by Alana Terry
For the first time in her life, Kennedy realized how grateful she was for her own mom and dad, how glad she was that her definition of family bore no resemblance to Anthony Abernathy’s.
He bumped into Vinny’s shoulder when he started to pace again. “She’s been with that toad this whole time. I told her parents that little Muslim was no good. They should have sent him to Vermont as soon as I told them to, then this wouldn’t …” He shook his head and waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Take her to the hospital. And tell her that if she even drops a hint as to who she really is, I will find her Arab boyfriend, and I will murder him. Got that?”
Vinny bent down, and Kennedy wanted to protest before he jostled Jodie up in his arms. Shouldn’t they call the paramedics instead? Shouldn’t they have a stretcher and someone trained to transport patients in such critical condition? But there was nothing she could say. At least Jodie would get the help she needed. Kennedy hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
“Well, that’s out of the way,” Anthony growled, fixing his gaze on Kennedy. “Now get up. You’re coming with me.”
CHAPTER 23
Kennedy’s mind processed the danger before her body had a chance to fully respond. She slapped Anthony’s hand away when he reached out. He lunged and grabbed a handful of her hair. She barely managed to break his hold.
Scampering backward, she made it to the wall before he seized her collar and yanked her to her feet.
All those videos her dad made her watch on self-defense were a complete waste of time. How could she be prepared for something like this? How could she fight back when she only felt like throwing up or curling into a ball and trying to disappear into the air?
He tightened his hold, and her collar cut into her throat. She tried to swing herself around. He was too strong. She aimed a clumsy kick at his shin that did nothing to loosen his grip.
“You think fighting’s going to get you anywhere?”
She choked back her scream and pictured Jodie’s unconscious body being carried out of their prison. She would get the medical attention she needed. At least she wasn’t here to witness her uncle’s brutality.
White spots floated in Kennedy’s field of vision. She tried to reach back and claw at his face, but his hold was too tight. Would she pass out now, too?
She thought about the knife in her pocket. Did she dare use it? Could she ever find the intestinal fortitude? She glanced down at the blood clots on the floor. Bile rose in her throat.
“Let go of me.” She scratched at his forearm and felt like a schnauzer fighting off a grizzly.
“You should have never gotten involved in any of this.”
She tried to turn her face away from his nauseating breath.
“It was never your business to poke around in,” he snarled.
Kennedy’s head felt like it was about to float up like a helium balloon. She clutched at the front of her shirt, trying to give herself some breathing room. She could hardly think straight. The battle was lost. It had been lost the minute Anthony entered the room.
He turned his neck and bellowed out the door. “Dustin. Get over here. Now.”
The younger man appeared seconds later. “Yeah?”
“Once we clean up here, you’re going to Vermont. Take care of that Arab boy.”
Dustin nodded. Kennedy was terrified to see him leave. She would have rather faced a hundred Dustins instead of one angry Anthony.
“Jodie said they were never really together.” The words squeaked out of Kennedy’s mouth.
She felt Anthony shrug behind her. “She lied.”
Was Dustin going to go kill him, then? No, there was no way these men planned to let her live. She knew too much. She had seen too much. She thought of her parents, how devastated they would be. How long until they learned the truth? She wondered if Reuben or Willow would really grieve, or if it would only weird them out to have known the victim of a brutal murder. Her only consolation was that Jodie had made it out safely.
“Why?” Kennedy croaked. She had to get him talking more. She had to keep his mind on anything but her. She had to breathe. “Why are you doing any of this?”
Anthony’s laugh fell flat in the room. “Jodie is my niece. I love her like she was my own flesh and blood.”
There was something in his tone — something almost possessive — that made Kennedy shiver. Should she expect any less from a beast like this? It didn’t matter. As long as he kept babbling, she could inhale. As long as he kept babbling, his attention and his wrath weren’t focused solely on her.
“You know if this gets out, it’s going to hurt her dad’s campaign even more than the pregnancy would have.”
He sniggered. “You think I’m doing this to help my brother?” His words dripped with cruelty. Did men like this really exist outside of horror novels? Did men like this have souls, or were they empty shells possessed by fiends and demons, intent on wreaking havoc on anyone and anything unfortunate enough to get in their way?
“Come on. Get moving.” He nudged her forward without releasing his hold.
Kennedy glanced down and took a careful step around the bloody sea on the floor. What was going to happen now? It was like waking up from one nightmare only to fall back to sleep and dream something horrifically worse.
Anthony’s voice held a hint of malicious humor. “You know, you shouldn’t ask so many questions. One day you might learn something that …”
His boot skidded in the puddle of blood. His arms flailed out. One foot slipped out from under him. He crashed to the messy ground, knocking Kennedy over with him. Her reflexes were quicker than his, and she jumped out of his way before he could get up.
“Don’t move.” The force in her own voice startled her. The knife was out of her pocket, out of its sheath before she could change her mind. She held it out with a shaking hand and backed another step closer to the door.
He made a move to stand, but she tightened her grip on the weapon.
“I said don’t move.”
