by Kahlen Aymes
She was startled when the door slammed and the engine roared to life, though she felt like her eyes were glued shut. The heat was soon filling the space, and she’d just stopped shivering when Jillian began to wail.
“Fuck!” a strange voice cursed. Angel’s eyes snapped open, and she sat up, her hand flying to Jillian in the car seat. Her eyes flew to the front seat. Becca wasn’t in the passenger seat, and it wasn’t Cole driving. Her heart stopped and plummeted to the pit of her stomach.
The man was big and burly, and Angel recognized him as someone who lived in her building. Her skin started to burn. This was bad. He didn’t have a mask on which meant he didn’t care that she could ID him. She wasn’t going to live through this. And here was Jillian beside here. Somehow, she’d have to save the baby. Her heart had resumed its beating, but it was racing and threatening to fly from her body.
“Anga!” the little girl cried. “Anga! Where’s iz Mama? We yeft Mama!”
The man glanced back over his shoulder and menacing eyes met Angel’s. “Shut that kid up if you know what’s good for you.”
Angel swallowed and caressed Jillian’s head. “Baby, it will be okay. Angel is with you.”
The SUV was racing and took a right turn down a dirt road lined with evergreen trees. The man was reckless, and the vehicle swerving. Surely, Cole would alert the police, and they’d put out an APB on the vehicle.
“Why are you doing this?”
The man laughed harshly. “Don’t play dumb.”
“I’m not an idiot, but why take her, too?”
“Shut up!” He mumbled something under his breath and made another turn, this time to the left. Angel was scared, but she had to keep her wits about her. Their best chance meant she’d have to remember as much of the route as possible, though she didn’t know how she was going to manage it. Her mind was racing. She reached down and slid her Vans back on. Not the ideal shoes for walking in this weather, but it was all she had. She pulled on the hoodie and zipped it up, reaching behind the seat for her coat and Jillian’s.
The rocking and jumping of the vehicle as it took bumps too quickly and made careless turns dictated she couldn’t take Jillian out of the seat. Though, it would be easier to jump out of the vehicle with Jillian in her arms, on the off chance it slowed or stopped, she couldn’t risk her safety.
“Bean, Angel will take care of you, okay?” She said softly. “Can you stop crying for me, sweetheart?” she asked softly. She stroked her head over and over, wiping at the tears on Jillian’s cheeks with gentle fingers.
She drew in a shaky breath, her mind racing. She bent and picked up Jillian’s shoes from the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. They had Velcro closures so Angel had them on in less than thirty seconds.
Jillian was still crying, despite Angel’s efforts.
“I said, shut that brat up!” the man yelled.
“She’s three years old, asshole,” Angel retorted. She sized him up. He was easily twice her size, but he was overweight and probably clumsy as fuck. It wouldn’t be easy, maybe it would be impossible, given Jillian would be involved. Angel wanted to distract him. “Swanson isn’t man enough to do the dirty work, huh? You’re an idiot to take the fall for him.”
“Shut up, bitch! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
He turned again, this time right, and off the road onto a worn dirt path. Two tire tracks were worn into the grass between close groves of trees on both sides. Angel’s eyes flashed around. Thankfully, the sun was just starting to come up and turn the sky a light purple, so it wasn’t pitch black. She’d have no chance of finding her way out of the maze of trees and back to the main road if she could see nothing.
“When Swanson lets you take the fall for him, you’ll go to prison for the rest of your life, you know. That will be fun,” she goaded. She’d have a better chance if he were distracted.
He raised his arm and slammed it down on the console. Angel and Jillian both jumped at the loud bang; Jillian’s face crumpled, and she started to sob. “I said, shut up, you stupid whore! Do you think you’ll get out of this?”
The car was slowing down, so Angel decided she needed to make a plan. She had to try to fight him right when they got out. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t get Jillian out and carry her at a run. He would quickly overtake her. Her mind raced. The guy was a moron. He hadn’t tied her hands, and if it weren’t for Jillian in the car, she would have gouged his eyes out by now. So what could she do short of that?
