Love You Always (16 page)

I better tell Jake that I might not be back until tomorrow afternoon, but in time for the drop-off.

I dial his number as I drive.

What the fuck?!

“Who the hell is this?” I ask when a female voice answers.

Christ, it must be the girl. What the fuck is she doing with Jake’s phone? She hangs up on me.

I start to panic now, cuz something must’ve gone wrong. Fucking great!

I step on the brakes, make a U-turn, and head back to the cabin like it’s my house on fire.

She called out a name. Marcus. Her brother. She answered like she was waiting for his call. She must’ve called him earlier. That means he might’ve called the cops. Fuck! I slam my fists on the steering wheel. Fuck! I slam them down again as I jam on the accelerator, barreling down the highway at 120 miles an hour.

What the hell did you do, Jake? How did she get your fucking phone? You fucked up big time!

Goddammit, if something happened to Jake, I gotta get back there to remove the evidence that’ll implicate me. I gotta find that bitch and get Jake’s phone. I’m fucking screwed if she gets away. Okay, calm down, she couldn’t have gotten far if she even went anywhere—not the way she freaks out just being outside. Yeah, there’s no way she could leave on her own. I’ll find her—she won’t be far.

I look at my watch. I was about half-hour out, and at this speed I should get back there in fifteen minutes. We chose a location on this stretch of highway because it’s free of cops making their rounds or hiding out waiting for speeders. It’s an old stretch of highway that runs off the main highway.

This would’ve been a perfect kidnap if Jake hadn’t fucked it up. I bet he tried to fuck the girl. Yeah, that fucking asshole must’ve let the bitch catch him off-guard. I told him not to mess with her in that way, but the fucker just couldn’t listen, he just had to dip his wick. I feel it in my gut, that’s what happened.

I’m almost there. With the back of my hand, I wipe the sweat from my forehead. I slow down and turn right onto the hidden patch of dirt road that leads to the cabin. I look in the rearview mirror and all I see is the huge cloud of dust I’m kicking up.

Okay, there’s the cabin. Christ. Jake’s on the ground with a shitload of blood. The bitch killed him. Fuck!

I step on the brakes as my tires slide to a halt. I jump out without closing the car door and run over to examine Jake. I look on the ground and see a few bloody footsteps leading into the woods. She must’ve stepped into his blood as she got up to leave.

Dammit, I told him he should’ve put her in the shed. Looks like she was able to get moving, but I don’t suspect she could’ve gotten very far, not in her condition. She’s barefooted too, so that’ll slow her down.

The bloody footsteps don’t last long, but it’s enough to give me the direction she went. I go a short ways and there’s blood on a few leaves. I walk slowly, carefully, and something tells me she’s probably not far.

I remove my phone from my pocket and dial Jake’s phone. My eyes turn to where my ears hear the ring tone. Bingo! The bitch is found.

The ring immediately stops. She’s turned it off, but it’s too late, I know where she’s at.

As I walk towards where the ring came from, I hear leaves rustle from behind the huge log straight ahead of me.

She hears my footsteps crackling the dead leaves and twigs below my feet because I see her head peek out. She slowly stands, her eyes are wide as they gawk at me in fright. For a moment, she’s petrified and can’t move, but she soon starts backing up as she watches me approach. Yeah, baby, you better be scared shitless, because I’m coming for you.

She turns and tries to run, but she stumbles. I’m so close, one foot’s on the log as the other hops over it. She’s on her belly, but as she tries to get up, I put my foot on her back to hold her down. Her fingers claw at the ground as she desperately tries to get away from me.

But her struggles are useless. She can’t get away.

My mouth curves a big grin.

I’ve got her now.

~* Angela *~

I can’t breathe, his foot holds me down, he’s pressing so hard.

“You’ve spoiled everything, bitch,” he says in a voice so cold it could freeze hell over.

Oh God, I feel my panic attack coming on.

The weight of the kidnapper’s foot releases me and he yanks me to my feet. A cold blade presses against my neck.

“If you give me any more problems, I’m gonna slit your pretty little neck.”

Before he can say another word, there’s rustling around us.

“FBI. Hold it right there,” I hear a voice yell out.

