Darkness Before Dawn Part 6

"Impressive."

Mark steps out of his room wearing sweats and a T-s.h.i.+rt. "What's up, Cole? You met Connor. Connor, Cole is the missing kid."

"That's right. The kid Benny took?" Connor asks, obviously familiar with the story. The way he says their names surprises me, it sounds like he knows them, but I'm not about to ask him any personal questions. Mark was there that night, I know that much, but I never considered that he could have been friendly with the other men that took us.

Connor sighs and runs his hand over his buzz cut hair. "Well, I met Blake yesterday," he says over a mouthful of chips.

That stops me dead in my tracks. "What?" I ask, feeling my heart rate quicken. "MY Blake? What the f.u.c.k do you mean you met her yesterday?" My stomach drops when I run through everything I was doing yesterday when this dude was meeting my lost girlfriend.

"And that's why I haven't handed you your beer yet," Mark mutters under his breath.

I glare at Mark before looking back to Connor. "What the f.u.c.k do you mean you met Blake?" I ask through gritted teeth.

Connor puts down his beer and rubs his forehead. "I met her-" he says quietly before looking at Mark for rea.s.surance. Mark nods and shrugs his shoulders.

I take a deep breath and grab on to the back of the couch before I take the f.u.c.ker down on Mark's gla.s.s coffee table. "Can you just cut to the chase?"

"Well, I went to my girlfriend's house yesterday to pick her up, and Dean brought Blake into the kitchen to eat while I was in there. She freaked out when she saw me...I guess I kind of did too. I mean-I knew she would look like her mom, but d.a.m.n. Not that I ever saw her mom, obviously, but pictures. I talked to Dean a little but she just sat there playing with her food before they went back to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Dean said he's gonna help me get her out. She's fine, though. She looks...I mean...she looks good, considering." His shoulders slump and he sits down.

"Considering what? That she's been f.u.c.king kidnapped?" I shout desperately.

He crinkles his eyebrows and I see the uncertainty in his blue eyes before he clears his throat. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm getting her out of there."

"Connor," Mark starts in a warning tone before I interrupt him.

"Mark, shut up and let the kid talk!" I say, exasperated.

"Dean and I talked about it. They're having a huge party in a couple of days and won't notice if she slips out. It'll be quick." Connor shrugs before Mark's laughter cuts his words short.

"It'll be quick?" Mark asks in disbelief. "You know how Benny and Alex work. h.e.l.l, you know how Jamie works. You've been around their s.h.i.+t long enough to know nothing is ever that simple."

Connor gets up from the couch and crosses over to stand in front of Mark. "What the f.u.c.k do you think is gonna happen when Uncle Liam finds out about this s.h.i.+t? You think he's gonna call Jamie and be all fine and dandy about it?"

"Jamie doesn't even know about it!" Mark shouts, making Connor's brows rise to his hairline as I sit there watching on.

"Ha! You think Jamie doesn't know? d.a.m.n, Uncle Mark, you're a dumb sonofab.i.t.c.h sometimes. No disrespect," Connor replies, raising his hands in defense.

Mark scowls at him. "He would've called Pops by now if he knew!"

Connor sucks his teeth. "You think Dad and Grandpa always give you the inside scoop or something? You're a lawyer, dude!"

"First of all, WHO THE f.u.c.k IS DEAN? And can someone get a pen and paper and start drawing out the family trees and everyone's connection to everyone else?" I demand. And I mean it, this s.h.i.+t gets exhausting and keeping up is impossible. I should've brought Aubry so he could give me the cliff notes on these people and their complicated issues.

Connor laughs and walks over to me, sitting on the couch in front of me, as Mark follows him and takes a seat on the other side of the couch I'm on.

"Dean's a good guy, don't worry about him, he's family. Anyway, Alex and Benny are the guys that took Blake. They work for Jamie. Blake's parents and them go way back. Like waaaay back. They were all best friends, grew up together, ran with the same crowds. They were all friends until Benny started f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t up," Connor explains before taking a swig of beer.

