In Ruins

by Danielle Pearl

  “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” My mother’s voice is far too calm—her confidence filling me with unease.

  Zayne chuckles. “I have you at several, in fact.”

  My mother expresses her displeasure with a stretch of silence. “Indeed,” she concedes. “And what would you have me call you?”

  “I don’t suppose it matters much. Why don’t you call me Sir.” He shoots me a smirk.

  “Hmmph.” Unsurprisingly, my mother does not comply. “Well, it seems you are right. You do have me at several disadvantages. You see, I want my daughter back—unharmed—and you want an exorbitant amount of money.”

  “Well, we can’t put a price on those we love, can we?” Zayne mocks her.

  “Well, no,” my mother agrees. “I cannot. But it seems you have. And while there’s no amount of money I wouldn’t give for my daughter’s safety, unfortunately you’ve chosen a number we simply don’t have.”

  I stop breathing. There’s a violent commotion in the background that fades with the slam of a door. Vaguely we hear Billy and Tucker yelling frantically and banging their fists from the other side of what must be a locked door, but my mother seems to pay them no mind.

  Zayne seems equally shocked by my mother’s response, and with each passing moment his expression morphs that much more into anger.

  “You seem to be familiar with my family’s financial strain. It’s all a matter of public record, after all. I assume you’ve done your homework…”

  Zayne makes some affirmative grunting sound.

  “You communicated to Tucker Green that you believe we have hidden assets in the way of twenty million dollars, and while I certainly wish that were true, unfortunately it couldn’t be further from reality.”

  Zayne’s eyes narrow, and I wish I could shout at my mother to shut up. But he has never looked more threatening, and I’m afraid if I so much as open my mouth, he might change his mind and kill me after all.

  “I’ve just spoken to my husband, whom you are aware is in prison. As we speak, he is calling in favors from family and old associates, and will collect loans totaling five million dollars. I will wire that amount into the account of your choosing before your deadline.”

  “Five million,” Zayne breathes incredulously.

  “It is a great deal of money,” my mother says proudly. “Once it’s wired, I expect my daughter—”

  “Give the phone to Tucker Green,” Zayne says softly, employing a cryptic calm that unnerves me far more than his anger ever did.

  My mother startles. “Excuse me? Did you hear what I said?”

  “Indeed I did. Now hand the phone to Mr. Green. Immediately. Or you will hear your daughter scream.”

  My mother’s gasp is audible, and my heart pounds in terror.

  We know my mother has opened the door when Billy’s and Tucker’s voices grow in volume. They’re shouting, and cursing, and threatening my mother, but I fear it’s too late—the damage is done.

  “Hello?” Tucker says frantically. “Don’t listen to her. We’ll—”

  “You’ll do what?” Zayne cuts him off. “It isn’t your money. Nicole Stanger must access and wire it. Your job was to make sure she understood her role and took it seriously. But apparently neither of you realizes quite how serious I am.”

  “I do!” Tucker says in desperation. “I fucking told her! I’ll talk to Carl’s dad myself. She wouldn’t let me explain things to him. But I—”

  “I was clear about my terms being non-negotiable, but it seems you need a lesson in what happens when I am not taken seriously.”

  “Don’t hurt her,” Tucker begs. “I swear to God—”

  “God isn’t interested and neither am I, Mr. Green. You knew the stakes, and if you ever want to see your precious Princess again, you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  My eyes blur in a well of tears that I refuse to let fall, but I start trembling uncontrollably. I can’t know for sure what he means to do, but I suspect. He hinted at it earlier.

  I’m not going to fuck you, Carleigh…Not unless I have to.

  Zayne looks at me meaningfully, and I’m idly aware he hasn’t ended the call. “I’m afraid you might have been right, Carleigh. I may have overestimated Tucker Green’s feelings for you, after all.”

  “Please just let me go. Please,” I plead with him.

