He returns to my breast and starts yanking my panties down my legs. “Ahhh yes, now this is what I’m talkin’ about. I’m going to show you who you belong to.”
He brings his hands to the front of his jeans and starts unbuckling his belt as tears leave my eyes, roll down my temples, and into my hair.
I close my eyes, and picture the face of the person I love.
24.
DEVIL’S DESTRUCTION
Luke
“Detective?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. He will be here shortly,” Officer Phish explains.
“Okay, well until then, can I see the damage to the kitchen?”
“Of course,” Officer Knight answers, “Follow me.”
I follow the officers into the kitchen and see the extent of the damage. One side of the kitchen where the oven and cupboards are located is completely destroyed. The other side, where the refrigerator and sink are looks completely untouched. There is, however, wall and ceiling damage from the smoke, though it is minimal. The worst part is the water damage caused by the firemen extinguishing the blaze. I’m standing in a half inch of water around the whole room and all the appliances and walls are just dripping. In some places, water is even falling from the ceiling, splashing onto people’s heads.
Some of the small kitchen appliances on the counter by the stove, where the fire was obviously located are melted, but those are all easily replaceable. I look around the room and see one of the windows has a hole in it. I’m assuming the firemen must have busted it to get water into the kitchen. Or perhaps the fire caused it from the pressure, but that seems unrealistic as the oven is across the room from the window.
I run my hand through my hair and let out a sigh. I can’t believe I have to deal with this right now. I would much rather be with my girl, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I turn to the Officers, “I’m going to go to my office and call my insurance agent to get the ball rolling on the claim for this. Do you know how this happened yet?”
“When Detective Goldridge gets here, we will come to your office to discuss that.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I head out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my office. Already I’m counting off a list in my mind of all the things I need to do in order to handle this calamity. Once I’m at my desk, I pick up the phone and call Olivia so I can let her know that this could take a while. It goes straight to voicemail, so I leave her a message, “Hi, love, I’m calling like I promised. The fire was contained to the kitchen, fortunately. It is a mess, but honestly, it could have been a lot worse. It looks like I’m going to be tied up here for a bit. I need to call the insurance company and get the claim started and I will probably need to close the club for a few days, so I need to call the staff. Anyway, I love you. I will be back there as soon as I can.”
“Sir?”
I look up and see Mia in the doorway, “Do you want me to get the insurance agency on the phone for you, or call the staff?”
“No, thanks, I can do those things, but what you can do for me is to make a sign and put it on the door explaining why we will be closed for a few days. Also, grab a paper and pen and make a list of the small appliances in the kitchen that will need to be replaced. Then, give Chuck a call and tell him I want him to replace them all.”
“Okay, will do.”
When Mia closes the door behind her, I pick up the phone and call my insurance agent to fill him in on the situation here and get the ball rolling for the claim submission. Then, I pull up the staff list on my computer and start making calls.
"Hi Jeffrey, this is Luke Easton from Zero Gravity calling to let you know that the club will be closed for a few days due to a fire. Your pay will be compensated as usual for the days you were scheduled to work during this time, and Brian or I will give you a call when we are once again open for business.” I listen to Jeffrey on the other end, “No, thank you for asking, but there is nothing you can do right now. I will be in touch…thanks. Bye.”
I make it through the list and am about to call my dad to give him a heads up about what’s going on when there is a knock at my door.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Mia, it’s fine, come on in.”
“Actually sir, Detective Goldridge is here to see you.”
“Okay sure, send him in.”
Officers Phish and Knight enter first with a man who must be Detective Goldridge following behind them. He’s dressed in a black suit and blue tie and must be in his early fifties. He’s got salt and pepper hair with the salt primarily at his temples. His eyes are friendly, but his face is weathered and I can’t help but wonder what kind of toll his job has taken on him.
Officer Phish gestures towards Detective Goldridge, “Detective, this is Luke Easton,” he swings his hand back towards me, “Mr. Easton, this is Detective Goldridge.”
I shake the Detective’s hand and get a firm shake in response, “Hi, Detective Goldridge, I would like to say nice to meet you, but honestly…”
A small smile curls at the edges of his mouth, “No, I understand completely. I’m sorry about the fire in your club.”
I nod my thanks, “So, Detective. The Officers told me you would explain what is going on once you arrived here.”
“Yes, they are correct, but first I have a few questions for you.”
“Okay.” I furrow my brow in confusion. I really don’t understand what is going on.
“Do you have any enemies, Mr. Easton?”
I know my brows have hit my hairline, “Enemies?”
“Yes. Do you know anyone that would want to cause harm to your place of business, Mr. Easton?” Detective Goldridge has a pad of paper in his hand and a pen that he pulls out of his suit jacket pocket.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
He actually has the nerve to sigh at me. It isn’t my fault no one has filled me in on what’s happening here. “The fire in your kitchen was not an accident.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, in fact, Mr. Easton, we believe it was arson.”
I stand in outrage, “What?! Why do you think that it was arson?”
“Please have a seat, Mr. Easton,” I do as I’m told, but feel anger burn through my veins. He waits for a moment for me to collect myself, but I’m honestly just good at disguising my feelings, apparently, because I’m anything but fine, “did you see the hole in the window of your kitchen?”
