I go to the security screen and we both observe Rex pacing around the room. “He must be having another episode. Wonder what he took?”
In the Parole Office, it is normal to have someone arrive for an appointment under the influence of alcohol, drugs or some sort of mental break. It’s part of the job that we have been trained to do, so having Rex arrive in this state is no surprise.
Lisa nods her head and suggests, “Should we call for some help?”
“Let me get him in the room and see how bad it is.” I watch the screen intently for a few moments with my hand resting against my chin. “Seeing him walk around like that I’m thinking we’ll need to get him to the hospital, but protocol states I have to try to get him to go voluntarily.”
While immediately dialling, Lisa announces, “I’ll alert the ambulance, so they’re ready if we can get him to agree to go.”
“Maybe come stand by the door and keep an eye out in case he escalates.” Keeping the phone in her hand, Lisa springs to her feet to watch through the interview room window.
I take a deep breath to compose myself before opening the door. I lower my chin and say, “Hi, Rex. You okay?”
“No, man. They’re after me. I can’t stop them.” He says as he heads into the interview room. As he passes me, my nose is assaulted by the stench of stale beer, cheap deodorant and sweat. I try to keep from noticeably recoiling away from him.
He slumps down into the chair across from me. He looks as though he has neither showered nor eaten in days. With a soft voice, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“They’re after me. But I’m gonna get them first, I tell you.”
“Who is after you?”
Slurring his words as he speaks a mile a minute, Rex says, “That bloke that knocked my girl up. I’m gonna get ‘em.” His expression goes from anger to a smile. “Did I tell you we’re getting’ married? I saw her this mornin’ and we’re gonna run off and live out bush.”
“That’s good. Are you feeling all right?”
His expression goes dark. “No, no, I’m not good. I gotta get that guy.”
Calmly, I ask, “What guy?”
“The one that’s got my girl. I gotta kill ‘em before he kills me.” As he speaks, his eyes begin tracking something around the room. I do not know what he sees. I’m not sure if Rex has taken something or if he’s in the middle of a psychotic episode.
He begins to mumble a few things under his breath that I can’t understand. He puts his head in his hands and begins to sob uncontrollably.
“How about I get you some help so that guy can’t hurt you?”
Still murmuring incoherently, he mumbles what I think is, “No police, I need sleep.”
Attempting to get his attention, “Rex, I’m going to get the ambulance to take you to the hospital where you can get some sleep, okay?”
Still murmuring to himself, he nods in agreement. I motion to Lisa to go ahead and have the paramedics come.
As we are waiting for the ambulance, I see Rex’s expression change to one of fury. He lashes out towards me, grabs me by the hand and yanks me close into him. As he tries to bend my arm behind my back, I’m overcome by his stench and cannot breathe.
I try to wrestle away from him, but he’s too strong.
Lisa storms into the office to assist me with this escalating situation.
He continues squeezing my hand as he speaks incoherently about some fictitious, or possibly legitimate, monsters that are going to kill him.
I command with a composed voice, “Rex, please let go of my hand.”
He loosens his grip but does not let my hand go. He looks at me with tears in his eyes and begs. “Please help me. I gotta get ‘em before they get her.”
“We are getting you help.”
Rex’s crying gets louder and he still will not let go of my hand.
We hear the paramedics come into the waiting room, but given it is the Parole Office, the police come as well.
Rex yells out, “You bitch. You called the cops. I trusted you.”
“Rex, they’ve only come because this is the Parole Office. You are not under arrest.” I attempt to calm him down, but he continues to scream expletives.
The paramedics attempt to intervene and after a few minutes convince Rex to leave with them. As he’s taken out on a stretcher he screams out, “I’m gonna get you bitch. No one messes with me.”
My hands are trembling and my heart is beating almost through my chest from the adrenaline coursing through my body. I know this is one of the dangers of this job, but sometimes it can rattle even the toughest of officers.
Thankfully, I have Lisa to help me calm down before my next meeting. We go out and have a cigarette break even though our waiting room is beginning to fill with probationers and parolees waiting to be seen. Somehow, I muster up all my energy to get through the rest of the day.
At about quarter to five, before I leave the office, I get a call from Officer Mahoney. This was one of the policemen that assisted this morning. He calls to let me know that Rex agreed to stay in the hospital overnight for observation to avoid new charges.
When I finally get home, I take a long, hot shower to wash away the day. As the water runs down my skin, I can’t help but think of Tom. Tears fall down my face while I think about how I miss him and the days when things were simple.
Why did he choose to go overseas instead of being here with me? My husband should be here, making me feel safe. Making me feel protected.
I try to call his mobile phone, but there is no answer.
Opening a bottle of wine, I sit on the couch in hopes that a glass will wash away the memory of not being able to free myself from Rex’s grip. I curl up in a soft white blanket as I try to call Tom once again. Again, he does not answer.
Why are you not answering?
The memory of Aiden saying how I should be protected by my man flashes through my mind.
What would Aiden say about what happened today? Why didn’t I give him my number? I bet if I call him, he would answer.
