by Leah Holt
And as I stood there, debating if I should follow him into the darkness or sit still and tread the water still holding me hostage, I knew whatever his issue was, it really had nothing to do with me.
I'm not doing this.
“No.” Standing up straight, I wrapped an arm around my midsection. “I'm not going, I won't.”
“You are and you will.” His voice crushed the air, firm and demanding. “I'm not giving you a choice.”
“Look, you do what you have to do, but I'm not going. You don't want to hurt me, no matter what horrible things you've done in the past. If you did, I wouldn't be standing here right now.”
“Horrible? Sweetheart, you have no fucking clue what I'm capable of.” Stalking towards me, Porter stopped inches from my face. “Are you still hurting?”
Nodding, I put more pressure around my ribs. “I need a hospital, Porter.”
His lips curled up, lids hooding. “Do you think you can run or fight right now if you had to?”
Glaring at him, my brows dipped into my nose, wondering why the hell he would ask me that. He could see how badly I was hurt, he knew there was no way I could do either of those things.
“Well, can you?”
“You know I can't. I'm fucking hurt, how the hell could I?”
“That's what I thought.” Wrapping an arm around my back and one under my legs, he lifted me off the ground and cradled me against his chest.
“What are you doing? Put me down!”
“I will. . .” His voice fell silent as a light smile teased his lips. “When we get there.”
Cringing with pain as he adjusted me in his arms, Porter pressed me tighter to his chest. There was nothing I could do and he knew it.
He had just used my injuries against me, taking advantage of the pain stopping me from doing anything to protect myself.
“This isn't fair,” I said, giving him an angry glare as I looked up at the underside of his face.
“Life isn't fair, you're old enough to understand that. I suggest you get used to it.” With heavy strides, he started walking. “It could always be worse you know. Besides, you're the one who said you couldn't walk anymore, so I'll take that burden off of you.”
“Don't tell me what's fair and what isn't. Because this, this is fucking bullshit. The only burden I have is being here with you, I'd rather you just leave me.”
“Call it what you want, I don't really care. You're coming back with me, that's it. So you can either whine about it like a fucking child, or suck it up and deal with it.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“I'm the guy who's going to make sure you live through the night, how about that?”
“I don't know if I'd call this living.” Huffing under my breath, I tucked my arms under each other, wishing this horrible nightmare was over already.
Bobbing and rocking in his arms, he strode down the side of the road like he didn't have a care in the world. I could feel him taking in deep breaths, I could hear his heart beating against his ribs as it pumped the blood through his body to keep him going.
I half expected this man to not have a heart at all. How could he?
But it was there, lulling me into a trance as the wind blew against my hot cheeks and my body succumbed to the aches and pains. My eyes began to shut, and I found it harder and harder to stay awake.
Sleep was calling me, taking me away so my muscles could heal and my mind could clear. And I allowed it, giving it full control to take me.
I had no other choice. I couldn't walk, I couldn't run or fight, not without giving my body time to mend.
Porter's heart thumped in my ear as my lids closed one last time, soothing me into blackness.
Until I saw the sun.
I had a dream. It was one of those dreams where you know you're sleeping, but you can't wake up. You're dug in like a tick, trapped in the unconscious world your brain had created.
I was walking down a road in a small country town. It was a place I had never been to and never seen, but in my mind I knew it existed. There were dusty old buildings, all of them abandoned and desolate.
I was all alone.
Birds were chirping in the trees, butterflies were wisping by my face, and I could feel the wind off their thin, brittle wings. The sun was coming up over the horizon, so I stopped to watch it.
It was beautiful. The giant orange globe appeared to sizzle as long tendrils of fire whirled and swooped like thin arms.
In my dream I was calm, everything was perfect, it was exactly the way life was supposed to be. There was no weight on my shoulders, no pains in my body, no water in my lungs.
I was free.
But that freedom didn't last as the sky turned dark and ash began to rain down. The heat off each dust drop burned my skin, and all I felt was the intense need to get away.
I started running, trying to escape the searing pain the sky was delivering. Only there was nowhere for me to go. It didn't matter which way I turned, it didn't matter how fast I ran, I couldn't find shelter to protect me from above.
I was never getting out.
I was never getting away.
I was slowly dying.
Chapter Six
Porter
Fuck. . .
Her body was limp in my arms, legs dangling and bouncing off my thigh with each step I took. Looking down at her, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but I knew that couldn't be true.
Every so often she would mumble inaudible words, her face scrunching up in terror as dreams turned to nightmares she couldn't escape. Nightmares that I was probably the center of.
I took her. I can't believe I fucking took her.
I didn't have a choice.
That was my argument with myself, my rationale for abducting this woman off the street. I wasn't sure exactly what to do with her, I didn't know if anyone else had seen us together, all I knew was that Frankie doesn't usually travel alone.
What the fuck did I do?
