Hollows In Time (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book Ⅱ

Chapter Fifty-Two

^ Sky being perfect ^

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Everything stilled. I don't think anyone even breathed.

Jameson's eyes were transfixed on the picture of the man who had attacked us both. But my sentence had only been five months, Jameson had four years experience with this viper. So I turned around, took control of the mouse and exited off the page.

Jameson's eyes seemed to get lost, as if he didn't know what to look at. Suddenly, his eyes became vacant, and I felt a role reversal between us, in which I would tend to his malicious memories, just as he had done to calm me down.

I squeezed his hand. "He isn't here right now, Jameson. It's okay." I told him softly. Jameson didn't respond.

"There's got to be a reason why the same person who abducted Jameson eleven years ago did the same thing to Sky all these years later." Harry spoke up, and I turned to face him, seeing him scratch his mop of blond hair. It reminded me sweetly of Carter. But I quickly blocked out that thought.

"Are there any links?" I asked Harry, who, unlike Jameson, who stood frozen in his spot, was being attentive.

"Are the times the same? The people who helped him? The place maybe?" Harry stared at me as I spurted out questions.

"Well, where was Jameson abducted to?" I asked Harry, even though I was sure that a part of me knew.

"Yorkshire." Harry responded, moving away from his desk to walk over to another filing cabinet. He tapped the top of it. I frowned.

"We have all our research on that particular group in here; Jameson's abduction is in this room somewhere." Harry told me. I nodded.

"Add my abduction to it." I instructed him.

Harry frowned. "But we don't even know if they connect." He objected. I was about to respond when someone else spoke up.

"They do." Harry and I both turned around to face Jameson. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, but instead of his eyes looking vacant, they looked as if they were planning a million vengeance plans at once.

I frowned. "What?" I asked him, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles as if to prompt him.

"There's a link between my abduction and your abduction." He told us. I was about to ask him to elaborate when his jaw clenched, his fist—that wasn't entwined with my hand—clenched.

"I'm going to kill him." He seethed.

"Who?" I asked him. "Kill who?"

Jameson smashed the table with his fist and I jumped backwards. "That criminal." He spat, seeming to be gesturing to the computer, but the man's details were no longer on the screen.

"Why?" I asked. Jameson's eyes flickered over to mine and my lips parted in shock. Because his eyes were full of pure fury.

"Because of what he did to you." He told me. I watched him carefully.

"But how do our abductions connect because of him?" I asked Jameson. His battle face seemed to fall. He retreated from the computer, his anger fizzling out slowly. He held his head down low.

I squeezed his hand to offer him comfort.

"He abducted you because of me." He told me. I froze. I didn't know what that meant. God, what does that mean?