by Monica May
Lord, when will he stop driving? I’m not sure I want him to because I know what he will do to me when he does. As if he is a mind reader, we pull off the interstate and start down a long dark road. I saw a sign that said we’re in Biloxi, Mississippi now. After a few minutes down this road, we pull up to a shack on the side of the road. I’m sure at one time it was a house, but it looks like a rundown shed now. There were no other homes on the road so no one will even hear me scream. My legs start to quiver when the engine shuts off.
He turns to look at me and the only thing I can see is the Devil. “It’s party time, Mary.” He smirks and pulls me out of the truck through the driver’s side by the handcuffs. Once I get to my feet, he keeps a tight grasp on my arms and leads me to the shack. He flings the door open and the stench of mildew hits me. When he pushes me further into the room, I hear the door lock behind us at the same moment the light comes on. It’s a small lamp that does not throw off much light. Thank God, because from what I can see, the place is filthy. It’s a one-room shack with a bed on one side of the room and a kitchen table and chairs on the other. There’s a tiny apartment fridge and a small TV. The front windows facing the street have been blacked out with what looks like black spray paint, and the back windows are covered in old orange drapes.
The fear really sets in when Rex pushes me up against the wall and puts his lips on my neck. “This won’t be short and sweet so get used to it.” His breath is hot and disgusting on my neck. “But I need a drink first.” He pushes me down against the bed cuffing the cuffs to the bedpost. “I don't want to hear your whining voice unless I ask you to scream my name when I come, understand?”
I look around for any possible way out. A silent tear slips down my cheek as I come to the realization there is no way out. He does not trust me, and if I don't get out of these cuffs, I’m done. I sit and watch Rex drink from the whiskey bottle as he watches me with contempt.
After what seems like hours, Rex has finished more than half the bottle. He has not said one word to me the entire time, and I don't dare speak to him. He gets up from the table, walks over to me, and un-cuffs me from the bed. “Get up,” he slurs, “I said, get the fuck up.”
I get up as quickly as I can when he pushes me face first into the wall with a thud. I was able to turn my head fast enough not to break my nose, but the pain I feel in my hip startles me. When I look down to the radiating pain, I see my purse is still hanging across my chest over my hip. I almost break out into a panic when I remember I have it. He didn't even ask me about the purse or what I have in it. Thank you, Jackson for making me go to the shooting range and making me get a concealed weapons permit. And most of all, my handsome man, thank you for buying me a very small girly gun, I yell inside of my head. But how in the hell am I going to get to it? My hands have not been free since the moment I saw him in my living room.
Rex unbuttoning my jeans pulls me out of my plan. “What the fuck?” he yells as his fingers dig into my back where his tattoo once was. “You think it’s that easy? You think you can just remove me like that?”
He now has his hand fisted in my hair pulling my head back. “Oh, bitch, you are going to pay for removing that tat, you hear me?”
“I’m sorry, Rex, whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
His grasp tightens, and I don't know how my hair has not just been pulled out by the roots. My eyes are closed, but I smell the whiskey getting stronger, and his lips are on mine as he pushes his body flush against mine. His front is to my back, and I feel his erection pressing against my ass as his tongue invades my mouth.
Opening my eyes, I see he has left his gun next to the bottle of whiskey on the table across the room, yet I feel cold metal on my back and freeze in terror. He has a knife and the blade is lightly running over my lower back where he had branded me with his symbol and name. “I think I should just carve my name right here. What do you think, Mary?”
“Please don't, Rex, I love you,” I whisper. It feels so wrong, but I have to try and soften him.
He chuckles out loud, “You fucking love me, tell me another lie.”
“Rex, I do love you. I always have loved you. You don't want to do this. Someone will look for me.” That was not the right choice of words.
“Who is going to look for you, Mary?” he snarls. “You don't have anyone, or do you?” The blade moves from my back and down over my hip. The loud rip of the knife slicing thorough the seam of my jeans shakes me to the core. I don't have much time.
