INK: Abstraction Read online

  INK: Abstraction, (Book 3)

  BY

  Bella Roccaforte

  The characters and events in this novel are entirely fictional. No similarity between any of the names, characters, persons, and/or institutions in this book with those of any living or dead person or institutions is intended, and any such similarity which may exist is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Itzy

  Cover Model Ivy Gibbins

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photo- copying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  BellaWrites.com

  Prologue

  Shay

  There are times throughout our existence when we are so tired and beaten that we feel as though we’ve already lived a thousand lifetimes. It’s then that we justify to ourselves that it’s okay to give up and stop fighting. When you know you’ll never feel the kind of real happiness that you read about in books or see in movies. Me? That’s where I am at this moment. Can my happiness ever outweigh my misery?

  Doubtful at this point.

  I miss that innocent simplicity of childhood when, if something didn’t make sense, Daddy could tell you it was okay and it really was. When a hug chased away the boogie man and every other scary or sad thing; but as I’ve grown, so has my sadness. My ability to love has grown, but it’s matched pound for pound by pain. I’m only one person, one soul, yet it would seem I’m destined to love two hearts, two separate and unique men who both love me.

  Part of me wonders if it’s because it’s all we’ve ever known. They have been a part of me since the beginning. I don’t remember a time without Eli or Aiden being in my life. They are two forevers that I desperately want to hold, but I just can’t make it work. There’s no way that my love for them both can exist in this world.

  It’s not about letting either of them go, it’s about love. It’s about admiration and care. I know that both of them would die for me, kill for me. But are either of them able to be complete without me so that we could be whole together? Would either of them make the necessary changes in their lives?

  Would I?

  My love for them is undeniable; it flows through my body with every breath that I take and rides encoded on every blood cell. It’s simply part of who I am. Loving them is who I am. It resonates, reminding me that it’s there even when I’m not thinking of them.

  Could I really choose between them if I had to? Probably not, but who would I choose? Do you choose an insane chemical reaction that drives you to madness and bad decisions? Or do you choose the safety and comfort of someone who adores you more than life itself?

  I don’t know, I may never know. It’s thoughts like these that make me want to give up. Give up so I don’t have to choose, and in this moment, surrender would be a sweet relief.

  I’m continuously being judged by how I grieve for those I’ve lost and for loving two men. That sometimes I’m too weak or too stubborn. My brain can hardly process all of the loss I’ve had in such a short time. How could anyone possibly know what I'm going through? How I feel?

  People try to tell me how I’m supposed to grieve for the loss of Elise, but has it ever dawned on them that I’ve been grieving her loss my whole life? No. Because they aren’t inside me, they don’t know my pain. I’ve lost friends, co-workers, my mother, my sister and Aiden.

  Aiden.

  I’m driving myself to distraction, using the quandary of Eli or Aiden. The epiphany strikes in my mind when I realize that’s what I’ve been doing my whole life. Am I living a lie so that I don’t have to face the truth?

  Is it so I don’t really have to grow up or choose? Is that why I sought solitude to find happiness without them? Was I simply trying to fool myself into believing I didn’t need them?

  Probably.

  But the simple fact is that I do love them both. Yes, doomed to live in this limbo, doomed to never love one of them enough to let go.

  It’s ironic that now, in my terror, and what are likely my last hours, sorrow and regret are all I have left to hang on to. That now in the end, I finally have the clarity to grieve.

  It would be so easy right now to succumb to the darkness tugging me into the depths of anguish. Just let go and will myself to cease. My own breathing is paired with the breath of another.

  Someone who previously was not enjoying the quiet comfort of just being tied up, gagged and blindfolded. His ragged cries tear through me until they finally stop with a faint gurgle. His breathing has slowed and our tormentor has left. We're alone, it's just us.

  Just me and my companion.

  The death rattle has never been something that I gave much thought, but the relief I hear when he expels his final breath is inviting. He makes it sound so good, so enticing. If only I could blow out my last breath and feel his relief. Feel the absence of pain, both emotional and physical. What would that be like?

  To no longer feel pain or have to eat anguish and uncertainty for breakfast, lunch and dinner? What does peace feel like? What does it taste like? It has to be better than the combination of chemicals, fabric and vomit that I taste now.

  The room feels darker, colder and I notice that my companion’s breathing has completely ceased. I lament the loss of his unspoken companionship in captivity and torture. The duct tape across my eyes becomes slippery with the sweat and tears accumulating behind it. The realization hits me and despair rips through my being, dragging the truth in its wake. For the first time in a long time I don’t want to be alone. I miss him, whoever he was. I wish he would come back, and as selfish as the thought is I can’t stop it from consuming me.

  Remorse can’t win this battle of fear and desperation. I try to call out to him, to bring him back, but the cries get caught in my gag. My unspent screams gnaw at my resolve.

  Trying to refocus on getting out of here I work on the binds on my hands. I chant over and over in my head I have to get out of here.

  My hands are slick with blood and sweat, but it feels like the rope is just swelling with the moisture, making it impossible to slip free. My thoughts come full circle back to just giving up, back to the only way I can think of getting out of this. Only in death will I find peace from all that troubles me, least of all the binds on my hands.

