Behind The Woods

by Emma Vikes

Chapter 15

  Jasmine

  Someone kept murmuring my name, the voice low and cautious, my name almost a whisper from his lips. I wasn’t sure who it was. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been calling me. But I knew he was near me – probably sitting beside me – but not close enough to poke me with a hand.

  “Jasmine!” His voice was louder now and the sound gave me a start, my eyes fluttering open then abruptly closing because of the harsh fluorescent light

  I groaned and rolled to my side, the texture of the cemented floor leaving marks on my skin. “Jasmine.”

  This time, I opened my eyes slowly so I could adjust to the light. He was nothing more than a silhouette but as my sight adjusted, I let out a gasp. “Damien.”

  My brother looked ragged, so different from the sixteen-year-old brother I lost a year ago. His blonde hair was long and curled around his neck. There was even a subtle hint of a beard growing on him. My heart soared at the sight of him. He looked like a man even when he was still considered a teen, as if everything he was going through suddenly forced him to be a man.

  “Damien.”

  His brown eyes were shining with tears and I knew the same relief that I saw in his eyes was reflected in mine. I crawled to where he was, taking in the fact that we were separated by iron bars as if we were in a cell. “Jasmine. It’s been a while, sis.”

  I reached out to touch him tentatively, placing a hand on the side of his face and watching him lean to my touch in response. The relief blossomed further within me and I pulled him by the shirt and hugged him as much as the barrier allowed me. Damien hugged me back with the same intensity and I could feel his tears dripping on my neck.

  When we pulled away, I placed both my hands on his face. “What happened to you?”

  Damien blinked, slowly removing my hands and lowering them down. He swallowed. “They took me when I neared the woods. I’ve been here for a year, Jasmine, doing whatever they told me to in order to survive.”

  My heart broke at that and I could see the horror that he’d seen in his eyes. I only then noticed the bruises that covered his body and the split lip that he was sporting. I touched it gingerly and he placed a soothing hand on top of mine. “It was either be shipped to another country carrying drugs in my system, or this, Arty. I’d rather fight teens my age for entertainment than be that. Either way, I’m dead. It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, the tears streaming down my face as I pulled him closer to me again, refusing to let him go. “I shouldn’t have…I should’ve…I’m so, so sorry, Damien. I was supposed to look after…you…and I failed.”

  I was a hysterical mess as my brother held me in his arms and despite the iron bars serving as a barrier between us, it didn’t stop us from clinging to each other, in the same way, we did when we lost Dad. “Shh, it’s not your fault, Arty. I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have gone to the party the moment Mr. Heckles wasn’t looking at our house. What happened to me is all my fault.”

  The sound of footsteps entered the room. I could feel Damien’s tension as he held me. His dark brown eyes weren’t focused on me anymore but on the figure that was approaching us. His steps were slow and measured and as he slowly materialized into the small overhead fluorescent light above Damien and me, I took in how he looked. Tall and lanky, hair dyed blonde because his roots were showing. His expression was meant to be warm and kind as he knelt in front of my cell.

  “Hello. I see you’re finally awake,” he said, his tone clipped. He tilted his head to the side as he assessed me. There was something eerie about him. As if he wasn’t staring at human beings but at caged animals. Damien tightened his hold on me. “How’s the sibling reunion? Did you get everything you’ve ever prayed for, Damien?”

  He spoke Damien’s name in a casual manner as if they were long-time friends. Damien hissed under his breath as if he was fighting everything in him not to say anything to offend the man in front of us. “It would’ve been better if we met in different circumstances, Ross.”

  Ross.

  It was a name that Wes sometimes murmured in his sleep. I wanted to say something but the way Damien held me told me to keep quiet. Ross chuckled grimly as he turned his attention to me. “I would never have thought that Kian would end up running into you. Hell, I didn’t even think Kian survived what happened to him. We thought he was dead and was eaten by a mountain lion, remains never to be found. But word got out of a John Doe in your hospital and I sent my men to make sure the job was finished. But the task got too tedious for my guys and there were things I needed to execute so I could get everything done quickly.”

