One Chance: a Ted Sweeran fanfic

Ch 29

Ed's POV

"Lift your arms," one of the guards instructed me and I complied without resistance, making sure to click off the transmitter installed in my watch for the police to hear everything as they conducted a sweep. The sweep was clear, so they instructed me to continue on into their creepy little lair.

It had taken about five minutes to find out where they were after Abigail had called. The police force had contacted a special consultant who had been able to deduce where Taylor was-an abandoned wine grove about an hour outside of London-and how best to go about saving my wife. Unfortunately, he had to leave for a "special mission", but I felt better prepared to face whatever was ahead.

One thing that I was certain of was that I had left any feelings of self-preservation at the door. If I didn't make it, I wouldn't care. The only thing that I was here for was Taylor, to hell with my life.

"Right this way," a guard roughly shoved me in the direction of an adjacent room, and the only thing that kept me from knocking him down was that these sick people had my wife and child, and fighting with them wouldn't make matters any better.

In the room was a petite Chinese woman standing next to a small table with an array of food. She might have looked timid and helpless, but the challenging look she held in her eyes as if she was daring a person to pass that judgment on her told me otherwise.

"Ed, so good to see you! I trust my security team has treated you very well," she smirked, nodding to the meatheads standing behind me.

"Where is she?" I demanded, not wasting any time. In response she only slowly stabbed a toothpick through what looked to be an olive and ate it slowly, as if savoring everything about the moment.

I wasn't going to wait around for this woman to have a picnic while Taylor was suffering, so I marched over to the table and picked up the jar of olives and smashed it against the wall.

The shattering glass seemed to startle the two baboons and they jumped into action, pinning me against the wall in an instant. I tried resisting, but the two of them together were too much for me to break through.

The woman, remaining unnervingly calm, simply picked up an olive and scrutinized it in her gloved hand then looking back at me, coolly continued. "Mr. Sheeran, I do suggest that you restrain yourself from all of this nonsense, it's so unprofessional. After all, we wouldn't like to have your wife get seriously hurt, any more stress and she might just.." the woman then violently crushed the olive with her nimble fingers,"...Pop."

"Fine, fine, just tell your flying monkeys to get off of me," I grunted.

Surprisingly enough, she complied, then even more shockingly, she clicked a button on some ear piece and asked the person on the other end to bring Taylor up to the processing office, whatever the hell that was.

She seemed very pleased with herself as she confirmed to me that Taylor would be here very soon. "First we have some unfinished business to settle, you brought the money I assume?"

Money? Abigail had never said anything about money in her phone call. Panic was beginning to rise within me like the tide on a full moon, and I could feel my throat constricting. "Money? The police-I mean Abigail never said anything about a ransom."

"Ransom? This isn't ransom money, you pay for my services, or have you forgotten our deal?" She looked confused for a moment, then her eyes opened wide as if she had been enlightened by some huge secret.

"Oh, I see, you really weren't faking that coma...well, this makes things much more complicated."

"What? What do you mean? You kidnapped my wife! Why the hell would I ever make a deal with you? This is so fcking sick, now where is Taylor?" I was so confused and outraged and I just wanted to go home and be with my wife.

The sick bastard didn't even respond, I wanted to slap her...no, I wanted to kill her. I wanted to murder her so slowly that her screams would forever echo these haunted halls, and I think that's what scared me most of all.

"I said, where is my wife?" I screamed in exasperation, then without thinking lunged at her. Me of course being the hobbit I was ended up grasping air as she swiftly sidestepped out of my way. Her security guards took that opportunity to pounce, and they roughly bound my hands together with none other than duct tape. I wanted to make some smart remark but for once I held my tongue: I knew when I was beat.

"Now, Taylor is going to be here any second, are you going to be a good little boy and cooperate, or am I going to have to kill you in front of her?" She leaned in close to my face and whispered, "After all this trauma you have already caused her, how much more do you think her fragile heart could handle?"

Before I could say anything...or head-butt her in the nose, a piercing scream violently shattered the room, and chills erupted up and down my body. I was the first one to react as I bulldozed over the woman and ran to the source of the scream: my wife. Adrenaline pumping in my veins I was able to tear the duct tape apart as easily as a kid might break a crayon, and I could feel my heart threatening to explode if I didn't get to Taylor fast enough. My vision dimmed and all I could hear was my rapid heartbeats as I pounded down halls to the source of the sound.

I finally opened a door to a dimly lit room where Taylor was crouched down in pain, surrounded by a pool of thick liquid: blood. A security guard was looking down at her in surprised chagrin, and I asked what he had done to her.

"Nothing I swear, I was just getting her out of her chair and she started bleeding and-" I didn't let him finish. I grabbed his neck and twisted hard. He was dead in an instant.

I rushed to Taylor's side and tried to see the source of the blood. I couldn't locate the wound, so I picked her up and ran to where I believed the exit to be.

"Hold on Taylor, please hold on," I whispered as she moaned out in agony. "Backup! I need backup! My wife, she's hurt, send a helicopter! She needs medical attention now!" I screamed into my watch, praying to God that it wasn't too late.

Surprisingly no one tried to stop me as I fled the building, and within five minutes we were in a helicopter.

I looked down at Taylor as they laid her helpless form onto the stretcher, and for the first time since I could remember, I prayed to God that my wife would be okay.

"Just, please, don't take Taylor away from me," I pleaded not knowing exactly who I was pleading to. "She is a thousand times better a person than I will ever be, take me instead," I continued as hot insurgent tears escaped from my eyes. All I could see was Taylor's scared face, and I slightly gripped her cold hand in mine, trying to pass all of my strength into her.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to back up please," a man with some kind of injection asked.

"No," I pleaded, they couldn't take her away from me, "No, I need to stay with her." Couldn't they see? I couldn't live without her, I needed to know that she was going to make it, I would never leave her side, no one could make me.

Two pairs of hands gently but firmly grabbed me and pulled me away, and I lashed out. "No! Let me see my wife! Let me-." The last thing I saw as I faded out of this nightmare into a new one of my imagination was a note that had slipped out of my pocket with four words written hastily on it: this isn't over yet.