A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  “Texting your boyfriend?”

  “Jealous?”

  Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Not really. I’m not particularly interested in men that are four years older than me.”

  “So you’re interested in other men?”

  He gave me a flat look. “No, Holly. I’m not gay.”

  I shrugged, holding up my hands defensively. “I never said that.”

  “Holly, do you have the feeling that something bad is going to happen?”

  “Huh?”

  Lance’s suddenly serious expression threw me off guard. My heart dropped, and I lowered my gaze to the table. “You too, huh?”

  Suddenly there was the wailing of a siren outside of the café. Both Lance and I whipped our heads towards the window as a police car whizzed by. A shock ran through me and I turned to Lance with wide eyes.

  “That was creepy,” he commented, slowly coming out of his tense state.

  A small laugh left my lips. “Very weird.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” he stated, as if trying to assure both of us. “It’s just pre-court jitters, right?”

  I bit my lower lip and chewed it slowly. “Probably. But, I don’t know, all of this seems too easy. Shawn went down with barely any fight.”

  Lance raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Heywood get slammed with a shovel?”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” I admitted. “He hurt Mr. Heywood, but not that seriously. He wanted to get me, but failed. He tried to kill Jeremy, but Jeremy survived. He took Casey, but didn’t harm her. I feel like I’m missing something.”

  Lance’s eyebrows pulled together. “This is life, Holly. Not a movie. Something huge doesn’t need to happen in order for something horrible to end.”

  “I know, but still . . . It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Do you want something else to happen?”

  “No! No, definitely not!” I cried immediately. A man dressed in a black suit sitting across from us shot me a dirty look.

  Lance let out a quiet sigh. “Okay, I know what you mean. But Shawn can’t do anything. He’s been locked up in jail for the past couple days, and he’s only coming out to go to court today. He’ll be guarded the whole time.”

  Just then the waitress returned with our order. She had a curious expression on her face, as if she had been listening to our conversation. Lance thanked her, giving her a look that said “go away.” She smiled at him for a moment before walking away from the table. My croissant was calling my name, so I pulled the plate closer to me and began to pick at it.

  “We have ten minutes before I have to go to the courtroom,” Lance informed me, ripping off the top part of his muffin. “You don’t have to come right away if you don’t want to.”

  I shrugged, popping a piece of my buttery pastry into my mouth. “I can wait in the hall or something. I’d rather not be here alone and look like a loner.”

  Lance laughed. “Alright.”

  Time passed more quickly than I had expected, and soon it was time for Lance to go. I asked the waitress to put my coffee into a to-go cup, and ordered another croissant to go. Lance raised an eyebrow at me.

  “What? I’m hungry,” I defended, taking a small paper bag from the cashier.

  Lance laughed. “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

  We exited the warm café, heading out into the freezing morning air. A shiver ran through me, and I quickly pulled my jacket tighter around me. Luckily for us, the courtroom was just around the corner and across the street. Together Lance and I hurried down the deserted street, keeping our heads down and away from the chilling wind. It was times like this when I wished I carried a scarf around with me.

  As we turned the corner I heard the sound of Lance exhaling quickly. Immediately my heart leapt into my throat, fearing the worst. When I glanced up, I realized the only thing that had happened was Lance had ran into a man walking in the opposite direction. I almost laughed at my anxiousness.

  “Sorry,” Lance apologized, taking a step away from the man, who was dressed in a black suit like the guy in the café.

  The man shook his head. “No worries,” he responded, stepping out of the way to pass by Lance.

  Lance started walking again, this time a little quicker. I made to follow after him, but the guy in the suit now bumped into me, making me drop my coffee and croissant. I stared at my breakfast, now lying on the ground. “Oh no,” I complained, stooping down to pick it up. “Hey Lance—”

  My call was cut off when a loud engine roar suddenly filled the air. Startled, I snapped back up. Lance was now a good distance away. A scowl appeared on my face. Couldn’t he wait for me at least once? Sighing, I looked down to retrieve my breakfast.

