Forget Me Not (Remember Me Series) (2 page)

Keys slid inside the lock and I covered my mouth with my hands. I wouldn’t scream, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how terrified I was. I had to be strong. Aidan would be coming for me, and I didn’t want to let him down. He would come and get me. He was a cop, a good cop and he would catch Christopher. It was childish thinking but it kept me calm, it stopped my body from overreacting. All I had to do was keep thinking positively…

The door groaned inwards and someone tall and wide was framed in the door. He moved into the room and light fell across the floor. And suddenly all the positive thinking in the world wouldn’t keep me calm anymore.

Red streaks covered the floor. Red. Brown where the red had dried into the stone. I stared down at my hands and they were covered in the sticky crimson. I could feel it across my cheek where I had lain in it. I was covered in it. Blood. It wasn’t mine. No one could lose this much and still be alive.

This time I opened my mouth and sound came out. I started to scream as I stared down at my hands. I screamed until all the air left my lungs. But I couldn’t stop myself, I gasped in a hysterical sob and just carried on screaming.

“Shut, up!” His voice was gruff and his hand rough as he side swiped me across the head. The blow knocked me back against the floor. I slammed into it and quickly tried to scramble away from what lay all around me. It was everywhere. The room looked like a slaughterhouse, and maybe that’s what it was… Maybe I’d been brought here because whatever had happened to the previous occupants would soon be happening to me.

Aidan.

His face popped into my head, his open smile, the way his hand felt in mine, the taste of his lips. If I died here like an animal I wouldn’t ever get to see him again. I wouldn’t get to tell him how much I loved him, how much he meant to me. And it felt so wrong. It was wrong. I deserved my happy ending, I deserved my prince charming. I didn’t deserve to be murdered by some psycho. I couldn’t let him do this to me…

The stranger that had hit me moved closer, his hands working the cuff on my ankle. The moment I felt it pop open he moved up over me. His breath smelled of tobacco as it fanned across my face. He grabbed me with a hand so huge it could have wrapped almost entirely around my waist.

“Pretty little thing, pity you’re so grubby.”

“Please, you have to let me go. You can’t do this to me, please…”

My pleas fell on deaf ears as he dragged me from the room and down the corridor to another stone room. This one was clean, or as clean as it could be. The sight of a metal table in the corner drew my eye. It instantly reminded me of the metal gurneys in the hospital morgue where I had done some of my training, and it filled me with terror.

Struggling I lashed out, every fibre of my being telling me that whatever was coming, I didn’t want to be a part of it. All my struggling did was make the stranger half dragging, half carrying me, laugh. He swung me up into his grip and slammed me down against the cold metal table. The shock ricocheting up through my body. I did the only thing I thought might help, feigned unconsciousness. 

He studied me carefully. I could practically see the cogs turning inside his head as I watched him from beneath lowered lashes. He picked up one of the leather straps that hung down from the metal gurney and continued to watch me. I didn’t give anything away. Instead, I lay there, perfectly still as my heart tried to hammer its way out through my ribcage.

With a shrug he dropped the strap and made his way around the gurney and over to the other side of the room. I continued to lie still, listening to him work, banging metal objects around. Each time he made noise I felt my heart practically stall. All I had to do was wait my opportunity, once it came I was out of there.

He turned and made his way slowly back to where I lay. I watched on silently as he pushed the gurney across the room to where he had stood working. It was warmer there, and the heat slid inside my freezing body. But it didn’t matter, I was too terrified to feel anything nice.

His hands fumbled with the button on my trousers and I felt my entire body stiffen. I didn’t want him touching me, never mind unbuttoning my jeans. He got them open and began to work them down over my hips. I couldn’t stop myself from moving and he froze over me.

“Waking up are you? I think you’d have preferred to be unconscious for this next part.” His voice was gruff. Although he seemed to be addressing me, I could tell from the tone in his voice that it was more for his own benefit.

