Coming Home to You (The Rockport Beach Series Book 1) (27 page)

BOOK: Coming Home to You (The Rockport Beach Series Book 1)
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“No,” I tell him. “I’ll call Ryan again and
ask him.”

Finn nods as I pull out my cell. I’m just
about to dial his number when my phone rings, Ryan’s name lighting up the
screen. I stab at the answer button and put it to my ear.

“I was just about to call you,” I say,
running a hand through my hair.

“Sorry I took so long,” he says. “You back
in Rockport yet?”

“Yeah just walked into the station, what
did you find?”

“Nothing on that boat in Rockport,” he
says. “It doesn’t come from there and it’s not registered in Boston either.”

“Fuck,” I say, exhaling hard.

“Beck,” Ryan says, his voice firm.

“What?”

“There was a
Lucky Lady
that was registered to a woman in Gloucester,” he says.
“That’s not far from Rockport.”

“Yeah I know,” I say, trying to write down
everything Ryan is telling me so Finn can keep in the loop. “But a woman? Finn
says there was another person on the boat, probably driving it, but a woman
doesn’t make sense.” Ryan exhales hard through the phone and my stomach seizes.
“What aren’t you telling me Summers?” I ask now.

“The woman who owns the boat is Rachel
Hansen,” Ryan says. “But I don’t think she’s got anything to do with what’s
happened to Kels because no one’s seen her for the past year.”

“What?” I practically yell. “What do you
mean no one’s seen her?”

“I mean she’s missing, Beck. Family hasn’t
seen or heard from her since she broke up with her boyfriend.”

“Jason?” I ask, a lump of dread now firmly
lodged in my throat. Fuck if this guy does anything to Kelsey, anything at all,
he is so fucking dead. I don’t give a shit about a fair trial or a long jail sentence;
the only place this guy deserves to be is in the ground.

“Well, he wasn’t going by Jason back then,”
Ryan says, interrupting the murderous rage running through my head. “To her, he
was Tyson Carter.”

“Fuck,” I breathe out. “But you’re sure it’s
him?”

“Yep,” Ryan confirms. “Sent a picture to
the Gloucester police chief, he got the parents to come in and ID him. He’s our
guy, Beck.”

“Fucking hell,” I say, scrubbing a hand
down my face as I look up at Finn. “Thanks, Ryan, seriously. I fucking owe you
one.”

“You don’t owe me shit, dude,” he says.
“Just find her, quickly.”

“Oh I will, don’t you worry.”

“Good. I’ll be up as soon as I can. Keep in
touch.”

I hang up the phone and relay everything
Ryan told me to Finn and Pop. They both stand there dumbstruck; neither of them
able to believe just how far this guy’s gone. Apparently dirty cop and aggressive
stalker is only the tip of the iceberg with this guy. And the fact that this
Rachel Hansen is still missing, and has been for quite some time, is enough to
get all three of us thinking only one thing.

There’s a reason missing persons’ cases are
scaled down after a while. When it moves from looking for a person to looking
for a body.

“You gonna head up to Gloucester?” Pop
asks, looking between Finn and me.

I turn to Finn and he nods. “Yep, I’ll
leave the rest of the guys here in Rockport, have them keep an eye on things
and Beck and I will head up there now.”

“Anything you need me to do?” Pop asks,
glancing at me now.

I shake my head. “No, just be at home in
case Kels’ calls. I’m gonna give you Ryan’s number too.”

Pop nods his head and after we exchange
numbers, Finn and I head into his office to get ready.

“You got a gun?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “No, couldn’t bring mine.
You got a spare I can use?”

Finn nods and opens his desk drawer. “It’s
mine, not the force’s, so it’s clean; don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” I say, checking it’s loaded and
the safety is on, before tucking it in the back of my jeans. “We ready to go?”

Finn exhales hard, his hands on his hips as
he stares at me from the other side of his desk.

“What?” I ask him.

“We have to do this by the book, Beck,” he
says, holding me with a hard stare. “I’m going out there as a Rockport cop, you’re
a Boston detective. This shit is about to get real, but we gotta do it by the
book.”

