by Brook Wilder
“I know it did, now, stay away from me!” she said, turning around to face him. But Simon was relentless. Never in her life has she seen someone so determined, so merciless, to make her his. Simon was a rapist, a control freak, and what he was about to do to her scared her more than anything. It scared her more than meeting Al.
“Don’t try, just let it happen, let it happen, Della!” Simon said, his hands climbing up her stomach again. His palms rested on her chest area, and Della shoved him with so much force that he fell flat on his back. She couldn’t let Simon find her phone. At that point, Della’s brain was on overdrive. She saw the way he glared at her when she shoved him, his eyes wide with fury. But she had no other choice. If Simon were to find out she had her phone on her, he would kill her. The least he would’ve done was crush the phone to a thousand tiny pieces, and then no one would find her.
That phone is my last chance, my only shot at making it out of this alive, she thought to herself as Simon got back up and charged towards her. She could feel her heart drop to her knees, the look on Simon’s face like nothing she’d ever seen before. He was furious, and she could tell from the way his lips were slightly parted and his nostrils flared. She had just humiliated him, made him feel unwanted, and that was the one thing he couldn’t handle when it came to her. She let out a scream as he pulled her hair back, turned her around again and pinned her down against the hood of his car.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Della said as Simon pushed her head down against the car hood. Immediately, she felt a sharp pain resonate at the base of her skull, Simon’s grip tightening around the back of her neck. “Oh my God, Simon!” Della yelled, her eyes landing on the gun in his pocket. He pulled it out, cocking his pistol, paused for a second and then pushed her head down again, pointing the gun to her head.
“How do you like me now?” he snarled, pressing the muzzle to her forehead. Della yelled out in pain as Simon threatened to shoot her.
“Please, please, I’ll do anything,” she said, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “My child, I’m going to be a mother!” she yelled, her voice trembling.
“Oh, now you’ll do anything?” Simon asked, brushing a hand through her hair. “Oh, honey, you don’t have much of a choice anymore, now, do you?” he asked, his voice turning from raspy to soft. Della was starting to think he had multiple personalities. She opened her mouth but no words came out, and she could feel the muzzle digging into her forehead. At any second, Simon could pull the trigger.
“I don’t, I don’t have a choice, no,” Della said, trying to remain as still as possible. But she couldn’t help but struggle whenever she heard Simon make a move. She couldn’t see what he was doing, and that was the most torturous thing of all.
“Then you’re going to do as I say,” Simon said, his pointer finger dancing around the trigger. “Or you’re dead.”
Della nodded. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Simon slide his gun back into his pocket. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around her again, feeling her up. She clenched her eyes as his hands floated around her belly and then slid further down to her waist and the inside of her thighs. She held in the urge to cry out for help, because she knew no one would hear her. When he reached for her fly and unzipped her pants, she let out a quiet sob, and then he started pinching at her skin to get her to stop.
“Shut up!” he said, his hands sliding down her jeans and feeling her up. “You wet, yeah?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered.
Della crossed her legs and kicked at his feet, but lighter this time.
“Oh, you’re getting feisty again,” Simon said, his hands moving in circular motion over the thin sheath of her underwear. She could feel him get hard behind her, a part of her growing so desperate that she wished the ground would just open up and swallow her. Simon had given her so little room to move, and she found herself wiggling like a worm in such a tight space. “Why so uptight? Just loosen up for me,” Simon hissed, running his hands all over her. Della couldn’t believe this was happening. It was her worst nightmare embodied in a person. Suddenly, Simon groped her too hard, and when she flinched in terror, she heard a clatter.
It was her phone.
Della froze. She stared down at the ground, and when her eyes landed on her phone, she kicked it and it went gliding under Simon’s car.
“What was that?” Simon asked, his head cocked to the side. He let go of Della, scanning the area around them. He thought he heard something.
“What?” Della asked, silently zipping up her pants and looking around her. She couldn’t let Simon feel anything, she couldn’t let him know what she had done.
“What was that sound?” he asked, glaring at Della. She shrugged, pretending to look around her, and when her eyes landed on the phone again, she felt her heart sink. It had glided under the car and then came out the other side. She cursed herself for not taking good care of it, for not holding onto it, and she clenched her eyes, hoping Simon wouldn’t catch a glimpse of it basking in the light of day.
Shit, shit, Della thought to herself as she watched Simon explore their surroundings like a watchdog. He was determined to know where the noise came from.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, glaring at Della. She shook her head, her eyes going to her phone every now and again, trying to make sure that Simon didn’t see it. She thought about what she could do, but she knew she couldn’t just step over there and pick it off the ground. Simon would end her.
“Well, come over here,” Simon sighed, moving towards Della again. He leaned in and kissed her again, and she shrunk away, her eyes fixated on her phone still.
Suddenly, the phone started vibrating.
Della jumped. She could feel her lungs shrivel up, and she was out of breath.
