Page 58 of Tex's Angel

I look out of the front windshield, I need to memorize where he’s taking me, in case I get the chance to escape or to call for help. It’s no good if I somehow get access to a phone and can’t tell anyone where I am.

We’ve not been driving long when I see the sign saying we’re leaving Las Salinas, and within moments we pull onto the interstate going northbound. We’re on route five going up the West Coast. I squint my eyes and as minutes continue to tick on, we pass signs for Del Mar, Solana Beach, and appear to be heading towards Carlsbad.

When he turns off on a dirt road and late afternoon turns into evening, I start to feel alone and vulnerable.

I start to worry that I’ll never see Tex, my best friend, and even my smugly indifferent parents or my selfish sister. Then I start to worry about Tex endlessly tormenting himself with guilt about not being able to save me, and that really tears at my heart. He’s just the kind of man to do that to himself. He told me that he feels guilty about not getting his wife treatment until it was too late, despite the fact that she had no symptoms, and no one could have known she was sick. I don’t think I was in Levi’s life long enough to him to really miss me and that turns out to be a strange kind of blessing in and of itself.

I don’t know why I’ve already kind of given up of making it out of here alive. Maybe it’s some kind of mind trick, where if I accept the possibility of the worst happening, anything short of that will be a pleasant surprise. On a long enough timeline there could be a chance to escape. I just need to keep than firmly in mind, so I’ll recognize an opportunity when it presents itself.

It’s fully night when the van finally stops at a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere, I’m mentally prepared for whatever happens. When the door of the van slides open, he says, “Don’t bother screaming because I don’t give a fuck and there isn’t a living soul for miles in any direction. Also, don’t fight me because I’m in no mood. You understand?”

“I understand. I won’t give you any trouble because I’m more interested in talking this out.”

“Fuck talking, it’s you talking that caused all my problems.”

He pulls out a knife and cuts the zip ties. Instead of closing up the knife and putting it away, he shoves me against the back of the van and puts the edge of the blade against my neck.

I genuinely begin to panic, thinking I had it all wrong and he’s decided on a whim to kill me without even telling me why he’s angry with me. Instead, he lowers his voice and tells me menacingly, “I’ve had this fantasy about bringing you out here and letting you run, so I could hunt you down and kill you.”

Running the knife gently over my skin, his whole demeanor has drifted into an almost trance-like state as he watches the blade slide against my skin. He adds, “Maybe I’d use a rifle. Or my bow. Or maybe I’d hunt you down on foot and use this very knife to slit your throat.”

“I don’t understand why you hate me so much,” I gasp.

My words snap him out of his trance and his eyes flash with pure rage. “If you knew how much it infuriates me that you don’t remember me, how much it makes me want to hurt you, you’d never say those words to me again.”

And just like that, he pulls the knife away and snaps it shut. Before I can get my head around what just happened, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and jerks me forward. I stumble out of the van one step ahead of him, but his hand never leaves the back of my neck. In fact it gets tighter until I begin to get lightheaded and worry that he’s cutting off the flow of oxygen to my brain.

He perp walks me up the front steps of the house, unlocks the door with his free hand and shoves me inside. The minute my eyes adjust to the lights he just flipped on, I realize exactly who this man is. His face is in the multitude of pictures decorating the walls of the small living room, staring out from every frame alongside a dead-eyed woman I once knew. It’s the moment I know all the way down to my bones that I’m not making it out of here alive.

Chapter 25

Tex

Icome skidding into the parking lot on my bike at top speed only to realize I’m too late. My kickstand is barely down before I jump off and race the last couple of feet to her vehicle. The passenger side window is smashed, and it looks like someone might have popped the lock on her door manually, then opened her door and pulled her from the car.

I look around and thankfully find no blood, but her cell phone is on the floor. I curse under my breath because her not having her phone on her is gonna make tracking her impossible. Finding her is gonna take good old fashioned detective work. Thank God I’ve been a cop for most of my life.

Rigs pulls in within seconds and is at my side immediately. “What’s going on?”

“Clara’s gone. Abducted.”

He steps forward.

I push him back. “Don’t touch anything. I’m calling this in so the crime lab can go over every square inch with a fine-tooth comb.”

“Right. That’s a smart move. While you’re calling the police, I’m going to call Siege and bring him up to speed.”

“Fine. Tell him to stay away and keep the brothers from swarming the place. If they show up it’ll just get law enforcementthinking they had something to do with her abduction. I want them to run a clean case, so the forensic evidence comes back faster.”

“I’ll tell him. Once we sic the police on this crime scene, Siege will want us back at the clubhouse so we can get started on our own investigation.”

I nod because the dispatcher just picked up my call. “I want to report an abduction. A teacher by the name of Clara Collins was abducted at Las Salinas High School in the last fifteen to twenty minutes.”

The officer on the other end asks, “Wyatt Jones, is that you?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“Officer Blake. I thought I recognized your voice. I just sent word for everyone to scramble. You’re on a recorded line. Tell me what you know.”

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