His words cause me to think, hoping to distract him. Even though my heart is pounding out of my chest and my nerves are on a fritz, I know that someone has to be looking for me now. I’ve been gone way too long, and they’ll be biting at the bit to find me.
“How come I didn’t notice your voice? It’s changed. With the memories from that night and the night Debra died, they don’t match up.”
He releases a sickening laugh. “Money can change a lot of things, little girl. It’s a good thing I had a benefactor, or you would have noticed me the second you saw me. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing if you did, but I had to play it say, for the both of us.”
This is so messed up.
“D-Derek, please,” I try once more. “You don’t have to do this. There are other ways.”
“Like what, huh? It’s you and me, Jessalyn. You and me. I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way.”
He’s adamant in his decision. I will rot down here for the rest of my life if he has any say so in the matter. With all the shit going down at the station between Debra’s death and all the sexual assault charges with Alessandra and Mr. T, no one will focus on the eighteen-year-old girl that has a pension for being rebellious.
The only people that will look for me are the guys, my father, and possibly the founders of the Empire. They know I wouldn’t just run. They will know someone took me, even if it was I that ran right into his trap.
I heave a breath. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“I already have.” He continues to pace, his head jerking noticeably every few steps, as if he’s fighting some inward battle. “I tried to warn you. I killed your mom when I found out she was hurting you—what else do I have to do to prove you’re it for me?! Huh? Kill that bitch Lennox? Thompson, Rice, or those pathetic whiny bitches that cohort with Alessandra?”
“Just let us go.” It should be pretty fucking obvious.
Derek stops pacing, his eyes vacantly roam over the wall in front of him as a sinister smile twists his features. He glances back at me, then stomps over to my chair, bracing his hands over mine. The smell of sweat and body odor immediately assault me. “Do I need to kill them? They hurt you, right? They’ll hurt you again, and again, and again—” He nods, pleased. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. That way the only person left will be me.”
“Derek! No!”
Crushing his lips against mine, he steals a quick kiss. His hands roam over my body, and I can tell from the deep groans coming from his chest that he’s into it. Unlike me. I’d never be into someone like him. It’s pathetic, demented.
Tears prick my eyes as he roughly kneads my breast. When he tries to deepen the kiss by poking his tongue forward, I clamp my mouth shut tighter. It doesn’t matter, though. He groans and moans, fingers digging into my tangled strands and a hand pawing at me chest.
I gag, feeling stomach bile rise into my throat. He abruptly stands to his full height with a pleased look on his face. A knot forms in my stomach when I see the glimmering sheen of death and mayhem.
“You deserve the world, little girl, and I will bring it to you in fours. I’ll even let you watch, starting with him.” He points toward Asher.
CHAPTER 29
The sound of metal grinding against stone steals me from my drug-induced sleep. I sit silently, watching as he works, all the while he hums some tune under his breath. It’s familiar; whimsical and tranquil. I know I’ve heard it somewhere before, but the memory is lodged deep in the cavern of my mind. He gets a few verses into it before I realize what it is. And when I do, I can’t stop the sickness from revolting inside me.
He’s so deeply embedded into my life that he knows the lyrical tune I made up when I was a child. Nothing more than a few notes and verses that would always make me feel better when Debra was being extra mean toward me. He hits every pitch with perfection, a richness to his tone that defies the monster he is on the outside.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he cuts off, and I can hear the grin in his voice. “I’ve had to wait years to get this far, and I can damn near taste you on my tongue again.”
A twang of bitterness rises into my throat, thinking about what he plans to do with me. All I know is, I’d rather die than be at the mercy of his hands. I’d take a bullet to the brain, ceasing my life on this earth entirely.
“Sweetheart.” A voice whispers. My eyes widen as I dart a look over my shoulder to make sure Bexley is too preoccupied to notice. My eyes fill with tears of relief when they turn back and settle on Asher.
“Asher,” I murmur. “I’m so happy to hear your voice.”
