by Peak, Renna
His lips pressed against the tender flesh of my neck again. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, Jenna. I’ve waited so long. I love you, too, baby.” He swept my hair away and placed a long kiss on my shoulder, his arms squeezing my waist. “I’m so sorry I have to do this.”
I cried out when something stung the side of my arm. It was like an insect took a chunk out of my skin.
“I’m sorry, baby. It’ll help you sleep.”
I shook my head against his chest. “I don’t want to sleep anymore.”
“I know, baby. It’ll all be over soon.”
9
My head throbbed and it was hard to open my eyes. Had I really had that much to drink last night? I remembered the glass of wine, and part of a Long Island. I couldn’t remember what happened after that. There was nothing I could remember after the cocktail, just blackness. Daniel was at the club and then there was… nothing. It was like the whole night had been wiped from my memory.
I forced my heavy lids open and saw that I wasn’t in my room at home. I was on a bed and there was a table against the wall, under a window where sunshine streamed through the closed blinds. It was morning, judging by the angle of the light, or maybe evening if I had slept all day.
I tried to raise my arms to stretch and found I couldn’t. I looked down, my heart racing in my chest. My hands were zip-tied together, then tied again to my ankles. My knees were pressed against my chest in an awkward fetal position. I tried to scream, but only a muted sound came from my mouth. There was something covering it; duct tape, maybe. I looked around the room, trying to see if there was something, anything, that might be able to help me to remove my bonds. But it was empty. There was nothing but the bed and the table.
I rolled off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud, feeling a bruise already starting to form on my hip where I landed. Pain didn’t matter, though; I had to get to that door. I tried to stretch out my legs, which was not comfortable, but not really painful, either. It was awkward and weird, having my hands tied like that to my ankles, my body almost in a jackknife. I suddenly was thankful that Mel had dragged me to all those yoga sessions. It probably would have hurt like hell to be stretched out like that if I wasn’t at least a little bit flexible. I tried to wiggle my way over to the door, still not sure how I’d get it open if I did manage to get there. I forced myself to bounce and looked down at my dress that was now hiked around my waist.
My panties were gone.
I screeched against the tape covering my mouth, then tried to calm myself. I couldn’t let myself get hysterical; I just needed to get to that door. Someone had to help me. Someone would recognize me, maybe, take pity on my sorry, naked ass. Something inside of me told me that I was on my own, that I was the only person who could help myself. I didn’t even know where I was—inside some house? I couldn’t tell.
I was almost to the door when it opened on its own. Daniel stood in the doorway, a syringe in his hand.
He shook his head, looking down at me. There was definitely a look of pity on his face, but I knew somewhere inside of me that he wasn’t there to help. “Damn it, Jenna, I didn’t want to have to give you any more of this.”
* * *
I barely made it on the red eye to Baltimore. Thank God I was in L.A. and there were red eye flights to almost everywhere on earth. It was the only positive thing I could think of, and I was trying hard to stay positive. Jen was in trouble and I… I hurt. I didn’t want to admit it, but I hurt. There was the physical pain, sure. But knowing what was going to happen to her if I didn’t make it in time… It made my heart ache in my chest, just adding to the pain that was already pulsing through me.
I should have tried to sleep, give myself a little bit more of the energy that I knew I would need as soon as we landed. Another hour on this damned airplane. I should have just tried to book a private jet; I was sure that was what Daniel had done. God, I couldn’t believe I had fallen for it. I left her alone and vulnerable. Anything that happened would be my fault. Christ, if he hurt her, I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions.
I couldn’t let myself think about it. I was on the plane there now and I knew where she would be. He was too dumb not to take her to the same safe house. Daniel would take her there because he thought I was stuck in the hospital with tubes sticking out of every orifice of my body, not that that hadn’t been true up until a few hours ago.
“I like your shirt.” The kid sitting next to me on the plane was looking up at me with big eyes. His mother, I assumed, was asleep next to him.
I pulled my suit jacket closed, trying to hide the damned Mickey Mouse head. Every store that sold clothes at LAX had been closed that late at night, and the only newspaper stand that was still open only had Disney t-shirts for sale, nothing without some Disney character on it. I had turned the shirt inside out, but it was still pretty obvious what was on it.
I looked down at the kid. He was only four or five with brown hair, almost the same color as Jen’s. “Thanks, kid.”
“My name’s Mason. What’s yours?” He looked up at me with his big, blue eyes.
I felt a pang in my stomach. He could be my kid. Our kid, mine and Jen’s. I looked down at him again. I could see it, that he looked like a baby we would make together. He looked just like her. Jesus Christ, where was this coming from? I must have been delusional from the pain, from being off the pain medication that had been dripping into my veins for the past three days. “My name is Brandon. Good to meet you.”
“My mom took me to Disneyland yesterday. Mickey Mouse is my favorite.” He grinned up at me.
“Yeah? Mine, too.” I thought I hated kids, but this one wasn’t so bad. “What are you going to do in Baltimore?” I forced a smile to my face, trying to pretend like my belly didn’t hurt like a motherfucker.
He frowned. “I have to see Pat. My mom said.”
