by J. D. Mason
Right Down to the Bone
“SINCE WHEN HAVE YOU BEEN so excited about taking a life, man?”
James wasn’t excited about murder, but hell! They’d come too far with this shit. The moment James agreed to kidnap that woman he started mentally preparing himself for this moment. People who do shit like this, who plan it, who pay for it—they have to know that you don’t half-ass cross the line. And ultimately, DJ’s naïve ass was even more useless than Naomi.
James drove angry, because the shit was real now. He was pissed that, just like he suspected from the beginning, doing this would fall on him, because neither one of their dumb asses had the balls to do it. But it came down to prison or the money. James had done more time in prison than he cared to think about, and he wasn’t going back. The mothafuckin’ cops would have to kill his ass before he set foot in the joint again. He was about to get his hands on more money than he’d ever seen in his life, and she was the only thing standing in his way. So, yes! James would pull the mothafuckin’ trigger on all this mess and keep it moving.
Nobody would find her back here in these sticks, and if they ever did, it’d be too late and James would be long gone. His first thought was to burn the place down, but fire makes smoke and smoke brings the fire department. He could just leave her there in that room. Nobody ever went that far back into them woods anymore, but he couldn’t risk her smart little ass finding a way to get out.
James pulled up to that old run-down building, turned off the engine, and took a deep breath. What he was about to do, what he had to do, was something he’d never be able to take back.
Beating on people was one thing, but actually taking somebody out was another thing altogether. It dawned on him in that moment that the only weapons he had were his hands. Since the moment they’d plucked her out of her bed, James could barely keep his hands off of her. Now, the thought made him sick to his stomach.
It seemed to take him forever to get out of the car and go inside that old restaurant. James stood at the door for several moments before finally unlocking it and stepping inside and letting it close behind him. He didn’t need his mask anymore.
She stood up and backed into the corner of the room, staring at him with those pretty eyes of hers.
“Please—don’t,” she begged, shaking her head and trembling.
Did she know? Looking at her, he could tell. She knew
“Do you remember me now?” he asked, shrugging.
He had no idea why it even mattered if she remembered him, but it did.
Abby slowly shook her head. “I … I don’t.”
Of course she didn’t. A woman like her would never give a man like him a second glance.
“You helped me to unload some lumber once,” he reminded her taking a step toward her. “I thought you was so fine. And your little ass was strong, too. You could carry almost as much as I could.”
He waited for recognition to spark in her eyes, but it never did. James would strangle her. He would choke life right out of her, because he wanted to stare into her pretty face when she died.
“I got no choice, Abby,” he said, rushing over to her.
“Nooo!” she yelled, but his hands were around her neck, squeezing, cutting her cries short.
She fought him. He’d have been disappointed if she hadn’t. Abby punched and kicked and scratched as he slowly lowered her to the floor on her back. He squeezed, harder, the longer he held on. James pressed his fingers deep into the muscles of her neck as his hands cramped like a vise, fueled by adrenaline, and fear of getting locked up again, and his desperate need to get as far away from this place, from her, as possible.
Abby gagged, gasped, her eyes bulging and locking on to his. James cried, releasing unexpected and powerful emotions surging through him, turning him into a man he never really knew he was capable of being. He felt like he had left his body and stood across the room, watching this scene unfold in front of him in disbelief, excitement, and fear.
Abby’s arms fell limp against the floor and he could almost see the light of life leaving her eyes. His heart beat so hard and fast in his chest that it scared him. Stop! James wanted to, but couldn’t. Too much was wrong about this, but the longer he held on, the more right he felt. If he could do this, then he could do anything. He was a fuckin’ beast! James was a gotdamn gangsta!
“Fuck!” he suddenly yelled out in agony. Piercing hot and sharp pain shot through his head—his face! “What the fffffff—”
James rolled off of her, raised his hand to his face, and felt—“Oh shit! Oh shit! Shit!” he gasped. What the fuck had she stuck him with? What the fuck was in his eye?
