17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Maddox
I didn’t bother sticking around after Wilde and Atticus got into a fight; there’s no point if all he’s gonna do is bitch about Wilde being here, and clearly I know when I’m not wanted. I should’ve stayed in rehab; things might have been better off. Then again, if I didn’t fuck up in the first place, perhaps Jinx wouldn’t be missing right now.
I just can’t wrap my head around it; in just five days, the guys still haven’t found any sign of her. I mean, how do you lose track of someone? Whoever took her had to have been planning this for a while. That’s all that I can conclude. That’s why we can’t find her, he knew the route he would take.
I slam the front door to the car and sit there, squeezing the steering wheel. I’m trying to stay calm, but the more I think about everything, the more I need something to drink or swallow. It’s becoming all too much for me to take. But I can’t think about myself all the time. Jinx needs me, and that’s what matters.
“You okay, man?” Wilde asks when he gets in the car.
“I’m not the one that got hit. How are you?”
He shrugs me off. “Meh, it won’t be the last time I piss someone off. What’s the plan now?”
I don’t know, and that’s the problem. I feel like I’m running away again. I stare at the house and wonder if we missed another clue inside. This entire thing sounds like a broken record. No clues, where is she? If something doesn’t break soon, I’ll break.
Atticus rushes out of the house, phone pressed to his ear, eyes wide as he scans the yard. Finally, his gaze meets mine through the windshield. Ashton follows, waving his hands at Atticus, but only ignores him. I slowly get out of the car and hear him tell whoever he’s talking to about giving him the details.
“Ace, what the fuck was that all about?” Ash grabs his arm, spins him around, and confronts him face-to-face.
“He took her.” His eyes focused intensely on Ashtons.
“Who did?” I ask, even though I have a feeling I already know who.
Atticus turns his head, and his blue eyes darken. “Her stalker.”
As I imagined, not that this helps. We still don’t have her. “What’s the plan now?”
“We have to do what he says. He’s sending over directions to where she is. We have an hour.”
“An hour? Where the fuck is she?” His phone dings, and I swear my heart drops out of my body.
“I’m driving. Let’s go.”
I want to argue with him, but I bite my tongue. It’s not the time; the only issue is Wilde. I can’t leave him behind, but I feel like this isn’t something he should be witnessing, either. I feel like I should keep him close because he did help me out, but Atticus does have a point; I don’t know him that well. I don’t want to seem harsh by cutting ties after his support. Plus, I’d feel awful if something went wrong and he relapsed.
I open Wilde’s door, and as much as Atticus hates the guy, I think we need him. “Can you move to the back? We need to get moving.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll do whatever. Unlike a certain someone I listen when talked to.”
I move out of his way when he slips out of the car. “Thanks, man.”
I climb in, and Atticus glares at me. “I can’t ditch a friend; we might need him.”
He shakes his head and slams it into reverse. He can be pissed off all he wants; this isn’t about anyone in this car. The entire car is silent as Atticus drives. My mind wonders to what we potentially will be walking into. Jinx needs us, so no matter what, we have to be ready. I can only hope that nothing goes wrong.
We turn down a gravel road, and Ashton climbs over the seat, wedging himself between Atticus and me.
“Where the fuck are we?”
I lean forward, trying to figure that out.
“I know where we are,” Wilde speaks up. “This is Whispering Lane. Where all those multi-million-dollar houses were supposed to be built.”
“Supposed to? What happened?” Ashton asks.
“I heard the developer disappeared, some hotshot from the city. Most of these houses are undeveloped and left abandoned.”
“What a joke; why not tear them down,” I add. Who would leave these houses like this? Why not bring in another developer? All this land is going to waste.
Atticus makes another turn onto an unfamiliar road, and the overgrown trees line the way. I can feel my heart drop as a house comes into view. Its once-white paint is now chipping away, revealing the dull wood underneath. The windows are boarded up, and the front porch is nearly collapsing. Jinx is somewhere inside this massive house.
“What does he want exactly?” Ashton asks without taking his eyes off the house.
