CHAPTER THIRTY
Jacob
“STOP! STOP! What are you two doing?!” A male voice shouts, cutting through the chaos. The officers pinning me down suddenly pulled back.
“Hey! I asked you two a question! What are your badge numbers? I wanna speak to your supervisors!” The voice grows louder, filled with authority. As the weight lifts from my body, I scramble to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest. I look around frantically, but Anya and Lana are nowhere in sight.
Where did they go?
The crowd is still thick around the club, people oblivious to the fact that two women have just been kidnapped. My breathing becomes erratic as panic sets in.
“Mr. Sullivan, are you okay?” The man who shouted at the officers steps closer to me, concern in his voice. But I’m not paying attention. My eyes are scanning every face, every corner of the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of Anya’s dark hair or Lana’s familiar silhouette.
I can't see them. They're gone.
“Jacob!” a familiar voice calls out, and I finally snap out of my daze. I turn and see Detective Morrison standing a few feet away, his expression grim.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice hoarse with frustration and confusion.
“I was following Anya,” he says, stepping closer. “But then I saw you, and those two officers holding you down. Are you okay?”
“Following Anya? What the hell do you mean, you were following Anya?” My words come out sharp, more of an accusation than a question.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck like he's been caught in a lie. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve had a bad feeling about this. Caleb… he’s not stable, but I don’t think he’s crazy enough to kill anyone. Still, something’s been off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Anya might be in danger. So, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
I can feel my blood boiling beneath my skin. “You’ve been following her this whole time? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this at my mother’s funeral?” I snap, my voice filled with venom. My fists clench at my sides, the anger bubbling over.
He exhales deeply, looking me square in the eyes. “Jacob, you were burying your mother. I didn’t want to pile more onto your shoulders. Plus, I didn’t have anything concrete. I wasn’t going to worry you for no reason, especially when I wasn’t sure what I was dealing with.”
“Well, a lot of good that did, Morrison! She’s gone now! Anya and Lana—gone! I saw two guys grab them right in front of me! I was right here! I could’ve stopped them!” My voice cracks, frustration lacing every word. The weight of it all comes crashing down on me, the realization that I failed, that I couldn’t protect her.
“Tell me what you saw. Every detail,” Morrison says, his voice steady, though I can see the tension in his jaw. He’s feeling it too, the weight of what just happened. But he’s trying to keep his cool.
I run my hands through my hair, pacing the small area by the club’s entrance, my mind racing. “I came here because Pops said Anya and Lana were out trying to take her mind off everything. I was just about to talk to her—I saw her! She smiled at me. And then, out of nowhere, two guys in black—ski masks, all black—grabbed them. I tried to jump the fence to get to her, but the damn security held me down. And by the time I got up, they were gone. Just… gone.”
Morrison looks down, processing everything. His jaw tightens as he pulls out his phone. “We’ll get every available officer searching for them. Don’t worry, Jacob, we’ll find them.”
“How can you say that?!” I shout, stepping closer to him. “I saw her get taken, Morrison! I was right there!”
“Jacob, I get that you’re angry. I’d be too if I were in your shoes. But listen to me. We still have a chance to find them. I have resources and contacts. I’ll pull every string I can to track them down. But you need to trust me.”
“I trusted you to keep her safe!” My voice shakes as I feel the rage and fear boiling over again.
“I know.” He nods, his expression softening just slightly. “And I let you down. But I’m not giving up on this, and neither should you. You want to help me find them? Then we have to move fast.”
I exhale, forcing myself to breathe through the rising panic. “What do we do?”
“We’ll start by canvassing the area. Someone must have seen something. And then, we’ll check any security footage in the vicinity. I’ll get my team on it. But right now, the most important thing is that we don’t waste time.”
I look at Morrison, my mind racing with every possibility, every worst-case scenario. Anya’s face flashes in my mind—the fear in her eyes when she realized what was happening.
“Jacob,” Morrison says firmly, snapping me back to the present. “We’ll find her.”
I nod, though the words do little to calm the storm inside me. Every second that passes feels like another chance slipping away.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, not sure if the words are meant for him or myself. I need to do something. Anything. Just standing here feels like drowning.
As we move toward Morrison’s car, my phone buzzes. I glance down and see a message from Marissa:
" Jacob, is everything okay? I’ve been feeling off. Please call me when you can."
I send a quick reply saying not to worry. I can’t have her any more stressed with her being pregnant. I shove the phone back in my pocket, my mind solely focused on one thing.
Finding Anya. Before it’s too late.
