I cough and groan loudly in pain. “Yes,” I finally yelp with tears filling my eyes.
“Good,” he says, bending down and grabbing my wrists. I feel the first cuff latch tightly around my left wrist as he drags me a few feet over by my hand. The metal cuffs clang against something as he grabs my other wrist and locks it in place. I lay back with my arms painfully suspended above my head and let my tears roll down the sides of my face. Handcuffs. I wasn’t bound with chains or ropes…I was bound with police issued handcuffs.
“I can promise you one thing,” he says to me. “You won’t get away this time, and Nick won’t be able to make it to rescue you. Hope you enjoyed the time you had with him.”
I close my eyes and cry even harder. I feel his hands on me suddenly. I fight the urge to throw up. I dare not move an inch.
I can hear a sick little smile in his voice. “You always were the prettiest; it’s why we kept you so long,” he says into my ear.
I can feel his hands move to the collar of my shirt. Nick’s shirt. I whimper, completely terrified to make the one wrong move that could hurt Nick. His hands grip the collar as he begins to forcefully pull. I feel the entire front of the short rip open, exposing my bra and bare upper body. I let out a loud cry, leaving my eyes shut as I beg him no. His hand quickly meets my face with great force, making my cheek bone throb from the blow as he went back to inspecting me.
“No wonder Andrews had it out for you,” he tells me. “I bet you’re a model,” he says. “No, a dancer.”
I begin to sob uncontrollably in a way that I feel myself gasping for air.
“That’s it,” he says. “You’re a dancer.”
I feel so ill I can barely more. Nausea is feeling my stomach and my chest, and I can feel my chin quiver as I fight hard not to throw up. He gives me another blow to the face before I hear him stand up. “Now, don’t you run off anywhere now.” He laughs.
I cry, sniffling as I listen to his footsteps disappear. The damp and musty room grows quiet again as I shiver from the cold. Suddenly, I hear the faint sound of whimpers and soft cries coming from another direction. It finally dawns on me that they have someone else.
- 14 -
Nick
I squeeze my hands into tight fists and make the knuckles turn white as I pound on the steering wheel of the black and white. I have no idea how long they’ve been gone and certainly no idea where he’s taken her. Charlie had been so drugged the first time so that she couldn’t recollect anything of the old building she was in, other than it had been abandoned. She could remember the cold cement ground, leaky ceiling, and other attributes pointing to a condemned building.
I think long and hard for a moment, trying to at least concentrate on the traffic as I weave in between various cars and taxis that are stalled in the middle of rush hour traffic. I bring a hand to my head and rub at my temple as I feel the sudden headache beginning to wash over my skull. I let out a long huff and pound on the steering wheel once more. “Damn it!” I scream as the side of my fist comes down hard on the steering wheel, this time sending a small pain into my hand.
I dig my phone from my pocket as the traffic rolls to a complete stop. I swipe my finger on the screen and dial Wilson’s office. “Wilson, look, I need some sort of layout of the city. Something that would show me old, abandoned buildings and their locations,” I bark.
“Andrews! You little fucking asshole,” he cracks. “You are one of the dumbest fucking individuals I have ever seen.”
“Look,” I say, “you have my full and complete permission to fire me, to tear me inside out but please, do it after I have her safe. When I have her safe, then you can throw my badge at me. Just help me.”
I hear him let out a sigh. “I knew you would get too fucking attached. I knew we should have put someone else on this.” I hear a rustling sound for a moment. “I fucking trusted you, Andrews.”
“You trusted me to keep her safe, and that’s what I did,” I snap, “until you had her sit in your damn office!”
He mutters a few cuss words under his breath.
“Wilson, just help me,” I beg.
“Fine,” his voice rumbles. “She didn’t remember much, though.”
“The only thing Charlie could remember is how old the building was,” I say. “It has to be some broken down old building.”
“And, what makes you think that they’re going to take her back to that pretty boy?” He asks.
“They’re not about to change what’s been working for them,” I tell him. “They’ve been able to get by with too much. They’re too comfortable there,” I say. “And, it’s obvious there’s zero security; no one checks around it too much.”
