J A M I E
Dissapointing Ander for the first time was terrible luck, but the second time was pure pity.
Jamie ran out of the bakery as soon as possible, regretting how she had revealed things to him. He wasn't supposed to know like this, and it was crueller to leave him hanging with questions, but her anxious heart believed it was for the best.
She knew facing River was inevitable. He had chosen to hide now, but the moment her resistance would test his patience. . . his impulsiveness would bring out the worst in him.
And when that moment came, Ander won't be there to take the heat.
A shiver ran through her insides, and she crossed her arms across her chest; her palms slowly stroked her forearms in a futile attempt to stifle her anxiety. The breeze was light, but enough to scatter her carmine hair all over her face, and a sigh left her lips.
The sun was fully out now, glimmering rays touched her warm ivory skin, and she lazily traced her steps along the empty sidewalk. Tall apartments stood in her sight, the trees occupying space at every other step. And she was tempted to lean against one, just so she could have some support. Perhaps it was the after-work exhaustion, but she knew it wasn't just her body. Her car stood parked on the side of the road, but her jittery legs didn't allow her to drive away so easily.
She could still see the small bakery a few steps away from her. Through the stained glass window, she could still see Ander inside, stressed words pouring from his lips while he yelled into his phone. She had an idea who was on the other line, and it filled her with an urge to get away as soon as possible.
As much as she was thankful that he didn't follow her, she couldn't afford to jinx it.
The past sneaked into her mind more often than she preferred. How different would her life be if she'd never met River? Peaceful, for sure. Better? Definitely. Their relationship had brought forward nothing good; she couldn't remember a single moment which could prove he was worth remembering.
But how far could the "what-ifs" go? In the end, it was nothing but wishful thinking.
She had to live in the present, the cruel reality where rebelling against her father had brought forth an indescribable amount of chaos in her life.
Between her paranoia and reminiscence of the past, she almost missed her phone flashing with multiple incoming texts. Her gaze focused on the screen, and her eyes widened. It was Nylla and an enraged one at that.
'Jamie wtf is happening?'
'Pick your phone!'
'Wtf is in that pen drive??'
'JAMIE'
There were more texts and several missed calls. All of them addressed the same issue over and over again.
For a moment, Jamie rattled deep inside her bones. An angry Nylla was terrifying enough to deal with, and if she had figured out that she was being played as a scapegoat in River's ugly game, it wouldn't end well for anyone.
She shook her head; it wasn't possible. The file was password protected; Nylla couldn't have known.
She dialled her cousin's number with a pretence of confidence, but her spirit diminished like a candle in a storm as soon as someone picked up.
It wasn't her.
"Nylla?" She spoke, hoping her cousin would respond with a lame excuse for whatever the hell happened to her voice.
"Nylla isn't here, and she won't be until you and your boyfriend stop looking." She kept quiet, unsure how to react to the unknown nasal voice, but the person continued, "Tell Ander to stop looking for his blond too."
She didn't know who the blond in question was or how exactly Ander fit into this, but at the mention of the familiar name, her feet moved as if they had their own accordance.
She pushed the bakery's door in a hurry. The weak ply shook against the sudden force, and the windchime rattled and collided against each other. It drew his attention, and the confused man eyed her with weariness. She couldn't blame him. She had run out with great courage moments ago and had returned with uncertain cowardice.
The redhead shoved the phone in his hand, doubtful if someone was even on the line anymore, and Ander stared confusingly. "Talk!"
"Hello?" He spoke into the speaker. Further conversation wasn't audible to her, but from the way his eyebrows furrowed and he scrunched his face up. . . she knew something was wrong. "What the hell is that supposed to—hello, hello? Fucking hell."
A moment passed, then two. Jamie waited for him to say something, but he kept staring at the blackened screen of her phone.
"What?"
"I don't think River's alright."
A N D E R
He wasn't proud of dragging Jamie into this, but she was the one with a car out of the two, and her hatred was of little importance to him when he knew River was very likely in trouble.
I believe River knows not to shove his nose where it doesn't belong now. It was what he had last heard on the phone, and he was confident it was River screaming in the background.
"Why the hell would you make me talk?"
"I don't know how to talk to kidnappers." She mumbled, and he met her with a fierce glare. He watched as she recoiled immediately, her gaze wavering back and forth between him and the road ahead. But she still refused to stare at him for too long.
He knew any progress they had made, if they even did, within the last hour had vanished. There was no point in politeness anymore; she looked at him with the same weariness as River. It didn't make a difference how easy he'd tried to make it for her.
"It may be hard to believe, but I am not a kidnapping nerd either."
There was a storm bubbling inside him. He had a million questions. Who was the person he talked to? He had watched the caller ID, Nylla. He wasn't sure if she was the same woman whose husband he had intended to ruin a few days ago.
He could ask Jamie, but he'd be risking spooking her out, and his sanity couldn't afford another round of incomplete conversation. It was too much, random information sprung out of nowhere, and he needed a break.
He was agitated with an unknown sense of worry. An obvious explanation was that he had learned that his brother was in danger, and his fear regarding his best friend's disappearance had come true, but he couldn't help and think if there was more to it.
Everything felt too sudden, too fictional to believe.
If someone knew where River was, they most likely knew way more than what was safe for the criminal, and despite all the annoyance Ander held. . . his brother's safety meant more than he'd like to admit.
"Which way?" Jamie nudged his side, and he noticed they had reached the intersection. He pointed to the right, and she stared at him for a moment, perhaps for confirmation.
He sympathised with her hesitance; the crossroad looked straight out of a thriller movie. Plants the size of a kid grew on the side of every road. There were multiple signs on the side, and the yellow paint on nearly all of them was rusted and chipped. He could see only one of them clearly, it read Elesk 23 KM, and he pointed to his right again.
"Relax, you can stay inside if you wish. I want to make sure River's okay, that's all."
"Where does this road even go? Is he staying in a tent or something?" She joked, but he could see past her pretence easily. She was scared, rightfully so, and he wondered if he had been making it harder for her. "Are you mad at me?"
Her question was a surprise, and he hoped he hid it well, "No, why?"
"You haven't been responding."
"Not a lot on my mind." He shrugged through the lie.
"Do I keep driving straight?" She asked instead, and he nodded. He couldn't remember the way much, Rosalyn had been the one to walk him to the main road, and he was too tired and confused throughout the journey. But with the neighbourhood of rusty wooden houses coming into his sight, he knew his sense of direction wasn't lost on him yet.
"The one with the silver gate." He pointed to one isolated house at the end of the street, and Jamie slowed down, eventually stopping right outside the broken home.
"I'll wait for you here." She said, and he didn't argue. She was offering to drive him back, and it was more than enough.
He shut the door of her shiny black car behind him, and with anxious steps, he jogged his way inside.
Not much had changed, the renovation that Rosalyn seemed so excited about appeared to extend only 'til brooming the front porch, but he decided to keep his neat freak complaints to himself.
His feet stopped at the edge of the threshold, he had expected to find his brother lurking around somewhere, annoyed by a puppy struck Rosalyn following him, but the sight was unlike anything he was used to.
River lay on the ground groaning loudly while a hysterical Rose panicked over his bleeding forehead. Ander moved forward, drawing both of their attention, "What the fuck happened?"
He had never seen his brother so out of character before. The man who thrived on being dangerous and unapproachable looked like he'd beg for mercy any second now. What skin he showed—neck, forearms, face—it was all covered in bruises.
Patches of cruelty had painted his skin red.
"That-t fucker got t-to me." River croaked out, and Ander felt a mixture of anger and sympathy.
Whoever it was, would regret it.