“Wouldn’t you like to know,” the laugh that followed chilled her to the core. A never-ending cackle. “I will never let you have her. She’s an angel. She has to be forgiven for ever giving in to a heathen like you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean you sick son of a bitch?” She was screaming into the phone. Terrified by his rantings, a lunatic delighting in his show. In his ability to get a rise from the audience.
“She will be cleansed, rid of your filth. Reborn. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.”
“Tell me where she is!”
The line went dead, but Jak didn’t stop talking, begging. Yelling into the receiver.
“Where did you take her? If you hurt her I will kill you!”
She felt the tears that ran down her face but was just as helpless to stop them from flowing as she was stopping Mike.
It has to be a dream. This can’t be happening. It’s all a cruel joke. She tried to ignore the irrefutable evidence, deny the familiar voice. Convince her mind it wasn’t true, but her heart broke with the undeniable proof. It can’t be. Mike had turned on her. Had he been acting all this time? Playing her a fool? Please be a joke.
“Not her. I can’t. Please…anyone but Sam. I can’t live without her.” She felt herself slipping, getting lost in despair. Falling down a hole she may never crawl out of.
No, I have to find her. You can’t just sit here and do nothing.
XXIII
Jak sprinted to her truck and flipped the blue light on. She didn’t care that it wasn’t legal, every car that shifted out of her path got her there a fraction of a second sooner. Nothing was going to stop her.
Taking Jefferson to Route 150. Speeding up the highway. Going to the first place that came to mind. Her odometer read one hundred as she crossed the bridge. Trying in vain, the entirety of the ride, to wake up. To think of any reason Mike would trick her so. Find any memory that could lead her to this deception.
Mike’s beat up green pickup could be seen sitting in the parking lot before she even turned the corner. Her foot slammed down, barely breaking in time before hitting the building. She didn’t bother attempting to guide the truck into one spot. Her blue light still flashed in the windshield. There was no time to waste on such trivial tasks.
Keys jingled as she ran to the door. Knowing it was the adrenaline that caused her hands to shake, delaying her entry. The door acting as an immovable barrier. Keeping her from her destination, from finding the answers. It took a second for Jak to calm herself enough to unlock the building. Nearly tripping as she blew through the obstacle.
Once inside the firehouse, she saw a light on in the office. Only the line officers had keys. The world was moving in slow motion. It was taking too long to get there. The stairs creaked as she bound up them. They were sturdy enough to take the pressure, not that it was really a concern at the moment.
Predictable as always, Mike was sitting at his desk. Could she really still think of him as predictable after the last few minutes? Lounged out as if nothing was going on. He clearly didn’t see her coming. How did he not know she would come here first? And where was Sam? She didn’t appear to be in the office or engine room. Was it all a hoax? If this was all a joke and Sam was in on it…
Just as he looked up, Jak’s fist collided with his face. His jaw forcefully moving his head. Why the hell did you hit the jaw and not the nose? Faintly, she could feel her hand throbbing. The adrenaline numbing the pain. It wasn’t enough to put him on the floor, but he did fall back in the chair.
“You son of a bitch. Where is she?”
“What the hell Jak? Where is who?”
“Don’t play games with me. How could you? What about Beth, she isn’t enough for you? You had to take her from me? Have you been pissed this entire time?”
Jak grabbed at his shirt, raising her hand to swing again but something held her back. Maybe it was because she knew, if she beat him to a bloody pulp, she would never find Sam.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What did I do?”
“Where is Sam?” She repeated. Anger and fear fueling her every action, surging her onward.
Her fists were still balled, her temper rising. She was seeing red, steam blowing from her nostrils. A bull kicking before the charge. The false innocence fueling her. A wildfire waiting to burst forth, to consume everything in its path. She would leave everything in ashes. There would be nothing left, but he was the only person that knew where she was. And that fact was the only thing keeping him alive at this point.
“Jak I haven’t seen Sam since the other night. What is this about?”
She would end this charade. Whether it was willing or by force. Her cell was pulled from its jean chamber. Dialing, without looking at the screen. Waiting for him to admit to the farce. She could hear the ringing as it began, waiting for the line to connect. For the ringtone she knew so well to echo in the small room, but it never came.
He could have silenced it. Stashed it in another room. Mike didn’t move from the chair. Didn’t appear to be hiding anything from her view. Would you even know if he did hide something from you? If he was telling the truth? How can you pretend to know anything about the man in that chair? The line connected.
“Why are you calling again? You can’t stop me! Soon it will all be over.”
Color drained from Jak’s face and the phone fell from her hands, bobbling on the floor. If it wasn’t Mike…
“Jak what is it? Who did you call?”
She didn’t know what he saw in her face, but it must have relayed that something was amiss. Well, besides being punched for no reason. Clearly seeing the fear that froze her in place. Jak just stood there, unable to talk. No! How? Who? She couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone get her mouth to cooperate. To explain her actions or tell Mike what led her here. Why she had barged in and decked him. What the cause of her fear-stricken face was.
Finally rising from the chair, he picked the phone up. Looking at the screen before he spoke to the stranger on the other side.
