Never Have I Ever (46 page)

I groaned out a twisted whisper, a phantom of my own voice scarcely recognizable to my ears. “Selene… you’re an idiot if you think anyone could be happy with that monster.”

She smiled a smile which shook me to my bones. It was like she smiled at me as an old friend, not as a psychopath following the footsteps of another psychopath. “You don’t know him the way I do. He’s never raised a hand in anger to me.”

I didn’t care about her reasoning. At that point I didn’t care about anyone’s reasoning. I cursed God and Ethan alike. I cursed her, too.

“
Fuck you
, Selene. Fuck you.”

“I know.” She reached over to move a small bunch of sweat-soaked hair from my face. I jerked away from her touch, the sudden action shooting lightning throughout my nerves. “
Shh
, it’s almost over. They’re going to take you away from here now. You’re going to leave Los Angeles. You’ll not look back because, after all, there’s no way you’ll ever win against Ethan. His lawyers are of the highest caliber.”

I fell quiet, unable to fathom thinking anything anymore. Mine was another life ruined because of her selfishness. I contemplated killing her myself. Probably would have were it not for the heaviness of my body and limiting mobility of my chains. To a degree I was relieved at the news the plans to kill me were off the table. Part of me wanted death just to kill the pain with it.

The little nugget of self-preservation instilled in my genes that the human body can take a myriad of abuses and survive prevented all of me from wholly wishing to die. At least there was still that.

They collected me sometime later. I was pulled to my feet on shaking legs, unhooked from the wall, and led quietly out of the room. They directed me in all my nakedness quickly into an open garage and the back of a black Lincoln SUV. The sun was out. It must have been late afternoon or early evening. The instant the thought to make a break for it entered my head and my muscles tensed to pull in the direction of the street out front, my arms were seized tighter to shove me inside the SUV.

Ethan climbed into the passenger’s seat while the same burly man who’d helped kidnap me to begin with sat uncomfortably close to me in the back seat. He produced a blindfold to tie around my eyes and instructed me to keep my head down. The woman who accompanied him in my abduction now got behind the wheel. I caught a glimpse of the clock on the dash before the blindfold took the afternoon away from me. 5:48 p.m.

Keeping my head low turned out to be a blessing. I couldn’t sit up straight even if I wanted to. My back hurt far too much for that. The slightest brush against it sent me reeling. The scent of gasoline wafted from somewhere in the vehicle as they took me wherever they planned to take me. It brought my migraine screaming into existence again. Traffic rushing by on either side of the car was the only sound I heard during the whole drive. Doubts of their decision not to kill me didn’t enter my head until the noises of traffic faded in favor of a rocky gravel road some miles off a random highway, in which time I severely began to wonder if they would take my life. Otherwise, why drag me out so far?

The blindfold came off when the Lincoln rolled to a stop on that gravel road. It gave me just enough time for the clock on the dash to tell me we had been driving for almost forty five minutes before I was whisked out into the bright California sun beating down on an alcove of trees and brush sparsely dotted with rocky dirt.

After being stopped a few yards out I finally saw the source of the gasoline smell. The burly man left me to pull a red gas can from the trunk space of the SUV along with a brown backpack which looked to be more empty than full. He walked over and placed the gas can at Ethan’s feet pointedly. Its contents sloshed against the inside.

“I trust Selene explained to you what is going to happen,” Ethan said. “I will have eyes on you just as I always have. Not that further initiative is required; however, if you fail to make yourself scarce in a timely manner I’ll see to it everything and everyone you love is burned to the ground. Do you understand?”

I nodded a little.

His eyes roved to the gas can,
then
back to me. “Say the words.”

“I understand,” I replied robotically.

Ethan motioned to Burly, who took the cue to drop the shackles from my wrists. They were red and swollen, tender to the touch and bled where the metal had bitten into my skin.

“Farewell, Miss Minogue,” said Ethan.

The bastard all but threw the backpack at me, turned, and walked back to the SUV. His entourage followed suit.

My everything hurt. Muscles I didn’t even know existed screamed at me from my ankles to the insides of my thighs. Bruises made a Picasso out of my torso now that they were lit in the California sun. One look at the mess of dirt and blood coupled with the black and blue and the glaze over my eyes would tell any passersby I just survived a fucking horror movie. I did, in a way. Only it was by no stretch of the imagination fictitious for me.

After discovering a clean change of clothes inside the backpack provided, I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to just get back to my feet. Jeans one size too large would have to suffice for the time being. Ethan conveniently forgot to include a pair of shoes.
Or underwear.
Mostly I wanted to just sit there and cry. I wanted to scream at the world for failing me. Yet, somehow, I summoned the strength to stand up, having convinced myself I’d be worse off if I stayed where I was until the sun set in roughly two hours. I gingerly slid the shirt over my shoulders just so I had something with which to cover up. Not-quite-dry blood stained the light purple of it in varied degrees of red and off-bronze within seconds. The cotton bit into the gashes across my back and I almost pulled it off again. Walking into civilization barefoot would be difficult enough, though; I wasn’t willing to add more insult to injury by revealing my torture to the rest of the world too.

The sun was on its way to setting just off to my eleven o’clock. At least I was in a general Los Angeles-facing direction. If I could reach a gas station I could call for someone to pick me up. But, who would I call? Hell, who would I allow to see me in my current state? The last thing I wanted was to explain myself. It was a bridge I’d cross when I arrived at wherever I was going, I decided.

It was slow going as I started off down what loosely constituted a road. I decided to keep hold of the backpack just in case I needed it in my immediate future, though made a point to kick the gas can left at my feet over before I left the spot. Ethan would never see it; it just made me feel better. As I expected, it hurt like the devil with every step. It only frustrated me more that I was so parched that I couldn’t cry to release the pain.

