Finding Faye:

by A. J. Andersen

  John side-eyes me with a shake of his head and speaks up. “That’s a hard no. They are both mildly concussed.” He gestures at Blake and I.

  Xavier chuckles. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I have one. It’s not every day you find out your uncle is attempting to stage a coup and kidnapping your wife was his first fucking strike.” He looks beyond pissed.

  “Well fuck,” I say, “this is a shit show.” Turning to John, I ask, “You sure I can’t have that drink?”

  “Still don’t recommend it, boss.”

  Disgusted, I shake my head. “Any idea where your uncle has set up shop?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. He was supposed to have gone back to New York when I came west.”

  “Any ideas?” Mike asks. He doesn’t usually say much. He’s a SEAL, not a Marine like John, Blake and I. Not that that has anything to do with him being quiet; but he’s seen some messed up shit in his time, like the rest of us. There’s a darkness about him that simmers just beneath the surface. He’s handy as hell in a fight and quick to offer his interrogation skills when needed. Like I said, dark.

  Xavier must sense the darkness in him and he nods slowly, weighing his response before volunteering information. Mike’s a good guy, but intense.

  “Analise’s dad has been gone for a few days. No one has a clue where he is. He has a gambling problem. At first, I figured he was holed up somewhere drinking and gambling, but with Ana and your girl being snatched the way they were, I think there’s a chance that he might be involved.”

  “Seems possible,” I agree, glancing over to Blake to gauge his reaction.

  “I knew he was going to be trouble when I brought him out here,” Xavier says, finishing his drink and slamming the glass down on his desk. “He always ran with Dominic and my father’s men.”

  “Then why did you bring him?” Blake asks.

  I know the answer before he says it; it’s obvious to me. I would have made the same choice in his shoes.

  “Analise. I couldn’t leave her in New York when I was coming here.”

  It’s just as I suspected, he brought a man he couldn’t trust to keep her near him. He loves her.

  We spend a little longer getting acquainted before deciding that everyone needs some sleep. Fortunately the penthouse has plenty of rooms. John and Mike take the two that Xavier points out so they get some rack time while Blake, Xavier and I turn the formal dining room into a com center.

  Blake is in his kind of heaven. While we were in the office, someone brought up all of our equipment. There are three laptops set up, all running different programs. A petite dark haired waitress brings up coffee and sandwiches when Xavier calls down to the kitchen, and Blake is chugging coffee while hacking into traffic cameras, casino security cameras, and local police databases like it’s nothing.

  Xavier watches him for a few minutes before walking away, shaking his head. “Come look over the gear in my panic room and see if there is anything you think we can use.”

  After one last glance at Blake clicking away in his own little world, I follow. The doors open with a pin code and his thumb print.

  The panic room is perfect. I swear I’m going to put one in my house as soon as we get home. It’s a walk-in closet converted into a miniature arsenal with enough room for at least a couple people to hide in. Gun racks line the back wall and there are crates of corresponding ammo on the shelves.

  I’m liking this guy more and more.

  A couple hours later my eyes are blurry and gritty. My thoughts feel foggy. I blink trying to clear them, but it’s no use.

  “It’s our turn to get some sleep,” I grumble. Everything is set up. Blake has his computers running every license plate caught on camera in real-time, as well as reviewing the last several hours of footage.

  Blake pushes his chair away from the electronic chaos on the table with a yawn before stretching to his feet.

  “I’ll go wake up John and Mike.” He yawns again and rolls his neck and shoulders as he trudges down the hall. I know he’s gotta be hurting as much, or more, than me. His head sustained a significant hit against the window when we rolled.

  It doesn’t take long for our replacements to slip into the kitchen, heading right to the coffee cart and filling mugs with the steaming brew. They aren’t as good as Blake, no one really is, but they should be able to spot the armored truck if they see it on one of the monitors. That’s enough for now. None of us will be any good for what’s coming if we don’t get some sleep.

