by Wendy Cole
I kept a steady pace beside Fred and stared at the back of Drake’s head. The sun filtered through the leaves and painted the atmosphere in the same beauty I’d discovered with Bard the first time he’d brought me to this place, but it didn’t give me the same feeling. I realized why. It hadn’t been the nature I’d fallen in love with. It hadn’t been the wildlife or the mountain. It’d been him.
A bead of sweat trickled down into my eye, and I lifted my shirt sleeve to wipe it away.
A snap echoed the air, and Drake let out a half-shout, half-roar.
I jerked my eyes back up and found him hung upside down, swinging wildly back and forth by his ankle. His head smacked against the trunk, and he grunted. It cut a gash across his forehead, and blood trickled towards his hairline and spread out like tree limbs across his brow.
His chest rose and fell heavily as he lifted himself up and tried to reach where the rope held him.
Everyone else stood frozen.
“What the hell are you waiting for?! Cut me down!”
Two of the men scrambled into action and rushed forward. Blondie wrapped his arms beneath Drake’s back and shoulders, while the other pulled out a knife and cut the rope. The minute Drake was lowered to the ground, his hate-filled eyes latched on to me.
I knew the look, and in a last attempt to save myself, I took off running. I’d barely made it three steps, however, before one of the men grabbed me. I swiveled a kick across his ankle, but my position was too awkward. His leg only buckled an inch. His hold didn’t loosen, and before I could strike again, Blondie took my other arm.
They dragged me backwards, and I stared at the empty forest ahead of me. I could have made it. I could have gotten into the trees and disappeared. I could have been real quiet like Bard was. I could have waited for night and left them behind.
I could have.
But I failed.
“Put her against the tree,” Drake ordered.
“No!” I swung my legs up, kicked the air and jerked my arms. My chest tightened.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again!
No one batted an eye at my plea. The men all wore excited smiles. Fred was the only one who seemed bothered, but with nothing he could do, he turned his back on the scene.
They spun me around, and Drake’s eyes met mine. “I see you haven’t forgotten me after all.” He grabbed the rope. “Tie her.”
Blondie jerked my hands up while the other bound them to the same tree he’d hung from. The rope bit into my wrists and turned my hands an angry shade of red.
“Everyone leave.”
I whimpered as the footsteps retreated. It was happening again, and I was just as defenseless as I’d ever been.
Drake fingered the hem of my shirt, ran the back of his finger across my skin, then gripped and jerked it over my head. The rope kept him from removing it, so he pulled it down to cut across my throat.
“Your back’s all healed.” His palm ran across my scars.
I gagged.
The urge to beg had never been greater, but I bit my tongue. Drake liked the begging. He enjoyed it.
I locked my jaw, bit down hard, and vowed that no matter what he did, I would not cry out. He wouldn’t get that from me. He could destroy my body, but not my spirit.
My soul was safe.
I’d given it to Bard.
I closed my eyes and pictured his face. I visualized those piercing eyes, that hair, the way his beard hung in just a certain way.
Drake stepped around and pulled at the front of my shirt. I cut my eyes open and looked at him.
He took the material in his hand and knelt to wipe at the blood on his forehead. “You knew that was there,” he said.
I stared at him, silent. He didn’t need to know it could have just as easily been me the trap got. It’d been a small blessing from karma that it hadn’t.
“Are you going to apologize?”
“I’m sorry you didn’t watch where you were going.”
His jaw twitched, and my heart thundered as he stepped out of view.
My muscles tensed. Drake took his time, let me wait, and with each second, the anticipation grew. It was what he did. It was all part of the game. He gave the fear time to cook, breathed it in like his favorite drug.
Then, he delivered.
A tree limb hit hard and cut into the already mangled skin across my back.
Fuck. It hurt. The pain was so much more than I remembered. I’d gotten soft, gone too long without it. My tolerance wasn’t what it’d been, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to bite back the cry that so desperately fought to break free.
I clenched my eyes back shut and conjured that image into my mind. Blinding smile. His rumbling laugh. The feel of his hands across my skin.
Another hit, harder this time. I sucked in a breath and held it. I wanted it to stop, but not if it meant I’d just walk away to wait for the next. I wanted it to stop completely. All of it. Without Bard, there was no point in fighting, and I couldn’t go back to the way things were. Never again.
Maybe he’d be waiting for me in whatever place we go after we die, and everything would be okay again.
Another hit across the first cut, and it set fire to my skin.
I hissed between my teeth, and a small sound broke free. It was too much. I was too weak.
Those eyes. His eyes. Think about him. Drake couldn’t touch me. He couldn’t beat me. I was stronger now.
Another hit, and my mouth opened around a silent cry. The sound caught in my chest, clogged my throat, and stole my breath.
“Dammit, you’ve gotten tough!” Drake hit me twice in quick succession, once on each side. “What the hell have they been doing to you out here?”
I didn’t respond. My back burned with an all-too-familiar sensation, and I cursed myself for ever believing this would end. How could I have ever thought I’d escaped? I’d never escape. He wouldn’t let me, not so long as blood still flowed through my body.