“What the fuck is this?” Simon snapped, his eyes landing on the source of the sound. He picked Della’s phone off the ground, unlocking it and searching through her text messages. “Is this yours?” he asked, his eyes growing wide with fury. Della didn’t know what to say. She just stared at the phone, her lips slightly parted, and then she turned away, not saying anything. “You know what,” Simon said. “I’m going to find out myself.” Simon started looking through the phone, and then his eyes landed on a notification: “Find my iPhone has been successfully turned on.”
“Wait, wait, I can explain,” Della said, her voice trembling. She didn’t know what to do. She was panicking, and at that point, all she wanted was to stall until the cops showed up. She prayed to God they were on their way. They had to be. She knew Prescott was smart, she knew he was probably close to finding her by now.
Simon didn’t answer her. He didn’t take his eyes off her phone, either. He was still going through her texts, trying to monitor everything that had been happening. He found old messages from Prescott, and it was only then that he had made sure the phone was hers.
“You bitch!” Simon yelled, glaring at Della. His fingers were clenched around her phone, and he was staring at her with bloodshot eyes. It was almost like he felt betrayed, stabbed in the back by the love of his life. “When did you turn on the fucking phone finder?” he barked.
“I, I don’t know,” Della said. She folded both arms across her chest, looking around her.
Oh, God, please, let the cops show up, let the cops show up, she thought to herself. Simon was still gawking at her. “I don’t know what to say,” Della muttered. “But I don’t think you should do anything too hasty,” she continued. She knew she was going to regret what she just said.
“Hasty? Hasty?” Simon asked, his head cocked to the side. “You think all of this was hasty?” Della didn’t say anything, she just shifted in her place, trying to avoid looking at him. “Now listen up, this whole thing ...This whole plan was nothing but well thought out. I thought of everything! Every single detail,” Simon said, rather to himself. “And now you barge in and fuck everything up! Who do you think you are?” he asked, yelling into the emptiness of the open ro
ad.
“I’m, I’m sorry,” Della said, shaking.
“Forty minutes, you got this notification forty minutes ago?!” Simon asked, throwing his hands up in the air. “Fuck!” he yelled, brushing a hand through his hair. He was panicking, and Della stared at him as his eyes darted from the phone, to Della and then to the phone again. Suddenly, he threw the gadget to the ground, stared at it for a while and then took his gun out.
“What are you doing?” Della screamed, wrapping both arms around her belly.
Without thinking, Simon fired a shot at Della’s phone, and then another one, and another one. Simon shot the phone five times, and it exploded into shards. Hot bits of plastic burst into the air, some of them threatening to hurt Della.
“Stop, stop!” she said as Simon continued to fire shots at the phone. It was already in pieces, but he wouldn’t stop firing at it. Della was terrified he would point the gun at her, but she didn’t move, feeling her heart break with every shot fired. Had Simon just destroyed her chances of being rescued?
No, no, she thought to herself. Prescott must’ve found another way to get to me. She thought about that forty minute window, how that must’ve been enough time for Prescott to act. And then she thought about Kate. Ever since they reconciled, not a day had gone by without the two of them catching up. Della thought that Kate was probably worried sick about her, she had to be. She knew deep in her heart that everyone who loved and cared about her would move to help find her.
Simon stopped firing. Della breathed a sigh of relief when Simon put the gun back into his pocket, walking over to the remnants of the phone and stomping over them. The man was sick. The phone had almost turned into ashes, but Simon was still stepping all over the remnants like his life depended on it. Della just watched him, tears gathering in her eyes as she felt a wave of despair wash over her. Were they ever going to find her? She was losing hope with every passing second. The weather was getting chilly and she was growing tired, the weight of the baby taking a toll on her ankles.
“Fuck you, fuck you!” Simon yelled, throwing his hands up in the air.
And suddenly, Della heard sirens.
Immediately, she shot up, her eyes darting back and forth. Did she hear right? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?
Simon bounced back. “Shit, shit,” he muttered, scurrying to where Della had been standing. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it. “We have to get out of here,” he hissed.
“Please, please let me go, just leave me here, please!” Della squealed.
“Leave you here? For them? Are you insane?” Simon asked, his grip tightening around her wrist, so tight it hurt.
“Please, I won’t say anything, just let me go and don’t hurt me, I beg you!” Della said, her voice trembling.
“No fucking way, get in the car!” Simon said, popping the back door open and forcing her head down. Della couldn’t believe this was happening. She thought about screaming at the top of her lungs, but when her eyes landed on Simon’s gun poking out of his pocket, she decided against it. She complied to his orders, slipping into the back seat and turning to look at the police cars, whose sirens were echoing everywhere by now.
Please, please just hurry up! she thought to herself. The sirens were getting closer and closer, and Della prayed they would just get there before Simon took off. She thought about Prescott. Was he with the police? Or was Kate with them? Or both? She thought about her family and everyone who cared about her. She was terrified of what would happen next.
Without saying anything, Simon turned on the ignition. Della sighed in desperation, her eyes still fixated on the open road. She prayed for the police cars to appear at the horizon anytime now.
