Chapter 12

Jason

I believed Rita when she told me in confidence that there was something off about Audrey lately. I believed her because I noticed it, too. Audrey is growing more distant. Canceling dates, citing work reasons. We haven't been texting as often as we used to, either. The few hours we do get to spend together have been noticeably more intense. It's as if she relishes every moment for as long as she can before we have to part ways.

And every time I bid her farewell, I feel this nerve tugging in the back of my head, this concern that it could be the last time I see her. Audrey was ready to skip town once; I wouldn't put it past her to try it again.

"You seem upset," Rita says, coming back from Lily's bedroom.

"How's my munchkin doing?" I ask, trying to change the subject as I stare at a bottle of whiskey left on the coffee table. I took it out earlier, planning to down a glass or two before hitting the sack, but I've been dealing with one work-related call after another. I don't exactly welcome business calls after I leave the office, yet I admit I needed the distraction tonight. "Is she asleep?"

"Sawing logs as we speak," Rita replies, half-smiling. "That was smart, signing her up for soccer. I didn't think she'd have that much energy left after school, but I guess I was wrong."

"She is the atomic child," I chuckle softly. "Besides, she may be a piano virtuoso, but I want to make sure she never neglects her physical well-being. A healthy mind in a healthy body is unstoppable."

"Oh, I wholeheartedly agree. Besides, you should've seen her running around, trying to get the ball from the other kids. Of course, it was absolute chaos trying to organize five-to-seven-year-olds on the soccer field. It was also hilarious. But you got your money's worth because I'm pretty sure Lily won't be up before six in the morning."

"Good. She'll get used to it. Would you like a drink, Rita? I'd like one, and that bottle keeps eyeing me tonight," I sigh heavily as I grab two tumbler glasses from the bar and take a seat on the sofa.

Rita nods once and settles in the armchair beside it. "What's bothering you, Mr. Winchester?"

"Honestly, I keep going back to your concern about Audrey," I say as I pour the whiskey, staring at the golden liquid for a while before speaking again. "You're right, she's … off. She's been off for a while."

"She's not the kind to easily open up to other people," she replies and takes a long sip of whiskey while I swirl mine in its glass. "Which tells me she was badly hurt in the past by people she trusted and cared for the most. That's not an easy thing to get over. I recognize that wary look in her eyes. It's hard to miss."

"Fair enough. But I haven't given her reason to doubt or fear me."

"True. I don't think it's about you, though, Mr. Winchester. I think it's about her and about how much she's willing to do for this relationship," Rita says. "Audrey did mention that you are, in fact, the first man that she has ever been with. She's been on her own up to this point, and that alone should tell you everything you need to know in order to better understand her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's scared, Mr. Winchester. Something happened to her, something so bad that it made her leave her hometown. You know she's not originally from Chicago, right?"

I give Rita a startled look. "Audrey never mentioned that. But then again, I never asked. I just assumed she was from here." I pause and briefly go over our past conversations, realizing that I did most of the talking and sharing. "Honestly, she's not mentioned much about her past. Especially anything about her family other than the fact that they were very strict and that they could be cruel and cold-hearted. She's got a dad and two brothers, but they're estranged. Her mother died when she was little. And that's about it. Suddenly, I'm seeing it in a whole new light. Wow."

"It's all right," Rita says. "Audrey is either ashamed or afraid of her family, that much I can tell you."

"Again, I have to ask, how do you know?"

She shrugs softly, taking another sip of her whiskey. Her brow furrows for a brief moment. It's not often she drinks hard liquor, but she has chosen to indulge me tonight. "I've come across a lot of people over the years, Mr. Winchester. I've seen suffering of all kinds, and I'm positive that Audrey is simply trying to keep the past in the past, as far away from her present and her future as possible."

"You would've made one hell of shrink, Rita, I have to say," I groan, leaning back into the sofa. For some reason, as much as I've been eyeing this whiskey ever since I got home, I'm still not tempted to bring the glass up to my lips.