Drake moved closer and put his face right up against the side of mine.
“Do you love him?” he asked, his voice soft. I knew better than to trust the tone. Nothing about Drake had ever been soft.
“I do,” I rasped. “He’s more than you’ll ever be.”
Drake grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the tree. My nose crunched, vision swam, and warmth trickled down to my lips.
He broke my nose.
This was bad. Drake never messed with my face. He always stuck to my back. It was never anything that he would be forced to look at. The change in behavior let me know.
He was going to kill me.
I laughed.
“Is that funny?” The branch struck harder, over and over. My mouth opened wide as he beat away at me, fury evident, until his breaths grew heavy and his pace slowed.
I broke.
An anguished cry ripped out of me. It echoed in the air and sent birds flying from the trees.
Drake hummed. “There it is.” He finally stopped.
I sagged, hung limply against the trunk and floated through the pain, drowning in it.
Drake reached up and cut the rope, letting me fall to the ground in a heap. “You’re my girl, Jessie. Always have been. Always will be.” He nudged me with the toe of his boot. “Get up.”
I tried. I really did, but nothing worked. I flopped back down; my body broken.
Drake jerked me up by my arm, and the action sent a jolt of pain searing through my shoulder. He didn’t speak, just dragged me along without even pausing to pull the shirt back into place.
When we met up with the men again, they gaped at the sight of me. No humor filled their gazes. Even these men had their limits, but not one would speak up for me. They bowed their heads and looked away. Survival reigned supreme, and I wasn’t worth risking their lives for.
Drake dropped me to the ground. “One of you build a fire. We’re going to stay here tonight.”
I balled myself up
as small as I could and tried to ignore the burn. Drake took a seat beside me then reached over and yanked my shirt back into place. It felt like a million ants bit my flesh at once, but I didn’t move.
Soon. I had to believe it. He’d finish me off soon, and it would all be over.
The men scattered about and busied themselves collecting wood for the fire.
Drake touched my hair and pushed it away from my face. “I love you, Jessie. You know I do. This had to happen. You knew it would before you ran.”
I kept my face safely hidden from view and swallowed all the vile words itching to come out.
“You were nothing when I met you. You had nothing. I saved you. I took you in. Me! Not him.” He gripped my hair.
I froze and waited for the next blow.
It’s going to end. Eventually, it will be over.
Drake’s hand loosened and ran across my head. “Be honest. You missed me. Remember how it used to be? In the beginning?”
I loathed the feel of him touching me, gently caressing my hair as if he cared. As if this was all normal. It churned my gut and tightened my chest.
“Don’t you remember?” His hand moved to my cheek, across the dried blood still covering the lower half of my face. “You said you loved me.”
“I lied.”
He gripped my hair again, tighter.
I sealed my eyes shut, waited for the pain, but it never came.
Instead, the crack of a shotgun rattled the atmosphere.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
The sound ricocheted through the air, and a chain reaction of chaos erupted in the group.
Drake jumped up and scanned the area, his gun already out and in his hand. The other men looked the same, eyes wide and nervous. Tense moments passed, but no new fire came, and Drake turned his hard eyes on me. “You said he was dead!”
“He is,” I rasped. Bard wouldn’t have fired a shotgun. He was smarter than that. He’d never alert them of his presence. That left only one other explanation. “Check the trees. There are trip wires set up.”
Drake’s eyebrows lifted. He slowly moved around the area. Sure enough, he must have found something because I heard him softly mutter, “Well, I’ll be damned.” He walked back over to me. “Did you do that?”
I didn’t answer.
“Right. He did it.” His expression darkened. “That fire ain’t going to build its damn self!” he yelled at the men.
They scrambled back to their task.
Drake took back his position next to me, but he didn’t speak. He played with his gun, removed the bullets and put them back, pulled the hammer, and eased it out. It was another mind game; one I’d seen him do a million times before.
It didn’t work, not when I was praying he’d stop fucking around and get it over with.
“Sit up!” Drake pulled me by my hair until I was upright beside him.
I hissed and clenched my jaw as he pulled me close into his side. It made me sick. I felt his warmth and smelled his cologne.
He slung an arm across my shoulders and held me as if we were two lovers on a camping trip.
I couldn’t pull away. I wanted to. I wanted to run, burn the clothes he’d contaminated, then find the nearest cliff face to jump from.
But I didn’t. I was a coward.
We sat like that while the rest worked to get the fire going, then each of them took a seat around it. I watched them all. I saw their eyes linger over the pair of us before they’d shift away to feign interest somewhere else.
They didn’t like it, I could tell. A change had taken place the moment they’d seen my back. These men may not be good, but even the Onyx Eagles had a code.
Drake, however, didn’t. They all knew if they spoke out, he’d put a bullet in their brain without so much as blinking.
I sat stiffly. I was numb emotionally and physically. Even the cuts on my back ceased to burn.
I may as well be dead.
It felt like I was just a corpse being hugged by a demon and staring into the flames of hell.
Then, an angel appeared.
