The Understorey, Book One of The Leaving Series (44 page)

The only sound was the harsh inhale and
exhale I made through my nose, his Cool Water cologne attacked my
senses. I always thought Jesse had smelled so good, until now. I
will never again be able to smell that fragrance without wanting to
hurl. Using his teeth, he tore the roll end of the tape before
securing the remaining few inches to my mouth.

He roughly pushed me onto my back and my neck
dug into the buckle clasp of the passenger’s seat belt.
Don’t
cry
, I begged myself
. Don’t cry. You’ll find a way out of
this.
I was lying to myself. Proof that I would do just about
anything if it prevented me from losing it, even if it meant I was
deluding myself.

Tears welled. It wasn’t working and I found
myself straining against the hollow feeling inside my chest.
For
Elliott,
I told myself to fortify my resolve. That worked. We
drove off just as the song was coming to an end, realization coming
to the forefront of my mind.

“From the other side,” I whispered in unison
with the music, a spontaneous promise to always love Elliott, no
matter where I ended up, because although I knew I would fight with
everything I had to stay alive, looking at Jesse in that moment
meant death was most certainly a very real possibility.

After several hours of driving, my body
warmed only slightly. I needed to get out of my wet clothes soon if
I was going to avoid hypothermia. I was tired and emotionally numb
but forced myself to sit upright. Jesse looked surprised and
slightly amused to see me acting so boldly. No doubt, I would pay
for it later.

“You got something you need to say
jewel?”

I nodded.
    “If I rip off the tape it’s gonna’ hurt like
hell,” he smiled, quickly turning his eyes back on the road then
returning his glare on me, “and I’m just going to put it right back
on. You know that right? Three layers this time and I’ll make sure
it’s wrapped around lots of that beautiful hair, maybe even attach
a couple of those tacks in my cup holder to the sticky side against
your head. Should I pull over?”
I shook my head from side to side. I could wait.
    He laughed and picked up his speed, no doubt
eager to begin whatever he had planned for me. There was no amount
of mental preparation that would ready me for the things he had in
store for me.

One question he once asked me repeatedly
popped into my head over and over. “Have you ever heard of
scarification, Julia?” He had asked this on that ridiculous movie
date. There’s no need to lie to you, I suddenly felt the need to
pray that my body not be too mutilated when the cops found me, for
my family’s sake, for Elliott’s. Just as suddenly came the thought
that never being found seemed a precious gift.
    To calm myself down, I tried to focus on
envisioning Elliott. God was good to him in how He gifted him, such
an amazing person.

I imagined his tall frame holding me against
him. I breathed in, desperate to smell his scent of ocean and the
woods after a fresh rain that was so uniquely masculine, so
uniquely Elliott. He smelled like home, reminded me of home. His
eyes were the brightest blue you’ve ever seen. My parents had taken
me on vacation once as a child to the island of Santorini in
Greece. The color of the water there can only be described as the
most surreal incandescent cerulean blue. Hands down, the most
beautiful color on God’s green earth. That’s the color of Elliott’s
eyes and they contrasted so well with his black hair.

His nose? Romanesque. His lips? Full. His
cheeks? Strong. His chin? Stronger.

He was devastatingly handsome and totally
clueless of that fact. I couldn’t believe he was mine. I was
shocked, to be honest with you. I was so undeserving of him. He was
such a good man. He did things for people that no modern person in
society would do. I constantly teased him about his being born in
the wrong century but the truth was, he really was an old soul.

And he was so in love with me. He mentioned
once to me that he would kill tigers for me and as soon as he said
it, there was a truth in his eyes that told me he wasn’t
joshing.

Elliott Gray would die for me and I prayed to
God that He would not let that happen.

    Thinking on him was
becoming burdensome on my chest, my heart already heavy with regret
and missing him
so
much even my teeth ached. For some reason
even my jaw throbbed.

Just as I decided it was time to sit up once
more and check our location, Jesse turn the car abruptly and I
could taste the panic rising into my throat, my body instinctively
suspecting how close I was to my death.   

