Now Open Your Eyes (Stay With Me series Book 3) Page 3

  I never took Ethan to be so meticulous—a clean freak. But then again, I never really knew the man at all.

  Once Ethan cleaned the kitchen area to perfection, he grabbed me by the arm and lifted me out of the chair. I walked in front of him down the stairs and back to the bedroom. Again, my ankles were bound, and I was left alone.

  Hours passed, and the night only grew colder and crueler.

  Without Ollie, my heart felt like December in the middle of spring.

  A tear ran down my cheek, and it was warm and welcoming.

  At some point, I must have fallen asleep because the next time my eyes opened, Ethan was lying next to me with a damp cloth to my forehead as he hushed melodically. My body trembled inside the only warmth of the hoodie, refusing to use him as a security blanket like I once did. Ethan would be warm, but I’d rather freeze.

  “I’m worried about you, man. They’ll find her. Just come home,” Travis rambled on for, what it seemed like, the hundredth time into the mobile he had given me earlier. He’d mentioned I would need it for work.

  I didn’t need a fucking phone.

  I needed Mia and not this bloody picture, the polaroid picture I’d been holding in my jittery hands. The first picture we’d ever taken together.

  Her. I need her—all of her.

  “I’m okay,” I lied. “I’ll ring you in the morning with an update.” Another lie. And there was nothing to slam shut with the stupid mobile to ease my frustration. So, I pressed my finger into the red button harder than what was necessary before throwing it over the bed in the motel room.

  I refused to walk into our home without her. I’d imagined the day we’d walk through the front door of our home so many times, and it wouldn’t be the same if she weren’t by my side.

  I couldn’t sit still, repeatedly pacing the motel room with a rented car waiting in the car park. Every precious second was wasted without looking for her, and though it was almost midnight, I still shoved a hoodie over my head, swiped the keys off the dresser, and walked out the door without a destination or solid clue as to where she could be.

  The drive was pointless, but my mind couldn’t stop replaying every interaction from today that lead me here: the smile Mia had on her face after waking, saying she was ready for a lifetime of mornings and coffee in bed. The lovemaking shortly after had been proof she couldn’t imagine anything different than the two of us. Mia wasn’t a liar. Her head may play tricks on her, but her eyes and heart were honest. She’d promised to meet me. She wouldn’t have left me. Something was wrong.

  After she didn’t show, I’d spent hours checking every room, looking over every floor, talking with Jake, Tyler, questioning every fucking person inside the walls of Dolor. Lynch had been pre-occupied with a suicide in a classroom, and a part of me believed Mia’s disappearance and the suicide all happening on the same day wasn’t a coincidence.

  It had been fifteen hours since I’d seen her, ten hours since anyone had seen her.

  Where are you, love?

  I’d driven through the black night around the surrounding towns of Guildford before stopping the car on the side of the road. One second, I was sitting inside the vehicle, the next, I was standing over the wet pavement, unable to breathe. Headlights rushed past, people trying to get home, but I was lost without Mia, the only home I’d ever known. Each car that flew by couldn’t see I was standing here suffocating, and I kicked the tire before crumbling to the ground with my back against the wet vehicle. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do,” I shouted to no one. Zeke wasn’t here to shove the broken pieces back at me.

  It took less than five minutes to realize sitting out here in the cold rain wasn’t going to get me closer to her, and less than five minutes to know I couldn’t do this on my own.

  I got back into the car and dialed Jinx, the security guard from Dolor, who became a good mate over the two-year sentence. He answered on the third ring, music blaring in the background with a fog of conversation. “Who’s this?”

  “Masters. I need a favor.”

  “Whoa, Oliver Masters. I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon.”

  “I need Lynch’s address.” There was no time for chit chat. I’d seen him earlier at Dolor, and we’d exchanged numbers. For hours, he’d helped me turn Dolor upside down. How was the entire world able to move on with their lives knowing Mia was missing? How was he at a fucking party at this time?