Out of my peripheral, a movement shifted in the trees. I tilted my head over and stared into the dark, waiting to see it again, praying my mind hadn’t played a trick on me.
The men around the fire talked amongst themselves, but the words didn’t register. Their voices seemed distant as if each syllable traveled through a tunnel before it reached me.
It happened again, and my heart lurched. I squinted my eyes and fought to make out a shape, but the fire made it impossible. The light turned the dark to black, and the more I focused, the less I saw.
A bush stirred, and a shadow appeared. It was barely visible, but the movement made it clear. It wasn’t my imagination. It darted from one tree to the other, then the next.
A shape.
A man.
A very large man.
Bard was alive.
A half sob, half laugh rushed out of me and drew the attention of every man around the fire.
“Something wrong?” Drake asked.
I fought back a vindictive grin.
“My back burns,” I answered in the overly sweet tone I usually reserved for Officer Jones.
Drake smirked. “My arm’s a little sore.”
I hated him. What had I ever seen in him?
“That’s unfortunate.” I looked back down and prayed for the attention to leave me.
He stared at me for a full five minutes while the others sat on bated breath.
Drake snorted then turned back to the group and resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before.
I carefully cut my eyes over, but the shape was already nowhere in sight. My heart was light. I could feel him, feel those intense eyes on me, and I knew he was alive. Bard was alive. He’d found me.
Bard would save me.
Even with Drake so close, I felt safe. Even if it didn’t seem like it, I was safe.
I stared unseeing at the dirt between my legs and racked my brain for a plan. I needed to get away, but Drake would never let it happen. The cuts on my back made fighting my way out impossible. I’d only last two seconds, and now that I knew Bard was alive, death wasn’t an option.
I looked up at Drake’s profile. Maybe I could draw him away.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
Drake cut his eyes back over to me. “Fred, take Jessie into the woods.”
I bit my tongue.
Drake smiled at me, his eyes knowing.
If I ran, he’d blame Fred, and he knew I would never put him in that position.
Fred rose to his feet and helped me to mine. “C’mon girl.”
I followed beside him, my gaze searching as we ventured closer to where I’d seen the familiar shadow. Each movement caused the burn in my back to resurface, but I swallowed the pain and clung to the new hope I’d been granted.
Fred stopped beside a tree. “Don’t run, girl. You know what he’ll do if you try.”
I nodded.
He cleared his throat. “It didn’t used to be like this. His daddy never…I would never…”
I held a hand up. “I know. You’ve told me a dozen times.”
He nodded, his face coated in shame. “I’m sorry…”
“I get it. Can you turn your back or something?”
Fred cleared his throat again and quickly did like I’d asked.
The moment he turned, I scanned the trees, and I barely had to search at all before he appeared.
Silent as the night around us, Bard stepped into view. He was so close; maybe twenty feet away. He was real, and breathing, and alive. I covered my mouth to stop a fresh sob from bursting free, and I blinked back my tears.
His hair resembled dread locks. It hung around him, matted with mud. The same brown coated his upper half, and in the pale moonlight, he looked almost unreal.
A wild man.
Bard crept closer, and my eyes darted nervously over my shoulder, back to the old man’s head, my old friend,
and I knew.
Bard would take him out. Fred was the only one I didn’t want that to happen to. But did I really want to sacrifice myself to save him? He hadn’t extended the same favor to me.
One look at his gray hair and wide shoulders and I had my answer.
Yes. I would because I wasn’t like them. That wasn’t my life anymore. I was more.
I waved my hands at Bard in a no motion, and he paused.
There was no way for me to explain my odd behavior to him. It wasn’t like I could speak. As much as I loved Fred, I didn’t trust him to not alert Drake of Bard’s presence.
So I motioned for him to wait, and turned to stand beside Fred, making certain he wouldn’t look behind him. “All done.”
“That was quiet.” He gave me a look full of skepticism.
I shrugged then flinched as my shirt rubbed against one of the cuts. I sucked in a breath, shook the pain away, and met his gaze.
“You’re the only friend I had at the club Fred,” I said, voice as loud as I could make it without drawing more suspicion. I prayed Bard would hear the words and understand. “I missed you.”
The old man’s smile was warm. “Yeah, I missed you too, kid. Although, I can’t say I’m glad to see you, given the circumstances.”
I embraced him in a light hug, using the action to look over his shoulder.
Bard still stood in the same position as he stared at me, seemingly unafraid of the possibility that Fred might turn around.
He didn’t acknowledge my words, but I took his turning to hide back amongst the trees as a sign of understanding.
Anyone but Fred.
We finished the short walk back to the fire, and Drake’s eyes followed my steps. I tried to sit away from him, but he grabbed my hand and drew me back to his side.
His arm rounded my shoulders, and the action lit fire to the wounds. I flinched, bit the inside of my cheek, and focused on the ground.
The pain didn’t matter anymore.
Bard was alive. He’d come for me. It would all be over soon.
I looked up at Drake. Karma had always taken his side. She’d always blessed him, even though he never deserved it.
But I didn’t need karma.
