If I Could I'd Wish It All Away (I Wish Book 1)
Page 34
“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you. Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’m not yours, and I never will be. When will you get that through your thick head?” I scream.
“No, we belong together,” he shouts.
“No, I belong to Dean. I have ever since I can remember, long before I even knew you existed. You don’t hold a candle to him.”
“If I can’t have you then no one will!” he roars, and my body trembles as he pulls a knife from his back pocket. His face is lethal, murderous, and I know I won’t be surviving this.
“No,” I cry and hold the stick up higher, wishing I had something thicker, bigger to hit him with. It’s heavy in my hands, and my arms begin to shake, my strength weakening with each passing second.
“You make me so hard when you’re frightened.” He laughs, and I gag, crying.
“You’re sick,” I hiss.
He laughs again before his face turns cold, a deadly look in his eyes. I don’t even have a second of warning before he’s charging at me. I scream again, as loud as my sore voice will let me, and step backwards.
Before I can turn away, he’s on me, knocking the wind out of my chest and pushing me to the ground. I lose the stick as dirt fills my mouth and stones, stingers and twigs cut at my chest.
“Get over here,” he snaps, dragging me backwards, and I kick out.
He turns me so he’s straddling me, and I kick out, trying to wiggle backwards but only managing to get so far before he has me pinned, immobile. He pressed the knife against my throat.
I gasp, my eyes widening with fear. When he presses it harder, piercing my skin, I go stock-still, tears falling from my eyes.
All I can think about at that moment is how I’ll never see Dean again, how we’re never going to have a family or get married. I’m never going to see my grandpa or spend time with him or the rest of the Salvatores. My heart breaks and the pain is excruciating, worse than anything Rick has ever done to me before. This is by far the worst feeling I’ve ever had to endure; I can feel my insides pulling apart, the pain unbearable. He’s taken so much from me, more than just ripping away my identification and resolve.
“Don’t do this,” I beg, trying not to move.
He can’t take my life. I won’t let him.
He sits up, removing one hand from my wrists and sliding it between my breasts before cupping one, squeezing it until I whelp in pain. His touch is rough, hard, and bile rises in my throat as I close my eyes, trying to fight off the flashbacks ready to surface. The night he last raped me, the worst night of my life, comes to mind and my eyes snap open, forcing the images out.
“That’s it. You finally get it. I can do whatever the hell I want to you, and it’s about time you learn. You’re never leaving me, never. You don’t get a fucking choice,” he sneers, his lips curling as he tries to smirk down at me.
I choke back a sob when his hands move down to undo my jeans again, but then I realise he’s no longer holding a knife to my throat. Since my hands are already above my head, I move them farther, feeling the ground for the stick. More tears fall as I have to lie there and let him touch me, defile me.
Since I’m soaked through, my jeans are hard to remove, and he can’t get them past my hips. It gives me enough time to find what I was searching for. When the rough, bark is in my grip again, my heart hammers inside my chest.
Rick grunts, apparently frustrated with my jeans before he gives up and tries to shove his hand down my pants. I scream out, and he startles before his eyes widen for a split second. It’s all I need. I swing the stick down, knocking him in the back of the head. He falls to the side, his hand still inside my jeans. I rip it out, shoving him off me before scrambling away from him, needing to move.
I’ve never felt so weak before, my whole body like jelly. I turn, crawling on my hands and knees to get away from him.
“No!” I scream when he grabs my ankle, dragging me back. He tugs harder, and my arms collapse beneath me, my head hitting another rock.
My vision blurs, spots blinking in front of me as I try to focus. For a split second, I forget where I am and what I’m doing on the ground soaking wet.
I cry out when he grabs me by the hair, pulling back so my face is brought up against his. He leans down, his mouth at my ear. “You’re going to fucking pay for that,” he hisses, right before a hot burning sensations tears through the skin on my back. I scream out, arching away from the pain, but it only causes him to press further.
