by V. E. Avance
He crushes the cigarette in the ashtray and downs the whiskey before him. He swipes his mouth of the drops of amber colored drink. He rises from his seat and makes his way out of the bar—never taking his eyes off of Leanna. It won’t be long now and you’ll be mine again. And this time, I’ll never let you out of my sight.
***
James helps Leanna across the threshold. She’s drunk—to the point she can barely stand on her own two feet. A piece of her hair falls in her face and she blows it away only for it to fall back in the same place. She puckers her lips out as she crosses her eyes and stares at her nose, looking at the piece of hair hanging over her face. James stifles a laugh.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get you to bed,” he motions her toward the stairs.
“I don’t wanna go to sleep,” she stomps down her right foot before swaying from side to side.
James’ eyebrows rise as a devilish grin spreads across his face. “Oh, I didn’t say we were going to sleep,” he wiggles his eyebrows before swooping her off her feet and over his shoulder.
Leanna squeals all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom. James lays her down with a gentle thud and holds himself above her with his forearms. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers as he pushes back her hair from her face. “I can’t believe you landed in my lap. I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you but I’d do it a million times over to keep you.”
His lips gently touch hers as she relaxes on the bed. He brings his knee up between her legs and parts them. A deep, sultry moan escapes her mouth as he leans down and nips at her neck. His hands begin to push up her white, silk blouse and matching bra. Her plump breasts bounce out of their containment and James’ eyes dance with excitement.
Her luscious curves and writhing body make his cock hard against his denim jeans. A groan escapes him as his mouth latches onto one of her perky nipples. She arches her back and James makes quick work of removing her pants.
Her panties are damp and the smell, the sweetness, makes his cock throb with pain. His pants are off and in a crumpled heap on the floor within a heartbeat. He groans as he sinks himself, balls deep, into her. “My God,” he pants. “You feel so good. You’re so tight and wet.”
Leanna arches herself off the bed with each movement. James knows that this escapade is going to be a quick one. She bites her bottom lip and leans her head back as her body begins to convulse. Three more pumps and James is at his climax.
As they come off their ecstasy high, he rolls over to his side and draws Leanna to him. He breathes in her scent; their scent. A smile forms as he begins to stroke her head as she nestles her cheek against his side. I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman, but I never plan on letting her go. He closes his eyes and embraces the moment.
Twenty One
Leanna’s paying the pied piper for her drunken adventure last night. After spending several hours curled around the toilet, the headache made its appearance and hasn’t let up since. James was sweet during all of it. He held her hair as she upchucked everything she had drunk and ate at the Double Deuce Bar and Grill and then he carried her to bed sometime after she was done.
James had pleaded with her to stay home from work but she didn’t want to get into the habit of calling off; especially over something she’d done to herself. She slept until an hour prior to the start of her shift then she pumped herself full of caffeine and greasy foods. She wasn’t sure if she’d make it through her eight hour shift, but she did and now she was heading home.
As she pulls in the drive, she notices that James has forgotten to leave the porch light on for her. Hmm, strange, she thinks as she puts the car in park and unbuckles her seatbelt. Maybe he was in a rush and just forgot to turn it on.
She makes her way to the front door and inserts her key. Silence! Normally, Patches would be barking and whimpering on the other side of the door. But tonight, it was eerily quiet—too quiet. Something inside Leanna tells her to retreat back to her car and call James, but she pushes that voice down and shakes off her fear.
She turns the key and pushes the door open. She slides her hand along the wall, looking for the light switch. “Don’t turn the light on,” a voice sounds out. A voice Leanna is very familiar with.
“Mark?” Her heart races and sweat beads across her forehead.
A hand grabs her wrist and jerks her forward. “Miss me, bitch?” He squeezes her wrist as he breathes into her ear. Musky, stale beer fills the air between them as his breath envelopes her. Her stomach lurches.
“Mark, what….how did….why are you here?” She stumbles through the questions that race through her head.
“I’m here to take back what’s mine.” Leanna feels a sharp pinch in her neck before her world goes dark.
Twenty Two
James arrives home from work excited to lie down next to Leanna and sleep for a few hours before she has to get up for her shift. Since meeting her, he’s not wanted to go out with his buddies without her. She’s opened his eyes to a whole new world. Through her, he’s discovered that what he had with Rebecca was never love; lust maybe, but love it was not.
He drops his bag on the floor and hangs his department issued jacket on the coat rack. He makes his way to the kitchen for a quick bite of breakfast before he races upstairs. As he circles the island, his heart begins to beat out of control and his parasympathetic nervous system goes haywire.
Patches lies on the kitchen floor with a blood pool around him. The dog, James’ best friend, lies dead—long dead. Fear, worry and anger wrack his body. He wants to rush to his buddy’s side, but he knows this is a crime scene. His only thought now is to find Leanna and pray like hell she didn’t succumb to the same fate at Patches.
He unholsters his department issued Glock .40 and pushes the button on his two way radio on his shoulder. “11-99, 11-99,” he breathes into the mic, indicating that he needs assistance. He knows that his brothers and sisters in blue will be on their way.
His radio crackles and the dispatcher comes on. “11-99 to residence, 459 Wild Horse.” James’ heart continues beating but he knows that dispatch has all officers in route. Because he had checked off duty, the dispatcher knew his location.