In a jerk reaction, and without thinking, he pulled on it. “Aaaaaaaaaah!” he yelled.
He couldn’t take it out. Not without taking the eyeball out of the socket. James rolled on the floor, kicking the wall, crying out. What the fuck had she done to him? He had no idea how long he’d writhed around on that floor before he realized that Abby was gone. James managed to open his other eye and saw that the door was wide open.
“No,” he muttered, stumbling to his feet, pushing through the pain searing through his head. Fuck no! “Bitch!” he yelled, shuffling toward the door.
Don’t Care Where They Kick
THE CAR PARKED OUTSIDE WAS HIS.
Was the door open? Could the keys be inside?
Abby glanced inside quickly. Run, Abby! Just run!
She could hear him screaming as she ran out to the road and hesitated.
“Which way?” she asked, breathless, looking back and forth in both directions.
It didn’t matter. Abby turned left and started to run again, hard gravel digging into the tender soles of her feet.
“Bitch!” She heard him call out her name.
She wasn’t fast—Abby couldn’t run fast enough.
In the distance up ahead, she saw a car coming toward her.
“No,” she murmured, stopping. Coming toward her.
They’d caught her before, but no. No, not this time. Abby turned abruptly and cut into grass as tall as she was, leading into the woods. She ducked down and waited for the car to pass.
“Where the fuck you think you gonna go? Ain’t no gotdamn where to go out here!” he called out again.
She put her hand over her mouth and held her breath. He was too close. The sounds of footsteps. Moving away from her? Coming toward her? She didn’t know.
Be still, she commanded herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment and willing her body steady.
Abby couldn’t risk the road. She had to find another way. Quietly, she began to back up through the grass to the grove of trees behind her and then started to run. She stumbled. Her lungs burned. Her legs were so weak. Jesus! Help her! Abby started running up a hill and somehow managed to get to the top and collapsed. Get up, Abby! Get the hell up!
Out of breath, Abby struggled to get to her feet, but as soon as she did, they were out from under her again.
“James!”
A man called out from a distance.
“James!” a woman yelled.
“The fuck you think you going?” The man chasing her growled.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him, her weapon still lodged in his eye.
“Noooo!” she screamed, clawing at the ground as he pulled her back toward him. “Let me fucking go!”
He crawled up the length of her, flipped her over onto her back, grabbed her head, and slammed it hard into the ground. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
Abby tried to scream.
“Shut up!” he demanded, hitting her hard across the face with his fist. “Shut the fuck up!”
Dazed, she felt his hands around her throat again, choking her. Abby clawed at his hands, and then, without thinking, shoved the heel of her hand hard against the piece of plastic stuck in his eye
He reared back, screaming and clutching his head, and then fell off of her.
Abby rolled over onto her stomach, crawled ba
ck up to the top of the hill, pushed herself up to standing, and started to run, but fell and ended up tumbling down the other side.
The sound of his heavy groaning and breathing behind her warned her that he was close again. Abby’s throat burned. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her legs felt like lead weights.
Again, she tripped, then rolled, and didn’t manage to get to her feet again until she made it to the bottom of the hill. For some reason she turned to look over her shoulder to see how close he was and then, suddenly, she ran right into a brick wall, hitting it so hard that it knocked her back onto the ground.
Abby started kicking and sliding back away from him. It was the other one! He’d found her.
“Stop,” he said, reaching for her.
Abby cried out, “Oh, God! No!”
Get up, Abby! Run!
“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s me, Abby!”
She looked up at him. Jordan?
He squatted in front of her and held out his hand. “It’s all right.”
Looking for My Soul
“I FOUND HER,” WELLS told Jordan over the phone as Jordan followed the man and woman leaving the restaurant.
“I’m following the other two,” Jordan told him.
“They may lead you here.”
“Where’s here?”
