Chapter 38
The minutes tick by agonizingly slowly as I sit in the restaurant, my nerves fraying with each passing moment. I glance at my watch for what feels like the hundredth time, my heart sinking with each second that slips away.
Jessy should have been here over an hour ago. The last text she sent me was when she told me that she was dressed after I told her that my driver was out front.
The drive from her apartment to the restaurant is just thirty minutes. I reach for my phone and I dial Jessy’s number. The phone rings and rings, but there’s no answer.
I don’t know why, but panic begins to bubble up inside me, a gnawing sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach.
I have been trying to reach my driver, too, and his number isn’t going through either.
With a growing sense of dread, I end the call and try again, hoping against hope that she’ll pick up this time. But once again, the phone rings and rings, each unanswered ring sending a chill down my spine.
Just as I’m about to dial her number again, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s my driver. I answer the call with a sense of urgency, my heart pounding in my chest.
“What’s going on?” I demand, my voice tense with worry.
“Mr. Reid, I’ve been up to Miss Jessica’s apartment,” his voice comes through the line, tight with concern. “But there’s no answer. I knocked on her door several times, but she didn’t respond.”
Dread washes over me like a tidal wave as his words sink in—Jessy isn’t home. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, each one more terrifying than the last.
“She’s not picking up her phone either,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Something’s not right.”
I am paralyzed by fear as I realize that she could be in danger. Every instinct in me screams to rush to her side, to make sure she’s safe.
My heart pounds in my chest as I race out of the restaurant, my mind consumed with worry for Jessy.
The ownerof the restaurant calls out after me, confusion etched on his face, but I barely register his words as I fumble for my keys.
“Mr. Reid, is there a problem?”
“I need to check on my girlfriend,” I mumble in response, my voice strained with urgency, before bolting out the door.
“Isn’t she supposed to join you?” he calls out, his voice laced with confusion, but I don’t bother answering him.
I know he went through a lot of trouble canceling all the other guests’ reservations just so Jess and I could have the place all to ourselves.
The drive to Jessy’s apartment feels like an eternity, each passing moment weighed down by the heavy dread that gnaws at my insides. I keep trying to reach her on the phone, but it just rings without an answer.
When I finally arrive, I practically leap out of the car, my footsteps echoing in the empty street as I rush towards her building.
I bound up the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding in my ears with each step. When I reach her door, I bang on it with a sense of urgency, calling out her name desperately. But there’s no response, just an eerie silence that hangs heavy in the air.
Panic sets in as my mind races with a thousand terrible possibilities. With trembling hands, I try the doorknob, but it’s locked tight. Without hesitation, I step back and throw my shoulder against the door with all my strength.
The wood splinters under the force of my blow, and the door swings open with a loud crash. I stumble into the apartment, my heart in my throat as I take in the scene before me.
Furniture lies overturned, cushions scattered across the floor. The air is thick with tension; the atmosphere charged with an unsettling energy that sends shivers down my spine.
“Jessy?” I call out, my voice echoing in the empty room. But there’s no answer, just an oppressive silence that presses down on me like a weight.
Fear grips me like a vise as I search the apartment, my heart hammering in my chest with each passing moment.
The sight of her belongings strewn about only serves to heighten my anxiety, fueling the growing sense of dread that gnaws at me from within.
And then I notice it on the floor of her living room.
Blood! Is that Jessy’s blood?!
And as my fear spikes, I almost lose it. Without any iota of doubt, I know Jessy is in danger.
My hands tremble as I dial Chloe’s number, each ring feeling like an eternity as I wait for her to pick up. When she finally does, my words spill out in a rush, my voice tight with worry.
“Chloe, have you heard from Jessy?” I ask urgently, my heart pounding in my chest.
There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line before Chloe responds, her voice tinged with concern. “Ethan, what’s wrong?”
My throat tightens as I struggle to find the words to explain. “I...I sent my driver to pick her up for dinner, but she did not answer her door. I came to her apartment. It’s been ransacked.”
A heavy silence follows my words, the weight of the situation bearing down on me like a suffocating blanket.
“Have you tried calling her?” Chloe’s voice is filled with worry.
“Yeah, but she’s not picking up,” I reply, my voice trembling with fear. “And I found blood drops on the floor. Chloe, I don’t know what to do.”
Her sharp intake of breath echoes through the phone, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation.
“Oh my God, Ethan,” Chloe gasps, her horror palpable even through the phone. “I don’t know where she is. She was supposed to be with you.”
My heart sinks at her words, a wave of helplessness washing over me.
“Please, Chloe,” I plead, desperation seeping into my voice. “Think. Is there anywhere else she could be?”
