Lucas: The Hunter Brothers Series (36 page)

CHAPTER 28

I
hadn’t seen Lucas for two days. He’d been in New York, due back this morning
and my body was aching for him as it always did. He knew every inch of my
flesh, working it expertly and the absence manifested itself like a physical
ache.

The
last two weeks had been incredible. Sexually we were closer than we’d ever
been, intensifying his orders and commands and always one step ahead of me. He
was teaching me to embrace fear, surge out of my comfort zone and I knew it
wasn’t just about my behaviour as a sub. The compartments of our lives were
colliding, the rules were changing, but the one thing I still hadn’t
capitulated on was Dexter.

It
was infuriating him and I knew it. When he pushed, which he often did, I found
myself gently reminding him I needed space. Lucas didn’t do space. He did in
charge, he did control and he did dominance.

I
reached for my ringing phone seeing Chas’s name on the caller display. I
assumed she wanted an update on the pitch we were preparing for our
aristocratic clients. It was the most audacious event I’d planned to date; a garden
party with a budget of a hundred grand. I’d almost fallen off my chair when
they’d told me. Who the hell spent that much money on a party? Lucas hadn’t
even seemed surprised, which only served to reinforce the huge economic gap
between the circles that we moved in.

 
“Hey, Chas,” I smiled brightly, my face
lighting up as Lucas walked into the office, blowing him a silent kiss as he
realised I was on the phone.

“Jess,”
she said and I felt instantly sick with the tone in her voice. It was the same
tone I heard when she told me Jake had died, an unmistakeable mix of fear, hurt
and pain as the colour slowly drained from my face and my heart slowed in my
chest.

“I
don’t know how to tell you this. There’s no easy way, so I’m just going to have
to say it, Sis. Dex has gone missing. I was a few minutes late to pick him up
and he’s not here. The supply teacher said he went home with his Granddad. I’m
so sorry. We’ve called the police,” she said as my heart stopped beating
altogether, my phone crashing to the floor as it slid from my hand. I stared at
Lucas as my world stopped spinning, mute and paralysed, crippled by fear.

“What
is it? Jess, what is it?” he shouted, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me
hard, but I couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe, clutching my chest and crouching
on the floor as he picked up the phone.

“Hello,
who is that?” he asked, listening intently as he knelt before me, taking my
head in his hands as he stared at my ashen features, choking sobs heaving
through me. I needed to get a grip, needed to get to school, speak to the
police, had to find Dex; a thousand thoughts sweeping through my brain at the
speed of light. I stood, grabbing my bag and running for the door as Lucas
caught up with me, sliding his hand firmly around my waist.

We
raced down the stairs and he all but held me up straight as I forced my legs
forward under the pain of the crushing thoughts invading my brain. He put me in
the passenger seat of his car, fastening my belt, starting the engine as he
grabbed his phone.

 
He pulled something up on the screen, looking
closely and screeching the car around in an illegal U-turn, ignoring the
blaring horns of the traffic as I stared across at him.

I
still hadn’t spoken.

I
was screaming internally, shaking and panting, trying to grasp the breaths that
stuck in my strangled chest, but I had to find my voice; had to tell him.

 
“School is that way, we need to go that way,”
I tried to shout, my voice cracking as I pointed hysterically in the other
direction and he dialled a number on the car telephone system.

He
was ignoring me. Why the hell was he ignoring me? Sheer panic gripped my entire
being as I stared at Lucas, silent tears springing to my eyes as emotion
overwhelmed me and once again I couldn’t breathe.

 
“Chas, tell the police to meet us at Hyde
Park. Whoever has got him has taken him there, I’ve traced his phone,” he said,
ending the call I stared at him in shock.

“What
are you doing? Lucas, he hasn’t got a phone,” I screamed. “We need to get to
school. They’ll want a description. Oh Jesus, who’s taken him? Why have they
taken him?” I shouted, trembling with terror, my worst nightmare realised.
“Turn the car around, Lucas, please. He doesn’t have a phone,” I screamed again
as he fixed a serious gaze on me.

