Rock the City: A Midnight Fate Novel (33 page)

They’re shut down, so we find the stairs and take them three at a time. Easton’s racing toward Lark, Dom to Gina, and I’m running for Noelle. But after I climb the extra flight, I remember Noelle’s not even here. At this point, I’m chasing the wind.

“Lane!” Reed says in a rush as pulls me farther down the hallway.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s fucking Rusty. He got to Lemon tonight. I don’t know how he figured out where she was, but she’s gone.”

“Gone? What the fuck are you talking about? She’s in a goddamn treatment center with a security team.”

“They didn’t tell me much, for legal reasons obviously, but she was in the courtyard during visiting hours when he got to her.”

“And nobody was watching her?”

“It was visiting hours. I’m sure there were a lot of people coming and going.”

“I don’t give a fuck if the President was there. They knew the risks and what we’ve been up against.” I brace myself against the wall, trying my hardest not to look like a maniac and punch a hole through it. I’m sick to death of people fucking up. “How long has she been missing?”

“A couple hours, but there’s more.”

“More? That’s not enough?”

Reed shakes his head. “I wish it were, but Rusty was here tonight, Lane.”

“How do you know?”

“I came up here right after the center called and said Lemon was gone. There was a cryptic note taped to the door. I called the cops before I touched anything and called downstairs to see the surveillance footage.”

“Did you see him?”

“It was him. The media’s all over this, Lane. It’s bad. Really fuckin’ bad.”

“My sister’s missing, Reed. I know how bad it is.”

He clasps my shoulder, and while I want to help Lemon, I don’t even know where to start—especially if she went back to him willingly. “Where’s the note? I want to see it.”

Reed ushers me inside my own house and hands me the note that’s inside a plastic baggie.

You can try to keep her from me, but she’s still MINE.

I don’t have to try to keep her from you. Eventually she’ll hate you, too.

“What the hell?” I mutter as I read the words, trying to connect all the dots.

The detective standing across from me says, “It doesn’t appear he was inside the house today, but we did find his prints.”

“Where?”

“We found transmitters under the coffee table and nightstand. We have reason to believe he placed them there himself.”

He sets the evidence in front of me, and there’s no denying the fact that he’s had my placed bugged for who knows how long. Rusty’s heard every conversation and private moment I’ve had with both Lemon and Noelle. The safe place I’ve promised them hasn’t been safe at all.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, hoping Noelle’s still awake. Like earlier, she lets the call go to voice mail.

“She didn’t answer?” Reed asks me.

“No. Something’s not right, man. I feel it.” I take off, leaving everyone to finish up what they’re doing, not even caring my house has been ransacked.

Reed catches up to me in the stairwell, trying to slow me down. “Where are you going?”

“I need to get to Noelle. She always picks up when I call her.”

Thankfully, Reed agrees with me and doesn’t try to slow me down or stop me. All he says is, “We’ll take my car to her place. If she’s not there, we’ll keep looking.”

I’ve expected her to be in meetings at the salon all night, making sure her books and business are in order, but Noelle would never blatantly ignore me. Even on some of her busiest days in the salon, she’d make herself get behind schedule just to take one of my calls and hear my voice for five or ten minutes.

“What if he has Noelle, too?”

Reed looks as concerned as I feel. Before he gets in his car, he speaks to the officer in the parking garage. They exchange words and the officer jots down some notes on a pad before Reed’s running back to the car.

As soon as he opens the door, he tells me, “He’s calling the police department by Noelle. They’ll send a squad car to her house to check on her. One to the salon, too.”

I’ve been in such a hurry, I didn’t even consider it. “I don’t want her with a bunch of strangers. It’ll freak her out.”

“Lane, if she’s in trouble, she won’t care how many people show up.”

I pound my fist on the dashboard, pissed that I let this happen. “My music fucked it all up again.”

“It has nothing to do with your music.”

“The hell it doesn’t. He knew Lemon would be in the center. He knew Noelle was going back home. He knew I’d be in the studio. He couldn’t have picked a better day if he tried. We’re all scattered around a couple hundred mile radius. We’re fucked.”

“We’re not, Lane. We’ll find them both.”

“I’m not going home until we do.”

Reed’s going well over the speed limit, but it still feels like we’re crawling. I try calling Noelle’s phone every ten minutes, but all my attempts go unanswered. If Lemon had a phone, I’d call her, too.

“If he hurts either one of them, Reed, I swear.”

“I know, man. Just think positive until we figure it out.”

Considering there is no bright side to the situation, all my thoughts are of the absolute worst-case scenario. All of them lead me down paths I don’t want to reach the end of.

Finally, after almost two torturous hours, we see a squad car in Noelle’s driveway next to my car. “Look, she’s here,” Reed tells me, like the sight of my car is supposed to make me feel better.

