46. Noah
NOAH
THREE YEARS AGO
Twelve years.
I was so fucking close…At least I thought I was.
Another long sip of bourbon empties another glass. I can't even taste it anymore because I'm numb. Completely and utterly numb.
Monty's words are still echoing in my mind as the sickening feeling slithers through my body again.
I thought I had finally found her.
For two years, Monty has helped me search for my little rabbit, and two nights ago, I thought it was all going to pay off.
A hit came in from Norfolk, Nebraska. A woman was brought into the hospital with severe head trauma, and bad road rash from a hit-and-run.
She didn’t have any identification on her when she was found so she was listed as a Jane Doe, but her features ticked every fucking box that it was her. My little rabbit.
I booked the quickest flight, not even waiting for Monty to get confirmation if it was her or not. I'd been waiting for over twelve years for this close of a match, so I wasn't wasting another second. It was her. It had to be her.
When I arrived, I rushed straight to the hospital.
They refused to let me in the room, but allowed me to watch her from the window to the ICU.
They said that until they had confirmation on who she was, they couldn't let me in.
I obviously had no photos or proof that she was who I believed she was, so I impatiently waited.
She looked so broken and frail. Her head and half of her face was bandaged from the accident.
They had her hooked up to multiple machines.
Her heart rate and oxygen were barely stable.
She had road rash along her entire body, multiple broken bones, and a cracked skull.
Whoever hit her took off, and according to the cops, they still hadn't found the car.
I had Monty searching through every camera in the area where they found her and the surrounding streets. I swore when he found the sonofabitch that hit her, I'd kill him myself. I’d tie him to the bumper of my truck and drag him down a road until no part of him will be recognizable.
Those six hours were agonizing. Waiting, watching her body, only breathing due to the machines barely keeping her alive. My heart was breaking with each beep of her monitor.
That is, until my phone rang and Monty's face was lighting up my screen.
I'm sorry, boss. It's not her.
Those six words caused my world to shatter.
All the hope I had built up since the moment we got the hit disappeared within a few seconds.
I remember staring at the woman lying in the ICU, completely perplexed and overwhelmed with emotion.
On the one hand, I was glad it wasn’t my little rabbit lying there fighting for her life, but on the other, I was also wishing it was her…
that I had finally found her… But it wasn’t her.
They ran her DNA through the system and matched dental records to a woman named Molly Spruce who lived only a few towns away from Norfolk. Monty tracked her records back to the day she was born.
It. Wasn’t. Her.
Even now, I can still feel the pain drowning me. This is the closest I’ve ever come to finding my little rabbit.
Another glass topped off, another glass drained. Over and over, I've been emptying this bottle at almost an alarming rate, especially for me. I've never been one to drink to numb my feelings, but tonight it felt necessary.
Before I know it, the glass is shattering against the bricks in the fireplace, alcohol igniting in the flames.
“Goddammit!” I scream as I fall to my knees.
My head is pounding. The distant sound of my phone going off is barely registering as I drag myself up off the ground. I don’t know what time it is. All I know is I’m not nearly drunk enough yet to forget this pain.
“What!?” I snap, not even looking to see who’s calling me first.
“Hey, boss. I know you said not to call you, but…” Monty’s voice trails off.
After he called me and told me it wasn’t her, I hopped on the next flight home and haven’t left my house since. Everyone was aware to leave me the fuck alone, and even Jeremy understood and didn’t ask questions, which was surprising.
“But what, Monty?”
“I found him. I wasn’t going to call, but I thought you’d want to hear this.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Pass the info off to the police, and hopefully they can do their Goddamn job and lock the fucker away. It’s not her, so it doesn’t…”
“It was her boyfriend,” Monty says, interrupting me.
“What?”
“Yeah. I was cross-referencing license plates near that area, since where they found her was down a country road so there were no cameras. One of the plates was a match to one that was in the hospital parking lot. I checked, and the fucker got his car fixed the morning she was brought in. According to the shop he went to two towns away, it was listed as front-end damage from a deer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Fuck. Are you one hundred percent sure, Monty?”
“Boss, I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t one million percent sure. It was him. He has a previous record for domestic violence, and in the last two years, Molly’s been to the hospital for broken ribs, and a fractured wrist.”
“How the fuck has this not been taken care of already?” I demand.
I thankfully keep hydration packets and water bottles stocked in this house, just in case I forget to water the thing locked in my labyrinth for a day.
Never know when you’ll need them. I grab one of each, combine them, then shake it up before downing it as fast as I can.
I know I’m not going anywhere tonight, but by morning, I should be good to go.
“She works on her boyfriend’s farm. They were all dismissed as just work incidents.”
“Fucking hell.”
“When do you want to leave?” he asks, stunning me.
“What?”
“I’m assuming you want to go there and snatch him up. I can tell from your voice you’ve been drinking. So, when do you want me to pick you up?”
“I never said I was going back out there, Monty.”
“But you want to.”
I’ve never told Monty what I do, but he’s helped me track down a few of the fuckers on my list in the last two years.
He never asks any questions, even when the men mysteriously go missing.
It’s always been a no-questions-asked kind of friendship, which is exactly how I like it.
Just like how Jeremy knows I have my demons, but doesn’t ask which kind, Monty has been the same.
“Listen, Noah, I’ve known you for two years now. In that time, there have been sixteen horrible human beings who have thankfully disappeared. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Granted, I always did want to be a rocket scientist.”
“Monty…”
“I want to help you with this, Noah. I owe you. You didn’t ask any questions when I brought you my case. You trusted me just as I trusted you. Now, I’m asking you to trust me again. What time can I pick you up?”