  We exchange a few brief words, the most important ones being that they wake me up immediately if they see anything. It’s a good thing I learned how to sleep under any circumstances in the military; otherwise, I know that I wouldn’t catch a single second of rest until I have Faye back beside me where she belongs.

  I rub my hand absently over the ache behind my breastbone. Less than 24 hours ago she was asleep in my arms and I was confident that we would never spend another night apart. It’s hard to accept how wrong I was about that. Wrong about allowing her to come along. Wrong to think I would keep her safe. I should have left her at home and dealt with the fallout when I got back. Becca would have come and stayed with her so she wouldn’t have been alone, they seemed to really like each other. Plus she would have enjoyed the time with Max. Becca’s dogs too.

  Bringing her with me was a mistake. One I will remedy soon. I won’t accept anything less.

  “I’m coming for you, Sweetpea,” I promise as exhaustion finally pulls me into the darkness of sleep, with only the sounds of Faye crying in my dreams to keep me company.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Faye

  Warm streams of golden sunlight peeking through the uncovered window wakes me up abruptly. It’s like my body suddenly had enough rest and has to get up right now.

  My heart is thundering and I’m a little disoriented, even though I remember everything that happened yesterday. There is no pretending we aren’t in trouble, and there’s absolutely no sense trying to go back to sleep. I’d prefer to be awake and ready the next time someone comes to check on us.

  My entire body feels like one massive bruise. I’ve never been in a car accident before. I didn’t realize there would be no relief from the pain. Especially my abused shoulder. That is, by far, the worst. I stretch out onto my back on the lumpy mattress and roll my head toward Ana.

  She is curled in a little ball, hugging her baby bump protectively. I wipe my gritty eyes as tears start leaking from the corners. Somehow, I have to protect her from this mess we're in.

  My stomach rumbles in the brittle silence, reminding me that I haven't eaten since lunch the day before. I’m sore, scared and hungry. I really miss Travis. Not a good combination to wake up to. Self pity over takes me again and I slowly blow out a long quivering breath, pushing the negative thoughts away.

  I might be scared, but I know that it’s a total waste of time. Right now I need to think clearly, to not be overwhelmed by my feelings. I have to try to save myself. That is what Travis would want me to do. What he would expect me to do.

  Ana must feel me shifting around as I try to ease my sore muscles, because she uncurls before rolling over to meet my eyes.

  “Hey,” she greets me, her voice shaking, before bursting into tears. “What are we going to do?”

  There isn’t anything I can say to reassure her, so I take her hand while she lets her panic out.

  My own cheeks are wet with the tears I had been fighting back by the time she pulls herself back together. Stiff muscles screaming at me in protest, I climb slowly from the bare mattress and struggle to my feet and go to the window. Leaning heavily against the wall, I look outside. We are in Las Vegas—one look outside to the city glimmering below confirms that.

  “At least we know that your husband is close by,” I say, trying to find a way to stay positive when Ana points out the building she had been living in. It’s not far. She even points out the bank of windows that used to be her livin
g room. If we can find a way out of here we could be there in fifteen minutes. Less if we run.

  Knowing safety is so close is somewhat reassuring and helps to boost my confidence. I know that I can get there. I just have to figure out how. More importantly, how to get Ana there, since I know that she can’t move as fast as me..

  There is a door connecting us to another room and I gingerly turn the knob, expecting it to be locked. I’m thrilled when knob turns and the door swings open into a small, dirty bathroom. Exposed plumbing shows in the ripped up walls, but all the fixtures are still in place. Twisting the knob with a sharp squeal, I can’t stop the tiny spark of happiness I feel when the faucet sputters, spewing out a thin stream of sour smelling yellow water that slowly runs clear after a couple of minutes.

  Finally something positive.

  After taking care of the necessities we use cold water to wash up the best we can in the small sink. There isn’t a shower. No soap or towels either. We use our hands to fill our empty bellies with water before returning to the mattress on the floor to sit in the sunshine and wait for whatever happens next.

