A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  My hand flew to his hand in my hair, grasping on tightly. Pain shot through my head as he grasped my hair roughly and pulled me in close to him.

  “You know, if it wasn’t for Chris I wouldn’t have met you,” he told me. “This wouldn’t be happening. Don’t you blame him at all?”

  “Mr. Heywood isn’t the psycho who wants to kidnap me just because I look like his old girlfriend!”

  Shawn’s eyes hardened. “Surely you don’t think Chris likes you for you.”

  “He does,” I stated stubbornly. “Mr. Heywood knows me, Shawn. You don’t know anything about me. I’m not Holly Pierce! I’m Holly Evers!”

  Shawn growled. I cried out in pain, wildly swinging my fist. When I felt it make contact with Shawn’s face, once again I was shoved backwards. This time I ran into something hard, and a strong arm shot by my face, punching Shawn. Mr. Heywood yanked me away from Shawn.

  “Run,” he ordered quietly, shoving me behind him.

  Shawn swung his fist at Mr. Heywood’s face. He dodged, once again pulling me roughly to the side so I wouldn’t be hit. Casey was screaming something at me, but I was too focused on Mr. Heywood and Shawn to understand her. Shawn managed to knick Mr. Heywood on the side of the jaw, but he retaliated by landing a blow on Shawn’s right temple. Anyone watching knew Mr. Heywood had the advantage.

  But anyone watching also knew something wasn’t right with Mr. Heywood.

  His breathing was heavier than it should have been, and his movements slower and sloppier than usual. While he still had the upper hand, he was handicapped by the injury on his forehead. I had to think quickly. That injury would not fare well in this fight. If Mr. Heywood got hit there again, something serious could happen.

  “Feeling a little tired?” Shawn taunted, only slightly breathless.

  “No,” Mr. Heywood responded, dodging another of Shawn’s swings.

  Shawn smirked. “Liar.”

  Mr. Heywood landed a hard blow on Shawn’s lower jaw. Shawn’s eyes shot open in surprise, and he let out a little gasp. Mr. Heywood smirked slightly as Shawn closed his eyes, staggering backwards. Relief washed through me immediately. Was that the end?

  Suddenly Shawn’s eyes snapped open, a smug smile on his lips as he brought his arm straight into Mr. Heywood’s face. Right where the injury before was. A split second of terror passed, and I blinked. When I opened my eyes, Mr. Heywood was crumpled on the floor. Shawn kicked him savagely. Casey started screaming again as a gasp escaped my lips.

  Now it was my turn to step in again. With my chest constricted tightly, I stepped between the two men, holding up my hands, my eyes shut tight. Shawn immediately stopped assaulting Mr. Heywood. When I opened my eyes I saw Shawn scowling at me.

  “The cops will be here soon,” I told him in a shaky voice.

  Realization flashed on Shawn’s face and for a minute he looked panicky. “Shit.” Then he calmed down again, giving me a hard look. “Then you have two choices, Holly. Watch as yet another person close to you dies, or come with me.” He looked meaningfully at Casey.

  “Holly,” Casey started, but I shook my head at her.

  “No more,” I said quietly, my eyes flickering down to Mr. Heywood’s once again motionless body. “Shawn, I’ll go with you. Don’t hurt them anymore! Please!” I begged, tears springing to my eyes. “I promise to do anything you ask. Just let them go.”

  Shawn sighed contently. “That’s what I like to hear. Good choice, Holly.”

  “Holly . . .”

  I ignored Casey, keeping my eyes focused on Shawn and his gun. My eyes flickered to the staircase on the other side of the room. The same staircase I had fallen through not so long ago . . . An idea suddenly formed in my mind, and I caught my breath.

  Stooping down next to the burly man’s body, Shawn said. “Hey Ben, wake up. Cops are coming soon.”

  “Casey,” I started in the quietest voice I could conjure. “Listen closely.”

  Casey made a sound that showed me she was listening.

  “I’m going to lead Shawn upstairs,” I told her, my trying to keep my voice calm. “I want you to escape.”

  “What about—”

  I shook my head slightly. “The cops will help Mr. Heywood and Jeremy. Just escape as soon as we’re on the sixth stair of the staircase, okay?”

