Reign on Me

by Zoe Devereaux

  He glanced at his watch impatiently. “Where in the hell are the doctors with the results?”

  Then, standing, he moved to stand alongside his mother’s bed. He grasped her small hand in his, and it engulfed hers easily. “You don’t know how many times I wished that things were different. But, we can’t change the past, right?” he smiled sadly. “Still, I can’t help but regret all the time that was lost.” His eyes burned with hot tears. “I’d give anything for you to get better. But, I feel like everything is out of my control.”

  Releasing her hand, he journeyed to the window and looked out. As usual, the city was teeming with unrest.

  He glanced at his watch. “Where in the hell are the doctors with the report?”

  Growing impatient, he turned the TV to a local station. At the sight of the emergency report, he garnered a closer look. Quickly, he turned the volume up.

  The alarm shot through him.

  The news team was reporting live from the treatment center.

  “We’ve just had reports that an elderly lady was held at gunpoint. While she’s bruised up, she’s okay and shows no signs of any physical assault.” Holding the earpiece closer to her ear, the reporter paused momentarily. “Alright, this just came in. A young woman in her late 20’s has been kidnapped. Authorities are limited in what they can tell us due to the---”

  His cell phone shrilled.

  Keeping his eyes on the TV, he answered. “Hello.”

  “Hi, baby.” The maniacal laughter came from the other end of the phone and then quieted. An eerie quality filled the feminine voice as she responded. “You miss me?”

  He frowned against the phone. “Who is this?”

  “Didn’t I tell you once that I was your fucking nightmare, Reign?” she hissed into the phone. “Guess what, damn it? You’re going to realize it even more so now.”

  The anger shot through him.

  There was only one bitch that crazy.

  “Red Widow.” He gripped the phone hard. “What do you want?”

  “What do I want?” she shouted into the phone. “I want you to pay for what you’ve done to me, bitch!” Then, she let out a violent expletive. “I’m going to make her suffer, just like you’ve made me suffer. Nothing will be more pleasurable than watching her take her last dying breath.”

  The panic replaced his anger.

  “What have you done to Hayven?” he asked slowly, struggling against his fear. Then, taking a steadying breath, he fought to not provoke her any further. “Is she alright?”

  Red Widow gave a nasty laugh. “I don’t know. Let’s just say that the bitch is tied up right now and she can’t come to the phone.”

  “I need to speak with her,” he murmured in a placating tone. “Please put her on the phone---”

  The phone went dead.

  “Damn it!” he swore violently.

  The hospital door swung open and a police officer entered the room, stealing his attention quick. A solemn expression filled the man’s face. “Mr. Alexander, I have some troubling news to share with you concerning Hayven Grace. I need you to come with me.”

  ***

  Crying uncontrollably, she started and gave a muffled gasp as the car stopped. She whimpered against the gag and listened to the muted voices. But, still, she couldn’t decipher their cryptic language.

  The sedan shook against the force as the car doors slammed, and she heard the light footsteps as they approached. Without warning, the trunk flew open. Having been drenched in darkness for so long, she was nearly blinded by the bright sunlight. Yet, the bout of crazed laughter from her kidnapper scared her more than anything.

  “No need to look so skittish,” the stranger chortled, bending over, and scooped her shaking form from the trunk. Then, he dumped her to the ground on unsteady feet. “We haven’t really done anything to you, at least not, yet.”

  The scene seemed as if it’d been ripped from a horror flick. A perfect stage was set for a villain to exact torture and malice upon his victim.

  Perfectly set for murder.

  They were in heavily shrouded mountain terrain.

  All around them, the Georgian pines stood and formed a secret haven around them. The brown, red, and orange leaves peppered the ground, leaving the earth’s floor bright with vivid colors. A patch of bushes showed signs of seasonal changes, and the dying out was symbolical in a terrible sense.

  Her eyes burned with fresh, hot tears.

