“Just a little place I’ve been fixing up for us,” he answered. “We’re nearly there.”
He pulled off the freeway and onto a tree-lined street I’d driven through many times in my years in Hawthorne.
“Here we are,” he announced proudly as he pulled into the driveway of a single-story home with a white picket fence.
I prayed someone, anyone, would see us as he held the gun trained on me, forcing me to walk ahead of him into the house.
The house was remarkable in how unremarkable it was. I’d expected something dark and dreary, for the walls to be covered in photos of me, something to indicate his obvious obsession. Instead, this looked like a perfectly ordinary home; it was charming even.
“I’ll give you a tour later,” he said as he pushed me gently toward a set of stairs off the kitchen. “I’ve got the master bedroom all decorated with your favorite colors, but for now, you’ll need to stay down here until I can trust you not to run away again.”
As we descended down the stairwell, dread swirled in my belly as we left the quaint kitchen and arrived in a basement outfitted with a floor-to-ceiling-sized cage.
“No!” I protested. “Don’t make me go in there. I won’t run away, I promise,” I pleaded, eyeing the cell outfitted with a bed and toilet, feeling a fear I’d never known until that moment.
“It’s just for a little while, sweetie,” he crooned, opening the door and giving me a little shove inside.
The door shut with a resounding metal clang I felt all the way to my bones.
He sat on a nearby chair outside of the cell, and for the first time, I noticed how pale he was. “I just need to clean myself up.” He sighed tiredly. “There are some fresh towels and a bucket of water for you to freshen up,” he added, as though I was preparing for a night out rather than cleaning a bullet wound.
I didn’t take the time to protest as I sat on the small bed and immediately dipped a towel into the nearby bucket. I needed to clean away some of the blood to get an idea of what I was dealing with. Not that that would tell me much. I wasn’t a nurse.
The bucket quickly turned red with my blood as I dipped the towel repeatedly, finally able to see the quarter-sized wound. I could feel the bullet still lodged there. Was that good or bad? Should I try to pull it out? With what?
While I deliberated, I pulled a pillowcase off the nearby pillow, tying it just above my kneecap in hopes of staunching the blood flow.
When I looked at Jared again, his posture was slumped and his pallor had grown gray. “You’re going to bleed to death,” I informed him quietly. “You should call an ambulance.”
He offered a shallow laugh in return. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You were always looking for an excuse to get away from me. Even when I paid that idiot to rob you in that parking lot, you wouldn’t even let me drive you home!” His gaze flared with anger before growing dull once more from blood loss. “Always too good for me. Well, not anymore. We’re going to stay here together until you accept me. Until you love me the way that I love you.”
Holy shit, he was so twisted.
“Rest up, sweetie.” He sighed, shutting his eyes and leaning back in his seat. “I’m just going to take a little nap, and I’ll be good as new.”
Realization hit me with horrifying force. He was going to die and leave me trapped in this cage.
I stood up, grasping the bars with both hands. “Jared!” I cried, trying to rouse him. “You’re dying. Let me out so I can help,” I insisted.
He smiled serenely but didn’t open his eyes. “I knew you’d want to take care of me the way that I want to take care of you, Wren.”
“Jared!” I cried desperately, terror sweeping through me as the reality of my situation loomed.
He didn’t respond, and after a moment, he started to slide toward the right, careening off the chair and collapsing on the ground in a heap.
He was dead. I knew it without doubt and yet, couldn’t seem to believe it. For a few moments, I just stood there looking at his waxen form and tried to think clearly.
Desperation took over as I tried frantically to pull the iron bars apart. When that didn’t work, I dumped the water out of the bucket and hurled it repeatedly at the bars, hoping for a weak spot, hoping to make a crack, a dent, anything.
Nothing worked.
I clung to the bars, my head drooped, chest heaving as the enormity of my situation loomed.
It was several moments before I could collect myself enough to take stock of my situation. The toilet had water, so at least I wouldn’t die of thirst. I didn’t have any food, and my leg was still oozing blood. How long could I survive down here? A few days? A week? How would anyone ever find me?
I sat on the edge of the bed and allowed myself to break down. The thought of dying down here, of never seeing Max again, of not having the life with him I’d wanted more than anything, was more than I could bare.
Chapter 31
MAX
The ride back to Hawthorne was excruciating. Knowing Wren had been shot and was now dealing with a bullet wound and a psychopath had me on the brink of sanity myself. When we crested the road up to Axel’s, the sun was dipping in the sky. His driveway was lined with bikes and familiar SUV’s, the majority of the club having gathered no doubt to help how they could.
As I stalked into the house, my gaze immediately locked on Caleb and nothing else. Before I was even aware I’d moved, I had him by the throat and pressed to the nearest wall. “I trusted you to protect her!” I roared, my face inches from his. I wanted to tear him limb from limb for failing Wren, for failing me.
I distantly noticed through my rage-filled haze that he didn’t fight me, but simply stood, seeming ready to accept whatever punishment I doled out.
A hand appeared on my shoulder, pressing firmly. “We don’t have time for this,” Sal’s voice sounded in my ear. “Leave him be and get your head on straight. Wren’s waiting for you.”
After a moment, I nodded, shoving Caleb away from me in disgust.
I turned to face the room full of my family and brothers. “What do we know?”
“Already went by the house he grew up in. It was sold a few years back, so that’s a dead end,” Gunner shared in frustration. It was in that moment, I realized that Wren wasn’t just mine. No, my girl had worked her way into the hearts of the entire club throughout her life and more recently, when we’d gotten together. “Now that we know who we’re dealing with, we’ve been learning what we can. X and Wes are out talkin' to some guys Caleb said he seemed tight with in school.”
I shot another glare at Caleb before turning my attention back to Gun. “That’s it?”
He shook his head, as though reluctant to share more. “I did some digging. He was locked up for a few years. I haven’t had much time to get into the details, but it looks like he was stalking a woman at Penn State. He got locked up for failing to comply with a restraining order and a few other misdemeanors.”
“That’s why he didn’t show up in Oregon until recently,” I surmised. “Is that it?”
“For now.” Gunner nodded reluctantly. “We’re doing everything we can, man.”