Surviving the
Darkness
by Shiela Stewart
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Surviving the Darkness
Copyright© 2009 Shiela Stewart
ISBN: 978-1-926771-01-4
Cover Artist: Justyn Perry
Editor: Rochelle Weber
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
To anyone who has ever survived
a horrific ordeal. Keep up the fight.
Hold your head high and know
that with each day brings new
light and better days.
Chapter one
These tours were beginning to drain her. How many cities had she been to this past week? She’d lost count. Deborah watched through the tinted limo windows as the shops passed her by. It was good to be home in her apartment in New York. If only she could stay here longer than a week. It was just past ten in the evening and though the shops were closed, people still mulled about, walking carelessly without a worry. Deborah wished she had that, wished she could lumber along the sidewalks window shopping, without someone coming to her and asking for an autograph. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her fans; she did, and she wouldn’t be where she was today without them. Still…she longed to be as carefree as the people enjoying a nice evening out with a friend or lover.
Things were worse for her now that she had a crazy stalker after her. Before he’d been sending her obsessive letters and showing up at every one of her concerts, trying desperately to get up close to see her, she’d had some freedom at least. When his notes began to show malice then turn to threats, Bruce, her bodyguard insisted he stick to her twenty-four/seven. She had no peace or privacy now, and she so badly missed it. Bruce was a great guy and she loved him dearly. Still…having him around all the time tended to wear on her nerves.
She always felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
But it wasn’t just hard on her. She knew Bruce was struggling with it as well, especially since he rarely ever got to spend any quality time with his girlfriend. Casey was a patient woman, but even Deborah knew her patience must be wearing. Now might be a good time for both her and Bruce to have a break from each other. It seemed that her obsessed fan had taken a few days off as well. She hadn’t received a single note from him in over a week, and he hadn’t shown up at her last concert. Deborah could only hope he’d given up on her.
They came to a stop in front of her condo, and Deborah waited for her door to open. When it did, she took Bruce’s hand and climbed from the car.
“Home sweet home,” Bruce chimed, holding his free arm out to the building.
“For the time being, at least.” She drew in a deep breath then walked to the front doors. Standing there, ever dutiful, was James, the night guard. “Good evening, James.”
“Pleasure to see you again, Miss Carmichael.”
With a soft smile she walked past him to the elevator. It had been two months since she’d been home last and nothing had changed.
“Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
She turned to Bruce squaring her chin and giving her voice a firm tone. “We’re home now. Things have settled down for the time being. This is the perfect opportunity to spend time with Casey. Go out, surprise her, show up at her apartment and make wild passionate love to her all night.”
One dark bushy eyebrow lifted as he spoke. “Where did this come from?”
“It’s been a long tour for us and I know I’m feeling it. You must be, too. Take a night and have some fun.”
“We both know I can’t do that.”
She stopped the elevator and turned to him. “I’m in my apartment. I’m safe here. All I plan to do when I get inside is soak in a hot bubble bath then fall face first into bed. I can call you when I wake up in the morning and you can go about your duty of making me safe.” She took his face in her hands when she saw he was about to protest. “Don’t argue with me. I’m the boss. It’s one night, Bruce. What could possibly happen in eight short hours? Go, get laid.” She pressed the resume button sending them back on their way to the penthouse suite.
“Well, if you put it like that.”
They both laughed. The doors swung open and Deborah stepped out of the car. “Tell Casey I say hi.”
“Are you sure about this, Deb?”
She stepped back as the doors began to close. “Have a good night, Bruce.” As the doors closed she turned away and headed to her suite. Oh how she’d missed her own place and she would finally have some privacy even if it only was for a possible eight hours. She was betting Bruce showed up at her door by seven.
The guy was loyal and she loved him for it.
Pulling her keys out of her purse, visions of soft frothy bubbles filling her head, Deborah unlocked her door and entered.
It truly was good to be home.
He came out of the kitchen, throwing one arm around her waist and clamping one hand over her mouth. As he kicked the door shut the sound reverberated throughout the room like thunder. She was frozen with panic and riddled with fear. His hot breath on her neck was like fire ready to scorch.
“Finally, I have you.”
He dragged her to the bedroom, her feet dangling off the ground. The taste on his hand was bitter and salty. She wanted to scream but the sound was lodged somewhere between her belly and her throat. As he dragged her to the bedroom she saw the ropes tied to her bedposts, and she knew exactly what he had in mind.
He flipped her face down onto the bed, pinning her with a knee to the small of her back. The hand knitted blanket on her bed smothered her whimpers. She heard him grab something from the bedside table, felt him shift and when he flipped her onto her back, she had only a moment to breathe before the cloth was shoved into her mouth. With wide eyes, she stared up at her abductor.