“They’re coming.” He coughs, and it’s a wet, sickening sound that has my spine tingling with unease.
“What?”
“Coming. Trail.” He coughs again, wheezing.
Furrowing my brows, I tilt my head to the side, trying to piece it together. When realization dawns, I can’t fight the smile from fixating on my lips. I don’t know how he knows everyone is looking for us, but I’m relieved that he’s at least steady in his knowledge of his friends and family. Knowing my luck, they’ve probably been trained for situations just like this one, and that’s why he’s not freaking out as bad as he is. Either that, or he just doesn’t have the strength.
Just then, I hear a loud clang. And I’d swear it was the sound of my heart pounding in my chest if it didn’t accompany the sound of hinges being broken off an old, enervated door. Asher timed that almost too perfectly. I eye him, watching as he lifts his head, shooting a wink toward me.
“What the fuck?!” Bexley roars.
I hear him drop what was in his hands, his feet pounding the ground. A startled screech of terror rips from my throat as he snaps off my binds and strong-arms me into his chest. A cool, metallic circle presses against the side of my temple, causing a tremble of fear to wreak havoc on my body. The door pushes open in front of us, and I fall over myself when Derek shifts backward.
Peering up, I weep at the sight. Three muscular frames stand in the doorway, fury tensing their bodies as they square off with Derek. Callum, Quinn, and Ellis—they came for us! I knew, above all else, their dominating personalities wouldn’t allow them to go without knowing where we were.
And they’re not alone.
Our fathers and Davis are standing just behind them, wearing matching expressions of outrage and anger. They’re no longer wearing their suits and loafers, nor blue jeans and Henleys. Now, they’re dressed down in full tactical garments. They look like little toy soldiers, and if I weren’t in the situation I am in now, I’d probably get a kick out of it.
The pressure of the gun increases as Derek shifts backward. “Guys!”
“How did you find us?” Derek asks in a low-timbered growl.
Callum’s father steps forward, a stoic expression pulling over his features. “It wasn’t too hard to follow the stench, Bexley. We followed your little pathetic breadcrumbs.” A lie, but the bastard holding me doesn’t have to know that.
My father always told me not to anger a person with nothing to lose, because they won’t care one bit to pull the trigger. Derek, I can say with absolute certainty, has nothing to lose, and he most definitely has a trigger he can pull. Just so happens, it’s aimed right at my temple.
“Fuck you!” He juts forward, digging the barrel of the gun into my temple so hard I cry out in pain.
“Hurt her again, motherfucker, and you’ll have me to deal with,” Callum barks out, taking a menacing step forward.
Derek tilts his head back and releases a bout of sinister laughter. It echoes around the warehouse, and if at all possible, could peel paint off the walls with its deranged effect. “You really don’t have a leg to stand on, boy. I’ll have a bullet in her head before you can move a step.”
“I’ll gladly die for her, Derek. Can you say the same?” he sneers, eyes alight in maniacal glee. “Besides …” A smirk. That’s all I get before it happens. That’s all I get before everything goes straight to hell. “We di
dn’t come alone.”
The sound of glass shattering echoes just before the aftershocks of gunfire reach my ears. My breath halts in my chest as a bone-sickening grunt of pain sounds from behind me. The gun pressing against my temple falls away just as fast as it was placed there, his finger squeezing the trigger blindly in front of him.
There’s a shock to my system that fights against what’s happening. My body is still in survival mode, as I stand here trembling and frightened of what’s to come next. But the only thing that happens is Callum stopping short. His face goes slack, rapidly paling as shock flutters in his irises. It’s there for just a split second, but enough for me to catch it. His expression is unreadable as he peers toward me. The sound of Derek falling to the ground, dead, doesn’t even register.
I wrap my arms around myself as I continue to stare at him. “Callum?”
My eyes fall all over him, watching as his head cants downward. I follow his movement, a sick realization troubling me when my eyes catch on a bloom of red spreading on the front side of his tactical shirt. It’s right next to his ribs.