  “I can’t do that, sweetheart. I’ve been consistently clear from the outset, have I not? The only way you walk out of here alive and free is if I get my money, on time. And not five fucking million. But this brazen attempt at negotiating the amount?” He shakes his head in disapproval. “It must hurt—his willingness to risk your life like that.”

  Tucker’s angry voice thunders in the background, but I’m too distressed to make out his words. It doesn’t matter, though. I know it was my mother who chose to risk my life, not Tucker.

  “Clearly he did not effectively communicate my demands. But what it shows me is that Tucker and your mother, or whoever’s asinine idea this negotiation was, doesn’t quite understand the seriousness of your predicament.”

  “I know you’re serious,” I assure him. “Please. I told you—the money—”

  “But I’m not a man who gives up easily. And there are ways to prove my commitment to this plan without killing you, and my money with you.” His gaze rakes my body with carnal intent, and my eyes widen in horror.

  I shake my head madly in denial.

  But his eyes are grave and resigned, and without so much as a nod of confirmation I know what he’s about to do, and I can do nothing to stop him.

  I start begging anyway.

  Zayne pushes the table from beside the window to the foot of the bed, enables the video feature on the app on his phone, and sets it on the table, facing the bed. The camera can clearly see me, tied to the bed, shaking and furiously trying to hold back tears. But Zayne makes sure only his back is visible, and though I silently will him to accidentally turn and show Tucker his face, I already know he will be too careful for that. Idly I consider shouting his identity, but he will kill me then; I know it.

  I thrash and twist hysterically as he climbs over me, my wrists burning against their binds, my legs kicking wildly as my only defense.

  “No, no, no!” I plead over and over, only vaguely aware of Tucker’s continued furious bellowing through the phone—vicious threats and violent promises. But they’re just that. Words. Because here, in this impersonal room, with just this heartless man, I am truly alone. No one will come to my rescue. The only hope I have at salvation is myself—a girl tied to a bed, kicking in vain at an enemy I never earned.

  Zayne’s large hands grip my hips in an effort to still me, and my pleading turns into rage as I begin to sling threats of my own. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me, you bastard!”

  I’m grabbed and shoved so hard against the mattress that it knocks the air from my lungs, briefly shocking me still. But it only galvanizes me, and my knee makes contact with Zayne’s rib.

  He reacts with a wince and an oomph, but it’s only a momentary reprieve, and it isn’t like I can use it to get away, not with my arms restrained like they are.

  I cry out as I take a backhand to the face, so hard my entire head jerks sideways, and stars dance behind my vision.

  “Stop this, Carleigh! You’re not going anywhere—you know that. Stop being stupid.”

  “Let her go, you motherfucker!” Tucker roars. “Leave her alone! Leave her the fuck alone!”

  “I didn’t want to have to do this,” Zayne says to both me and the phone with a sincerity that nauseates me. “But at the same time, I think a part of me did hope I’d be given a reason to punish you,” he admits. “You are exceptionally attractive. Like I said, I get the appeal.”

  He looks around the room with a strange nostalgia. “And how fitting that it should happen where it all began.”

  What does that even mean? He’s crazier than I thought, and it’s a frightening realizati
on.

  He reaches for the buttons of my top. I try kicking him again, but he pulls a knife from his pocket and switches it open in one quick motion, holding it to my throat. I gasp, freezing in place.

  “Now that that’s settled,” he murmurs.

  I want to growl more threats, sling more curses, but they lodge painfully in my throat. Instead I focus every effort on keeping the river trying to rush from my eyes securely dammed. My failure at this is my greatest shame. I hate crying, and Tucker is the only person I’ve ever given my tears to. He deserved them. He was worthy of them. Unlike this fucking monster.

  I don’t so much as breathe as Zayne uses the knife to fling the buttons from my shirt, drawing it open.

  “If you kick me again, I will repay you in kind with this.” He holds up the knife. “Do you understand?”

  I don’t nod. I don’t give him the satisfaction. But he accepts my compliance anyway. He lifts my skirt, bunching it around my waist, leaving my white lace panties exposed.

