From Roses To Thorns - Sequel To "From Nanny To Wife" (8 page)

"No," Hope croaked, trying to break free.

"Then you leave me no choice." He brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Hope's head. She saw white flash before her eyes and then everything went black. The figure scooped her up into his arms and hurried to the van parked down the street. The sound of sirens in the distance shattering the silence.

When Hope came to, she found herself in a dimly lit room. There were no windows and the only furniture in the small space was the bed she was lying on. Her head throbbing, she attempted to sit up and realized she was tied to the bed. One end of the rope encircled her wrists; the other end was tied to the headboard. Fear raced through her and she struggled to break free.

"It won't work, Hope," a male voice said. "I've made sure you can't escape."

Hope glanced up at the man. He was dressed in black from the ski mask he had on his head to the clothes he wore. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I can't answer that," he said, moving closer. "I'm sorry, but you can't know my name."

Hope took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He shot you. Why aren't you hurt?"

He grinned. "I wore a bullet proof vest. I've thought of everything, Hope."

"How- how do you know my name?"

He sighed. "Again, I can't answer that."

Hope felt a moment of anger. "You can't answer anything. Why don't you take that mask off and face me like a man? You coward."

Anger flashing in his eyes, he struck Hope on the cheek. "You're going to pay for that."

Tears sprang to Hope's eyes. "You won't get away with this," she said coldly.

The figure cocked his head to one side. "Oh, but I will."

"Why are you doing this?" Hope demanded to know. "I haven't done anything to deserve this."

He leaned down and caressed Hope's face with the back of his hand. "He has to pay for what he has done."

"Who are you-"

"No more questions. I've put it off long enough." His hands went to Hope's blouse. He grabbed handfuls of the material and ripped it open, buttons went flying.

Fear such as she had never known before came over Hope. She tried moving away from him and found she could not. The rope restricted her movement. "N-no, p-please don't."

"I'm not going to rape you, sweetheart." He smiled cruelly. "I'm going to torture you. Don't bother fighting. It won't do you any good. Now I'm going to go out into the hallway and get the things I need. Wait until you see what I have. You're going to go crazy."

Hope pulled at the rope, the rough cord digging into her wrists. Sweat coated her skin and her heart pounded in her ears. She thought of Ryan and Zoe and knew she would never see them again…never hold them and kiss them…never tell them how much she loved them. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She closed them and prayed to God that her death would be quick.

"Open your eyes, Hope. I want you to see what I'm going to do to you."

"Go to hell," Hope snarled, refusing to obey his command.

He chuckled softly. "You're full of fire and spirit. I wonder how long it will take me to break you. Tell me, Hope. Have you ever heard of a branding iron? They're generally used to brand cattle."

Hope's breath caught in her throat. She opened her eyes to find him standing over her. In his hands was an iron rod with the letter "R" on the tip. The letter was glowing bright red.

"Where shall I mark you?" he asked. "I'm thinking the lower left side of your belly. It would look nice there, don't you think?"

As the red-hot iron drew closer to her, Hope's breath began to come in shallow pants. "D-d-don't. I'm begg-"

"I'm sorry."

Hope screamed in agony as the iron met her belly. The scent of burning flesh caused bile to rise in her throat. Her quivering body arched off the bed, the rope creaking in protest. She fought hard not to pass out.

"How does it feel, Hope? Does it feel like a thousand fire ants stinging you?"

Hope grew weak and fell back onto the bed. Pain rolled over her in waves. "If you're going to kill me, then do it now," she whispered brokenly. "Please, do it now."

"I'm not going to kill you," he told her. "After I'm through with you, I'm going to drop you off at the hospital. For the plan to work you have to live. Should it be your left or right leg that I break? Wait, I have a better idea." He held up a knife for her to see. The long blade glinted in the light. "You have lovely skin. It's a shame I have to ruin it."

Two hours later, the van pulled up in a dark corner of the hospital. The figure got out and slid the side door of the automobile open. He picked an unconscious Hope up, moved around the front of the van, and gently laid her bloody and broken body on a bench where someone would be sure to find her. Thrilled that he had pulled the plan off without a hitch, he walked back to the driver's side door, whistling. Grinning, he closed the back door, and got behind the wheel. After one last glance at Hope, he put the van in drive and drove away.

Chapter 11

Ryan sat alone in the waiting room, waiting for the doctor to come out and speak with him. He was leaning forward on the chair, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to find the doctor and demand answers to the questions that were eating away at him. Tired of sitting there and doing nothing he stood and moved toward the window.

While Ryan glanced out into the darkness, he thought back over the past several hours. As long as he lived, he will never forget the phone call from Maggie telling him that Alex had been shot and Hope kidnapped. He had hung up the phone and rushed home to find police cars in the driveway and police walking around the yard. It had been like a scene from a horror film.

"Mr. Kendall."

Ryan quickly turned to face the doctor. "Tell me about my wife," he demanded.

"Please, sit down."

Ryan took a seat and looked at the man in the white coat. "When can I see her?"

"After we talk, you may see her." The doctor settled in the chair across from Ryan. "Mr. Kendall, there is no easy way to tell you this, but your wife was tortured."

"What do you mean she was tortured?" Ryan growled.

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. "She has a concussion. Her arms and legs are covered with cuts. Some are shallow while others are deep. Her right leg is broken in two places. From the way her wrists look, I believe she was tied up. There are no signs of assault." He paused for a moment. "Have you ever heard of a branding iron?"