As we make our way to Morrison’s car, the weight of the situation hits me all over again. I’ve got a limited window—just a few days—before I have to be back in Georgia for basic training. The clock is ticking. Every second wasted here means losing time I don’t have.
Morrison opens the door, ready to drive us to the station, but I stop in my tracks.
“I can’t waste time just sitting around, Morrison. I need more help. Someone I can trust to go places the cops can’t. I know a guy,” I say, my mind racing through options.
Morrison raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Who?”
“Connor. He’s a buddy of mine, Army Ranger. The guy knows how to find people. If anyone can help me track them down, it’s him.” I’m already pulling out my phone, fingers flying across the screen as I dial Connor’s number.
The phone rings twice before he picks up, his voice rough from what I assume is a late-night workout. “Yo, Sullivan, what’s going on? You good?”
“Not even close,” I reply, my voice tight. “Anya’s been taken. Along with her friend Lana. I need your help, man.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Connor’s tone shifts, all business. “Taken? By whom?”
“Two guys, all black, ski masks. It happened right in front of me. I couldn’t stop it.”
“Where are you now?” he asks, his voice cutting through the static of my rising panic.
“In Jersey, but I’m running out of time, Connor. I’ve got a few days before I need to be back in Georgia. I can’t—I can’t leave until I find her.”
“Alright, listen. I’m on leave right now, so I’ve got time. I’ll drive up from Virginia. Give me an hour to get ready, and I’ll be on the road. In the meantime, send me everything you know. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
Relief floods through me, even if just for a moment. Connor’s the best tracker I know. If anyone can figure out where these guys went, it’s him.
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit, Sullivan. We’re in this together. Just hang tight, and I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up, and I feel a sliver of hope cut through the storm.
I turn to Morrison, who’s been listening to my end of the conversation. “You trust this guy?” he asks, his brow furrowed.
“With my life,” I answer without hesitation. “And Anya’s.”
Morrison nods, understanding. “Good. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
We hop into the car, and Morrison takes off toward the station. My phone buzzes again—it’s another text from Marissa. I ignore it for now. She’ll just have to wait. There’s only one person I’m focused on right now, and that’s Anya.
As we drive, my mind flashes back to the moment I saw her in the parking lot. That brief second when she smiled at me, before everything went wrong. The image is seared into my brain, and the more I think about it, the more I feel the panic rising in my chest.
I clench my fists, trying to control my breathing. I can't lose her. Not after everything we’ve been through.
"Jacob, stay with me," Morrison says, his voice pulling me back to the present. "We’ll find them. But I need you focused."
"I'm trying, man," I mutter, my jaw tight. "But every minute that passes, they’re getting farther away."
"We're not starting from scratch. We know what they look like. We know the area. And once your friend Connor gets here, we’ll have even more resources. We just have to keep moving."
I nod, though the anxiety is still clawing at my insides. I need to keep my head in the game. For Anya. For Lana. For all the people who’ve been dragged into this mess.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the precinct. Morrison leads me inside, and the first thing I see is a wall of surveillance screens, all showing different parts of the city. He nods toward the screens. "We’ve got the area surrounding the club covered. If they used a vehicle, we’d see it."
I can feel my pulse quicken as I stare at the footage. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”
Morrison sits down in front of the main console and starts fast-forwarding through the security footage. Frame by frame, the parking lot, the streets—everything comes into view. I lean in, scanning every car, every person. Then, finally, we see them.
Two men, dressed head to toe in black, dragging Anya and Lana toward a black SUV. My heart pounds in my ears as I watch them force the girls into the vehicle, and then the SUV pulls out of the lot.
“There!” I shout, pointing at the screen. “That’s them! Can you track where the car went?”
Morrison nods, already typing away at the console. “The traffic cams in the area should help us. Let’s see where they headed.”
We follow the SUV’s path through a series of cameras, but after a few minutes, the trail goes cold.
“They turned off somewhere without cameras,” Morrison mutters, frustration in his voice.
“Damn it!” I slam my fist on the desk, feeling helpless all over again.
“Jacob, calm down,” Morrison says, his voice firm. “We still have leads. Your friend Connor will be here soon. And we’ve got a partial plate on the vehicle. It’s something.”
I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make the situation any less unbearable. Every minute that ticks by feels like a countdown to losing her for good.
I look out the window at the darkening sky, my heart heavy with the weight of everything that’s happened. Anya is out there somewhere, scared, and I can’t help but feel like I’m failing her. But I won’t stop. Not until I find her.
As I wait for Connor to arrive, I vow to myself—no matter what it takes, I’m bringing Anya home.