by Anna Paige
And she was gonna get one.
“No,” I told her, wiping my hands on the nearest rag. “I’ll go. You stay here and get cleaned up. I don’t expect you to do the mudding. It’s messy work.”
Her hand shot to her hip.
Oh, shit.
Here we go.
“First, look at me.” She gestured the length of her body and I tried to focus on what she wanted to point out, and not what my eyes were instantly drawn to. “I’m covered in drywall dust, I have paint in my hair from this morning, and there’s something I can’t even identify caked under my nails. What part of that suggests to you that I’m afraid to get dirty? I say bring on the damn mud.” She scowled at me, making me kind of want to run. “And the five minute drive to the gas station isn’t going to kill me. Neither is getting us sandwiches. It’s a twenty minute adventure that I desperately need before I go insane.”
She walked over and took both my hands in hers. “You know how much I appreciate you looking out for me, right?”
I nodded.
“Good. Please don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way then, all right?”
Another nod.
“I need to go get the damn lunch because I haven’t had five minutes alone in a week and I’m starting to feel like a shut-in.” She heaved out a sigh and looked at me with pleading in her eyes. “Please, it’s a quick trip but it will do wonders for my disposition.”
“I like your disposition.” I offered sheepishly.
“Even after five straight days of it? You’re better than me then, because I can’t even stand myself at this point.”
This is a mistake. This is a big mistake. You’re fucking up, Matthews. “Okay, fine. Go get the sandwiches. I’ll get cleaned up a bit and be waiting when you get back.”
She grinned, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. “Thanks, warden. I’ll be right back.” There was a bounce in her step as she went to grab her keys.
“Hey, don’t forget…”
“No mustard on yours. I know, Weirdo.” She tossed over her shoulder as she walked out the door.
As soon as I heard the crunch of her tires on the gravel driveway, my stomach fell and I had to fight the impulse to jump in the truck to follow behind her, just in case.
I had a bad feeling already.
•••
Thirty minutes later, as my stomach roiled and my heart hammered, the feeling went from bad to worse.
I had my phone out, ready to call Lauren to check on her when it started ringing in my hand.
Clay.
I accepted the call with a groan, wishing I had just sent it to voicemail so I could call Lauren.
“Hey, man. I was just about to make a call. Can I hit you right back?” I didn’t even give him a chance to speak.
“Brant, wait… You need to come down to the Speed Mart. Now. Lauren needs you.” Clay’s voice was brittle-sounding, somewhere between angry and scared.
I was already moving, snatching up my keys and heading for the door even as he finished speaking. “What happened?”
He blew out a breath. “Isaac tried to snatch her. She cut him up pretty bad and managed to get away. He took off and she stumbled into the store, covered in blood and asking for you. There are EMTs here now but she won’t let anyone near her. Even me. I tried. One of our guys was in here on his lunch break getting lotto tickets when it all went down. He recognized her from around the site and called me. He didn’t have your number saved, just mine. Anyway, I was at the diner picking up lunches, so I got here pretty quick.”
Gravel flew as I spun my truck around in the driveway and put the accelerator on the mat. “Can you get close to her now?”
“Yeah but she won’t respond. I’ve tried to talk to her but it’s like she’s checked out. No response at all.”
“Tell her it’s me and put the phone to her ear.” I grudgingly slowed coming out of the driveway to let a passing car get by to avoid shooting out in front of it.
Fuck.
I turned the volume up on my phone and waited. After a second, I heard Clay talking and then a shuffling sound that meant he was trying to put the phone up to her ear.
“Lauren?” I called. No answer. “Lauren, baby, it’s Brant. Do you hear me? Talk to me, gorgeous, please.”
More shuffling sounds and then Clay came back on the line. “Dude, hurry. She’s shaking so bad her damn teeth are rattling. As soon as she heard your voice, she started crying. Only, it’s just the tears, she’s still not making a sound. It’s freaking me the hell out, brother. Get your ass down here.”
I whipped the truck into the left lane and darted past the car from a minute before, hands in a white-knuckle hold on the wheel. “Keep talking to her, okay? Tell her I’m almost there.”
An oncoming car honked at me and I realized I was edging into the other lane, not paying attention. I jerked the wheel and got my rig back into the right lane, looking up just as the car passed. A fleeting glimpse of a long jagged scar.
“Motherfucking son of a bitch!”
“What?” Clay shouted on the other end of the line. “You okay? Shit! Don’t you fucking wreck trying to get here. You hear me, Brant?”
I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy staring into my rear-view mirror. “I just fucking met Isaac on the highway. He’s headed out of town in a green Honda Civic, older model. Get those cops on his ass right now! I can’t leave Lauren there and chase him down. Goddammit!” I punched the dash hard enough to nearly crack the damn thing, and my gaze flicked back to the mirror. I could hear Clay talking to someone urgently as I fought with indecision. “I want to go after him, Clay. I have the best shot of catching him.” My foot lifted off the gas as I fought to decide.
