Author's note: As you might imagine, there is a graphic violence warning for this chapter. Shit is going down. Not too bad, but everyone's squicks are different. I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning. But I hope it is worth the wait! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I wish.
Chapter 2
Five Days Ago
"So where are we going?"
"Always so impatient," Killian teased. "Perhaps we should have blindfolded you."
"You can do that later," she shot back. "Much more fun."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"It is supposed to be a surprise, sweetheart," Liam reminded her.
She sat back in the seat. "Fine." They were back to taking cabs; her Bug was safely stored at Aurora Grove. The shelter was everything Emma had hoped for; the owner was very grateful for the donation. Regina was cooking up the paperwork; she was due to sign it before they left in a couple of days. She was a bit sad about it, still, but she knew it was best. That part of her life was over. She had a much better one waiting for her in London.
Liam toyed with her gloved hand. "Just give us this one day to spoil our wife rotten," he coaxed, threading his fingers through hers.
"I am," she protested. "Although, it's not that different from any other day. I get both of you." She squeezed Liam's fingers and used her other hand to find Killian's. She was happy, regardless of her impatience. How could being with them not make her happy? They loved her unconditionally; they gave her a home. They were her home. Nothing could change that.
"I'll give you a clue, love," Killian murmured. "We'll be taking a ferry to get there."
"A ferry?" Now she was intrigued. "Wait, how long have you guys been planning this?"
"Since we knew we were coming here," Liam replied. "You didn't think we would forget that this is your first Valentine's Day as Mrs. Jones?"
"But that's not until tomorrow!" She laughed. Leave it to them to extend Valentine's Day. She should have known. "Nevermind. I love you guys." This was just a part of being with them. They enjoyed doing things together, even if it was just lounging around the house and reading or watching TV. Sure, they all had other friends and interests, but they were happiest together. In their own little bubble.
It didn't take long for her to figure out where they were going. Once the skyscrapers parted to reveal the harbor, it was pretty obvious. "The Statue of Liberty?"
"You did mention it as something you'd never done."
"I did? Wow." She leaned forward, peering at it through the window. She'd noticed it in passing when she lived in the city, but she never took the time to really look. That was the story of her life prior to meeting the Jones brothers. She simply drifted through her life, never laying down roots, always ready to leave at the hint of trouble.
It was such a lonely way to live.
The statute looked smaller than she expected, but that was a trick of perspective. The trio stood on the deck of the ferry, watching it get closer and closer. The skyline around the statute made it look smaller than it actually was. It was huge.
"You fancy seeing the city from up there?"
"What? Seriously?" Killian showed her their tickets. They had passes for the ferry, the pedestal and the crown. "How far is it?"
"162 steps. Think you can handle it, love?"
She gave him a playful shove. "I think you're the one who can't handle it, babe."
"Is that a bed, love?" Liam teased.
She smirked. "You're on." They were going to wear her out today, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Not when she felt so alive.
It was chilly outside, but that didn't stop them from taking pictures once they landed on Liberty Island. Tripods weren't allowed, so they had to stop a few strangers to take their picture. They did a few serious poses, smiling and happy, then Killian abruptly picked her up and started to spin them around until they were both dizzy. Liam took the camera back and snapped a few of them horsing around. It was good to see her happy and carefree.
He was dreading the return to London.
Don't think about that, he scolded himself. There's nothing you can do about it from here.
At least they'd be able to go home. Their contractor had contacted them to let them know the job was done. Liam couldn't wait to see it. The master suite was their sanctuary, their most private space. When Emma first came to London, Liam never expected it to become their permanent living arrangement, but Emma surprised him. Not only by staying, but by everything she did to make their townhouse into a home.
One day it would be the place where they raised their family.
"Are you done?" Emma panted, out of breath. She bent over, hands on her knees, waiting for the world to right itself.
"You love me," Killian said, unapologetic.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Come here." She tugged her beanie back on her head and kissed him sweetly. Killian wrapped his arms around her slightly bulky form and pressed his lips to her forehead.
Liam walked over and rubbed her back. "Ready for the tour?"
"Hey, I want another picture." She got out her phone and got them to huddle close to her. Liam again had to take it, since he had the longest arms. All three were smiling, happy to be together. Emma liked it so much she made it the lock screen on her phone.
"A new picture for the office?" Liam asked.
"Maybe? We can get more printed if you want one for yours."
"I'd like that." Aside from one picture of Emma and another of the trio from Paris, his office was pretty spartan. He'd just never felt compelled to decorate. Perhaps it was time to change that.
"The last ferry leaves for the mainland at five," Killian reminded them. "And we thought about making one more stop today."
"Where?" She slipped her arm through Killian's, Liam's hand secure in her free one. She saw a few people staring but ignored it. They weren't doing anything wrong.
"The 9/11 memorial," Liam said as they walked to the entrance. "I've always wanted to see it."
"I've never been." Emma had only been fifteen at the time and while she remembered it (who didn't?), she'd had more pressing problems at the time. "But I'd like to."
"There's talk of doing something like it at Whitehall," Killian said. "To honor the dead." He and Liam were among the lucky ones. They'd both lost colleagues and friends. They still sometimes had nightmares, even though they were doing much better. In some ways, it felt like another life. The only constant was Emma. He would never forget her face when he woke up in the hospital. Like she was his own personal miracle.
Emma squeezed his arm in sympathy. She didn't like to think about the attack, about what she'd almost lost. So much had happened since then; none of them were the same. But this was. Their trio was stronger than ever, and this was the time to celebrate it.
They opted not to do the tour, preferring to wander on their own. It was a bit crowded, mostly families visiting for the weekend. Emma noticed that not everyone could go inside the pedestal; Killian explained that those tickets were hard to get and had to be purchased in advance. The amount of work they put in to make this trip special was incredible. She'd gotten them gifts for Valentine's Day, of course, but she always felt awkward about giving gifts. What if they hated them?
The only gift they truly wanted was time. Before this trip, they were so busy, so stressed out all the time; they needed this to find their center again.