Peter Milligan.
“This should do it.”
He slapped tape over her mouth in a quick fluid motion—then, smiling down at her, kissed her head.
Do something. Don’t just lie here and let him do this to you. Fight!
But the voice inside her head was squelched by the fear.
“Now, the finishing touches.”
He dragged her to the head of the bed, yanking first one arm up and tying it to the post then the other. When the knots were securely fashioned, he leaned back, his rump resting on her belly and looked down at her with evil intent in his eyes.
“Now, you’ll finally be mine.”
Lost in her fear, all Deborah could do was stare at the man who had sent her numerous notes, promises of making her his, threatening her if she didn’t return his calls. The countless pictures he’d sent her didn’t show the true evil he personified.
Sitting beside her on the bed, he patted her leg. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this and I had to make everything perfect. Do you like the atmosphere? I know how much you like candles so I thought filling the room with t
hem would help you relax.”
It did anything but relax her. How could she relax when she was tied to her bed, knowing full well what was going to happen to her? He’d vowed many times in his letters that when he finally had her, he would never let her go. And the only way they would ever part would be in death.
“I’ve been here all day, preparing for when you came home. I bought brand new bed linens for you. I know how much you like the color blue. They’re silk. Can you tell? No, probably not. But you will once I get you undressed.”
Dear God no! But instead of trying to scream or even attempting to break free, she lay there, quivering like a fool, her voice sucked away by the fear.
She cringed when he touched her face, then felt the bile rise as his fingers grazed over her cheeks, down her chin to her shoulder.
“You are so beautiful, Debbie, and I love how you don’t have one of those stick figures like so many women these days. It’s a tragedy that women think they need to starve themselves in order to look beautiful. Not that I think you’re fat. Far from it. You’re just not anorexic.” He squeezed her shoulder before getting up off the bed. “Well, enough chatter for now. I better go lock up. Wouldn’t want anyone waltzing in here right now.” he turned back to her, resting one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other on the door jam. “Especially not your guard. Where is he tonight anyway? He never leaves your side.” When all she did was stare at him, he slapped a hand on his forehead. “What was I thinking? You can’t respond with that tape over your mouth. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I’m prepared in case he comes back.”
Her entire body turned to jelly when he lifted the gun from his pocket and waved it in the air.
“I’ll be back in just a bit.”
Deborah whimpered as he left the room. She was utterly relieved that Bruce had agreed to take the night off. If he’d come into the apartment with her, he would have been shot.
She swallowed the bile that thought produced and wondered if she would make it out alive.
***
Stealthily, Zach moved about the street, his feline eyes searching. When he finally found his brother he was going to give that kid a piece of his mind. What the hell was he thinking, escaping from his bedroom in the middle of the night? And if he was hanging with those delinquents again, Zach was going to string him up by his toes. What was he thinking? Their parents were already pissed off at both of them and with just cause. He should have kept a better eye on his brother but between setting up the Demon’s Lair and getting Simone out of her abusive marriage he’d let Eli slide. He wasn’t about to do that again.
Spotting his kid brother in the distance, and yes, hanging with his usual crowd, Zack sped up. As he gained ground he transformed back into his human form. Reaching out, he laid one hand on his brother’s shoulder, catching him off guard.
“What the hell—Zack? Oh, shit!”
He narrowed his eyes at the four other kids. “Scram boys,” Grabbing his brother by the shirt sleeve, he hauled Eli off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jerking his arm free, Eli straightened his shirt and snarled in response. “I was trying to have some fun.”
“At two in the morning on a school night? Do you have any idea how worried Mom and Dad are right now?”
His back straight, his chin defiant, Eli remarked snidely. “Fuck ’em.”
Zach spun on him, gripping him by the shirt front and lifting him several inches off the ground. “You will respect our parents.”
“I was a mistake anyway. It’s not like they care about me.”
Was he for real? Zack felt like shaking some sense into the kid. “Where the hell do you get that from? You were not a mistake. Mom and Dad planned on having you, and they had wanted several more but the doctor told Mom to stop. Don’t you get it yet? They love their kids. All of them.” He set Eli on his feet and took a deep breath. “You were supposed to be the start of a new generation—a younger generation—but if you keep up the way you have been, you’ll either end up dead before you’re twenty, or in Juvenile Hall.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to be the next generation. Maybe I just want to have fun.”
“You can have both, but do it right. Disobeying them will only make them tighten their reins on you. Now, let’s get you home.” With his brother at his side, Zach headed to his parents’ home.
Kids.
