Page 40 of Until Easton

YOU WILL LOVE ME.

The air is sucked from my lungs, and I can't breathe. This can't be happening.

"Easton." Arthur's voice waivers as I go to pass him the letter. "Look." He motions the beam from the flashlight moving across and up the leather seat. There on the headrest is a small amount of blood. The blood in my veins runs cold. Please, fuck no. I swallow the lump in my throat and hand him the letter. I can't even look at him while he reads. I can't bear it. This is all my fault. I should have never come here, bringing my trouble with me.

Bright beams of light shine from behind us, and I shield my eyes to make out who it could be. The truck pulls up alongside Becca's truck, and the window lowers, revealing Jax's face. The look he gives me causes the muscles in my body to lock up. I know whatever he has to say is nothing I want to hear. My feet feel as though they're welded to the asphalt beneath my feet. Arthur is quickly at my side. "Please tell me you know where Becca is." By the way, Jax's face falls; he has no clue.

"I was just on my way out to the ranch. I have no idea where Becca is," he says.

"A low-life piece of trash has my granddaughter." Arthur shoves the letter at Jax.

Jax's eyes scan the short letter. "Shit." He pauses for a second too long.

"Son, you'd better spit out whatever you came out here to say," Arthur demands, his voice strong with worry.

"We have reason to believe the person behind the letter, and the break-in at your apartment was Mallory Vargas," Jax states.

"My publicist Mallory?" I'm in disbelief. Yet, the more I give it thought the more it starts to make sense. Why couldn't I see it before? Her persistence for us to get together, trying to push a narrative that I'm more important than my bandmates, the way she acted in the elevator that day towards Becca.

"Easton," Jax says and I look at him. "I put a call into a tech guy we work with from time to time and were able to obtain her cell phone information and track down her location." Jax looks between me and Arthur. "Mallory is here."

It feels like my heart is ripped from my chest. "Where?"

"Somewhere near Miller Road."

"The old Fulton home," Arthur says. "It's hard to find unless you know what you're looking for. I'll show you the way."

"Get in," Jax tells us both, and Becca's grandfather climbs into Jax's truck, but I decide on taking my own.

"I'm right behind you."

14

BECCA

I wake up with a pounding in my head and try prying my eyes open, but they feel heavy. I'm suddenly assaulted with the overwhelming need to vomit and double over. I take deep breaths in, trying to let the feeling pass before getting the urge under control.

I lift my hand, touching the source of my pain. Pulling away, I find the tips of my fingers coated with blood. Panic sets in. Blood starts pounding in my ears as my heart beats wildly in my chest. My hands begin shaking, and my vision blurs. I need to get out of here.

Pushing against the dingy floor, I slowly get to my feet and stand on unsteady legs. I take in my surroundings. I'm in an older house, the size of a shack. I look to the floor. The carpet is dirty, and the musty smell of mold is almost too much to breathe. Focus. I try desperately to fight off another dizzy spell. I'm standing in a living room furnished with a ratty sofa, covered with burn holes in the cushions, and a small round table sitting in the far-right corner of the room. The only light source is coming from a floor lamp beside the front door.

A movement to the left of me catches my attention. Through the cracked windowpane, I notice someone pacing back and forth with a phone to their ear. I squint, trying to make out the person's face. It's too dark to make out any features, but their side profile looks familiar.

It takes a moment for my memory to come back, going to the bank, my truck breaking down on the way home.

My eyes widen as the events fall into place. My kidnapper turns entirely toward the window, and her gaze zeros in on me. Pure disdain crosses her features just before she crashes through the front door.

Even though my entire body is screaming in pain, I rush forward, hoping to force my way out of the home, but stop short, coming face to face with the barrel end of a gun.

"Don't even think about moving, bitch," Mallory sneers.

I raise my hands, showing her I'm not a threat. "What are you doing?" I'm careful not to move and keep my tone calm.

"I'm doing Easton a favor. You thought you could swoop right into his life and screw up what he and I have?" Mallory takes a step closer, and her hand holding the gun starts shaking. "Well, you're wrong, you little slut. I'm going to save him."

She is deranged. This woman is off her rocker. "Save him? Mallory, Easton doesn't need saving." When those words leap from my mouth, a feral look crosses Mallory's face, and her eyes appear to glaze over.

"You brainwashed him!" she screams. "He and I had something special before you came along. He was starting to see it. Everything would have been fine if that son of a bitch Miles hadn't convinced Easton to leave." Her lips lift in a sinister smile. "He deserved what he got too." Lightheadedness causes me to sway, and I stumble but catch myself before falling. Stay focused. I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to clear the fog from my head. "Then you come along, corrupting his head, making him fall in love with you, and forgetting about me." Mallory's movements become frantic with her increased rage and frustration. "Easton doesn't see what I see. He can't see you for the manipulative, gold digger you truly are." She laughs manically. "Oh, but you are good, I'll give you that. You even managed to have him save your stupid little ranch by paying the bank off. Luckily, Easton can count on me to fix this. I'm going to take care of everything."