by Payne, T. L.
Hands grabbed him, lifted him into the air, and slammed him down onto a chair in front of her. A young, thin man held a hand full of ties out while another bound Scott's hand and feet to the chair. Fingers entwined in his hair and yanked his head back. Scott closed his eyes tight. He wouldn't look at her. He couldn't see her like that. She screamed again, and his head popped up against his will.
"JJ," Scott cried softly. He felt every cell in his body go limp.
Fingers gripped his shoulder and nails dug into his skin.
"You're going to tell me where it is, or…" The man stepped around the left side of Scott’s chair and slammed his fist against Scott's left temple. Scott's head whipped to the right so hard it hurt his neck. The man landed a second blow to Scott's chin, snapping his head back.
"No!" JJ screamed.
Scott tried to speak as he raised his head, but words wouldn't form in his mouth. He felt blood trickle down his chin. He sucked on his lip. He'd bit it. It was bleeding bad.
Anger mixed with tears caught in his throat as he stared at JJ. He wanted to look away. He wanted to pretend this wasn't happening. But he couldn't.
"It's all right," Scott said, wanting to comfort her. "It's going to be all right, JJ."
"It's going to all right just as soon as you tell me what you did with my money," the man said.
Scott shifted his gaze to the man, his eyes blazing with anger. The man was tall, average build, Caucasian, not Hispanic. Not cartel.
“David, just let him go. He knows nothing. He was just some guy…"
David? This man is her ex-husband? He had somehow followed her here. How?
David spun around and struck Scott across the cheek. Scott bit his tongue. His mouth filled with blood.
"Stop!" JJ screamed.
"I'll stop when you tell me where you hid my money."
"Okay. Okay. Just let Scott go and then I'll…"
"Scott? Just some guy, huh." David struck Scott again. Scott felt blood run into his left eye and down his cheek. He was dazed. Scott fought to stay awake.
"I said I'll tell you. Stop now! Stop, David, and I'll take you to it."
"Where is it? I am not going to ask you again. You tell me now or so help me, I'll gut him right in front of you."
Scott jerked his head up. In David's hand was a long, tactical knife. The knife's blade glistened in the bright lights. This was it. He was going to die. Right here. Right now. And there was nothing he could do about it.
JJ strained against the plastic ties restraining her wrists. Her chair banged against the hardwood floor. "You do that and you will never see a dime of that money again. Damn you! I said let him go. I’ll take you to the money. You don't need to do this,” she cried.
Tears mixed with blood streaming down JJ’s battered cheeks. Her face was twisted with anguish and fear. He hated that she felt that way because of him.
"Don't worry about me, JJ. It’s all right. Save yourself." He heard the words come from his mouth. He sounded so resigned to death. He sounded so weak and pathetic. He didn't deserve her concern. He hadn't fought for her. He hadn't saved her.
That only seemed to anger her more. She gritted her teeth and leaned forward. "Don't you fucking give up! Don't you do it! Think of Lily. Scott, think of your little girl.”
Her words were like daggers in his heart. The condemnation. The anger. The truth. They bounced around his soul, the guilt from them ripping at every fiber of his manhood. He stiffened, then straightened. He leaned forward. "If you don't, I won't either." A tear slid down his cheek. He wanted to reach out to her. To take her in his arms and hold her. Protect her from this nightmare.
God help me.
A man rushed through the door. "Someone's outside!”
David lowered the knife and followed the man out of the room. The door behind Scott slammed shut.
Scott strained and twisted to no avail. The ties were too strong.
"JJ. Are you all right?"
"I'm okay. I'm so sorry to have dragged you into this."
Scott leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow.
"Don't. It's not your fault. You don't deserve this any more than I do."
"I'm sorry. I am so sorry," JJ cried. Her eyes were swollen, her lip split and cheeks bruised.
Anger rose within him as she spoke—not at her but at the men that had done this to her. "Don't give up, JJ. We'll find a way out."
The door burst open, and two Hispanic men grabbed him, cut the ties binding him to the chair, and yanked him to his feet.
"JJ, don't give up. Just don’t!” Scott yelled as the men shoved him through the open door into the hall. Scott bumped into one of the men and slid his hand into the man’s pocket. As he was shoved forward, Scott pushed the small pocketknife up his sleeve. They dragged him two doors down and shoved him into an empty room.
Scott landed hard on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, his shoulder bearing the brunt of the impact. His entire body hurt. He was sure now that he'd broken ribs in the car accident. And now, he added a busted lip and split tongue and gash above his eye to his list of injuries. The image of JJ's battered face and hands flashed before him. He had to find a way to get her out of here. He was sure that once she gave up where the money was, they'd kill them both.
Scott let the small pocketknife he'd stolen from the man slide down his wrist into his right hand. He flicked it open and began sawing at the plastic ties binding his hands. It was much more difficult than he imagined it would be. The blade obviously had not been sharpened recently. Shouts came from down the hall and Scott froze, listening to the voices.
"Hurry. David wants everyone out front. Now!” a man said in a thick Hispanic accent.
