Time Trap

by Danele J Rotharmel

  “You have ten seconds,” Drake snarled. “Give me the code, or I start having some real fun.”

  “Stop it!” Peter yelled. “Please, stop! I’ll give you what you want!”

  Realizing that Peter was at his breaking point, Laura managed to shout, “Be quiet! Don’t say another word!”

  Drake’s face filled with rage. He tried to punch her again, but Laura raised her arm and deflected his blow. With every bit of strength that she had, she drove her fist into his groin. Drake bellowed in pain. Quickly, she punched his throat. He choked and gagged. Locking his elbow with her hands, she rolled onto his arm and tossed him aside.

  “Way to go!” Peter shouted jubilantly as she regained her feet.

  Laura stumbled to the center of the room. Her breath was coming in heavy pants. Her muscles were quivering with exhaustion. She knew she was at the limit of her strength. Even as she drew another gasping breath, Drake lunged toward her. She tried to pivot out of reach, but he grabbed her in a bear hug from behind. Laura drove the base of her skull against his throat. Kicking back with her foot, she made contact with his knee.

  “Viper!” he shouted, hurling her toward the wall.

  Laura tried to raise her hands to protect her face, but she wasn’t fast enough. Her forehead crashed against the cement. She fell to the floor. In a blur of pain, she felt Drake grabbing her by the hair and dragging her to Peter.

  “I want that code,” Drake snarled, “or I’m taking your girlfriend apart piece by piece.”

  Laura tried to regain her feet, but she couldn’t get the leverage. She clawed blindly at Drake’s hands but couldn’t get free.

  Picking her up by the neck, Drake slammed her body into the wall next to Peter. She hit with such force that the room began to spin. Blood streamed down her forehead as her eyes caught Peter’s. His expression was desperate.

  “Give me the code, Director, or I will kill her.”

  Laura could see Peter trying to kick Drake’s legs. Peter’s outstretched hand was just inches away. His fingers scrabbled fruitlessly against empty air as he tried to reach her. Blood flowed from his wrists and dripped down the wall.

  “Give me that code!” Drake spat, slamming her into the wall again.

  The painful blow stunned her. Her vision darkened.

  “Do it now,” Drake snarled, “or I’ll snap her neck!”

  Beside her, Peter flailed wildly. “Leave her alone!”

  Drake slammed Laura against the wall a third time. The pain was unimaginable. Her knees buckled. Drake held her up, twisting her neck brutally to one side. Laura could hear the mounting insanity in his voice as he purred, “Necks are so easy to snap.”

  “No!” Peter cried, his voice full of horror. “Please, no!”

  Drake twisted Laura’s head further to one side. Suddenly, she felt him licking her neck, running his tongue up her skin toward her mouth.

  “2-5-9-3-7-9-5-2-1-4! Drake! 2-5-9-3-7-9-5-2-1-4!”

  “Peter, no!” she gasped.

  “You have the code, now let her go!” Peter demanded.

  Drake laughed and began winding Laura’s long, red hair around her neck.

  “What are you doing?” Peter shouted. “I gave you the code!”

  Drake smiled. “She’s one of the leaders of TEMCO. She has to die. I only wish I had more time to play with her.”

  “You liar!” Peter thrashed violently, pulling at the cuffs on his wrists.

  Drake seized Laura’s neck in the crook of his elbow and tightened the hair around her throat. Suddenly, he began to chant in an eerie, singsong voice.

  That moment she was mine, mine, fair,

  Perfectly pure and good: I found

  A thing to do, and all her hair

  In one long string I wound

  Three times her little throat around,

  And strangled her

  Planting her feet, Laura hissed, “You’re quoting Browning? Really? Drake, I’m not Porphyria, and you’re not my lover!”

  Anger licked her veins. She felt a surge of energy fueled by her fury. Gathering her strength, she turned her body toward his hand and swiftly bent over. With the leverage she gained, she ducked under his elbow and slid out of his grip. Before he could react, she thrust the heel of her hand up against the bottom of his nose. Fresh blood began to gush. Quickly, she slammed her foot against his knee. As Drake stumbled to one side, Laura kicked him from behind, sending him crashing to the floor next to Peter.