  Damien’s hold on me went lax as he stared at Ross in disbelief. “Kian’s alive?”

  Ross rolled his eyes. “Yes, Damien, your dear hero is alive and kicking. Amnesiac, but alive. They always did say it was hard to kill a bad man.”

  Damien looked like he was about to say something but stopped himself and bit his tongue. Ross noticed his reaction and smirked and then reached out to touch my face. His touch sent a horrible shiver down my spine. It felt like being touched by something slimy and cold, like I was being touched by a snake. I wanted to back away but Damien held me firmly and in my place.

  There was something with what Ross had said that made me think. “What do you mean that you had to execute something to get everything done?”

  Ross seemed satisfied with my curiosity. He lifted up his left pant leg and I stared at the bionic leg he had on. “It wasn’t easy to get it fashioned so quickly but I needed to get my ass back to work.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  He smirked. “I see why Kian likes you. He’s always had a thing for feisty girls. When my men came back and told me that Kian escaped them in the hospital, I knew I needed to drag my old team into this. I faked my own death, you see, blew a part of this shed with the dead bodies of the old teammates we had in our mission and cut my own leg in the process so they thought I was as dead as the rest. Kian was the only one who wasn’t there. I turned him into a rogue agent.”

  “You actually cut your own leg for theatrics?” Jasmine asked in shock.

  Something flashed in Ross’ eyes. “Sometimes there are things that you have to sacrifice to get things done. Kian was a loose end. I needed him gone but it seems like even the CIA is having trouble finding and convicting him. They’ve done nothing but ask around and they’ve been passing by your house since there seems to be unusual activities going on in there.”

  Ross looked at me with a smirk this time. “Strange how the man who kidnapped your brother became the person that you saved, Jasmine. I’ve watched how you are with each other and heard you two were fucking with each other when I sent a man to your house to kill him. I’m not sure you’re supposed to canoodle with patients, Jasmine.”

  I tensed at his words. The fact that he had been monitoring our lives made me feel sick. I didn’t know who he was. All I knew was that he was evil. But something else caught my attention. Something flashed behind him. A figure was coming close behind him, taking slow and measured steps to get to where we were. I couldn’t make out his face. But I knew that body.

  Wes.

  “That’s a nice bionic leg you have there, Ross.”

  Something changed in Ross’ expression when he heard the voice and he slowly turned around to face Wes. Damien stared in amazement at Wes, the disbelief so clear in his eyes. “Inspired by your own father, Kian.”

  Wes scoffed and then tilted his head to the side. Under the harsh glow of the fluorescent light, he was unrecognizable, as if he was a man changed and not the guy I spent the past days hooking up with in my house, not the guy I left at the motel earlier. It was as if he had transformed into a different person overnight and he was now unrecognizable.

  “My father lost his leg serving our country. You lost yours to get the CIA to do your dirty work for you. I’ve always known you liked playing it dirty. Didn’t you always tell me th
at it was better to outwit them than resort to combat?”

  Ross seemed satisfied that Wes was now in front of him and he casually pulled out his gun, twirling it around his hand. Wes didn’t seem to have any weapon with him. “Ah, but you thought that the only way to win is to spill blood, no matter what.”

  Wes tensed at his words but didn’t want the panic to show on his face as he stared at Ross. “Why would you do this? You have children, Ross. Why would you resort to this? What would Jack think of his father?”

  It seemed as if there was a hidden meaning behind his words as Ross became angered, and less nonchalant about his gun. Wes didn’t even seem fazed. He didn’t even react when I gasped. His jaw was clenched tight, his attention solely on Ross.

  “Jasmine.” My name was said in a whisper and I jumped when I heard it. Damien and I turned to the side.

  Paul.