He peeled my trousers down, until the lower half of my stomach was revealed and then he turned away. This was my chance, I wasn’t going to wait for him to make his move on me. I rolled off the metal gurney, my body hitting the stone flags, the impact jolting through me.

“You sneaky, bitch.” He snarled at me as he turned. 

In one hand he held a metal rod, the end furthest from him was flat and held some sort of symbol or design that I couldn’t make out. But I knew what it was. He waved the brand at me as I braced myself against the metal gurney and pushed with everything I was worth. The table groaned, the wheels turning on the ground until they gained traction. I slammed the table into his body, knocking him off balance and driving him back against his work station.

I screamed as his back hit the work station, the brand dropping from his hand as he scrambled to push the gurney away and escape from whatever he had fallen on. I didn’t hang around, I didn’t have time to see what was causing him to scream like a banshee. Instead, I ran. I dashed out through the door, running blindly. All I knew was that I needed to escape, I needed to get out of there before my captors had the chance to raise the alarm. I had to get back to Aidan and I wouldn’t stop running until I’d achieved my goals.

CHAPTER THREE

Aidan

The alarm clock beside the bed bleeped. Untucking one arm from beneath my body I did my best to slam the life from it. All I wanted was for the sound to stop. My hand found nothing but air and I reached further, my body going over the edge of the bed as I tumbled down onto the floor.

I landed with a crunch, the first whiskey bottle I’d emptied down my throat the night before breaking underneath me. The second bottle rolled after me, spilling the rest of its contents down across my chest.

“Shit.” 

The word came out in a hiss of breath as I grabbed the bottle and turned it right way up. The amber liquid inside was the only thing that helped me forget, the only thing that helped me sleep, I couldn’t afford to waste it.

The glass from the broken bottle sliced into my arm and side as I pushed myself up from the floor. The pain giving me a fleeting moment of relief, something else to focus on besides the constant ache that existed within my chest and gut. I felt like someone who’d suffered a shot gun blast at close range. Without Bella there was nothing left of me, nothing worthwhile anyway. I was a husk, my insides scooped out with a dull blade the moment Christopher had taken her.

I stood and the room swam around me. It was like standing on the deck of a small boat, each wave making me unstable. My eyes sought out the damage on my arm and side, a small piece of glass still sat in the wound just below my chest and yet, I didn’t feel it. Blood dripped slowly onto the floor and I let it, none of it mattered. I tugged the piece of glass from the wound and sucked in a long gulp of whiskey. It burned all the way down my throat and settled in my chest.

Heading for the bathroom I leaned over the sink and stared at my reflection in the broken mirror. It was easier to stare at a broken reflection of myself, it’s what I was now anyway. Broken. Christopher had known exactly what he was doing when he took her. He’d known what it would do to me. Things would have been easier if he’d just shot me when he had the chance. Death would have been a blessing… Anything would have been better than this hell.

My brain took a type of sick enjoyment from throwing up all the possible scenarios, all the things Christopher could be doing to Bella. It was a way to punish myself. All the things I couldn’t save her from. All the things I’d failed to keep her safe from. My stomach rejected the whiskey as I imagined him touching her, imagined him holding her as he… I vomited, over and over until there was nothing left inside me, nothing but the hollow feeling.

I dropped the bottle and stumbled from the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Collapsing onto the bed I scooped up the photo-album I’d found in Bella’s apartment. Pictures of her smiling and happy, pictures of her on holiday, pictures of her hugging her parents, pictures of her grinning with her friends… All of it gone. She was gone.

Tears trailed down my face and I scrubbed them away with my hands. What good was crying? I didn’t have the right to cry for her, I was the reason she was gone. I was the problem.

The cell phone on the bedside locker started to buzz and I lunged for it. Answering the call I pressed it to my ear.

“Bella?”

Every time the phone rang I had the same reaction. Always hoping, wishing it was her.

“Where the hell are you? You asked to be kept in the loop on this investigation, Crantree. How do you expect that to happen if you don’t even bother to turn up when the results from the crime scene coordinators are in?”

Detective Arnolds voice was filled with irritation.

