Jake’s. Kipley and Levi fighting. He ran out, and I followed. I was standing by my car. Braydon—
“Ahhh…she’s starting to remember. I watched what he did to you. He should have never treated you that way. The things he did to you at work. The disrespect. You should be cherished, not taken advantage of in an office like some whore.” He whirls around and starts pacing again, taking the knife and stabbing at the air.
I need to catch my breath. Calm the rapid beats of my heart and find a way to rationalize with him, which is hard because I’m seconds away from hyperventilating. “I’m sure if you untie me, we can talk about—”
He waves his knife around, his eyes manic. “And have you run away from me? Not a chance.” He walks over to the dresser, leaning forward to observe the framed photos. My body jolts when his hand shoots forward, swiping the frames to the ground. It’s in that moment I take note of the people in those photos. My stomach threatens to expel everything boiling inside it. More observing around the room confirms my grave assumption. I’m in Clara Hill’s home.
“Bray—ayden…” My voice shakes. “Why are we in Clara’s bedroom? Where’s Clara?”
He stands straighter, pivots on his heel, and walks toward the bed. His dilated pupils narrow into crinkled slits, and he bends down. The hairs on my arms stand as his eyes close and he inhales a big breath, smelling me. He quickly pulls back, shaking his head as if he just took a hit of his favorite drug. “You know why,” he says, averting his eyes from mine, tracing the lining of my shirt. “You should have let it be, Hannah.”
I can’t decipher his cryptic words. Why am I here? Where is Clara! How did I not notice this side of him? Never once did I recognize any red flags. Holy shit, Braydon is a psychopath. Calm down, Hannah. I need to focus. Rerouting my tactics, I take in a deep breath. “Listen. I agree. Thank you for noticing. I honestly never knew you felt this way about me. I—I wish I’d known.”
His eyes, carrying a mixture of shock and anger, pierce into mine, searching for truth or lies. “You do like me?”
I nod furiously. “Yes! Of course! How could I not? That’s why I spent so much time with you. I thought it was you who didn’t like me.”
His lips crest into a hopeful smile, then curl down. “Is that why you turned to him?”
Levi.
“Yeah. Yes! I was so hurt, I only pretended to like him because I wanted to make you…um…jealous. How immature of me.” I pray he eats the lies I’m feeding him. He starts rocking back and forth on his heel, tapping the knife against his thigh. A lackluster smile appears, and hope surges inside my belly. “Please untie me. If you say you really like me and I like you, we can talk this out. I never thought you would feel this way about me. I’ve dreamed…hoped…” The words burn my throat like acid. I push away my real thoughts, expelling a deep breath, and conjure up fake tears. “I can’t believe you did all this for me. Please, I need you to just hold me. Tell me we can have a future and see where this can go.”
The muscles in his face tighten, then transform into a toothy smile. He waves the knife in the air. “I knew you would see this the same way.” He points the knife in my direction. “You’re not gonna run or anything, right? If I untie you?”
“No! Of course not. I just want to be near you.” Please bite. Please bite. He contemplates my words, then nods eagerly and steps toward me. “Once everything settles down, we can get a place. I’ll have so much money, I can give you whatever you want. More than he could.” He bends forward, taking the knife and slicing through the ropes, releasing my hands. Pain radiates up my arms from being captive in that position for so long, and I groan. “There’s this great spot we can go eat. I’ve been wanting to take you there.” He moves down to cut my legs free. “You can meet my dad. He’s going to love you.” Once my legs are unbound, I sit up, but not too fast to alarm him. He’s showing no signs of hesitancy and helps me to stand. When our eyes meet, his are filled with optimism as he wraps his arms around me, bringing me in for a hug. I return the embrace, feeling him relax around me.
When he becomes too lax, I lift my knee and shove it as hard as I can into his balls. He howls, his arms twitching and releasing me. I turn on my heels and run, making it down the hallway before I hear his angry voice.
“Hannah!” Braydon yells, but I don’t stop. I race through the house until I make a quick right into the living room I visited sometime earlier. I’m halfway through the room, only mere feet away from the front door, when his hands latch around my neck and he barrels into me, throwing me to the ground. I scream in horror and pain. Both consume me when his knife slices into my side.
