14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

-Jared-

Everything unfolded as planned, a simple text setting our operation in motion as we stormed Louis's place. Gunfire answered our advance, raining down upon us, but we retained the element of surprise, breaching the initial defenses. The gate leading to his house stood wide open, enabling us to drive straight through. The sounds of cracked glass echoed as bullets found their mark, but we were prepared, using the cars as cover to return fire.

Amid the cacophony of bullets, my determination to find Alison intensified. I could sense we were close, every adversary I engaged meeting their inevitable demise.

As I prepared to advance toward the door, a child's scream pierced through the chaos, diverting my attention. I turned to witness a young girl, her colorful attire contrasting with the dark surroundings, fleeing from a menacing figure in pursuit. Caught between the urgency of our mission and the instinct to protect the girl, I hesitated. But as the man closed in on the terrified child, her cries and struggles compelled me to act.

Turning on my heel, I called for cover as I dashed across the front of the house, weaving between parked cars. Unable to fire at the man who held the girl as a shield, I closed the distance, leaving behind the other battle. As I prepared to throw myself at them to free her, the girl sank her teeth into his hand, causing him to yelp in pain and release her. Seizing the opportunity, I took aim and fired.

The bullet found its mark in his head, penetrating before he slumped to the side, taking the girl with him. She screamed once more as his body landed partially on top of her, pinning her down. Despite her struggles, she couldn't free herself from his weight. Rushing to her aid, I swiftly removed the body, prompting her to recoil in fear when she saw me.

"Stay calm. Your grandparents sent me," I reassured her.

"My... what?" she responded, clearly bewildered.

Her confusion was understandable, but I had another life to save tonight.

"Have you seen a beautiful woman around here, perhaps with your father?" I inquired.

"You mean Alison?" she replied.

"Yes."

"Are... Are you her husband?" she whispered.

"I am," I asserted.

"You've come to save her?" she asked, her disbelief obvious.

"I have," I affirmed.

She seemed entranced for a moment, but then her expression shifted to fear.

"What's wrong?" I inquired.

"They took her. Alison helped me, but they took her!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes.

"Where? Who took her?" I pressed, my desperation mounting.

"The men," she revealed, gesturing toward the direction she had come from.

Glancing around briefly, I refocused on the little girl. I couldn't abandon her. Swiftly, I scooped her up, and she clung to my neck, still sobbing. As I glanced over my shoulder, I could see the ongoing fight, realizing our element of surprise was no longer advantageous. The assailants used the house for cover, and our team was being pushed back.

My heart pounded as I glanced toward the house, calling out for Alison. Then, I heard the little girl whimper in my ear.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, pivoting toward the line of cars.

"Fall back!" I bellowed. "Get in the damn cars!"

I lunged for the nearest vehicle, the others following suit. Carelessly, I placed the girl in the passenger seat, disregarding seat belts and safety protocols. Alison had made a choice to save this girl, sacrificing herself in the process. Her decision was clear to me, but I vowed to return for her. Louis wouldn't hold her for long.

Yet, as we peeled away from the scene, guilt gnawed at my heart. I glanced back to see the others following suit, retreating from the hail of bullets. I cursed myself for even considering an alternative course of action. But it was evident that storming the house was futile. I needed a new approach or to track Louis's next move. However, amidst the chaos, I had gained something valuable.

I glanced to the side and saw the little girl looking out the window with a strange expression in her eyes, which made me wonder what sorts of secrets she might be keeping.

I returned home with a few scrapes and minor bullet grazes, having lost a few men in the process. Despite these casualties, we were mostly unscathed. However, there was no cause for celebration. My woman was still in Louis's clutches, and I vowed to make his demise even slower than originally planned.

Upon our return, I didn't immediately dive into planning. Instead, I attended to the little girl, sitting across from her and observing her. She seemed ravenous, devouring the food as if it were the most delicious meal she had ever tasted. Oblivious to my presence, she reached for the soda, appearing puzzled by how to open it. With a gentle gesture, I surprised her by opening the can and handing it to her.

Curiously, she reached out for it again, bringing it closer and sniffing it. Tentatively, she took a sip, then another, before suddenly downing the contents. After recovering, she wiped her lips, a smile creeping across her face.

"Have you never had one before?" I inquired.

She shook her head, returning to her food.

"How come?" I asked.

"They... serve me the same thing," she whispered.

Her response explained her curiosity about the food before her. She had never experienced a different meal. I observed as she pushed aside the vegetables and instead took hearty bites of the meat, not bothering to cut it. She chewed with gusto, reminiscent of an animal, finding joy in the act. A faint smile tugged at my lips as I watched her, recognizing a reflection of myself. Like her, there were many things I hadn't tried as a child due to the nightmares I endured. If I didn't fend for myself, I went hungry. My heart twinged with empathy as I regarded the neglected little girl, despite her obviously being fed.