  “Yeah, okay. Been there once to deliver something. Foxenden Court off Chertsey. Flat 8. Don’t tell him I—”

  I hung up and steered back onto the road, making my next left over the slick street.

  Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the red brick building and pushed the gear into park. Rain fell over me as I ran through the door and up the stairs, wasting no time. My body shivered from either the cold, impatience, or anger … I couldn’t tell anymore, only pounded my fist over the door of Lynch’s flat, most likely waking the entire building.

  Lynch opened the door in his plaid pajamas with a baseball bat in one hand. “Oliver,” he gritted his teeth, “It’s been a long day. I don’t have the energy for this, and how did you find my address?”

  “Your daughter is fucking missing!” I pushed my way through his door and into the flat. It was small and minimal, and I spun around as he dropped the bat beside the door frame and ran the back of his hands over his eyes. “Wake up, Lynch. I’m not leaving until I get answers.”

  “You have no business being in my home, let alone at this hour of the night,” he grumbled as he strolled over to his kitchenette and flipped on the coffee maker. “I should call the police, boy.” But his actions went against his words. Deep down, Lynch cared about Mia. And he wouldn’t call the police on me because I was the only other person who gave a damn about his daughter.

  “Please! Call them,” I challenged with my hands in the air. I’d called earlier, and they weren’t much help. But if the dean of the reformatory school called, maybe they’d see the importance of a missing girl.

  Lynch shoveled coffee grounds into his pot, mumbling incoherently to himself and ignoring my frustration. “I talked to Bruce. Mia has a history of running off, especially when things get too hard. Mia running away on release day seems to be in her character. I wouldn’t be surprised if she happened to get cozy with someone other than you, took off, and now shacking up somewhere,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his balding head, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, kid.”

  Travis said the same bloody thing, but I knew Mia. “If you’d taken the time to get to know your daughter, you’d see she isn’t like that anymore.” Mia was smart. She wouldn’t have given up so quickly at the first chance of running away. Not on me, and not on herself. Not after everything she’d been through. She had court back in the states in a week. If she didn’t show, who knows where they would send her next.

  Lynch pulled a mug from the cupboard and turned to face me. “I knew her mother, and her mother ran off back to Pennsylvania without so much as an explanation. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Mia is just like her. She may have my eyes, but everything else is all her mum.”

  Mia never spoke much of her mum, but this didn’t change anything. “You’re wrong about her,” I stood and leaned my elbows over the kitchen counter, separating us, “Somethings not right. I can’t put my finger on it, but something went down at your school. I can feel her. I can’t explain it, but she’s in trouble.”

  “You don’t look so good, Oliver. You look tired.”

  The wanker was deflecting.

  My jaw clenched. “I’m fine,” I gritted out.

  The coffee pot beeped, and Lynch turned away from me. “If you want my advice, go home. She’ll turn up eventually. Bruce said he’d call if he hears from her. Until then, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “So, that’s it? No missing person’s report? You don’t even care enough to notify authorities?”

  Lynch laughed, pouring himself a cup, then sprinkled in sugar. Hi
s nonchalant behavior only set every irritated nerve on fire, and he brought the mug to his mouth before saying, “You honestly believe anyone is going to take Mia seriously with her history? The authorities won’t give a missing person’s report the time of day. Go home, Oliver. If a week passes and she doesn’t show, I’ll go to the police. Until then, move on with your life. I’m sure she’s just fine. Do you have somewhere to go?”

  My heart broke for Mia and how little she was cared about by the people surrounding her. How could they not see how much darker everyone’s world was without her in it? I looked off to the side, unable to lock eyes with the man who created Mia, brought her life, when there was so much anger in mine. “Ethan Scott. Where is he?”

  “Probably home, sleeping. The same thing you should be doing at this hour.”

  Getting Scott’s address out of Lynch would be like pulling teeth. Jinx would have no problem giving me the information if he had it.

