“Oh, you want to play with me, huh, Josephine?” His eyes bulge like a rabid dog as his hand travels to his belt. My eyes widen with fear as he removes it and chucks it onto the bed. Then he continues to his zipper. “Let’s see what you’ll do when I punish you by taking away your innocence. What would your darling Julian say when he finds out that his little princess lost her virginity to his English teacher in a dirty old mattress?”
Hot tears start pouring as I cry. I tug on my handcuffs and feel the cabinet wobble. I sob because I’d rather die this painful death than have this monster rape me. But he stands above me as he undress to his boxer briefs. I try to move my legs, but they’re still bound. “Don’t do this, please.”
He kneels at the foot of the mattress and places his hands on the bonds around my ankles. “You should’ve thought about that before you acted up.”
Suddenly, an icy breeze hits me. I glance at Brian to check if he noticed that uncharacteristic wind in a windowless room, but he’s too busy untying the knots. My breath hitches when I see Alexa standing there. My vision blurs for a moment and I curse. The drug is taking effect. Maybe I’m imagining her, too.
The sudden sensation of my legs moving surprises me. My free ankles give me the biggest sense of relief. But Brian moves forward and that ugly, hungry look is back. I had planned on kicking him, but what good would that do? Even if I disarm him, these handcuffs still imprison me and will only force him to unleash more violence towards me.
He sees my grief-stricken face and softens his gaze. “No worries, my love. You just might like it. It’ll be better than your first time with Julian.”
Anger heats inside me. I don’t want my first time to come from a sexual assault, and the nerve of him to think that violating a woman could ever be sexually satisfying for her. “You’re missing the point here, asshole.”
He ignores me as he takes my ankles and spreads my legs apart. Suddenly, my fury brings back my drive for self-preservation. Even though it won’t save me, and I will probably end up getting killed, I decide to go through with my plan, just to make it harder for him to claim the prize. At least, I’ll die knowing I didn’t lose this battle without a fight. But to execute this correctly, I have to act with great precision. And timing is key.
He slides in between my legs and crawls towards me. Once he positions himself above my hip, he places his fingers on the button of my jeans. I bite my lip in anticipation. As he concentrates on pulling my pants off me, his forehead becomes in line with my crotch. I take a deep breath. It’s now or never. In a blink of an eye, I swing my right leg up and use it to kick down his shoulders. He snaps his head up in surprise, but I throw my shank over his neck and quickly do the same with the other, closing them at the ankles.
“What the fuck!” He cries as he attempts to dislodge my lower body off him.
But I lock my legs at the point behind the knees, trapping him between my thighs. He squirms and yells expletives, but he can’t release himself out of my grip. I roll my hips and rotate my limbs to the left, twisting his body and bringing his head along with me. Then, I squeeze his carotid arteries in a classic triangle choke hold. This is one of my best moves, and my MMA coach would’ve been proud. If I keep this up for a few more minutes, this move can put him to sleep—that’s assuming I don’t cause permanent brain damage from the lack of oxygen.
He turns red and makes gagging noises from being strangled by my strong thighs. He can’t talk anymore. This is usually the moment when my opponent taps my leg to tap out, except I have no intention of releasing him. I plan to continue until he knocks out. I sneer at him. “Rookie mistake, Brian. If you had focused on the task instead of letting your dick take over, you wouldn’t have been in this predicament.” I squeeze my thighs tighter. “It’s time to sleep, my love. One, two, three.” As I count, I watch his eyes close. Finally, he stops moving and loses consciousness. His body slumps and his face drops to my hip. “Sweet dreams, motherfucker.”
I drop back—my breath ragged from the exhaustion. I roll him off the mattress, and he lands on the floor with a thud. I close my eyes as the room spins. I know that in a few minutes, I’m going to knock out as well. The sheer satisfaction of what I did, despite knowing what my fate will be, makes me smile. When he wakes up, I resign to the fact that he will murder me in my sleep. But, at least, I went down fighting.
Meanwhile, the effects of the drug take over in full force, and I’m overcome with nausea. I gag and turn to the side to puke. I watch in disgust as pools of vomit stain the floor. When I finish, I let myself fall to the bed with a thud. I feel a weird yet familiar sensation. Alexa is standing at the foot of the mattress. I sigh. “If you are here to come for me, you’re a little too early, girl. I’m not dead, yet.”
She does nothing and continues to stare. I close my eyes as another wave of nausea hits me. This time, it passes, and I don’t puke. But I am sleepy, and I yawn. I might as well get a good sleep out of this.
