Vanished (A Born Bayou Novella)

by Suzanne Steele

  I look up at him, and he’s staring at me.

  “Regardless to what happens, I’ll never forget this moment.”

  My heart rate speeds up as he stalks his way over towards me. His large hand fists a handful of my hair at the nape of my neck tilting my head just enough to give him access to my neck. His teeth nip just hard enough to give me goosebumps. He continues until he stops at the sweet spot between my shoulder and neck.

  “This is not normal, it’s crazy. I can’t be bonding with a man who’s holding me hostage.”

  “Welcome to my normal.”

  He pushes me to the grassy knoll over to the side of us and begins pulling my jeans off.

  “What if somebody comes?”

  “Somebody’s going to come alright.”

  He hooks his arms around my legs pulling me towards him and dips his tongue into my already moist pussy.

  “What are you doing to me?” I groan in exasperation. I move my head back and forth in the soft grass as if it will clear it.

  He looks up at me smiling from between my legs. “I’m eating you alive.” I close my eyes giving into the sensations. His lips pull with perfect pressure while his tongue explores and tastes my excitement for him. The man knows my body like nobody ever has. He knows it because he’s taken the time to know it. Any other man I’ve ever been with only seemed to be concerned with their own pleasure. This man is more concerned about pleasing me than pleasing himself. My body rocks in ecstasy, giving way to an orgasm. It’s like there’s so many sensations I’m feeling that it’s overwhelming, and the result is me exploding in ecstasy. This is the way sex is supposed to be—a real connection. Whether it makes sense or not, it’s real. Everything else in my life is a façade, a media image, but not this, not him.

  I watch as he quickly takes his jeans off and gets on top of me. This time he grabs two handfuls of hair on each side of my head forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “Keep your fucking eyes open. I want you to see who’s fucking you—I want you to see me making you mine.”

  His thrusts are strong like a man with purpose. I look at him like I’m offering up a dare—a dare to prove to me that he’s predator and I’m prey.

  “You’re playing with fire, girl. I’ll consume you and burn up every bit of desire to get away from me that you have. You’re fucking with my head. Don’t ever be naïve enough to believe there’ll be no consequences for that. If you want out, you better get out now before it’s too late.”

  “Shut-up and fuck me!”

  He peels my legs back like he’s folding a piece of paper and pounds into someplace so deep within me I feel like I’m going to explode. And then…. that’s exactly what I do.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bo

  We’ve spent a month up on this mountain poring over every detail of those files. It feels like it’s been a lifetime of doing whatever we want, whenever we feel like it. I stopped making her sleep in chains after two weeks of her being here. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but I can’t do anything about those bitches, Destiny and Fate.

  I look up at her where she’s sitting on the bed with my computer looking up information on Donald Marks. It’s odd to me how a man I hate is the one responsible for bringing her into my life. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My hate for him is only escalating because he could very well be the one responsible for me losing her too. I hate the idea of him having that much power. It’s like he has this way of imposing on people’s lives without their permission.

  “It’s time to make a move, babe. We’ve researched this guy to death. Once something has been researched, it doesn’t need to be researched excessively or it gets confusing.”

  “I wish it was that easy—killing him.” She takes her glasses off pulling her long hair to one side of her shoulder. So damn sexy and doesn’t even try to be. “You’re staring.” She remarks looking at me like she’s wondering what I’m thinking.

  I lean forward in the chair I’m seated in resting my elbows on my knees. I run my thumb over my bottom lip thinking about how I’m going to say what I want to say to her.

  “What?!? You’re making me nervous,” she says, setting the computer to the side.

  “Things change out there.” I nod my head towards the heavy timber wood door.

  “I know… lions and tigers and bears, oh my.” She daintily places her hand over her lips dramatically making a perfect O with her mouth.

  “I’m serious, Ashleigh. You’ve been in a bubble—protected by me.”

  “Now that’s funny. I’m being protected by the man who abducted me and put me in chains.”

  “It’s easy to fall for somebody when the world isn’t trying to tear you down. You’ve had nobody but me up on this mountain.”

  “Oh… so you’ve fallen for me. Okay…”

  I leap from the chair over to where she’s seated so fast she never sees it coming. I clamp my hand around her throat and hiss—“Mine! You got it?” Her eyes look like saucers, they’re so wide. She’s shaking her head yes, trying to avoid my glare. “Don’t fuckin’ look away from me. Her eyes automatically lock back onto mine. I know she’s doing it out of fear, but I don’t care. I’ll take anything I can get right now. What I won’t allow to happen is losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  “I’m going after your boss tomorrow. There’s no backing out for you. You can’t say you want out after you witness me put a bullet in his brain. Killing somebody’s different than talking about it. Guilt always comes for normal people, and it eats at you until you’ll do anything to make it stop.”

  She grabs my hand at the wrist pulling it away from her throat.

  “What’s the fallout for you—after you kill?”

  “Elation. I relive it over and over in my mind, savoring every morbid detail, until the next time.”

  “And yet you assume I’ll feel guilt when I’m not even the one doing the killing. You don’t know how I’ll react.”