  “Why—”

  “Okay?” I repeated forcefully.

  “Okay,” Casey mumbled begrudgingly. “Will you be okay?”

  I glanced at her. “I hope.”

  Shawn made a sound of disagreement with his tongue, pushing himself back to his feet. “Seems like Jeremy really packed a punch. It’s such a shame . . .” Shawn glanced at Jeremy’s body on the ground.

  “Shawn,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “My phone is upstairs. I guess I dropped it while I was looking for Casey.”

  “And?” Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I gave him a flat look. “Aren’t you planning on kidnapping me? If the cops find it, they’ll have a lead.”

  Shawn looked surprised for a minute, than concern flashed across his face. “Shit. You’re right.”

  “Are you going to go get it?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, and you’re coming with me,” he stated, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go.”

  I gave Casey a meaningful look before following Shawn to the other side of the room. To cover any noises of Casey moving, I decided to talk.

  “How come you only brought two people with you?”

  Shawn shrugged. “I felt like any more would be too suspicious. People at the fair were already giving me, Ben, and Jamie funny looks. Besides, I knew you’d come around if I threatened Chris and your friends. In that way, you’re just like my old Holly.”

  A cold chill ran through me. Yeah, just like her . . .

  Shawn started climbing the steps, still with me in tow. I counted in my head as he climbed.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  I swallowed nervously. What if the steps didn’t give out? What if we made it to the top? What would I do then? Try to run? What if Casey didn’t have enough time to make it out by then? My plan would be ruined. This was the only thing I had left to rely on. If this didn’t work then . . .

  Four.

  Five.

  Six.

  Shawn stepped on the seventh step, then the eighth, and then the ninth. The one above it, the tenth, was still broken from when I’d fallen through before. Shawn overstepped it, putting his foot down on the eleventh. I held my breath, waiting, watching. Shawn put all his weight on the step.

  Nothing happened.

  Panic immediately welled up inside of me. Why didn’t the step give way? Shawn had to weigh at least a hundred pounds more than I did! Without thinking, I quickly jumped onto Shawn’s back. He let out a groan of surprise, falling back onto the eleventh step. This time there was a distinguishing crack.

  “What the hell?” he shouted as his foot plummeted through the stair.

  I felt myself falling as well and I gasped in surprise, throwing my arms forward, trying to grab onto something. Luckily, I managed to get a good grasp on the next stair, but I felt Shawn’s hand close over my leg. I was yanked down, my nails scraping against the wood as my hand slipped closer to the edge.

  Panic flared within me again. I hadn’t expected Shawn to be able to grab me before he fell!

  “Don’t you dare let go,” Shawn growled. “Or you’ll regret it.”

  “I don’t plan to let go,” I shot back.

  “Good.”

  I tried pulling myself up, but with Shawn clinging onto me, it was fruitless. It took all my strength to keep hanging on while my arm protested painfully. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes widening in surprise when I noticed Casey wasn’t by the door anymore. Nor was Mr. Heywood. Or Jeremy. How had Casey carried both of them out already?

  I shook my head. I shouldn’t be worried about how she did it, I should be happy she did. Now all I needed to do was find a way
to get myself out of this mess. My hand slid another inch closer to the edge and I groaned. My guess was that the drop was a good fifteen to twenty feet. If I landed wrong, it would be enough to injure me severely.

  To my embarrassment, I felt my pants sliding lower. I really wanted to pull them up, but I couldn’t reach for them. I let out a small gasp.

  Shawn was holding onto my pants.

  Not me.

  My pants.

  I looked down to double check that he actually was clinging onto my pants, not my ankle. He really was. Just as my pants slid down another inch, my hands slipped again. My belt tugged painfully at my waist and some slivers stuck under my fingernails, making me wince in pain. I had to make Shawn let go.

  I started moving my feet together, trying to take off my shoes.

  “What are you doing?” Shawn demanded. “Stop moving.”

  My first shoe came off without a problem, and I heard it fall to the ground below. It was a terrifying five seconds. My next shoe came off just as easily. The next thing I had to take off would be a bit more difficult.

