Saving Me (Finding You #3)

by Amanda Mackey

  He pushed me away from him, watching me stumble and struggle to correct my stance, which was made harder by the damn limp.

  John stayed where he was and took aim with the gun, holding it with both hands. “Turn around!” His voice was like thunder.

  There was nothing to do but to obey. Slowly I turned to face the psycho. My heart was galloping to its own rhythm, the blood pounding in my ears, hands shaking.

  “Take your clothes off, nice and slow!”

  “What?”

  No. No. No. Oh God! Not this. Please!

  “You heard me! Do it!”

  It’s not as if he hadn’t seen me naked before but that was beside the point. He was now a stranger to me. I didn’t want to see him desiring me in that way. It was vile. This man who had scarred me for life and taken away a piece of me each time he’d abused me physically and mentally.

  I faltered, so he took a step closer, causing me to bend down to unhook the strap on my sandals. He held all the power in this little soiree.

  Stepping out of the sandals, I stood up.

  He was waving the gun up and down my body as he spat an order. “The dress. Pull it off as if you’re doing a strip tease.”

  I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut, wondering how I was going to act this out. It was humiliation at its best. He would know how I was feeling and would be enjoying every second of it. He didn’t care. It was only about his own needs. I remembered that all too well.

  It felt like I’d been sucked right back into my marriage again and the glorious time spent with Kyle hadn’t even existed.

  Forcing out a breath, my hands found the bottom of the dress and lifted it slowly up my thighs. I wasn’t looking at him but I could sense him eyeing my legs as more flesh was revealed with each rise of the fabric.

  His breathing had changed and it did nothing but incite my disgust further. He made me feel dirty, like a whore.

  It was with great effort that I pulled the dress up and over my head, letting it drop in a heap at my feet. Even with a bra and panties on, I felt naked.

  “Mmmm. Now that was worth the wait! Christ, you get me so hard!”

  I barely heard the words as I hung my head in shame and prayed, trying to block everything out by chanting continuously.

  Please, please let me live through this. Please God, help me. I don’t want to do this. Don’t want to do this. Don’t want…It’ll all be over soon…over soon…over soon…

  “Show me those perky tits!”

  If there wasn’t a gun aimed at me would I be able to fight him off and escape? Probably not, but I would fight with everything I had. He just had to let his guard down for a second. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon though, so for now it would be a case of playing along with his sick game until he got tired.

  Twisting my arm behind me, I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor on top of my dress before inching my panties down, remembering the piece of paper with vital information on it that was tucked into them. Pushing down with my fingers, I made sure the paper stayed inside my panties as I folded them in half on top of my bra.

  John closed the distance like the predator he was, sauntering cockily closer to torment me further. My gaze lifted from the floor to the gun as it came to rest below my left breast and to the center slightly. My heart. One slip of the finger and it would be all over. A whimper accidentally escaped my mouth and my face was tensely screwed up in agonized suspense. My chest rose and fell heavily and with each inhale, the end of the gun pressed in firmer.

  “Look at me, bitch! I want to see the fear in your eyes.”

  It was all a power game. John loved to see and smell terror. It was his sick way of boosting his own self-esteem to make him feel superior. It fed his ego.

  Forced to look into his manic eyes, I understood what pure malevolence looked like. Emotionless and cold. Detached and deranged. He’d totally lost his grasp on reality, and the sick thing was, he actually believed he was sane.

  My distress upped a notch as I stared at his black, cold eyes, looking for a morsel of humanity but there was none.

  When his large, calloused hand found my breast, I recoiled away on instinct. I’d rather die than have him touch me.

  That didn’t go down well though because next thing I knew he had me by the throat. His hand was directly under my chin at my esophagus. He was squeezing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

  “Don’t you ever shy away from me, you hear?” His teeth ground together and the veins were sticking out in his neck. His voice could surely kill a man just by the sheer power of it. I was now petrified. My whole body shook.

  My eyes bulged, lungs screaming for air. Lightheadedness had me seeing spots.

  “Move to the bed!”

  I complied obediently, coughing the moment his hand left my throat, sucking in much needed oxygen to help feed my starving lungs, which were burning. There would be a huge red hand mark imprinted on my neck for sure.

  Was he going to have sex with me? Being naked on a bed with a monster and a gun could only mean one thing. I had to believe that an opportunity would present itself to give me a window of time to get the hell out. Now was not that time. I was starting to wonder if I should have tried to escape before now. At least if I’d fought him while he was driving, we more than likely would have crashed, giving me a slight possibility of survival. Now that I was trapped inside a secluded shack with the devil, I was starting to think my options had run out.

  “Now lie down on your back and spread your arms and legs out wide.”

  I tried not to think of Kyle and Daniel, because if I did, it would only make my heart break in two at the notion that I may never see them again. They were the only good thing in my life and if I thought about losing them, it would kill me long before the gun would.

  With me degradingly lying spread-eagled on the bed, John moved to the bag, which was obviously what had been thrown into the room when I was in the bathroom. After unzipping it, he pulled out some lengths of rope and walked over to me with an arrogant smirk on his face.

