Chapter 18 1155 p.m.
Chapter eighteen
Cal
The elevator jolts, a sharp metallic lurch that rattles the walls. My hand clamps tighter around the rail—and Rose.
With a grinding groan, the doors stutter open. We don’t wait. We bolt.
Rose bursts out first, breathless. “Oh, thank God we’re out of that death box!” she laughs, the sound shaky but real.
Her smile barely has time to settle before it fades.
Lights flicker weakly, revealing a vast concrete space, as the faint hum of generators and the echo of dripping water only add to the creepiness.
The lobby and rooms of the Black Onyx are stunning and polished. Which is what you’d expect from a high-end luxury hotel like this. The rest of the place, though? No, thank you. It’s all eerie and almost unsettling.
And this basement is no exception.
“The bottom floor parking garage,” I mutter.
Rose steps closer beside me, brow furrowing. “We wanted the lobby. I definitely didn’t park here.” She peers around me, taking in the scene before us. “Why would the elevator dump us out”—her nose crinkles—“here?”
“Guess the storm’s messing with the system. Or maybe it’s resetting itself.” She hums in response. Neither of us moves.
As a cop, you know when danger is out there. It’s like a quiet pressure that crawls under my skin and simmers long before any noise is made. Hell, I can smell it sometimes.
And right now, something stinks.
Outside this massive structure, thunder cracks, rolling along as the natural fireworks follow. Lightning flashes through the narrow windows, slicing white across the gray walls. Weirdly enough, the echo of the rain sounds heavier down here. It’s pounding against the vents with its rhythm.
Rose shivers beside me. “Cal … this is where they took her. We are in the same part of the garage, aren’t we?”
I look over at her, catching the flash of pain and fear tightening behind her eyes. It hits me hard, sharp enough to make my own chest constrict. I hate this. I hate what she’s been dragged through.
But I can’t fall apart with her. Not now. My focus has to stay on finding her mom and ending this nightmare so that she can smile again. And—if the world gives us a damn break—we can figure out what we could be after all of this.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “This is it.”
She nods as the weight settles over her.
I know what’s running through her mind. The grainy video and the terror etched into every frame.
Those images aren’t leaving her anytime soon.
I’m sure they will always haunt her. And standing here, watching her relive it all, makes me want to tear this entire garage apart until I find the truth.
Seeing her upset is doing things to me, so I have to take her away from here.
I grab her hand. “Let’s get out of here. You okay getting back in the death box?”
“Haha, but also, heck no.”
I chuckle. “Come on. We’ll take the stairs. I’m not staying here a second longer than I have to. Stay close,” I tell her, my tone sharp. It’s a habit, I guess.
She laughs softly. “So bossy.”
I glance back at her, and there’s no stopping the smirk tugging at my mouth. “You love it.”
Her cheeks bloom with that familiar shade of pink. It’s funny—with us in this horrible situation, she manages to make my pulse skip.
Refocusing, I instinctively reach back for her. As our fingers lace, her hand squeezes mine. Should I be holding her hand while on duty? Probably not. But I think a lot of lines have been crossed at this point.
My free hand hovers close to my weapon as I scan the shadows crawling along the concrete. That familiar dread scratches beneath my skin again. Row after row of empty parking spaces stretch out ahead, with one or two parked cars scattered, dim lights above us dying like stars.
The garage is thick with the smell of oil, damp concrete, and something else I can’t name. I tip my assessment upward, imagining the layers of this garage pancaked above us like slabs of steel and stone. Each floor is another angle for danger to hide. Something in the atmosphere is wrong. Off.
Unease pulses through every nerve in my body. I gotta get Rose out of here. Now.
“Let’s not linger,” I murmur, already steering her toward where I’m hoping the stairwell is.
But she slips out of my grip. “I want to see it,” she pleads, tears trembling in her words. “The spot where she was taken. Please.”
Her desperation hits me hard. And despite all my instincts screaming at me to move, I stop—because how can I deny her this?