Ryan's heart skipped a beat. "Yes."

"Hope has a burn in the shape of the letter "R" on the lower left side of her abdomen. I asked her how she got it and she told me it was from a branding iron."

Ryan's face turned deathly pale as sickening images popped into his head. His stomach churned and he took a deep calming breath. "Is she experiencing any pain?"

"Yes," the doctor answered. "I had the nurse give her something to ease her discomfort."

"When can I take her home?" Ryan asked.

"I would like to keep her for a few days for observation. I want to keep an eye on her burn. If it starts showing signs of infection I'll need to get her started on an antibiotic."

Ryan cleared his dry throat. "Can you tell me anything about a man that was brought in earlier with a gunshot wound? His name is Alex Crawford and he's Hope's bodyguard. I know she will want to know how he's doing."

"I checked on Mr. Crawford a little while ago. He is in stable condition. Tell Hope he will be fine. I'll let you go see her now. If you have any more questions don't hesitate to ask me."

Ryan nodded. "Thank you."

The doctor got to his feet. "You're welcome. Turn right at the nurse's station, go down the hall, through the double doors at the end and then turn left. Hope's room is the second one on the right."

Ryan followed the doctor's directions and found a man in a rumbled suit standing outside Hope's room. The man showed his badge, identification, and said he wanted to ask Hope some questions.

"Can't it wait?" Ryan snapped. "My wife was just tortured."

"I know, Mr. Kendall," the detective said. "That's why I'm here. I want to know what happened. The sooner your wife tells me what the sick son of a bitch did to her the sooner I can catch him."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Let me talk to her and see if she is up for it."

"Thank you."

Ryan opened the door and stepped into the room. Making his way to the bed, he saw Hope's eyes were closed. His gaze roamed over her body and noticed the rope burns on her wrists. Gently he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the tender skin. Hope opened her eyes. Without saying a word he bent down and brushed his lips across hers, warming her cold lips. Drawing back slightly, he stared at her.

"I love you," Hope whispered hoarsely. "I thought I was going to die and that I would never see you again…never hold you or kiss you."

Ryan caressed her cheek with his fingertips, his eyes bright with emotion. "I love you, too. If I had lost you life wouldn't have been worth living."

Hope blinked back a sudden rush of tears. "Is Alex-"

"He's going to be fine," Ryan assured her. "The doctor said he's in stable condition."

"Thank God," Hope croaked.

"Sweetheart, there's a detective waiting in the hallway," Ryan said. "He wants to ask you some questions. Do you want me to tell him to go away?"

"I'll t-talk to h-him."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked.

"Yes," Hope mumbled. "Will you stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Ryan declared, moving toward the door. "I plan on staying with you all night." He opened the door and looked out at the detective. "She's willing to talk."

The detective moved past Ryan and strolled toward the bed. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mrs. Kendall."

"It's Hope," she told him.

"All right," he said, removing a pen and a small notebook from the inside pocket of his suit coat. "Call me Joe."

"Have a seat, Joe," Hope said.

"Before you get started." Ryan glanced down at Hope. "Do you need anything?"

"No," she said softly. "I just want to get this over with."

"I'll try to make it as brief as possible," Joe said, sitting down on the chair next to the bed.

Hope turned her head on the pillow and gazed at the detective. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Let's start where your bodyguard was shot."

"It was dark out," Hope said. "The security light wasn't working, so we had to walk to the door in darkness. We were halfway across the yard when Alex fell to the ground. Alarmed, I dropped to my knees beside him and asked him if he was all right. He told me to get in the house…to run. I didn't understand. He said he had been shot. I didn't hear the gun go off. He wanted me to get in the house, lock the door, and call 911."

"The perpetrator more than likely used a silencer," Joe said. "That's why you didn't hear the gun. Please continue."

"I looked down at Alex and saw a dark stain on his shirt. That's when I knew it was real. I couldn't leave him there on the ground to bleed to death. He needed me. I didn't see the man creeping up on me, but Alex did. He pulled his gun out, rose to his knees, and fired the gun. He got to his feet and moved toward the man lying face down on the ground. Alex nudged him with his foot and that's when it happened. The man kicked Alex's feet out from under him and hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious. I need some water."

Ryan picked up the water pitcher from the bedside table and filled a cup with the cold liquid. He helped Hope raise her head off the pillow and placed the cup to her lips. Once she was finished, he put the cup down and lowered her head back to the pillow.

"Thank you, love," Hope muttered. "Where was I?"

Joe consulted his notes. "Alex was knocked unconscious."

"I tried to run to the house, but he grabbed me. I struggled against him. It was no use. He was too strong for me. When I wouldn't cooperate, he hit me in the head with his gun. I lost consciousness. When I came to, I found myself tied to a bed. I was so afraid and I tried so hard to get loose. He said it wouldn't work and that he made sure I couldn't escape."

"Describe him for me," Joe said.

"He was wearing all black," Hope said. "He had on one of those ski masks so I couldn't see his face. The sleeve of his shirt rolled up and I could see he had a small tattoo of a snake on the inside of his wrist. He had brown eyes. I can't tell you anything else."

"That's all right," Joe said. "What happened next?"

Ryan stood there with his hands balled into fists, wanting desperately to punch something. He tried not to let his anger show as he listened to Hope talk.