"Shall we do the museum first, then go back outside?"
"Sounds good." Emma was pleased to see there was a cafeteria on the grounds; they could have lunch before they went back into the city. Killian was like a little kid, soaking in all the history and engineering. Emma was surprised to see the guy who built the Eiffel Tower on the walls. She never knew he helped build the Statue.
"Feels like coming full circle, doesn't it?" Liam said, standing next to her at the display. "I bet the view will be just as spectacular."
"It's a good thing none of us are afraid of heights," she joked, taking his arm.
He laughed. "True. And a good thing too. Otherwise, we'd have to move."
Emma shuddered. "Yeah, let's not." She slipped her hand into his larger one. "You guys really went all out for this trip." They had on every trip the trio had taken, but this one felt different because of Emma's conflicted emotions regarding her life here. She didn't recognize the person she'd been then. She'd changed so much since allowing the Jones boys into her life.
"I'm hoping that's a compliment?"
"Oh, it is." She smiled up at him. "A girl could get used to this, you know."
"That's always my hope, love. You deserve everything."
"I already have everything I could ever want. All this is just the icing on top."
"Emma, I know things have been rough lately…"
"Do not apologize, Liam. We always knew things wouldn't always be good. But I'm glad we took this trip. It's been nice to get away from all that craziness for a while."
"I never expected any of this to happen," he said honestly. "When we asked you to come to London."
"What did you expect?"
He chuckled. "Honestly, I'm not sure. All I knew was that didn't want you to walk out of my life. It was torture, wondering if I'd ever see you again."
"I didn't mean to upend your life, Liam."
"Oh, I know, love. I think all of us got a lot more than we bargained for when we walked into that club."
It was her turn to laugh. "I wouldn't change anything about us," she said honestly. "Okay, maybe the almost getting blown up part."
"Not a fun time for me either." His injuries had been a walk in the park compared to Killian's; even now with his brother fully recovered, the guilt of almost losing him would hit him now and again. Killian was his best friend, they'd had each other's backs since they were children. Liam had stupidly allowed his own stubbornness and jealousy jeopardize that, nearly losing the two people he loved most in the world. Never again. No matter what the world threw at them, they would stick together.
"It's bigger than I thought it would be."
"What, babe?"
Killian pointed. "The torch. See?"
The original torch stood in front of them, the original copper gone, replaced with glass panels. The display showed how they tried to use it as a lighthouse for boats entering the harbor. "I remember it looking like this in movies and stuff. It's kinda ugly."
"That's probably as good a reason to replace it as any."
"Remind me never to put one of those stained glass lamps in our house."
"I don't know. One might look good in the office."
"Which bedroom is becoming an office?"
"I think it was mine," Killian said with a shrug.
Liam went to read about the construction of the pedestal, leaving Emma and Killian to wander. "You're not going to miss having your own space?" she asked, curious.
"Do you?"
"I asked you first."
Killian shook his head. "Liam and I shared a room as children. I missed him when he went off to the Academy, even though I was too stubborn to admit it. And I had my hands full with Mum and school. When I graduated and we both discovered we would be stationed in London, there was no question about us renting a place together. I hoped it would help bridge the gap, and it did, to a point. But he was still the bossy older brother, you know?"
Emma nodded. She adored him, but Liam's broken childhood did damage that they were still unraveling. Like her, he'd been forced to grow up far too soon. It made him overprotective of those he loved. He'd come a long way in the time they'd been a trio; she was so proud of him. Killian had changed too, finding a self-assurance he'd not had before. He was his own man now, finally standing outside his brother's shadow. She loved them both so much.
"And now?"
"I wish Mum could see us now. Happily married and closer than we've ever been. All because of you, my love."
She blushed. "I didn't do anything."
"You most certainly did. You reminded us that we could still be happy. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you."
"Yeah, right."
Killian shook his head. "You shine, Emma. You always have." He kissed her hairline. "Come on, let's climb to the top of old Lady Liberty, yeah?"
"Okay." They went to get Liam; it was going to be a long climb. Access was limited so there were far fewer people queueing up to entrance. Liam led the way, with Emma in the middle and Killian bringing up the rear. The scent of sea and salt and metal was strong; Emma wrinkled her nose in distaste. The view was supposed to be amazing, so they kept going. Emma was grateful for all the yoga and leg work she did in her workouts; they passed more than one person who was huffing and puffing. The staircase was narrow; there was hardly room for more than one person at time. They did pause once to catch their breath; Emma thought they might be around the shoulders of the statue? It was hard to tell from the inside. Her legs burned with the effort; she was sweating in her coat. It was cold, but she couldn't feel it.
Liam held out his hand at the top of the stairs; Emma accepted it gratefully. "Damn, that's farther than I thought it would be."
"Worth it though."
"Maybe for my ass. It'll look really good in lingerie," she whispered.
"You always look amazing, love."
"Are you two done flirting?" Killian said with a good natured roll of his eyes. "There's a pretty incredible view out here."
Emma moved in beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Oh wow," she said softly. "This is amazing."
"Told you." He flashed her a dimpled grin. "And there's no one else I would rather share it with."
"Me too." She kissed him, simply needing the sensation of his lips on hers. These were the kinds of moments that lingered. Standing on top of the world with the men she loved.
They lingered in the crown a bit longer than they probably should have, but they were enjoying the view of the harbor. Liam and Killian pointed out all the boats sailing by, including a tiny sailboat. "I'd like one like that," Liam murmured.
"Oh yeah," Emma replied. "That would be nice. Would you teach me how to sail?"
"Of course, lass. I bet we could rent a boat in the spring. Go sailing down the Thames?"
"I'd like that." They'd done something like that in France; she knew how badly Liam had wanted a ship of his own. The Navy may have squashed that dream, but that didn't mean they couldn't find a new one. She liked the water; almost every place she'd lived after she got out of prison was near the water. New York, Boston, Chicago, Tallahassee. Was it any wonder she fell in love with two naval officers?
