Five Read online

  Five

  Jane Blythe

  Copyright © 2018 Jane Blythe

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Bear Spots Publications

  Melbourne Australia

  [email protected]

  Paperback

  ISBN: 0-9945380-7-3

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9945380-7-9

  Cover designed by QDesigns

  I’d like to thank everyone who played a part in bringing this story to life. Particularly my mom who is always there to share her thoughts and opinions with me. My awesome cover designer, Amy, who whips up covers for me so quickly and who patiently makes every change I ask for, and there are usually lots of them! And my lovely editor Mitzi Carroll, and proofreader Marisa Nichols, for all their encouragement and for all the hard work they put into polishing my work.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  PROLOGUE

  FIVE YEARS EARLIER

  11:34 A.M.

  Eliza Donnan walked down the street toward her house. The eighteen-year-old college freshman’s mind had already switched from her schoolwork to what she would be doing this afternoon.

  She hadn’t seen her boyfriend, George, in almost four days. He’d gone home to visit his family because his grandfather had been in a car accident. After she ate lunch, she’d call him so they could catch up; she hated being away from him for long. They’d been dating for almost a year, and Eliza was sure that he was her one true love.

  She slowed down to let a car back out of a driveway and noticed a man next to a car at the side of the road. The hood was up, and the man seemed to be examining the engine.

  He looked up and saw her watching him. “Excuse me, miss, do you happen to have a cell phone on you? The battery’s died on mine.” He gave her a warm smile. He had amazing bright blue eyes that stood out in contrast to his pale skin and curly, black hair.

  Looking nervously up and down the street, there was no one else around. Eliza knew better than to walk up to a stranger. She’d been taught at a young age, as all children were, never to talk to strangers. She knew the dangers. She knew that, as a young woman, she was particularly vulnerable. This man could be a robber or a rapist or a murderer. He didn’t look evil or psychotic, but that didn’t mean anything. Looks could be deceiving.

  Taking a tentative step toward the man, she glanced cautiously inside the car where she saw a tiny baby asleep in the back, and a little girl of about four sitting in a car seat, twirling her finger around the end of one of her pigtails.

  Put at ease by the sight of the small children, she walked the rest of the way toward the car. Obviously, someone had seen enough in this man to marry him and have two children with him. A woman would know if her husband and the father of her children was some sort of psychopath.

  She fished around in her bag for her phone, then finally finding it, she held it out to him. “Here you go.”

  The man gave her another warm smile. “Thanks. They always seem to die just when you need them.”

  He reached out to take the phone and introduced himself. “I’m Malachi, and that’s Bethany.” He pointed to the four-year-old, then indicated the infant, “And that’s Hayley.”

  “I’m Eliza; they’re cute.” Eliza adored children and was an early childhood education major at college.

  “Nice to meet you, Eliza. And thanks, they are cute, except when they wake you up in the middle of the night,” he joked, laughing.

  Eliza smiled, then stood back to give him some privacy as he made his phone call. She turned back around when he was finished.

  “Thanks. You live around here?” Malachi asked as he handed her the phone.

  “Yeah, just down there a little way.” Eliza pointed down the street toward her house.

  Too late she noticed the cloth coming toward her.

  She struggled in vain as Malachi held it firmly to her mouth. Her limbs began to tingle, her head began to swim, her vision blurred, and her knees buckled.

  Malachi caught her as she slumped forward. Her phone dropped from her hand and shattered on the ground. She was vaguely aware of him lifting her into his arms and placing her inside the car before everything went black.

  * * * * *

  Eliza’s head was aching and she felt as though she were spinning. Spinning and spinning and spinning. The sensation was making her horribly nauseous.

  With sheer force of will, she attempted to focus.

  It felt like she was in a car, but that couldn’t be right. She had been on her way home from college and … she kept drawing a blank.

  She forced herself to concentrate.

  This was important. She could feel it.

  Someone was crying somewhere nearby.

  Who? Who would be crying?

  Then her memories came back in a sudden rush that left her feeling more nauseous than before.

  That man, Malachi, had drugged her and put her in his car.

  Eliza forced her eyes open and saw that she was indeed in a car. Her head rested against the window. The baby, Hayley she thought Malachi had said her name was, was asleep in a baby seat next to her, and the other little girl, Bethany, was crying quietly in a car seat next to the other window.

  This couldn’t really be happening. Could it?

  Had she really just been kidnapped?

  Fighting to keep calm, Eliza took several deep breaths. If she was going to somehow get herself out of this, then she was going to have to keep a straight head.

  Casting a careful glance at Malachi, it seemed like he was preoccupied with driving wherever it was he was going, wherever he was taking her. Lifting her hand cautiously, she moved it slowly toward the door handle. The car didn’t seem to be going too fast, and Eliza thought that if she opened the door she should be able to jump and then make a run for it.

