by Low, JA
“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Logan screams at me.
How am I the bad guy here?
“Fuck. Fuck.” Logan thumps his fist against his desk as he stares at the spot vacated by Lenna.
He hesitates for a couple of moments before jumping up from his desk and rushing after her.
33
Chloe
It’s been a couple of months since the whole Walker threat happened. Noah’s private eye hasn’t turned up anything. It seems like it was just an angry outburst by an overzealous athlete, one that had no real consequences behind it. We’ve waited and waited, and nothing’s happened. So, I’ve told Noah it’s time to relent on the whole twenty-four-hour security detail, so we can stop living our lives in fear of my ex.
As much as it pained Noah, he agreed. He’s relaxed enough even to go away on a business trip over the next couple of days. I told him I will be totally fine as I’m heading off to Bali tomorrow anyway with Emma to shoot that campaign, and Noah’s going to meet me there next week. We are going to have our first official holiday together. Stella thinks he’s going to propose, but I don’t think so. Even though we have spoken about the future, it’s still too soon. I wouldn’t say no if he did ask, though, that’s for sure.
Grabbing my phone off the side table, I pick it up.
“Hey, babe.” Seeing Noah’s name flash up. “Fuck, I miss you,” he moans into the phone which is making my stomach do somersaults.
“I miss you, too.” I really do. During the whole Walker situation, I moved all my stuff in with Noah, and I haven’t moved back. I don’t want to now. “How’s Australia?”
Noah, Logan, Anderson, and EJ are all out there looking for the next location for The Stone Group. EJ’s there because they’re collaborating on this Australian project with him—his restaurant will be the hotel’s in-house dining experience.
“It’s great. Haven’t run into anything yet that can kill me, so that’s a bonus.” I giggle. “It’s so beautiful down here though, babe. You’d love it.”
“As long as none of those huge-ass spiders attack me, then I’ll be fine.”
“You excited about tonight?” I’m catching up with some of the old football WAGs, Bethany, and her crew.
“Actually, I am. It will be nice to sort of put to bed that part of my life. I don’t think we’ll be as close as we once were, but it will be nice to clear the air. Plus, they’re cashed-up. They do like their luxury holidays and have an extensive social media following, so maybe getting them to stay at one of the hotels might give us some great publicity.”
“Fuck, I love you, especially when you talk business to me.” His gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine.
“Nuh-uh… I don’t have time for phone sex. I’m running late as it is.” I bet he’s pouting on the other end of the phone.
“But I’m hard,” he moans.
“Then introduce your dick to your hand.”
He laughs. “I can’t wait till next week. Your pussy better be ready for me.”
“That’s my fucking sister you’re talking to, dickhead. Treat her like a lady,” my brother yells in the background. He’s obviously walked in on a conversation he was not supposed to hear.
“Urgh,” Noah groans. “My dick’s shriveled up now.”
“On that note… I have to run, babe. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
And with that, he’s gone.
* * *
I’m late. I hate being late as I rush toward the bar. I can see the group of ladies inside dressed to the nines. The doorman opens the door for me as I head on inside.
“Chloe.” Bethany’s the first to greet me.
Then I go around the table and say hi to everyone.
“You look amazing. New York suits you.” Bethany gives me a wink.
“Thank you.” I’m still unable to accept a compliment easily, but I attempt a smile.
“Can we get the elephant out of the room first,” Ciara starts. “We saw Walker’s TMZ interview, and we were all like what the fuck!” The other girls nod in agreement.
Okay, they’re hitting me with the hard stuff straight away.
“I might need to grab a drink first.” Feeling a little uncomfortable, I call over the waiter and order a margarita. “Not going to lie, the interview was troubling, but I think he was just letting off some steam.” Wishing my drink would hurry up, I shrug my shoulders.
“O.M.G. I was so scared for you,” Sherri adds.
“I have good security.” Giving them a wink, they quickly look around the room wondering where my security is, so I keep up the rouse.
“Your new man is hot.” Tiffani licks her over-inflated lips.
“He’s the best. I’m lucky to have him in my life.”
“He was your boss, wasn’t he?” Bethany asks.
“Yeah. But it wasn’t like that. We met ages ago before I got the job. So, it was a shock when I found out he was my new boss.” I’m not going into great details about how I really met Noah. I don’t feel all that comfortable with the group anymore. Maybe too much time has gone by, or maybe I’ve changed. I never thought I was the stereotypical WAG, but seeing the way they talk and dress now with fresh eyes, I really was embedded in that footballer’s wife life.
I’m so happy to be out of it now.
“And he’s rich,” Jenny adds, giving me a wink as if that were a job well done. I don’t care about Noah’s money, the same way I didn’t care about Walker’s.
“And you have access to all those beautiful resorts. Like hello… best catch, ever. Free holidays for life. Work it, bitch,” Ciara adds.
Her comment makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Finally, the waiter brings my drink over, and I quickly take a sip.
“So, what’s been happening with all of you guys?” Turning the question back onto them. Thankfully, they can talk about themselves for hours because that’s how long I’ve been stuck here talking about a whole heap of bullshit.