  A rush of air left my mouth when something hard suddenly slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I doubled over, clutching my stomach and gasping. I was swept off my feet and too shocked to make a sound. When whoever had me started dragging me away my voice came back and I screamed as loudly as I could, struggling violently.

  “Lance!” I screamed desperately, feeling hands enclose around my flailing arms. “Lance! Help me! Someone! He—” My cries were abruptly cut off when a hand roughly covered my mouth.

  Panic swelled up in me, and I soon found myself hyperventilating—which just made it more difficult to breathe since someone still had their hand clamped over my mouth. The sound of a car door opening met my ears and I was tossed violently into some type of vehicle with tinted windows. A man—the same man Lance had bumped into—climbed in after me, slamming the door shut. There was a squeal of tires and I was thrown from the seat as the car jolted forwards.

  “No!” I shrieked, pushing myself into a sitting position. “Let me out! Stop the car!”

  “Shut up,” the man in the suit demanded, shooting me a hard look.

  “Please,” I begged, terror coursing through my veins. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

  A pair of hands suddenly landed on my shoulder, and someone’s breath tickled my ear. “Boo.”

  My head snapped around and I came face to face with the person I least expected.

  Shawn.

  He smirked at me, drumming his fingers on my shoulders. “Hello, Holly.”

  I screamed. A long, horrified, high-pitched shriek. Shawn made a face, pulling back slightly. I screamed again, unable to process what was happening. How was Shawn in the car? He was supposed to be at the courtroom! He was supposed to be in protective custody! When another scream left my lips, Shawn abruptly shoved his hand to my mouth.

  “Will you shut up?” he demanded, rolling his eyes. “I know as a matter of fact my face isn’t that horrible.”

  I cried out into his hand, bringing my own hands up to try to pull it off. However, he held fast, keeping me silent. For a split second my vision swam and I thought I was going to pass out. Horror filled me as I fought to keep myself conscious. I couldn’t faint now!

  “You don’t need to scream, Holly,” Shawn told me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I gave him a flat look. He chuckled, pulling his hand away. Immediately I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I started hyperventilating again. “How are you . . .?” My voice cracked and I clamped my lips shut, flushing.

  “It’s called having back-up plans,” Shawn explained, rolling his eyes. “When you told me the cops were coming, I quickly made a plan with some my men that would help me escape custody later, since they couldn’t beat the cops to the hideout that night. Let me tell you Holly, jail is not fun.”

  “I hope you get used to it, because that’s where you’re going back to,” I shot at him, glaring as hard as I could.

  Shawn laughed. “I know that. But I’m not going to go down without a fight.”

  “A fight?”

  “Not with you,” Shawn assured me. “With Chris. I want to settle things with him once and for all. Last time he was at a disadvantage. I want to fight him equally.”

  “W
hat does that have to do with me?”

  Shawn cocked an eyebrow. “Why, you’re the bait of course.”

  “Bait?” I repeated incredulously. Shawn was seriously going to use me as bait?

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Shawn started, leaning back into his seat. “You’re just an annoying, little child. Although you may look like my Holly, you two are nothing alike. Put nicely, you’re too immature for me.”

  I glared at him. “I’m immature? Of course, because I go around kidnapping girls all the time!”

  Shawn smirked in amusement. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re attitude really pisses me off.”

  “I don’t aim to make you happy,” I snapped back at him.

  Shawn shrugged. “Whatever. Mikey, get her cell for me.”

  Mikey, the man in the suit, suddenly leaned closer to me. I eyed him warily, leaning away from him. As he brought himself closer to me, I moved backwards until my back hit the window. He reached a hand over and put it in my coat pocket, searching through it.

  “Get away from me!” I shouted at him, trying to pull his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

  He ignored my cries, checking the other pockets in my jacket. Then he moved to my pants pockets, patting them down. I struggled away from him, pushing myself to the far edge of the car. Mikey sent me an impatient look.

  “Stop touching me,” I ordered, shoving my hand into my back pocket and pulling out my cell phone, then chucking it at him. “Take it.”

