Just then, her number flashed on his phone; it was nearly three in the morning. The only thing he could think of was that she’d taken time to think over his offer and maybe was ready to talk about it.
* * * *
The phone rang twice and then she heard his voice. It started out distant but instantly progressed to worried. “Trista? Is that you? What’s that noise?”
“Lucky, we need help.” She was sure of it now.
“Are you okay? Where are you?”
“The venue from tonight—” and then the phone fell from her hands as the last blow from the attacker’s bat smashed completely through the window, loaded with sharp glass fragments. She couldn’t scramble to pick the phone back up. She had to start fighting.
* * * *
The sound of her voice, panicked and pleading for help, power washed away all the non-sense he’d been blundering over. Instinct to protect her kicked in as he kept the phone to his ear. Faint shouts and other convoluted noises made their way through the cell’s receiver but he couldn’t get her to answer again. What in the world had Jaxon gotten her into?
* * * *
Where was Jaxon?
She hit the unlock button and with a heave, opened the door and slammed it into the intruder. He crumpled but recovered quickly as she rushed by. Immediately she was grabbed from behind and dragged, kicking and cursing, behind the car.
There on the ground lay her best friend. “Jaxon!” she screamed. Then her mouth could do nothing but hang open in horror and shock. The darkness couldn’t hide what they’d already done to his face.
Anger and fear spasmed throughout her body as she took in her surroundings. Two men held Jaxon down. Another two detained her. And one more watched them with a sadistic grin on his face.
If she could just muscle her way back to the passenger side of the car and scream loud enough, Lucky might hear her pleas if he was still on the phone. But another long look at the one who stood separate, watching her, and she was instantly lost to the evil swimming in his eyes. A voice whispered softly in her thoughts, “Come down to the creek, we’ll be safe there. Come on, Tris, he won’t find us there.”
* * * *
“Trista? Trista answer me! What happened? Are you okay? Dammit darlin’, please pick up the phone!” He had to get to her. Now.
Oh God, Lord, please take care of her until I find her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Trissy, shit, where’s Trissy? Pounding fear had nowhere to go but straight to his head as he ate and breathed dirt.
He hadn’t had a chance coming out of the car; his expectations that these were bad-mannered night guards or a couple punk kids had led him into blind chaos. After being kicked to the ground and then bashed in the temple, he’d had only seconds to gather his fighting wits. Luckily he’d tripped the first guy down to the ground with him and then it’d been an eye-gouging survivalistic brawl. Until a sharp-edged metal pole had split down the center of his spine, forcing him to stay on the ground as the attacker got up, kicking a patch of grass, dirt and roots into his face. He’d had steel-toed boots like these mashed into his body before but never with someone he loved depending on him to keep them safe. The cold metal pole was now jammed mercilessly at the back of his neck, forcing him to breathe deeper into the soil if he tried to move.
The numbers were not in his favor. He flashed to a thought of Trissy and hoped she’d done as he’d said and locked the doors. The two guys holding him captive shouted to another, some new degenerate joining them. Their words shot a new wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he heard their plans to get the girl out and bust the window if they had to.
He struggled with a new ton of dread as hard aluminum made loud, repeated contact with the car’s glass. He had almost managed to buck the one prick off his back when he heard the pop of Stefan’s old electronic locks, just after having heard Trissy’s curse tunneling through more clearly now that the window had finally been busted open. A guttural voice called out the words “fucking whore” but Trissy’s silence was what terrified him.
Fuck. They had her now, too.
He twisted to get a look at her, to see if they’d hurt her but the pole mashed his skull down. Another asshole walked into the picture. His boots laced up and his black pants bloused out from their tops, he bent down on a knee just to the side of Jaxon’s face and fisted a hand into the top of his hair then pulled up. He saw her now.
“Take a good look now. She ain’t gonna look so hot when you’re done with her.”
These fuck-ups were toying with the wrong guy. He did his best to stare the obvious leader down.
