by Ada Stone
My mind was so busy planning things out that I didn’t notice him at first. I pulled into my driveway like I always did, running mostly on autopilot as I thought of all that I would have to do and how I would have to hurry if I wanted to get out of there before anyone realized what I was up to.
But that was where I’d messed up already, because someone had realized what I was up to. Or at the very least, he’d realized I was no longer sequestered upstairs in his house.
I didn’t see Sal until I’d turned off the car and had just popped open my door. He’d been sitting in the darkness on my porch, waiting quietly. My headlights must have passed right over him without my eyes registering his boxy frame, because by the time I realized he was there, it was too late.
“Oh, no,” I got out with one foot on the ground outside of the car. I tried to pull it back in and start the car at the same time, but I didn’t have a chance.
Sal had already closed the distance between us and was holding the door open to make sure that I couldn’t shut it on him. Maybe if the car had still been running, I would have gotten a chance to just drive away, but my hand was shaking as I tried to turn the key.
He reached into the open door for me and I couldn’t really get away from him. I tried moving farther into the car, hoping that maybe I could get to the passenger door at least and crawl out that side, though I didn’t know what I would do then.
Running wasn’t exactly a good, practical idea.
But I didn’t even make it that far. Instead, Sal’s thick hand grabbed my upper arm so tight that I was sure it would bruise painfully in no time at all.
“Bitch,” he said to me, then jerked me so hard that I felt like my arm was trying to come out of its socket.
I stumbled out of the car, falling onto the gravel drive, my cheek slamming onto the rocks. It ached and throbbed already, the impact not exactly making things better. I let out only a small cry, trying to be strong and not let him see how terrified I was, though I knew it was a lost cause.
He knew exactly how terrified I was.
Before I could even think to try and get up, maybe run, he was dragging me to my feet again. “Please,” I heard myself beg, and immediately I was disgusted with myself. Not that it mattered either way; he wasn’t paying me any attention.
He dragged me towards the house and for a moment I thought we were going inside. That set off a good, strong dose of panic surging through me as I remembered his earlier statement. How he said he should just force himself on me.
Was this it? Would he rape me tonight after I had finally joined once more with the only man I ever loved?
But before we even got to the porch, he changed trajectory. Instead of going to the front door, he pulled me along the side of the house. Around the corner and to the back. Finally, I saw where we were going, dread pooling in my stomach.
His car was parked in back.
He tore open a door then shoved me inside, causing me to bang my head against the sidewalls as I half fell into the back seats. He closed the door behind me and before I could get to the doors, he was already in the driver’s seat and I heard the click of the locks. All the doors were now tightly shut.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t unlock them while he’s distracted, I thought desperately.
As though reading my mind, he glanced in the rearview mirror to fix me with a beady stare. “Child protective locks,” he told me, then grinned maliciously.
I was screwed. I wouldn’t be able to unlock the door whether the car was stopped or moving. My only option would be to get into the front passenger seat and try that door, but Sal would never let me get that far. No. I was most definitely a prisoner and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change that right now.
He put the car into reverse, and pulled out of the driveway, then straightened out so that he could come around the front of my house where the driveway led to the main road. I tried to get at least semi comfortable in the back, though I was unwilling to put on my seatbelt just in case, by some fantastic miracle, I did get the chance to get the hell out of the car. I didn’t want to be hindered by a seatbelt if that was the case.
It wasn’t until we had pulled onto the interstate that Sal finally spoke to me. Not that I really wanted to have a conversation with him, but the silence was freaking me out. I had the sinking suspicion that he wasn’t planning on raping me or marrying me or anything of the sort anymore. It might have brought me some sort of comfort if I didn’t know that Sal wouldn’t let me go, whatever his intentions were anymore.
Which meant I was already dead.
“You must think you’re pretty clever, eh?” he began, his voice calm just as it had been when he gave me that warning in the restaurant. It was misplaced enough here in this situation—he was kidnapping me for god’s sake—that I felt a sliver of fear make its way through me, causing my already trembling body to grow cold with dread.
I shook my head, but remained silent. I didn’t think I could speak calmly under the circumstances and didn’t want to give him the pleasure of hearing my voice crack.
His eyes narrowed as they stared at me like sharpened daggers. “Don’t play dumb,” he told me. “You think you can just fuck around with whoever you want and that I wouldn’t find out?”
I sucked in a harsh breath, but otherwise kept my mouth shut. I glanced out the window trying to determine where we were going—this wasn’t the way to Sal’s house—but it was still too dark and I couldn’t make out much of anything at all.
Sal kept talking. “Well, I did find out, didn’t I? Think you can make an ass out of me, but I’m always one step ahead, sweetheart.” He let out a cold laugh then, making my trembling worse. “I know everything and you’re a stupid little whore to think you could keep it from me.”