  The sun is high in the sky and the small room is stuffy. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s late enough that when I last glanced at the street below I could see that it was bustling with people. The grating sound of a key in the lock sends me scrambling to my feet. I help Ana up as a bearded man walks in with a gun in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. He is tall and dark, his brow furrowed with what looks like anger or some other unpleasant emotion.

  “Dad!” Ana cries out, running to him and throwing her arms around his waist.

  He pushes her away from him and narrows his eyes at her, his thin lips twisting into a sneer. I see the moment she realizes he isn’t there to help us. Her face falls, and my blossoming hope of being rescued dies a swift, agonizing death. Ana’s cheeks pale and she sways a little on her on her feet, rocked by the revelation that he own father isn’t here to save her.

  “Dad?” she whispers, confusion bleeding out of the single syllable.

  I cross the room and slip my arm around her waist, helping her to sit down on the floor by the window.

  Once she is settled, crying into her hands hopelessly, I turn back to her sorry excuse of a father.

  “You’re not here to help us,” I state with as little emotion as I can muster. I won’t let him see how shaken I am. When Ana ran to him my heart had leapt with the belief that we were about to be saved. I forgot that this is the man who sold her into marriage to pay off a gambling debt. Of course, he isn't here to help us. The kind of man he is only does what will benefit himself. It’s unmistakable in the way he regards her first, then me, with open disdain.

  “I'm here to deliver some food. Dominic doesn't want this one,” he says as he points at Ana, “to go hungry. Her delicate condition and all.” His laugh is humorless as he drops the bag to the floor and walks out the door without another glance at his daughter.

  When the lock clicks I scuttle over, grabbing the bag before returning to sit beside my friend. I’m afraid someone might come back and take it away from us.

  Ana is still crying, deep silent sobs. I pull her against me until she has no more tears left. Together we sit in the uncomfortably still room, unable to speak, both lost in our own thoughts.

  I can’t even imagine what she must be feeling. I was my dad’s little princess. I never knew a day of hardship before his death. The idea of a father being able to betray his daughter so deeply shocks me. I know that my dad would have laid down his life for mine if he had to.

  Eventually Ana’s tears calm down and she motions to the bag beside me. “We should see what he brought.”

  We dump the bag on the floor between us. Bread, peanut butter, jelly and two big bottles of water. Could be worse, I suppose. In the bottom of the bag is a plastic spoon. Of course they wouldn’t give us anything useful.

  A butter knife, so we could at least pretend that we could use it to try and break out of here, would have been nice. Not that we would have gotten very far with it.

  I won’t complain about the food, though. I know I’m starving, and Ana needs to eat, so I set about making a couple sandwiches. Ana picks up the jelly jar, staring at the label while I spread the chunky peanut butter on the spongy white bread.

  “He brought my favorite,” she whispers in a broken voice, holding the jar of raspberry preserves out to me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she isn’t crying anymore.

  After eating our sticky sandwiches we lay back down beside each other for the remainder of the afternoon, discussing escape options. There aren’t many. We don’t stand a chance of being able to get out the door past even a single guard, let alone the two out there, if the muffled voices we can hear over the low drone of a television are any indication.

  Everyone we have seen so far has been armed, and I am not capable of taking on an armed man. I’m a runner, not a scrapper. There is no way I can fight my way out and I won’t let Ana do anything that would put the baby at risk, so for now it’s nothing but talk.

  The afternoon drags on without any other visitors. It must be dinner time. The smell of Chinese take-out wafts under the door, making my stomach growl.

  The sun is setting and I’m feeling antsy. There has to be a way out of here. This is an old building that is clearly being renovated. On a whim wander back over to the tall narrow windows and test the latch. It’s stiff with disuse, but it unlocks and with just a small push it opens.

  It opens!

  Apparently they haven’t gotten around to replacing the windows yet. It will be a tight squeeze, but I think I should be able to fit through the meager opening. For once my small size will be to my advantage.

