Left in the Dust: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance (29 page)

Brody left me and I fell against the door in a crying mess. There was no way I could leave him if he didn't come back. I wasn't as strong as him. I couldn't go on the run by myself.
You're a fucking idiot, Erica.
I wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for drugs. I would have never met that bastard Jenkins. And Brody's life wouldn't have gotten ruined too.

But I wouldn't have met Brody if it hadn't been for the drugs. I wiped the tears from my face. No time to be a pussy. Time to man up.

I went to Brody's bedroom and searched the closet for a suitcase. I didn't want to be useless. I could get us a bag packed before Brody came back. That would get us out of here that much quicker. I found an old dusty duffel bag deep down under a pile of dirty clothes.

The bag was a little heavy and I set it on the bed and opened it up. A shotgun sat at the bottom with a collection of loose shells. I'd never seen a real gun before. Never held one in my hands. I pulled out the boomstick and it was heavy in my hands. Felt good. Felt powerful. I could take on the world with this. Brody would probably want to bring it along. I set it to the side on the bed.

I went back to the closet to look for some clothes. Brody had only one white shirt left on a hanger. The man didn't do laundry very often. I folded the shirt and placed it in the duffel. I scoured the rest of the apartment searching for anything that Brody might want to take with him. His place was just as barren as my heroin den.

A knock at the door startled me.
Could Brody be back so soon?
I didn't have any way of telling time but it couldn't have been more that twenty minutes since he left. I peeked out from the bedroom, down the hallway and to the front door. Another knock pounded at the door.

“Who is it?” I yelled out.

My heart froze when there was no reply. The front door burst open and two men with black ski masks came rushing in. My screams echoed through the apartment. I shut the bedroom door and ran to the bathroom. I saw the shotgun out of the corner of my eye and grabbed it. The men were already pounding at the bedroom door when I escaped into the bathroom.

Just like when Brody brought me here the first time and I was hopped up on heroin—there was no place for me to escape to. I could hear the door to the bedroom crash open. It would only be a few moments until they were upon me. I gripped the shotgun and pointed it at the closed bathroom door. My heart was beating in my ears. My hands quivered as I tried to steady the gun.

The bathroom door exploded open and I screamed, pulling the trigger.

Nothing happened. I tried squeezing one more time and nothing. Suddenly, I remembered the loose shotgun shells. I needed to load the damn thing.
Stupid Erica.

The two men had pistols and rushed me. I tried to use the shotgun like a bat but the first guy caught my swing and stole the gun from me. I clawed and kicked as much as I could until the other man hit me over the head with his gun.

The room spun around in circles until...blackness.

It took every ounce of strength to leave that hot piece of ass in my apartment. My balls were screaming at me to stay behind. Fuck her as many times as I could before the Kellys came for us. I was only kidding myself. Even if Erica and I were able to pull this off. Damon would never let me go. He'd use his last breath to hunt me down and kill me.

But I had to try...for Erica. If we could actually escape, I could feel her warm body beneath me, my cock sinking into her every night. It was worth a shot.

I killed the engine to my Dodge Charger next to an abandoned building on sixth street. I stepped out into the sun and looked up at the boarding school that housed me for years. The same place where I met the Kelly brothers and this whole thing got started.

The gate had a rusted sign that said: The Walter Payton Boarding School for Boys. A long chain and lock kept the place safe but that wouldn't stop a guy like me. I could pick it if I needed to but the walls were low enough. I heaved myself over and landed in a patch of overgrown weeds and grass. Nobody stepped foot in this place anymore and I didn't blame them. Too many bad memories.

I went around the decrepit mausoleum and came to the playground. I could still remember kids screaming and running around, playing handball and climbing on the jungle gym. I walked to the back wall of the boarding school and ran my fingers across the red bricks. Most of them were chipped and marked up. This was the spot that I finally found the courage to fight back.

Kids were beating the hell out of me daily. None of the adults cared. It wasn't until Damon took me under his wing and taught me how to use my fists, that I learned self-reliance.