Talk about information overload. I think my brain just exploded. I sit here dumbly staring at Connor for a bit with my mouth hanging open, still processing everything and trying to figure out why, but still come up blank. I just keep mulling over the Dean is family part.

"What do you mean Dean's family? Whose family is he?" I ask.

Connor exhales. "Look, like I said, our families used to be close. Even after that whole thing went down, some of us stayed close. You have nothing to worry about with Dean. Benny's the scariest motherf.u.c.ker in the equation."

I shake my head. "You guys use the term family really f.u.c.king loosely. So why did they take me and Blake? Why the h.e.l.l did they take you?" I ask Mark, turning my body to face him.

Mark shrugs. "Wrong place, wrong time. Benny started complicating things when your dad was working in the city and Jamie O'Brien and Brian Benson couldn't come to an agreement over some stuff. There was a lot of money involved, Benny took it a step further and kidnapped you and Blake. I still don't know why the f.u.c.k they took me, to be entirely honest with you. I've learned to let it go though. I got sick of trying to figure it all out, and I was fine with knowing that you and Blake were safe. At least I did something right."

I nod in agreement and appreciation because he's right, if it wasn't for him, who knows where we'd be right now. I just can't believe all of these people were friends before all of this and lost their ties because of one guy.

"Why did that Benny guy start so much s.h.i.+t? What's his deal?" I ask curiously.

"He's a psycho, that's his deal," Connor says, as Mark nods his head in agreement.

"He's never been right in the head, but I think greed is the root of his problem," Mark adds.

"We're all greedy," Connor mutters below his breath.

"Yeah, and we're all f.u.c.ked up," Mark replies with a shrug before taking another swig of beer.

I've been staring at the door, waiting for Dean to come in any minute, but the minute never seems to come. I've already been to the bathroom ten times since I woke up, and each time I feel like somebody is drilling my lower back-that's how much it hurts. I run my hands over my neck for what seems like the millionth time since I've been here. I was wearing the necklace Cole gave me the day they took me, and I miss having it around my neck. Not that I need it to remember him, but I hate that they took it from me. When will they stop taking? I don't even want the answer to that question.

My ears perk up when I hear the door unlock quietly, followed by the quickening heart when I see Dean appear in the threshold wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black hooded sweater that's fitted to his body. His hair is damp and messy, not his usual style. We haven't spoken about the moment we shared the other day. In fact, we haven't spoken much at all. He's been here every day since, but our conversations are always short and to the point. He asks how I'm feeling, gives me my food, and leaves. Sometimes I could swear he's standing right outside the door and the thought that he'd rather leave me alone here bothers me endlessly. It was nothing, dammit!

My eyes travel down his body and I notice the brown paper bag in his hand as he strides over to me and sits down beside me.

"Hungry?" he asks casually.

I nod and he hands me the bag. When I open it I find a sandwich, chips and a can of pop.

"Are you going to talk to me or run away like a little girl?" I ask when I finish chewing my first bite. His chuckle makes my eyes roam over his lips before I look into his eyes.

"I haven't been running away like a little girl, chick. I just...it's not right for me to have almost done that and then come back in here wanting to do more. It's just not right. Even I know that."

The side of my lip twitches. "Since when do you care about what's right or wrong?"

"Are you testing me? If you start testing me, I'll cave," he says with a half smile, walking closer to me.

I shake my head vigorously and put my hands up. "Nah, I think we should just be friends."

He stops walking and laughs loudly, throwing his head back. "It's not you, it's me?"

I crinkle my nose. "Something like that," I reply with a laugh.

And just like that, we're back to being us.

