Chapter 32

The large sea of faces danced before Colt’s eyes as he took the microphone off the stand. He was doing something new tonight. He’d purposely left the guitar backstage and asked for a handheld mic instead of the usual headset. At the last minute, he’d requested the song changes. The boys were up for it, wanting to do something different. Reid wasn’t entirely keen on the idea, but the promoter said yes, and Colt took full advantage. Tonight was for Chelsea.

The venue was located on the beach in the Tampa Bay area. The night was cool with the sky sprinkled with twinkling stars. There was no threat of rain, but Colt’s heart was not as serene as the weather. There was a storm in his heart, raging into a full-blown hurricane at the thought that Chelsea was not there, and it may very well be his fault. He’d been trapped all his life, and now that he was free, that freedom came with a very big price.

As he stared into the crowd while the keyboard started playing slowly, Chelsea’s face loomed before him. The police were out looking for her. It had been more than 24 hours since she’d gone missing, and they were now certain she had been taken since the photo showed she was gagged and bound. The only problem was, they weren’t sure whether she was dead or alive, though his heart was telling him she was not dead.

“I wrote this one a few weeks ago when something strange started happening to me,” his voice was thick as he addressed the crowd.

The crowd went silent as they listened to him. This had never happened before. He’d never explained what motivated a song or even spoke to the crowd except a few times to say thanks to his fans. His heart raced, and his stomach felt a little warm from the emotions settling there.

“I started caring about what others … no … what someone thought about me,” he said with a chuckle.

He walked to the front of the stage and looked down. The cool summer breeze rushed refreshingly off the sea and rustled his hair. He cast his eyes to the night sky with a small prayer, bringing the mic close to his lips before closing his eyes. The instruments played in harmony behind him on the stage, but he slipped into a different world as he started a slow ballad. His voice was rich but smooth. The lyrics rolled off his tongue like molten chocolate, smooth and sweet.

After the last note played, he stood with his eyes closed, his heart humming to the beat of his own music. For a moment, no sound could be heard but his own heartbeat. Then the crowd erupted into a tumultuous cheer that shook the stage. There were whistles and shouts such as he’d never heard before.

“That was epic man!” Tony’s voice was swathed in awe a few feet behind him.

The energy from the crowd was a welcome boost to his state of mind. He motioned to the band to start the next song, another new song, “She’s Fire”. By the end of the concert, in which Tony debuted a new song as well, the crowd was going wild, begging for anchor after anchor. The members of the band were also feeling the love as Colt high fived each of them and showed them another side to him.

“Hey man, you were awesome,” Mike said after a high five from Colt.

“Thanks, man. Without you guys, this would not be possible,” he replied.

All four other band members looked at each other with mouths open. Colt noticed the shocked looks on their faces and chortled. He knew he’d been a jackass most of the time, and this was unlike him.

“We got to find Chelsea right away man,” Mike said. “It’s even more critical we find her now.”

“Why so?” Cory asked.

“To thank her of course!” Mike laughed. “She’s obviously the reason for this phenomenal change.”

Colt’s expression changed at the mention of her name. He knew they were only trying to cheer him up, but a pain stabbed him in the chest just thinking of her lying in a ditch somewhere. Since the photo appeared the day before, no one had contacted them. He was expecting a ransom call, any call, but nothing happened. They’d handed over everything to the police and were waiting for answers, but he was quickly going crazy not knowing where she was.

“Hey man,” Tony said. “She’s going to be fine. We’ll find her soon.”

Reid joined them while the press waited impatiently at the back of the stage where Reid designated for the post-concert interviews.

“Are you up to talking to those guys? I think they got wind that something’s amiss,” Reid informed them.

“What did you say to them?” Colt questioned.

Reid patted him on the shoulder. “I haven’t spoken with them yet. I thought maybe you wanted to make a statement. The crowd really responded to you; maybe you should just continue in the same vein.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he replied with a slight nod of his head.

He didn’t want Reid making some politically correct statement or anything. He needed the press to know that Chelsea was missing and perhaps assist in finding her if they could. Something was making a weird noise, and they all looked around to see what it was. Reid patted his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. There was still a lot of noise from the crowd that was now in full party mode.

“Hello!” Reid shouted into the phone. “Wait, let me turn on my Bluetooth; I can’t hear you,” he shouted while pulling the mini ear device from his pocket. “I hate these fucking things in my ears,” he mumbled. He fitted the ergonomic curvature around the ear, which allowed the plug to fit snuggly inside the canal. Of course, this was the latest and one of the best ones on the market, but Reid hated it.

