Page 44 of Haze's Jewel
Vapor asks, “How are you holding up, brother?” His voice is calm, but I can detect the tinge of worry as well.
I grab my lightweight bulletproof vest and lock it into place around my torso before pulling my shirt back down to cover it. “I’m determined. That’s the best way to explain it. That fucking stepbrother of hers is dead meat though.”
“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that. Talk to Anna first, bro. You don’t want to do something that will make her hate you forever, right?”
“That goes without saying,” I respond as I tuck a gun into my boot holster and another into my SOB holster. I add a knife to my other boot and then cram some extra clips into my pockets before tossing my bag aside. I already have more clips in the storage compartment on my bike, but I don’t want to be caught short.
Evan grabs our bags as we empty them with a rueful grin on his face. “Good luck out there,” The wistful tone of his voice communicates very clearly to me that he’s never been in real firefight.
I jerk my chin at him and Hark, the two teens have apparently been tasked with helping us gear up and protecting the clubhouse after we leave. Hark isn’t prospecting for us yet, but he will, and he’s gonna make a fucking awesome brother. I know for a fact he has a genius level IQ and has spent his entire life learning everything there is to know about war and running an MC from his grandfather. Unlike Evan, he’s seen real trouble, which is probably why he’s looking concerned rather than envious, about what lies ahead.
Vapor, Tracker, and I march out to our bikes and pull out our phones to get our assignments and familiarize ourselves with the route. I’m jittery and worried about Anna. Only one thing keeps me from riding off right now and doing the job myself. And that’s the fact that we’re stronger together, than separate. Anna stands a better chance of survival when I show up with a multitude of club brothers at my back. I’ll do anything to get her back alive, even quell my own overpowering need to execute a solo mission to kick the shit out of those two assholes. Anna’s needs will always come first with me. Sucks for me right now, but I’m forcing myself to be the man she needs.
Chapter 18
Annalese
I can’t believe these two idiots shoved me back into the trunk and slammed the door. If Trevor thinks this is going to make me fall back in love with him by having me abducted, he’s crazier than he looks. And Greg thinks he rules the world now that dad’s not around to rein him in. The two of them think they can literally do anything they want and that pisses me off, big time.
I gave up on trying to find a way out of this trunk long ago. I even tried to kick out the taillights from the inside, hoping to stick my arms out to draw attention to the fact that I’ve been kidnapped. It didn’t budge. I have a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach that whoever they hired to grab me, is a professional. If so, this is probably a kill vehicle and as such, he’s welded those taillights into place and removed the emergency exit lever. This leaves me with a feeling that I’m not going to survive this situation, no matter what I do. The only good thing about my situation right now, is that Greg got the asshole who abducted me to take off the wrist ties. I guess they realized I wasn’t gonna fight back.
I move again and am both thrilled and ashamed when I hit my ass on the side of the trunk and feel my cell phone. That should have been the first thing I thought of once my hands were free. I pull it out and immediately turn the ringer down. Then I call Haze. Rather than getting a ringtone, I get a fast busy signal. Weird. That’s never happened to me. I dial the three-digit emergency services number. Again, all I get is a fast busy signal.
A chill creeps up my spine when I realize this fucker actually is a professional of sorts because he’s electronically blocked me from making outgoing calls. No wonder he didn’t search me for a cell phone. His little kill vehicle is equipped with features that enable him to do this kind of shit without being caught. Well fuck him, and the two morons who hired him. Those two have always had more money than sense.
Intent upon outsmarting them, I disable the lock screen and quickly type out a message telling Haze I’ve been abducted by my stepbrother and his best friend. I give as much information on them as possible, I describe my abductor and give a description of his kill vehicle. I remember to add that he said his name was Rick, just Rick. I doubt that’s his real name, but it might come up as an alias when they’re narrowing down possible perps. Then I hit send.
Hopefully, when I get out of this trunk it will automatically send as soon as it gets a signal. If not, then it will be waiting in the draft folder for whoever finds my phone.
Holding the phone close to my chest, I work out a plan in my head to get it into another person’s hands as soon as humanly possible when they let me out of the trunk. I might have to resort to dropping it on the ground for someone to find. I won’t let them kill me and ride off into the sunset to spend my father’s hard-earned cash.
