Only You (Stevens Book 12)

Chapter 22

Sam clenched the phone in his hand as he watched Mave walk across the terrace, her family all but holding her up. When she started up the steps to the museum by herself, it took all that he had to keep his feet planted while he listened to Thomas drone on about a date he had been on the previous week.

It was obvious that she had been drugged, and he and Mave hadn't been told much about the plan, but surely, they would have been told if she was going to be drugged.

Sam drained his glass, which was only water, before passing it back to Lincoln with a hate-filled look. Sam knew it had to happen, that Mave had to be alone and taken, but he hadn't anticipated her being drugged and defenseless.

Sam responded to some joke that Thomas made with a half-hearted smile as Roark joined them, giving his drink order to Lincoln. He didn't want to let anyone know that she was in trouble or that he knew she was in trouble because he didn't know who was watching.

So Sam played the dutiful host and introduced his two friends. "Roark, this is my old friend, Thomas; Thomas, this is Roark Merrick." Roark nodded to Thomas, but neither one extended their hand in greeting.

"What do you do, Roark?" Thomas asked with a friendly smile in an attempt to make conversation.

"Trauma surgeon, and you?" Roark sipped his drink, looking at Thomas over the top of her glass. Sam paused as he looked between the two. Roark was not impressed by Thomas and wasn't being subtle about his feelings toward him.

"Sales and distribution," Thomas said vaguely as he looked at his phone, perhaps because Roark's stare was making him uncomfortable, and that's why he turned his attention suddenly to his phone.

"What do you sell and distribute?" Roark was staring Thomas down as he waited for an answer.

"Nothing very exciting." Thomas laughed. "Would you excuse me? I have a message that I need to respond to."

Roark nodded and watched him walk out the side gate.

"I don't like him," Rorak said, placing his empty glass on the bar. "Perhaps you should have something stronger than water?" He followed Sam's gaze to the where it was glued to the museum doors.

"No, I need to keep a level head in case Mave needs me." Sam turned to look at Lincoln, who was staring at the museum doors, just as Sam had been. It was obvious that he was worried, too.

"Why wouldn't you let me follow her? She's been drugged, and now she's in there all alone!" Sam's face was turning red in anger. Roark looked between the two but didn't say a word.

Lincoln stayed calm in the face of Sam's anger. "She's not alone. It may feel like she is all alone, but she is surrounded by the good guys in there. Trust me; I would rather be in there than out here, just as you would, but we have to play our parts. "What's taking so long!" Sam said after a few minutes of heavy silence while they waited for something to happen. The party's atmosphere had changed and grown heavy as all the Stevens banded together in little groups while they waited. After a few more minutes, people started to leave due to the sudden negative vibe.

"They have to be sure. They have to get a confession. They think there are two working together, and they want both if they can get them. We're so close and can't rush it, no matter how much we want to swoop in and save Mave." Lincoln shook his head with a worried frown.

*******

Inside the museum, Mave was being pushed through darkened exhibit rooms. The museum was dedicated to the history of shipping in Savannah, and there were many cases full of ship models that cast plenty of shadows for someone to hide between them. She looked desperately for someone to help her, but there was no one around.

Not that she could have called out since she was still paralyzed.

The house that held the museum was old, and the rooms were large, with tall ceilings and large windows to which all the shutters were closed. There was no outside light. Only the emergency lighting lit the way, but Angel appeared to know it well enough.

Mave managed to make a moan of some sort because Angel soothed her. "There, there, lovely Mave. It's almost over."

Past the main exhibit room was the house's grand foyer with a staircase, and off to one side of that was an elevator. That was where Angel was taking her. She pushed the button, and they waited as Angel sang the song's next verse, which echoed eerily in the dark and quiet museum.

Some of them want to use you

Some of them want to get used by you

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them want to be abused

The elevator dinged, and Angel wheeled her into the elevator. "We're not going up. We're going down," she whispered with a giggle before she launched back into the song.

Hold your head up, keep your head up, movin on

Hold your head up, movin on, keep your head up movin on

Hold your head up, movin on, keep your head up movin on

Hold your head up, movin on, keep your head up movin on

"Would you stop singing that ridiculous song! I'm sick of it!" Sam's friend Thomas hissed as the door to the elevator opened. Mave's eyes would have grown wide in show at the sight of him if they could have.

Angel looked hurt. "It sets the right tone!" she insisted, pushing Mave out the door with a huff. "Besides, it's proven to be handy with freaking her out a few times.

"Look, Mave!" Angel's tone was suddenly upbeat again. "Our ride is here. Do you know my brother Thomas?"

Mave's mind spun. "If Thomas was Angel's brother, that must make her the sister she hadn't met, Tally."

That also meant that there were two of them, so even if she could move, she wouldn't stand a chance.

*******

"You can go after her now," Lincoln told Sam.

"What?" Sam turned to look at Lincoln, shocked at his total about-face.

"She needs you, and now you must go, help her finish it. She can't talk or move, so she needs you to get the confession. Believe it or not, drugging wasn't part of the plan."

"How do you know it's safe for me to go and that I won't get her hurt?" Sam didn't understand why he had changed his mind.

Lincoln turned his head and grabbed his earlobe, which revealed a small flesh-colored earpiece. He was in direct communication with those inside. This made Sam feel instantly better because it meant his eyes were on Mave.

"Do I get a gun?" Sam asked, looking at his empty hands.

"No need. There are plenty in there already. What you need to focus on is getting a confession from both of them. Remember that. They're downstairs. Use the stairs and go quietly. Surprise is your only advantage." Lincoln nodded and looked at the backdoor of the museum.

"So, there are two of them?" Sam's eyes widened as he confirmed it, reflecting on Mave's dream. She must have known subconsciously that there were two.

"Yes, your friend Thomas and his sister Tally. They're trying to take her out of the old servants' exit on the bottom floor on the street side of the building, but you need to go now; your window is closing," Lincoln insisted.

Sam didn't need any more urging as he took off across the crowded terrace and up the museum steps, praying he wasn't too late as he pushed aside the thought that his childhood friend had been the one to hurt Mave.