Taken: Before Her Very Eyes Read online

  The dirty fingernails rolled beneath his thumb as he continued to grind the leaf into obliteration. It wasn’t until the next gust of wind came erupting down the empty sidewalk that his fingers slowly opened, releasing the fine powder upon the breeze, sending it sailing into the darkness.

  Summer felt a chill move through her body. She reached out, twisted the keys and the engine roared to life. The urge to escape flooded her body. Suddenly she didn’t know why she was sitting there on this street, what she was waiting for, only that she needed to get away—and fast.

  As she stepped on the brake and placed the car in gear, a red Mercedes came screeching to a halt in front, nearly clipping the front corner of her slowly moving car.

  “Shit!” Summer slammed the wheel. She didn’t know if she was angrier at the driver’s reckless behaviour, or at her own irrational thinking.

  The man threw open the door and leapt quickly to his feet. Summer’s heart caught for a moment. Her mind flashed back to that night five months ago. She knew she was overreacting. After all, John Scott was sitting behind bars under heavy guard waiting for her to ID him.

  “Summer,” Dean yelled, racing up the sidewalk. His dark curly hair, which was always a little too long, caught in the wind and obscured his chocolate brown eyes. Hastily he brushed it back, holding it against the wind with one hand. He smiled as he reached the window, his perfect white teeth gleaming against the dark growth of stubble on his face. “I know I’m late, but it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Don’t give me that look!”

  His smile faded.

  “It’s never your fault, now is it?” Summer listened to him jingle his car keys, an old habit that drove her nuts on a good day. But today wasn’t even close.

  “Dean, if you don’t stop shaking those damn keys, I’ll—”

  “Sorry.” He clamped his other hand over top. “Hard habit to break.” He pointed to the red Mercedes where Sabrina had propped herself in the back window. Although she had Summer’s petite build, she would never be her spitting image. Dean’s chromosomes had fought the battle and won. Sabrina had emerged into this world with dirty blond hair and eyes the colour of weak tea. The only evidence that Sabrina was her daughter, were those commanding eyes, which had absorbed enough green to almost glow. They were the first thing people noticed and the last thing they remembered.

  “Do you like it? Sabrina helped me pick it out.”

  She smiled at Sabrina and felt the tension begin to fade. She noticed the trembling in her limbs had subsided. “It’s nice. Expensive, but nice.”

  “Since I gave up the house and my Volvo,” Dean stepped closer to the window, “I needed something to drive.”

  “What about my old car? What’s wrong with it?”

  “No offence, but it was a piece of shit. They actually wanted me to pay them to take it in for a trade.”

  “You traded my car for that?”

  “Your old car wouldn’t even pay for the licence plates, let alone a fraction of the cost.”

  “But it was my car. You had no right selling it.”

  “I gave you this car. You should be happy.” Dean’s mouth tightened into a fine line as he started jingling the keys again. “It’s a hundred times better than that piece of shit you’ve been driving around in.”

  “This,” Summer pointed her twitching finger at the jingling keys, “is exactly why we’re separated.”

  The rain began falling harder, driven by a gusting north wind. Dean abandoned his hair and flipped up his coat collar. “We’re not separated. We’re just taking a break,” he turned to check on Sabrina and muttered, “because of you.”

  Summer glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her face growing red with anger. Her crimson cheeks stood out like stop lights against her shoulder length blond hair. She took a deep breath and decided to change the subject.

  “Why do you do this?” Summer forced a smile for her daughter then turned to Dean. “I was perfectly clear. You could have Sabrina for forty-eight hours, then bring her back.”

  Dean scuffed his white running shoe along the sidewalk. She knew he was taking a minute to calm himself down and when he looked up again, he ran his hand up his forehead, slicking his hair back, then motioned to Sabrina. “I know you’re gonna say no,” he tipped his head slightly, “but Sabrina really wants to stay for another night. I can drop her off tomorrow morning instead.”