This spot in the back of the boarding school was where I fought back for the first time in my life. The bullies stayed away from me after I sent that boy to the hospital. I had solved my problem with my fists and I didn't regret it for one second.

I knocked a couple loose bricks out and knew I'd hit the right spot. I reached my hand in as far as I could, straining and stretching. I pulled out a small rectangular tin box—the same box that I kept under my bed when I was kid.

I wiped the dirt off the top and opened it. A few ziploc bags full of cash were inside. I didn't even know how much was in there. I had stopped counting a long time ago. A guy in my line of work couldn't keep their money in a bank. If I were ever sent to jail, the cops could confiscate all my assets. This tin box was my little secret stash that nobody knew about—not even the Kellys.

I stuffed the bags of cash into plastic grocery bags and carried them back to my car. That should be enough to get Erica and I started in a new country. Mexico would be good place this time of year. I imagined Erica and I sipping margaritas on the beach, listening to the crash of the waves, enjoying the beautiful sun.

But we had to escape first.

I raced back to my apartment, doing my best to stay under the speed limit and not break any laws. I couldn't afford any heat at this point. If the cops stopped me with all this cash in the passenger seat, they'd surely bring me downtown to ask some question. Better to be safe than sorry.

I parked my Dodge a few blocks away from my apartment in an alleyway where nobody would find it. When the Kellys started looking for us, they would start with my car since it will be missing from my house. That will allow Erica and I just a little bit more time.

I came upstairs to my apartment to find the door wide open. My heart jumped into my throat and my hands curled into fists. “Erica?” I called out. The front door had been kicked in. I raced through the apartment clearing each room. I spotted my old duffel bag sitting on the bed. My shotgun lay on the floor in the bathroom. I picked it up and examined the gun. It hadn't been fired or loaded.

A spot of blood lay on the cracked wood floorboards.

The Kellys had taken Erica.

A blinding Steel in the back of my head woke me from sleep. I felt groggy—like after a long night of partying. I opened my eyes and realized that I wasn't in Brody's apartment anymore. I tried to move my hands but they were tied behind my back.

My memory came barreling back to me. I remembered two men breaking in. I tried to shoot them with the shotgun but it wasn't loaded.
Mental note: Get Brody to teach me how to use a gun.
Then I was hit over the head.

Could this get any worse?

I was sitting in what looked like the living room of a log cabin. The walls were wood and big beams were exposed up above. A large fireplace stood in the center, a fire crackling inside. The place was full of taxidermy: dead squirrels, fish, and a giant bear in the corner.
Where the fuck was I?

I tried again to break my restraints but the more I forced it, the more they cut into my wrists. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

A bald man poked his head out of the bedroom. “Russel, we got a live one.” His accent was distinctively Irish. He had to be one of the Kelly brothers.

Two tall and buff men came out of the bedroom walking together. They had very different builds than the ones that kidnapped me from Brody's apartment. The one on the right was the bald guy from before. Gold rings glittered on every finger of his right hand. From Brody's description, he had to be Damon. The other guy was a little older, had long brown hair, and tattoos covering every inch of his skin except for his face. Definitely Russel.

“Welcome back,” Damon said, kneeling down in front of me and rubbing his cue-ball head. “I can see now why Brody wanted to keep you all to his self.”

“She's one hot piece of ass.” The other brother ran his finger down my cheek. I snapped my head to try and bite him but missed. “This one is feisty. I like that. Keep that attitude for when we have a little fun later. I love biters.”

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked.

Damon laughed and settled on a evil grin. “What do you think we want?”

They both looked hungry. They looked me up and down, eyeing me like a piece of meat. They'd take my body before the day was done. I had to do whatever it took to stop them.

“Please I don't know anything.” I shook my head, trying to keep from crying. I had to be tough. Tough for Brody.

Damon palmed my chin and squeezed my cheeks until my tongue rolled out. “This mouth looks good enough to fuck, doesn't it Russel?” He turned my face so Russel could get a good look.

“Looks nice, but I think I'd rather fuck those big tits of hers.” Russel grabbed at my blouse and ripped it down until my breasts in a black bra were exposed. “God damn, those need to be sucked.”

