I flinch when he opens his mouth and says, “You stay here. I d-d-don’t want you going anywhere but I’m going to g-get some friends for what I have in store for you.” He is cackling as he says this.
All the hair on my body is standing on end. This guy is really not all there if he thinks I can get away in the condition I’m in? Like I can move? I can’t breathe on my own let alone get the hell out of here, and where the hell is here? I’m trembling as these thoughts go through my head. I’m done, defeated, especially after his next words.
“I w-w-wasn’t g-g-going to have sex with you, but I ch-ch-changed my mind,” my captor tells me. “B-but my friends sh-sh-ould be here too,” he says with conviction.
I can’t do this, I just can’t. I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive what’s coming. I don’t understand why he wants me when I’m filthy, swollen and bloody. Then I remember something I’d heard about rape, it’s not about the sex, it’s about power, but still, all I can smell is the tangy rust of blood and urine, and all of that through my busted up nose. In other words, I reek and this guy wants to have sex with me. Ugh.
I’m trembling and can barely hold my head up the fatigue is overwhelming me. The slightest movements cause me to whimper in pain. I gasp when I see him take a large knife out of his bag. God, oh no. Please. Please. I just want to go home. I want my mom. I need divine intervention to get through this, I know I’m going to die horribly, especially when I peer into his bag and see more knives, some pliers, a wrench and a hammer. Every item in that bag is bloody and has bits of skin and God knows what else stuck to them.
My breath is hitching, and my chest hurting, tears coursing down my face, silently. I’m going to be sick to my stomach all over again, but I don’t think there is anything left in it. I gag and retch, but nothing comes up. My throat is raw, sore from all the retching. My stomach is tight and empty, and burns feeling hollow. I want to beg for my life, but I sense that this won’t help me, and that it might actually turn him on more.
He pulls the knife up in front of my face, waving it back and forth as he smiles. He tells me I deserve what’s coming to me, and I shouldn’t be so high and mighty and stuck up. Is he talking about me? That’s the last thing people would say about me, I’m nice and kind. Maybe he has the wrong person? I’m trying to be optimistic.
I tell him that I think he has the wrong person, but he shakes his head, laughing at me. He pulls the knife up the front of my body, piercing through the skin, rivulets of blood running down my body. I don’t want to, but a whimper escapes me, which only causes him to smile even wider.
I watch in horror as his eyes grow big while he watches the blood leave my body. “Oh yea” he breaths, “Look at that, oh fuck yeah, I’m going to f-f-fuck you up g-good and c-c-um all over your tits and f-f-face,” he says while rubbing his free hand through all the blood and spreading it over my body “You’re nothing but a stupid b-b-itch and you deserve every little last bit of this.”
He licks his lips and rubs his other hand over his cock. “D-d- damn this is going to be so g-g-g-ood. You stay right there, you hear? I’m going to grab me a few f-f-friends and we’ll be back to finish this little game.” He claps his hands in glee.
I’m crying as he runs away, laughing hysterically the entire time. I can’t breathe, or move. Maybe if I give myself a minute then I’ll be able to get out of here. I only want to close my eyes for a minute, but have no idea how much time has passed when my head jerks and bobs on my neck, and I realize I’ve dozed off. No! I’m so stupid, what was I thinking? I only wanted a quick minute, to gather some strength. I can’t die here, in the middle of nowhere.
I try to move and groan loudly when I feel a sharp pain in my ribs. I can’t seem to pull in a deep breath, nor am I able to move and I can barely see out of my eyes they are so swollen. I need to face it, I’m fucked. I drop my head to my chest, tears running down my face, defeated.
That’s when I notice them. Two very large black boots, attached to very large feet, and very large legs. Did I say large? I mean huge. He has a large knife strapped to the side of his thigh, one across his chest, and what looks to be one stuck into the side of his boot. I squint and try to see more but I’m unable to as my eyes are almost swollen shut.
Oh Fuck. Are they back to finish me off? I hoped for more time, but it’s too late now. I need to fight, I need to do something, beg even. What do I have to lose at this point?