“Yes,” he said after tapping it lightly. “Are you certain of this? Yes, we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“What’s the matter?” Colt asked with concern etched in his features.

Reid was looking at him with an expression that told him it was bad news. His stomach clenched tightly, and his neck muscled stiffened in anticipation that something had happened to Chelsea. The man grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side, his steely eyes gleaming.

“I’ve got some bad news, brace yourself,” Reid said.

“Just tell me, damn it,” he replied, his voice rising above the din.

Reid shuffled. “It’s—,” he hesitated.

“Chelsea? They found her?” Colt’s heart flipped over several times while nausea rose to his throat.

“No, it’s your mother. She died a few minutes ago,” Reid relayed in a sad tone.

The words spewed from Reid’s lips, but Colt was certain he heard wrong. He knitted his brows and narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What did you say?” He staggered back a few steps.

“Sorry Colt,” Reid’s voice registered his sympathy. “Let’s go to the hospital. They need you to sign some papers.”

He followed Reid off the stage and past the journalists backstage waiting for a comment on the concert. Reid paused to make a small statement, but Colt felt his chest tighten and his head lighten. He passed the crowd and reached the tour bus just as dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes, steadying himself before entering the bus. Shortly after, the rest of the band came in and took their seats. They were all in somber moods as Reid also entered and told the driver the hospital they were heading.

Chelsea was missing, and now his mother was dead. He needed Chelsea there. She would tell him how to deal with this. The last time he mourned for someone, he was just a kid when his father died. He knew he missed him, but he couldn’t remember the pain. This was more than he’d ever felt. The pain of not being with his mother all these years, coupled with the fact she spent her life in prison to save him was excruciating. Added to that was her death.

He did not get a chance to say he was sorry. Now that he was free, she was gone. She should have been around to know the truth. Whoever hid that truth was responsible for this. This was murder, plain and simple. His mother should have been free. There was no need for her to be in prison. But who was he kidding? All this was entirely his fault anyway, for allowing her to take the blame for something he did. He should never have listened to her or promised her anything.

Colt hated hospitals. There was never a good occasion for anyone to visit. No one he’d ever cared about ever left there alive. He hated the smell and the sounds of the low drone of voices to be suddenly interrupted by the voice over the intercom. He particularly hated the drab walls and the forlorn look of the rooms.

“Colt,” Reid walked up beside him as they headed to the administrator’s office. “I can deal with this if you’d rather not.”

He stopped and turned to the manager. “That bad, huh?” He patted Reid on the shoulder. “Always leaving the hard stuff for you to deal with?”

“It’s my job to deal with the hard stuff.”

“I’ll take care of this one. You just relax a bit.”

* * *

The cold seeped bitingly into her flesh from what seemed like a hard concrete floor. Her blindfold was too tight and threatened to cut through her skin. All her bonds were tight, including the gag, along with the rope that bound her hands and feet. Chelsea writhed, trying to break free, but in vain. There was no use trying to wriggle from the rope. The one who had brought her there made sure she was unable to free herself in his absence.

The memory of his stale sweaty scent lingered in her lungs. That was all she had to go on, his scent, his rough hands, and his breathing. A shiver ran over her as she remembered his hands as they grabbed her, pulling her against his hard body. She was about to scream when his large hand clamped her mouth, cutting off any sound.

“Keep still!” The voice said.

In her terror, as she was dragged to an awaiting car near the venue, she recognized that the voice was not real. He was speaking through a voice changer. She knew this because the voice she was hearing was Darth Vader’s voice. She’d watched Star Wars often enough, and of course, these devices were easily attainable in any electronic store.

“Hmmm,” she moaned as she tried to twist from his grasp.

His hand had also covered her nose, and she was finding it hard to breathe. Then as she struggled for air, he brought up his left hand to replace his right. This time, there was a white cloth and weird smell. There was nothing she could do but inhale, deeply. Everything started getting hazy before she succumbed to drowsiness.

She came awake and was unable to open her eyes. Without a clue where she was, or how long she’d been there, confusion settled in. In addition to the cold floor, there was musty odor penetrating her nostrils. Chelsea strained her ears to try picking up any sound that could help her determine where she was. There was nothing.

Soon, her writhing and wriggling began to wear her out. She found herself falling asleep after a few minutes, though she tried to stay awake. She needed to stay awake so she could make a plan … any plan to set herself free. She needed to see Colt. He must be worried sick about her. They were going out of their minds … she knew. Did Reid contact her parents? She hoped not. This would make them demand she return home immediately. Colt’s face kept popping up before her. His smile, his eyes, and his sultry stare made her heart race. She fell asleep with Colt’s face behind her lids.