"Tonight's the big party here," he whispers as I take a sip of c.o.ke. "I'm going to leave the door unlocked for you and this under the bed." He pulls out a small flip phone from his back pocket and slides it under the mattress. "Listen to me very f.u.c.king carefully, Blake, because I don't want this to get f.u.c.ked up. You don't use that phone-period. I call you, it vibrates, you get it and do not pick it up. You'll see Unknown Caller on the screen, and you get up, turn the bathroom light on, lock the door and close it. Then you leave this room and go the back way to the right of the kitchen, everyone will be in the yard. You open the front door and f.u.c.king run- not walk, not jog-you f.u.c.king run, do you understand?" he whispers harshly.

I nod, my eyes wide, mouth slack just staring at him. "And then what?" I whisper back softly.

"You run out of the gates and make a right, my truck will be there. If you're not there twelve minutes after I call you, I'm coming for you."

"Okay."

"Okay? This is important s.h.i.+t, Blake. We can't f.u.c.k up," he says, his eyes growing serious. "Run it by me. Tell me everything you're going to do."

So I do.

Three times.

I tell him step by step exactly what I'll do when the phone under my mattress vibrates. By the time I repeat it a third time, my words are strained and I have tears in my eyes because it's real and I can't believe I'm finally getting the h.e.l.l out of here. As he stands up, he eyes me sadly and cups the back of my head, gently tugging the hair in my ponytail and tilting my head to place a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Everything will be fine, chick. I'll see you later," he whispers before walking out and closing the door. I hold my breath and lean forward on the mattress, sitting on pins and needles, waiting to hear whether or not the door will lock. When I can no longer hold my breath, I exhale, my heart beating erratically at the realization that he left it unlocked. This is real. I'm that much closer to my escape. After looking at the back of the door for what feels like an eternity, I stand and pace back and forth a couple of times while rubbing my lower back with both hands. I plop down on the mattress and look around the empty, dark room. The only light s.h.i.+ning is coming from the squiggly lines on the messed up TV on the old brown dresser. I am so not going to miss this place. When the pain in my lower back begins to worsen again, I close my eyes and lie on the bed, placing an arm over my eyes even though I'm trying to fight my exhaustion in efforts to stay awake. I can't miss the call.

Eventually, I gasp awake at m.u.f.fled vibrations and sit up quickly, sliding my hand under the mattress to get the flip phone. My heart hammers against my chest when I read Unknown Caller on the screen. I clutch it in my hands and get up swiftly, moaning from the pain in my back that I no longer have time to worry about. I speed to the bathroom and flip the light on, look around and blink away the tears that threaten to surface as I recall the dreadful memories I've had in here. I turn around and step back into the room, locking and closing the bathroom door behind me. I leave the television on and put on the pair of tattered flip flops they gave me before heading to the door. I roll up my too-long-to-walk sweats up to my knees and place one hand on the k.n.o.b, taking a deep breath.

b.u.t.terflies swarm my core as I turn the doork.n.o.b and open the door slowly, sticking my head out to make sure n.o.body is around. I tiptoe out and close it quietly behind me before placing the lock on it. I allow myself to dwell on it for a couple of seconds before shaking my head and continuing to tiptoe toward the stairs. A s.h.i.+ver runs through me as I ascend to the main story of the house, standing for a count of two and rocking on my heels as I clutch on to the doork.n.o.b with a shaky hand. I slip off my sandals after I turn the k.n.o.b and open it slightly, listening acutely to the muted conversations. I tuck my head in, tilting it to the right, then left before stepping out and shutting the door behind me. I stride to the right, walking as quickly as I can on the palms of my feet, pa.s.sing the kitchen entrance, a formal living room, a dual staircase and lavish entryway before I reach the front door. The house is well lit but quiet on this side, just as Dean said it would be since the party is going on out back. I open the door and breathe a sigh of relief when the fresh air greets me. I bend down to slip my feet back into the sandals and look at the phone in my hand, but it's still blank. I contemplate opening it and calling the police, Cole, anybody, but Dean's words ring louder than my gut feeling, so I opt against it. I continue my walk across the vast lawn, listening to Frank's Sinatra's melodic voice and the mix of men's loud chatter and women's laughter.