Chapter Two
She was shivering. It wasn’t cold, yet her body was acting as if she were chilled. Even her teeth were chattering. She could hear him moving around her apartment and wished to God he would leave. But that would be too easy.
Her body went to stone the instant he stepped into the room.
“I’ve locked the door and the balcony, closed up the curtains, and now we’re ready to go.” He walked to her bedroom window and pulling the shades, turned back to her with a sly grin on his face. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Debbie.”
The whimper that escaped her taped mouth didn’t seem to have come from her. The fear was lodged so tightly in her chest that she couldn’t muster anything more.
“How is it you don’t own a pair of scissors? I searched the entire apartment but came up empty. I guess this will have to do.”
Her heart sped up as he held one of the butcher block knives in the air. The overhead light glinted off the steel blade as he turned it over.
“I should have undressed you before tying you up, but I didn’t want to take the chance of having you escape.” He sat on the edge of the bed and her body began to shake even more. She tried tugging her hands free, but the ropes cut into her wrists with a scorching sensation. The cloth in her mouth was wet with saliva and the tape over her lips was beginning to irritate her skin. Dear God, wouldn’t someone save her?
“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”
She whimpered, and when he lifted the large steel knife she felt her blood drain.
“Now, now; this doesn’t have to be unpleasant.” Sliding the blade under her pant leg, he began to slice along the seam. “As long as you stay still.”
As the cold steel touched her skin, she flinched. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure it would bruise her ribs. And as he slid the blade up her leg the tears drenched her face.
“Brown isn’t your color. I think I’ve told you that before. You should wear yellows and reds. You have the complexion for those colors. Brown makes you looked washed out.”
She cringed when the blade slid along her other leg and when he angled the blade over her crotch and sliced the fabric up her belly, her whimpers turned to sobs.
“Now, now; no need for hysterics.”
Her body shook as he slid the blade along her blouse, tearing open the fabric. He parted the center and sat back staring down at her. She tasted bile and the stomach acid stung her chest, but she swallowed it back. Then his fingers slipped beneath the center of her bra. She whimpered again but he kept going. He slipped the blade of the knife beneath the fabric and as he tipped it up to cut the fabric, it clipped the inside of her breast, searing the flesh.
She began to sob.
“Oops, sorry about that.” Parting the cups, his fingers skimmed her breasts making the bile rise a little higher. Then to her horror, he bent over and slid his tongue out and over the cut. “You’re very tasty. I can’t wait to have more. And I just knew you’d have great breasts.”
Placing the blade between his teeth, leaving both hands free, he cupped each breast firmly. With a hiss between his teeth, he fondled her.
Why was this happening to her? She tried not to think about his hands on her breasts but she couldn’t. She felt everything—the scrape of his callused palms, how his fingers gripped one nipple and squeezed tightly.
God, just let this be over.
He took he knife from between his teeth and suc
ked in a breath. “Yes indeed. You are mighty fine. Let’s see what the rest of you looks like.”
She could feel her body shaking and could do nothing as he slid her pants away. When the tip of the blade touched her hip she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and prayed. She heard the fabric tearing, felt the cloth parting.
She was completely bare now.
“Oh my…you are sweet. I love a woman who keeps her feminine area bare.”
She jumped when his fingers touched her and began to sob.
“Jesus, you are nice. Yes indeed.”
His fingers slid over her, tugging the dry flesh. When his finger penetrated her, she began to sob so hard, her body shook the bed.
“Stop crying!”
But she just couldn’t stop the tears or the way her body shook with them. He was going to rape her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“I said stop crying,” he demanded, holding the knife to her chin.
She yelped when the blade came down between her breasts.
“Stop crying or I’ll give you a reason to cry.”
She couldn’t help herself and let her fear show. She bawled like a baby, flipping her head back and forth, bucking to get him off of her. When the tip of the blade sliced into her chest, she screamed through the cloth.
“I said stop crying!” The fire erupted as the blade slid between her breasts and down to her belly.
“Deb. Are you still up?”
She was never so relieved to hear Bruce’s voice as she was now. Until she remembered Peter had a gun.
“Fuck!” Peter dropped the knife as he jumped up off the bed. She began to cry out as loud as she could as Peter made his way to the bedroom door, gun ready. She tugged at her wrists, crying out.
The shot rang out, making her jump.
She screamed through the muffled cloth. Bruce was probably dead and when Peter came back into the room, she knew she’d be next. Then she heard the scuffle, heard what sounded like fists hitting flesh. Helpless, all she could do is listen and hope Bruce would be able to overpower Peter.
Then it all went quiet.
Shiela Stewart - [Darkness 08] Page 1