I take as deep a breath as my body will allow. “Peesh dohn hurr me,” I slur out. I don’t know if it’s all the swelling or the large amounts of blood in my mouth, but I can’t seem to speak clearly.
No sooner are the words out of my mouth, when I hear running and my captor call out: “Hey, well I see you f-f-found my g-g-gal,” he stutters, “We can t-t-take it from here.”
My whole body is shaking, trembling in fear, but also due to the cool night air. I’m naked, covered in blood and filth and surrounded by a group of rough and ready men with my crazy captor at the helm.
Things are not looking up for me.
It had been touch and go for a bit. We kept a tight eye on our crazy guy, but then suddenly it was like he had dropped off the face of the planet and we couldn’t track him, because our trackers failed, but we had audio. It was just by sheer luck that Carter had caught sight of his taillights far up ahead, that we were able to find her, but we were about ten minutes behind. Which meant we heard every little thing this sick fuck did to her. He fucking tortured her, and for that I want to gut the fucker.
My girl is a fighter. My girl? I think to myself. There’s that thought again, where is that thought coming from? I don’t know what it is about this woman, but she is pulling out every protective instinct I’ve ever had. I want to take care of her, and hold her, make her feel safe again. She’s just a tiny scrap of a thing, but strong. Her beautiful face is so swollen, that I’m not sure her own mother would recognize her. She’s been through some heavy shit. We don’t know what we are walking into so I left Deacon and Carter behind, until I assess the situation. No sense in all of us stepping into direct danger if we can be smart and avoid it.
I grit my teeth and shake my head as I look her over. This courageous brave woman is naked, bruised, swollen and covered in blood and God knows what else. Her hair is filthy and literally looks as if some rats might be nesting in there. Her beautiful eyes are swollen almost entirely shut, and her lip is huge and split. Based on the odd angle of her nose, it appears to be broken and I would guess from the way she is holding herself that she has several cracked, if not broken, ribs. All I can smell is the sharp rusty tang of blood and piss. My heart pinches for this little woman, she’s taken quite the beating and I don’t blame her for pissing on herself one bit. She has more courage than some men I know.
I take all this in, in less than a minute. I don’t know if she’s recognized me or not, but I can’t take any chances. I need to get this guy on my side and by doing that I could alienate her. I’m doing it for her. For her safety. Crazy guy is bouncing from foot to foot, desperate to get to Savannah. That’s not going to happen, he’ll have to kill me first. I need to play into this guy’s crazy, get him thinking I’m on his side. All along, we heard that he intends to kill her. Rape her first, then kill her. He keeps referring to his “boss,” and the “boss,” wants her dead. So here goes nothing.
“Hey man, nice to meet you,” I say while holding my hand out to him. “I see you’ve got your hands full with this one. Looks like she needs to be taught a lesson,” I finish through gritted teeth.
Fuck it makes me sick to talk like this. Even though I knew I wasn’t being sincere, it still makes my skin crawl, but I have to pull it together for Savannah, she needs me. Needs us.
I can tell that our crazy guy here is intimidated by me, but is trying to act like he can totally take me if he wants to. That thought alone makes me chuckle quietly to myself. What a stupid little fucker.
I’m not sure he’s buying what I’m saying because he
says, “So, as I s-s-said to you, I’m so g-g-lad you f-f-found my girl, but I can take it from here. I just went to grab my friends and we’re ready to get this party started.”
He’s talking faster and faster, his nerves getting the best of him. I am fighting the urge to slap the fucking stutter right out of him. Fucking prick. My patience is running thin as I look at him and watch his mouth open again, as he tries not to stutter, but is failing miserably. “You’re w-w-welcome to join us if you’d l-like,” he throws in, maybe hoping I’ll politely turn down his offer and go on my merry way.
It’s not your lucky day, buddy. “Well dude,” I say while scratching my chin, “it’s really thoughtful of you to invite me to the party, but see, the party is over and I’m going to take over.” The boys he had found all shuffled their feet, looking at each other nervously. “I see that you got her all primed, but I don’t share well, so I’ll take it from here” I say authoritatively.