I know all the way down to my bones that if I had been able to get word to Haze, then he would have come for me. Unfortunately, I didn’t have that opportunity, so no one is coming to save me.
As much as it pisses me off, I have to be smart. I can’t keep flying off the handle at Trevor and Greg. If they could play me all those years, making me believe that Trevor really loved me, maybe I can do the same to them? I wouldn’t say I’m a particularly good liar but when one’s life is on the line, it’s an incentive to at least try to beat them at their own game.
My mind goes to my poor mom, still at her rehab unit. She older and her medical problems were far more extensive than mine. The thought of her laying there, lonely and needing me tears at my heart. I draft a second text for her, where I pour all my feelings and love for her. Since this might end up being my last chance to communicate with her, I lay it all out. I remind her of our fun times and let her know that I appreciate how hard she worked to support me growing up. I want her to know how much I love her and what a great mom she was to me.
When I’m finished, I realize that I’m crying. I wish more than anything that my father had never met my stepmother. Not only did my father neglect me as a child after the divorce, but his new wife wouldn’t allow him to give us any more money when it was court ordered. We survived, but my mom had to work her ass off to make ends meet. I suspect all his wealth was locked in a trust and therefore didn’t count when calculating the child support he was ordered to pay. The unfairness of the situation my mother was put in still chafes me, even today.
And then there is Greg, my stepbrother. He carries my father’s last name only because he was adopted into my family. Yet somehow, he inherited all my father’s money. That was bad enough, but why come after me? It’s not like I was trying to get what I was owed. I just wanted to be free from them both. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how they found me. They must have harassed my mom or listened in on our phone calls. She would never intentionally disclose my location. With Greg’s money it wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t paid off one of the staff at the rehab facility. I feel certain they tricked, forced, or threatened her to get information on me. I don’t blame her because I know how the two of them are.
***
We travel for a while, maybe even long enough to get back to our hometown. Memories roll through my mind of neat tree-lined city streets. The gelato stand I used to frequent, as well at my old community college. My heart aches to remember all the things these two assholes have taken from me. We stop, and I hear him open the gas tank and the sound of fuel being pumped into the car. I begin banging on the trunk, hoping someone will notice and call the police. It takes me a few knocks to realize there is no metallic thump when I hit my fist on the trunk. This asshole has done something to mitigate the noise. My heart sinks all over again, as I struggle to cope with the fact that I’m not going to survive this abduction.
I think that I can smell fresh baked bread and remember there is a gas station in my hometown right beside a cracker factory. At certain intervals during the day, it smells like they are baking homemade bread rather than crackers. I have the strongest feeling Greg is taking me back to his house. Memories come flooding back of him tying my hands behind my back and locking me in one of the dingy basement rooms. I can see his smirking face and hear him daring me to tell anyone. He didn’t hurt me physically, but he enjoyed the power he had over me knowing I’d be too scared to tell my dad. Greg was the apple of his eye, the son he’d always wanted, and he’d not hear a bad word said against him. And like an idiot, I kept quiet, putting up with Greg’s cruelty just so I could remain close to my father.
I feel like I’m going to throw up when the car starts leisurely moving down the road again. After a while, I realize that we would have arrived already if he was taking me to his house. No, he’s taking me somewhere else. I can’t make calls or send messages, but my phone still has power and I realize we’ve been driving for almost two hours. The road starts to get bumpy, and we stop shortly thereafter.
Suddenly, the trunk is pulled open, and Trevor and Greg are standing there, staring down at me again.
Trevor laughs at the sight.
My stepbrother is smiling too, “Remind me to tell you all about how I used to lock her up in the basement when we were kids. She freaked out and cried every single time, just like she’s doing right now.”
Trevor seems gleeful at the prospect. Me? I didn’t even realize I was crying. One hand comes up automatically to wipe away the tears. I force my mouth to stay shut because anything I say or do could expedite my coming death.
Rick pulls me out of the trunk by the arm, hitting my legs on the rim of the trunk along the way. I hate this guy with the fire of a thousand suns. Once I’m on my feet, he grabs the cell phone out of my hands, drops it on the ground and stomps on it with the heel of his boot.