  Summer caught the little signal. She turned and Sabrina popped up higher in the back window, clasping her hands together in a mock plea. Although it was a staged act, she felt her heart ache over her daughter being torn between them. She wanted what was best for her, but if she gave in today, he’d ask every time he had custody.

  “No, and how dare you put her up to this!” she said through a gritted smile. “You’re lower than low using Sabrina against me.”

  “I’m not using her. She really wants to stay.” Dean reached through the window and touched her arm.

  Summer jerked away and sat staring at her arm as if Dean had somehow harmed her. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t stop her body from reacting like that. It was an involuntary reaction and one that had fuelled many fights. John Scott was the real reason they were here squabbling over custody times. He was the reason they were separated. He was the reason she couldn’t tolerate her husband’s touch anymore. Sure they promised to stay together until death, but after what John Scott had done, she felt like part of her had truly died.

  “Sabrina’s devastated that we’re not a family anymore.” Dean scrubbed the stubble on his face. “She doesn’t understand why we can’t live together at home. I tried to explain it, but—”

  “What, that her mother doesn’t want her father around anymore?” Tears filled her eyes. “That I don’t want you around!”

  “No.” Dean shook his head. He reached toward her arm again, but left his hand hovering inches above, unwilling to chance rejection once again. “I’d never poison her mind. That’s not fair—”

  Summer’s cell phone rang. Glad for a distraction, she rummaged through the centre console until she found it. She quickly flipped it open and glanced at the display. “You’re a piece of shit! This,” she shoved the phone before his eyes, “isn’t playing fair.”

  Dean glanced from the caller ID on the cell phone, to the back window of his car. “I swear I never told her to call you. She’s been playing with that thing all day. She actually called my contact in Detroit. Luckily he wasn’t there—”

  “Hi Sweetie.” Summer waved. “Yes, I can see you, too. Why don’t you climb out and see how fast you can get inside this car?”

  The image of the vagrant destroying the leaf flashed like a warning shot. Maybe she was overreacting? Maybe she needed to up her dosage of medication? Hell, maybe she didn’t really know what the hell she needed.

  “Actually, maybe you should wait…” She leaned forward, looking past Dean, eyes darting to the pile of trash where she’d last seen him, but his hand wasn’t protruding anymore. He probably covered up because of the rain.

  “Daddy took me to try on cars yesterday.” Summer turned to see Sabrina bouncing on the seat. She had the biggest smile on her face and Summer couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her daughter so exited. “Do you like the one I picked out?”

  “Did you pick the colour, or did Daddy?”

  “It’s red,” she waved the back of her hand across the window, “like my nails. You done a good job, Mommy. The man at the car store, he liked them. He said they were pretty like me.”

  “Well, he was wrong.” Summer felt the warmth of tears building in her eyes. She relished the feeling Sabrina brought to her world. The feeling that only her own flesh and blood could bring. Summer dropped a hand to her stomach, feeling the slight bulge below her jacket and sighed. “They’re not pretty. They’re beautiful.”

  She giggled and flopped out of sight. “Daddy told the man that, too.”

  Summer glanced at her husband, realizing how much he tr
uly loved Sabrina. He’d always been able to make her laugh and smile. He always knew exactly how to brighten her saddest days. Even after the incident with John Scott, when Summer had confined herself to the bedroom, unwilling to face Dean and the entire world, he’d brought happiness to Sabrina. Maybe she’d been too hasty with the separation? Maybe she needed to face her demons head on? She thought of the small fetus growing in her belly and realized that in four months she’d have to do exactly that.

  “Yes, I know you had a lot of fun with Daddy this weekend, but you have school today.” Summer glanced back to the trash pile. A white sneaker protruded from the rubbish. The movement brought relief. At least she knew exactly where the vagrant was.

  “I can be sick of school.” She peeked over the back seat. “Daddy said he’d take me to the zoo instead.”

  “The zoo?” Summer caught the brief sight of Sabrina before she disappeared again, then turned her attention back to the trash pile. “I think school is more important than looking at animals.”

