I am now too. I should leave this room. Maybe if I step out of my pink, little-girl room, I can force myself to shift out of my little space.
I’m younger and deeper in my little space when I’m in this room. I like it. It’s a hideaway. I’ve grown attached to this room and everything it represents. When I go to the kitchen, living room, bathroom, or even the master bedroom, my headspace shifts at least slightly.
It’s not a lot because I’m still Craig’s little nearly all the time. Even when I go to Master Quinten’s office, I only marginally pull out of my little self. I’ve noticed I’ve been sliding deeper with time instead of spending less time in the five-year-old age range.
I saw Master Quinten yesterday. He says it’s okay. Not to worry about how much time I’m spending in my little space for now.
It’s just so easy to stay little most of the time. It’s a crutch. I try not to think about it since neither Craig nor Master Quinten are concerned.
Another loud roar of thunder fills the room and makes the house shake.
I run for my bed, pull the comforter back, and jump into it, yanking the covers over my head. I grab my polar bear and squeeze him against my chest. I’m clutching my phone too, but I don’t want to call Craig.
My heart is beating irrationally fast. It’s a storm, I remind myself. Just a storm. Rain. Thunder. Lightning. That’s all. Oh, and wind. I can hear it howling outside.
I curl into a ball, totally covered. Even my head is under the blankets. I’m shaking for no reason. I squeeze my eyes closed and remind myself that I’m fine. Memories of storms when I was young come to the surface.
If my mom was awake and in the room with me, I forced myself to remain calm and pretend I didn’t care. Inside I was a mess, my heart racing. I don’t know why storms scared me. I haven’t thought about that in years.
Mom was so proud of me for always being so grown up and strong when faced with anything that came at us. She would beam and praise me for being what she called an old soul.
Inside, I didn’t feel as strong as she said I was, but I didn’t want to let her down. I didn’t want her to know when I was scared or sad or lonely or stressed. It would add to her own problems.
I always knew she was going to die one day and that she would be too young. I’d heard the doctors tell her how long she would live. Since I was her primary caregiver, I knew better than anyone when she was declining and how fast.
I started grieving the loss of my mom when I was about six or seven, already knowing she wouldn’t always be with me. Even though I didn’t have many friends and no relatives, I had my books and my writing. The characters were my friends. They kept me company.
As soon as I could read at an adult level, I read everything in the house, including my mom’s romance novels. When I exhausted those, I would go to the library and get more. When my mom could still get around and leave the house, we went to the library together. When she couldn’t I quickly realized I could pick up any books I wanted, even if they weren’t age-appropriate. The librarians all knew my mom was sick. They assumed I was getting her more books.
I smile as I remember those days. For a good girl who never got into trouble, that was pretty sneaky of me. I feel kind of proud of myself right now, realizing I wasn’t quite as perfect as I usually recall.
Another boom of thunder takes my breath away, and then I hear a knocking sound. I stiffen, holding my breath. It happens again. I cover my ears with my hands. Surely someone isn’t at the door in this storm.
I try to relax my body after a few minutes, but the knocking starts again, causing me to bolt to sitting. I stare at the door to my room. It’s standing open.
The next time it’s louder. More like a banging. I think it’s coming from the back of the house instead of the front, but I’m confused so I could be wrong.
The banging happens again, even louder, and I jump to my feet, shaking violently. I’m holding my bear and my phone. My knees are wobbly. I glance at my closet before darting that direction. It’s a regular closet with sliding doors and rods, not a walk-in.
I tug the sliding door open on the side that doesn’t have the safe and drop down onto my hands and knees to crawl into the closet under my clothes. As soon as I’m inside, I notice there is a space behind the safe. It’s not large, but the safe is flush to the front of the closet, so it’s wide enough for me to fit.
I’m breathing heavily as I scamper into the tight space behind the safe and squish myself into the corner. No one can find me here. I’m well-hidden. Even if someone breaks into the house, they would only look in this closet and see nothing.
Another bang makes me cry out before I slam my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. A second later, there is a very loud crash and the alarm starts blaring all around me.
I squeeze my eyes close
d and cover my ears. My phone and my polar bear fall into my lap. I need help now. Nothing happening is in my imagination any longer. I know the alarm company will call Craig any second, but I fumble with the phone, my fingers shaking, and manage to call him.
