Page 58 of Chasing the Flame
There’s something wrong. I woke up in a panic, sweating profusely, and in an empty bed. Jettson’s nowhere to be found, and my head is throbbing.
The last thing I remember is setting a time to meet up with Dahlia tomorrow. To make a solid plan, and then hopefully she can help me stay hidden. After we chatted, Elliot left, taking a very groggy Lucy with him.
I don’t remember anything after that. It’s like my mouth is filled with sand, and my limbs are a little fuzzy. My vision is swimming and I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on.
A creak spills into the air, shocking me to silence. I listen intently, blinking my eyes several times to try to adjust to the dim lighting. It’sno use, my migraine is making it impossible to see clearly. There’s soft footsteps, shuffling, and a long drawn out scrape that sends a chill up my spine.
I’m practically straining my neck, holding my breath and listening with every bit of concentration. It sounds like the doorknob is rustling, but I can’t be sure.
My heart is thundering in my chest, my blood rushing to my ear. A shuffle, scuffs of boots as they drag across the floor. Or is it my ears playing tricks on me? I feel like my heart is about to explode, and I can’t hear a damn thing above the roar in my ears.
A hand reaches out and grabs my neck, clamping tightly around my throat. I scream and thrash wildly, trying to hit my assailant. A deep chuckle spills from the man, and my blood runs cold.
I’d recognize his laugh anywhere.
“Found you, you stupidbitch,” he whispers in my ear.
I buck harder, fighting against him with everything I’ve got. It’s not enough. His hand jerks down, clamping around my mouth, a thick cloth the only barrier between us.
When the sickly sweet smell of chloroform hits me, I know it’s over.
He’swon.
I’m disoriented as fuck. There’s an aching pain in the back of my skull and I can’t make heads or tails of what happened.
I woke up lying face down on the porch, which is fucked in itself. I can’t remember why I’m even out here, or how it happened. I’m struggling to reconcile with where I woke up vs what I was doing that would’ve brought me out here in the first place.
Picking myself up off the porch, I dust my clothes off and wobble toward the door. It feels like my feet are lead, stuck in quicksand and I’m drowning in it.
My stomach clenches painfully, a wave of dread fogging my mind. I feel like I’ve forgotten something important. Something crucial and I can’t seem to get a hold of the thought.
I’m almost to the doorframe when a single thought comes flooding back.Averie. I stumble inside, shouting her name. My heart drops to my stomach as I take in the small cabin. My eyes scan the kitchen area, the bed, couch and rest of the room. The bedsheets are crumpled, bunched up like there was a slight struggle. Panic claws at me, rearing its ugly head at the worst possible moment.
I lumber toward the bathroom, almost falling face first into the tile from dizziness. It has got to go. I don’t have time for this shit. Iflick the lights on, jerk back the shower curtain only to have my chest fall in disappointment.
It’s the same, no signs of Averie, no signs of even being used.
It’s like she vanished into thin air.
Luke. The only plausible explanation.
The pain is ripping me to shreds, fear and worry rushing through me like an electric current. I yell, dropping to my knees, pounding my fists into the tile as my screams and sobs fill the room. I’ve failed her. Again.
I let my guard down last night, I must’ve. It’s my fault she’s gone… but I’ll be damned if I let that monster fucking have her.
Pulling myself together, I get off the floor, and spring into action. There’s phone calls to make, and I need to get a hold of Dahlia. Thank fuck I still have her number.
I snatch my phone out of my back pocket, inspecting it to make sure nothing is broken. Surprisingly, it looks like my body took most of the impact. My vision swims, but I manage to voice command call her, anxiously waiting while the phone rings.
She answers on the third ring, sounding completely out of breath. “Yeah?”
“It’s Jettson. Listen, we have a fucking problem,” I snarl into the phone. “Luke has Averie.”
Whatever smart ass retort I’m sure she was cooking up, seems to die, and silence fills the receiver. “What do you mean,” she asks slowly. There’s an edge to her voice, and a tone I don’t care for.
I know I fucked up. I don’t need this shit from her. “I don’t know what happened, but I woke up face down on the goddamn porch, okay? He has her!”
“Calm down, calm down, don’t get your bloomers in a twist. Did Averie have her phone on her? Wait, scratch that. It doesn’t matter.I can ping Luke’s phone. I’ll have her coordinates in minutes,” she says in that irritating southern drawl. There’s a clicking noise in the background that can only be her keyboard, and the repetition grates my nerves.
