Chapter 41
Jagger’s just been briefed by Rick’s superior over the phone, and we all wait with held breath. The police are here, and this has now become a case for the FBI. Bombs going off in central LA with two people dead and several critically injured aren’t events that get ignored.
“They’re sending a temporary head of security here until they can conform Rick’s whereabouts,” he informs.
All the injured individuals transported to the hospital have been identified, and fortunately, none of them were Rick, Eden, or Brittney. However, this leaves us with the unsettling realization that the two deceased individuals at the scene could potentially be one or two of the three missing.
None of us want to go there. Not yet. Both fear and dread crawl up my spine, and while I’m trying to remain positive, I’m finding it hard as the house is littered with police and FBI agents talking to each one of us. Thankfully, over the last few weeks, Rick’s been updating the feds downtown with some stuff about the stalker, but not everything.
The reality is that the LAPD has its fair share of leaks. Media leaks can be particularly damaging, and the last thing we need is a scandal turning against us and jeopardizing our careers just as we”re starting to emerge from the depths of its big slumber.
I glance up from my contemplation, the tension in the room tangible as the four of us sit on the edge of our seats in the dimly lit living room. Anxious silence envelops the space, interrupted only by the occasional deep exhales and restless shifting of our bodies.
Jagger glances nervously at the clock on the wall. The ticking seems to echo the pounding in my heart. Callum clenches and unclenches his fists, unable to sit still, and he hasn’t rolled a fag in hours, probably worried that he’ll miss an important call if he goes outside for a smoke. Haze taps his foot impatiently as he stares blankly into the distance, lost in his thoughts.
As soon as the FBI agent steps into the room, we immediately spring to our feet, our eyes searching for answers.
“You have news,” I say quietly, and it”s not a question because she wouldn’t be coming in here looking all stoic and professional if she didn’t have any updates on the situation.
My heart is pounding so loud it’s about to break through my chest.
“Please have a seat,” the agent says.
We exchange worried glances before reluctantly sitting back down. The woman takes a deep breath, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.
“We’ve been investigating the events surrounding the attack that occurred outside and inside the restaurant.”
“Inside?” Haze asks on behalf of all of us because we knew about the car bomb, but no one mentioned that something had happened inside the restaurant.
“We have some information regarding your two girlfriends. I need to know which of the two are the boyfriends.”
We quickly glance at each other.
“Brittney Davis is Eden Rivers’ friend. She’s not dating either of us,” Jagger clarifies. “Eden is.”
The agent nods their understanding.
“And which one of you four is dating her?”
“All of us,” Haze interjects. “We’re Eden’s boyfriends.”
The agent’s sudden, stoic expression changes to surprise.
“This is a polyamorous relationship,” Jagger explains. “Eden is not just our bandmate; she lives here with us as our live-in partner.”
At this point, I don’t think we care anymore if the media destroys us. We just want Eden back, and we’re not going to lie about the status of our relationship. We’re all in this together.
“I see,” the agent says, whose face quickly deadpans. “We tried to search for Eden Rivers’ next of kin.”
“She doesn’t have any blood relatives,” Haze clarifies. “She has Brittney as her power of attorney over all legal matters.”
“Why does that even matter?” I force the words out, dreading to ask and hear the answer.
But deep down, I know exactly what it means.
Asking for next of kin only means one thing—they found her, and she needs to be identified.
Fuck, my heart feels like it”s about to go into cardiac arrest. I don’t think I want to know. To hear it means acknowledging it, and I”m not sure I can mentally or physically handle it.
“For a worst-case scenario, the next of kin needs to be established.”
“There is none,” Haze declares. “Unless you call Brittney, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s currently missing.”
“What info do you have? You walked in here and said you have new developments. Tell us, please. Are they okay?” I ask, the desperation lingering in my voice.
The agent looks at all of our worried-as-fuck faces. I probably grew a few worry lines around my forehead these last few hours.
“We”ve reviewed the security footage from the restaurant. It appears that one of the women was abducted by masked men. She was forcibly taken from the premises.”
Abducted?
“Which one?” Jagger asks as we eagerly await to hear the name.
“We identified her as Eden Rivers. We would appreciate it if one of you could confirm this,” and the agent takes out their phone.