I may have been on the road a quarter mile or so, having just crossed onto something a little more paved, and began searching for a sign or highway marker when I heard someone call out my name.

I would’ve ignored it except that it came again.
And then a third time.
I looked up to see Howard Cartwright dashing from the driver’s side of a parked blue Toyota Avalon down the otherwise deserted road.

“Cartwright?” My voice was too far gone, cracked and disjointed from screaming, for him to clearly hear me.

He raced the distance to me faster than I ever saw any man run before. I dropped the backpack at once and found myself trying to speed up my pace to reach him as well. An expression of empathy mixed with anger and relief on his face as I threw my arms open and slammed into him. I was so sore I hardly noticed the extra pain his comforting embrace caused to the whip marks on my back and shoulders.

“I’ve got you, duckling,” he soothed. “You’re safe.” He tightened his arm around my shoulders and placed his hand at the back of my head to bury my face close to his chest. Despite my lack of tears, I was so grateful to see a friendly face I clung to him and cried with dry eyes. He kept reminding me, “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

I coughed out a sob, losing all ability to organize myself at that point, and shook uncontrollably in his arms. “He took it from me.
Noah’s collar.
My dignity.
Everything.
He took it all from me!”

Howard held me like that for a while. He allowed me my deserving moment to collapse in on myself until he shifted his stance to begin guiding me towards his car. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay now. We’ll take care of you.”

He more carried me than walked me to his car, and deposited me with care into the passenger’s seat. I hated being an invalid. Up until that day I was always perfectly capable of taking care of myself to the point of being ready to walk however long was necessary just to prove to Ethan I could. It sickened me that I was forced to rely on someone else for stamina that evening let alone the duration of my recovery. That part hurt worse than the physical injuries themselves.

Once I was secure in the car, I leaned sideways against the door and rested my head on the window. I still couldn’t sit back in the seat. Howard passed me a bottle of water from the back seat, which I took in earnest and greedily drained in a manner of seconds despite his warning to take it slow. I would have liked him to be in my position and drink it slow. It was nigh impossible. My body craved the hydration too much to allow a meager sip or two at a time.

We drove in comfortable silence for the first ten miles back into the city. Every so often Howard would cast a glance to me, and to the blood clinging to the back of my shirt like gory zebra stripes.

Before he could start in on the interrogation, I asked, “How’d you find me?”

He gave me a reassuring, however melancholy, smile.
“How else?
Noah. I didn’t think Ethan would be stupid enough to take you to his own house. By the time I got there he was leaving with you. I’m so glad I stayed far enough back to keep out of sight.”

“Noah sent you?” He must have gotten the word out.

Howard sighed and shook his head in disdain. “The police wouldn’t take him seriously. Since he was half a world away and you hadn’t been gone very long the morons refused to help him.
So much for protecting and serving and upholding the law.
They have to listen now that you need a doctor.”

My blood ran cold and I shot him a look I hoped told him I was never more serious in my life. The thought of more strangers touching me made my choice for me as it made my skin crawl. “No. No hospitals. No ERs. I can’t take that right now.”

“Piper, they’ll help you. I’m not giving you an option here. You have to get stitched up before those cuts get infected.”

“I don’t care! No hospitals.
Period.
I’d sooner jump out of this car.” To make my point I grasped the door handle.

“Stubborn.” Howard gritted his teeth and locked the doors from his side, but bent to my threat.
“Fine.
You’re coming home with me then, and you’re staying until you’re better. I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.”

I rested my head against the window again and watched the road disappear into infinity behind us in the side-view mirror; the mirror which conveniently told me that objects within
were
closer than they appear.

Wasn’t that the
truth.

***

Howard lived in a relatively typical middle class suburb of Los Angeles just south of Pasadena. The house we pulled up to was of the two-storey variety with a red brick exterior and a two-car garage at the head of a cul-de-sac. He insisted rather convincingly I hold onto him while I made my way up the incline of his driveway to the front door.

As we entered he called through the house, “Charlie, I need you!”

A few moments later the woman I recognized from months ago as the receptionist at Howard’s dance studio came dashing down the staircase. She still sported the natural blond pixie cut I first saw her in. Instead of office attire, however, she was dressed down for home. She had on a loose long-sleeve shirt and denim shorts.

“Remember meeting Charlotte at all?” Howard asked as he shut the front door.

I nodded. I never received her name back then. It was difficult to forget the little ballerina, though.

Her face was a portrait of shock once she got a good look at me. “Mercy me, what happened to you, sweetie?”

Thankfully, Howard brushed past that question. “Charlie, show Piper upstairs and draw a bath for her, please. Take photos before you wash for future reference. She may not want to think about that sort of thing right now, so it’s up to us.”

Charlie nodded to him, the undertone of his words being enough to get the message I had been abused and left for dead across. “Sure, of course.”

“Do you need help up the stairs, duckling?”

I cast a grateful smile to him and shook my head. Words sort of failed me then. Charlie’s assistance would suffice. She held her hand out to me, being considerate enough to wait until I took it before she wrapped her long, delicate fingers around mine.

“Come on,
lovie
; let’s get you into some warm water.”

To distract myself I took in the look of the house as we climbed the stairs. On the left side of the staircase was a rustic themed kitchen and dining room. On the right resided overstuffed leather sofas and a large entertainment center complete with a floor-to-ceiling DVD and
Blu
-ray collection. Tacked onto the back of the living room was a door leading into a master bedroom. It was partially obscured by a sizable saltwater fish tank.