Haynes, K. R. - The Light in Her Eyes [In Her Eyes] (Siren Publishing Classic) (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

With Mary J still sleeping in the room across the hall from her, Chloe crept down the hall and out the front door without her friend noticing. She
half expected to see the fiery redhead come barging out the front door as soon as she turned the keys in the ignition to start her car. But there was nothing. No reaction from inside the house at all.

After a late night of drinking and dancing, she could hardly blame her friend for wanting to sleep in. Hell, Chloe wished she, too, could’ve slept in until well after midday herself. Her head was still aching slightly even after taking something for it. Plus, sleeping in was not an option for her today. A few hours of freedom was, however.

Freedom. Such a simple word with a simple meaning. Who knew it could mean so much to her?

Turning onto the street she lived on, Chloe felt this instant eeriness in the air. She couldn’t explain the reasons behind it. She even had goose bumps forming on her arms, causing her to shiver involuntarily when she parked her blue bubble of a car at the end of her driveway.

She even glanced out the front windows of her car, to see if anything was, well, off. She hadn’t been back to her place for a few weeks, and needed to be here. She needed to grab some more clothes so she had something else to wear, other than the minuscule amount clothing she had back at Randall’s place. Plus, Chloe needed to be surrounded by her own things, her own possessions even if only for a short time.

There was no doubt in her mind, once Mary J rose she would alert the men to her disappearance and they’d all be out looking for her. Chloe hoped Randall or Mick found her first. Jake made her too nervous with that foreboding look of his.

Strolling up to the front door, Chloe felt eyes hovering on her. She shivered. Uneasiness rolled throughout her body. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching her. There was no one around. In fact the whole street seemed quiet, far too quiet for a Saturday morning.

It might be only just after ten o’clock in the morning, but that didn’t stop the chaos that comes with Saturday mornings. Normally the kids from two doors down would be out on their bikes playing with the neighbours’ kids from across the road from them. The old couple next door to her place were usually out in the front yard gardening. Plus the street was never short of a garage sale or two on Saturday mornings.

However, none of that was happening this Saturday morning. Nothing was happening at all.

All was quiet on her street. Too quiet.

The eeriness Chloe felt upon her arrival at her home increased the moment she pushed the key into the lock on her front door.

She knew the moment the front door opened without her even turning the key, she had made a dreadful mistake in coming here alone.

In coming back to the place she had called home.

The nightmare she had been having at night was about to become her reality.

He was here.

The sick bastard after her had been waiting for her inside her home.

Inside the house she thought of as her own.

She couldn’t see the bastard’s face, due to the black mask covering his features. His dark clothing, hiding any marks or tattoos on his body, all made him look like a dark-clothed ghost. Swallowing hard at the fear lodged in her throat, Chloe tried to process in her mind all that was happening around her. Everything seemed to transpire in slow motion though, making it difficult for her own mind to comprehend anything when he lunged for her.

She tried to scream.

She tried to back away from him.

She tried to break free from his hold when he grabbed her and pulled her forcibly inside.

She couldn’t. He was far too strong for her to fight against.

Tears, hot, painful tears sprung to her eyes when his fist collided with the side of her face. His leather-covered hand closed over her mouth, preventing anyone hearing her scream.

Why, why did she leave Mary J’s house alone this morning? Why did she think she needed freedom when it was obvious to her now, freedom was not a luxury she could afford? It never had been since the day she received the bastard’s first message. And now she was going to pay the ultimate price for seeking a freedom she didn’t have the right to want or need.

His message of “Die, bitch” was going to happen now. There was no way to stop it. No one here but herself to fight for her own life.

She shuddered upon hearing the front door slam closed behind her, effectively trapping her inside her own home with him. Chloe tried to move her legs in an effort to stand up, but it was no use. Her body gave out and she slumped back down to the floor. When the bastard advanced on her again, she tried to protect herself by curling her body into a ball. It didn’t help. She felt the kick to her ribs and cried out when pain lashed up her body.

Her body trembled uncontrollably from the pain, from fear of what was going to happen to her.

The bastard snagged a fistful of her hair, hauling her to her feet.
Chloe screamed out at the pain it caused. More tears leaked from her eyes.
She had to fight back. She had to defend herself, it was the only way she could survive this. Another fist caught the side of her face, bouncing her hard against the wall. Her head ached and throbbed from the force of the blows. Her face was bloodied, bruised, and swollen.

In her mind, Chloe could hear Randall’s voice urging her to move to stand up and fight. Not to give up. Gingerly she rose to her feet, pushing past the pain whipping throughout her body, and lunged for the masked bastard. Her fist connected to his jaw and he stumbled back, more from surprise of her attack on him. Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough to stop him. The bastard advanced on her once again.

His eyes, so dark with rage, were the only thing Chloe had time to see before he slammed a fist to the other side of her head. She collapsed to the floor, lost to the pain from the hit. Blackness engulfed her vision. She was vaguely aware of her arms being pulled roughly behind her back. The bastard tied some kind of abrasive material around her wrists. The coarseness of the material burned and rubbed against her bare skin on her wrists.
Then to her utter disgust the bastard threw her limp body over his shoulder so hard her sore ribs collided heavily against his shoulder blades, causing her to lose her breath as pain once again exploded down her side. Her body finally gave up on the fight to stay awake and surrendered itself to the darkness of unconsciousness.