“Bitch, what have you done?” Simon asked, stomping on the gas pedal. And he drove off.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Prescott raced down the highway. He was still listening in on the police radio, tracking the cops’ every move. He was full of hope, and he had gotten that much closer to finding Della, to bringing her home. The cops were approaching a remote area, almost in the middle of nowhere, and Prescott was determined to lose track of them.
“Come on, come on,” he said to himself as he sped down the highway. “How far can this place be?”
The truth was, Simon had taken her somewhere far, somewhere secluded. He had taken her to the far edge of the city, only to make it that much harder for anyone to find them. But it was all Al’s instructions. He was the mastermind behind all of this, and Simon was his puppet. Prescott sighed as the radios seemed to glitch and crackle.
“Not right now, please, not right now,” he mumbled, trying to listen in on what was happening. The connection was getting poor, but Prescott wasn’t giving up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he picked up on what was being said again.
“Maroon Toyota Corolla is speeding on the highway, shots are being fired.”
Prescott cocked his head to the side, panicking at the very thought of a gunfight happening anywhere near Della. He thought about how terrified she must be, and how, if he could, he would wipe Simon off the face of the Earth. It seemed as though Simon didn’t know where he was going anymore. If his goal was to deliver Della to Al, then he was too late. Prescott leaned into his bike, listening as reports of a high speed chase came in through the radio. Simon was speeding down the highway like a madman, and that scared Prescott. Della’s life was in danger. Their baby’s life was in danger. There was no telling what her current state was; was she having contractions? Was she scared shitless? Of course she was. Prescott knew she was a brave woman, but anyone would be terrified. And being pregnant only made matters worse, it only meant she had that much more to lose. They both did. Prescott felt his stomach churn when he thought about their unborn child and what would happen to him if matters got worse. The two most precious people in his life were in danger, and there was really nothing he could do but chase them around hoping that he was heading in the right direction.
“Police are authorizing the use of deadly force.”
“Fuck, fuck,” Prescott yelled as he gunned his engine and moved forward.
Suddenly, Prescott could hear police sirens sounding behind him. His grip on the handlebars tightened, and he could feel himself going at an astounding speed. A part of him felt like he was the one being chased.
Not this time, buddy, he thought. This time, you get to be the fucking hero. It wasn’t like he didn’t think of himself as one, anyway. Prescott was confident, a little too confident, maybe. The only time someone ever made him feel weak was when Al took his father from him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let Simon finish up what Al started. Della was a part of him, and losing her wasn’t an option. Prescott wasn’t going to let anyone make him feel the same way Al did. He looked in the wing mirror, catching a glimpse of a police car.
Don’t try to catch me, catch him! he thought, hoping the cops wouldn’t mistake him for Simon or anyone else involved in Della’s kidnapping. He thought about getting out of their way, but before he could do anything, his eyes landed on a maroon vehicle appearing on the horizon.
“It’s Simon, it’s him!” Prescott yelled, speeding up. He had to be careful not to draw the attention of the police. For now, Simon was who they should be after. The sound of the police sirens penetrated the air like bullets, Prescott was suddenly feeling like they were out to get him. “It’s not me, you idiots!” he said. “It’s Simon you should be worried about!” But the cops were still chasing him. He couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t believe his presence on the highway was distracting them from catching the real criminal. All those negative thoughts were starting to creep up on him again, and he panicked all over again. He leaned into his bike and swerved a little to the left so he could make way for the police to chase Simon. One car moved past him and chased after the maroon car, which was now speeding up even more. It wasn’t long before both cars disappeared from the horizon.
“Fuck, what do you want from me?” Prescott was sure t
he cops were now chasing him.
Of course they’re going to chase you, you idiot! he thought to himself. The cops were after anyone who could possibly be involved in the case. And Prescott’s overall appearance, with his leather jacket embroidered at the back and his tattoos, made him a prime suspect. No matter how much the police feared the Hell’s Reavers, they were still going to do their job and pull him for questioning if it came down to it. Prescott didn’t care about that, he just wanted to be sure that Della was safe, and the only way he could do that was to wait until most of the police cars moved past him and set their targets on Simon. Prescott reached one arm out, motioning for the cars behind him to move past him. He leaned into his bike again, swerving right this time, in order to grab their attention. Another car moved past him, and now Simon had two police cars chasing after him. Prescott gunned his engine again, and now he was finally able to see Simon’s car.
“Holy shit,” Prescott said, his eyes growing wide as Simon’s car appeared again. It was almost completely surrounded by other police cars, and Prescott was beginning to wonder where they had even come from. Simon’s car was swerving back and forth, almost like it was going in a zigzag, with the police cars chasing it at a steady speed. The sirens echoed everywhere, and Prescott felt like he was in some kind of movie. It was true that his life was already pretty action-packed, but he’d never seen anything like this. Simon’s car was swaying back and forth, appearing occasionally amongst the wave of black and white police cars.
