Lost for You (23 page)

Michael Evans is widely known to be corrupt and dirty. He’s been on the take for a number of years, and it’s no secret that he hates Victor Bertorelli. Actually, hate is too nice of a world. He despises the man with a deep passion. I’ve never found out why, but I suspect it’s some sordid deal gone wrong in the past.

“Why are you calling me, Gibbons?” he asked when he returned my third call.

“I need a safe house in New York state. Somewhere out of the way and undetectable.”

“Why should I help you?” he asked deadpan.

“Because I hate Victor as much as you do, possibly more, and I need somewhere to stow away for a few days where I can’t be disturbed.”

“And what is in it for me? I’m not a fucking charity,” he says, his voice cold and emotionless.

“What do you want?”

“I want Brax and Shay away from Victor.” Fuck! He wants the impossible.

“The only way to do that is to turn them against the boss man. How do you expect me to do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really care, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ll text you the address.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. This plan of mine might actually work. “I’ll pay you.”

He bursts out laughing; a cold, maniacal laugh that chills my bones. “I don’t want or need your fucking money, Gibbons. But don’t worry, I’ll get what I’m owed. One way or another. Don’t you worry.” And with that, the line went dead.

That was two days ago.

Now, my GPS tells me I’m one hundred feet away from my destination. I turn into the driveway, and I’m confronted by a decrepit rundown cabin which doesn’t look big enough to swing a cat around, let alone hold two adults for a few days. It’ll be cosy, but I’m running out of options.

I bring the car to a stop around the back of the wooden building and hop out. I push a warped wooden door open and flick on a light switch. There is a rusty wooden bed in the corner of the room, with a ripped two seater couch along the front wall. There is an old wooden table along the other wall, beside a doorway presumably leading to a toilet. At the very least, I fucking hope there is a shitter in this dump.

Jamming one of the dining room chairs under the front door handle, I walk back out the back door to bring Elise inside. As much as I’d love to leave her in the trunk, I’m not an animal.

I pop the trunk open, and all I see are her wide open eyes, full of fear and the unknown.

“I’m taking you inside now. If you fight me, I’ll fight back. Understand?” I talk slow and clear to her, my voice low, almost soothing. I want to make sure there is no room for misunderstanding. “I’ll let you walk, but don’t even think of running. I have a gun and I’m not scared of using it,” I spit out, lifting my shirt and showing her the piece attached to my hip. Her eyes dart down to my gun and quickly back up to my face as she nods quickly. I can see her chest rising and falling rapidly, and she’s constantly blinking her eyes like she’s trying to hold back tears and appear tougher than she really is.

“Okay, I’ll lift you out,” I say as I lean forward and hook my arms under her torso, hoisting her out and placing her feet on the dirt ground. I let her go for a second to shut the trunk, and she makes a run for it.

I yell at her retreating back. “Fucking bitch! You’ll pay for that.” I run after her, getting angrier as I hear her loud screams for help echo through the darkness. I catch up to her, making a grab for her legs and knocking her over, flat on her face onto the gravel driveway.

Towering over her, I look down at her now bleeding head. Her face grazed, small pieces of gravel and grit sticking to the blood trickling down her cheek. “Fuck, now I’m gonna have to clean you up. Maybe next time you won’t try running, you stupid little rich girl.”

“W…w…hat do you want from me? I can get you money, however much you need. Just please don’t hurt me. I just want to go home,” she stutters and starts to cry.

“You bet your ass you will, but we’ll deal with that later. Right now you need to get inside and cleaned up,” I say, bending down and lifting her up by her bound arms. I look her over as I’m holding her. Damn, Brax got himself a nice piece of tail. No wonder he raced back to her side.

I shake my head. Eyes on the prize, Gibbons. My mind is racing a million miles an hour. She’s fucking bleeding now and looks like she’s been beaten. Fuck! If any of the boys see this, they’ll kill me first and ask questions later. God, that’ll probably happen anyway if they find me. I need to get the money and get the fuck outta dodge.

Otherwise, the only way I’ll be leaving here will be in a body bag, and there’s no coming back from that.

Two fucking hours.

She’s been gone for two hours already. All I can see when I close my eyes is her scared face, her eyes filled with terror. I’ve been going mad, trying to think of who has taken her and where they may have gone.

Thankfully, there were cameras in the restaurant’s hallway, but not in the alleyway. That was always going to be a stretch. While Shay and I were talking to the police, Devon went with one of the officer’s to view the restaurant’s security tapes. When he saw the moment that Elle was grabbed from behind, he called us in to take a look.

I knew straight away that it was Gibbons. I’d know that silhouette anywhere. The bastard was hiding in the supply closet. God knows how he knew she would be alone. He must have been watching us, biding his time. Sitting there, waiting for his opportunity. We never would have followed her to the rest room. How were we to know that she wouldn’t even be safe going to the toilet?