This was his chance. He might never get a better one. He needed to get free and grab JJ before whatever had their attention was resolved.
The knife slipped and cut his wrist. He felt the warm, slick blood as he located the plastic ties and kept sawing. Finally, with a snap, his hands were free. He didn't waste time checking the wound. Scott grabbed the ties binding his ankles in his left hand and cut them, freeing his feet. He quickly got to his feet and ran to the door.
Scott pressed his ear to the door and listened. He could hear faint voices down the hall. Slowly turning the knob with his left hand, Scott raised the knife in front of him. He cracked open the door and peeked out. No one was in view. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped into the hall.
Just as he reached the room where JJ was being held, Scott heard heavy footfalls behind him approaching fast. He reached for the knob and hesitated. If they discovered him in there, he and JJ would never get away. Turning to his right, he rushed into a room across the hall and slowly closed the door. The footsteps grew closer. The door across the hall banged open.
"Where are you taking me?" JJ yelled.
The men said something in Spanish. Scott looked down at the knob and then to the knife in his hand. He had to stop them. He had to do something. He couldn't just let them take her away. He wrenched open the door and bounded into the empty hall.
He was too late.
He watched JJ and the men disappear around the corner. He ran to the end of the hallway and pressed his back against the wall. When he leaned to his right to peer around the corner, the men were pulling JJ through a doorway into the garage.
Scott heard an engine start and ran to see if JJ was inside. He hit the door and it flung open. Scott stepped into the garage as the SUV raced down the driveway. Scott cursed under his breath. He was too late. They'd taken JJ and there was nothing he could do to save her now.
As the sound of the vehicle's engine faded, Scott stared at the tire tracks in the snow. He looked around and listened. He heard only silence. Scott stood frozen, his palms pressed to his forehead. He lowered his head.
What am I going to do now?
He knew he had to go after her. He had to at least try. He fought back panic, contemplating the hopelessness of his situation. He'd lost th
e Suburban and his only real shot at reaching his daughter. JJ was in the hands of her crazy ex-husband and the cartel and they were headed who-knew-where.
Whoever had come to the house had obviously spooked the captors. Who could manage to do that, and where are they now?
David had taken JJ but hadn't stuck around long enough to find Scott. He was nothing to them. JJ had what they wanted. Or at least that was what her husband thought. Would they come back for him? Maybe. He didn't intend to be around to find out.
Scott's mind raced as he glanced back down at the tracks. He could follow them. They couldn't have gone far yet. Because if they had, JJ was screwed. Scott raised his right hand and stared at the small knife he held.
This wasn't going to be enough to free JJ.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out. He had to think, but his mind felt so muddled from the lack of sleep, food, water, with all the stress and his injuries. His energy level made him feel as slow as a turtle. He was no good to her like this. He needed help. He hoped that he could convince Raine and the others to get involved. He knew it was a long shot. At least he could maybe get a rifle and some ammo from them, though. Maybe find another vehicle to go after JJ.
At the end of the driveway, Scott tried to recall the route he'd taken to get there. He stepped into the middle of the road and followed the tire tracks back to the highway across from the wrecked Suburban. He slid down the hill and looked through the broken back glass for his or JJ's packs. They weren't there. He walked around the SUV, looking for any sign of them or their rifles but found nothing. David and his men must have taken those too.
Staring down at the Suburban, he resigned himself for the walk back to the Wards’ farm. Instead of holding his daughter today, he'd be mounting a rescue of his friend from her evil ex-husband and a dangerous drug cartel.
Hold on just a little longer, Lilybug. I'll find a way. I'll find a way to you, I promise.
Chapter 7
Possum Hollow Road
Farmington, Missouri
February 23rd, approximately 9:20 a.m.
The smell inside the home nearly knocked Brandon over. His hands came up to cover his nose and mouth.
“What is that?” he asked.
“I think it’s the refrigerator and freezer. We didn’t open them to check,” Aiden said.
Brandon and Gage followed Aiden into the family room, where JJ’s father was applying pressure to her brother’s chest.
“Is he okay?” Gage asked.
“He’s been shot. So, no. He’s not okay,” JJ’s father snapped.
“Did it go through?” Aiden asked as he grabbed a backpack from the sofa.
“Yeah. Hand me the combat gauze,” JJ’s father said.
Gage looked away as the older man packed the gauze into the wound. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“There’s no time for that. Grab that rifle and guard the back door,” Aiden said as he parted the curtains behind the sofa.
“Where do you want me?” Tom said.
Aiden looked around, then pointed over his shoulder. “Take that window. You watch for anyone approaching from the north.”
“You. What’s your name?” Aiden asked, nodding to Brandon.
“Brandon.”
“You go to the bedroom on the south side of the house. Let me know if you see anyone coming on that side.”
Brandon stared down at the man on the floor as he ran by. He looked very pale. Brandon wondered if he could possibly survive a wound like that without proper medical treatment.
