2
Xavier
A guy kicks in the passenger window and starts worming his way out while we sprint towards them. We spotted two figures in the front seat but couldn’t see how many people were in the back. If the back of the van is seatless, they will be thrown around against its walls. Fear claims the small of my back when I imagine Em in the back, and rage follows.
Aaron leaps onto the guy trying to escape the van and pins him to the ground like a fucking pro wrestler while I take a look in the cab. There’s a man in the driver’s seat slammed against the driver’s door, and the metallic scent of blood lingers. It’s too dark to see him properly, but he’s far too quiet and still to be alive, even if he was faking it.
“Em,” I call out. “Em.”
There’s moaning, a woman injured or perhaps unconscious, but something is not right.
“Bro,” Austin pats me on the shoulders and shines the flashlight into the cab, “use this.”
“Em,” I yell again, and the same moaning replies. But it’s not moaning that I’ve heard before, not from Em anyway. I turn back to Austin and glance at Aaron over his shoulder, who has the guy pressed hard against the ground, face down. The guy is obviously in pain and wriggling underneath Aaron’s heavyweight, spurting angry words while Aaron calmly tells him to “fuck up.”
“The van is lying on the sliding door, Xave,” Austin says, shining the light on the upright side of the van. “With Aaron here, we could roll it back over onto the tires.”
“Yeah, I’m not letting this fucker go,” Aaron’s deep voice tells us where he’s at.
“I’m gonna climb inside, so aim the flashlight into the van to guide my way,” I tell my twin as I tug on the door handle, but it refuses to open.
“Right,” Austin states and knocks on the side of the van. “Xavier is coming, Em. Hold on.”
I’m about to say I don’t think it’s her in there, but I could be wrong. However, seeing my bro find his tiny black heart is nice. I slide my long body inside the cab and, due to gravity, land on the dead guy. He didn’t move or groan, so I can say that he’s definitely dead.
Climbing into the back, the seat is tipped on its side, and it takes me a couple of seconds to catch my bearings in the dark. “Hello?” I say calmly so I don’t frighten her, and she replies with another moan. Without looking closely, she seems groggy and in a daze. I turn back to grab the flashlight off Austin and shine it onto the small figure lying on her side, squashed between the seats.
Blond hair lights up like a halo. She’s not Em, and my gut lurches. The best-case scenario is that she’s home in bed. The worst-case scenario…well, I don’t want to think about that.
Clinging to the toppled seats, I clamber to her side and shine the torch on her face to see how badly injured she is. Her eyes are slits in her skull, so she is not fully conscious, and blood pours from a wound above her eye, and I turn back to Austin.
“Bro, call 999. She’s in a bad way,” I stress.
“Fuck,” he snaps, placing the phone to his ear.
Sensing his trepidation, I add, “It’s not Em,” to make him feel better.
“Huh? Who is it?” he asks, stretching his neck to try and see her.
“Bri,” I exhale to ease the frustration in my chest, “Brielle. Em’s long-lost sister.”
“You’re fucking with me?” Austin blurts, then Emergency Services answers his calls, and he turns away from me to speak to them.
“Brielle?” I say quietly, brushing strands of blond hair that are sticky from blood on her face. “Brielle, we’ll get you some help, okay?”
She moans in obvious pain, and I glance back at Austin, who’s giving the operator our location. I place the flashlight on a flat surface and remove my sweater to drape over Bri for warmth. Many questions swirl in my mind, but now is not the time to ask her them.
“It’s me, Xavier Leroux, and my brothers are here too,” I tell her to keep her awake. If she’s had a serious head injury, we don’t want her falling asleep.
Bri doesn’t respond to my comment and leans forward to listen to her breath. She’s still breathing, but it’s shallow, and I reach for her wrist to find that it’s limp and her pulse weak.
“Stay with me, Brielle,” I roar, hoping to wake her.
“Emergency services are on their way,” Austin informs me, still pressing his phone against his ear. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s breathing but has fallen unconscious,” I answer, grabbing her face in my clutches and shaking it so she wakes again. “Bri, stay awake. We need you to stay awake until an ambulance is here, okay? Stay awake.”
She moans, and I sigh in relief as her eyelashes flutter under the flashlight”s beam.
“Bri, how the fuck did you get into this mess? Where the hell have you been for so long? Your sister has been worried sick.” I realize these questions won’t be answered right now, but I need to keep her awake, and all I can think of to say are the mysteries that have yet to be solved. Where the fuck is Em?