“Sam, what is going on? Jak is acting really weird.”
“Mike, good. I want you to experience this loss too. You two have gotten everything. Hogged all the glory, while I fell into the background. Not anymore! I will not be ignored.”
“Stewy?”
“Don’t call me that!”
Jak could hear the venomous statement, as clear as if she had been holding the phone. Pure undiluted hatred.
The mention of his name jarred her memory. As she looked at her friend, flashes passed through her mind. Stew was at the bar with his buddies that night at Hoops. She didn’t pay him any mind, as he ran with a different crowd. He must have been the one who called the police on them in the parking lot. Had he followed them? Was he watching as she touched Sam?
He was with her at the school, during the fire alarm, when she found Sam. Had he passed her in the hall while she waited for Mike to exit? She had definitely given him everything he needed to know as Mike teased her on the way back to the house. Had he been listening in to her conversations, positioning himself to get information? Eavesdropping on her calls to Mike? He must have been at the Firehouse when she called before going to Saddle Up. Vaguely, she recalled him being at the bar that night too. It hadn’t seemed unusual at the time, since he worked there.
Jak attempted to concentrate on the conversation Mike was having. It was muted in the background of her mind as her thoughts ran in dizzying circles. His face hidden in the backdrop everywhere she went. Had she been so distracted that she didn’t see any of this coming. Didn’t see him lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Why now? Why Sam? Sam!
Fury brought the world back in surround sound. Snatching the phone from Mike.
“Stewart, you had better tell me where she is! Or so help me…”
“I will do nothing of the sort. She is mine now! Just like she always should have been. Now you can feel how I do. Like your feet have been swept out from under
you. Like the world is ending.”
He was right, the world was ending. Life was already turning gray, lifeless. This couldn’t be happening. It was a terrible joke. That’s it. He found her phone somewhere and was playing a prank. Not a funny one, but since when was Stewy ever funny? No matter how many times it proved otherwise, her mind clung to the absurdity of it all.
“Never again will you pollute her aura. Take the most precious of beings, dirtying her soul with depraved and atrocious acts. She will be free from the wickedness.”
The room was spinning. None of it fit together. The line went dead again. Stewart was gone and, with him, Sam. She was on overload, her head pounding. Where could she be? How could he have gotten to her in a locked building? She had left Sam at the condo that morning. She hadn’t planned on going anywhere. She had nothing to do, nowhere to go.
“Just going to lie in bed and enjoy the peace,” Sam said as she sprawled out on the bed. The sheet covering next to nothing. Her leg and hip exposed. Merely encompassing her nipples and her supple center.
“Don’t get too comfortable, I have a surprise for you tonight.”
“It couldn’t be better than last night, or this morning.” The sultry innuendo nearly made her stay with Sam, but she had an appointment she couldn’t reschedule. Why didn’t you stay? None of this would be happening if you didn’t leave.
Shockingly, after attacking him, Mike was still there to catch her when she thought her legs would no longer hold her up. All her life, he had been her rock. The one person that she could turn to during the darkest of times. To ask a favor with no questions asked. How could I’ve assumed the worst of him so quickly?
As always, he was there supporting her. Carrying the weight, she couldn’t bear to hold on her own.
XXIV
Eyes flickered as the light streamed in. Sam blinked a few times, trying to force the room to slowly come into focus. For life to come back into view. Her body shivered but she didn’t feel cold. It was as if she had a restless sleep that ended long before her mind was ready to face another day. It had been so long since she had gotten drunk. Was she drinking? Simply hung over? The spinning seemed to suggest it. The nausea too. Her eyes straining to stay open.
The smell implied she was in a garbage chute. A downright nauseating, putrid, smell filled her nostrils. She had to wake up, to get away. She was going to be sick. Could she get up? Her body weighed a ton. Her arms felt like lead casing held them down.
Fighting against the black. Endeavoring to break free from the prison in her mind. She heard a footstep beside her. Nearly calling out, assuming Jak was coming back from the bathroom. Did I drink the apartment? Why does it hurt so much? Trying to swallow, to clear her throat, but it was too tight. Her stomach lurched, threatening to heave the last vestige of dignity she had left all over the floor. Just don’t toss your cookies in front of her.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she remembered another scuffle. A shoe that didn’t belong in her story. The recollection forced her eyes all the way open. Alert, searching for the intruder. For the person that would steal her dream. Her fairytale had ended, where was princess charming to rescue her?
She appeared to be in a house. A living room, based on the tacky décor. Everything from the drapes to the floral couch screamed grandma. It wasn’t a place she recognized. The walls were lined with paper. The television was an old box with a turn dial, something she had nearly forgotten existed. Why am I so tired? Between her stomach and her throat, she thought she was going to die. Possibly from rectifying her stomach issue.
“Good you’re awake.”
Where am I? Who are you? Where is Jak? Sam tried to voice her questions, concerns. Instead hearing herself say, “Wharm ru isak.” She shook her head to clear the sluggishness, but the motion only made her dizzier.
“Shhh…it’s okay. You’re safe.”
