Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Lyon gripped his phone tightly, his knuckles turning white as the voice on the other end came through.

"We've found where Kathryn is," the voice said.

Lyon stopped dead in his tracks. His heartbeat felt like it had jumped to his throat. "Where?" he said sharply, his voice low but steady.

"An old warehouse just outside the city," the voice continued, pausing for a second. "But Lyon… it's Wendy. She's not working alone. There's something off about everything.”

Lyon’s mind raced, staring straight at the empty space ahead of him. Wendy. Of course. “Wendy’s cunning. This isn’t going to be simple, but, it will.” Lyon muttered to himself. He exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to keep his rage in check.

“Listen, make more investigation. Keep a close eye on Wendy. I’ll be there in two hours.”

“Understood.” The line went dead.

Lyon lowered the phone and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the storm coming up inside him. When he opened them again, they were cold and sharp.

There wasn’t a second to waste. He turned on his heel and strode to the check-in counter.

“Ticket to the next flight out,” Lyon said, his voice commanding.

As he sat in the boarding lounge, his knee bounced restlessly.

Every second felt like an eternity. Every thought, every image that flashed in his mind only drove him madder.

Kathryn, alone.

Kathryn in danger.

The way she smiled at him last before all of this happened. He gritted his teeth and stared straight ahead with his jaw locked. He’d get to her.

---

Inside the dark warehouse, Kathryn sat slumped forward in the chair, her head hanging low. Feeling pains in her wrists.

She didn’t know how long it had been, minutes, hours, or days. Her body felt heavy, like lead, and her eyelids struggled to stay open.

“Ouch!” Kathryn’s cry pierced the cold warehouse.

Wendy yanked her hair back, forcing her head to tilt upward. Her scalp stung, the sharp pain spreading through her skull. Kathryn’s breathing was uneven, her chest heaving as tears pooled in her eyes.

“Wendy, please,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. Her face was pale, sweat dotting her forehead from stress, her body trembling under the strain.

Wendy crouched in front of her, smiling like a cat playing with its prey. “Look at you. Weak, helpless. Not so confident now, are you?” She grabbed Kathryn’s face, squeezing her cheeks roughly, making her cry more.

“Do you think anyone’s coming for you? Lyon’s probably busy saving his own skin while you rot here with me.”

“Wendy, stop it!” James’ voice thundered from the corner of the room. He was tied to a chair, his hands bruised and swollen from struggling against the ropes. His face was flushed with anger, his teeth clenched as he watched Wendy torment Kathryn.

“Can’t you see she’s pregnant?! You’re going to hurt her!”

Wendy turned her head slowly, her smirk widening as she let go of Kathryn and rose to her feet. She walked toward James, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Oh, James.” She smiled sweetly as she crouched next to him, close enough that he could smell her perfume, suffocating and sharp. “You think I care about her precious little baby?” She tilted her head, her voice soft but chilling. “If anything, that makes this more fun for me.”

“Wendy, you’re out of your mind,” James spat, his chest heaving with rage. “If anything happens to her, if you hurt her…Lyon will….”

“Lyon, Lyon, Lyon,” Wendy cut him off, her tone mocking, but her smile faltered, a flicker of something dark and bitter flashing in her eyes. She straightened abruptly, her face twisting with anger. “I hate the sound of his name!”

Without warning, she slapped James hard across the face. The crack of the hit echoed through the room, making Kathryn flinch in her chair. James’ head snapped to the side, his cheek instantly reddening, but his eyes remained fierce, glaring up at her.

“You’ll regret this, Wendy,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. “You think you’re in control, but Lyon, he’ll come for her. You won’t get away with this.”

Wendy’s expression darkened. “Oh, shut up.” She slapped him again, harder this time, leaving a bright red mark across his face. James grunted but didn’t look away. He just breathed heavily, watching her like a wolf ready to pounce despite being caged.

Dusting herself up, as though there was dust in her clothes, Wendy turned on her heel and walked toward the door. “You’re both so dramatic,” she said flatly, running a hand through her hair. She glanced back at Kathryn, still tied and shaking, her breathing shallow.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’ll all be over soon.”

The door creaked open, and Wendy stepped out, slamming it shut behind her. The sound echoed through the empty space, leaving an eerie silence.

All Kathryn could hear was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she swallowed the sob in her throat.

“James…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

James shifted in his chair, his hands still working against the ropes. “Kathryn, listen to me,” he said, his voice quieter now but steady, reassuring. “You’re not alone. Lyon will come. He’ll find us. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

Kathryn nodded weakly, her eyes drifting closed for a moment as she tried to steady her breathing.

———

Martins pulled the car into the driveway, killing the engine with a sigh. Trisha stepped out first, her movements slower than usual, like the weight of the day had settled in her bones. Martins followed, shutting the door gently, though his face was anything but calm.

The moment Fiona spotted them through the kitchen window, she rushed outside, apron still on, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of it. She practically ran toward them.

“Any news?” she asked, her voice sharp with desperation. Her eyes darted between Martins and Trisha, searching for hope in their expressions.

