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“Thanks,” I muttered, slightly ashamed I’d lost the plot.
“It’s OK. We’ll find her.” To my surprise, he pulled me close for a moment. I had a feeling it was more for his benefit than mine. Brax wasn’t one for bro hugs usually, so if he needed one, he was on the edge too. I guessed we all were, even if they were better at hiding it than me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was spiraling there.” I scrubbed my jaw and flopped down on the sofa.
“I know. We all are. I just wish Norcross would hurry the fuck up then maybe we can start looking for her.”
“All the street cams were wiped apart from one, but it’s enough to show us who took Stella,” Quinn announced. “The idiots fucked up. It’s installed outside a small store opposite the south exit. I’m guessing whoever wiped all the other CCTV footage wasn’t aware of this cam because it’s much older and on a private network. Luckily, I spotted it when we left the stadium.”
Brax and I shot across the room. We stood behind Quinn as he showed us what he’d found. The grainy footage showed Stella being supported by a tall man as she was pushed into a waiting black Escalade. It wasn’t until the final seconds that I saw the guy’s face, Brax stiffened beside me, tension radiating from his bulky frame.
“Is he the guy from the gallery?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, it’s Mateo Silva, my grandmother’s friend. At least that’s what she calls him. I’m not sure exactly who he is to her, other than the fact they’ve known each other since she was a college student.”
The guy gave off major criminal vibes. Anyone driving around in a blacked-out Escalade was a legit gangster. I’d watched Narcos. I knew all about South American drug cartels.
“Let me chase up with my contacts, hopefully, they’ve dug up something useful by now,” Quinn said.
Chapter 104
Stella
The moment I opened my eyes and moved, nausea threatened to eject the meager contents of my stomach all over the floor. I was lying on a hard mattress in a dark room with one wrist cuffed to a metal ring at the end of a chain. It gave me just enough room to move around on the mattress, but not enough to reach the walls or door. The only chink of light came from the direction of a doorway. There were no windows, so it was hard to tell if it was night or day.
The air was fetid in here. No ventilation whatsoever apart from a faint trickle of cooler air coming from the direction of the door. I listened but there was nothing. No voices, no innocuous sounds at all. Where the fuck was I?
My brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool and I struggled to make sense of things. I remembered sitting watching the game with the boys, but thereafter, it was fuzzy, like looking through a window misted with condensation. I guessed it was the aftereffects of whatever drug I’d been given.
Once the nausea eased off, I sat up. Now that my eyes had gotten used to the darkness, I could see a bottle of water on the floor next to the mattress. It looked brand-new, so I broke the seal and chugged half of it down. The tepid water eased my dry throat and helped clear some of the fog from my brain.
All of my clothing was intact, thank God, so nobody had interfered with me. Just the thought of being sexually assaulted while I was unconscious made me want to throw up all over again, but I forced the panic down. I couldn’t afford to lose my shit. Not now. I needed to stay calm and focused, so I could figure out where I was and who was holding me.
I chewed my lip and hugged myself for comfort as I tried to organize my chaotic thoughts. I remembered Mateo dragging me into the bathroom. Judging by what he’d said, this was about Dad. There was no other reason for Mateo to kidnap me. It tied in with the prison threats and me being shot. I just hoped that he needed me alive, or I was fucked. And not in a good way.
A small whimper escaped and I brushed a tear away. Be strong. You can do this. Except my usual motivational mantras weren’t working. I pictured the boys. Imagined how they were feeling right now. Especially Harley, my Casanova with a heart of gold. It didn’t help.
More salty tears escaped.
If only I’d told him…them…how I felt. Now I might not get the chance. The chain rattled as I shuffled on the mattress. Why me? I wasn’t a bad person. I never went out of my way to hurt people, yet people had no problem hurting me. I should have left NYC and disappeared into the vast population of people who had nothing and nobody. Going to college was dumb. If I had kept on moving, I’d be safe right now.
Except… I couldn’t find it in my heart to regret anything. Transferring to Ridgeview meant I’d met the boys. They were annoying, and possessive, and made me want to throat-punch them at times, but I cared about them. Loved them.
Fuck.
Did I love them? All three of them?
Love.
Dad never remarried or found a long-term girlfriend. I hadn’t loved Brody. I wasn’t sure I even knew what love was.
What I was certain of, however, was that love never panned out the way it did in romance novels. Loving someone meant opening yourself up to hurt. Before Harley, my walls were firmly in place, but he, then Quinn, had knocked them down brick by brick. Brax too.
The universe must really hate me. No sooner had I fallen in love than I was ripped away from them. Possibly permanently. Harley would survive. Quinn too.
The pair of them would move on, find someone new, and live their lives. I wasn’t so sure about Brax, though. He was barely holding it together. The last thing he needed was another emotional wound.
The idea of hurting him killed me inside. I hoped he realized I hadn’t chosen to leave him. They would know, right?