I stare at my brother for a few seconds
knowing he’s right. “I know, okay. But just so you know, if that fucker
threatens her or I think she’s in any kind of danger, then I’m not gonna hesitate
to put a bullet in him.”

Finn nods once. “I know.”

We grab flashlights, extra ammo and a
couple of other things before heading out to Finn’s police cruiser. Pop’s
standing beside it and shakes both of our hands, only saying, “Bring her home.”

I nod once, knowing there’s absolutely no
alternative to this.

“What’s the plan?” I ask as we both slide
into our seats.

“I’ll call the chief over there on our way.
Arrange to meet up at the station and go from there.”

“You know this Rachel woman probably,
well…shit,” I murmur, staring out the window at the night sky as I try to face
the reality of what’s happened to her. “I mean, she’s missing, and I don’t
think it’s because she suddenly wanted to disappear.”

“I know, Beck,” Finn says, quietly. “But it’s
only been two hours, okay? Let’s just go up there and get this done,” he adds,
staring at the road as he radios the Gloucester chief of police.

I continue to stare out the window as Finn
relays the details to their chief. The car is quiet and I tune out Finn’s voice,
giving me plenty of space to think about Kelsey and the possibility of losing
her. What that will do to me. Fuck, I thought walking away from her ten years
ago was hard enough, but the idea of losing her permanently, of never being
able to touch her, kiss her, see her laugh, fuck that kills me.

Whatever happens tonight, there is no other
alternative but to get her back alive, and when I do, I’m gonna make damn sure
she knows how much I love her.

How much I need her.

And how I’m never going to leave her, ever
again.

 
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Kelsey
 

I roll over and I realize I’m in a bed,
dressed in someone else’s clothes. My limbs are weak and my mind cloudy as I
feel like I’m trapped in a haze, caught between awake and asleep. I can’t seem
to keep my eyes open as I try to focus on where I am.

Then it hits me like a freight train. The
loose boat in the storm. Jason. The struggle on the dock. Being taken away while
Sam and Bella stood by helplessly and watched.

I
have to get out of here
, I think as I pull my aching body from the bed,
drag myself to the window and look out onto the water. Blinking rapidly, I try
to clear my eyes.

As far as I can see, it’s rocky coastline
and water. Not another house for miles, but that doesn’t stop me from pushing
up on the window. Knowing Jason is far too smart to leave me unattended in a
room where I could easily get away, the window won’t move. Nailed shut with a
series of rusty nails, all driven into the wood so deeply there’s an impression
from the hammer left around each one.

I scrub my hands over my face trying to
figure out what to do. I could break the window, climb out and run to find
someone to help me. But even in this hazy stupor, I know that’s impossible. My
body is too weak to take me very far and from the looks of things, it might be
nearly impossible to find civilization.

I notice the boat, the one Jason dragged me
onto, floating at the dock just a few yards down from the house. I could get to
the boat, but there’s no guarantee the keys will be in it or that I could even
make it there. Turned over on the dock is a small rowboat, with the oars
crossed over the top of it. That may be my only chance of escape.

I debate in my head just how to break the
window and exactly how long it would take me to get to the dock and turn the
rowboat over and get it into the water. But every thought is entirely
pointless. In the state I’m in, I can barely lift my arm up over my head, let
alone carry myself down to the water and row a boat for miles.

Feeling hopeless, I collapse on the floor;
my body giving way and the tears begin to fall. I can only imagine what is
going on back home. I’m sure Beck is going insane and Finn is even angrier with
himself for leaving Sam in charge.

But none of this is their fault. I left and
went out to the dock without telling Sam. I left Bella inside when I should
have taken her with me. I made so many mistakes, but I can’t dwell on that now.
I need to figure out where I’m at and find a way to get word to Beck or Finn or
anyone at this point.

I crawl back over to the bed, climbing in
and pulling the covers up over my head, I listen to the silence of the house. I
have no idea what time it is, but judging by the sky, it’s early morning. The
sun is just beginning to rise out over the water, casting an ethereal glow into
the room.

Removing the covers, I strain to listen for
anything that might indicate whether Jason is in the house or not. I hear
nothing, so I get up and test the door. Turning the knob, it opens; shocking me
that he wouldn’t think to lock the door from the outside.

