Page 17 of Rescued By Midnight

“Yeah. He doesn’t know I left.”

My blood boils. She had to sneak out of her own goddamn house? What this woman has been through…

“Stay on the line with me. I’m on my way.” I yank on a pair of sweats, not bothering with underwear. I don’t let go of the phone as I pull on a shirt. As I walk down the hall, I hesitate at Cody’s door. He’s been a dick, and Alice is fragile.

I don’t knock, but I shoot him a text. Get the guest room ready. I’m bringing Alice home.

I hear a muffled curse from behind his door, but I’m already through the living room and leaving the apartment before he emerges.

CODY - NOW

It’s one thing to help her from afar, searching for her kidnapper, examining our old files for clues.

It’s an entirely different fucking thing to bring her into our home. Landon has to know this is a mistake. It was a mistake to befriend someone so young and impressionable five years ago, a mistake to develop feelings for her. What the hell is he thinking? We can just wipe away everything from the past and start fresh? She’s coming in with thirteen months of trauma and a husband.

Grumbling under my breath like a frustrated housewife, I fluff the pillows on the guest bed. The sheets are already clean. Alice may or may not need something to wear, so I raid Landon’s dresser for sweats and a t-shirt. I leave the folded bundle at the foot of Alice’s bed, then check the guest bathroom for soap and shampoo. There isn’t any body wash, so I steal that from Landon’s shower. I set it in her bathtub and grab a towel and washcloth from under the sink, placing them on the counter.

There. Everything’s ready to go for our unexpected houseguest.

I return to my room and turn out the lights. I won’t be able to sleep, but fuck if I’m going to wait up in the living room like a concerned father. Landon has this covered.

As soon as my head hits the pillow, though, I jolt back up. She might be hungry, or thirsty. Getting out of bed again, I go into the kitchen and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I put it on a plate with some crackers, then wash some strawberries, carefully cutting off the stems and slicing each one in half. I put the strawberry halves in a snack bowl and dust them with sugar. I pour her a glass of water, as well, and bring everything back to the bedroom, setting it on her nightstand.

And what if she’s scared of the dark? Returning to Landon’s bathroom, I take his nightlight and bring it back to Alice’s room, plugging it in. When I turn off the overhead light, a faint glow now comes from the side of the bed. If she wakes up in the middle of the night, she’ll see where she is, and she’ll see that she’s safe.

All of her needs are taken care of.

Good. It means she won’t bother us.

Finally finished, I return to my room. I’d like to say I go straight to sleep, satisfied with a job well done.

Instead I lie awake, listening for her arrival.

7

LANDON - NOW

I coax Alice into finding an intersection with street signs, so I can find her. When I drive up, my headlights illuminate her hunched form. She starts to dart behind a tree.

“It’s me,” I say through the phone. “I’m driving up, and I see you.”

She comes forward, one arm wrapped around herself, the other clutching her phone.

I pull up next to the corner and engage the emergency brake before leaping out of the car and taking long strides toward Alice.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her face-to-face in three years. She’s paler than I remember, and too skinny. I imagine the stress, and whatever other conditions she faced in captivity, kept her from eating well. Her dark blond hair looks brown in the darkness, and it’s held in a single braid that dangles in front of her shoulder.

The worst part is her eyes. She looks haunted and tired, like she hasn’t slept for a year. Someone—maybe more than one someones—turned my Alice into a ghost.

They better hope I never find them.

“Wonderland,” I whisper, holding out my arms. “You don’t have to touch me if you don’t want to, but goddamn, I would love to hug you.”

She hurries forward, almost tripping, and falls against my chest. “I’m so sorry, Landon.”

She’s crying; I can hear it in her voice.

“It’s okay.” I cradle the back of her head, pressing her closer to me. “It’s okay. We’ve got you now, all right? We’ll figure everything out. Do you have a bag of clothes or anything?”