Stripped: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Brook Wilder

  “Hey, are you with me, back there?” Simon asked, turning to look behind him again.

  “I’m with you,” Della said rather compassionately.

  “Al was the only way I could get to you,” Simon said. “And if that’s what it took to get you to hear me out, then so be it!”

  Della held her head in her hands. Suddenly, she could feel a pain shoot up her neck. The headache was unbearable. She began to sob.

  “Della, baby, you’re not crying are you?” Simon asked. It was bizarre the way his tone could go from menacing to empathetic. “I need you to listen to me, I didn’t do this for me, I did it for us,” he said. Della looked up and her surroundings were still the same; a never ending desert road. It was torture. “I’ve worked hard on this, you know. I’ve been planning for quite some time now,” he said. “Meeting Al on a regular basis has’t been an easy thing.”

  Della looked up. “And where did you meet him?” she asked, feigning interest.

  “Never in town, if that’s what you’re asking,” Simon replied. “I have to be careful, I’m not stupid!” he continued. The car kept skidding slightly off the road as Simon muttered things to himself, things Della couldn’t understand. She just wished she could open the door and throw herself out of the car. She thought about waiting for any car to drive past them so she could roll down her window and scream. But she knew it was too big of a risk. Besides, the road was completely deserted. A part of her finally understood why some murders never get solved; there was no way anyone could get caught doing anything out there. She slowly peered over Simon’s shoulder. The car was running out of gas. There was no way this man knew what he was doing. He was a puppet, an instrument for Al to use to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was Prescott.

  Please know what you’re doing, please be one step ahead of them, Della thought to herself. She prayed to God Prescott knew about her, that he was out looking for her right now. Please be careful, she thought again. She leaned back in her seat throwing her head back and letting out a moan. “Why are you doing this?!” she asked Simon, who stomped on the brakes. Della felt her body thrust forward as the car slowed down to a halt at the side of the road.

  “That’s it,” Simon said, popping the car door open and going back to his trunk.

  Shit, Della thought, realizing she had pissed him off. There really was no telling what he could do at this point. Simon pulled out the roll of duct tape again, swinging Della’s door open and taping her mouth shut again.

  “This ought to shut you up,” he said, pressing the duct tape to her mouth. She cried out in pain as Simon pinched at her cheeks, his eyes growing wide as he leaned in towards her.

  “Stop!” she mumbled, kicking at the front seat. Simon took a step back, eyeing her as she struggled. His face was red and his hands were balled up into fists.

  “If you had just gotten with me, none of this would have happened!” he yelled, flaring his nostrils. “You just had to fight it, you had to ruin everything!” At that point, his face was only inches from hers. She could feel the humidity of his breath on her, and she flinched in disgust. “What’s wrong, huh?” Simon asked, not moving. “Are you scared? Do you want to run?” he asked.

  Della just shivered in her place. It was like Simon anticipated some sort of a reaction from her but he wasn’t getting it, and it frustrated him. “Do you want to run?” he asked again, his eyes fixated on Della’s.

  Della shook her head. Tears were gathering in her eyes and she was beginning to feel out of breath.

  “Why are you crying?” Simon spat. “You’re the one who did this, not me! If you had just let it happen, none of this would’ve happened!” he said, brushing a hand through her hair. “There, there, it’s all going to be okay once you get to see things more clearly. Only then you’ll realize how important I am to you, how everything else is just a lie. Your relationship with Prescott is a lie.”

  Della couldn’t take it anymore. She turned around and kicked at Simon with her feet. He was ambushing her, and she needed to put him in his place. “Why are you doing this?!” she mumbled, tears streaming down her face.

  “Why am I doing this?” Simon asked, glaring at her. “It’s because of your fucking choices, Della! You just had to go ahead and start dating a fucking gang member, you biker whore!”

  “Don’t you call me a whore!” Della muttered, her eyes locked on Simon’s. But he didn’t move. He was pressed up against her, eyeing her as she squirmed away in utter disgust.

  Suddenly, Simon took a step back, sliding his hand into his pocket. The gun? Della thought to herself, her eyes growing wide as she watched him retreat to the back of his car again, popped the trunk open and searched through the junk he kept inside. Della struggled in her seat, trying to think of ways she could escape. The car wasn’t moving anymore. Her hands and her feet were untied, and she could easily make a run for it. But she knew Simon had a gun. He would take her out in a second. It was true that, in some twisted way, Simon loved Della. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go haywire and shoot her if she tried to do something crazy. Della turned around, gawking at Simon as he took something out of his trunk and kept it open. He leaned in through the window, his lips coming to a smile as a blade appeared in his hands.

  “Oh my God,” Della said, shrinking away in the back seat as Simon forced himself in the space next to her, the knife dancing in his hands.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted, Della? To be with someone bad?” he asked, pointing the knife at her.