I pad quietly down the hallway, to a
doorway that opens up to a small living room and kitchen. I stop and look
around, apprehensive, my heart thumping rapidly in my chest as I try to process
just exactly where I’m at and how I’m going to get away.

The house is almost too quiet, an eerie
silence that makes me shudder. And then, from out of nowhere, a ferocious blow
to the back of my head knocks me to the ground and my body bounces off the worn
wood floor. My vision blurs even more than before as the pain pulses through my
skull.

I scream out loud just as a swift blow is
landed against my stomach, and all the air leaves my lungs, unleashing another
scream but this time silently. Curled into a ball anticipating another blow, I
try to fight the nausea that pools in my throat.

I roll over and look up at Jason standing
over me. His face filled with horror as he bends down and scoops me into his
arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whimpers, tears
running from his eyes. He strokes my hair, shushing and pressing kisses to my
face. I struggle in his arms, twisting and turning, but he hauls back and
smacks me across the face. “Stop it!” he yells, tugging at his hair.

My eyes grow wide as I take in his face and
I realize I’m dealing with someone who is far more unstable than I ever
thought.

“Rachel,” he cries. “Don’t you see? We can
be together again. I love you.”

“Who’s Rachel?” I ask, not realizing this
will cause him to explode with fury.

Jason shoves me away from him, slapping me
again, my face burning and as I run my tongue along my lip, I taste blood. I
swallow hard and brace myself for another slap. My shoulders are scrunched up
and my eyes are closed as I feel his hand stroke my cheek gently.

“You’re Rachel, silly girl,” he says, once
again turning on a dime, his personality mimicking that of someone who cares
about me.

“And you’re…” I say, hoping he doesn’t lose
his shit again, but he smiles at me sweetly.

“Oh, I like this game,” he says, stepping
closer to me. “I’m your boyfriend, Tyson, but if you want to role play, we can
do that.” He shoots me a wicked smile and I almost vomit on the spot.

I can’t think of anything more repulsive
than pretending to be Jason’s girlfriend, but I recognize in order to get
through this, I’m going to need to be smarter than him. And right now,
pretending his name is Tyson and my name is Rachel, feels like my only option.

He could have killed me already; he’s had
multiple opportunities to do so and I realize now that he doesn’t want to kill
me. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen if he flies off into a fit of rage
again.

Pulling myself together and gathering up
the courage I need to accomplish this, I picture Beck’s face. I need to get
back to him, I need to feel his arms around me. I need the safety and comfort I
find with him, but it won’t happen unless I can figure out how to get away from
Jason.

I sidle up against Jason’s side, my arms
slipping around his waist as I run my lips across his neck and look around the
room for a phone or something to indicate just where I’m at.

On an end table next to the couch is a
picture of a young woman with what looks like her family. She’s got a smile on
her face and as I take in the picture, I notice she looks an awful lot like me.
Tall and thin, brown hair and blue eyes. This must be Rachel. And as I take in
the rest of the house, I gather that this must be Rachel’s house. Decorated in
muted blues and greens, bookshelves with books and pictures flank the
fireplace. It looks like she lives alone or lived alone because I have seen no
sign of her.

So far this is the only indication of where
I might be and in the grand scheme of things, it means nothing. All I have is a
first name and the rocky coastline to go on.

Jason’s hand begins to move up the back of
my shirt and I tense in his arms. That vomit that finally started to subside
has now returned. I can’t possibly have sex with Jason. I’m willing to fake
this, but I can’t bring myself to do that.

I slide away from him, taking his hand in
mine and leading him into the kitchen. My body still aching with exhaustion and
now sore from the beating I just took, I fall into a chair.

“Baby,” I say, my voice sickeningly sweet.
“I’m so hungry. Do you think we could have some breakfast?”

“Of course,” he says, pressing his lips to
mine in a kiss that is far too needy and it takes everything in me to respond.

My lips are firm against his, while his
tongue nudges at my mouth, trying to part my lips. I swallow hard and give in,
but my eyes stay glued closed.

Jason pulls back and leans down to give me
a quick kiss on the top of my head before retreating to the refrigerator to
start making breakfast.

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