  Slipping her other hand to unclick her seat belt, she released it as slowly and as quietly as she could. Stealing another glance at Malachi, he didn't seem to be aware of what she was doing. Curling her fingers slowly around the door handle, she waited until they slowed to turn a corner, then pulled the handle.

  She bumped against it when it didn't open.

  “Child lock is on.”

  Looking up, she saw Malachi’s reflection smiling at her in the rear-vision mirror. Terrified by his eerie calm, Eliza found herself rapidly losing control of her emotions and giving in to the terror that threatened to engulf her.

  “Where are you taking me?” she screamed, hearing the hysteria in her own voice.

  “Quiet, please; you’ll wake the baby,” he reprimanded as though he were admonishing a disobedient child.

  Anger began to trickle in through her fear. “You can’t just drug me and drag me off somewhere.”

  “I can, and I did.”

  Fueled more by anger than common sense, she ripped her seat belt away and lunged forward, grabbing at Malachi�
�s face. If she could get him to crash the car, she would have a good chance of getting away. The two little girls were safely strapped into their car seats, so they should be safe enough. All she had to hope was that she didn’t sustain serious injuries. Still, so long as help got here quickly, she should be okay even if she were incapacitated.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Freezing mid-lunge when she saw the gun, Eliza slumped back into her seat, defeated. This man had covered everything. He wasn't going to let her go. “What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.

  Malachi ignored her and returned his attention to the road. Bethany was still crying, so she reached over the baby and put her hand on the little girl’s shoulder and squeezed gently. The child immediately grabbed onto her hand, clinging tightly. Terrified blue eyes looked back at her, and Eliza got the uneasy feeling that the little girl had suffered the same fate that she herself had.

  Had Malachi kidnapped Bethany, too?

  What about the baby?

  His? Or another victim?

  Attempting to give the child a reassuring smile, she knew it did little to ease the girl’s terror. Nor did it do anything to relieve her own. The tears that she’d been holding back began to fall, sliding slowly down her cheeks. Eliza laid her head against the window and sobbed.

  NOVEMBER 3rd

  9:00 P.M.

  9:04 P.M.

  “Just hold on, honey, we won't be long,” Ryan Xander promised his wife.

  Sofia had been sick with the flu for the last week. And, of course, she’d been overdoing things. Between bouts of vomiting, she had tended to their two young children. Ignoring headaches and chills and coughs, she had cooked meals, done laundry, driven their five-year-old daughter to school, and basically just pushed herself too far. He had tried to step in, insist that she rest, but every time he turned his back, she was out of bed doing something.

  Then, ten minutes ago, she had collapsed.

  He had been in the kitchen having dinner with his older brother Jack and Jack’s wife Laura, when his wife had come in to get a glass of water. Ryan had just been reprimanding her for getting out of bed to get it herself instead of calling for him when she had fainted.

  Ryan had scooped her up and bundled her into the car, ignoring her protests that she was fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital. Jack had offered to drive them, so Ryan was in the back seat with Sofia lying beside him, her head in his lap.

  “I'm cold.” Sofia was shivering.

  “I know, honey.” Ryan wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “You have a fever; you’re getting chills. We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

  Sofia gave a half nod and let her eyes flicker closed again. Ryan stroked her hair and cast a glance at his sister-in-law. He was concerned about Sofia, but he didn’t think it was anything too serious—dehydration if he had to guess. She’d been too nauseous to eat or drink much the last few days. Adding the vomiting to that, it was a fair guess.

  Laura, on the other hand, was a completely different story.

  His sister-in-law suffered from severe agoraphobia as a result of a violent attack many years ago. She had improved the last few years. She could go outside now, but she usually needed time to prepare herself, and she didn’t do well with large groups of people. Coming with them to the hospital was probably not a good idea.

  This was not a planned outing, and Laura was already looking stressed. Her eyes were clenched shut, her head rested against the closed window, and she was breathing too quickly.

  “Jack, maybe we should drop Laura off at your place,” he said softly. “She’s not looking so great.”

  “I'm fine,” Laura said through clenched teeth.

  She sounded anything but. Laura was more like his sister than his sister-in-law. Ryan and Jack had known her their entire lives. They’d grown up together; her family had lived across the street from them. They’d played together, gone to school together, and Jack and Laura had even dated all through high school, while he had had a major crush on her. Back then, Laura had been vibrant and adventurous and full of life—until an attack that had almost killed her had completely changed her.

  “I’ll drop you guys off at the hospital, take Laura home, then come back.” Jack’s gaze kept darting from the road to his wife.

  “No.” Laura forced her eyes open. “I can do this. I want to do this.”

