Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Eleanor
Be careful what you sow.
“ A nything yet?” I ask, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as I keep the truck all but flying down the road, following Hunter’s written instructions on how to get to the store. It’s only thirty minutes away, but I’m anxious to pull over as soon as Carlson gets a signal so we can take care of this hacker problem.
He huffs as his fingers fly over his keyboard. “Not yet. Bitch-rimming government can’t even sort mobile signals in this country.”
Bitch-rimming? The poor boy needs a lesson in insults. They need to at least make sense. “We’ve clocked fifteen miles,” I grumble. “Can’t be that long.”
He keeps refreshing and searching for the desperately needed signal, his keystrokes becoming harder and faster as the seconds tick by.
“Who do you think they are?” I wonder. I didn’t ask back at the campsite as he wouldn’t be willing to share and get it wrong in front of William. It’s clear to me he idolizes him as a father figure and is seeking his praise. Poor kid is missing the fact he has been entrusted with the Reapers’ cyber security. That should tell him everything.
“We have it!” he shouts as a loud ringtone echoes through the truck speakers. Where have I heard that before?
Green Hay flashes across the console screen. Hunter must have left his phone in here, which makes sense given the zero signal. Something swirls in my stomach, the nausea making my head swim. They must have the MC’s number if they can’t get a hold of Hunter, right?
Fuck it. Biting my lip, I hit accept. “Eleanor Austin speaking. Sorry, Mr. King can’t come to his phone right now, but I can take a message.”
“Oh, Eleanor, how easy you just made my life.”
My vision blurs and Carlson lets out a tiny squeak as the truck swerves to the side. I slam on the brakes and squeeze the steering wheel, the truck skidding to a stop in the middle of the deserted road. Silence echoes inside the cab. My blood roars in my ears. It’s not real. It’s my mind feeding me auditory hallucinations.
“What a woman you’ve become,” Jonathan continues, his voice velvety soft. Now I know it’s not real. He doesn’t praise women unless they are kneeling at his feet and catering to his every whim. I am doing neither of those things. I will never do either of those things. “Cat got your tongue?” He sighs, and I’m right back in the compound, knowing that small action always precedes some form of punishment, and by extension, pain.
“Is the biker with you? Or did you ditch him at the camp?”
My hands fly to my ears, and I shake my head, my nails digging deep into my scalp. “No, no, no.”
He chuckles, the sound dark and full of promise. “That is one less thing to take care of. Can’t have you coming to see me with another man, especially one that has touched what is mine.” His voice sharpens, his breath rattling through the phone as he fights for the control he’s so proud of. “I will kill him?—”
I bang against the steering wheel, causing Carlson to jump and cover his mouth with his hands, tears in his eyes. “You will not touch him.”
Jonathan chuckles. It’s full of icy rage but clear intent. “You got away, Eleanor. You were free. I stopped looking for you a long time ago, but you couldn’t just savor your freedom, could you?”
“You have to be stopped.”
“No, my sweet Eleanor. You know that’s not true. Deep down, you crave me. You miss my love. You desire my attention. You are lost, but I always come for those I love.”
A scream of frustration tears from my throat. “You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the face with a shovel.”
“I take away your burdens, control your fear, give you a life free of decisions and responsibilities. What is that if not love?”
I release the rage and replace it with the icy exterior he cultivated within me. It’s the only way I survived, and while the warmth and comfort of the man I find solace and stars in is far superior, it’s all too easy to slip back. Panic and anger won’t get me anywhere. I glance at the computer clutched to Carlson’s chest. I need logic.
“Much has changed, Eleanor. The compound you left behind has been replaced with many others. We are a vast network?—”
There’s more than one compound? That makes far too much sense, and I don’t know how I missed it.
“I know all about your network, Jonathan.” My voice is steady. Cold. Devoid of everything Hunter has introduced into my world. “I know how you lure, torture, and imprison people. How you breed women like cattle to feed the sickest whims and desires of humanity.”
“Sick only by the standards set by a broken society.”
It’s like he believes his own words. It’s a terrifying thought; there’s nothing more powerful than conviction.
“Spare me the lecture of Jonathan our savior. You don’t control me. I am immune.”