I can hear Aaron chatting to the captive. I can’t pick up on what he’s saying, but the tone is Aaron’s usual lackadaisical chaunt like the dude has an inbuilt flat-o-meter where nothing raises his temperature, including a high-speed chase and tackling a kidnapper to the ground.
“Who are these men, Bri?” I ask her, and a soft whimper replies as she winces and twists against the pain. I turn my attention back to Austin. “Call Em, bro. Call her again to see where she is.”
“I don’t have her number,” he replies, becoming awkward. He seems not keen on calling her because that would show he cares.
I pat the back of my jeans, find it in the pocket, and take it out to hand to him. “Call her,” I reiterate in a firmer tone.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you called her since it’s coming from your phone,” he argues poorly.
“Dude, this is no time to act like a soulless cunt,” I state irately, and Bri moans in pain again. “Sorry, Bri, my brother is as stubborn as a mule drunk on whiskey. He’s crushing on Em but pretends not to.”
Bri mutters incoherently, and I lean in to listen to her, nodding as if I understood. She groans some more and then whispers, “Em-a-line.”
“Yeah, Emaline. Your sister,” I say, touching her forehead to find it wet with sweat, even though her touch is so cold.
“Emaline,” she breathes again.
“Yeah, Emaline,” and I check in progress with my brother, but he’s moved away from the window, so I can’t see him. “Chicken.”
“Chicken,” Bri mutters.
“Yeah, chicken.” Austin”s concerned face appears at the window. “Did you get her?”
“Went to voicemail,” he replies, swiping off.
“Try again,” I insist. I’m not letting him get away with it.
“There’s no point,” he barks sharply. “Her phone is turned off and switched to voicemail.”
“Try again, Austin,” I say firmly.
He growls before swiping again and pressing the phone against his ear as the sounds of sirens in the distance quickly near, and my shoulders relax.
“Help is here, Bri,” I assure her, stroking her forehead, yet my mind is fixated on Em. Where the fuck is Em?
She contorts her body in pain and starts sobbing. “No,” she cries out. “No.”
I’m a little bewildered by her reaction and assume she’s muddled and perhaps doesn’t know where she is or how she got here. “Bri, you’ve been in a car crash. The paramedics need to look you over.”
“No,” she groans again, getting upset.
“Yes, Bri, they need to assess you for injuries and then take you to the hospital, where they’ll look after you well,” I explain slowly and clearly so she understands.
“No,” she whimpers again, “No police.”
“What?” I’m a little stunned. “We kinda need police to arrest the guy Aaron has pinned down. Bri, I might be wrong, but from the way we’re looking at it, it looks like you were kidnapped, fled from the scene because we were chasing the guys that took you, and now one of them is dead, and another is struggling to breathe under the weight of Aaron.”
“Dead?” she groans.
“Yeah, well, one guy is dead at the wheel, and the other will be arrested when the cops get here,” I tell her bluntly because she’ll find out one way or another. Besides, it’s not as if these guys were taking her on a Disneyland ride. They had kidnapped her. Yet, something doesn’t sit right in her reaction, and I wonder if I have it wrong.
“There are others,” she murmurs and then winces again. Every time she moves, she winces. “I need to go into hiding.”
“Bri, I think you’re hurt pretty bad, so you can’t go anywhere until the paramedics get here,” I tell her, finding it disturbing that it hasn’t dawned on her the situation that she’s in. “And the police already know you’re missing because Em has been hunting high and low for you. Jeez, girl, where have you been, and why did you leave?”
“They’ll come after me,” she sobs as her body trembles. “The police will protect you, okay? That’s what they’re paid for. All you need to do is tell them who is after you, and they’ll put you on a protection program. Okay?”
She nods, but I suspect she’s unconvinced. “Bri,” I exhale, “do you know where Emaline is?”
“Em?” she says her name, this time with an edge. “Is she here?”
“No, Bri, that’s why I’m asking you. Do you know where she is? We can’t find her,” I repeat as a pang of pain surges through my jaw from clenching. Never has a girl caused me such agony, and Em does something to me when I’m in her presence. She’s my sunshine and feel-good drug.
“She’s gone? They got her, too?” Bri croaks, sounding scared, and fear shivers down my spine.