"I'm just a good listener. People tell you things without actually saying anything. You know that, as well, from your time in the service."

"True, but I was looking out for traitors and insurgents. I didn't have to scan my girlfriend's body language."

"I think her heart is in the right place. Perhaps she just needs more time to learn to fully trust you. I'm sure she wants to trust you. I've seen the two of you together. Audrey is emotionally invested; she has profound feelings for you. And I can tell that you adore her, as well. But you both have different kinds of baggage that you're bringing into this relationship. Yours is more straightforward. Hers, well, it needs a bit more unpacking."

"I would like to be able to help her unpack," I mutter, setting the glass back down on the coffee table. "I have a constant, nagging feeling that Audrey might try running off again. If only I knew the reason. Why is she keeping one foot out the door?"

Rita thinks about it for a moment, glancing out the living room window. Somewhere below, a sea of taillights echoes in a red glow against the glass panes. "I presume you've already checked Audrey's history?"

"There's not much to check. Up until two years ago, she hardly existed," I reply. "I should dig deeper. Maybe hire a PI or something."

"Wouldn't that be an invasion of Audrey's privacy?"

"It could be, yes. But what other choice do I have? Every time I ask her something about her past, every time I try to learn more about her, Audrey just shuts down. She finds a reason to leave early, and I end up sulking and feeling like a fool for asking perfectly reasonable questions. You're right, Rita. I do have feelings for her, and I love how well she gets along with Lily. To be honest, it's been a while since I've felt this way about a woman, but a man in my position … there are things I absolutely need to know before I can allow the relationship to progress."

"I understand. Perhaps be discreet in your investigative endeavor?"

"Oh, definitely," I nod with confidence. "I'll get one of my former Army buddies to—" I pause as an alarm goes off on my phone. "Hold on."

Rita stays quiet while I check the screen.

My heart starts racing as soon as I tap on the blaring notification. My skin tightens all over, beads of sweat blooming on my temples as I go over the live CCTV footage coming in from Audrey's building. A few moments pass before I'm able to spot the issue, but as soon as I see it, I jump from my seat.

"Mr. Winchester, what's wrong?" Rita asks, understandably worried.

"I installed a silent alarm system in Audrey's apartment, just in case anything happened," I tell her, my voice low and uneven with uncontrollable emotion. "If anybody broke down the door, for example, I'd get an immediate alert on my phone. I didn't put any cameras in her place—that would've been an invasion of her privacy—but the alarm system is rigged to the entire building, and it also gives me access to The Emerald's CCTV feed."

"Okay, so what happened? Is Audrey all right?"

"I'm not sure. CCTV footage just caught two big fellas, clad all in black with guns, heading up the stairs," I explain. "I have to go."

Rita gasps. "Oh my gosh! Do you need me to call 911?"

"Please, and patch them straight to my cell number if they need any more details. Advise them that I carry a licensed weapon. Tell them who I am and what I'm wearing, just in case, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Winchester."

I grab my keys and fly out of my penthouse and down the stairs, rushing to my car, struggling to keep a clear mind while consistently aware of two armed men in Audrey's building.

Fucking hell.

I drive like a bolt of lightning through the city. To my astonishment, I haven't picked up a single cop along the way. Then again, it's late, and the streets are mostly empty. Besides, I'm expecting at least a few squad cars to pull up to The Emerald as soon as I get there.

The engine roars as I floor it.

The wheels screech in agony as I take a tight left turn with a smoking drift at the last couple of inches, reaching The Emerald just in time to catch a glimpse of two shadows slipping into the side alley next to the building. I jump out of my car and start running after them as I hear Audrey's screams muffled by the two men dragging her away.

Sirens wail in the distance. I spot the getaway car parked just behind a large industrial dumpster on the right side of the narrow alley.

"Hey!" I shout after the men.

