Page 4 of Hidden Monsters

She took a longer route back to her table, using that time to reconnect with Luke. Are you still with me? Orly didn’t like losing contact with someone before they were rescued but right now it couldn’t be helped. While she could usually perform tasks and even drive while conversing with someone in her head, she wasn’t able to maintain two conversations at the same time.And Russell would definitely know if she was talking to someone in her head.

I’m here. Luke sounded a bit weaker now and more despondent. I really hope you’re real.

I’m real and I called for help. Hopefully they’ll come for you soon. Orly found Russell already at their table. A smile masked the ire in his glare when their gaze met, probably because she wasn’t there to greet him when he returned. Her first instinct was to tell him to shove it up his ass, but instead, she smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. “That was wonderful,” she praised. “I think everyone really liked hearing what you had to say.”

“At least you were paying attention,” Russell snapped, before turning to an officer who’d approached them.

Orly forced a smile and carefully slipped her fingers around Russell’s arm just above his elbow. A perfect show of unity and support. She wanted to reach back out to Luke but with Russell standing right there it was too risky. If he caught her using her ability there would be hell to pay later and her body still ached from the last time he’d put his hands on her. She could only hope her call was taken seriously and help was on the way.

Chapter 2

Dallas Police Detective Luke Harmon sat on a cold cement floor. The thick ropes binding his hands and feet dug painfully into his skin, creating rivulets of blood between his fingers and down his heels. His jeans were soaked through with rain water that came in from the storm last night through a haphazardly boarded over skylight and his t-shirt was torn in various places. He was filthy, and reeked of blood and sweat, but his nostrils had long since stopped flaring at the horrific stench in the room. His eyes had also adjusted to the near constant darkness he was kept in.

The room they’d left him in wasn’t much larger than his guest bathroom. Only instead of newly painted walls and nice fixtures, the walls were covered in stains. Random bugs and little flies visited him on occasion, making his skin crawl and itch, but he was helpless to alleviate anything out of his minimal reach. Having his hands tied behind his back and his legs bound in front of him, there was little freedom of movement. Yet the agony of having his extremities go numb was nothing compared to the pain from being repeatedly punched and kicked in the ribs and gut by a guy nearly twice his size with fists as hard as rocks. Luke had done his research on all the members and Evan Long aka Knuckles was the worst of them. He was wanted for questioning in connection to several drug charges, grand thefts, and many on the street believed he killed his ex-girlfriend after finding her in bed with another gang member.

Luke scoffed to himself. Maybe goading the guy and calling him a douchebag to his face wasn’t the best idea, but Luke was very quickly running out of patience, and more importantly, time. Even if Knuckles didn’t put a bullet in his head, Luke didn’t think he was going to last much longer in these conditions. He scooted across the cold cement floor where Knuckles had left him almost an hour ago after beating the pulp out of him, and rolled himself onto the disgusting mattress seeking comfort where he could find it. He missed his house. His own bed. He missed being able to stand up and use his own fucking hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually prayed but he was just desperate enough to send out an S.O.S. to the man upstairs. Just in case someone was actually listening. He couldn’t believe when a voice responded. He was sure he’d lost his mind but the voice had been so comforting and sweet. It was also adamant in its demands.And then, it stopped.

It had been silent for a while now, and he was alone with his thoughts again. He closed his eyes, wishing the voice would return. He hadn’t recognized it and doubted it was even real. More than likely he really had lost his mind from lack of food and water. It was probably a hallucination. The kind people sometimes saw before their death. It definitely wasn’t outside the realm of possibility given his predicament and a much more likely scenario than an actual person reaching out to him using some telepathic ability.

The idea was appealing though, and had Luke involuntarily breaking out in a crooked grin, then grimacing from the ache of his bruised jaw. If he was going to die, he preferred an invisible angel to the ugly face of a deadbeat gang member who was hell bent on making him suffer simply for doing his job.

Luke had been so close to getting all the evidence he needed on this gang to put most of its members away for life. Not just for dealing drugs, but for several homicides, robberies, and assaults with a deadly weapon, all across the state. He was even going to link some of their activities to crimes in New Mexico and California. It was going to be the highlight of his career, and the thing that would finally get him the promotion he’d been working so hard for. Ricky Bellario was the key to everything and now for all Luke knew, the guy was lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

It had been Luke’s day off when Ricky called him, desperate to meet. Stupid, but Luke hadn’t thought to tell anyone, thinking it was going to be a quick meeting that hopefully gave him the information he needed to make his arrests and close the case. That was three days ago. Luke shook his head. He’d been a fool and had probably gotten his informant killed or The Vultures had flipped him. Ricky was the cousin of one of the gang members. They’d been trying to recruit him but Ricky wasn’t interested. Luke took advantage of that, going so far as to give the naive eighteen year old hope that the Dallas P.D. could spare his cousin if only Ricky cooperated.

Luke sighed. Hope was the worst, but with every painful breath Luke drew, his mind went back to that voice, to those words. They could’ve been real. She could’ve been real. It was a woman, right? Luke decided the voice was definitely feminine. Though he wasn’t sure about much of anything anymore. He’d been stuck in this hellhole for days now. He was weak. His muscles were sore and tired. His body had been beaten and bruised so many times that he’d lost count.