“Please! Please don’t do this,” I beg, my voice weak.
“Beg, bitch. Beg. It just makes me harder for you.” He chuckles and, to prove a point, presses his hardness against my ass. I throw up all over the forest ground, dirt sticking to the saliva stringing from my mouth. I cry out, humiliated.
He turns me around, slamming my back against the ground before slapping me across the pain. The wet sting radiates through my cheek, the soreness overwhelming.
Kicking out, I manage to take him by surprise and push him away a little, enough for me to grab the stick again. I swing at his arm this time, and the knife sails through the air, landing a few feet away from us as he roars in pain.
He moves again, and I can see the indecision on his face on whether or not he should get the knife. With that split second, I kick out again, knocking him back. He lands on his back, sounding winded.
I get up, screaming for help before running. He runs after me and grabs the back of my jeans. My body is turned and shoved violently against the tree as I continue to scream out.
“Shut the fuck up!” he shouts, and I wince in pain when he grabs my cheeks, squeezing them. “I’m going to make you pay for everything―for leaving me, for letting another man touch you, and for defying me. I’m going to make you wish you were never born.”
I’m knocked to the ground when he lands a punch to the side of my head.
“Stop! Please, stop,” I beg, holding my hand out to him as I kneel on the ground.
“Never, you fucking bitch,” he screams and walks towards the knife. In a panic, I head to the stick, making a grab for it.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he shouts, forgetting the knife and heading towards me. I don’t know what makes me do it or how I find the energy, but with a hoarse cry, I run towards him, swinging the stick behind my back. When he nears, I bring it forward hitting him in the shoulder. He falls to his knees, and I bring it back up, ready to hit him across the head. It’s something I’ve dreamt of doing since he started beating me, but when he grabs the stick and pulls it out of my grip, I scream, letting go and pummelling him with my bare hands instead. I smack him as hard as I can, anywhere I can reach. Rick’s unfazed and slaps both my hands away before pushing me in the chest, knocking me back a few steps before I land on my ass.
He moves quickly and before I know it he has his hands around my throat, squeezing the life out of me.
Everything happens in slow motion after that. I fight, clawing at his wrists to loosen his hold, but he keeps a firm grip, squeezing tighter. His face reddens and as I blink through the rain, I notice the look in his eyes, one I’ve seen from him before. My whole life flashes before me, and I fall back to the ground, the fight leaving.
Knowing this is the end, I close my eyes and picture Dean’s handsome face. I smile―at least I think I do―when I see him clearly, his handsome face smiling down at me while he makes love to me. He laughs and kisses my neck, which makes me giggle, and tells me he loves me.
The grip around my neck tightens.
I tell Dean I love him, whispering the words out loud and wishing he were here to hear them. I hope he knows how much I love him, and I wish that somehow, somewhere along the line, he finds happiness and love once again. Someone like Dean deserves to be loved, to have the greatest love there is.
White dots cover my vision, and for a split second, I think I’m dead, the pressure on my neck suddenly gone.
I thought going to heaven would be peaceful, pain free, and that my parents would be
there waiting for me, but all I see is blackness before my mind goes blank and everything around me stills, the silence deafening.
CHAPTER 35
DEAN
It feels like I’m putting more distance between Lola and me the farther into the woods I run. Her screams still echo, but it feels like the trees and wind are mocking me, not wanting me to find her. I feel like I’m close, yet so far away and it’s killing me, eating me up inside.
I yell in frustration and turn to a broken trail, seeing footprints squelched into the mud. Another scream has me picking up speed. Her scream…. It’s filled with pain and fear, and I feel useless, like I’m running round in circles with no hope of ever reaching her in time.
The air is suddenly silent and my heart pounds, a new scary feeling taking route. I pause for a second, trying to hear something, anything, but there’s nothing but silence. I groan, running my hands through my hair as I look around. A broken trail not far from where I’m standing catches my attention, and I move towards it, my eyes widening when I see a large amount of dirt disturbed near a bank.