Yet, I don’t want her reliving what she saw on the video earlier. But I also know that determined look on her face all too well. So she pulls out the big guns and jets out her lower lip, giving me the ultimate pouty face. Again.
Damnit. My kryptonite.
Unable to say no to this woman, I huff, defeated. “Alright,” I agree quietly, squeezing her hand. “But stay behind me.”
We move deeper into the garage as our footsteps echo against the wet floor. The storm outside rages as thunder shakes the ceiling and pelting rain seeps in through open parts of the garage.
When we reach the far corner, she stops. Her eyes give away everything before she says a word. The recognition on her features morphs into sorrow and pain.
My heart breaks for her.
“This is it,” she says, taking in the open space. Without warning, she sinks to her knees, trembling.
I crouch beside her, my hand settling on her shoulder. “Hey. Don’t do this to yourself.”
Tears slip down her cheeks as new ones linger on her long lashes, glinting in the dim light.
Then she breaks. A strangled sob breaks free as her shoulders shake and the weight of this entire experience crashes down on her.
“She was here, Cal. Right here.” She points to the spot her mom was hovering on the dirty floor.
“She was frightened and alone, and I wasn’t—”
“Stop,” I cut in gently. “Don’t finish that sentence.
This isn’t your fault. We’re going to find her.
You hear me? We’re going to bring her home.
” She turns away and a newfound determination fills me.
With my fingers, I tug at her chin so that she’s forced to look at me.
“Let me rephrase that. I’m going to find her.
I will overturn heaven and earth to bring her home to you. Do you hear me?”
And I will. Rose’s happiness means the world to me.
She nods and slumps into me. Her smell assaults my nose as I wrap an arm around her, holding her steady, the weight of her grief pressing into me.
“But first we have to get out of this freaking creepy place, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees, nodding.
When she finally pulls back, I rise and offer my hand.
Her fingers slip into mine, warm and trembling, and I draw her gently to her feet.
The moment she’s standing, she collapses against me.
Her cheek rests over my heart as I wrap my arms around her, and she settles into my embrace.
I kiss the top of her head, and let my hand drift through her brown, silky curls.
“Let’s go,” she murmurs into my shirt, soft but certain.
I ease her face back, brushing my thumb along her jaw.
“Now who’s being bossy?” I ask, playfully. She laughs, the sound small and beautiful as I press a lingering kiss to her nose. It’s enough to make her smile against the ache. And is exactly what I crave in this moment.
Faint footsteps come from the area to our left.
My head snaps in the direction. Rose stands grabbing onto my forearm.
“Did you hear that?” she asks. I nod as I scan the area again.
Nothing’s out of the ordinary. There are the puddles, the empty spaces, a few parked cars scattered, but nothing else. “I did. But I think it’s clear.”
I could have sworn I heard footsteps though.
With one last glance back at the scene of her mom’s disappearance, Rose clenches my hand, and we start toward wherever this stupid stairwell is. The sound of the storm is still pounding above us.
As we pass the non-working elevator, movement jumps in my periphery. Something shifts in the shadows near the far wall.
“Stay behind me,” I demand quietly, stepping slightly around Rose.
A shape emerges, slow and deliberate.
This isn’t a hotel patron making their way to their car. Or someone arriving to get a late-night drink at the hotel bar. No, this is different. I narrow my eyes immediately, assessing the figure. It’s a man. Tall, with broad shoulders and dressed in dark colors.
With calculated movements, he walks toward us. Instinct takes over; my hand hovers near my weapon, every sense locked on high alert.
Lightning flashes, and he comes into full view.
“Niko,” Rose breathes as she steps around me. Multiple questions fill my brain and her face.
Why is he lurking around here?
Was he watching us?
Or following us?
He steps fully into the light, with water dripping from his clothes and hair. His expression is like stone, completely unreadable. Dread fills my whole body.
“Didn’t expect to see you two down here,” he says evenly. “Quite the storm, huh?”
But something in his tone sets my instincts off. My hand hovers and stays steady over my weapon. Rose inches closer to me, her body coiled tight.
Because I don’t think Niko happened to be here.