The Devastatingly Beautiful Series (24 page)

7

Tatum

I have all of the Delany files in front of me. I’m going on about forty minutes of sleep, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. Ever since she was taken I haven’t had a full night’s sleep. I’m starting to get used to the sleepless nights and hauntingly lonely days. Eddie is only good for so many things. I miss her body and the way it curled into me when we were sleeping. I miss her toes and how unbelievably cold they were every night we crawled into bed. Hell, I even miss her morning breath. All of the things that couples complain about, I miss.

Eddie hasn’t let me see the picture that was sent while I was in Florida. He told me it’s for my own good. I’m not sure how the fuck he thinks that, but he hid it and I haven’t found it yet. To be honest, I haven’t been trying very hard to find it. I am curious, but I know that seeing it may alter my perception of things. I know what Robert is doing, it’s all a game for him. He’s trying to make me stop looking for her, and he thinks that by sending me pictures of him fucking a red-headed chick is going to make me believe that my Molly would have sex with him, he’s dead wrong. She wouldn’t do that. That’s not the woman I love. Right?

We found the trail of money leading to a bank account of someone by the name of S.T. Lee. Each week money from the three Delany accounts is transferred to this S.T. Lee account, then quickly withdrawn. Unfortunately we can’t track where it goes once it’s cashed out, and every week the bank account is cashed out to damn near empty. The one thing we do know, however, is that this is all happening in Maine. I’m hopping a fucking flight again, and this time I’m not coming home until I have her.

Eddie is coming with me this time, so I’ve been waiting an hour for him to pack up the necessities he will need to set up a command station in the hotel. My leg won’t stop bouncing and I’m about to blow my top if he doesn’t hurry up.

“Dude, let’s go!” I yell upstairs. I can’t get to her fast enough.

By the looks of the paperwork, the last three weeks have seen an influx of money coming into the account. Eddie said that normally means a move is coming, my father agreed with him. I’m not sure what this means, only that we need to get to Maine, and fast. If I miss finding her because we weren’t thorough enough to find this connection earlier I won’t be able to live with myself.

***

A few hours later the plane touches down in Maine. I’ve heard it’s supposed to be pretty here, but I’m not focused on my surroundings right now. The only thing I want is Molly. Then, once I’ve found her, I plan on giving Mr. Delany a piece of my mind. And fist.

Once we check into the hotel, using fake names in case he has eyes and ears everywhere, we lock the door and get to work setting up Eddie’s stations. From here he should be able to locate the bank that’s being used for the money transfers. He should also be able to infiltrate the bank’s system to see if there is an address linked to the account. It’s all incredibly illegal, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. What Robert Delany is doing is more illegal. He stole the woman I love out of my life, kidnapped her, and is keeping her held hostage somewhere in Maine. I know it, I feel it. I know she’s close.

Two hours pass and Eddie is still trying to get information. I’ve been pacing our suite the entire time, not saying a word to anyone. I’m not sure how Eddie does whatever he does, but he’s damn good. I just need to be patient. I know he will find her. He has to. If he finds her I will owe him with my life. It’s been about seven hours since we found the connection in the bank statements but we’ve been at a stall ever since. I keep glancing out of our first floor window, thinking that maybe she will walk by. Maybe I’ll find her by chance. It doesn’t happen, though. Nothing is ever that easy.

My father calls a few times, giving us updates on all of the dead ends they have been following. The good news is that this is definitely not stemming from the situation that happened to Molly in Washington, as my dad has been following those men for the past few months and they are currently in their own set of troubles. Apparently the money that Brian took meant more to them than we thought and there is still bad blood between some of the gangs up there due to the still missing money. I wish we knew where it was, but Molly is adamant that she never knew. I pray that they leave her alone, though, now that Brian is actually dead. The last thing we need is another danger coming for us.

“Got it! Six blocks away. Address matches a Delany property owned by a Deloris Delany, died in 2009. Let’s move!” Eddie shouts from the front of the hotel suite.
My God he did it
. I run to the car, not even making sure he is in step behind me. My heart is pounding and the only thing I can think of is her face. I’m ready for her. I’m coming, Molly.

8

Molly

I take as long as I can getting dressed. I keep thinking to myself that maybe I’ll be saved before we’re able to leave this awful place. I know it’s just wishful thinking, but I can’t help my mind from thinking it. Slowly I button up the shirt that was given to me, taking my time with this tedious task. At least he got me women’s clothes to wear out in public. Granted, it’s long sleeves and long pants in the middle of summer, but at least I don’t have to wear his clothes. The man is evil, but he’s not stupid. He’s not going to let on to the fact that he is a woman abuser.