  Chapter One

  Hoe

  Eli

  Harry’s holding it together, but barely. Shay is all he has left, and she’s gone. Actually gone and in certain danger. There’s no question in my mind that if we don’t find her soon she’ll be gone forever. She has everything going against her. The bastard that took her killed the security guard, proving he has no problem taking a life. He took her from the original location, which almost never ends well. We have no real pathos on this guy and nothing to go on. No surveillance video, no contact or note, nothing. Not a word. It’s been four days of silence.

  “Eli, you need to eat.” Harry puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m fine. But you should get something. When was the last time you ate or slept?” I know he hasn’t slept for at least two days, unless you count five or ten minute naps scattered throughout the span of days.

  McNab and Carl come in the house dragging a dark cloud of doom behind them. The look in McNab’s eyes tells the story that they have no news. He looks at me and subtly shakes his head, confirming that he’s got nothing.

  Miranda has all but taken over my office; you can cut the tension between her and McNab with a knife. I’m not sure what the story is there, but whatever it is, it runs deep.

  Carl sits on the couch and puts his head in his hands, blowing out a frustrated breath. “McNab, I think it's time we faced some har
d facts. It's time to start planning—”

  “What plans?” Anger pierces me sharply at the implication that we start making funeral arrangements.

  “Eli, she’s been gone for four days.” McNab stands in front of me. “We need to start making some decisions on what we are willing to do to get her back.”

  “Anything, I’ll do anything,” I answer desperately.

  “McNab, if you have any ideas on how to find Shayleigh and bring her home I think we should have heard about it four days ago.” Harry’s tone is scolding and impatient.

  Miranda emerges from my office. “Yes McNab, why don’t you share your little plan.”

  “Miranda,” Carl warns.

  “Stuff it, Carl.” Miranda walks across the room, squaring off with McNab. She stands directly in his personal space. I can almost feel his sphincter pucker. “Why don’t you tell the rest of the class what you’ve got up your sleeve, McNab.”

  He takes three steps back and looks to Carl as though he’s asking permission. After Carl shakes his head, McNab retreats to the kitchen in silence.

  “McNab?” Harry calls after him, sounding desperate.

  “We have some ideas, but it’s dangerous.” McNab looks at Carl with deep concern. “Possibly for both Carl and Shay.”

  Everyone focuses on Carl. He stands and takes in a fortifying breath. “I might be able to make contact by streaming, but there are no guarantees.”

  “Carl, please, English.” Although it would seem as though I’m the only one in the room who isn’t getting what he’s saying.

  “You are pretty,” Miranda patronizes, walking by me and putting her hand on my face. It slides off slow and leaves a wake of ick that could render me impotent for life. “That’s good.” She takes a doughnut from the box on the counter and sinks her teeth into it.

  McNab looks like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. “Eli isn’t familiar with this sort of thing.”

  Harry isn’t tracking much of what’s happening. I think the exhaustion and stress of her being gone are starting to take their toll. Looking to him for answers on any of this is useless.

  “I can try to do an astral projection. It can be dangerous. I’m very vulnerable while I’m streaming,” Carl explains. Harry blows out a breath and looks to Miranda.

  “Astral projection? What is that?” I can’t pretend to know what they are talking about.

  Carl takes a breath to speak, but Miranda cuts him off. “He’s basically going to leave his body and travel to where Shay is.” She licks the frosting off her fingers. “All seems a little farfetched, doesn’t it?”

  “Miranda, if you aren’t going to be helping maybe you should go back to your hotel,” McNab suggests.

  “Oh, and miss all the fun?” She sits on the back of the couch and smiles sweetly at McNab, but you can feel the goading behind it. “Not on your life.”

  Harry doesn’t notice the death rays between these two. This can’t possibly be productive. The clock is ticking, they have to stop this. I stand from the bar stool. “Okay, that’s enough. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you two have going on between you, but it’s going to stop. We need to find Shay, not sit here and bicker.” I turn to Carl, who I can see is in complete agreement. “Carl, I would do anything to find her and get her back in one piece. If you can do that I would be incredibly grateful.”

  “Aren’t you an assertive little thing?” Miranda heads back into my office. Good riddance.

  “There’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to contact her if she’s alive. There’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to pinpoint her actual location. And I absolutely can’t protect her or myself when I’m in the astral plane.”

  “We have to bring her home,” I plead with him. “Carl, if you do your projector thing we might at least know that she is alive.”

  “Astral projection,” McNab corrects. “And this does have to be Carl’s decision.”

  Harry’s worried expression is forlorn when he looks to Carl. “Please Carl. We would at least know…”

  “I’ll do it.” Carl doesn’t hesitate and he’s rewarded with Harry’s relief.

  “Thank you.” Harry tries to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

  Carl pats Harry on the back. “We’re going to find her.”

  Something in Harry snaps and he breaks down completely. Carl guides him to the couch. “Harry, we’re going to bring her home.”