I stop at the top, my eyes widening in horror when I see Lola’s motionless body lying there on the floor. I wait, watching her chest for any signs of life, but I don’t see any.
My heart rate spikes and movement from the corner of my eye gains my attention. Turning my head in the direction of her feet, I find Rick. He’s kneeling there, pulling her jeans down. They’re by her ankles now, and I see red. My eyes cloud over and my mind goes blank. The only thing that registers is revenge, and I fly down the bank, my feet barely touching the ground on the way down.
Rick doesn’t hear me come down, too occupied with what he’s doing. But when I get to the bottom, rage burns through me and I growl. He hears me, his eyes widening when he sees the look on my face. Slowly he gets up, a small smirk on his lips.
“She loved it,” he taunts, and I charge. Bending at the waist, I shove my shoulder in his chest and rush forward, keeping him in my grip until I see the tree. I move back at the last second so only Rick slams into it. He grunts, his face scrunching in pain as he struggles to breathe. I don’t give him time to recover, landing blows to the face one after another until he catches his bearings and starts hitting me back.
He pushes me, and I fall back a few steps before standing strong and going at him again.
“She’s fucking mine!” he roars, punching me in the stomach.
“She’s her own fucking person, but she’s my woman. And you’ve hurt her,” I growl, kneeing him in the stomach. He coughs, falling back on his ass.
I step forward, standing over him. He smirks, his mouth full of blood. “Yeah, but can you fuck her like I can and make her love it?”
Without thinking of the consequences, I lift my booted foot and stamp down on the side of his head. He’s instantly out cold, but I don’t care, kicking him in the ribs over and over until I see Lola’s motionless body.
I stumble backwards, my eyes widening as I struggle to get to her. My legs shake, a strangled sob breaking from my chest as I kneel on the floor next to her.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out, wiping her wet hair from her face. The intake of breath I hear when I touch her is visible and I start shaking.
My fingers find her neck, searching for her pulse at the same time I grab my phone, dialling Cage. Her pulse is weak, and I scramble for ideas of what to do.
Her body is bruised and torn up; I don’t want to move her and cause further injury.
“I’m in the fucking woods, where are you?” Cage shouts.
“You need to get here quick. She’s in bad condition. Tell them to drive down the lane and take the first dirt road on the left. I can see it from here,” I shout.
“On it,” he says before whispering to someone.
“Who’s that?”
“I’ve got a paramedic with me. Where’s Rick?” he asks, his tone hesitant.
“Knocked the fuck out,” I growl, not wanting to think about that sick fuck. If I do, I can’t promise I won’t go back there and finish what I started.
“Shout so I can hear you. I need to know where you are,” he says, sounding out of breath.
I mute my phone, set it on loudspeaker and start shouting.
“Over here!” I roar, shining my phone and waving it around.
“I’m close. I can hear, so keep shouting,” he tells me and I yell louder before bending down. I quickly take off my jacket and jumper and place them over Lola, keeping her warm as I cradle her head in my lap.
I kiss her forehead, soothing her hair when I hear Cage nearby.
“I’m over here,” I shout to Cage and wave my phone around. When he comes into view, I sigh with relief.
“Fuck! Oh, fuck,” Cage growls, ripping the jacket off his body and covering Lola with it too. The paramedic moves quickly, kneeling down next to Lola and working on her. He grabs his handheld radio and calls it in.
“We’re here,” a voice says over the radio, and sure enough, a light from the ambulance shines on us.
“Where’s Rick?” Cage rushes out. In a daze, I look at him.
“Over there,” I growl, looking at his motionless body.
A foiled blanket is taken out of the bag the paramedic has. He takes the coats off Lola, replacing them with the blanket. Another medic rushes out, and the one kneeling next to Lola speaks up.
“There’s another unconscious over there,” he tells her, and my head snaps up.
“You move to even check on that sorry piece of shit and I will have you fired. She needs to go to hospital, now. The police can deal with him,” I snap, giving them a deadly look.