Jordan listened carefully to the directions Wells gave him. Sure enough, the couple driving the car ahead of him followed those same directions almost as if they were listening, too.
He couldn’t let them know he was on to them. Jordan backed off in his pursuit, passed the turn they took onto a dirt road, and eventually doubled back and turned down that same road, forcing himself to drive slowly and not give in to the desperate need to find her before they got to her.
His phone rang again, and again it was Wells. “I see you. Pull over.”
“Where’d they go?” he asked angrily, bitterly. “I don’t see them.”
“Pull over. Get out of the truck.”
Reluctantly, Jordan did as he was told.
“Come east.”
Jordan looked east and saw Wells standing in a heavily wooded area staring back at him as he put away his phone.
“They might see my truck,” he told Wells as the two met up.
Wells turned and started walking. “They won’t make it back this far.”
“Ain’t no gotdamn where to go out—”
Jordan and Wells stopped at the sound of a man’s voice. Wells turned slowly to Jordan and smiled. “We’ve got company.”
It took everything in Jordan to stay put. She was close. He didn’t have to see her to know it, because he felt it. In this moment, the two men hurried toward the voice.
“James!” They stopped and heard first a man, then a woman call out that name.
Wells started to move in their direction. Jordan followed. Wells pulled out his gun. Jordan pulled out his. Jordan didn’t give a shit about the man and woman chasing down James out here in these woods. All he wanted was Abby. Jesus! Where was she? Please! Don’t let him be too late.
All of a sudden, Wells stopped, raised his weapon, and locked on the man and the woman Jordan had followed from the restaurant.
“Oh, God!” the woman exclaimed, staring wide-eyed and stunned at the two of them, before dropping to her knees and collapsing into tears.
“In my own mind,” Wells coolly responded, “perhaps.”
The man with her looked as if he’d shit himself and slowly raised his hands in surrender.
“Get your girlfriend up and let’s go find your little buddy, James,” Wells told them, motioning for them to keep moving.
“Where’s Abby?” Jordan lunged at the man, grabbed him by the front of his hoodie, and damn near lifted him off the ground.
“We don’t know,” he shot back in fear.
“But you’re gonna take us to her,” Wells chimed in, standing behind Jordan. “Right, son?”
Reluctantly, Jordan let him go, grabbed that woman by the arm, and forced her to stand. They hadn’t walked much farther before he saw her, Abby, stumbling and falling down a hill, running from the motha fucka behind her. The world around Jordan disappeared, and she was all that existed. She was alive. Abby managed to get to her feet, looked behind her, and when she turned to run, she bumped into him and then she fell, kicking and swinging at him like he was the enemy.
“It’s me,” he said, reaching for her. “It’s all right,” Jordan said as if he were in a trance. Jordan half expected to wake up in his bed, ready to tick off another day of having to try to live without her. He squatted and held out his hand to her. “It’s all right.”
She looked at him and he knew that he had found her and that this wasn’t a dream.
That bastard trying to stop his momentum on the way down that hill after Abby caught Jordan’s attention. Without thinking, Jordan stepped over Abby and made contact with that motha fucker when he landed, with a hard right to his jaw. It didn’t take a genius to put all these pieces together. The bastard had something sticking out of his eye. She’d been running—from him. The only things real in this situation were Abby, this man, Jordan, and the gun he held in his hand.
That sonofabitch lay writhing on the ground—spitting out blood—cursing and crying out, but Jordan couldn’t hear him. Pleading. Begging for what? Mercy? Life? Jordan turned slowly to Abby, standing behind him, trembling. She had been so brave. She had saved her own life. Abby, his love. His salvation, standing there, resurrecting him.
She peeled her eyes off of the pile of shit squirming at his feet, and locked gazes with Jordan. The connection was electric.
“Did he do that to you?” he asked her.