The solution came to her, and she was pissed at herself for not thinking about it minutes earlier. I’ll text Alex. She’d turn the sound to silent and then the man driving wouldn’t hear when he responded. She reached for her purse but it wasn’t on the seat next to her. Panic began to well-up inside her chest. Her eyes darted down to the floor, but it wasn’t there. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around begin rummaging behind her.
“Looking for this?” The man held her purse up from the front seat. “Yeah, I’m not brain dead.”
“Could have fooled me.” She was pissed, but she wasn’t stupid. She was terrified, and it wasn’t likely she’d be getting out of this alive, but if she were going to die, she’d go down fighting. After she made sure Jillian was safe. Maybe they were unaware of Jillian’s presence in the car. Maybe she was a complication they didn’t plan on.
“You and I are going to have some fun. I’m going to enjoy making you suffer.”
“Do you really want the blood a three year old on your hands?”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, do you?” Angel’s voice took on a dead tone. “She’s just a baby.”
“Who cares? Not my problem.”
She closed her eyes. She could play calm, but she wasn’t calm; adrenaline shot through her veins and made her blood thunder in her head. She had to get him off-guard.
“Okay. We can have fun, if you’ll make sure she gets safely back to her mother.”
“We aren’t in negotiations, lady,” he spat. He was grotesque. Fat, slimy, and nasty. She could smell the sour stench of his sweat from where she sat. Angel scooted closer to Jillian and put her arm around the back of the car seat. “Hush, honey.” Angel took Jillian’s hand and kissed her on the head. This time, it was shampoo and baby powder in her nostrils. “It’s going to be okay, Bean. I promise, okay?” she said softly in as soothing a tone as she could manage. “We have to hush so the man is nicer. Okay?”
Jillian’s wide blue eyes locked with Angel’s. She nodded and sucked in a hiccupping breath. “Kay.”
“Good girl.” Angel stroked her cheek and kissed her head again.
They were going over some decidedly bumpier terrain, and the SUV was rocking back and forth as they took the bumps, albeit at a crawl. This would have been her best chance of jumping out and making a run for it, if she didn’t have Jillian.
The car slowed, and Angel craned her neck around the front bucket seat that was blocking her view, to see out of the front window. An old, light blue Cadillac was waiting in a small clearing off to one side of the path. Mark Swanson and one other younger man, who was maybe twenty, were dressed in hunting garb and leaning against it nonchalantly, but they stood away from it as the SUV came to a stop.
Angel drew in a shaky breath. This wasn’t good. It was as bad as it could be. There would be no way she could run and no way she could fight all three of them at once. She’d have to try to reason with them. Swanson wasn’t after Jillian; he was after her.
The man driving hopped out, and came around to open her door, and yanked Angel out roughly. Her coat and Jillian’s fell on the ground by the car as Jillian began to scream again.
“What the fuck is that kid doing here?” Swanson demanded. “Are you a fucking moron?”
The man stammered, trying to make excuses. “I didn’t see her in the car, boss.”
“You didn’t see her? You ignorant motherfucker! Get her in the car! Leave the kid here.”
&nb
sp; He nodded to the Cadillac, and the big man, who still had a firm grip on her upper arm, began to shove her toward the car. Pain shot through her arm, but the panic closing her lungs down hurt more.
“Please, you can’t! It’s cold and she won’t be found!” Tears burned in Angel’s eyes as she pleaded. “Please! She’s just a baby.”
Mark Swanson paused a brief moment. “I said, get her in the car!” he barked, and the man resumed shoving Angel into the open door. She started to struggle, trying to pull away, swinging her fist and landing a blow to the side of his face. Her hand exploded in pain. She was released instantly, only to be backhanded with such force she went sprawling on the ground.
“I’m going to enjoy this, gorgeous. More than I thought,” Swanson sneered.
