Driven By Love (17 page)

Even with the dry clothes and two hot cups of coffee, Dean couldn’t shake the chill that plagued him. He kept reaching out for Anne. “Come on, baby. Give me a sign.” Normally he felt a warm tingle when he thought about the person he wanted to track, then the room they were in, followed by a location that he could see like looking at a map. He got nothing when he thought of Anne. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down on one of Jeri’s wooden bar stools in the kitchen.

Keith grabbed a cup out of the cabinet and poured himself some of the coffee from the coffee maker.

“Just got off the phone with Stan,” he said as he grabbed another bar stool and sat down. “They have not found the ambulance or any sign of Anne.”

“Son of a …” Dean got up and paced around the kitchen. Anger filled every nerve of his body and he just wanted to lash out.

“I’ve sent the word out to everyone I know to keep an eye out for her.”

Dean stopped and wrapped his fingers around the kitchen chair and squeezed. His fingers ached, but it didn’t help dull the pain he felt at losing Anne. He usually could sense someone from miles and miles away. She must be unconscious or … Dean shook his head as he remembered the feeling he felt after one of the terrorists he tracked was killed.
Don’t go there,
he screamed at his mind.

Sensing Dean’s inner turmoil, Keith walked over to him and placed his hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find her, Dean. I’ve got some friends who are looking deeper into her past to see who would want to abduct her.”

“Keith, I can’t feel her.”

Keith’s eyebrow went up. “She actually let you tag her?”

He looked up at his friend, he knew that he could trust him unconditionally. “Keith, she has a special power.”

Keith’s expression grew serious. “What kind?”

“She can control cars.”

“As in make them do things she wants?”

“Exactly. I’m afraid someone found out about this and wants to use her.”

“Shit. This is more than just a seriously obsessed stalker, then.”

Dean pushed the chair away and paced the room again like a lion trapped in a cage. “I swear if I find the bastard that took her, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.” He swatted at a hanging ivy plant.

“And I’ll be there to help,” Keith told him as he crossed his arms.

The front door opened and they heard Jeri’s voice as she talked on the phone. “Hang on he’s here. Dean, it’s Daniel. He’s got some information for you.”

He grabbed the phone from her. “Tell me some good news, Daniel.”

“I’m not sure if it’s good news, but it’s something you might want to know.”

“Hang on, I want my friend Keith to hear this. He’s helping me track down Anne.” He pressed the speaker on and held it up. “What have you got for us?”

“I started digging around and I found something interesting. Remember Marshall Foss?”

Dean stiffened when he heard the name. “What about him?”

“Well, he bought a house out on Mackinac Island right around the time Anne started filming in St. Joe.”

“Sounds like just a coincidence,” Keith said as he leaned against the countertop.

“Yes, but according to Missy, Anne told her that he was terrified of water or being anywhere near water because he was caught in a major storm years ago and almost died.”

“So why would he buy a house on an island that is surrounded by something that reminds him of death?” Jeri chimed in.

“Daniel, text me the address and we’ll go check it out.” Keith told him.

“Sure thing. I found something else, too. I traced his phone records and found that he called the same person around the same time as Missy’s accident and when Anne almost got abducted and right before Anne’s disappearance. Someone by the name of Enrique Diaz.”

Keith noticeably stiffened. “That’s one of Emelio’s aliases.”

“We’re going to pay the bastard a visit after we find Anne,” Dean muttered as he handed Jeri her phone and went into his room to pack.

Jeri thanked Daniel and hung up the phone as she walked over to Dean's room.

“Dean, it takes hours to get there.” Her voice was filled with concern. “And you can’t fly because of the high winds.”

“We’ll take Hawk. He’ll get us there in no time.” He grabbed a shirt and stuffed it into his bag.

Keith followed him. “Dean, we’re going to have to call in a few favors…”

“Wait!” he told him as he stopped and stared at the wall. He felt a very faint warm feeling. As he closed his eyes, he focused on the familiar feeling. The warmth that surrounded him and the stubborn resistance come through to him. It was Anne. She was alive! He focused again and narrowed his thoughts on her and her location. North, way north, past a bridge, deep inside on an island, big white Victorian house, upper bedroom.

His eyes flashed open and he looked right at Keith. “She’s alive and she’s on an island. We can’t wait.”

“My gear’s already in the car,” Keith told him as he headed out the door.

“Put it in Hawk.” He knew that Hawk would get them there the fastest. “And I’m driving.” Duffel bag in hand, he busted out the front door.

Jeri walked out on the porch and looked concerned for her brother. He practically ran over to Hawk as the trunk popped open and he put in his bag.

Keith squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find her and bring her back. I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Keith promised her.

“Thank you, Keith. You are really a great friend.”

She wrapped her arms around him. Dean frowned at them, but he didn’t have time to worry about what their relationship really was all about.

Keith dug into his jacket and grabbed his keys. His car’s trunk opened and he walked over and picked up his bag. Hawk was already running and Dean was behind the wheel ready to drive out like a bat out of hell. As soon as Keith’s gear was in his trunk and his door was closed. Dean peeled the tires and sped away.

Nausea hit her as she tried to open her eyes. Her muscles ached as her head spun in so many different directions. Was she on Dean’s boat?

“Dean?”

Her question went unanswered, and she tried to open her eyes. The rain pounded the window, which resonated in her head and made her start to gag as her stomach twisted and turned even more. As she buried her head in her pillow, she moaned and tried to slow her breathing to ease her misery.

Still, her mind reeled in a million directions. Where was she? What happened to her? The last thing she remembered was getting her makeup done and then everything went dark.

Dean. The terror in his voice made her heart sink in fear. She could have sworn that he held her when the darkness hit.