  Jack took a hand off the wheel and took hold of one of Laura’s. “Honey,” he began.

  “No, Jack. No honey, and no being bossy and ordering me around. I'm going.” Laura turned her head back to the window and closed her eyes once more.

  “I'm not bossy,” Jack muttered with a frown and Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. His big brother was well known for his bossy attitude.

  “Yeah, you are, honey.” Laura smiled.

  “She’s right, Jack, you are, and you know you are,” Ryan agreed cheerfully, pleased that Laura had at least been momentarily distracted.

  Sofia groaned. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

  Jack glanced in the rear-vision mirror. “You want me to pull over?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” Sofia struggled to sit up.

  Jack immediately parked the car at the side of the road, and Ryan helped Sofia out. She dropped to her knees and retched. Her stomach was empty, so nothing came up but a little liquid. He knelt beside her, holding her hair back from her face and rubbing her back.

  “All done?” he asked, once her shoulders stopped heaving.

  Sofia nodded, her whole body trembling. Ryan gathered her up and climbed back into the car. This time he set his wife in his lap, hoping he could help to keep her warm until they got to the hospital.

  “Almost there,” Jack announced. The shiver that wracked through Laura at Jack’s words was bigger than the ones that kept rippling through Sofia.

  “You can stay in the car, angel.” Jack took Laura’s hand again. “You don’t have to come in.”

  “I do have to. I do. I do,” Laura murmured, sounding like she was trying to convince herself as much as them.

  “Honey, you really don’t.” Jack was looking concerned. “If you can't handle it, that’s totally fine, no one is—”

  “Stop, Jack, stop. I can't listen to you right now.” Laura pressed her hands to her ears.

  Jack frowned, but chewed on his lip to refrain from saying more. A couple of minutes later, they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

  “Here we are.” Ryan opened the door and climbed out, balancing Sofia in his arms. “I got you, honey,” he assured his wife as her eyes flickered open.

  “It’s all right, Laura, I'm right here,” Jack was saying as he helped Laura from the car, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her.

  Leaving Jack to deal with Laura, Ryan quickly carried Sofia into the emergency room and hoped they wouldn’t have to wait long to see a doctor.

  * * * * *

  9:17 P.M.

  “Come on, angel, let me take you home.” Her husband was crouched in front of the chair he’d sat her in when they'd come inside the hospital. His concern for her was evident in his face. His blue eyes were serious and anxiety was practically rolling off him in waves.

  “No, I'm fine,” Laura Xander protested, even though she knew she wasn't. When was she going to get over this? When was this paralyzing fear of being out in public going to go away? It had been fifteen years since her assault, fourteen since she locked herself away in her apartment, and four since Jack had come back into her life.

  That should be enough.

  She should be over it by now.

  Well, that wasn't quite true. Laura knew she could never get over what she’d been through, but surely things should have improved to the point where she could support her sister-in-law at the hospital without winding up an emotional wreck.

  Sometimes she got so frustrated with herself that her recovery had been so slow. Everyone had been extremely patient with her. Jack, his entire family, her family. Their
patience was part of the problem. They treated her with kid gloves. Always so careful never to push her too far or upset her too much. They didn’t treat her like she was a real person. They treated her like she was a victim. And that made her feel like a victim.

  “Baby, you're not fine.” Jack rested his forearms on her thighs and leaned in close to kiss her forehead.

  Laura just looked at him. She knew helplessness was shining from her eyes and she so hated to feel helpless.

  Jack saw the helplessness there and immediately picked her up. “I'm taking you home,” he announced.

  For a moment, Laura just sank down into her husband’s arms, wanting desperately to be back in their home, with their eighteen-month-old son, Zach. But then she roused herself. Hiding was not the answer. She knew that.

  “Put me down, Jack.” She pushed at him.

  Reluctantly, he let her feet slide down to the ground but kept an arm around her waist. “You don’t have anything to prove, Laura,” he told her seriously.

  Maybe. But she felt like she did. “Go and check on Sofia. I’ll be fine; I just need to walk.” Laura always felt better when she was moving.

  Jack was unconvinced. “Laura,” his voice held a hint of warning mixed with a heavy dose of concern.

  “Jack!” she shot back. She hated when her husband got all bossy.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll go check on Sofia, you walk, only don’t go far and don’t go outside on your own.”

  Laura rolled her eyes. Her husband was a protector, which sometimes thrust them into a destructive cycle. The more Jack acted like her guard dog instead of her husband, the more helpless it made her feel. And the more helpless she felt, the more protective Jack got, and so on and so on in a never-ending circle.

  She understood his protectiveness. They had been best friends their whole lives, dated in high school until he cheated on her, then when she was in college, she’d been abducted and held captive for four days. Jack, being who he was, blamed himself, as ridiculous as that is.