“Stay back or I’ll kill her.”

My eyes scan the men moving out from behind the trees, holding guns pointed at us. The kidnapper’s hand shakes uncontrollably and I flinch as the sharp blade slices me with small flesh wounds, not enough to do much damage, but enough that the pain causes me to hold very still.

“You’re surrounded, there’s no escape. Don’t make it worse for yourself,” the blonde-haired FBI agent says, his voice calm yet firm, but doesn’t antagonize.

What if this kidnapper has murdered others before? He won’t care if he adds me to his list.

Although I’m feeling nausea in the pit of my stomach and the cold sweats, my panic attack doesn’t seem to overcome me as radically as in the past. My body’s trembling, knowing this kidnapper could kill me with one swift stroke, but I try to hold it together, praying that the FBI’s words will sway him.

The kidnapper’s breath pants hard and fast against my ear, his fingers dig into my arm, gripping me tight.

“We have a sniper aiming straight at your head. He can take you out immediately, but we don’t want anybody hurt, we want everyone alive and well, including you.”

The kidnapper’s fingers dig even harder into my arm, but the knife at my throat still gets most of my attention.

“Okay. I wanna make a deal,” the kidnapper blurts out.

This is a good sign, because it means he needs me alive to be granted his wish.

“You want to make a deal? Tell me what you want,” the agent says, still calm and non-condescending.

“I’ll tell you all you want to know, who’s behind this, but I want a lesser sentence. I didn’t plan this, I’m just following orders.”

Oh my God, so somebody else put them up to this? Is it somebody we know?

“Also, I wanna see my kid before you take me in. He had an accident and he’s in the hospital.”

“We’ll take you to see your kid. Now, slowly take the knife away from her neck and drop it to the ground,” the agent instructs.

The kidnapper hesitates. He’s still unsure what to do; he probably doesn’t trust them.

“If you want to see your kid, you need to let her go.”

After a few moments, the pressure releases from my arm, and the blade’s no longer at my neck. I hear a thud behind me as though something hit the ground. Immediately, men move in and I’m being taken away.

“Are you okay, miss?” Another agent asks as his arms encircle me, putting his black jacket around me to cover my half-open dress where I have no more buttons.

I don’t answer, I feel as though I’m in a daze, but I look at him, and I see his eyes gaze down at my thigh.

“You’re hurt. Are you in pain?” he asks, looking back up into my eyes.

I gaze down to where he was looking and see my blood trickling down my thigh. I nod. Without asking me any more questions, he picks me up in his arms and carries me.

My panic attack didn’t consume me this time, and at this moment, a feeling of relief sweeps over me.

“Thank you,” I manage to finally say.

The young agent smiles at me and says, “You’re safe now.”

I hug my arms around his neck and lean my head against him, closing my eyes.

When we’re back at the site where the cabin is, a few men are around the young kidnapper’s dead body.

“Did you do that?” the young agent asks me.

Tears well my eyes. “Yes,” I tell him.

“You were very brave,” he says.

I killed someone. Brave wasn’t what I felt at the time, more like desperation—it was him or me. Even though my mind tells me I did the right thing, my body trembles at the realization of my actions. But if I didn’t kill him, he most assuredly was going to kill me, right? A part of me has to believe that was their intention all along—they weren’t going to let me live.

The young agent must sense my remorse, because he says, “You fought back to save your life. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I lay my head on his shoulder and the tears begin to flow again, but not from my remorse, but because I’m alive and knowing that this nightmare is finally over—I’ve been rescued and I’m safe.

The agent sets me down into a car.

“Your brother is on the way, but we need to get you to the hospital. We’re going to divert him to meet us there,” another agent comes over to tell me.

I nod my head. How I long to see Marcus, to feel the comfort of his embrace, but I know they’re right to get me medical attention as soon as possible.

They all know what happened to me. They knew it the minute they saw the young kidnapper with his pants down.

I try not to think about what that monster did to me. It makes me feel sick inside.

The car takes me away and I stare out the window, clutching the young agent’s jacket at my chest. I hope the hospital’s not too far. I want to take a bath, to scrub myself until I’m rid of any stench of him. And to sleep. I’m so tired. I need to sleep.