Levi
We pull up to Jake’s, and Kipley’s Tahoe is barely in park before we both jump out. The second I see her, I’m going to pull her into my arms and hold her until my uneasiness settles. Then I’m going to throttle her for giving everyone such a scare. On the quiet drive over here, I took the time to reflect on the last couple weeks, wishing I’d handled things differently, ashamed I ever suggested we keep our feelings for one another private. I should have been honest from the get-go with the case. I know better than anyone how resilient Hannah is. She would have stepped up and helped solve the problem with the strange occurrences. If anyone would have been able to, it would have been her.
Once I make sure she’s okay, I need to confess everything. How I feel. Where my intentions lie. I need her to know I fucking love her with every fiber of my being.
We enter through the front, and the smell of stale beer smacks me in the face, twisting my stomach. “Lunch doesn’t start ’til noon,” the bartender calls out as he wipes down the bar.
My eyes trail down the long bar in search of her. “Not here to eat. Looking for someone,” Kip says, his eyes skating around the freestanding pub tables.
“Unless it’s me, I can’t help you. I’m the only one here. Betty gets in at one.”
His words don’t register at first. They can’t because that means she’s not here. Time slows as my eyes scale the bar, refusing to believe she isn’t. Just look harder. She’s here. He just hasn’t noticed her yet. But who wouldn’t notice Hannah Matthews?
“Yeah, that can’t be. My sister’s phone was pinged here. She’s here.”
“No one’s been here since close of yesterday. Sorry, buddy. Maybe she left her phone here. Let me go check the lost and found.” He walks off into the backroom, and Kipley and I stand there frozen.
“Kip—”
“Don’t go there. There’s got to be an explanation for all this. Hannah’s not irresponsible like this.”
“Exactly. This is not like Hannah. Something’s wrong. Listen, the case, the witness she went to visit—”
“Sorry, no phones. Check the parking lots. Sometimes people drop them getting in their cars or taxis.”
Her car. Kipley said it was left here. We both push past the exit and spot her car in the back of the lot. I hit the ground in a sprint with Kip right beside me. When I get to her car, I halt, realizing I’m holding my breath. I stall as Kip leans forward and pulls on the handle. It’s unlocked.
My chest constricts. Hannah would never leave her car unlocked.
Kip opens the door and leans in, then pops back out. “Nothing looks stolen or out of place.” His cell rings, and he withdraws it from his back pocket. “Dad…yeah, she’s not here. Hasn’t been. Not sure. We’re at her car right now.”
It’s then I spot it.
I bend down, extending my hand to reach behind her front tire. When I stand with her phone in my grip, my stomach bottoms out and I struggle against throwing up. “Call the police,” I whisper, refusing to believe what I’m asking. My mind is spinning, and I can’t keep up with all the tell-tale signs I should have seen from the moment she went unaccounted for.
“Someone got to Clara Hill.”
“She has to have been threatened. There’s no other explanation. We can’t let this happen. She has to testify.”
“I went to see Clara Hill. I go
t her testimony. The Millers did get to her. Threatened her son. I told her we’d protect her.”
“Hannah! That puts you in fucking danger!”
“We need to call the fucking police!” I roar, finally finding my voice, reliving the conversation we had. If Clara was being threatened, Hannah going to see her put her right in harm’s way. I grip tightly at my hair, dread crushing my chest. “We need…shit…we need…” I can’t breathe.
Someone got to Clara Hill.
Someone got to Clara Hill.
“They fucking did something to her. He fucking has her!” I grab at my chest, my lungs feeling as if they’re filling with cement, the gravity of the situation choking me. “Kip, your dad. The case…they got to her…”
Hannah
“No, no, no…” Braydon jumps off me, but I’m paralyzed on the floor. Fire shoots from my side, blinding whiteness in my vision at the pain exploding in my side. “No, no, no, NO!” he yells, losing his mind.
“Braydon, call 9-1-1,” I cry out. I’m afraid to move. My ribs spasm with every breath, and I’m not sure if the knife is still jammed in my back. “Braydon, please, you have to call for help.”
“No, I can’t!” He begins pacing around me. “Fuck, why did you run! You said you weren’t going to run!”