“Can you excuse me. I need the restroom.”
“Me, too,” Bethany adds. She links arms with me as we walk to the back of the bar. “You’re not having fun, are you?”
Her honest question shocks me. I thought I was hiding it well.
“Of course, I am.” My voice rising with the lie.
Bethany doesn’t look convinced. “I know those girls are a lot, but they mean well.” Feeling like a little bit of snob, I know she’s right. The girls are encased in this luxurious bubble, and they’re used to everyone looking like them, having the same interests. They spend their days getting plastic surgery and their nails done. That isn’t me. It was never me, even when I was in that world, but for some reason, now it irritates the hell out of me.
We do our business and come out again.
“Have one more drink, and then you can make your excuses and head off.” Bethany bumps my hip.
“I can’t stay long anyway, I’m off to Bali tomorrow for work.”
Bethany’s eyes widen, and she smiles. “Good for you. Don’t let those other bitches hear you say that. Their jealousy knows no bounds.”
“I’d love to catch up, one on one, next time you’re in town.”
I like Bethany. She’s different to the others. She’s self-made with her own beauty salons.
“I’d like that. We might be moving out here next season.”
“Wait! What?” Bethany puts her well-manicured nail up against her lips. “Like I said, they are a bunch of jealous bitches, and if they find out Scott’s signed with the Patriots, they will skin me alive.”
I pull her into a congratulatory hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. We’re over LA. Scott’s over Walker’s dramatics, too. They’ve gotten so bad, Chlo. He’s ruining the team.” This makes me sad because that team was my family for so many years.
“Well, keep me up to date with everything.” She gives me a genuine smile.
“Ready to face the sheep aga
in?” She makes me giggle as we walk back to the table.
* * *
“I didn’t have that many drinks,” I say, but my words begin to slur.
“Are you okay?” Bethany asks.
“She’s just drunk, Beth. Obviously can’t handle her liquor anymore,” someone says.
I feel hot.
Maybe I’m coming down with a fever.
“Let’s put her in an Uber and get her home. She needs to sleep it off,” another voice adds.
“I don’t want to be seen with her like a hot mess. Think of the press. She’s already a social pariah,” another voice adds.
What a bitch, whoever you are.
“What’s your address?” Bethany asks, and I mumble it off. “I’ll go home with her,” someone adds. “I’ll get her into bed. Make sure she’s okay then meet up with y’all later.” There’s mumbling, and then I’m moving, being shoved like a pinball from one person to another until I’m shoved into an Uber.
The foul-smelling seats filter through my nose.
Then we’re moving.
A hand is stroking my hair. My back.
“There, there, Chlo. You will feel better in the morning,” her voice soothes me as I fall asleep.
34
Noah
We’ve just sat down to dinner, and Anderson’s phone begins to ring. He excuses himself to take the call but is back moments later. His face is white when he calls my name.
I know that look.
No.
Something’s happened to Chloe.
No.
“Chloe’s missing.”
Two simple words, and my world comes crashing down, and here I am halfway across the fucking world.
No. No. No.
He has her.
That fucking bastard waited for me to be out of the country to grab her.
Fuck.
No. No.
I claw at my shirt—my collar feels like it’s strangling me. I have to go. I can’t be here, not when that madman has his hands on her, doing God only knows what. Fuck. She’s mine. He better not have touched a hair on her head. Otherwise, I will fucking kill him and do it fucking slowly.
“Where the fuck is, she?” EJ’s yells. “This can’t be happening.”
“I have to go. I need to get on the next flight home. We’re so fucking far away. Fuck. We need to find her. He has her.” I’m tearing my hair out as I speak.
“I’m organizing a private jet. We’ll get her back,” Logan tells me.
Stella’s on the phone, tears streaming down her cheeks.
No, this can’t be happening.
“Where the fuck is my sister?” EJ grabs Anderson. “Where is she?”
Picking up my phone, I try Chloe’s number. Come on, baby, pick up, pick up. Her cell rings out. Shit. I try our home phone. Please, pick up, pick up. Nothing. It rings out. My heart’s constricting. This can’t be happening right now.
“Where is her fucking security team?” EJ screams.
Stella tries to calm him down, but he won’t have any of it.
“This is your fault.” He points his finger at me. “You stopped her damn security. She thought she was safe. You threw her to the fucking wolves, you bastard.”
“EJ,” Logan yells at him. “This isn’t his fault. She wasn’t in danger. For months they monitored her, and nothing happened.”
“Fuck,” EJ screams through the restaurant.
“We need to get out of here.” I don’t need someone leaking any of this to the press before we know what’s going on.
“Jackson’s tracing her calls, trying to pinpoint her cell phone,” Anderson explains to us as we pile into the limousine and head to the hotel.
I just keep trying her phone over and over again.
Where the hell is she?
Where would he have taken her?
“They are fueling up the jet as we speak. We will be back in New York in nineteen hours,” Logan tries to reassure me.
That’s too long.
