Mending Hope (Contemporary Western Romance) (License to Love Series:Book 2)

by Amelia Rose

  He walked around the back of the chair and ripped the tape from her wrists, pulling skin and hair with it and causing her to cry out in pain. As soon as her hands were free she started to pull them in front of her. She would have made a run for it, but halfway up out of the chair she realized that her ankles were still bound and she sank back, desperation threatening to consume her.

  He watched her, amused when he saw the realization spread across her face. He grabbed one of her free arms and when she tried to wrench it away from his grasp he tightened his grip and squeezed mercilessly until she stopped fighting. He pressed her limp arm to the chair as firmly as he possibly could and wrapped the tape around her arm.

  Then he repeated the process with the tape around her calves. Since she had been wearing shorts when he’d taken her, it meant that the flesh on her calves was also stripped bare when the tape was pulled off. She bit her lip this time, making sure that she kept the cry and the tears to herself. He watched her the entire time and she could see the rage starting to simmer in his face when he realized that she was not going to allow him to see her squirm.

  Alyssa continued to rein in her fear and sat straight in the chair, the wooden ridges cutting into her arms that had been taped to the arms of the chair with such force that her muscles were already cramping. Her legs and torso were also taped in the same fashion, trapping her in the chair.

  In her brief contact with him, it had become crystal clear that the more she showed him how upset she was, the more likely he was to do something to feed on that emotion. If she didn’t show fear he was not going to get off and it might take him a little longer to work up the nerve to hurt her. When he turned his back to her for a moment, she moved her wrists back and forth in an attempt to weaken the bond of the tape.

  If she knew anything at all it was that she didn’t have much time before he would come after her, no matter what she did. She only hoped that she was able to get out of here before that happened.

  Sanders turned around, holding something in his hand. Seeing it, a shudder ran through her. Biting down on her tongue she managed to keep the cry lodged in her throat. But she did not know how long she would be able to keep up her brave face and suppress the shivers as they raced through her and began to intensify.

  *

  When he left the farm, Woody drove directly to town. The one thing he hadn’t mentioned to Melinda was that Alyssa’s car had a pretty good oil leak. It had been on his ‘to do’ list for the last few days, since he’d been following her and noticed a small shiny trail.

  The chance he would actually be able to find the trail was a very, very slim one but he had absolutely nothing else to go on. From the amount of blood that he saw at the farm, if it did in fact belong to Sanders, it was unlikely that he would try to leave town before taking care of his wound. Besides Woody had seen the look he had given Clara in the courtroom and he knew that this was a man who was obsessed. He believed the object of his obsession was in Stanhope, so it was unlikely he was going to stray too far.

  Woody thought about the situation as he drove. If he were in this man’s shoes, what would he do? It was a dark world to live in, but he was pretty sure that Sanders had tunnel vision, and that made his movements more predictable. However Woody also knew that Melinda would assume all of these things, as well. Chances were that she had already launched her own manhunt, calling in officers and troopers from the surrounding area.

  Woody passed an old silo and had a sudden beam of inspiration. There were plenty of abandoned dairy farms in the area where someone could easily hide out and have absolute privacy for at least a day or two. It would easily take that long to go through every farm in the countryside. Not to mention that Melinda was bound by the law whereas he was not. He turned down a back road and started driving towards a cluster of old farms on the west side of town.

  If he had to systematically scour all of the abandoned farms in the area, Woody was determined to do just that until he found Alyssa. He pushed on the accelerator and a plume of dust as large as a house shot out from behind his tires as he sped towards the horizon.

  *

  Thirty minutes later Woody pulled out of the driveway of the old Stoneybrook farm and got back onto the highway. He turned down a secondary road that led out to the Garrison property and noticed a shimmering pool of oil on the packed red dirt.

  For a moment he found himself ramping down on the accelerator in an effort to speed to the farm faster, but a second later he pulled his foot back and let the car slowly drift to a stopped position on the side of the road. As he sat in the car he looked up toward the farm and spotted the top of the roof of the building as he climbed out of the car and started the trek through the overgrown pasture.

  As he moved through the dried weeds, he made sure to circle around the back of the farm. He knew that he should make a phone call to Melinda and let her know what he had found, but he didn’t want her to try and dissuade him from going up there himself. When he topped the hill, he saw the tail end of Alyssa’s car sticking out of the back of one of the barn doors. He found himself running to the barn at full speed, and at the last minute he had to remind himself that he couldn’t just bust in through the door without knowing where they were and what was going on. The move would be too reckless and he couldn’t risk anything happening to Alyssa.

  Leaning against the worn brick of the wall and slowly rounding the corner, Woody moved into the building trying to make sure that he kept his back to the wall. At least then if anything were to confront him he would see it coming. He sidestepped into the shadows so that he could round the corner without drawing attention to himself and took a deep breath when nothing came rushing out at him.

  Woody momentarily let his eyes adjust to the shallow lighting as he leaned into the shadows and tried to listen to what else was going on around him. At first there was nothing, but then a sharp shrill scream filled the air and Woody found himself racing across the floor in a blind panic toward her voice. When he got to the barrier wall on one side of the old barn he realized that he didn’t know where she was because he’d been chasing an echo.