“Callum!”
Everyone is in an uproar as his father grabs for him. Callum looks at me in confusion before falling into his father’s chest, as all his strength leaves him.
“Callum!” I cry out, racing toward him. I get to him just as his father lowers him to the ground, and I wrap my arms around his body and pull him into me.
I cradle him in my lap, tears dripping off my face to land on his. There are shouts permeating throughout the open warehouse, but I can’t bring myself to look away from the man lying in my arms. Callum’s chest heaves up and down. A small, shadow of a chance that he’d get shot, and he does. How is that possible?
I notice nothing except the crackling of blood as it catches in his throat, bubbling out the side. Notice nothing as his eyes hold my gaze, silently pleading with me to do something. But there’s nothing I can do.
“Oh, baby,” I sob, rocking him. “Oh, no, no, no.”
With all my strength left, I hold my hand over the wound on his stomach. Blood continues gushing out past my fingers, more trickling from between his lips in a steady stream. He struggles, but it’s not to get away, it’s to form rasping words.
“Please, don’t.” I sniffle, barely holding back a gut-wrenching sob.
He chokes on a gurgle of crimson, throat bobbing in effort. “I …” He gasps. “I love you.”
“Callum don’t you fucking die on me!” I shriek.
I press my forehead against his, crying softly. “It’s supposed to be you and us, remember? Please, baby—don’t leave me.”
His eyes flutter; his body grows heavier with each passing second. “I’d die a thousand deaths to …”
He chokes again, convulsing as his body fights for survival. A heart beats once, twice, and on the third it shattered inside my chest. His face slackens of all emotion, transforming into a stoic mask.
It feels like a part of my soul dies right along with him. I bang on his chest, shake him, hoping that will bring him back to me. “No!”
Something snaps inside my chest, opening up and seeping through my veins. It’s cold, numb. My heart is a lifeless organ living in a chest of broken dreams and shattered futures. Hands grab for me, trying to break my hold on Callum’s lifeless body, but I don’t relent. I can’t let him go. Sob after sob wracks my system, rendering me futile. I scream as men come, prying him out of my arms to take him away from me.
“Come back!”
CHAPTER 30
Endless beeping echoes off the bare walls. It sounds of melancholy cathedral chimes, signaling the top of the hour. It’s a reverberation that reminds me of nuptials, but with none of the gooey declarations of love; the sentiments you feel as you stare into your best friend's eyes and say, ‘I do.’
It’s the opposite. It’s pain personified. Purging its thoughts from a mindless drum of grief.
The beep, beep, beep, is the only thing keeping me from bolting. If it weren’t for that one tiny, fissure of a hope, I’d be tempted to run to the nearest ocean and dive under the swells. I’d allow the warm, salty water to carry me adrift until there was no more fight left in my body.
“He’ll pull through,” Quinn whispers, hugging me to his side.
My eyes are swollen and raw from crying, but more tears drip in an endless stream of pain. “What if he doesn’t?” I choke out.
The bullet that shot from Derek’s gun clipped one of Callum’s lungs. It penetrated right between the clasps of his tactical vest. A freak incident; the doctor guesses one out of a million, because usually they’re very protected when in Kevlar.
If it hadn’t been for Coach Rice and his sniper skills, I wouldn’t be here, either. The moment he shot Derek, that’s when a trigger reaction arose. His muscle drew up, fingers tightened around the pistol, and he shot Callum. It was a string of events no one could have planned. They didn’t realize Derek was holding the gun as tight as he was. They didn’t realize his nervous system would clam up and his finger would jerk the extra centimeter, making the gun go off.
Now, Callum’s here, fighting for his life. The doctors put him into a medical induced coma, hoping that his body would heal itself. So far, it seems to be working, but only time will tell. The ventilator is doing all the work for him, so at this stage, it’s really too soon.