His silence tells me that he is thinking, but I know that when all of this is said and done, I won’t have a job. As long as I have Charlie, it’ll be worth it. “Whatever you want, whatever you need,” Wilson finally says. “We’ll get it for you. Remember, it isn’t just me anymore; Chief will have your ass, too.”
What’s new there? Wilson is on my ass half the time and the Chief the next. I thought this special assignment was going to be my big break. My chance to be something, a detective; anything but some street cop. Instead, I fell in love. I guess it’s true when they say loves makes you do crazy things.
I don’t say another word; I end the phone call and toss my phone into the empty seat next to me. I glance back for a moment, just clear enough for a U-turn. I click on my lights and head back toward the department. Without maps and plans to the city, finding Charlie would be as difficult as finding a needle in the proverbial haystack.
- 15 -
Charlie
I lie still on the cold and wet cement. At this point it is all I can muster to do anymore. I have been beaten several times by both of them. I have various cuts all over my upper and lower body. This time I can feel dribbles of blood seeping out. My hands would be aching terribly if it weren’t for the fact that they are bound so incredibly tight by the cuffs they have gone numb. My eyes are burning and swollen so badly I can’t see as well as before. My body is starting to shake uncontrollably, and I honestly can’t tell whether it’s from the cold of the cement or the pain. I groan as I move my right leg slightly. A sharp pain jolts all the way up to my hip. I lay still and quiet, fighting through the pain and I can now hear the two men arguing again. They liked to do that, it seems. Fight that is. Whenever one isn’t in here, he’s in another room with the other, fighting over who knows what. Over the sounds of their argument I can hear the sounds of other whimpers, which at least means that their other victims are still alive. I stop and listen again. This time I can hear the footsteps coming closer to me. I stare off and into the distance where I know the door is, and I can see the shadowy figure walking toward me. I shudder, as this time it seems as though there’s something shiny in his hands.
He greets me with his foot barreling into my already sore and probably broken rib cage. I groan loudly and cough as my body involuntarily jumps forward until I’m stopped by the handcuffs. I can feel them grow tighter and dig even deeper into the cuts they were already making. Now I’m really starting to believe what Carrington had said before. It was nicer last time. Last time I was so drugged up I couldn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t feel anything. Now, I’m almost wishing for the drugs.
I feel him suddenly pounce hard onto my body and knock the wind out of me. I cough hard a few times and suck in a huge gulp of air. It’s Edmunds this time. I quickly realize that he is the one with the passion for sexual humiliation. Carrington is the one who had a love of torment and torture.
“Not much of a fighter now,” he says into my ear. “Are you, sweetheart?”
I’ve honestly been beaten so terribly; fighting isn’t an option. And with Nick’s life in danger it wasn’t an option to begin with. Having Nick on my mind at this point is the only thing keeping my going.
“Bet you’re wondering how Nick is?” He asks, as he pulls on what must have been rubber gloves.
I shudder and close my eyes, but manage to nod slowly.
“He’s doing just fine,” he says. “You’ve been fairly cooperative. He’s probably wondering the same about you.” He laughs.
I feel his hands at the top of my jeans; I cringe and fight off another round of nausea. I have thrown up several times since being here. But, with how I am bound, the only thought that crosses my mind are all the drugged out rock stars who had choked to death on their own vomit. Even though, at this point, even that sounds like a more peaceful way to go. A fiery car wreck in the middle of nowhere would be more peaceful than this. This is just…this is hell.
I can now feel the button and zipper of my jeans rip down as he yanks them off my legs. I can feel the cold cement underneath me. My body begins to shiver as I feel his gloved hands run up and down my legs. He gives my right thigh an encouraging pat. “You definitely are the prettiest, and I don’t say that to all of my girls, either.”
He brings a hand up to my face. “You are very gorgeous,” he says. “Quite the prize. Andrews must be happy he landed someone like you.” He takes a long breath. “I mean, after those train wrecks before. Lucky he snagged you.” He looks down at me as though he had a thoughtful moment. “He was always one of those guys who was looking for someone in for the long haul. Blah, blah, fucking blah.” He cocks his head to the side. “What kind of man is that?”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice so low I was worried no sound actually came out.