“I’m sorry, I forgot… I’ll be right there.”

“Look, Aidan, I know you’re getting it hard. If you need some time no one will think any less of you because of it.”

“I don’t need any time, I told you that already. I’m just running a little late, that’s all. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up, pressing the cell phone against my forehead. How could I have forgotten? I’d known the results were coming in and they were important. So far everything else had proven itself to be a dead end. The evidence gathered from Bella’s abduction was the only thing I had left. The last thin shred of hope I had left of finding her.

Dropping the phone onto the covers I headed straight for the shower. I turned the dial until the water ran cold and then I stepped beneath it. The icy spray stole my breath and had me gasping for air until my body slowly adjusted. But it was the best way to wake up. I needed to look alert, Arnolds wanted me gone. None of them had exactly approved of me dating a witness… They’d all taken Hunter’s view on it, you didn’t mix business with pleasure, especially not cop business.

But it was more than just looking alert. I wanted, needed to be alert for whatever clues the techs would come up with. I knew this case better than anyone and I stood the best chance of finding Bella. I’d already let her down, but I wouldn’t let her down now. I would find her. No matter what it took, I would get her back.

The small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention as I entered the station. The odd stares, and knowing looks, the whispered words that spoke of my disgrace made me feel like a circus act. Some of the other detectives believed that Hunter was dead because of me, because I couldn’t keep it in my pants… That somehow Bella was even more connected to Christopher than she had been. The didn’t seem to want to believe that I was the reason he knew about her existence at all… That it really was just an unfortunate series of events.

An unfortunate series of events. What the hell did that mean anyway?

“Crantree, quit your dawdling and get your ass in here.” Arnolds voice boomed out through the office.

I spotted him, standing at the door to the conference room and I immediately headed in his direction. He was well respected throughout the precinct, he’d served his time and proven himself to be one tough son-of-a-bitch. He’d been here longer than anyone else and I knew my sudden rise through the ranks hadn’t sat too well with him. He was a firm believer in rewarding those who were here longest. Solving a few high profile cases didn’t rank high in his estimation. And neither did I.

“Sorry, I’m late…” 

He didn’t give me a chance to finish my sentence. I watched as he wrinkled his nose. He peered at me, his eyes narrowing as he took in my blood-shot eyes, and unshaven face.

“Are you drunk?”

“What sort of a question is that?” I asked, anger beginning to spread through my body. If I’d been honest with myself I’d have realised that I was looking for a fight. That I was looking for a way to expel some of the nervous energy caused by my guilt. But squaring up to Arnolds was not the way to go.

“It’s a direct question, Crantree. You expect me to allow you access to evidence when you’re drunk? You couldn’t even be bothered to have a shave this morning. And what is that?”

He pointed to my side and I glance down, the blue shirt I wore had a spreading red stain on it. It was small but it was noticeable, and Arnolds had noticed it. I’d bandaged up the cut from the glass, after the shower, clearly I hadn’t done a good enough job.

“It’s nothing. Look, I’m sorry I was late but I really need to know what they found out. I need to know what is being done to find her.”

“I’m afraid, Aidan, I can’t share that with you. Not when you’re like this. What happened to you man? You used to be a good cop and now look at you? You’re a mess…”

“Matthew, please. Please, just tell me.” I lowered my voice. “I’m begging you.”

“Aidan, get a grip on yourself. You know how this works, I was doing you a favour in the first place. But I won’t get dragged down with you. Your behaviour has been less than desirable.”

“I love her and I’m the reason she’s gone. I need to set things straight, I need to find her…”

He cut me off, lifting his free hand as though to silence me, I could tell from the expression he wore that he had no intention of giving me anything. He had probably just dragged me down here so he could humiliate me some more. So he could show everyone what a mess I was, how I didn’t deserve to be a cop.

“Go home, Aidan, and don’t think about coming back until you get over all of this nonsense. You’re a cop for God’s sake, you can’t behave like this. Especially after what happened to Hunter…”