Page 33 of Tell Me No
“Tell me she’s still close, Jason. Please,” Eli says, leaning forward in his seat.
Her location finally populates and I’m shocked by how quickly it came through. Wherever she is, they’re moving fast. Faster than any car can carry you. And by the looks of it, they’re moving east. I know Figueroa has safe houses in New York and Florida, but the tracker seems to be moving in a horizontal line.
“It’s a helicopter. Thats the only thing that could book it that quickly,” Helo says, breaking the silence in the room.
“My thoughts exactly. Do you know anybody in the FAA? We could really use a flight plan right now,” I ask.
“Already on it, I’ll call you right back,” he hangs up without another word. The silence in the room is fucking excruciating. Everyone is looking to me for the answers I just don’t have.
One minute drags into the next as we all wait for the phone to ring again. When it finally does, Kelsea jumps slightly at the shrill sound. I swipe the screen, hopeful for once in my life.
“Nothing under his name. But there was an emergency flight plan filed by a Miguel Sanchez this morning. I dug a little further and found out that Sanchez and Figueroa are cousins.” Helo relays all the information he discovered in the last few minutes.
“Where are they going, Beckett?” I snap, my patience hanging by a thread. It’s so rare that we use each other’s real names. The sound almost tastes foreign on my tongue.
“Thats the thing, Break. The destination is here. It’s Charleston,” he replies. It takes me a few minutes to understand what he’s telling me. Why would they be going to Charleston? It would take no time at all to get out of the country. From there, they could disappear and it would take every resource and favor I have to track them after that.
“What the hell is in Charleston?” Everett asks the question we’re all thinking.
“It’s not Charleston. He’s going to Grovewood,” Iris interjects, looking at me with fear painted across his features.
“But why?” I ask.
“We’ve seen his patterns, Breaker. You’ve seen the way he never gets over anything, he gets even. He’s going to the warehouse. It’s the only thing that makes sense. He’s going to take everything from you in the place where we took his son from him.” The words he’s saying swim around me as blood rushes to my head. I know he’s right, but I don’t want to believe it. I can’t imagine my life without Aurora on this planet.
Determination and resolve flood my system. I will not allow her to be taken from me, from all of us. Figueroa’s world will burn before I let him harm another hair on Aurora’s head.
“Helo, get us home, now,” I tell him, the finality in my voice ringing throughout the room.
twenty
“I love you,Aurora. You’re mine forever, now. Nothing will ever separate us as long as we both shall live,” Jason says as he holds my hands in front of him. He’s dressed in an exquisite black tux, his grey-green eyes shining with affection for me.
I open my mouth to reply to him, but no sound comes out. My brows furrow, anger at my forced silence burning in my throat. I want to reach out to him, to tell him I feel the same utter devotion he does, but I can’t move. I can’t speak. My hand comes up to grip my throat, clawing at my skin as a silent scream forces its way past my lips.
No matter how hard I fight, the vision of Jason in front of me is slowly slipping away. He reaches for me, but his arms are just beyond my fingertips. It’s as if I’m wading through thick sludge to reach him. My limbs feel like sandbags, heavy and unmoving despite my efforts. Suddenly, a voice I don’t recognize brushes against the shell of my ear.
“Don't worry, we’ll make sure your husband finds you… eventually,”
The familiar words skate across my skin again and bile rises in my throat. I turn my head to locate the source of the threat, but my body is slowly turning to stone where I stand. The realization that this is the end for me crashes over me in waves.
A scream rips from my throat as I jolt awake in an unfamiliar room. Immediately, I notice my hands are tied to the arms of an uncomfortable, cold metal chair. My mouth is dry as the Sahara and I try to swallow, my throat burning like I’ve poured acid down it. What the fuck did they dose me with?
“Ah, good morning, hermosa. I was beginning to think I gave you too much,” a thick Spanish accent seems to come straight from the shadows. My eyes dart around the empty room, but I see nothing. We’re in a large warehouse, the air tinged with the unmistakable metallic scent of blood. The concrete floor beneath my feet is stained a rusty brown color, darkening around the drain at the center of the room.
“Where-where are we?” I grate out, the words barely audible.
“You don’t know this place? Oh, but your husband does,” he says, walking behind my back and coming to a stop in front of me. “You see this?” He asks, pointing to the stained floor. “This is what is left of my son after your husband murdered him.” Venom laces his tone, but his face remains calm.
“Well, I don’t know what he did to deserve that. But I’m sure the world is a better place for it.” Internally, I slap myself for my inability to control my mouth. This man had no problem drugging or kidnapping me. Why would I bait him?
“I should have known you’d be a mouthy little bitch.” His cold, black eyes bore into mine for several long moments before he lets out a dry laugh, slapping me hard enough that I feel my lip split. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth and I swallow it down, refusing to show any weakness to this man.
“He will kill you. You might hurt me now, but he will find us and he will kill you,” I spit back at him, meeting his fiery gaze with my own.
“I don’t want to hurt you, hermosa. That would be far too kind. I want you to suffer as my son suffered. I want your husband to watch you bleed to your death on this floor, want to watch his will to live slowly slip away as the life drains from your eyes. He will suffer as I have suffered,” he tells me, pain and anger clear even though his features remain neutral.
“Boss, they’re moving,” a man comes through the side door of the warehouse, and the older man in front of me, apparently the boss, nods his direction.