“Go to hell, no one’s touching her. You hear me? I’ll rip that sneer off your face first.” He spat dirt and blood as far as he could.
“Oh, no way in hell I’m touching your skank. You must not have heard me right; I said when you’re done with her.”
He’d seen crack head mom’s make their way through the roadies with their dead-eye stares but this guy’s pupils were alive and flirting with evil. What kind of sadistic fuck was he dealing with? He needed to see Trissy. He focused on turning his head, still under the pressures of the metal pole and the steel-toed boot that inched along his spine, when the leader issued a new command. His heart hiccupped.
“Tab, J.D., go put her on the hood. Wade and Fox, take him up to the front. Let’s get this shit going. Fuckin’ loser freaks, you ain’t gonna forget this night anytime soon.”
The next thing he knew he was being hauled up in a headlock by one of his attackers. Fox, he could see clearly inked in a tattoo running down the inside of the douchebag’s forearm. He kicked at the other—Wade he’d been called. But even though he’d heaved his foot at Wade’s kneecap, the bastard had been able to withstand the force of his heel.
And all it earned him was a punch in the face.
He spit out more blood pooling in his mouth. While Fox kept his upper half firmly under lock, Wade delivered an elbow straight to his gut. He was about to knock into him again when their leader barked out to bring him the fuck over there so they could get started.
Trissy hadn’t cried out or cursed them again. Maybe they hadn’t hurt her. If these pricks knew what was good for them…It was a lame argument since he was pinned at their mercy right now. Whatever the plans for Trissy, if they truly were to be at the mercy of his own hands, he could only see it as some sick blessing. He would protect her and play along until he could find some way to get them out of this.
* * * *
She was sprawled out on the hood of Stefan’s car, shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Her back arched upward, away from the stinging metal. But she was forcefully planted back down, several times. The Saab’s body wasn’t long and her legs hung over the nose. Where was everyone? Her focus slipped again and she’d cry to be able to cover her eyes but two faceless monsters pinned her arms and legs. Their hands were strong but maybe not stronger than her legs. She loathed the feel of their fingers digging into the muscles and flesh of her thighs, their grips so tight her wrists felt cold on the inside. If she kicked her hardest, she could get loose and run away but that would mean leaving Jaxon and she knew these bastards were out to play some evil game. They would hurt him worse; she recognized that in their dark eyes. Not knowing what they wanted was terrifying.
Jaxon was pulled over to just a couple feet away from her place on the hood, being held by his neck and arms. The look in his eyes told her he’d kill someone with his bare hands right now if one should slip free.
The leader strode over and stopped. He sneered but remained silent. Her fear for their lives erupted just then, and every muscle in her body tensed. This was all her fault.
* * * *
Jaxon looked to Trissy, trying to get a read on her. He could barely see from his left eye it was so swollen. Squinting, he looked again, with more concern. She’d been hit. Her cheekbone was deep red. His anger infuriated, he turned his head to the left and spit at the leader.
&nbs
p; The young punk sprang into his face, falling short by less than an inch of hitting him. “That was very, very stupid of you, freak.” Without looking away, he barked at Fox and Wade what to do next. “Make sure that dress is high and those legs are wide boys. Here he comes.” He then turned and walked over to retrieve something from the ground.
Fuck, man, come on think. Think dammit! He strained for a closer look at Trissy. She wasn’t doing well. Blinking like she’d lost her grip on reality, he worried she might pass out. And these bastards were crazy; he’d kill them all with his bare hands before he touched Trissy like that.
It was time.
He started flailing anything he could—hips, ankles, elbows. His head butted back against Fox’s, just missing contact. But suddenly, he was stopped cold by a voice.
Trissy’s.
“Jaxon, please.”
He looked up to see the leader lingering just a foot to Trissy’s right holding a long, black barrel in his disgusting hands. The wood of the stock rested at his shoulder. Trissy’s jaw jacked up and down so hard he was sure her tongue must be bleeding. She was losing it. He knew they would have to play along now. Deploring sadness squeezed him like a strait jacket.
