Okay, I know I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be starting a new story, but I couldn't help it
I got my inspiration from "Without a Trace" and other shows like that. I wanted to write something in that sort of genre, that kind of story. So I did.
Now, it's going to be slow because I'm still working on Written In My Sins - But I doubt this is going to be that long.
Anyway, hope you like it. Review, if you please, just so I know if I should continue or give it up now.
Kelly.
Title: Into Broken Waves.
Author: Broken-Devil.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the SoN characters, they belong to Tom Lynch and The-N. Any original characters you do see are mine though. So no stealing those ones, mkay?
Pairing(s): Spencer and Ashley.
Summary: When the love of your life goes missing, how far will you go to save them?
September 29th, 2012. 00:53am.
I'm driving, it's late and I'm pumped full of caffeine but I really couldn't care less.
I need to find her, my Spencer, my baby, I have to get her and bring her back home. To me, to where she belongs, to where I love her unconditionally and where I'm going crazy because she isn't around to calm me down.
I've known Spencer Carlin since I was fourteen and besides her parents and her brother, who like to think they know more, I'm pretty much the only person who really, truly, understands her. I know she hardly likes any milk in her cereal, I know she's one of those people who think they can sing better in the shower and I know, beyond everything, she loves me and her family way too much to run away.
I'm her girlfriend, her best friend, and trust me when I say Spencer had no reason to just "take off." We would have talked about it, she would have said if something was bothering her or if she was feeling generally down. I mean, I knew her new job was stressful but she loved it. Yeah the strain was getting to her, I could see it, but she never let it affect us and she wouldn't run from it - not when she had worked so hard.
She was a journalist and a fucking good one at that too. Her writing, it was out of this world and though it may have pissed off some pretty high celebrities in the process; they had to agree she was good. She didn't like the tabloid papers though, she went for the meaty stuff; articles that would blow peoples minds.
Did you know my baby was behind uncovering that sporting scandal last year? It's true, she put so much time into that article. Her photographer and friend, Chelsea Daniels, they had camped for nights outside this guy's house and the only time I saw her was when she ran in to the house to have a shower. But God, when she exploded the guy's secret it was fucking awesome; I was proud in a kind of twisted way.
His name was Aiden Dennison, an ex basketball player with more money than sense and a bimbo hanging off of him at every corner. He's good looking, you know, if you're into that. Tall, dark, handsome - the typical pretty boy you see on every heterosexual teenaged girls' wall. Apparently though, he'd been popping 'roids since he was seventeen and nobody had noticed, or nobody cared. The guy was so pumped up on these pills though that it fucked with his head, caused him to be violent. During the off season the guy was working out in the gym where Spencer went, he tried flirting with her and she pushed him away, told him she was with me.
He wouldn't take the hint though, kept pushing at her and telling her he was what she needed. He grabbed her as she walked away, that fucker grabbed her and left his filthy mark on her perfect body. I wanted to kill him when she came home and told me, my heart was pumping blood that was boiling, I could only see red and I forced my way past her to my car. She told me it was okay, told me that she would sort it and dear God she did.
She exposed him for what he was; a dirty, filthy piece of scum. She and Chelsea caught him buying his little pills from a local dealer, they snapped him picking up prostitutes; some girls whom were my sister's age and she's only just starting college. They had evidence, pictures of one of those girls with bruises on her face and arms, after she had gotten out of his car. My baby, she's kind-hearted and she went to the police before writing her story. They didn't pay much attention to it, said it could be anyone and she needed further proof.
She gave them proof, hell she wrote a 3 page spread about the low life piece of shit and included how the police fail to do their job properly. She wrote about his sordid little life and his dirty ways and exposed Aiden Dennison for what he was.
He was mad for a while, he had to fork money to keep his sorry ass out of jail and had to publicly quit the basketball team that had paid for his Ferraris and his prostitutes. We had a month, Spencer, Chelsea and I, where letters were being posted about how we were going to pay for it. She paid it no attention, I did but that quickly vanished when she whispered to me how she found "protective Ashley" unbelievably hot.
So, I know, I know that if she could get through something like that then something serious has had to have happened. My baby wouldn't run, she wouldn't just get up and leave like that - it wasn't her, wasn't who she was.
I'll find her.
Believe me when I say I'll find her, I'll find who took her and I'll bring her back if it is the last thing I do.
Because I know, I know, she hasn't run away.
The police, Jesus they think I'm stupid or something. They tell me that maybe she's with some friends, but I know her friends, I've phoned them all - ten times individually. She isn't with them.
I've gone by her work, she didn't turn up.
I've gone to her regular eating places, she hasn't been seen.
I've checked the park, our spot on the beach, the lighthouse, the subways, the airports, the taxi ranks, the bowling alley, the ice-rink - nobody has seen her.
So when the police tell me, with their charming smiles and their relaxing tones that she could have just gone away for a while; I can hear the secret messages. I can see the glances they flit between one another while Paula, Spencer's mother, cries into the cold coffee and crumples the rest of her stale biscuit. I can feel the doubt they have when they watch Glen, her brother, come in from searching our neighbourhood for the eighth time that night.
