Evan (Novella): 3.5 (A Carter Brother Series) (11 page)

“Is she in pain?’’ I whisper, my heart hurting for her.

“We’ve made her comfortable,’’ the doctor answers from the end of Kennedy’s bed.

Not caring who sees me, I sob into my hands, my head cast down feeling defeated. I let this happen. I should have been there for her. I should have let her drive my piece of shit car knowing I only needed to get to our building block. I should have done a lot of this differently this morning but my biggest regret was not telling Kennedy that I love her. In only a week, I’ve given the woman my heart and my soul. I’d die for her.

Why the fuck is this happening? She’s a good person. She deserves a long, full, happy life. She doesn’t deserve the life she’s been given, not at all. It’s unfair.

Standing up I walk to the edge of the bed, my anger simmering to boiling point when I see her close up. Taking her delicate hand in mine I silently promise her to make all this right. Pulling away, my hands clench into fists and my jaw locks.

“Mate, you need to keep it together for a little while longer,’’ Harris demands, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I look up at him knowing that he’s right. There’s no point in me standing around feeling angry and waiting for the doctors to tell me something when I have my little girl to find. And I know when Kennedy wakes up to find Imogen still missing, with me at her bed side, she will hate me forever. I can’t have that.

“Doc, I need you to do me a favour. I know you’re busy but our daughter, she’s been kidnapped. It’s how Kennedy got into an accident. I need to go find our little girl, but I don’t like leaving her alone. Can you call me on this number if there are any changes, please?’’ I ask handing him my card. “Any at all, no matter how small.’’

He walks over towards me with a serious expression. Patting me on the shoulders he answers, “Of course. I have a few other patients that I need to see, but I will keep you updated.’’

“Thank you.’’ I whisper, feeling gratitude.

Walking back over to Kennedy my heart starts to beat frantically at seeing her. Her face is pale, bruises and cuts marking her face. I bend down, my lips to her ear before whispering, “I’ll find her, I promise. Just make sure you fight and be awake when we get back. I love you, Kennedy.’’ I lift my head, giving her a soft kiss on the lips before leaving. Harris falls in step behind me without question. He hasn’t asked any questions at all. He’s blindly followed me around just looking out for me and waiting for my word. I’m guessing he’s caught on to what’s going on, though, and that’s why he hasn’t asked questions.

“What’s the plan?’’ he asks once we’re in the car, asking the first question since I listened to Kennedy’s voicemail.

“No plan. I find him and I make him pay.’’

From the look on Harris’ face he’s not so down with the idea. His brain is practically running wild on how to stop me from doing stupid. Whatever he’s thinking it won’t work. I’m determined to find that fucker and make him pay.

Back at the bungalow I waste no time in rushing through the door, not shutting it behind me. Harris is on the phone barking orders at people. We had put a self-employed contractor on Damon, wanting to catch him in the act when he next did something, but for some reason the bloke decided to take the day off. Today of all fucking days.

I don’t care who the fuck is out on a job. I want everyone I know on this one. I need to get my girl home. Getting her back home to her mother, back to me is my main priority.

Papers are scattered all over the floor in the front and for once I’m glad I won the argument with Kennedy over keeping them here. Not having the room in my office I had to keep them in the front room behind the chair. When she found out what they all were she wanted them out of the house. I couldn’t blame her. If she knew half the shit that was written in these files she’d be sick to her stomach. I’m also willing to bet that the innocent light that constantly shines in her eyes each day will slowly disappear. She’s pure, innocent, and doesn’t deserve to be faced with the shit that’s in these boxes. The pictures in the files aren’t much better. Most of it is about the case involving her sister, but once I found out who had hurt Kennedy, I also had everything that the police had on Damon White copied and sent over. One of the perks of still having mates on the inside.

“Fuck’s sake,’’ I shout feeling frustrated. Time is ticking away and the longer it takes me to find him, to find Imogen, is more time Imogen has to spend away from her mom and dad.

“Hey, Evan. Do you have a minute?’’ Lexi’s voice asks sweetly.