  The relief that flooded through me when I saw my friend almost rivaled the relief I felt upon seeing Damien alive and well. Paul moved over to the side of the cell. Ross had his back turned on us as Paul began to fidget with the lock. Before Paul became a cop, he always had a knack with unlocking locks. If he hadn’t turned toward the direction of fighting for the right thing, he would’ve made one hell of a thief.

  He opened the lock quickly and ushered us out. But I stayed rooted in my position, staring at Wes, who was talking to Ross in a heated exchange.

  “Wes!”

  I shouldn’t have called his name. I shouldn’t have reminded Ross that I was still there with them. I should’ve allowed Damien to drag me out of the place and follow Paul. But the moment that Wes heard my voice, he lost focus and turned to look at me, the worry flashing in his eyes.

  It was the split second that Ross needed to land him a punch.

  But Wes was quick to retaliate and soon enough, they were both on the ground, tackling each other and throwing punches until Wes had the upper hand. “I’ve always been better at combat than you ever were.”

  I watched as Ross had the audacity to laugh. “And I’ve always been smarter than you.”

  The moment that he said that, one by one his men materialized out of the darkness. Paul grabbed me by the waist and hauled me up over his shoulder as the men went to Ross’ aid, removing Wes from him easily and locking him for Ross to throw punches at him.

  I struggled in Paul’s grasp, fighting his grip. “No! No! We can’t leave him, Paul! Wes! No!”

  I was hysterical. Everything was happening too fast. I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around everything or anything. One moment, I was relieved to see my brother again, in the next, it was revealed to me that Wes did have something to do with the kidnapping. But even if the truth was shed on that issue, it didn’t change what I felt about him and this situation proved just that. I didn’t want to leave.

  “Paul, please, you need to help him! Help him! Please!”

  But he wasn’t responding to my pleading and Damien had to help him get me out of the place.

  “No! Why would you just leave him there?”

  “Jasmine, please!” Paul begged me to leave but I tried my best to stay firmly rooted even when I didn’t have the same strength as two guys, even if they were practically dragging me out.

  Ross still hadn’t noticed that we were escaping. Either that, or he didn’t really care because he had Wes. It seemed as if everything else didn’t matter to him but Wes and I had a horrible feeling of what was going to happen.

  “You could’ve made a good ally, Kian,” Ross said, his hand gripping Wes’ hair. I hated how he kept calling him Kian, even if it was probably his real name, as far as I could gather with everything that went on.

  Wes spat at him. “I’m not a monster like you, Ross.”

  Ross smirked and laughed humorlessly and then leaned closer to Wes. By this time, Damien, Paul and I were near the exit. It was a struggle for the two of them to drag me all the way out. “Really, Kian? You’re the one who took pleasure in spilling blood from the start, when we were still in training. In fact, between the two of us, you were the one who loved watching the fight club between our prisoners and the others. You even bet against everyone else.”

  I felt Damien tense at that. Ross continued to speak, “And isn’t that what you taught Damien? That fighting’s a necessary tool to learn to survive. If you never learn how to throw the right punch…”

  “You’ll never survive,” Damien whispered beside me, finishing Ross’ words. I turned my attention to my brother, remembering how he mentioned earlier that he had to do what he had to in order to survive.

  “You made him one hell of a fighter, Kian. Props to you on that. He’s the best we’ve ever had. Of course, that’s because he was personally trained by you. If you were on the verge of death every time you were trained, it would truly make you one hell of a fighter.”

  His words clearly had an effect on Wes because he tried to fight against the restraints on him. Damien tugged at my hand, pulling me outside. My head was spinning, desperately wanting to know what Ross meant about Wes. The three of us were finally outside but they were still holding me.

  “What did he mean about Wes teaching you?” I said, turning to look at my brother.

  Damien turned away. “Not now, Jasmine. Kian is probably going to die in there? Paul! Please tell me you two brought reinforcements!”

  Paul’s forehead creased with worry, his face grim. “Wes and I took a chance with things. He had evidence on a flash drive and told me to send it to the CIA. I’m still not sure if they’re sending reinforcements or if they understood whatever information Wes had on that drive.”

