The Psycho (The Soldiers of Anarchy 1)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Adam

Isped through the roads, ignoring traffic lights and swerving around cars as I headed from Brinton into Sandland. All the while, I kept ringing her phone, praying that she’d pick up, but she never did. Every single one of my calls went straight to answerphone. The soldiers tried to ring me, but I cut off every single one of their calls. I didn’t have anything to say to them.

I placed my phone on the dashboard in front of me as I drove, keeping the tracker app open so I could see if she moved. I prayed I wasn’t too late. If he’d hurt her, if he’d fucking touched her, I’d rip him apart. I’d also tear myself apart. How could I ever live with myself knowing I’d done this to her? That this was all my fault.

When I eventually pulled into her driveway, I saw that there were no other cars. I leant over and reached into the glove compartment, taking out the knife that was hidden there for emergencies. It was only a hunting knife, no katana, but it didn’t matter. I had the best weapon against any predator… Me.

I abandoned the van, leaving the engine running and the door open, and I sprinted up the steps to her front door. It was locked, and I was just about to kick the fucker open, but instead, I took the quicker option and ran around the side of her house to the back door to find it wide open. I smacked it hard, banging it against the plaster in anger, then I sped through the kitchen and into the hallway, grabbing the railing and taking the stairs three at a time to get to her bedroom. I could hear the hiss of the shower still pouring, and I flung her door open, expecting to find him there with her, but the room was empty. I stalked over to her bathroom, slamming that door open, but again, nothing.

The air was thick with steam, and I reached into the shower to turn it off, shaking with fury at the fact that she wasn’t here, she was gone. He’d taken her, and I had no fucking clue how to find them.

When I turned around, I saw a message scrawled into the steam on her mirror that made the beast inside of me want to tear my own fucking skin off.

See you in hell.

I roared like an animal, unleashing my rage. I was already in hell, a fucking hell of my own making, and I picked up a glass jar that was next to the sink and hurled it at the mirror, breaking the glass, shattering it into a million pieces, just like my heart. I would see him in hell, but he’d be going there first, once I’d hunted him down.

Standing in the middle of her bathroom, I howled, gripping my knife, desperate to cause pain. I needed to find them. I needed to tear him apart and decimate every inch of him, until every one of the voices in my head that were howling–as loud as I was–were quietened. Silenced by retribution. Nobody touched what was mine and got away with it.

I walked back into her room and grabbed my phone again, ringing her and praying to a God I didn’t believe in that she’d pick up. She didn’t, but I heard a gentle buzz and that’s when I noticed her phone was on her bedside table. I shut down the call and went over to it, picking it up and seeing the list of missed calls and texts listed on her home screen, and all from one caller, me. She had my number saved as ‘My Man’ and my fucking heart twisted inside my chest, the splintered, broken parts piercing me from within, making it hard to breathe. My life wouldn’t be worth living without her in it. She was my fucking life.

My phone started to vibrate in my hand, and I saw it was Devon calling. I answered, but I couldn’t speak. The reality of what was happening was too much to bear.

“Ad, are you there?” Devon asked, and I grunted out a sound.

“We managed to tap into the back up on Liv’s CCTV. We saw what happened before he dismantled it. He isn’t that clever.” My heart lurched hearing what he said, and I held onto the wall, my other hand gripping the phone, desperate for something I could use, anything that’d lead me to her. “There was no Range Rover caught on camera, I think he ditched that, but there was a white van that we saw on there. We managed to get a number plate and Tyler is on the phone right now to his guy in the police, seeing if we can get a current location through number plate recognition.”

“How long is that gonna take? Wouldn’t it be quicker to hack into the police systems ourselves?” I asked, the desperation pouring out of me.

“Not this time. Tyler said it’s quicker this way,” Devon replied, then added, “I don’t think he’ll have kept her in Sandland. Brinton is his hunting ground. He knows the area. Maybe it’s better if you come back here and once we get–”

“I’m not going anywhere unless it’s to find Olivia. I’ll drive down every fucking road, street, path, dirt track, and alleyway in Brinton until I find her. I’ll burn the fucking town to the ground if I have to.” I wasn’t going to give up. I wouldn’t put anything on hold, waiting for some copper to pull his finger out and check a computer program. She came first. Nothing else mattered but my Olivia.

“Okay, well when we get news, I’ll ring you.”

“You’d better,” I snapped and hung up, walking out of her room and back down the stairs with my phone in one hand and my knife in the other.

If Karl fucking Cheslin thought he had a rough time in prison, if he thought he’d met mean motherfuckers before, then he was in for a shock. He was about to come face-to-face with the best of them. They didn’t call me the psycho for nothing, and he was about to find out why.