“Fuck off, Lexi. I don’t have time for your shit,’’ I yell, throwing a file up the wall near to where she’s standing. “Fuck!’’

“What’s wrong?’’ she asks not giving up.

“Lexi, seriously, my woman is in the hospital and my girl has been kidnapped by some fucking psychopath. I really don’t have time for your shit right now,’’ I shout, looking at her. I watch her flinch, her body tightening like I’d just struck her. I’ve never yelled at a woman like I just did her and I feel kind of shitty for it, or I would if I wasn’t so fucking worried about Kennedy and Imogen.

Fuck’s sake. She’s all alone in that hospital with no family sitting by her side or to show their support. My daughter is out there, god knows where, and I dread to think of what situation she’s in.

“Oh, Evan. What’s happened? Who’s with Kennedy?’’ she asks, only concern lacing her voice.

“No one,’’ I whisper and slump down on the floor.

There is nothing in these files that tell me anything I don’t already know.

He moved in with his dad and stepmom when he turned fourteen because of his junky mother. They are the only living relatives that he has. The police and co-workers of mine have already checked his usual hangout joints and have people asking around. But nothing has come up. There’s no romantic relationship or regular hook-ups and over the last week of our contractor following him we know he doesn’t have a patterned routine.

“I’ll go to the hospital and sit with her. I’ll tell them I’m her sister,’’ Lexi says, but I ignore her when I hear her start talking to Harris. Something in this file has to help me find where the fuck he took my daughter. He has to have another place to go, somewhere he doesn’t visit on a regular basis or hasn’t been on the police radar.

Harris tells Lexi that it’s a good idea but I have no idea what they’re talking about. But then a name stands out in a file. The biological mother. Then it hits me. We’ve been hitting up his dad and step-mom’s house when we should have been looking into his mother and her background. From what it says, she had no visitation rights to Damon, but when he turned eighteen he found her and they formed a relationship. Speculation in the file says she’s the reason he got into selling drugs to begin with. His mom’s poison is heroin, which is what the police think Damon sells, amongst other shit. He’s known for other crimes too, anything to get his hands on money.

“Fuck!’’ I yell out, getting up off the floor. Aaron walks in at that moment looking around at the papers thrown across the room.

“You got anything?’’ he asks looking worried for me. Most likely for my sanity. I feel like I’m losing it, but then, if I lose the two most important people in my life, my sanity will be the least of his worries.

“Yeah. Were all these up-to-date when you had them copied and sent over?’’ I ask, pointing towards the mess.

“Yeah, why?’’

“I think I know where he’s taken her. Harris, you coming with me?’’ I shout before turning back around to Aaron, wondering for the first time who told him to come here. Last we heard he was getting the picture of Damon sent out to the local police stations. “How come you’re here? Not that I mind, I could use all the help I can get.’’

“I’m picking up Lexi to take her to the hospital,’’ he tells me, looking to his right where Lexi has thrown a bag of stuff together. Why the fuck is she packing her stuff? My anger rises again but then I notice that she’s packed some of Imogen’s belongings too. I look up to her confused, wondering what the hell she’s up to. She must have sensed my stare because she stops what she’s doing and turns to me.

“You’re going to find her. You’re going to get her back and when you do, she will need the comfort of her own things. I’ve got some things for Kennedy too. I know I’ve been a shitty friend and I’ve made things awkward between us. I came over to say I’m sorry. But then this happened, and I... I just want to be here for you all.’’

I give her a small smile, thankful that she’s here and thought of all this. Kennedy has no one, just like Lexi. All her family either disowned her or passed away. Her ex wasn’t the best of people, and her family weren’t the brightest either. Kennedy, though, she has me. She will always have me. I’m not going anywhere.

“Thank you,’’ I choke out. “Please call me if you find anything out,’’ I tell her. I walk over and kiss her temple before grabbing my keys off the side.

“I’ll drive,’’ Harris shouts. I stop, turning around, not having time for this shit.