I am thoroughly disgusted that they are having a full on party, all while thinking that I'm locked up in their bas.e.m.e.nt. A part of me wants to run out there, scream my head off and let everybody know that they kidnapped me, but the smarter part of me just wants to get out of here as soon as possible. My breathing is ragged as I continue shuffling my feet to the gate, which I'm supposed to walk out of and meet Dean on the other side. I pick up the pace a little when I reach it and hold one of the cool iron bars between my hands, pulling it a little. When it doesn't budge, I put my strength into it, pulling it with both hands. I let out a breath and wipe my sweaty hands over my sweats before trying again. A sudden sharp pain stabs my abdomen, making me gasp and let go of the bars to place my hands on my midriff. I look down at myself and squeeze my eyes shut. "We're going to be okay. We're going to be okay. I'm going to get us out of here," I whisper, channeling this baby and praying for our safety.

The sound of rustling behind me jars me out of my thoughts and makes my head snap in that direction. My stomach drops when I see a large figure approaching me in the darkness. I don't need light or sound to tell me who it is, I'd know that body, that walk, anywhere. The fact that it's coming my way causes my heart to kick into overdrive. I whimper, turning my body slightly to hold on to the bars and begin to pull again with all my might, making the gate finally creek in motion.

He runs up behind me and closes a rough hand over the top of my arm, making me shriek in surprise as he jerks me to him. He turns me around to face him and lets go of my arm, taking a step back to narrow his eyes at me.

"The f.u.c.k do you think you're going?" Benny snarls. "You thought you could be slick and get the f.u.c.k out?"

I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head vigorously, refusing to answer him with words. How did he find me so fast? Was he on to Dean and me the entire time? Did he hear our conversations? Where in the world is Dean? Was it all a set up?

"ANSWER ME!" he booms, jarring me from my thoughts. "Did you think you could get away from me? I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU!"

With the dim streetlight, I can make out the wildness in his dark eyes before he charges toward me.

I don't have much time to react, my only instinct is to curl up and protect my barely visible pregnant stomach before he reaches me. He grabs me by the hair and jerks me forward, dragging me along with him. Tears well up in my eyes and a scream escapes me when I realize he's heading back toward the house. I can't go back there. I can't. s.h.i.+vered sobs rake through my body as I lurch forward and carve my fingers into the wet gra.s.s below me, but he's stronger than I am and in one hard pull has me tumbling over myself.

"GET UP! GET UP, b.i.t.c.h!" he shouts loudly. So loudly that I can just silently hope that somebody in the party hears him and comes out front.

I shake my head, still sobbing and look around at the neighboring homes that are too far to detect any noise. The chatter from the party hasn't died down so I know they haven't heard his shouts or my sobs. I place the palms of my hands flat on the ground relying on them and my sc.r.a.ped knees to keep myself up as I try to steady my breath. My eyes find his black pointy dress shoes and I notice he's wearing dress pants. I make the effort to crane my head, taking in his formal attire before I see the grim look on his scarred face. When his eyes meet mine, he hawks a spit at me that grazes the tip of my nose before landing on my chin. I close my eyes, sobbing louder at the pain, the thought that I don't know how I'll get out of this if I can't even let go of the ground long enough to wipe my face. I try to take a breath to calm the waves of fear that are radiating through my body.

He s.h.i.+fts his feet so that his body is beside me, and suddenly kicks my stomach with such bluntness, that I instantly fall over and gasp for air. I roll onto my side, placing my hands over my lower abdomen to keep it safe, mentally praying, BEGGING the G.o.d I was taught but have never really known to believe in, to help me and my baby get through this. After finding out I was pregnant, not once did I touch my stomach, not once did I speak to it, not once did I feel excited about it, but now that it's in danger I feel like it's the only thing I have. It's the only part of me that I want to keep safe. Need to keep safe.