He shrugs. “Because I can. And, I can get away with it.” He seems so confident of himself as he smiles down at me.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask. “Why me?”
He looks back down at me as I feel his hands at my panties. He takes a moment to think. “Before, it was because you are beautiful,” he says, running his hands along the lace and designs as he pushes my legs apart. “Now, it’s because Andrews wants you.”
I can feel my chin quiver. My eyes begin to well up with tears, blinding me. His touch makes me gag. I take a long breath in, swallowing hard. “What do you have against Nick?”
“The pretty boy; the one with morals. The one who wants to find the right girl; he wants marriage, a family, wants to be a detective,” he pauses. “It makes me fucking sick. I’m surprised he even jumped in the sack with you. I’m pretty sure you’re his first lay. Wonder how he’ll feel, knowing that I had you first.”
I squeeze my lips together as my tears start coming on like a waterfall. Physical torture is one thing, mental torture is another, and at times, I don’t know which is easier to cope with.
“For guys like me,” he says, “it’s hard; always been hard to get a girl. Unless you count hookers that lurk the corners.” He laughs. “I learned a few years back, sometimes it’s easier and cheaper to take the ones you want.”
I close my eyes tightly as he begins running his gloved hands up and down my bare skin. I cry harder. I feel his hands pause on my stomach.
“This isn’t so bad, now is it?” He says. “I figure I’d piss Andrews off more. Go nice and slow with you, since that seems to be his motto.”
I suddenly hear a loud, blood curdling scream. I can now feel my cries coming from the pit of my stomach as my entire body shakes.
“Ah,” he says, finally moving his hands. “Sounds like it’s my turn in the other room. I will be right back, don’t you go anywhere now.” He laughs as he stands slowly, as though taking his time, and starts making his way in another direction.
I want to curl up and not feel any of this pain. I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. With Nick. I want Nick, I need Nick. I close my eyes and imagine us the night before, lying in bed together, his arms around me. How safe I feel in his arms. How after a short month, after the worst tragedy in my life, I have fallen in love with him. I go back to our first kiss at the theater. The way he just knows how to comfort me. The way he always seems to sense that I’m troubled. I close my eyes and picture Nick.
- 16 -
Nick
I shuffle through every old map of the city, every old plan and every blueprint of old buildings that they had piled up for me. My eyes are burning as I toss another page of an unused subway plan into a useless pile. I pick up the plans to an old abandoned mill, glancing at it for a moment before deciding to toss it into the pile of places to be searched. I had nearly twenty places in the pile. Time was running out. I run my hand down my face, take a breath, and pick up the pace as I survey the last pages in the pile.
“Any luck?” I hear Wilson’s voice and a few others behind me as I concentrate on the layout of the old building.
“Plenty of places,” I tell him. “It’s just narrowing it down to one.”
“Andrews, you’re taking on the burden of at least thirty men,” he tells me. “Let the teams do their part too.”
I turn to look back at him. “You don’t understand what she means to me.”
“I do understand,” he says. “But you can’t do this on your own. It’s why we have this entire department. Countless detectives. They all have jobs to do, Andrews. I am actually trying to be nice to you, given the situation.”
I admit, he’s only tore into me a handful of times this time around. He’s pissed, make no mistake on that. He wants nothing more than my badge and my head on a silver platter at this point. But, given my closeness with Charlie, I see that he is at least trying to make an effort to give me a break. Though, I can tell, he’s about ready to bite his tongue clear off. I shuffle through and pull a small stack of maps and plans to myself and push the rest toward him. “Just help me find her.”
He nods. “You can’t do it all on your own. There’s no way you can do it on your own. One cop doesn’t control the whole city, now does he?”
While he may want my badge, I want nothing more than to smack him with the first item I can get my hands on. Though I’ve told him several times, the man just can’t grasp what she means to me. Figures; I always knew he had a black heart. I stand and grab a few papers. “I’m going to go look.”
