Chapter 21

"Bugger," Liam said through gritted teeth, now worked up. "Don't give up looking."

Two men tired from the search, Ethan and Liam, met in the middle of the high street.

"Any on your side?" Liam was asking for public information.

"Not a bloody thing," Ethan snapped.

"Something's not right here. Someone's got to know something. There's more to this," Liam stated emphatically. "We need to cast a wider net."

Ethan nodded, his eyes thinning with determination. "We'll sweep the grounds, the area around. She shouldn't have gone far."

Liam still looked at Ethan then. "Do you think… do you think this has something to do with what happened before?"

Ethan's jaw locked tight. "I don't know. But I'm not going to take any chances."

Again the two groups turned their backs one upon the other and pushed off, going their separate ways into the night's cold. Ethan turned upon his heel to face the black grounds of the estate. Shame was heavy: he promised safety, yet, in his care, Ayla was gone.

It filled his body with the weight of ponderous responsibility; it flattens, as the weight on a sledgehammer's head. He had let himself be sidetracked, and it had put Ayla in danger. His fists would clench in resolution when he trudged forward to make provisions for his oversight.

Quiet hours slipped by almost without words, into infinity. The entire estate had been raked, inch by inch; however there was nothing, no evidence, no trail to follow. Ethan met Liam at the gates; both were, obviously, worn out from the search, both very obviously marked by worry.

"We're missing something," he spoke low. "There's no way they could've taken her without leaving some trace."

"Perhaps they-"

"Could have been inside help," Liam finished, his brain already running with it. "Someone who knew the estate well enough to be able to cover their tracks."

The darkening of Ethan's pupils at the thought made them even darker. "Then we need to know who and learn of it. And fast."

Liam nodded, thoughts racing at what Ethan just proposed. "We need to make an attempt to speak with the staff; maybe some of them saw something off."

Ethan nodded back. "Yeah, but we can't do this with lost time, Liam. The more we sit here, the further her distance becomes."

"I know," said Liam, which held in its texture much of determination. "We'll find her, Ethan. We have to."

Ethan shifted his gaze to Liam, now by determination sharing, their fate sealed together by this terrible moment. "Then let's keep moving."

They separated again, one urging his team on in the hope of more successful discovery. Time was wasting. Every second now that rolled on with Ayla out there meant a loss of life. Neither Ethan nor Liam would feel easy until she was found, no matter the cost.

"Let her go!" Liam shouted again. It was a command, sharp as a knife cut through butter, as Liam stepped out from behind the trees, his eyes never straying from the group of men that stood fatally close to where Ayla lay utterly still on the ground.

One of them; their leader, apparently, turned around, a smirk on his face. "Or what? You really think you can take us all on yourself?"

Liam looked down at him. "I don't think. I know. Now step away from her."

The man guffawed loudly—a cold, humorless sound that seemed to reverberate in the night. "You've got guts. I'll give you that. Guts aren't going to save you now.

"Arrogance won't either," Liam shot back. He flicked his eyes to Ayla, whose body lay limp to the ground, helpless. Every second counted; he had to get her away from there.

With a dismissive flick of his wrist to his men, the leader ordered, "Take him down."

Two of them jumped forward at Liam, whose strides were so long and casual in his confidence. One barged forward by throwing his heavy fist at Liam's head, where he quickly ducked and hit the man precisely on his ribs. With a mild groan from the man, hunching his back at the piercing feeling, Liam followed it up with a sharp knee to the face as he went to the ground sprawling.

The speed of his answer was so quick that it took the second man by surprise. And it was long enough. Before he even realized it, there was a vice-like grip on his arm, his hand wrenched painfully up behind his back, and Liam's fist came down on the back of his neck with bone-crunching force, and he was out cold.

"This's your final warning." He growled—voice lowered to a very dangerous murmur while his narrowed gaze remained fixed on the leader, "Walk away now, and you might live to regret this."

His sneer wavered a beat, then the leader was cool once more. "Big mistake," he muttered, flipping out a knife from way up its sheath in his belt and advancing on Liam with the confidence of one who'd done this one too many times before.

The leader lunged forward with his blade gleaming under the moonlight. But before he could strike him, Liam grasped his hand and twisted his wrist brutally. The knife fell away, and Liam hit the man in the jaw, sending him reeling backward.

Liam wasted no time; the knife was ejected with an instant kick. A second later, he bore down on the wide-eyed gape of a man in shock, who had been holding his jaw previously.

"Stay down," Liam ordered.

But the man wasn't finished; he charged at Liam again, but the lad sidestepped him once more. He caught the man in the side with another fierce body shot. The more heinous man crumpled to the ground on the side, letting out a gasp.

Liam stood over him with upreared fists, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. "I said, stay down.

He rumbled on, yet took no step forward, until at length it appeared as if he had decided himself a weakling.

Liam was convinced that the danger was over and that the threat had been taken care of. Only now did he revert his complete attention back to Ayla. He went over to her immediately, his heart thumping in his chest with his panic for her. "'Ayla, it's Liam. Can you hear me?" he said, trying to sound light even with his blood that seemed to rush like a river to his brain.

She didn't respond; her skin was cold, her breath shallow and rasping. In a flash, there was rekindling panic flashing through Liam. He had to get the hell out of this place, and quick.

"Ayla, I'm going to carry you," he murmured, gently bringing her up into his arms. So light, so fragile in his hold. "You did good. You're safe now. I've got you.".

He came away from the edge, taking one sharp step at a time; those piercing eyes constantly flicked left and right, looking out for any minute hint of further ambushes. He could never truly let his guard fall.

"Don't you worry, Ayla," Liam sighed, carrying her through the trees. "I'll have you out of this place; nothing will happen to you.".