“Please don't,” I begged, trying to speak with Damon still squeezing my face. The tears came out and I cried at just the fact that I couldn't stop myself.

Damon let go of me. “Just tell us where the dealer is and we won't touch you. Simple as that.”

“I already told Brody everything I know.”

Russel glanced at Damon and then back at me. “We both know that Brody has a soft spot for women. He wouldn't lay a finger on you. But don't think that we'll give you the same courtesy.”

“I don't know where he is,” I blurted out.

“Wrong answer.” Damon backhanded me, his gold rings catching my lips. I saw stars for a moment. Blood trickled from my mouth and dripped onto the floor. “Tell us where he is!”

“I don't know!” I screamed out through my tears.

Conner knocked Damon out of the way. “We could sit here all day and beat the living shit out of you. But that gets boring after awhile. We're going to take our turns having you over and over again. That's going to happen no matter what. But we can make it easier on you.” Russel produced a baggy from his pocket. The grayish powder was instantly familiar: heroin. “Tell us where the dealer is and we'll take all the Steel away.”

The veins in my arms craved it—pleaded with me to take it from them and inject it immediately. It had only been a couple days since being clean and it was the longest I'd been clean since I started. With a high I'd be able to deal with whatever they were going to do to me.

But I couldn't go down that dark hole again. No matter what they did to me. I wasn't that junkie anymore. I was Brody's girl now.

“No thanks,” I replied, spitting in Russel's face.

Russel wiped my saliva from his cheek. “I'm liking this chick more and more. You'll be moaning my name soon enough, bitch.”

“Now we're trying to be nice here,” Damon said. “Tell us what you know about the dealer or we'll shove this junk down your throat.”

Russel bent down and opened the baggy in front of my face. I couldn't let them do it. I needed to buy some time. “All right, all right. I'll tell you where he is.”

“Good girl.” Damon smiled, waving Russel away. Russel closed the bag of heroin and walked away.

“Jenkins is in California.”

“California?” Damon asked. “What would he be doing in California?”

“He told me once when we were high, that if he ever got a big score, that he'd retire in California.” It was all bullshit, every word. I never spoke much with Jenkins. Just let him do whatever he wanted to my mouth in exchange for a high.

“California's a big state. Your information doesn't help us much.”

Sweat was dripping down my temples. I knew Damon would want more info. I'd never been to California before and the only city I could think of was Hollywood.

“He said he wanted to move to Hollywood where all the movie stars live. If you give me a map I can show you exactly where.”

Damon slapped my cheek lightly. “Now see, that wasn't too hard.” He turned towards Russel. “Find me a map of Hollywood.” He glanced back at me and grabbed his balls. “Don't get too comfy now. The real fun is about to begin.”

They both left the room and I finally let out all my breath. I needed to escape. I'd rather die than let them take my body. I struggled with the restraints some more but it was no use. They were tied to a pipe behind me.
How was I going to get out of this?

Damon returned and I knew it was all over. “I get you first,” he announced, the most devilish grin stretching across his face.

“No...please don't. I did everything you asked.” I pulled on the restraints as hard as I could trying to break the pipe. “I told you where Jenkins is. Now let me go!”

Where was Brody when I needed him most?

“There's no use struggling,” he said, walking slowly towards me. “This is going to happen whether you like it or not. And I know your going to like this.” Damon unzipped his pants and unveiled his hard boner. I shut my eyes and turned my head out of disgust. His cock was only inches away from my face. The thought of biting it off came to my mind. There was no way in hell I was going to let him near me with that thing.

“Brody will come for me,” I said defiantly.

Damon cackled. “Oh I hope so. He needs to pay for his betrayal. I might tie him up and make him watch as we take our turns with you. Then I'll slit your throat right in front of him. I'll only end his life when he's endured enough suffering.”

A crash behind us delayed the activities.

“Oy Russel, what the fuck you doing back there?”

Brody came out of the room dragging Russel's body limp body behind him.

My hero had come.