I had taken part in the ultimate sin, I had stolen the air from someone else's lungs, I had stolen any future he might have had. I knew I should feel some sort of remorse for what I had done, that's what any normal person would experience.
But honestly, I didn't give a fuck. Why?
My goal from the beginning had been to stay under the radar, to be a ghost in the night, slip in, slit their throats quietly and disappear. That didn't work.
All I wanted was one man, but to get to him, I had to go through others. I was tired, drowning in this life. I was ready for this all to be over.
I had come to the end of the road, needing to choose a path. Left would lead me back into hiding, into pretending like I was an abandoned child, trying to find my way in a new world. But I went right, it was time for me to take control, and finish this shit once and for all.
I'm not going to spend my life running.
He deserves what's coming for him.
He stole everything from me.
I had already lost my family because of what I had allowed him to turn me into. The past few years were horrible and lonely. I was done living by their unspoken rules, done watching over my shoulder every second of every day, done wondering if I'd open my eyes to a barrel in my face before the world went silent.
Enough was enough.
Emery had gotten far too close for me to let her walk away. She saw my face, she knew I killed him. She feared me, I could see it in her eyes, in the way she looked at me.
But I didn't really give a shit what she thought about me, or the truth she thought she knew. She had bigger problems to worry about than me.
There were always eyes everywhere; observing, spying, learning, waiting.
I was tempted to tell her who I was, and what was going on, but I couldn't.
Emery wouldn't understand why. How could she?
Even I had a hard time still grasping the situation I was in. It wasn't fair for me to burden her with the shit storm my life had become. It was going to be hard a
s hell now to keep her from getting killed, and I couldn't make her any promises that she wouldn't end up dead.
No one's going to fucking touch her.
Her hair tickled my arm as she moaned, and turned her head against my chest. She really was a beautiful little vixen. Emery's hair was the color of gold, gleaming like metal under the sun as we passed beneath poorly lit street lamps. Her skin looked soft and dewy, cheeks slightly pink from the cold breeze.
Her legs bent up as she tried to snuggle deeper into my arms to stay warm, forcing her dress to slink higher up her thighs. The edge of the fabric danced with the crest of her mound, giving me little peeks of her pink panties hidden beneath.
Shifting her body, I gripped the hem with the tips of my fingers and tugged it back down. I didn't know why I did that for her. I had been seconds from fucking her brains out before everything turned to shit around us.
Decency was a void, caring was an empty bag that blew weightlessly around inside my gut. But for some reason, I felt for her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I didn't feel bad about taking her, that was the problem. I felt angry and frustrated that I had brought this down on her.
This wasn't supposed to happen, and I reacted the only way I knew how; I took control. This woman had taken me by surprise in so many ways. I felt a weird sensation in my gut, a heavy feeling that made my cock thicken and my body ignite.
What am I going to do with you Emery?
Turning up the driveway, the front door opened and my mother stepped out onto the top step. Crossing her arms, she thins her lips as if she was going to lay into me for being late like she used to when I was younger.
“Port—” she started to say then cut herself off. “Who's that? Is she alright?”
“Her name's Emery, we got in an accident, the car's about five miles back off of Breakneck road.”
Waving her arm, she held the door open. “Here, bring her in. Are you alright?” Her eyes ran up and down my body, hands reaching up to touch my face.
She still cares, even if she tries to hide it.
“I'm fine, but she hit hard.”
“Bring her to the spare room, I'll get my stuff.” My mom quickly walked off down the hall, heading towards the bathroom. “Try not to be too loud, Dad's sleeping. I'll wake him after, and let him know what's going on. For now, just leave it be.”
“Yeah, fine, just hurry. I don't know how bad she's hurt.” Carrying Emery up the stairs, I went into the bedroom and flicked on the light with my elbow. “Okay, you're going to get some real help now, better than my hack job,” I said quietly, whispering into her ear.
Laying her down gently on the bed, she moaned softly, but didn't wake up. Sitting down beside her, I pulled the covers up over her legs and lifted her head to add another pillow.
She looked so innocent, laying there in a deep sleep, unaware of what was going on around her. A peaceful glow emanated from her face, causing a twinge in my heart.
Stroking my jaw, my fingers itched to touch her skin, to feel the softness against the pads of my fingers. I couldn't explain why I had the urge to touch her so badly, but it was there, eating me alive as I watched her from above.
Maybe it was her innocence, or maybe it was my emptiness and eagerness to have those normal feelings like everyone else. It wasn't that I wanted to be this way; cold, empty, numb on the inside. I just didn't have a pot of feelings to draw from.
“So, what the hell happened?” My mother's voice filled the room as she walked up beside me. “Is it just her head?”
“I lost control of the car, and we crashed. I did what I could for her head, but she complained about her chest hurting before she fell asleep.”
Gently, my mother touched her arms and belly, feeling around her neck and the bottom of her skull. Pulling out her stethoscope, she listed to her breathing, slipping the metal bell down to her stomach.
