Chase

by Chloe Thomas

  Chase

  Chloe Thomas

  No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner, including but not limited to electronic reproduction, photocopying, recording, storing or transmitting by any means in any form without the written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, places, businesses and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used entirely fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Samantha Colyer

  All rights reserved

  Warning: this book contains scenes of violence and abuse, that may be upsetting for some individuals. In addition to this, some scenes are of an adult nature.

  This book is recommended for those aged 18 and above.

  Preface

  Dear Readers,

  I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It’s been a labour of love now for several months and I’m really pleased with how it’s turned out.

  This is my first attempt at a novel and I’ll be honest, when I initially opened a blank document the words “how hard can it be” did go through my mind. Well after my first draft of chapter 1 stopped at 600 words, the answer to that statement became clear - very! It was too late by that point though, I was engrossed in the characters I’d created and needed to see what would happen to them. I wish that you too will become as absorbed and engaged in the subsequent pages as I have been.

  Thank you for picking up this book and taking a chance!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Rescue at last

  Chapter 2

  Getting her home

  Chapter 3

  Freedom

  Chapter 4

  Missing her

  Chapter 5

  Falling for him

  Chapter 6

  Discovering what this is

  Chapter 7

  Wanting something more

  Chapter 8

  Learning how to do long term

  Chapter 9

  The shock of a lifetime

  Chapter 10

  When your world comes crashing down

  Chapter 11

  Coming to terms with things

  Chapter 12

  Making a life changing decision

  Chapter 13

  Learning to trust

  Chapter 14

  Cause for alarm

  Chapter 15

  The happy ever after

  Epilogue

  The perfect family

  Naomi

  Secrets

  Chapter 1

  Rescue at last

  Arabella

  ————————————

  “No! Please stop... please you have to stop!”

  He’s beating me up again but this time is so much worse than before. It’s like his punches and kicks are harder than they ever have been, if that’s even possible. The pain is agonising. Perhaps it’s because he’s hitting so many bones that are already broken.

  My eyes are virtually swollen shut at this point but I can just make out the glint of a knife. I’m screaming and pleading at him to stop. Something tells me he’s going to go too far this time. I won’t pull through if he inflicts much more on me.

  He’s abused me before, beaten me till I was blue, suffocated me, stabbed me. You name it, he’s done it. Even if he hasn’t, one of the others has. But this time it’s like I can feel the life leaving my body, like it’s given up the fight. In fairness, I don’t blame it, what’s the point in fighting to live through this hell?

  I’ve been captured long enough now that I don’t think a rescue is going to come. I’m not sure exactly how long I’ve been here but it has to be several weeks if not months.

  I’m not sure if I’m devastated that I’ll die young, or ecstatic that this pain and suffering will end.

  He digs the edge of the blade into the skin on my naked thigh and starts to draw blood. The look in his eye is pure evil. This is not frustration that he’s taking out on me, he’s doing this for pleasure. He’s enjoying my torture. He starts to carve something into my leg. I can’t see what it is, not that I’d be able to make out shapes in amongst all the bruises, swelling and blood anyway. There’s blood everywhere, so much that I don’t see how it can all be from me. Just another god awful scar to add the list I suppose.

  I was happy before all this began. I’d graduated college, completed an internship and had started looking for a permanent job in California. I lived a quiet life and sure, perhaps I felt a bit lonely sometimes, but I had things going for me. I had a nice house, a car, a couple of close friends. All in all, at 23 years old life seemed pretty great. Until it didn’t.

  I don’t know why they took me or what they want from me. I’m not rich. I’m not connected to anyone famous or important so it’s not like I can be used as a bargaining chip for something. I haven’t made any dodgy deals with anyone that would want some sort of payback. I’m just a run of the mill girl. I grew up in suburbia with perfectly ordinary parents, a perfectly ordinary childhood and I have a perfectly ordinary adult life now, so why did they take me? Not a clue.

  I was snatched from the sidewalk in broad daylight whilst walking back home. I can’t remember much about it, presumably because they drugged me almost instantly. The next thing I knew I was here. In this tiny room with an old stained mattress on the floor and a bucket in the corner. Nothing else. They’ve kept me in this god awful place ever since with the door locked. It might as well be a prison cell. There’s a tiny strip of light coming from the oblong window right at the top of the wall. I’ve dreamed of escaping through it so many times but logically I know it’s too small for me to fit through, too high up, and I’ve nothing to break it with in any case. Sometimes I dream about overpowering them and running out when they open the door to check on me, or more accurately abuse me. It would be suicide though, there’s three of them that I’ve seen and they’re all huge. They tower above me and must weigh twice as much. This one seems to be the leader of the three. Wherever he goes they follow. He’s definitely the most vicious of them.

  They provide scraps of food and a single bottle of water per day. It’s been enough to keep me alive but barely. I was slim before all this so it’s not like I’ve got any reserve fat on me. In places I can see my own skeleton now.

  “Finally running out of fight little girl?” he smirks, as he towers over my helpless body dragging the knife up my leg and across my torso.