He closed his eyes, imagining himself sitting on his friend Garrett Cooper’s dock with the rest of his friends, fishing and talking about nothing in particular. They’d probably sounded every alarm after he went missing but he’d never been to this warehouse before and nothing in his notes mentioned it. Even if they did go after The Vultures, the odds of anyone finding him in time was growing slimmer by the hour.

At least there was no doubt in his mind that his friends were looking for him. Garrett was a Texas Ranger, so he’d undoubtedly be using his statewide connections. His best friend, Caden Dobbs, would've turned his FBI office into command central by now, ordering their friend and fellow agent Blake O’Connell to run down every lead that came across his desk. And Luke’s old rookie, Tanner Rhodes, once spent an entire shift searching for a little girl’s missing puppy. Even Martin Ebbert, who’d recently made fire chief, was probably looking into any possible leads, using all of his connections in the fire department. There was comfort in knowing his friends wouldn’t stop until they found him even if all they found was his body.

Luke was starting to doze off when the heavy door to the concrete room opened. Maybe the douchebag would kill him this time. He just hoped one of his brothers wasn’t called in to identify his body. They were both in the military, and Luke hadn’t seen them in years. This was not how he wanted them to remember him.

Knuckles’ large frame filled the doorway making him look more like a menacing shadow than a man, especially with the fluorescent lights at his back. Just outside the small room he was being kept in was a much larger room where the gang did most of their business. Luke couldn’t believe they’d brought him to the place that was actually key to bringing down the entire operation. But they probably intended on killing him, so it didn’t matter what he saw or knew anymore. “Are you ready to talk?” Knuckles’ voice was low and steady with a thread of disdain.

Talk? Luke wasn’t ever going to talk. He’d never tell on his colleagues. Never reveal any information about the case. Luke licked his cracked lips and thought back to an old black and white English movie he’d watched with his Aunt Bea last Sunday. “Well, if we’re just going to have a chat, I don’t suppose you brought tea and crumpets?” Luke croaked, smirking at his own attempt at levity and an English accent.

That earned him a steel boot to the side and Luke groaned in pain as his opposite shoulder slammed into the cement wall from the force of the kick. “Who else knows about our operation?” Knuckles demanded.

Luke wheezed and coughed as his lungs struggled to take in air. A few more kicks like that and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

“Last chance,” Knuckles warned. His attempt to sound menacing would’ve been much more effective if Luke gave a shit. The truth was, Luke was tired, hungry, cold, and just over it. He forced out another strained groan. Maybe it was all finally going to come to an end. Not the one he’d been hoping for but he was fresh out of options at the moment. No one was coming for him and death was preferable to this continued existence, however much longer it lasted.

A commotion outside the doorway had Knuckles turning to see what it was about. Luke glanced up too, and spotted a man talking to Bones, the leader of the gang. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but Luke had never seen that man before. He had shaggy blond hair and brown eyes. He was tall, and well built, like he enjoyed spending time at the gym. He wore a plain t-shirt and khaki shorts with high top sneakers. It wasn’t a drug dealer's usual attire but when Bones handed him an unmarked package, Luke had no doubt that was exactly who he was.

Knuckles stepped out of the room, letting the heavy door slam behind him.Alone again, Luke breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. Whoever that man was, he’d just bought Luke more time. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe the voice would come back. Or maybe help would arrive. The hum of voices and activity outside his makeshift prison that was nothing more than a storage closet had Luke drifting into a fitful sleep. What felt like just minutes later, the door swung open again and Knuckles loomed over him.

“Time’s up,” he grinned, making Luke’s skin crawl. What did this guy have to be so happy about? “I don’t usually do things this way,” Knuckles said. “But the boss wants you taken care of sooner rather than later.” Knuckles’ black hair was matted to his head and his shit colored eyes glared at Luke with no spark in them.

Luke swallowed hard. He didn’t like the sound of being taken care of but he’d known all along where all this would eventually lead. Knuckles’ hand slipped into his waistband and pulled out a small caliber gun. Luke blinked as Knuckles pointed it in his face and cocked it, the sound filling Luke’s ears with impending death.

***

Fuck, this is it.

Orly sat in the passenger seat of Russell’s SUV in bumper to bumper traffic on the I-405 freeway when Luke’s thought rumbled through her mind. Russell had finally stopped lecturing her on the importance of showing a united front to his colleagues, something he’d been going on and on about since they left the luncheon over an hour ago, all because she’d left the table for what she knew was less than five minutes. It honestly made her want to gag but like a good fiancée, she sat there and nodded the entire time. With this traffic though, it was going to be at least another half hour before they got home.

She turned her head as if to glance out the passenger window and closed her eyes for a brief moment to focus on what Luke was seeing. There was a man standing over him. She couldn’t quite make out his face but Luke’s vision was focused on the barrel of a gun. She internalized her gasp but the moment she opened her eyes, Russell was pointedly staring at her. Not giving in to his antics, she ignored him for the moment, acting as if she didn’t notice his attention on her. Luke was her only concern right now. Had the Dallas Police Department tip line not believed her? Would they not arrive in time?

---