by Brook Wilder
No time for negative thoughts, Prescott thought, trying to shake off his anxiety. He got anxious way too often, a part of him wishing he knew how to work well under pressure. But he didn’t have much of a choice, didn’t he? It was do or die, and in that case, getting rid of Al got him that much closer to his goal.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Simon wouldn’t leave Della alone. She was backed up against his car, and he hadn’t stopped gawking at her since. She had told herself to stop interacting with him, or even looking at him, like he was invisible. She realized that snapping at him provoked him a whole lot more than not acknowledging his existence at all. Simon loved a conformist woman. He wanted to feel powerful, like he was in control. And that was what he was trying to do with Della. He was trying to control her, make her feel small. Like she was his puppet. He got off on her squeals, her desperate cries for help. And he was pushing for more. But Della wasn’t having it. Simon knew she wasn’t that kind of woman; she had a lot of fight in her, and she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. But the truth was, Della was afraid. In fact, she was terrified of Simon. She knew he was unpredictable, that he was going to stop at nothing to make her his. After all, he was obsessed with her, and she knew that well.
“Hey, can you just let me?” Simon asked, leaning in close to Della.
“You just never give up, do you?” Della asked, turning away. She wiggled her body away from him, but this time, he wouldn’t let her.
“No, I won’t. I won’t because you don’t want me to, say you don’t want me to,” Simon said, his face only inches from hers.
Della could feel her heartbeat out of her chest. She held her hands out in front of her, trying to push Simon off.
“Stop fighting it!” he snapped, pressing his lips to hers.
Della could feel her heart sink. She was feeling humiliated, like she had let him get to her. The truth was, she felt disgusted, and all that she wanted was to disappear right then and there. Simon’s lips felt cold and clammy, and Della felt her skin crawl as he exercised his makeout skills on her. She leaned further back, trying to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She could feel his hands roam her body, his fingers climbing up and down her back.
“Stop,” she murmured, resting her hands on his chest and trying to push him off.
“You know you like it.” Simon pressed his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes. Della tried to shrink away, leaning further back and holding her forearms up to her face. Tears gathered in her eyes as Simon locked lips with her again, his lips wet and clammy. She felt like hell. She had never been so humiliated in her life, but she couldn’t free herself from Simon’s grip.
“Get off me!” she yelled, throwing her head back and clawing at his face. Della dug her nails into the back of Simon’s neck, and he jumped back, groaning.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his eyes locked on Della’s. His face drooped to a scowl, but when their gazes met, his lips curved to a smile again, and he stepped closer to her and pulled her to him once more. Della winced as his hands moved further down her back, touching her backside.
“Don’t touch me!” Della squealed, grabbing a hold of his wrist. He turned her around so she faced the car window, and he grabbed her from behind. At that point Della’s belly as squished up against the car window, Simon’s hands wrapped around her and roamed her baby bump.
“Is the baby kicking?” he whispered into her ear. His raspy voice sent shivers down Della’s spine, and for a second she felt like heaving.
“Get your hands off my belly, get your hands off my baby!” she yelled, struggling to turn around again. He stroked her stomach with his thumb, burying his face into her neck and nuzzling it. She could feel the cold tip of his nose stroking the nape of her neck and travelling down to her collarbone. She turned to look at him, and when he stuck out his tongue teasingly, she kicked at him with the heel of her boots.
“You bitch!” he said, bouncing back again. “That hurt!”
“I know it did, now, stay away from me!” she said, turning around to face him. But Simon was relentless. Never in her life has she seen someone so determined, so merciless, to make her his. Simon was a rapist, a control freak, and what he was about to do to her scared her more than anything. It scared her more than meeting Al.
“Don’t try, just let it happen, let it happen, Della!” Simon said, his hands climbing up her stomach again. His palms rested on her chest area, and Della shoved him with so much force that he fell flat on his back. She couldn’t let Simon find her phone. At that point, Della’s brain was on overdrive. She saw the way he glared at her when she shoved him, his eyes wide with fury. But she had no other choice. If Simon were to find out she had her phone on her, he would kill her. The least he would’ve done was crush the phone to a thousand tiny pieces, and then no one would find her.
That phone is my last chance, my only shot at making it out of this alive, she thought to herself as Simon got back up and charged towards her. She could feel her heart drop to her knees, the look on Simon’s face like nothing she’d ever seen before. He was furious, and she could tell from the way his lips were slightly parted and his nostrils flared. She had just humiliated him, made him feel unwanted, and that was the one thing he couldn’t handle when it came to her. She let out a scream as he pulled her hair back, turned her around again and pinned her down against the hood of his car.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Della said as Simon pushed her head down against the car hood. Immediately, she felt a sharp pain resonate at the base of her skull, Simon’s grip tightening around the back of her neck. “Oh my God, Simon!” Della yelled, her eyes landing on the gun in his pocket. He pulled it out, cocking his pistol, paused for a second and then pushed her head down again, pointing the gun to her head.