She couldn’t see the man that spoke to her. Her mind was caught in a fog. She tried to move her hands, reach out, but they didn’t move. Restraints dug into her wrists and held her in place. Sam tried again, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. Her head was swimming, pounding to the beat of a drum. Was it her pulse beating in her ears? How did I get here? Where is here?
“You’re safe. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” Finally, something intelligible.
“From yourself of course. I know you were led astray, but I’ll help you. Be your shepherd, until you can join the flock.”
“Who are you?”
She wanted to yell. To scream at the top of her lungs. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, in that stupid straight jacket, her mother made her keep her poise. Insisted that she always keep control of her surroundings. Rationalizing, if she was being held captive, you don’t piss off the captor.
“I’m a humble servant. A vessel to do his bidding. Rescuing you from the clutches of the beast.”
“What? What beast? Where am I? Why am I tied up?” What the heck? She couldn’t, as of yet, tell if he was serious. How did this man fit into her circumstances? Was he the villain or was he here to set her free?
Floorboards creaked as footsteps drew near. His frame towered over her chair. She was still too fatigued to crane her neck, to see his face, to confront the man that held her. The back of his long ruff hand slid along her cheek and she nearly bit it off. Instead turning her head away. Don’t get yourself killed!
* * *
She turns away from your touch. She scorns you after all you have risked for her. Was he wrong? Was she just like every other woman in his life? Accusing him of being a disappointment?
No. I have to reach her. Make her understand. Soon she will beg for forgiveness. Show remorse for the rejection. Unlike Grandmother, she will love me. It’s that wretched demon.
“Not to worry my angel, I would never harm you. You are a mirror of his perfection.”
“Then let me go.”
“You must learn first. You have to see the truth.”
“See? What is there to learn? You are a crazy person that has abducted me.”
“Jak is poisoning your mind. Keeping you from the light. I’m here to free you from her control. In time you will see. Jak can never give you what I can. She will bring your end. Clipping your wings while setting your soul ablaze. All she is, all she will ever be is heartbreak and pain. Spreading her disease everywhere she goes.”
He had waited for this. To talk to her, to interact in any way. Samantha had been the object of his desire for so long, he knew what she needed better than she did. The rapture is upon us and I will make sure she lands on the right side.
* * *
She had heard enough. If he wasn’t going to release her, why not give his name? Why take her? How did he know Jak? He was sounding crazier by the second.
That was what concerned her. He was being nice now; she was sure of that. The more his mind churned, she rejected his ideals, the more she was concerned his temper would flare. Jak’s disease? He was nothing more than a homo-hating insecure nut using religion to justify his actions and beliefs. As if God would approve of his hatred. The spread of malice and distrust. What happened to love thy neighbor? Treat others as you wanted to be treated? Why was she giving any credence to the ravings of a mad man?
Something inside her snapped. She had dealt with rats like him her entire life. Telling her what was “right”. What a “normal” girl was. How she should act and who to date. Not anymore. He can kill me, but I am not going to let a sniveling weasel run my life. I refuse to be anyone but me. They can’t hurt me anymore.
The voice droned on, but Sam no longer cared what he had to say for himself. Her eyes were less hazy and she was trying to take in her surroundings. Look for an exit. Get an idea as to what her location was. Drapes covered the windows. From her vantage point, she couldn’t see a doorway. She was facing the dining room. Presumably, the door was at her back. A fact she would confirm when her imprisoner left the
room. She tried not to think of her very full bladder and what it would take to use the facilities while tied to a chair.
She dared a glance at her restraints. Large ropes, frayed from years of use. They appeared to be as thick as her wrist. Not only tying her hands but strapping her to the chair itself. Even if she could convince him to leave, it would take forever to cut through these with a knife; something she didn’t have. Her hands twitched, screaming from the irritation. She didn’t want to know if they were bleeding, it wouldn’t make a difference in her circumstances.
The tick of a clock could be heard nearby. The incessant hum, presumably from a washing machine or dishwasher. Though, taking in to account the décor, Sam had no illusion this residence had any appliance newer than 1960. That awful smell permeated the air. Rotten, like there was a mountain of garbage just around the corner. She didn’t want to think about where the smell was coming from, yet couldn’t stop herself from searching for the answer. Possibly moldy dishes in the sink. There was no comparison that her mind conjured that could explain it away. It was new, foreign. Honestly, the worst thing to ever assault her senses and she had been trapped in a car with Jak after a structure fire.
Even still, she had nearly forgotten it was there as fear gripped at the forefront of her mind. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Her breathing was labored from the rope being too tight. Her wrists already had friction burn. The world had not quite snapped back. While she took in her surroundings, the picture appeared more abstract. Hazy around the edges. Did she have room for any other senses?
“Samantha.” His voice sounded angry. “Have you heard anything I’ve said to you?”
This was it. She had to make a decision. Be a drone, pretending to go along with this madness or speak her mind, possibly getting herself killed by this maniac in the process. Hair raised on the back of her neck as she felt him close in on her again.
Volunteering Your Heart Page 14