  She was going to die.

  A few feet ahead of them, his partner in crime trampled through the woods at a furious pace. The stranger was female, she realized, taking in her curvy form. There was a nervous energy about her, and her impatience showed in her strides.

  Call it crazy, but there was something vaguely familiar about her.

  He gave little care for her comfort as he dragged her along. As they journeyed deeper into the mountainous area, the flat grounds turned into steep hills. Then, the paths turned jagged and rocky in parts, making their journey that more vexing.

  Wheezing and struggling for air against the exertion, she lost her footing and stumbled to the ground. Even the gag couldn’t mask the sound of her pained cry.

  “Get up, damn it,” he ordered roughly and hauled her back to her feet, and she winced in sudden pain. “We still have a ways to go, so be prepared.”

  Apparently, she was extra baggage and slowed him down. As the passage turned more treacherous, the strange woman soon fell out of sight.

  She looked around the woods wildly.

  Where were they?

  Certainly, they were far from the city.

  The silence blanketed any sounds of life.

  Sensing her disquiet, he yanked on her hard and caused her to fall again. “Stop lagging and keep up,” he growled and stared down at her. “Hell, we’re already far enough behind as it is.” He grappled her before hauling her to her feet again. “I outta bitch-slap you for being this scared and weak. Now, come on.”

  She struggled to catch her breath.

  The sour bitter taste in her mouth nearly caused her to vomit.

  A mixture of sweat, saliva, and tears soaked the gash.

  The taste of her fear was nauseating.

  Several harrowing minutes later, they reached their destination.

  A small log cabin was their hideout. Obviously, once quaint, sturdy, and habitable, that didn’t seem to be the case now. There were visual cracks along various wall spaces on the structure, and at some points, they granted tiny peeks inside of the cabin. One end of the porch had completely fallen in, and as they took the steps, she feared that they’d cave in. When they landed inside, she was immediately overwhelmed by the dingy, moldy smell.

  The cabin was one open living area. In a simplistic style and design, the tiny kitchenette, dining room, and living were connected as one space. Apart from that, there were three other rooms: two bedrooms and a washroom.

  As she looked around, her eyes watered from the horrid stench and dingy conditions. Beneath her feet, the hardwood floors were hardly waxed, and an icky stickiness clung to the bottom of her canvas shoes. A strange odor exuded from it, and at the moment there wasn’t an apt enough term to describe it.

  The space was sparsely furnished, having only a large green velour sofa and a straight back chair. A badly tattered bearskin rug was carefully positioned as the floor’s centerpiece. The additional doors stood wide open. Inside each bedroom, there were makeshift beds which included only a worn mattress and blanket.

  She looked towards the washroom and shuddered in revulsion. From the smell of it, it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks---

  A tremor of terror racked through her.

  The violent scream froze in her throat.

  Her face crippled with naked horror.

  On the washroom floor, there lay a dead man.

  A bullet was centered directly between his eyes, and even in a dead state, the sheer terror gripped his features. But, those weren’t the only signs of abuse. In fact, he app
eared to have multiple gunshot wounds. The bloodied white shirt indicated that fact. His gray pants were tattered, and around the crotch area, it was soiled with urine.

  “Yeah, the son-of-a-bitch was so scared that he pissed on himself,” the kidnapper chortled, taking in her frightened features, and then pushed her down onto the straight back chair. Quickly, he secured her to the chair with a rope. “I just hate fucking weak pussies like that. They don’t even deserve to breathe on this earth.”

  “Quincy, why in the hell haven’t you restocked this place?” the female perpetuator snapped from the kitchenette, cursing under her breath, and rummaged through the cupboard. Still, she stood with her back to them. “Only thing here is some beans and shit, you stupid fuck.”

  He cursed under his breath before marching in her direction and joined her in the kitchenette. “Hey, what’s with all the bitching? You expect me to do everything? First, you have me helping with your little murdering schemes. Next, I’m stalking Alexander and church girl there forever, and now you want me to be grocery boy, too…fuck that shit.”