The bedroom at the end of the hall was a child’s room. A twin bed was pushed up against one wall. A four-drawer dresser sat under the window on another. Brandon shoved the dresser aside and pulled up a set of mini blinds. He pressed his back against the wall and scanned the tree line. Where had the shooter gone? Were they waiting for them to come out again? Who were they?
“Brandon, see anyone?” Aiden called from the family room.
“No. It’s quiet over here,” Brandon called back.
“You in the kitchen. Do you see any movement back there?”
“No. Nothing back here,” Gage yelled.
“Brandon, come replace me here in the family room,” Aiden said.
As Brandon took a position by the window, Aiden pulled fresh rifle magazines from his pack and stuffed them inside the side pockets of his cargo pants.
“I’m going to go start the truck. Brandon, you and Tom cover my dad as he carries Nick to the pickup,” Aiden said.
“What am I doing?” Gage said as he entered the room.
“You can start by pointing that rifle at the floor,” Aiden said. “You’re with me. You can cover me as I get the truck started.”
“What?” Gage said, wide-eyed.
Aiden didn’t give him a chance to back out before shoving him toward the door. “Let’s go.”
JJ’s father stood and unlocked the front door. He pulled it open a crack and peered out.
“I’m going to need help lifting him.”
“I can walk, Dad,” Nick said, trying to sit up.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re going to feel faint,” his father said, sliding his right arm around Nick’s waist.
Tom rushed over, slung the rifle around to his back, and grabbed Nick’s right arm. The two of them carried Nick to the door. The three men waited for the sound of the engine starting. As they stood there, Nick slumped. His head lolled to the side.
“Damn it,” his father said. “He’s not going to make the trip home. I need to get fluids in him and get him warm.”
“You can take him back to our place,” Tom said.
Brandon shot him a dirty look. Yeah. They were JJ’s family, but for all they knew the shooter was after them, not him, Tom or Gage.
The engine started and JJ’s father nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.” Brandon went first. He stepped out on the porch and quickly moved down the steps. The men carried JJ’s brother down right behind him. Brandon didn’t see any movement in the woods beyond the front yard. He surveyed the part of a side yard that was visible from the steps. He saw nothing.
JJ’s father opened the truck’s door, and he and Tom shoved Nick inside. “Jump in the back,” he said as he slid in behind him.
Tom, Brandon, and Gage climbed into the pickup’s bed, and Aiden backed down the driveway. At the blacktop, Aiden stopped.
“See anyone?” he yelled from the open driver’s window.
Brandon raised himself to his knees and surveyed the road to his left and right. Two sets of footprints led down the road to the right of the drive. “Footprints. They headed south,” he called.
“Which way to your place?”
Brandon had to think. He hadn’t been there for more than twenty-four hours himself. He was unfamiliar with the road. But he and Gage had traveled south from the farm.
“Turn right. We need to go north,” Brandon finally said. The truck backed onto the road and headed that direction.
Lucy met them in the Wards’ driveway.
“Where in the world have you been? We thought something had happened…” Lucy stopped mid-sentence. “Who the hell are they?”
“They’re JJ’s family,” Tom said as he slid off the truck's tailgate.
Lucy shook her head. “Who?”
“They’re looking for JJ,” Gage said as he passed her, heading for the open door of the truck.
Lucy followed Gage. “What happened to him?”
“He’s been shot. I need to get him inside and get him warm. Now!” JJ’s father said.
Everyone stared at JJ’s family as her father held a cup of warm water to Nick’s lips.
“You’ve been looking for JJ all this time, Mr. Durham?” Lucy asked.
“Call me Jim. Yes. We would have been here sooner if the EMP hadn’t fried my Dodge.”
“We lost her signal up near Park Hills. It took a day to get our truck running to head up here to look for her. We found her Jeep crashed at the b
ottom of a ravine,” Aiden said.
“She left a note telling us her route. We must have missed her on the road somehow,” Jim said.
“How did you track her here?” Brandon asked.
“There was talk about some boys getting into a gunfight with a woman down this way. They claimed she killed some kid. They were quite riled up about it. The woman matched JJ’s description, so we headed this way,” Jim said.
“I told you that the neighbor was telling the truth and she’d headed to St. Louis,” Nick said, his voice soft and low. He was still quite weak and barely able to hold his head up to drink. Brandon wondered if he stood a chance with a bullet wound to the shoulder. He doubted that Nick would be able to use his left arm after that.
“I’m afraid we pissed off a few of the neighbors around here. I was sure that she was still in the area,” Jim said.
“Is that who shot Nick?” Brandon asked.
“Likely. They don’t like strangers around here. That guy that lives at the end of this road ordered us to get out of the county. He said that he’d make us if we didn’t. When I heard that JJ had been spotted in the area, I refused to back down,” Jim said, looking down at Nick. When he looked up, he had tears in his eyes.
“I hate to ask, but my boy can’t travel right now.”
“Absolutely. You all can stay here for as long as you need. If it weren’t for JJ and Scott, we wouldn’t have made it out of the city. We’d likely have died there.” Raine looked around the room. “Right, guys?”