“Andrews,” Wilson stops me, “at least wait for a team.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t have the time. I’ll radio in if I need anything.”
“You do realize I am going to have your ass for this.”
There’s no denying that. I know I will be turning in my badge as soon as this is over. My badge for Charlie, I’d say it’s worth it. I give him a nod. “But, if I find her alive, it’ll be worth it,” I shoot back as I head for the door.
* * * * * *
Outside, the sun is already beginning to set, casting a beautiful pink glow over the city. I can’t help but to think for a moment about how much Charlie would love this. My mind races as I speed through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic and past bicycles. It has to be abandoned, dark, and well secluded. Some place that people don’t go around. It has to be protected, maybe with a gate, something to keep people out. Definitely has to be in decent condition. No security at all. I glance for a moment at the pile of old papers. That rules out at least three. It’s beginning to give me a headache. I glance at the clock on my dash. They won’t keep her alive for long. They may not let her make it through the night since she’s escaped from them before.
Just think Nick. Think. Think. Think…
Suddenly, I remember an old warehouse that’s near Charlie’s apartment complex. It was used as a factory in the late 60’s, but when the company upsized they, of course, upgraded to a more modern and larger building. It was secluded, dark, and abandoned. No security and a large privacy fence that surrounded it. It had been scheduled for demolishing countless times, but due to issues that had been put off and put off again. It was perfect for Edmunds and Carrington’s ruthless scheme.
I don’t bother with my lights or sirens; I reach for my radio and request backup to the old Johnson Mill as I check my surrounding and turn around in the middle of the street. She had to be at the old Johnson Mill. How else could Edmunds know we had gon
e to my apartment?
I park a couple blocks away and run toward the old warehouse. I pull my gun out and switch the safety off as I come to the fenced in grounds of the abandoned factory. Like I had suspected, two vehicles are parked on the grounds just behind the chain link fence and partially hidden by an old dumpster. Though I’ve never seen them before, I can bet money on who they belong to. I walk up to the gate and try to break the rusty lock before giving up. I tuck my gun away momentarily as I work at climbing over the fence. I crouch down behind the cars as I pull out my gun once more. More than likely both men will be inside.
Next to the building I listen closely, straining my ears in the quiet for any signs of life. Almost immediately, I hear a faint whimper. A whimper that can easily be Charlie. I take a long breath in and exhale it slowly. I don’t know what condition she’s in or what they did to her. I don’t even know that the whimper is her or that she’s even alive. I don’t know if I’ll be able to see her like this…after all we’ve been through. I snap out of it and I move slightly as I search the whole front of the building. I soon run into a pair of low voices. Edmunds and Carrington. I strain my ears to catch what they’re saying as I spot a window, that can only lead to the basement, that’s cracked open enough to where I can slide my body inside. For a brief moment, I hear one of them raise their voice.
“We have to act now!” He says. “I’m not sitting around with Andrews on our tail. You know he doesn’t give a fuck what Wilson or the Chief says; he’s got it too bad for this chick. You’ll kill her and you’ll kill her now.”
Charlie.
I move quickly to the window and wiggle my body inside it. I drop off a few feet into a dark, damp, and musty basement. The cement is wet, pipes are leaky, and the smell of blood is strong in the air. The space I’m in is both large and empty. Broken shelves and glass shards are scattered on the floor. Dirt and garbage are lying everywhere. I move to a doorway and check an adjoining room. This one is smaller, but also empty. I pass through it to yet another door. It’s shut and presumably locked. I make my way over to the large door and give it a push. To my surprise, the old door creaks open slowly and I urge it open enough to slide my body through. Another dirty room like the others, but this time I see Charlie’s bare body, handcuffed to one of the old pipes. I see her arms are hanging from her head as the rest of her lies on the cold and wet cement. I can tell now that she’s lying in her bra and panties and covered in cuts and bruises. I can’t even tell that’s she’s breathing. I feel my heart shatter and fear course through my body. Finally, she lets out a weak whimper as she gives her left hand a wiggle.
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