  “With the amount of money that I’m paying you, not to mention the pity fucks, I’m expecting some real compensation and real results. And why in the hell did you leave her in the chair? I told you to hog tie that bitch in one of the bedrooms.”

  “I’ve already dragged her up the hills and through these damned woods,” he huffed, snatching the refrigerator open, and its faint light played on his badly scarred face. “Don’t I deserve a little break or something? Shit, a man’s still for one second and you go crazy.” Frowning, he paused in thought. “Hey, whatcha think about some scrambled eggs and bacon?”

  “Guess it’s better than nothing.” Still, the woman kept her back to her as she settled at the round, rickety table. Obviously, part of her deadly game was shielding her identity for the time being. At some time, no doubt, she would reveal herself. “Sounds like caviar when compared to the rest of the junk here…”

  Watching and listening as they droned on, she stiffened further in the chair.

  The woman’s voice…

  It was vaguely familiar.

  But, where had she heard it before?

  She looked around the room with unease, and her panic rose again.

  Apart from the front door, there wasn’t any other point of escape.

  Moments later, her kidnappers ate at the table.

  She gagged.

  Even smelling the food was making her sick.

  The woman pointed over her shoulder at her. “That bitch is watching me. She’s boring a fucking hole in my back. Get her out of here.” After giving a jerky stab, she forked the eggs into her mouth. When the henchman shrugged and kept eating, she banged a fist against the table. “Damn it, Quincy, what are you waiting for! I’m trying to eat something. But, I swear her stench is worse than that rotting corpse. It’s a wonder that I have any appetite.” She took another angry bite of the food. “We won’t fuck around later if you don’t do what I ask. After what we’ve been through today, I’m in need of dick, and we sure in the hell know that your fucked-up, ugly ass is in need of some pussy.”

  “Alright, alright, alright,” Quincy mumbled with an irritated frown and gulped the orange juice down. The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back. “Know what? You really need to work on that anger of yours. Ever thought about anger management?”

  “Very funny---not. Just do what I told you to do,” the woman spat, stabbing the eggs with unnecessary force. “Don’t make comments or ask questions. That’s not what you get paid to do.”

  His heavy footsteps seemed to pound against the hardwood floors. Scowling, he stopped before her and loosened the rope. Again, he showed no gentleness as he pulled her up. “Up we go.”

  As they made way for the bedroom, she staggered alongside him. Once they were inside, he pushed her down onto the makeshift bed. Crossing the room quickly, he shut the blinds and cast the small room in near darkness. Then, returning to her, he jerked the rag from her mouth. For a few seconds, he stood there, and finally grew exasperated at her silence. “No prayer, words, pleas, or nothing?”

  She stared stubbornly at the floor.

  “Relax. She ain’t done nothing to you yet.” He frowned down at her. “I wouldn’t get any ideas. Screaming is a waste of time. We’re so far out in the boonies that nobody will hear you. Why don’t you get some rest? The night is guaranteed to be long.” He walked to the door and winked. “Sleep tight.”

  When the door closed behind him, she slumped against the wall in relief. But, just how long would it be before the nightmare worsened?

  ***

  The mood inside the Grace household was somber and tense as expected. While everyone else was gathered on the sectional and other seating areas, he hovered in the far corner away from them, and with good reason.

  The secret was out.

  Everyone knew about their relationship.

  It was safe to say that practically everyone on both sides of the Grace and Johansson clans were on Richard’s side.

  They closed him out.

  But, he didn’t have the time or energy to waste on them now.

  Finding Hayven was what he was concerned about.

