by Low, JA
“Mr. Stone, I’m Detective Smith Johnson,” the stony-faced detective greets me. “I’m a friend of Ariana’s,” he elaborates.
Thank God someone’s on our side.
“Any news?” Hope bubbles to the surface as I await his answer.
“Let’s talk inside.” Pulling the police tape to the side for us, we follow in after him. “This is your house, but please sit,” the detective tells us.
“Andy.” Emma rushes out from the hallway.
“Baby.” Anderson rushes to her, pulling her into his arms as Emma breaks down.
If I weren’t so damn devastated, I’d be happy for them.
“I’m going to be real honest with you, detective. I’m going to find her no matter the cost, no matter the way.”
He nods his head in understanding and leans forward so only I can hear him.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just told me. What I don’t know, I can’t pull you in for. Understand? Make sure whatever you do will stand up against prosecution in a court of law.” He’s getting his point across. “Now, what we know at the moment is that Chloe was brought home by Ciara. There’s security footage across the street showing the Uber pulling up to the sidewalk, and Ciara helping an unsteady Chloe inside. They go through the front door, and about ten minutes later, Ciara walks back out of your home by herself and into a waiting Uber.”
What the fuck.
“We know she’s working with someone. We have her telephone records where she texted whoever Chloe’s kidnapper is, saying she put drugs in her drink and that she left the townhouse unlocked for them.”
The detective’s eyes widen—this is obviously news to him.
“I’ll get someone to look more carefully at the bar’s camera footage, checking for the moment she places the drug in her drink. We have to find the evidence to get her to talk. But this is a great lead,” he tells us as he furiously types away on his phone.
“We’re trying to work out who the unknown number belongs to.”
The detective nods his head as he continues to type. “Do you have any enemies, Mr. Stone. You’re a very powerful man in this town.”
“We are honest men,” Logan interrupts. “We do business by the book.”
“I wasn’t saying you weren’t, but I’ve seen people seek revenge for the smallest indiscretion.” He opens a notebook. “Who do you think you may have angered?”
The door opens, and in walks Ariana and Lenna, their eyes are red raw from crying, and they look exhausted as if they have canvased the streets all day.
“Lenna?” Logan says her name, which surprises him.
“I’m so sorry, Noah.” She comes over and gives me a hug, which I appreciate.
“Logan.” She turns to him. He stands and awkwardly pulls her into him arms. The detective’s eyes follow Ariana around the room. Chloe would totally be picking up on that if she were here. Where the hell are you? My heart constricts in my chest, not knowing if she’s safe.
“We just came back from searching Chloe’s office, sorry about that,” Ariana confesses to us.
“No. You do what you have to do,” I tell her. “No stone should be left unturned. And?” I ask.
“Nothing. She hasn’t had any suspicious emails, phone calls. Nothing.”
Fuck.
“Do you think this could have been a random attack? A robbery gone wrong?” I ask the detective.
“If what you’re saying about Ciara is true, then no, this was premeditated. We just don’t know who it could be. Who does Ciara and Chloe have in common?”
“Walker,” EJ states.
The detective writes that down.
“No. He’s in LA. We checked him out. Unless he has a twin we don’t know about.”
“I might have my fellow officers pay him a visit anyway. He could have hired someone. You know, not to get his hands dirty. I’ve seen the TMZ interview,” the detective tells us.
“Tracey!” Emma blurts out.
“No. She wouldn’t,” Ariana adds.
“Really? We didn’t think she would get knocked up by Walker, but she did.”
Why would Tracey harm Chloe? They’re family. I think it’s a big leap from sleeping with her best friend’s fiancé to kidnapping her.
“We will check her alibi out.”
“Tracey’s friends with Ciara,” Stella advises us. “I’ve just looked up their Instagram and found photos of them together.”
“You fucking superstar.” EJ grabs her face and kisses her. “Um. I…” He runs his hand through his hair.
“We both want Chloe home safely,” Stella tells EJ, thwarting their awkwardness.
“Noah. I promise you… we are going to find her. And when we do, I am going to make sure whoever’s behind this is put away for a very long time,” the detective tries to assure me.
I’m just worried that time is running out for her.
35
Chloe
Urgh, my head hurts, so I rub my throbbing temple. A chill slides over my body as I try and push open my heavy lids. My stomach churns, and I struggle to keep the contents down. Finally opening my eyes, I jump back in surprise as darkness surrounds me.
Where the hell am I? There’s a slight slither of light coming in through a high window, highlighting the room. Where am I? My brain’s foggy. I try and push through the fog, but it hurts.
Fear grips me as reality dawns that I’m not at home. That I’m not on my way to Bali. That I’m in a potentially dangerous position.
My first thought is to scream for help, but something inside stops me. Whoever has me must still think I’m still knocked out from whatever they gave me. My heart accelerates as I attempt to work out how to get the hell out of here.
The sounds of the waves crashing filters through into the room.
Think, Chloe, think.
You’re near the ocean.
I look around my darkened cell again, which looks like I’m in some underground basement. Maybe it’s a cellar. The light filtering through the tiny window is my first clue. Grabbing some old crates, I place them under the window and step on them to then peer through the tiny sliver available to me. I can see sand dunes, the crystal blue ocean, and seagrass in front of me.
