Hey there. I know it's been a while, and after this update, it might be another long break, since I've got projects and finals coming up. But after May, it should be better. Anyway, please read and review. I'll try to update soon, if homework permits. Enjoy!

Chapter 14
Song: Numb by Linkin Park

"Get up," a harsh voice said from the doorway.

Kate struggled to open her eyes and saw Wayne scowling down at her.

"What?" she asked, trying to buy herself time. She recognized the malevolent glare he always wore when he was about to hurt her.

"I said, get up!" He strode over and dragged her from the spot she had sunk to two hours earlier.

She jerked away and glared back at him, rubbing her arm slightly. It was still a little sore, but she was relieved that his anger hadn't further injured her wrist. 'Why am I still here?' she asked herself. 'Sht, I must have fallen asleep.'

"Come on," Wayne grunted. Kate noticed his hand resting at the small of his back and walked out cautiously, all too sure of who he could be hiding.

"Where?" she asked, dreading the response.

"Your mother wants to talk to you," Wayne replied crossly.

Kate frowned, but headed down the stairs warily.

"She's in the garage," he said.

"It's midnight," Kate said suspiciously. "Why is she out there?"

"Why the hll should I know?" Wayne almost yelled. "Just get out there, she wants to talk to you about your attitude."

Kate still didn't believe him, but she had no choice. His eyes grew harsh, and he clenched his fist, but relaxed when she stepped gingerly into the garage. Using the light from the house, she searched around for a light switch. Suddenly, the stream of light was cut off with the slamming of the door and the clicking of a lock.

"Hey!" Kate protested. She found the switch and flicked it up and down with no response.

"Listen up," Wayne called from inside the house. "There are some new rules now, Katie-girl. No yelling or banging on the walls. You disturb me or your mother, and I'll come out there to play." Kate shuddered at what his voice implied. "I disabled all the electricity to the garage, so no lights, no AC, no heat, hll, the garage door don't even work anymore. It's locked from the outside, too. If you're a good girl, I might just give you food once in a while."

"You think you're such a tough guy, locking me in when I have no chance to defend myself," Kate taunted, trying to buy some time to think. "You're nothing but a two-timing bstard who couldn't beat a drunk in a bar fight."

Suddenly the door was flung open, and Kate found herself staring down the barrel of a 9 mm.

"You wanna repeat that statement, cupcake?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with horrific excitement.

She gulped.

"That's what I thought," he said. He turned around and walked back towards the open door.

Kate made a split second decision. She darted forward and grabbed a hold of the gun.

"What the-" Wayne yelled she tried to wrestle the gun from his hand.

Kate fought hard, but Wayne was strong and had angry adrenaline on his side. He wrenched the gun out of her hand and pointed it at her, considering her for a moment, before swinging it around and bashing her in the side of the head, leaving a huge red mark that began to bruise immediately. He backed slowly out of the garage. After closing the door, he seemed to think for a moment. "Well Katie-girl," he began. "Consider this a lesson: act like a btch around your father, and there are serious consequences."

"You're not my father!" Kate yelled back at him, fear and rage making her voice tremble. "You'll never be my father!"

Wayne laughed. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you, Katie? Just so happens that your mama wasn't as faithful as everyone thought she was." And on that final note, he left.

Kate pounded her fist against the wall. She didn't cry. She was out of tears. She had shown him weakness once, and was determined not to let it happen again. She felt around the garage for the cabinets where the tools were stored and finally found it. She pried it open and discovered a line flashlight and a note from Wayne.

Bet you wish I was that stupid, huh Katie? Too bad.

She swore and stomped the note onto the ground. She leaned against the wall and sank down, thinking. 'Come on,' she told herself. 'There has to be a way out of this, something he didn't think of.' She knew that somehow, someway, she would get out of the garage. But at that moment, she wasn't sure if it would be on her own to feet or in a body bag.

Libby opened the door and strolled inside, humming happily. "Hi mom, dad."

Her father glanced at the clock and turned to her, grinning. "Cuttin' it a little close, aren't ya?"

Libby smiled back. "At least I made it this time, 11:30 on a Friday night is a hard curfew to make."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "There is nothing that you should be doing that would require you to be out later than 11:30."

Libby barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Okay, whatever. Is Kate back yet?"

"I don't think so," her dad answered. "We never heard her come in, but then again, you never know."

"Okay, night," she said as she started down the hallway.

"Night," her parents chorused before turning back to the television.

Libby yawned quietly and headed towards her room. She stopped and sighed as she reached the door. Her evening with Michael had been better that she could have imagined. They had spent about an hour at the convention, looking at all the cars and chatting easily, before heading to a party hosted by one younger owners of the vintage cars. They spent a better part of the evening there and finally left in time to get back for Libby's curfew. Her heart beat faster at the thought of Michael, and she smiled as she opened the door to her room.