“Tell me, Mary, you have been giving my pussy away?”
I shake my head in denial as best I can with my face still pressed up against the wall. “No, Rex, but I have become close with the girls at the club, and they will look for me.”
He roars with laughter, “You think those skank strippers give a shit about you. If that’s the case, I have forever with you because no one is looking for you.” He spins me around with the knife at my throat. “We’re going to have a good time tonight, Mary, and when I’m tired of hearing you scream, it will all be over.” He bends his head down and licks down my neck to pause at my breasts causing me to shiver in disgust. The blade follows his tongue and slides under my breasts. I do my best to stop my body from trembling, but his eyes are so dark and hollow, I know the Rex I once knew is no longer there.
He looks up at me pulling my breasts out of my bra and over my shirt squeezing them with his palm so hard I see stars. “Oh, did that hurt, baby?” he growls, slicing across my collarbone. I gasp in pain but don't scream out knowing that he wants it to hurt. I feel blood trickle down my breasts as he shoves me down to the floor. “Sit there. I need more to drink.”
He walks away from me to the table. I had pulled my arms under my butt ignoring the slicing pain caused by the pulling of the cuffs. I rest my head on my knees to hide my hands under my legs. As I look down, I see both wrists are bleeding, but I ignore the pain and focus on trying to get them over my feet so I can reach my purse on my hip.
Rex slams the whiskey bottle down and starts to pace in the kitchen area while rambling. He looks like a mad man running his hands through his hair and pacing back and forth.
“It’s all your fault. Do you know that?” he rants, turning away from me. “Why did you have to question me in front of my bothers? Why?” he shouts with his fist landing on the wall putting a hole in the sheetrock. Lucky for me, he is still turned away. I manage to get both feet out and my hands into my lap, but he doesn’t notice. He just keeps yelling. Thank God for the dim lighting.
“Do you know how close I have been to finding you? Fucking Mardi Gras fucked it all up. I was within twenty-five feet of you at a parade but could not find you because they had so many fucking people. Then you were always heading out to a fucking swamp. Do you know there is no Goddamn cell coverage in the fucking swamp? I would lose you every time you went there,” he yells, turning back to the bottle and downing the rest.
My heart pounds so loud I’m sure he can hear it. My hands shake as I try to open the flap of my purse while keeping my eyes on Rex. I finally get my hands on the gun, and I know what I have to do. There is no other option at this point.
Just as I get my hands on the gun and fingers threaded through the trigger, he turns around. I see fear flash in his eyes for a millisecond before rage fills them. He lunges for his gun, and the rest seems to move in slow motion but too fast to think.
The first bullet goes off and the sound is deafening. I don't even hear the second or third go off, but I see the smoke trail leave the barrel and then the pain kicks in. I feel the roar of my screams but there is no sound.
Chapter 23
Jackson
Parke and I jump into his Camaro and take off. He tosses me his phone. “The red dot is her. Give me directions, and we’ll get to her, man, I promise.”
I look down at the phone as he flips on the blue lights and we take off. “Fuck, man, they’re already on I-10 headed to Mississippi almost past the last Louisiana exit.”
“Okay, about how far ahead of us are they?”
“About a fucking hour. Is this the fastest you can drive?” I yell, looking over at the speedometer. “Come on, man, this fucking car has more than that. He’s gonna kill her, you do know that? If we don't get there, he is going to kill her.”
He looks over to me, and knowing I’m right, he shifts gears pushing the car to its limits. “Man, I had no idea he was looking for Sunny or anyone for that matter. He shot up one of his brothers when a deal went bad, and they ratted him out to the FBI for drugs and weapons trafficking,” he continues with his eyes pinned on the road navigating us through the narrow New Orleans streets as we desperately try to make our way to the interstate. That’s where we’ll make up the time.
“Fuck, why didn't I know that?” He pounds his hand on the steering wheel in frustration.
“So what are we looking at when we find him? What charges is he running from? Ten years, twenty? What?” I ask.
