Page 124 of Chokehold
Their voices drift through the thin walls. Another officer shuts the front door, his eyes finding mine as he walks past. He offers me a small, apologetic smile before he, too, disappears into the living room.
I stay rooted to the spot with one foot on the first step. Cole’s name is mentioned more than once before I finally hurry upstairs. Why are they talking and not out there looking for him?
As soon as I enter my room, I make a beeline for my laptop on the desk. The dark night outside seeps through the glass, and when I lift my gaze, I’m met by my own haunted reflection in the window. I look like shit: cheeks smeared with blood, an eye that’s almost swollen shut, and a busted lip. There’s more dried blood on my hands and underneath my nails. My knuckles are split, too. They sting like a motherfucker when I flex my fingers, but the pain is soothing. At least it gives me something else to focus on instead of the pit in my stomach.
I type in Cole’s dad’s name and scroll through the search results. There’s not much, but maybe I’ll find something that’ll give me a clue if I keep hunting.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I slide it out to check the caller ID. Tiago. After silencing the call, I toss the phone onto the desk. Guilt gnaws at my gut, but my head is all over the place. It continues ringing. I wait it out, watching Tiago smile on my phone screen before it goes dark. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I lean forward to click on another article?—
The door opens behind me, and I straighten up. Dad enters the room, looking significantly more tired than he did earlier. He has loosened his tie and runs a hand through his dark hair.
“Have they found them?” I ask as he slides his hands into his pockets. He shakes his head once. “No,” is his response. “They haven’t.”
“Well?” I ask, my voice wobbling like my chin. “What did they say? Are they out there looking for them? Have they got any clues of where he took them?”
“I don’t know, son.”
We stare at each other.
I feel helpless. Dad always has the answers. Always knows the right thing to say or how to handle difficult situations. He never looks this…defeated.
Swallowing hard, I dip my chin to my chest. I should jump in my car and drive around town. They can’t have gone far, right? Maybe I’ll spot them somewhere.
Dad walks deeper into the room and, without asking questions, pulls me into his arms again. I’m stiff at first. Dad doesn’t do emotions. He shouts and stomps around the house like a dictarian.
“The police will find them,” he says.
“What if they don’t? What if he hurts them?”
“He won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Instead of replying, he steps back and puts his hands on my shoulders. “We have to trust the police. They have their best men on the case.”
“Trust the police?” My voice is shrill. “Cole’s dad is a cop. He has a restraining order against him, yet they let him keep his fucking badge. They’re all corrupt.”
He looks at me peculiarly, then sighs and drops his hands. “Try to get some rest, son.”
“Try to get some… Try to get some rest? Your wife is missing. Don’t you fucking care?”
“Don’t swear at me,” he replies. “Of course, I care, but there’s nothing else we can do tonight.”
“So we do what? Nothing?”
“We’ll know more by the morning.” He crosses the room to the door, and I call out, “They could be dead tomorrow.”
Dad stops in his tracks, his shoulders stiff. “They won’t be.”
He leaves the room without another word, and I slump back against the desk. My anger rears at his blasé attitude. Why isn’t he as frantic as me? His wife is missing—kidnapped by her ex-husband.
“Fuck,” I groan and scrub my hands over my face. My phone vibrates on the desk, sliding sideways with each‘brrrrr.’
I pick it up and unlock the screen before it can fall to the floor. It’s Tiago again.
“Don’t ignore me when I call you,” he says the moment I press the phone to my ear.
“Look, tonight is not a good time?—”
