Chapter 18.
1645 Words
Chapter 18: Shifted from Safety to Shadows.
Devon Drawson.
Something was wrong. I knew it the second I stepped into the house. The air felt… heavy. Still. Unnaturally still. It was the kind of silence that screamed at you, the kind that presses on your ears until you start to wonder if you’ve gone deaf.
I closed the front door slowly, the soft click echoing like a gunshot in the hollow quiet. My eyes swept over the living room, and the world tilted. Everything was out of place. The couch had been overturned like someone had shoved it in a rage. One of Dream’s favorite mugs lay shattered across the floor, porcelain pieces glinting like broken hope. Our framed photos—especially the one of Doria hugging Dream on her last birthday—hung crooked, some glass cracked. A vase had toppled, spilling water across the rug that was already darkened with dirt and footprints that didn’t belong to us.
My stomach dropped.
“Dream?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Doria?”
Nothing.
The silence felt alive now, mocking me. I stumbled forward, kicking shards of the broken mug aside, and tore through the house like a madman. Bedroom doors flung open, closets checked, under the bed, behind the shower curtain—everywhere. Empty. Drawers yanked out, clothes scattered, personal things tossed. The smell of perfume clung faintly in the air, Dream’s scent—but twisted, tainted by the intrusion.
Panic gripped my chest like a vise, squeezing tighter and tighter until my breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. My brain froze. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.
My girls. Gone.
I staggered back into the living room, knees threatening to buckle. My hands shook so violently I could barely hold my phone, but I dialed the only person I knew could handle this.
Delly.
He picked up after two rings. “Bro, what—?”
“They’re gone, Delly!” I shouted, voice raw. “Dream and Doria. Someone took them. My house is a mess—it looks like a damn war zone!”
“WHAT?!” Delly’s voice cracked with disbelief. “I’m on my way. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything.”
The call ended, but the thirty minutes it would take for him to get here stretched in front of me like a lifetime.
Thirty minutes. Thirty years. Each second bled into the next. I paced. I stared at the overturned couch until it blurred. I picked up Doria’s small shoe from the hallway floor, pressing it to my chest like it was her heartbeat. My thoughts spiraled. What if they were hurt? What if someone had— No. I couldn’t let myself think it.
I tried to call Dream’s phone. Straight to voicemail. Doria’s kid tablet had been left on the couch, cracked. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I bit them back because crying meant wasting time.
Finally—finally—the front door burst open. Delly strode in like he owned the place, sunglasses still perched on his face, hair styled as if he had just walked off a runway instead of into my nightmare.
He wasn’t alone.
Behind him walked a tall man in a trench coat, his steps measured, his eyes scanning everything with the focus of a predator. His face was carved in stone, his gaze the kind that had seen too much and never flinched. This was the type of man who wouldn’t blink if a bomb went off beside him.
I narrowed my eyes. “Who is he?”
“This,” Delly said, clapping the man on the shoulder, “is Detective Zack. Private investigator. Very good. Very smart. Can dig out anything—even stuff you didn’t want found.”
“Good evening, sir,” the man greeted. His voice was deep. Calm. Too calm.
“Cut the pleasantries,” I barked, pacing. My whole body trembled with rage and terror. “My wife and our daughter are missing. They were here this morning! Now this place looks like a crime scene. I need them back. Now.”
Zack crouched, surveying the mess with unhurried precision. He touched nothing, only letting his eyes glide over the chaos like a scanner. “Has anyone contacted you? Ransom call? A threat? A note?”
I shook my head violently, fists clenched so hard my nails bit my palms. “Nothing. Just this… nightmare.”
He picked up a photo frame carefully by the edge, studying it with narrowed eyes. Then he looked at me. “Who might want to hurt her? Or you?”
Delly and I exchanged a glance. Only one name came to mind.
Ivay.
My ex. The one who couldn’t accept that I had moved on. That I was happy. The one who once hissed, If I can’t have you, no one will. The bitter irony? She had cheated on me first. The one who swore I would regret leaving her.
I shivered, bile rising.
“Ivay,” I said. “Her name is Ivay. She threatened Dream once—said she wasn’t fit to raise Doria. Called her ‘a fake mother.’”