I finish up the shirt, pull the pants on, and slide my feet in the sandals. Taking a deep breath I start to leave the room, but pause. If we really are leaving, there will be no one here for a very long time. I’ve heard him talking about how long this house sat empty before we arrived. Racing to the dresser, I grab a pen and paper and scrawl a fast and short note.

I still love you. I still dream about you. Even though you moved on, I will always be yours. -M

I pray, to a God that I’m not sure even cares about me anymore, that the next person that reads that note is my Tatum. My Tatum, the man who I fell in love with when I never thought I’d be able to trust again. The man who I still think about every day. Even though he moved on, I will always love him. I choke down tears that threaten to fall. These past two months have hardened me. I miss him like crazy, but now that Rob has had sex with me, Tatum isn’t going to want me back even if he hasn’t moved on. I’m damaged goods. More damaged than before. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is repulsed by me. The words keep replaying in my head.
‘He’s not coming, Molly. He’s moved on’
. I don’t want to think about Tatum with another woman, but it was bound to happen. He said he loved me, but he never came for me.

I hear Rob yell from downstairs and slowly begin my descent down the stairs. Passing the front door, wide open, a thought occurs. If I run, he won’t even know it. I could be gone by the time he knows I’ve left. Suddenly his hand grabs mine and he pulls me with him out the front door. Enough for that plan, I guess.

Once we’re outside I take in everything I can see. Well-manicured lawn, three story brick house, longer curvy driveway. The street that the house is on can’t have been a busy street because I haven’t heard much traffic in the last few months. This is just a typical rich home. He starts walking to the car at the end of the driveway but pauses halfway down the walk. My heartbeat speeds up as he pushes me behind him and looks around the property. There’s a noise in the bush at the front of the house and Rob looks ready to attack. He starts to back me towards the door but I resist. I haven’t left this house in two months, and now that I’m out I don’t ever want to go back inside. I take the opportunity when his hand falls off of me and without thinking I start to run. I’m in sandals, but I don’t care. I run as fast as my feet will take me.

I’m not fast enough, though. I hear him behind me. He’s not yelling, but he’s gaining on me. I don’t turn and look, I just keep going. Hoping I can get to traffic where there will be plenty of witnesses before he gets me, I run for my life. If he catches me I’m good as dead. Hell, I opened a window one day because I wanted fresh air and he left me with a black eye and bruised back. Lessons are learned fast when pain is involved.

About five feet from the turn of the driveway, he slams into me from behind. It’s as if he threw himself on me, all his body weight slams me into the drive and I lose my breath. Before I go down I thought I noticed movement coming from the bushes. My head hits the concrete before my hands can catch me. Shit that hurts! He presses my head to the concrete and keeps cursing at me. I can’t see, my vision is blurry, and every part of my body hurts from the fall. I try to get up a few times, a massive struggle, but his weight is so heavy I can’t move.

Suddenly, as fast as it happened, the weight is gone. It takes me a minute to collect myself and force my arms to lift my body up off the ground. I slowly turn to look where he went, waiting for another hit from him. If I’ve learned anything in the last month since he started hitting me, it’s that if I prepare for a hit, it doesn’t hurt as bad as when I am unprepared for one. The force never comes, though. Looking around, I notice two figures in the grass next to the driveway. I’m still a little blurry, but it looks like one of beating the shit out of the other one. I hear bones crunching, grunts, and see the blood flying. Before I’m able to focus on what I’m watching someone comes from behind me and grabs me under my arms.

“Quick, let’s go,” the voice says. He stays behind me, leading me towards a car parked across the street. There are a few gunshots behind me, I hear people yelling now, but I keep moving. Anywhere is better than back at that house. My heart is racing, and I should be worried about who I am leaving with, but I’m not. No one can be as bad as Robert Delany.

The man that pulled me to the car is about the same build as Tatum, strong jaw, buzzed hair, and tattoos covering everything I can see from the neck down. He’s gentle while putting me in the car, but it turns to urgency when people start racing towards us. He climbs in and gets away right before the men coming after me can get to us.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m finally free! He can’t hurt me anymore! I’m safe… but I’m in a car with a total stranger! I don’t know his name, I don’t know where we are going, and now I worry more than ever that I’m never going to be free. What if this man is a killer? What if he is worse than Rob? The thoughts start to swirl and I start to breathe heavier and heavier. At least with Rob, Tatum knew who had me... or at least I hoped he did. With a stranger like this, no one knows where to look. As if the driver senses my worried thoughts, he speaks up.

“I’m Eddie. You don’t need to be afraid, Molly. You’re safe now.” He says in a very smooth baritone voice. Why does that name sound so familiar, and why do I feel like I’ve heard his voice before?