Anthony’s eyes widened, and then he let out a laugh that rang out and echoed eerily against the walls. “Or what?”
Kennedy felt the blood drain from her face. Why had she brought a weapon into this deadly scenario? How many seconds would it take him to seize it and use it against her? Would she bleed more or less than Jodie when he was done?
Anthony narrowed his eyes angrily. “What are you going to do, girlie? Stab me to death?” Another laugh, like two pieces of silverware scraping against each other, setting her teeth on edge.
What should she do now? What could she do? She was about to risk an impossible dash out the bathroom when she heard the door by the stairs crash open.
“FBI!”A whole army of voices burst out at once. They shouted, made loud demands as a horde of boots stampeded down the stairs. How many were there? A dozen? A hundred?
“Drop your weapon!”
Two single pops sounded, and Kennedy let the knife clatter to the floor. Instinct told her to fall to the ground, but she wanted to stay as far away from Anthony as she could. She sucked in her breath and pressed against the wall.
Everything after that happened all at once. There was no slowing down the perception of time like she read about in books. First, Anthony swiped the knife and sprang to his feet. He spun around behind Kennedy and held the blade to her throat.
A second later, at least half a dozen men in dark gas masks materialized in the doorway, aiming assault rifles at them both.
CHAPTER 24
“Sir, drop the knife.”
The rest of the team fell silent, and only the man in front spoke. His tone was calmer now, even though Kennedy’s ears still rang with the sounds of the men’s angry bellows and ultimatums from a moment earlier.
Anthony wrapped one arm around her chest. She could feel him breathing hard behind her and wasn’t sure if she was the one quivering so much or both of them. She held her breath, trying to creep away from the blade pressed against her skin.
“Sir, you need to drop the knife. Now.”
Kennedy wondered why the agent was so reserved. Couldn’t he see what was happening? Couldn’t he tell she was less than half an inch away from death? How far down was her carotid artery? And once Anthony made the fatal slice, how long would it take to die? Would it feel like drowning? Would it be peaceful, like falling to sleep as the world around you slowly went black? Or chaotic — gasping for nothing as you felt your life spurt out of you pulse by pulse?
The men in the doorway looked to Kennedy more like one cohesive unit of death than individual men. Their eyes were all fixed on Anthony. She wished one of them would look at her. They were trained for rescues like this, right? So why weren’t they acting? Should she duck so they could get their shot? They must have good aim and quick reflexes. They’d make sure to hold their fire until she was out of the way.
Wouldn’t they?
“Hold still.” The leader was talking to her even though his eyes hadn’t moved off of Anthony. Had he anticipated her thoughts? Why couldn’t someone tell her what was going on? A little nod, a slight hand gesture — something to convince her they were going to take care of her?
Kennedy was trembling so hard she feared she might slice herself open on the blade. She could feel the cold pressure against her skin, but it hadn’t cut into her yet. At least she didn’t think it had. These men wouldn’t let Anthony go that far, right?
Why were they so still?
“Don’t take another step closer, or I’ll kill her.” Anthony was still breathing heavy, but his voice didn’t quiver.
“You’d be dead before you finished.”
The words didn’t comfort Kennedy at all. What did these men care more about — getting Anthony, or keeping her safe? When she stared into their hard, calculating faces, she had serious doubts. This wasn’t anything like in the movies. There was no fast-paced soundtrack, no pops of gunfire syncopating in the background. In fact, it was almost completely silent except for the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Anthony gripped her more tightly from behind. The movement from the men in black was barely perceptible. She didn’t know if she actually saw it or only sensed the increase in tension. She sucked in her breath. Were they going to shoot? Was he going to cut? She knew too much. Even if Anthony was about to die, what would stop him from taking her down with him?
Apparently, the team leader’s thoughts weren’t that far from hers. “We have a medical team assembled right outside this building,” he told Anthony. Kennedy knew she should feel relieved, but then again she didn’t relish the thought of getting cut open at all. Was he trying to boost her confidence? “The girl would get immediate attention. And you would rot in hell. Your choice.”
Anthony let out a loud sigh. Hope tried to emerge from its steel cocoon where Kennedy had buried it deep within.
“All right.” Some of the tension seeped out of Anthony’s strained muscles. “We’ll do this your way.”
Kennedy waited. Wasn’t there supposed to be a rush of relief like they talked about in books? Shouldn’t the men’s faces relax? If she had to guess, their expressions were even more strained now. Or was it her imagination? Was the worst really over?
He removed his arm from across her chest.
“Easy,” the team leader warned, but Kennedy didn’t know which one of them he was talking to. What was she supposed to do now? Was she really free? “Easy …”
She didn’t trust her legs and waited for some sort of sign from her rescuers. If Anthony was letting her go, why did he still hold the blade to her neck?
“Lower that knife.” The rescuer sounded like someone telling the high tide to calm itself and take a time out.
Hope for freedom merged with some sort of primitive, fear-laced instinct. Kennedy held her breath as Anthony slowly moved the knife away from her throat. So he really was giving in. It was over.