“You always were, and that’s what made you my favorite. You were a challenge, something fascinating to tear apart so I could piece you back together as my perfect little doll.”
“How did that work out for you?” I snap, darkness coloring the edges of my vision.
“Oh, it’s going to work out fine. Men like me always land on our feet. We are blessed.”
Carlson shuffles in his seat, reminding me I’m not the only one present for Jonathan’s threats. We have an audience that is likely very confused. And scared. My lips thin as my gaze falls to the caller ID. How did I forget the most important aspect in this entire encounter? The origin of the call. He could have traced my visit, but potentially not who I was visiting. Steph might still be safe.
“Did you fancy a stay at a psych ward? I can recommend one more suited to a man with narcissistic personality disorder and a messiah complex.”
“Green Hay is very pretty, full of such lovely broken birds. Not really my thing. I prefer to break their wings myself. Those in here are the after. You, Eleanor, are the before, and I am going to take great pleasure in pulling out your feathers as I break your frail body and shatter your mind.” The euphoria in his voice is clear, and bile clogs my throat. “I shielded you from the worst of it growing up. I had a soft spot for you, you see, but the gloves came off when you started picking at my empire and messing with my customers.”
“You know the problem with pretty broken birds, Jonathan?”
“What?”
“They have nothing to lose.”
I stab the end call button with a shaking finger and pull back onto the road before I can second guess myself. Carlson gapes at me, fear leeching all of the color from his face. I grit my teeth as the phone rings again. Fuck, I hope I know what I’m doing. I send it to voicemail, biting the inside of my cheek until I taste iron.
I hand Carlson Hunter’s phone. “When that rings, send it to voicemail.” My voice leaves no room for argument, sounding eerily similar to the man who once controlled my life.
“Okay,” he whispers.
I grab my cell and call Gail, the trees blurring outside my window. Please answer, please answer... The call continues to ring. She normally picks it up by now. Where the fuck is she? My heart thuds in my chest with each shrill sound. If there is a fucking God, I need him to?—
“Hey, Ellie, you okay?” she asks in a tired voice.
I keep my eyes focused on the road as I continue to race to the store. There’s logic in what I’m doing. I try to soothe myself, my heart breaking with every mile I put between Hunter and me. We just got a signal. If I turn back like I really want to, we’ll lose communication. We’ve been on the road twenty-five minutes, meaning Jonathan will be left to his own devices around Steph and the others for an hour. He’s not a patient man, and even now, I am risking lethal wrath.
“You know the guy we talked about? The one from when I was growing up.”
“Yes.” Her tone is suddenly sharp. Focused. Irate.
“He found me. He’s at the mental institution where Hunter’s sister is being cared for.”
“What do you need?”
“I assume, like most villains, he’s about to give me an ultimatum to come to him or he kills her.”
Carlson curses softly, more aware of what’s going on around him than any of the Reapers give him credit for.
“That’s highly likely,” she acknowledges. “Is Hunter not with you?”
“No. He’s at a campsite without means of communication about thirty minutes away. I give you permission to speak to Carlson and Hunter regarding anything in my notes that you think could help.”
His head whips towards me, his eyes wide behind his glasses as they slip down his nose.
“Help with what, Ellie? They have you.”
I grit my teeth as I screech to a halt in the store’s parking lot, slamming on the brakes. “I promised him I would protect his heart and include him in every decision.”
“Then turn back around and go fucking get the big military-trained biker that loves you and his muscly ride-or-die buddies before you walk into the viper’s nest.”
Carlson cancels another call from Green Hay, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “His heart is in that institution, Gail. Tell me the likelihood Jonathan won’t kill her in a fit of rage if I ignore him for well over an hour.”
The silence is so fucking loud it is deafening. “He won’t kill you. You know that, right?”
I know. I’m counting on it. “Anything they need, Gail, you give it to them. You have access to my entire history and Uncle Steven.”
“I love you, Ellie.” Her voice breaks, fracturing a piece of my heart I didn’t realize she controlled. “You kill that fucker, and I will make it my mission to ensure you never see the inside of a prison.”
