Lost for You (Lost #2)(37)
Author: B.J. Harvey

The restaurant backs onto an alley, and I realize that once I’m taken outside, I’ll have even less of a chance of being traced. I rack my hazy brain as each step the man takes leads me further away from Brax and the boys. I grab at my neck, finding my necklace. With no other options, I rip it away from me and drop it on the hallway floor just as I’m taken through the open back door.

The man carrying me dumps me roughly into the car’s trunk before grabbing some rope, pulling my arms behind my back and binding them. I try to cry out, but no sound comes out except a hoarse moan as my eyes close and I’m plunged into darkness.

I check my watch. Elle’s been gone for ten minutes.

“What’s up, B?” Shay asks.

“Elle’s been gone awhile. I’m just gonna check that she’s okay.”

He quirks his brow. “You need me?”

“Not yet, but maybe you two should settle the bill. Something feels off,” I say, getting to my feet and walking towards the back of the large restaurant.

I turn the corner into a long dark hallway and notice a back door leading to an alley is open. Seems rather strange. I reach the ladies room door, and see that the supply closet door is also open, and there is linen strewn around the floor and cleaning products spilled everywhere. Definite signs of a struggle. Fuck! I quickly pull the bathroom door open.

“Elle?”

“Elle, are you okay?”

“Darlin’, answer me!”

I barge in, not caring if I interrupt anyone. I look under each stall and find them all empty. I run back out into the hallway and down towards the open door. I look down both ends of the alley, finding it empty. I suddenly feel a chill run down my spine as I’m hit with the real possibility that Elle has been abducted right underneath our f**king noses. Fuck!

“Shay!” I yell down the hallway, seeing Shay and Devon rushing towards me after a few seconds.

“Someone has taken her, man. She’s not in the ladies, the supply closet is messed up, and this door was wide open,” I state, talking way too quickly. I rest my hands on my knees as I try to slow my breathing down. Then I see it, a silver chain sticking out from under my sneaker. I quickly bend down to grab it and recognize it straight away as Elle’s infinity necklace. I clutch it in my hand.

“She’s definitely been taken. This is her necklace.” I hold out my hands to them so they can see.

“I’m calling the cops,” Shay says, his phone already in hand as he punches in 911.

“What do you need me to do, bro?” Devon asks.

“Go see the manager and ask if there are any cameras in the alley or hallway. We need to see who took her. Better still, what they were driving. I’m gonna call Elle’s phone, then I’m calling Victor. If it’s who I think it is, we need all the help we can get.”

I punch in Elle’s number and it rings until voicemail picks up. I know it was in her back pocket because she’d left her handbag at home. I ring it once more and I hear my ring tone playing softly from somewhere close by.

“Guys shut up. I can hear her phone ringing,” I say as I redial her number. I hear the music playing again. I walk down the hallway, the noise getting louder as I get close to the supply closet. Mother f**ker!

“Dammit!” I yell, kicking the wall.

“What?” Devon asks, running to my side.

I point to the open supply cupboard where Elle’s phone is lying on a wooden shelf. The f**ker took it off her. How the hell are we going to find her now?

I put my phone to my ear again, dialing the boss. Thankfully he picks up straight away.

“Brax,” his low voice rumbles.

“Someone took her, Vic! From right under our bloody noses!” I’m yelling down the phone, so f**king angry at myself. She was only gone for ten minutes. That’s all it f**king took.

“Calm down. Now, tell me what we know. Have you called the police?”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Shay’s on the phone to them now. Devon’s checking out the alley and hallway for cameras. She went to the ladies and didn’t come back. There are signs of a struggle, and the back door of the restaurant was left open, leading into an alley. If it is Gibbons, I’ll f**king kill him myself.”

“Join the f**king queue, Brax. This is what you need to do. I need you guys to think about any place where he could’ve taken her. Gibbon’s is smart, but he’s not in his neck of the woods so he won’t go far. And I think you’ll be receiving a ransom call from him. Sooner, rather than later,” he states very matter of factly. “But until then, I’ll get the boys on it. We’ll find him, and we’ll find her. I swear, Brax.”

I open my eyes, and I instantly feel closed in. I can’t move my arms which are stretched uncomfortably behind my back. My legs feel sluggish, and my head is throbbing. Then I remember what happened. Someone took me. Grabbed me from the restaurant, then threw me in this trunk.

Brax! Oh my god, he’ll be frantic! I try to move my tightly bound hands again, but the rope keeps digging into my wrists the harder I try to free them. My ripped skin stings as it is exposed to the air. My heart sinks. I’m completely helpless right now.

I have to stay calm. I have to believe that the boys will find me. That Brax will save me.

19

What the f**k have I just done?

Desperation will drive a man to do anything, to take the biggest chances, to fight the odds, to make the biggest mistakes of his life.

I can hear her yelling from the trunk. Her screams tear through me. My warring conscience is eating away at me, but I have no other option. I have to continue on.

After driving for about fifty miles, I reach my destination. When I made the decision to kidnap Elle for ransom, I knew I wasn’t thinking straight, so I reached out to the one man I thought would help me. The only other man other than Harry Brimstone that hates the boss as much as I do. It took a few days to get hold of him, but he sounded way too pleased to hear from me. Almost like he was expecting my call.

Michael Evans is widely known to be corrupt and dirty. He’s been on the take for a number of years, and it’s no secret that he hates Victor Bertorelli. Actually, hate is too nice of a world. He despises the man with a deep passion. I’ve never found out why, but I suspect it’s some sordid deal gone wrong in the past.

“Why are you calling me, Gibbons?” he asked when he returned my third call.

“I need a safe house in New York state. Somewhere out of the way and undetectable.”