    The car pulled to a stop.
He got out and ran over to my side. When he opened the door, I
glanced over to him and he flipped open a butterfly knife. I turned
my body to face him and scrambled as best I could over to the
driver’s side door and busted it open. I let my back sink into the
snow and I slid at a snail’s pace towards the sound of running
water.
    “Oh calm down Julia. I’m only removing the
restraints,” he said, placing his hand on the hood to meet me on
the driver’s side.

He dove for me and I braced myself for the
stab but it never came. I breathed hard, the exhale from my nose
freezing in the air as he cut the leg restraint and pulled me to my
feet.

    “Come on lovely.”

He made me want to vomit, a reaction I would
have often with him from that point. He pulled me up the back porch
steps and the back door creaked open. He pushed me into the room
causing me to fall to the floor before closing the door behind him.
There was no way to brace myself as my hands were still tied. I
fell on my face and felt the hard wood floor lacerate my cheek and
bust my bottom lip through the tape, muffling my cry of pain and
filling my mouth with the salty warmth of my own blood. I had to
swallow to keep from choking. He picked me up and faced me away
from him. He buried his face in my hair and inhaled.
    “God you smell good,” he said.

I breathed deeply through my nose to hold
back the vomit, knowing I would choke if I did, as the tape was so
tight against my mouth. He freed his right hand from its grip
around my shoulder and ran his left hand across my chest to keep me
from running. He started pullilng the fingers of his right hand
through my hair and I jerked away from his touch.

    “Let me do this Julia or
I’ll think of another use for my hand and believe me, you will not
find it so pleasant. Here’s a little clue for you, it involves my
butterfly knife, and your skin.”
I stilled.
    “That’s what I thought,” he said, running his
fingers through my hair again and again, tainting me with his
vileness. He turned me around, his jaw tight, and ran his right
hand up my arm until his fingers found my face. He pinched my jaw
between his thumb and index finger.
    Leaning into my ear he said, “I’ve wanted you
for a very, very long time Julia.” He bit my ear and I shrieked at
the unexpected pain. “Here, let me take care of this uncomfortable
tape for you.”
    Before I could brace myself, he unraveled the
tape harshly from my face and it pulled my hair and skin so roughly
I could feel blood trickling down my face and neck. I refused to
cry.
    “No tears?” He asked, bewildered. “But there’s
blood
Julia. I’m sure that had to hurt.” He turned my face
from side to side, inspecting his handiwork. “Hmm. Oh, I see.” He
chuckled. “You’re trying to be brave. Foolish girl. Now I know your
threshold and I’ll be sure to inflict enough to bring the reaction
I want. You would have been smarter to feign your tolerance for
pain.”
    I watched as he flipped the broad side of the
blade of his knife to rest in his palm. He squeezed his hand
together and I saw blood begin to trickle down his forearm and onto
the floor. When he had a decent amount of blood in his hand, he
raised the palm of his hand and ran slippery digits down my throat
and the back of my neck. It was warm and the tangy bitterness made
my head spin.
    “There, now we are as one Julia.”

He leaned in closer to me and ran the tip of
his tongue across the surface where our blood mixed together.

    “We taste incredible,” he
winked. “Salty.”

My eyes watered but I refused to let one slip
as he watched in hopeful anticipation, his eyebrows furrowed and
lips curled around an evil smile. When I didn’t give him what he
wanted he just laughed and dragged me towards the fireplace.
    “Sit,” he said, and guided me to the
floor.
I sat with my back against the sofa. He threw wood into the hearth
and started the gas before lighting the flame.
    “Wouldn’t want you to get sick now would we pet?
Especially since you’re in need of getting out of those cold, wet
clothes.”
I was afraid to use my voice, but I had a few choice words standing
by.
    “Stand,” he said and positioned himself above
me. I obeyed. “Turn around.” I did.
He untied my hands and repositioned me so I was facing him again.
“Undress.”
    “No,” I said, finding my voice.
    “Let me set some ground rules for you puppet.
When I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high Jesse?’. Got it? If you refuse
me anything, I will make it so difficult for you to breathe you’ll
beg me for death. Understand?”
I nodded my response.
    “Undress,” he repeated.
I removed all my clothing except for my underwear and bra and held
the wet clothes against my body.
    “Walk into the laundry room.” I did. “Put your
clothes in the dryer and start it. I need to get out of here fast
but I can’t have you dying of hypothermia before I get to do my
thing.” I did as I was told and covered myself the best I could
with my hands and arms. “Go stand by the fire.”
    He followed me back to the living room and I
stood with my back to the fire, facing him. He sat on the couch,
playing with his knife, flipping it open and closed repeatedly,
staring off into nothing.