“Goodnight, world.”
Chapter 68
Julian
The abandoned cabin sits in the middle of the Mission Forest, and it reminds me of a prop from a horror film. It’s as dilapidated as I remember, and it still gives me the creeps. I hear a low whistle from Dee and a gulp from Brandon.
“Please tell me this isn’t where he hostages your girlfriend,” said Bianca.
“B! Shut up!” said Dee.
I glance at my rear-view mirror and see the cop cars, the SWAT team and the paramedics following behind me. Thank god for that.
Jordan parks his truck near the cabin, and I check out the environment. I see no signs of life, not even a black, fully tinted vehicle. I rub my neck as I worry if I’ve made a mistake.
“Bro, are you sure they’re here?” asks Brandon who is sitting in the backseat.
I say nothing as I unbuckle my seatbelt. As I prepare to get out of the car, I feel Dee’s hand on my arm. “Ian, I would wait until the officers get out of their cars first. You’ll never know if this is a trap. Anyone armed can lurk behind that door.”
I pause and look at the cabin. It’s dark, but she could be right. Soon the cop cars and SWAT team pull up next to us. While the officers exit out of their vehicles, guns at the ready, my dad raps on my window. As soon as I roll it down, he addresses us.
“I want you all to stay inside the car while the team checks out the place. We want to make sure it’s safe before we go in. Under no circumstances are you allowed to leave this vehicle.”
Dad leaves, leaving me no chance to protest. We wait in silence as we watch the pros roam the area. One of them informs the team that they found a black car parked in the back.
My heart beats at the confirmation that she’s in there. We watch them gather outside, calling out to whoever is inside to open the door. No one is answering, leaving them no choice but to barge through the entrance.
A loud crack in the air disturbs the peace, followed by a booming thump. I jump in my seat, and I cower down with my hands covering my head. After a split second, I hear yelling from outside while my friends, with shaky and panicked voices, barrage me with questions.
“What the hell is going on?” cries Bianca.
My ragged breathing is loud as sweat from my forehead moistens my brows. Slowly, I raise my head from behind the dashboard and peek. “What the fuck just happened?”
“I don’t know, man,” says Jordan. His voice shakes as he speaks. “There was a loud, ‘pop,’ like a tire backing up, and then I’m hiding behind this steering wheel.”
“Someone opened fire, guys,” says Dee. “An officer is down, I think.”
“Shit, for real?” says Jordan. “Oh, hell no.”
Someone lays still on the ground while the team surrounds him, but in a few minutes he’s up.
“I guess he dodged that bullet,” says Jordan. “Or he’s got a great bulletproof vest on.
As they plot their next move, I bite my nails. Mr. Cunningham armed himself, and he’s not afraid to use it
. After fifteen minutes, the door opens and one of the SWAT team emerges from the inside, holding a rifle, and I furrow my brow in confusion.
“They found another entry, I guess,” says Brandon.
When a cop walks in our direction, I roll down my window. “Officer Jones, what’s going on?”
He snaps his head towards me, taken aback at seeing a truck full of teenagers. But he recognizes me and heads my way. “There was a shotgun inside the cabin mounted securely on a table facing the entrance, and they triggered it when one guy opened the front door.”
“Shotgun booby trap,” I say.
“Exactly.” He eyes us sternly, pulling his brows together. “You guys stay in this truck, you hear? There could be other booby traps set up, and they’re scouting the place to see if there are others in this perimeter. This is no place for teenagers. Ya’ll can go home now.”
Fuck no. Ain’t gonna happen. But I nod like a good boy until he walks away. In the meantime, an officer yells an “all clear” and they storm the cabin. My adrenaline surges, and I hop out of the car.
“Whoa, where are you going?” asks Brandon, leaning towards my seat, peering out my open door. “Didn’t you just hear what he said? There could be other traps.”
“I didn’t come here to sit pretty. I’m going inside.” But when I study them, they look nervous, including Brandon. “You guys just stay here and stay safe.”
But Brandon opens his door and blurts out, “Fuck that. I’m going with you.”
Bianca sighs, but Dee follows suit. “I’m not staying here while the boys have all the fun.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Bianca exclaims.
“No,” we say in unison.
“Bye, B,” says Dee.
“Ugh…” she responds, but she steps out and joins us.
I look at her shoes. “Seriously, Bianca? You came out in stilettos to a potential hostage situation?”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, I didn’t know I was going ‘Archie and the Gang’ today, ok.”