“Sam, do I let him go yet?”
The leader walked up to Fox, ignoring the question and spoke directly to him, the hunting rifle still solidly in his grip. “I think the rules of our game are pretty clear.” He grabbed his black t-shirt in a fist and brought the mangled fabric and his knuckles up to just below his chin. “Now you go on over there and you…”
He clenched his jaw so tightly the bones could have snapped.
Something made the bastard leader shut his face for a second. “Interestin’. You look like the thought of takin’ her disgusts you. Hmm. Most men don’t take a bitch out in an empty lot if they ain’t plannin’ on hittin’ it. That was your plan, right? I mean, shit, I’d never touch her but she looks just right for you, freak.”
He was seconds away from exploding at the crack comments but he held his tongue and his fury for fear of getting Trissy hurt more than she already was. And, if he got himself knocked unconscious, she’d be out here all alone. He looked to Trissy where she lay, legs spread and her dress hiked up all the way to her armpits. They hadn’t removed her bra and underwear. She was even more gone now; her mind had to be jack hammering.
“Oh shit, you ain’t one of them homosexuals, are you?” The five criminals laughed and then shut it as Sam spoke again. “Well, for her sake, you’d better get over it. ‘Cause if I don’t get a good show, I might just have to step in and take over for ya. Now I don’t want to do that. You freaks do disgust me. Fox, let him go.”
“You sure, Sam?”
“Yeah, he ain’t about to get him and his whore shot over a little show.”
Fox released the hold around Jaxon’s neck and Sam stepped behind and shoved him toward Trissy.
“Come on now. We ain’t got all night. Go on and get her, freak.”
He ignored the assholes chanting behind him. He knew there was no way he’d be able to do what they demanded. He loved her and could never hurt her like this. But if he didn’t do it, then Sam would. They’d probably take turns at her. Bile rose in his throat as he choked. He leaned over Trissy’s outstretched body, trying to shield her exposed skin.
He whispered to her. “Trissy baby, God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to get us out of this. I can’t hurt you. I don’t know…”
“Jaxon, you have to. They’ll rape me and probably shoot us if you don’t.” He was shocked she could still think and speak. Her jaw trembled under the protection of his palm. “Just do it and get it over with and maybe they’ll leave us alone.” The look on her face forgave him for what he had to do.
“Come on, now!” J.D. hollered.
“Now wait, J.D., give him a minute. A little kissin’ might be what the faggot needs to get his pecker goin’.” Sam’s disgusting tribute to his painstakingly slow approach silenced J.D.
Touching his forehead and nose to Trissy’s, he whispered over and over how sorry he was. As his body hung over hers, he closed his eyes and tried to picture them someplace else. Maybe a time and a life where they might have ended up lovers. But all he could see was the kindness, loyalty and sacrifice she’d shelled out for him over the years. She was a beautiful girl, soft skin, curls in her honey blonde hair that fell in pieces down the sides of her face. Eyes that made the truth flow out of his soul whenever she locked them in on him. He tried to think of her as one of his conquests. He needed more. His mind wouldn’t be deceived with just these thoughts.
He leaned down to press his lips to hers. Shared fears kept their eyes open. He deepened his kiss. Her lips went tight, jerking him out of the mood he was trying desperately to contrive. “Shhh, it’ll be over soon,” he promised her blindly. He had both hands now at the sides of her face in an attempt to block her peripheral view. A drop of his blood fell, leaving her cheek stained. She took in a shallow breath and let it back out. He tried the kiss again. Meanwhile, their audience slammed at his silent shield with disgusting insults.
“This is taking too long, Sam. He doesn’t even have her panties off yet. He’s dicking around, I’m tellin’ you.”
