30. Coen
Coen
“What the fuck do you mean you lost her?” I shove Bryant. “You were in charge of lookout.” I furiously point at Dominic. “The fuck were you doing when she was taken?” I don’t even look at Beckett because if I do, I will fucking murder him just for putting his grimy fucking hands on her.
“Explain to me again what happened?” Johnny steadies Claire’s shoulders.
Claire shakes him off. “She thought it was that guy. It wasn’t. So we went into the bathroom. I went into a stall and when I came out, she was gone. There was someone in the stall next to me but she came out after me. I checked under every one before I rushed out here to find you guys.”
“I have my team pulling surveillance as we speak.” Dominic latches onto Bryant’s shoulder. “You come with me.”
Beckett opens his mouth to speak but Dom cuts him off.
"You two, canvas the place again." He points to me and Beckett. "You two, find something fucking useful to do instead of killing each other."
They all leave me and Beckett behind in this alley. My desire to follow through with what Dom had said stronger than ever.
Beckett takes off in the opposite direction.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I call after him.
“To get our girl back.” He doesn’t stop walking, just continues stomping down the damp alley.
I rush to catch up to him, grabbing him by the arm and stopping him. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He turns toward me slowly. “If you touch me again, I will put a fucking bullet in your head. If you try to make me waste another second of her being out there, afraid and alone, I will?—”
“Yeah, I fucking get it. Big bad Simon Beckett.” I throw my hands up. “What’s the plan, Sherlock?”
Beckett taps at his chest. “The necklace she’s wearing. It has a tracking device.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” I say as I slap his arm and move in the direction he was headed.
“Because it didn’t concern you. It was my insurance because I didn’t trust this fucking plan you guys came up with.
” Beckett glances both ways before turning left and crossing into another.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key fob.
He pushes a button, and in the distance, lights flicker along the brick building.
“If you’re coming with me, you better fucking hurry up.
” Beckett takes off in a sprint toward the car.
I chase after him, desperate for whatever lead he possibly has and grateful that he was prepared enough to think of something we hadn’t.
Just another one of the ways I have failed her and he has come out on top.
It’s hard to even be mad at the relationship forming between them. If anything, I’m mad at myself, not him.
Beckett yanks the passenger door open and reaches into the glovebox of his car. He pulls out a cell phone and pushes a sequence of buttons, the thing lights up and something blinks on the screen.
“Is that her?” I crane to look over his shoulder.
“Yeah.” He clutches it to his chest in relief, and glances at it again. “She’s going south on Fifth.”
“Are you driving, or am I?”
He shoves the device toward me. “I am. You can give directions.” He pauses before releasing it. “Don’t make me fucking regret this, Hayes.”
“We both want the same thing.” I pry the device from his grip. “To end this.”
I don’t just mean this threat to her life.
I mean the plague that I cause her. But I can’t rid myself from her world until I know for sure that she is safe.
Until then, I will do everything in my power to overcome this obstacle in the way of her and her happiness.
And then I will step out of the way and give her a fighting chance to get exactly that.
There’s no way I can atone for my sins, and the best thing I can do for her is leave.
I would only be doing her a great disservice if I continued to stick around.
I see the disgust on her face when she looks at me.
Or when she won’t meet my gaze. She hates me, and I don’t blame her.
I never will. Not for everything I have put her through.
All those years ago and still to this day.
Her biggest mistake was sitting down next to me that day in the cemetery.
Each bit of light she breathed into me was only sucked out of her.
I have leeched on her long enough, and I refuse to be a drain on her anymore.
Beckett skids the tires of his Volvo as he darts out onto the main street and shoots us into traffic.
He speeds across town, dodging cars and going left of center to take the quickest route possible.
He blares his horn when we get stuck behind two vehicles and ends up driving on the sidewalk to bypass them.
“West on Beachwood,” I tell him as I watch the flashing red dot on the screen with every ounce of my concentration. “What the fuck is over in that direction?”
“Warehouse, maybe? That’s where they had us last time.” Beckett presses on the throttle and speeds through a red light, a semi honking at us and nearly clipping our ass end.
“They’re on Casa Bella now.” I stare at the glowing red and wait for it to move.
“Come on you fucking cock sucker!” Beckett yells at a car and darts around it. “Fucking bastard.” He clips a parked SUV but keeps going, not a care in the world about the traffic violations.
