Chapter 32 Blake #2
“We’re going to. Let me get these ropes from around your feet, and then we’ll get out of here, okay?”
She nodded, but as soon as she sat back, I heard the creak, along with her gasp. I drew my gun, but I was too late. Something hard cracked against my skull, and everything went black.
My cheek throbbed and a mariachi band played an annoying tune in my head as I came around what felt like hours later. A whimper slipped from my lips as I attempted to move, but everything in my body felt so damn stiff.
Leaves drifted on a gentle breeze across the wood floor right to my face. Blowing them away, I pushed up to my elbows, groaning when the simple movement reminded me of my time in that dark cell. Flashes of that night pushed into my skull, forcing me to relive some of the darkest moments of my life.
“Blake?” a little voice whimpered.
That voice leaked through the worst memories, forcing me back into the present. Blinking rapidly, I focused on that sweet voice, and as a minute passed, so did the trembling in my limbs.
I wasn’t in that cell. I was in a dilapidated cabin, which wasn’t a whole lot better, but at least I wasn’t about to be waterboarded again. That had to be a plus.
“You’re awake,” a deep voice muttered in the dark.
Shoving the rest of the way up, I searched in vain for my gun, realizing I must have dropped it at some point. There was nothing in this rickety shack to defend myself with. At least, not in arm’s reach.
Reaching back, I grasped Cassie’s hand as I shifted back on my butt.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up,” the man said, finally stepping out of the shadows and into the light.
Gasping, I was shocked. I mean, I had known it was a possibility, but he was here in the flesh.
John Callahan stepped forward, his rifle tucked under his arm as it hung lazily from his grip.
“You,” I whispered.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he muttered, shoving his fingers through his graying hair.
“Why?” I asked, needing answers—and for him to keep talking until I could figure out a way out of this mess.
“You don’t understand,” he said, almost to himself, as he started pacing the length of the room. “No one does. But then, that’s how we planned it. It was never supposed to go this far.”
“You kidnapped a little girl,” I hissed. “Did you kidnap Dakota, too?”
That got his attention. His eyes flicked to mine, and if I wasn’t mistaken, hurt flashed in their depths. “I could never…”
“Why did you do it?” I asked when he drifted off.
I took advantage of what looked like him caught up in memories.
Very carefully, I pulled out my phone, checking once again for a signal, but there was none.
My eyes scanned the cabin for anything that might be useful as a weapon, but the only thing I could find was some splintered wood that I could use as a stake, and I really didn’t relish the idea of staking the man like a vampire.
Though if I could get him close enough to the window, I might be able to shove him through it.
“She was so young,” he murmured. “It was tragic.”
“Dakota?”
Sighing, one shaky hand ran along his jaw. “She’d been through so much already. You have to understand, she didn’t mean it.”
Didn’t mean it? “Dakota didn’t mean it? What did she do?”
When he didn’t answer, I pressed on.
“She did something, and you killed her for it. What was it?”
The old man swallowed hard, the rifle slipping in his grasp. He was distracted, and this might be my only opportunity to attack. I squeezed Cassie’s hand again, then slowly pried my fingers away despite her trying to hold tight.
But just as I was about to spring forward, the door slammed open and Wes came charging in, my spare gun in his trembling hands. “Don’t move!” he shouted just as old man Callahan spun around, raising his rifle.
I didn’t hesitate as I jumped to my feet and ran at John, tackling him to the ground for fear he would fire a shot at the kid I was supposed to be protecting.
We crashed to the ground, and I grabbed the rifle, tearing it from his grasp just as Wes rushed over, holding the gun over his boss’s prone form.
“Don’t move,” he hissed.
At that moment, I was proud of how strong he was, even if his hands were trembling in fear.
“Why? Why would you do this?” he hissed.
“It’s not what you think,” the old man groaned, wincing as he shifted on the ground.
“You’re in a cabin with a little girl,” I snapped. “Why don’t you tell us exactly what it is.”
“You have to leave,” the old man whispered. “Take the girl and leave. Now.”
Something was very wrong here. Why would he kidnap the girl, only to try to save her?
I got my answer seconds later when Cassie cried out behind me.
The sounds of terror ripping from her throat had me spinning around, gun raised. Confusion swirled in my mind as I took in the woman who held Cassie to her.
The look of sheer anguish on the woman’s face as she held a knife to Cassie’s throat almost had me pulling the trigger. Shoot first, ask questions later. But that knife was already drawing blood from Cassie’s neck, and if the woman fell back, she’d cut Cassie’s throat.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I shouted.