A second later, the saturated silence was broken by a chaotic din as everything erupted into noise at once. Someone shouting, “No!” A dozen gunshots or more. The sound of Kennedy’s own scream.
Next the shock of fiery, glowing, diabolical pain as Anthony plunged the knife into her back.
CHAPTER 25
There were voices, murmurs that sounded like they were coming from underwater. Tension. Worry. Would the nightmare never cease?
A high-pitched electronic wailing. Ceaseless. Relentless. Enough to drive you crazy if you let it.
Pain everywhere. Hot pain, as if a fiery lance still sizzled inside her. Over and over and over again.
People shouting commands. Hands poking here, prodding there. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet.
“Kennedy? Sweetie? Can you hear me?”
The voice pulled her out of some dark, murky mire. She returned slowly, reluctantly. The light overhead burned. Why was someone shining the sun in her eyes?
“She’s waking up.” The gush of enthusiasm sounded out of place as the nightmare begrudgingly loosened its hold.
She blinked. Her eyes were even scratchier than normal.
“It’s me, sweetie. Sandy. And Carl’s here, too.” The voice was pleasant, kind. If Kennedy had any tears left in her ducts, she might have let them flow.
A hand held hers. A voice, strong as the wind. Bold as the ocean. “We’re glad to have you back.”
She tried to focus. Carl. She didn’t recognize where she was. Was this the next chapter of the nightmare, a short reprieve before it dragged her back down in its clutches to the abyss?
“You’re all right, sweetie.” Sandy swept some hair off Kennedy’s brow. “You’re going to recover just fine.”
“You’re a very lucky young lady.” Carl beamed at her with a sort of paternal pride.
“What time is it?” The words made sense in her mind, but she couldn’t tell if they came out right.
“Excuse me.” At the sound of the authoritative voice, Carl and Sandy stepped aside. A man in a familiar black uniform strode over to Kennedy’s bed. “I’m glad to see you’re waking up.”
Details of her kidnapping and rescue crept back into her memory. When she recalled the knife stab, she was thankful she didn’t feel anything but tired. Tired and groggy. How much time had gone by? How long had she been passed out? She wiggled her fingers. Everything was working fine. Now she had to check her …
“I can’t move my feet.” She hadn’t meant to sound so panicked.
The officer cleared his throat. “I suspect that’s just the result of the anesthesia. The blade really couldn’t have made a safer cut. Your friend here was quite right. You are one very lucky young woman.”
Kennedy looked around for something she could vomit into.
“Now that you’re awake, I have some questions to ask you.”
“Beg your pardon, officer.” Carl’s tone was respectful, but his words were resolute. “She’s just survived an abduction, a major injury…”
Kennedy wasn’t sure how Carl’s retelling of all her recent trauma could help anything.
“What my husband is trying to say,” Sandy jumped in, “is that maybe you could give her a little more time to recover. She just woke up not a minute ago. I imagine she wants to talk to her mom and dad …”
Kennedy’s throat constricted painfully at the mention of her parents.
The officer frowned. “Well, I can’t force anything, but we have reason to believe that …”
“I’ll do it.”
Three pairs of eyes stared down at her.
“I’ll answer your questions.” Kennedy still didn’t feel like her tongue was working quite right, but they seemed to understand her.
“You don’t have to,” Sandy crooned. “Don’t feel pressured …”
“I already heard him make plans to kill somebody. A friend of Jodie’s.” She sucked in her breath. Jodie. She tried to sit up, but it was as if all her core muscles had gone on strike. “He sent Jodie to the hospital. She was passed out. He had tried to get her to take …”
The officer held up his hand. “We got the girl as soon as they came out of the complex. We were already there waiting.”
“That was some fast thinking you did, contacting us on the church website.” Carl was glowing as he stared down at her with his arm around his wife.
“We were planning to storm the complex for other reasons,” the officer explained. “We would have jumped in with gas until we learned they were also holding hostages.”
“What you did on that computer may have saved both of your lives,” Sandy gushed.
Kennedy didn’t care about any of this. “Where is Jodie now? Is she all right?”
“Your little friend will be just fine.” Kennedy immediately noticed the officer’s use of the future tense. She looked to Carl and Sandy.
“She lost a lot of blood.” Carl had such a different appearance when he wasn’t smiling. “She’s in another part of Providence right now getting a transfusion.”
Kennedy detected the heaviness that seemed to crouch down on everyone’s shoulders. She already knew the answer to her next question. “And the baby?”
Carl shook his head. “By the time she got here, it was too late.”
“It was her uncle.” Kennedy fixed her eyes on the officer, wondering if he was going to write that down on the little notepad he held. “Anthony. He wanted to force her to have …”
“We know all about Anthony Abernathy.” Anger tainted the officer’s words for the first time since he came in. “I’m curious though about what you said about killing someone.”
Kennedy told him how Jodie didn’t want her uncle to realize how far along in the pregnancy she really was. “Jodie said the boy wasn’t really the father, but her uncle would think it was. She didn’t want to get him in trouble. They mentioned a boys’ home. Vermont, maybe?”
The officer nodded. “We’ll look into it.”