“Braydon, please. I’m hurt really bad.” I start to cry. I can’t assess how severe the cut is, but it hurts. I twist my head over my shoulder to assess my wound and see blood. “Braydon, if you don’t get me to a hospital, I could die.” This sends him into a complete panic.
“No, you’ll be fine. I’ll just call my dad. He’ll fix everything. He always does.”
The wound in my side throbs. “Unless your dad is a doctor, we need a hospital.” Oh my god, I’m going to die here. I can’t stop the dreadful sobs. I’ve tried to stay strong long enough.
“No, don’t cry. It will all be okay, I promise.”
“How!” I yell, regretting the force, wincing in pain. “You stabbed me. Don’t let me die here.”
He’s suddenly on the floor, kneeling next to me. “You won’t. I’ll fix this and we’ll be together.” He rips his phone from his pocket and dials a number. A deep voice sounds on the other end. “Dad? I fucked up…”
Levi
My lips are moving a mile a minute, trying to explain my theory. I doubt I’m even making sense. It takes Kip’s rough grip to stop my tirade. “Man, you have to calm down. I don’t understand what you’re saying. Who’s Clara? Why would she hurt my sister?”
Jim pulls up and jumps out of his car, rushing over to us. “Any news?”
Kipley shakes his head, his eyes creased. “No, we’re still waiting on the police to arrive.”
“Where’s Hannah’s phone? Give it to me.”
“It’s dead,” I say, handing it over. Jim doesn’t say another word and stalks back over to his vehicle to plug her phone into his charger.
The cop finally arrives. He takes his time climbing out of his car, and I explode. “What took you so fucking long?” I get in his face, but Kipley sticks his hand out and pulls me back. “Is this how fast you move with every missing person call?”
The officer doesn’t appreciate my tone, taking a stiff stance in front of me. “Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down—”
“Calm down? I’m not going to calm down! My girlfriend is missing.”
The sun is hotter than usual for July. “Why does it have to be so hot?” I gripe, smoothing my frizzy hair down. I spent all morning trying to make it look nice because Kipley was having his friends over to swim in our pool. Too bad five seconds outside and it’s back to resembling Einstein on his worst day. My feet skip from side to side, debating on going over there. Mom bought me a new tinted Chapstick, and I want to show it off. It makes me look older, like the girls Kipley hangs out with. Ben tosses his shirt to the side and jumps in while Chase pushes my brother in. Laughter fills the backyard, and I can almost feel the burst of coolness on my skin as the water spreads and they disappear underneath.
The moment my eyes drift away from the water to him, an inferno of heat blasts through me. I feel like I’m on fire watching as his smile burns into my memory. His stance is casual and laid back as he lifts his shirt over his head, exposing his tan, muscular stomach. I swallow, my throat dry, as he tosses his shirt onto the lawn chair and takes an impressive dive into the pool.
I skip across the lawn, throwing my pink towel on the chair next to his shirt, and make myself comfortable. It’s my pool too. Kip waves at me, and I wave back, ignoring the noises Chase makes at me. I adjust my chair and press my sunglasses up my nose, pretending to read a magazine. My young mind wanders, and I imagine I’m in the pool, laughing along with them. I can’t reach the bottom, so Levi comes and scoops me up, carrying me in his arms as we float in the water. His laughter is meant for me, and his eyes stare into mine, silently telling me he knows we’re soulmates and he can’t wait to marry me one day.
“Hannah, you need sunblock. You’re starting to burn.” I don’t realize I’d dozed off until Levi’s large frame blocks the sun as he leans over me. “Here, give me your sunblock. I’ll get your back.” His willingness creates a tornado of butterflies in my belly. I hand him the bottle and turn to offer him my back.
“You’re burning up,” he says, his hands feeling like fire against my skin. “You’re burning up, Hannah,” he says again, and I groan under his tortured touch. His hands start to sizzle against my skin, and I howl out in pain.
“Jesus, there you are! You passed out on me for a minute.”
It hurts.
Everything hurts.
The faint memory of that day at the pool evaporates into the back of my mind as reality settles in. Levi’s hands disappear, Braydon’s in their place. He presses his hand to the side of my ribs, and I scream out in pain.
“I know it hurts. My dad is on his way. I had to put a bandage on to help stop the bleeding, and you passed out on me. We can’t have you dying. I won’t let you.”