  Mikey glowered at me as my phone hit him squarely in the neck. Shawn let out a low chuckle from behind me, reaching his hand towards Mikey for the phone. Mikey gave him it, sending another harsh glare towards me. I glared back, trying to look menacing, even though I was terrified.

  “Shall we give Chris a little call?” Shawn inquired, flipping open my cell phone. “I’m not sure how much time we’ll have before the cops find me.”

  Before I could reply Shawn already had the phone to his ear. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as Shawn hummed quietly, waiting for Mr. Heywood to pick up. From where I was I could just barely hear the sound of his phone ringing. Shawn’s expression brightened when Mr. Heywood’s voice came through the receiver.

  “Chris!” Shawn greeted him enthusiastically. “Hmm? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or do you not recognize who this is?” After a moment of silence Shawn let out a bark of laughter. “Do whatever you want. I’m just calling to let you know, as you so correctly guessed, I have your little Holly with me right now. Say hello, Holly.”

  I bit my tongue to stay quiet. I would not let myself be bait to trap Mr. Heywood. “Say hello, Holly,” he repeated in a threatening tone. I stayed silent, glaring at him. He sighed. “Okay. Mikey.”

  My eyes locked onto Mikey, who was frowning me. He reached for me and I quickly leaned away from him, watching him cautiously. He grabbed the edge of my coat, trying to tug me closer to him. I kept my mouth clamped shut, gripping onto my seat as tightly as I could. In one rough tug, I slid off the seat in his direction. His hand was suddenly wrapped in my hair, and he pulled on it roughly. I bit my tongue harder, wincing in pain. Shawn gave us an impatient look.

  “I assure you I have her,” Shawn said into the phone, his eyes never leaving me. “She’s just being a stubborn brat.”

  Mikey pulled on my hair again, and once again I managed to avoid crying out in pain. However, I did bring up my arms to try to push his away. I raked my nails against his skin, causing him to his in pain and let me go. Before I could push myself away, he grabbed my arm and twisted in violently. This time a small cry of pain escaped my tightly pressed lips.

  Shawn had a smug look on. “Did you hear that? Whoa there, calm down. I’m going to tell you where we are in a minute. I won’t hurt her. No. Hold on.” Shawn sent Mikey a bored look. “Let her go.”

  Mikey roughly shoved me away, making an armrest jam awkwardly into my back. Wincing, I pushed myself back up into my seat. Guilt washed over me as I realized now Mr. Heywood would come try to save me again. My hands clenched into fists so tight that my nails dug into my skin.

  “Go to the place where we first met,” Shawn said into the phone. “Last time it was where I met your Holly, so it’s fitting that we meet where we first met so many years ago.” Shawn went quiet for a moment, frowning. He sighed then held out my phone to me. “For you.”

  I quickly grabbed it, pressing it to my ear. “Mr. Heywood! Don’t—”

  “I’m coming to get you,” he interjected in a hard tone. “Try to stay safe until I get there. It should only be a few minutes, I was already going in that direction.”

  “Don’t come! He’s using me as bait!”

  “I don’t care if you’re bait for me,” Mr. Heywood responded, sounding irritated. “I’m coming to get you!”

  My mouth went dry and my grasp on the phone tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Mr. Heywood responded. “I’m going to settle this once and for all. Then this won’t ever happen again because Shawn will be dead.”

  My eyes widened in surprise, but before I could say anything more I heard the click that signaled he ended the call. Shawn raised an eyebrow as I lowered the phone away from my ear.

  “So?” Shawn asked. “You can keep your phone now, by the way.”

  I glared at him. “I hate you.”

  He smirked. “I know.”

  LESSON forty-five

  A shiver wracked my body as I stood in the freezing air, my jacket doing little to stop the cold from permeating throughout my body. Shawn stood a few feet away from me, his hands shoved into his pockets. He rocked on the balls of his feet, whistling quietly to himself. Off a little ways was Mikey, looking incredibly bored and just as cold as I was. Another man stood near Mikey—the driver of the car. He was a large man with a shaved head. He caught me staring at him and he grinned. Immediately I turned my attention to the building we were standing beside. Or rather, what was left of the building.