  Della cried out in horror, her voice muffled under the tape. Her eyes were darting from Simon, to the blade, and then to Simon again. The look on his face was sick. His eyes were fixated on the blade’s edge, which shined in the light of day. Della couldn’t believe what she was seeing, that murderous look on his face. He wasn’t just a stalker, but a person capable of killing someone. And that someone was her. Or Prescott. Or both. Della clenched her eyes as she imagined the blade going through her stomach. She squealed as Simon shifted in his place, holding the knife up and just gawking at it.

  “Oh, don’t be scared,” he said, his head cocked to the side. Suddenly, he turned around and threw the knife to the ground, stomping on it. There was a silence. It was really hard for Della to anticipate Simon’s moves, so she just sat there, quivering in her place. It’s not like she had much of a choice, anyway. She eyed Simon as he reached into the little compartment in front of the passenger seat and took out his phone, sitting back next to Della and flashing her a coy smile. “You know what I’m going to do now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Della didn’t answer. “Look here,” he said as he handed his phone over to her. Della felt her heart skip a beat when she saw Prescott’s name flash across her screen. “I’m going to call him now, maybe even get you to talk to him,” Simon hissed, dialing Prescott’s number and putting him on speakerphone.

  Della could feel the sweat trailing down her forehead as she listened to the dial-tone. Prescott picked up almost immediately. “Hello?” she heard him say. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad to know he was okay, for the time being, at least. She leaned into the phone, but didn’t say anything. She was too scared to. “Hello?” Prescott said again. “Who is this?”

  “Hello, Prescott,” Simon said, his voice sinister. “What, don’t you recognize my voice?” he asked, licking his lips.

  “Prescott!” Della mumbled suddenly. She couldn’t help herself; just hearing Prescott’s voice made her want to break down. She needed him to rescue her, but it was really him that needed to be rescued.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Simon snapped.

  “Della, Della is that you?” Prescott asked, his voice distant.

  Della looked at Simon, who put one finger to his lips. “It’s all about the suspense,” he hissed. “You gotta keep ‘em guessing.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Prescott yelled. “I’m going to fucking kill you, where have you taken her? Answer me!” he said. Prescott was desperate. He needed all the info
rmation he could get, anything to tell him where Della was. But he knew her kidnapper wouldn’t say anything. “What do you need?” Prescott asked, suddenly calmer. “Just tell me what you need.”

  “Oh, you don’t know what I need?” Simon asked, his lips coming to a smile. “Of course you don’t,” he continued. “You only know one side of all of this.”

  “What do you mean?” Prescott demanded. “Who are you? Tell me!”

  “It’s Simon, Prescott. Do you remember me?” he asked, chuckling.

  There was a silence on the other end. Della knew what this silence meant; Prescott was in a state of disbelief. It was like his entire world was tumbling down, like everyone had been conspiring against him. Even the most irrelevant of characters turned out to be the villains in this story. What was next? “Simon,” Prescott said finally.

  “No orders,” Simon interrupted him. “You were going to give me orders, weren’t you? Or were you going to threaten me? Either way, you can’t do that right now. You are only to follow our instructions,” he spat into the phone.

  “And what would those instructions be?” Prescott asked, trying to contain himself. He knew that getting angry wouldn’t get him anywhere. In fact, he knew it would only make things worse. The fact that Al had used such a vulnerable human being to his own advantage was beyond Prescott, but, then again, it was never unlike Al to do such a horrible thing. The man was a criminal, and he had it in him to do whatever it took to eliminate Prescott, to wipe him off the face of this planet...Even if that meant killing a mother and her unborn child.

  “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Simon whispered. “The best is yet to come.”

  “You bastard! Tell me where you are!” Prescott snapped. He could hear Della mumbling in the background. Was she trying to get his attention? He could tell her mouth was taped, or that she was restrained in some kind of way. “Della, Della where are you?” he asked.

  But Della didn’t answer. She didn’t even know where they were.

  “Do you really think it’s wise to answer this question?” Simon asked, his eyes fixated on Della. She was slumped in her seat, not saying anything. Whenever she would try to mumble, to say something that Prescott could hear, Simon would glare at her, and she would remain quiet.

  Prescott was going crazy. On the one hand, Simon still hadn’t hung up, which meant he was waiting for some kind of reaction from Prescott. But on the other hand, the conversation was going nowhere; no instructions, no commands. A part of Prescott believed that Simon was just enjoying this power trip. He was unstable, after all, and Prescott knew he had to handle him with care. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked, calmer this time.

  “Oh, I very much am,” Simon said, a smile plastered to his face. Della just watched him, shaking her head as he searched for words to say. It was obvious to her that he had nothing to say at all. He had called just to taunt Prescott, that’s all he wanted.