  I hear my mother weeping softly now behind the record of Tucker’s fury, and even her reaction sounds contrived. I focus on Tucker’s words, clinging to his promise that my kidnapper will pay for this with his life.

  Zayne starts removing his own clothing, but he stops to retrieve the phone from the table. Careful not to show his identity, he aims it down at my distraught face as he climbs purposefully atop my body, straddling me. And then without warning, he ends both the call and the video.

  But even as I lose the comfort of Tucker’s rage, I also can’t help but be thankful that he will be spared the visual of what is about to happen, even if I don’t know why. I can only assume Zayne wants privacy for his own lustful pursuits, and I close my eyes for whatever he’s about to do, my mind traveling far away from my present, chasing Tucker’s voice and a memory of a better time, when there wasn’t a monster using me as a means to a nefarious end, and when Tucker was still my future.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Tucker

  Present Day

  My chest explodes in agony, and for the first time since my father died, tears leak from my eyes.

  Some bastard is going to rape Carl, and there isn’t shit I can do to stop him.

  Billy stares at me with wide, horror-filled eyes, and I can’t meet them. I can’t offer him any comfort. Instead I turn to Carl’s mother, whose tears may be real, but they are far too few, far too late, and all I want to do is shout at her again that this is all her goddamn fault.

  But Carl’s kidnapper was right. I am just as much to blame. I knew what kind of person Nicole was, and I still allowed her to talk to her husband and decide on a course of action without me. Yes, she was adamant that it wasn’t my place to explain things to Carl’s dad, but I could have insisted. I should have insisted. But I never guessed she planned to negotiate Carl’s fucking price tag as if she was some prize racehorse.

  I’m afraid you might have been right, I may have overestimated Tucker Green’s feelings for you, after all.

  It was like a blade to the chest, effectively slicing my heart right open. She doubted me. She doubted me because I gave her good reason to doubt me, and now she’s suffering. Being touched by another man for the first time. Being violated.

  Fuck! I can’t just stand around waiting. I have to do something.

  I decide to call Cap. I didn’t call him earlier because I was afraid he’d insist on calling the police, but I can’t handle this on my own anymore.

  He answers on the second ring, and I start rambling like a madman. I tell him what happened from the moment I got the photo of Carl, tied to a bed, utterly terrified.

  I tell him everything her kidnapper said to me, about selling her into the motherfucking sex trade if we don’t meet his deadline, and killing her if we report it. I explain Nicole’s disgusting attempt at a negotiation, and my voice cracks as I try to find words to describe his retaliation.

  “He’s hurting her, man. Right fucking now. And I can’t do jack shit to stop it!” I choke on a sob.

  I cry like a little bitch as Cap tries to help me think things through, but no matter what angle we approach it from, it just doesn’t make any goddamn sense.

  Cap has his car with him in the city, and making an excuse to Rory, he promises to meet me here as fast as possible. I know how much he hates lying to his girl, but Carl’s one of her best friends, and she doesn’t need to hear this shit. It’s not like there’s anything she can do to help right now.

  I end the call, and try to think of what to do next. But there’s nothing. Fucking nothing I can do to help my girl. My girl, who’s currently under fucking attack—being tortured, violated and defiled. My legs give out, and I slide to the floor, dropping my head in my hands.

  I think about what Cap said—about how I must know the guy. Enough that he knows what Carl means to me. It’s a thought I’ve had before. Because he didn’t just randomly decide to contact me over going directly to Carl’s family—no, that was a calculated maneuver. But who the hell do I know who would do something like this?

  My first thought was Ben, but he doesn’t know anything about Carl’s family. Still, I called him last night, and the background noise supported his claim that he was out in a crowded bar with four of our teammates. Two of those teammates also confirmed it when I called them to follow up.