Its suspicious circumstances, I know it, God I've watched CSI and all those shows enough to understand it.
But I'll find her.
So help me God I will find her.
-
September 27th, 2012. 07:08am.
"What time will you be home tonight, Spence?" The brunette asks, she already knows the answer but the feeling of this lifestyle, this living together, she loves it. How domesticated they are, how they know each other so perfectly, so intimately, she basks in it. A grin slowly works its way over her tanned face and she puts the finishing touches to her lipstick. Once, twice, she smacks her lips together and watches her reflection flash a cheeky smile.
"Five." Her girlfriend responds. Ashley frowns at the tone used, Spencer sounds distracted, frustrated, and she moves away from the mirror and walks from the bathroom to the bedroom to see what the problem is.
"Baby, do you need some help?" Walking over to her, Ashley puts my hands over her work planner, but recoils when a pale hand grabs the item possessively. They're both frowning, for different reasons, but the blonde is intent on fitting everything into her small bag.
"No, I'm fine. I can do it myself, Ashley, I don't need a minder." Ungracefully, she shoves the silver planner into the bag and pushes a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. A sigh leaves parted pink lips and sorrowful blue eyes turn to her confused girlfriend.
"Don't start our day by saying sorry." Ashley interrupts, scared that having an argument with Spencer now would ruin her day. She couldn't be distracted today, she was going to be editing together the final album for the top selling band in LA. "What's wrong?"
"I -" Spencer sighs, runs a hand through naturally straight hair and fixes her gaze on a picture nailed to the wall, "I didn't sleep much."
"Why didn't you wake me?" She wraps her arms around the taller woman, careful not to crease the new blouse the blonde was wearing.
"You looked so perfect asleep, you've been working long hours and you needed to catch up on some." Leaning forward she presses kiss onto pout in front of her, the fresh lip-gloss she had applied, scant minutes before they had started this conversation, left a sticky trail between their lips.
"I would have woken for you." Ashley's slightly perturbed, Spencer never had any issues with waking the music producer before. In fact, the blonde often did it, even when they had both only had two hours sleep, to talk about random things that were flitting around her mind. The brunette always listened intently, hung off of every word that slipped past those full lips and Spencer knew that. She thrived on it.
"I know, baby." Soft hands run down tanned biceps and the blonde smiles as she squeezes the skin under her fingers. "I just, I guess I was too hot and that isn't really a reason is it? You know, to wake you."
"I guess," The brunette is pouting because her mind is alive with worry, "are you sure you're okay? Maybe you're working yourself too hard."
"You know, you might be right there." For once the blonde concedes, usually she uses that line to start an argument about how Ashley dosen't appreciate the work she does.
"I am." Ashley nods, leaning forward and putting their foreheads together. She realises they have to leave the house in the next five minutes to make it to work on time but she dosen't want to break this silence, this bliss.
"Ashley?" Spencer starts a slow rocking motion of their bodies, swaying them from side to side and calming their senses slowly.
"Mmm?"
"You know that holiday you wanted to go on? The one I couldn't get out of work for?"
"Yeah?"
"How about we book it when I get home?"
Brown eyes lit up in relief and flooded with love. Two weeks prior she had hinted they get away, have a holiday and just forget about work for a while. Europe had been the option, Spencer could visit all those historical places she had dreamt about as a child and Ashley could romance her with foreign food and wine. France, Italy, Spain and Greece had been widely talked about but the bubble had been burst when Spencer whispered, late into the night, that she wouldn't get out of work. She just couldn't arrange to take a month off, not like that.
But now, now she had changed her mind and it filled Ashley's heart.
"I'll have the numbers ready and waiting."
"Good, I can't wait." Another kiss, another embrace and the two finally got ready for the day of work. "I'll try and be home for half four, baby. Be here." She shot her a sexy wink and walked to the door, Ashley followed like a little puppy and waved as she left.
September 27th, 2012 at 7:23 was the last time Ashley Davies saw Spencer Carlin.
-
September 29th, 2012. 00:56am.
It's cold, it's wet and the smell is making me nauseous.
I can't see where I am, whoever is in control here has turned the lights off and they've been off for the longest time. My belongings, they were in my bag and I don't know where that is. I had it when I was leaving work, I was carrying it over my shoulder and then...
God, I can't remember.
I hear water, it's running in the corner somewhere and I can hear someone talking. They sound distant, far away, like I'm behind a barrier to stop me getting to them.
My knee is cut badly, I can feel the congealed blood around the wound and I can't bend it properly. It's below the knee, with my free hand I can feel it and the cut is rather long. My other hand is chained, the links connected to my wrist are long enough so I can stand up - but I can't raise my hands when I do.
I lean back against the wall, I've been here for a while - I don't know how long. There's a window, it's high on the wall and I'm pretty sure a day has passed but I'm dazed, confused.
I want Ashley, we're supposed to be booking our holiday in Europe. We should be eating now, I should be listening to her stories about the divas she has to work with and we should be laughing together at stupid things. I should be in her arms, holding her, kissing her, feeling her.
But I'm not.
I'm cold and scared but I'm not giving up now, I'm not losing hope.
She'll find me, I know she will, my baby is strong and she'll come for me.
She has to.