We all gather around her as she plays back the footage and watch the main room of the restaurant erupt with chaos as everyone tries to escape, the bodyguards rushing to protect their clients and drag them to safety amid all the masked men entering through the crowds. We watch Eden and Brittney emerging in the corner of the screen, in full view of the camera. Rick’s nowhere to be seen.
Eden’s looking around the room, which means she’s searching for Rick, or she’s assessing the situation and looking for alternative ways out. As soon as she spots the masked men, she shoves Brittney into a group of people, most likely not wanting to associate her friend with her and endangering her further.
Brittney gives her a look of confusion and worry; Eden takes one apologetic look at her friend and runs in the opposite direction, most likely the service area. Clever girl, that would have also been my reaction. But three masked men literally climb over people and run after Eden. My eyes dart around, waiting for something else, but the scene isn’t captured further than the main dining room, and my heart and mind are about to crash from worry.
Did Eden make it out?My eyes dart across the screen, silently praying and looking for confirmation.
My heart sinks further into my gut as the men re-emerge.
“Son of a fucking piece of shite!” Callum”s exclamation echoes through the room. His frustration reflects mine as well.
One man steps into view, followed by two others carrying Eden slumped over their shoulders.
“She’s been drugged,” I state the obvious, my voice trembling with worry for Eden”s well-being.
The room falls into a heavy silence as it all sinks in.
They took her.
My girlfriend. Mine.
I look up, and Haze looks devastated while Jagger clenches his jaw, trying to process the information.
What about Brittney?Have they found her? Maybe she can shed some light.
The agent is still playing the clip. There’s more, and we all lean back to watch the screen. The men holding Eden are looking towards the entrance. It’s empty of people except for Brittney, who’s talking to a tall man. He’s masked, but his hand grips her arm, and he’s chatting to her. She looks at him searchingly as if she recognizes his voice. She hasn’t seen Eden yet, but the tall masked man is holding her, pulling her away. But it almost looks like he’s urging her to leave the restaurant. The video ends.
The room is filled with heavy silence as we try and absorb what the fuck we just witnessed and the reality of the situation settles in. I exchange glances with my bandmates, grappling with the shock and uncertainty of Eden’s fate.
“Brittney Davis left willingly with a masked man she recognized who seemed to be the crew”s leader. We’re working on identifying him and tracing their whereabouts. Is there anything you might know about the individual she may have left with? Boyfriend, relative, friend?”
“She left willingly?” I ask, still stuck on what I just saw. “But why?”
Of course, I don’t expect anyone to have answers.
“We”re still piecing together the puzzle, but she may have had prior connections or knowledge about the situation. My tech guy is trying to get access to street camera footage that might be able to give us the car plates they drove off with.”
“Cricky!” Haze sits on the sofa, his entire face shocked and thoughtful.
“Brittney is Eden’s best friend,” Jagger clarifies. “We’ve known her since we all competed on Tone Wars. But none of us really got to know her. Not properly. But Eden trusted her, and judging by that video, she tried to sacrifice herself to save her friend.”
“Is there anything to suggest Brittney had something against Eden?” The agent looks at all of us as she pockets her phone.
“Brit didn’t like us all that much, but she was pretty tight with Eden.”
“Why didn’t she like you?”
“Well, if you do your research, you’ll find that a video of us with Eden circulated online about ten years ago, and a massive scandal erupted, forcing Eden into hiding. Brittney blamed us for releasing the video and ruining Eden’s career. When Eden fled from LA, we went looking for her, and Brittney, along with Eden’s old bandmates from the Sugar Vixens, exploded on us. They even got court orders against us to never approach them again because of what they think we did.”
“And did you release that video?”
I look at the other three.
“No, we didn’t.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Yes, but we can’t disclose that info. Eden also knows who released it, but we can tell you that it’s not connected to the stalker.”
“When you say stalker, you’re referring to the cases Rick Madden was cooperating with the LAPD.”
“They are probably connected. But Rick didn’t know everything.”
“Do you have any clues as to who may have abducted Eden Rivers and possibly responsible for blowing up your vehicle and the trailer that happened several weeks ago?”
Haze breaks out of his thoughts and looks at me and then at the large French doors that lead to the corridor and foyer where police and various feds have currently set up shop. I nod my understanding and get up to close the doors.