  Prescott was losing his patience. “Listen,” he said. “I’ll give you what you want, just don’t hurt her.”

  “Oh, but I can’t guarantee that, can I?” Simon asked, raising an eyebrow at Della. “I mean, Della is quite beautiful, I don’t see how I’ll be able to get my hands off her while you’re away..”

  “You son of a bitch!” Prescott growled. At that point, he had lost all his patience. He wanted to know where Della was, and he wanted to know right now. “Tell me where you are, or I swear to God I will rip you to shreds the minute I lay eyes on you.”

  “Are you sure you want to make such a threat?” Simon asked. “With Al and the rest of his men waiting for you?”

  Again, there was a silence. Prescott knew it wasn’t the wisest thing to cuss out Al right now. For all he knew, Al could be sitting right there next to Simon, listening in on the whole conversation, watching Prescott suffer. “Just don’t hurt her,” he said finally. “Please.”

  “Oh, I won’t hurt her,” Simon said. “I just... I just want to make her mine.”

  Prescott felt like he was about to lose his mind. There he was, listening to his girlfriend’s kidnapper talk about how obsessed he was with her, and how he’d do anything to be with her. He was holding her against her will, and she was pregnant. So much was at stake here; Prescott knew he needed to move, and he needed to move fast. But where would he start? The pair were in the middle of nowhere, even Della didn’t know where the hell she was. “Get Della on the phone,” Prescott demanded, suddenly furious. “Get her on the phone right now.”

  Simon paused for a second, scratching his chin. “You know, I wasn’t actually considering it, but now I sort of am,” he said. “Might be fun to watch the two of you go crazy together,” he continued, his lips curving to a smile. “Here,” he said, handing the phone over to Della. She just gawked at him, motioning for him to untape her mouth.

  Simon ripped the tape off Della’s face. Immediately, she began to scream. “Help, Prescott, I don’t know where he’s taking me, I don’t-”

  “Shut up!” Simon groaned, slapping Della across the face. She could feel an immediate pain shoot through her, and she held her hand to her cheek, trying to armor herself from any additional attempts to hurt her. “Are you fucking insane?” Simon yelled angrily. “Didn’t I tell you not to do anything stupid?”

  “Della, Della, did he hurt you? Are you okay?” Prescott asked, terrified.

  “Don’t answer that,” Simon said. “If you utter another word, I swear to God, I will kill you, and your baby.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  “That son of a bitch!” Prescott said, throwing his phone onto the couch and crouching down on the floor. He curled up in a ball, held his head in his hands and rocked back and forth, like he was having a panic attack. Shaft turned around and began pacing the room.

  “There has to be some way we could find them,” he said, his jaw clenched. Shaft hated seeing Prescott like this. He was normally very calm and collected. He could handle anything. But this time, it was all too much to take.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Prescott said, getting up. His hands were clasped behind his head, and he could feel a throbbing pain in his temples. He was losing it. “Al, you bastard!” Prescott screamed out the window. “You better show yourself!” He turned to the wall and, without thinking, started punching it repeatedly.

  “Prescott, Prescott, stop!” Shaft said, clutching at his shirt and pulling him back. “You can’t do this to yourself!”

  Prescott stepped away from the wall, his hands still balled up into fists. Shaft shook his head as his eyes landed on Prescott’s knuckles, which were now white and bleeding. His face was red, his veins were bulging and his eyes were bloodshot. “I can’t,” he breathed. “I don’t have a plan, Shaft! Am I just supposed to sit around and wait? What am I supposed to do?” he asked, his eyes fixated on Shaft’s.

  Shaft didn’t know what to say. His closest friend was suffering with the uncertainty of the entire situation slowly driving him insane. Shaft’s eyes landed on a blanket crumpled up on the couch. When Prescott realized he had been staring at it, he walked over to him, picked the blanket off the cushion and handed it to him.

  “Here,” Prescott said. “Use this for your leg.”

  “Thanks,” Shaft said, grabbing the blanket and trying it around his leg. He clenched his eyes as he felt the throbbing pain shoot up his thigh again.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Prescott asked, a look of concern on his face.

  “I’m fine,” Shaft said, tightening the piece of fabric around his leg. “Just gotta stop the bleeding.” The two men sat in silence, Shaft patching up his leg while Prescott paced the room back and forth. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

  Prescott ran downstairs and swung the door open. It was Kate. Prescott opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she barged inside, looking him up and down as he stood there, not saying anything. “Where’s Della?” she hissed, her eyes fixated on him.

  Prescott felt a weig
ht being dropped on his chest. He stumbled a few steps back, brushing a hand through his hair. “I, I don’t know,” he said. The truth was, he couldn’t look Kate in the eye. He was disappointed in himself for giving her such a vague answer. But he knew that nothing and no one in the world could stop Kate from blowing up in his face, after all, she was against this whole thing from the get-go.