Page 42 of Desperation

I finished my online schoolwork for the day and warmed some leftovers for dinner. Jameson had baby food all over himself and had managed to splatter some on my face, so we both got another bath. I settled into the couch with my warm fuzzy socks and plush blanket, preparing to watch the news when all the lights went out.

Chapter Thirty-One

Devon

I dragged myself out of bed midafternoon and poured a cup of coffee. One wouldn’t cut it today, so I gulped it down and made a second. My shift didn’t start for several hours, but I needed to find Drake and talk to him. We had to come to an agreement somehow. I knew he wanted Hannah back. He was lying low, waiting for this all to blow over so he could try to convince her to come home. But these last few days had renewed my resolve to keep him away from her. My goal was always to keep her safe, but now the stakes were higher. We would talk man to man, and if fists had to be involved, so be it. He was a big guy and ruthless to boot, but I’d been a SEAL. I'd trained with the biggest and baddest the U.S. military had to offer, and there was no way I’d let him get the upper hand.

He also had information I needed. I had to find a way to get him to talk about the Tidewater Rogues. If he was hanging out at their clubhouse, he most likely had a good rapport with its members. Maybe I’d ask him to go for a ride and feign interest in joining an MC. The man who attacked me might not have gotten a good look at my face when he bashed it in with the butt of his rifle, but I’d cataloged every detail I could as I watched him slink away: his well-worn cut, inky black hair, almost long enough to graze his shoulders, the slight limp and partially missing pinkie on his left side.

Whatever I did, I needed to keep him calm and appeal to his narcissistic side, make him think I wanted to reconcile, to call a truce. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only solution I could see.

I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. He would be home from work soon, so I went to his house and parked along the street. Forty-five minutes later, I was ready to give up when a dark blue Honda pulled into the driveway and a middle-aged woman got out. She made her way to the door and started knocking. I’d never seen her before, but she was obviously familiar with the house. Getting out of my truck, I approached her hesitantly, stopping several yards away.

“Are you looking for someone?”

Startled, she turned to me sharply. “Is she here? Did she come back?”

“Who?”

“Hannah,” she shrieked, then her eyes darted past me. “You’re the one she left with.” How the hell did she know who I was? “Mrs. Pierce saw her get into a vehicle just like yours,” she began, pointing at the truck behind me, “on the day she took off.” I had no idea who Mrs. Pierce was, but I kept quiet hoping to gather more information from her. “She called to let me know the truck was back. Now, I demand you tell me where she is.” Her face turned hard and resolute, an unexpected fierceness pouring from her tiny body.

“She’s somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know.”

“Why did she leave?” The woman was on the verge of tears. She obviously knew Hannah, but Hannah hadn’t mentioned her.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Sandra,” she replied as though that was explanation enough.

“I’m sorry. She hasn’t mentioned you.” Hurt flashed in her eyes, and I took a step toward her.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, and I froze. “What did you do with her?”

“I removed her from a dangerous situation.” I wouldn’t offer more than that, not until I knew who this person was to Hannah. She studied me a moment, eyes wide and untrusting.

“He hurt her, didn’t he?”

Stunned, I hesitated, not knowing what to say. Had she suspected abuse? Did she simply ignore the signs and leave Hannah to fend for herself?

“I had a feeling,” she went on, her voice shaking. “When they came home that night, he seemed upset. And she looked … scared. I asked if she wanted to talk or wanted me to stay, and she said no. But there was something in his eyes, a look I didn’t like. I shouldn’t have left her alone with him.”

This must be the babysitter who was with Jameson the night Hannah turned down Drake’s proposal.

“They tried to tell me she was mentally unstable, that she needed help. Hank’s been going out of his mind with worry. But Mrs. Pierce,” she started, then gulped down a big deep breath, “said Hannah’s face looked bruised when she saw her a couple days later, the day she left.”

“How do you know Hank?”

“We’re dating.” I winced, but she didn’t notice. This poor sweet woman, who seemed distraught over Hannah, was Hank’s girlfriend. She had no idea the monster she’d let into her life. “He and Drake are going on a hunting trip, and when I got that call from the neighbor, I thought maybe Hannah was coming back for her things while he was gone.” I went still, all the blood draining from my face, an ominous sense of dread coming over me. “I didn’t know. They haven’t kept me in the loop, and I’ve been worried sick—”

“Where?” I demanded, cutting her off.

“Where what?” she asked in confusion.

“Where were they going hunting?”

“Somewhere up in the mountains. Near Shenandoah I believe.” My stomach heaved, and I thought I would be sick. They were going after Hannah. They knew where she was. Dear God, I’d never get to her in time and had no way of warning her.

“When did they leave?”

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