“What we need to disclose cannot go beyond these walls. Eden believes there’s a mole in the LAPD who is not only connected to the media, releasing cases about celebrities, but that there’s someone connected to her stalker slash abductor or that they could be someone from a powerful position that has influential authority.”
The agent acknowledges the grave situation and leans forward with interest.
“I’m a little confused. She’s only been abducted this evening, so how would she have known about her potential kidnapper?”
“Because this isn’t the first time Eden was kidnapped. Ten years ago, she was drugged and abducted for several days.”
“She was threatened by him that her life was in danger if she talked.”
“That’s why she ran. She didn’t disappear because of the video. She fled because of the threat on her life and didn’t know who to trust.”
“You said she was abducted and held against her will for days?” The agent asks for clarification.
And I take a seat as we all take turns to recount what Eden told us not so long ago on the yacht.
”So you understand why this story can never go public or be known by the department,” Jagger explains firmly.
“But I can’t solve this case alone,” she insists. “You’ve given me some important data I need to share with my superiors.”
”And we”ll deny everything,” Jagger asserts.
She gazes at us, a hint of vexation flickering across her features, though she tries hard to conceal her feelings.
“Eden’s life is in danger if the media finds out,” Callum blurts out. “They’ll be everywhere like fucking cockroaches.”
“They’re already outside the gates, so someone from your side or the LAPD reported something about the car bombing, and they’ve connected it to us. The media will crucify Eden.”
“Other than my tech guy assigned to work with me, no one knows about this video. LAPD only knows about the SUV that exploded because it was rented in your name.”
“Good,” Jagger confirms. “We need to keep it like that.”
“You’re going to make it much harder if we’re not working with local law enforcement.”
“I thought you two hated each other.”
“That’s a generalized myth.” She purses her lips together in thought, stands up, and takes out her card, handing it to Jagger.
He takes it and pockets it without looking.
None of us are impressed with how the progress of finding Eden is going.
“I’ll let you know if my techie finds something. In the meantime, I’d advise you four to remain together in one place if I need to contact you again.”
I close the French doors once more after the agent departs.
“Do you think we can trust her?” Callum asks.
“Dunno, mate,” Jagger adds thoughtfully and then looks at Haze. “I’m going to need access to the safe, where Eden’s and the additional guns are.”
“What the bloody fuck do you plan to do?” I ask, worry gnawing at my insides as I wonder if he”s bonkers.
I”ve never been comfortable with the idea of living in a house with firearms within easy reach.
“Go to war, get our woman back!” Callum”s words join the urgency. He and the other two head into the kitchen pantry room. Reluctantly, I follow.
Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea? The unease settles like a heavyweight in the pit of my stomach.
“None of you are fully trained in using guns. Only myself and Eden hold licenses.”
“Fuck you, Jagger. If I see that asshole, I’m gunning the bastard down,” Callum retorts angrily, but we remain silent. Perhaps it’s because we all feel much the same way as him.
Haze opens the staff door with stairs that lead to the basement, and the light sensors automatically turn on. We descend the creaky wooden stairs with a sense of purpose. The room at the bottom is cluttered with old furniture draped in dusty sheets, and the distant hum of a dehumidifier fills the air.
We scan the room before approaching a section of the basement hidden by a heavy curtain. Haze pulls it aside, revealing a locked door. The atmosphere grows tense as we exchange glances, aware that the contents behind the door are not everyday belongings.
“It’s time,” Haze says in a serious tone.
We nod in agreement as he types in the code on the keypad. Haze doesn’t believe in using keys. Almost everything he owns that needs to be locked has a keypad instead of a keyhole.
The door buzzes and swings open, revealing a hidden room filled with an array of old instruments and a massive gun safe at the far end.
“What’s all this?” I ask, eying the instruments with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“Our old shit. I had the studio out back emptied years ago when I rented this house out. Almost everything down here is from our old Sonic days.”
“Bloody ’ell!” Callum opens a case and pulls out his electric guitar. “How are you, old mate?” He says, caressing it gently.
My old tour drums peak out from under a dust sheet, and I have to admit that this is a really wrong time to be nostalgic.
“Did you bring Eden down here?” I ask, curious.
“Yup,” Haze grins at us. “I had to show her since quite a few of the guns in the safe are hers. She also had the same lost eyes as the three of you.”