The climb down was much easier than the climb up. Still, Emma felt a sense of accomplishment when they reached the bottom. This felt like one of those school outings she'd missed out on as a kid, moving from place to place. She had to admit, it was much more fun as an adult.
They got a late lunch in the little dining hall. Nothing fancy, but enough to sate their hunger until they returned to the city.
"Good day so far?" Liam asked as they waited for the ferry.
"Yeah. This was fun."
"Perhaps we should do more things like it at home."
"How about when it gets warmer." Emma rubbed her hands together, even though she was wearing gloves. "There's something to be said for spending chilly winter nights at home."
He grinned. "Indeed there is."
His smile warmed her, all the way to her toes. Maybe she could convince them to skip the memorial for a more intimate evening in.
Present
Emma leaned back in her chair, her shoulders aching from being restrained so long. How long had she been here? She thought she'd been gone a day, maybe less. At least, she hoped so. She knew the longer she was missing, the more difficult it would be for the boys to find her. From what she'd gleaned from Neal and his cronies, the city was crawling with police. It was profoundly fucked up, but Emma was smart enough to know she fit the profile. Young, white, blonde. They made movies of the week about women like her.
She grit her teeth in frustration; she would be damned if she became some dumbass movie. She wasn't the naïve girl Neal remembered, the girl he took advantage of for free sex and a fall guy. She had a career, a marriage, people who loved her. She had no intention of just sitting around and waiting to be rescued.
Not that she would be upset if the boys rescued her. Emma hadn't quite figured out how to get away from Neal and his minions; she would take any help she could get. She simply had to keep her eyes open, seeking an opportunity and exploiting it. In the meantime, she would play along. At least not overly resist. She wasn't letting Neal touch her if she could help it.
The very idea made her sick.
Since his outburst, he'd backed off, but she knew he was watching her. There was a slightly manic lustful gleam in his eye, like he was mentally undressing her. It made her skin crawl. Her only salvation was that he wanted her to want him. She was cautiously optimistic that he wouldn't force himself on her. No, the sick bastard wanted her to love him.
"The shipment's almost ready, boss," the previously scolded Ed informed Neal. "What should we do about her?"
"Leave her to me." Neal rose and approached Emma. "How are you, Ems? Hungry? Thirsty?"
"My head hurts like a bitch, but I'm good." In truth she was starving, but she didn't trust that he wouldn't drug her. It was clear that he intended on taking her somewhere; the chaos of moving from one place to another might be her only chance to escape. Provided her ankles were uncuffed. She wouldn't going anywhere if they carried her.
"The doctor didn't give you any painkillers? Emma, I'm trying to help you here."
She laughed in his face; it was so fucking ridiculous! "Kidnapping me is not help, Neal. Why can't you just let me go?"
His eyes darkened for a fraction of a second; she thought he might slap her again. His fingers twitched but nothing more. "Do you know what I've done for you? I had to work my way up, Emma. I had to fight to stay alive every day, so that I could take out the bastard who threatened you. I saved your life!"
"You're fucking delusional, Neal. I don't love you! What can't you understand that? Just let me go and I'll forget I ever saw you. We can go our separate ways." She was begging, but she needed to protect Killian and Liam. They might not be able to forgive her for placing them in danger, but as long as they were alive, that was all that mattered.
"Why? So you can go back to those sick bastards? I almost wish they were here now, so we could put an end to all this."
"Don't," Emma whispered. "If you care about me at all, Neal, please. Just let them go. They've done nothing."
"They tried to take you from me. Made you believe they love you. I'm the only one who loves you, Emma. Just me."
"They do love me!" she cried. "You don't even know what it fucking means! Because it's not this, Neal. It's not." Killian and Liam helped show her the kind of life she deserved; she would be damned if she let Neal take that from her.
"Come along like a good girl and they get to live. You know my terms, Emma." With that, he walked away, sliding his phone out of his pocket. Emma strained to hear; whatever was happening, it would be going down soon. She needed a plan and she needed it fast.
Liam shoved his burden into a hard metal chair; Killian cuffed him to it, forcing the man's shoulders back painfully. Graham whimpered softly, his face caught in a grimace. Good, Killian thought. Let the bastard squirm.
"Where is Emma?"
Graham forced one eye open; the other was already starting to swell. Killian had been forced to punch him in the face once in the last hour. They'd had to duck into an alley to avoid a police car. The boys would call the police, as soon as they had the information they needed. They weren't leaving without having a lead on Emma.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Bullshit," Killian snapped. "We know you're involved with the Forsaken. We know they took Emma."
"I'm a cop, genius. Why would I get involved with the mob?"
"Money? I don't know why you're playing dumb," Liam continued. "The cops are already on to you. It's why you were trying to run."
"Cops don't fair well in prison, do they, brother?" Killian observed. His hand hurt, one knuckle cracked and bleeding, but he didn't care. It was nothing compared to whatever Emma was going through.
Liam shrugged. "Oh, I doubt it's the police he's running from. Most likely his old friends."
"Good point. Who was your friend, Graham? Who was trying to help you disappear?"
"Fuck you, you sick bastards."
Liam growled, pressing his knee dangerously close to the gap between Graham's knees. One sharp thrust and the man would be in agony. "Jealous Emma wouldn't have you?" he muttered. "I saw what she did to you. You squealed like a little girl."
"I never wanted her, asshole. She was an assignment, nothing more." He grinned at Liam. "Not that I would have said no, if she wanted to take a tumble. She's alright."
Liam snapped, jerking his knee forward. Graham howled in pain, trying to double over but unable to. The cuffs held him securely. "Don't you ever speak of her that way again, do you understand?"
"Liam." Killian laid a hand on his brother's arm. He wanted a piece of this wanker too, but they needed to find Emma. She could be halfway out of the country by now. She could be hurt or worse. He shivered. We're coming for you, Emma, he thought. Hang on a little longer, love.
Killian turned to Graham. "There's only one way out of this for you. Tell us where they've taken her. She's all we want."
