This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,54
out what you can about your parents and Gabe. Do whatever makes you happy. But please don’t create a trail that leads back to us. That means no posts on Facebook or anything of the sort. Please.
War
PS—the code to the alarm is 1200, the same number of times you blink per hour.
My heart thunders to life. The code, although weird, is no longer a secret. Internet access is no longer restricted. Finally, I can start to make a plan.
War,
Thank you.
Peace
Flipping over to the Internet, I immediately type in: Missing Person, Baylee Winston. Another chime on my computer alerts me to an e-mail. Toggling back over to my inbox, I pray it’s my parents. Unfortunately, it’s only another e-mail from War.
Peace,
There’s something you should know.
Nobody’s looking for you.
I didn’t know how to tell you sooner and don’t know what to make of it.
I’m so sorry, Bay.
War
I shake my head in argument and flip back to my Internet browser. Several long minutes of researching prove he was right. There isn’t one single article of me missing. This makes no sense. I’ve been gone for over three weeks. Only in the past week have my parents been notified that it wasn’t against my will, even though it actually was. So why is nobody looking for me?
Looking over my shoulder, I make sure he isn’t coming and attempt to sign into Facebook. Over and over again, I try my password and it’s wrong. It was Winston20. Both of my parents and Brandon knew the password. Did one of them change it?
Quickly, I whip up a fake account under the name Winnie Stone. Mom and Brandon have their pages locked down from people who aren’t their friends, mine doesn’t seem to exist, and Dad’s is open.
Recent pictures.
Of stupid car parts.
I don’t understand.
With hot, angry tears in my eyes, I fire off another message to War.
War,
Why aren’t they looking for me?
Peace
I want to scream at him to get his coward self in here and stop hiding away from me so we can discuss this but I’m too overwhelmed. Fear roils my belly and bile creeps up my throat. Something is wrong.
I exist, dammit!
So why in the hell does it seem like I disappeared from the face of the earth and nobody even noticed.
Peace,
I don’t know why. But I’ll figure it out. I promise.
War
I’m tired of his broken promises. And I’ve certainly never been great at patience. It’s time to find out what’s going on. Even if that means breaking my promise to War.
Tonight, I’m leaving.
SHE DIDN’T RESPOND back to my e-mail. Why the hell would she? I mean, I’ve acted like a complete ass toward her. Not given in to her innocent advances. Withheld useful information from her. Lied to her. She probably hates me.
As she should.
I paid for her.
Fucking paid money for her.
I’m no better than Gabe.
My logical side attempts to reason with me. Let her go. Drive her back to Oakland and deliver her to her parents. Stop obsessing over her. Move the fuck on.
Yet, the irrational part of me fights. But I don’t want to let her go. If I take her back, Gabe will hurt her. Again. If I don’t take care of her, who else will? Her parents certainly don’t give a damn. What parent doesn’t report when their child goes missing? Something doesn’t add up.
Ignoring both sides of the argument for now, I check my email for the twenty-eighth time since my last message. Nothing. Stretching out on my bed, I pour through documents filed at the court house in her county, her parent’s bank records I hacked into, police reports, news articles, and anything tied to the Winston name.
Not one single shred of evidence that indicates she’s missing.
With reluctance, I type in the Oakland police department in my browser and peruse through the names of the detectives. Since Baylee was involved in a sex ring, maybe she does have a case but it’s under wraps. It would make sense especially if the Feds were involved.
There are several names of detectives that handle missing persons. Rita Stark is one of them. Her name makes me think of my clean house and stark white walls. Her name calls to me. I quickly copy her email address and open one of my many encrypted e-mail accounts. Maybe she can shed some light on Baylee’s situation.
Detective Stark,
I apologize in advance for coming to you under such anonymous conditions but I have my reasons.
Would there be any circumstances why a missing person would not