  No one has heard from Carl since we left her at that office building, including Zayne, who this morning responded to my second e-mail asking if he’d seen her, saying he hadn’t—that he was busy grading final papers, and that he’d let me know if he hears from her.

  I think again about calling the police. He could be lying about having mechanisms in place to alert him if we do. But I can’t risk it—not with Carl’s life at stake.

  I grilled Nicole about potential suspects, but it’s hard to narrow down a list of enemies for someone like William Stanley, a man who has more than he will probably ever know. She also pointed out that I am as good a suspect as any, and that if I wasn’t standing right next to her, I would have been her best guess. We made no progress whatsoever, and no matter how I rack my brain even now, I can’t think of anyone I might know who would do this.

  Kidnap. Threaten murder.

  Rape.

  My heart clenches painfully in my chest. How will Carl ever get over this? My beautiful, strong girl, reduced to a helpless victim, at the mercy of some sick fuck. It will forever scar her, and that’s if she survives.

  A shrill ringing echoes from Carl’s bedroom, and I jump up and rush inside to find Nicole answering her cell. She looks at me warily, and I know it’s him. I know it’s the motherfucking asshole who ruined my father, and who just risked his daughter’s life to save some fucking money. I march over to her and snatch the phone from her hands. She doesn’t even try to stop me. I think I’m starting to scare her a little. Well, good.

  “…Nik? Is she okay? Did you speak to her?”

  “You motherfucker,” I growl.

  “Tucker?”

  Apparently his wife has ensured I need no introduction. “How could you?”

  “Did you talk to Carleigh? Is she okay?” Will Stanley sounds nothing like I imagined—the pompous millionaire businessman who cares about nothing but his money. He sounds desperate, and small, and frightened, and it takes me aback.

  “No,” I grate, barely able to unclench my teeth enough to form words. “She’s not fucking okay!”

  “What—”

  “How could you choose your money over your own fucking child?” I try to focus on my anger, but my voice cracks, and it’s all I can do not to fucking cry like a damned child again.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “You had your wife offer five million dollars for her? Your daughter’s life is something you bargain with?”

  “What? No. That wasn’t the plan. She was supposed to wire twenty million.”

  Huh?

  I glare at Nicole, who is trembling with anxiety and shame, and I know. She riske
d Carl all on her own.

  “Well, your wife went rogue, and told your daughter’s kidnapper she would only pay five million.”

  “Shit.”

  “The bastard rejected the offer.”

  “Oh, God. Carleigh.” His voice trembles with horror.

  “He was concerned we weren’t taking him seriously. He decided to force himself on Carl to make a point.”

  Silence. Not even a breath.

  “Did you hear me?”

  A broken sob echoes through the phone, echoing my own sentiment.

  “You tell Nicole I’m going to kill her! That’s it! I’m fucking done.”

  “Give her the wire instructions, and tell her to wire the full amount,” I demand.

  “She already has access to everything! All of the accounts. She has for years.”

  I turn to face Nicole. If a glare could be used as a weapon, she would be riddled with wounds right now. “She’s had access to the money this whole time…” Motherfucker. She’s had the power to end this all along. Wire the ransom and be done with it. But she acted like she couldn’t do anything without her husband—that he was the only one with full access.

  “Damn it, Tucker, you have to get my little girl back!”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do!” I roar. But I’m confused. Because the newspaper articles made it sound like he refused to return the money against the will of everyone around him. That he opted to do significantly more time in favor of holding on to as much money as possible. But if Carl’s dad cares so much about his little girl, why wouldn’t he have taken the plea deal with the shorter sentence so he could be with her?

  “Why didn’t you just give it back? The money, I mean. Wouldn’t you already be out of there? Don’t you want to be with your family?”

  “Of course I do…more than anything.” He sounds so sincere.

  “She needed you,” I tell him. “Carl. Billy, too. She needs you. Not just now that there’s some psycho threatening her life. She needed a father.”’

  “She had Nicole. She had means—”

  “Nicole Stanger is no fucking parent.”