  With lightning speed, Peter lunged. Wrapping his thighs around Drake’s neck, Peter locked his legs and squeezed. Drake thrashed, but Peter held on and tightened his grip. Drake began to gurgle and choke. Laura watched as his face became infused with blood and his eyes bulged. She saw Peter grinding his teeth and squeezing harder—his rage making him ruthless. Even after Drake stopped struggling, Peter kept his legs wrapped around his throat.

  “Stop!” Laura shouted, rushing to his side. “Peter, stop!”

  Shaking his head, Peter squeezed tighter.

  Laura looked at him in dismay. His attack on Drake had pulled his body into an awkward position. His cuffs were embedded in his mangled wrists, and a copious amount of blood was gushing around the socks.

  “Peter, stop! You’re not just killing him, you’re killing yourself! Please, stop!”

  Looking at her, Peter sagged against the wall. His breathing was labored and shattered. Slowly, he released the pressure on Drake’s neck.

  Dropping to her knees, Laura fumbled inside Drake’s shirt until she found the keys. Running to Peter’s wrists, she unlocked his cuffs. His hands fell limply to the floor—blood was pouring from them in a steady stream. Dropping the keys, Laura tightened the socks, but they were so soggy she doubted they were doing much good. She pulled off Drake’s shoes and tied his socks around Peter’s wrists.

  “You really need a doctor,” she muttered in a worried voice.

  “You’re one to talk.” Peter said, stroking her cheek with a gentle touch.

  “Do I look that bad?” she asked absently, concentrating on staunching his bleeding.

  “Love, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

  “I think you mean that as a compliment,” she said, tightening the socks’ knots, “but it sure doesn’t inspire confidence in my usual appearance.”

  Chuckling, Peter slowly unwound his legs from Drake’s throat.

  “Is he dead?” she asked timidly.

  He shook his head. “Out cold. I think it’ll be fitting for Spider to be locked away in his own trap for a while. We’ll go back to TEMCO and send reinforcements to take him into custody.”

  Ducking under Peter’s arm, she helped him to his feet. Looking at the bloody puddles, she began mentally calculating how much blood he’d lost. The answer was frightening.

  “You did awesome!” he said, turning in her arms and kissing her. “I think we can chalk up street fighting as another of your hidden talents. You were—”

  “Shh!” Laura said, grabbing the lantern and trying to support his weight. “I’ll let you tell me how much you admire my fighting skills once we get you to a doctor.”

  * * *

  After they’d worked for several hours, Nicole watched as Zeke disappeared in the direction of the river. A few minutes later, he came back with the jar of tea he’d been chilling in the water.

  “Care to wet your whistle?” he asked, offering her a glass.

  Nodding, she drank greedily. When her thirst was quenched, she sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty before.”

  “That’s not surprising.” He chuckled. “Hard labor can really make you parched.”

  Deciding that all his teasing deserved a bit of revenge, she dryly asked, “Are you saying that painting isn’t difficult work?”

  Zeke looked stunned. “Not at all. I only meant that logging was more physically demanding than wielding a paintbrush.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You’ve obviously never stood for hours, trying to
capture shadows on a wintery day. Believe me, my profession isn’t easy.”

  “I’m sorry,” he awkwardly replied. “I didn’t mean to be insulting.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said stiffly. Seeing his worried expression, she broke down into helpless giggles.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.” Her lips twitched. “My paintbrush never gave me blisters like the saw just did.”

  Zeke’s eyes widened. “You weren’t really mad? You minx! You just wanted to see me squirm.”

  “Sure I did. It was nice having the upper hand for once.”

  Giving her a Cheshire cat grin, Zeke quirked an eyebrow, put his hands on his hips, and flexed his pecs.

