Chapter XXIX

Queens, NY

Next day

He was hurting when he woke up. Dry mouth. Pounding head. Clammy skin. Aching bones.

Castle forced his eyelids to open, wincing at the pain caused by the light that hit his pupils.

He moved a hand over his eyes to shield them from the brightness, but forced himself to keep them open. It was a clumsy move, as if he couldn't quite get his arm to work and at first his hand ended up over his nose.

"Jesus…"

How hungover-or-still-drunk exactly was he?

He closed his eyes again, because he wanted to remember and it seemed like an impossible feat while that light stung his brain, making it pulse with pain.

The launch party.

He remembered mingling, chatting, drinking too much. But was it really that much? So much that he couldn't remember getting home? He hadn't been black-out drunk in a long, long time.

He opened his eyes again.

Damn. It hurt just to raise his eyelids.

But he kept his eyes open and this time he clumsily pushed himself up and when he did the entire room spun around him. The dizziness hit him so hard and fast that his stomach rebelled.

It was impossible to hold back the extreme nausea that hit him.

He tried to get up and make a dash for the bathroom but it was futile.

It all came up against his will and he threw up on the side of the bed.

And when he was done he noticed the other reason why he hadn't been able to get out in time.

One of his ankles was chained to the bed.

Lower East Side, NY

Last night was rough, and she was glad that, aside from a couple of cans of beer in her fridge, there'd been no alcohol in her house.

She'd torn off her expensive, sexy dress and curled into a sobbing ball. Had given in to the kind of grief and heartbreak that she'd long ago sworn she was no longer capable of.

How wrong she'd been.

Everything hurt so badly that in lieu of the vodka she'd once taken to drown out the pain, she'd reached into one of her drawers that still held some of her post-surgery meds and swallowed a prescription painkiller. She chased it down with one of Dr. Burke's sleeping pills. The ones she hadn't needed anymore after a week out in the Hamptons.

It successfully plunged her into oblivion for the next twelve hours, 2am to 2pm, and when she finally woke up, the pain wasn't nearly as devastating. What remained was a heavy blanket that weighed her down and made every step feel as though her limbs were carrying invisible bricks.

She took a cold shower and hissed when the water hit her Maddox-induced bruises. Cursed herself when they set off a new, steady stream of tears that had nothing at all do with the pain of that miserable rooftop fight.

When she got out of the shower, she was tempted to reach back into her drawer. Go for oblivion round two.

But after letting the water drip onto the tile for several long seconds she gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"Not this time," she muttered under her breath. This was not how she dealt with problems anymore. This kind of misery was how exactly she'd ended up meeting Castle in the first place.

She snickered at the irony of it all. Of having come full circle.

And she also realized that she was starving. As in stomach-hurting, hands-shaking and feeling-dizzy starving because she literally couldn't remember the last time she ate. It might have been breakfast the day before, although knowing her, without Castle around to whip something up at 7am, breakfast would have been just coffee.

However long ago it was, it was too long.

She dried off, slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and went to her favourite late-night Indian pit stop. A tiny restaurant, with only four tables, and at three in the afternoon she was greeted by the rare occurrence of two of them being empty. She ordered a hardy chicken korma and asked the smiling cook at the counter to make it extra spicy, and to serve it along with a generous side of garlic naan and a rich mango lassi to tame the heat.

At some point during the meal, she sent him a text. Because she'd be damned if she'd let him run off without at least looking her in the eyes and admitting how goddamn shallow he'd turned out to be.

-We need to talk

She remembered his words after his ex-girlfriend Sophia Turner had gotten under his skin: "…there is one thing that I am proud of. I'm not a cheater and I have no intention of ever being one."

She suddenly wondered how many women he'd used that line on.

Beckett wiped away another tear and checked her phone to see if he'd responded. Nothing.

On the way back home she stepped into a movie theatre and got tickets for the first movie that was playing. Hadn't even realized until she was seated that it was the John Woo double feature that Castle had wanted to take her to only a couple of days ago.

It made it hard to concentrate on the films but at least it killed more than [changed over to more than]three hours.

When she got out, and saw that he hadn't so much as looked at the text she sent, she wrote another one.

-Call me, you coward.

She made one more stop on the way home, a trendy little wine bar in the East Village, where she allowed the waiter to pour her an overpriced glass of Australian Shiraz. She nursed it slowly until a hand-holding couple next to her started kissing and suddenly her chest felt painfully tight again.

She gave the waiter a generous tip and left without finishing the wine.

She thought about walking aimlessly until she exhausted herself, but it was getting cold out and she hadn't worn a jacket. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to get sick.

So she made her way home, dreading the emptiness she'd find there.

Worst of all, given her current suspension, she couldn't even drown herself in a case.

Maybe tomorrow she'd go online and buy a flight out of New York. She didn't even care where she went as long as it was away from here. Away from everything that reminded her of him.