She felt a cool breeze and glanced around her dark room to find that her window was open. She walked over, stuck her head out, and looked around. Seeing no one, she pulled it shut and went back into the living room.

"Hey," she asked as her parents turned around again. "Have either of you been in my room?"

Her parents looked at each other curiously. "No honey, neither of us has been in your room all evening," her mother responded, concerned. "Why?"

"Well, my window was open, but I know it was closed when I left earlier," she answered.

"Is anything missing?" her dad asked urgently.

"No, everything is exactly the way I left it," Libby answered after thinking for a moment.

"Do you think we should call the police?" Lauren Westfield asked her husband.

"No, I don't think so," Samuel Westfield said, slowly piecing together the information. "I think we should call The Perry house."

Libby looked confused. "Why would we call Kate's house?" Then it dawned on her. "You don't think she went back there, do you?"

Samuel Westfield grimaced and walked over to the phone. "What's her number?"

"615-816-4223," Libby recited quickly. She watched as her father dialed the number, listened for a moment then hung up quickly, worry clouding his face. "What, dad?"

"Her stepfather answered," he said. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make him suspicious, but he sounded very pleased with himself and not at all like I had woken him up."

"Maybe," Libby said as she tried to think of other places Kate could be. "Maybe she went over to Lindsey's or maybe…maybe she and James are still out."

"Did Kate tell you where she and James were going?" Libby's mom asked.

"Yeah, they were going to the movies," Libby answered, her dread growing. Their movie would have been over a long time ago. She picked up the phone and dialed Kate's cell phone. It began to ring and Libby's face went white as a faint noise drifted down the hallway. She dropped the phone and raced into her bedroom, her parents following. As they entered, they saw Libby holding a small mobile phone that was ringing insistently.

"Is that Kate's?" her dad asked worriedly.

Libby gulped. "Yeah, and she would never go anywhere without it. I saw her put it in her pocket before James picked her up earlier. She had to have come back here. But why would she leave again?"

Libby's mom looked around the room. "I don't see Kate's overnight bag. Did she take it with her?"

Libby's face, which had been slowly regaining color, drained to white again. "I…I don't think she ever had it. I don't remember seeing it this afternoon."

Mr. Westfield sighed. "That's it then. She forgot it at home and went back to get it."

"But…she would be back by now," Libby said, her voice desperate. "It's only a two minute walk to her house from here." She stopped, her face going hard. "It must have been Wayne."

"Now Libby," her mother began. "We can't jump to any conclusions. For all we know, she could be on her way back here right now."

Libby glanced at her mom. "Yeah, I guess she could." Her face showed doubt.

"Why don't you go call her friend James?" her mom suggested, trying to ease her nerves. "There is always the possibility that they are still out."

Libby didn't answer, but rushed back to the phone. She quickly dialed his number and waited impatiently while it rang.

"Hello?" a ragged voice said finally.

"James, it's Libby," she said quickly, her voice

"Oh, what's up?" he asked, his voice slightly unsteady.

"Is Kate with you?" she asked hopefully.

He winced at the thought of their disastrous date. "No," he answered slowly. I dropped her off at your house almost two hours ago. Why?" His voice was now harsh and tinged with fear.

"James, I think something's wrong. I came home, and she wasn't here. I figured it wasn't that big of a deal, but she's not with you. I found her cell phone in my room, and I know she took it with her tonight, which means that she had to have come back here at some point, and my dad called her house. Wayne answered and he sounded really happy about something." Libby's voice was borderlining hysterics, and her mother came over to comfort her.

"Okay, calm down Libby. Start at the beginning. Kate's not over there?" James tried to hide the dread in his voice.

"No," Libby was sobbing by this point. "And I'm really scared."

'Me, too,' James thought. "It'll be okay. Did you check to see if she went to Lindsey's?"

"I was gonna call her next," Libby said, calming herself slightly.

"Okay, you call there, and if she's not there, call me back. I'll be over as quick as I can." He hung up before she could say anything else so she called Lindsey.

"Hello?" said a sleepy voice.

"Lindsey? It's Libby. Is Kate over there?"

There was a yawn. "No, I haven't seen her since this afternoon after school."

"Sht," Libby cursed, earning her a sharp look from her mother.

"What's wrong?" Lindsey was completely awake now. Hearing Libby curse was like an alarm going off.

"She was supposed to be staying with me after her date with James, but she's not here and James says he dropped her off two hours ago," Libby explained.