He did this for what seemed like a very long
time before his eyes met mine again, “Come here,” he smiled.

My hands shook as I approached him. Knowing
he’d demand it, I made the decision to position my feet mere inches
from his before folding my arms across my chest. He laughed.

“You’re learning pet. Would you like to hear
my plans for you?”

I refused to acknowledge him.
    “After your clothes are dry, I plan on taking
you to my cave behind the falls. You’ll like it.” Flip, flip, flip.
“Well hidden,” he winked. “That’s right, can’t hear a thing through
the rushing water. Not a thing. Your bodies won’t be found for
weeks, months, maybe even years.”
I swallowed.
Bodies? Are there more like me?
    “So,” he continued, “just as soon as they’re
dry. We’ll head over there. I’ll make a comfy little fire and start
experimenting on you before Elliott finds us.”
My eyes widened in fear.
    “That’s right. He knows about it. It might take
him a little while to find it because he’s never been there before,
but I’m sure we can think of something to pass the time. Don’t
you?”
    He stood slowly and towered over me, his chest
heaving with each breath. He continued the flip of his knife but
lost control of it and it toppled to the ground but before he had
an opportunity to reach for it, I grabbed it and backed across the
room.
    “Don’t come any closer!” I yelled, but it did no
good.

He charged me at full speed and I did the
only thing I could, I sliced at his arms so I could attempt at a
stab. First the left and I made contact slicing close to bone, then
the right but missed, then I tried the left once more and it cut
but not as deeply as the first time.

He overpowered me and I kicked and punched,
bit and pulled at his hair, but it was of no use. He slammed me
into the ground, took the knife from me and pressed the sharp blade
against my neck. It cut and the blood began to pool onto the floor
beneath me.

    “Please,” I begged.
    “Please?”
He seemed amused.
    “I’ll do anything, j..just don’t kill me.”
    “Anything?”
    “Anything.”
He sat up and straddled my legs, taking the knife, he licked the
blood off the blade.

“Okay, I promise not to kill you on one
condition.”

“Wh...what..d...d...do you want?”

“Hold still.”

He took the blade and brought it to my chest,
right below my left collarbone. I flinched and tried to crawl
away.
    “Ah, ah, ahhh. We had a deal Julia. You let me
do this and I won’t kill you. I p..p...promise,” he laughed. “Hold
still,” he commanded and pinned my hands with his knees to the hard
pine floor. “Now where was I?”
    He placed the blade in the exact same spot and
began to slice a two inch line. I yelled in pain but he just drew
the blade over the wound over and over until it was deep enough for
him. I gritted my teeth by the third turn and braced myself to pass
out.
    “I’ll give you a moment. You see, I have three
more lines to do.”

I almost burst into tears but an image of
Elliott laying unconscious on a hospital bed with his jaw wired
shut came to mind and I steeled myself, for him.

When he finished all four lines, he picked
his body weight up from my legs and brought me to my feet. I
shuddered when forced to lean against him because my knees
threatened to buckle beneath me.

Once I had steady enough footing he steered
me into his parents’ room to the mirror in the bathroom. When I saw
myself I almost fainted. I was drenched in blood, his and mine,
mostly mine. I was afraid to look at what he had carved into my
chest but he shouted for me to open my eyes and I met my body’s
image. I focused on the damage he’d done. My eyes zeroed in on his
artwork. Right underneath my left collarbone, carved in the flesh,
was the letter ‘E’.

“You’ll take him to the grave with you
Julia,” he said, bringing his hand to the ‘E’ from over my shoulder
and pressing the raw wound, causing even more blood to stream down
my skin and soak through my bra. I shouted at the agony of it but
the tears never came.