  I could already feel my face heating up. A part of me really didn’t want to do it, but the rational part told this was the only way to save myself. I made sure I had a good grasp my left hand before reaching to my waist with my right hand. In one swift motion, I pulled off my belt. Immediately, my pants slid off. Shawn only had time to let out a surprised shout before he fell.

  There was a thump and a long, low groan from under me. Using all my strength, I hoisted myself back onto the steps. As soon as I was safe, my arms gave out, and I let out a relieved breath. I had to remember to thank my mom for picking up boxers at the store for me, and thank myself for not wearing girly panties today. Heck, from this day on I’d wear nothing but boxers.

  When I heard another groan from the floor below me, I got to my feet and scampered down the steps. I turned to retrieve my pants, but instantly scolded myself. I had to get out of here now.

  “Don’t move,” I heard Shawn order.

  A sudden, awful, anxious feeling washed over me. It felt like time had slowed down as I turned and faced Shawn. Half of me expected what I saw next, but a startled squeak escaped my mouth when my eyes focused on the gun Shawn was pointing at me.

  Shawn attempted to push himself to his feet, but he groaned and eased his body back to the ground. “You . . .” he growled, glaring at me. “You will regret this.”

  “No I won’t,” I said boldly, even though my voice was shaking.

  Shawn never lowered the gun pointed at me. “Holly, I don’t understand why you don’t want to come with me. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

  “Wasn’t?”

  Shawn narrowed his eyes. “After the way you’ve acted tonight, I think you deserve punishment.”

  “Punishment?” I cried shrilly. “I deserve punishment? After you kidnapped my best friend, almost killed the man you know I love, and shot Jeremy? And I still deserve punishment? For what? For not wanting to go with a creep like you? I’m not in love with you, nor will I ever be. You don’t know me, Shawn!”

  Shawn gave me a harsh glare. “Come here.”

  “No!”

  “Fine, you leave me no choice.” Shawn readjusted the gun in his hand.

  I felt my heart drop. “Shawn, don’t . . .”

  “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he told me, reminding me of one of the many horror movies I watched last summer with Lance and Casey. Except this wasn’t a movie. This was my life.

  Before I could protest, I watched as Shawn’s finger squeezed the trigger. I cried out, raising my hands to cover my face, even though I knew that wouldn’t help anything. I could feel the bullet tearing through my skin, ready to render me useless.

  LESSON thirty-eight

  When Shawn swore, my eyes shot open. I scanned my body, realizing I was completely unharmed. What happened? A dud bullet? Did he run out of ammo? Whatever it was, luck was on my side. Shawn suddenly chucked the gun at me and it just barely hit my shoulder. I winced and jerked away. Shawn was trying to stand up again. I didn’t waste any more time.

  I sprinted for the door, in my socks, a pair of boxers, and my shirt.

  “Holly, I’m going to get you!” Shawn shouted after me.

  Casey had left the door open so I didn’t stop as I burst through it. Instead of feeling free, I felt pain as I ran into someone roughly. I screamed and my eyes shot open as I staggered backwards, coming face to face with Jeremy. My scream abruptly stopped, and I gasped.

  “Jeremy! I thought—” I choked out, caught up with emotion.

  “No time to explain now Holly,” Jeremy cut me off, looking over me. “We’ve got to go—Holly, where are your pants?”

  “Uh . . .”

  “Never mind,” Jeremy said quickly, grabbing my wrist. “The cops will be here any second. We’ve got to go now.”

  Together we hurried for Jeremy’s car, which was already running. My mind was racing. Jeremy was alive! But how? He had been shot!

  “In the car,” Jeremy demanded, hurrying to the driver’s seat.

  I opened the door to the back, finding Mr. Heywood sprawled out on the seat. Being as gentle as possible I raised his head and slid in, placing his head down in my lap. Jeremy hopped into the front and slammed on the gas.

  “Here,” Casey said breathlessly, turning and tossing me her sweatshirt as Jeremy floored it. “Do I even want to know where your pants are?”

  “Nope.”

  I caught the sweatshirt and lifted up Mr. Heywood’s head again, pushing the sweatshirt between his head and my lap before setting his head down again. The gash on his forehead caught my attention and I felt my heart start to pound faster. I gently placed my hand on the side of his forehead without any wounds.