  He looked out across the wide empty rows of stalls and barriers, knowing that on the other side of those barriers, there were more walls and more stalls. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down so that he could think his way through this, and realized for the first time how much a dairy farm could look like a maze.

  *

  The scream wrenched from Alyssa’s mouth the instant that Sanders placed the pliers around her pinky finger and squeezed down. Hot, sticky tears trailed down her face and sank below her chin as she struggled to keep herself as calm as possible. She bit into her lips and choked back a sob as he released the pliers and she looked down to where her skin was crumpled into the ridged shape of the tool.

  Blood welled up from the edges of the mark, and Alyssa looked up at the man through teary eyes. She was struggling, holding desperately to everything within her to try and make sure she did not show this man any weakness.

  “I’ll ask you again. Where is Clara?” he demanded as he placed the pliers once again around her pinky, but lower down on the joint this time.

  Alyssa looked down at the tool, anticipating the pain that he was about to administer to her. She knew that, if he wanted to, Sanders could very easily crush her bone or even snap her finger off with it.

  “I’ve already told you,” she yelled, “I don’t know where she is! I don’t track her every move!” She spat at him through clenched teeth. Her fingers twitched as she tried to clench her fingers tightly into a fist to try and avoid the clamp, but he kept the pliers on her pinky and tightened them, turning them just enough to pinch and pull her flesh when she tried to move.

  He stood over her, his menacing smile consuming most of his face while his eyes spoke volumes of exactly how insane he really was. For a moment Alyssa expected flames to pop up in his eyes like one of those old fashioned cartoon characters. He returned the pressure, slowly
pinching together the pliers until her finger was completely wrenched down in their vise-like grip. Alyssa could feel her bone beginning to give way to the intense pressure.

  Alyssa grimaced and stifled a scream. In an attempt to avoid the pain, she squeezed her eyes shut. They were clamped together so tightly that red hot tears started to leak from the corners and trickle down her face. She clamped her teeth together as tightly as she could but still refused to scream out loud.

  When Sanders realized that she wasn’t going to play along with his sadistic game, he slowly released his grip on the pliers and removed them from around her finger. She heard them clatter to the floor the moment before she felt his hands on her face, pulling on her eyelids in an attempt to prise them open. She would not open them, and he leaned down further, trying to get the leverage to pull open her eyes by leaning into her. His rough fingers pushed down into her socket, but she would not give him the satisfaction of opening her eyes. It was the only measure of defiance she had, and she intended to use it to the fullest.

  “You can’t hide from me, bitch!” he shouted over her defiance. “If you don’t open your eyes, I’ll just burn off your eyelids,” he told her in a suddenly relaxed voice, chuckling to himself as he pulled away from her. She could hear a lighter flicking on and off on the other side of the room but she refused to open her eyes. If her doom was going to be at the hands of this mad man, she was not going to willingly witness it.

  Steeling herself against the next onslaught of pain, she pulled up images of Woody to try and comfort her in her self-imposed darkness. In her desperation, she realized that she would do just about anything to be able to see him one more time.

  A tear ran down her cheek.

  Chapter 9

  It had been years since Woody had been inside the old Garrison dairy farm. The building was set up as a series of interconnected stalls in different sections of a barn that was thousands of square feet. It had been the perfect place to party at as a teenager. Now he was grateful for those reckless years during his youth because as he moved through the building he found himself remembering hidden areas and nooks that were perfect for hiding.

  In the second section he came to, he was moving through the stalls when his foot came into contact with something heavy and a loud clanking noise echoed across the room. He stood completely still, his muscles straining to stay in position as he waited to see if he had been heard. After a few moments he heard nothing but he scraped the old hay and dirt out of the way only to see that the noise had come when his foot had made contact with an old metal bucket.

  Woody knew that the bucket was useless but leaning against the wall next to it was something of use, an old pitchfork.

  As he picked it up, Woody noticed that the handle was broken. The wooden remnant was so short that the pitchfork sat on the end of a brittle wooden handle that was only about two foot long. While it was shorter, Woody knew its rusty spikes would at least provide him some protection if he came face to face with Sanders. He had been clearing each section quickly but carefully, making sure to keep his back against the walls and moving through the shadows so as to keep his element of surprise.

  He hadn’t heard Alyssa scream again but even so he moved as fast as he thought he possibly could, hoping with each step that she was okay. As he walked forward he kept his back to the wall. Every few steps he would briefly pause to take a cautious look around and make sure that he hadn’t been spotted.

  When he was within striking distance of the door and barrier separating him from progressing to the third section he heard a man’s voice. He picked up his pace, moving forward now without pausing or checking behind him. As long as he could hear Sanders’ voice, he knew that he would not have to worry about him sneaking up behind him.

  As Woody rounded the corner he immediately stepped into the shadows. He could see Sanders in an open area just ahead of him. Sanders pushed instruments around on a table in front of him, apparently looking through a stack of tools for a specific one. At first, Woody didn’t see Alyssa but when Sanders moved away from the chair, Woody leaned around one of the partitions.

