by Barb Shuler
Until next time… if there is a next time,
Dani Lynn
It felt almost foreign, signing my name to a piece of paper that most likely would never be seen by another living soul. Though, it was officially a new month… New way to start doing things in my new captive, prisoner life, I guess. Hearing the library door open, I looked up and saw Nicole coming in. I closed my notebook and set it aside, setting a few pages of my book on top of it. She moved in and dropped a bag on the desk. I raised a brow and looked up at her before getting up to retrieve a book from the shelves surrounding us.
“Now, you can connect your laptop. At least enough to do your writing.” She paused as I sat back down, crossing my arms. “But... there has to be some changes made.”
“Like?”
“You will write under a new name. As your other life is... Gone.” She waved her hand dismissively like it meant nothing.
What. The. Actual. Fuck? She has lost her fucking mind. I knew it. I blinked at her, then cocked a brow. “Fuck you. That ain’t happenin’, you crazy-” I was cut off when she grabbed me by my hair and pulled me away from the shelf in front of me, slamming my back against the wall behind it.
“You will do as I tell you! Either you do it my way or… ” Her hot breath washed over me and made my lip curl in disgust as I tried to jerk free of her grip. “If you do, you may get out of this in one piece.” There was no inflection in her voice. Her eyes stared through me, cold as ice.
My heart hammered as she pressed me against the wall. I was not weak, why could I not fight her off? What was it she was putting in the things I ate and drank? I tried to swallow, but it felt as if there was a rubber ball bobbing up and down as the sobs threatened to spill out. If I didn’t do it I was dead… dead. Thinking that word made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, the goosebumps rose along my pale skin and I was frozen, again. I couldn’t die. Not now, not here with her. I had to figure out some way to get a message, a note of some kind to Katie or Drew. But how does one do that in a house that you are captive in? I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. She wouldn’t see me cry, not again.
“FINE!” I scream out the words and push her back away from me. Surprisingly she didn’t push me back.
She simply stepped back and said, “Good girl.”
Good Girl? What the hell? Was I a fucking golden retriever now? I shifted on my feet and scrubbed the palms of my hands across my face as I relaxed my shoulders. I had to figure out what this was all about. The only way to do that was to take a breath and think. Think like she was. If that was humanly possible, that is. I sat down in the chair, pulled one of my notebooks to me and picked up my pencil before I looked up at her. I was ignoring the fact that my hands were shaking. I couldn't give into my fear. Not yet. Not in front of her.
“What do you want me to fucking do? I can’t think in this fucking place. Not with you up my ass all the goddamn time.” She glared at me and I held up my hand as her gaze sent an unease through me. Shit. Don’t piss her off anymore. I had to keep the baby and Drew in my mind. I could do this for them. I rested my hand discreetly over my belly and spoke to my baby silently. “Don’t worry, peanut, Daddy will find us. He’s Mama’s superman.”
“What I mean-” My voice cracked. I took a deep breath and rushed my words out before I couldn’t speak. “What kind of writing is it you expect me to be able to just pull out of my ass here?” I had to bite the inside of my cheek. If Katie had been here, she would have said that my Texan was showing, meaning my temper was not under control yet. Get it together, Dani Lynn. I had no room for errors. Hiding my fear made me mad. Mad could make me sorry later. If I messed up now, I was fucked. Her lips pursed for a moment and she moved around to sit beside me on the desk.
“Think of something. Write a fucking love story. You can’t write like you anymore.”
My lip curled up in a sneer as I leaned forward. Was she trying to piss me off? My body was starting to revolt over my tantrum. I felt like I was about to lose my breakfast. Or lunch… fuck, what time was it, anyway? “Nicole, I write suspense and horror. You know, horrific shit. I don’t do love stories.” I looked down at my pad and counted in my head, waiting for whatever it was she would say or do next. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall in time with my pounding heart was making me feel sicker. Please God, just make it stop.
“Just do it!”