  I drove around Guildford, passed by Dolor, and by three in the morning, the car turned back into the car park of the motel. My thoughts twisted, believing my brother had, somehow, something to do with this. It had Oscar’s name written all over it.

  As I pulled into a parking space, I grabbed my mobile and looked up visiting hours for the prison. My eyes glazed over as I read the small text on the screen. An eight-day advanced notice was needed to arrange a meeting with a prisoner. Eight days was too long, but I rang High Down Prison anyway to book an appointment with Oscar. Office hours were closed, and I made a mental note to ring back at nine in the morning.

  I never planned to see Oscar again, putting him in the past and keeping him there. But Oscar had always found a way to wedge himself in my life, time and time again. He might have been able to round up a few boys to take Mia in exchange for me. He wanted something from me that I would never give up before, but if Mia was on the line, he could bloody have it. I’d give anything in exchange for her freedom, including my life.

  My phone rang, and I immediately answered with my heart in my throat.

  “Find him?” Jinx’s boom box of a voice rumbled into the mobile against the beat of the bass in the background.

  “Yeah, it was no use.” I stared at the motel room door from the car. Sleep would be impossible and a waste. “Do you know where Ethan Scott lives?”

  “Nah,” he grumbled as a girl whined beside him, vibrating my eardrums. “We don’t talk to Scott.”

  “What do you mean, ‘We don’t talk to Scott,’” I wiped the exhaustion from my eyes, “Where are you?”

  “I’ll send over the address, and you can meet me. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

  After Jinx sent the address over, the drive had only been twenty minutes before parking outside a gated property. With my arms crossed over my chest, I posted against the vehicle as music and bodies spilled from inside the house. Red cups, tea lights, and different shades of skin tones decorated the pristine lawn. Everyone was partying, laughing, and having a proper time, living life without a care in the world. But for me? My head spun, and panic surged with every passing second wasted waiting out here in the cold for his arse. I shouldn’t have come, but desperation pulled me under. If Jinx had information on Scott, I needed to know—anything that would lead me closer to Mia.

  Finally, Jinx spotted me from the large doorway with a lazy, drunken smile plastered over his face, lights bouncing off his gold teeth. He walked toward me with a girl under his arm. She was tiny against his broad build. Instantly, she made me feel uneasy with her red lipstick smeared and a cigarette between her smoke-stained fingers, forcing me into a time I’d tried so hard to forget.

  The window doesn’t close all the way, leaving a small crack where the cold slips through. It’s dark outside, and the buzz from traffic turns the city into a nightlife musical, slipping a lullaby through the window along with the chill. It drowns out O’s snoring. He gets to sleep in the bed with mum. But, Mum isn’t home yet.

  I turn the page of the book the lady with kind brown eyes gave to me from the library. She said I should choose another from the children’s section, but those bore me. The two clutched in my hands were thick, and the text on the back promised a mind-provoking change within my heart, which could possibly change the world. I wanted to be a part of that, and I’d fly through both books this week. She said I could only choose one and come back for the other, but only after I returned the first book—in the same condition as I took it. She didn’t trust me, but I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t trust a young kid with a piece of history either. Trust is earned.

  I’ll show her.

  My eyes steer from the page to the clock in the kitchen with bright yellow numbers. It’s four in the morning, and mum should be home any second now. Sometimes she’s late. Sometimes she’s early.

  I return my eyes to the book and sink under the window sill, where I’m allowed to sleep. I wanted this spot because there’s a small cushion over a bench, and it’s cozier than the floor. Sometimes, when I get really cold, I use the curtain from the window. It’s long enough to blanket around me.

  The lock slides and Mum’s giggles allow my heart rate to steady. She’s back. A man mumbles through the doorframe, saying his goodbye’s, and she drops her keys over the side table and closes the door behind her.

  She’s wearing a top which shows her belly and a small skirt. She has to be cold, which makes me feel bad, but it doesn’t seem to bother her as she kicks off her heels and stumbles toward me with a cigarette between her red lips. She pulls the cigarette away and blows out smoke before leaning over to kiss me. “You worry too much,” she reminds me when she sees I’m still awake, and my fingers reach out to touch the warm skin on her belly where the scars crawl up, but she slaps my hand away. “You like what you did to me?”

