Page 72 of Fractured Hearts

No, that doesn’t make sense because that’s the only room that reminded me of a country. There are several bathrooms that resemble the one attached to my bedroom in my house. He’s been in my house plenty of times when we thought he was Jon, but I wasn’t aware he saw my bathroom. One bedroom is decorated like a fairytale forest, while another is black and white, like the first house I bought. He showed me a recording studio and a library. I didn’t get a close look at either, but I have a sick feeling my bass and books from my house are here.

I want to scream in frustration. Jo would have this all figured out, along with an escape route and a place to stop for lunch. Ezra would have our backs and know what needs to get done to leave this weird place. I’m so utterly lost without them already, and I barely got to have them both.

I noticed he didn’t show me the basement. There’s a wine cellar down there, or at least there was. If he had Jo and Ezra chained up anywhere, that’s where they would be. Assuming they’re still alive. I have to believe they are or I won’t survive. I’ll be begging Patrick to take a knife to my throat. I want to ask him. I need to ask him, but I’m so scared of the answer my throat keeps closing on the question.

I’ve tried to keep the panic at bay as I’m being dragged around the house. My best chance is to get outside and scream for help. The neighbors are close enough that they should hear me. Or do I go to the basement first? If they’re not there, I’d be wasting precious time, but if they are and I leave them, Patrick could kill them while I’m getting help.

The doors don’t have any extra locks and neither do the windows from what I’ve been able to see on this fever dream of a house tour. Which makes this even more confusing. Don’t you want the person you kidnapped to stay kidnapped? I’m no expert, but none of this is making sense. Maybe I’m just having a really vivid and bizarre nightmare.

“You love it, don’t you? I knew you would,” Patrick sing-songs as he pulls me along to the last room on the second floor. “Now, this is the best part!” He smiles and throws open the double doors. I walk in beside him, not that I have a choice, to see a beautiful bedroom. Deep blue walls, with a dark wood king-size bed. Linens in brown, gray, and blue. Black and white photographs that I recognize in thin black frames with a thick white border hang above the bed.

I want to cry or maybe throw up everywhere. This isn’t just a beautiful bedroom, it’s the bedroom Ezra and I designed. Those photographs are ones he took. Everything clicks into place. The plans for this room were in a scrapbook we made in college when we were dreaming up our life together. That scrapbook was in a box along with a few other items I took with me when I left my parent’s house. This house.

“It’s for me. You designed this house for me.” I can feel my limbs going numb, my ears ring, and I can’t get my chest to expand so I can breathe. Patrick says something I don’t hear before my vision goes black and my knees give out. I feel pain in my shoulder, but only for a moment before I feel nothing at all.

seventy-four

JO

I don’t get it. He’s supposed to be here. I’m standing in the barn that Gianna was murdered in with my phone in hand, pacing to see if it’s just my reception telling me I’m in the right spot.

“Did you find him?” Cal asks, answering on the first ring.

“No. There’s no one here,” I say, exasperated. “Cal . . . it’s the barn. The location you sent me is the barn from Ezra’s recording.”

I hear some muttering and a quick “give me that” from Harlow before my best friend’s voice fills the space with her no-nonsense tone.

“You need to check the area. It’s still pinging at your location. Maybe look for a basement or root cellar? Maine doesn’t really do storm cellars, but whoever owned that property could have been a doomsday prepper and have a bunker or something. The tracker gives us about half a mile to work with, so you need to look.”

“Right. Okay,” I say and take a deep breath. The terror that I was barely holding back the moment I walked into the rotting, but completely empty, barn evaporates. I needed a task and Harlow knew it, so she gave me one. She’s right, but she’s also wrong. Right that we have half a mile to look in any direction, but wrong because these trackers rely on other devices to bounce off of and send a signal. There’s a chance Maverick and Ezra were here, but no longer are and just aren’t near a device with internet. Or they’re still here, and I’m wasting time panicking and overthinking.

“Do barns have basements? Maybe they’re just downstairs.” I hear Cal whisper-shout.

“How the hell would I know if barns have basements? We grew up next to the ocean,” Harlow yells back at him.

“Well, we didn’t know that corn fields had tornado shelters either and look how that turned out!”

“Uh, guys? I’m going to look around and call you back.” I hang up without waiting for a response.

I barely make it three steps before I hear the sound of feet crunching on the frosty leaves outside. I hide behind the rotting pile of hay next to me, trying to stay silent on my feet, but I swear the whole building groans every time I so much as breathe too hard. There’s definitely more than one person coming this way. It sounds like a herd of animals with how loud they’re being. Although, who would think they need to be quiet when approaching an abandoned barn in the middle of the woods? Hikers and the bad guys, probably.

“I swear if she isn’t in here, I’m going to skin her when we find her.” My shoulders relax at the sound of Willa’s voice. Even with the threat of bodily harm.

“I’m over here,” I announce loudly. I know they all have weapons, and my guys don’t have time for me to be held up after accidentally being shot by our friends.

I’m enveloped by several sets of arms before I’m even fully out from behind the hay. “Don’t you sneak off like that again!” Willa is squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe while berating me on my stupid choices.

“I love you, but if you do that to me again, I will lock you in my basement.”

I don’t think she’s kidding and from the quick glance I give around the room, I’m pretty sure all of them will help her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but as you can see,” I say, gesturing to the empty space. “They’re not here.”

“We know the tracker wasn’t exact. Let’s spread out, but not too far. Yell if you find anything,” Harrison says and exits the barn the same way he came in.

“Harlow suggested there could be some sort of root cellar or prepper bunker on the property.”

“What about a house?” Belle says, frowning as she looks around. “It seems strange that it’s just this barn out here and nothing else.”