Page 6 of Reaper Razed

“My fucking heart has been in my throat since we knew she was missing. I can’t stop shaking.” JJ looks paler than normal as he scrubs his hand down his face.

“I’ve booked a flight. I’m coming,” I inform Bernie.

“It’s okay, Brother, she’s okay.”

“She’s my daughter, Bernie. I’m not being away from her for a moment longer. I thought I could do this, but I can't.” I scrub a hand down my face and exhale sharply. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t wake up every day knowing she’s on the other side of the world. Steven and JJ are gonna run the Adventure Centre. I’m moving back to the States.”

“She’s all of our daughter, Cade!” he spits. “You’re overreacting. She’s got a dislocated shoulder and a couple of broken fingers. She’s fine.”

“You know what I mean! And no. I’m not being this far away. We've sorted it this end. I'm wrapping up. I'll be there within the week. I’ll let you know when my flight’s landing.”

“Cade, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable? Bernie… I can’t be here without her.”

Letting out a deep breath, he says, “I understand, Brother, I do. Let me know when you’re arriving, and I will come to get you. You can stay with us as long as you need, okay.”

“Thanks, Bernie.”

“I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

“Well, that went better than expected.” Steven smiles.

“You sure you guys can run this place?”

“Please! This place runs itself, and you know it.” JJ laughs.

“I think I need a minute,” is all I can say as these emotions are threatening to spill over, and I refuse to cry in front of my brothers, not because I think it will make me less of a man, but more because if I start, I’m not sure I will stop till she’s in my arms.

Joseph

I wake up, and my head is ringing. I’ve had the weirdest dream. I’m blaming the whiskey or scotch or both. My arm’s above my head at a weird angle, so it has gone to sleep. I try to move it, but there’s a clunk. As I try to sit, I can’t. Looking up at my arm, it’s handcuffed to my bed. Rapidly blinking and trying to focus, I look around the room for Celeste, but I don’t recognise the room. This isn’t my room. This isn’t my bed.

My mind’s foggy, and my eyes are stinging and blurry, and looking down at myself, I’m still in my suit. Taking a few deep breaths, I start trying to piece bits together. I remember Celeste wanting to have sex in the bathroom at the event. I remember… damn it, did she throw me off a balcony? My mind is fuzzy. I vaguely remember being tossed off a balcony and maybe a van. Why can’t I remember?

I yank at the cuffs and shout out, “Celeste?” Nothing. “Celeste, you can undo me now.” Still nothing, and now I’m starting to panic, remembering men in black outfits and shouting. Rubbing at my eyes, they fly to the door as it unlocks.

“Marcus?” I gasp out. “Where's Celeste?” He smiles as he walks in, locking the door behind him.

“Celeste is a little… busy at the moment. She’ll be along as soon as she’s available.” He looks at me sternly. “I think we need to have a little chat, Judge. We need to figure out who’s after you and what they want and arrange you some security. Till then, unfortunately, you’ll have to stay here.”

“I don’t remember anything. Why don’t I remember anything?”

“That’ll be the… drugs we gave you. They'll wear off shortly, and things will become a little clearer. I’ll be back later. There are some clothes in the bathroom, so shower and change. Someone will be along shortly with food for you. We’ll keep you here till we can sort out your security, and once you’ve talked to Black Widow, we will release you.”

He uncuffs my wrist. I immediately grab it and rub at it. “Black Widow?” Why does that name sound familiar? Ah that’s what Celeste called herself!

“Shower! Don’t leave this room, don’t be stupid, Judge. We’re the only things keeping you safe at the minute.”

He leaves, locking the door behind him. I head into the bathroom. There are joggers and a t-shirt on the counter. How crass. I wouldn’t be caught dead in these, but it doesn’t look like I have much choice.

After showering and heading back to the room, there is a jug of water and a sandwich on the bedside table. I look out the window, and all I can see are trees and the windows screwed shut. Who are these people, and are they good or bad? I have no idea. I hope they haven’t hurt Celeste.

I’ve been in the room all day. They've bought me three meals and drinks, but no one’s spoken to me. The same young lad has delivered my food but has not said a word. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with no distinguishing tattoos, marks or logos that I can see.

It must have been late. It’s already dark when the door swings open, and Marcus and Celeste walk in. They are both wearing jeans and long-sleeve T-shirts. Celeste has her hands tucked into her pockets as Marcus opens the door for her.

“Celeste?” I gasp. She looks different, tired, maybe? “What’s happening?”

---