  “They’re different. Unique.”

  She calls them stretch marks, and they are my fault. She says Oscar gave her beauty, and I took it away. But I tell her she’s beautiful, they’re beautiful, even though she doesn’t agree. The stretch marks are like the lines of a book, each one a sentence telling a story. I’ve caused this, proof of my existence written over her skin. And she hated them.

  “No, Oliver. They’re ugly. You completely ruined me. I could be making more money if I hadn’t had you.”

  It should hurt me, but it doesn’t. Not anymore. It did the first few times she said it, but I’ve realized she’s in pain and uses me to release it, so I don’t respond. I’m just glad she’s home, and I take a second to remember my page number before closing the book and using it as a pillow. Mum puts her cigarette out in an ashtray over the floor, then falls beside Oscar, twisting her arms and legs around him, finding warmth.

  “You made it,” Jinx bellowed with a pat over my shoulder, pulling me from the memory. I flinched, and his expression twisted. “Come inside. You can meet my crew.”

  Laughter and conversations rang from all directions, filling the background noise and making my head spin and my palms sweat. It had been a while since I’d been around a crowd of this size. Panic doubled within me, and I couldn’t find focus. Rap music thumped, a song I’d never heard before, and the hype from the party crawled over me, pushing my boundaries. “I’m not staying.”

  “You doing alright?”

  “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

  A smile of scattered teeth stretched across Jinx’s face as my brain pounded inside my head. “Get my mate a drink,” Jinx ordered the girl. She nodded and twirled to head back inside the house.

  “Is she your girl?” I asked, leaning against the car and propping up my foot to steady myself. Too much chaos moved around me, and the anxiety within only worsened the more I noticed the little control I had at the moment, attempting small talk to distract myself.

  “Leslie? Lila, Leigh or some shit like that … No, only met her tonight.” He pulled out cigarettes and packed the box into the palm of his hand with humor in his eyes. “You looking to smash?”

  I glared at him, pu
tting no energy into responding to the ridiculous question before my gaze made the journey over the packed crowd. Smoke swirled in the air between us, and Jinx went on about something that had nothing to do with Mia or Scott.

  But I couldn’t focus on a single thing. Many heads turned to face us, looking over to where we stood, judging, plotting, or admiring, I couldn’t tell. There were too many eyes on me, and their noise was too fucking loud.

  “Oliver,” Jinx pulled me out, and I snapped my eyes forward where the girl whose name started with an L looked up at me with a cup in hand. Cheap vodka on ice. The burn hit the back of my throat as I drank it in one large gulp to drown out the noise around me. Setting the plastic cup on the hood of the car, I looked back over at Jinx who wore a pleasing grin. “You okay?” he asked, and I nodded in reflex. “Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you all about Scott.”

  After two drinks, I’d learned Scott kept to himself and made zero friends with the other security guards at Dolor. My nerves calmed a tad from the liquor, mind stuck in a trance, and my gaze hung on to the blur of bodies dancing before me. A new song I’d never heard of drifted, laughter and soft voices flowed, and the girl with the L name ended up at my side, the both of them feeding me drinks and information. None of which were of any use to me.

  Everything he’d said about Scott wasn’t new to me.

  Scott was quiet, careful, and cautious.

  The only person he fancied was Mia.

  “I’d never heard anyone talk to Lynch the way Scott did,” Jinx leaned over and flicked his cigarette, dropping ashes in a cup between us, “Scott just didn’t give a shit, you know? Acted like he was doing Lynch a favor by being there, and Lynch never said otherwise. It was fucking weird, and it pissed off some of my mates. The whole situation was dodgy.”

  “So, you have nothing,” I mumbled before bringing the rim of the cup to my lips. Sinking back into the couch, I stretched open my thighs as my heel tapped over the ground.