  “How’d you guys escape?” I asked.

  Casey turned to grin at me. “It’s a good thing I had a bobby pin.”

  “You picked the lock?”

  “I’m not totally useless,” Casey commented with a shrug.

  I couldn’t help but grin at her. “Nope. And thank god you’re not.” Turning to Jeremy, I asked, “how are you so okay after being shot?”

  He turned and smirked at me. “Didn’t I tell you I had a few tricks up my sleeve?”

  “Eyes on the road!” Casey commanded, making Jeremy roll his eyes.

  “Bulletproof vest,” Jeremy answered the question I was about to ask. “It wasn’t like I was unprepared.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So . . . wait. You were just randomly wearing a bulletproof vest?”

  Jeremy laughed. “No, I just had a bad feeling this morning, so I put it on.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “It saved my life, didn’t it?”

  I smiled slightly. “Yeah, it did. That really scared me though.”

  “I could tell from your voice,” Jeremy commented, sounding amused. “Jeremy! Jeremy!” he mimicked in a high-pitched tone.

  A blush made its way onto my face and I glared at the back of Jeremy’s head. “It’s not funny! I really was worried about you!”

  “I know,” Jeremy told me, all playfulness gone. “Thank you.”

  I lowered my gaze. “You don’t need to thank me . . .” Seeing the large gash on Mr. Heywood’s head again made me suck in a quick breath. “What are we going to tell the hospital?”

  Jeremy glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “For Chris? My plan was to say that he slipped in his shed and landed on a shovel.”

  I stared at Jeremy. “You’re kidding.”

  Jeremy shook his head. “Nope.”

  “But that’s so . . . That’s so unlike Mr. Heywood!”

  “I know,” Jeremy commented with a grin. “It’s definitely more of a Holly move to just randomly fall for no reason.”

  He was right. A small laugh escaped my lips, but I immediately shut my mouth. This wasn’t the time to be laughing. Even though we had escaped Shawn, Mr. Heywood was still seriously injured. Who knew if he’d even wake up?<
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  Just then he emitted a small groan, contradicting my thoughts and making my heart skip a beat. I brought my head closer to his, holding my breath. Had I imagined it?

  “Mr. Heywood?” I asked quietly. “Can you hear me?”

  He made another groaning noise, and his eyes fluttered open. For a split second we made eye contact, until his eyes shut again. Casey turned around in her seat and we looked at each other with worried expressions.

  “Holly?”

  He spoke! My eyes snapped back down to my lap. Mr. Heywood’s eyes were opened again.

  “Holly?” he repeated.

  “It’s me,” I whispered, feeling my eyes feeling up with tears.

  Mr. Heywood raised his right arm, pressing his hand to my face. He cupped my cheek, and ran his thumb back and forth over the skin. We hit a bump in the road and he winced, letting out a groan of pain, dropping his hand onto his chest.

  “Are you okay?” I asked quickly.

  “Are you okay?” he responded, sounding weak.

  I smiled down at him, blinking the tears out of my vision. “I’m okay. More okay than you at least . . .”

  He swallowed, shutting his eyes again. “Shawn . . .”

  “Shawn’s back at the hideout. The police will find him,” I told him.

  “I wanted to protect you.”

  His voice cracked and I stared down at him, startled. Since when did his voice ever crack? Once again I felt the overwhelming urge to cry. I gripped his hand in mine. Clenching my jaw, I shook my head at him vigorously.

  “Mr. Heywood, you did protect me,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “Even though you weren’t absolutely sure Shawn had me or not, you still went to help me. And you tried to fight him, even though you were injured. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that he was texting me. We could have avoided this all together. I’m sorry,” I repeated, letting tears spill down my face.

  He gazed at me with smoldering eyes. “How is it you’re crying when I’m the one who wants to?”

  “We all know it’s not humanly possible for you to cry,” Jeremy commented, making my smile in spite of myself.

  Then a blush appeared on my face—I had totally forgotten that Jeremy and Casey were there with us. I kept my gaze fixed on the button to the window, embarrassment making me hot. Mr. Heywood chuckled.