Every Little Dream (Second Chances) (14 page)

I slide over to the wall and try to find a comfortable spot. It’s near impossible when hard wood digs into my back. Thoughts of Chad invade my fears and regrets, all that I’ve grown to love about him, especially the teasing look in his eye when he takes me out for some new experience. He never knew I noticed the complete thrill he experienced when we were together. If his extracurricular activities are any kind of example of his life, then maybe the thrill he felt was a result of having fun and living a more innocent carefree life.

In the quiet and darkness I can’t pretend. I know why he pushed me off him that night. I know why he mysteriously disappeared from dates or showed up late. And now I know what kind of work he was doing for his dad. The dangerous kind. And I walked right into the middle of it.

The more I sit in silence, the more I panic. My shirt sticks to my back in the thick, hot air. My stifled breaths in and out surround me. I cough, a tickle grabbing hold of my throat. I muster up and swallow what spit I have. I close my eyes tight and ignore the fears that threaten to consume me.
 

Chad

The grit from the parking lot crunches between my teeth and mixes with the blood trickling from my lip. My vision is blurry but I make out the taillights as the guys who beat my ass skid out of the parking lot in a cloud of exhaust.

I roll onto my back. A groan pushes up from my chest. My head, stomach and back pulse with pain. One word beats in my heart and spreads rapidly through my body and into my brain. This one thought rises above the physical pain. Katie.

That asshole took her.

My petty life is nothing compared to this. This feels bigger and deeper than I can even fathom. My father goes for the big cases. He goes for the win. That’s why he used me as bait to collect the dirt. Well, he has it now. I push up to my knees, coughing and spitting the blood. It splatters onto the ground, the dirt soaking it up, leaving only vague traces of the crime.

The keys to Jimmy’s car are still in my pocket. They dig into my skin. Every second I sit here is a second wasted, the time for helping Katie running past me, leaving me in the dust. If I go straight to my father and spill the entire story he might do nothing and let his private investigators look into it, but that could be too late. She needs help now. My father won’t give two fucks about an innocent girl I care about.

If I had known that this “internship” was really about baiting the bad guys, I would’ve pushed her away a long time ago. The knowledge that my father would sink this low and not think twice about putting me in this position drains my energy. I feel it deep in my bones. I can’t even pretend that he’s just too busy.
 

I professed for years that I didn’t care about my dad. But I do. I did anyway. A light sprinkling of rain hits my face as a wind whips through and sparks me to action. I stumble across the parking lot toward Jimmy’s car. My thoughts turn to Katie. All those innocent dates, sweet and fun, with her, wrap around me. I used her to improve my image. But somewhere throughout our time together I fell for her. I’d move the world for her. I don’t care about my safety anymore or my dad or his fucking case. I dragged Katie into this. I’m going to find her and kick Kingston’s ass. Whatever it takes.

I text Jimmy with Kingston’s address. I make sure he knows that if he doesn’t hear from me within an hour to call the cops. For the first time, I rely on someone else, because I might not be enough.

The roads are clear, just the stain of the recent rain left behind. The skies are dark but the weather holds back. The engine races and I grip the steering wheel, focused and trying to forget the throbbing pain in my gut and face. I screech around the corner and head into the wealthy part of town. No parking down the street this time. That asshole’s going to know I’m here for him.

The iron gates loom in front of me. The house beyond it rises large and dark into the sky. I press hard on the gas, revving the engine, pushing the car as fast as it will go.

“Sorry, Jimmy.”

His car will be totaled after this. I don’t waver. I go faster. It rushes toward me. No turning back. Slam! Jimmy’s car crashes into the fence. My body is thrown forward, my head banging against the wheel. The slow ache from the beating becomes sharp, not letting me forget.

In a haze of pain, I sit in shock that my plan worked. I couldn’t completely break through the fence but it moved, bent just enough for me to slip through. Smoke pours from the engine. The front is mangled, twisted pieces of bumper and the hood is shoved back into itself. I stumble to the trunk. It lifts with a creak.