  “I know unless you’re as fucked up in the head as I am, it won’t be whatever you’ve cooked up in that pretty little head of yours.”

  “Then don’t kill him. Have him locked up and let somebody else do your dirty work.”

  “The longer he’s alive the more chance there is he’ll talk. I can tell you right now if it comes down to me or him, it won’t be me going down.”

  “Don’t you mean if it comes down to your family or him?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Ashleigh

  “Go to sleep Ashleigh.”

  It isn’t just his voice that’s cold, it’s his body language. He just turned over with his back to me—nothing says I love you like a cold shoulder—pun intended. I’m not sure what’s going on in his head right now. This is the first time since he brought me here that I’ve felt a complete disconnect.

  Fuck him. I’m not going to be that girl—the needy gravelling woman who tries to make everything in his world okay.

  I’m the one who’s been taken out of my comfort zone. I swear if I could kick my own ass I would. How I could let myself care about the demise of him or his family is a mystery to me.

  It’s like he came in like some force of nature I had no defense against. Yeah… I probably am taking offense at his flakiness.

  He doesn’t know it yet, but when we go back to Louisville, I’m staying. He can go kill my boss by himself, and then he doesn’t have to worry about my guilt complex. Asshole.

  Truth be told, it’s me I’m pissed at. I went from having a job and a shot at a good career to not knowing what my future holds. I’m sick of everybody but me controlling my life. I’m going back home and working on getting my life back—the one he and my boss took without my permission.

  I wait until I hear his steady breathing and then get up and go into the guest bedroom. I can’t sleep in this awkward atmosphere. I toss and turn until I finally drift off into a fitful sleep. Even though I’m excited about getting back home, I’m n
ot sure what awaits me. I don’t like uncertainty. I like control, and as soon as the sun comes up, I’m getting mine back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bo

  I sit across the street from the television station and wait for the man who has been causing me nothing but problems for the last six months. Because I’ve been babysitting him, I haven’t been able to go home for three months. First it was trips back and forth, and then it was my daddy telling me I had to stay. I’m not a city boy, and I’m going to make this dipshit pay for disrupting my life.

  When I woke up this morning and couldn’t find her… I had an epiphany. I’ve been going at this all wrong. It’s time to change tactics.

  I sit up straight when I see him coming out of the station. He’s looking around and then back over his shoulder like he’s nervous. I’ve noticed that about guys like him who are trying to play both sides of the fence, they’re always scared. They don’t know which side they’re going to get it from, the criminals, or the law, but that fear lodges in their heart and takes over. Serves him right for trying to fuck everybody over.

  I follow him when he gets in his car and takes off down Mellwood Avenue. He’s still looking around like he’s scared. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not the only one after a piece of his hide. Hey, that’s an idea, I could skin him alive.

  I follow him to 7th Street. From there I know where he’s going. The whole strip is nothing but strip joints for miles. I wait until he’s in an area with no traffic and no people around. He’s never seen me up until now; my father insisted. Today that decision will work towards my advantage.

  I tap his bumper with my car purposely. It works out perfect when he pulls over to an abandon building that is no doubt a strip joint that didn’t make it in the past. The discolored bricks and overhanging sign’s missing letters that spell Mis Foy’s, that I’m pretty sure at one time spelled Miss Foxy’s, give testimony to a failing business. I guess the old saying sex sells isn’t always a definitive.

  He makes his way back to my car with an irritated look on his face, and an even more irritated tone. “Look, I’m in a hurry. Let’s just get information exchanged. How the hell could you not see me anyway?”

  “Oh, I saw you.” I get out of the car and eye him. “I have something I think you need to see.” Aww, there it is… the fear in his eyes. I have to admit, I like it. I watch his face as I open the trunk and it is priceless.

  “Who- who are you?” He stutters.

  “I think who are you is the question. I mean, you present yourself as a white collar big-wig of a major television station, but I think we both know your life is one big lie. It would be in your best interest to follow me.”

  Ashleigh

  The duct tape on my wrists and ankles makes my attempts to kick out the brake lights impossible. The gag in my mouth, secured with an overlay of duct tape, makes my screams nothing more than a muffled umph. The more I kick and scream the madder I get.

  I’m confused and then relieved when I feel a jolt. I realize the car I’m in has hit something. I pray we wrecked, because it means I get help in the form of the accident victim.

  I can hear voices, but they aren’t close enough for me to make out the conversation. Because I can’t hear them, I decide to start kicking and screaming again. The voices get closer, and I’m horrified when the trunk is opened and I’m looking into the face of the man who started all this.

  Now I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and kicking like I’m fighting for my life. I’m horrified when Bo barely looks at me and slams the trunk like it’s no big deal. I’m so pissed I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel the tears flowing from anger, not sadness. I’ll kill them both if I come out of this alive.

  I try to count the turns and keep track of where the vehicle is headed, but I lost my way fifteen minutes into this escapade. How in the hell did I go from being a career woman to this?