“You know what? Fuck you.” Or ya know, go fuck a light socket. Fry your twisted shit so I can get the fuck out of here.
“Seems someone needs another day in bed... With me.” My stomach dropped and it took all I had in me to not keel over. Dear God. No, not that. I couldn’t do that again.
“That’s not the kind of genre I write… you can’t write something you don’t believe in...”
“You believe in romance. You are… were fucking my goddamn brother after all. Gotta be love, or you’re just another fucking whore to put a notch on his bedpost.” She once again threw that hand around and I had to fight to not throw something at her. God help me, I think she was trying to make me fucking mental too. She had no idea what in the hell she was babbling about.
She seemed to think of that for a moment and shrugged. Her face was flat, like her emotions just turned off, like a light switch. Nothing. Void. Her body sat there, poised on the desk before she looked at me; dead set on what she wanted. I kept my eyes on hers for a moment and looked back down again. I had never written romance. Yes, before I was a writer, well a published writer, I wrote on blogs, posted a few mini stories of hot, dark, bloody, dirty smut in a few places, but never a love story. Could my brain fathom the idea long enough to do it?
“Just leave me alone.” My voice sounded deflated even to me. I turned the chair around from the desk and gazed out of the window. What could I do? I chewed on the pencil’s eraser until she left the room. When the door closed behind her, I quickly turned around and jumped up. Grabbing the charger from the bag I hurried to get it plugged in and to get it hooked up to my laptop. If I showed her I was trying, maybe, just maybe she would slip up and I could figure out how to get a message to someone. Katie would be checking the blogs for my books, I could do it there… God… My face fell into my hands as my tears started again. They must all be so worried. No one has any idea what happened to me. None. From the looks of it, most of the things here are from my house, things that would make it look like I packed up and left.
I shook my head and rubbed my cheeks with the palms of my hands. I had to pull it together. She wasn’t going to break me. Dani Lynn Cartwright is unbreakable… now if I could believe that, it would make things that much better. I booted up my laptop and opened the documents app. As it pulled up, I cracked my knuckles. I had a process. I sat at the laptop and let my eyes close, and the words would start to flow at their own pace. Today could be no different… but a love story… My face screwed up at the thought and I shook it off. I had to write what I knew, what I was good at. My anger, fear and hope was driving me now as I started new pages, hopefully pages that would be full soon with words.
“Okay, Dani Lynn, you can do this… deep breaths, girlfriend.”
I reached over and took a sip of my water, turned my ITunes on; hitting shuffle. Disturbed filled the air and I smirked. I would just finish the second book I had already started outlining later… I had an idea brewing, and it was not a love story. It would let me get some of this violent frustration building up in me out and not towards Nicole, since she could kill me at any minute. Maybe this would give me ideas of how to get out of here. Could that happen? Okay Maggie, let’s get you into a new role. No more Detective Maggie Carter. Let’s get ya hands dirty. Cracking my knuckles again, I move to the title page. My lips pucker in thought. The title was always where I started. Well almost always. As the ITunes changed, Jo Dee Messina’s song ‘My Give A Damn’s Busted’ came on and I nodded.
“That’ll do, that will do just fine.”
CHAPTER THIRTEE
N
Letting it Out
Dani Lynn
MUSIC HAD ALWAYS been a way to help me get out of my head, and a way to get things that were stored in there, in the depths of all the useless stuff. I flipped to the next page in the doc folder and made my disclaimer. It was the same as the last book, but hey, if you don’t warn them, people get all pissy and what not. It would be more dolled up later by Carole and her associates, but a first draft is just that, a draft. No need to try and be perfect, as I was far from it. Hitting the ‘B’ I made my writing bold as I typed.
MY GIVE A DAMN’S BUSTED
(Draft One)
BY: A. M. CARTWRIGHT
“Rated (R)”
This story contains adult language, dark themes. It is not suitable for anyone under 18, or for anyone with a weak stomach. If you are not comfortable with that, please keep moving. I do not condone, agree or encourage the acts shown within.