Clay’s voice was low and firm. “I know, trust me. But she needs you right now. We know what he’s driving and the cops are headed that way. State patrol is being called too, to try and head him off. I just gave them the description. They’ll get him. You come help her. You’re the only one who can.”
He was right.
In the flash of near-blinding fury I’d felt at seeing his face, I’d almost made the wrong choice. I’d almost let her down. I’d almost failed her just like I failed Zoey.
I stomped the accelerator again and sighed a few minutes later when the gas station came into view, several police cars shooting by me as I drew nearer, headed the way Isaac had gone.
I jumped from my truck so fast I wondered briefly if it was even in park, running into the crowded store and shoving past a couple of well-intentioned cops who thought I was a spectator.
“Brant!” Clay called from the far corner of the attached sub shop.
Lauren sat huddled sideways in the last booth, her back to the wall, knees drawn up in front of her as she rocked back and forth, shuddering as tears rolled down her cheeks in an endless stream.
Clay was telling the truth about the blood.
It was everywhere.
In her hair, across her chest, down her arms. Her thin, beautiful hands were soaked in it and I prayed like hell that none of it was hers. Images of Zoey flashed in my mind, throwing off my stride as that old pain coupled with seeing Lauren this way.
It’s the blood. Seeing the blood is messing with you. It’s not Zoey. It’s not too late. Please, God, don’t let it be too late.
As soon as I was in her line of sight, Lauren’s head jerked in my direction. She met my eye, that empty expression faltering as her face crumpled and her arms shot out. Sobs racked her body with such force that she could barely get my name out. “B…Br…”
There was no way to get behind the booth, so I grabbed the corner of the table and yanked it out of the way, sending it skittering across the room before someone caught it. A second later I was reaching out and plucking her from her seat. I picked her up under her arms and lifted her so that she was able to wrap her legs around me, which she did automatically. Her arms shot around my shoulders and she sobbed into my neck with such force that
I was truly afraid she was going to injure herself.
I walked her over to the counter where the majority of the police still stood and rested her bottom here, leaving her wrapped around me as I nodded for the paramedic to come over.
Before I could turn back to try and convince Lauren to get checked out, my eyes locked on the screen behind the counter, the one playing back the surveillance footage from the attack. My blood turned to ice in my veins and my lungs seized up so that I couldn’t pull in any air.
Jesus fucking Christ.
There on the screen, Lauren was walking back to her car, two large bags in her hands as she looked down, pulling her keys from her jacket pocket. Isaac’s shadowy form was visible in the upper corner of the screen, concealed from Lauren’s view but not the camera’s. Quick as a flash, he darted from the side of the building, grabbing her from behind with an arm across her throat. The other arm wrapped around her torso and roughly fondled her breast as he said something into her ear. Bile rose in my throat as I watched him dragging her backward toward the side of the store, where I was sure he’d hidden his car.
Lauren dropped the bags and began trying to pull his arm from her neck, the look of panic on her face would haunt my nightmares for as long as I lived. After a few seconds of flailing, her right hand moved to her jacket and she frantically worked to pull something out of the pocket.
The utility knife!
She’d stuck it in her pocket instead of the toolbelt!
Oh, thank fuck!
I squeezed her body tighter against me as I watched, needing the reminder that she had made it through the ordeal I was witnessing on the monitor.
The Lauren on the video extended the blade and dropped her weight, feigning like she’d tripped. While Isaac was off balance, she spun and slashed with the knife. Repeatedly. Wildly. Jesus, the blood. Blood flew everywhere. She got him with every slice, from the looks of it. His arm, shoulder, hand… neck. After several wild swipes with the knife, she lost her footing.
As she fell to the ground, screaming silent screams not captured by the video-only feed, Isaac ran out of the frame and was gone.
My girl had done it. She fought him and won.
I looked back at her in wonderment, kissing her temple as she kept her head buried in my shoulder. “Baby, I’m so proud of you.” I whispered into her hair. “You did great. Do you hear me, Lauren? You were amazing.”
She sniffed softly and lifted her head. “Take me home, Brant. Please take me home.”
“Are you hurt anywhere? Is any of this blood yours?”
She shook her head. “It’s his. I need to get it off of me. You have to take me home so I can wash it off. Please.” The despair in her voice broke me. I nodded, picking her up from the counter and letting her wrap herself around me as I looked around and announced to all who cared to listen. “I’m taking her home. Whatever questions you have will have to wait till tomorrow.”
I didn’t even slow my stride when Clay called out, assuring me that he would fill the cops in for us.
I couldn’t be bothered with anything except getting her home where she belonged.
•••
The drive back was precarious to say the least. Illegal was probably an apt description as well because Lauren stayed wrapped around me for the entire trip. I had to slide the seat all the way back and sit on the edge of it to give her room for her legs, which were still wrapped around my waist. I drove as fast as was safe and whispered to her the entire way, letting her know how amazing she was, and how sorry I was that I wasn’t there to help her. She didn’t say a word, just hung on tight and cried into my shoulder.
When we got to the cabin, I carried her inside and up to her room. She finally dropped her feet to the floor when we entered her bathroom, savagely ripping the soiled clothes from her body as I turned on the shower.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” I asked, bending down to meet her gaze as she struggled out of her blood-soaked bra.