Parke’s expression doesn’t change. We reach the interstate and he speeds up to 110 miles per hour now. He shakes his head and I know it’s bad. “Fucking life, dude, he’s looking at fucking life in the pen with no parole?”
“He’s been at it awhile and he’s selling to the Mexican Cartel.”
“Maybe he can cut a deal?”
He looks over from the driver’s seat for a split second with a look that tells me we need to drive faster. “Nobody rats out on the Mexican Cartel if they want to live. He’s looking at life with no way out.”
I clench my fist in a ball and release it trying not to combust where I sit. I’m going to kill this motherfucker if he harms one hair on her head, I swear to it.
“Check the tracker. Where are they now?” Parke asks, bringing my attention back to the phone in my hand.
“We’re gaining on them.” As the words come out of my mouth, I see the tracker move off the interstate. “They got off in Biloxi. We are about thirty minutes behind them, maybe twenty at this speed.”
The next twenty minutes are the longest twenty minutes of my life. Parke is now driving as fast as the car will take us as I watch the tracker sit still. My emotions are all over the place. I’m glad the tracker stopped but pissed as hell since he has her and is doing God knows what with her. We slow down to pull off the interstate and turn the lights off to avoid detection.
I pull my gun out and start tapping it on my leg anxious to get to her.
“Man, let me go in first. I have the badge,” Parke demands.
I look at him with rage. If this motherfucker wasn’t a friend and driving the car I’m in, I would have shot him for saying something so fucking stupid. “Fuck you, man, he’s mine,” I state without hesitation. I assume he senses I’m not going to budge so he lets it go.
The street is so fucking dark we have to slow down to a crawl on the gravel road that takes us to her location on the phone. As we pull in, my heart races when I see the black truck Carmella described. Parke stops the car and instincts kick in. We move quietly giving hand signals to each other. Approaching the house, my world stops and I know at that moment I’ve lost her when I hear three consecutive gun blasts. I take off running and kick in the front door afraid of what I will find.
The dim light hits my eyes, and I see her covered in blood. It takes me a second to realize she’s still alive and the motherfucker is lying at her feet face down. I run over to her to inspect her body. Her eyes are open, but she’s in shock with her gun still clasped in her hand.
Thank God, I showed her how to shoot and bought her this gun, thank fucking God!
“Where are you shot, Sunny?” I ask, while looking over her for wounds.
She looks up into my eyes. “You came for me?” she yells.
“Of course, I came for you. Now give me the gun, babe,” I say softly, removing the gun from her hands. I see Parke checking the scum bag for a pulse, and I look up at him. “He’s done?”
“Yeah,” he responds, pulling out his cell phone to call in the uniforms.
I pick Sunny up and lie her on the dirty bed knowing she has to be hit somewhere with the amount of blood on her. She pulls my shirt trying to pull me to her with her hands still handcuffed. “I’m okay, Jackson, hold me please.”
“I will babe, but I have to see if he hit you.”
“He never got a shot off,” she says as I pull her back to look at her face. “Thank you for teaching me to shoot. I hit my target all three times.” She’s trembling hard now, and I want to get her the fuck out of here. Her voice is shaky when her beautiful green eyes look up at me. “He kept coming at me even though I was shooting. I lifted the gun and fired the third round which hit right in between his dead evil eyes.” She motions to all the blood on her. “That’s what this is. I’m not hurt. It’s all from him,” she cries. “I want to go home, Jackson, please take me home.”
“Shhh.” I pat her head as she lays it on my chest. “As soon as the uniforms get here and take your statement, we’ll get you home.” She quiets down but her grip on my leg by her restricted hands tightens like she never wants to let go. And I don't want her to. She’s mine.
I take my shirt off to wrap it around her waist as her jeans have been ripped to shreds. It feels good to have her back in my arms. Her soft shaky hand runs over my tiger tattoo and her eyes grow wide. “She said the tiger would save me from the dragon, Jackson.”
“Who, baby?”