  Dean turned his head, following Summer’s gaze. He took five steps onto the sidewalk and stooped over, gazing at the white sneaker sticking out of the trash.

  “Please, Mommy.”

  “Um, no. You have school. Besides, it’s too cold. The animals will all be hibernating.”

  Dean took two more steps, blocking Summer’s line of vision. What was he doing? Why is he even getting near that man? Sure he always gave to charity and would never refuse a request for loose change, but this vagrant was dangerous, she could feel it in her bones.

  Summer leaned out the window, narrowing her eyes at Dean’s back. A low hushed voice caught on the wind, drifting to her ears. The vagrant was talking to Dean. Probably asking for a handout.

  “Dean… Dean! What are you doing?” The fear that the vagrant had instilled moments ago was replaced with a fear for Dean’s safety. Why was he ignoring her call? Was he doing this just to punish her for refusing to let Sabrina stay for another night?

  “What? Yes Sabrina, Mommy’s still here.” The phone beeped, sounding the low battery warning. “Darling, Mommy has to go now. Hang up and wait in the car for Daddy to get you.” The phone beeped again and Summer flipped the cover closed, disconnecting her tie to Sabrina, then dropped it into the console.

  “Dean! Get back here right—” She paused, seeing the streetlight reflect off the gold chain around the vagrant’s neck. It was the only thing visible as his face remained hidden in the shadows. The image was wrong. A bum would’ve hawked the chain for a bottle of booze. So why did this bum still have it?

  The vagrant shifted and disappeared back into the dark shadows. Dean leaned closer, bending over the vagrant, listening to his conversation. He listened for a few seconds before turning his head in Summer’s direction. His face looked different. Pale, shiny, scared. She’d never seen him afraid before.

  It happened so fast, but at the same time like in slow motion. The shiny blade slid from the dirty shirt sleeve. Streetlight reflected off as it arched up, straight toward Dean’s mid section. Summer watched the polished blade and swore she could see her frightened reflection screaming out a warning to Dean, but in reality she sat, dumbstruck, unable to voice a single word, let alone one syllable.

  The blade plunged through the fabric of Dean’s light jacket, vanishing within his abdomen. The muscles on the vagrant’s forearm bulged as he maintained the death grip on the handle.

  Summer’s eyes darted from the knife handle to Dean’s face. The vagrant seemed to be holding the knife deep inside, adding insult to the attack. Dean’s eyes bulged wide as a look of pure terror swept over his face, realizing the blade was still inside—still capable of doing more damage.

  Summer winced, sympathy pain shooting through her body. She knew exactly what he was going through, knew the pain of a blade slicing through her skin, flesh and even coming to a jarring halt as it slammed into bone. In a flash, her mind retreated to that bright summer day when she looked from the frightened face of a teenager, to the handle protruding from her body. It didn’t matter if it was close to a vital organ or not, because when the blade disappeared inside your body, you thought about death—your own death.

  Dean’s wide eyes locked onto Summer as the vagrant ripped the blade from his stomach with the speed of a professional hit man. Dean took an awkward step backwards, instinctively pulling his hands to his stomach as the car keys fell from his outstretched fingers, tumbling in the streetlight to the wet sidewalk.

  As the vagrant sat fully upright, he held the knife before his face, twisting it—almost admiring the way the blood trickled down the razor sharp edge.

  Summer heard muffled screams fill the night. They were unmistakeably those of her child. She broke the trance with Dean, and fighting a new level of nervous spasms, she dared to glance to the car ahead where Sabrina had been watching the whole time. Summer’s stomach fell. She wished for Sabrina’s sake that she wouldn’t have seen this act of violence. God knows she’s been through a lifetime’s worth in the last five months.

  Sabrina’s face was red, her mouth wide open airing a high-pitched scream into the night. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she bounced wildly in the back seat. Even at six years old she seemed to know exactly what had happened to her father.

  “Sabrina needs me. She needs her mother,” Summer muttered, shaking helplessly behind the steering wheel, unable to gather her usual strength and deal with the situation. Normally she would’ve jumped out and subdued the perpetrator. After all, she is a cop—a cop who’s on stress leave for the last five months because she can’t control her stupid emotions in situations… situations like this.

