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We check around each corner, slowly moving as a group looking in each office and cubicle. There’s no movement, no noise, and no sign of life. It’s like no one has been here in years.
It’s ominous.
Eerie.
Unnerving.
We make it to my office last and there’s no sign of anything we’re looking for.
What fucking game is he playing?
Lya is carefully studying her phone when I walk up to her. “Can you pull up the other floors?” I ask.
She sighs, a low rumble of a growl on the end of it. “I’ve scanned each floor and I don’t see anything there either. Nothing at all.” She sounds as defeated as I feel. Anger bubbles under my skin, realizing this was likely a fucking game that monster wants to play. I pace around my office, my fingers running through my short hair. “Let's split up. Search every fucking floor until there’s not one inch left unturned.”
“Nix, I don’t think we should split up. We need to do this together.” Rush breaks through the tension. I know he’s just trying to keep us safe, but he’s pissing me off. We can cover more ground if we split up. Plus, our eyes and ears are better than some fucking camera. My fist slams down on the papers covering my desk before I swipe every single thing onto the ground. I’m so wound up and frustrated I can barely keep a handle on my emotions.
“Man, calm down,” Reilly says at the same time Lya whispers, “The tracker.” My eyes flick to her to find her staring at her phone, mouth wide open in horror.
“The tracker?” My voice is frantic. “What happened? Where is it? Is she moving?”
“It’s…it’s gone. It cut out.” Her voice sounds hollow and my stomach drops. “It just cut out.” Her cheeks redden, the panic on her face intensifying as she looks up at me. Her fingers frantically move across the small screen, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Snatching the phone from her, I see what she’s talking about. The red dot is just—gone.
“How can it just cut out? How?” I begin to pace back and forth again, stepping over all the papers and office supplies I scattered, but a red envelope catches my eye. Picking it up, I find handwriting I’m not familiar with. I don’t recall seeing this envelope on my desk when I was here last. One of my staff could have put it here when I was out. But for some reason, something about this envelope has me feeling unsettled.
All it says on the front is “A gift for Marnix Taylor.”
The only person who ever called me Marnix was my father—until Tara came along. I guess Lya has been calling me that too, but she’s likely heard it from Tara.
“What is it?” Reilly asks, nervously pulling on his ear.
I shake my head as I open the envelope. Inside I see what looks like a shattered SIM card from a cell phone along with a note. My heart sinks. Deep down inside I already know what this is. Pulling out the small slip of paper, I hand the envelope over to Lya to see if it’s Tara’s tracker tucked inside.
“You must’ve crushed it when you hit your desk which caused it to stop working.” She stares at the ruined pieces and holds her hand over her mouth like she’s going to vomit. “He…he cut it out of her. He found it and used it against us. We have no idea where she is now. He could be hiding her anywhere. They could be long gone and we would never know.”
I unfold the note, instantly feeling sick. It’s written in almost perfect cursive, reminding me who holds the power right now, and it’s sure as hell not me.
Thanks for bringing my dahlia back to me. You made it easier than I could’ve ever imagined. Don’t try looking for her because you’ll never get her back. Not like she’ll even remember your name now that I’ve had my fill of her. -Z
My hands go limp as I read the last word aloud and the note falls to the floor. My vision blurs before my emotions explode like a bomb. Rage consumes me as I piece together the double meaning of his smug words. “That fucking bastard!” The screaming anger rips from me like a beast from Hell. I want to destroy everything in my path. I want to torture this motherfucker until there’s nothing left of him. Then I want to kill him for what he’s done to Tara. “Can you track her past locations before the tracker went off? We need to look at the camera footage to see when he was here. Maybe the camera in the parking lot picked up his vehicle and license plate.”
Lya nods. “We can try. We’ll need to set up a system and get organized. There could be hours of footage we need to sort through with a shit ton of cameras.” I hate that she can’t give me a definitive answer but I know she can’t guarantee anything.
“Let’s go. This motherfucker has a ticking clock that's going to end very soon. He won’t win this.” Everyone looks ready to murder Zayan and I can’t help but hope we get the chance.
Lya pulls out her phone to make a call. “Rian, I need you, Zep, and Thiago at Marnix’s house, now. We’ve got a situation. Bring as much tech and equipment as you can.” She listens to what he says before nodding. “I’ll fill you in when you get there.” She pauses for a second. “Yes, I’m okay. Love you too.” She hangs up, looking at me as we get on the elevator.
“We’ll get her back, and when we do, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.” Her stare never wavers from mine, reminding me she’ll make good on her promise.
Join the fucking club.
Or should I say, get in the back of the line. Everyone in this elevator wants to kick my ass, and I don’t blame them.
Curled up on my aching side, I watch Zayan slide off his boots and strip his clothes. Nausea rolls through my stomach as his boxers hit the ground with an echoing thud. Silence fills the room; I have nothing to say and don’t want to hear what he’s going to spew. I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped here, but this has become a common occurrence, happening more often than I think.
We continuously play the same “game.” We go round and round every time until he slowly breaks me down, chipping away at my stone exterior until I’m nothing but dust. It’s fucking mind-numbing, degrading, and exhausting for me. Not for Zayan, though. He loves to see how far he can push me until I crumble. I’m trying so hard to be strong, but the cracks are starting to flow through me.
I’m barely keeping my head above water, feeling the pull dragging me down each minute, but I won’t let him take all of me. I can’t. I can’t let him do that to me again. I’ve built myself up too high to let him tear me down so easily.