“Mine has Imogen’s car seat,’’ I yell back.

“You’re also blocked in,’’ he snaps and that’s when I notice a car has pulled right up to my car, leaving me no room to pull out.

“Fuck,’’ I growl, kicking the tyre of the offenders car. Fucking prick needs parking lessons.

The drive over to Damon’s mother’s house feels like it’s taking for fucking ever. With the weather as shit as it is, it isn’t the main reason for slowing us down.

Every light we come across turns red, every crossing has had kids or other people crossing. Finally, we pull up to the country road leading to the mother’s house. I’m literally bouncing in my seat ready to take this fucker down.

Taking a sharp bend the car skids to the side. Harris straightens the car but it’s too late. The car ends up on the side of the road. He tries to reverse out, but the tyres skid, mud splattering the tyres. Putting the car into gear he tries to move forward but the car does the same.

We’re fucking stuck.

“This is just fucking great,’’ I shout, slamming my hands on the dashboard.

The backend wheels are spinning like crazy, mud flying all up the side of the car. Harris and I exchange looks before I jump out into the pouring rain, running around the back of the car.

“One, two, three,’’ Harris shouts, revving the car. Mud splatters out from under the tyres and sprays all over me. So not only am I soaking wet but now I’m covered in fucking mud.

I push hard, the strength coming from all the pent up anger that I’ve been harbouring for the past couple of hours. I’m close. So fucking close to getting Imogen back and this happens.

My heart sputters to life when the car jerks forward, the movement nearly causing me to fly forward. I catch my footing before my face meets the ground and rush over, jumping back into the passenger seat.

My foot taps nervously on the car floor and I’m about ready to jump out when we pull up on her street. The tension in the car is suffocating, but I don’t care, I just want my girl back.

“Slow down. If she’s in there you don’t want to go barging in and putting her in danger. Let’s take a look around the back. Backup is on the way. They’re five minutes out,’’ Harris warns me. I know all the rules, all the guidelines, and have my own way of doing shit, but tonight? It’s just gone to shit. The sky has completely darkened, the moon covered from the black clouds as the rain still falls heavily. It matches my mood perfectly.

There’s a car lining the driveway when we pull up a few houses down. There are more on the street, but there’s no telling if they’re for the mother’s house. When I take a look at the house the lights are shining brightly in every window.

“Well they’re definitely in,’’ I mutter.

“What do you want to do?’’ Harris asks looking around the rough neighbourhood.

“Hold on,’’ I tell him, holding my hand up. I read the message on my phone, tapping out a quick reply before putting it back in my pocket. “Andrews is here. He’s going to watch the front. We don’t want to take a chance he’ll escape.’’

“So we go around the back. C’mon.’’

We jump out of the car, walking up to the neighbour’s driveway. I’m hoping the fucker is too wasted to be keeping a look out. I don’t want him noticing us until it’s too late. I don’t want him to see it coming.

We slide around the back of the house to the back garden. The garden is fenced off so we jump over the fence into what has to be the dump. No, I’m fucking serious. Anything and everything fills the garden: shopping trolleys, fridge-freezers, sofas, an oven, and other rubbish and junk.

“The woman needs a trip to the tip,’’ Harris mutters in disgust.

“I think this is the tip,’’ I reply before moving slowly towards the backdoor.

We get closer to the backdoor; both of us crouched down under the kitchen window. Slowly sliding myself up the wall I go to take a look, but a baby’s cry has me pausing in my tracks.

“Fuck,’’ Harris whispers. Just then yelling begins in the house and my spine stiffens.

“Shut that fucking kid up,’’ a woman yells over music and other voices.

“You shut her the fuck up. If I touch the thing I’m ripping it’s lungs out,’’ a man roars, earning laughter from whoever else is in the house. I don’t stop to think. I’m up, leg raised and booting in the backdoor.

The first thing I see when I barge into the kitchen is that the room is filled with smoke. There are a few other guys standing around, but one look at my expression and they’re backing out the kitchen door.