“How do you like me now?” he snarled, pressing the muzzle to her forehead. Della yelled out in pain as Simon threatened to shoot her.
“Please, please, I’ll do anything,” she said, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “My child, I’m going to be a mother!” she yelled, her voice trembling.
“Oh, now you’ll do anything?” Simon asked, brushing a hand through her hair. “Oh, honey, you don’t have much of a choice anymore, now, do you?” he asked, his voice turning from raspy to soft. Della was starting to think he had multiple personalities. She opened her mouth but no words came out, and she could feel the muzzle digging into her forehead. At any second, Simon could pull the trigger.
“I don’t, I don’t have a choice, no,” Della said, trying to remain as still as possible. But she couldn’t help but struggle whenever she heard Simon make a move. She couldn’t see what he was doing, and that was the most torturous thing of all.
“Then you’re going to do as I say,” Simon said, his pointer finger dancing around the trigger. “Or you’re dead.”
Della nodded. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Simon slide his gun back into his pocket. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around her again, feeling her up. She clenched her eyes as his hands floated around her belly and then slid further down to her waist and the inside of her thighs. She held in the urge to cry out for help, because she knew no one would hear her. When he reached for her fly and unzipped her pants, she let out a quiet sob, and then he started pinching at her skin to get her to stop.
“Shut up!” he said, his hands sliding down her jeans and feeling her up. “You wet, yeah?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered.
Della crossed her legs and kicked at his feet, but lighter this time.
“Oh, you’re getting feisty again,” Simon said, his hands moving in circular motion over the thin sheath of her underwear. She could feel him get hard behind her, a part of her growing so desperate that she wished the ground would just open up and swallow her. Simon had given her so little room to move, and she found herself wiggling like a worm in such a tight space. “Why so uptight? Just l
oosen up for me,” Simon hissed, running his hands all over her. Della couldn’t believe this was happening. It was her worst nightmare embodied in a person. Suddenly, Simon groped her too hard, and when she flinched in terror, she heard a clatter.
It was her phone.
Della froze. She stared down at the ground, and when her eyes landed on her phone, she kicked it and it went gliding under Simon’s car.
“What was that?” Simon asked, his head cocked to the side. He let go of Della, scanning the area around them. He thought he heard something.
“What?” Della asked, silently zipping up her pants and looking around her. She couldn’t let Simon feel anything, she couldn’t let him know what she had done.
“What was that sound?” he asked, glaring at Della. She shrugged, pretending to look around her, and when her eyes landed on the phone again, she felt her heart sink. It had glided under the car and then came out the other side. She cursed herself for not taking good care of it, for not holding onto it, and she clenched her eyes, hoping Simon wouldn’t catch a glimpse of it basking in the light of day.
Shit, shit, Della thought to herself as she watched Simon explore their surroundings like a watchdog. He was determined to know where the noise came from.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, glaring at Della. She shook her head, her eyes going to her phone every now and again, trying to make sure that Simon didn’t see it. She thought about what she could do, but she knew she couldn’t just step over there and pick it off the ground. Simon would end her.
“Well, come over here,” Simon sighed, moving towards Della again. He leaned in and kissed her again, and she shrunk away, her eyes fixated on her phone still.
Suddenly, the phone started vibrating.
Della jumped. She could feel her lungs shrivel up, and she was out of breath.
“What the fuck is this?” Simon snapped, his eyes landing on the source of the sound. He picked Della’s phone off the ground, unlocking it and searching through her text messages. “Is this yours?” he asked, his eyes growing wide with fury. Della didn’t know what to say. She just stared at the phone, her lips slightly parted, and then she turned away, not saying anything. “You know what,” Simon said. “I’m going to find out myself.” Simon started looking through the phone, and then his eyes landed on a notification: “Find my iPhone has been successfully turned on.”
“Wait, wait, I can explain,” Della said, her voice trembling. She didn’t know what to do. She was panicking, and at that point, all she wanted was to stall until the cops showed up. She prayed to God they were on their way. They had to be. She knew Prescott was smart, she knew he was probably close to finding her by now.
Simon didn’t answer her. He didn’t take his eyes off her phone, either. He was still going through her texts, trying to monitor everything that had been happening. He found old messages from Prescott, and it was only then that he had made sure the phone was hers.
“You bitch!” Simon yelled, glaring at Della. His fingers were clenched around her phone, and he was staring at her with bloodshot eyes. It was almost like he felt betrayed, stabbed in the back by the love of his life. “When did you turn on the fucking phone finder?” he barked.