I glance at the clock on the microwave. The blue glowing numbers show eight p.m., so, it’s seven p.m. in Norfolk.
“How fast can you get here? Is there even a flight available?”
“Pfft…You’re talking to Montgomery Sanderson here. You think I don’t have a private plane on stand-by?” he laughs.
“I mean, it wasn’t listed in your assets during your trial.”
“Ah, and what a mistrial that was. No, I got my pilot's license as a celebratory gift for myself and got my own plane. I’ll be at your place in thirty minutes. Does that give you enough time to get ready, pretty boy?” he teases.
I groan in frustration, which only makes him laugh harder. My stomach growls, reminding me that I still haven’t eaten since yesterday. Shit…I still have to take care of the thing in the labyrinth as well. This is why I don’t drink.
“Better make it forty. You know the code to get in, I’m assuming?”
“What? You think I’d know your personal information like the code to get past your high tech security…”
“Monty,” I growl as I rush around, nearly tripping over my own feet.
I grab some food and then go into my office to grab some supplies. I need to hook him up to an IV because I don’t know how long we’ll be away. I don’t need this fucker dying on me while I’m gone.
“Alright, chill. Yeah, I know the code to your system. 1023 was quite obvious.”
October 23rd.
My little rabbit's birthday.
“Well, by all means, just let yourself in. I have to take care of something before we leave.”
“Ten-four, Rubber Ducky.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he laughs as I hear a door slam shut on the other end of the line. “I’ll see you soon, boss.”
“Monty, why do you still call me boss? You can just call me Noah.”
“Yeah, but boss sounds cooler. I’m hopping in the truck now. Want some Taco Bell? We can grab some on the way to the plane.”
My stomach growls again, and the thought of Taco Bell on a stomach filled with only alcohol does not sound like a good idea, but honestly, nothing about tonight is going to be a good idea.
“Sure. Taco Bell sounds great.”
“See ya in forty, boss.”
He ends the call before I can say bye, leaving me to finish getting this taken care of before we leave.
I shouldn’t go back. I should just let the police take care of it, but I know they won’t.
He’s already gotten away with this shit for too long, and now he’s gone as far as attempted murder… that’s if she survives.
I grab the stuff for the IV and some high-nutrient food before quickly rushing down the steps to my labyrinth. I quickly pull on my mask and click on the voice changer before winding my way through the paths to the center. I’ll leave the lights on while I’m gone to disorient his internal clock.
“Back so soon, Killer? I thought you’d forgotten about me,” he grimaces as I pull off his blindfold.
“Nope, just didn’t want to look at your face for a couple of days,” I tell him as I attach the IV above his head to the support beam.
“What’s that?” he asks nervously.
“An IV. I have some shit I need to take care of, and I don’t need you dying on me anytime soon.”
“Ah, still haven’t found my baby girl, have you, Killer? I still can’t figure out what your obsession is with her. Are you one of those true crime freaks? Did Netflix finally make a documentary about me? Fuck! I’ll never see a dime from that show.”
“Shut the fuck up, Parker,” I growl.
My head is splitting, and his incessant rambling is getting on my nerves. I grab extra rope to make sure he’s restrained so that he can’t knock the IV loose.
“Maybe you’re someone from her past?” he asks, but I don’t respond.
I finish tying him up, then find the vein I need before sticking the needle in.
He hisses and I can’t help the small thrill I get just knowing he’s in pain.
I haven’t tortured him for a while. Hell, I’ve barely even come down here except to give him food and water.
He tries to get me to talk every time, but I hardly respond.
It’s not just the physical torture, it’s psychological too.
People tend to go mad without human interaction.
“Not feeling talkative today?” he asks, still trying to make me talk as I flush the saline solution through the tube. “Are you a fucking nurse, Killer? How ironic would that be?” he laughs.
I actually learned the basics just in case I wanted to make sure I kept my toys alive while I took care of what I needed to. I know how to place and start an IV, simple stitching, cauterization, and even looked into survival amputation. That one could come in handy someday.
I finish getting the IV flowing, then grab the plate of food. He stares at the spoonful of mush as I hold it out to him before he slowly opens his mouth. As much as I want to cram this spoon down his fucking throat, I have more important shit I need to be doing.
“What is it?” he mumbles through a mouthful of the mush.
“It’s going to be your last fucking meal if you don’t shut the fuck up and eat.”
“Is it tuna?”
I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply twice just to stop myself from punching him.
“Tuna, cottage cheese, some canned spinach, and powdered vitamins.”
“Tastes like fucking dog food,” he says as he spits a chunk of spinach on the floor.
“Well, it’s fitting then. If you don’t eat it, I don’t care. That IV will keep you going for a little while.”
“How long?” he asks nervously as I pull the plate and spoon away.
“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to eat or am I taking this away?”
“No. I’ll eat. Sorry.”
Something flashes in his eyes that I’ve never seen on this monster’s face before. Regret. Actual fucking regret. I give him a few more spoonfuls before he’s shaking his head back and forth at the last few bites.
“No more,” he groans.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head slightly.
His head sways as he blinks rapidly. Probably trying to clear away the fog slowly settling in.
“Wha…What did you…do?” he asks.
“Oh, I forgot to mention I added a little something extra. Just to help you sleep.”
He can’t see my grin behind the mask. All he can see is the sewn closed mouth of this broken skull mask, but still it’s there. His head falls forward as he’s barely able to hold it up. I stand, leaning a bit closer to slap him on the cheek twice.
“Goodnight, fucker.”