  Just looking at him makes me want to vomit, his greasy hair, yellow teeth and overhanging stomach burned into my memories. If I had to guess I’d say all my captors are Mexican, probably from a cartel.

  I try to scream as he plunges the knife hard into me again but no sound comes out. Is my body in shock, or has it finally given up. He takes the knife out and pushes it into a different part of my torso, laughing harder with each inch of the blade that disappears into my skin. How he’s managed to avoid hitting any major organs or blood vessels that would kill me instantly I don’t know. The other two are lurking in the doorway watching and jeering him on. I didn’t know people could be this evil. That someone could take so much joy out of maliciously hurting someone else, particularly someone that’s innocent. Of course I know sometimes people do bad things, there’s prisons full of criminals for crying out loud, but I guess I liked to think of those actions as mistakes. Things done in anger or difficult situations. Not something done for sport. I’d never thought of myself as naive until now.

  I’m starting to drift in out of consciousness I think. I can vaguely tell what’s going on around me but things are getting hazy. He pulls the knife out of me once more but to my surprise doesn’t plunge it in some
where else. Maybe he wants to keep me alive. As I squint at his face through swollen eyes though, his body language and expression seem to have done a 180. He’s not laughing or looking satisfied at the damage he’s inflicting on me. He’s looking tense now, alarmed even.

  “What the fuck is going on out there?! For fucksakes deal with it! Shoot them dead!” He’s barking commands at his sidekicks as they scurry out the room. “Unless it’s a woman of course. I fancy a new toy, this ones pretty wrecked now,” he shouts after the men before turning back to me with a smirk across his hideous face.

  It’s then I start to realise the background noise that’s upset him. There’s pops and bangs but I can’t place what’s causing the sounds. Gradually the noises get louder and it dawns on me that it’s gunfire. He’s looking increasingly panicked now and eventually sprints out of the room after his men, presumably to deal with the situation. The volume of gunfire increases, and the sounds reverberate off of the concrete walls that make up my cell. It’s deafening.

  The rational part of my brain is telling me I should be terrified and need to run. The cynical part says stay here and let it play out, it can’t exactly get any worse for you no matter what happens. It’s then I notice he’s left the door wide open in all the chaos. This could be my only chance to escape. I have to at least try. My body is too weak and injured to stand and make a run for it but a surge of Adrenalin gives me enough strength to drag my failing body to the doorway. I peer round the doorframe checking to make sure I’m not seen, but he’s there. He stares directly at me and despite his clear panic at what’s going on around him he still manages to laugh at me.

  “Thought you were going to escape in the chaos did you? I don’t think so bitch. I fucking own you.” He stalks towards me. My heart drops. The punishment for this will be unbearable.

  There’s another loud pop and he stops moving. His eyes freeze and then roll to the back of his head and he falls forward as if in slow motion, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. He’s dead. I stare at the lifeless body and perhaps I shouldn’t, but I feel glad. Maybe I should be focusing on who shot him and what’s about to happen next.

  The gunfire ceases and silence descends for a moment. Presumably none of the three men I’ve grown to despise are still alive. I tentatively look up from the dead body and find myself staring at the man who more than likely took the kill shot. He’s tall, muscular, tanned skin, short dark hair and a chiselled jawline. In another life I’d find him incredibly attractive. He looks like he should be a solider but he’s not in military clothes. Just a black t-shirt, black cargo pants and boots, with a rifle hanging down by his side.

  “Oh fuck! Levi where are you?!” It’s an American accent which gives me some hope that this ordeal might be close to ending. He’s staring at me with a mix of anger, pity and fear etched on his face.

  “Someone hit?” I hear another man, presumably Levi, yell from somewhere in the building.

  “You could say that” the first man mutters. He approaches me slowly and lowers himself to the floor. He probably expects me to scream or panic but truthfully I haven’t got the energy to do either.

  “Hi, I’m Chase. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.” I don’t reply. He starts taking off his shirt, and covers my naked body. “What’s your name?”

  “Arabella, but most people call me Belle.” My voice sounds weak.

  “Okay, my friend Levi here is going to help you, he’s the team medic.”

  “Fucking hell...” I hear Levi mutter. As he sets his backpack down and starts pulling various things out of it. I guess I’m not a pretty sight right now.

  Chase turns around and walks just out of sight, I assume to preserve what little dignity I have left, as Levi lifts the shirt covering me.

  For the next ten or so minutes Levi works away quietly on me, stopping the bleeding from the stab wounds and gluing them back together where necessary. He doesn’t say much apart from apologising when I wince in pain at his touch. Once he’s finished dealing with the wounds he starts checking me from head to toe for other injuries. He sees the bruising between my legs and looks at me in silent question. When I don’t answer he starts to ask through clenched teeth.

  “Arabella right? Do you think you can tell me what happened to you? I can see they’ve stabbed you several times and beat you up but what about anything else?”

