Chapter 42
AMELIA
Being back in the classroom yesterday felt better than I’d expected it to. I had a feeling it was the return to routine and normalcy. When everything was out of control, math wasn’t. It never changed. It was my constant.
Not only was it predictable, it made me feel capable. That was something I desperately needed. I was able to slip into a role I had played for years. It was safe.
I donned the same costume for my remote lecture, took a deep breath before the call went live, then absolutely crushed it.
A good class was exactly what I needed today.
A few students stayed on the call, asking thoughtful questions about the material.
I didn’t mind a bit. It would be a few days until I was back on campus for office hours, so it was the least I could do.
Besides, students actually engaging with the material was preferable to the weird looks and whispers I had endured yesterday.
My phone buzzed as I logged off the call.
Judah
Have you talked to Joel this morning?
I texted back that he was at PT and logged into my email to start chipping away at my inbox.
There were curt well-wishes from fellow faculty that I had worked with for a few years.
There were an egregious number of media requests, both from news outlets and from the university.
Those went straight in the trash. A few emails from students, with topics that ranged from “I don’t know how to log in to join the online lecture” to overachievers already asking for extra credit.
It was only the second day of the semester, for goodness’ sake.
My phone buzzed again and I glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Jude—Judah—replying to me, but it was Joel.
I swiped across the screen to open the text, hoping it was him offering to bring me a treat from the doughnut shop next door to the medical complex.
Huh. I was actually hungry for once.
Jude would be happy about that, especially since he had already made me a full breakfast in bed before he made the drive to New York.
Joel
Just got T-boned. Going to the hospital to get checked out. Please come.
The phone fell from my hand and clattered on my desk as the message sank in. My heart raced as urges warred in my head.
Go immediately.
Stay here. It’s safe.
Call Jude. Wait for him to get here and then go together.
Cole is probably watching Joel.
Someone from the FBI is keeping tabs on Joel.
But he’s my brother. I need to be there.
But it’s safe in here.
It’s safe. It’s safe. It’s safe.
Fuck it.
I grabbed my phone, keys, and purse and ran. Jude would get the notification that I left. Once I got to the hospital and figured out what Joel’s condition was, I’d text Jude and let him know. He was three hours away. It wasn’t like he could get here in a split second.
I yanked open the front door, slammed it behind me, and bolted down the stairs to my car.
I dropped into the driver’s seat, yanked my seatbelt across my chest, and cranked the key in the ignition as I skimmed Joel’s text to see where I was supposed to go.
There were two hospital campuses. Both had emergency rooms and Joel hadn’t told me which one he was being taken to.
Sure, they were only a mile or so apart, but that could be forever if there was traffic or if I couldn’t find parking or—
Something heavy clapped over my mouth. The familiar cloying scent of chloroform stung my eyes as it seeped into my nose and mouth. I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt. I tried to scream. I tried to move my head to get away from the chemical-laced cloth.
But everything went black.
“Mia!”
My head swam as I lurched and rolled across a felt surface. Fucking chloroform . . .
Where am I?
Traffic whizzed by, but I wasn’t sitting up. I was lying down. I tried to rub my eyes, but couldn’t. Something tight bit into my wrists. My hands and feet were tied.
Was I in my car? No. I wasn’t in my car. This car was too big and it smelled weird.
I also wasn’t alone.
The car’s taillights lit up from the inside, giving me a glimpse of Joel’s face.
My stomach roiled as the driver took a turn way too fast.
I was in a car. I was tied up. Joel was here.
This was not good.
He let out a sigh of relief. “I thought you were dead.”
I groaned as bile filled my mouth, but I choked it down. “I feel like I am. What happened?”
He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “I got jumped when I was coming out of PT.”
“So you weren’t in a car accident?”
“Huh?”
I tried to brace myself against the floor of the trunk, but it was hard with my hands tied behind my back and Joel’s knees digging into my hip. We rolled into each other as the driver whipped around.
“I got a text from you saying you were in a car accident and were going to the hospital.”
Joel swore as the driver hit the brakes and slammed us into the back of the trunk. “What are the odds that it’s your scary boyfriend driving up there?”