  In slow motion, with every muscle jerking uncontrollably, Summer turned back to watch Dean. Her body was rebelling. It seemed to be fighting her every move. Frustration was building as she had to battle her own mind for control of her muscles. Dean had fallen to his knees, one hand clamped to the hole in his flesh, squeezing with everything he had, trying to keep his soul from escaping. His other hand was inches from his face, fingers rubbing the thick blood as he no doubt tried to comprehend what had just happened.

  The vagrant drew the blade across his shirt sleeve, wiping the blood off before sliding it back into his pocket. He dug in the bag beside, pulled out a black object and slipped it on his head.

  A ski mask.

  He yanked it down, adjusted the holes, then slowly climbed to his feet as if nothing had happened. Summer watched as he stood, realizing that he wasn’t actually a homeless person, but a killer waiting to strike.

  He glanced over. Holding Summer’s gaze, he bent to the ground before Dean and carefully plucked the keys from a shallow puddle. Straightening, he flipped the keys up, catching them in midair and gave her a wide smile. A grin of arrogance. A grin of superiority.

  Her head flipped from the keys, to the red Mercedes. The red Mercedes, which held her only daughter.

  “No,” Summer gasped as the attacker walked slowly toward the Mercedes. He acted as if nothing had happened. Nobody was bleeding to death behind. Nobody was watching as he prepared to steal the car. He even seemed to have a slight bounce in his step as he headed straight for the door of the Mercedes.

  Hands shaking uncontrollably, Summer cursed while stabbing for the door handle. How she wished she had her control back. After a few tries, she finally managed to grasp it and pull the handle. She pushed against the door with all her might and it swung wide open, causing the attacker to stop with his fingers on the door handle of the Mercedes. He glanced back and Summer saw the smirk through the mouth hole in the mask.

  “No!” she screamed, convulsions taking over. “Leave… her… alone!” Reaching out a shaking hand, she gripped the window sash then pulled her trembling body from the car. She watched helplessly as he jumped behind the wheel and started the Mercedes.

  Sabrina screamed so loud that nothing came out as she cowered into the farthest corner of the back seat, clutching her hands protectively before her. Su
mmer lurched toward the car, fighting her nerves every inch. She could see the terror in Sabrina’s face.

  He was waiting. Daring Summer to come closer.

  She lunged forward, reaching out to the car.

  Sabrina found her voice and started screaming hysterically.

  Something snagged Summer’s pant leg.

  She jerked her leg free.

  The engine revved.

  Another high-pitched scream erupted.

  It was back, gripping her leg, preventing her from getting closer.

  She lunged as the tires spun on the wet pavement. Her outstretched fingers brushed the wet cold metal as the Mercedes tore out of the parking spot and down the road.

  Summer glanced down, spotted the bloody hand clenched to her leg and realized that Dean was dying.

  “He…” Summer croaked, pointing a trembling finger in the direction of the Mercedes, “took Sabrina.”

  Tears cascaded down Summer’s pale cheeks, falling to the damp concrete below.

  “Go!” Dean released her leg. He stared down at the bloodstain spreading from under his hand. “Go, after her.”

  “I… can’t?” She glanced at her shaking hands. “I just… can’t!”

  “Summer, you have to.” Dean’s voice was strained. He was going into shock. She’d seen this many times before. She knew how to deal with victims, but she couldn’t figure out how to deal with her own fears.

  “We’ll call the police.” Summer glanced up and down the street, searching for anybody to help. “They can stop him. They’re good at that.”

  “I’ll call.” He snagged her trembling hand and pulled, managing to get to his knees. “But you have to go after him!”

  Summer clenched her eyes closed, hoping to make everything disappear. She couldn’t imagine giving pursuit in her condition. She could barely manage to fight rush hour traffic. Her head was spinning. She knew Dean was right. Someone had to go after them. But not her. She couldn’t do it.