I’ve pissed the little fucker off, and I almost want to laugh out loud as his stutter worsens, along with his frustration. “You think y-y-ou–c-ccan take us?” Buddy asks as he puffs up his chest and points at his buddies. “You and w-w-what army”? He’s laughing, and they start laughing, right along with him.
That’s when my brothers step out of the shadows. Individually, we’re impressive, but as a group we’re down-right fucking intimidating. “That army” I say with a low chuckle.
I turn to stare him down while he nervously bites his lower lip. It looks like he wants to argue with me, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. That’s when I utter the magic words, “I know the boss wants her dead,” just saying the words makes me shudder, “I’ll make sure of it.” Those words cause the woman at my feet to whimper and I want to rush and reassure her it’s all a lie, a ruse, so this guy will beat feet, but I can’t do that, not until he leaves. I’m unbending and the sooner this guy understands that, the better off he’ll be.
I’m watching him, motionless as he looks at me, totally shocked. “Y-y-you know the b-b-boss”? He asks in awe.
I nod my assent, my arms folded across my chest. This seems to make him really happy, and I watch as he nods his head while walking backwards, away from us. Deacon quickly grabs his arms, and puts him in cuffs before he can get any further. He seems confused, not understanding what is happening and I have to remind myself that this man has a mental illness. A severe one, at that. I know where this is headed, and it won’t be jail time. He’ll plead insanity and be put into a psychiatric facility. That’s all well and good while he is under their care and taking his meds, but it’s when he’s released that’s when stats show he’ll likely stop taking his meds and fall back into his schizophrenia and back into a life of crime. It’s a shame really, but so far no one has figured out a way to fix the system, and boy is it broke. Deacon and Carter put the rest of the guys in cuffs while we wait on the police to arrive. They are on the way, and the whole lot of them deserve jail time.
I look back down at my feet, and want to scream in rage, seeing her trembling at my feet in fear. I know I had to do it, but I feel like a total dick. I don’t want her believing that I will hurt her. I bend down to pick her up, she feels like she weighs next to nothing. I pull her to me, and whisper assurances in her ear, telling her that I didn’t mean any of those words and that I’m here to help her. She whimpers, and curls into me as I murmur, “Shhh, I’ve got you,” as my heart squeezes tight in my chest.
We need to get this woman some medical attention, and fast.
I groan as I try and open my eyes, sucking a breath as sharp pain courses through my body. I can hear steady beeping and quiet murmurs along with the smell of antiseptic. I’m pretty sure I’m in a hospital. My lips are trembling and my eyes fill with tears my entire body racked with emotion. I made it. Oh my God, I’m safe. I did it, I got out of there. I remember seeing large boots, and then being lifted into strong arms and feeling safe and secure. I try and move, sucking in a sharp breath, it feels like every single bone and muscle in my body is screaming at me to lie still. Unfortunately my bladder is screaming louder and is becoming almost painful in its urgency.
I try to sit up and look at my surroundings, my right eye is swollen shut, but I can see a bit through my left. I’m finally able to pull myself into a sitting position when I hear, “Hey Peanut, take it easy there.”
I flinch as the voice seems to have come out of nowhere, but my body already recognizes what my mind is taking it’s time to believe, then the nickname registers. I slowly turn my aching body and notice the large man from the night before, my savior. The same man from the club turned friend, Reid. Only this time I can see more than just his boots and legs. Holy crap he is hot. He’s still wearing what he was last night which is essentially SWAT like gear including a holster strap on his thigh, outlining just how massive his legs really are. I didn’t really think about it when I saw him at the club, and at his place of business, but he is really tall, I’m guessing he’s about 6’6,” and he’s all muscle. His hair is shaved close to his head, but appears to be dirty blonde in color, but it’s his eyes that are mesmerizing. They’re a deep blue with a ring of turquoise, reminding me of the ocean. His face is covered in stubble and he looks exhausted. I’m embarrassed that he’s seeing me in this condition, preferring that he remember me the way I was the night at the club. I’m feeling breathless and out of my depth. My harsh breathing has nothing to do with my injuries and everything to do with the man standing in front of me. He stares at me with an intensity I find almost uncomfortable, but I’m not sure why. I’m experiencing feelings that I’ve never felt before, hot and tingly, especially my lady bits. I thought I had shaken that damn flu, but apparently not.
