Saving Me (Finding You #3) (13 page)

Vacant eyes stared out. No longer a monster. Evil gone.

I pushed myself away from the corpse, flopping onto my back. I’d never taken a life before. I’d only ever dreamt of taking John’s and now it had come about.

A sudden overwhelming urge to throw up had me rolling over onto my stomach as I retched with the enormity of what I’d done. The reality was so different from the fantasy. I didn’t like the feeling of guilt and shame that came with it, even if the scumbag had deserved it. Maybe the relief would come later or maybe it wouldn’t.

Tears started to fall down my cheeks as I broke down and sobbed. Had I turned into a criminal? Would I be hauled off to prison? Was that my future?

Grabbing my head and rolling back over so I faced the star-ridden sky, I shook as I cried. Very faintly in the distance I thought I heard a chopper but I couldn’t bring myself to listen too carefully as I dealt with the shit that had happened.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Dakota

It was quiet. My aching arms and legs moved freely below some blankets, my head resting on a pillow.

The only sound coming from the room was a beeping noise.

All I could think about was John will hear the beeping and come.

Have to stop the beeping! He’ll hurt me. Need to make it go away!

I lifted my head from the pillow to look around the cabin, surprised to find the room had changed. Even in the darkness I could see that the double bed I’d been bound to, had been replaced by a high single bed, raised slightly where my head lay. A machine to the left was making the noise that cut through the peace. A door with a glass panel led out to a large space bathed in light. There were indistinct noises and voices coming from the light. It looked like a hospital room.

I gripped the sheets, alone and afraid, closing my eyes again, trying to fight off the images swamping my mind. Rotten breath. Yellowing teeth. Eyes so dark, mirroring his soul. Deep, consuming voice. Scary. Afraid.

He would be back soon. I curled into a ball under the warm blankets waiting for the evil to return.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Kyle

The whirl of a helicopter became louder. When I looked up to the black sky I could see light moving forward. Had the cavalry finally appeared? Where were they half an hour ago?

As the chopper rose above the towering trees, a blinding light engulfed me. A huge spotlight was searching the woods, obviously trying to locate John. Well, they were in for a nice surprise.

I knew I wouldn’t make it out with the way my knee was. Swelling and bruising were already surfacing and I wasn’t even sure what way would lead back. It all looked the same.

Picking myself up off the dry pine needles, I hopped to regain some balance and began to wave my hands around to gain attention. I needed to get to Dakota yesterday.

What sort of a state would she be in or would she be…? No. I had to stay positive. She was a fighter. Everything would be okay. It just had to be. The cops had arrived in time. They’d taken care of her.

The chopper circled a couple of times and then hovered, all the while my arms still flailed wildly. Surely they would have seen me by now. They were right upon me.

A voice sounded over a loud speaker. “Stay where you are. We’re sending someone down.”

The back door of the chopper opened and a man peered down at me and then at the surrounding trees. Maybe he was looking for a bigger clearing, although that would mean the rescuer would need to be lowered to the ground and then find his way to the current location. It would take up valuable time. The guy yelled something into the front pilot’s cabin and then proceeded to rig himself up into a harness. They’d obviously figured out they’d just have to try and work with what they had. Even though my dead ‘friend’ and I were only in a small clearing, the chopper would need to get low enough so the cable reached the ground. Plus if the rotor was too close to the tops of the fir trees it would blow them every which way, making descent and ascent harder.

Either way, I needed to be on that helicopter pronto.

The pilot negotiated the chopper to the very center of the small clearing and hovered while the harnessed man stepped backwards to the edge and then flung himself off, hanging precariously as little by little the cable was lowered.

I found it hard to stand and keep looking up while steadying myself on one leg so I opted for sitting down while I waited. It was definitely a police helicopter so it was probably a cop making his way down.

Nerves started to sour my belly at the prospect of being arrested on the spot. Christ! Would the self-defense story really hold? Surely they would wonder why I had given chase to John in the first place. What would I say? That I wanted the scumbag to pay for hurting Dakota? That I was trying to help the police out? I hadn’t even thought. I had just acted.

I looked up again to watch the gale-force wind swing the man unsteadily into branches and leaves. For a moment he dangled in place, ensuring the cable wasn’t going to become ensnared on anything. After a quick thumbs up from both parties, they began lowering him again until the man was standing about three feet from me.

Quickly he undid the harness and sprinted over, assessing the situation, his eyes remaining on John’s body a little too long. He asked, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, unable to manage anything more.

“What about the other guy?”

We both eyed John’s crumpled body.

“He tried to kill me. I didn’t have a choice. I think he’s dead.”

The man left me to walk over to John. He knelt down to feel for a pulse before he looked up at me with a grim face.

I swallowed a few times in quick succession, not knowing the implications of that expression, but hoping to God it wasn’t the unspoken words of, ‘you’re in a lot of trouble right now.’

“Can you help me drag him over?” the man asked, who judging by his uniform was an officer of the law.

I shook my head and pointed to my knee. “I think it’s broken. I can’t walk on it.”

The officer didn’t appear too fazed as he placed both hands under John’s armpits and proceeded to drag his limp carcass into the center of the clearing so he could be lifted up.

The rescuer stayed on the ground as he tied John into the harness and motioned to someone on board above to start reeling him in like a giant shark on the end of a line.

“I’m Officer Hawkins.” He held out his hand for me to shake, which I did, wanting to get off on the right foot.

“Kyle Rutherford. I’m Dakota Livingston’s boyfriend.”

