Her Only Hero

Chapter 13

I lean my head back against the headrest, closing my eyes, wishing the aching away.

"What are we looking for?" Axel asks.

"He was driving a black Land Rover ," I tell him, not bothering to open my eyes or lift my head. "Just keep driving and hopefully we'll see it."

"And if we don't?" asks Jonah.

"I don't know." I have no idea. I hadn't thought that far ahead and I can't control my mind at the moment to come up with an answer.

We drive in silence. No one talks to me and I become so lost in thought that if they did, I'm certain I wouldn't hear them.

I hope we find her, I think. I hope she's okay. I can't imagine how scared she would have been while he was chasing her around the house. Chasing her—trying to take her when clearly didn't—she—clearly she didn't want to go. How scared is she—she would be terrified. Scared out of her mind. I have to get to her. She'd be so scared. What would they do to her? Hurt—would they—would they hurt her?

If they hurt her, I'll—I swear, I'll make them swallow their teeth.

We have to find her. We have to. But...if we don't? Do we—What do we do then? I could call the cops. Am I too late. Should I have called them back at the house? I told Mum to call them, so should—why didn't I call them?

If by the time the police—if they—if by the time I tell the police. What if they get away? They could—What if they hurt her—kill—hurt her—hurt her because he kno—I'm here. Would the police be better? Would they find her—ever—in time?

They might—we—if—never find her.

Could she—would escape. Make a run for it. They could easily catch her—easy. Then what? Would they—Would they?

What's their plan?! If Chris doesn't want her, will he let her go? Bring her—Will he get rid of her, and the evidence? I have to get to her.

I place my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. With a groan and a sigh, I say, "What if we don't find her?"

"We will, mate," Axel reassures me, changing his tune.

"She'll be alright," Jonah follows along, despite his doubt beforehand.

I pull the beanie off my head and throw it on the empty seat between Wyatt and I. My fingers run through my hair, tugging the clumps in my grip, ignoring and enjoying the pain. "What if we're too late?"

"You can't think like that, mate," Axel says to me.

"You said he took her because he believes he's her father," he says, "and wants to raise her better than your mother, so most likely he won't hurt her."

He's right, I think. It makes sense. He wanted to take care of her so that should be what he does. But—Chris—

"I just don't know what to do," I say, sitting up. "I don't know how to deal with it all."

"That's because your not the adult," Wyatt says. "You mother should be the one dealing with all this."

"She couldn't care less," I say, looking out my window. "It's was almost like she was glad she was gone. Like she didn't have to take care of her anymore or organise her life around her child." The familiar ache of neglect hits my heart, and like every other time, I push it away and refuse to let it take over. "To her," I continue, "Misty and I are just a ball and chain around her ankle, keeping her from doing everything she wants to do. So, Misty going missing would be a blessing for her." The only thing she hates now is me.