It’s already been a week. A week of not seeing his beautiful, ocean blue eyes. A week of not seeing that trademark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. A week missing him more than I’ve missed anyone in my entire life.
The guys feel the same. It’s like a part of us is on a standstill, moribund and unmoving. We’ve barely been clinging day by day with the hope that Callum will get better.
Putting my face in my hands, sorrow overcomes me. Quinn tightens his arms around my small frame, hugging me to his chest. “Maybe you should get some rest.”
My eyes close as I lean my head against Quinn’s shoulder, my hand coming up to settle right over my heart as it sluggishly beats inside my chest. Callum and I have been through so much in the past two years. We’ve overcome lies, trickery, and blackmail. We’ve overcome bullying and tormenting, all because of those lies.
But this may be something we can’t come back from, and it’s not my choice in the matter.
“If we lose him—” I bite my lip as more tears fall.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
My head throbs and my fingers itch to do something. Anything to take this crippling pain away. To take away the hollow pit inside that’s oozing residue out of my chest. I can feel it, sense it. But to an ordinary person they’d see me as perfectly fine. I’m not. I’m slowly losing what strength I have left, waiting on my love to wake me up from this nightmare.
A knock at his hospital door has my head lifting from Quinn’s shoulder. A man enters dressed in soft-pressed khakis, coral polo shirt, and white doctor's coat that hangs down to his knees.
“Hello. I’m Doctor Asghar, and this woman behind me is nurse Madelyn. I had hoped his father was in here so I could discuss our options.”
With a shaky exhale, I sit up on the edge of my seat. “What options?”
“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t discuss this with anyone other than family.”
At that moment, the door pushes open and two individuals walk through. Instant fire sparks in my soul when my gaze lands on Mrs. Lockridge. Her eyes spit the same hatred back toward me, but unlike her, I won’t put up with it. Callum doesn’t like her and he wouldn’t want her here to begin with. I don’t care if she is his mother. She wronged him.
“You need to leave.”
“Who do you think you are?” She scrunches up her face, making it look like she’s sucked on one too many lemons.
I stand to my feet, leveling Mr. Lockridge a glare that I hope burns him to his toes, before facing his wife once more. “I am Callum’s girlfriend; you’re just the bitch that tried blackmailing him.”
Her jaw t
icks in anger. She slowly smooths her hands down her dress and rights herself, as if she just now remembered where she was. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
At that, Mr. Lockridge rolls his eyes. “Come off it, woman. The only reason I brought you here is so you can tell your son goodbye. That’s it.”
“Goodbye?!” My hearts knocks painfully against my ribcage.
I crumble in on myself. Mr. Lockridge peers toward me, watching my reaction, then curses as it dawns on him. “I didn’t mean it like that, darlin.’ I meant the moment this thing says goodbye, that’s the last time she’ll ever see him.”
“So, he’s going to be okay?” I sniff, peering between him and the doctor.
The doctor glances toward Mr. Lockridge—who gives him a slight nod of permission—then back toward me. “He will make a full recovery, my dear. His wounds are healing quite nicely, and surgery took care of any lasting damages. Well,” he tips his head, smiling, “except for a scar, of course. But he’s a guy, he’ll love that.”
I wipe my tears, daring to unleash a half smile. “When can he wake up? What about the machine? Can we take him home? Whe—”
Doctor Asghar buts in, smiling. “One question at a time, dear. But to answer your main query, we were just about to ask you all to step out so we can take the ventilator out. Then, we will cut out the medicine that’s keeping him asleep. After that, it’s up to him when he wakes up.”
Mr. Lockridge shakes the doctor's hand, then escorts Mrs. Lockridge to Callum’s bedside. I watch as her face softens as she peers down at him. It almost looks like she loves him, only I know the truth. You don’t use someone if you love them. Instead, you feed off the love ciphering between the two, allowing it to bloom naturally and without force.
Love Me, Baby: A High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 3) Page 21