"Screw you."
Graham stared at the ground, refusing to budge. Liam drew Killian aside. "I'm sorry, Killian. I wasn't thinking."
"He deserved it," Killian replied, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder. "But we need to keep our wits about us. Emma's out there, brother. We're going to find her." It was unlike anything they'd ever faced. Leaning on each other was the only way to get through it. Without Emma, they risked being too reckless. She needed them to do this the right way. Although, Killian didn't think she'd be too upset if they had to rough up their guest a little bit.
He returned to their guest. "Just how do you think this is going to end? Either you tell us where they've taken her…"
"Or what? You'll kill me?" Graham laughed. "I'm a dead man either way. Besides, you don't have the balls to kill me."
Killian tightened his fist and rammed it into the other man's stomach. Graham cried out again, winded and straining against his restraints. If they kept this up, he would probably dislocate a shoulder. Killian wasn't overly concerned about the man's health. "You're right," he said, voice deadly serious. "We're not going to kill you. But if you'll stand a damn sight better chance of staying alive in prison than on the street." This bastard could be an important witness for any case against the Forsaken; surely the government had the means to protect him, even in jail? Killian didn't like to think about it—anything about his father left a bad taste in his mouth—but he was fairly certain that was why Ioan was still alive. These parasites worked in the same criminal underworld. Ioan hadn't given anything up yet, but perhaps it was just a matter of time? He'd helped them when there was nothing in it for him.
Killian mentally shook himself; there would be time to worry about Ioan later. Right now, the priority was to bring Emma home safely. Although, he had no doubt that she was trying to get back to them too. She was resourceful that way.
"Who is this Vatra? Why does he want Emma?" Liam demanded. He was itching to punch this lowlife again, but he had to be patient. At least appear to be reasonable.
Graham stared at them. "You really don't know, do you?"
"What the hell are you on about, mate?" Killian shot back. "Why should we know who the head of a bloody Russian crime syndicate is?" Ioan was involved in the underworld, but until a few months ago, they hadn't seen him in years. Decades. He'd vanished off the earth, "protecting" them. It was all rubbish, but that wasn't Killian's problem.
"He's been keeping tabs on her for years. I was just the latest in a long line. I wasn't ordered to get into her pants, but I would have if she'd been interested."
Liam moved behind Graham and yanked hard on his bound arms. Graham howled again, louder. They were in an abandoned subway control room; there was no one to hear him scream. As soon as they were done, they'd leave an anonymous tip, so the cops could pick him up. "Who's been keeping tabs? And why?"
Graham sucked in a breath, his eyes watering. "Neal," he gasped. "Neal Cassidy."
Liam stared at Killian in shock. Neal Cassidy? Emma's ex? The one who left her to rot in prison after getting her pregnant? Liam knew Emma never attempted to contact that wanker from jail; she despised him. Quite rightly too. "That doesn't make sense."
"I had to figure it out for myself," Graham muttered, still wincing in pain. "I thought it was weird, you know? Keeping tabs on some random American girl? Once I found out the Vatra's real identity, it all made sense."
"And you never told Emma that her ex was stalking her?" Killian took another swing at the helpless man, letting his fear and frustration get the better of him for a moment. "God knows what he wants with her! I swear, if he hurts her…"
Liam let Graham go and went to his brother. "Killian, breathe. We can't question him if he's unconscious."
Killian sagged; he saw from Liam's hard gaze that he was just was angry and upset as Killian. Hanging on by a thread. They wouldn't last much longer. Knowing Emma was in the hands of that…Killian thought he hated Neal before. Now he wanted to end him with his bare hands. "Emma…she's…we need…"
Liam nodded. "I know, brother. I know." Once he was sure Killian was in control, he turned back to Graham. "You're going to tell us where they've taken her. You're going to tell us right now or I won't pull him back next time. And once he's done with you, we'll leave you to fucking rot in here, do you understand me? Nod once."
Graham glanced between them, then nodded once, as Liam instructed. His eye had swelled to twice its normal size; at least one shoulder was painfully out of joint. Ragged, dirty, cuffed, Graham's breathing sounded more like a wheeze. There was no food or water in the little room; the door locked from the outside. If they left him there, he would no doubt die from dehydration. Was prison a better option? His only hope was if they actually caught Neal. If he helped the cops hunt down one of the most wanted men in the world, then he might be safe. From the Forsaken. Bastards he put in prison was another matter.
He'd take his chances.
"The docks," he said at last. "There's a boat that's due to sail at seven, seven thirty."
"The police are covering the docks. Do you think we're idiots?"
Graham shook his head. "Barge. Industrial, you know? Those big metal containers?"
Liam's eyes widened. Christ, there were thousands of them. There was no way to search them all. "What's the name of the ship?"
"The Seafire."
Killian looked at his watch. It was nearly four in the afternoon. They didn't have much time.
Emma remained very still as Billy uncuffed her feet. Wherever they were going, it looked like it was time. It was February; the sun was already starting to set. Did they want to move her under the cover of darkness? That could be a blessing and curse. If she managed to get away, they would be hampered in any pursuit. But so would she. The docks were a maze; it would be so easy to get lost.
Worry about that later, she scolded herself. Focus.
"Are you gonna be good if I take these off?"
Emma blinked. Billy was pointing at the cuffs on her wrists. The bandages prevented them from chaffing, but her skin was starting to itch. She suspected the gauze needed to be changed. She glanced around; Ed was nearby, a gun on his shoulder. He wasn't even looking at her, but Emma knew this wasn't the time to test her luck. "I won't make trouble." Yet.
Billy looked skeptical, but he had to uncuff her whether he wanted to or not. They couldn't march her through the dock area cuffed to a chair. She thought there may not be cuffs at all, but the rope was back. As soon as she stood, he cinched her arms behind her, forcing her chest out. It was humiliating. It pissed her off. It was like Neal was deliberately using his so called insight against her. Did he think she would enjoy being tied up like an animal? When she played with her boys, she was the one in control. Surrendering to them was the ultimate form of trust; this was…the complete opposite.