He picks up on the first ring. “Leah?” His voice is oddly worried.
“I’m scared,” I tell him. “I think someone broke into the house.” I’m trying to keep my voice down, but the alarm is so loud no one would be able to hear me anyway.
“I’m on my way there, sweetheart. Where are you?” His voice is strained like he’s running.
“In my closet, behind the safe.”
“Good girl. Don’t move. Try not to talk. Just hold the phone so I’ll know you’re still there.”
“Okay,” my voice is weak. “Please hurry.” I’m shaking violently now, tugging my short dress over my knees and down to my ankles. I try to be smaller, balling up and squeezing my eyes closed.
“The police are coming too, sweetheart. Just hang tight. Stay on the phone with me,” he repeats.
I nod, though he can’t see me.
“Leah?”
“I’m here,” I whisper, uncertain he can hear me. It sounds like it’s raining inside the house, but if someone broke a window or the sliding glass door, the storm would be louder. It’s hard to hear anything over the alarm now though.
My heart is thumping as I lower my face to my knees and rock back and forth. It’s a tight hole though. My shoulders are rubbing the back of the safe and the wall. “Please…” I beg.
“Five minutes, sweetheart.”
Five minutes seems like a very long time. When thunder booms again, it’s much louder, and I scream before I can stop myself. “Daddy, please hurry.”
“I am, sweetheart. Try not to scream, okay?”
I nod again and bite my lip. I don’t hear any people, just the storm and the alarm. There’s no reason to be so freaked out. No one would break into the house during this storm to rob us. The only person who would come after me is Thomas Levenson, and he’s in jail. Plus, he has no idea where I’ve been staying.
I hear sirens.
“Almost there, sweetheart. You okay?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
Seconds tick by. The sirens get louder.
“I’m in the driveway, sweet girl. I’ll be there in a minute. Hold tight.”
It’s raining harder, and the wind is loud, so I can’t hear if Daddy has entered the house or not. Suddenly, the alarm stops blaring. It seems like it takes forever for him to get to me, and finally, I hear his voice. “Leah, I’m here.” He slides the closet door open and shoves everything aside to find me.
I tip my head back and look at him in the dim light. “Daddy.” I start crying.
He drops down onto his knees and reaches for me. “You’re safe, sweetheart. You can come out now.”
I rock forward and crawl toward him, not fully believing he’s here until he has his hands on me and he’s lifting me into his arms.
He holds me so tight, his palms roaming all over me as if I might be injured and he needs to make sure I’m all in one piece. “Shh shh shh. Daddy’s here. You’re okay.”
“Did someone break in?” I ask, my voice faltering.
“No, sweetheart. A tree fell through the kitchen window.”
My eyes go wide and I meet his gaze. My lip is trembling. “A tree?”
He nods as he hurries over to my bed and tugs my comforter off the mattress to wrap it around me. “Yep. It would have scared the hell out of anyone, sweetheart. I bet it was loud.”
“But there was a banging noise,” I tell him.
“It was probably the branch hitting the window over and over until it snapped off and came straight through the glass.” He carries me out of my room and down the hall.
When he reaches the living room, he deposits me in the corner of the sofa and tucks the comforter all around me. He kisses my forehead and holds my cheeks. “Will you be okay? Daddy needs to talk to the police and deal with the glass.”
I nod, noticing two police officers standing outside the sliding glass door.
Daddy kisses me again and then jogs over to the door and opens it. The patio is keeping everyone from getting totally soaked.
A sound behind me makes me jerk more upright and twist around to see Eve and Colton coming in the front door. I’m jumpy. Edgy. My nerves are shot.
Eve rushes over to me. She’s soaked. I don’t care. She wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just scared. I’ve had more than my share of scary lately.”
“You have.”
Colton leans over me from the back of the couch and squeezes my shoulder. His brows are furrowed. His expression is serious. I’d go so far as to say dire. “You girls stay right here. Do not move, understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Eve responds.
He hurries across the room toward the back patio and steps outside to join the cops and Craig.
I can’t hear what anyone is saying, but the discussion looks heated. No one is paying any attention to the broken window or the tree. Craig has both hands on top of his head in exasperation before he slides a palm down his face.
