Meadowlarks 3 : Endless (11 page)

“I—I promise to never speak to Weston Casey ag-again.” I choked out the words between sobs. “I will n-never touch him again.”

“Or what?” she growled.

“You’ll kill me.” I wanted to wipe the tears that wear streaming down my face, but my hands were tied behind my back and I have a burlap bag over my head.

“That’s right, bitch. Dead. Over…Like, no fucking more.
Capiche
?”

I managed to nod without whimpering.

“Now, I’m not completely heartless, I’ll toss you out at the hospital. You need one. But I swear, if you talk, I’ll find you in a heartbeat.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

I don’t know what time it is, and I don’t even really know what day. Who knows how long I’ve been tied up on this hard chair with a bag over my head.

I can tell it’s night when she leads me outside. The air is cool, and goose bumps prickle all over my bare arms. I’m still in my dress. I don’t know where my shoes are.

“Get in,” she whispers and pushes my head down so I can fall into the car.

We drive for what seems like hours, finally the car slows and screeches to a stop.

“Get out. Don’t take that bag off until you hear me honk my car horn…And Leah? Don’t be fucking stupid.”

I clamber my free hands to find the release to get out. I fall to the pavement below me, and scrape my hands and knees on the rough surface. The pain isn’t even something I’m willing to register…I’m just thankful to be out and hopefully away from this lunatic.

“Shut the door, stupid.”

I reach up and slam the door shut just as the car screams away from me. I listen to the engine roar and as it gets farther and farther away, my heart races harder, waiting for the horn.

Finally it blasts and my fingers lift to my face, hesitant. What if this is a trick? What if there is someone waiting here? Ready to kill me? I don’t even know where the hell I am.

“Do it, Leah...you can do this…” I whisper to myself, gathering all of my courage.

I grab the bag and whip it off my head. The glare from the streetlights blind me. I haven’t seen light in a while. The next beautiful thing I lay my eyes on, is a giant illuminated
H
.

I’m at the hospital.

I throw the bag in a nearby garbage can and slowly make my way up to the emergency entrance. There is an ambulance parked near the doors, and just as I reach out to grab it before I faint, my knees give out and I fall.

***

“She’s lucky to be alive, Neil. Don’t go burning down New York just yet. Let the cops do their job.” Lucas’ voice grumbles softly over the quiet beeps of machines in the hospital room.

I slightly open my eyes to see Neil and Lucas standing at the foot of the bed, both with their arms crossed.

“Hi,” I whisper. My throat burns, and it’s painful to swallow.

“Leah! Holy shit. Let me get the doctor!” Lucas bounds out of the room without another word, and Neil rushes to my side and grabs my hand.

“Sweetheart, what the hell happened to you?” Neil’s eyes glisten in the low-lit room.

“I don’t know, Neil.”

“Who was it? Just tell me. I know people.”

“You
know
people?”

Neil smiles just a little. “Well, not really. But the boys and I will form a mob and find that motherfucker.”

“I don’t know who it was. What time is it?” I force the lie.

Neil looks at his watch then back to me. “Almost nine AM.”

“What’s the date?”

“September 27th. You’ve been gone for two days.”

“Miss Marshall, good to see you awake. I’m Felicia Allen, the attending doctor. I was here when you arrived. Do you remember anything?”

I nod. “I was dropped off, and then I fainted.”

Doctor Allen nods. “The police were just in the cafeteria, they’re on their way up to speak with you. A paramedic found you behind the ambulance. Luckily, too. You were so dehydrated, it wasn’t looking too good.”

The door slightly opens and a man followed by a woman come into the room. It’s suddenly feeling very tight in here. The man looks at Neil and Lucas, and without words, asks them to leave the room.

“We’ll be right outside, sweetheart,” Neil says before following Lucas out the door.

“I’m Detective Soloman,” the man says. “This is my partner, Detective Lin. How are you feeling, Leah?”

“Sore. Tired. A bit hungry.”

“I bet you are,” Detective Lin says, pushing her dark bangs out of her eyes. “You up for some questions?”