THE NEXT MORNING, when I boot up my computer I get a notice that two of my offenders have new charges. One of them is for Rex. He obviously checked himself out of the hospital against medical advice, not caring he would be charged with a new offence for doing so. I sigh, thinking of the mountain of paperwork I will now need to complete to take him back to court.
“Never a dull day, huh, Lisa?” I say rolling my eyes.
“Not in this job honey.”
A few hours later, when I see that I’m getting nowhere fast with my work, I decide to take a break. “I’m going to go for a walk, clear my head and then get a coffee. You want me to bring you back one?”
“You know me, I’ll never turn down a coffee.” I think to myself how good it is to work with someone so cheerful no matter how crappy the day is going.
I go to grab my wallet out of my purse and realise I left it in my car. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
“Sure thing, hon. Take as much time as you need.”
As I get to the parking lot and closer to my car, I can’t help by notice how it looks so small and insignificant against all the trucks, utes and four-wheel-drive vehicles in this lot.
Maybe it is time to upgrade the size of my car from city-size to country-size, so I fit in better while working out here.
I look into my car window and see my wallet sitting out in the open on the seat.
How could I be so senseless to leave it out like that?
As I bend down to grab it, I feel someone push me forward, hard enough to make me fall down onto my car seat.
Before I can react, a body presses up against me from behind as a hand is placed over my mouth. Some sort of cloth hood is pulled over my head, rendering me blind to my surroundings.
My heart is pounding and I cannot catch my breath. Terror is coursing through my veins as my brain tries to make sense of this situation.
I hear a quiet voice next to my ear command me, “Don’t m
ake a sound. Don’t struggle. I don’t want to hurt you.” My arms are being twisted back while my hands are being bound behind me with what I think is gaffer tape.
Whose voice is that? What do they want with me?
I try to scream but I cannot as I am frozen with fear. I desperately try to remember what they told us in training if something like this should happen. But I cannot recall anything other than to try to stay calm.
Were they kidding? Stay calm when this happens. How is that even possible?
I hear a door open on the vehicle behind me. I’m lifted by strong arms wrapped around my body and placed down onto the backseat. I feel my feet being bound together and a blanket being laid on top of me. The vehicle rocks as the door near my feet is slammed shut. I struggle to breathe as I curl into almost foetal position.
For a moment, it is quiet. All I can hear is the thump of my heart almost beating out of my chest. I then hear the driver’s side door open and someone gets in. The door shuts and the ignition is turned. Within moments, I feel the vehicle driving off, taking me with it.
Where am I being taken?
The driver does not drive in a hurry, most likely so his actions are not perceived as being unusual.
I’m trying to think and to listen. I remember from training that I need to try to figure out whatever details I can. I need to try to work out how many people are around and what direction we are heading towards. I think I only heard one person. There was no talking. I feel the vehicle make several turns. Right, then left, then left, then right, then another left. I am quickly losing track as to what direction we are headed as we speed faster down the road.
Is there anything else I can hear, smell, touch? Any detail at all?
After what seems like an eternity, I hear him whisper, “Don’t be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. We have a long drive so try to relax.” That voice. It sounds familiar.
He says he is not going to hurt me but I’m not relieved because who knows if this freak is telling the truth?
I must think. I have to find a way to escape or alert another car on the road. I try to adjust my hands but my wrists are bound too tight. I try the same with my feet, but I cannot move them either. There must be a way out.
Think Holly! Wait a second, did he just say a long drive?
I finally muster some courage to speak. “Who are you?”
There is no answer.
“Where are you taking me?” I plead.
Still no answer.
“Why are you doing this?” My voice cracks from a combination of stress and fear.
Still no answer. I give up trying to get him to speak as my body shudders trying to hold back from sobbing.
There have been so many turns made that I’ve lost track of our direction. I now have no idea where we are. I feel hopelessly full of terror and I’m too scared to talk or even cry.
Who has taken me? Why are they doing this? How long will it be before someone realises that I am gone? Tom is overseas, how will he even find out? Will anyone care that I’m missing?
Shock is making me dozy, so to stay alert I begin running through the list of offenders I have recently sent to jail or given new charges to. I have come up with a short list for what freak may have kidnapped me, and it scares me to think of it being any of them. I know too much of what they are capable of.
I can't stop thinking what this person may do to me. Beads of sweat form on the back of my neck and I am conscious of my heart beating faster with every second the vehicle moves further away. Beyond frightened of what this person may do to me, all I can do is pray for strength and that whoever this is comes to their senses without hurting me.
Maybe I can negotiate with them before anything bad happens.
A single tear falls down my cheek as I drift off to sleep after hours of futilely trying to come up with a plan. I still don’t know what to do, or even if there is anything I can do to get away.
FEELING GROGGY FROM sleeping, I try to stretch my body, but it quickly registers that I can’t. As I come to, I remember that this is not a nightmare. I’ve been kidnapped and am stuck in the backseat of someone’s truck. My pulse instantly quickens as fear begins to overtake my thoughts.
