Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1)

by Unknown

  I inhale a deep cleansing breath, clasping my shaky hands together, regaining my composure. I listen intently for the sirens, but only the grinding sounds of crushed metal, blustery wind wailing, and the creaking of tree branches snapping off echo within the SUV.

  Another gust of wind whips into the car triggering it to rock. I whimper silently from the harsh, cold air nipping at my skin and suddenly fear frostbite. I flail my arms and legs to keep the circulation moving.

  I glance at Michael and fear washes over me as I watch him struggle to breathe and the blood continues to ooze slowly from his wound. His body begins to shiver, reacting to the blood loss and the fridge temperature. I scrounge around for his black leather jacket he offered me earlier. I swing my arm around from my seat. “Ahhh!” I cry out and my eyes begin to water from the sharp pain radiating from my right arm. Oh, God, please him me, I’m about ready to crumple.

  “Are you all right Ms. DiMarco?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” I say faintly.

  “I’m here for you, Ms. DiMarco.”

  “Thank you, I just need a moment to myself, I’m a bit disoriented.”

  “Yes . . . of course, I’ll check up on you again,” Victoria says compassionately.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment, shaking my head with disgust. I take deep a breath and try once again. I swing my arm back. I groan out loud from the pain shooting into my arm and the pounding in my head, but with relief I found his jacket and grab it, holding it tight within my hand. I tuck his jacket around his stomach just below the branch and beneath his legs. I hope this helps.

  I bang on the rooftop of the car and kick the dashboard with my feet; annoyed that no one has shown up. Where are the police? I still when I hear the sounds of snow crunching beneath someone’s footsteps. Yes, yes, yes, help is on the way. Oh, thank God, but then my excitement deflates. What if it’s him? The psychopath.

  I clasp my hands together to say a silent prayer. I jerk as the steps approach closer, and now a pair of legs with boots appears beside my door. The back of my neck begins to prickle. The person bends down, and I stare directly in his face.

  My eyes grow wide, my heart skids to a stop and then leaps into the depths of hell. I wish the branch were entrenched in my chest instead of Michael’s. Any hope I had of being saved is now lost.

  I go into shock at the face glowering at me. I am awestricken with panic, seeing my future death. I sit frozen against my seat, stunned. This night has turned into a total nightmare.

  I glare at the six-foot tall, husky, blond-haired man with beady, little, cold brown eyes and watch the vapors flare through his nose and mouth.

  “Danny,” I squeak out, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You’re . . . su-su- supposed to be dead,” I stutter out, my body going into convulsions.

  “Wrong, try again, baby doll.” His voice reeks of pure evil.

  Wrong? Did I inhale too much gasoline or hit my head too hard against the window? I shake the fog off and take a closer look at the clean-shaven man who stands before me. There is no doubt this is Danny. So why does he deny his identity?

  “I’ve come for you, my beloved sister-in-law,” he says, and his words rip into me like sharp blades.

  “Sister-in-law? No,” I whisper. I search deep into his eyes, and a weird sensation bleeds over me. They may resemble Danny’s, but these eyes are so much colder and crueler, with an evil soul beneath them.

  He moves his face closer until it is just inches away from mine and says, “I’m your brother-in-law. Let me give you a quick history. Danny, your dead husband, was my twin brother.”

  Danny was a twin? Why didn’t he ever tell me?

  “I shocked you, didn’t I?”

  “More like traumatized,” I mutter to myself.

  He smiles and continues. “We were both adopted. Danny by a loving, wealthy couple, and I by a couple of lowlifes who used me and the other children they took in as child slaves,” he explains, his jaw clenching tighter as he speaks.

  “Wh-what does that have to do wi-with me? D-Danny and I di-divorced over three years ago,” I stutter with trembling lips as my body shivers out of control.

  “When I reached the age I could leave the hellhole I lived in, I went hunting for my biological mother, and instead, to my surprise, I found out that I had a twin. It took me a few years to find him. After I had located my brother and all his success, I was madder than hell, downright angry, jealous, and determined to take everything he had, his company, fortune . . . and you,” he growls out, his cold, heartless eyes terrifying me.