“She’s mine,” the woman cried, tears streaming down her face. “You can’t have her.”
The woman was insane. She appeared somewhat normal—clean clothes and her hair pulled back in a frizzy bun—but that’s where the sanity ended.
I could see it in her eyes. Not necessarily evil, but deep confusion and need.
She was not okay, and as long as Cassie was in her grip, that little girl didn’t stand a chance.
“She’s not yours,” I said gently. “This is Cassie. She has a mother—someone who loves her very much.”
“I love her!” the woman shouted. “Don’t you understand? She was meant to be mine!” The woman’s face crinkled as she broke down in tears. “They were all meant to be mine.”
There was only one girl who went missing twenty-five years ago, so what was she talking about?
“Grace,” old man Callahan said from behind me. I shifted slightly, needing to keep an eye on both of them. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he got to his feet, his hands gently raised as he spoke softly. “She’s not yours, honey.”
“She is!” the woman screamed. “You can’t have her!”
“Sweetie, this little girl belongs to someone. Look at her.”
Very slowly, the woman shifted her gaze to the little girl in her arms.
“She doesn’t look anything like Jim or you. This is not Annabelle.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears as she looked back at John. I tensed as she tightened her grip on the knife, pulling Cassie closer. I purposely kept my eyes off Cassie, worried that if I looked at her, I wouldn’t be able to look away when it mattered most.
“She’s…mine.”
“She’s not, honey. This is not your Annabelle. You have to let her go.”
The woman looked down at her captive, her head shaking furiously with every moment that passed. “No. No! She’s mine! I won’t let you—”
A gunshot ripped through the night, and a single hole appeared in the center of the woman’s head. For a split second, she was suspended in the air, her eyes staring sightlessly in the distance.
I leapt forward just as the woman and Cassie started to fall backward. My fingers wrapped around the woman’s hand, and I tore her hand free from where it was pressed to Cassie’s neck. The three of us crashed to the ground, but only two of us came out alive.
Rolling over, I pulled Cassie with me, away from the woman’s dead body. She clung to me, crying hysterically as I stared at the woman with the hole in her head.
Raising my eyes, I saw Parker standing in the doorway of the cabin, his gun still gripped tight in his hands, but his eyes were locked on me.
“Parker,” I whispered.
His eyes flicked to Wes, checking him quickly before he rushed across the room, dropping to his knees beside me. He let out a shaky breath, then his lips were on mine, pulling me from the little girl as he crushed me to his chest.
“Don’t ever fucking do that again,” he murmured against my lips.
“Language,” I whispered, kissing him again.
As much as I wanted to keep kissing him, there was a frightened little girl who needed my attention more than him. Tucking her back into my side, I whispered, “Ready to go home?”
She nodded just as John walked over, stopping just inches from the woman’s dead body. Staring down at her, he sighed heavily before kneeling by her side. “I’m so sorry, Jim.”
Frowning, it was only then that I realized I had heard the name Grace before. No, not heard. Read it. It was in the information about the Callahan family. Jim’s wife was named Grace, but she was supposed to be dead.
John Callahan got to his feet, slowly turning to face us. Shame twisted his features as he dropped his rifle to the ground. He said nothing as he walked past us, heading straight for the door and into the night.
Parker knelt down and pulled the little girl into his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder. But I was already moving toward Wes. I didn’t think as I pulled him into my arms and held him tight.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?” he asked awkwardly, his arms at his sides as he stood there like a robot, not sure how to give or receive love.
“For being there for me.” Stepping back, I held him at arm’s length. “It’s what family does for one another.”
He swallowed hard, his brows twisted in confusion. He didn’t understand it yet, but he was part of my family, and there was no way I was letting him go.
“You came for me. You followed me in the truck, and you refused to let me go to the cabin alone. You protected me,” I emphasized.
“Yeah, well…” He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable as hell. “I wasn’t sure you could make it that far without a sandwich.”
For the first time since I met the kid, a small smile touched his lips. Laughing, I tugged him into my arms and hugged him again.
“Then let this be your lesson.”
“To follow you around with food?”
“That, and to never yell at me when I’ve missed a meal. You saw what I did back there.”
“That was actually Parker.”
I shushed him. “Don’t tell him that. The heroism will go to his head, and his ego is already big enough.”
An arm wrapped around my neck as Parker tugged me into his side. “It’s not just my ego that’s big enough,” he whispered.
Wes shook his head. “Seriously, I’m standing right here.”
The little girl sniffled, holding Parker’s hand. “What’s an ego?”