Definitely on the coast somewhere.
Think, Chloe, think.
I’m trying to wrack my foggy brain.
Where’s the coast that’s closest to New York? Long Beach, The Hamptons, maybe I’m further south like Seaside Heights.
Urgh. I squint my eyes and try to see if I can register anything which might be familiar to me. Nothing. I try to push open the tiny window, and it gives a little letting in some fresh air. But the window is so small it’s only enough for me to push my hand through, nothing more. So, it’s hardly an escape route.
Claustrophobia takes over as I begin to hyperventilate.
You’ve got to keep it together, Chloe, to survive. You need to get home to Noah.
Fuck! Noah.
He’s halfway across the world and has no idea I’m missing. Or does he?
I have no idea what the time is. I mean, I’m assuming I’ve missed my flight to Bali, so that will raise alarms. Frantically, I start searching the basement for my phone. After searching for a couple of minutes, I realize they wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave my phone with me, not when they have gone to such lengths to capture me.
Slumping on the floor, I try and retrace last night’s steps in my mind.
Everything was fine until I got back from the bathroom. I finished the last of my drink and declined another. Hazy memories pop back through my mind reminding me my drink tasted bitter, and I ignored it, thinking it was just the lime.
Obviously, they put something into my drink because everything went foggy after that.
Thumping my fists against the rocky floor, I try to think. Who would do this to me? Realization kicks in. Is this Walker? Would he seriously kidnap me?
I know I thought Noah’s concerns seemed far-fetc
hed. Now, not so much. Fuck! Banging my head against the brick wall, I internally scream as hopelessness surrounds me and tears begin to fall down my cheeks.
How long is he going to keep me here?
What are his plans?
Is he going to kill me?
“Noah, please find me. Please,” I whisper as I collapse on the floor in a flood of tears.
I must pass out for a little while until a robotic voice bellows through the basement, waking me up.
“Wake up, bitch.” The voice echoes through the room and through my brain as well. “Glad to see you’re finally awake.”
Now I am scared. The room must be bugged, how else can they see me.
“Had a bit of a rough night last night, Chloe?”
They know my name. I shuffle back and cling to the wall behind me as I try and work out where the hell the microphone and camera are located.
“You’re such a sloppy drunk.”
“Who are you?” I scream into the darkness.
The robotic voice simply laughs at my question.
“You don’t need to know who I am… just yet. All will be revealed soon.”
That sounds an awful lot like a threat. Then the voice is gone.
I scream my lungs out, feeling frustrated and scared at the situation I find myself in. Whoever has me is going to kill me, I can feel it in my bones. I have to get out of here. But first, I must find and rip down that fucking camera and mic. I search every single corner of the basement until I find the camera disguised as a rock and pull the fucking thing apart.
“Wrong move, Chloe.” The robotic voice echoes through the room as a little doggy door opens, and a cannister is thrown inside the basement.
The room quickly becomes foggy, and then there’s nothing but darkness.
36
Noah
We’ve been in New York for twenty-four hours, and we’re still no closer to finding Chloe. I’m genuinely starting to panic because the longer she’s missing, the less chance we’ll have to find her alive. Jackson’s been working day and night trying to hack the unknown number. He’s getting closer, but still nothing so far. The detective has flown some of his men to LA to confront Walker and Ciara, who mysteriously hightailed it out of New York, and we’re waiting for his call at any moment to tell us what’s going on.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I scream, pacing around the living room.
“We’re looking at every possibility, Noah. Jackson has a huge team working on this for us. We want to find Chloe, too, but we have nothing to go on,” Anderson tells me.
“You seriously think Tracey would do this?” Because that’s where everything is starting to point to.
“The night before Chloe’s wedding, the underhanded venom she was shooting toward Chloe shocked me. Those two were as close as two non-blood relatives could be,” Ariana explains. “So, Tracey cheating with Walker wasn’t that much of a surprise. Especially the way Tracey was acting just before Chloe busted them.”
“She was jealous of Chloe. It was subtle, never enough to alarm you, but enough for it to register. If that makes sense,” Emma adds.
“Chloe was popular in school. She was beautiful, intelligent, friendly, and everyone loved her. She had loads of friends and was a good girl. Whereas Tracey was standoffish, aloof, and a bitch. She liked to cause trouble. She wanted people’s attention, and she got off on it. Especially male,” EJ adds. “Tracey had a reputation at school as a good-time girl. She used her looks and sexual skills to lure anyone she wanted. And to randy adolescent boys, she was a god. But she was trouble. She would go crazy if the guy left her for another girl. She hated to lose. She hated that she was only popular because she spread her legs. It seemed like she was always searching for more.”
Now I am becoming worried.
Tracey sounds batshit crazy.
“You think she would harm, Chloe?” I’m asking the question I don’t want to hear the answer to.
“Tracey hated all the girls at school except Chloe. I don’t know why, but they just got on. And it wasn’t because our parents were best friends and we were stuck with her. Chloe would always stick up for Tracey. She had her back no matter what because she was a loyal friend to her. I never heard any stories about Tracey screwing Chloe over like she did with Walker, but I had heard her doing it to their other friends. Tracey loved Chloe in her own weird way,” EJ tells me.