“Yes, I thought it was caused by the firemen needing to get water into the room to put out the fire.”
“No.”
“No?” I’m starting to get irritated with Detective-- man of few words-- Goldridge.
“No. A bottle that contained a gasoline soaked rag that was lit on fire was thrown through the window. You are very lucky that the damage wasn’t more extensive.”
I vaguely realize Officer Knight is speaking into his radio, but my mind is too busy reeling by what Goldridge has told me that I don’t have a clue what he’s saying. A feeling of dread makes my stomach fall, but I feel almost disconnected with this news that I’m not able to pinpoint why I’m feeling this way.
As if he hasn’t just dropped a bomb in my lap, Goldridge continues with his questioning, “So again, Mr. Easton, why would someone want to do this to your place of business?”
Before I can answer, an officer knocks and comes into the room and hands Officer Knight a bag. “This is the bottle,” Knight shows me the bag, which contains pieces of what appear to be a green bottle. “It’s been dusted for prints and they are running them right now.”
“Okay.”
Goldridge gets my attention again, “In the meantime, as I’ve asked, can you think of anyone that would want to do harm to your place of business.”
And now, the feeling of dread drops on me again like a piano and I stand up with the feeling, “Oh God. Olivia.” I grab the phone out of my pocket and start calling her cell phone again.
&nbs
p; Ring……. Ring……..
“Olivia? What do you mean?” Goldridge is staring at me intently.
“Olivia Brooks is my girlfriend. The only person that would have interest in doing me any harm is Deacon Brooks.”
Ring…. Ring……
I stare at him, waiting for recognition to come over his face. Olivia’s kidnapping was all over the news. He would have to have been on a deserted island somewhere to not have heard about it. I can tell the moment he makes the connection.
“Brooks,” Goldridge looks at the ceiling as if it holds all the answers, “The girl who was kidnapped and her abductor hasn’t been found.”
Ring…. Ring….
“She’s not answering, I have to go.”
I start to make my way to my office door until Detective Goldridge makes the mistake of getting in my way. “Hold on there a second, Mr. Easton. What’s the hurry?”
I look at him in pure disbelief, “The hurry is that if Deacon threw the bottle into my club, he did it to distract me, which means Olivia could be in danger right now.”
I move around him and open the door, he places a hand on my shoulder trying to stop me again. I spin around. “Look, you can try to hold me here with your fucking questions, but I’m telling you right now, it isn’t going to work. That’s my girl that could be in danger and nothing and no one is going to keep me from getting to her right now to make sure she is okay.”
“I understand. Just hear me out a second, have you spoken to Olivia since you’ve been here?”
“No, I tried calling earlier, but she didn’t answer.” The unease takes me over and I can’t stand it any longer. “Look, we’re done here. I need to go make sure she’s okay.”
“Alright, we are coming with you.”
I don’t even wait for them. I’m down the stairs, to my car and taking off as I hear someone, Goldridge maybe, yell to me to slow down because they need to follow.
I probably should have slowed down or let them give me a police escort, but I don’t even think about it. My only thought is to get there and make sure she is okay. Of course, I break all kinds of speed laws on my way there, but I couldn’t care less.
I don’t bother with the underground garage, I just pull straight up to the front of the building. The concierge runs out to me as he sees me park crookedly, “Sir, you can’t park there.”
I throw the keys at him, “Then tow it.”
I’m lucky and the elevator opens just as I get there. I debate for just a minute if I should take the elevator or the stairs but then I throw my body quickly into the elevator and stab at the button. It would be faster to take it up then to run up several flights of stairs. I need to save my energy for whatever may meet me when I walk into the door.
Each and every floor feels like an eternity. I find that I’m bouncing from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching my hands. My heart feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. I’m scared. So fucking scared. I can’t lose her again. I would probably die. That’s not being dramatic. If he got to her and she was taken, again, there is no one to blame but me. No one.
My breathing is out of control by the time the elevator opens onto her floor. I approach her door slowly and almost stop breathing all together when I see it’s ajar. I push it open slowly, trying to be quiet not to startle him in case he is still in the condo.
I walk through the entryway and walk by the kitchen. On my way through I see a bunch of food that was dropped on the floor. The sight makes my heart stop. I run now and what I see, when I reach Olivia’s bedroom, makes me stop cold.
25.
VENGEFUL RESCUE
Olivia
Deacon picks me up and carries me into my bedroom. It is obvious that his goal is to place me in bed to finish his act, but the thought of being with him in the nearly sacred place where I share my love with Luke is unbearable and makes me go crazy. I start wiggling like a possessed woman in his arms, screaming as much as I can with the tape over my mouth. Resigned and angry, he rolls me out of his arms and drops me on the floor. His apparent haste to have his way with me wins out over the need for a bed. He doesn’t try putting me there again, and makes it obvious that any place will do.