  I feel the knife digging deep into my chest. “Twins,” I mutter to myself. “What ma-makes you think I’d go anywhere with you?” I stammer out as my teeth chatter. “How did you know so much about me?” I rush out.

  A haunting laugh escapes through his lips. He steps back, rips open the door and cuts my seat belt with one swift move of his knife. I crumble onto the ceiling of the car. “Ahhh,” I cry out as he yanks me out by the hair, the cold seeping into my clothes as he drags me across the thick, layer of snow. I place my hands out to steady myself and sink deeper into the cold white fluff.

  He pulls me up by my injured arm and jerks me away from the SUV.

  “Ahhh!” I scream from the stabbing pain in my arm.

  “Ms. DiMarco, are you hurt? I heard a scream.” Victoria calls out.

  “Victoria, help me! A man is pulling me out of the car against my will.” I yell out. I hear Victoria dispatching the call.

  “We have a perpetrator pulling one of the victims out of the vehicle involuntarily. We need assistance now.”

  “Don’t fight me, baby doll,” he hisses against my ear, using the dreadful name Danny used to call me. Victoria calls out my name, but before I could answer, this lunatic pulls a gun from his waist and shoots the device. My heart plummets and I start to feel light-headed and disconnected. The sizzling wires from the dashboard sounds so final in my ringing ears. Any chance of communicating with Victoria is gone.

  “If you want your boy toy to live, I suggest you do as you’re told.” He licks me across the ear, making me recoil with disgust.

  Before I’m hauled to my death, I gaze at the SUV and memorize Michael’s beautiful face, reminiscing the short time we spent together. They were the most memorable moments of my entire life. I take one long last look and weep internally.

  I pray, beg, and plead to God to save him. I suck in a stuttering breath and mouth the words “I love you” to Michael with tear filled eyes.

  I stare at the thick white flakes surrounding the vehicle, now turning black and slushy from the massive amounts of oil and gas spilling from its guts.

  I turn to face my abductor, tempted to spit on him, “Look; you demented psycho, what is it that you want?” I say through gritted teeth, my fist clenched tightly at my sides, and every muscle trembling from anger, fear and the cold.

  He grips my bad arm, and I see stars from the pain he just inflicted on me. He pulls me up against his heaving chest.

  “Ariana . . . Ariana . . . I love the way your name flows from my lips,” he says trying to make it sound seductive and moans into the crook of my neck making me want to puke.

  “My name is Alden Callaway. I had confronted Danny six months before he died. He was just as shocked as I was to find out he was a twin and so damn happy. What a sucker.

  I’m startled when Alden shoves me forward with a slap against my back. “Move, Ariana,” he rasps out. “I don’t have patience. I want to get home so I can play with you,” he grates out with a laugh that sounds like the demon himself.

  I start moving slow, buying time until the police arrive . . . if they ever get here. “Look, if it’s money you want, I’m sure Dan—” I’m cut off before I could finish my sentence.

  “He gave me all the money I needed.” He laughs his breath stinking of smoke and alcohol. Bile rises up my esophagus. I wince at the revolting taste and swallow it back down with disgust.

  We tr
ench up the hill through the thick blanket of snow. I could barely breath and say, “There’s more. You can have it all. Call . . . Danny’s lawyer.” I wince as I feel my body temperature drop several degrees and my arm burning with such intense pain, I just want to scream. I swallow hard and blink a few times to keep the tears at bay.

  “I want you, Ariana. I’ve wanted you from the moment Danny showed me your pictures, and I’ve watched your shows. You’re beautiful. I’m in love with you.

  “You know, Danny was going to come looking for you, but I couldn’t let him do that, so I killed him. Staged it so it looked like an accident.” He chuckles. His gritty, dirty, sandpapery hand brushes against my face, making me cringe with repulsion.

  “You mur-murdered Danny?” I stutter, winded from the climb.

  “Yeah,” he says harshly against my ear, causing me to flinch. “I wasn’t about to let him touch your soft, lovely skin. He mistreated you. He didn’t deserve to have you,” he whispers and bursts out with a grating laugh that sends my heart plummeting.

  I was finally free of Danny for three years, and now I have to deal with his deranged brother I knew nothing about. A demented man, who has tormented me and hunted me down like an animal, and now, he plans to kidnap me. I feel the blood in my veins boiling over like acid, scorching a hole within the lining of my stomach. I am not going through this again.

