His Damsel in Distress

by Thianna D

  Her drive home took less than two minutes and after parking her car in the garage, she walked inside. Two steps past the doorway pain exploded across the back of her head and everything went dark.

  * * * * *

  Groaning at the hard pounding in her head, Zinnia reached back, surprised to find a huge bump and something sticky covering her hair. As she moved to sit up, pain sliced across her skull and she lay her head down. She was on carpet – she could feel that – but where? And what happened?

  Blinking her eyes open, she found herself in the dark. “Damn,” she muttered, wondering just what she’d done.

  “Well, look who’s awake.”

  Startled at the voice, she sat up, crying out at the pain pounding in her head. “Who’s there?” she asked, as she could only see shadows, enough to know she was in her living room.

  “Ah, Alizine,” the voice said, “didn’t you know I was coming?” The voice sounded as though it was coming through a tinny speaker, which made no sense. Neither did his words, at first. Then it hit her.

  “But the FBI caught you!”

  A bark of a laugh from him made her wince. “Yes, they caught somebody. Not me. No, they weren’t going to catch me. I made sure of that, my Alizine.”

  Trembling as his tone took on a very proprietary note on the last two words, she once again reached back and felt her head. The lump was huge. Now she knew what happened. He must have hit her with something.

  Oh, no. And all the safety precautions were gone. No security locks, no code calls, no chance at being rescued. Trembling, she barely stopped herself from throwing up. No. She wasn’t going to allow the bastard to make her shrink. He thought of her as Alizine Layton, well then he should know what a bitch she could be.

  “You’ll sing for me, won’t you?” he said and she realized she hadn’t been listening to him.

  “You knocked me out and I’ve got a blistering headache. I’m not going to be singing for a while,” she said, using a tone she had only used when working with people in the theatre. Oh, how fast it came back.

  “You’ll sing for me if I say,” he snapped and she cried out as something hard collided with her hip. It felt like he kicked her with pointy boots. “If you don’t sing, I’ll just have to hurt you more. I don’t want to hurt you, Alizine, but I will. You need to learn your place.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, searching her mind for something, anything she could do to get help. One thing she had learned was the people in this community didn’t sit back when someone was in trouble. There were four men she had gotten to know pretty well on her own cul-de-sac. If one of them knew she was in trouble, he would call in reinforcements.

  “Because you’re mine,” he snarled, kicking her again. “Sing!” His tinny voice bothered her. Obviously whoever he was, he had done something to it so she couldn’t recognize it – it almost sounded computerized.

  Taking in a deep breath, she tried, she really tried, but in her condition singing was not easy. Her head pounded and her throat ached. There had to be a way out of this!

  “Fuck,” he grunted, kicking her again. “You moved to Colorado and lost your voice?”

  “No!” she shot back. “You cut off Devon’s cock! That’s when I lost my voi—” A strong hand grasped her throat and squeezed, cutting off her ability to speak or breathe.

  “You went out with another man,” he spat. “I had to show the world you were mine. You’re mine, Alizine. After I take care of your boyfriend, I’ll join you.”

  “Join me where?” she asked as he released her.

  “Where we can be together.”

  Holy shit. The guy was insane. He truly thought she would go somewhere with him. “You don’t have to do anything to Corbin,” she said, afraid of what he’d do.

  A low snicker that sounded evil in the small space surrounded her. “Oh, but I do, Alizine. He’s going to pay for touching my girl. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll be half the man he is. Oh, I won’t kill him,” he said. “That wouldn’t work. No. I want him to suffer for a very long time.”

  Trembling, she tried to find him in the dark. Why was it so dark, anyway? “How long was I out?” she asked.

  “Five hours.” His voice was further away now. “Now, sing for me. I’m going to make myself something to eat and you’re going to sing for me. My own little bird. Just you wait. I’ll put you in a gilded cage and you can sing for me forever.”

  Her mouth dropped open. The guy was certifiable. He thought he’d stick her in a cage and she’d sing for him? “Go to hell.”