My lips twitch. “There won’t be anything left of him when I’m finished. Murder is so very tricky to prove without a body.”
“Be safe.”
I cut the call before I lose my composure, turning to face the ashen-faced boy next to me. I snatch Hunter’s phone from his limp grip and put a call forwarding on for Green Hay before sharing Gail’s contact details. I override the facial recognition and switch on the only lifeline I have. I hand Carlson Hunter’s phone back and snap my fingers in front of his eyes to get his attention. He blinks but focuses, fear making him tremble in his seat.
“You need to get a ride back to the campsite. Local cab, Uber, whatever can get you there the quickest. Cost doesn’t fucking matter. If I survive this, I’ll pay you back. Tell Hunter Jonathan is at Green Hay. Tell him that’s where I’m going.”
He jerks his head in acknowledgement, his body stilling now he has a purpose.
“Tell him the tracker is on and ask him to call Fox for further updates.”
“O-okay.” The poor kid’s terrified. Life lesson one: the real world fucking sucks.
“Give me your laptop.” He releases it into my hands without hesitation, and my fingers fly over the keyboard as I take a leap of faith with a practical stranger. I turn the screen toward him, my body strangely calm. I trust him, I realize, filing that away as something to hopefully analyze later. “This is Jonathan. He’s the leader of the world’s largest sex trafficking ring. This is all the research I have gathered over the last twelve years.” My voice is robotic, and I realize how much I have changed in my time with Hunter, how much life he has breathed into my world. I refuse to let Jonathan steal anything more from me. “I want you to review it.”
His mouth pops open. “Me?”
“Yes. If you can figure out where he’s heading, that’s likely where I am going too.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to.”
“Hunter will kill me.”
A humorless laugh escapes me. “No, but he might kill me.”
My phone rings this time, and I scowl at the caller ID. I reject it. “Out, Carlson. The longer you sit here like a gaping fish, the longer Hunter is in the dark.”
He practically falls out of the truck but has to try closing the door twice before he finally gets it to latch. I connect my phone to the truck and punch in the address for Green Hay. My stomach sours. Twenty-six minutes away. Hold on, Steph, I’m coming for you. I catch his panic-stricken eyes with my own deadened gaze, nodding once sharply before leaving Carlson stranded in the parking lot.
My phone rings twice more with the call forwarding, and with each rejection, the tightness in my chest increases until I’m struggling to breathe. The next call is the one I’m waiting for.
“Tell me,” Fox says, full-on military mode activated. He is aware of the danger. He knows what this means.
“Jonathan is holding Hunter’s sister hostage unless I go to him.”
“And he agreed to let you walk into your own death?”
Death would be a mercy. “He doesn’t know,” I whisper. My breath catches in my chest, and I turn off the woman I’ve become over the past few weeks. I don’t need Happy, Full of Life Eleanor, I need the Ghost. I need the shell I used to be, wearing the robotic armor I donned for years. It’s my only chance. I give him the rundown of where we are and what happened, my foot pushing harder and harder on the gas.
“Right, so that was five minutes ago, meaning you are, what, twenty minutes out? But King’s an hour from even being contactable?”
“That’s right.”
“Make this make fucking sense, Ghost.”
“He won’t kill me. Not right away. You have time, and he is arrogant enough to consider himself untouchable. Follow the evidence, follow the tracker, but don’t come for me if you aren’t one hundred percent sure you can do so safely.”
“King will murder us both,” Fox groans. “You know that, right?”
“Why would he kill you?”
“Because I failed in talking you out of this stupid-ass plan to throw yourself at the mercy of a fucking monster.”
A slow smile stretches across my face, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I parrot Hunter’s words. “Some people are made to hunt, and some are made to be hunted. He thinks he knows which I am, but he’s wrong.”
“Ghost?” Honor’s soft voice puts a crack in my shell. “It’s my turn to pick the damn movie, and you will be sitting through Love Actually this Friday because you promised after making me watch the remake of It.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I send a desperate plea to whatever deity is listening that I make it out of this. For the first time ever, I want to.
“Deal.”
My phone lights up again, and a cold, calm fury settles over my bones. Time for the devil to meet the monster he made.