He crouches down and grabs me by the hair, making me squeeze my eyes shut at the pain before placing his lips over my ear. "You never answered me, b.i.t.c.h. You thought you were gonna leave here? You thought I was done with you?" he rages.

"No," I whimper.

"NO WHAT?" he shouts, causing an instant ache in my eardrum.

"Didn't think-" I begin.

"NO! YOU DIDN'T THINK!" he shouts again before grabbing a handful of my hair and pounding my head to the floor.

He gets up, scooping my body with him before slamming me back down on the ground, making my head tilt back and forth like a rag doll. He gives me no time to collect myself before kicking sharply on my right side.

"Ah!" I shriek. "Please!"

"Shut up, b.i.t.c.h! Shut the f.u.c.k up!" he yells.

"Please stop!" I say, my voice low and guttural, before he slams his fist against my face. I hear more than I feel the crack and instantly taste the iron in my mouth.

He kicks me again, closer to my stomach, right over my left hand making me scream in agony. "Please!" I beg in a whisper, feeling the strength in my fight fade with each blow. "Please...baby..."

"What? You don't like to be hit? You think I didn't scream when they did this to my f.u.c.king face? THIS," he shouts, and I know he's pointing at his face, but my heavy eyes won't open to let me see. "OPEN YOUR EYES, G.o.dDAMMIT! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

I pry my eyes open as far as they go, tears spilling down my face and sobs sputtering out of me. "Baby," I plead, my voice barely a whisper. My eyes shut again before I can stop them.

The next time I flutter my eyes open a little, I see him put his arm behind his back and bring something to the front of his body. My eyes open as wide as my face allows and I bring my hands up to s.h.i.+eld my face. I hear Dean screaming loudly and rus.h.i.+ng toward us. The last thing I see are Benny's dark hateful eyes before he slams the bottle of liquor over my head and pushes me into blackness.

The sound of my ringing phone makes my heart and stomach simultaneously clench. Anytime it rings, a surge of hope streams through me only to be quickly covered in dread because every time it rings it's a let down. I stare at it for a second longer before answering.

"h.e.l.lo?" I ask and hold my breath.

"This Cole?" asks a male voice I don't recognize.

"Who's this?" I ask quietly.

"Blake's at St. Joseph's Hospital. You should probably go as soon as you can. Critical."

The air swishes in and out of my body so quickly, I barely have time to recover my breath before answering. "What? Who...who is this?" I stammer.

"Blake. St. Joseph's. Critical. Don't got time." Then the line goes dead. I look at my phone for a minute and shut my mouth before my brain kicks in again, adrenaline already a resident in my heart. I grab my keys and run out of the apartment dialing Aubry's number on the way to the car. When it goes to his voicemail, I try Connor's number instead to see if he heard anything. Today was supposed to be the day he picked me up to get Blake wherever she is and my stomach is in knots thinking about something going wrong.

"Yo, bad news," he says as a greeting.

"What?" I ask, anxiety overtaking my body.

"It's not happening today," he replies, sounding exhausted.

It occurs to me that this wasn't a prank call-this wasn't a way for them to get me there so they could take me too. This is real. Blake's really at the hospital, and the thought of the words Blake, hospital, and critical being in the same sentence hit me like a ton of bricks.

"f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. I just got a call," I mutter, letting go of a sharp breath.

"No s.h.i.+t? What's going on?" he asks and sounds genuinely confused, but then, he always does.

"Some guy said Blake is at St. Joseph's and critical."

"f.u.c.k. Meet you there," he says and hangs up.

I contemplate calling Mark or Aubry but I can't process anything more. My mind is a jumbled mess, yet blank at the same time, so I just repeat the mantra: Please let her be okay, all the way there.

I arrive at the hospital and run full speed to the ER. I tell the front nurse that I'm looking for Blake Brennan.