The names and events in this story are all works of fiction.
Thank You.
“So... what to do, what to do…” Tapping my fingertips on the laptop I had to let the songs playing on ITunes guide me. I sank into myself. My eyes closed as the songs played. Dark. Bloody… we liked dark and bloody. My lips curled into a smile as I pictured myself stabbing Nicole. Yes, that’s morbid and wrong on so many levels, but it’s what was in my mind. I could now use that to my advantage. But, of course, I wasn’t going to use me and her. That would only set her off… No, I had to figure this out. Serial killer… I could do that. I had always been intrigued with how the mind of a serial killer works. The way they saw the things that they did. I pulled my notebook over, the one where I had shoved all the pages of notes I had already typed up. Skimming the pages, I nodded at a name I had typed out on one of them. So the bad guy, or woman as it is from one of my other book ideas would come to life in this one. Fun times.
“Lizzy Crenshaw. Yep, you will make an epic little psycho….”
As soon as I sat the notebook and papers down I moved my fingers back to my keyboard and let the little thoughts I was having flow out onto the pages, my words skimming the space of the screen. I could do this. It was going to happen. It would be done and I could go home… God… Please let me be able to go home...
~*~
PROLOGUE
“Now up to speak is the Doctor currently in charge of the accused. I present to you, Doctor Alexander Cole.” The speaker’s voice rang out over the crowded room.
“Hello Ladies and Gentlemen. I regret that I have to be here today. For years, Lizzie Crenshaw has been tormented, tortured and enslaved to the thoughts inside her head. Even with the help of medications, she was lost. The ‘voices’ inside her head have ruled her life. Today was just another day where the ‘voices’ made her do something we will all have to live with. The casualty list keeps growing as the buildings are searched. When questioned, all she would say is that ‘she’s happy now’ and laugh. It’s a sad day in Virginia. One we’ll all remember for years to come.
I really have done all I can do to help her. She needs to be committed. These are my findings, and what I, as the Doctor on call have decided. As of 19:37 hours, the papers are signed and dated for today, the 19th of September, of the year 2002. She will be committed under full watch at Morton's Psychiatric Hospital, here in Virginia. She will be remanded there for the next forty years. At that time, she will be re-evaluated.
This is an informed decision, and the child’s parent and only legal guardian has signed the commitment papers. She will be transferred within the hour. Thank you, that is all.”
CHAPTER 1
As I drove down the highway, the thoughts in my head were scaring me. But I knew today would be different. Did he really think he was going to get away with doing this to me? I'm the girl they all take for granted, but no more. I will get my revenge! He's going to pay for what he's done to me. There is no more being the nice little Lizzie they all know. It's time for the bitch to come out and play.
It had been years since she made her appearance. But I knew that as soon those meds the quacks had me on were out of my system, she'd be itching to play again. I flipped on the radio in the truck and smirked as I listened to the song. My Give a Damn's Busted... for sure. This song was so me. I hummed along as I let my memories take over.
~*~
I couldn’t believe how easily it was starting to form in my mind. It was as if I could hear the words, see the images of the characters in my head. I pulled up a new screen just as Nicole was coming back in the room, a tray in her hands. I swallowed hard, a reflex mainly, but that look was in her eyes again. I ignored it and kept on typing, making my notes in a blank document just like I would do for any other story I was writing. I heard her talking, but I held up a hand as I finished the last few words of the sentence I was working on.
“What?” My eyes met hers as she looked at me, her fists curling around the tray as I did so.
“I asked you a question.” Her voice rose as she slammed her hand on the desk. “Why are you not answering it?”
I blinked, “What!” I cleared my throat and sighed. “I’m sorry, I was writing, I zone out when I’m in work mode. What was your question?”
