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I’ve run several feet through the trees when the sound of a car door slamming shut reaches me, and I increase my pace, bursting out the other side of the trees onto the road we turned off on our way here to see a black van wheel-spinning away down the road.
I access the camera on my phone, snapping several shots and hoping they are clear enough to see the number plate.
Spinning on my heels, I run back to the car, and just as I slip in the driver’s side, jamming the phone back into the cradle and begin reversing down the dirt track, my phone rings.
“Ryder, I need you—”
“Rick, I need you here now, man,” he says, cutting me off, and a thread of panic travels up my spine at his tone.
“Ryder?”
“Max is missing, Rick. I’m so fuc—” I screech to a halt, the seat belt locking with the force of my stop.
“They took them both,” I mutter, as a very real fear both for my son and the woman I love runs riot through my body.
“What? What do you mean, they took them both, Rick? What the fuck happened?”
Taking a deep, calming breath, I begin to drive again. “They took Jess too, Ryder. They took them both to punish me.”
“Fuck!” he roars, as a loud bang echoes down the phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Heavy breaths and anger, which practically vibrates down the line, fill the silence as I race to catch up with the black van.
“Tell me what happened?” I ask, attempting to keep focused and calm instead of allowing the fear to overrun me.
Ryder explains that he and Cam had taken the boys to the aquarium for the day, but as Cam was putting Jamison back in the car, his car seat jammed. With both their attention inside the car, Max had been trying to help by putting their bags back in the boot when a car had pulled up and snatched him.
I can hear the pain and guilt in his voice, and I immediately shut him down.
“This is not your fault, Ry. This is not Cam’s fault either. So, don’t you dare even think to blame your fucking selves.” I take a sharp bend a little too fast and have to pull it back. I spot the van just ahead, but I maintain my distance. “I’m sending some pictures of the van that took Jess, get them sent to Dean and Jay. Call Ray and send them to him. I know this is not his jurisdiction, but he’ll have a contact here. Give them everything you have on the car that took Max too. I’ll be in touch soon.” I end the call, quickly sending the pictures I took to Ryder.
Up ahead, the van rounds another bend, and as I do the same a couple of minutes behind, I almost plough into a damn tractor that has pulled out and is blocking the road.
I slam my breaks on, coming to halt a foot away, beeping my horn and waving for them to move. I curse and swear in the car because I know if I get out, I’m liable to kill someone.
When the tractor and its trailer are finally clear enough for me to pass, the van is gone, as I knew it would be.
I race down the road, but when I come to a crossroads, there’s no sign anywhere, and I have no idea which way they went.
“Fucking hell!” I roar, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. After a couple of deep breaths, I turn left and head back to the barn.
Rage is like a wildfire running through me, suffocating and burning hot, and it will not be put out until I have my son and the woman I love back.
As soon as I turn into the drive, I know something isn’t right. Passing the main house everything looks as it should, but as the barn comes into view, there’s a car parked off to the left, and I see a figure slumped outside the front door. Their head is dropped forward, hiding their face, but I can tell it’s a man. And based on their size and hair, I have a pretty good fucking idea who it is.
The knot in my stomach twists, growing larger with every step I take. If he’s here, that means they have been too. It means they’ve been watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike, bidding their time to finally take everything from me. I thought they had last time, but I was wrong. I had plenty to live for, and Jess coming into my life made me realise that. It’s the perfect plan. They dangled the carrot, and I swallowed it fucking whole. I ate the fucking bunch and more.
Dark red pools around the man propped up against my door, heavy, wheezing breaths are like a death toll chiming the end of the line.
I crouch in front of the man I respected, I trusted, a man who I fought alongside.
“Major?” I scan his body, checking his injuries, as he slowly raises his head.
“R-R-Rick, I…” He coughs and blood spills from his lips. I watch as it trickles down the side of his mouth, and my eyes fall to his open shirt. The once white shirt is now a bright, rich red, undone down to his navel. My breath catches as I realise there’s something carved into his chest.
“They…got me…good and proper, son.”
Tearing my own shirt from my body, I reach out a hand, and with two fingers, I peel back one side to get a better look. Using my shirt, I apply pressure to the wounds. When I remove it, I can see the crudely carved words in Richard’s chest;‘For the wages of sin is death’. It’s a quote from the bible, and even though I’m not particularly religious, I know exactly what it means. This is the price I must pay.
Screw that! This isn’t on me. None of it is.