Zack nodded once, pulling a notepad from his coat. “Give me her address, phone number, anything. And photos.”
Delly pulled up his phone with a smirk, showing an old video of Ivay throwing a drink at Dream at a gala.
“Wow,” Zack muttered, expression flat. “She has a flair for drama. And possibly homicide.”
I couldn’t sit still. I paced like a caged animal, my chest burning with helpless fury. “What if she’s hurt them? What if she—”
“Don’t go there,” Delly snapped, eyes fierce. “Dream’s strong. And Doria? That little angel has more sass than you, bro. She’s probably negotiating their escape with cookies.”
A strangled laugh tore out of me, broken by a sob. My emotions ricocheted wildly—one moment hope, the next despair.
“Find them, Zack,” I whispered, voice shaking. “Please. I’ll pay whatever it takes.”
Zack’s eyes locked on mine, solemn. “We’ll find them. But you need to prepare for anything.”
---
Hours crawled by. Zack made calls, pulled strings, traced Ivay’s last known movements with a network of contacts I didn’t want to know about. Each minute felt like it scraped pieces off my soul.
And then—his phone buzzed. He answered instantly.
“Yes?”
A pause. His eyes flicked to me.
“Are you sure?” he asked, tone clipped.
Another pause. A slow nod. Then he hung up.
“We found her car,” Zack said. “Abandoned in the warehouse district downtown. Surveillance shows two females being dragged inside. One adult. One child.”
My heart slammed. “That’s them. That has to be them!”
“We’re going now,” Zack confirmed.
Delly grabbed a baseball bat from the corner. “Just in case.”
“That’s not even legal,” I muttered.
“Neither is kidnapping!” he shot back.
We stormed out.
---
The warehouse loomed like a beast against the night sky, all jagged lines and broken windows. The air smelled of mildew, oil, and shadows. Zack signaled us to stay low, his movements precise, but I didn’t care.
Because I saw her.
Dream.
Tied to a chair, her face bruised, lip split, eyes burning with anger and fire. Still beautiful, even broken.
Beside her, Doria sat bound to a smaller chair. Her lip bled, but her glare was fierce enough to cut steel.
And pacing before them like a deranged queen in stilettos—Ivay.
“You think you won, huh?” she sneered at Dream. “Living in MY house. With MY man. Raising a child that isn’t even yours. You think you’re better than me?”
Dream lifted her chin, blood dripping down her mouth. “No, Ivay. I know I am.”
BAM.
Delly kicked the door open like we were in an action movie. I charged in, heart pounding like thunder.
Ivay shrieked.
Zack tackled her in one smooth, practiced motion, dragging her to the ground.
I fell to my knees beside Dream, cutting her ropes with shaking hands. She collapsed into me, clinging.
“You’re here,” she whispered, voice hoarse.
“Always.”
Doria threw herself into my arms next, sobbing. “Daddy, she tried to make me eat raisins! Raisins!”
I almost laughed and cried at once.
“Baby, you’re safe now. Both of you.”
Zack cuffed Ivay, ignoring her screeches as she spat curses.
Delly waved cheerfully. “Tell jail I said hi!”
---
Back at the hospital, the sterile lights nearly blinded me. Doctors checked Dream and Doria—bruises, cuts, trauma—but alive. Breathing. Safe.
I sat by Dream’s bed as she slept, her hand in mine, Doria curled in my lap, refusing to let go. I kissed Dream’s forehead gently. “You were so brave.”
She mumbled in her sleep, “Raisins are evil.”
I laughed through my tears, squeezing her hand.
Dream stirred, lashes fluttering open. “Is she gone?”
“For good.”
She exhaled shakily. “I thought we were done for. I tried to protect Doria.”
“You did. You always do. You saved her. And me.”
She looked at me then, really looked, her eyes glassy with tears. “I was scared I wouldn’t see you again. That I’d never say I love you one more time.”
“Say it now.”
“I love you.”
I pulled her into my arms, holding tight. “I love you too, Dream Davina Drawson. Forever.”
The shadows had come. But we’d shifted back into safety.
We were home.
- Writer