  Like everyone else, he tensed as the police detective sailed back into the Grace living room. Stopping dead center of the room, the detective nodded at each of them. “We have more information on the perpetuators in Hayven’s kidnapping,” Detective Marlow noted, swinging his gaze around to everyone in the room. “Frieda Jones, for one---she’s already wanted for questioning in her husband’s death. Next, Quincy Rivera---he’s wanted for armed robbery and auto theft. The guy’s track record is a mile long.” Pausing again, he centered his gaze on her parents. “Your daughter is in extreme danger.”

  Pastor Jonas hugged his wife close as she collapsed against him. Quietly, the pastor sobbed along with his heartbroken wife.

  “Have there been any changes?” he asked abruptly, drawing the detective’s attention to him, and everyone’s gaze landed in his direction. He ignored their angry glances and focused his attention on the detective. “Are there any new leads?”

  “We’ve had sightings and reports from different witnesses,” Detective Marlow said cautiously. “But, I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up until we have a solid lead.” Suddenly, he received communication from his earpiece. “Excuse me for a moment, everyone.”

  The detective sailed from the room again.

  At that point, Richard sprung up from the sofa.

  Tensing, he watched as his brother approached.

  “Why don’t you do the decent thing and leave?” Richard said coldly, stopping before him. “Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he quipped tightly. “Not until I find out about Hayven.”

  “This is your fault, damn it,” Richard hissed. “If she hadn’t been with you, none of this would’ve happened to begin with.”

  The guilt slammed into him hard.

  Wasn’t he already carrying that burden?

  Before he could offer a rebuttal, Richard crossed back to the sofa and sat down again.

  To no surprise, his father was shunning him as well, he mulled, watching as he comforted Richard by throwing an arm along his shoulders. Then, his father’s accusing stare cut him to shreds.

  The tears burned in his eyes as he looked away.

  That was a new and different kind of hurt.

  “There have been some recent developments,” Detective Marlow reported, returning to the living room quickly. “We’ve been able to pinpoint their location. Due to the nature of the case and extenuating circumstances, I can’t reveal that location to you.” He sighed as he looked at all of them again. “I know it’s difficult for all of you. We’re going to doing everything that we can to bring her out safely.” He nodded. “When I have further information, I’ll get it to you immediately.” He gave a polite nod. “Now, if you’ll excuse me again.”
/>   They all watched as the detective left. But, still, two police officers were posted outside the house.

  Pastor Jonas stood and eyed him across the room. “Christopher, I think that it’s a good idea that you leave,” the pastor said quietly, and anger shone in his eyes. As Mildred tried to stay him with a hand, he pushed it away gently. “We’re dealing with enough right now without you adding more to the mix. If you care about my daughter and everyone else, you’d leave.” Then, he let out an angry breath. “While we’ll keep the arrangement between Saint Joes and your organization, you’re no longer welcome in this house.”

  “It may be something that none of you want to hear, but Hayven and I love one another. We didn’t set out to hurt anyone, despite what you might think.” His hurt, wounded gaze met her father’s across the room. “You can hate me. But, don’t hate her. She’s innocent in all of this.”

  Richard gave a humorless laugh. “Well, aren’t you just the martyr?” He stood from the sofa slowly. “You heard Pastor Jonas---you can leave.”

  They were all startled when Detective Marlow burst back inside the house. The detective quickly settled his gaze on him. “Mr. Alexander, we need you to come with us. We need your help. You just may be the one thing that’ll save her.”

  ***

  She shivered under the blanket.

  The bedroom was cold and pitch-black.

  Not only that, but frightening.

  She strained to see in the darkness.

  Without a doubt, the late hours had fallen upon the night.

  On this bitter and cold night, even the moon failed to offer any solace. Outside, the woods were quiet, and the only sound in the room was her thundering heartbeat.

  But, that hadn’t been the case earlier.

  Through the walls, she’d heard them in the next bedroom.

  At some point, their sex had sounded angry and wild.

  But, for the seemingly last hour, she hadn’t heard anything.

  Until now, she mulled, tensing.

  Someone was approaching.

  A shot rang out.