“Please don’t hurt her.” She was panting and out of breath, silent tears tumbled down her face as she realized the futility of the situation as she crawled up to her hands and knees. “I’ll do whatever you want, and Alex will pay more for her. I’ll talk to him.” Her heart was aching. She wouldn’t give up on the hope that Alex or Cole would find her, but she needed to talk to him. To hear his voice one more time, in case she didn’t make it through this ordeal alive.
Mark Swanson’s eyes narrowed momentarily as he regarded Angel’s defeated posture. He wasn’t sure if this would be as fun if she wasn’t fighting, but the idea of more cash was intriguing him more than her suffering, though they were running neck and neck.
“Get the kid.”
Angel was filled relief. “Thank you.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s free and clear. Depends how nice to me you are.”
Hate welled-up, and saturated every single cell in her body. She vowed she would kill him or die trying, after she made sure Jillian was safe.
The younger man went to the car and roughly unbuckled Jillian and pulled her out. The sound of the toddler screaming at the top of her lungs filled the silence and felt like an echo. Angel got to her feet. Jillian was reaching for her as the boy walked forward with her in his arms. Angel stepped forward, and instantly, Jillian was clinging; legs wrapped around her waist, her little arms tight around her neck. She was sobbing into Angel. Angel hugged Jillian tight.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Angel’s got you.” She kissed her temple, her eyes glaring at Mark Swanson over the top of her head.
“Careful, sweet pea. Be nice.” He nodded to the car, and Angel got in, still holding Jillian. “Blindfold her.”
“Can I have her coat?” Angel asked, and the big, goony man who kidnapped them picked it up and flung it inside the car before slamming the door. Jillian wouldn’t let go of Angel long enough to put the coat on, so Angel wrapped it around her as best she could.
Angel let out her breath, as Jillian’s little body shook in terror, when the younger kid got in the back seat next to them.
“Should I tie her hands, too?”
“Angel will be good, won’t you, gorgeous?”
Angel nodded and let the kid put a blue bandana around her head, covering her eyes and tying it in the back. Jillian didn’t stop crying.
“Anga!”
Angel’s arm tightened. “It’s okay, Bean. Shhhh. Just shhh. Okay?”
*****
The trip in the car was maybe two hours. Jillian had cried herself to sleep in Angel’s arms. She was getting stiff, her rear end falling asleep. The men in the car were silent except for taunting jibes about how they were going to make Alex pay in multiple ways. When they started talking nasty to Angel, Mark Swanson berated them.
“No one touches her until I say. Until I’m done with her, understand?”
Angel’s panic began again. Death would be better than being gang raped by these dirty bastards. Even if it meant never seeing Alex again, she’d rather that, than have to live with seeing pity in his eyes when he looked at her.
Her education told her that women learned to live with rape and domestic violence through counseling and went on to live fulfilling lives, but she was quickly learning that while it sounded practical in theory, it might not be that easy in practice. She had never been so grateful that the first time, in college, she was blissfully unconscious. She was certain Mark Swanson would be merciless and extract his revenge slowly and thoroughly.
And what would Alex do? He’d go crazy. Whether he found her before she was killed, or if she was hurt, even a little, he’d literally lose his mind. She was certain someone would die. She couldn’t bear it if it were Alex. No matter the cost to herself, Mark Swanson’s death would be a welcome consequence, but there were three of these sons of bitches, and she didn’t want to buy her life with his.
When the car stopped, the men got out, and Angel waited inside. She was still as a stone, numb. Maybe she was resigned or maybe she was determined, but either way, she was stoic. Mark Swanson might try to humiliate her, he might rape and abuse her, but she’d never give that sadistic fucker the satisfaction of groveling or begging for mercy. He could go fuck himself. She knew even if she were to do that, it wouldn’t matter anyway, so there was no way was she would beg. Her jaw jutted out and her teeth clenched, and suddenly, the door was yanked open.
Jillian was startled in her arms and jerked. Soon, her arm was taken in a vice-like grip, and she was pulled, stumbling from the car. Her arms were firmly around Jillian, but her legs were asleep from so long without moving, and the blindfold was still in place.