As she pushed the tray further onto the desk I felt a shiver run up my spine. She moved over to me and sat back against the desk. Her eyes immediately went to the laptop. The page was open where I had already started writing out the story in my head. I tried to ignore her being so close to me, but this closeness was making my stomach flip. I couldn’t trust her to not try and injure me again. Or worse. I focused on the laptop screen and went back to thinking as I typed out my notes and a short outline so I could keep myself on target. I was giving her what she wanted… just not the kind she wanted.
“I asked for a love story! That-” she said pointing at the laptop’s screen. “That doesn’t sound like it’s a love story.”
Because it’s not, you dumbass… I bit my cheek to keep my thoughts from coming out. “I told you I’d try, and this is what came out.”
“You should try harder, Dani Lynn!” Her brows creased as she scowled at me.
“I’m not Danielle Steele, or some Harlequin writer. I don’t do that kind of thing. I told you that I made no promises!” I grumbled to myself. “I’m writing a story, a book that will sell. So, can I just be left alone to do it?”
I glance at her as she crossed her arms. My fingers were starting to shake as I tried to focus on typing. The longer she sat there the more nervous I felt. My skin was damp with moisture. I had goose bumps running along my skin and I felt like I was going to hurl. I hated her, hated her with every fiber of my being. When she leaned in and whispered against my ear I froze.
“Maybe you need to be reminded what it is to be loved? Hmm... Then maybe you can write it. You know, write what you know.”
Like you’d know, you psycho… I was writing what I knew. Fear. Anger. I shifted a little, trying to discreetly turn away from her when her cold hand lay against my bare thigh. Oh God, please make it stop. I wanted to hit her, beat her until she bled to death, but Nicole was stronger than I was. If she wanted it, she was going to take it whether I was willing to give it or not. I squeezed my eyes closed as she kissed my neck. Her hand skirted up my thigh and I jumped.
“Please... stop…”
“Begging? Let’s see how much begging you are willing to do. Shall we?”
I let out a gasp as her hand balled into a fist in my hair. Her lips moved along my jaw and I pushed her away. I wasn’t going to let her do this, no matter how much she hurt me. My body was mine. No one touched me this way, not even my man. Her touch just felt wrong. She was not like Drew… his touch was soft and gentle, he made my body feel like it was on fire. Nicole's touch made me feel queasy. It was neither soft nor gentle.
The more I resisted the worse she would make it for me. Eventually she would break me down as she had before and my body would betray me. In the moments of my failur
e she would feel triumphant. I would stop feeling. It was the easiest way to get through it. No amount of showering would scrub the feel of her against my skin off. Nothing would erase it from my mind. I would be lost to it again. Forever its slave.
<><><><>
I don’t remember much of what happened to me earlier. I remember I tried to fight her off of when she had opened the door leading to the torture closet. Beyond that door, my nightmares would come true. There was a pain in my neck and the world went black.
When I opened my eyes again I was curled up on a bed, my hands bound above my head. My body was hot; covered in a sheen of moisture. My hair was wet and sticking to my head. I tugged at the binding on my hands and nothing. They didn’t budge. I groaned as I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming. In the corner of the room there she stood, her eyes looking over me like I was some prize of hers. What in the hell had just happened? I tried to push myself up with my legs to move away from her but the pain in them stopped me. I looked down as best as I could and saw blood. Panic. I was bleeding. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!?!”
“I told you you’d do more begging.”
Oh, God. I couldn’t remember what had happened. I met her eyes again and tugged at the bindings on my wrists, not caring that they were hurting or burning. The pain was keeping me focused. As she moved over to me, Nicole’s hand wrapped around my face and pulled it up to look at her. Her face was only millimeters from mine now. I swallowed hard as the pressure she applied to my face made her fingernails dig into my cheek. Then before I could react, her lips met mine. Her lips pressed hard to mine but I didn’t move. As her grip faltered slightly, I acted. I bit her lip hard, the warmth of her blood falling against me before I let go.