"Dmnit. Okay I'll be over in a few." They both hung up, and Libby called James back.

"She's not there," Libby said when he answered.

"Yeah, that's what I figured. Can you call Michael and ask him to come to your house? I'll be there in about ten minutes, but he lives closer than I do."

"Alright, see you in a few." She hung up and dialed Michael. After quickly explaining things to him and making sure he was on his way, she hung up and turned to her parents.

They had watched her silently, amazed that, after her initial shock to the situation, she had taken control like a general leading an army. They quietly agreed to let her do whatever was necessary to find her best friend.

"Listen, I know this is really sudden and could be kinda dangerous," Libby began, but was interrupted by her father.

"We know. You just do whatever you have to do to find her." The Westfield's had had a few run-ins with Wayne and they knew that extreme measures would be necessary to get Kate back, if he was the one who had her.

"Thanks." She shot her parents a grateful half-smile and raced off to open the door as the doorbell rang.
"James, snap out of it," Libby repeated as James jerked up. It had been nearly two days since any of them had last seen Kate, and none of them could shake the awful feeling that something terrible was wrong.

James slumped back down on the couch as his thoughts spun in a whirlwind. He had hardly slept since Libby had phoned him on Friday night. He and Michael had scoured the neighborhood, searching for any sign, any trace, that Kate had been there, but, aside from small clues and numerous dead ends, it had been to no avail. They were in the same position they had been in 48 hours ago: suspicions and clues, but nothing they could prove.

Libby sank down in the chair, and Michael stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders. They were both as exhausted as James, but unlike him, they didn't have the emotional strain of being at odds with the one they care for. Not that James had told them as much, but Libby could sense that something had gone wrong on Friday. She had shared her suspicions with Michael alone, and he had privately agreed, but they both knew that either James would tell them when he was ready, or they would find out when they found Kate.

The three of them sat still, trying to think of something new, something that would be able to tell them where Kate was. James stared out the window and grimaced when he saw the sun dipping into the western horizon. There was nothing that could be done at night, but none of them could sleep, so they had kept vigil at Libby's house, with a notebook full of failed plans and fresh brewed coffee keeping them company.

The doorbell rang, and Libby eased herself out of the chair. "That'll be Lindsey." She had gone home to update her parents on their search.

James heard a short conversation in the entryway, and Libby came back into the living room, eyes blazing with hatred and looking more alive than she had in the past two days. He glanced behind her, and he was suddenly awake as well. Trailing sheepishly behind Lindsey, and looking like as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, was Tom. James glared and Tom shrunk back, keeping as close to Lindsey as possible.

His guard as suddenly gone as Libby dragged Lindsey into her bedroom. "What," Libby demanded after slamming the door violently, "is that creep doing here?"

Lindsey's voice was small and full of desperation. "I…I though, since, well, he used to be a Boy Scout, maybe he could, like, track her or something."

"You thought he could help us?" Libby all but yelled. "Did you forget that this whole thing is his fault in the first place? If he hadn't screwed around in Kate and James' relationship, Kate would be sitting around with us, having a good time. Instead, we've been worried and sleepless all weekend and we still don't know where the hell she is!" Libby stopped to draw breath, but before she could continue her tirade, someone appeared in the yard outside her window.

Tom had heard Libby yelling, and, with no desire to be next, or to stay in the room with two people who were glaring menacingly at him, he decided to take a look at Libby's backyard. Lindsey had filled him in on the way over, and although he was upset about just now finding out about Kate's disappearance, he quickly put aside his self-pity and set to work putting his old tracking skills to good use. He bent down and studied the faint tracks outside Libby's window. They were barely noticeable, and it was a wonder that they were even visible, but they were. Suddenly, the window above him opened.

"What are you doing?" Libby snapped.

Tom didn't answer. Instead, he walked slowly across the backyard towards the woods, following a faint impression in the grass.

"Tom?" Lindsey asked, coming to the window.

He looked up, a grim, yet hopeful look in his pale features. "I found some tracks."

Lindsey and Libby both stood for a second, shocked, then grabbed their backpacks and raced outside, alerting James and Michael along the way.

Tom kneeled at the edge of the trees when they arrived.

"Well?" James growled, not daring to hope for good news.

"I can follow them," Tom said after a moment.

"But…" Lindsey offered.

"But, one, it's getting dark, so we have to leave now. And two," he swallowed. "I'm afraid of what we may find when we get there."

Kate leaned against the closed garage door. She could tell it was getting late since the light that came in through the small window was quickly fading. She sighed. Earlier that day, Wayne had come to the door and told her that he and her mom were going on a little vacation. They had left shortly after that, and it was then that Kate had begun trying to plan her escape. When Wayne had been home, he had been prone to bursting in sporadically to check and make sure she was still there and that she wasn't planning anything, but now that he was gone, her window of opportunities was wide open.

