28. Missing Posters
Missing Posters
twenty-eight
S e v e n
"I've got her!" Eli screams, running over to us as we gather in the back of the bar, still trying to track down a lead on Emerson's whereabouts.
I look up from my laptop, my heart thundering against my ribs. "Where?" I ask, my shaky hands trying to rest on the keyboard.
"I don't know. She called me, though; it's still connected," he says winded, out of breath as he hands me his phone so I can start a trace on it.
Working diligently to find a ping that'll tell us where she's at. There's nothing but silence on the other end, but the call is still connected, so I focus even harder. While the program does its job to triangulate her location, I fiddle with my hands in my lap as everyone gathers around me and holds their breath.
"How fucking long does it take?" A frustrated Eli growls behind me as he paces with lead feet.
"Try to relax, brother. This shit takes time, but it'll work." I force a smile as I turn around to face him, trying hard to believe my own words.
"I'm finished with the missing posters," Ace speaks softly, his voice full of worry and concern.
"Just hold off. Let's see if we can find her with Seven's program."
The tension in the bar is heavy and palpable as we wait for any indication of Emerson's location. After what feels like an eternity, the program finally comes up with a result. "Got it!" I exclaim, relief flooding through me as I relay the coordinates to the rest of the group.
Without a moment to lose, we all spring into action, racing out of the bar and piling into our cars. We speed through the streets, following the directions provided by the GPS, until we finally reach a rundown apartment building deep in the ghetto of Southie.
"What the fuck is this place?" Parking the car at the curb, I look around, taking in the gloom of the desolate area, getting an unsettling chill along the curve of my spine.
"No fucking clue. This isn't where Damon lives." Eli pushes the passenger door open and hops out, making a beeline for the building as we all run to catch up behind him.
The building looms in front of us, dark and foreboding. As we make our way up the steps, I can feel the tension growing among us. We reach the top floor and stop in front of the apartment that the GPS coordinates led us to. Without a word, Eli kicks the door in, and we rush inside, our hearts pounding in our chests.
The apartment is empty, and a feeling of dread washes over me as I realize that we might be too late. We split up, searching every inch of the place, but there's no sign of Emerson.
Suddenly, Stone calls out from the other room. "Guys, you need to see this."
We all gather in the room, my breath catching in my throat as I see what's on the wall. It's a map, covered in red string and pictures, all connected in a web that leads to a single name written in the center: Emerson.
On the single bed, leather bindings dangle from the rusty posts, slowly swaying back and forth—we just missed her. My mind reels at the thought of what might've happened on the bed, and bile starts rising in my throat, burning the lining of my esophagus. As I roam my eyes around the room, I spot a light coming from underneath the bed. Crouching down, I reach my hand under the bedframe and feel around for the source. My hand hits an object, and I pull it out, my heart sinking to the fucking floor when I notice that it's Emerson's phone, still connected to the call with Eli. I stand up and end the call, reaching out to my best friend.
"Eli, look," I whisper, sadness coating my voice in an obvious way.
"Motherfucker!" Eli roars, kicking a wooden chair in front of him, on the verge of a severe breakdown. "Send out a mass text with the missing flyers you made of Em," he tells Ace, his eyes fixated on the wall of horror and mystery.
And then he bolts, running out of the room without as much as another glance behind him to see if we're following.
The rest of us all exchanged worried looks before hurrying after him, not willing to let him face whatever lies ahead alone. As we race down the stairs and out into the street, I can't shake the feeling of impending doom. My heart aches for my friend, and I can't imagine what he must be going through. It aches even more for Emerson, though. But we can't give up.
We reach the street just in time to see Eli jump into my car and speed off, leaving us in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes. Without a second thought, we all pile into the remaining vehicles and follow him, determined to find Emerson and bring her home.
The drive is a blur of anxiety and desperation; hope is quickly dwindling, and I can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on all of us. As we speed through the city's wet streets, I know that time is running out. But we won't stop until we find her, no matter what.
The sound of sirens fills the air as we race through the city, our hearts pounding in our chests. The minutes feel like hours as we scan the streets, looking for any sign of Emerson, but there is none that we can see.
Arriving back at the bar, we get out of the car to head back inside, our breath coming out in visible puffs in the cold night air. Eli is already out of the car and running towards the entrance. Ace and Stone run inside after him while Kane and I hang back, chain-smoking the fuck out of our Marlboros. He looks miserable, pain flitting across his face, but he doesn't talk about it. None of us talk about it.
Emerson being missing is fucking torture, eating me up on the inside because I feel like I let her down. I should've stopped her. I should've put more effort into stopping her before she left the fucking house, but I wasn't thinking that something like this would happen to her.
Leaning against the building, I hang my head in shame, my chest aching from the smoke infiltrating my lungs. This can't be fucking happening. I waited so fucking long to tell Emerson how I felt about her and things just started progressing, and now she's gone, and I'm terrified she isn't coming back.
My love for her is like the darkness that's followed me all of my life; it consumes every part of me in a delicious way.
It pierced my bones and weaved its way into my body.
It wrapped itself comfortably around my tortured soul and put life back into my dying heart. And although I can live without it—without her—I don't fucking want to.
Emerson is a part of me—the part that makes me a somewhat decent human being.
I'm a fucking addict for her love—her body—and a desperate fiend when I can't have her.
She does something to me that no one ever has, and I want her to keep doing it.
She fucking owns me—controls me—and she doesn't even fucking know it, but because it's Emerson, I'll give her every fucking part of me, and I'll do it without a second thought.
The sound of footsteps approaching pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up to see Kane standing in front of me, an expression of concern on his face. I forgot that he was even out here.
"You good, Seven?" he asks quietly, his voice a low rumble in the cold air.
I nod, unable to voice the storm of emotions raging inside of me. "Yeah, I'm good," I mutter, flicking the end of my cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out with my boot. "Let's get back inside."
"I promise, Sev, we're gonna find her," he assures me, trying so fucking hard to believe his own promise.
But I can see the doubt swirling in his dark eyes and a glint of fear lurking in his dilated pupils. Big and bad Kane is even fucking worried, which makes the worry coursing through me spread like a damn wildfire.
As we head back into the bar, I know that our search for Emerson is far from over. This is just the beginning of a long and dangerous journey, but I'll be damned if I let anything happen to her. I owe her that, and so much fucking more.
And I'll do whatever it fucking takes to bring her home, safe and sound, with me, with us... No matter the cost.
Back inside, we gather around the bar, the flickering neon lights casting an eerie glow over the grim faces of the guys. But in our eyes, I see determination and resilience.
As the rain picks back up, pelting against the bar's roof, and the night stretches on with the hours slipping away into oblivion, we carefully strategize and plan our next move. We'll leave no stone unturned, no lead left unexplored. The thought of Emerson out there, alone and in danger, is fucking unbearable—gut-wrenching, even.
But we won't give up fucking hope. She's out there somewhere, praying, and waiting for us to come save her... and that's exactly what we're gonna fucking do.