They both startle and nod. The woman bends down, sliding a yellow board under Lola. She still hasn’t moved, and the ache in my chest only intensifies.
“The police are coming down here in a few minutes. They’re gonna wait until the ambulance pulls out so they don’t block us in,” Cage says as he walks back. I look over my shoulder and growl when I see Rick is awake. Barely but still, the urge to go over there and knock him out again is undeniably strong. The fucker doesn’t deserve to live.
I don’t leave Lola as they carry her over to the ambulance, sliding her in on a bed. I sit at the back, watching helplessly as they set her up to machines, checking her vitals and whatnot. The second her heartbeat, although faint, comes through the speakers, I break. A sob tears from my throat and I drop my head, my hands cupping her feet as I cry.
“I love you so much,” I sob, not caring if the paramedics think I’m crazy.
I nearly lost my woman tonight.
I could have lost her.
But from here on out, I plan to do everything I can to protect her. Starting with getting that piece of filth to prison.
CHAPTER 35
LOLA
What is that God-awful beeping sound?
And why does my body feel light, pain-free and warm? I don’t get it. The last thing I remember is the darkness, the tight hand gripping my throat.
At least, I think that’s what happened, I’m not sure. Everything seems foggy, like a dream drifting in and out of realms.
Turning, my eyes burn from the bright light, and I shield them with my hands. The light seems to lessen and when I open my eyes, I gasp.
Spinning in a circle, I smile, feeling the warmth on my face. I’m in our meadow. Mine and Dean’s, and it’s heavenly.
Bright-coloured flowers blossom from the ground, the grass greener than I’ve ever seen it, and dandelions float in the air like mist around me. The place is unreal. Even the trees look taller, brighter, and the feeling of happiness and love consumes me.
This is heaven. It has to be.
“Not quite,” my mother’s voice muses, and I spin around so fast I nearly fall over.
“Mom?” I croak, looking and finding it’s really her. She’s standing in the meadow not far from where I am, Dad by her side. “Dad?”
“It’s us, doll,” he whispers, his voice choked up.
&nb
sp; I run through the flowers and throw my arms around them, a sob breaking free. They smell just like I remembered, but they look different. They look healthy, care-free and happy.
“I’ve missed you so much. I hate that you’re gone, that you’re not there,” I choke out and pull away, wanting to look at my parents’ faces again. My mom’s hair looks longer, shinier, and I smile when she smiles at me, running her fingers through my own. I glance to my dad and my eyes water when I find his green ones, like mine, staring down at me. “What am I doing here? Am I dead? Please don’t leave me, not again,” I cry and fall to my knees. The ground softens and I choke back a gasp, finding a blanket of pillows beneath me instead.
As if reading my mind, my mom sits down, reaching for my hand. “You’re in between. You’re neither dead nor alive. Anything you want, or think of, or need will appear to your heart’s content.”
“But how? How are you here?” I ask, looking at them. “God, I love you and miss you so much.”
I’m still in shock, in awe, and I can’t keep my eyes off them. My dad takes my other hand, and together we sit in a circle, holding each other.
“LoLo, we don’t have a lot of time,” Mom whispers sadly.
“No! You can’t leave me. Not again,” I tell them vehemently, shaking my head.
“We love you and miss you every day, sweet girl, but now is not your time,” Dad says, squeezing my hand.
“What do you mean?” I ask, wiping my tears.
“You have to wake up. You need to. Your life isn’t meant to be over. You’ve still got so much to achieve and give,” Mom finishes.
“No, please no. I can’t leave you. Can you come with me?” I cry, begging them. Tears fill their eyes as they look at me and I feel small, like the eleven-year-old girl I was when I lost them.
“We’ve never really left you, my girl. We’ve always been watching over you. We’ve watched you fight and pull through so much, and you can do it again this time. You’re strong, Lola, and we’re so proud of you.”