  The panic that I felt earlier when we were inside, the one that went away after I heard what Ross said, came back in a split second. Paul and Damien had let go of me at this point so there was no one holding me back from running back inside to help Wes. Even if I had no clue what I could possibly do to help him out.

  But that didn’t stop me from running and just as I got back to the scene, Ross had a gun pointed at Wes and Wes looked so helpless at that moment, beaten up and on his knees.

  A shot rang out and all I could hear was a deafening scream.

  The scream came from me.

  EPILOGUE

  Jasmine

  The blue and red lights were blinding and the sound of the ambulance almost made me go deaf.

  I flashed back to two weeks ago, when I was running back to the bodega when the gunshot I heard made me stop. That was the pause that Paul needed to drag me back out and he had refused to let me back inside, holding me firmly in place between him and my brother.

  I could still remember the cold fear I felt for Wes, the desperation surging in my veins. I needed to know if he was okay but Paul wouldn’t let me. He didn’t want to leave either Damien or me and a part of me hated myself for being worried about someone I didn’t really know when my brother, who I hadn’t seen in a year since he’d been kidnapped, was right beside me. I could’ve left the place and left Wes and made sure that Damien was safe but I didn’t.

  I didn’t want to leave Wes. I wanted to know if he was alive or if he was the one shot. It didn’t help that I didn’t know what was going on and that Paul wasn’t saying anything. By the time the ambulance came, it was as if I was snapped back into reality, the siren bringing me back. Paul held me firmly in place still until one by one, there were people being pulled out.

  It only occurred to me then that more than one person was injured and that it wasn’t just a single gunshot. Maybe the one I heard was the first of many. Maybe I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to notice the shooting that followed after that first shot. But from the moment that the paramedics wheeled out the men who were inside, my heart raced in fear and anticipation.

  Until Wes stumbled out, dragged by paramedics. He was pale and the blood on his shirt snapped me to attention and I rushed to his side. I remembered how he caught me when I propelled myself at him, suddenly forgetting the blood on his shirt. But just as I felt his arms ar
ound me, we were torn apart because he was taken away and I remembered thrashing all over again in Damien’s arms while my brother tried to calm me down.

  “Poor Mr. Heckles.”

  I jumped in surprise and turned to look at Damien. I didn’t even hear him join me in the patio as we both watched the paramedics drag Mr. Heckles out of the house, oxygen mask placed on his face. My heart squeezed at the sight, the worry I felt for him heightening as I watched him being loaded up. I would have gone with him to the hospital but I was suspended for going AWOL and for letting a patient escape.

  If Dr. Geller hadn’t help me, I probably wouldn’t have any job to go back to. A suspension was better than getting fired.

  Damien pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head. It was nice having him back. He was still adjusting and he had to go to counseling. He was scarred from the kidnapping and all the deaths that he had to go through. People that had become his friends who were also prisoners of Ross and his men.

  Damien explained everything about Ross to me. Well, everything that he knew anyway. Wes couldn’t be with us because he was taken away by the CIA and I still didn’t know if he was okay or not. I kept pestering Paul to give me updates but he told me that those things were classified at the moment and if Wes was convicted with whatever charges they had on him, he would tell me.

  According to Damien, Ross had been working with that group even before they were assigned to the mission and that Ross was the one who kidnapped him from the woods. He’d been a part of it for so long and wanted to sabotage the entire thing but liked the way Wes spiced everything up with the whole fight club idea.

  Damien reasoned that Wes only thought up the fight club idea to give the teens more time to stay alive rather than be used as human mules, packaged with drugs, to be flown off to a different continent to deliver the goods.

  Damien told me that Wes personally trained him and that he was fucking good at combat but was brutal at it too. The number of times that he was near death was traumatizing but ultimately made him a good fighter, a claim that I had heard Ross make, too. “Hey.”