“He
has a phone. He wanted to call me, so I bought him one and asked him not to
tell you because I didn’t think you’d like it. You can say what the fuck you
like about that later, but right now, Jessica, I am glad I did. It has a GPS
tracker app which I put on for him in case he lost it. He keeps it in a secret
pocket of his school bag which at this minute is in Hyde Park, so that’s where
we’re going,” he said firmly as a million emotions raced through my brain.

 
I was angry, delighted, furious and hopeful,
not knowing what to think or feel and just praying that we weren’t too late.
I’d read about these things, seen it on the news; every time my heart going out
to the parents involved but never, never did I think it would happen to me.

“Could
it actually be his Granddad?” Lucas asked as I shook my head.

“I
don’t think he even knows about Dexter,” I said, wondering for the first time if
it might be. Perhaps that would be better, preferable to some stranger
snatching him for God knows what. If it was him, he wouldn’t want to hurt him,
at least I didn’t think so, as the worst scenarios forced their way into my
brain. I tried with every ounce of strength I had to push them away. I couldn’t
dwell on those things, only Dex, and I needed to get to him.

“Hurry,
Lucas,” I screamed as he pulled the car alongside the huge gateway, all but
abandoning it as we got out and ran.

He
was faster than me, looking around as his determined feet tore up the pathway
and I was glad. Wherever he was, I had a better chance of finding him with
Lucas. I heard the sirens of the police cars, the black uniformed officers
splitting up and covering the vast area of the park, searching for Dexter. It
was surreal, like a scene from a film. I forced the twisted visions that pelted
my brain with torturous regularity, trying to be positive as I ran and scoured,
praying that I wouldn’t find him laying somewhere, hurt, damaged or worse. Oh
Jesus Christ.

“Dex”
I screamed at the top of my lungs, crying and panting, falling to my knees,
scraping my shins and forcing myself up as the blood trickled in soft rivulets
down my legs. “Dex,” I shouted, the cries of the police mirroring my words as
they echoed around the park.

As
I turned the corner I saw them and my heart stuck in my throat. Tears were streaming
down my face, emotion overwhelming me; ecstasy and agony colliding as I ran
towards them, scooping Dexter into my arms. I kissed him repeatedly until he
pushed me away, laughing and shouting “Stop it, Mummy,” oblivious to the drama
that was unfolding around him.

I
crouched down, pulling his face into my hands. “Are you okay, are you okay?” I
asked over and over again as he smiled and nodded, relief flooding through me
like a huge tsunami as I glanced across to the small ashen man in the grey suit
who was watching us silently.

“I’m
sorry, Jessica, I didn’t think, I just...” he said, his voice trailing off as
bile rose in my throat, alongside the anger and I couldn’t hold back. I
launched at him, slamming my fists against his chest as the police descended,
grabbing his arms as Lucas pulled me away.

“What
the hell did you think you were doing?” I screamed as he stared at me, his dark
circled eyes filled with sorrow.

“I
didn’t think. I just wanted to see him, Jess. I never meant to take him, I
swear. I just wanted to get to know the boy.” I launched at him again, pulled
back by the strong arms of Lucas who was holding me tight and trying to calm
me.

“Are
you drunk?” I screamed as if it were the only explanation. I hadn’t seen him
for a long time and the years of alcohol abuse had taken their toll on his old
rugged features.

He
said nothing as the police read him his rights before speaking quietly to Lucas,
ushering him quickly through the park towards the flashing blue lights, before
I could attack him again.

“Bye,
Granddad,” Dex shouted as though it were the most natural thing in the world. I
stared at him in mute shock, ignoring the crowd of curious bystanders who had
gathered to witness our drama.

 
“Oh, Dex,” I cried, grabbing him again as
Lucas held us both and Chas came running towards me, her face streaked in
mascara and her expression plagued with shame and guilt.