I nod. It’s now or never. I just need to think about how exactly I’m going to answer questions I’m vowed not to speak about.

“What time did you get dropped off at Times Square Studios?” Detective Soloman asks.

“Umm…I think it was almost six.”

He nods, looking down at a notepad.

“You already know that though…”

“I do. We’ve seen the footage.”

“What does it show?” I ask, nervously.

“Well, it shows you getting out of Mr. Field’s car, standing for a few seconds while looking at your cellphone. Tell me what happened next, Miss Marshall…” he prompts.

I swallow, and silently pray. “Someone grabbed me.”

“Very brazenly, too. I’ve never seen anything like it. You were right in front of the door…ten seconds after you were dragged off, Lucas Field came out to find you.”

“Unfortunately the video didn’t show anything as the person was wearing all black and had a hood on.”

“What did,” I almost said
she
. “The person use to knock me out?”

“Standard chloroform. Typical. You can get that shit anywhere. The cloth was left at the scene,” Detective Lin says shaking her head. “What happened after you were taken?”

“I remember coming to, and I had a bag over my head. It smelled bad. I felt it against my face. It was burlap. My hands were tied behind my back, and I was sitting on a chair.”

“Was the bag on your head the entire time?”

“Yes,” I whisper, looking down at my hands.

Detective Soloman sits on a chair beside my bed. “We can take a break, if you like, Leah.”

“No, I’m okay. Can I have some water though, please?”

“I’ll get you some,” Doctor Allen says.

I forgot she was even in the room. “Thank you.”

“What was said during the two days? There were no known ransom demands that we were aware of.” Soloman gets his pad and pen ready.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Detective Lin asks, seeming unsure of my answer.

I’m a bad liar. But I’m going to have to pull this off.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I was alone in a room. I didn’t hear anything and no one spoke to me. Then suddenly, I was being dragged out, put in a car and then I was dropped off here. When I heard the car speed away, I took the chance and removed the bag. Then I saw where I was…”

“We’re happy you’re okay. You’ve got a lot of people worried about you. News broke, and you’ll want to debrief with your people before speaking with any media outlet.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“We’re doing a full investigation, Leah. We will find out who did this to you…and why.” Detective Lin crosses her arms again. “Do you want us to put you in protective custody?”

“No. I’ll be okay. I just want to continue with my life. I don’t know why this happened, but I feel like it’s over. I don’t want to let it ruin my life.”

“You’re stronger than most, Leah.”

I smile. They have no idea how wrong they are. After a few more questions, the police leave and I’m joined by Neil and Lucas again.

“Want to cuddle?” Neil asks, smirking at me.

If my body didn’t hurt so much, I’d totally cuddle it up with him right now. I frown and slowly shake my head.

He smiles and soothes my hair with his big hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but I called your friend Riley. She’s on her way here with your mom.”

“Thank you,” I say. Even though I’m not sure what I can say to them, I just want to see their faces…and have a good cry.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Weston

“Fuck!” I yell, enraged. My hand smashes through the wall in the bedroom I’m staying in at Josh’s.

Why the hell couldn’t I go with Riley? As fucking if she said no. I don’t care about how long I’ve known Leah, I need to see her. I need to see that she’s okay. She was kidnapped for fuck’s sake.

“Oh, my…Ahh!” I growl in frustration and run my hands angrily through my hair, pulling the roots.

All the local news channels are showing anything and everything on Leah. The keep playing her music video, which is making me want to punch the television and hug it all at the same time.

“Here,” Josh says, handing me a glass half-filled with scotch.

That’ll do.

“Thanks.” I look up at Josh. “I punched a hole in the bedroom wall.”

Josh shrugs. “Been there.”

“Police are remaining tight-lipped about any details regarding Leah Marshall’s disappearance. Her representatives are following suit. Manager Lucas Field gave cameras a smile and a quick “she’s okay” before climbing into a car and leaving the hospital this morning. Fans have gathered outside of the building to pray for Marshall. If you have any information concerning this, police have set up a tip hotline…”

“Who the fuck would do this?” Josh says in a low tone. “I wonder what they did to her…”

I glare at him. They better not have fucking touched her. I don’t even want to think about that. I shudder and look back at the TV. Deciding that it’s only torture to watch it, I text Riley to find out information.

