Chapter 32: Chapter 32
Thirty Two - Prisoner.
My eyes flutter open and I groan, a wave of pain shooting down my body. The pounding in my head begins to intensify and I groan again, louder this time. Everything begins to rush back to me, the memory hitting me worse than the ache I'm feeling. DC Jones, the pub, the drink. . .
I'm fully awake now, my eyes wide with fear. I look down and realise my hands are tied with a thick rope, double knotted.
"What the hell," I breathe out, unable to believe what I'm seeing. I tug on the ropes desperately but instead of loosening, they tighten further causing pain to the tender skin on my wrists. I glance around the floor to find some sort of object to use. No luck.
The room is small and square, the walls covered in a floral wallpaper that's peeling from every corner. Yellow stains and mould collects on the ceiling. The mahogany furniture along with the floor is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. Sunlight streams in from a small window just below the ceiling that's protected by a metal cage. Is that to stop things from getting in or from me getting out?
I breathe in heavily and pull again on the ropes, the feeling of desperation increasing. Fear and shock settles inside my stomach as I realise the psychopath kidnapped me. Both my hands are tied and my right foot is also roped to the metal frames of a rusty single bed.
The bed is filthy with a dirty stained mattress an inch thick. I grimace at the sheer filthiness of the whole room and instead focus my attention on getting the hell out of here. I face the wooden door on the other side of the room, holding my breath as I listen out for any noise behind it.
Complete silence surrounds me.
It's obviously the next day considering I had met DC Jones last night. That meant I was with him all night, unconscious. The thought of that alone made me feel sick. A shiver runs down my body and I grimace, glancing down to study my clothes. Thank god I'm still fully dressed. A single tear falls down my cheek and I curse myself for crying.
Why does everyone want to hurt me?
Ever since my dad died, my life spiralled downhill. My life has completely flipped upside down and now I'm going to die. DC Jones is a psychopath, the situation I'm in confirmed that for me. I begin to hyperventilate. . . Like full on, cannot breathe. Lungs on strike.
Another tear escapes my eye landing on the filthy floor. I twist my body until I'm in a more comfortable position and lay my head over my arms, closing my eyes. I focus on my breathing and Jake's face flashes through my mind. I whimper at the thought of never seeing him again, never feeling his arms around me, never feeling his lips on mine. I suddenly ache for him, wanting him to come get me out of this mess so we can go back to eating pancakes together and annoying each other.
Stop it Emily. You can get out of this.
"Damn right I can," I whisper, wiping the tears away quickly with my arm as I feel hope flood through me.
"Screw this, screw him." I protest. I knew Jake would want me to be strong, he'd want me to fight like he had taught me to. I try to put myself inside Jake's mind, react the way he would in this situation.
My eyes desperately scan the room once again and I attempt to undo the ropes but they don't budge. I'm not as strong as Jake and nowhere near as smart.
I cry out in frustration, tugging harder at the ropes on my arms. The ropes only tighten reminding me of my new prisoner status. I grit my teeth in defeat and do the one thing I can in hopes of getting out of here.
I scream for help.
*****
Jakes POV -
"What do you mean, she's not here?" I ask harshly, pushing the door back and storming inside Trish's house. I make my way to the living room and push open the door searching for Emily.
"Where is she Trish?" I ask, my voice rising slightly. Trish backs away from me, her eyes wide with fear. I mentally roll my own at her reaction, everyone is always so scared of the boy with a reputation. As if I would ever lay hands on a female, I'm not a complete heartless thug.
"I'm not going to hurt you, just tell me where she is." I say firmly, my patience running low.
"I don't know where she is, we never even met after college! Honestly Jake, I don't know." Trish pleads with me and I know from the look in her eyes that she's telling me the truth.
Emily lied to me.
I grit my teeth and storm out, slamming the front door behind me. I can't believe Emily lied to me, she's been gone for hours.
I storm off in the opposite direction, heading for a house I never want to visit again. I push my way through the rubbish and pound on the front door. When I get no answer I knock again, bouncing on the heels of my trainers in an effort to keep me warm. As each hour passes into the night, the air became colder and harsher and my jacket isn't enough to keep me warm. The front door swings open and I come face to face with Emily's mum. The resemblance between her and her daughter is almost scary. Long dark hair, tanned skin and large brown eyes. I'm first one to break the silence between us.