I won’t feel an ounce of relief until I see
her
.

I hop out of his car before it even comes to a complete stop, practically skinning my hands and knees against the asphalt. “Jesus, Lane. Slow down.”

I hear him, but I’m not stopping. The officer on the front porch must agree with Reed because he sees me coming full steam ahead and charges me in the middle of the yard, throwing me to the ground.

“She’s my fiancée,” I plead, as the side of my face is pressed against the cool blades of grass. The officer keeps his knee in the center of my back until Reed confirms my identity and shows him his own badge. Reed may not be on the force anymore, but he’s as close as it comes to wearing the uniform.

The officer helps me to my feet and I don’t even bother dusting the dirt off my clothes. “Where is she?”

“She’s inside, but she’s not going to look the same as you last saw her.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Rusty Travers was here.”

That’s all it takes for me to lose my shit in the front yard. I push past both him and Reed, calling her name like she’s going to answer me. “Noelle!”

I expect her to hear my voice and come running, but the living room’s empty along with the kitchen and dining room.

“Noelle!” I yell a little louder until I see the ropes dangling from the railing and lose the ability to speak at all.

I stand staring at tan fibers, picturing him torturing her in unimaginable ways. “What are they for?”

Reed steps forward, eyeing them along with me. “I don’t know, Lane. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Your girl’s tough as nails. For all we know, she had his ass tied up.”

“You better be right,” I tell him as I charge the stairs, silently rattling off every prayer I can think of like I’m the most religious man on the face of the earth. And I’d go to church every damn day for the rest of my life if it meant Rusty didn’t hurt her.

I can tell it’s bad when I get to the top of the steps and see her head resting on the shoulder of a female officer. She had to have heard me yelling for her, yet she doesn’t budge when I walk into the bathroom.

Like we’re suddenly strangers, I’m cautious as I approach her, afraid she’ll break down when she sees me. “Baby, I’m here,” I whisper as I crouch down in front of her. I try to hold her hand but she snatches it away from me, never once looking at me or saying a word.

Her silence only scares me more. “Noelle, look at me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that!” she says as her chin quivers. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I expect her to yell at me some more—I’d even welcome it. But like she blocked out everything other than that one sentence, she lays her head back down and closes her eyes, completely ignoring me.

“What’s going on?” I ask the officer, who’s still looking at me with pity in her eyes.

“She’s still in shock, but she wouldn’t leave until you got here.”

“Leave? Where’s she going?”

“I wanted to take her to the hospital to be examined. She has some injuries.”

Her eyes open and she looks like she wants to bite someone’s head off again. I can’t tell if it’s from the shock like the officer said, or just some of her usual sad peeking through. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not sitting here?”

“What happened, Noelle? Talk to me.”

She turns her head just enough that I see the bruise covering her cheek and the little cut by her eye. My eyes travel lower, angry and afraid of what they’ll find next. “Your neck.”

She winces when she touches the angry shades of red that are already turning blue. Even her lips are jagged and sore.

“What did he do to you, Noelle?”

“He tied me up,” she whispers. “And he choked me and hit me.”

Needing to hold her even though I’m afraid it’ll hurt her more, I sit down and pull her into my lap. I try to link my fingers with hers, but she pulls them away like she can’t stand my touch. “Did I hurt you?”

She breaks down into gut-wrenching sobs, clinging to me like I’m going to disappear into thin air if she lets go. “My ring,” she says over and over, like a piece of jewelry is more important than her battered body.

“It’s okay, Noelle. I don’t care about the ring. All I care about is
you
.”

“I would rather he hit me again if it meant I still had my ring.” She sniffles and wipes her tears on the back of her hand. She’s stuffed up and can barely catch her breath, but her words still come out loud and clear. My heart aches even more for her.

“Don’t say that, Noelle. You don’t deserve this.”

“It was worth it if it kept him away from Lemon for a little while. She’s the strong one.”

I’m a grown-ass man being shredding to pieces on a bathroom floor.

I slide my hands under her legs and carry her down the stairs in my arms. “Do you want anything before we leave?”

“I don’t want to be in this house, Lane.”

“After I take you to the hospital, we’re going home, Noelle. And once we get there, Rusty better pray we never cross paths. If I’m ever in the same room as him, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

After three hours in the emergency room, every inch of Noelle has been thoroughly checked over. Other than a bruised and sore body, there’s no permanent damage to her throat and back—or any other injuries that won’t get better after some rest and healing.

“You’re still so pale,” I tell her as Reed drives us back to New York.

“I’m just tired.”

She can barely keep her eyes open, but her back hurts too much for her to lay her head in my lap. All she can do is lean against my shoulder while I hold an ice pack against her spine. Every now and then, when she gets too cold, I take it off and tell Reed to turn the heat up.