Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cell Phones

Gabe signed his name to the construction contract Lauren’s father had drawn up. In the past hour, James had given him a tour of the five-thousand-square-foot home he’d purchased for his daughter and a detailed list of the things needing upgrades.

The man also gave him a thorough description of the reasons Gabe should help talk Lauren into moving into the mammoth structure. Since he had enough sense to know when to speak and when not to, he nodded at all the right times and bit his tongue.

“So you think by the time we get back from Maui you’ll have the renovations done?”

Gabe scanned the spacious living room and nodded. “I’m hoping so.”

As long as he planned on not eating or sleeping, three weeks would be plenty of time to rip out marble flooring, put in hardwood, change countertops, paint, update appliances and build a deck.

He’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity though. The money they offered him guaranteed he and Evan could stay in Denver and now he knew exactly where Lauren was going on Tuesday.

James pulled out his credit card. “Good. Here’s the card to use for the materials you’ll need. Make sure to keep the receipts.”

Gabe took the platinum card and slipped it into his wallet.

“Here, let me write out the deposit check for you. You’ll get the rest and an extra ten percent if you’re able to finish and have the place move-in ready by the time we’re back.”

Gabe watched him fill in the zeroes and smiled. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

The man handed him the signed paper and shook his hand. “You helped my daughter when she was in trouble and that means a lot to me. It’s why I’m trusting you with this project. Don’t give me a reason to regret this decision.”

“I won’t, sir.”

Before they could say any more, James’s phone rang. He held up a finger and answered the call.

Around the same time, Gabe’s phone buzzed. He headed outside for some privacy as he took his mom’s call. “Hey, everything okay?”

“No, it’s not. You need to come home now.”

The muscles in the back of his neck tightened. “What happened to Evan?”

“He’s fine now. We ran a quick errand for Lauren, and by the time we got back the police were all over the street. They won’t let us in. The poor kid had a massive panic attack as soon as he saw all the activity. I finally got him calmed down enough to call you.”

A thousand questions shot into his head as she rambled, but he kept his voice calm and focused on the main two. “Why are the police there? Where’s Lauren?”

“I don’t know why they’re here. And no one’s telling us anything, but they asked me all sorts of questions about the last time I saw her and Jack, what she was wearing, and if I saw anything suspicious in the backyard when I left.”

Gabe got in his truck and put his keys in the ignition. Everything she was saying led his brain to the same conclusion: Lauren was in trouble and the mystery person in the woods had something to do with it.

He shut his eyes and took long deep breaths. Until he found out what was going on, he needed to stay calm.

“We have Sunny’s car. I’m going to get Evan out of here.”

“Good idea. Get him as far away from there as possible. Check into a hotel and make sure no one’s following you.”

“You think this has something to do with Houston?”

“I don’t know, but don’t want to take any chances,” he said as he reversed out of the driveway.

Gabe saw James Baxter running across the lawn to his expensive car. The man’s cell was glued to his ear and worry lines filled his forehead.

A thought popped into his head. “You two get out of there, and don’t come back until I call you.”

He pulled up to the man and rolled down his window. “We’re headed to the same place. Get in.”

Since he didn’t have many friends, not a lot of people had Ben’s cell number. The ones who did knew better than to call him before three in the afternoon. After working the nightshift, he was usually dead to the world until then.

Still half asleep, he picked up the phone to check the time when he noticed a missed call and voicemail. His face heated when he saw Lauren’s name on the little screen. He used to fantasize about her calling him. Ached to hear the words “I forgive you and still love you”.

Ben turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. After this morning, he didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t want to hear the worry in her voice or the questions of if he was okay.

The hope of getting her back still lingered, and always would. But it had never occurred to him how hard it would be to see her with someone else while he waited for her. Finding out she’d slept with some guy she barely knew was like a knife to his gut.

Reality was a fucking bitch sometimes.

A thought occurred to him and he checked to see when she called. Twenty-three minutes ago.

The blade shoved into his gut earlier in the day twisted a little deeper. She’d waited a little over seven hours to check in on him. Obviously, there were other things occupying her attention.

When his mind started drifting into images of what those other things were, he threw the phone across the room and headed for the bathroom.

Somebody fucking shoot me. No way in hell was he going to let his mind go there.

A little while later, Ben came out of the bathroom, dressed for the gym. Pocketing his car keys and wallet, he laced his shoes.

When he picked up his phone from the floor, he stared at the screen. He didn’t have to call her back, right? Just listen to her message. The day had already gone to shit. Why not put a cherry on it?

He punched in the password and turned on the speaker, bracing himself.

“Ben, I know you’re mad at me and we need to finish talking about this morning, but something’s going on behind the house.”

He put the volume on the highest setting and focused on the nervousness in her voice.

“…Jack got out of the fence and he’s barking like crazy. Can you send someone out—”

A chill shot up his spine. He swallowed the bile rising in his gut, praying she was inside her house. Before he could finish his prayer, a faint sound in the distance had her sucking in a breath and whispering Jack’s name.

Ben’s mind raced. He grabbed the home phone with his free hand and called the Denver PD, telling them to get to her house while he listened to the message. From the thumping sounds he heard, she was running, and with the way she was breathing, scared shitless.

His heart stopped when she screamed. By the time a man’s grunts joined Lauren’s groans of pain, Ben’s was sprinting to his car. A loud beep, like someone pressing a button on the phone, interrupted the sounds coming from the receiver.

“What are you, blind and deaf? I said, Where. Is. The. Kid?”

The tires squealed out of the lot as Ben headed toward Denver. It didn’t matter who she loved or slept with. He just wanted her safe and alive. And he wanted to kill the motherfucker.

“Do you know why my gun’s hot?” Ben’s ability to breathe had just ceased at the mention of a weapon. “I used it to kill your dog.”

He honked at the drivers around him for not letting him pass. Lauren was out there, alone with some lunatic who had a fucking gun.

He couldn’t hear everything she said but the fear in Lauren’s voice had him clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

Hang on, baby. They’re on their way.

“Told it to shut up or die. It made its choice, now it’s your turn to choose. Call them or I’ll kill you.”

Ben kept the phone glued to his ear and his eyes straight ahead as the nauseating sounds of a struggle, heavy crashes and garbled voices echoed through his car.

When she cried out in pain, it was as if someone had shoved their hands in his chest and crushed every organ in his ribcage.

The asshole grunted. “Fucking bitch,” and then there was silence.

Ben was pushing well over a hundred and yelling at the phone, the world. He cursed the cars on the highway as he weaved through traffic, pushing his silver sedan to move faster than it could. The commute normally took him a good hour—sixty minutes more than he could afford, and for the hundredth time in the past second, he wished he were driving the patrol cruiser.

With one hand on the wheel, he hit “replay” on the cell and listened to the conversation a second time, hoping to discover clues he’d missed the first time as questions continued to race through his brain. Who the fuck was she talking to? And where the hell was Gabe?

He ignored the incoming call from his ex-wife, Hailey. The same way he ignored the flashing lights of the one, then two, then three patrol cars following close behind.

One of Colorado Springs’ police cruisers pulled up alongside him on the highway. He lowered his window. Air blew into the car, making papers swirl.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing?” Hailey screamed from the other vehicle.

He kept his focus straight ahead and yelled back. “Lauren’s in trouble.”

“As in your Lauren?”

“The same.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Assault. Kidnapping. Attempted murder.”

“Shit.”

A second later, he had a police escort into the Denver city limits.