  Finally, after what seems like forever, we arrive at our destination—wherever that is. When the trunk opens again, my fear escalates. I’m in the middle of nowhere with two very unpredictable men, one of which would have no problem seeing me dead to hide his secrets, and the other who’s well… capable of pulling off the job for him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bo

  I’ve gone too far to go back now. I snatch her up from the open trunk and toss her over one shoulder. She’s kicking like a wild woman, and she only gets madder when I smack her on her tight ass. Her jeans are tight and I know she feels the sting because it shocks her into reality. I know because she’s turning her head from side to side trying to figure out where she is. Good luck with that.

  I wait until we get into my daddy’s warehouse, and I plop her down on the concrete floor to address Donald.

  “You owe my daddy a lot of money. I got a hold of your books you’ve been cooking when I caught her stealing them.”

  Donald doesn’t address me. He immediately lunges in her direction and she manages to thrash, kicking him in his shin. “You little bitch! You thieving little bitch”—he repeats, as he jumps back rubbing at his shin.

  “Not so quick buddy. You don’t get access to her until I get the information I want. I gotta problem with the fact you’re using my daddy’s business to funnel your money. Now, just how many copies of those records do you have?”

  “Just this…” he reaches in his pocket pulling out a flash drive.

  Bingo.

  I don’t waste anytime snatching it from his hand and placing it in my pocket. I reach down and rip the duct tape from Ashley’s lips, and she goes berserk.

  “You fucking traitor. I trusted you when I gave you that information on him. If it wasn’t for me, your whole family would be in a lot of shit right now.”

  “I think she’s mad at you.” Donald smirks.

  “Fuck you too you dirt bag. All this… over a piece of ass. I shouldn’t have to pay penance because you can’t get laid without blackmailing a woman.” She snarls at Donald.

  The look on his face tells me she’s hit a nerve.

  “Why don’t you let me kill her?” He questions me.

  “You don’t have the nerve to kill me you ball-less bastard. You have to have cojones to kill somebody. Cut me loose, you traitor”—she whips her head around addressing me—“Cut this tape off and I’ll beat his ass.”

  Even Donald looks scared. His body language says it all when he backs away from her like he’s scared she’ll get loose on her own.

  I reach down putting the tape back over her mouth and securing another strip on top for good measure. It takes some jumping around to keep from getting kicked, but I manage. This girl is pissed. I can’t blame her. I was never supposed to get attached—which makes this a hell of a lot harder.

  I direct my attention back towards the man who’s the cause of this mess. He doesn’t know it, but I’m far from finished with him.

  I take the knife from my back pocket and begin toying with it.

  “Hey- hey- hey- wai- wait a minute.” His stutter has me wondering if he’s going to piss his pants, and I haven’t even done anything yet. He’ll be cleaning it up if he does—with his tongue.

  “My patience with you ran out a long time ago.” I don’t even bother looking at him as I continue. “If I find out you’ve got more paperwork with anybody in my family’s name on it, I’ll gut you like a pig—same damn difference to me. Now get the fuck out of here!” I find myself being glad he followed me in his car, because right now I want to kill something—I need to kill him. His day’s coming. There are too many loose ends that could lead back to us, and my daddy would have my hide if I went against his orders to wait.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” I restrain the desire to send my razor sharp knife sailing through the air and into his ribs.

  He’s at the door when he whines like a little bitch. “What about her?”

  My vacant stare must say it all because it only takes a couple of seconds for him to realize he better get out whi
le he can.

  I wait until I hear his car start up and drive away before I pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, and throw her in the back of my trunk.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashleigh

  It has taken me a week to even begin to process the activities of the last month. It’s amazing how your world can be turned upside down so quickly. It always happens when you least expect it too.

  I’m pushing a lot out of my head to just to keep on top of the madness. I suppose I have no one to blame for getting into this mess. The heart wants what the heart wants and it seldom listens to the voice of reason.

  I think that’s what makes it difficult, the not knowing where my future’s headed. I pride myself on being in control of my destiny by making the right decisions. I’ve always been of the belief that if you make the right decisions—follow the rules, that you can expect good results. Perhaps I’ve been naïve in my beliefs.

  The doorbell ringing pulls me out of my self-reflection. I’m shocked when I open it and view who’s standing there.

  “Seriously!?! You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve coming by here, and with flowers. You’ve got to be kidding.” I jerk the roses Bo’s holding and throw them at him. He sticks his big ass biker boot in the doorway so my attempt at slamming the door in his face fails.

  “You’re gonna talk to me, girl.”

  “I don’t owe you a damn thing. You backstabbed me and we both know it. Anything we ever had is over—without trust, there’s nothing, no friendship and no relationship. I’m just pissed at myself for ever letting you into my life. I can’t believe I was so stupid. The only good thing about all of this is you can take your ass back to the Bayou, and you won’t be in my city.

  “Goodbye, Bo. Like I said: without trust, you got nothing.”

  I watch him as he shakes his head and turns making his way down the sidewalk. I wait until he’s in his car and driving away to shut the door and lock it. I don’t even bother to pick up the pile of broken roses at my feet. Maybe the wind will blow them off the doorstep and take away any remembrance of all this craziness.