Chapter 36 Unseen And Found
ELENA
The men entered.
I pressed myself against the cold steel of the storage shelves, my breath coming in shallow and measured exhales. The room was freezing, and every second felt like an eternity as the men walked in.
Their footsteps were heavy, and I could hear their boots clanking against the tiled floor. There were two of them, maybe more. Their voices were low, but I could hear their murmurs.
"Where the hell is it?" one of them grumbled.
"It should be here," the other responded. "The boss said it was in cold storage."
I kept my body still, but my mind was racing. Thankfully, they weren't looking for John West. Well, not specifically. They were looking for something.
One of them walked over to the cold drawers, checking the labels.
I held my breath.
Then, without a care, they yanked one of the metal trays out.
A corpse slid into view.
"There he is."
I bit my lip to keep myself from making a sound.
With a grunt, one of the men grabbed the body by the shoulders, and the other took the feet. Without ceremony, they hauled it out of the storage unit and let it drop onto the floor with a dull thud.
I barely stifled a wince.
They didn't even notice that John West's body was still out.
Nor did they notice the shadow of a person lying on the other end of the room.
"Take what you need," one of them muttered.
A few moments passed silently.
Then.
"Got it," the second man replied.
"Good. Let's move."
Just like that, they left.
The heavy door swung shut behind them, sealing me once again in the bitter cold.
I counted to ten, then twenty before I dared to move.
Carefully, I uncurled myself from the cramped space I'd hidden in and pulled myself up.
I needed to get out. Now.
With hurried but silent steps, I pushed open the door and slipped into the hallway.
Later on,
The moment I stepped out of the morgue, the stench and the thought of what I'd seen inside the cold room hit me with full force.
The rot, the chemical sterilization, the stagnant air—it was too much.
A violent wave of nausea rolled through my stomach.
I shut my eyes painfully.
I was going to throw up.
I barely made it to the nearest restroom before I heaved.
The cold porcelain of the sink pressed against my forehead as I tried to catch my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing the combination of morning sickness and the horrific stench of the morgue.
This was the worst time for my body to betray me.
I needed to leave the place immediately before anyone realized their uniform and working gear had been stolen.
After rinsing my mouth, I wiped my face and straightened up.
I needed to pull myself together.
Coffee. I needed something warm, something strong.
Ah, shit.
I was pregnant. I didn't need coffee. It wasn't good for the baby.
But still, I needed something to make me feel like myself again.
I had to settle for something less strong than coffee but equally satisfying.
Meanwhile,
It had been over thirty minutes since I left the morgue. I was halfway through my first sip when my phone rang.
Riley.
I hesitated for only a second before answering.
"Riley?"
"Elena, Jesus, finally," Riley's voice came through, exasperated. "Where the hell are you?"
"Somewhere safe," I said.
"Bullshit. Meet me."
I sighed, tiredly rubbing my temple.
"Riley—"
"No excuses. Meet me. Ten minutes. Give me an address."
I glanced around and spotted a bar across the street.
I gave Riley the location.
"I'll be there," Riley said, probably nodding as was her usual way of concurrence.
Riley arrived within minutes, her face a mixed expression of both relief and irritation.
"God, I thought you were dead," she muttered as she threw herself into the seat across from me.
I let out a dramatic eye roll, trusting Riley to crack a joke when things were still tense.
"Good to see you too," I said, managing a tired smile.
Riley ordered a drink before leaning in.
"Alright. Spill. What's going on? I want to know why I can't go back to a house I pay rent for."
I shook my head.
"I don't know who raided our place, Riley. When I found out, Alexander had to make me go to his place to keep me safe."
It was a lie.
Riley was silent as she thought.
"Do you think it's because of him? What if he has a lot of enemies, Elena, and they were trying to get to you in order to get at him?"
That made sense. This could have been the cause of the raid. Except I knew it was because of me.
"I don't think Alexander is that kind of person." The moment the words left my mouth, I remembered the gun he'd pulled.
Riley frowned as she observed me.
"You swear?"
"Yes," I said quietly, avoiding her eyes.
"Then why does it feel like you're knee-deep in something messy?"
I exhaled. I was going to choose my words carefully.
"Because I don't even understand whether I am. But I can't explain everything. Not yet."
Riley studied me before letting out a sigh of resignation. She knew me; I wasn't much of a talker. When I was ready to speak, I would.
"Fine. Whatever. But you owe me answers."
"Noted," I nodded once.
"Anyway," Riley said as she stretched out, "I know you don't care, but I'm currently crashing at this hipster guy's place. He's been asking me out for quite some time now, so I decided to bank on the opportunity. The dude's got a truck house. And let me tell you—he snores like a dying walrus."
I snorted.
"Oh, come on."
"No, seriously. And the hair! He's got this insane man bun, plus a beard that could house small wildlife. There's more hair in his toilets and on his dressing table than in ours combined."
I actually laughed.
It felt good.
Hanging out with Riley was always refreshing.
I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd had a good laugh.
For a moment, things almost felt normal.
We ordered some snacks, but I barely touched mine. Every bite felt heavy as my stomach kept twisting uncomfortably.
I couldn't stop thinking about the morgue and what I'd seen there.
Especially the badly battered body of John West.
The nausea returned, and I barely made it to the restroom in time.
When I returned, Riley frowned.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," I muttered.
"You're not eating," Riley pointed out.
I waved it off.
"Not hungry."
Riley sighed. Of course, she knew what it was.
"Morning sickness again?"
I just nodded. I thought that was easier than explaining to Riley that I'd been to a morgue that morning and that now my stomach couldn't contain what my eyes had seen.
Knowing Riley, she would want to know what took me to the morgue in the first place.
Riley flagged down the waitress.
"Let's get you something else—maybe tea, or—"
My phone buzzed on the table.
I glanced at the screen.
A text.
From Alexander.
'Where are you?'
My grip on the phone tightened.
I didn't answer.
I set the phone down just as the waitress came back to take Riley's new order.
And then—
The bar's entrance burst open.
The room shifted into chaos immediately.
Men dressed in black stormed in.
People screamed. Some ran. Others froze in fear.
This looked like a typical crime scene, perhaps a robbery.
Riley stiffened beside me.
"What the—?"
I didn't move.
Because I recognized them.
Prescott stood at the front, his face unreadable. His eyes locked onto me instantly. Of course, they were here for me.
The tension in the room was suffocating.
People were backing away. Someone shouted something about a kidnapping.
Prescott ignored them all.
He stepped forward toward where I sat with Riley. The moment he reached us, he stopped and reached into his coat—
And handed me a phone.
I knew before I even pressed it to my ear.
"Elena..." Alexander's voice was smooth. Controlled.
I swallowed hard.
The room around me blurred.