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“Jasmine, I don’t know what has happened, but Migan would never hurt anyone on purpose. We were all friends. Right?” I have to reach her somehow before... “Ouch,” I scream out as the pain in my abdomen gets worse. It’s then that I look down and see blood on my dress, and I start to freak out. “Oh, God. I’m bleeding. Where is it coming from?” I yell out, my bound hands rendering me helpless and unable to check my body. “Jasmine, please. I’m pregnant. My babies...” I sob as the fear creeps on me at a steady pace, not relenting.
“Please. You're fine. For now. I tried getting to your friend, but that bitch is more guarded than the queen. So, I had to go with the next best option. Think the guilt from me killing you will kill her?” She sneers in my face. The situation I am in is now real, and all I can think of is my husband and children. The one born and the two not yet here.
“Jasmine, please. Whatever you think Migan did, I have done nothing to you.” Apparently, that was not the right thing to say. She rushes me and holds a knife to my stomach.
“You were there. You supported her, which made you my enemy.”
“So what’s your endgame? I mean, where do you think you are going to end up besides a fashion designer for a women’s correctional facility. What could this possibly get you?”
“That’s simple. She took from me. Now, I take from her.” I watch in horror as she pulls a gun out, and now… all I can do is close my eyes and pray Jace finds me. I should have stayed in the house.
Chapter Six
Jace
Racing into the house, the first thing I notice is that dinner is burning. In the kitchen, I turn the burners off. There’s no sign of Penny anywhere. I don't hear her off-key singing or her talking on the phone. Upstairs, I check everywhere, before hearing Zeb laughing in his room. When I see that she’s not in there, I lose it. She’d never leave him alone. Ever. I scoop him up and continue my search outside. My chest is constricting and is heavy, but if I show any sign of panic, Zeb will pick up on it. I can’t let that happen. I’ll move heaven and earth to get his mother back to us safely.
In the yard, very near the back door, I find the baby monitor, her iPod, and one of her ear pods but no trace of her. With Zeb in one arm, I dig in my pocket with the other. I pull my phone out and begin to call my brothers, followed by the Jorgensen’s, all the girls, the cops, everyone. I call everyone I think of. They converge on the house one by one, and I relay the few details that I have.
“Where is my sister?” Ava asks, tears streaming down her face.
“I don’t know, but when I find out, I’ll get her and bring her back.”
“It’s all my fault. I thought it might be Jasmine. I should have said something sooner. If I had, Penny would be here now.” Migan cries out.
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that. No need to beat yourself about it now,” Ava says, pulling her into a hug.
“Exactly. All we can do is get Penny back,” I tell them. No one else needs to feel the gut-wrenching fear I do. If I can spare them that, that’ll be a good thing.
I pace around the living room, still holding Zeb. Every time I try to set him down, he screams for me. He’s sleeping with his head resting on my shoulder. The pacing is giving me something to do when everything else seems out of my control. Hell, everything has been out of my control since Christmas, and I don’t like that feeling.
It seems like everyone is on the phone with someone, and the room is abuzz with chatter. Every other word is Penny or Penelope Jane. I should be doing more, but I don’t know where to start.
I turn my head as the front door bursts open, banging off of the wall behind it. Officer Montgomery comes into the room.
“I found her.”
“You found Penny?” I ask, knowing it’s what everyone is thinking.
“Not exactly, but hopefully. I found Jasmine Bradbury. We were staking out the hotel and the bed and breakfasts, but we didn’t think about hosted lodging. The Carmichael’s are leasing out their house for short stays.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want those things here, I voted no, but the council thinks they know better,” Leif barks.
“They are no different than a hotel, boss,” Montgomery says.
“Bullshit. Hotels take copies of driver's licenses and license plates. I bet the Carmichael’s didn’t do that.”
