Lost...

Chapter 7

Unbeknownst to Chloe, it is now going on four in the morning. The redhead lies curled as far into herself as possible in the middle of the filthy matress. And she should be crying, after all that's happened. After everything he'd done to her, made her do, after everything he'd said to Chloe and how he'd said the words. But she isn't crying. She lies staring at the matress with the blankest of expressions plastered on her face, because she hardly feels anything. "You're nothing." The harsh words are stuck replaying over and over on the malfunctioning turn-table inside Chloe's brain. The only thing she feels is empty. Except for maybe a tiny version of her favorite brunette, swiming around her brain begging for attention from the redhead's organ.

She wishes with an insane amount of intensity and longing that she could be in the arms of Beca right now, because that would fix her. It would ground her after all that's happened. Sure, she'd never forget, how could she? And there would definitely be lasting emotional scars that refuse to go unnoticed. But Beca has always been her safety, her home. And god, how she wishes she was home.

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Beca glances at the dash and when she sees that it is going on four in the morning, it makes her uneasy. It feels as if three days had passed since Chloe had been taken. The brunette can't help but think of all the things he could have possibly done to Chloe in this amount of time, what he may still be doing. About fifteen minutes into her drive, she thinks that calling the police station might be a good idea, so she dials the number as quick as possible.

"Hi, this is Beca Mitchell."

"Yes. Hello Ms. Mitchell. I actually have some good news for you. We've tracked Chloe's phone along with her kidnapper's. They are both at a warehouse in Torrence called Bender Group Incorporated. We just sent our squad out."

"I'm heading there now! Thank you so so much."

"Our pleasure."

Beca hangs up and speeds up slightly, eager to get to her girlfriend. She winds her way around a few cars before she's on open road and slams on the gas.

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Chloe has just barely drifted to sleep when she hears a loud 'bang' come from the level below her. She jumps, as the noise had startled her, and scurrys to sit in the corner she'd become somewhat acustomed to in the past few hours. She hears what sounds like more than one pair of feet coming up the stairs. Chloe sees and hears the doorknob being turned, and her stomach goes queezy.

'Oh god. He brought more people.'

And then suddenly the thought is gone, because when the door finally opens and the lights flick on, it is not more bald, muscular creeps she is met with. She's met with about six black uniforms and she realizes she is completely uncovered, so she hurrys to fix that as best she can. One of the men walks cautiously towards her and crouches on one knee beside the matress. She backs up slightly, until she notices 'officer' written on the left side of his shirt and looks up at the man expectantly.

"Hi. I'm officer Conwell. Can you tell me your name?"

"C-Chloe. I'm Chloe Beale." She sees him look over toward the door where the rest of the men are standing.

"Guys! We got her in here!"

She then hears some shouting going on downstairs. She thinks she hears something like "Get down on your knees", and realization finally kicks in. The redhead realizes she's been found. She can go home.
Home.

"M-my girlfriend Beca. Where is she is she here? Is she outside?" Chloe asks anxiously standing up as she's being handed her previous clothes. She uses the sweater to cover her top half and quickly puts on her jeans. She doesn't even take the time to put on her shoes when she hears the man say, "I'm not sure. There's a good chance she could be outside but-" and that's all it takes for her to sprint out the door and down the stairs.