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“Cole, please…”
He opens the car door, grabs a handful of my hair, and he drags me from the car. The gun is still firmly in place. My eyes flicker to the house. Oh no… Brock.
“Ouch!” I cry. “You’re hurting me.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you in a minute. Give me the memory stick.”
“I don’t have it,” I whisper. “I swear, I don’t.”
He hits me hard across the face with the barrel of the gun. Pain sears through my head and I become dizzy before I fall the ground. He kicks me hard in the stomach, and then he pulls me down the driveway and into the forest.
Oh my God, help me.
Brock
I answer my phone and hear Joshua’s deep voice. “Hey, fuck knuckle.”
I chuckle. “Oh, it’s you, you ugly prick.”
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Picking up a phone for a pain in the ass client. What are you doing?”
“I’m still at work. I was calling to see if you wanted to come to Kamala with us. Bring your new girl if you want.”
I walk around the back and struggle with the key. It’s sticking and won’t open the door properly. I stand and jiggle it for a few moments as I try to loosen it. Finally, it clicks and turns.
“When are you going?” I ask.
“June, I think. We’re waiting for the twins to arrive, and then we’ll head over for a month. I’ll be working from there.”
I narrow my eyes as I consider his offer. I’m not even with my new girl anymore. “I’m not sure. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to think about it,” I reply. “Hey, how did you get on at the weekend?” I ask. Joshua played in a major polo tournament over the last few days.
“We kicked some ass,” he tells me. “Hey, Ben told me you are having some issues with your chick.”
I roll my eyes. Now we get to the real reason he’s calling. “Nothing for you to worry about, Nana.” I sigh.
“You know why I’m calling?” He laughs.
“Tell Natasha to butt the fuck out.” I sigh again. Obviously, Tash has made him call and check up on me. “Listen, I got to go. I’m working.”
“Yeah, okay. Think about Kamala. Ben and Didge can’t come this year because of the babies.”
I smile. “Sounds fucking weird, doesn’t it? Babies, as in plural.”
“Fuck, I know. They’re going to know their alive real soon. Catch you later.” He hangs up the call, and I hear the car door slam shut.
Tully must have got sick of waiting and is coming to see where I am. I go to retrieve the phone but it’s not in the kitchen like they said it should be. I go into the living area and check there. I can’t find it. I wander into the bedroom where she was sleeping. Ben said it was on charge.
I dial his number.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he answers.
“Where’s this fucking phone, man?” I ask. “It’s not where you said it was.”
“Oh, it’s in the bathroom.”
“Why the fuck is it in the bathroom charging?” I snap. “Who charges a phone in the bathroom?”
Ben chuckles. “Apparently, if it explodes, it’s less likely to start a fire.”
I roll my eyes, grab the phone and charger, and then I leave, locking the door behind me.
“How far away are you?” Ben asks as I walk down the driveway to the car.
I see the door open, and I stop dead in my tracks. I look up and down the driveway, noticing blood on the ground.
“Fuck, Tully!” I cry.
“What’s happening?” Ben asks suddenly.
“He’s got fucking, Tully. Shit, there’s blood, get over here now!”
I hang up and run down the embankment. I can see drag marks where he has pulled her. There are large drops of blood on the ground, so he’s obviously hurt her. My heart begins to hammer hard, and I run back to my car to grab my hand pistol from under the seat. I run back and slide down a muddy hill under a thick canopy of trees.
I look left and then right, trying to get my bearings. It’s just getting dark and the shadows of the trees aren’t helping. It’s eerily quiet.
What the fuck?
I pant as I try to catch my breath. I don’t want to call out and alert him to where I am, but I need to find them before they see me. I bend to the ground and put my finger through a droplet of blood. My adrenaline surges.
Not Tully. You’re not getting Tully.
“It’s time to give up!” I call out, and then I wait.
Silence.
Fuck, what do I do? My chest is rising and falling as I suck in some much-needed air. I run back to my car and flick open the glovebox, searching through it manically.
Bingo! The memory stick with photos of Hawaii on it.
I run back down the embankment. “I have the memory stick!” I call out.