“How do you know my name?” I ask.

“Ah. Well, Oh where to start...” I can tell he’s torn as to what he’s going to tell me. He seems a little jittery, actually. Nervous. “Let’s just say we have a few friends in common...” he trails off, focusing on the road and periodically checking his phone. Something I usually would have condoned, but I’m just happy I’m safe with him.  I can tell that’s about all I’m going to get from him, though, as he grows silent for the remainder of our short trip.

He takes me to a hotel just a few minutes away from where he picked me up from, still very on edge from what happened and obsessed with his phone. He’s probably checked it twenty times in the short drive to the hotel.

Amazingly, I still don’t know where I am. When I was taken, I panicked and blacked out. When I woke up I was on a plane, hands and feet tied, mouth gagged. When I got put in the car for the drive they covered my eyes. It was all so secret. Even to the point of restricting me to certain rooms once he let me out of the basement.

I have no clue where I am, and though it should scare the piss out of me that I could be in some country on the other side of the world, all I can feel is peace that I’m finally out of the clutches of Robert Delany.

Once we get inside the room my mind is spinning. I want to find him and torture him for what he did to me. Awful things cross my mind, pain that I would enjoy bringing him. Different ways of evil torture are swimming through my head. I walk into the bathroom and close the door. It’s funny. I’ve been alone for two months. Solitary confinement for half of that. All I want to do now, though, is be by myself. If I can’t have Tatum, I don’t want anyone. I want the easy conversation back, I want the feeling of comfort, I want it all. Only I want it with the one person I can’t have anymore. I slide down the wall and hug my knees. The tears start to roll and this time I’m not even going to try to keep them away. For two month’s I’ve been strong. I haven’t cried when he hit me, I didn’t cry a tear in that basement, but now in the safety of this bathroom I let it all out. A soft knock on the door makes me lift my head from its current resting spot.

“Yes,” I manage to say, almost in a whisper.

“You ok in there?” His voice sounds worried. I’m not sure why. I still don’t know who this guy is or what his story is. All I know is that he saved me from the hell I was living in. For that I owe him my life.

“Yea, I’m good. I’ll be out in a minute.” Standing up, I gather my thoughts as quickly as I can. What I know is that I’m in a hotel with a stranger. I no longer am with Rob. He can no longer hurt me. I still don’t know where exactly I am, but I plan on finding out everything I can.

I walk out of the bathroom just as he’s coming back into the room from what looks like an adjoining room. He shuts the door tight behind him and watches me walk across the room to sit on the oversized chair by the window. The people outside are walking by without a care in the world and I’m here, waiting for everything to fall apart again.

“Who are you?” I finally ask him.

“I’m Eddie.” He hasn’t moved from his spot by the door. He’s leaning against the door frame, watching me like he’s afraid to spook me. His phone buzzes and he looks at the screen. His shoulders visibly release the tension they had been holding as he types furiously back to whomever it was that texted him.

“Right, that’s been established.” I roll my eyes. “What I meant was, how did you know what was going on back there?”

He sighed, then walked towards me. I could tell he was mentally cataloguing everything he saw on me. Some bruises have faded, and Rob tried mostly to keep it off the face though he didn’t succeed, but I know I look rough.  On top of the regular bruises, I also had a massive bump on my head from the fall. I needed a shower, but I didn’t have any clean clothes and didn’t want to make things even weirder that they already were.

“You look pretty rough. Wanna talk about it?” Of course he would completely ignore my question. It as if he really doesn’t want me knowing anything about him.

“Not really.” I manage, and turn to look back out the window.

“You know, when I was a kid my dad used to beat my mom.” He said quietly as he sank into the chair across from me. “Every night she would get it for something. Dinner wasn’t hot enough, dinner was too hot. Once it was because it was raining his entire drive home…like she could control it!” I’m not sure why he’s telling me this, but I listen all the same.

“She never spoke of it to her friends. He was always ‘good’ with not bruising up her face, so no one knew. One day, when I was about eight, I came home with my older sister after school to find her. She was dead. The note apologized to me and my sister for being a terrible mom.” I gasped as he talked about this tragedy like he wasn’t involved in it. There is no emotion in his voice when talking about this, and I’m at a loss for words. I look up at him and our eyes meet.

“You seem like a nice girl. Whatever happened to you, you need to talk about it. To someone. It will eat you alive, just like it did my mom. I don’t want to see you end up like her.” He said with the most compassion I’ve ever heard come out of a stranger.

I don’t know what the future holds, but that was the strangest uplifting speech ever. I nod at him, give him a weak smile, and turn back to the window. I’m not ready to talk, yet.