There’s a brief pause as Chloe racks her brain for any clue that might lead us to Jessy.
“I...I don’t know,” she admits, her frustration evident in her tone.
I quickly dial Drake’s number, my heart racing as I wait for him to pick up. When he finally answers, his voice is filled with concern.
“Ethan, what’s going on?” Drake’s tone is urgent, sensing the gravity of the situation.
“Drake, I need your help,” I say, my voice tight with anxiety. “I think Jessy’s in danger.”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Drake responds, his voice serious, “Have you called the police?”
I hesitate, knowing that involving the authorities could take precious time. “Not yet,” I admit.
“But I don’t think we have time to wait for them. I need to find her now. I need your help in tracking her phone.” Drake is good at these things.
Drake lets out a sigh, understanding the urgency of the situation. “Okay, I’ll track her phone’s GPS and see if we can pinpoint her location. But Ethan, be careful. If she’s in danger, we don’t know what we’re walking into.”
“Thanks, Drake. I owe you one.” Barely holding my emotions in check.
“Don’t mention it,” he replies, his tone firm. “I’ll keep you updated on what I find.”
As I hurriedly exit Jessy’s apartment, my mind racing with worry, my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Drake. With a sense of urgency, I answer the call.
“Drake, did you find her?” I ask, barely able to contain the desperation in my voice.
“Yeah, Ethan,” Drake responds, his tone serious. “I found her location. It’s an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town.”
My heart sinks at the mention of a warehouse, a cold knot of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. “Is she okay?” I manage to choke out, my voice strained with fear.
“I don’t know, Ethan,” Drake admits. “But we need to be careful. This could be dangerous.”
“I’m heading there now,” I tell him, my voice determined. “I can’t just sit around and wait.”
Drake lets out a sigh, his concern evident. “Ethan, wait. Don’t go alone. We need to approach this carefully. I’ll meet up with you, and we’ll go together.”
Relief floods through me at his words, and I am grateful for his support in this harrowing situation. “Thanks, Drake,” I say, my voice wavering with emotion. “I’m headed to my place first.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
As I reach my penthouse, I head straight toward the secure lockbox where I keep my firearm.
Fingers trembling with a mix of anxiety and determination, I punch in the code and retrieve my trusty Glock-19 from its concealed compartment.
I holster the weapon securely at my side, the familiar click of the holster echoing through the silent penthouse.
It’s a precaution I hope I won’t need to take, but in times like these, it’s better to be prepared for the worst.
As I step back into the hallway, my mind races with thoughts of Jessy and the danger she might be facing.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts that I nearly jump out of my skin when Drake’s voice breaks through the silence.
“Ethan,” he calls out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he approaches.
I turn to face him, my expression grim as I meet his gaze. “Drake.”
“She is still at that location. We should get going.”
“Thanks for helping me out, man.”
He nods in understanding, his own expression mirroring my concern.
Drake’s eyes flicker briefly to the gun at my side, and I can see the unspoken question in his gaze. “I hope you don’t plan on using that,” he remarks, his tone tinged with caution.
I shake my head, a grim determination settling over me. “I hope I won’t have to,” I admit.
Together, we make our way out of the penthouse and into the night, the cold air biting at our skin.
As we get into my car and input the address to the warehouse into my car GPS, Drake fills me in on what he knows about the warehouse, its history, and the rumors of illicit activities.
I listen intently, my mind racing with thoughts of Jessy and the danger she might be facing.
As Drake and I arrive at the warehouse, my gaze lands on a familiar car parked in the corner, confirming my worst fear—Lysa is here.
Without hesitation, we rush inside. My senses are on high alert, and every fiber of my being is focused on finding Jessy and putting an end to Lysa’s madness.
“Lysa!” I shout, my voice echoing through the cavernous space as I catch sight of her fleeing form. “Stop right there!”
But she doesn’t heed my warning as she disappears into the shadows. Drake goes after her, and I hurry to Jessy’s side. My heart is pounding in my chest as I kneel beside her, my hands trembling as I reach out to untie her bonds.
“Jessy,” I breathe, my voice choked with emotion as I gently cradle her in my arms. “Stay with me, baby. You’re going to be okay.”
But as I loosen the ropes that bind her, my heart sinks as I see the extent of her injuries—the blood, the bruises, the torn dress clinging to her battered form.
A sense of helplessness washes over me as I realize the gravity of the situation, the fear of losing her threatening to overwhelm me.
“Please, Jessy,” I plead, my voice barely above a whisper as I press a hand to her cheek, willing her to wake up. “Don’t leave me, Jessy. Please, stay with me.”