"Still on Casa, slow-moving north." Where in the fuck are they headed?
I try to think of any places up there where we would take a prisoner, drawing a blank every time.
We don't venture that far into residential areas.
We tend to keep things within the outskirts of the city where no one can hear the screams or power tools as we torture people into telling us what we want to hear.
“Wait,” Beckett says but doesn’t continue his train of thought. Instead, he pushes harder on the gas and stares directly ahead, gripping the steering wheel. “I know where they’re going.”
He flits his attention toward me and it’s like he’s seen a fucking ghost.
“Where are they going, Beckett?” My heart thuds at the anticipation.
“Get ahold of Dom, right now, and tell him to get to Castleberry Court.”
“No,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“Where the fuck else, Hayes?” He darts us down a side street and lurches us onto the main road. The car’s suspension buckles beneath us and tries to take the brunt of his wrath. “Contact anyone you trust within a ten-mile radius and have them get there immediately.”
But what if I don’t trust anyone? What if the only person I actually believe prioritizes her safety is sitting in this vehicle with me?
I thumb a quick group text to Dom, Bryant, and Johnny.
Me: Castleberry Court. NOW!
“It makes perfect sense,” Beckett says. “This whole fucking time.”
How could we have been so fucking stupid?
“Can’t you drive any faster?” I grip the device in my grasp, no longer needing to look at it now that we know where she’s heading. My sweet fucking angel about to be destroyed by this dark and dangerous world I could not protect her from.
"It's not for lack of effort." Beckett makes a beeline through a set of slowing cars and blasts through the intersection they were stopping at. Horns honk, tires skid, and vehicles crash into each other to avoid us.
Sirens sound and it’s only a moment later when they appear behind us.
“Keep fucking going, do not stop,” I tell Beckett and reach into my pocket to pull out my phone. I press one of the numbers in my contact list.
“Officer Bradshaw,” the man answers.
“The guy tailing a Volvo, call him off.”
Bradshaw sighs. “You’re killing me, Hayes.”
“Trust me, I will if you don’t call him off. You and every fucking person you love.”
“You can’t just threaten a cop, Hayes.”
“I did, and I will again.” I clench my jaw, the next words out of my mouth something I’m not proud of. “How old is that daughter of yours? Sixteen? Sure would be a shame if…”
“Alright,” he cuts me off. “I understand. Consider it done.”
I hang up the line and wait for him to do the damn job he’s paid for.
“That was a low blow, even for you, Hayes.” Beckett side-eyes me.
I wouldn't have actually followed through with the threat, but neither Bradshaw nor Beckett need to know that.
“Desperate times…” I focus on the route ahead of us. “How are we going to get into the place, it’s a fucking fortress?”
“I could crash the car through the front gate.”
“You’re not serious.” I glare at him.
“Deadly.” He steers us around another car and slams on the brakes to avoid hitting another, then speeds right past them.
"What kind of firepower do you have in here?" I open the glovebox but come up empty-handed.
"Under the back seat." Beckett tilts his head in that direction.
I climb onto my knees in the front and reach into the rear of the car to tilt up the bench seat. I drag myself through the opening, accidentally kicking Beckett a bit on the way.
“Come on man, watch the feet.” He shoves my leg.
I kneel there and examine the selection of guns.
There isn’t much, but it’s more than what I thought we had a minute ago.
I shove a pistol under my front waistband and another behind, near the one that was already holstered there.
I tuck a dagger into my sock and place a switchblade into my pocket.
“Is this what I think it is?” I pull out a small black box and glance at Beckett.
“Yeah, do you mind? I’d rather not die just yet.” He cranes his neck to take a better look at the selection left. “Christ, couldn’t save some for the rest of us?”
I toss a gun and a sheathed knife into his lap. “There. Happy?”
He uses his knee to steer and shoves the gun in the same frontal spot I had put mine. “I wasn’t kidding about the gate.” Beckett nods toward the road ahead. “I’d buckle up if I were you.”
I move as quickly as possible, throwing myself into a seat and reaching for the seatbelt. I barely get it fucking buckled when Simon veers us off the road and through the lawn.
He shoves his foot all the way onto the floor and says, “This is going to fucking hurt.”