Locked In

29

THEON

SEVEN HOURS EARLIER

Ainsley : I think we’ll be taking another detour to Ma’am Jeena’s. We didn’t want to go inside the school. It’s changed a lot. Have you gone back there since you came to South Highland? What are you doing right now? Also, have you seen my front yard? We added a few ‘designs’ to your decorations last night mid-drunk. It was so funny when I saw them this morning.

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling with my phone held above me, a faint smile pulling at my lips. Ainsley’s friends were a chaotic bunch, but they made her happy. I’d seen enough to know that. Her message, though, had me shaking my head slightly as I pictured whatever ridiculous stunt they’d pulled in their drunken state.

Still smiling, I got up and wandered over to my computer, pulling up the camera feed to her front yard. I’d turned off the ones inside the house yesterday. When I set my cameras in her house, it was because I wanted to watch her. Just her. Watch her fuck around in her house when she thought no one was watching. But watching her friends gave me the same cringe I got whenever the thought of obsessing over any girl who wasn’t Ainsley crossed my mind.

The feed flickered on, and the sight that greeted me nearly made me laugh. The jack-o’-lanterns were wearing bright, mismatched wigs. The skeletons had been accessorised too—one had a top hat, another had on a rainbow wig, and a couple of them held a cardboard sign that read, Happy Halloween, don’t turn into me. Bats made of plastic were strung haphazardly on the skeletons, and someone had slapped sunglasses onto one of the pumpkins and drew a moustache.

It was insane. And I could see why it made her laugh.

I was just about to reply when I noticed something shift on the edge of the screen. A man, hood up, was standing at the edge of Ainsley’s front yard. He wasn’t looking at the ridiculous decorations; his gaze was locked on her door.

My brows narrowed.

I knew him.

The way his shoulders slumped forward, the shape of him—he was the same man who’d slipped a letter under her door. I’d watched that clip too many times to recognise him in the dream.

The bastard even had an eyepatch.

Swearing under my breath, I paused the feed and ran a quick facial recognition scan. A name popped up: Frederick Jkir. Forty-seven. Divorced. Wife deceased. More irrelevant details filled the screen, but none of them mattered. What mattered was that I didn’t know him—and neither did Ainsley.

I knew everyone in her life.

I shoved back from the desk, heart pounding as I grabbed my shirt. I’d never make it in time if I went on foot, and I didn’t have a second to lose. My bike was tucked away in the garage, practically gathering dust, but right now, it was my only option. I threw on my helmet, revved the engine, and tore down the street towards her house.

By the time I got there, he was gone.

I cursed under my breath, scanning the empty street for any sign of him. But then my eyes landed on something small and white, lying just under Ainsley’s door. Another letter.

I was off the bike in seconds, crouching down to snatch it up. The message inside was short, but it sent anger rushing through me.

I’m taking back what you owe me tonight. See you again.

Tonight.

I crushed the paper in my fist, jaw clenching. I wasn’t sure what he thought Ainsley owed him, but threatening her was a mistake.

Pulling out my phone, I rewound the feed, watching the same man slip the note under the door before turning and walking away. His movements were slow, almost casual, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

But I did.

I mounted the bike again, heart racing as I raced through the streets, scanning every corner, every shadow. He couldn’t have gone far. He’d be around somewhere, lurking. The thought of him anywhere near her made my blood burn.

I turned onto a divided lane and paused, unsure of which direction he’d taken. Forcing myself to think logically, I chose the left path first, but when it turned up nothing, I doubled back and sped down the right.

I saw him.

He was walking briskly, head down, as though he was trying not to be noticed. But I knew better. He was used to walking that way. He wasn’t just a stalker. He was something more.

For a split second, the urge to run him down with my bike surged through me, but there were too many people about—trick-or-treaters, families, all of them oblivious to the rage thrumming through my veins. I couldn’t risk drawing attention to myself.

I parked the bike and followed on foot, keeping my distance. The whole time, anger was pounding inside me. He’d threatened Ainsley, and if he thought I’d let him walk away from that, he was wrong. Dead wrong.

He led me through several blocks, turning corners, walking faster now. I stayed close, taking different routes to keep out of sight, waiting for my moment. When we finally reached a quieter part of town, with fewer houses and almost no people, I knew I had him.

I cut ahead, taking a different alley to corner him. The second he saw me standing at the other end of the narrow space between the blocks, he stopped, his hand twitching at his side.

I watched as he pulled out a knife, his single eye narrowing.

I stared him down. “I’m assuming you know who I am.”

