Eli31
Eli
Twenty minutes. That's how long ago Rowan texted to say he was leaving the school. It should've taken ten. Maybe fifteen if he stopped to stare at somebody's gaudy Christmas decorations.
But twenty?
I tried to keep it in perspective. He could've gotten caught up talking to someone.
Another teacher, maybe a parent. He once told me about a kid with a head of curls who sometimes followed him around like his shadow.
Rowan might be introverted, but he did like to talk to people, and he could get sidetracked easily when he was around someone he felt comfortable with.
Still, I stayed near the window to watch for him. Just in case.
After thirty minutes, I still didn't see him coming down the road. I pulled out my phone to call him. It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Straight to voicemail.
I hung up and tried again. Same thing.
Okay... He could've dropped his phone somewhere. Or maybe forgot it at his desk.
I threw my coat back on and left the flat. As I stepped out onto the street, I told myself I'd meet him halfway back, probably find him chatting with somebody he hadn't seen in a while. I'd give him shit for it – playful, of course. Tell him he really did almost make me send out a search party.
But the knot in my gut wouldn't go away. Something felt off. Rowan could be forgetful at times, but he wasn't careless. If he had stopped for any reason, he'd have let me know so I wouldn't worry.
My nerves spiked when I turned the corner and still didn't see him. I pulled out my phone and tried calling again, more out of restlessness than anything else. It started to ring.
And this time, I heard it.
It was faint and muffled, but the unmistakable buzz of his ringtone cut through the quiet.
I slowed and turned toward the sound as it came again, a little clearer this time.
It was close. I crossed to the other side of the road, scanning the ground until I spotted something tucked just under the edge of a bush near the pavement.
Rowan’s phone.
I crouched to pick it up. The case was chipped along one corner, and the screen sported a spider web of fresh cracks. It must’ve hit the ground hard.
My stomach sank.
I stood up slowly and glanced around now with sharper eyes. I suddenly became very aware of how empty the street was. No movement. No voices. Just the distant hum of traffic from the main street and the quiet rustle of wind through bare branches.
Then I spotted it – about a metre off the kerb, just past the edge of the pavement. A messy streak of red stood out against the concrete.
It looked like blood. The thought made me sick.
But when I got closer, I realised it was too bright. The colour almost looked fluorescent in the dimming afternoon light.
It was Farbgel. Not blood
I should've felt better about that, but it just made my heart pound harder. Rowan used the Farbgel. He wouldn't have unless he had to... Which meant Marcus was here. And if Marcus was here, if Rowan's phone was on the ground and there was no sign of him now...
That bastard had been lurking all this time, just waiting for a chance to get to Rowan. And I handed it to him. I fucking handed it to him.
I should've listened to my gut. I should've walked with him no matter how solid Rowan sounded. I told myself he needed the independence. He deserved it after all this shit. But it didn't mean I had to let him go alone. Not when I knew Marcus wasn't finished.
God, what the fuck was I thinking?
My eyes darted in every direction, desperate to be proven wrong. Rowan could still show up out of nowhere, muttering about losing track of time or stopping to talk to somebody. But nothing changed.
I didn't know where Marcus could've taken him. I didn't know what direction they went. All I knew was that Rowan was gone.
I dragged a shaky breath through my nose and tried to get my thoughts in order. I couldn't track them. I had nothing to go on. No camera feed. No vehicle. No idea where Marcus even lived.
My grip tightened around Rowan's phone. I needed to call the police. They had guys trained for this kind of thing, right? For missing people. Assaults. Whatever the hell this counted as. Kidnapping?
Jesus. This was actually happening.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out in time to see the screen light up with a name I hadn't seen in weeks.
Bin Fire.
I swiped the text alert open with more force than necessary.
Lose something?
I knew it would be playing into his game, but I sent back an immediate reply: Where is he?
The typing bubbles appeared within a few seconds. My hands started to quiver while I waited, praying the response would give me something to act on.
All I got was: Clock's ticking, Elias. Better hurry.
I glared at the words. He was messing with me. I could feel his arrogance through the screen.