“I’m
so sorry,” she wept as I collapsed on the ground, sobbing hysterically, the
pain and the anger, the elation and the fear combined in an overwhelming force
as I let it all out. She crouched beside me, holding me tight. “It was a few minutes,
Jess, that’s all. God, I’m so sorry,” she said and I knew it wasn’t her fault,
not really. I was just too raw, too hurt, too gripped by the fear of what could
have been. At this moment, I had no forgiveness.

“Aunty
Chas,” Dex grinned, running over to her and hugging her hard, his little voice
breaking through the agonising torment gripping my body and brain. Right now he
was all that mattered, the only thing that counted and we’d found him; safe and
well and utterly unaffected by the events of the day. The police would want to
question him, me, all of us, but not now as I stood silently, taking my boy’s
little hand in mine and walking back to the car.

“Why
the hell has he turned up after all this time?” Chas asked, looking back at me
from the front seat, wiping away the angry black stains from her face as I
shook my head mutely, still in shock.

 
“I don’t know,” was all I could manage.

“You
need to sue the school, Jess. You sign forms and they are not allowed to
release your child to anyone who isn’t approved by the parent,” she said as
Lucas picked up the phone.

“Who
are you dialling?” she asked.

“The
headmistress,” he said firmly, the stark ringing echoing through the
loudspeaker system. She didn’t want to speak to Lucas, only to me, but his voice
was poison, threatening legal action and to close the place down; demanding
answers about why Dex had been allowed to leave with an unapproved individual. He
let them know, in no uncertain terms, the results of their actions, and just
how painfully catastrophic they could have been.

“It
was a supply teacher, Mr Hunter. She didn’t know. The man seemed genuine and
plausible. Dexter had no hesitation, and she just assumed that he was who
Dexter said he was.” I didn’t believe that for one second.

“Dex,
I told you about not going off with strangers, why the hell did you do it?” I
asked as he looked at the floor, his bottom lip quivering as I gripped him to
me tightly.

“Am
I in trouble?” he asked, looking up at me, eyes wet with tears as I shook my
head violently.

 
“No, baby, you’re not in trouble,” I said, kissing
him again. “I just want to know why you left with him. You’re usually so
sensible about strangers,” I said as he dug into his bag, pulling out a
battered old photograph. My heart stopped in my chest, staring into the
beautiful eyes of my lost first love as the tears began to fall again.

“He
gave me this, Mummy, and said he wanted to tell me about Daddy,” Dex said,
smiling up at me as I nodded. He’d recognised the photo and seen a friend, not
an enemy. He was intrigued by his father, wanted to know every story there was
about him, so he could build the picture of the parent he didn’t have in his
mind. The promise of that must have been such a pull, far more than the
abstract fear of some stranger abducting him. I held him tightly.

“What
did he say to you?” I asked quietly. Lucas’s voice boomed through the car as he
continued his conversation with the headmistress and Dexter smiled at me.

“He
said daddy liked the park, so I asked if I could go. He bought me an ice-cream
and told me that daddy liked to ride his bike in the park near where you used
to live. He said he loved fixing bikes up and brought old ones home. He said he
used to shout at daddy for leaving old bike parts on the kitchen table,” Dex laughed,
but I couldn’t. He used to shout alright, and knock lumps out of him for it.
For half of his childhood Jake was bruised from his father’s abuse as bile rose
in my throat, my stomach lurching when I thought again about what could have
happened to my beautiful boy.

“He
said he wishes he hadn’t shouted now, but sometimes he had too much beer and it
made him bad. He doesn’t drink beer now, Mummy,” he said as I sighed, shaking
my head. Drunk or not, the alcohol must have damaged his brain because abducting
a child was outrageous and cruel, thoughtless and evil, not to mention
downright illegal.

“Can
I see Granddad again, Mummy?” he asked as my heart stopped in my throat. My son
was so desperate for family that he wanted to know Jakes father. It was almost
too awful to comprehend.