“I, I don’t know,” Della said. She folded both arms across her chest, looking around her.
Oh, God, please, let the cops show up, let the cops show up, she thought to herself. Simon was still gawking at her. “I don’t know what to say,” Della muttered. “But I don’t think you should do anything too hasty,” she continued. She knew she was going to regret what she just said.
“Hasty? Hasty?” Simon asked, his head cocked to the side. “You think all of this was hasty?” Della didn’t say anything, she just shifted in her place, trying to avoid looking at him. “Now listen up, this whole thing ...This whole plan was nothing but well thought out. I thought of everything! Every single detail,” Simon said, rather to himself. “And now you barge in and fuck everything up! Who do you think you are?” he asked, yelling into the emptiness of the open road.
“I’m, I’m sorry,” Della said, shaking.
“Forty minutes, you got this notification forty minutes ago?!” Simon asked, throwing his hands up in the air. “Fuck!” he yelled, brushing a hand through his hair. He was panicking, and Della stared at him as his eyes darted from the phone, to Della and then to the phone again. Suddenly, he threw the gadget to the ground, stared at it for a while and then took his gun out.
“What are you doing?” Della screamed, wrapping both arms around her belly.
Without thinking, Simon fired a shot at Della’s phone, and then another one, and another one. Simon shot the phone five times, and it exploded into shards. Hot bits of plastic burst into the air, some of them threatening to hurt Della.
“Stop, stop!” she said as Simon continued to fire shots at the phone. It was already in pieces, but he wouldn’t stop firing at it. Della was terrified he would point the gun at her, but she didn’t move, feeling her heart break with every shot fired. Had Simon just destroyed her chances of being rescued?
No, no, she thought to herself. Prescott must’ve found another way to get to me. She thought about that forty minute window, how that must’ve been enough time for Prescott to act. And then she thought about Kate. Ever since they reconciled, not a day had gone by without the two of them catching up. Della thought that Kate was probably worried sick about her, she had to be. She knew deep in her heart that everyone who loved and cared about her would move to help find her.
Simon stopped firing. Della breathed a sigh of relief when Simon put the gun back into his pocket, walking over to the remnants of the phone and stomping over them. The man was sick. The phone had almost turned into ashes, but Simon was still stepping all over the remnants like his life depended on it. Della just watched him, tears gathering in her eyes as she felt a wave of despair wash over her. Were they ever going to find her? She was losing hope with every passing second. The weather was getting chilly and she was growing tired, the weight of the baby taking a toll on her ankles.
“Fuck you, fuck you!” Simon yelled, throwing his hands up in the air.
And suddenly, Della heard sirens.
Immediately, she shot up, her eyes darting back and forth. Did she hear right? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?
Simon bounced back. “Shit, shit,” he muttered, scurrying to where Della had been standing. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it. “We have to get out of here,” he hissed.
“Please, please let me go, just leave me here, please!” Della squealed.
“Leave you here? For them? Are you insane?” Simon asked, his grip tightening around her wrist, so tight it hurt.
“Please, I won’t say anything, just let me go and don’t hurt me, I beg you!” Della said, her voice trembling.
“No fucking way, get in the car!” Simon said, popping the back door open and forcing her head down. Della couldn’t believe this was happening. She thought about screaming at the top of her lungs, but when her eyes landed on Simon’s gun poking out of his pocket, she decided against it. She complied to his orders, slipping into the back seat and turning to look at the police cars, whose sirens were echoing everywhere by now.
Please, please just hurry up! she thought to herself. The sirens were getting closer and closer, and Della prayed they would just get there before Simon took off. She thought about Prescott. Was he with the police? Or was Kate with them? Or both? She thought about her family and everyone who cared about her. She was terrified of what would happen next.
Without saying anything, Simon turned on the ignition. Della sighed in desperation, her eyes still fixated on the open road. She prayed for the police cars to appear at the horizon anytime now.
“Bitch, what have you done?” Simon asked, stomping on the gas pedal. And he drove off.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Prescott raced down the highway. He was still listening in on the police radio, tracking the cops’ every move. He was full of
hope, and he had gotten that much closer to finding Della, to bringing her home. The cops were approaching a remote area, almost in the middle of nowhere, and Prescott was determined to lose track of them.
“Come on, come on,” he said to himself as he sped down the highway. “How far can this place be?”
The truth was, Simon had taken her somewhere far, somewhere secluded. He had taken her to the far edge of the city, only to make it that much harder for anyone to find them. But it was all Al’s instructions. He was the mastermind behind all of this, and Simon was his puppet. Prescott sighed as the radios seemed to glitch and crackle.