Under the mat lies Jimmy’s stash. He doesn’t think I know about the gun he hides here. He doesn’t ask me about my business and I don’t ask him. That’s the way it’s always been. I tuck it into the back of my pants and then squeeze through the opening in the iron gates.

I sprint across the grass. I don’t even try to barge through the front door. With my elbow, I smash a side window. The glass shatters and falls around me. Alarms screech through the air. I climb through.

“Hey, dick head!” I shout into the house. The grandeur mocks me, taunting me that no one is here, that somehow I made a huge mistake. Sirens wail in the distance.

“Your time is running short.” My words soak into the walls and the carpet, muffled by the alarm, useless. Through the pain, my gut tells me I messed up. That asshole should’ve already appeared. I run straight to the stairs and take them two at a time. I smell traces of Katie’s body spray. Or is it my imagination?
 

“Where are you, coward?”

It’s hard to focus. Hard to think. I stumble into his bedroom. Kingston sits casually at his desk, rocking back, like some cocky king on his throne.

“Asshole,” I growl. “Where is she?”

He shrugs, a grin spreading across his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Everyone saw us. She left with no struggle. Since when is that a crime?”

I rush him. My body crashes into his, knocking him and the chair over. I grab his hair and slam his head against the floor. “Not so tough now without your goons. Are you?”

He doesn’t fight too hard. Just chuckles. He’s playing with me. I tear through his room, pulling everything apart. When I find nothing, I move to the rest of the house, sprinting room to room.
 

“You won’t find her here.”

I go after him again, hitting him with the butt of the gun. “Tell me where she is.”

He groans, his voice no longer pleasant, but the growl of someone who’s used to having the upper hand. “Enjoy your last moments of freedom.”
 

Everything blurs as uniforms flood the room. The cops shout and point their guns, the glare of their flashlights blinding me. Jimmy must’ve called. But then I hear Kingston’s chuckle beneath the shouted orders to drop my weapon. Holy shit. The guns are trained on me. One rushes and tackles me. He forces me face down and reads my rights as the cuffs go on.

Shit.

“It’s not me,” I stammer. My cheek is mashed into the carpet. “He’s got Katie.”
 

“You’ll have time to explain after a night in jail.” He jerks me to my feet.

“Search the house. This guy’s bad. He kidnapped my friend.”

He raises an eyebrow. “That’s a mighty big accusation coming from the one who’s assaulted an innocent citizen.”
 

I see Katie’s smile flash then slowly fade, her eyes growing dim. Then the image disappears. Lost. I know enough to be terrified. Instinct rushes and I slam my head against the cop’s nose. While he cries out, in that split second, I run.
 

Halfway down the stairs, I fall and tumble the last few steps. On my stomach, I try and get to my feet. The cold air seeping through the broken window teases me. Escape is so close. Katie’s counting on me.

A heavy hand grips my arm. “Enough, you little shit.”

The cop pushes me through the house and shoves me into the back of cruiser. His last words smack me in the face. “You’d better watch what you say about the senator’s son.”

I’m fucked.

The sirens wail and it doesn’t take long to drive to the police station. I collect any rational bit of evidence I have. My slurred words tumble out. I don’t even know if I’m making sense. “Kingston’s been harassing my friend, Katie. Tonight, at The Salty Dog, is the first time I saw it. But she didn’t want to go with him. Look at my face. His friends did this to me.”
 

For one second, the cop’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror. But other than a quick tightening of his hands on the steering wheel, he doesn’t seem to care.

“He must have her hidden somewhere. Katie never would’ve gone with him.” My words slowly trail off. “Please!” My voice cracks and I realize how completely and utterly I love her. Everything she does to me. Every smile she brings to me face, every thrill she sends through me has been me falling for her. “Please.”

I’m in a dark room. I’ve been here before. I recognize the feel of the thin mattress beneath me and the smell coming from the toilet. But worse, are the imaginary scenes running through my head. I can’t sleep but stare at the wall for hours. The blame steamrolls over me, crushing and paralyzing. She should’ve stayed in her private, unexciting life.
 

Footsteps echo and stop outside my temporary cell. “Chadwick.”

“Dad,” I spit out. Wait. Dad! He can help. I roll off and lurch to the bars. His ice-cold smirk stops me. “Dad?”
 