  “Now the fun begins, sweetness.”

  I stared at the ceiling, thinking that I was so screwed. If he managed to tie me up, the chances of escape would wither down to zero. I was going to have to act soon.

  If only he’d put the damn gun down.

  Even as he wound the first length of rope around one of my wrists he still held the weapon, as if he knew I would try something the moment he put it down.

  The rope bit into my wrist as he wound it around twice and then made a knot to keep it in place, pulling it as tight as he could.

  “Please, you don’t have to do this. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t tie me up.”

  John balked. “As sweet as it is to hear you beg, my darling, I don’t think so. If there is one thing I’ve learnt over the years, it’s to never trust a woman, especially one who’ll do and say anything to save herself. I’m onto your little game. Nothing you say to me makes a shred of difference. This isn’t about you. This is about me. I’m claiming what’s mine as your husband, you filthy little whore.”

  Gun or no gun, I’m going to have to try my best to fight my way out of this before I’m totally incarcerated. There’s no other choice. Draw on that inner strength, Dakota, and go for it.

  As John pulled on the end of rope and was about to tie it to the bedpost, I turned to my side, and with my free hand, I formed a fist and punched it as hard as I could into the side of his face, taking him unaware, causing him to let go of the rope and fall backwards off the bed.

  I wasted no time and was over the side of the bed before he could get up. I scanned the vicinity for the gun but realized he must be lying on it.

  Without waiting or thinking, I slammed the heel of my foot into his face, feeling his nose crack under the impact.

  John cried out as he grabbed my leg and pulled me down onto the floor with him. “You fucking stupid bitch! You broke my fucking nose! For that you’re going to pay.”

&nb
sp; I landed, naked, half on top of him and half on the carpet with my face down. John, ignoring the blood gushing from his nose, pushed me over onto my back, bringing his own fist into my face again and again. Pain exploded in my left eye and cheek, the eye swelling shut instantly. I heard another crack and didn’t know whether it was John’s knuckle breaking or my cheekbone.

  “What the fuck did you do that for? I bring you here for a nice romantic getaway and this is the thanks I get? Well, no more Mister Nice Guy. You want to play rough? Well, that’s fine by me, sweets. You know I like it rough.”

  I cried out from the agony in my face, not caring at that point if I was going to die. Adrenalin and survival mode took over. Nothing else mattered except for getting the monster off me. Unable to use my legs because I was pinned beneath him, there was only my head and one arm free. I had to use whatever was available.

  Blood from John’s broken nose was dripping onto my face, merging with my own. I felt like I was going to black out but kept fighting, bringing my right hand up to his throat in an attempt to strangle him. I screamed as I used all my might to squeeze the life out of him, trying to push forward at the same time to get him off me. When he didn’t budge, I brought my face forward and bit his chin. Hard. The flesh ripped and the metallic taste of blood oozed into my mouth. That seemed to do the trick. His body rolled to the side as he clutched his chin. He howled.

  It gave me the opportunity to try and scramble over to the door. My left eye was totally fused shut and my head felt like lead. The pounding was so severe in my skull I was sure it would explode. My fingers clawed at the carpet, trying to get traction. The door was only another three feet away. Freedom was near. My mind screamed at me to move faster but my body was letting me down.

  “No, you don’t! You’re not getting away this time.” John seized both my legs and pulled me back. The carpet burned my skin from my breasts to my knees.

  “Let me go! I hate you!” Never before had I said that to his face for fear of his reaction but that didn’t matter now. I was going to unload the burden that had bound me in chains for years. “You’re mental, that’s what you are! You beat me! I was supposed to be your wife and you treated me like a punching bag. Not to mention the cigarette burns that have scarred me for life!” I was shouting now. The gate had opened, and if I was going to die on this floor, I wanted him to hear the truth. “What sort of a husband does that to his wife? You’re sick and so fucking pathetic! Real men don’t hit their wives, or anyone for that matter!”

  My whole body was twisting and turning, trying to pry free from his vise-like grip.

  “All you had to do was let me go and be happy, but no, that wasn’t enough for you. You had to nearly kill my father and then come over here to make my life miserable.”

  I was trying to suck in air. My energy levels were at rock bottom from the struggle. Tears fell, some red from my bloodied, swollen eye.

  John laughed like the lunatic he was, seemingly amused by my outburst. “You dishonored our wedding vows and you think I’m the bad guy? What happened to honor and obey till death do us part? Or were they just words to you, because I sure as hell took them seriously?”

  He turned me over again and punched me in the breast at least five times. My head rolled to the side, where I let out a strangled cough before slipping into oblivion.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kyle

  Frantic was an understatement. It was now four o’clock in the afternoon and all I’d done since arriving back at the new house with Daniel was pace from room to room. Dad had arrived at the apartment as he’d promised but there was little he could do apart from offer comfort. After an hour or so of banging our heads together in an attempt to figure something out, we’d come up with nothing. My father returned home to see what Mike could do for us and I’d locked up the apartment for the final time.