  Another snicker of a laugh. “Oh, I’ve been there for months, little bird. The only difference now, is you’ll join me.”

  “They’ll look for me.”

  “No, they won’t. The house will go up in flames. Everyone will just assume you died in the fire.”

  Had he thought of everything? He was insane. Surely he’d missed something.

  The ring of her phone made her jolt and she instantly looked at her pocket.

  “Don’t answer it,” he growled, his voice far too close for comfort.

  “I-if I don’t, someone will come check on me.” Or so she hoped. With everyone thinking her stalker was caught, they might not.

  “Fine. But make sure whoever it is knows you’re just fine, got it?” Fine? At the word, she knew what she needed to do. “And I can see you even though you can’t see me, so don’t try anything.”

  Pulling out her phone, she glanced at the caller ID. Corbin. Oh, god, Corbin. This might be the last time she ever got to talk to him and there were so many things she wanted to say. But she couldn’t. Because if she did, her stalker would probably kill her. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she answered it. “Hi, Char,” she said in a happy voice, hoping the scratchiness in her throat wasn’t apparent to the man on the other end of the line.

  “Zinnia? It’s me, honey.”

  “Oh, no,” she said with a laugh. “You don’t have to. Really, Char. I’m fine,” she said, aware she’d emphasized the word and hoping the man standing nearby just thought she was doing it because he said so.

  “Fine?” Corbin’s voice went flat.

  “Yep. I’m just gonna stay in and pack for the rest of the night. Moving day is so close, you know.” She laughed again, hoping it didn’t sound as fake to him as it did to her. “I’ll talk to you later. Say hi to Brent for me.” Hanging up, she put the phone down, feeling the tears trickle from her eyes. That might have been the last time she talked to him and she couldn’t even really talk. “I hate you,” she whispered.

  The man laughed. “No you don’t. You love me. You just don’t realize it yet.”

  Putting out her hand, she found a wall, and moved up next to it, leaning her body against the cool, hard surface. “Now what?”

  “I eat while you sing. Then, I give you a little shot to put you out. I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you under for now, but don’t worry,” he said, pure amusement in his tone, “I’ll film your boyfriend’s punishment so you can see it later. His screams will be delightful,” he said, the manic tone back in his voice.

  Whimpering softly, she closed her eyes. All she could do was imagine the frantic man back in New York City calling Brent and anyone else to let them know. Or at least she hoped he was. What if he couldn’t get hold of anyone?

  Items thunked on the counter tops and her cupboards opened several times. The bastard was actually humming a happy tune.

  She jumped when he smacked her on the side of the head. “Sing, Alizine,” he commanded.

  * * * * *

  Corbin froze for barely a second when the call cut off. “Fuck!” he roared, hitting Brent’s speed dial. It rang and rang before going to voice mail. Hitting end, he called again and again until the man finally answered the phone.

  “What?” his friend grunted. “I want you to know you interrupted one hell of a—”

  “It’s Zinnia!” he hollered into the phone. “The FBI was wrong! She’s in her hom
e and the stalker’s got her, Brent!”

  “Fuck!” All annoyance left his friend’s voice. “I’ll call the police. Are you in New York?”

  “No, just pulling into the community.”

  “Meet me at the dome. Do not do anything heroic, Corbin. You don’t have the tools.”

  “But he could be hurting her right now.” His anguish poured through each word.

  “I know,” Brent said calmly. “Meet me at the dome. We’ll get her, Corbin, and put this bastard where he belongs. Meet me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Corbin pulled into the empty parking lot, hoping he didn’t have to wait long.

  He didn’t. Five minutes later, they started to arrive. Brent, the three police officers, as well as Benjamin and Brandon, both former military men.

  “What did she say?” Brent asked as he opened his truck door.

  “She acted like I was Char. Told me she was fine and that she was just going to spend the rest of the night at home, packing.”