* * * *

Jake was surprised to see Chloe’s car parked in the driveway of her house when he drove past. Knowing she’d been staying over at her friend’s place, it seemed odd that her car would be here this morning. Shrugging, he drove on, figuring Chloe was probably hanging at her place with her friend watching a movie or something. Or whatever the hell women did for entertainment these days.

The street did seem quiet though. On his previous drive-bys in the mornings the busy suburban street was usually a hive of activity. Not today. Glancing up at the sky, it seemed, well, eerie. Dark clouds were moving in from the south, a storm expected later in the day.

Rain. Just what he needed. Not.

Jake made a mental note to himself to drive by Chloe’s place once his errands were done. If her car was still there, then he’d drop in and make sure everything was all in order. Putting his foot down on the accelerator, he drove up to the end of the street and headed into town.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Her head throbbed from the multiple blows she had received from the bastard. The skin on her wrists burned from the rope binding them tightly together. Slowly, Chloe opened one of her swollen eyes, peering out from underneath the lashes, realising she was still in her house. And, thank god, still fully clothed. She sighed with relief at the knowledge
she hadn’t been sexually assaulted while unconscious
. The action of sighing made her chest ache from the numerous kicks to the ribs she had received earlier from the bastard. She was going to be sore for days, if she survived this nightmare.

Not taking into account the punishment Randall would dish out to her for defying his orders. Randall’s type of discipline Chloe welcomed with open arms, loved even. What the bastard had been dishing out to her over the past couple of hours was something else entirely. This bastard’s form of physical punishment was something Chloe had to take against her own will. All because the bastard was fucked up in the head and had decided that she deserved this form of brutal abuse.

In her eyes, this wasn’t punishment. It was torture. Physical torture in the worst way. One of the cruellest kinds of physical torture a human being could do to another human being.

Yes, she might be a woman, which made her weaker than her male counterpart. But Chloe had the will to survive. Something the bastard probably never counted on her having. After all she was just a bitch to him, and a useless one at that. He was wrong to underestimate her though.

Chloe had something that gave her the will to live, the will to survive. Something this bastard had probably never had or believed in. Not that she cared what the bastard believed in. Her will to survive was Randall and the love he offered to her on a daily basis with or without her submission. Then there was the love she held in her heart for him. The love they gave to each other was her greatest form of strength for her own survival.

As she shifted her gaze around, trying to determine where the bastard might be lying low, Chloe tried not
to move her body around. She couldn’t draw his attention to her non-unconscious state.

She could still feel him, in her home.

She wasn’t actually sure where he was, but his evil presence lurked nearby.

The faint scent of gas assaulted her nostrils moments later. Then the black steel-capped boots of her attacker came into her line of vision not long afterward. Chloe willed herself not to look up at him, knowing that would only cause him to hurt her more. And she hurt enough to last her a life time.
She had to pretend to be still knocked out if she planned on getting out of here alive.

Hearing him grunt out a sting of profanities and other vulgar words, Chloe remained silent and still. Something that was hard to do especially when the bastard swung his leg toward her, the steel-capped boot of his colliding once again with her already tender ribs. Unbearable pain assaulted her. Biting down on her own her tongue, Chloe fought to hold in the scream of anguish wanting to escape past her bloodied split lips. She could not alert him to her being awake.

If he knew…oh god, if he found out that she wasn’t unconscious anymore it could get incredibly worse for her. Chloe knew this, so she screamed soundlessly on the inside. The intensity of the stinging agony racing throughout her body was more than she could handle. More than anyone could possibly handle.

She could feel herself slipping back into her unconscious state. She couldn’t allow herself to be sucked under again. She had to stay awake. Gas leaked from somewhere inside her home. She had to stay awake. The bastard was still inside her home. She had to remain awake to fight him.

Randall. His name, his words, his sparkling sky-blue eyes gave her comfort in her darkest hour. They provided the strength she needed to fight against the blackness clouding the edges of her mind. It would be so easy if she could succumb to the blackness. Then she wouldn’t have to live through all that was about to happen to her. If she let herself be taken by the blackness edging in her mind she could forget.

It was harder to remain awake, knowing that she would remember every little detail of everything the bastard did to her for the rest of her life.

Somewhere inside her, Chloe knew he would come for her. That Randall would find his way to her and rescue her from this nightmare.
She just hoped he wasn’t too late.
She wanted to scream her fury at the bastard hurting her now. But she couldn’t. When the bastard kicked her in the lower back, her body bucked from the unexpected force. She cried out in pain when he forced her to her feet by pulling her up by her own hair.

The bastard had being playing with her this whole time.

He knew damn well she had been awake.

Her body trembled from both the pain lashing through her and the fear of what the bastard had planned next for her.

With an open hand he slapped her hard across the face.
Tears streamed down her bloodied and bruised face when the bastard tore the front of her blouse open.
Chloe screamed “No!” at him. He didn’t stop though.

His leather-covered hands manhandled her breasts roughly through the black lace of her bra, bruising her flesh even more. Bile rose in her throat from his touch alone. His hands felt coarse against her flesh.
She tried to fight against him in an effort to dislodge the grasp he had on her.