  Harry doesn’t say anything. He tries to quiet his sobs while McNab, Carl and I comfort him. “We are. Besides, she’s a hell of lot stronger than anyone gives her credit for,” McNab offers.

  “If we just had an idea of who took her, then we would have something to go on.” Harry’s lamenting, but I can see the wheels turning in his head.

  “I know, Harry. I wish there was more information, some way to know where to start; do you have any ideas, McNab?” I ask the loaded question that I’ve been wanting answered since this all started. I want to know if Aiden is involved in this.

  “Eli, Aiden would never hurt her,” he says with an unwavering certainty, never lifting his gaze from Harry.

  “How do we know?” Harry perks up and looks to me for backup. Apparently he has been having the same thoughts as I have. “He did shoot her. I would think that if he knew what was happening he would be here looking for her. Unless he already knows where she is.” Harry stares at McNab, unblinking.

  “Harry, Aiden isn’t involved in this,” McNab answers.

  “But how can you be sure?” I challenge him, standing up.

  “How can you not be sure?” He matches my stare. “He loves her just as much as you do, Eli, maybe more.” He shakes his head while looking down.

  “If he did, wouldn't he be here?” Who the hell is this guy? He has no idea how much I love her, that I would give my life for her. Fuck him. “Unless he was guilty.”

  “Aiden is a lot of things, but a kidnapper? No.”

  “I think he may have murdered Shayleigh’s neighbors,” Harry interjects quietly.

  “What?” Carl is incredulous. “Of course he didn’t murder them.”

  “He disposed of evidence in Tampa, we saw it on the surveillance video.” I look to Harry for confirmation.

  “What you are saying is that disposing of evidence makes him guilty? Is that the key takeaway, Eli?” McNab raises an eyebrow, reminding me that I’ve done the very same thing with Taffy’s breast implants.

  “That’s different.” I put my hands on my waist trying to not slump where I’m standing. “I found those.”

  “You don’t know what Aiden disposed of, or how he came into possession of what he ‘found.’” McNab turns his back to me and paces behind the couch.

  “Do you know?” Harry lifts his tired eyes to McNab hopeful that he’ll get an answer.

  “Yes, I do. I do know.” McNab takes in a deep breath. “He found a Blood-borne backpack in the field between Shay’s and the Messner’s houses. He didn't know what was in it, other than it was bloody and it looked like meat.” McNab pauses, reliving Aiden's horror, or knowing him, he's pausing for affect. “Meat.”

  He walks around to the front of the couch, working hard to keep the remorse at bay. “He thought that Shay had dropped it. Dropped it doing...well, whatever his imagination led him to believe. He was trying to protect her, so he threw it into the bay.”

  I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me when marveling at that rampant stupidity of Aiden. “He really thought Shay did it.”

  “He didn’t know what to think other than that he had to protect her. That’s what he did, what he thought was best. He was just trying to protect her.” Carl answers for McNab.

  “Where is he now?” Harry asks, seeming to gloss over the entire conversation.

  “We don’t actually know.” McNab’s expression is clouded with doubt.

  “You don’t know?” I’m dubious.

  “No, we haven’t been able to reach him since Shay went into the void.” Carl’s voice is heavy with worry.
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  “So we can’t rule him out?”

  “Yes, Eli, we can rule him out for all the same reasons we can rule you out.” McNab closes the gap between us and looks me square in the eye. “Because he loves Shay and wouldn’t hurt her.”

  Miranda appears in the doorway and McNab steps back, brushing his shirt down. He’s silent, as is Carl. They both see her.

  “What did I miss?” she asks.

  “Nothing important.” McNab puts some physical distance between him and Miranda.

  “‘Nothing important?’” She rests her finger on her chin. “It certainly looks very important.”

  “I think I’m going to go lie down for a few minutes.” Harry dries his glasses off on his shirt and slides them into his pocket. I’m not sure if he really needs to lie down or if this is to distract Miranda.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask, standing close by in case he falls over.

  “No thanks, Eli.” His hand rests heavy on my shoulder. “I’m just feeling very tired and would like to lie down.”

  Miranda is taking in the entire scene with a morbid fascination. When she sees me looking at her she raises her eyebrows as though she’s trying to entice me. All I can think is Hell no. She turns and sits back down at my desk.

  “Wise.” Carl nods. “I’m going to meditate in the back bedroom.” He doesn’t wait for an answer.

  The room is cleared out with the exception of McNab and me. “Okay, what’s the deal between you two? Did you have a thing?” I ask McNab point blank.

  “Eli, suffice to say she’s bad news. The worst kind of news. We need to get her out of here A-S-A-P, the sooner the better.” McNab shakes his head. “I had my suspicions about Harry, but now that I see what he's involved in, I know he’s part of something much larger than what we thought. Miranda is just the tip of the iceberg.” He motions for me to follow him to the kitchen. Once there he lowers his tone. “Harry’s obviously in deep with the organization, and Miranda cannot be trusted.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t go into it now, but just trust me. I care about Shay and I want her back here with you safe and sound. Miranda may not be working toward the same end goal.” He looks over my shoulder and turns to get a glass out of the cabinet.