I’m shocked when he speaks. I still can’t hear his words, but he’s furious. I think he’s shouting at the police.
“What’s going on?” I ask Eve, though I don’t see how she would know.
I’m confused and shaking all over again.
Eve sits next to me, finds my hand under the comforter, and holds it tight. “We all thought you were being kidnapped again,” she tells me.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas Levenson was released on bail, and he’s missing.”
My eyes bug out. “You’re kidding.”
She shakes her head. “No. There was a mix-up and no one contacted you as a courtesy.”
“When did this happen?” I sit up taller.
“He was released yesterday. He disabled his ankle monitor and went missing this morning.”
I palm the arm of the couch, white-knuckling it as terror climbs up my spine. “He wouldn’t be able to find me here anyway, right?”
“Blade thinks he could have located your computer itself.”
“Jesus.” No wonder Craig is furious.
He’s pacing now. Every time he turns, I see his teeth are gritted.
“But I’m safe. I’m okay,” I point out.
“Still. The guy is on the run. Maybe he will go into hiding to avoid prison, but no one wants that to happen because you’d be left always looking over your shoulder, worrying if he was coming for you.”
I shudder. She’s right. I can’t take my eyes off Craig as he continues to talk to the police. Finally, he shakes their hands and they leave, never coming into the house.
Craig and Colton don’t come in just yet. They move over to the tree and pull it back through the window above the kitchen sink, leaving a mess of dirt and leaves and broken glass on this side.
“Maybe I should go help,” I say, pushing to sit up straighter. “That’s a mess.”
Eve jerks her gaze to me. “Are you crazy?” she hisses. “If we move from this spot, we’ll both get our butts spanked.”
I smile for the first time since earlier this morning. “Good point.”
“Daddy would have a coronary if I stepped over there with all that broken glass.”
I giggle now. “But it might be fun to see his expression.”
She gives me a shove. “Fun for who? I like my bottom just the way it is, thank you.”
I smirk. “I don’t get spanked when I’m in trouble,” I brag a bit too loudly.
Craig and Colton have stepped inside while we bantered.
Craig clears his throat, grabbing my attention. His brows are lifted. “I don’t know what you two are conspiring, but I don’t think I like your tone, Leah.”
“Sorry, Sir.” I slink back down.
Craig shifts his attention
to Colton. “I’ll grab the broom and find some boards in the garage.”
Eve leans in to whisper. “Your Daddy doesn’t punish you with spankings?”
I shake my head, keeping an eye on the door to the garage. “He uses timeouts, but I bet he will come up with something more impactful if I’m not careful.”
“Hmph.” Eve crosses her arms. “That’s not fair,” she murmurs.
I glance at her. “I get spanked every day, Eve, just not for punishment.”
“Oh.” She stares at me a moment and then repeats herself. “Ohhh.”
We watch while the men clean up the mess and board up the window. After that, they fiddle with the window’s sensor and the alarm so that they can disable it and reset the house alarm.
Finally, they’re done.
Craig comes over and sits on the coffee table so he’s directly facing us. “I assume Eve filled you in about Thomas Levenson.”
I nod. “Yes, Sir. Do you think he can find me?”
Craig sighs. “Yes. Blade does. We need to get rid of your computer and get you a new one.”
“Won’t he already have figured out where I am though?” I ask, fisting my hands together in my lap under the comforter.
“Possibly. I’m working on that problem too.” He leans over and ruffles my hair. “One thing at a time. Do you have everything backed up to the cloud?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Okay, let’s double that up so we’re sure you have everything you need. Colton will take your computer to Blade, and we’ll order another one today.”
I nod. This is overwhelming. Everything. The storm. The tree. The alarm. Having my friends pack my apartment. Being little all the time. Being brave. I suddenly can’t take it anymore. I shove the comforter off me, jump to my feet, and run from the room.
“Leah?” Craig calls after me.
I ignore him and race into my room. I can’t even hide under the covers because my comforter is in the living room, so I dash back to the closet and crawl into the tight space I was in when Craig found me. My phone and my bear are still there. I hug the polar bear tight and fold up into a tight ball, making myself as invisible as possible.
Convincing Leah (Surrender Book 9) Page 23