I still have something over my head so I cannot see. I have no idea how much time has passed or where we are driving to. Again, I try to struggle as my wrists are hurting and I notice my throat is parched.
I speak out in a raspy voice, “Please whoever you are, please tell me what you are doing with me. My wrists are throbbing. Can you please loosen them?”
I hear that familiar voice whisper, “Don’t be scared, Holly. I promise I’ll not hurt you. Just relax.”
How can I possibly relax right now? I am terrified.
Finally, the truck slows to a stop and I hear the engine turn off. My heart beats fast as though it may leap out of my chest. Adrenaline is rushing through me as I balance my plan of attack between flight or fight.
Holly, wake up. Be alert. Be ready to fight this man to protect yourself. Be ready to run.
I hear the driver open his door, get out and open the back door next to my head. Broad-shouldered arms gently wrap around me and push me up into a sitting position. I feel sick, like I may throw up and I cannot get my breath under control. The anticipation of what is happening is making me hyperventilate.
I then hear him whisper to me again, “I’m going to remove the hood. Don’t scream. No one will hear you. We’re too far away from anything so you can’t run. I promise I will not hurt you. Do you think you can stay calm?”
“Yeah,” I say, though it struggles to come out because I cannot catch my breath and my throat is dry. My body trembles from my nerves being coiled so tightly. A sob escapes my lips as I’m overcome with dread of who may be on the other side of this hood.
I feel hands around my neck as the hood is slowly removed. I blink to help my eyes adjust to the bright light. I gasp and immediately feel faint when I see who my captor is.
How can it be?
CHAPTER TWELVE
AIDEN IS STARING into my face, his eyes pleading for me to understand. I sit there completely shocked. “Holly, please don’t be upset. I couldn’t figure out any other way to be with you. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
I don’t know what to say as I stare at him, completely stunned by the face looking back at me. I’m not sure whether to be angry or relieved because it is Aiden who has taken me and not some other crazed, drug affected offender. I have no idea of what he wants to do with me, where he’s planning to take me, or if he could possibly hurt me.
How could Aiden be the one to kidnap me?
He lifts a bottle of water to my lips, pleading with me. “Please drink.”
I take a few sips. My throat finally feels relief, but I’m still too afraid to talk.
Is this what shock is?
As he again tilts the bottle to my lips, a drop escapes and drips down my chin. Aiden takes his thumb and gently wipes it away. He looks straight into my eyes. “Holly, I won’t hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise. I just want some time with you.” He looks at me as if he is searching for some acknowledgement that I believe him. But, in this moment, I’m not sure what to think.
“You hungry?”
I shake my head as the words fail to cross my lips.
Concern flashes across his face. “You must eat, Holly.”
I watch as those strong, dextrous hands peel an orange. He places a slice against my lips and I bite into it finding the ensuring sweetness almost satisfying. I scrutinise his every move as he carefully feeds me half of the orange and eats the other half himself. I do not see any hesitation or menace in his body language.
After we finish the orange, he pulls out some cut up salami and cheese and begins to feed this to me as well.
How much planning did he put into this?
“I guess this would go nicely with some wine under different circumstances, huh?” He makes a joke like he used to back in
my office, but I’m too shocked to react with anything other than a blank stare.
How is it my captor is someone I was already dreaming of being with?
I’m confused and unsure what to think.
“To show you I mean you no harm, I’ll untie your hands now. We’re too far for you to run anywhere and it’s getting late. The sun will be starting to set.”
As he loosens up the gaffer tape, he continues talking. “I promise to keep you safe and treat you well. I’m taking you out to my property.”
His property?
I wished I paid more attention to the address he gave me. I realise I have no idea where we are other than a general area of Queensland.
I wince as he rips the tape from my wrists, which is as pleasant as when I get my bikini wax.
Aiden apologises. “Sorry. I don’t want you to be in any pain.”
I say nothing as I knead my wrists to help get rid of the soreness. Untying my legs, he says, “Let me help you get out of the truck to stretch your legs before we continue. We still have a little way to go before we get home.”
Aiden stretches his hand out and I look at it puzzled.
Should I be taking the hand of my captor?
The only way to get down from the backseat of his truck is if I accept his help, so I take his hand and hop down.
My legs are stiff, but after a few steps, I’m steady on my feet again. It’s strange but I don’t have the urge to run. The fear I was feeling is subsiding now that I know who my captor is. But do I really know him enough to believe he won’t hurt me?
I take a look around. All I see is the beautiful, arid countryside with miles and miles going nowhere fast. I recognise nothing. There is truly nowhere to run to if I wanted to run.
Aiden opens the front passenger door for me to sit next to him for the remainder of the drive. As we are driving, I scan the road for street signs or any indication of where we may be, but there’s nothing. We are so far in the country that we drive for several hours without even seeing another car or truck.
The sun is in front of us now, setting in spectacular fashion showing colours of amber and violet.
Taken Outback (The Dusty Rider Series Book 1) Page 10