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Hero. Could it really be?
He came—he actually came…
A moment later, two more sets of legs appear behind him. My gaze moves away from him, and it doesn’t take me long to realize who the people are. All three walk fully into the basement, stopping directly in front of me.
“Mom? Dad?” Disbelief drips from my lips. There is a moment where we all just look at each other. I blink slowly.
They can’t really be here. If they were, they’d be helping me, right? That’s what parents do. They help you—they protect you.
Not my parents, though. They just stand there and stare, like I’m a specter on display.
“This was not the deal we made,” my father announces, sounding way less concerned than a father should seeing his daughter tied up, bruised, and locked in a basement. He says it more like he ordered a burger without pickles and they put the pickles on it anyway. Annoyance. Impatience. That’s all I am to him.
My mom says nothing at all, which is worse, but not at all surprising.
“Help me,” I whimper, begging my mother, pleading with her.
She looks at Hero’s dad. “We’ll take her home now.”
Relief almost floods me. If they get me out of here, I can run away and back to Hero.
“No can do. I need your daughter for a little while longer. I told you, you could see her, but you can’t take her. You saw her. You know she is alive. Now, leave.” He gestures for them to head back up the stairs.
“We want to take her home now,” my mother demands.
Hero’s dad slips his hand into the back of his pockets and retrieves something, pointing it at my parents.
A gun, a knife maybe? I can’t tell with my one eye.
My mom gasps, and my dad takes a step back, putting his hands up in the air.
“I said you can’t take her right now. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. If it comes down to it, I’ll fucking kill all of you.” He motions the gun to each of us, pure death shining in his eyes. “Now, get the fuck out of here.”
“Okay, okay, we are going.” With his hands still in the air, my dad walks backwards toward the stairs. He stumbles over his feet and turns around to face the stairs once he touches them.
When my mother follows closely behind him, I lose all hope.
“No, Mom…please. Dad, don’t leave me here. Please!” I cry out, but neither stops walking. Each step they take away from me pierces me straight in the heart.
The last thing I see is my mom mouthing, “Sorry,” before they disappear upstairs.
I’ll never forgive them for this. Never.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hero
I grip my phone so tightly in my hand, I’m close to snapping the damn thing. I will kill him. I will kill my father. I’ve watched the video ten times already. Part of me does it to look for clues that might help figure out where she is. The other reason is to torture myself.
This is all my fault. Every decision I made from the moment I stole our first kiss has led us here.
My sweet Elyse is in my father’s clutches.
And I’m going to kill him for touching her. I don’t care if I go back to prison for the rest of my life. I will kill him.
I already have the cash in hand, I just need him to call. I’ll bring him the money, show it to him so he’ll let her go, then slash his fucking throat
I sit on the couch, the same couch we fucked on. Elyse’s scent swirls around me, haunting me. When this is all over…
I don’t get a chance to finish my thought because a knock on my door drags me out of the daydream.
I get up and walk to the door, already feeling sorry for whoever is on the other side. I pull the door open, my hand fisting the knob so hard, I’m surprised I didn’t rip it from the door itself. My eyes round when I find Elyse’s parents standing there.
Her mom is crying, holding a tissue at the tip of her nose. Her eyes are bloodshot, and she looks like she’s going to be sick.
“Can we come in, Hero?” her dad asks, catching me off guard with his tone.
What the fuck?
I’m a second away from slamming the door in their faces when her mother starts talking. “Please, Hero,” she sniffles. “It’s about Elyse. She’s in trouble.”
“I know she is. The question is how do you fucking know?” I snarl, on the verge of coming unhinged.
This doesn’t make sense. Is my dad asking them for ransom too?
“We know where she is.” Elyse’s dad hands me a piece of paper.
If they didn’t have my full attention before, they have it now. I unfold it immediately and read the address scribbled on it. “This is where she is? You’re sure?” I don’t even care how they got this information, or how they found out about it. All I care about is finding her—now. The thought of her remaining in his hands a second longer has me dashing out the door.