What happens next happens quickly. One minute Damon is standing across the kitchen table from me, then the next, he’s jumping across it. Both of us charge at each other with full force and end up crashing into the table, the wood breaking around us.

“Where’s my fucking daughter?’’ I yell, raising my fist to his face. His malicious grin fuels my rage and the red blood coating his teeth does nothing to satisfy my need to hurt him, to make him pay.

Punch after punch, I raise my fist, wanting to kill the fucker. All I see is red. I don’t care about my job, about going to prison, or anything. I just want him to pay for what he’s done.

“You’re gonna fucking die,’’ Damon roars spitting blood out at his feet.

A kick to my gut has me flying backwards and Damon is on me in a second. I block each blow like I’m trained, but it doesn’t stop him from getting a few punches in.

More noise from the house reaches me but none of it registers. The only person I can see now is
him,
the only person in my mind is
him,
and I’m not going to stop until he’s begging for mercy.

Kicking his legs out from under him gives me an advantage. I’m on him in a second and I grip him hard around the neck.

“I’m not the one dying tonight,’’ I grit out, feeling my hands tighten their grip. His face begins to turn red, and I find satisfaction in that split second. Then he’s gripping me around the waist with his legs, his arm grabbing my own neck and twisting us to the side. I land with a thud against a cupboard, a slight pain shooting in my side.

More shouting fills the kitchen along with the sound of glass smashing and other noises. I try to listen out for Imogen but Damon takes that split second of distraction to punch me in the ear, sending me off balance for a second.

Reaching up, I hit the palm of my hand as hard as I can into his nose. Blood spurts out all over the place and he howls in pain before kicking out at me again, connecting with my shins. His cries echo in my ears as I try to steady myself.

Fucking sissy.

I’m suddenly jumped from behind, my legs carrying me backwards from the sudden weight. Whoever the fuck is on me delivers a few punches to my head before I ram his back against the sink, his screams of agony howling across the kitchen. I throw him over my shoulder, hitting him at Damon who has just jumped to his feet, and knock them both to the floor. My breathing is erratic, sweat beading my forehead and body.

When Damon kicks the bloke away, I’m ready for him. I manage to deliver a few kicks to the ribs, before the wind is knocked out of me. In his hand Damon holds the thick, broken leg to the table, aiming at my side. My reflexes are becoming slow and he manages to knock me down to the floor.

He jumps up to his feet just as the sound of more voices fill the house. His startled eyes jump to me before jumping to the backdoor. I can see the decision in his eyes, and before he can make a run for it, I kick my feet out again, knocking him to the floor. 

Lying on my back I lift my arms above me, the palms of my hands touching the floor before lifting my knees as close as I can to my head. Bending on my back a little I let my feet swing with power before swinging my upper body forward, the muscles in my stomach and back tightening. Once I’m vertical and standing on my feet steadily I move to the left, circling Damon. He doesn’t hang around. As soon as the pads of his feet are touching the kitchen floor, he tries to move past me for the backdoor. He doesn’t get far before I’m swinging my arm out, catching him in the chest. He grunts at the contact and I give him a smirk.

“Playing with fire, pig,’’ he grits out. With a force I didn’t think he had left in him, he has me by the shoulders and is hauling me across the kitchen, my body smacking hard into the kitchen sink. Cutlery crashes around me, plates and mugs smashing on the floor.

Rolling to the side, I roll off the kitchen sink and straighten up. Grunting I rush forward, swinging my fists into the side of his stomach. He hisses out a pain at the same time he lands another blow to my jaw, knocking me back a few steps. I soon gain composure and push him against the work bench on the other side of the kitchen, my hands gripping his neck in another tight squeeze. Only this time I show him no mercy.

Seeing his rugged scar across his face is just another reminder of how scared Kennedy was of him. Images of her bruised face and body flicker through my mind and it just causes my anger to rise.

“You’ll fucking pay for what you’ve done to my woman and daughter,’’ I growl. The metallic taste of blood invades my mouth and it’s worse than the smell of blood filling the air in the tiny little kitchen.