“Her lungs sound good, stomach too. I don't think she has any internal bleeding, but she definitely might have a broken rib or two.” Standing up straight, she rested her hands on her hips. “I'll take care of the cut tomorrow, we'll let her rest for now.”
I felt my mothers eyes as they bore a hole into my head. She was glaring at me, brows hard, lips taut.
“What?” I asked, letting my eyes connect with hers.
“Where did you go tonight?”
“I went out to grab a drink. Why?”
“Mm,” she sighed, obviously doubting my explanation. “You really expect me to believe that?”
“I told you to stop with that shit. Stop worrying about me, stop thinking that I'm still working for him, because I'm not.”
Laying her hands flat against her thighs, she tilted her head as she spoke. “Look, I know that this has been hard on you, it's been hard on all of us. But you can't be out there, you know that. Stop going to look for trouble.”
The skip in her voice told me she was trying not to cry, that she was doing her best to stay strong. It was typical of my mother to try and pull on my emotions, to read too much into something or look at me like she had lost me along the way.
She wanted so badly to have the boy she had raised standing in front of her, and not the person I had become. I suppose it was natural for a mother to try and protect her son, to give helpful advice and nurture her child.
I just wanted her to stop, and leave it alone. I wished she would just be happy that she still had one son, a son who was trying everything to right his wrongs.
“Mom, don't, not right now. I know—”
“Porter, I just worry, that's all. I'm afraid for you and what this is doing to you. You're not the same person anymore, you're different. How am I suppose to believe a word you say when you show up with a strange woman, and tell me you crashed the car?”
“I just need you to trust me, it's not what you think.”
“I can't do this, Porter, if I lose you too. . .” Her words trailed off, eyes welling up.
“You won't lose me, I promise.”
Frowning, she closed up her bag of medical supplies, her movements sharp. “Don't make promises you can't keep, Porter. Not when I know you're going out there trying to fix what you have no control over. You need to change, you need to stop getting in over your head.”
“I'm not doing anything.” My voice came out short and firm.
This wasn't her concern. I understood that I was her son—her only son, but that didn't change the fact that something had to be done.
I couldn't live the rest of my life waiting for them to find me. I couldn't live with myself if I just sat back, and did nothing to get justice for Zander.
The police weren't going to do shit, they didn't care about a lowlife thug who had gotten in over his head.
Those people weren't going to stop, not until I was dead. That's how they worked. They gobbled up lost and broken souls, only to destroy them in the end. I would never be free unless I took control.
That's what I was doing, I was taking my life back. And I was giving my mother back hers, even is she doesn't realize it. Because none of us are free, until I free myself too.
I wish I hadn't waited so long to do it. . .
“You want what you'll never get, Porter. You can't fix what you broke.” Grabbing her bag, she started for the door. “It's late, she'll be alright, just let her rest. We'll figure this out tomorrow. You can stay on the couch for tonight, but I don't know what your father is going to say about all of this.”
I heard my mother go back downstairs, but I didn't get up to leave right away. Staring down at Emery, I started to feel something. My heart began to hurt, it ached in a way I had never felt before.
Pushing that feeling away, I forced it down deep into my gut. It wasn't even something I had to think about anymore. It just happened naturally.
Cold and emotionless was easier, it gave me the strength I needed to do what I had to. No feelings meant no hurt. No feelings gave rise to the killer that had been built inside me.
If you don't care, then why did you take her?
Even I couldn't believe my own lies anymore. Because the truth was, I did care about what happened to this girl, none of this was her fault.
Touching her cheek with the back of my hand, I ran my knuckles over her delicate skin. “I won't say I'm sorry for taking you, but I won't let you go until I know you'll be safe.”
Emery turned her face towards me, her eyes fluttering behind shut lids as she let out a quiet groan.
I don't want to hurt you.
I just hope you can feel that.
Chapter Seven
Emery
I felt the warmth on my face, and could see a brightness against the back of my lids. Opening my eyes, I blinked hard as the sun burned my pupils.
The room around me was fuzzy, but I could still make out the walls surrounding me, and a window right beside the bed. Turning my face to the window, the sun was coming through in thick long streams, lighting up the particles of dust like tiny sparkles.
My body was cradled in the most delicate way, wrapped up in blankets and cool sheets. The softness of a pillow curled around my skull, but it did nothing to stop the slamming headache that pierced my brain.
Clutching my forehead, I moaned and rubbed my temples. I felt like I had been hit by a fucking truck, and dragged for miles underneath the wheels. Rocking my jaw back and forth, I dragged my hands down my cheeks.
It hurt to keep my eyes open, but I forced them wide, refusing to let them close. Looking around the room, there was a tall dresser against the back wall, and a door beside it. Pictures of flowers and old fashioned cabins decorated the cream colored walls.
Long shadows crawled over the bed, causing my eyes to follow the black iron bed posts, twining up like metal vines above my head. Confused, I tried to figure out where I was. I couldn't remember anything after he swept me off my feet.