12. The Video

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12. The Video

 Noah’s POV

2:48AM was the time that froze in my mind. I’d immediately gone into panic mode, thinking of the many possibilities and what was happening with Blake. I didn’t go home—I hadn’t actually stepped foot in my house for more than ten minutes and even in that ten minutes I’d be getting dressed or pacing then return to Blake’s aunt’s home.

Not that you could even call it a home anymore.

It was so bleak…so dead without Blake. It felt like a house that was not inhabited by anyone—Blake’s aunt did the same thing every day: drink coffee, clean, pace, drink coffee, clean, pace…it was the same. She didn’t mind me being there and instead of having me sleep in the guest room they had she made me sleep in Blake’s room which in a way was comforting.

Blake’s room was probably the only thing that kept me going, it had an air of calmness in it and I’m guessing it was due to the fact that  was so well kept. She, unlike the other girls our age, did not have posters of bands, pop-stars or actors on her wall. She didn’t have the clichéd fairy lights, the motivational writing. It wasn’t the grunge type that had spray paint all over the wall—no. In fact , the walls were as plain as the sky blue sky. It was painted a soft shade of grey and had pictures on frames hanging along one wall. The funny thing about it was, none of them were of her.

Another time I might have teased her about it. The pictures were of people—the everyday life. A dog, a happy child, a crying baby, two elderly couples, a bird in the sky. It was just...every day. I wanted to ask her aunt about It but I had a feeling Ms. Norton didn’t know what Blake did. I had a feeling Blake had those in her room to remind her of life—of the every day. I’m almost certain it helps her through the day. Seeing a happy family, seeing reality.

Sighing, I pushed away thoughts of Blake away from my mind.

“Play it.”I finally said.

We were in Blake’s living room, two inspectors and three policemen, myself and Blake’s aunt crowding around the giant plasma TV. They had predicted that the kidnappers would send a ransom video. It took a while since the video came—exactly three days since her aunt filed a missing persons’ report, but it was finally here. That should be good right? It meant she was alive? Safe?

Blake’s aunt reluctantly pressed the play button. The picture was blurry and the date came up at the side, the time and the battery life edging the middle of the screen. The room was dark, with very little light in its surroundings. Suddenly a man with an Iron Man mask came over, close-up to the lens and tapped the glass.

“It’s ready.” I think he murmured.

Suddenly a spot light came out of nowhere. It was almost heavenly looking—the only light spotting on the only angel in the room. Her wrists weren’t bound like I’d thought but she looked…sick. She didn’t look like she’d been roughed up but she looked as if she were confused, I bet they drugged her and that made her impossibly disoriented. Her brown hair hung limp around her, pale blue eyes screamed for help—Blake’s aunt let out a sharp sob and that snapped me out of staring at the girl before me.

“Keep your head up, little girl!” the man in the Ironman mask hissed, holding Blake’s chin up a little. seeing how pale, dirty and tired she was broke my heart. She didn’t deserve any of this! “As you may know, the Deveraux Crash Case was closed immediately after the government found that Patrick Deveraux was a part of the secret Industry called the APS or American Protective Services. Patrick was also in the running  for vice presidency at the time. His wife, Amelia Deveraux was a lawyer helping the case in cracking who bombed a small town in Iraq. If you’ve all put together the puzzle by now you’d definitely realize that yes, it was us who planted the bomb in Iraq and us who planned the crash of Amelia and Patrick Deveraux.” The man stopped, his head cocking up to face straight at the camera as if he were sending a silent  message to the other side of it—to us. “All the Deveraux family were meant to be in that crash but little miss, Blake Deveraux here, escaped. For years we’ve been searching for the missing link because we know that her parents have planted in her, the key to where our money is. Now, if we don’t get the first five million dollars by tonight, a piece of Miss Deveraux will be delivered at your doorstep. If we do, then we’ll try our best not to touch her.”I couldn’t see that he was smirking but I heard it. “Now, you’ve got forty-eight hours to get the full amount of three-hundred-million dollars at the warehouse outside of Illinois. You should know that isn’t where we’re keeping Miss Deveraux so don’t try anything stupid.” He warned.

Suddenly he moved towards Blake and I saw panic in her pale blue eyes. The man lifted his mask halfway and leaned towards her—NO! Before my mind began to process anything Blake’s aunt let out a wail, followed with a snap. The snap, I realized came from the TV. The masked man had punched her in the jaw. Her face was streaked with tears, there was so much I wanted to do for her.

Blake…

“No more, please.” She whispered. “Please.” She pleaded brokenly.

“That’s only a taste of what we can give Miss Deveraux. You don’t want to know the rest.”

I continued to watch the video until a third figure arrived wearing a Transformers mask. He had something shining in his hand and my eyes widened as I realized what it was. A needle. Blake didn’t see it coming as it hit her skin, before ten seconds could even pass her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The bastards hadn’t even bothered with picking her up, leaving her on the ground.

Then the video cut off.

* * *

I got kicked out of Blake’s house for anger but I didn’t leave it. Not really. My anger got the best of me and I ended up throwing the remote control at the television set…with a little too much force and cracked the TV causing glass to explode everywhere. Blake’s aunt was sobbing when I left and that was the last I saw of her. I was waiting at the curb, just waiting and saw my mother peek through our windows towards me. I knew my family were worried but I couldn’t get Blake out of my head.

My mind was set on one thing: finding her. Keeping her safe and never letting her go out of our sight again.

It was crazy that I only just realized it now. From the very beginning I was searching for a girl who wouldn’t care that I was Noah Hunt, the golden boy of Hollywood. Blake didn’t care about that, she didn’t care about the money and she didn’t care about the publicity. She was her own self: rough around the edges but brilliant. Beautiful, and flaunted it and had the fiery attitude that I’d come to love.

Love.

I love Blake Deveraux.

And that was the worst. I knew she didn’t exactly like me. Taking advantage of her whilst she was intoxicated was wrong that I’d even classify it as rape no matter how much she cared about me. But that night was crystal clear in my mind and so was the fight that we had before she went missing. It hurt  me that I hurt her. There was nothing in the world that I didn’t want to give to Blake Deveraux. I wanted to make her feel like she wouldn’t be forgotten. I wanted to show her she was good—she was better than what people made her out to be. She was perfect in so many imperfect ways  but I loved that about her.

Funny how I only realize that—after all following her everywhere, after practically stalking her and doing anything to piss her off. Funny now it’s only now that I realize I love her. And she wasn’t even here to hear it.

It was wrong but I was beginning to wonder whether I’d ever be able to tell Blake how much I cared.

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