“Where are you off to Peanut”? He rasps.
Fuck, even his voice is sexy. I squeeze my legs together, to try and alleviate the throbbing, but it’s no use. I’m sure he can tell how he’s affecting me, I’m sitting here in a thin hospital gown with nipples so hard they could poke your eyes out. Sheesh woman. Way to come off as calm and sophisticated. I shake my head to rid myself of my silly thoughts when I notice him looking at me with one eyebrow arched as if to say: Well?
I clear my throat and say, “Oh, ahem, sorry about that, I need to use the bathroom, but I can barely move OR see,” I whine.
“Let’s remedy that,” he says chuckling.
I watch, wary, as he approaches and lifts me up to carry me into the bathroom. He is so strong, yet so gentle with my injuries, holding me carefully. He slowly lets me down and holds me tight ’til my feet touch the ground, my body sliding down his. He cups my face in one of his large, capable hands and just looks at me.
Finally, he breaks the silence, “Do you need my help?”
I’m startled, but not enough to stop me from saying, “No thanks,” while I shut the door in his face. I can hear him chuckling from the other side of the door, and I can’t help smiling, the split in my lip ripping open again. I finish up and wash my hands, looking into the mirror gasping loudly at what I see, almost crumbling at the sight staring back at me. My face is misshapen, I’m so swollen and disfigured. Will I ever look like myself again? I need to pull myself together, and stop feeling sorry for myself. Why am I so worried about how I look? I start crying and then I can’t stop. Big gulping wheezing sobs wrack my body, the revulsion taking hold of me. I need to get the feel of dirty, groping hands off of me. I’m frantic, desperate for the shower, as I turn on the taps and step under the spray, ripping at the hospital gown, eager to get it off my body.
I groan in relief as I slowly wash all the blood and filth out of my hair and off my skin. I scrub viciously, desperate to erase the memory of his hands and mouth off of my body. I’m sobbing, I need to get rid of the crawling feeling, even if it means peeling a layer of skin off.
“Off, I need it off, it has to come off,” I don’t even realize I’m chanting. I’m so intent on what I want, that I don’t hear him enter the room. I’m sucking in big gusts of air, t
rying to regain some control, to no avail. The panic feels like it will win, when strong arms come around my body and hold me, calming me.
“Shhhh,” he says while rocking me, “It’s ok Peanut, I’ve got you.” We rock back and forth, his large frame enveloping mine and comforting me. “Let it all out,” he croons, “You’re so courageous and so strong to have endured what you did, but it’s over now. You’re safe.”
I shudder, as the sobs leave my body, his reassurances calming me. I lean back into his embrace and just let my body sag, I’m weak and depleted and his strength can bolster me.
Reid leans his mouth to my ear and murmurs, “So what do you say to going out with me? Considering I’ve already seen you naked,” he says with a little quirk to his smile.
I burst out laughing, letting out an unladylike snort. Just that quick I’ve gone from tears to laughter. This man really knows how to relax me and make me feel calm and safe. With him, I don’t feel like I’m under a microscope of pity. I don’t feel socially inept. I can be me. He treats me, like I expect he treats everyone else, so I don’t wonder where I stand with him. I groan and hold my sides, my ribcage screaming at me.
I adore his smile, as he grins and says, “I’ve been looking for you since we found out you’d been taken.” His raspy voice raises goose bumps over my body. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, again” he says. “I wish it was under different circumstances, like back at Oblivion, but I can’t say that I’m not happy to have met you. Especially considering we’re in the shower together and all,” he says with a cocky smile.
Oh boy. I think my heart just melted. I turn my head so I can see him better and smile. Suddenly I remember I’m naked and I frantically try to cover myself, feeling my body blushing from head to toe my feet slipping on the slick floor. I’m squirming, but he easily grabs my hands and holds them at my side, I’m unable to move but I’m not afraid. I feel safe and secure, I know he won’t hurt me.
Recovered Love Page 9