She shook her head, not speaking.
I debated for a moment whether or not to stay but she was already peeling off the last of her clothes and stepping into the shower. I couldn’t help with that so I reached down and gathered the garments instead. “Lauren? I’m gonna get these clothes out of here. I can’t throw them away in case the police need them but I’ll bag them and get them out of the house, okay?”
No reply.
I sighed and left the bathroom, my heart breaking at the idea of what she’d gone through. And the thought that I hadn’t been there to help.
I failed her. I let that bastard get the chance to get to her and he did. He almost took her away to do God-only-knew-what to her. My imagination kicked in at the absolute worst possible time and the images it conjured made me physically ill. It was all I could do not to be sick at the thought of what I knew he’d planned to do to her.
I took the clothes and stuffed them in a garbage bag and placed it in the storage room attached to the carport, locking the door. I walked the length of the carport a few times, trying to get myself together before I went back inside. She didn’t need to see me like this. I had to get my head together and be strong for her, but I needed a minute first.
My hands shook and my chest ached and all I wanted to do was fucking hit something. I should have been there, goddammit. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. I practically offered her up to him on a silver fucking platter. I gave in and let her out of my sight and look what happened?
Fuck!
I threaded my hands through my hair, bowing my head and fighting back tears.
He could have killed her.
He definitely would have raped her.
Again.
And it would have been on me. Because I didn’t listen to my instincts. Because I gave in and let her go alone. Because I let my love for her cloud my judgment.
My head jerked up at the revelation.
I did.
I loved her.
With that realization came another, even more frightening one.
I would kill Isaac Davis before this was over.
I knew it in my gut just as surely as I knew I loved Lauren more than I’d ever loved anyone in my life.
In that moment, it became crystal clear.
I would either kill for her or die for her.
There would be no middle ground.
•••
I walked into the cabin with a new sense of resolve and an old sense of impending doom, but I couldn’t let past failures deter me. I would save Lauren, just as I should have saved Zoey. I wouldn’t fail again, no matter what it took.
I started the tea kettle, dragging out several types of tea for her to choose from, and set out for the second floor to check on her. She wasn’t one for long showers as far as I knew but after what happened, I didn’t blame her one damn bit.
Before I got to the second floor landing, I could see the steam billowing out of her room. Lots of steam.
Too much steam.
Warning bells were going off in my head as I burst through the bathroom door and was met with a wall of steam so thick I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. “Lauren?” I called, making my way to the shower. “Lauren? Talk to me!”
I still couldn’t see a thing but the idea of her standing under water that was clearly scalding fucking hot was enough to spur me into action. I snatched the shower door open, greeted with a thick gust of steamy air and the faint outline of Lauren’s cowering form in the shower floor.
The heat that engulfed me was incredible, and terrifying.
“Jesus, Lauren!” I stepped into the shower to pick her up and hissed at the bite of scalding water at my back, soaking my clothes as I fought to get my arms under her. Before long, the heat was too much and I had to stop to turn the water off before proceeding. Scooping her up, I carried her out of the bathroom, through her steam-filled room, across the hall, and into my room. The waves of steam coming off of her reddened skin were horrifying to witness.
I
gingerly set her on my bed and knelt down in front of her, afraid to touch her again now that I’d seen the extent of the damage.
“Baby, we need to get you to the hospital. Your skin is scalded all over.” I looked around for something to put on her, settling on one of my cotton t-shirts before wincing at the thought of anything at all on her tender skin.
Fuck.
“I had to get it off. He was on me, his hands, his blood. I had to clean it all off.”
Her voice was so weak, so broken that tears sprang to my eyes.
I leaned close, desperate to kiss her but scared to touch her even with the soft brush of my lips. “You got it all, baby. It’s okay. You’re all clean now.” I glanced at the angry red blotches on her neck, her breasts, her stomach.
I dared not look any lower.
Instead, I held up a hand, motioning for her to stay where she was. “I need to get my phone from the truck, okay? I want you to stay right here. Don’t move.”
She nodded, wringing her hands as she inspected her nails, looking for dried blood. “Okay.” She muttered absently.
I made it to the truck in ten seconds flat, even after stopping to turn off the screaming teakettle on the stove. I called Ali on my way back up. She answered on the first ring. “How is she?”
“Bad. She just scalded her entire body in the shower trying to scrub the blood off. I didn’t realize it until she was in there for a while. And I can’t put clothes on her and take her to the ER without hurting her worse. Please tell me you know someone who can come check her out, Ali.”
There was a moment of hesitation and then, “Give me an hour to get her there, okay? Do you think you can handle things till then?”
“I’ll handle things for as long as I have to. Just get me someone here, please.”
“I’ve got you covered, little brother. I’ll call you back in a minute.”
She hung up before I could thank her.
Lauren was still sitting in the same spot I left her in, still studying her fingernails with quiet intensity. I stood in the doorway, watching her, taking stock of her injuries from afar and fighting against the overwhelming urge to hold her.