My eyes fill with dread as tears pour over. My lower lip quivers with doubt. “Braydon, I need more than your dad. I need a hospital.” The fact that I’m still alive gives me some hope that he didn’t puncture anything major, but the severe dizziness confirms I’m losing a lot of blood. I can’t gauge how much longer I can fight this. “Please, call 9-1—”
“No! I told you I can’t do that.” He becomes agitated, pressing too hard on my wound. I yelp, blinded by the pain. “Shit!” he eases up and falls back against the couch, sitting on the floor next to me. His hands rub over his face, smearing my blood down his cheek. “This is all his fault. I should have convinced you to leave with me sooner. Not allowed him to get in your head. Then you wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t have hurt you.”
He’s still talking about Levi. “Levi didn’t do this to me, Braydon, you did. If you want to make it up to me, help me. Call someone.”
His head shakes back and forth furiously. “No. I told you. I can’t. I’ve gotten this far, I won’t ruin everything I’ve worked for. You’ll be fine. Just…be patient.” He kicks his legs out to stand. Pacing the room, my eyes catch something or someone lying between the living room and kitchen. My heart sinks at the familiar floral dress I saw Clara in some time earlier.
“Oh my god, Braydon. What have you done? Is…is…did you kill Clara?”
Braydon stalls, his back to me as he stares off at Clara’s lifeless body. “You should have never come here, Hannah. Everything was set in place. She was handled. But you had to stick your nose in it and couldn’t let it go. The case was closed. Dead in the water. You should have let it be!” The last of his words are hissed in a raised, angry tone.
He rears his leg back and thrusts forward, kicking Clara’s body. I scream, the movement tearing at my wound. My stomach clenches. Before I can expel the sourness burning inside my stomach, I lose consciousness again.
Levi
I eat up the ground beneath my feet from pacing back and forth. We have
zero leads. The cops don’t know shit and are fucking useless. They just keep asking us the same damn questions, as if we took her. The douchebag cop who first arrived keeps threatening to arrest me if I don’t calm down, so I’ve pulled myself away to try to do just that. I explained as best as possible my theory about the case and how it links with Hannah’s disappearance. Since Crete is out of their jurisdiction, they put in a call to the local law enforcement department over there requesting a wellness visit for Clara Hill. That was over an hour ago. And still nothing.
I gaze over at Kip, who’s beside himself with worry. The severity of this is starting to set in for us all. Jim has been on his phone calling in every favor he has, pleading with anyone who can offer him assistance in finding his little girl. It’s impossible, even at a time like this not to admire his endless love for his daughter. The way he’s always held her to such a high standard.
“And that’s why, when I grow up, I’m going to become the first woman President of the United States of America.” Mr. Matthews claps his hands, loud and proud, as Kip’s little sister jumps off the coffee table. She walks past me, and I swear the little kid winks at me.
“Isn’t she truly something?” Mr. Matthews says, watching his daughter bow in front of Kip, then skip off into the kitchen. Something is right. A little wild, if you ask me. “Only seven years old and already destined for great things. She’s already reading my old law school textbooks. Cheryl gives me slack for letting her. Says she should be reading books written for her age range. Barbies and all, but she’s an old soul this one. Already wants to debate law cases with me.” His hand falls to his chest as he chuckles. “She’s such a spirited child. I can’t wait to see what she becomes. She’s gonna make one man very happy one day.”
I was fifteen at the time of that memory. Didn’t put a second thought past his words letting me know his daughter was something special. Spending a lot of time with Jim growing up, I listened to him talk about Hannah often. How honored he was to be her dad. How her wanting to follow in his footsteps made him so proud. From awards, recognitions, Dean’s list to scholarships—she hit all the marks. She was, as he always said, making a strong path for herself. It was in those small chats I would dig for any memory of Hannah, ones of her not trying to annoy us or make a scene. She was always scurried away by Kip or chased away by Chase. There was never a moment that crossed my mind that one day she truly would be magnificent. In all facets. As I stand, watching the worry in his eyes, I wonder what my young, fifteen-year-old self would say if he knew years later, it would be me pining over his magnificent daughter, hoping she chooses to make me a happy man.
Chicks, Man Page 21
