Hostage

10: Hotel

Eliza's POV

I push the button on my phone to call my daughter. The phone rings ten times before I hear the all-familiar voicemail echo in my ears.

"You've reached Aubrey. I'm not available at the time. Leave your name and number behind and I'll do my best to call you back."

I sigh and hang up, not bothering to leave a message. She's probably just at a friend's house, or maybe at the movies. She has been talking lately about this one movie she's been wanting to see lately, but I didn't allow her to see it. Now thinking about that, I believe she snuck out of the house alone or with her friends to go see it. I can deal with her when she gets back.

Two hours pass. I'm sitting on the couch watching the news when a story pops up that makes my blood run cold and my heart skip several beats.

"Just last night, the daughter of Eliza and Ryan Bates has been reported missing. Aubrey is fourteen-years-old who was last spotted at her home in Los Angeles." The picture of Aubrey — our sweet baby angel — pops up on the screen. I cover my mouth, trying to control my breathing at this terrifying moment. "Her location now is unknown. The police got her contact information and have tried multiple times to track her, but to no avail. If you have any info on the case of Aubrey Bates, please don't hesistate to report to the nearest authorities. Anything and anyone on this case can help, even if it's the slightest information, which could possibly bring her back alive."

"Ryan?" I call out to my husband, standing up and running to the office. I see my husband sitting at the desk, typing away on his laptop, trying to finish up several pages of what he calls an essay that's due the next day.

"I'm busy, Eliza! Go do something else!" he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. Apparantly his work is more important than this situation, which irritates me. I begin to tremble and bite my lip, holding back my tears. A small drop of blood forms, but I quickly lick it away before he notices.

"It's — it's an emergency." I swallow, and he looks up to see me standing there. My face is pale, and I have tears beginning to run down my cheeks. "It's Aubrey. She's been reported missing."

Ryan's face drops, and he stands up, closing his laptop. "Aubrey. Our Aubrey? No! She has enough common sense. She's fine — I know she is!"

"They can't track her phone! She's gone!" I begin to shout. He just stares at me. I take a deep breath to calm myself down. "Ryan, she's out there! We can't just stay here and let something happen to our child! If we don't do something, she could get killed!"

My husband sighs before grabbing his coat from the rack in the corner of the room. I just stand there, watching him in awe. He stops midway and gawks at me. 

"Well, why are you just standing there? If our child is missing, we're going to go look for her! Come on! Get your coat!"

I give him a small smile before grabbing my coat from the rack. I slip it on. We run out to the garage, locking the door behind us, and getting in our Honda Odyssey. We back out of the driveway and head half a mile down the road before reaching the first light. We wait for what seems like an eternity when it's only really twenty seconds before the light turns green. Ryan puts his foot on the gas pedal. Halfway there, I hear the sudden screech of breaks and the loud blaring of the horn. I turn to my right and see the car for a split second before it collides with the passenger side that I'm on.

And then it hits.

The sudden bang; the sound of metal twisting against metal; the sound of shards of glass shattering and falling onto the pavement below; the thud as Ryan's head falls forwards, only to be cushioned by the sudden airbag. Mine is faulty. Mine doesn't inflate. My head falls forwards. I hear a sudden crack and feel an extreme pain in my head, smelling the strong metallic scent of blood.

And then everything goes black.