  “Damn.” Brent had always had the knack to be a good detective, but he had preferred the street. Corbin, even as scared as he was for his girl, watched his friend take charge, directing everything as if he was still a NYC cop. For the first time since hearing her voice break on the phone, Corbin felt a little boost of hope.

  Seven men ran to Zinnia’s home. When they got there, all the lights were out. “I wonder if he’s wearing night vision goggles,” Brent said with interest. “That would be in our favor.”

  “Why?” Corbin asked.

  “If we turn the light on, it’ll blind him,” Benjamin explained. “Very painful. Serves the putrid slime right.”

  Benjamin and two of the cops headed around the side of her house, planning on entering through the rear. Brandon, Brent, Corbin and the remaining cop went up to her front door. Brent leaned against it. “Nothing,” he murmured.

  And then they heard it. The most haunting song Corbin had ever heard came from within in Zinnia’s beautiful voice. Pulling out his spare keys, Brent slid one into the lock. “We have seconds,” he explained again. “I’ll hit the light switch.”

  “I’ll aim,” Officer Leano said with relish. “If he moves, he’s dead.”

  “I don’t think any of us would be sad about that,” Brandon muttered. He nodded to Brent who turned the door knob and leapt inside. Light flashed on and a male screamed within. Leano and Brandon rushed in, Corbin right on their tails. A man dressed all in black with some sort of strange visor on over his eyes and what looked like a modified harmonica over his mouth was writhing on the floor in obvious agony. Against the far wall, Zinnia had her eyes covered, but she was still singing, tears dripping down her cheeks as she did.

  Rushing to her side, he knelt down and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay,” he murmured.

  “C-Corbin?” she stuttered.

  “It’s me, baby. We’ve got you.”

  Grabbing hold of him, she held on as if her life depended on it. “He’s crazy,” she gasped. “Absolutely insane.”

  “Shh, baby. We’ll take care of him.”

  “We?”

  “Oh, there’s a gaggle of us,” he assured her.

  “Thank you for coming for me.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Couldn’t keep me away, baby.”

  Brandon let in the others through the French doors and they all stood around the whimpering man who finally got his goggles off. What an idiot. One of the policemen jerked his arms roughly behind his back and read him his rights.

  “But she’s mine!” he screamed.

  Zinnia’s head came up and the look of shock on her face worried Corbin. “Ken?” she gasped and he looked at the man now jerked to his feet. “Ken?” she shrieked, struggling to get out of Corbin’s arms. He didn’t let her. “You fucking bastard! You? You were my agent, damnit!”

  “You’re mine!” he screamed back. “Mine! I made you! Now you’re gonna sing for me!”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Benjamin said, punching him in the gut. Ken folded with a wheeze. Walking up to the two of them, the retired Marine knelt down. “That’s a pretty nasty bump.”

  Until then Corbin had been so busy holding her that he hadn’t noticed. The back of her head was covered in blood.

  “Brent, we’ll need the helicopter,” Benjamin continued, his voice calm and even as he watched Zinnia. “We’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll get you patched up.”

  The next hour felt too long. Marcus Devon showing up, the rush to the helipad, the twenty-minute ride down to the hospital, and then the blasted waiting while they wouldn’t let him in with her. Corbin paced back and forth, wanting to hit something, or more to the point someone by the name of Ken.

  Benjamin and Jonathon had driven down and with all the waiting he and Zinnia had to do were at the hospital before them. They tried to keep him calm, but calm was far from what he was feeling. First the four harrowing days with his brother-in-law and now this.

  “Corbin,” Jonathon said in his normal quiet tone. It was always so gentle that Corbin turned instantly and waited. It was impossible to be angry at this man. “Marcus said the blow was hard and she had a concussion, but that these people were the best.”

  “I just wish the FBI had caught the right guy,” he hissed.

  “Mr. Nelson?” Whipping around, Corbin spotted a younger man in light blue scrubs walking toward him.

  “Yes? Is Zinnia okay?”

