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Sittingin the police department hours later is maddening. There were cops surrounding the parking lot, and they were able to cordon off the area. However, I overheard one of the deputies say that with the amount of traffic it had day in and out, meant they likely wouldn’t find anything. The officer looked up at my growl, and paled, and that’s when I was hauled off to the station for questioning.
I’m not a suspect, that would be ridiculous. I do think pissing off celebrities of our caliber would be dumb of them, and this city has smart officials. They’re currently scouring the streets for Lennon and Derek, with directions to treat him as a criminal for now. Turner and I were against this initially, but where the fuck is he?
Why would he leave?He could have been taken too.I don’t know which I would prefer right now. Both options suck.
Turner walks over to me and these uncomfortable as fuck chairs in the waiting area and collapses into one of them. As he hands me coffee, I grunt my thanks to him. I haven’t been very verbal outside of growling answers to officials.
“We’ll find her,” he reassures me as he takes a sip of his own drink, grimacing at the taste.
“Aye, we have to,” I rasp. I look over at Turner’s own tortured eyes that match my emotions and sigh. “I feel like they’re not doing enough,” I confess. “Whoever took her could be miles away.”
“Have you tried calling him?” asks a small voice.
Layla stands in front of me, tears streaking her face. Lenny would kick my ass if she knew I didn’t try harder with her. Fuck, I’m looking at her little sister, which means she belongs to us. Swallowing hard, I grab her hand, tugging her over to sit next to me. Layla releases a sob, trying to lock down her emotions, gasping for air in an effort to stop the tears. If I thought they would make a difference, I would probably be crying too.
“Little love,” I murmur, smoothing her hair as she rests her head on my shoulder. “I tried calling Derek, Turner did as well, and so has your uncle. The police also tried tracking his location, but the phone appears to be dead or turned off. When Derek went to see his father, I asked him to share his location at all times. His dad isn’t a very nice man,” I explain.
Layla glances up, her big blue eyes glassy. “Could he have done this?” she asks. Fuck, why didn’t I think about that? Could he be behind this?
“I don’t know, but it’s definitely on my list of things to figure out.” I promise her.
“Fuck, I’m so stupid,” Turner mutters. “Dumb, dumb, dumb,” he continues to chant.
What the fuck…?
“Baby, what are you going on about?” I ask, struggling not to tense. Layla is so close to me that she’d notice.
“I have to call Red,” Turner says with a sigh. “She may be able to help us. One of her guys works in security.”
Turner rushes out of the station with his phone in his hand and I think back to the girl I met years ago when she came to one of our shows. Red is a tiny, wild, red-haired pixie that Turner used to do gigs with before we started playing together. She has three husbands now and four children, and has always had a special place in Turner’s heart. They talk as often as they can, but all of our lives are hectic and busy.
Isn’t security supposed to be for before someone is abducted?My thoughts are disjointed as I try to figure out why Turner would be calling her, and I wonder if this is what shock looks like.
Taking a deep breath, I hear the doors open again as I try to keep everyone and myself together.
“Daddy?” Layla asks suddenly, scrambling up alarmed.
I glance up as I see James Campbell stalking towards us.
“Jordan called me, saying my daughter was abducted, and not making any sense. Of course I’m here,” he says exasperated, pulling Layla towards him to hug.
Oh fuck. Jordan, why do you have to be so damn good?
“Did you get lost, Layla? Did something happen? Why are you in the police station?” James’ voice raises as he looks down at his younger daughter.
Fuck it, I’m gonna let it ride. Maybe throw some popcorn at him. Layla isn’t the child everyone makes her out to be. She’s nineteen for god’s sake.
“Obviously Jordan was talking about your other daughter,” I tell him, ripping off the bandaid. “Remember the one you had with Carrie O’Reilly?” I enjoy watching him pale way too much.Fuck, I’m going to get so much shit later when I find my girl for being a dick to her dad, but right now I don’t give a shit.
“What? How do you know about her?” James asks, and I no longer feel bad. He’s acting as if Lennon is his dirty little secret, when she’s the sun, the moon, and everything good in this fucking world.
“Because I’m marrying her the second we find her,” I respond. “Lennon fucking O’Reilly is your daughter, you know, the lead singer ofThe Darkest Nights. Fooking moron, I have better things to do than this. Little love, do you want to come with me to see if Turner is having any luck on his call to help your sister?”
Layla steels her spine, stepping away from her piece of shit father and grabbing my outstretched hand. “Yeah. The police aren’t doing shit for her. Let’s go see Turner,” she says.
I can see the familial connection in her strength as she stands with me, and stands up for her sister. James broke something in both his daughters with his decisions, and his greatest sin against them is his absence.
Derek
