Page 27 of Saving Tracey (Finding Hope #1)

Chapter Fourteen

N O.

I wouldn't let him hurt me like this again—I couldn’t. I was stronger this time. I was terrified out of my mind, but I would fight.

I didn't know how he had gotten out of jail. I didn't know how long he had been out, but what I did know was that I wouldn't let him take me down without a fight.

I scrambled up off the ground, and he grabbed the front of my shirt, yanking my face close to his. I gagged at the smell of his breath and the smell that emanated off of his skin. It was clear that he hadn’t been anywhere where he could properly take care of himself.

"You're going to pay, Tracey, and by the time I'm done with you, there won’t be breath left in your lungs,” he spat in my face.

I shook my head, my knee coming up and slamming into his balls. He groaned, falling to the ground, clutching his prized jewels. "Not this time."

I took off running for the other end of the alley. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I had to get away from here. There had to be some way to get back to Trevor's, or at least to Miss Brinson's.

I wouldn't let him hurt me again .

My converse slapped loudly against the pavement as I ran down the sidewalk for all I was worth. My chest was heaving, desperate for some air, but I didn't care. I had to get the fuck away from here.

I knew he was running after me, but I didn't care. I would run until I physically couldn't run anymore.

I collided with a tall body, and we fell to the ground with the force I had knocked into him with.

The guy groaned as I rolled over off of him, the wind momentarily knocked out of me.

He sat up, looking down at me. "Girl, you don't belong here.” He reached down to help me up.

“What in the hell are you doing on the south side? "

I ignored him and his hand as I scrambled off the ground. My body was aching and screaming in protest, but I couldn't stop.

I wouldn't let him hurt me again .

"Hey, hey,” the guy tried soothing me, reaching out and grabbing my arm when I turned to continue running. I flinched, yanking myself away from him, my chest heaving from panic and from the exertion of running. "Are you okay?"

No. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack.

I had to fucking run .

"Get the fuck over here, you stupid fucking bitch!" I heard my dad roar through heavy breaths.

“I—I have to go," I muttered, turning to run away again, but the stupid idiot grabbed my arm again.

"Is that man bothering you?" His dark eyes were intent on my own, anger beginning to swirl in their depths.

My eyes snapped over to my dad's figure pounding down the sidewalk, getting closer and closer to me. If this guy didn't let me go, I was going to lose.

I couldn't let him hurt me again .

"Let me go,” I snarled through clenched teeth.

The stranger shoved me behind his body right as my dad came to a stop in front of him, his breathing labored. "Boy, I would appreciate it if you would give my daughter to me—right now."

I whimpered, a tear leaking out of my eye. This was it .

He was going to hurt me again .

"Sir, I'd advise you to turn around and go the fuck home. I promise, if you bother this pretty young lady right here ever again, you'll wish you'd never had."

My dad met my eyes over the guy's shoulder. "This," he said, gesturing between me and him, "is not over."

I gulped, fear trickling down my spine. My dad stalked away, and only when the guy was sure he wouldn't be turning back around did he turn to face me.

"You alright?" The anger was now gone from his eyes, only holding concern.

I rubbed my head, suddenly feeling light-headed when it began pounding. "I don't feel so good," I muttered.

I collapsed against him as everything went dark.

TREVOR

I snatched my phone up from my nightstand when I saw Gabriel's number come across the screen. He never called me unless it was extremely important, and though I was still waiting on a call from Tracey, something in my gut told me to answer it.

I had met Gabriel back when I was twelve, a year before child services took me from my parents. He took me under his wing, teaching me how to defend myself.

I hadn't heard from him in a couple of years.

I debated answering it. I had called Miss Brinson, and she had told me that Tracey hadn't made it home yet. She wasn’t answering my phone calls, either.

I was just hoping she was walking really slow and that nothing had happened to her. I was trying to give her the space she was asking for, but fuck, it was hard.

"Hello?" I asked, answering anyway. If he was calling, I knew it was something serious.

However, I didn't realize just how fucking serious it was.

"Hey, kid, how are you doing?"

"Fine," I muttered. "I'm waiting on a phone call. What's up?" I asked, trying to cut the conversation short.

"I've got a girl here; she's passed out, but I recognized the hoodie she was wearing.