I nodded. The plane bounced and another bolt of pain shot down the right side of my abdomen. I should have saved the pills I’d been throwing out; they would have come in handy for this little trip. “Who’s Pat?”
“He’s my father. My mom says I have to call him Pat.”
I held onto my side after the plane bounced again. I groaned a little when it happened again a few seconds later. “He doesn’t like you calling him dad?”
The kid shrugged and went back to reading the book in his lap.
I wasn’t sure what it was about him that made me want to engage him in conversation. I had never liked kids, something about them just drove me a little crazy. “What are you reading?”
“Encyclopedia Brown. Do you know it?”
I nodded, holding my side a little tighter. “Yeah, I loved those books when I was a kid.” But I had been way older when I read them, older than him, anyway. There was no way this kid was old enough to be reading those books. “How old are you?”
“Four. My mom says I should be reading something harder, but I like mysteries.”
I nodded again. “You’re four and you’re reading chapter books?” Maybe I really was having a delusion. I didn’t even know anymore. I only knew four-year-old kids didn’t read Encyclopedia Brown.
“My mom said I should be reading Mark Twain. I tried to read Huckleberry Finn a few weeks ago, but I didn’t like it.”
“I never liked it much, either. You’re four, though. I couldn’t even read when I was four.”
“My sister read when she was two. That’s what Pat said, so my mom wants me to read hard stuff.”
The pain was getting worse. Leaving the hospital was a stupid idea, at least without taking some kind of pain medication first. I was determined to keep this conversation going for as long as possible, for a distraction if nothing else. “How old is she now?”
“I don’t know. She’s a grown up. She lives in San Francisco.”
“Oh, yeah? I live there, too. Maybe we’re neighbors.” God damn it, the pain was bad, worse than I could remember it having been in the past three days. The adrenalin
e would kick in when we landed and it wouldn’t hurt so much. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
“San Francisco is a really big city, so you probably don’t know her.” He looked back down at his book. “I don’t know anyone there except for her. And Melissa. She lived there, too, but now she lives by me and my mom. She calls me a brat.”
“Are you a brat?” I winced when we hit a little turbulence again. I had to keep this conversation going. I tried hard not to groan when we hit the next bump.
“I don’t think so. I don’t try to be. My mom says my sister is, though. She showed me her picture.”
“Oh, maybe she is, then, if your mom said. What’s your sister’s name?” My vision was starting to cloud from the pain. This idiotic conversation was all that was keeping me conscious. I couldn’t pass out—they’d take me to the hospital when we landed, and I had to get to her before I went back to another hospital. I had to make sure she was safe.
“Jenna. She’s going to give me piano lessons, but I can’t tell her she’s my sister.”
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This had to be a delusion, a hallucination. I bolted up in my chair, my vision clear again from the shock of what the kid had just said. “Jenna Davis is your sister?”
He looked up at me with his big, blue eyes, and I understood why they looked familiar. They were hers. “You know her?”
I nodded. I pinched my leg and tried to wake myself up. I had to be asleep, because there was no way this could be real. I would have known about this. I’d been following Patrick Davis’ every move for as long as I could remember. There was no way this little tidbit of information would have gotten past me. “Your father is Patrick Davis? The senator?”
The kid nodded, affirming the answer to my question. “I’m not supposed to say.”
Jesus Christ. This changed everything.
10
He hadn’t even changed the code on the door, the dumbass. I shook my head, it was almost unbelievable how amazing my luck had been. The door swung open, and there she was, lying asleep on the bed. How many times had I been in this safe house? I couldn’t even remember, but I knew I had never used it to kidnap anyone. I went back out into the kitchen and found a steak knife to cut her zip ties. I couldn’t believe he had tied her up like that. It was inhumane, even for someone you didn’t love. There was no way he loved her, not the way I did.
I went back to the room and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully clipping the plastic from her wrists. She groaned into the silver duct tape that covered her mouth. I quickly cut the ties from her ankles and tried to gently pull the tape from her mouth. It had to hurt like a son of a bitch, and I didn’t want to do it too fast.
She shook her head, and I reached down to caress her cheek. God, she was so beautiful. How had I gotten her into this mess?
Her body bucked when I pulled the last of the tape from her mouth. How could he have done that to her sweet lips? He couldn’t really love her. He said the words, but his actions… I couldn’t have done that to her, no matter what the stakes were.
I had to cover her mouth when she started to scream. I hated doing it; I knew it would scare her, but I couldn’t take the risk of the bitch in the living room waking up. I had shot the woman full of whatever had been in the syringe that was laying on the table, but I had no idea what was in it or how long it would last. I shook my head again at what an amateur Daniel was. You didn’t just leave that shit lying on a table. And you didn’t not change the password to the safe house alarm. What the fuck was he thinking? Any one of us could have walked in here…
“Shh. Jen, sweetheart, it’s me. Open your eyes.” I pulled my hand away from her mouth after her screaming stopped.
Her brow furrowed, her forehead creasing. “Brandon?”
“I’m here. Open your eyes. We need to get out of here.” I stroked her face; her skin was so soft under the tips of my fingers. I never thought I’d touch her again, and there she was, right in front of me. Letting me touch her. I could have died right then and it would have all been worth it.