Watching this man, my former supervisor, viciously grab Elle has my blood boiling. I’m seeing red, and I know I need to calm down in order to think clearly, but seeing him wrap his hand around her mouth and watching her body slowly go limp shatters me.

My poor girl. She’s been through so much already, and now because of me, because of my connections to Victor Bertorelli and Gibbons, she’s been snatched and is lying somewhere scared and helpless. I know she’s strong, but she hasn’t been exposed to this dark underworld before. I’ve never wanted my past life, the one I desperately want to leave behind, to touch her.

I storm out of the office and into the alley again. I can hear Shay calling my name behind me, but I’m blocking him out. I’m trying to block everything out. I reach the brick wall lining the alley and kick it hard. The pain rushing through my foot pales in comparison to the pain ripping through my heart.

“Fuck!” I yell into the night sky. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I brace my arms against the wall, resting my forehead against the cold rough bricks.

“Brax, you need to calm the hell down and think. Where would he take her? Who would he know around here that would help him?” Shay says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I spin around and look at my best friend. I know he’s struggling with this too, but at least he’s still able to think rationally.

I start pacing, wracking my brain with all the possibilities. Then it hits me. It’s a long shot, but it’s a chance I’m gonna have to take if I want any chance of seeing Elle alive again.

Grabbing my phone from my jeans pocket, I pull it out and stare at it.

“What B? What is it?” Shay asks. I look over at him and see the concern on his face. He’s never seen me like this; so helpless, so unprepared.

“Evans,” is all I spit out before I bring up the last known number I have for my birth father and push the call button. I don’t care what this call is going to cost me. Whatever he wants, whatever he demands. If he can lead me back to Elle, I’ll do whatever it takes.

“Brax,” he answers, his voice low and controlled.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what I’m about to do. “Elle has been kidnapped by Gibbons. You know anything about it?”

“Gibbons?” he sounds shocked.

“Yeah, security footage shows him grabbing her and carrying her towards a car waiting at the back of the restaurant we are at,” I say quickly, wiping the sweat off my forehead. I’m actually nervous now, especially seeing as Evans is my last hope.

“He rang me two days ago. Offered me money to find him a place to hide out for a few days.”

“What? And you didn’t think I needed to know this? Where the fuck is he, Evans? For the love of God, you better hope he hasn’t hurt her!” I yell.

I hear him cuss under his breath. “He’s at one of my safe houses about fifty miles out of town. I’ll text you the address. But no police, Brax. Just you.”

I’m already walking back through the restaurant now. “Shay and Devon will be going with me, but no police. I’ll try throwing them off, but you better not be fucking with me.”

“Okay, Shay and Devon, but that’s it, Brax. I’m deadly serious. I’m in the city, but I can be there in about an hour,” he explains.

“I’m not promising a thing. You know that, right?”

“I’m not asking for anything, Brax. Not this time. Your girl needs you. Move your ass and go get her.”

I hang up, wondering why the hell Evans would suddenly be so interested in my girl’s safety. He’s far from the perfect father figure; I wonder why he’s suddenly all about his family? First, he was telling me to give Sylvia a chance and how he’s been keeping track of her all these years, and now this. I shake my head and walk inside to find Shay and Devon waiting at the bar.

“We off?” Shay asks.

“Yup. Need to lose the cops, though. He’s at Evans’ safe house just outta town. He’s gonna send me the address and meet us there. I’m going now. You guys can either stay or come with me, but you better make your minds up now because I’m walking out the door and going to get my car.”

They both nod and follow me out of the restaurant, leaving the police behind. Our sole focus is on getting Elle back and dealing with Gibbons, once and for fucking all.

We run the three blocks back to the apartment building. I race upstairs and grab my gun, jacket, and car keys, then take the stairs two at a time until I’m in the basement parking lot where Devon and Shay are waiting for me by my car.

“You okay, bro?” Shay asks, his voice laced with concern.

“No, but I will be when I get her back. Let’s do this.” I unlock the car, and we all jump in.

I check my phone for the address Evans texted me and turn the key; the V8 engine roars to life. I put the address into my GPS and pull out of the parking space, steering the car up the ramp and out on the road. I’m resisting the urge to gun it and speed off. We don’t want to attract any attention until we get Elle back and know she’s safe.

Once we’re on the freeway, I put my foot down and floor it. My mustang jumps to life, and the speedometer jumps up to one hundred miles an hour in no time. The GPS says we’re forty minutes out. I think these are going to be the longest forty minutes of my life.

I’m sitting in the passenger seat beside Brax as we speed towards some abandoned house in the middle of nowhere.