Claiming Sarah (Ace Security #5)(67)

He was protecting him in case Sarah’s lifeless body had been stashed in the attic.

He understood, but didn’t like it.

Ryder climbed up the rickety ladder slowly. His head popped over the edge of the attic floor—and after a few seconds, he swore long and low.

“What?” Cole asked urgently. “Is she up there? Do I need to call 911?”

Ryder looked down at Cole and shook his head. “Give me a minute. And whatever you do, do not come up here. Understand? It’s important, Cole.”

“If Sarah is up there, I’m coming up,” Cole growled.

“I don’t think she is. But if I find her, I’ll call down. Okay?”

“What’s wrong?” Cole asked.

“Give me a minute,” Ryder repeated and held Cole’s gaze.

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Fine.”

Ryder didn’t respond, just stepped up, and Cole lost sight of him as he entered the attic. Cole kept his head tilted back and stared at the space where his friend had just been standing.

True to his word, Ryder was back within a minute. He slowly started climbing back down the ladder.

“What? What’s up there?” Cole asked impatiently.

“Boxes. Lots of them,” Ryder told him.

“And?”

“You aren’t going to like this,” Ryder warned.

“I don’t like any of this already! Sarah’s missing,” Cole hissed. “We both know that fuckhead took her. Whatever’s up there can’t be worse than not knowing where Sarah is, if she’s hurt or scared, and what he’s doing to her. Whatever’s up there can’t be worse than what I’m imagining in my head. Just fucking spit it out!”

Ryder held Cole’s gaze for a second before saying, “There’s evidence that someone’s been living in the attic.”

Cole blinked. “What?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say the reason we couldn’t find Owen Montrone is because he’s spent the last couple of weeks living in your girlfriend’s attic.”

Cole was wrong. It was worse than anything he’d imagined in his head. Much worse.



Sarah slept off and on for most of the day. She’d wake up to find Owen sitting near her, watching her with wide, scared eyes. He’d give her more orange juice and pat her on the arm or leg, and tell her he would watch over her . . . which wasn’t exactly comforting.

When night fell, Sarah realized wherever they were wouldn’t be easy to find. Somehow Owen, with his low IQ, had managed to bring her somewhere off the beaten track. Somewhere Cole and his friends couldn’t immediately find her.

Every time she woke up, she hoped it would be to find Cole holding her in his arms, telling her everything would be all right. But that hadn’t happened. She was still here.

Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to start figuring out what to do. Cole was looking for her, of that she had no doubt. She didn’t even want to think about how pissed off and scared he probably was. She had to concentrate on saving herself. She wanted to stay huddled on the couch, but that wasn’t going to get her back to Cole, and it wasn’t going to magically solve her problems.

At the moment, the biggest issue was her ankle. It was bad. Very bad. She wasn’t a doctor or a nurse, but she’d seen enough broken bones being set to know that was what she had to do. It was going to suck, there was no doubt about it. But she couldn’t really feel her foot and knew if she didn’t at least try to make sure the bones were put back where they were supposed to be, she could lose the foot altogether . . . or her leg. If the blood flow was being cut off or constricted, she’d be in big trouble.

“Owen?” she asked.

He was puttering around in the kitchen. Sarah’s stomach growled, but she knew if she ate anything, she’d probably throw it up when she set her ankle.

“Yes?” Owen asked, almost skipping over to her side.

“Are there any painkillers around here?”

He frowned as if he didn’t understand.

“Did your mom take any pills? Do you have them here?”

He smiled. “Oh! Yeah, hang on.” He went into the bathroom located off the main room and reappeared in seconds. He had a fabric bag, which he held out to her.

Sarah nodded and loosened the tie around the top. Rummaging around in the bag, she found a treasure trove of narcotics. Aubrey had obviously been in a lot of pain toward the end of her life, and there were more than enough painkillers for Sarah to choose from.

Hating to do it, knowing taking them would alter her mental state, but knowing she wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done otherwise, she pushed one of the OxyContin tablets out of its bubble pack and into her palm.

Looking up at Owen, she asked, “Can I have some more orange juice?”

“OJ! Yes!” the large man said with excitement. “It’ll cure what ails ya!”

Sarah nearly smiled as he hurried back to the kitchen to fill her plastic cup. His mom had obviously told him that all the time, because it was clear Owen truly believed it. He returned in moments, and Sarah took the pill without hesitation.

“Owen help some more?” he asked.

“No, I’m okay for now.”

“Good.” Then he turned and went over to the table, where he’d spread out a puzzle earlier, and hunched over it once more.