They're too busy struggling to keep Audrey subdued to immediately hear or notice me coming. Something happens within me that I haven't experienced since serving on active duty since that wretched night outside Kabul. My stomach churns but my blood pumps red hot and fast through my veins, heat loosening my joints while the instant shot of adrenaline courses and makes my heels a lot lighter.

Immediately, I take note of the surroundings.

The cops are definitely on their way, but they're still a couple of minutes out. Minutes I can't afford to lose. The street outside The Emerald is empty. The alley is dark and dirty, used mostly by the delivery trucks servicing the pastry and coffee shops just across the street.

I notice that the getaway car is a dark blue sedan with Minnesota plates. Likely stolen.

The two men are big and burly, dressed in black jeans and black leather jackets, black balaclava masks covering their heads. From their hands, I see they're both white. I remember that they're armed, but they're busy with Audrey, who's making herself incredibly hard to subdue despite being half their size. My heart clenches when I notice she's in her pink jammies.

They must've broken into her apartment while she was asleep or just about to doze off; otherwise, she probably would've had more opportunity to make more noise. Maybe the neighbors would've heard her. Someone would've come out of their apartment or called the cops.

"HEY!" I shout again, louder this time, my gun in my hand and ready to fire if I have to.

I swore I'd never fire another bullet outside of active duty.

One of the men spots me and says something to the other, something I can't understand. It's in Russian. What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Audrey?

She hears my shouts. "Jason, NO!" she screams through the black bag that covers her head. Her wrists are bound with cable ties, but her legs are free, and she is squirming and simultaneously kicking as much as she can, making it harder for the men to control her. "They have guns!"

I'm aware of that, but I don't care.

I can only focus on my mission, which is to get her away from her captors alive and unharmed. The first guy takes charge of Audrey while the other one stops and turns to face me. Before he can reach for his gun, however, I charge him and tackle him with my full body weight.

"Argh!" he grunts as we both land on the cold, hard pavement.

He throws a punch, and I give him back two, but he elbows me in the jaw, and my head starts spinning.

I end up on my side.

He shoots back to his feet, groaning from the pain but trying to kick me in the stomach. I roll away and pull my gun out. The first guy notices me drawing down on him and tosses Audrey against the car, taking out his weapon as well. Everything happens so fast that I'm not even sure where my reason ends and my instincts begin.

POP.

He fires a shot and misses.

POP.

I fire one back, and Audrey screams as she drops on all fours, dodging a potential stray bullet as the Russian prick takes more precise aim the second time around. But because I'm constantly moving, he misses me.

POP.

The guy I tackled stumbles away when I briefly point my gun at him. He barks another order in Russian, and the two of them quickly get into the car and drive off, their tires screeching while Audrey is left behind on the ground, crying and screaming her head off.

Blue and red lights flash brightly behind me, and the sound of sirens fills the air.

The police are finally here.

"Audrey!" I gasp and holster my gun as I rush over to her.

She's shaking like a leaf, dirty, scratched, and bloody. I pull the bag off her head to find her with puffy, crying eyes and quivering lips, a look of horror having drained the color from her face. "Oh, Jason … Oh, God …" she manages.

"Fucking hell, Audrey, are you all right?" I ask, scanning her from top to bottom.

"Yeah. I think so. How'd you get here so fast?"

"It doesn't matter. Who were those guys? What happened?"

Boots thud across the pavement. Uniformed police officers swarm the scene, pouring into the alley with their guns out. A flurry of orders and instructions are being shouted, muttered words that make little to no sense to me. The cops have questions, and Audrey immediately shuts down, her gaze lost somewhere in space.

Shock is setting in.

I have questions, too. So many fucking questions, I don't even know where to start.

But I am also shaken to the core. My fingers are trembling, and my body burns hot from anger and fear; I feel dangerously close to snapping.

I almost lost Audrey tonight.

Who were those people? What did they want? And how the hell is Audrey involved with them?