She snuggles against me. “Text him in the morning. I’m so exhausted I can barely move.”
“Okay.” I stroke her hair. “And Bay, in the morning? After we call my dad and Stark, I want you to go down to the emergency department and get yourself checked out.” She stills against me. I don’t know the details, but I don’t need to. I know that monster violated her. Again. It’s written all over her face. And when she lifts her head to look at me, her watery eyes and the shame in her expression is all the confirmation I need. She offers me the same silent, tentative nod that I offered her just moments ago when this topic came up, before putting her head back down on my chest. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Whether it’s that she doesn’t want to talk about it at all or that she doesn’t want to talk about it with me, I don’t know. But it will need to be dealt with. She may be safe now, physically. But emotionally, my Baylee is anything but okay.
I continue stroking her hair while my mind begins playing out a future for us. A future where Baylee wears more than the earrings and watch I gave to her, but also a ring.
“Quiet your mind, Warren McPherson,” she says thickly as sleep begins to steal her.
I smile, letting my thumb slide along her jaw and then rest it on her pulse point. “Shhh, quiet your mouth. I’m counting the beats of your heart against me.”
She lets out a small sigh and soon breathes in a soft, rhythmic way that lulls the monsters inside me right to sleep. But there, in the darkness of that hospital room, I resolve to help Baylee fight her demons, just like she helped me fight mine.
I won’t let her exist in the darkness. I’ll bring her into the light.
With a yawn, I hug her to me and follow quickly behind.
I’ve finally found Peace again.
I wake with a start.
Cold, bitter, emptiness threatens to swallow me whole.
My warmth—my radiant, brilliant sun—has vanished and thrown me back into the darkness.
“Breakfast, Mr. McPherson?” Cathy chirps as she waltzes into the room, carrying a tray of food she and I both know I won’t eat.
I’m already climbing out of bed. “Where is she? Where the fuck is Baylee?”
Her eyes widen and she sets the tray on the table beside the bed. “Who? Are you feeling okay, Warren?
“She was here. Baylee came into my room last night. She got away from him—both of them actually—and I held her in my arms. So where the fuck is she? Call hospital security! Have them look over the security footage! We need to call Detective Stark!”
She frowns at me and then looks down at the floor. Her features quickly morph into one of shock as she bends over to pick something up. “This her shoe?”
I nod and once again the world spins.
“Sit down before you faint, Warren. I’ll call security.” She rushes out the door and I pick up my phone as I sit on the edge of the bed. I call and leave a message for Dad, telling him to hurry up with a change of clothes. Then, I phone Stark next.
“Stark,” she barks out.
I launch into a crazy man’s babble. “He took her. I think Brandon took her. She was here last night—said she got away from him. But her shoes are still here. Stark, she wouldn’t leave without her shoes. Not to mention, she wouldn’t leave me. Goddammit she’s pregnant with my baby! You have to fucking find her!”
She lets out a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. “We’re on it. I already issued an APB on Brandon’s truck after I spoke with Miss Winston last night. We’d pinpointed the location of the hotel she called from and his credit card activity matched, but when we arrived, they were both gone. I have no doubts Brandon is looking for her. Unfortunately, Baylee isn’t my only concern right now.”
I brutally grip the phone and clench my teeth. “What the fuck is your concern besides finding my goddamned fiancée?”
She huffs, clearly frustrated with my tone. “The cabin was empty. There was no body. No sign of Mr. Sharpe.”
The room spins again and I lie back against the pillows for a minute. “What do you mean there was no body? You mean to tell me that bastard could be the one who took her?”
Jesus Christ.
This can’t be fucking happening.
Again.
There’s only so much that girl can bear. And why the fuck did I not hear her leave last night? We’d both fallen asleep and I didn’t wake to her struggling or screaming. No way would she have left willingly.
Not my girl.
“His car was gone too. We’ve put out an APB on his vehicle as well. Stay put, Mr. McPherson,” she commands. “We’re on it. Find out what you can on Edgar Finn, will you? That’ll keep your mind occupied while we locate Miss Winston.”
She hangs up on me and I scrub my face in frustration.