I smirk at her Riverdale reference, but I leave them and walk to the cabin. But as soon as I step on the rickety stairs, my dad’s team exits through the front door. “What’s going on?”
One of them turns to me. “They’re not here. We’re gonna track them in the forest before the sun goes down.”
I look around bewildered. My dad approaches me. “It’s time to go, son.”
“Are you sure, Dad? Did you guys even look everywhere?”
“This place is only 500 square feet, and it’s practically empty. There’s not much square footage for them to hide.”
I bite my lip. I don’t want to leave until I examine the area myself, so I run up the steps and enter the space.
There’s not much to see, just a bunch of trash piled to the side, a stool and an old furnace. A small kitchen houses dead roaches on the counter. I sneeze as the dust reaches my nostrils.
“Ew, there’s a dead rat in here!” screams Bianca.
“Check out those cobwebs. I think that’s a black widow,” says Dee.
“God, you don’t have to tell me that!”
“Relax, B.”
“Whatever.”
I take my hands out of my pockets and place them on the wall. I trail them along as I walk, feeling for something.
“What are you doing, bro?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to leave, yet.”
“Son, let’s go. You can’t stay here unattended. There’s nothing here,” says my dad.
Brandon tugs my sweater sleeve. “Sorry, dude. I guess we gotta bounce.”
I look out the window and see the SWAT team, opening the trunk of the black car. They pull out a rifle and I wince. Jo rode on that vehicle with an armed Mr. Cunningham. Where the hell is she?
“Julian, let’s go now.” My dad bellows from the doorway, and I know I have no choice. Reluctantly, I follow him to the door.
As I step outside, my father disappears around the corner, and I take a deep breath. I pause underneath the doorframe to refocus, but the orange glow of the setting sun catches my attention. Shadows swallow the trees, the vehicles and the cabin as daylight fades. Dread seeps into my brain because when darkness falls, finding Jo in this dense forest will be near impossible. And calling off the search party tonight is not an option. I will continue to search even if I have to do it alone.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stands. A coldness envelopes me, and I’m covered with goosebumps. I get the strange sensation of being watched. That can only mean one thing. There’s a spirit nearby. I spin around, my heart beating wildly. “She’s here.”
Brandon, who had been standing next to me, stares at me. “What are you talking about?”
“You gotta trust me, bro. She’s here.” I head back inside. I get excited as I zip up my jacket because the temperature dropping confirms my suspicion. Someone’s in here whose presence only I can feel. There’s only one reason I can do that. Jo is somewhere close by.
There are no rooms in this cabin, so I don’t waste time checking for hollow walls, but an underground room is not far-fetched. “Guys, I have this gut feeling there’s a basement or a cellar here. Examine the floor and let me know if you see something different from the rest.”
“I’ll check outside,” says Brandon, and he exits the cabin.
Dee and the rest continue to check the floors until suddenly, I hear Brandon from outside. “Yo guys, there’s a rinky-dink deck out here. Come look.”
We run out through the kitchen door where we see Brandon standing on a small deck. When we join him, he points his toe to an area, and I bend to examine it closer. Sure enough, there are gold hinges and squared slits on the ground. It’s concealed pretty well. Anyone could totally miss it. “Yeah, bro, I see it. Let’s see if we can open it.”
“Guys, we should call for backup. I really don’t think you should go down there, Ian, without the police,” says Dee.
I say nothing, but I hear her get on the phone. “Sir, there’s a recessed bulkhead door outside the cabin that the team should see.”
As she talks to them, I pry it open while my friends chat behind me. Warm, stale air exits from the door, making me wrinkle my nose. I wipe my clammy hands on my jeans as I look below. Steep stairs lead down, but it’s dark, and I can’t see the landing. There’s only one thing to do. “I’m going down.”
The ladies protest, except for Brandon, “you sure, bro?”
“Ian, just wait for them to get here. They’re not that far behind,” says Dee.
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.” And with those famous last words, I descend the steps.
Dee pleads with me, but I ignore her as I go deeper into the cellar. It takes awhile for my eyesight to adjust to the darkness but by the time I hit the landing, I’m able to see a small shelving against the wall and some cans on the floor.
But there is light—somewhere to my left. It’s dim but when I turn, I see a dirty old room and a lightbulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling. Suddenly, I hear a groan, and I quickly snap my head in the sound’s direction. And that’s when my heart stops.
The Night Orchid Page 44