“I wouldn’t say lost, just going down memory lane,” I say, picking up my old drumsticks, which I had the band sign. Usually, at the end of a concert tour, I’d throw the signed sticks into the crowd to whichever lucky bastards caught them. Usually, we’d all have a right good chuckle watching our fans scramble and punch each other out to claim it. Even our female fans were vicious with each other, trying to claim a part of us.
Jagger approaches the gun safe, noticing the keypad on the front.
“Why the secrecy?” he asks confused.
“Staff have access to the basement. If the cleaning crew ever took one and then created a crime, we’d be implicated because the guns are registered in mine and Eden’s names.”
“You bought yourself guns?” I stare at him, a little astonished.
“Well, I’d never thought I’d need one, but times have changed. We have some psychotic stalker on the loose who’s a Houdini with tripping security cameras and alarms, lacing Callum’s tobacco; it seems necessary. And anyway, the secret room and closet were Eden’s idea. She has one hidden in her closet at Terra Sands.”
I saw it the last time we were there, and I was a little surprised to learn she’s prepared herself with all these weapons. It also gives me a little peace of mind that she’ll know how to fight back if she gets the chance.
“She didn’t trust Catalina?”
“I think after the ordeal Eden suffered, she lost faith in humans in general.”
I’m trying to keep calm and not have my mind wander to what that bastard might be doing to her. Looking at the other three lads, I wouldn’t be surprised if they also struggle with their wandering thoughts.
Haze steps forward and enters a code on the keypad. With a reassuring beep, the safe unlocks. He swings the heavy door open, and an inner light turns on, revealing an arsenal of weapons.
“Holy fuck, bruv. Were you and Eden preparing for war?”
We all gaze at the handguns, rifles, and a shotgun.
“Haze, mate,” I say with concern. “We ain’t Tom Hardy in Legend.”
“Nah,” Jagger says, stepping forward, his eyes tingling with excitement. “We’re better than them, Kray bruvs.”
He grabs the sizeable black duffle I recognize Eden used from her home to load her guns and bring them here.
I watch with interest as he adds the two shotguns and a rifle.
“They lost the war,” Jagger loads up the guns with magazines, his movements precise and practiced, matching his military expertise. “We ain’t fucking up like they did.”
I have no idea how to even use these weapons. Eden and Jagger are the only two in the group who would know. Haze got us all the additional classes for instructional self-defense and handgun training. Which, for the latter, I skipped out.
I’m a musician and don’t believe in using guns. Except now I regret having done just the one class after Eden begged me to join her.
Drums are more my thing if we’re being realistic here.
“Hope we don’t need these, but better safe than sorry,” I say and move forward.
Grabbing just one item and one magazine. The cold metal feels weighty in my hands. I step away and watch Callum load up with Haze as they gather their chosen weapons, their expressions calm and determined.
“Get only enough that you can hide under your clothes and avoid suspicion since we have to pass through a group of feds and agents,” Jagger says.
We share a silent acknowledgment of the uncertain path ahead as we prepare for whatever challenges may lie in wait. The room echoes with the click of loaded magazines and the clink of metal as we gear up, ready to face the unknown.
“First stop, Brittney’s place?” I ask as we ascend the steps.
“I doubt she’s there, and the feds need to go through a court order to get inside her place. That could take hours.”
“Hours which we can’t afford to lose with our woman in that bastard”s hands. We need to get inside her place. I remember seeing Catalina leave the spare key with Eddie before she flew to New York, and I doubt she ever returned it to Brittney. So that key must be somewhere in her bedroom upstairs.”
“Hopefully, Brittney has something that will lead us to wherever the fuck they are.”
“Or who the bastard is.”
“What about Storm?”
“We shouldn’t leave him here or take him with us.”
“The physio place,” Jagger interjects. “I’ve been there enough times with Eden. They have one of those animal hotels, and each owner can view their dog via a live phone app. He’ll be safe there.”
Good idea.
“I’ll go get Storm and meet you by Brittney’s vehicle,” I suggest. “You three throw the others out and let security know we’re going for a drive.”
The lads agree, and as soon as we reach upstairs, we set out on our way to proceed on this secret mission to rescue Eden and finish off the bastard who abducted her.