But there was something that bugged her. The garage felt different. It was laid out just like hers, but there was something that bugged her. It felt different. At first she had just contributed it to hunger, since she hadn't had anything but water since her disastrous date on Friday, but when she had looked out the window and hadn't been able to see the woods that separated her house from Libby's, she had gotten worried. But her worries were driven out of her thoughts when her side began to throb incessantly. Ever since she had climbed up the trellis, it had hurt a little, but after her struggle with Wayne, it had begun to throb, and if she moved to quickly, sharp pains lanced up and down her left side. She had tried to lie down, but that only made it worse, so she had taken to standing upright, completely still, and planning. It was the only thing that could take her mind off the pain.

She walked slowly over to the hose that served as her water source, grimacing at the ever mounting pain in her side. Reaching the wall, she leaned against it and breathed shallowly. She tried to stand back up to get a drink, but the room was spinning. Trying to steady herself, she took a few steps toward the broken mattress she was forced to call a bed, but it was like her brain and the rest of her body weren't connected. She managed to stumble a few steps and fell facedown into the lumpy mattress. She groaned in pain and rolled over, black clouding her vision. A reddish-purple bruise spread slowly across the left side of her abdomen, and she lay still, the only movement in the silent garage the slight rise and fall of her chest.

"This is it," Tom said finally.

"What do you mean 'This is it?'" Lindsey hissed. "I called you so you could find Kate, not lead us to the place we knew she had to be."

Tom glanced at Kate's house in the fading twilight. "This is as far as her tracks go," he said, pointing to where the trellis met the ground.

"So what's next Sherlock?" James asked angrily.

Tom looked around. "Let's check the windows to see if we can see anything."

They spread out and shined their flashlights into the dark house. After a few minutes, they met back in front of the garage door.

"This isn't working," Libby said, frustrated. "We need to get inside."

Tom walked towards the garage, thinking. "I bet we could force this open. Come give me a hand with this, Michael."

Together, they pulled up with all their combined strength, but the door didn't budge. "Sht, it's locked."

Libby glanced around. "Hey guys, where's James?"

James pulled himself quietly into Kate's room, so dark that he could hardly see his hand in front of his face. Not wanting to alert anyone that was still in the house, he waited for a moment as his eyes adjusted, then examined the room. Seeing that nothing was any different from his last fateful visit, he walked out the door and quickly searched the rest of the house, but found nothing. He was about to leave via the front door when she saw the droplets of dried blood leading to the garage door…

"I don't know where James is," replied an exasperated Tom. "Right now, I'm worried about finding Kate."

Libby scowled and was about to make a no-doubt scathing retort, when Michael interrupted. "Alright, so the garage won't open. There has to be another way in. Let's try the doors. Tom, Lindsey, you two check the back, Libby and I will take the front."

Tom glared at being bossed around, but took Lindsey's hand and led her to the back of the house. She struggled to hide her disgust and threw a furious look at Libby and Michael. Libby smiled sweetly back at her, and as they turned the corner, she leaned up and gave Michael a quick kiss.

"Thanks," she said.

Michael grinned. "Well, she deserved it. And the little prick was getting on my nerves."

Libby laughed. "Yeah, mine, too."

They walked to the front door and Libby jiggled the handle. "No luck."

Michael sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."

They returned about the same time as the others. Libby smirked as an angry Lindsey stalked around the corner, followed by Tom, with what looked like a slap mark visible on his cheek. Evidently Tom had tried to take advantage of the alone time.

"No luck?" Michael asked, also noticing Tom's face.

"Nope," Lindsey said with a forced smile.

"Let's try the garage again," Michael said.

"Actually, we did have a little luck," Tom remarked, holding up a set of keys. "Think these'll help?"

James tried the door leading into the garage, and was surprised to find it unlocked. His heart leapt and fell in the same moment. If it was open, they could find Kate, but if it was unlocked, then why would she stay in the garage as opposed to being in the house? He refused to contemplate the possibilities. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

At the same time, Tom and Michael lifted the now-unlocked garage door on the opposite end of the garage. They registered that James was there, but they immediately started scanning the dark garage. The girls came with flashlights, and they flicked the beams anxiously into every nook and cranny. Nothing.

"I don't get it!" Libby cried in frustration. "She was supposed to be here! Where is she?"

"Well, well, well," a voice interrupted before anyone else could respond. "What could a group of my daughter's friends possibly be doing trying to break into her garage in the dead of night?"

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