Hawk? Her tendrils of energy reached out and searched for him to help her pull that familiar flow that would heal her. Emptiness found her, and she forced the energy further away to find any kind of automotive energy that she could harness. Nothing. There was nothing out there.

Panic struck her as her mind tried to comprehend where she was.

Get up.
She forced her body out of bed and pried her eyes open to look at her surroundings. Pain filled her vision as she saw the quaint Victorian-era room she was in. A white make-up table with a mirror was on the other side of the room and a dresser stood next to it. Two windows were on the opposite side of the room and had veils of water running down them.

She swung her legs to the side of the bed. They felt like boiled spaghetti and shook as she propped herself up and hobbled towards the window to look outside. Where was she? The constant flow of water across the window blinded her from anything outside. Her weak knees shook and brought her down to the floor. As she looked at the window, she forced herself to kneel, and she pushed up the window to open it, but it was useless. Her hand clasped the window molding, and she pulled herself up and ran her hand across the middle to unlock the window. To her surprise, there was no lock and she felt the slight outline of nail heads on the corner of the windows.

“Great.” Whoever wanted her wanted to keep her bad. Her body sank down on the floor and she leaned against the wall. She willed her pain-stricken eyes to scan the room for anything she could use as a weapon. Besides the canopy bed and the dresser and chair, the room was otherwise bare.

She took a couple deep breaths and
grabbed hold of the window molding to lift herself up. She cursed her dragging feet as she slowly made her way towards the chair next to the dresser. A loud sigh escaped from her lips when she sat down. Where were all the cars? She needed their energy desperately. When she caught her breath, she ripped open the small drawers and looked through the contents. Foundation, mascara, cotton balls, hair clips, brush,… everything to make her pretty but nothing to make her deadly. When she looked in the mirror, she nearly screamed before she realized she was looking at herself. If she was preparing for a role as a vampire she would have nailed it down.

The rattle of the doorknob broke her thoughts. She mustered all her strength and willed her legs to stand up as she held on to the back of the chair. There was no way she was going to face her captor sitting down.

With an obnoxious creak, the door opened and Marshall Foss slithered in with a smile on his face.

“Sweetheart, you’re awake! You still feel ill?” He gently closed the door behind him and walked towards her.

“M-marshall? What…” She felt relief but also was confused.

“Where am I?”

He stopped in the middle of the room and spun. “Sweetheart, you don’t remember? You were abducted and I rescued you and brought you here to recover. You’ve got everything here that you need, and I’m here to help you.”

“Where is my family? Where is my bodyguard?” Her knuckles started to turn white as she squeezed the top of the chair to calm the waves that formed in her stomach.

“Oh, love, you don’t need them. I’m here to take care of you. I love you.”

“Love me?”
He loved her?
There was nothing she said or ever did to make him think she felt the same. She had to let him down easy.

“Marshall, that is so sweet, but I don’t feel the same about you.” Her hands kept squeezing the chair. “If you do care about me, then you’ll take me back to my family.”

He slithered close to her and gently touched her cheek. “Oh, my sweet beauty, they don’t love you as much as I do.” He leaned closer towards her and whispered, “I’d kill for us to be together, my sweet. That is true love.”

Kill?
A cold chill went through her body and she stepped away from him. This was not the man that she once called a friend. This was a psychopath she needed to get away from. The confusion she felt moments ago now erupted into rage. “Killing isn’t an act of love, Marshall. It’s a cry for psychiatric help!” Before she knew it, she had the chair she held a minute ago airborne and hit Marshall in the back, which stunned him enough for her to stumble to the door and bolt out into the hallway.

She found a staircase which led downstairs. The shaking of her legs caused her to stumble down the stairs to the bottom. Pain filled her whole body as she struggled to pull herself up again. She struggled to clear the fog from her eyes as she looked around for a door. She stumbled into a hallway, where she saw what looked like the main door. The exhaustion in her legs caused them to buckle under her, and her arm hit a table on the way down.

“Guards!” Marshall screamed from above.

NO! Get up!
She told her body as pain entered in every form.
We have to get out!
She pushed herself against the wall when her legs failed to lift her. Two sets of strong hands lifted her up off the ground. There was no way she could fight off these two bodyguards.

“Let me go! Do you even know who I am?” she screamed at them as she tried to wiggle free from their grip.

“Where do you want her, Mr. Foss?” one of them asked.

“Bring her back upstairs,” he said with some irritation in his voice as he walked down the stairs.

As they dragged her up the stairs, Anne saw the irritation in Marshall’s face turn to concern when he saw her badly banged-up body.

“Darling, why did you do that? That’s not the way you treat your lover.”

“Lover!? You’re not my lover!” she spat back.

“Oh, of course I am. You must have hit your head when you fell down. Take her back upstairs to the bedroom.” His cold, clammy fingers caressed her face as he whispered, “You’ll learn to like me and you’ll realize what we have is truly love. Now, go on upstairs and take a nap. You look so tired. I’ll have the chef cook something up for you.”

The eerie calm in his voice caused goosebumps to form down her spine. With rough movements, the men brought her back to the room and threw her on the bed, then locked the door behind them.

The rose-plastered wallpaper on the ceiling started to become hazy as tears filled her eyes from both the pain and the despair. What the hell was Marshall planning for her? What did he do to her? Where was Hawk, and why didn’t she feel any other cars?

Panic filled her as she felt her body getting weaker by the minute. If she didn’t get close to a car soon she didn’t know what would happen. She’d never gone this long without their energy before. Would she slip into a coma? She might.

Dean will find me.
At the thought of him, her heart leaped in joy. There was never a time in her life when she felt as vulnerable as she did right now. All the money and power she had wouldn’t help her at that point. The only hope she had was that Dean would find her.