  A powerful surge of anger erupts within me like a poisonous serpent. I shove him hard, ignoring the burning ache in my right arm. “Fuck you, you lowlife.”

  His grip tightens sending a sharp, piercing pain up my arm. I whimper, clenching my teeth in agony.

  “Now, now baby doll don’t get nasty because you will not like to see my bad side,” Alden huffs out, pulling me to his car.

  Bad side? I think to myself. This is his good side? Holy crap.

  Chapter 28

  The Hunt

  We approach a black BMW with a busted headlight, covered in a thin layer of snow. I narrow my eyes, staring down the highway between the heavy falls of snow. My heart sinks to my stomach when there is no sign of the police, not even a sound except the rustling of our clothes.

  “Your stupid little boy toy’s brother fucked up my plans,” he gasps out, expelling large amounts of a ghastly mist from his mouth.

  “What are you talking about?” I snap, holding my arm against my chest to alleviate the pulsating ache.

  “The necklace, baby doll. It was me who placed the device on your locket.” A hoarse laugh spews from his gross, hideous mouth. “I’ve been listening in on all your conversations, even you smooching with your boy toy,” he hisses out and yanks me by the hair.

  I gasp, clenching my jaw down, and my eyes begin to tear as the sharp pain shoots into my head. “That doesn’t sit well with me. Your mouth belongs to me now,” he explodes, his words coming through harsh, rapid breaths.

  I turn and spit in his face. I don’t care what he does to me. He’s going to kill me either way.

  “Bitch,” he shouts coldly, wiping his face. He twists my right arm, and I cry out as the excruciating pain spikes over me like sharp needles. Oh God, help me.

  “You stupid bitch,” he scowls, wheezing against my neck, sending me crawling into my own skin. He gives my arm another twist, making me squeal out in agony.

  I turn my face, glaring at him with rage. “You asshole,” I scream, my voice pitched high and muscles quivering.

  “Take one final look at your boy toy because it will be the last time you’ll ever lay eyes on him. You’re coming home with me. I’m looking forward to hearing you scream for mercy. Danny told me how much you were into bondage,” he says ridiculing me, yanking me against his chest in a chokehold.

  “Well, Danny lied,” I choke out, shaking, my limbs quivering from the cold. I have black spots appearing before me from the tight hold he has around my neck. I can’t breath, everything around me is dimming. I’m frightened. I can’t think fast enough to stop from getting into his car. He’s so much bigger.

  “My brother doesn’t lie. Now take one more glance at your boy toy, and then we are leaving.”

  He shoves my face toward the vehicle, and I stare at the smoking SUV with Michael trapped, injured and unconscious. Tears begin to cloud my vision, and one tiny, liquid crystal cascades down my cheek. I gaze at the beautiful flakes of stardust blanketing the ground and trees, giving hopes of heaven. My hair and clothes now covered in white dust, cold dampness seeping into my skin.

  I close my eyes, recapturing Michael’s controlling, overprotective take-charge personality. How he embarrassed me at the Polo game with a stop-your-heart, make-me-weak-in-the-knees, throbbing kiss. Our dance at the fundraiser, the trip to Sands Point, the first time we made love, and that warm, secure feeling I get just being with him.

  I’m jolted out of my thoughts when Alden wraps his burly arm around my waist, my back against his chest. “Are you listening, doll face?” he mutters out with hatred. “Did you snap a picture of him in your mind?” He pulls my hair more forcefully. I wince. “I’m going to keep you locked away. You’ll be my personal play doll.” The echo of his voice fills the air with malice, making it reek with the scent of pure evil.

  He pushes a button on his key, and the car beeps, flashing its lights on and off. I glance back down at the crumpled SUV and look away, pained with guilt and sorrow. God, please let him be all right.

  I take in a frustrating breath and wonder why the police haven’t arrived. They should have been here by now.

  My heart comes out of hiding, scowling at me. You can’t give up. Fight that no-good, loathsome bastard. That soul-sucking demon is not taking us alive. She stomps her foot down, sending a shot of adrenaline through my veins.

