Page 77 of Broken Doll

Jackson parks the car. “I won’t let him win. I know how much Hope means to you and Iwillprotect her the same way you protected me." He gets out of the car, and I watch him walking toward the museum.

I follow him. “So what, we wait here, go inside?” Looking around the street to see if I can see anyone, I wait for Jackson to answer my question.

“Well, out here seems dead so let’s see what’s in there.”

“Like you haven’t been here before.”

"I haven't if you must know." Jackson opens the door for me, and I give him a look. "I swear I haven't and looking around I don't think I will either."

Looking around, I think that this doesn't really seem like a place either one of us would ever step foot in and some of the things on display are things we know very well how that shit feels.

“So, what are we looking for?” Jackson asks as we walk around.

“I suppose we’ll know as soon as we see it.” I peer at the statues with disgust. Is this really what people like looking at?

"Found it." I turn around to see where Jackson is, and I walk over to the wall of what these people think is art.

I look at the three images, printed on A4 paper and stuck in a row. Anger bubbles up from deep inside me, and my body shakes with rage. I thought I wanted to kill him before, but now I want to make sure that I get a few more bullets in him now before he's completely dead. Hope can only be sixteen in these pictures. I'm filled with rage as I see how he has Hope placed on the bed. No wonder she prefers to sleep on the floor after what he put her through. I'm going to enjoy killing that bastard.

“Leo, there’s a note.” I rip the pictures from the wall and walk over to Jackson to read the note.

She was the purest of them all, they all wanted her, but I will always be the one that got her first.

I clench my jaw as I rip the note into tiny pieces. “He’s playing games with us, getting in our heads,” I growl.

“And he’s doing a fucking good job.” We walk around to make sure that there’s nothing else here, no more pictures of Hope, or letters for us to read. I storm over to the guy behind the front desk. “Who put these pictures up?” I ask, slamming the pictures on the desk.

He shrugs. “I-I don’t know, never seen them before, but—”

“Think fucking twice before you say your next words because I may rearrange your fucking face.” I cut him off. Just seeing him looking at the pictures makes me want to punch him.

“When were they put up?”

He's clearly intimidated by me as he twiddles his fingers. "W-well I did a walk around thirty minutes ago, and they weren't anywhere then."

“They were here waiting for us to come. That bastard is playing a fucked up game,” I shout in anger. I need to punch something or someone right now.

“Come on.” Jackson pulls me around from the desk and out of the museum. When he lets me go, I punch the lamp post. Yes, that fucking hurt, but I punch it again. “You’re no good if you break your hand.”

“How is the fucker in the same state and we still can’t find him?” I turn around and see a man standing a few steps away from us and I nod towards him so that Jackson will look at him.

“Can we help you?”

“Are you Leo Masters?”

"Yes," I reply. He silently holds an envelope toward me. I take it and rip it open before reading aloud, "You have four days to find me, and then I'll be gone and so will Hope." I pass the paper to Jackson so that he can look at it as we walk back to the car.

“Might want to give Hope some self-defense lessons and looks like she’s going to be in your office a lot more this week too.”

“She’s not leaving my sight and seriously? Self-defense lessons? Have you just met Hope?” I climb into the car. It’s not a bad idea, giving her tips on how to hit back might be a good thing.

“I’ll teach her,” Jackson says as he starts the car. “Just little things; where to punch them, or how to get out of a hold.”

I rub my face; frustration and exhaustion are fighting for my attention. “Sure, I’ll let her know and see what she says.”

Looking at the note again, I know I have to find him before he takes Hope. Not for one second do I think he won't try to take her. He's been looking for her for a year, and now he knows where she is.

“We’ll win this time.”

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