"You're a bit young to be…whatever you are," Emma said quietly. "Minion? Lackey?"
"Shut up."
But she refused to give up. For the first time since the accident, her head was clear. She needed to think if she was going to get out of this. "I don't think you want to be here. I don't think you have the faintest idea what you've gotten yourself into. I can help you. Just help me get out of here. Please."
Billy refused to look her in the eye, but he shook his head. "Shut. Up."
"She givin' you trouble, Billy?" Ed said, crossing the room.
"Nope. I got this, Ed."
Ed looked her up and down. "Not such a smart mouth on you now, is there?" He leered at her and Emma suppressed a shiver. "Not sure what the boss sees in you though." He shrugged. "Not my problem." He turned to Billy. "Keep an eye on her, the packages are almost loaded. We're supposed to have her there by six."
Emma saw Neal about thirty feet away, talking on his phone. Was he speaking Russian? She didn't have any experience with it, but it was definitely foreign. Some of the boxes that were being loaded onto a flatbed truck were labeled in Russian. How the hell did Neal get involved with the Russian mob? Was that who ordered the terrorist bombing? Neal said he'd done a favor for a friend. Hadn't Killian mentioned something about the Russians in his investigation? She wished she could remember exactly, but the memory was just out of reach.
She hurt. Her awareness was no longer fuzzy, but her body hurt. She was probably covered in bruises from the crash; her arms were covered in gauze from her attempts to free herself. Her clothes were torn; it was cold in the warehouse. Billy saw her shivering; he took off his coat and rested it on her shoulders. Chivalry from a gangster? Or was he more worried about Neal's reaction if he saw that she was cold?
That was her one advantage. The longer she spent in Neal's company, the more certain she was that he didn't want to hurt her. He nearly ripped Ed a new asshole for letting her get hurt in the car crash. No, Neal wanted her unharmed. Oh, he could hurt her—the pain in her cheek had dimmed to a dull ache—but no one else could.
Her arms were now concealed by the coat; as carefully as she could, she started to work one wrist free from the ropes. It was easier this time, since the gauze on her forearms protected her from rubbing and chafing. The angle hurt though. Her shoulders ached fiercely from being bound so long, but she couldn't let that stop her. She would need her arms for balance when she made a run for it.
As she worked, she tried to take mental notes of everything around her. Neal seemed supremely confident, assuming that she wasn't going to try and escape. He'd threatened her boys; the easy thing to do would be to play the submissive prisoner and take it on faith that Neal wouldn't attempt to do them harm anyway. She knew him better than that. At least now she did. Even if she stayed with Neal, her boys would never be safe. She had to get out of there, so she could help put Neal behind bars where he belonged.
He deserved a lot worse, but she'd take prison. As long as he couldn't threaten her or her family again, she would be happy.
God, her boys. She missed them so much. She couldn't shake the guilt she felt for bringing this whole mess into their lives; everything that happened to them since she met them was her fault. If only they'd never met again in New York! They could have found normal relationships, had the families they wanted without her and all her baggage. They'd been ridiculed, threatened, blown up, betrayed by their own father. Why couldn't she just choose one? Why did she have to love them both? Why couldn't she have simply forgotten them and moved on with her life?
What life? She asked herself. Catching skips and eating microwave dinners every night was not a life. It was hell. She'd believed herself safe there, all alone. She couldn't have been more wrong. After all they'd been through, they remained by her side, loving her. Would this be any different? She hoped not. She hoped they could forgive her. She didn't know what she would do if she lost them.
"Time to get moving, princess," Billy muttered, yanking her by the arm. His hand was on the outside of the coat; he still couldn't see her hands. Emma fought to keep her face impassive as they walked; she didn't dare give herself away until the last moment. If she could manage it, she would make a run for it on the busy docks.
Emma kept her head up, glancing around as unobtrusively as she could. She didn't want to broadcast what she was planning. One wrist was almost free! She noted the men around her, the industrial equipment, the crates. She wondered if they were filled with guns. Or worse. She remembered vividly some of the things that Ioan's "friends" were involved in; she was actually thankful that Neal had a personal interest in her. Her situation could have been so much worse.
Although, if she pissed Neal off enough…
No. She was getting out of here. She was going home to her boys, praying they would forgive her for this latest mess she had gotten them into.
Still, it didn't hurt to observe all she could. If she did manage to get out of this, anything she saw could be used to put Neal and his cronies behind bars. Something she dearly, dearly wanted.
Billy poked her in the back from behind; she seemed to be moving too slowly for him. Too bad. She had to blink quickly as they emerged outside; it was brighter than inside the dim warehouse. The scent of the sea hit her nose; her heart thumped, the smell instantly reminding her of her boys. She was certain they were looking for her, she could feel it in her bones; she just hoped they didn't do anything rash. She was so worried about them. She didn't even know for sure if they were still safe. Neal might have simply killed them out of spite.
Stop being so negative, Emma, she scolded herself. They're fine. They have to be.
The sounds of the docks were loud, louder than she expected. The concrete and steel of the warehouse muffled the harsh sounds: metal scraping, men yelling, forklifts backing up. She spotted several cranes lifting enormous steel containers onto long flat barges. She suspected one of them was meant for her. Locked in a tin can with Neal for days? No, thank you. She swore if he so much as touched her again she would fine a way to rip his balls off. She was not anyone's possession.
More of Neal's men surrounded her in a loose square formation; she spotted at least three handguns. 9mm? The caliber didn't matter; any of them could kill her. Neal was behind them (probably admiring her ass, the perv), muttering into his phone. She knew he was armed, gun tucked almost carelessly into the waistband of his pants.
She bit her lip as she continued to work her right arm free. The motion of her body masked her movement somewhat, but if she wasn't careful, even Billy would know what she was up to. She kept count of the ships they passed, alternating with the skyline. She needed a landmark to follow. Every movie ever said that places like this could be a maze; once she did get free, she didn't want to get lost. She could see the bridge…was that the Freedom Tower? The sun was setting, the buildings across the river were starting to shine like vertical beacons.
