Abducted (Amber Alert Series Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter 5

 I tried to think of everything I knew about Steve Bennett to help me find a way out. His life had become a topic of study across the nation after he successfully captured thirteen girls. But since the laws had prevented us from learning details, and tried to save us from having another mass kidnapping, I didn’t know as much as I should. My mom would know more, and my father would know even better. I needed to know about Steve so that I could find out how Damien was going to act. How was he going to treat me, and how was life in this house going to be?

I glanced at the photos again; my mother was the reason I was here, Damien had said so, and he had brought me here to drag my mother out of hiding.

Steve captured the girls to be a replacement wife for the one he lost, Kelly, which was common knowledge due to his ravings in jail. Damien didn’t seem to want that since he didn’t call me Kelly or try to make a move on me. I made all the moves on him, and look where that got me—trapped in a concrete room. I wish I had known sooner that my mom was Anna Cowles; I would appreciate it right now. I would know how she escaped and maybe what to expect; but if she had told me, I either wouldn’t have believed her, or I would have run out on her as I just did.

I sighed in frustration. I wish that her photo could talk to me, tell me what she experienced and tell me how to get out. I just wanted to know what to expect, but Steve would be different than Damien.

I glanced at the photos again, and wondered how Damien was connected in all of this. What did Damien have to gain from taking me? He should know that people would start looking for me when I didn’t go back home right away. The laws made it mandatory to report someone that hadn’t been seen for a week. So what was worth the risk?

“Audrey, are you in there?” Damien’s voice asked through the door.

“Well, it’s not like I could go anywhere else,” I retorted with a drawn out sigh.

“It was only out of courtesy; don’t be rude,” he said, as he walked in and handed me a black sweatshirt.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s going to get cold in the next few weeks. I don’t want you to get sick,” he said nonchalantly, as he turned and walked out of the room.

“I won’t be here then.”  He stopped in his tracks as soon as the words left my mouth. I could see the anger in his eyes as he turned to glare at me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll get out of here. My family will be looking for me.”

“I don’t think they’ll start looking for you for a while. You ran off, remember? Who’s going to look for a runaway?”

"They will!"

"No, they won't. You screamed at them, told them you hated them, and said you wouldn't come back. You're not going anywhere."

He was right; no one was going to look for a runaway. I had run off a few times before, but I always came back. They would just wait for me to cool off and come back home, but I wasn’t going to. I was going to be stuck here with no help, only myself. It wasn’t a terrible thought; I have relied on myself since those laws took away my freedom, and I had to make my own.

“That’s what I thought,” Damien said as he turned to leave.

“I’ll escape,” I said, loud enough for him to hear me.

“I wouldn’t try that, Audrey. This house holds a lot of secrets, and even more traps. You won’t be getting out anytime soon, just accept it. You’re going to live in this room for a long time,” he said as he slammed the door behind him, not caring about what I said after he left.

“Fine, if I can’t escape, I’m going to figure out what you want from me and why you’re helping Steve. There’s got to be something in this house,” I said to myself.

I waited until I was sure Damien had gone down the stairs. I knew there were a few other rooms, one of which my father had stayed in while he and my mother had been trapped here together. My footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor as I traveled to the first room. It was an empty closet with nothing except a single hanger in it. I sighed heavily, then shut the door before moving on. I tried hard to keep my movements quiet, but the closet door squeaked, and I thought Damien would come sprinting up the stairs.

I took a relaxing breath as I made it to the next door, but it squeaked loudly—I froze. When I didn’t hear Damien coming up the stairs, I slid into the room and turned on the light; I had found a bathroom. I glanced around and noted the necessities were there—toilet paper and towels—but my eyes fell on a brown paper bag. The bag crumpled as my hand wrapped around to pull it out. I cringed at how loud the paper bag was. I quickly dumped out the contents and threw away the bag; I figured the less time I held it the less noise I would make. In my hand, I held a leather-bound book that was smooth to the touch. I felt a smile turning up at the corners of my lips as I opened the book.

Inside there was a signature on the first page. It was signed by Garrett Thomas and titled
The Chronicle of a Survivor
. I laughed slightly as the door behind me creaked open.

“What do you think you are doing?” I heard Damien ask from behind me.

“Going to the bathroom,” I said, hiding the journal behind my back—slowly placing it up my shirt to hide it from view.

“Let me see your hands,” he ordered. I showed him my hands, but when he tried to turn me around I had to think of a way to stop him. Without thinking, I stood up on my toes and kissed him lightly on the lips before turning and running away from him like a shy schoolgirl.

“Right,” Damien said in drawn out disbelief, as I ran back to my room. 

I knew kissing him was a cheap trick because it would distract him, but I needed to get out with the book. I had a strong feeling that my father had left me everything I needed to survive in this house. I could only hope I would finally listen to his advice so I could find my way back home.

Chapter 6

"So where are the other girls?" I asked Damien when I came out of my room for breakfast a few days later. He had left me alone for a while so that I could adjust, as he put it. I spent all that time reading my father's journal. I was thankful; even though his life was hell in this house, he took detailed notes so he could one day escape.

"What other girls?" he asked.

"You said you were a copycat, so there has to be other girls."

"I'm not an actual copycat. My job is just to make them think that they caught the wrong man. I need to get him out of jail somehow. Either they caught the wrong man, or they need his help to track me down."

"How does taking me help with that?"

"If Steve Bennett is in jail, how could he take you? If they couldn’t find him the first time, then they will need help to prevent another mass kidnapping."

"So you only have to take one person to make the plan work?"

"Yeah, and why would I want another girl? I wouldn't want you to get jealous of other girls," Damien said with a wink as brought breakfast to me.

"How can I be jealous if you held us against our will?"

"It's common knowledge that Steve Bennett made love to his wives."