* * *

After examining me and taking tests, the doctor said there’s a good chance the kidnapper hadn’t ejaculated so the chance of pregnancy is slim, but they’ll be able to give me a more definite answer after the results come back in a few days.

I’m to undergo therapy and counseling to help me through my trauma. I told the doctor about my agoraphobia, and she seems to think that although a trauma of its own, what happened to me with this kidnapping has triggered something in my brain that must be helping me with my phobia. She thinks that with the help of a psychoanalyst, I should be able to get better much faster now. I hope so.

The FBI agent told me that they’ll need to question me, but they’ll do that in a few days to give me some time to recuperate. Since they have one of the kidnappers, I’m sure they’ll be spending time getting most of their answers from him.

The doctor has left the examining room and I’m wondering when they’ll let Marcus see me. They said he was here, but the doctor needed to finish with me first.

I’m sure they’re filling him in on what happened to me before letting him see me. I can’t seem to stop the tears from falling. This whole thing has been such a nightmare. Why has it even happened? Who would want to do this to me? To us?—Marcus too.

The door opens and Marcus comes in. He smiles at me, but I can sense there’s hurt—he’s hurting for me—behind that smile.

“Angela,” he says, his voice cracking as he embraces me, pulling me fully into his arms until I’m no longer sitting on the examining table, and instead, my legs dangling beneath me while he holds me tight.

I again lose it and I sob and sob.

“Oh, sis,” I hear him say, almost a whisper in my ear.

He cradles me, one hand stroking my hair, the other arm strongly holding me firm in his embrace. After a few moments, he sets me back to sit on the examining table. When he pulls away from me, I look into his eyes and see his tears.

When he hears my sniffles, he walks over to the long table against the wall and brings me some tissue. I blow my nose and wipe my eyes.

I try to smile, to let him know I’m okay, but it’s weak, and the tears flow again.

He holds my hand, not saying a word, just being here for me at this moment.

“Thank you for saving me again,” I finally tell him.

He smiles, touches my cheek, and says, “Sis, I didn’t save you, you saved yourself this time. You were so brave.”

More tears fall from my eyes as I hear these words from my brother. He’s proud of me, I can see it in his eyes.

I half laugh and half cry, “I was, wasn’t I?”

“You were amazing. And we’re going to get through this. You’re going to do it, Angela, you’re going to heal this time. You’re a strong woman. You just didn’t know what you were capable of.”

I hear his words, but my wounds are too fresh to know what will become of me.

“He hurt me, Marcus. Will I heal from that? Can I?”

My brother caresses my head against his chest. I wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t say a word and just holds me as I sob out my last bit of tears of my nightmare.

One thing I know is that I’ll never forget, it will forever be a horrible memory that will follow me wherever I go, haunting me, like the accident, but I’ve survived it, and that’s important.

God, I want to heal, I want to heal so badly.

Maybe this time, as Marcus says—maybe this time I will.

~* Marcus *~

I’ve just dropped Angela off at a retreat that the therapist recommended she attend. She has an FBI escort who’ll be keeping an eye on her for protection since they still haven’t caught the person behind the kidnapping.

She’ll be at this retreat for three weeks, where they’ll be helping her deal with both her rape trauma and her agoraphobia. They’ll be other women there who are undergoing the same traumas as Angela, so hopefully through interacting with them, knowing she’s not alone, she’ll be able to find her way towards healing.

Sis is stronger than even I realized. To do what she did took amazing courage, and I have a good feeling that she’s going to make it through this. In time, I feel she’ll heal enough to move on with her life. I doubt anyone who’s been through what she has can make it all go away completely, but if she’s able to hold it at bay so that it doesn’t consume her daily life—that’ll be a huge achievement.

And what she went through during the kidnapping has made her want to fight for her freedom, battle her agoraphobia, where before she resigned herself to being stuck indoors for the rest of her life.

We’ll see how this retreat goes for her. It’s a start at least, and since she’s agreed to having ongoing therapy and counseling after that on a weekly basis, I have faith she’ll get her life back—the life she knew before the accident.