The man’s lips twisted into a sneer. “All because of you.”

I cocked my head, wondering just how long he’d been following us—me and Ainsley. He grunted suddenly, charging forward with the knife.

I was ready. As he lunged, I brought my leg up and kicked him hard in the chest. The impact sent him flying backwards. He crashed into the waste bins behind him, taking them down with him in a clattering mess. The knife clanged as it slipped from his grip, skidding far out of reach.

Without wasting a second, I closed the distance, knelt down, and drove my fist into his face. One punch. Two. Three. His head snapped back with each hit, blood smearing my knuckles. But the asshole was strong. Even as his face swelled and bruised, he reached blindly for something on the ground.

Before I could stop him, he swung a rock straight into the side of my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes as I staggered, the world tilting around me. He took the opportunity to roll me over, pinning me down, and his fists came down on me with brutal force. I gritted my teeth, absorbing the blows, waiting for the moment to retaliate.

I didn’t have to wait long. Summoning my strength, I bucked him off, my boot connecting with his side. He stumbled back, but his recovery was quick. Too quick.

Just as I was pushing myself up, still dazed from the rock to my skull, he lunged again. This time, I wasn’t fast enough to see the needle until it was already piercing my neck. A sharp, burning sensation spread instantly through my veins.

Something toxic.

I grunted, trying to stay upright, my vision blurring as the drug took hold. Dizzy, I managed to shove him away, but my strength was fading fast. My body gave out, and I collapsed against the ground, unable to fight the pull of unconsciousness.

Through heavy, blinking eyes, I saw him grab the knife again, raising it high above his head. I tried to move, to stop him, but I couldn’t. The drug was too strong. I passed out before I could see the blade come down.

PRESENT

The music was deafening, pounding through the walls as if the entire house was vibrating with it. People milled around in costumes—witches, devils, skeletons—faces painted in macabre colours, their laughter and chatter blending into the chaos. I shifted, my foot knocking against a broken glass on the floor. It had been dropped earlier when Ainsley came on my fingers. I could still smell her on me, and if everything went well tonight, she would be spending the night at my place. Her friends would be too drunk to notice she wasn’t with them.

My chest tightened. For a second, I’d thought I was too late—that the one-eyed bastard had taken her. The thought had haunted me as I sped here. But the minute I stepped into the house, I spotted her. My eyes locked onto her figure in the sea of costumes, relief flooding through me.

But that relief was short-lived.

Because then I saw it—the real situation. Some asshole was trying to dance with her, his hands gripping her too tight, his movements too forceful. Her discomfort was clear, but the prick didn’t seem to care. Rage flared in me, a dark, boiling anger that nearly sent me charging towards him. My fists itched to connect with his face, to knock him out cold right then and there. But I’d forced myself to stay put. I didn’t want to do it with so many people around. I had to wait until she shook him off. Because if I went there, people would stop me from punching him till the ground swallowed him.

When she finally managed to pull away from him, I made my move. I was on him in seconds, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and dragging him out of the crowd, far from the prying eyes of the party. The moment we were out of sight, I taught him the lesson he deserved. Several punches to the gut, another several to his jaw, and when he was down, I snapped his legs for good measure. I wasn’t just annoyed. I was furious. He was lucky I didn’t do worse.

I wasn’t sure why I was still alive. I half-expected to be dead after what happened some hours ago—the last thing I remembered was that man, the one with the eyepatch, raising the knife above me. The drug he’d injected me with had knocked me out cold for six hours. I’d woken up in the hospital an hour ago, dashed out of there with no knowledge of my helper, and went back to get my bike.

But I wasn’t dead.

And now that I’m not, that one-eyed bastard better pray that he is. Because the next time I find him, I’ll put him through hell.

The longer I stood here, the more the buzzing in my ears became deafening. My eyes flicked to the direction Ainsley had disappeared with her friend. It’d been twenty minutes, and they were still nowhere to be seen. The music felt louder, the beat a chaotic rhythm against my pulse. I waited a few more minutes, each second stretching into an eternity, before I finally cut through the crowd and made my way to the back door. Something wasn’t right.

I reached for the handle, about to yank it open, when the door flew towards my face. I jerked back just in time to avoid getting smacked in the nose. Jade stumbled in, half crying, half angry, her voice breaking between sobs. I recognised her immediately, despite her face being a smudged mess of paint and ruined makeup, streaks running down her cheeks like a bad joke.

But she was alone.

Panic hit me like a wrecking ball.