“He never said; he only told me he needed something.”
That sounds ominous if you ask me. What the hell does he want? He already has Jinx, and he’s been tormenting her for months. What now? I hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath. The smell of decaying leaves fills my nostrils. I hop out of the car, the guys trailing behind me silently. The tall grass softly crunches beneath my feet as we approach the house.
Climbing the broken steps, we barely make it to the front door when it swings open, and there he stands, hoodie covering his face. My heart leaps into my throat as I take an instinctive step backward. Is it him after all this time?
“About time.”
He’s talking with one of those voice changers, so it’s hard to tell who it is. He tilts his head, showing his dark green eyes and nothing more.
“You gave us an hour. We followed your instructions; what more did you expect?” Atticus retorted with an eye roll. Ashton elbows him and shakes his head.
His hand grips the door until his knuckles turn white. “For you to watch your mouth, considering I have your little girlfriend still.”
Atticus moves forward, but I grab his shoulder to hold him back. “Don’t,” I whisper. “What do you want from us?” I turn to him and ask.
“A trade of some sort.” He shrugs.
“What does that mean? You know what, never mind. Where’s Jinx? I need to see her before I agree to anything else you have to say.” Atticus steps closer and they are dang near the same height.
As Ashton moves in closer, crossing his arms, I join him, watching intently. Meanwhile, Wilde lingers behind, casually leaning against the damaged banister. Jinx’s stalker doesn’t move, cocky little asshole, I try to look past him, but he doesn’t leave enough gap between him and the door. Jinx must be somewhere else in the house, or she would be screaming for us.
I’m so over this. I push past Ashton, slam my hand on the door, and give it a shove to open. Stalker asshole tumbles backward, falling to the floor.
“Try anything, and you won’t find her.”
Atticus grabs my arm, halting me from hitting him. “If I were you, I’d speak fast.”
“Fine. You can have her, but I want him.” He points to Ashton.
Ashton frowns and looks at him, confused. “What the fuck do you want me for? Who trades a human for another human?”
“That’s not how this is gonna work.” I grab him by the ankle and drag him over the uneven floor. The temptation to beat the crap out of him overwhelms me. My knuckles ache to connect with his jaw, to feel the satisfying crunch of bone.
In a moment of reckless abandon, I throw all caution to the wind and let my fist fly. Another satisfying crack of my knuckles meets his jaw, echoing through the room, a physical manifestation of my pent-up
frustration and resentment toward him. Despite the pain in my hand, I feel a sense of release and satisfaction.
He lay there for a moment, dazed and disoriented, before slowly pushing himself up. “You’ll pay for that.” he snarls, his eyes filled with rage.
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant even though my heart is racing. “Do you think I give a shit? Now, where is Jinx?” I reply, my voice sounding surprisingly calm.
He lunges at me, but I’m faster, dodging his attack and striking him again, this time in the stomach. He doubles over in pain, wheezing for air, and I take the opportunity to kick him in the ribs. I can feel the bones cracking beneath my foot, but Wilde and Atticus pull me back before I can land another. But I want more. I crave more; I want him bleeding out on the floor.
“He can’t tell us if you kill him,” Atticus hisses.
I struggle to break free from their grasp. “I don’t care.” I grit my teeth when their fingers dig further into my skin. “Want him dead.”
He rolls over, coughs, and groans. Serves him right—piece of shit.
“That’s enough, Maddox,” Wilde warns me.
“He better start talking, or he won’t be walking again.”
Ashton bends down next to him, slipping off his hoodie. He reaches for the black balaclava when a clash comes from a back room. No one moves or says anything. The prick starts laughing.
“That’ll be doll trying to escape.”
I go to move, but Atticus beats me to it, kicking him in the broken ribs. I can’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction as his screams echo through the room. Ashton goes for his mask again, and nothing gets in his way this time.
Ashton trips backward and gazes at the unmasked stalker. “How? Why?” he asks with horrified eyes.
I’m confused. How does Ashton know this asshole? I turn to Atticus, and he looks just as scared.