  “My name’s Josh Martin; I’m a Nurse Practitioner here at the hospital. As her doctor is busy, Zinnia asked me to come explain what’s going on. Right now we’re doing a couple scans. The blow was pretty hard and we want to make sure there’s no internal bleeding or blood clots to worry about. The scans will take another hour or two before we take her to her room. She’ll need to stay at least tonight, maybe longer depending on the results of the scan.”

  “Can I stay with her?”

  He smiled. “She asked the same thing. I’m afraid not. Currently the hospital is filled to capacity and she’ll be in a triple room. But you’ll be able to see her before she goes up to her room and visiting hours start at ten tomorrow. I’ll have a nurse come get you when the scans are finished.”

  “Thank you.”

  Josh walked away and Corbin collapsed into a chair next to Benjamin. “This sucks.”

  He patted Corbin’s leg. “Just think about in three days when you two can move into your house and all this is behind you. Don’t concentrate on the negatives.”

  Jonathon groaned. “He’s become very metaphysical lately.”

  Benjamin grasped Jonathon’s knee. “And I’ll carry you along with me, babe.”

  It was almost two hours, which were filled with bad hospital coffee and a trip to the cafeteria which did not bring about anything decent, before a nurse walked out. “Mr. Nelson?”

  “That’s me,” he said, jumping to his feet.

  “Miss Loraine is groggy but wants to see you before they take her up to her room. Keep your voice low as loud sounds jar her at the moment.” He followed her into the emergency area. “You have fifteen minutes,” she said, pointing to one of the doors.

  Opening it, he looked in. Zinnia looked like hell. Her face was black and blue and a bandage was wrapped around her head several times. “Hey,” he murmured, walking up to the bed.

  She blinked her eyes and he could tell they must have given her something for the pain as she had a hard time focusing. “Hey,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. He quickly grasped it lightly between his own.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Tired.”

  “I bet. Did they tell you the results of the scans?”

  “Mmhmm. A little internal bleeding but they said it stopped. I wanna go home.” Her lips trembled and he ached to be able to tell her he’d take her.

  “I know, honey, I know. They want to keep you here overnight to make sure nothing bad happens. Just think,” he said, trying to cheer her up. “No more stalker and we move
in together in a few days.”

  A tremulous smile crossed her face. “I love you, Corbin.”

  “I love you, too.” He drifted his fingers along her face, wanting to hold her but afraid to hurt her. “I promise when everything’s back to normal, I’ll spank your tush.”

  A little giggle left her lips. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling softly at her. The door opened behind him and two men in scrubs walked in. “Looks like they’re taking you up to your room. I’ll see you the moment they let me tomorrow morning, okay?”

  “Don’t go?” she begged, tears once again forming around her eyes.

  “I don’t want to. But the hospital won’t let me stay.”

  “Oh.” She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and offering the world’s worst smile. “Tomorrow, then?”

  “First thing. Anything I can bring you?”

  “Ice cream?”

  Snorting a laugh, he nodded. “I’ll smuggle some in if I can.” Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the one area that didn’t seem to have any bruises. “I love you.”

  “Mmm,” she said and her eyelids drifted downward.

  Stepping back, he let the nurses do their work. Once they had her machinery attached to the gurney they left the room; he followed until they disappeared into the elevator. Turning to the nurses’ station, he spotted a nurse going through some files. “Excuse me?”

  She turned. “Yes?”

  “What room will Miss Loraine be in tomorrow? So I can go directly there.”

  With that information in hand, he strode out to the waiting room where Benjamin, Jonathon, and Brent awaited him. He raised an eyebrow at the latter. “How is she?” Brent asked. “I drove down as fast as I could once the FBI took control of Ken.”

  “Okay. A little internal bleeding but I guess it’s stopped. They took her up to her room now.”

  “All right. Let’s get back home and one of us will drive you down tomorrow.”

  “Why?” Corbin asked.

  “Because in the shape you’re in, you shouldn’t be driving,” Benjamin said, putting an arm around Jonathon as the four of them walked out.