  She’s right, damn it. I’m stronger now than I was in the past. I’m not the mousy young girl Danny dated since high school and then married, a girl who obeyed his every command. I refuse to go anywhere with this psychotic, demented jerk without a fight. I would rather die here and let him bury me in the snow.

  My heart begins to pump fast and the adrenaline is rushing through my veins like a drug. I twist my body quickly, lifting my foot and land a hard kick into his shin with everything I have. I spin and kick him behind the knees, sending him flying on his back to smack into the snow with a loud thump. I give him one more kick, right in the balls.

  “Ahhh! You . . . bitch, you . . . ahhh . . . little bitch,” he grunts out, lying on the cold ground, groaning in a fetal position.

  “You bastard,” I shout out, and search the perimeter and find my only alternative is the woods across the road in the other direction.

  I run as fast as I can move my legs through the snow. He starts shouting obscene words at me. I glimpse back as he struggles to stand up, slipping a few times. He’s on his feet and begins to chase me. Damn, he’s fast; he must have been in track or something. I don’t think my legs will be able to outpace him.

  I pant frantically, my lungs shattering from the cold air blasting into them. I continue to run; inhaling heavily, with no destination in mind in hopes a car or the police will come down this desolate highway. The sounds of my heartbeat thrusting in my ears, harsh breaths, and feet trenching against the slippery ground are deafening.

  The vibrations of his panting grunts are so close, releasing the terror I’ve suppressed, which now explodes through every cell in my body. My arms and legs burn and sting from the biting, frigid wind and snow. I feel the destruction of frostbite over my fingertips and toes.

  I shriek as he takes hold of my hair, yanking me against his chest. “You bitch,” he roars out, and he shoves me forward, kicking me down onto the hard, snow-covered ground, face first. A sharp pain explodes through my left cheek and into my temple, sending me tumbling over the edge. I pick my head up, hands deep in the snow. I push myself off the ground with shaky arms only to collapse, feeling numb.

  He kneels down and grabs one ankle. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting off the stinging pain in my head. I’m not givin
g this psycho the satisfaction of taking me down. Not thinking, I lift my other leg up and slam my foot into his face.

  Alden cries out, muttering curses at me. “You bitch, you’re going to pay for that, Ariana.”

  “You asshole,” I yell, moving quickly to reach for his keys that one of them punctures into my hand, and I throw them far into the woods. I scurry up, slipping several times before I am able to stand and start running.

  I’m overwhelmed with joy as I get a glimpse of the colorful, bright lights up ahead. Oh, sweet Jesus, thank you. Now, if I can just keep him away from me long enough for them to get here.

  I turn and find Alden near his car, swearing loudly like a drunk in a bar. My eyes bulge out when he pulls an elongated shimmering object out of his trunk. Oh, no, a shotgun. He clips the shells into the barrel.

  “Don’t think you can escape, Ariana. I’ll capture you, baby doll. I’ll hunt you down,” he hollers out as he begins his pursuit, running after me with a limp.

  “Just keep running toward the lights, Ariana,” I mutter to myself. I gasp as I slip and fall to the ground. “Damn it,” I rush out breathlessly and scamper back up as quickly as I fell. The loud sounds of the sirens are an indication they’re getting closer. Oh, thank God. Please, keep me going. I don’t know how much longer my legs will hold up. The snow above my ankles makes it impossible to move any faster. My body aches, and the bitter wind is painfully burning my lungs.

  I freeze when the sound of a gunshot ricochets inches away from my foot, the snow exploding in the air like confetti. Damn it.

  “Ariana! I see you enjoy pumping my adrenaline,” he hollers out, sounding winded. I hope I can outlast him.

  “My sweet little baby doll. You know you can’t escape me,” his wheezes out.

  I can’t even comment on any of his craziness. The man is certifiably insane. I’m so close to crumbling. Oh, God, please help. I’m wearing down.

  “Ahhh!” I scream out as another shot rings out, and I cringe as the stinging, burning sensation of the bullet punctures my leg. I collapse and fold to the ground. “Damn it.” I rush up, scrambling off the cold, wet snow and manage to stand, hopping on one foot. A loud grunt escapes my lips. The stabbing pain from the bullet shoots up my spine with a jolt of electricity.