Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
ABBY
Two weeks later
Iheard something.
A muddled choir of gibberish. Broken, fractured sounds. I felt like I was deep underwater. Drowning, spinning, flailing.
Voices.
Gargled and clipped.
I’d named the man Cappy—due to the raggedy baseball cap that shielded his eyes from me—and he hadn’t been back in five days.
He had left me here to die, to starve to death.
To wither, wilt, and rot away. It wasn’t the way I had anticipated going.
My captor had threatened me every day since the day I’d been locked up in my new prison, so I knew I was going to die… but not like this.
Never like this.
Cappy was sometimes calm, sometimes wrathful, but his words of warning never faltered.
“Tomorrow you will die, Little Bird.”
Each day—each agonizing, dragging day—I would wait. I had no other choice but to wait. I would wait for him to come back to me, and in some twisted way, I would look forward to his arrival.
He was my only source of human contact; my tether to life. If he didn’t come back, I would fade. Somehow, that seemed worse than being shot, stabbed, or strangled. Feeling the life slowly drain out of me was undoubtedly more horrifying than anything else I could imagine. And oh, I imagined.
I imagined awful, painful things.
But this was worse.
Cappy wouldn’t say much to me, though he often talked to himself.
He spent most of our time together working up the courage to kill me.
It was a strange feeling, observing my kidnapper talking himself into murdering me.
It was terrifying. And yet, there were moments when I had begged him to just do it.
To get it over with. To put an end to my suffering and unknowns. It would be easier that way.
He never could.
Sometimes he would become angry with himself, furious that he was unable to snuff out my life.
He’d beat me, instead. My last beating had been five days ago when Cappy had given me water and a few slices of deli meat before disappearing for good.
I had devoured the meager meal with voracity, unsure if I’d ever taste salt on my tongue again.
At first, I was grateful for it, but then I’d wondered if he had only been prolonging my life so I would suffer longer.
Abigail.
There was that voice again. Somebody was saying my name. It didn’t sound like Cappy, but I couldn’t be certain. I couldn’t be certain of anything.
Knock twice if you’re in there, Abby.
Was this a delusion? I’d had many of those. My parents had been by my side, feeding me soup and assuring me that I’d be well enough to go to school tomorrow. The mirage had faded as quickly as it had appeared, and I had crumpled into tormented sobs.
I tried to say something, but only a wretched squeak passed through my lips.
Knock twice.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I lifted one of my hands, even though it felt like it was being weighed down by a boulder. I found an ounce of strength and tapped my knuckles against the steel siding.
Once. Twice.
The next few minutes were a blur as I lay slumped over and shackled to the floor, waiting for whatever happened next.
When the two double doors exploded open, I squeezed my eyes shut.
There was a blazing spotlight shining on me, confusing me, blinding me.
It singed my fragile irises. For a quick, harrowing moment, I missed the darkness.
Footsteps.
There were footfalls approaching me. Careful and deliberate. I curled my body into a tight ball.
“Abby.”
That voice. I recognized that voice. It embraced me like a tender hug, and I instinctively relaxed. I wanted to open my eyes and see his face, but I couldn’t. The light was too bright, too much.
“Abby. It’s Officer McAllister with the Crow’s Peak Police Department. You’re safe now.”
His words sounded far away, but I felt his presence. I felt his lifeforce radiating into me, making me warm again. I tried to reply but nothing came out.
“Are you with me, Abby?”
I couldn’t speak.
Could hardly breathe.
So I knocked twice.
Cooper
Oh, hell.
My knees hit the flooring of the van, and I cradled Abby’s head in my lap as Officer Holmes cut through her ankle chains with bolt cutters.
I ran my hands through her dirty hair, feeling her shake and tremble against my touch.
“It’s okay. You’re okay now.” There was a sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach, mingling with unrivaled relief.
Every breath she took was a second chance.
Every quiver was a respite. Every blink was a thank God. “Is he still here, Abby? Is he armed?”
Officer Kravitz poked his head in. “All clear!”
The bastard got away.
The moment Abby’s ankles were freed and the ropes around her wrists were cut loose, I scooped her up into my arms and stood. It felt like one of those slow-motion, cinematic moments as I carried her out of the van, my fellow officers watching with both shock and awe.