“Zero,” I croaked. “He’s in New York. Chances are it’s your men up there.”
That shut him up.
So. This is what it actually felt like to be kidnapped.
I was sick to my stomach, tied up in a trunk, with no idea who had taken me or where I was being taken to.
Well, I had a pretty good idea of who had taken me.
Where we were being taken was beyond me.
But I had learned one helpful thing during my first kidnapping. You strike me as the type to kick the taillights out and flag down help.
So I did exactly what Jude assumed I would have done the first time.
I wiggled around until my feet faced the taillights and kicked as hard as I could.
It took a few tries, since my ankles were zip-tied, but eventually, the housing gave way and cracked.
Joel did the same, breaking his with two kicks.
I didn’t even want to think about how much this had fucked up his knee again.
Daylight flooded into the cab. I rolled onto my stomach, rotated, and peered out before sticking both feet through the space and wiggling them like I was waving. “We’re in Atlantic City,” I said.
“How do you know that?”
I glared at Joel. “Because I drove here every single day for a fucking week to try and get enough money to pay back your debt.”
He looked away. “Right. Any chance you have that money on hand?”
“Nope. It’s sitting in a box at the fucking bank.”
“Just fucking great,” he muttered.
Even after everything I had gone through for him—after all he knew, after what happened with Jude, after what it had done to my body and mind—Joel still acted like it was no big deal.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.
“Mia—”
“Shut up,” I hissed. “Just stop talking. Until we know how this is going to play out, I don’t want to hear another word from you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And yet you still can’t understand how much your fuckup ruined me.
” I hung my head to try to keep from throwing up.
“I should have let you experience the consequences of your actions when Jude first gave you a warning.” I let out a sharp breath as the wave of nausea passed.
“But you’re the only person I have left.
” A tear rolled down my cheek. “And I love you.”
Joel was quiet as we rocked and rolled. “I’m sorry,” he said again after a few turns. “I really am. And I love you too.”
The familiar block of buildings that surrounded the Four Horsemen came into view. I wondered if anyone had seen my feet. If they had called 911.
I wondered if Jude was sitting in a meeting right now.
I wondered if he knew just how much I regretted how things had gone down between us.
But I couldn’t think about that now. Between my academic prowess, my eidetic memory, and my penchant for card counting, I could calculate odds in the blink of an eye.
And the odds of Joel and me getting out of this alive were zero.
I took a steadying breath and tried to think through what Jude would coach me to do in this moment. What story could I tell?
The kicked-out taillights were a dead giveaway that we weren’t unconscious, so playing dead was out of the question.
I wasn’t sure if they knew Jude was in the FBI or not. His true identity had been kept out of the news. That would be part of our story. The rest of it would have to be improv.
“When the driver opens the trunk, don’t say a word. Be cooperative, but don’t talk. Don’t deny anything. You’ll just piss them off. And whatever you do, do not say that Jude is in the FBI. They don’t know that. He’s who you met him as—the bouncer who broke into your apartment and assaulted you.”
For the first time, Joel looked truly terrified. “Okay.”
“Don’t speak unless spoken to. Answer questions with the least amount of information possible. Don’t volunteer extra details. When you got kidnapped, did they hit you?”
“Yeah. My head.”
“Congratulations, you have memory loss. Use that. Act like you’re trying to be helpful but just can’t remember,” I said as the car slowed.
He nodded.
“And Joel?” My voice cracked as the engine cut off. “I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too,” he whispered back.
The driver swore and kicked at the fender as he spotted the kicked-out taillights. I listened to the squeak and slam of a heavy door as it opened and closed. All was silent as he went inside.
The rancid smell of old grease and rotten beer wafted from the dumpsters. We’re behind the Four Horsemen. The trunk popped open and daylight flooded in, blinding me as shadows leered over us.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is,” Goon Number One said as he yanked Joel out of the trunk. I was next, tossed like a sack of potatoes over Goon Number Two’s shoulder.
“I’m gonna be sick,” I groaned as we were carted in the back entrance of the Four Horsemen.
It was strange being here in the daytime. It was like going to school in the middle of summer.