“I can’t. Too tired. Lay with me.” Her head lolled back into the bed.
“Sweetheart, you need to get up. I’d carry you…” Something was wrong with my insides, I could feel it. If I lifted her up, I’d probably kill myself. “Jen, sweetheart, you have to stand up. I’ll try to hold you up. There’s a car waiting for us outside. We need to go…”
Her eyes flicked open for a moment, then closed again just as quickly. “Mickey Mouse?”
I chuckled. “It was the only thing I could find.”
“Take me to Disneyland when we get home.”
I grinned. “I’ll take you anywhere you want. I love you so much, Jen. Right now, though, you need to open your eyes.”
She shook her head. “Can’t. Just hold me for a little while.”
“Jen, I will hold you for the rest of my life, but right now, you need to stand up. I can’t lift you. Please.” I pulled on her arms to try to lift her up, pain searing through my body. Her body rose only a few inches off the bed. How much of that shit had he given her? Or was I just too weak to even lift her a few inches?
Her head rolled back again, clearly too heavy for her to hold up. “Lay with me. I love you.”
Just hearing those words come from her sweet lips gave me strength I didn’t know I had. I lifted her body into my arms and carried her outside. My knees buckled as soon as we were outside the front door. I turned my body so she’d fall on top of me and not onto the ground, but not before I felt something tear inside of me, ripping through me. A searing bolt of fire tore through the right side of my body. It was the last thing I remembered.
* * *
The jolt of hitting the ground woke me up. I hadn’t been dreaming; Brandon really was there, lying on the ground next to me. He’d broken my fall and he was covered in blood. I didn’t know where it was coming from—his head looked fine, but his shirt and jacket were soaked. He really was wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt—I had been sure that was part of a dream. A weird part, but it didn’t seem like it could be real.
I looked over my shoulder, and just like he said, there was a car there waiting. It was real, at least I prayed it was. He really had come to rescue me, but now, I needed to rescue him.
I tried to ignore my heart racing in my chest. I grabbed him under his armpits and dragged him to the car. The driver opened the door and I looked up at him. “You have to get us to a hospital.”
The guy shook his head. “I have specific orders to get you to an address in Virginia. The traffic is terrible this time of the morning, so we need to get going.”
“Help me get him in the car. We can drop him off, then you can take me wherever he said he wanted me to go. Okay?” My hands shook as I pulled at Brandon’s lifeless body.
The guy lifted Brandon’s legs and we pulled him into the back of the sedan. I crawled into the back seat and lifted his head to rest on my lap.
The car pulled out onto one of the main streets and I saw where we were. Not in Virginia. In Maryland. Baltimore. Not far from where I had once lived with Daniel. Christ, how had I gotten here? I didn’t remember anything, other than waking up for a few minutes this morning and feeling something bite my arm… I looked down at my shoulder and saw three small holes. Daniel had injected me with something. I hadn’t been drunk, I had been drugged. It was like a nightmare, something that only happened in movies. “The one night I needed a body guard…” I felt dizzy, spots floating in front of my eyes.
“Ma’am?” The driver must have heard what I said.
I tried to calm my rapid breaths. “He’s bleeding all over your car. We need to get to a hospital right now.”
The driver rattled off an address in Alexandria. My father’s office. My mind raced. He wanted to get me to Krystal, his sister, who was probably the only person who could help us. I shook my head. “The nearest hospital, please. Alexandria is at least a two-hour drive from here. He won’t make it.” I lifted up
his shirt and tried to wipe his blood away with the hem of it. There was so much, and I couldn’t see where it was coming from. “Hurry. He’s bleeding a lot.”
“Lady, he told me no matter what you said, to get you to Alexandria first.”
“I’ll pay you triple what he said he’d give you. Get us to a hospital. It doesn’t matter which one. We just need to get him there now.” I wished I had paid more attention in first aid class. I had never seen so much blood before, and he was out, maybe already dead. My chest throbbed and I felt his neck for a pulse. Thank God, it was there; I found it. He wasn’t dead, just as pale as I had ever seen a person. “Just hurry. I’ll go wherever he wanted me to go, but we need to get him to a hospital first.”
“Fine. You better pay me extra for the cleaning bill, too.”
“Whatever you want. Just hurry.”
11
My eyes were swollen and painful. I couldn’t remember ever having cried this much, not even after Daniel died. I just didn’t want Brandon to die. I could forgive him for everything he had done; it all seemed so silly now, anyway. He just couldn’t die.
I chewed on my fingernail and looked over at Krystal, who was sitting on the couch across from me in the tiny family waiting room. We hadn’t heard from anyone in hours. I could only hope that not hearing anything was good news, and that it meant he hadn’t died in surgery like they said he probably would.
Krystal glanced up at me before turning the page of the celebrity magazine she had been reading. She hadn’t said much to me; the look on her face told me she was just as worried about him as I was. She was his older sister—she was probably more worried.
The ticking of the clock on the wall was driving me insane. How many of those ticks had I heard since we had been there? Thousands, at least. I stared down at the floor, chewing again at my thumb nail.