Neal appeared at her shoulder. "Almost there, baby. Ready to leave this godforsaken place?"
Emma suppressed a shudder. "Don't. Touch. Me."
He grabbed her shoulders; Emma had to force her arms to stay behind her back. The sudden movement finally yanked her arm free of the ropes. Now loose, she caught them in her hand before they could fall to the ground. "You'll learn to behave soon enough. Otherwise," he took out her necklace and swung it in front of her face, then tossed it directly in the path of one of the huge forklifts. Emma watched in horror as the metal was twisted and ruined under thousands of pounds of pressure.
"No," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes. It was just metal, but that necklace was the first real gift her boys had ever given her. Her favorite. God, she wanted to kill him with her bare hands! But she had to be calm. Getting out of here was the most important thing. "What happened to you, Neal?"
"I grew up, Ems. Just like you." He leered at her one more time, then backed off. Emma let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The march resumed but came to a stop soon after. They really were close. A ship called the Seafire loomed above them; another crane loaded containers slowly.
"Keep an eye on her," Neal spat at Billy. Emma yelped as Billy yanked her back away from the ship; Neal disappeared. Presumably to talk to the captain? She didn't know how long he would be gone; this might be her best chance to make a run for it. Still, she waited. She needed a distraction.
"Bathroom," she said, adding some strain to her voice. "I gotta use the bathroom."
"No bathrooms here," Billy said, still holding her arm. It was her left, the one still holding the ropes that no longer bound her.
She started rocking on the balls of her feet. "I can't wait," she spat. She might sound like a petulant child, but at this point, she didn't care. "So unless you want Neal to see I peed myself like an infant, then you better help me."
She saw the war going on behind his eyes. Ultimately, his sense of self preservation won out. "Fine. But don't try anything."
The moment they started to move the odious Ed stopped them. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"She's gotta piss," Billy said, his grip tightening on her arm. If it wasn't for the coat, she might have bruises.
"So?"
"I'm not like you, Ed," she snapped. "I don't pee standing up." She looked him up and down. "But now that you mention it…maybe you do squat?" She was being crude on purpose. God knew she'd heard worse, both in prison and after. "Neal stolen your balls?" It was still so hard for her to believe that the man she knew could become some hardened crime lord.
Ed's hand twitched on his gun; Emma held her breath. At the end of the day, he was afraid of Neal; they all were. "Fine. But there and back, do you hear?"
Emma ignored him and let Billy guide her to the nearest bathroom. It smelled awful, but it would have to do. She looked around; there was no sign indicating if it was a men's or women's. It probably didn't matter. She did stop short when Billy tried to come in with her. "Do you mind?"
The young man flushed; Emma almost felt sorry for him. He really was too young to be wrapped up with gangsters. But that was the least of her problems. "The ropes," he said finally.
"Oh these?" She almost smiled as she handed them to him, his eyes wide as saucers. "Don't worry; your asshole of a boss yanked my arm free with his little 'talk.' Your secret is safe with me." She nodded once, then turned to step inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. She had to be quick. She took stock the room around her: single toilet, sink, a soap dispenser that looked like it had seen better days. There were no windows. Four walls of solid concrete blocks. Shit. What was she supposed to do now?
She paced back and forth, her eyes scanning the cramped space for anything she might have missed. A loose block, pipe, something. But there was only one way in and one way out. And the way out only led back to Neal. Or did it? She hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but she might have a chance at overpowering the kid. Emma was well versed in self-defense; she and the boys sparred all the time back home. It might be her only chance.
Just as she thought it; there was a knock on the door. "What's going on in there? The boss is waiting." Emma could hear Billy's nerves. She hastily flushed the toilet and turned on the tap like she was washing her hands.
"Just a minute!"
She counted to ten and made a rush for the door. It opened out; she planned on using that too her advantage. A quick turn of the knob allowed her to shove the door forward, hard. It connected with her captor, knocking hum backwards. Not quite off his feet, but it was enough. She landed and upper cut to his jaw—ignoring the pain the blossomed in her hand—then kicked him to the ground. She thought about tying him up but there wasn't time. She needed to run. Now.
She sprinted back the way they had come, where the crowds were thickest. She heard Billy shout behind her, but she put it out of her mind. One foot in front of the other. The fumes from the cranes and equipment threatened to make her head spin, her chest quickly started to hurt. She'd been in a car accident not two days ago and she could feel it now. She pushed herself harder, shoving people out of her way, dodging others.
She was a hundred yards away when she heard the first gunshot. It ricocheted off steel; Emma flinched, but did not stop. Her speed was impeded by people and machines; people scrambled to get away from the shots. She heard a couple go down, screams of agony filling her ears.
"Stop shooting, you idiots," Neal screamed. "You'll kill her!"
"Fuck that crazy bitch!" someone—Ed, Emma thought—yelled back.
Someone call the cops, she thought frantically. Surely gunshots down at the docks would draw in the police? The port authority? Someone? Another shot struck uncomfortably close; Emma ducked instinctively, nearly falling. She managed to get her feet under her, ducking behind one of the huge metal containers. Carefully, she turned, poking her head out long enough to see Neal in the distance shoot down one of his own in broad daylight.
Holy shit.
Think, Emma. Get out of here before he finds you. Choosing quickly, she moved left, deeper into the container maze. She thought she heard sirens, more men shouting. If she could get out of here, she could find the nearest subway station and get the fuck out. Or a bus. She didn't have any money or anything, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. She heard more voices, closer now, and Emma froze. Listening. She'd been near the warehouse where she'd been held—at least she thought—when she hid.
"Jesus," someone—a man—breathed. "She could be anywhere."
Emma's jaw dropped. No. It couldn't be. It was simply too insane. She could have sworn that was Killian's voice!
"Keep looking. Graham said she'd be here."