  I know what he’s referring to. I’m not admitting it though. For some reason that only happened once the entire time I’ve been here, it was a few days ago now. Why they managed to restrain themselves up until that point I don’t understand. It’s almost as if they were under orders not too, so they abused me in just about every other way possible instead. After an awkward bit of silence Levi shakes his head.

  “Okay, you don’t have to say it, I guess I already know. When we get back we’ll have the hospital run some bloods. The rest of you is bruised pretty bad and there are a few broken bones but nothing that shouldn’t heal given time. The stab wounds weren’t too deep and don’t appear to have hit anything major. They might scar though.” He pulls a water bottle and what I presume is a glucose cube out of his pack and hands it to me. “You’re very weak. I assume you’ve been here a while and they’ve not exactly fed you well.”

  I nod at him, partly in thanks and partly as confirmation of what he’s just said. Tentatively I sip the water and nibble at the food.

  When I’m done Levi helps me sit up and pull the t-shirt over my head. The first man, Chase I think, wanders back in the room.

  “How is she?”

  “I’ve stopped the bleeding and glued the open wounds back together. Apart from that she’s bruised, has a few broken bones and is very weak. But she’ll recover.”

  Chase gets back on the floor with me.

  “Hey Belle, how’re you feeling,” he gently asks, his crystal blue eyes showing compassion and empathy.

  How am I feeling? It’s a good question. I guess I’m not scared anymore, these men seem to want to help me. Physically I hurt and feel very weak. Mentally I’ve blocked out all my emotions. I know that’s not a good thing but the pain of dealing with all that’s happened is just too much right now. It’s easier to act dead inside than to really think or feel.

  “Okay I guess.”

  “We’re gonna get you out of here but we’re very remote and can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves so we need to go on foot through the rainforest. It’s about a week or so before we’ll reach somewhere we can fly you home from and then get you seen at a hospital.” Home.. that’s a word I’ve been dreaming to hear for some time, so much so that I almost miss Chases mention of a rainforest.

  “Rainforest? Where are we?”

  “Columbia,” he looks almost surprised I’m asking but how would I know, I’ve not been outside of my prison cell since I got here.

  “Oh. I thought we were in Mexico.” I point to my captors dead body and Chase seems to understand.

  “He is Mexican. He’s from a Mexican cartel but they have a base here for drug smuggling. This whole area is owned by the cartel and we don’t want to be seen. We’ll trek through the rainforest till we cross the border to Brazil. There’s a small landing strip we used when we arrived here so we’ll get a plane back to America from there.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to be rescued. But I’m not strong enough to trek through a rainforest.”

  “I know. We’ll carry you between us all.”

  At the mention of all, I look around me and realise there’s three more men that have appeared. Just like Chase and Levi, they’re all wearing black t-shirts, black cargo pants, boots and have backpacks and guns. Perhaps I’ve got some sort of ‘damsel in distress’ complex but as looks go, they’re all stunning. Perfect muscle definition, great face structures, nice hair. Not quite as attractive as Chase, but still a week of trekking through a rainforest in dangerous territory doesn’t seem as daunting as it otherwise could with these guys. Every one of them looks like they’d la
y their life down for each other.

  “You’ve met Levi,” Chase points to the blond haired medic who patched me up. “This is Dean our navigator, Leo our tech guy and Noah, the man in charge.” Noah snorts.

  “You try controlling you 4, it’s like a bleeding petting zoo!” Chase gives him the finger whilst trying to withhold his smirk.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Arabella, though I wish it was under better circumstances.” Noah speaks like a gentleman but I can see how he could command the attention of a room and lead groups of men.

  “Are you soldiers?”

  “No, we’re a private black ops team but we’re all former special forces soldiers and we often do government missions that the US wants to keep off of the record. We can talk more later if you like but I’m afraid we need to get moving now, it’s not good to be here for too long,” Noah finishes and then bends towards me, presumably to pick me up.

  “I’ll carry her,” Chase quickly interjects. Noah steps back and looks at Chase for a moment before nodding.

  Chase delicately swoops me up in his arms but as gentle as he is, it still hurts. I’m still only wearing his t-shirt but it’s so long on me that it covers enough. This should feel awkward, but honestly I’ve been through too much to care at this point. I can’t really hold my head up so I lean against his chest. He’s put on a new shirt since giving me his, and it feels warm, soft and strangely comforting. When he steps outside of the now bullet ridden house they’ve been keeping me in, my eyes start to sting as they try to adjust to daylight for the first time in weeks.

  Chapter 2

  Getting her home

  Chase

  ————————————

  Well that was a shock. We’ve succeeded in our mission to take out Sanchez, a key member of the Sangre cartel, possibly the biggest and most dangerous in Mexico, but no one expected a hostage. We’ve done recon for a few days on this place now and there were no signs. They’d never usually keep a hostage locked up like that either. It’s kill on the spot or, for young girls, sell to a trafficking ring. Not transport them all the way from America and keep them alive for weeks or possibly even moths judging by how thin she is. I use the term alive loosely. She’s fucking lucky to be alive after the violence she’s obviously been subjected too. It makes my blood boil.