"What's your name?" I inquired.

"Julia," she replied, pulling back before resuming her meal, breaking off pieces of meat with her dull teeth and eating them with a smile.

"You mentioned you knew my wife," I noted.

She nodded. "We talked a bit. She shared some things about you."

"Is that so?" I said, a smile forming on my own lips. "What did she tell you?"

"She said you were kind and never hurt her like my dad did," she explained.

"He hurt her?" I asked with a noticeable edge in my voice.

Julia nodded, then gestured to her jaw. "She had bruises. She looked like Mom."

"Yes, they do resemble each other," I acknowledged.

"No, she looked like Mom with her bruises."

I sighed, hating that Julia had been exposed to such distressing sights.

"I see," I murmured.

"She wore her clothes too," Julia disclosed.

"Alison?"

"Yes, she wore my mom's clothes."

"Oh, shit," I whispered, struggling to contain my anger. But then Julia's expression shifted to one of intense sadness, tears welling up in her eyes.

Turning to her, I was uncertain what had triggered this sudden change.

"Alison mentioned... Alison mentioned something about her... Is it true?" Julia whispered.

"Is what true?" I inquired, puzzled by her fragmented speech.

"Is my mom dead?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

I wasn't surprised that Alison had connected the dots herself. Louis was a brutal bastard, so it wouldn't have been difficult for Alison to make that assumption.

"Julia…"

"Please, don't lie. I don't want more lies," she pleaded.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yes, your mom is dead."

She sniffled, reaching for the soda and taking a sip. She looked so tiny in the dining chair I had placed her in, and I hated seeing how she struggled with the obvious pain. But she was a survivor, through and through.

"How?" she whispered.

"I don't think you want to know."

"Please, tell me," she pleaded.

I sighed, realizing that Julia couldn't be sheltered from the harsh realities of this world. She had already witnessed too much.

"It was your dad," I admitted.

"W-What did he do?" she whispered.

"He... He killed her," I replied.

A low gasp escaped her lips, but instead of succumbing to her sorrow, she seemed to shut down, a coping mechanism I recognized all too well.

"Will... Will he hurt Alison now? The same way?" she asked, her voice tinged with fear.

"I won't let him. I'll bring her back before anything happens," I vowed.

She nodded solemnly. "I don't want her to die."

"She won't. I won't fail her," I assured her.

As she absentmindedly played with the soda can, I seized the opportunity to gather more information.

"Julia, do you happen to know of any other places your father might go to hide?" I inquired.

She paused, deep in thought, then nodded.

"Yeah?" I prompted.

"Mom had a favorite house," she revealed. "I used to go there sometimes, when he allowed us to."

"A vacation home?"

"Her house. She said it was hers," Julia clarified.

"Did she buy it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "She said it was a gift."

"From whom?" I pressed.

She shrugged, sparking a thought.

"Julia, were there any other men in your mom's life? Maybe someone who bought her gifts?" I asked, hoping to uncover more leads.

Julia shook her head. "Just Dad."

"What about your grandparents?"

"Grandparents?" she echoed, perplexed.

"Yes, grandparents. You didn't know you had any?" I clarified.

"I don't remember any," she replied.

"Your mom never took you to see them?"

"We weren't allowed to leave without Dad's permission," she explained.

"I see. And no one came to visit?" I pressed.

"I wasn't allowed in his meetings," she answered.

I groaned, leaning forward and rubbing my eyes in frustration.

"Have I upset you?" she asked timidly.

I lifted my head, taken aback. "What?"

"You seem... disappointed," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did I say something wrong?"

Her trembling form and downcast eyes revealed her worry, and I quickly composed myself.

"No, you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just tired of being away from my wife. We're not used to being apart for long," I confessed. "I miss her a lot."

"I'm sorry," she said, tears welling up again.

"For what?"

She sniffled. "I was too slow getting down the rope..."

"Julia..." I started, but she interrupted.

"I'm the reason they caught her. I was too slow," she cried.

Shaking my head, I reassured her. "No, you weren't too slow. They were just faster. But I will get her back, and I'll need your help."

She wiped her nose with her sleeve, looking at me with confusion.

"How?" she asked.

"I need you to tell me about that house," I said. "I need to know if your father might take my wife there."

"I don't remember where it is."

"Could you describe it?" I prompted.

She nodded. "I think so."

"Then I can try to sketch it based on your description."

"You can draw it? From my memory?"

"Yes," I affirmed.

Her determination grew. "Do we do it now?"

I wanted to say yes, eager to start immediately, but as I observed Julia's exhausted appearance, I couldn't bring myself to push her further tonight. There was something about her that made me feel a strange connection, and I didn't want to overburden her.

"Tomorrow. We'll start tomorrow. I'm sure you're tired," I decided.