  Nicole blinked at the spectacular sight and choked on her tea. She grimaced—it wasn’t fair for a computer tech to look like that with his shirt off. Rolling her eyes, she silently acknowledged that she’d just lost the upper hand.

  “That’s enough work for today,” Zeke said with laughter in his voice. “How ’bout a swim?”

  Taking a gulp of tea to steady her nerves, she nodded. She felt like a soggy mess, and a cool dip definitely sounded good.

  Picking up his backpack, Zeke offered her a supporting hand as they made their way to the river. Nicole smiled in delight when she spotted an enchanting pool by a waterfall. The gentle cascade wasn’t as large as the one they’d seen yesterday, but it exuded charm.

  “Now you see why we want to get this area ready for Jess,” Zeke said. “It’s the ideal place to take an invalid swimming.”

  “It’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, climbing onto a rock. “She’s going to love it! I know I do.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, spreading out beach towels and stripping to his swimming trunks.

  Feeling slightly self-conscious, Nicole removed her sweaty clothes and adjusted her suit. Behind her, she heard Zeke catching his breath. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him giving her electric blue bikini a double-take. He looked slightly dazed.

  Realizing that she’d once again obtained the coveted “upper hand,” she smirked. “Cat got your tongue?”

  Nodding, Zeke wolf whistled. “You sure know how to throw a man off balance.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “Thus says the guy who had to take off his shirt to chop logs.”

  Laughing, Zeke took her hand. Together, they stepped into the refreshing forest pool.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  In the hospital waiting room, Alex told his father everything that had happened since Phoebe’s rescue, and then, taking a deep breath, he admitted, “Dad, my emotions have been all over the map. I feel so off balance that I hardly know which way’s up anymore.”

  “I felt the same way when I protected your mother from Rick,” his father said quietly. “Feeling off balance is normal considering the circumstances, especially if…” He hesitated. “Alex, how do you feel about Phoebe as a woman?”

  Alex bit his lip. “I want to help her. I’m proud of her progress…” His words trailed off. He looked at his father with vulnerable eyes. “I love her, but is that even possible? I hardly know her.”

  His father put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s very possible, but you need to guard your heart. Right now, Phoebe’s scared and you represent safety. When she finds her feet, she may decide she doesn’t need you.”

  Alex felt his stomach tighten. “She’s said she’ll always need me.”

  “It isn’t fair to expect a traumatized woman to stand by those words.”

  “You don’t think she could love me?” Alex asked in an edgy voice.

  “I didn’t say that,” his father replied, squeezing Alex’s shoulder. “But you need to give her time. Phoebe is in crisis mode, and she’s making fear-based decisions.”

  Alex shrugged off his father’s hand. “So I put my heart on hold?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, Dad—!”

  “Alex, if you love her, you’ll let her get to know you. You don’t need to rush things. She hasn’t recovered yet, and—”

  “She’s doing better every day. She’ll be fine soon.”

  His father shook his head. “Her recovery will take longer than you think. She not only needs to heal physically but also mentally and spiritually. You need to be patient and let her process what happened.”

  “She knows what happened,” Alex objected. “We even cried together.”

  “Horrible things were done to her—this won’t be a quick fix.” His father hesitated. “Has she been angry yet?”

  “I can’t imagine Phoebe angry.”

  “Can you imagine your mother angry?”

  Alex’s lips twitched. “She was angry when Angelina and I dyed the neighbor’s cat green.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Leaning forward, his father said seriously, “Several weeks after Rick attacked her, your mother got very angry. We were taking a walk, and her anger just seemed to sizzle right outta nowhere. Sue is the sweetest person I know, but for a while, she was a bearcat to be around.”

  Alex shook his head. “I can’t imagine that.”

  “I couldn’t either, but she had to come to grips with what happened, and dealing with her anger toward Rick was part of the process.” His father’s eyes filled with compassion. “Phoebe is bound to get angry, and her anger will probably boil over onto you. You’ll need to be prepared.”

  Alex ran an anxious hand through his hair. “So, what do I do?”