"Sorry to interrupt you Mrs . . ." I wonder off, waiting for her to confirm her name. She closes the door over a little, protecting herself from me and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes once again.
"Mrs Cole," she says quietly before staring me down once again. I realise she's taken Trevor's last name. Imagine sharing a last name with that waste of space, I'd rather stick a fork through my own eyeball. . .
"Is Emily here? Have you seen her?" I ask quickly. The look on her face as I ask the question already has me knowing the answer. She isn't here.
"No, I thought she was living with you. Goodness knows where she's ran off to now, she's always been trouble." Mrs Cole replies, shaking her head disappointingly. Her words turn icy whenever she speaks of Emily and I glare at her, disappointed for Emily that this is her mother.
She deserves a better parent.
"Trouble? You think Emily is trouble? How much trouble can she be when your husband was beating her so she had to lock herself in her own room for years?" I ask her, my voice raising with anger.
Mrs Cole appears taken aback before she huffs dramatically and slam the door in my face, causing it to shake on its hinges. I grit my teeth and walk away, pulling my phone out of my pocket. He's my last hope and I pray he knows where she is. I dial the number and wait for him to pick up.
"Hello?"
His voice is as smooth and deep as ever.
"Amil, I need your help. It's Emily." I reply, leaning against a brick wall at the end of the street. I kick around a stone, waiting for my boss to respond.
"She's missing, isn't she?"
His tone dull and uninterested. I stand up straighter, clutching onto the phone tighter.
"You knew and you didn't tell me?" I snap back at him, the anger inside of me ready to burst.
"Jake, Jake, Jake. . . Jones has her. That's why I didn't tell you. The girl is probably dead by now."
I freeze and feel my heart physically fall to the pit of my stomach. An emotion I'm not accustomed to feeling washes over me and I realise it's fear.
"You have to tell me where he is. I'll find him and I'll kill him. I swear if he's hurt her, I'll kill him!" I yell, becoming increasingly desperate and scared. Scared that I'll never see her again. I pace up and down the sidewalk, tugging at my hair with my free hand. My blood runs cold knowing Jones has her, he finally got what he wanted. I didn't realise just how crazy he really was.
Did he do this to get back at me or Amil?
If not, how does he know Emily?
My mind buzzes and I feel the need to hit something or someone stronger than I ever have before.
"Jake, she is just a girl. Let her go," Amil says trying but failing to calm me down. The lid on top of my bottle of anger finally exploded.
'She isn't just a girl Amil! She's my girl. What happened to having each other's backs? I've been loyal to you for years, I've never asked for anything in return. This one time I ask for your help and you refuse. You've wanted Jones dead for a long time, he betrayed us! This is your chance, he won't see it coming and we can catch him by surprise. Even if you don't help me, I'll go and get Emily back myself and whilst I'm there, I'll kill Jones. If he manages to put a bullet through me first then I guess you'll end up losing one of your best. The only one who doesn't ask questions and gets shit done! Every damn time."
My words holds truth behind every single one and I pause, breathing heavily whilst waiting for his response. He's silent for a few minutes and I can practically see the gears working inside of his head. Finally after what seems like a century he replies —
"We better kill him before he kills you."
I let out the deep breath I didn't realise I was holding and closed my eyes, feeling extremely relieved. With the gang having my back, I knew the chances of getting Emily back was a lot higher. I put the phone back next to my ear —
"Thank you," I whisper gratefully before ending the call. I push myself off the wall and head in the direction where I know he'll be waiting. Along the way, I mentally prepare myself for the fight we have ahead of us. Shit is about to go down.
Amil's daunting words keep repeating in my head no matter how hard I try to ignore them.
The girl is probably already dead by now.
I shake my head profusely, refusing to believe his words. She can't be dead, I've only just opened myself up to love again and I'm not ready to have the best thing that ever happened to me ripped away so brutally.
I'm going to get her back. . . Even if it kills me.