“This way,” Mark Swanson’s slimy voice rasped in her ear, and a shiver ran through her when she realized he was the one who had her in his grasp. “You smell sexy.”
“Fuck off.”
“Careful. I still have the kid. I think she might come in handy after all.”
He was guiding her, and she willed her legs to move forward without being able to see. Her steps were hesitant, and her resolve growing more and more with each one. This bastard wasn’t going to break her.
“You really are a slimy fucker. Don’t you have any bit of remorse for the shit you do to people?”
He chuckled.
“Kill me if you want, but leave her alone. She’s innocent.”
“Don’t tempt me, Angel. But then again, tempting me is something you’re quite good at.”
Angel’s stomach lurched.
A door opened. She heard the squeak of the door and the creak of the wood beneath her feet. The house smelled musty, so it would be old. The time it took to walk from the car to the house and the stench of manure would indicate it was a farm. They must be close to the western edge of the Ozarks, or there wouldn’t be this much land used for pasture. The degree of stench lent to the theory that a feedlot was very close, if not on site. The mooing from cattle was distant but not miles away. She catalogued all of these little facts so, if she had a chance, she could give Alex clues to her location.
Inside, she was taken to a staircase. “Stairs, going down.”
“How many? I don’t want to stumble and drop Jillian.”
He pulled off her blindfold so she could see then pushed her in front of him. It was dark, the stairs rotting wood, and the basement looked to be unfinished. There was one light bulb hanging from the ceiling in a loose socket and a cot sitting in the middle of the room. There was a drain in the middle of the floor, and from what she could see, there was a leak of some sort near the far wall. The mold in the air was unhealthy, she could smell it. There was an unenclosed toilet near the water trail that ran from the leak in the ceiling and trailed off toward the drain. It was probably from the bathroom upstairs and rampant with bacteria. The entire place was a cesspool. The small half-windows near the top of the walls on all four sides were painted over with black paint. Obviously, this place served a similar purpose in the past.
Jillian was awake and looking around, but still clutching to Angel for dear life. Angel quelled the sarcastic retort she wanted to make. She had to think of Jillian.
“What happens now?” Angel asked. Her arms were starting to shake, having held Jillian for more than
two hours, but she wouldn’t attempt to set the little one down until the men left the room.
The young man handed Angel’s purse to Swanson. They’d been careful not to call each other by name, so Angel had no clue who they were. She felt agitated and threatened when he began rummaging through her purse, pulling out both of her phones.
“Should I call Alex?” Angel was desperate to get her hands on her phone, not even knowing what she’d be able to do with it when they all watched.
“Why two phones?” Swanson inquired.
Angel sighed. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want him to call Alex, on that phone, she didn’t want him to take it from her.
“The iPhone.” She had no choice. She needed Alex to know where she was.
“Put the girl down and take off your clothes to your underwear.” Mark Swanson leered at her, his top lip curling slightly as he reveled in her discomfort.
“I can’t.” Angel frantically tried to finagle a way to keep her clothes on. Fear of Swanson’s true intentions aside, she’d be worthless getting Jillian out if she didn’t have her clothes. “I mean, it’s not a good time for me. I’m on my period, and I haven’t been able to clean up in hours. Please, not in front of Jillian.” Her voice became pleading. “If you’re trying to torture him, trust me… he’ll be tortured, clothes or not.” Angel felt a sadness that went beyond fear. Alex would be so devastated. “Just knowing you have me will kill him.”
Swanson considered for a moment. Angel set Jillian on the cot then sat next to her, putting her arm around her as Jillian huddled close.
Mark held up the iPhone. “What’s the password?”
“Twelve Ten.” It was Alex’s birthday, though she didn’t let that out.
Swanson opened the phone. He nodded toward the bed. “Get the kid.”
The bigger man came forward and snatched Jillian off the cot amidst a new set of cries.
“Take her upstairs,” Swanson barked at the man, who was staring at Angel, waiting with wide eyes to see if she would be made to strip. “Take off your clothes.” He stood there, almost licking his lips. “Take them off!” he hollered sharply, causing Angel to balk.