But I couldn't do anything. I had nothing to trace and no threat to follow. The seconds started to drag, and I started to pace. My mind whirled with every possibility I didn't want to consider, but I tried to force my thoughts to focus.
Then the screen lit up again. Incoming call this time. I answered immediately.
Marcus's voice slithered through, calm but laced with mockery and a sick kind of enjoyment. "I told ya, Elias. Clock's tickin'. I'm startin' to think you don't actually care that much."
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles ached. I fought to keep my voice level so he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing how close I was to snapping. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"
"He's still in one piece. For now. But if you want to keep it that way, ya better start movin'."
I fought against the spike of nausea that tried to rise in my throat. My thoughts spun through every angle, every way to stall or dig for something I could use. But it didn't take a genius to figure out what this was. He didn't just want to scare us anymore. He was serious now.
I pushed the words out flat and steady. "What do you want?"
"We're at the rec. You know where the graffiti wall is, yeah?"
I knew this was a bad idea. That wall was pretty well hidden from the street, and the park was quiet this time of year. If anything happened, it would be a little while before anyone knew. But what choice did I have?
I opened my mouth to speak, but Marcus cut me off.
"And don't be stupid, Elias. If I see any coppers or you try anythin' clever, Rowan won't make it to sunrise."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone. My pulse thudded in my ears, and for a moment, I couldn't make myself move. Couldn't think past the fact that Marcus had him and I had no idea what condition Rowan was in. Or how much time I had to fix this.
It would take me at least twenty minutes to get to the park. Maybe a little less if I walked fast and didn't stop. I finally started to move, my feet hitting the pavement as I shoved the phone back into my pocket.
Every logical part of me screamed that I should phone the police. They had training and tools I didn't have. But Marcus wasn't bluffing. I heard it in his voice. He would do something if I didn't show up the way he wanted.
I walked faster, cutting through side streets and lawns I had no business being on just to try to shave off a minute or two and get there faster.
What was I even walking into? Obviously, this was a trap, but how was I supposed to handle it?
I had no plan. No backup. Nothing but fury in my chest and Rowan's phone in my pocket.
Maybe I'd lost the plot completely to go into this with no clue what I was doing. But if Marcus had him, if he'd laid a hand on him again, then I didn't care how reckless this was. I was getting Rowan back. Or I was going down swinging.
I was out of breath by the time the road into the park came into view. My legs burned and my lungs stung from the exertion, but I couldn't stop until I reached the treeline. I stumbled off the pavement and leaned against the nearest trunk, trying to get enough air in my chest to think straight.
I was close. Too close to waste time. But the second I paused, the reality of it all finally sank in.
Every decision up to now had been instinct. Just move, just get there, just find him. But the walk gave my brain time to catch up, and now all I could think about was everything that could go wrong. If Marcus was spiralling, he had nothing left to lose.
I might not get out of this. Rowan might not, either.
And if I went in alone and something happened, no one would know where we were. There'd be no one to send help. No one to stop him.
Marcus said no police. He said not to be stupid. But not calling them had been a stupid move. He'd gotten under my skin just enough to mess with my judgment.
Once I could breathe without doubling over, I fumbled for my phone with shaking fingers and dialled 999. The cold bit into my skin as I held it to my ear and forced myself to stay steady.
Someone picked up after the first ring. "999. What service do you need?"
"Police. Grosvenor and Hilbert Park. The entrance near the bowls club."
"And what's the nature of the emergency?"
"My friend's been abducted. His name's Rowan Hale. The one who took him is Marcus Carter. He's – he's dangerous. I just got a call from him. He told me to meet him at the graffiti wall or he'd hurt Rowan."
There was a short pause on the other end. I could hear the operator typing at a furious pace.
"Alright, I'm patching you through to the police. I need you to stay where you are."
"I can't. If they show up first, Marcus will do something."
"Sir – "
"Just tell them to hurry up."
I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket, pushed off the tree, and forced my legs to move.
The park entrance loomed ahead, darker than I remembered it being in the middle of the day.
But I had to keep moving. Rowan was in there somewhere, and I didn't want to think about what Marcus might be doing to him.