Me: How is she?

Riley: She’s OK…

I wish people wouldn’t say that. Of course she’s not okay.

Me: When can I see her?

Riley: I don’t know, Weston.

Me: Why don’t you know?

Riley: Just…let her go. Forget her.

OK? I’ll see you back in WY.

What the hell just happened?
Riley! Talk to me!

Riley doesn’t respond, and I let the phone drop from my hand onto the hardwood. Let Leah go? Not a chance.

***

Riley and her family flew back to Wyoming this morning. The police have surveillance footage from the Times Square building, although they don’t say what’s on it, Riley, Josh and I are all in the clear. As well as Leah’s manager Lucas and her bandmates.

I think I’ve dialed Leah’s phone number a thousand times, and listened to the electronic voice on the other end telling me that this number is no longer in service, suggesting I grow a brain and try my call again. I know she doesn’t have her phone, but something inside of me gets slight comfort just from seeing her name on my contact list. I slowly run my thumb over it one more time, trying to connect another unanswerable call.

“When are you flying out?” Josh asks, pulling me from my pout.

I answer without raising my head to look at him, my eyes still fixed on her name. “Eleven-forty. The office should be ready to go by the end of the week, so I’ll be back for good on Sunday.”

“Good, everyone at MP can’t wait to see you around the office. If it helps at all, there are a few cute interns who just started yesterday.”

It doesn’t help. Not anymore. “Can’t wait to meet them.” I manage a fake smile.

“Alright, buddy…I’m heading out. Are you gonna be okay?”

I let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thanks for putting up with my shit, Josh. You’re a good friend. I think I might go to the gym before I leave, and let off some steam.”

“Here,” Josh says, rifling through his pocket. “Take this, it’s my card to get into the gym in the basement of this building.” He looks over at the clock. “If you leave soon, there should be a group of hotties starting a yoga class at nine-thirty.”

My smile doesn’t come out forced this time, and I take the plastic card from Josh. “Have a good day at the office,
Joshy
.”

“Will do, darlin’…” Josh says in a voice lower than his own, straightening his tie and puffing out his chest. “See you Sunday.”

I nod and salute with the card between my fingers.

The gym is pretty much barren except for two other men working out near the bench press. I walk around, stretching before I climb onto the treadmill. Pushing some buttons, the track starts to move, and my feet follow the pace.

Plugging in my iPod, selecting Shuffle, I listen to some old AC/DC while increasing the speed on the machine. Faster and faster I run, my feet pounding the track. I raise the bar once more, pushing past my norm and into a whole new level. My knees are burning and my chest feels tight, but I don’t want to stop. I want to feel the hurt, even if it doesn’t match how shitty I feel everywhere else.

What did Leah go through when she was gone? What did they say to her? What did they
do
to her? Faster, harder, stronger. I start panting as the beads of sweat pour off my forehead and trickle down my face and chest.

Just as the song changes, the yoga group enters the gym, noticing me right away. A few smirks and grins from the women—who are yes, hot—and I think they deliberately set up their session right in view of the row of treadmills.

My heart slams against my chest, signaling me that I’m either going to die at any moment when it fails, or my brain has tuned in with the rest of my body and realized that South of Marshall is now playing over my iPod. I downloaded their music while sitting in full melancholy watching all the new coverage on her disappearance.

The fast country beat keeps my legs moving, and Leah’s sweet voice trickles into my head and through my body.

“I’m mesmerized by you baby, you got me in your grip.

I thirst for you baby, and not just for a sip…”

I can’t. No. Not anymore. Yanking out my earbuds, slowly decline my insanity and jump off the machine. Walking briskly away from it, and the yoga group that keep staring and whispering—damn you, downward dog—I grab a folded towel and wipe my face and chest.