“I think she snapped over what Walker said,” Emma states. “I know we all freaked out over the threat we thought he was giving. But if you play it again, and listen to his words like I’m sure Tracey would have done, you can clearly hear that after everything, Walker still loves Chloe.”
The room falls silent.
“Shit.” Jumping up from my chair. “You’re right, Ems. Fuck. What do we do?”
Suddenly, my phone rings, and it’s Jackson.
“What have you got?” I put him on speaker.
“I still have no idea who the unknown number is, but the last known ping from the cell phone was in Montauk.”
Everyone around me jumps into action, grabbing stuff. Looks like we’re going on a road trip.
Hang in there, Chloe, we are coming for you.
“Also, Walker borrowed a plane. We’ve only just picked that up, and the flight log has him flying to East Hampton. He should be there now.”
Fuck.
“We’ll take a chopper, Noah. We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Logan tells me as he rushes away with his phone to his ear.
I follow the rest of them into a town car, taking us hopefully to the heliport.
“Also, Walker has a house in Montauk. He recently purchased it last month.”
Shit! I punch the seat in front of me.
“My bet is she’s there. I’m sending over the address now.” I hang up, and my phone beeps, and I look down at the address before me.
I’m so fucking close, baby.
Hang on.
Hang on.
We arrive at the heliport on the Hudson, and just as I’m about to jump aboard, my phone rings, and it’s the detective.
“We believe it’s Tracey who’s kidnapped her.”
“I know,” I tell him. “We’re on our way to get her. Walker has a house in Montauk. We think she’s there.”
“What the fuck. No, Noah. Give me the address, and I will send the police.”
“I’ll send you the address, but I’m going. I’ve just stepped into the helicopter. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
The detective curses down the phone at me, “Don’t be fucking stupid. Let the police go in. She could be armed and dangerous. You have no idea what’s going through her mind at this moment, especially if she’s cornered. She kidnapped her, for fuck’s sake, she could do anything.”
I hesitate stepping onboard hearing the detective’s warning.
“Noah. I can have a team assembled in ten minutes. They will get there before you. Send me the address.”
“Fine.” I pull the phone away from my ear and forward the address to him. “Do it. There will be a chopper waiting for you. Get here now.” He agrees, and I hang up jumping onboard.
“What’s going on?” Logan asks.
“The detective is sending local backup to the house. He’s worried for Chloe’s safety. He believes Tracey’s unhinged and us going in there could get her killed.”
Logan curses.
37
Chloe
Fucking hell. Groaning as I try to sit up, but I can’t. I move my arms because something seems to be holding them down. Then I’m drenched in freezing cold water.
“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.”
A shiver rolls down my body from the icy water. Shaking the droplets from my face, my eyes widen when I see who’s standing in front of me with a bucket in her hand.
“Tracey?”
“That’s right, bitch.” Dropping the bucket to the floor, the loud clang echoes through the room. Ever so subtly, I look around me. Looks li
ke I’m in the living room of a luxury home somewhere, and I can see the beach behind Tracey.
“Why?” It’s the only question I have for her. I don’t understand why she hates me so much to do this to me.
“Why? Why?” She manically laughs.
Then I see the sun glisten off something in her hand.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She has a gun.
No. No. No.
Testing my restraints, I try hard to get loose, but I’m tied to a chair by my arms and legs. There’s no escaping. I’m at her mercy.
“Because after everything I have given Walker, he still wants you.” The gun moves from her hip and is pointed directly at me.
No. No. No.
“I don’t want Walker. He’s all yours. I’m in love with Noah.”
Tracey’s eyes narrow at me. “You’re in love?” she sneers. “You find it so fucking easy moving on from one guy to another. They just keep falling at your fucking feet. Wonder if I can turn Noah’s head like I did Walker’s.” She laughs.
Oh God, the thought of her touching Noah has me Hulking out against my restraints, which makes her laugh even more.
“Sweetie, don’t you remember those lessons on Shibari that I did? The art of Japanese rope bondage. You have to keep the spice in the bedroom going. I mean…” she chuckles, “… let’s be serious. Men don’t want to fuck good girls. Good girls are boring.” She waves the silvery gun around in her hand, and honestly, it scares the living daylights out of me. “Why do you think Walker was so easy to take.” She smirks.
Keep her talking, Chloe, that’s what they always say in the movies.
“I always wanted to know how you did it?”
Tracey wants to gloat, she wants to tell you just how easy it was to fuck your fiancé, so you’re going to let her. It will give you more time.
“You really want to know, Chloe?” She’s almost glowing with glee.
“Yes.”
She jumps up onto the kitchen countertop and places the gun beside her before she starts talking, “Oh, it was so easy. I mean, I was always at your place while you were at work. It started out slowly, a little flirtation here and a little flirtation there. Once I knew his schedule, I made sure I was always around when he came back to your place to freshen up. I made sure I had my skimpiest bikini on as I cleaned the pool. Pretended I was shocked he’d found me like that.”