“Fuck... you,’’ he chokes out trying to spit at me.

I laugh throwing my head back and I know I sound manic. I’m crazy. I must be. I hear Harris shout something to me but the ringing in my ears hasn’t stopped, it’s blurred all of my senses of hearing, control, and reasoning.

When I look back down into the eyes of the soulless man that did this to my life, my world, I finally snap out of it. He needs to pay. And I don’t mean paying from me ending his life. That’s too easy for him. It’ll only cause me to be punished for his wrongdoings. Going to jail because of a fucking loser like him isn’t going to help me get Imogen back to her mother. It’s not going to change what has happened and, as I said, it’s too easy for him if I let him die.

I throw Damon off me, pushing his limp body back into the counter with a loud thud. Turning around I’m about to question Harris when I see something silver reflect in the kitchen light. It blinds me momentarily, enough time for me to notice Damon raise his hand.

Even exhausted, emotionally drained and only charged by my anger, I move quickly. My hand dashes out grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. I move forward, shovelling him backwards before taking his hand and slamming it up against the high wall cupboard. It takes me a few attempts before the knife drops to the floor. Once it’s safe I move back and before he can take another swing at me, I rear my fist back, taking one last shot, knocking him out cold.

He falls to the floor in a heap and I don’t bother moving to check if he’s alright. I just turn to get my daughter.

Harris is there, his foot on a lady’s back whilst he holds a screaming Imogen in his arms. She looks filthy. The fuckers haven’t even bothered changing her. She’s been lying in a shitty, wet nappy, the stench is nearly making me gag. It’s soaked through her clothes, the stains are visible and my heart clenches.

She’s still screaming her lungs out, her face is bright red, bordering on purple, but other than that, I can’t see any cuts or bruises. That said, it still doesn’t mean that there isn’t some on her or that they haven’t hurt her.

I keep my eyes locked with Harris’ whilst grabbing Imogen from him. The second I get her in my arms I’m holding her tight in my arms. She cries harder, the sound breaking my heart. I check her over visually seeing no signs of any injuries which causes me to relax a little. But the smell of weed on her clothes has my body tightening all over again.

I need to know if the ambulance is on the way, so when I open my mouth to ask, a scuffle on the floor has me looking down. Harris has still got his foot pressed firmly down on who I presume is the mother. I end up giving him a strange look before my eyes rear back to the struggling woman on the floor.  

“She resisted arrest,’’ he shrugs and I can tell he’s not telling me something when his eyes flick to the left.

“What did she do?’’ I bite out, wishing I could scrap my hitting no women policy just for a second. The woman is wearing dirty, grubby clothes that are far too big for her. I can see bone sticking out everywhere I look, and when my eyes reach hers they look just as cold and ragged as her expression.

“Look, the ambulance should be outside in a sec,’’ he says, just as I hear the sirens moving closer. I move to the door just as he speaks. “Don’t lose your head now. They’re going to tell you eventually or you’ll hear me inform the paramedic, but she had her hands wrapped round Immy’s neck so make sure the paramedics look her over properly,’’ he adds quickly, looking like he’s ready to strain me if need be.

“Fuck.’’ I’m torn on whether to hit a woman for the first time in my life, but having Imogen screaming in my arms reminds me she needs to get to the hospital. She needs to be checked over and she certainly needs to come before some dirty fucking scumbag. Damon’s mom will pay for what she did, just like her son.

Walking out the door two officers come running up the front garden. “They’re in the kitchen. One’s knocked out, one is being restrained,’’ I tell them as I walk straight to the ambulance. I’m about to walk into the back when the male paramedic stops me.

“Sorry, sir, but you’ll have to wait. We have a patient that is unconscious that we need to deal with first,’’ he says and I see red.

“No, you don’t,’’ I bite out. “You have a five month old baby that was kidnapped, strangled and filthy; she’s covered in shit and piss. Now get in the front seat and drive us to the fucking hospital.”