This time, Sam didn’t warn J.D. for his impatience. Coming from just a couple feet behind him, slime coated Sam’s words. “You look like you need some help, freak.” With the rifle now aimed at his head, Sam ordered Trissy’s panties to be removed. J.D. gave him a sneer and then took out a pocket knife, cutting into the silk band that rested on her hip. He then ripped his knife through the other side, stealing the fabric out from under her backside and tucking her torn underwear into his shirt pocket. “All right then, you have exactly five minutes.”
He tried to expel the threat from his mind. But it really was now or never. He had to somehow get himself hard and get this done. He’d spend the rest of eternity apologizing and making it up to her. He closed his eyes and pictured Vangie splayed out beneath him. He felt the pain inside him that she stroked with her vengeance, the thing she called love that he knew was far from it. He undid his zipper and tried to conjure up the filthy dark part of him that had played with countless girls after shows backstage.
He buried his head in the thin lace strap that fell between her breasts, silently begging for forgiveness as her chest heaved slowly up and down. He thanked the heavens she hadn’t passed out yet.
“Jaxon, what can I do?”
Nothing, he didn’t want her to do anything. He would bare this burden for them both but her words yanked him back out of the dark hole he had to crawl in to for this to work. Her touch would only serve to remind him of what he was about to do.
“Just close your eyes and go someplace safe, baby girl.” After he watched her eyes close, he again went to the thoughts of all the women he’d screwed over the years. The sexy, slutty ones who’d thrown themselves at him. The naïve, innocent ones he’d lured in, if only to figure out how far they would actually go in their dares.
He couldn’t get hard.
Not like this, not with Trissy.
He was gonna fail her. He covered her body with his in a last ditch effort to seal her from the approaching stomp of Sam and his leaches. She lay still, silent.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Trista’s mind stumbled, searching for a safer time and place…
“Mama, how come Lily and Jack don’t have to cook or clean? It’s always me. Do you love them more? ‘Cause they’re daddy’s and I’m not?”
“Trista Jeane, that is enough of that crazy talk. You know I don’t love any of you kids more or less; I love you all the same. I need your help because you’re a big girl and they’re too little yet. Besides, I like spending this time with you. Don’t you, honey?” She saw herself as a young girl, holding up the edge of a lemon-colored corner of fabric, helping feed it to her mother at the sewing machine.
“Yes, Momma. I do. This is gonna be a real pretty dress. Yellow’s my favorite.”
/>
Concentrating on the warmth she remembered of the moment, she could almost feel her momma patting the top of her tangled golden curls.
“I know, baby, now be careful, I don’t want you gettin’ your finger threaded in there.”
“Yes, Momma.”
“I love you, baby girl.”
Her mom paused from guiding the hem through the machine. Young Trista beamed proudly at the encouraging glance from Momma that she could take over. Her mother’s rosy cheeks and curly hair reminded her of what she had hoped to be when she grew up and became a lady.
“I love you too, Momma.”
. . .
“Trista, is Momma gonna be okay? She looked real scared. Why can’t we ride with her? I wanna ride with her and hold her hand.”
Her little half-sister, Lily, sat close to her side in the back of their family’s station wagon.
“Lily, hold my hand, okay? Is that better? All right. Momma’s going to the hospital and the doctors are gonna take care of her. We’ll see her after they make her better. Daddy’s driving right behind the ambulance, see? Jack, hold Lily’s other hand please.”
The two half-siblings had been a wonderful part of her childhood, until Momma had died.
. . .
“Daddy? Daddy? Why can’t I come? I don’t want to sleep alone. It’s scary without Trista in here.”
After her mom’s death, her safe place vanished. She didn’t want these thoughts that came to her now.
“Hush, buttercup. You go back to sleep. Trista will be back, she just has to do some chores. Okay? You know your momma is an angel up in heaven, always watching over you. There’s nothing to be afraid of here in your room. Now back to sleep.” The voice lied.
She tried desperately to force her mind away from this place. But she couldn’t.
“Okay, Daddy. I love you. Tell Trista I said good night please.”
Sidewalk Flower Page 25