She took the stairs up to burn off the last bit of energy she had. Hoping it might help her get an early night's sleep.

What she didn't expect was to see Castle's daughter sitting in the hallway, next to her apartment door.

The teenager stood up as soon as she saw Kate emerge from the stairwell.

"Alexis?" Beckett cocked her head in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh…I wanted to see you."

"Is everything okay?"

Kate really had no desire to see her. Not after last night. But there was so much worry written on her beautiful face that it softened her irritation.

"I don't know," Alexis answered and for an instant the young woman's very-blue eyes reminded her so much of her father's that Kate had to look away. All of it was still too raw and she desperately wished that Alexis wasn't here.

Kate swallowed and opened her apartment door, gesturing for Alexis to step inside.

"Have a seat," she suggested but Alexis remained standing, close to the door.

"I went to the police," Alexis told her. "I'm worried about Dad."

"You went to the police?" Beckett didn't understand. "Why? What happened?"

"He's never done this…just disappeared like this."

Beckett tightened her lips as her anger came back. "Last night you made it very clear to me that he has done this before."

"No, not like this. Even when he did stupid things, and it's been a while since he has…there was never a time when he didn't answer my texts or calls. This time it looks like he hasn't even received them. Like his phone's been turned off."

"Show me."

Alexis reluctantly pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and handed it to her.

There was her father's text, the one Kate had seen the night before last. The one she could barely bring herself to look at again.

And then there must have been a dozen or so from Alexis. She read a handful that caught her eye.

-Dad where are u?

-Call me

-Daaaad…come ON, what is wrong with you? Gram's getting worried. So am I.

-Seriously Dad this is not funny

-I'm gonna go to the police. I mean it

-Dad you're scaring me. Please, PLEASE call

As Alexis said, none of them came up as delivered. He'd either turned off his phone. Or lost it.

Or more likely, he was so caught up in his little sexcapade that the battery was dead and whoever he was with didn't have the right charger.

"See what I mean?"

"I see but all this means is his phone's dead. If he's…busy, it happens."

"I'm telling you that he doesn't do this! He's never ignored me like this."

Kate exhaled. This was the last thing she'd expected tonight. Calming down the teenage daughter of the man who'd just cheated on her. She felt for her, Alexis, she really did, but she was not in the mood for it.

"Look…you made it clear that your Dad was upset last night. We had a fight and he obviously took it harder than I thought he would and he…"

"I know you two had a fight," Alexis cut her off. "But he wasn't upset."

She was taken aback. "You know?"

"Dad told me," Alexis replied. "He told me you kicked him off your last case. That you were going after the guy who shot you."

Beckett stared at her. "He told you? All that?"

"Dad's always been honest with me. He knows he can trust me. I even asked him if you guys were breaking up."

"And…?"

"He said no, he hoped that you weren't. He was mostly just scared for you. Scared that something bad might happen to you."

"But last night…"

"Last night, I was upset, okay?" Alexis confessed, suddenly unable to look her in the eyes anymore. "Sure he was disappointed that you weren't there, but I was upset for him." Alexis was close to tears. "I was upset because my Dad is so crazy about you. He basically wrote a whole book based on you and you couldn't even be bothered to show up for the launch! I thought he deserved better. And then when you did show up, looking the way you did…I guess I was jealous. I knew my Dad would forgive you the second he saw you." She finally looked up at her. "That pissed me off too. It's why I said the things I said." She wiped one of her eyes. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Kate was at a loss for words. Torn between wanting to throttle the teenager and wanting to wrap her arms around her. "Look…Alexis, you don't have to apologize. It's possible he wasn't as upset as I thought he was, or as you made me think he was, but it doesn't change what happened. He left the party with another woman and he sent you a text so that you wouldn't worry. Those are the facts."

"Are they?" Alexis shot back, her cheeks flushed red. "Are you sure he sent that text himself?"

She was clearly upset, so Kate made her sit down in her kitchen and poured her a glass of milk. It was either that or a glass of tap water or a can of beer. Such was the sad state of her fridge. "You went to the police because you think…there's foul play involved?"

"Yeah…"

"What did they say?"

"That…there nothing to suggest that he left against his will. That if I wanted to file a missing person report I should come back after 48 hours."

Kate frowned, thinking that surely it had to have happened more than 48 hours ago. It felt like a lifetime since she'd put on that dress for him. But one glance at her wall clock reminded her that he'd disappeared after midnight the night before last and now it wasn't even 10pm yet. It would be 48 hours soon. But not yet. Of course the police wouldn't do anything before then. "I see…"

"You're a detective, Kate. You have resources. Will you help me find him? Please?"

Kate closed her eyes. Maybe if her heart hadn't just been ripped to shreds she'd have had a hard time saying no. But it was. "Look…I'm not at work right now. I've been suspended. There's not much I can do."

"So you don't know how to be a cop anymore? Or you just don't care anymore?"