I didn’t even wince at the whore thing anymore. I’d been called a lot of different names tonight, been accused of a lot of different things, most of them technically true. Maybe I wasn’t immune to the sting of them, but I was tired and scared enough that they didn’t pack the same punch anymore.
“I know you’ve been with Nick,” he said finally, and the calmness of his tone slipped away. There was malice behind it, the truth of what he’d been feeling all along, and I knew it didn’t mean things were getting better. “Just look at you,” he spat at me snidely. “You’re a fucking mess. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
I didn’t have to look down at myself to know he was right. I was a mess. I could still feel the lingering touch of Nick on my body, like a ghost holding me, clinging tightly to me. My hair felt wild about my shoulders—something Sal had always hated even when it wasn’t from passionate sex with his worst enemy—and I could only assume that my clothes at the very least were rumpled from being tossed unceremoniously to the floor.
Yes, I most definitely looked as though I’d just experienced a wild night with someone else. Which, of course, I had.
“You’ve been sneaking around all along, haven’t you?” he accused, and I didn’t bother to correct him. In five years I hadn’t been with anyone—Sal’s only problem with that inevitably being that I hadn’t been with Sal either—and it wasn’t until Nick appeared back in my life that things had spiraled out of control.
But Sal wouldn’t understand any of that, and in the end, he wouldn’t really care anyway so I didn’t waste my breath trying to explain the difference in things.
“You fucking slut,” he told me, spitting out the words until I actually saw spittle fly from his mouth towards the windshield. “You’ll sleep with Nick, that jailbird piece of shit, but not me? Not the man who has taken care of you for the last five years? Not the man who put a ring on your finger and promised to make you an honest woman? Not your fiancé? What sort of bitch are you?”
Unwilling to continue just listening to his ranting tirade, I wasted my time. I begged him to let me go. “Please, Sal, don’t do this. Just please, please let me go! I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything!” Which I may or may not have actu
ally been. Part of me wished that tonight hadn’t happened. More than that, part of me wished that Nick had never strolled back into my life, because I would always give in to him no matter what. But the rest of me knew that it didn’t matter. I never would have been happy with Sal and this monster within would have come out eventually. There was no stopping that. In fact, part of me should have been grateful for Nick’s intrusion into my life. After all, there was no way I would be marrying Sal now.
Of course, there was also a really good chance that I would never marry anyone. In fact, I would probably be dead soon.
The thought made my stomach twist and churn into uncomfortable knots, my hands shaking at the idea that maybe I wouldn’t see another sunrise. I was going to die and no matter how bad my life was in shambles, I didn’t want to die.
“Sorry?” Sal barked out a laugh, cold and punishing. “No, you’re not fucking sorry. Not yet. But you will be.”
I tried to swallow past a lump of dread as I realized that there was no getting out of this.
I was dead.
Chapter Thirteen
Nick
I was sitting on the couch, my makeshift bed, with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands. I hadn’t been able to think much past Zoe and all that had happened—all that had been said. It was eating me alive to know that I’d told her she was awful, a traitor, and worse than that. That she was selfish and had never loved me like I loved her.
But how was I supposed to know?
I thought of Zoe. She had a sweet face that made her youthful and would probably continue to do so even when she was in her forties and fifties. Her hair was wild and thick, the kind that you wanted to tangle your hands in and tug on. And her body…
God, how I loved that fucking body.
She was built like a porn star rather than a model, her waist tiny, but her breasts strained against every shirt she ever owned and her hips flared out in the most deliciously perfect way that I’d ever seen in a woman. Hourglass was meant to describe her body. She was the kind of woman you wanted to grab handfuls of and haul to you, because you wanted to feel her, dive into her, and listen to the sounds and watch the faces she made.
And that was probably enough for most guys. Her body, her youth were what attracted more than one suitor her way and it had been a big reason why Zoe and I hadn’t dated until years after we met. She was so used to the kind of guy who took one look at her tits and decided she was worth fucking and having on his arm, but nothing more.
But that wasn’t why I wanted her.
The physical attraction was great. I loved wanting her the way I did and my cock strained against my jeans every time I thought of her, but that wasn’t why I loved her in the end. I loved her because she had a plan for life and the determination to see it through.
We were meeting at the strip mall because there was a tattoo shop at the end, a cheap café on the opposite side and a bike shop between them. There were other things, too, like clothing shops and one of those stores that sold knickknacks and other useless junk, like the little porcelain angel dolls that kind of freaked me out. My step-mom liked to collect them and they always seemed to stare at me when I walked into the house.