  So, here I was. No better off. Nothing to go on. Sleep deprived and distraught. How could I keep this up until the police found anything? It could be too late by then. I needed to be doing something to help.

  Damn! It was frustrating. I had nothing to go on. No actual evidence apart from Dakota’s handbag, bracelet, and car. Those three things would hardly be called evidence as such, but they were enough in my mind to know something was terribly wrong. Where was she? Had John taken her?

  If so, he’d obviously been watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. A time when she let her guard down and went out alone. If he had her, I knew she was in real trouble.

  John was obviously traveling under a false alias because there was no way the federal police would have let him leave Australia with a warrant for his arrest over the brutal attack on Dakota’s father.

  Even if he did show up on video footage from that morning, it was going to be impossible to find him if he was using a different name. Bastard!

  I strode downstairs into the large kitchen and pulled a can of Coke from the fridge, opening it, and taking a long swig. I moved to the living room to sink down into the soft cushions on the sofa, running a hand over my face.

  Moving day and I wasn’t even able to celebrate it with her. Today was supposed to be the beginning of our new life together, not the end. I didn’t want to remember the day we moved as the day I lost her. I knew what it was like to lose her once. I didn’t want to live through that again. I couldn’t.

  When my cell buzzed, I jumped, hurriedly fishing it out of my jeans pocket, praying it was Dakota calling from a payphone. I looked at the screen. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Officer Clarke.”

  “Have you found her?” I wasn’t in the mood for formalities.

  “Well, no sir, but I managed to get the video footage from the apartment complex and I’ve had my men run through it to see if there was anything out of the ordinary.”

  Pain stabbed me in the chest as I fought for my breath. “And?”

  “Well, I’m officially going to look into this case. It appears a man entered the building this morning from the basement and was able to take the elevator to the top floor, meaning he had security clearance. He then proceeded to enter your apartment and stay there for around ten minutes before exiting with a woman I can only assume is Dakota Livingston. The man appeared to be holding something towards Ms. Livingston, which we are assuming may have been a weapon.”

  Fuck! I didn’t say it to the officer but I thought it over and over in my head as I sat erect on the couch. Crazy thoughts were racing at a million miles an hour through my brain. It was hard to listen to the rest of the call.

  “The subject then proceeded to return to his SUV in the basement and exited the building with Ms. Livingston. We managed to enhance the footage and get the license plate, which we’re running through the system now. I’m sorry there’s not better news.”

  I stood, desperation tightening its hold on me. “So what happens now? You can’t file the report until the morning but that may be too late. This guy she’s with is her ex-husband, I’m sure. He’s unstable and capable of murder.” It was deplorable to even think of.

  “I understand your concern. We’re no longer looking at this as a missing person case but I’m upscaling it to a possible abduction. I’ve got my team trying to trace the owner of the vehicle. If it’s a rental, then at least it will give us a name.”

  “He won’t be using his real name of John Hansford. He’ll be using a fake one. He’s wanted by the Australian Federal Police.”

  “What for?”

  “Assault.”

  “Are John and Dakota divorced?”

  “No. Not yet. It hasn’t been made official. John hasn’t signed the papers.”

  “So, I’m assuming Ms. Livingston is using her maiden name?”

  “Yes. Ever since I’ve known her she’s gone under her birth name. I guess she didn’t want to be associated with the name Hansford after she left him.”

  “Okay, I’m taking down those details now. I’ll get in contact
with the Australian Police and give them a heads up. See if they can give us any more information. I’ll keep you posted. Call me if you think of anything else.”

  “Thank you, Officer. Will do.”

  I hung up and threw my cell on the couch, standing, not knowing if I wanted to punch something, throw up, or cry. I just wanted Dakota home where she belonged. When would all this torture stop? When that fucker was dead! Only then would our lives return to normal. He had been the cause of everything so far and I damn well wasn’t going to sit idly by and wait for the police to do their job. It could all be over by then. That wasn’t going to happen. When I heard a noise behind me, I pivoted and saw Daniel at the entrance to the living room, wide-eyed. He’d obviously heard my cell and come down, hoping it was news about Dakota.

  He walked over to where I stood. “Any news?”

  How much should I share with the boy? I didn’t want to go into great detail and have him worry any more than he already was. “The security footage showed Dakota leaving with a man I believe is her ex-husband, John.” That was all I was prepared to offer for now.

  Daniel shook his head. “This is not good. He’ll hurt her. We have to do something!”

  A haunted look clouded Daniel’s eyes as if he was trying to fight some of his own demons. I moved over closer to the boy and put an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll do everything in my power to bring her home, I promise. I know how much she means to you.”

  Daniel nodded but remained silent as he pressed his lips together. “What are you going to do?”

  I didn’t know at that point but it had to be something. Should I call my dad yet? Should I start searching? Where, though? It would be to no advantage until I had a lead to go on. Sitting and waiting would drive me insane. “I’m not sure yet, champ, but I’ll think of something.”

  Chapter Thirteen