Suddenly, everything feels like it is happening in slow motion. He rips my chemise the rest of the way down my body. The tear of the fabric sounds loud in my ears, resounding off the walls. My panties are long gone too. He rips them off when he realizes he can’t slide them the rest of the way down my legs with the duct tape around my ankles. I try to bend my good leg’s knee to get him in the balls, to no avail. The action only angers him and he pulls my hair and screams in my face for me to stop.
He takes his shirt off and I turn my head to the side while he undoes his buttons one by one. When he presses his skin to mine, I have to swallow the vomit I feel rise in my throat over and over, my throat burns with the effort. With my mouth taped, I need to force it back down. I do not want to drown in my own vomit. Not at all the way I want to die. But then again, perhaps it would be better than enduring this.
The sound of my breath whistles loudly out of my nose and comes in scared pants. I try to calm my mind and focus on something else. I beg my mind to disconnect from my body, finding another place to go, a happy place, but it’s difficult. He keeps whispering in my ear how much he wants me, and how he knows I want him too. He keeps running his lips all over my body. Once he goes below my waist, I am finally able to check out completely. I am looking to the side, towards the door and I keep hoping and praying I see someone standing there. “Please help me. Please help me,” a repeated mantra and prayer in my head.
He’s at his pants again and when I feel his hardness touch the side of my hip, I instinctively squeeze my legs together as hard as I can. Tears run unabashed down my face and I’ve given up trying to beg and plead through the confines of the tape on my mouth. It doesn’t matter anyway, so I keep up the silent plea in my mind instead.
He tries to push my knees apart, “Come on baby, this is going to feel so good.”
How crazed he is. I have no idea how much time he’s been in the condo now – time is standing still and it feels like hours; I really have no idea. Isn’t he afraid of getting caught? Or is his need to power, to claim me, more important? Is he so cocky that the idea of capture doesn’t even faze him because he thinks he’s invincible? I don’t know.
He gives up trying to pull my knees apart and I know he doesn’t want to take the tape off from around my ankles, so he flips me over onto my stomach. My hands are trapped under my body, and it pushes my ass up and towards him. He takes the opportunity to slap it. Hard. Then he rubs his hands all over it as if trying to rub the pain away.
He pulls my hips up and I try to check out again, once again staring at the doorway. My heart bleeds for Luke. Not just because I would give anything for him to appear at the door, though I do not want him to see me or to be seen by him in this lunatic’s crazed act. More than anything, I need and want my knight to rescue me, but I worry that should he return, and I am once again gone, it will break him. I know him. He will never forgive himself for leaving today, and I don’t want that for him.
I wish for so many things. I wish for the life with him I always dreamed of - the one with the amazing house, dog, rocking chairs, and of course, the children. I want a picture perfect, picket fence life with him. A future and a purpose. I know we would be so happy together, and live out all of our pretty little dreams. We would make them a reality. His and mine, we would make them one. We would make them ours.
My wishes become so vivid it’s like I see him standing in the doorway looking at me. I try to smile at my vision of him, but when his gorgeous face becomes twisted in disbelief and pain, I realize he isn’t just my imagination. My dream Luke would never look so sad, so furious.
Oh God, it’s him! Really him! For the first time since Deacon arrived, I feel hope bloom in my chest. I make a sound behind the tape. I feel relief, fear, embarrassment, and shame all at the same ti
me. I hate that he is seeing me like this, and I don’t want Luke to get hurt trying to take matters into his own hands. But again, I know him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
I don’t think Deacon has a clue he’s here because he has not paused at all, completely focused on his task. That is until an almost inhumane roar catches his attention. I watch him pause, experience a moment of inquiry, and then surprise as Luke quickly lifts him off of me. Their bodies collide with a loud slap and they go crashing into my dresser, knocking it aside, tipping it nearly over and causing items to crash to the floor. The blow they take doesn’t seem to faze either Deacon or Luke, as they go rolling across the floor.
As they roll out of my sight, next to my bed, with great exertion, I roll first onto my back and then on to my side. While the movement hurts like a bitch, I finally have Luke within my sight.
“YOUR ARE A SICK FUCK! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” Luke screams and Deacon is unable to even mutter a word. Luke is enraged. Deacon is about to feel the full wrath of a man possessed; possessed with hatred for the person who dared to abuse and hurt the love of his life. And he deserves everything he’s about to get.
Surprise works to Luke’s advantage. He’s bleeding from his temple, but as they stop rolling, Luke manages to take control. He seizes Deacon by the throat as he positions himself to sit astride him. He stops mid move and forcefully punches Deacon in the crotch. If not for this tape over my mouth, I would be cheering Luke on. I realize that sometime in the process of grabbing Deacon, Luke has thrown the comforter toward me and that it partially covers my exposed body.
Deacon turns to the side and vomits from the pain of the punches. This also brings me complete satisfaction. The vomiting doesn’t even faze Luke. He uses Deacon’s vomiting to his advantage, and takes the time to sit on top of Deacon’s chest and punches him in the face. Over and over and over, again. Deacon is bleeding from his nose, from his eyes, from his mouth. His whole face is covered in it. But Luke doesn’t stop, even when Deacon gets in a good hit of his own, it doesn’t matter. Luke is a machine. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction as Luke lands each blow.
Pretty Little Dreams Page 21