  There is a slight ledge below the windows that spans the length of the building. Leaning my head out I can see that there is a ladder just a couple of windows down from this one that looks like it goes up to the rooftop. I am terrified of heights, but doing this is better than taking our chances with the men holding us captive. There is no safe way to get past them, but I should be able to get up to the roof and then find a way to get down to the street below. If I can do that, I know that I can get to Xavier’s building and get help.

  It’s getting too dark to attempt it now, but at first light I’m going out on that ledge even if it kills me. I hope it doesn’t come to that. I just got Travis back in my life and I’m not ready to let him go.

  Ana is watching me closely when I shut the window and turn back toward her.

  “I’m going out the window at sunrise,” I whisper. Her eyes widen with surprise and she nods her agreement.

  “Better try to get some rest then,” she whispers back, a small spark of hope returning to her eyes. No one is coming. They don’t know where we are. I’m going to have to go to them. It’s up to me now and we both know it.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Faye

  I feel like I might throw up the PB&J that Ana insisted I eat this morning. I have never been so terrified in my life, not even when I was sixteen and running for my life.

  Ana hugs me tightly, her body trembling. Or maybe it’s mine. I hope not.

  I force myself through the narrow window and onto the precarious ledge outside. The air is blessedly still in the golden morning light. I slide a few shuffling steps toward the ladder. “Don’t look down, don’t look down,” I chant to myself, struggling to keep my eyes focused on the ledge letting the street below fade into an unthreatening blur.

  I have never liked heights. I can’t remember when the aversion started, but even as a child I didn’t climb trees or play on the monkey bars at school. My palms are clammy and my breathing is labored. This is one of my worst nightmares, but I know this is our only opportunity to get help.

  If I can’t get onto the roof and then somehow to Xavier’s building … I just don’t know what will happen to us… to me.

  From the little Ana’s dad said yesterday, I know she is the one they want. That makes me expendable
, and if somehow they figure out that the late Xavier Cerelli had been looking for me at one time… well, I don’t think that would work out in my favor either.

  Don’t look down, Faye. Don’t look down. Squeezing my eyes tight, I flatten my sweaty palms against the cool brick building against my back and force my feet to move again. Slide. Step. Slide.

  When I open them again, I do it—I look down.

  A sudden sensation of vertigo overcomes me and I suck in a terrified breath, fighting the dizziness. Snapping my eyes closed again, and jerking back, my head bumps against the wall behind me. I take deep shaky breaths, struggling to calm my terror.

  I will not make the mistake of doing that again. Returning my gaze to the ladder, I resume my slow shuffle. Slide. Step. Slide.

  The ladder is almost in reach when I hear Ana screaming for me to hurry. Her panicked voice is cut off by the sound of men shouting and the window banging open. They aren’t concerned with being quiet.

  “She’s heading to the roof!” someone yells.

  “Hurry, Faye!” Ana sounds frantic, and I know that I’m caught. It’s too late, but there is no other option. I have to try to make it.

  Glancing back, I can see one of them looking out the window at me and gesturing. I don’t hear Ana’s voice anymore, and that is scares me even more..

  As quickly as possible I scramble up the ladder, but it’s farther to the roof than I expected it to be and my jello legs aren’t helping me make it to the top as fast as I want them to. I was hoping to find a place to hide before they can reach me, but I’m not going fast enough and I know it.

  “Just a little more,” I mumble to myself as my sweating palm slips from the metal rung and my heart stops for a terrifying moment as I wait to fall. “Only a couple more.”

  Pushing down my fear, I struggle over the ledge between me and the rooftop before rolling onto my back, gasping for breath. Without warning, a huge shadow falls over me and I’m caught roughly in the grip of a man’s hands. With a hard shake I’m yanked to my feet. My teeth click together, hard, catching the inside of my cheek and the rusty flavor of my blood coats my tongue. I blink up at him as my whole body starts trembling.