You used to wear the damn thing all the time when you were younger.

" My heart constricted, desperate for it to not be Tracey that was passed out.

She had been wearing my hoodie that she had found buried in the depths of my closet when she left.

"What does she look like?" I asked cautiously.

His next words described my baby girl—the love of my life. I cursed, snatching my bike keys up from my nightstand and shrugging my jacket on. "Do you still live in that same apartment?"

"Yeah. Come on over."

He hung up the phone, and I ran out of the door. Jesus Christ, how the fuck had she ended up all the way on the south side ? I thought she knew her fucking way home!

Fuck, anything could have happened to her !

After I kicked the stand down on my bike, I made a run for the stairs to the rundown apartment building. Once I reached Gabriel’s door, I banged on it, impatiently waiting on him to open it. It wasn’t long before I heard the lock unclicking, and he swung open the door.

Gabriel hadn't aged much in the past few years. He still had the normal scruff on his face, and his eyes still held a million secrets. His hands were still scarred, and that same leather jacket was still settled over his shoulders.

"She's on the couch."

I walked past him, stepping into the familiar apartment.

My eyes landed on her almost instantly. She was passed out on his couch, a small throw blanket draped over her.

"What the fuck happened to her?" I ran my hand through my hair, breathing a little bit easier since she didn’t have any bruising that I could see.

Gabriel shrugged at me, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Some burly asshole was chasing after her. The poor girl was running for her fucking life. The man called her his daughter or something like that."

"Fuck." I linked my hands above my head, leaning my head back to look at the ceiling. Gabriel watched me, his eyes not giving anything away.

Nobody had any idea the bastard was out of jail .

"I need a goddamn drink.” The urge to destroy something was almost overwhelming.

I looked down at Tracey when she groaned softly, slowly coming awake. I knelt beside her, ignoring Gabriel’s curious eyes on my back. As far as he knew, I was still that same heartless, asshole kid that he had taken under his wing all those years ago.

That kid he knew would never get close to anyone in a billion fucking years.

But she was different.

Her beautiful green eyes fluttered open, and she looked over at me, surprise lighting up her features, not having expected me to be in front of her. "Trevor, what . . ." Her voice trailed off when she took in her surroundings. "Where am I?"

"You're at my place," Gabriel spoke up. Her eyes snapped over to him, and I grabbed her hand gently in mine, automatically noticing the panic setting in her eyes. She hated being surprised. "Remember me?"

She nodded slowly, turning her attention back to me. "Are you okay?" I ran my fingertips over her cheek, so relieved that she was awake and okay.

She nodded in answer. "I just feel like I've been run over by a truck, and my head hurts,” she admitted, “but I'm okay."

She sat up completely, and I pulled her face to mine, kissing her tenderly. She responded instantly, her hands reaching up to wrap around my wrists loosely.

"You had me fucking terrified, Tracey," I admitted gruffly when I finally pulled back from her. "Where the hell is your phone? Why didn't you call me?"

She felt her pockets, her eyes widening in alarm. “I—I don't know." She looked at Gabriel, but he just held his hands up at her.

"Don't look at me. I tried finding your phone, but you didn't have it on you. I took a wild guess you had something to do with Trevor because you're wearing his old hoodie, so I called him."

Her head fell into her hands, and she sighed tiredly. "I lost all of my stuff when I fell in that alley he snatched me into."

I stood up, my jaw clenched. "I want to know how the fuck he got out of prison." I looked at Gabriel. He arched an eyebrow at me, already knowing what I was going to request, but waiting on me to say it out loud. "Can you do that for me?"

He shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, but first you have to tell me how long you've been pussy-whipped." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes at him, my eyes moving to watch Tracey as she stood from the couch, coming to stand beside me. I wrapped an arm around her, almost as if on instinct, pulling her against the front of my body.

"It's not pussy whipped, bruh.” I leaned down to kiss her temple. Her cheeks tinted pink at my affection. "It's a long story, but I'm head over heels for this girl right here.”

And I meant it. Tracey was everything to me, and her safety was my utmost priority. I hated that her father had almost gotten his hands on her; I hated that I may have never seen her beautiful green eyes or her timid smile ever again.

I should have forced her to let me give her a ride back home. I should have made sure she made it home safely, but I had wanted to give her the space she was craving.