I glanced down at her face. Colorful bruises painted her eyes and cheekbones. Her lips were chapped and tinged purple, cheeks blanched and hollow. She was so frail, so unlike the vivacious woman I had met two weeks ago.
Abby’s eyelids fluttered then snapped shut, rejecting the sunlight. She tried again, squinting thoughtfully, trying to read me. Her brows creased together as she stared, her body lying limp in my arms. “It’s you.”
It’s me.
I never thought I’d see her again. As I pulled her closer to my chest while we approached the ambulance, Abby found enough strength to wrap her arms around my neck. The gesture soothed me.
A gurney was waiting for us across the wetlands as I traipsed through the sedges and tall grass.
My gaze lowered to the woman I was carrying, and she blinked up at me, her own eyes finally adjusting to the light of day.
“We’re going to get you to the hospital,” I told her gently, watching as new emotions danced across her fragile features.
Abby clung harder when I tried to release her. “No. Don’t leave me.” Her voice was raspy and desperate. She squeezed tighter. “Please.”
Jesus.
My insides swelled with something heavy. “You’re safe,” I said. “I promise.”
“No, no, no.” Abby dug her fingernails into the back of my neck, burrowing her face against the crook of my armpit. Her body was tense, her grip unrelenting. “Don’t let me go.”
James was at my side, attempting to untangle her from my arms. “You’re in good hands, Miss Stone. Officer McAllister will meet you at the hospital shortly.”
“No!”
James, along with one of the EMT’s, peeled the traumatized woman out of my grip as I watched helplessly. Goddamn, it was hard. Her eyes were wild and panicked as they lowered her onto the gurney and strapped her in. I linked my fingers behind my head, my jaw clenching as I drank in her fear.
She needed me. Abby needed me.
I was likely the first face she’d seen after two weeks of being some madman’s prisoner. I was, essentially, her hero. Blowing out a breath, I found solace in the notion that she was safe as they wheeled her into the ambulance and the doors closed her in.
My attention panned left, landing on my partner. “Sorry,” I muttered, clearing the gravel from my throat. “I froze up.”
James reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “They don’t train you for this shit. They couldn’t.” His gaze lingered, firm and poignant, before he turned toward his patrol car.
The ambulance lit up and pulled away from the isolated marsh as my team continued to examine the van. I followed James, my focus still fixed on the ambulance. My arms still holding on to her. The sirens echoed through me, vibrating with the memory of her cries.
My partner was absolutely right.
There was no training in the world that could prepare me for Abigail Stone.
“Where is she?”
Daphne raced through the hospital waiting room, her high heels clicking against the tile floor as she approached the main desk.
I tossed my empty coffee cup into the trash can when I spotted her. “She’s stable,” I said, sauntering over to the frazzled redhead. “She has a long road ahead.”
She raised a hand to her heart, bunching the fabric of her pantsuit between her fist. “My God. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe any of this.” She collapsed into a nearby chair and clutched her purse. “Did you catch the bastard who did this to her?”
My headshake was pure disappointment as I ruffled my messy hair. Whoever had kidnapped and tortured Abby either abandoned the van and his victim, or he’d conveniently been absent during the search and rescue. “No, but we will.”
“How can you be sure?” she asked, eyes incredulous.
My mind flashed to the moment those van doors swung open and I saw her.
The sun had casted such a cheerful light upon her, a beacon of hope.
A promise of brighter days ahead. Abby had survived.
And yet, her body had laid crumpled, her spirit shattered.
She had survived, but she was far from alive.
Someone would pay for that. “Because it’s my job,” I told her, my tone unshakeable.
Resolute. “I won’t stop until I find him. ”
Daphne softened and lowered her gaze. “She’s been through so much, you know? Losing her parents, her grandma. Her brother skipping out on her, her boyfriend cheating on her…I mean, how much can one person suffer? It doesn’t seem fair.”
Fair.
What a ridiculous word. What a falsity.
There was no “fair” in my line of work.
“Officer McAllister?”
I turned around to find a raven-haired woman in scrubs nodding at me, beckoning me to follow. She led me down the hospital corridor, then paused when we reached a quieter location. I crossed my arms and waited.
“I’m Doctor Everett,” she greeted, holding a clipboard to her chest. “Miss Stone is responding well to treatment and is expected to make a full recovery. She’s been through a hell of a lot.”
My eyes darted to one of the closed curtains across from them. “Is she awake?”