“Where’s Ainsley? She wouldn’t leave me alone. Where did she go?” Jade’s words tumbled out, frantic, her wide eyes searching mine.

My heart stopped. The earth spun.

I bolted outside, barely registering her cries as I spun around in the cold night air. She couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t be taken. My mind raced, desperate to find a reason that wasn’t the one threatening to suffocate me.

“Where was she? Where did you last see her?” My voice sounded foreign to my own ears—desperate, hollow.

Jade stared at me, confusion clouding her features. “She isn’t with you?” Tears spilled from her eyes as she muttered something about how the night was turning into a disaster, but I wasn’t listening.

My fists clenched. I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly to get her to focus. “Look at me. Focus.” My voice was harsh, almost a growl. My heart was thundering in my chest, and every fibre of my being was screaming at me to move, to find her. “Where is she?”

Jade blinked rapidly, finally snapping out of it. “I told her to get me wipes from the car...but she never came back.”

The car. My blood ran cold. “For how long?” I muttered, already piecing together the puzzle I didn’t want to solve.

“About nineteen minutes.”

I cursed under my breath and bolted, leaving her behind as I made a beeline for the cars parked in front of the house. I knew which one was theirs. I’d seen it when it was parked at Ainsley’s—a white sedan. When I reached it, the doors were locked, and she wasn’t inside. My gaze dropped to the ground, scanning for any sign.

The car key.

I grabbed it, trying it on the door to confirm it belonged to the sedan. The locks clicked open. Fuck. My heart drummed louder as I crouched, my eyes sweeping the area. Then I saw another—her silver wig, abandoned near a nearby car. I reached out, picking it up with trembling fingers. Not far from that, I spotted the wipes...and her phone, shattered, crushed.

But it was the half-full syringe that made my blood run cold. He’d injected a little of it into her.

The air whooshed out of my lungs as anger, frustration, and pure terror collided inside me. I gripped the syringe tighter than I should have, my knuckles white. He’d used it on her. He’d taken her.

I was furious at myself—furious for knowing he’d be here and still letting him get to her. She’d been gone for nineteen minutes, and I hadn’t noticed. Nineteen fucking minutes.

But that one-eyed bastard had underestimated me.

If he thought he could slip away unnoticed, he was badly mistaken. I’d prepared for this, planned for it. There were three trackers on her—one in her phone and another in her necklace. If by some chance he figured that out and tossed her phone, the necklace would still lead me to her. And if he took that off, too, I’d slipped a third into her costume when I was fingering her in the party. Unless he stripped her completely—which he fucking better not have—I’d find her.

“What happened? Where’s Ainsley? Where—”

I hadn’t realised Jade followed me, and now she was searching around, eyes wide in terror. I put Ainsley’s belongings into her hands. “Take these, gather the rest, and go home. I’ll bring her back soon.” I told her, my tone leaving no room for argument.

“She’s kidnapped?”

My eyes must have held the answer because she almost lost her balance, holding the nearest car to keep herself up. Nodding as if she’d lost her mind, she took off in the direction of the party house.

As soon as she stumbled away, I pulled out my phone, my fingers moving fast as I opened the tracking app. The screen loaded slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. When the map appeared, I saw the familiar dots. The phone’s tracker was inactive—he’d smashed it—but the dormant dot of the secondary tracker was still active. I breathed a little easier, but only just. Dormant didn’t mean dead. It just meant she wasn’t moving. He must have stopped.

The address was far. Too far. And my gut churned with the thought that she might not be alive by the time I got there.

Don’t think like that. Focus .

I dashed to my bike, the wind whipping my face as I raced through the streets. My knuckles tightened on the handlebars as I weaved between cars, the cold night air biting into my skin. The fear gnawed at me. I was angry—angry at myself, angry at him—but more than that, I was terrified.

What if I was too late?

That thought kept racing through my mind, over and over, as I pushed the bike faster. What if she was already...No. I couldn’t think like that. I’d find her. I had to. Fuck, I had to.

The place was dark and desolate when I finally arrived—a long-abandoned building in the developing part of the town. It looked like something out of a nightmare, the kind of place people disappear into and never come out of. I parked my bike and slipped off, yanking the knife from my boot as I headed for the door. The dot on the tracker was close. Too close.

I pushed through the heavy door, the darkness swallowing me whole. The silence in the building was deafening, my own breath loud in my ears. I moved quietly, the tracker confirming I was right on top of her.

Somewhere in this place, she was waiting for me. And that one-eyed bastard...he was about to find out exactly what hell looked like.