  “Given time, Phoebe will eventually recover, but the process will take a toll on you. If you truly love her, you’ll stand by her—even when she brings you pain. If you go through with this, you’ll need to be patient and strong.”

  “I’ll try to be. I promise I’ll do my best.”

  “I know.”

  Silence fell.

  “So what are your plans for the future?” his father asked.

  “People scare her—she needs peace and solitude. When she’s able to leave the hospital, I’ll take her to my cabin.”

  His father hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Alex stared at him in shock. “Dad, you know I won’t take advantage of the situation.”

  “I know, but gossips talk.”

  “You taught me that gossips can go hang when you’re doing God’s will.”

  “That’s true, but are you in the will of God?”

  “Absolutely,” Alex said firmly. “She needs my help.”

  “Then I’ll stand behind you.” His father shifted in his chair. “Your mother would like to come up later, if that’s okay. She wants a hug.”

  “Tell her I’ll look forward to it.” Alex leaned his head against the wall. “So, how’s Gil?”

  “Better every day. They’re talking about releasing her in the morning.”

  “That’s terrific!”

  “Danny’s over the moon. By the way, he was getting worried about your lack of communication, so your mother sent more flowers in your name.” His father chuckled. “I thought we should scribble something with our toes and pass it off as one of your paintings—that purple tennis racket by the green kid on the pogo stick was a hit.”

  “Pogo sticks and tennis rackets!” Alex laughed. “It happened to be a baby in a crib in honor of little Jay.” He rubbed his hands over the knees of his jeans. “So, how’s Angelina?”

  “The concert she gave in Paris was televised last night.” His father smiled. “She played wonderfully well, and she looked beautiful.”

  “Did she wear white? I told her to wear white in Paris. I think it makes her look her best.”

  “She did, and she looked like an angel.” His father sighed. “Your mom’s worried. She says Angelina’s too thin. I’m glad it’s almost time for her to come home.”

  “How’s the kiddo’s leg?” Alex asked in concern.

  “She was limping when she walked on stage, but not too badly. I think she’s fine.” His father grinned. “She went to the Eiffel Tower yesterday and had a marvelous time. She sai
d to tell you hello, and she wanted me to lecture you about not answering your phone.”

  Alex winced. “Can you make up an excuse for me when you talk to her again? And please give her my love.” He suddenly chuckled. “Also ask if I won our bet.”

  “What bet?” his father asked, giving Alex a stern look. “You’re not getting your sister into trouble, are you?”

  “Only a little bit. I dared her to do something in Paris, and I wanna know if she had the guts.”

  “I’ll be your message boy”—his father laughed—“but if your mom finds out, she’ll have your hide. Remember, she’s awfully good at ferreting out secrets, and she’s seeing you later tonight.”

  “I’ll remember.” Leaning forward, Alex gave his father a hug. “I’d better get back to Phoebe, but thanks for coming up.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Alex gave a boyish grin. “I’m out of breath and off balance, but I’m definitely okay.”

  “And you’ll take my advice?”

  He nodded. “I’ll give Phoebe time—she’s worth the wait.”

  * * *

  Laura heard the lock springing into place as she pulled the door of their former prison closed. Her newfound freedom was making her feel positively giddy. “I can’t believe we’re out!” she exclaimed.

  “It was your doing,” Peter said, squeezing her hand. “Spider didn’t know what hit him.”

  “It was both of us. We’d be in a mess if it wasn’t for your lightning thighs of iron.”

  “What about your fighting skills? That spinning hook kick was spectacular.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “Those self-defense moves you taught me sure came in handy. I’m glad you showed me how to break chokeholds, even though at the time, I was convinced you did it just to give me noogies.”

  “The noogies were just part of the package.” Leaning over, Peter kissed her forehead. “I love you, you know.”

  Laura gave a happy sigh—there was utter conviction in his voice. Savoring the moment, she murmured, “I love you back.” She snuggled in his arms for a few seconds before adding, “We need to keep moving. You need a doctor.”