“The Voodoo Queen,” she says and smiles.
“Well, babe, she was wrong because you saved yourself,” I reply.
She shakes her head and brings her lips up to mine. “Without you, I would have never had a gun in my purse, much less know how to shoot it.” Her lips touch mine and she whimpers in relief as we kiss.
The paramedics finally make it here, and I have them check her out anyway. They bandage up the nasty cut on her collarbone, cut the cuffs from her wrists, and take care of the cuts the cuffs dug into her flesh.
She gives her statement and we are on our way. It didn't take long for them to realize Rex was a piece of shit, and Sunny did them a favor when all was said and done. Gotta love the good ole boys in blue down south. No one will miss him, look for him, or care he’s dead. I have to admit, it enrages me that I could not put my hands on him and make him suffer first. But I’m proud of my girl and glad she did what she had to do to stay alive. Sunny didn't realize it, but Rex did get a shot off. It just didn't hit her. The hole was right above her fucking head.
The sun shines through the curtains while I watch the rays dance on her face. I have not slept yet since getting back from Mississippi. My adrenaline is through the roof, and the thought of losing her has me so worked up I don’t want to take my eyes off her.
The events from last night play over and over in my mind. After getting home, I had bathed her and checked over her body again to ensure he didn’t touch her. I knew from training not to ask her questions right away and that fucking killed me. I wanted to know if he had touched what was mine. Did he put his filthy hands where she didn’t want him to? Once I had her cleaned up and wrapped tightly in my arms lying in bed, she had whispered to me, “He put his hands and mouth on me, but he didn’t get a chance to do what he wanted to me, Jackson.”
“Shh, it’s okay, babe, we don’t need to go over this now.”
Turning in my arms, she kissed my tattoo. “I just want to let you know I’m still yours and he didn’t …”
I put my finger on her lips. “It doesn’t matter what he did. I love you no matter what.”
She kissed my finger, sucking it into her mouth and releasing when I growled, “Then make love to me, Jackson, I need to feel you still want me. That his hands on me don’t matter because I didn’t want them there.”
In one swift move, I had her on her back and I hovered over her with my hips positioned in between her legs. “Don’t for one second ever think I don’t want you. I don’t only want you, I NEED you,” I stressed. “Without you, my world is nothing, I can�
�t breathe without you.”
I saw the joy in her eyes hearing my words. Without asking permission, I pushed into her steady and hard watching her beautiful eyes roll back in her head as she arched her back off the bed.
“Oh, Jackson, please?”
“Please what, babe, tell me what you need.”
She opened her eyes and dug her nails into my ass pulling me toward her. “I need you to not be gentle. I want to feel your passion. I want to know I’m alive.”
I gave her what she needed pounding into her harder and feeling her pussy tighten around my cock with every push. I fucking love this woman and I don’t want to ever be without her. I heard her breath quicken and felt her clenching around me she was so close. I slowed down but pulled all the way out before pushing back in.
“Oh, Jackson,” she moaned.
“Babe, I love when you moan my name.”
I leaned down and sucked up her neck until I reached her ear while still pushing slow, hard, long thrusts in and out of her warm wet pussy. Reaching up, I found her nipple and twisted it lightly just enough to tease her but not push her over. Looking down at her, I said, “Marry me, Sunny, I don’t want to ever be without you again.”
A smile spread across her face while a tear slipped down her face but she didn’t speak. I tightened my grip on her nipple as I saw her retreating into her head. She lifted her hands and framed my face. “I don’t want to ever be without you either, Jackson. Tell me when and where, and I would be honored to marry you.”
I smashed my lips onto her and lost control of my slow pace and pushed her into bliss falling right along with her.
As the night replays in my mind, she opens her eyes and smiles at me watching her.
“Good morning, handsome,” she says, making my dick twitch again.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
She snuggles her glorious naked body against mine letting her hand fall to my cock and rubbing it up and down. After just a few strokes, I’m as hard as steel wanting her again. Before I can move, she is on top of me looking down at me.