Page 92 of Lost on Ice
“Like hell I’m backing off!” I shout. “I’m not going to just sit back while some psycho has her! I’m way closer to her and by the time you get there, it could be too late.”
“Jake, let the professionals handle this! We have trained negotiators. SWAT. People who know how to deescalate these kinds of situations so no one gets hurt!”
“You’re wasting time trying to talk me out of it.” I’m squeezing the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles are white. “I’m going, whether you like it or not, so I suggest you focus on getting to Abbie first if you don’t want me to tear Westbrook apart with my bare hands!”
Peterson releases a frustrated growl. “All right, fine! I’m not going to argue with you, but when you get there, you wait outside. No fucking way you’re going in on your own. You stay and wait for us to get there. You got me?”
I gnash my teeth in frustration, but I hiss, “Fine. I’ll wait outside.”
“Good. We’ll be there right away.”
I hang up without bothering to tell him goodbye as I push my speed to ninety-five down the freeway. I would’ve told Peterson anything he wanted to hear to get him off my back.
His commands don’t matter. Nothing matters but getting to Abbie as fast as I can.
I just pray I don’t get there too late.
Chapter Thirty
JAKE
As I pullinto a long driveway lined with tall, old trees that leads to an old farmhouse and dilapidated barn, I turn my headlights off. The whole area is only lit by moonlight, and I want to keep the element of surprise on my side. I park in the shadows cast by the canopy of branches the trees provide and grab my phone to call Peterson.
“Peterson,” he answers in a gruff tone.
“Hey, it’s Jake,” I murmur, scanning the overgrown farmyard for any movement. “I’m at the address…”
My eyes land on Abbie’s car parked to the side of the barn and my heart starts racing.
I get out of the car as Peterson tells me, “We’re still a few minutes out.”
However, I’m barely listening as I duck down and head toward the barn, sticking to the shadows as much as I can, moving as quietly as possible even though my heart is racing and I’m fighting the urge to charge inside the barn right this moment.
“Jake? Jake, what are you doing?” Peterson demands to know when I don’t respond to him for several moments.
“I found Abbie’s car,” I whisper. “It’s outside this rundown old barn, and…” I freeze when I look down and spot a cellphone lying next to the driver’s door. “Fuck.”
“What is it?”
“I found her phone.” I bend down to pick up the device. It’s still on, which I realize is amazing luck. Westbrook must not have really thought through this kidnapping if he didn’t even make sure her phone was off.
“Jake, remember our agreement?” Peterson says in a terse voice. “You wait outside until we get there. Stay fucking put and don’t do anything stupid…”
A scream suddenly rips through the air.
“Abbie!” I cry, dropping my phone and rushing toward the barn doors without thinking. That scream was laced with more than fear—there was pain in it. My mind races with horrible images and scenarios of what could be happening to her. Is he beating her? Forcing himself on her?
I’m going to fucking tear the bastard apart!
Reaching the doors, I shove them open and rush inside. I see Abbie straight ahead, tied to a chair with rough rope. She’s dressed in the little black dress she’d put on for her night out with Sophie. It’s covered in dirt and grime, now. Her face is streaked with mascara, and her cheek is bruised. Did the fucker hit her?
Westbrook is standing over her, holding a fistful of her hair to pull her head back, and at her throat he holds a large butcher knife. The buttoned-up doctor with the slicked back hair I met before is gone, replaced with a wild lunatic in a bloodstained dress shirt, rolled up sleeves, and with a crazy look in his eyes as he gazes at me.
“Let her go, Westbrook!” I bellow, sliding to a stop.
The bastard sneers at me. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “Look at you, charging in here like some fucking white knight come to save the damsel in distress. You’re such a goddamn cliche.”
I grit my teeth and curl my hands into fists at my sides. “I said let her go.”