  From what I could tell, it was the skeleton of a two-floor country house. However, the place looked like it had been to hell and back. The wood that was still standing was completely black and had some weird type of moss growing on it. Two sides of the house were still standing, also covered in the weird moss. Vines grew up one side of it, all the way up to the caved-in roof.

  Surrounding the decimated house was a dense forest. It reminded me of the hideout we were at only a little more than a week before. A sudden gust of wind whipped my hair around my face, blocking my vision. As I raised my hand to push it away, the sound of an engine roaring came from the distance. I turned to see Mr. Heywood’s car pull into sight.

  “Finally,” Shawn complained loudly. “I was beginning to think he wouldn’t show. Eh, Holly?”

  I glared at him for a moment before returning my attention back to Mr. Heywood’s car, which was now coming to a stop near Shawn’s. I started for the car, but Shawn gruffly grabbed my elbow, pulling me efficiently to a stop. Once more I turned my narrowed eyes to him. He held me fast as Mr. Heywood climbed out of the car, not even bothering to shut the door behind him.

  “Good to see you!” Shawn chirped, using his free hand to wave at him. “How was the drive?”

  As soon as Mr. Heywood got close enough to reach me, he grabbed my arm, forcing it out of Shawn’s grasp. In a blink of an eye Mr. Heywood’s fist was in Shawn’s face. A startled gasp escaped my lips as Mr. Heywood brought his fist back and punched Shawn again, this time knocking him to the ground. Shawn smirked up at Mr. Heywood, wiping the edge of his mouth, which already had blood on it. Mr. Heywood struck him again, using as much force as he could.

  “Three,” Shawn stated, not even bothering to defend himself. “Keep them coming, Chris.”

  “What the hell are you counting for?” Mr. Heywood demanded, pausing in his assault.

  Shawn’s smirk grew wider. “Why don’t you let Mikey show you?”

  My eyes flew open when I felt a fist connect with my jaw. I stu
mbled to the side, turning to gawk at Mikey, who was came at me again. I staggered back, bringing a hand up to rub my sore jaw.

  “Holly!” Mr. Heywood shouted, taking a step towards me. Shawn quickly clamped his hands around Mr. Heywood’s ankles.

  “One,” he commented in a casual tone, keeping a vice-like grip on Mr. Heywood.

  Mikey swung towards me again. This time I ducked to avoid his fist, but he brought his other hand up, smashing it into my gut. I doubled over, gasping in pain. Before I had the chance to straighten myself, I once again felt a blow to my face, this time sending me sprawling into the dirt.

  “Three,” Shawn counted off.

  “Holly!” Mr. Heywood shouted again, trying to break free from Shawn’s grasp.

  I stayed on the ground, sucking in as much oxygen as I could. Having the wind knocked out of me twice in one day definitely wasn’t good. I waited for Mikey to hit me again, but nothing came.

  “Holly, are you okay?” Mr. Heywood shouted at me.

  I turned to him, struggling to push myself off the ground. “I’m fine.”

  Mr. Heywood turned his attention back to Shawn. “What the hell are you playing at?”

  “Let’s see how quick of a learner you are. You should catch on quickly—you are a teacher after all,” Shawn commented, finally letting go of Mr. Heywood’s legs. “What will you do?”

  Mr. Heywood once again punched Shawn in the face. “Shut up!”

  This time I felt Mikey coming at me. I dodged his fist, making sure to keep an eye on his other hand so he couldn’t use a cheap shot like last time. Mikey swung his fist at me again and I managed to stop him from hitting my face by blocking with my arm. Pain spread through my forearm at the contact of his strike. I took his moment of surprise from my block to return one of his punches and I nicked him pretty good on the jaw. However, in my elation, I failed to block his second strike, which landed on my nose.

  I cried out in pain, my hands automatically shooting up to my nose. When I pulled one away, I could see blood covering it. Panicking slightly, I leaned forward to let it drip out.