Martins rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze for a second. “Yes…” he said finally, though his tone didn’t bring comfort. “But not really.”

Fiona froze in place. Her heart seemed to stop as her hands fell to her sides. “What does that mean? Tell me,” she said, her voice now softer, but somehow even more broken.

Trisha stepped closer to her, her face tired and lined with worry. “We know where Kathryn is,” she said gently, like she was afraid to say it too loud. “But, we don't know how to get to her right now.”

Fiona blinked, tears welling up in her eyes. “Don't know how?” she repeated, the words barely escaping her lips. She turned her back for a second, pressing her hands to her face as a sob broke through. “Oh no… oh no…”

“Fiona.” Martins’ voice came calm but steady. He stepped toward her. “Listen to me. We’re not giving up, okay? There’s a team out there, even the secret agencies, Lyon’s people, everyone’s looking. We’re going to get her back.”

Trisha quickly placed a hand on Fiona’s shoulder, grounding her. “I know it’s hard,” she said softly, crouching slightly to look her in the eye. “But panicking won’t help Kathryn. Lyon’s doing everything he can. You know how much she means to him. He won’t stop.”

Fiona sniffed, wiping her face with the edge of her apron. “But what if, what if something happens to her before we find her? What if we’re already too late?” Her voice cracked, and fresh tears escaped.

“Hey,” Trisha said firmly, shaking her shoulder a little, making Fiona look at her. “Don’t think like that. Kathryn’s strong. She’ll hold on until we get to her. She will. And we’re not letting her down.”

Fiona took a shaky breath, her face still streaked with tears.

“She needs us to stay strong. If we break down here, we’re no good to her out there.” Martins said, his voice soothing.

Fiona nodded faintly, sniffling as she wiped her eyes again. “You’re right… you’re right. I’ll hold on.” She paused, glancing back toward the house. “I’ll..uh…I’ll make some tea or something. You two look tired.”

“Tea sounds good,” Martins said, offering her a smile, though his eyes still carried the same weight.

Fiona turned back to the house, her steps slower this time, as though every ounce of energy had been drained from her.

Once she disappeared inside, Trisha leaned against the car, letting out a heavy breath as she stared at the ground.

“You okay?” Martins asked after a beat, his voice low, careful.

Trisha shook her head, brushing her hair back from her face. “No,” she muttered honestly. “But I will be when Kathryn’s back.”

Martins nodded silently, turning to stare at the empty street, his jaw tight.

Trisha and Martins' motioned to the living room, at least to rest their legs.

Soon, Fiona returned with two glasses filled with tea, “here..” she handed them over.

“Thank you, Fiona,” Trisha and Martins’ voices came through evenly.

Martins' phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the silence. He glanced down, picked it up quickly. "Yes, sir... I'll be right there." His voice was clipped, urgent. He shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his keys off table.

“Where are you going?” Trisha's voice broke through. She was on her feet now, eyes narrowing at him.

Martins turned, already halfway to the door.

“I’m coming with you.” Trisha was already moving, her tone final like she wasn’t asking, she was telling.

Martins stopped in his tracks, turned to her. “No. Trisha, no. You can’t.”

“I can,” she shot back, stepping closer, her arms folding. “And I will.”

“Trisha…” Martins sighed, gripping the keys in his hand. He looked at her, really looked at her, she was stubborn, fire burning in her eyes, and he knew she wouldn’t back down easily. “You have to stay. It’s not safe.”

Trisha’s brows shot up, her voice sharp. “Safe? You think I care about safe right now? Kathryn is missing, Lyon isn't here right now, and you’re just going to run off and leave me here? To do what exactly? Sit and stare at the walls?”

“I need someone here,” Martins said firmly, his voice low but steady, trying to calm her storm.

“For what?” Trisha pushed. “To sit and watch Fiona cry? To pace the floor while you go out and do something? No, Martins. I’m coming.”

Martins closed his eyes for half a second, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep calm. “Trisha…” He stepped closer, his voice softer now. “I need you to trust me, okay? Just this once.”

Trisha scoffed. “Trust you? I do trust you, Martins, but I’m tired of feeling useless. I can’t just…”

“Hey,” Martins cut her off, his tone softer but firm. He stepped even closer, looking straight into her eyes now. “This isn’t about you being useless. It’s not. You’ve been strong through all of this, but right now…” He hesitated, choosing his words. “Right now, being here is just as important as being out there.”

Trisha stared at him, her lips parting slightly like she wanted to argue again, but she didn’t.

“Listen to me,” Martins continued. “Fiona’s in pieces, and someone needs to keep things together. If anything happens, if Wendy or whoever tries something, someone has to step up. You’re that someone.”

Her gaze faltered, her arms loosening from their stubborn fold.

“Trisha,” Martins added, his voice gentler, like he was pleading with her now. “I need you to be my backup here. I need to know someone I trust is here while I’m out there.”

She swallowed, her shoulders dropping slightly. “But what if something happens to Kathryn?” she whispered. “What am I to do then?”

Martins didn’t answer for a moment. He just looked at her, something heavy in his eyes, before he said quietly, “Nothing’s going to happen to her”