Page 49 of To Have and to Hold

Noelle wouldn’t argue. Logic had always been her fallback when things got heated or tense.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “But you’d better get here soon and explain why you’ve put the fear of a kidnapping or home invasion in me.”

“Thank you,” I said, physically deflating with short-lived relief. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Whatever it is, Spence, Ilove you.” Then she added, “Be safe.”

“I’ll see you soon,” I said, and as soon as she hung up, I pressed the corner of the phone to my forehead and closed my eyes against the full volume of this place—laughs, steps, screams, beeps, bangs.

“Spence,” Becca burst out, her hands flat on the table. Her eyes had a sheen of liquid terror. “What. The. Fuck? Talk to me!”

I found the part of my brain I needed for this. I said, matter-of-factly, “The kidnapper contacted me. Emme’s still alive”—Becca fell back into her booth with her hands covering her mouth—“She’s being held in some sort of basement, in a house. That takes out all apartment complexes.”

“She’s…she’s…oh my God, Spence. We have to call the police. Knox.”

Any communication with the kidnapper could lead to flaws—openings, mistakes, unintended information. The more I gleaned from this person, the better chance Emme had.

Even if it meant pretending I wasn’t roaring inside for her.

“Spence?”

This guy wanted something more than Emme’s death, otherwise he wouldn’t be dangling her with such confidence, such pointedness. Everything he did was with intelligence and it would be the greatest mistake to fall into the beliefthat he was nothing but a deranged man in his mid-forties who still lived with his mother and had only-child issues. No, this was far worse.

The kidnapper saw me with Noelle, knew what she looked like, watched her. She was safe for now, unharmed and in a protected area, but he was aware of her, which meant she was a target. Maybe his next.

He also saw me with Becca.

“Spence!”

I spun through my mental log, searching for what could be missing. These past days and nights were spent sacrificing the present for the glimpses of the past. I analyzed every moment I could remember, researched the ones I couldn’t, burned bridges and trudged onwards, all for the sake of maintaining stamina. Emme was—had to be—alive. Much like the brain forgot past physical pain, so could it parse through the memories and cling to the better ones. The flaws in our relationship were cauterized by the joy of remembering her. She stepped out of my life years ago, and that created a slow tear like the thick seams of a sweatshirt gradually becoming undone. But now this man was fucking with my memories, ripping into them with such speed that it was a flick of her lips, a flash of her eyes, before the recall faded into the murky depths of imagination. I never witnessed moments of Emme being fearful. The only time I’d ever seen her faceblanchewith a heart stop was when I stepped out from behind a door and went BOO in a goblin Halloween mask. Even then, she tackled me with an unexpected, sauce-covered spatula she had as an improvised weapon. Yet this man could take thatmoment and paint true fear over her features with the white-washed strokes of a brush, andher summer smile morphed into bloody, naked agony.

“Spencer Edward Rolfe!”

Becca’s scream caught my attention, and that of fifteen other patrons nearby.

“Listen to me!” She’d lowered her voice to a decibel below shouting. “You just made contact with the kidnapper. Emme’s alive.”

My mind was still a few seconds removed, but I said, “Both true.”

“Knox and the police are looking into her current personal life, we’re looking into witnesses and people she doesn’t know who may be taking a liking to her. But your relationship to her is special. You were her forever, her soul mate, and I can only assume she meant the same to you, despite what happened. That she’s maybe still important to you in some way.” Becca threw her hands up. “Arguably the only important person you’ve ever allowed to get close to you. And this guy has called you on your personal cell phone.”

I said through the spaces in my teeth, “Yes.”

Becca leaned in, her elbows spearing the countertop. “Everyone’s so busy searching Emme’s past and present. But Spence, what about you? Who wants to fuck up your life?”

I stared at her.

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