He could have done anything to her in that amount of time.
“It’s not Walker,” Anderson states, and the limousine turns silent. “One of Jackson’s security men physically has eyes on him. He’s in LA.”
My stomach turns inside out, and I think I’m going to be physically sick.
If Walker hasn’t taken her, then who the fuck has? Shit.
“Who the fuck would want to do Chloe harm?” EJ shakes in his seat. “She’s a fucking good person. She has no enemies.”
“They’ll find her,” Stella tries to reassure him.
“If Walker had her, we would know where she was and be able to get her back. But this… this is like searching for a needle in a massive haystack.”
“Snap the fuck out of it,” Stella yells at EJ. “Don’t think like that. If you want to put negative thoughts out into the universe, then you can fuck off. Chloe doesn’t need that out there. She needs us to think. She needs us to work this out to fucking save her.” Stella breaks down.
EJ pulls her to him as he apologizes for his comments.
Stella’s right, though. We do need to sort this out quickly because every hour that she isn’t found, her chances lessen. But she’s a fucking fighter, my girl. She isn’t going to give up, and neither are we.
“Emma’s broken into both of your apartments. Sorry, I owe you a couple of new windows.”
I don’t give two shits about that at this moment.
“It doesn’t look like she came home last night. Nothing’s been touched,” Anderson relays the bad news.
“Fuck!” I scream while tears roll down my cheeks.
Where are you, baby?
Who the hell has you?
Fight for me.
I’m coming. I’m coming.
Two hours later, and we are up and on our way back to New York, all of us frantically calling anyone and everyone we know.
Ariana is talking to the police—she has a friend in the force who’s helping.
Jackson has hacked Chloe’s phone.
He found the messages from Bethany about drinks, and we gave her a call. She’s devastated when we tell her the news. She then begins to blame herself for not being the one who took her home last night. She told us she thought it was strange that all of a sudden Chloe’s drinks hit her all at once—she was acting sober then all of a sudden, her speech started to slur, she was hot, and she couldn’t move. Bethany thought Chloe was a lightweight. The group decided to put Chloe in an Uber and send her home. That fucking Uber driver better not have touched her. But then Bethany tells us that Ciara went home with her.
Thank fuck she wasn’t alone.
Does that mean Ciara is missing too?
We ask Bethany to find Ciara for us, which she does. While we wait for her to get back to us, Jackson begins to hack Bethany’s phone. She calls us back, saying that no one can get in touch with Ciara, and she’s not answering her door.
Bethany hands over Ciara’s number and Jackson begins trying to hack into her phone. Maybe hers can tell us where Chloe is. An hour later Jackson is in Bethany’s phone, but he doesn’t find anything related to Chloe other than a text from Bethany last night asking Chloe to call her in the morning, so she knows she made her flight on time. She even set an alarm to wake up and check on her. So, she was concerned over Chloe last night.
Ariana had passed on the information about Ciara being the one to take her home. The police are off paying her a visit. Hopefully, there are clues there.
Eventually, Ariana calls back and lets us know that Ciara was found safe and sound in her hotel room. She said she left Chloe at her home at 11:20 p.m. last night. That she then jumped in an Uber and met up with some of the girls to continue partying.
The police check out her story with the Uber company, and they provide video evidence that she did indeed get into the Uber at that time.
Fuck! I’m stuck in this stupid jet halfway over the Pacific, and I can do fucking squat.
Please, baby, han
g on.
I’m coming.
* * *
Hours later, Jackson calls with some news. He’s been able to get into Ciara’s phone, and he’s found some evidence that suggests she isn’t that innocent after all. She’s been texting an unknown number letting them know Chloe had arrived. That she had put drugs in her drinks.
Fuck, I’m going to kill this girl.
Who the fuck drugs another woman?
It also said that she dropped her home and left the door unlocked for them.
My stomach lurches, and I rush to the bathroom where its contents fill the bowl.
No. This can’t be happening.
This seriously cannot be happening.
Not when I’ve finally found her.
“You okay?” Logan checks in on me.
“No, I’m fucking not,” I say as I’m slumped on the jet’s bathroom floor.
“We’re going to find her,” he tries to reassure me.
“She’s my everything, Logan. I was going to ask her to marry me in Bali.”
Logan sits beside me. “You’re going to get that chance. I promise you.”
I’m not a praying man, but at this moment, I’m asking for divine intervention. I want Chloe back and unharmed.
“I can’t lose her, Logan.” He pulls me into his arms as I break down. If we get through this, no, when we get through this, I’m never letting Chloe out of my sight ever again. She is my everything. My heart. My soul. My future. My end.
Finally, we land in New York and head straight to my townhouse. We’re going to retrace Chloe’s steps until Jackson can uncover more. Arriving at the townhouses to police tape and a media frenzy, I jump out of the car and barrel toward an officer.
“Hold up there, sir. This is a crime scene,” the young guy says to me.
“I know. It’s my fucking girlfriend who’s missing, and that’s my house.” Confusion falls across his face as a plainclothes detective walks over to me.