The other stores didn’t mean a lick to me, but some of the guys were bringing their girls—and I’d invited Zoe—so I figured if they got bored, they could go occupy themselves with something generally frivolous and dumb.
The girls arrived on the backs of bikes, clinging to the several friends I’d asked to come along. Bobby was going to get a tattoo—his first one, which had us all laughing, because I’d had one since seventeen—and the rest of us were mostly just here for moral support. And to laugh our asses off if he cried at the whole thing.
The bike shop here was where I’d picked up my Harley and I was going to look around there when watching Bobby get tattooed became too boring. I was hoping that I could talk Zoe into going with me. Some alone time with her was exactly what I craved.
Bobby dismounted from his bike, untangling the hands of the redhead behind him. She pouted a little, but I figured it was mostly in play, because he put his arm across her shoulders and she smiled at him.
“Hey, Nick, how you been?”
“Good,” I answered, and started walking towards the tat shop. Others followed us—there were four of us guys and three girls. Zoe hadn’t showed yet and I was beginning to think she wouldn’t. She was like that sometimes, cancelling on big group get togethers, usually because she didn’t care for the type of company I entertained.
Her words, not mine.
“You know what you’re getting?” I asked as I pulled out my cell phone. I was texting Zoe to see if she was coming and even offered her a ride if that was part of the issue.
Bobby beamed at me, his grin a little goofy. “Yep, sure do.”
“It’s something stupid, isn’t it?” asked Mark, one of the other guys who’d tagged along. We got along okay, but I didn’t go out of my way to spend time with him or anything.
“Shut up, Mark,” Bobby snapped at him. He returned his attention to me. “It’s a heart that says ‘Eternity.’”
Mark instantly burst out laughing and I had to admit, I wasn’t far from doing so myself. If I hadn’t been so distracted texting Zoe, I probably would have. “Eternity?” was all I said instead.
Bobby must have said something in response, likely defending himself, but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead of telling me that she needed a ride or bailing completely, she told me she was here. I glanced up from my phone, letting the guys and their giggling girls go ahead, and looked around for her.
There was a bus stop not too far from where we all were and I saw that people were just getting off. One of the last ones was Zoe.
My mouth tugged into a smile of its own accord and I waved my friends ahead. “Go on. I’ll catch up in just a minute.” Then I jogged over to meet Zoe at the bus stop.
“Hey,” I greeted, half breathless, and not from the run, though I hoped that was what she would think. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”
She made a face. “I almost didn’t. I should be putting in more applications if I really want to get in, not going and doing crazy kid things.” It might have been an admonishment, but she was smiling as she said it and I couldn’t feel the burn.
“You’ve got forever for that. How many times are you going to get to see Bobby get his first tattoo?” I countered, then grinned broadly. “It’s going to say Eternity.”
She actually laughed at that, a sound I loved and so often tried to bring out in her. “Wow, and no one told him that might be a little…well…”
“Stupid?” I offered.
She nodded.
“Hey, the first one is supposed to be stupid. One giant mistake, you know? After that, we’ll tell him what’s up.”
She proceeded to tell me how she thought that was rather ridiculous and how. as a true friend, I should be in there counselling him against being a moron. I told her that it was a lost cause and she laughed again.
I had my hands shoved into my pockets as we slowly made our way towards the tattoo parlor where our group was already gathered. I risked a sideways glance at her, not really wanting her to catch me staring at her, but kind of at the same time.
She had dressed up a little bit, at least for her. She wasn’t wearing sweats or those boyfriend jeans that were baggy and hung off her hips—which could also be sexy, since they exposed a long strip of her abdomen and there was something about fabric hanging off of those flared, perfect hips of hers that drove me absolutely crazy. Instead, she’d opted for skinny jeans—which I loved because she had the most perfect legs—and a thin t-shirt that was at least fitted and cut into a low V, showing off her lovely cleavage. Beyond that it was a pair of sneakers and her hair down, wild and hanging about her delicate shoulders.
That was one of the things I loved about Zoe. She didn’t have to wear a ton of makeup or wear fancy dresses or a lot of that junk that othe
r girls did. All she had to do was be comfortable with herself and she was so striking that it stole my breath sometimes.
We made it to the shop in time to see Bobby start to sweat before the guy applied the needle. He squirmed and gritted his teeth, but I would give him credit: he didn’t cry.
A couple of the guys were disappointed and the girls were bored, whining and asking to do something fun. Zoe said little, because she was a little awkward in groups of people she didn’t know well, but she watched with interest and when she wasn’t watching she was walking around the room checking out the examples of tattoo designs.
She was standing in front of a butterfly when the other girls decided it was time to go. They asked her to tag along, but Zoe wasn’t interested in dress shopping, so she declined quickly. The door was closing behind the last girl when I came to stand just behind Zoe.