“I’m rather disappointed in you, Chadwick. I went out of my way to offer you a second chance.”

“You don’t understand.” I want to drop to my knees and beg for his help.

“I understand. You broke into a house, assaulted the senator’s son and an officer of the law. Then you made up accusations to justify it all.” His voice could cut glass. “Has this internship been a joke to you? You almost ruined it all.”
 

“You can take away all my money. Cut me out of your will. But Dad—” my hands slip through the bars and grab his shirt “—please, believe me. I did what you asked. Kingston is the bad guy. Your blueprints didn’t mention he was the senator’s son. He’s the one I’ve been tailing.” My voice breaks, a sob threatening to break through. “Please, find Katie before he hurts her.”
 

Dad jerks away. His face softens, almost with a look of regret, but then the mask falls back into place, the hard lines and cynical expression. “You’re officially fired from the internship.”
 

“I don’t care about me. But please, if you ever loved me, if you ever cared, please find Katie. She doesn’t deserve this.”

My father doesn’t respond but turns. His footsteps fade with each passing second. I stumble back and fall on the bed. Thoughts whirl. My father asked for my help. He gave me the address and blueprints for Kingston’s house. Did my dad suspect he was involved in drug running? He should be convincing the police to search the house. His work must take precedence so he won’t contaminate the case and admit his part in it.

The rest of the night passes. Every second a moment in hell. Every second I pray, desperately hope that Katie’s still alive. That someone up there heard me even though I don’t deserve it.

Chapter 10

Katie

My eyes adjust to the blackness of the storage room.
 
The shadowy shapes of the boxes spark questions I can’t answer. The unknown hovers in the room. I count the time by the drops of sweat trickling down my back. One. Two. Three…ninety-eight…two hundred. Time passes slowly. Every few seconds is a lifetime yet at the same time passes much too quickly, because eventually, the door is going to open. And as much as I want to leave this place, I fear what’s next.

A dull thump sounds on the other side of the door, a slight shuffling as if someone’s on the other side, deciding my fate. My chest squeezes, my lungs constricting. The air around me is thick and hard to breathe. I force the deep breaths in and out, resting on one tiny hope.

Chad. He’d never give up without trying to find me. And if no one listens to him, then there’s Justine. She knows I left with this guy. She saw me. She knows I didn’t want to dance with him. She must’ve seen Chad leave.
 

“Please,” I whisper.
Let Justine put it all together and contact the cops
.
Tell them what she saw
. Maybe with their combined stories, the cops will do something. Someone must know who this guy is and where he lives. I keep this hope alive for a while, but as my legs cramp and my neck stiffens, the fear seeps into my thoughts and hope slowly drains.

More time passes. I drift off, too exhausted to stay awake. A creak jars me awake. The door opens. A blinding light shines on me. A silhouette peers in and I can’t tell who it is.

“Help!” I croak, hoping, praying.

“Shut up,” he snarls. “Time to move. He throws me the blindfold. “Put this on.”

The blindfold, the same one I wore earlier, lies across my feet. My hands are cuffed, or has he forgotten? I don’t dare point that out.

“Shit. Climb out.”

I wiggle over, struggling to find my footing. His hand, rough on my arm, pulls me the rest of the way out. I see that it’s not a real room, but a hidden storage space in the back of his closet. He leaves the blindfold and waves a gun toward the door. “Move.”

Two large guys stand at the door, weapons attached to their sides. Their eyes hold that blank, unmoving expression of someone who follows orders and never makes a decision based on compassion or right and wrong.
 

“Fast!” His voice sounds different, a little higher-pitched. Maybe panic?

The goons push me down a hallway and the stairs. They use the butt of their guns in my back. I’m sure to send me a message—that they won’t hesitate to use it. I stumble outside, my legs weak and shaky. The rays of sun hit my face, the warmth spreading through me. The leaves tremble in the trees as the breeze whips through. It should be like any other day. I should be at the Inn or walking along the boardwalk.
 

A white van sits in the driveway. I get the feeling that if I step into it and let it drive away, then my life will be over.