"You mean he raped them,” I spat sourly. "Is that a threat Damien?" 

"I would never threaten you. When we make love you'll want it, too. You'll just have to accept our relationship."

"There is no relationship."

"That's not what you were hoping for last night."

"I'm in a relationship with someone already. You were a one night thing," I said with a smirk, knowing that would irritate him.

"Must be a very open relationship for you to have sex with me while you were with them,” he stated through gritted teeth.

"Well, it has to be open. It's illegal for individuals under eighteen to date, remember?"

"Nice way to avoid saying ‘kids,’ but you’re old enough to date." 

"But Mark isn't yet," I stated. Damien's face grew tense and irritated. He looked as if he was ready to punch something or someone; I just hoped I wasn’t the target.

"Well, I guess now I don't have competition," Damien said with a smirk as his expression changed. He let out a soft chuckle before taking a seat next to me.

"What do you mean?"

"In a few days he'll forget about you. You were a hook-up; he'll find someone else."

"No he won't! He wants to date me," I asserted.

"Did he tell you that? In those words exactly?"

"No, but—"

"There are no buts in this case, Audrey. If he wanted to date you, he would have told you. Hell, if I was under eighteen, I'd tell you I wanted to date you."

"Too bad you're, what, thirty-five?" I said, letting the sarcasm drip from my words.

"I'm twenty-one, thank you very much. I'm actually allowed to drink and go to bars like where I picked you up. I can't believe the bartender even served you a drink. You are obviously underage," Damien spat in my face, as if it was an insult.

"Clearly not underage enough for you to take hostage."

"You came with me willingly. You should be thankful!"

"How can I be thankful?"

"You're the one that wanted a way out. You didn't want to go back."

"I didn't want to be trapped here either!" I retorted, as a frown creased onto his lips.

"Well, now you have no choice," he said, forcibly getting up from the table, causing the chair to fall roughly onto the floor.

"Where are you going?" I asked, as he reached for a jacket.

"I'm going to get food and clear my head before I try to find Mark and punch him," Damien stated through gritted teeth, as he fought with the door and finally forced it open. 

The door slammed shut, the sound reverberated through the house, and left me standing in shock. It took me a few moments to realize that the car had driven off, and I was standing alone in the house. I tried to open the door, but I either wasn’t strong enough to pull it open, or he had locked it from the outside. I walked through the bottom floor, but there wasn’t a loose spot to take the boards off the windows. I was about to give up until my hand hit a hollow spot on the wall in the kitchen. My fingers slipped into one of the edges of the board. There was a small click that echoed through the empty house as I pried the door open. With all the strength I had in me, I was able to move the hidden door far enough for me to squeeze through.

There were a set of stairs that took me into a basement, but I wasn't sure why it was placed out of sight. The walls were concrete and lined with boxes. There was nothing else in the room, just like all the others it had been stripped bare. I saw scuff marks and dried blood covering the floor. There was a partial bloody footprint on the floor that walked toward the stairs. I felt a shiver run up my spine as I asked myself the one question I didn’t want the answer to. What happened here?

I was starting to feel claustrophobic in the small room until I caught sight of sunlight. There was one window—it was small—but I could climb out of it if I forced myself through. I had a chance to escape, and I wasn't going to let it slip away. I propped boxes in front of the window and lifted myself to the window seal. I tried to push open the small window, but it was no use; I couldn’t open the window fully. It got stuck half-way and wouldn’t move any further. I would have to be about six years old to fit through that space.

With a heavy sigh, I closed the window and jumped down. I had to have the house put together again before Damien got home, or he’d know I was trying to escape, and I didn’t want to know if he would follow through on his threat. My lips twitched slightly at the thought, in a way I wanted him to. Who wouldn’t? He had strong features, a handsome face, and a smooth voice that would win over everyone.

He would only have to suggest it, and I would be all over him. Damien was a gentleman, while we were alone, and stunning when I met him. Even now he was mouth-wateringly handsome, but I couldn’t let it get to me. I couldn’t let him get to me, or this would turn into a plan for isolating us alone for as long as possible. I knew it would be hard because I had growing feelings for him, but I could only hope that it was lust and nothing more.

I heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires and panicked. I quickly ran back upstairs. The wooden stairs creaked loudly under my hasty footsteps. There was a loud slam as he tried to force the door open. I shrank back into the couch with each blow to the door until it slammed forcefully into the wall behind it. Damien’s feet stomped around downstairs for a few moments before I heard them travel up toward me. I grabbed a book about a dog off the table in front of me and flipped open to a random page. I read about six lines before Damien ripped the book from my hands and glared down at me. 

“What’s wrong?”

Damien’s answer was slamming a newspaper onto the table next to me. He was shaking with anger. I glanced over to see my face plastered onto the front of the paper. 

"It looks like you weren't as unwanted as I thought," Damien growled.

"What do you mean?"

"You're being looked for. Too bad they won't find you soon enough," he said as he stalked off down the stairs again.

"Why is that?"

"Because I won't let them. You're mine," he growled again as he leaned into me. I felt my heart go into overdrive as I fought the urge to latch my fingers in his jet black hair and pull his face down to mine. Luckily, he turned on a heel and stormed off before I could give into my body's temptation.

I picked up the paper to see that I was front news, 'Anna Cowles’ daughter kidnapped.' Steve Bennett was listed as a source and then a few rhetorical questions about why Anna Cowles hadn't come out of hiding to locate her daughter. Although, in small print in the lower corner of the page, I could see that my parents had put out a plea to locate me. They may not know that I was kidnapped, but they knew I was missing at least. They would find me, and then I could go home again.

I let out a heavy sigh. Could I get out of this that easily, or would I end up like the other girls? I wish I had listened to my parents; this is exactly what they had been warning me about.