“So what happened, Mr. Rutherford?”

There were no notes being taken. Hawkins seemed to be asking more off the record at this stage.

“I chased him from the cabin. I was waiting outside to find out what had happened to Dakota and then I noticed John running out the back door trying to flee. I’m sorry, Officer. I didn’t think. I took off after him in the hopes of catching him and well…he turned the tables on me and came at me. I had no other option but to incapacitate him.”

“Well, Kyle. That was a pretty stupid and risky thing to do! Was the perpetrator armed?”

“I think one of the officers must have shot a gun out of his hand. His fingers are pretty messed up. As far as knives go, I’m not too sure.”

“So you were willing to risk your own neck without the help of the law to bring this guy down? What were you thinking?”

Hawkins didn’t appear pissed but was more or less saying that the thoughtless escapade had been extremely risky and I should have left it up to the authorities.

Well, fuck that. John would have been in Timbuktu by now, ready to plot his next abduction attempt.

“Let’s just say he’s put Dakota through some pretty horrific things and I just wanted the guy stopped.”

“How did you manage to take him down?”

“I learned karate when I was younger.”

“Huh.” Hawkins cocked his head with a slight look of disbelief in his eyes. “Well, once we get you to the hospital we’ll need a full statement. Let’s get you on board and then we’ll get everything figured out.”

The cable was on its way back down.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Dakota

There was something odd about the room I now occupied. It had changed. No longer was there a door with a window that led to another room or an annoying, beeping machine. Gone was the adjustable bed with the metal shelves beside it. Instead I was confronted with a concrete room with water dripping in one corner. My body lay on a steel bed that had a drab gray blanket and a sagging mattress. There was no pillow at all and nothing else in the room. A small window high up the wall let in moonlight. Enough so I could see a metal door adjacent to the bed. Something scurried across the floor. I couldn’t bring my head up enough to see, but it sounded like a rat.

Trying to rise, I found my arms and legs tied down again. I was naked and covered in bruises and blood. What the hell? Panicked, I started pulling on the restraints, yelling out to try and get someone’s attention.

“Hello? Please! Someone help me! I’m tied up and can’t move. You’ve got to do something!”

Footsteps. Loud and heavy. Boots. Coming closer. The door opened wide. A man stood in the open frame, smiling sickly. As the moonlight hit his features I recognized the monster. He’d hurt me. He was coming again to finish what he started.

A manic laugh bounced off the concrete walls as he strode towards me, undoing his gray pants on the way.

I choked on a scream, fear causing me to thrash on the bed. The devil was coming. The devil was coming.

He touched me, shaking me.

His voice was different. Higher and not as menacing. Quite soft, actually. And the touch wasn’t brutal.

“Dakota! Dakota! Wake up!”

I jerked my eyes open, still screaming, looking into the face of a woman in a light blue uniform. She had a stethoscope around her neck. The woman had my arms pinned down.

“Shhh. Honey, it’s okay. It was just a bad dream. You’re safe. You’re in the hospital. It’s okay.”

The kind woman smiled, her features delicate. Light blue eyes the color of the sky. Blonde hair neatly in a bun. A warm face.

I stilled, looking into the gentle eyes that soothed.

The woman slowly let go of my arms and stood looking down, never moving her calming eyes away.

“My name is Libby and I’m going to be looking after you.”

“Is this the hospital? How long have I been here?”

“Yes, hon. You arrived a few hours ago.” The nurse took the stethoscope from around her neck and inserted the ends into her ears. “I just need to check your vitals, okay? You’ve suffered two cracked ribs and some contusions and lacerations. Don’t you remember being wheeled down to x-ray?”

“No.” I must have been so out to it. I had awoken briefly to feel the nice pillow and blankets but other than that, my last focused memory was back at the cabin.

As the nurse neared, I instinctively cowered back into the bed. “Please, no! Don’t touch me!” The thought of anyone invading my personal space brought with it an incredible sense of dread.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to check your heart.”

When the nurse touched my arm, I pulled it away quickly. “No. Stay away. I just want to be left alone.”

Libby backed off. I couldn’t look at her. The nurse’s faint footsteps padded away, leaving just the beeping again.

I feel filthy. Disgusting. No one can touch me. Can’t stand it. He touched me. Don’t want him to touch me anymore. I hate him. I hate him so much.

All I wanted to do was get in a flaming hot shower so it could burn the top layer of my skin away where he’d marked me. Where he’d ruined me. Left his imprint. A tattoo of his depravation that ran far deeper than the layers of wounded flesh. He’d finally reached my soul—A place of purity and goodness that was now tarnished.

I should have been crying bucket-loads of tears but even they were too frightened to come to the surface.

The most intense loneliness swamped me. I was nothing. Worthless. A body to be beaten and used. A toy. He would come for me again to play.

Even as the nurse walked back into the room carrying a glass of water, I felt empty.

“I’ve brought you something to help you sleep. I’ll just put it down here.” Libby walked to the metal drawers on the right hand side of the bed and placed the glass and two white pills next to it before smiling and walking out.

I should have felt something. Anything. There was nothing but numbness. A disconnection. I turned to look at the pills, staring at them for a moment, processing what those two small tablets might offer me.

Oblivion. Escape. Relief from the chasm drowning me.

I inched across the bed and grabbed the two pills and the glass, throwing the tablets into my mouth, swallowing both together with a large chug of water, finishing the clear liquid before resting the glass back in its place and then waiting for the drugs to pull me into the nothingness.