Kate bit her lip. Took a deep breath. Little Castle sure knew how to push her buttons. Much like Big Castle.

Any other time she might have admired the young woman's perseverance. "Fine," she conceded. "I can do some digging, but Alexis, if I find out that he's taken off with some old…friend, I'm not tracking your father down for you and dragging him back home, is that clear?"

"He's not!"

"How are you so sure all of a sudden?" Beckett demanded.

"You never caught his stalker did you?"

"What?" A chill ran down Beckett's spine. "Why would you think that Salvador Ojeda is involved in this?"

Alexis shrugged her shoulders. "I…I don't know. I just know something isn't right."

Kate sighed. "Look, it's late there's not much we can do tonight, but I'll call my partner, Kevin. Ask him reach out to the hotel where they had the party first thing tomorrow morning and ask for access to their cameras. Maybe we can see if he left with anyone, and if you want, I'll go to the police with you tomorrow and help you file a missing person's report, okay?"

"Okay," her voice choked and this time she couldn't hold back her tears. She looked as though a load had fallen off her slender shoulders.

"C'mere," Beckett pulled Alexis into a hug. Held her tight and let her cry for a long minute while she fought back her own tears. Then she reached over to her kitchen counter and grabbed two tissues.

"Thanks." Alexis blew her nose and wiped off her tears. "My Dad is crazy about you…I hope you know that. Yesterday didn't change that,"

Kate watched her leave the apartment and then wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled.

She'd been so certain that nothing could hurt more than losing him to an affair, but the dark, morbid thoughts that now ran through her mind were infinitely worse.

Queens. NYC

"Kate?"

Had she tied him up as a prank after he drank too much?

Castle groaned and closed his eyes. Normally, he could take a hangover, and a prank, on the chin. But now, he felt so damn miserable, even after he'd thrown up, so much so that he couldn't think straight.

"Kate…I'm sorry," he mumbled.

He forced his eyes open, wanting to clean up his mess. Not wanting her to do it.

Fuck.

How the hell did last night's party end like this? Last night was supposed to have been the beginning of something wonderful. Not…this.

He blinked hard to stop the room from swimming in his vision.

Goosebumps lined his arms.

He wasn't at home. This wasn't his bed. Or Kate's.

Breathe.

Calm down.

If I was this drunk, she probably checked me into the hotel where we had the party.

He blinked again.

Except this was not a hotel room. No alarm and telephone on the bedside table. No room service menu. No bland, generic art work on the walls. No desk or flat screen TV across from the bed.

Most disturbing of all, the only window was a shoebox-sized opening near the top of a wall.

Now that he took a closer look, there was nothing but a bed and four bare walls. Two doors. One at the foot of the bed and another beside it. Both of them closed.

He couldn't hold the panic at bay now. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He pushed himself up until he was sitting and winced at the force of the metal that pulled his ankle back.

The door at the foot of the bed opened and Salvador Ojeda stepped inside.

Castle's heart raced.

"You're awake." Salvador stared at the mess on the floor next to the bed. "I see you got sick."

"Sal…" Castle's mouth was so dry he could barely speak.

"It's okay, it's okay. Don't feel bad." Salvador told him. His English was flawless and he sounded as American as Alexis. Gone was the halting English he'd used when he was still a gardener at his Hamptons home. "I'm not upset. It's my fault. The drugs on top of all the alcohol you probably had last night…of course you're gonna be sick."

Drugs? Of course. That explained why this felt so much worse than a hangover.

"What do you want from me, Sal?" Castle pushed himself up against the backboard of the bed.

"Want?" Salvador's eyes widened, distressed by the question. Offended even. "No. It's not what you think. I didn't bring you here because I want something from you. For once in your life you're going to be with someone who's gonna give. Not take. The only thing I want is to save you from yourself."

"From myself…" The nausea was building up once more and he was afraid he was going to be sick again.

Ojeda shook his head in disdain. "This party life you're living. Sleeping with all these whores who don't love you. All the sex. Drinking too much." He eyed Castle's body with the slightest nod of disapproval. "Too much rich food that will end up killing you."

Castle shivered from the ice-cold chill that ran along his spine now. His head pounded ferociously. "So you kidnapped me? Against my will?"

"I had no choice. I love you and you don't know what's best for you."

"Sal…please. I know you don't want to do this," he pleaded. "You're hurting me by doing this and I know you don't want to…"

"I'm going to clean this up and then I'll bring you some cold water." Salvador Ojeda cut him off, as though he hadn't heard his plea. "You're such a good man, Rick. You deserve so much better than this shit life you're living. I'm gonna give you so much more than anyone else ever has. You'll see…I know you're gonna fight me. You were brainwashed for so long that you don't know any better. But it's okay…" He smiled at him, his dark eyes beaming in the poorly lit room. "I'm ready for it. I'm ready to do whatever it takes for you."