Liam? Graham? She was very confused, but her heart was in her throat. Did she dare call out? She agonized for a several long seconds, praying her ears were not deceiving her. "Killian? Liam? Is that you?"
"Bloody hell, Emma?" The anguished hope in Killian's voice broke her heart. "Where are you?"
She looked around. "Here? Um, blue crate…" Number, there had to be a number! "1138!" Dual footfalls sounded to her left, she spun around to see them coming around the corner. They held each other's gaze for a long second before Emma ran into their arms, a sob tearing at her throat. All the fear and worry and anguish she'd felt since she'd seen them last crashed into her all at once; her legs would no longer hold her up. Killian held her tightly to his chest—almost too tightly—Liam hugging them both. Tears flowed freely; the trio collapsed to the ground in a heap, not letting go for a single second.
"Emma," Liam murmured into her hair. He didn't even try to halt the tears that coarsed down his cheeks; he couldn't believe she was truly in his arms. They'd found her.
Killian didn't know how long they remained that way; it was nearly completely dark when he felt Emma cry herself out. His lips brushed her brow, her bruised lips. "Shhh, darling. We've got you now. You're safe."
Emma clung to him, exhausted. She couldn't muster the energy to be the tough girl right now, but she knew they wouldn't judge her. Her hand found Liam's, needing all the contact she could get. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Liam stroked her back. "None of this is your fault, sweetheart. Rest."
She shook her head. "All my fault."
Killian gently handed her to his brother, so he could look her over. Her lip and cheek sported some bruises, her arms were wrapped in gauze. He spotted some stitches at her hairline. "Emma," he said seriously, "how do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a truck," she replied honestly. "Everything hurts."
"We need to get her to hospital," Liam said, lifting one of her bandaged arms. "What happened here?"
"Rope burns," she said matter of factly. "Trying to get free."
"That's my girl." He kissed her lips gingerly; she didn't flinch. "Missed you so much, love."
"Missed you guys too."
"Can you walk, darling?" Killian asked. The cops were crawling everywhere; he wondered if they could sneak Emma away without being seen. They would need to question her, of course, but he didn't want her dealing with any of that now. He wanted to make sure she got looked at, then they were taking her home.
"Can and want are two different things," she said, tiredness crashing over her in waves. She could walk, but part of her just wanted to be taken care of.
"Easy fix then," Liam said. Killian helped Emma stand, then Liam picked her up bridal style. "Relax, Emma. I've got you."
She did so, feeling safe for the first time since the accident. She heard Killian on the phone, talking to someone. "Will? Will's here?"
Liam nodded. "The cavalry arrived this morning," he informed her. "Will, Robin, Mary Margaret, David, Ruby and Victor. Regina too."
"Regina?"
"She threatened to sue the city," Killian announced. "Our friends at the police weren't too happy about it."
"She's been very worried about you," Liam added quietly. "They all have."
Emma swallowed around the lump in her throat. She had people who cared about her! A whole family of people who loved and accepted her. It was almost too much for her to handle. She had so many questions, but no longer had the voice to ask them. She just wanted to sleep in the arms of her boys. She wanted to be safe and warm and loved.
"There ya are, lass." Emma looked up; Will Scarlett stood at the end of the row, looking relieved. "Playing hide and go seek?"
"Never again," she said. She looked up at Liam, who set her on her feet. She closed the space between her and Will, hugging him tightly. She was so grateful that he'd come when Killian needed him the most. "Thank you."
"Yer family," he said simply, cheeks flushing. "Where else would I be?" He looked to Killian. "Place is crawlin' with coppers, best get down a few rows. Car's waitin'."
"Thanks, Will." Emma knew she needed to talk to the police, but she was too exhausted. She held both boys' hands in hers as they navigated through the containers to Will's waiting car. It still didn't feel real. She half expected herself to wake up and still be tied to that chair.
Killian saw the lost look on her face. "Hey, we're right here," he promised, threading their fingers together. "Not going anywhere."
"Sorry. I just…"
"We know, sweetheart," Liam finished for her. "It's okay." She'd just been through hell; he and Killian knew better than anyone that it was impossible to simply bounce back and be okay. She needed time to heal and not just physically. "Just stay with us, yeah?"
She gave him a grateful nod. "Yeah. I'm here. I want to talk. I'm just…"
"Tired?"
"Exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week."
"As long as you do so in our arms, I'm rather okay with that myself."
She gave Killian a weak smile. "Definitely." There was so much to say; she just wanted to soak every moment of this in. They'd found her. She'd freed herself, but they found her. She knew they would, but the lost little girl that still lived in her soul was in awe. No one had ever bothered to find her before. Kidnapping didn't count.
Killian hoped the police had managed to find Neal. He wished he could get five minutes alone in a room with that wanker, but he doubted it would happen. Emma was safe. That was what mattered. They would deal with the rest as it came.
When they arrived at a hospital, Emma only protested weakly before allowing them to admit her. She didn't trust that asshole who'd examined her earlier; she needed to know that she would be okay. The boys were forced to wait while the doctors sent Emma for tests.
They were still there an hour later when a very irate Detective Fa stepped off the elevator. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Liam set his jaw. "Taking care of our wife."
"I need to question her."
Killian ignored that. "Did you get him?"
"What?"
He stood, looming over the shorter woman. "Did. You. Get. Him."
Mulan placed her hands on her hips. "I don't answer to you."
"We're not letting Emma anywhere near you until we know she's safe from that monster. Understood?" He wasn't backing down; he didn't care if she arrested him. Emma's safety was paramount.
Mulan stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Cassidy's in custody. Some of his cohorts are dead."
"Good riddance," Liam said just loud enough for the detective to hear. He had no sympathy for people who held Emma against her will. The world was better off without people like that.
"Your sympathy is noted," Mulan said dryly. "Look, I know you want to protect her…"
"She's been through hell," Killian snapped. "You can ask your questions tomorrow, Detective."
"She's the best witness we've got," Mulan reminded them. "If Cassidy gets off on a technicality, it's on your heads."