  The instant he saw her, Woody had to stop himself from charging to her side immediately. His fingers gripped the old wooden handle of the pitchfork so tightly that he could feel the splinters begin to crumble into his fingers, but he did not care. As Woody looked around and tried to plan his next move he realized that Sanders was heating up a screwdriver by holding it in the flame of a handheld lighter.

  There wasn’t a straight path to where they were, so instead Woody zigzagged between the stalls, trying to not be spotted as he moved. Sanders continued to heat up the screwdriver and Woody never took his eyes off of him. When he was close enough, he raised the pitchfork up in a defensive posture. He knew that no matter how far away he was, if that heated screwdriver made it anywhere near Alyssa he was going to have to attack.

  Just as he rounded the side of the stall his foot slid in some dirt and hay. The small scuff was barely audible but in the large silent space it echoed. The lighter in Sanders’ hand flickered and fell as he turned to face Woody. At first his eyebrows were raised in surprise that he had been discovered but even as Woody advanced on him he saw the expression morph into a sneer and he began to charge at Woody as well, hot screwdriver thrust out in front of him.

  Woody raised the pitchfork ready to drive it into the man’s chest. Even from where he stood he could see the tear stains trailing down the dirt on Alyssa’s face causing the rage to roar up within him like an inferno. He ran across the short space, pitchfork outstretched like an extension of his arm and lunged toward him.

  A growl of frustration and anger tore across the building, echoing across the open space with such intensity that it sounded as if a wild animal were loose in the building. As Woody rushed toward him, Sanders’ eyes opened widely and the sneer fell. He dodged to the right at the last moment and the pitchfork just barely grazed across the flesh on his left forearm before their bodies came into contact, jarring Woody’s grip and causing the pitchfork to fall to the ground.

  Sanders pressed the screwdriver into Woody’s side. Although Woody could feel it searing into his skin, he had managed to dodge the jab at the last minute. Instead of a direct puncture the screwdriver glanced into his body at an angle, preventing it from deep penetration.

  At the same instance, as if the world was suddenly turning in slow motion, Sanders had managed to drop to the floor and roll out of the way to avoid Woody and the pitchfork.

  Turning around, Woody tried to pick up the pitchfork in the same movement. Instead it slipped from his fingers and he was forced to turn around and face Sanders empty handed. As he ran towards Sanders, Woody’s foot caught the edge of the pitchfork and kicked it over to the side of the room with such force that Woody knew he would not be able to get back to it until he could get the upper hand in the fight.

  Sanders lunged at him again and Woody was able to hit his arm with such force that the screwdriver was flung across the room. It fell near Alyssa and he noticed her jump in her chair. As he was momentarily distracted by his attention on Alyssa, Sanders seized the opportunity to run at him and land a punch on Woody’s stomach.

  Woody felt the air rush out of him and he doubled over. It was then that Woody noticed the bloody paper towels that had been duck taped to Sanders’ side. In one quick move, he managed to turn so that he fell forward onto Sanders and punching him in that damaged area. Then it was Sanders turn to scream as he fell to his knees.

  Woody stumbled away from him and made his way back to where the pitchfork laid in the dirt on the far side of the room. He picked up the weapon and spun around, the pitchfork once again raised out in front of him in case he needed to immediately defend himself.

  When he raised his head he expected to see a madman running at him but there was nothing there. The room was now empty and Woody stood completely still to make sure he wasn’t missing something. The area where he had last fallen during the scuffle showed
a trail of bloody drops and footsteps leading away from the area and toward the back of the room to the previous section of the barn that Woody had come through.

  For a couple of moments he was positive that Sanders was hiding somewhere in the room, and that as soon as he went to help Alyssa he would be charged. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to wait until he was absolutely certain Sanders wasn’t coming back but when he looked at Alyssa’s quiet tear-stained face he knew that he couldn’t wait any longer to rush to her side.

  As he ran across the room to her, he heard the faint sound of an engine turning over and tires crunching over the loose gravel, signaling that Sanders had left for good.

  Alyssa had her eyes squeezed firmly shut, and when he touched her hand she flinched in pain, biting her lip as more tears flowed. He looked down and noticed that her pinky had been horribly mangled and was bleeding in several places.

  “Alyssa,” he breathed. She opened her mouth, but not her eyes. He was worried that she couldn’t open her eyes. “Are you okay? What did he do to you?” Woody whispered to her. When he leaned down, she shut her mouth when he started pulling at the tape to free her hands. When he couldn’t break it with his hands he pulled out his small pocket knife and began to cut on the tape. It was so tightly wound against her flesh that the skin around it was twisted and purple. He worked the blade in and tried to move slowly so as not to accidentally cut her skin.

  “Don’t worry Alyssa. I’m going to have the tape off in just a minute.”

  “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but stop trying to trick me. I’m not opening my eyes,” she said as she spat the words out at him, thrusting her chin out in defiance. His heart swelled with pride, and he immediately set down the knife and placed both hands on her cheeks.