Blood was smeared across her nose and cheek. A gash split her lower lip. He’d warned them about what would happen if they’d hurt her. She looked at the man on the ground.
“I didn … I didn’t touch her, man! Look! Look at her! She ran, but I didn’t—”
The man, James, stared pitifully at her, realizing that she held the power over his life in this moment.
Jordan turned back to her. “Did he touch you, Abby?”
Abby looked back at Jordan and nodded.
“Nah! Don’t— You know I didn’t,” he pleaded to her. “You know—I just—damn, you know I—”
James raised himself up to kneeling in front of Jordan. Jordan pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. Some trespasses could cost you every damn thing. And this one would cost James’s life.
The chorus of voices coming from the people behind him got lost in a vacuum.
“Don’t,” the man behind him cried out. “Please don’t, man.”
The woman wailed. The sounds of birds chirping, of the wind rustling through the leaves, even the sound of the river nearby, all disappeared in that moment. The man in front of Jordan stared up at him with that one good eye and for half a second seemed to come to terms with his fate before Jordan pulled the trigger.
There is something absolute about the sound a gun makes when it’s fired. Jordan had never killed a man before. Not personally. Until now, he’d never had a reason to.
Jordan turned slowly, walked past the other two, now on their knees staring shocked and openmouthed at the carnage at the bottom of the hill named James, and shoved his weapon in the back of his jeans as he looked to Wells.
“You got this?” he asked, wearily.
Wells nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Jordan walked over to Abby, still trembling and reaching for him; he gathered her in his arms, and carried her away.
* * *
Jordan needed to get her home. To his home, to their home in Dallas. Neither of them said a word to the other. He held her until she cried herself asleep in the seat beside him, and Jordan drove the nearly three hours feeling like he was under the influence of some drug. Exhaustion had set in.
When they arrived at the penthouse, he carried her inside and up the stairs to the shower. Jordan turned on the heads a
nd adjusted the water until it was suitable. Then, fully clothed, he led her into the enclosure, let the warm water wash over them both, pressed her back against the wall, and leaned over her, resting his head against his arm against the wall above her head. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, hold her close, and sleep.
“Take … take these off,” he said, gently at first, carefully tugging on her shirt.
That filthy bastard had touched her, and Jordan needed to wash any residue of that sonofabitch off of her. Jordan wanted him gone, every bone and muscle of him, everywhere he’d put his hands on her. James. James had soiled her, dirtied her.
“Take it off, Abby,” he said, pulling more forcefully, and then lifting her shirt up by the hem and pulling it over her head.
That fucking pig had put his gotdamned hands on her! “Take it off!”
“Jordan.”
“Take—take it—take it off!”
Something snapped in him. Madness rose to the surface and consumed him. He pulled down her shorts and kicked them aside. Jordan reached for the soap. Fuck! What the hell had he done to her? Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t!
All that mattered was erasing every second of this disgusting ordeal and washing it away. Erasing days like they never happened. Like she was never taken. Like she was never separated from him.
“Jordan. Stop!”
Abby’s pleas came from some faraway place. “Jordan, it’s okay,” she said, breathless. “It’s okay, Jordan.” Abby cried and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m here. It’s okay, baby, It’s okay, now.”
His hand throbbed. Jordan didn’t even remember pounding his fist into the shower wall. He didn’t realize that he was crying too until he felt her soft hand on the side of his face, her kisses on his cheek and lips. Abby was his weakness. And she was probably the only one he’d ever had.
“You found me, Jordan.” She whispered again and again, “It’s over.”
He had no idea how long they stayed in that shower. Both of them bathed and dried off, then climbed into bed. He didn’t even know what time it was, but it didn’t matter. His phone had been ringing incessantly until he finally turned it off. Jordan lay in bed next to her, and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. She stayed awake as long as she could before finally drifting off to sleep, but he watched her a little while longer, afraid that if he closed his eyes, she’d disappear. Eventually, though, sleep took hold of him, too.