"There are hundreds of witnesses to the shooting," Killian shot back, unconvinced. "At the very least, you can hold him on that until the morning. Emma needs to rest. We won't have you harassing her until she's ready to talk." She hadn't even said much to them yet; Killian would be damned if anyone pushed her before she was ready.
"I'll second a couple of uniforms down here to keep an eye out," Mulan conceded. "We're on the same team here." She'd warned them not to get involved, but it was too late now. She could already hear her supervisor's whine of complaint that a couple of British sailors managed to do what she and her team couldn't. They had found Emma Swan. The NYPD was caught with their pants down, unable to find a viable lead. She was shocked when word of the shooting came across the police band; Mulan didn't even realize the two cases were connected until a witness reported seeing two men lead a blonde woman away from the scene. Now her unit and organized crime were fighting for the right to prosecute the bastard who'd kidnapped Emma. It was a mess.
Liam watched the detective leave, not especially sorry to see her go. He was so worried about Emma; he didn't want to ask her to relive her experience any sooner than she had to. She'd done the same for him and Killian after the terrorist attack; he was grateful.
A nurse appeared. "You can see her now. She's asking for you."
Killian and Liam shared a look before heading down the hall to Emma's room. It was a standard double occupancy hospital room, but Emma was the only patient inside. She wasn't hooked up to any tubes or wires, thankfully; the thin hospital gown she wore did little to hide some of the bruises on her skin. "Emma? Sweetheart?" Liam said softly, approaching the bed. "Are you awake?"
Her eyes fluttered open. "Unfortunately."
Killian stood on the right side of her bed, slipping his hand into hers. "Did they give you anything?"
Emma shook her head. "Just some Tylenol. I don't want to be out of it again. Not sure how long I was unconscious."
Liam tenderly stroked her brow. "Sleep might help you feel better."
"I don't wanna sleep." She was exhausted, almost too exhausted to sleep. She didn't want to admit it, but part of her was afraid that if she went to sleep, she'd wake to find all this a dream. She couldn't go back to that warehouse, not even in her dreams. "Sorry I ruined our vacation."
Killian shook his head firmly. "Don't you dare be sorry, love. You did nothing wrong."
"But I did. All of this is my fault." She didn't want to talk about it, but she knew she had too. If they were going to leave, then she wanted them to do it while her wounds were still fresh. "You've been in danger from the moment you met me."
Liam tilted his head. "I'm afraid you've lost me, darling."
Emma forced herself to sit up, using the button next to the bed to make her more comfortable. She was so, so sore. "It was Neal. The explosion at Whitehall? His…people set the bombs. Said he was doing a favor for a friend. He chose that target because of you. To kill you, both of you." She couldn't look at them, furious at herself for not seeing the signs sooner. It didn't matter that there was literally no way she could have known about Neal turning into a psycho. Someone from her past tried to murder people she loved, actually did kill a lot of innocents. She felt responsible.
Liam and Killian both stared at her in shock for a moment, then they both spoke at the same time. Liam won out. "Emma, are you sure?"
"He boasted about it. Claims to have been keeping tabs on me for years."
Killian nodded. "Graham said the same. Said he'd been sent to keep an eye on you."
Emma frowned. "Graham? You found him?"
"We called Ioan," Liam said softly. "He knew all about Neal's…associates. He didn't know Neal by name, but he gave us enough information to start looking. It didn't take long after that."
It was Emma's turn to be shocked. She knew how they felt about their dad. "You called him? For me?"
"Of course we did," Killian said, more harshly than he intended. He couldn't bear to see Emma flagellate herself like this. "Nothing is more important than you, love." His throat threatened to close up, but he forced himself to keep talking. "I don't care what you think you did, Emma. None of this is your fault. We love you and we're not going anywhere. Ever. Do you understand me?"
Liam, too, was close to tears. "All three of us have unsavory characters in our pasts, Emma. I've been wondering too, if we accidentally put you in danger. But none of us did. Please don't do this to yourself, my love. That bastard is at fault, not you."
"But all those people… they're dead because of me." A tear slipped down her cheek, then another and another until she was crying once more, all the pain she'd caused threatening to overwhelm her.
Killian and Liam wrapped their arms around, as best as the gurney would allow. She clung to them, their strength the only thing holding her together. This was why she'd all but cut herself off in the years before they came into her life. Emotions were painful; life was filled with hurt and tragedy and despair. She'd shielded herself from it with mile high walls; these two washed them away like they were tissue. Now they stood around her, protecting her, like knights.
"I know it doesn't feel like it now, sweetheart," Liam murmured into her hair, "but I promise you. You're not to blame. You're not. The person who is will pay." Even if Liam had to take care of it himself. He would never allow Neal to hurt the woman he loved again.
"Shhh," Killian soothed, stoking her hair. "It's alright, lass. We've got you."
At last, Emma raised her head. She wanted to believe that Liam was right. It would simply take time. "Stay?"
The quiver in her voice broke both of their hearts. "Wild horses couldn't drag us away, darling." Killian touched his lips to her forehead. "We'll simply have to improvise." When they'd been in the hospital, Emma slept on a cot between their beds. One look at Liam told him that neither of them wanted to be even that far away from Emma. They'd just gotten her back.
So they improvised. Liam shoved some equipment out of the way and dragged the other bed closer. They dropped the guard rail on one side of each bed and pushed them together. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. Liam kicked off his shoes and got into the empty bed while Killian did the same and squeezed into bed with Emma. She seemed to calm as they surrounded her; her sniffling stopped, and her eyes closed. But she wasn't asleep. Not yet.
"Kiss me?"
She sounded so fragile, but Liam did as she asked. He pressed his lips to hers, pausing to allow her to take the lead. Her hand found his neck, pulling him closer, her tongue touched the seam of his lips. He opened, deepening the kiss just enough to revel in that fact that this was real, and she was back in his arms. When she broke the kiss, she turned her head, but Killian was already there, his kiss filled with love and tenderness and longing.
For the first time since waking up in that warehouse, Emma felt peace.