He draws his weapon out front and begins to clear all the rooms downstairs. He wants to race to their bedroom. He wants to see Leanna there and safe but he has to stay calm and in full cop-mode.
With the lower portion of the house cleared, he hears the sound of his fellow officers’ patrol cars racing down his dirt drive. Gravel pings and the tires squeal to a halt. He exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when his front door flies open.
He’s face to face with his friend, Wyatt Jones. “Hey, are you okay?” He asks, his gun drawn in the same manner as James.
“Patches…he’s dead,” he nods his head toward the kitchen. “I haven’t found Leanna yet.” Panic invades his voice. He fears the worst has happened to her. Of all the training and all the calls he’s been on, he’s never felt this scared in his entire life.
Wyatt looks over and see’s Patches lying in a puddle of his own blood—tongue hanging out and eyes wide open. He shakes his head and turns back to James. “Has the upstairs been secure?”
James shakes his head, tears perforating his eyes. “I just cleared the downstairs.”
More officers file into his home. “Go secure upstairs,” Wyatt motions the three uniform officers upstairs.
Wyatt walks James outside as to not contaminate the scene. “What’s going on here?” Wyatt queries, feeling as if he may be missing something. “Did you and Leanna have a fight or something?”
James straightens up quickly with a look of confusion spreading across his face. “What? No! We didn’t have a fight. Our relationship was, is perfect.”
“Is there any reason you can think of that she would’ve harmed Patches and then fled?” Wyatt asks after he gets an ‘all clear’ from the officers upstairs.
James hangs his head and drops his shoulders.
“She wouldn’t do anything to harm Patches and she wouldn’t’ve fled.” James exhales and sits on the porch swing. “She was fleeing her abusive husband.”
Leanna was ashamed of her past and had asked that James keep it between them. No one in Texas was aware of her past and he regrets that now. All they knew was that she was out for a fresh start. No one was aware that she was fleeing a domineering man. Now they all think she was some sort of nut job that would kill his dog and flee town.
Wyatt stares at James. There were never any secrets kept between the two. “She’s married?” He stares at James as if there were a second head growing up from his shoulder.
James sighs. “She filed for divorce yesterday, after she made the six month residency mark for Texas. She was ashamed of where she came from, Wy. She didn’t want people to judge her or feel sorry for her.”
Wyatt’s face fills with sympathy. “I can only imagine how she felt. You know my sister was married to a very violent man and it took her to the point she almost died before she told anyone. Do you think he knew where she was?”
“She talked to her friend, Maryanne, a few weeks ago and she said that he left town almost immediately after Leanna and no one had seen him since. It’s the only logical answer. He found her and took her!” Fear washes over his face. “I promised her I would protect her and I failed—miserably.”
“You didn’t fail her,” Wyatt gets firm. “No one saw this coming, but we will find her. That I can assure you.” Wyatt pats his shoulder.
***
Detectives in the missing persons’ unit arrived not long after the house was swept and cleared. Detective Richard Stewart was lead on the case and took all the information that James could give him. “Well, if you think this Mark character kidnapped her, then we are looking at a federal crime if you think he took her across state lines and back to Georgia.”
“I don’t think he did, I know he did! No one else would’ve done this to her. The longer you sit here talking to me, the further away he’s taking her,” James begins to grow frustrated and hard to get along with.
“Now, Officer McMullen, you know that we’re doing everything we can do. This is proper procedure. We will find her—that is if she wants to be found,” Detective Stewart snares.
James was barely able to control his anger at the Dick while he was in his home. It’s part of the process when there’s a kidnapping but this dude was just a prick. After the house had been cleared, all of the officers filed out after giving their looks of sympathy.
Wyatt is the only one left. “Get your ass up, James.”
James looks at Wyatt as if demons had invaded his body. “What the hell? I’m grieving here!”
“Well, enough bullshit. I packed you a bag,” he waves the bag in the air, “and we need to stop by my house to pack a bag for me before we get Travis,” he says as he pulls on James’ arm, lifting him from his seated position.
James is taken aback. “What the hell are you doing? I ain’t going on no vacation after my woman—the woman I love has been kidnapped.” He looks at him with stark confusion spread across his face.
Wyatt shakes his head. “We aren’t going on a vacation. While you were talking to that Dick—literally, I was telling Travis about what was going on. We’ve decided we’re going to go and rescue your woman. In essence, we’re going to be the three musketeers. Oh, and we got Maryanne’s number from your call log through your cell carrier. You can call her once we’re on our way to Danville.”
Once Wyatt’s words settle into James’ brain, he jumps up and grabs his bag from his hand and heads toward the door. He stops just as he opens the door and looks over to where Patches had lost his life. The body has been removed and his brothers in blue cleaned up the mess but the image will always be etched in his head. “Let’s go get that son-of-a-bitch.”
Twenty Three
Mark drove through the night and made it to the Georgia state line in record time. Two lines of speed and a 5-Hour Energy was all he needed to stay alert for twenty-four straight hours. He’s on a bit of a time crunch. The amount of Propofol he had to knock Leanna out with was only enough for no more than thirty-six hours. That means he has to have her back to Danville and in his father’s dungeon before then.
Now that he’s heading down the old dirt road to his daddy’s house, a malevolent smile fills half his face. Memories of his father locking his mother in the dungeon and torturing her flood his pre-frontal cortex. He loved watching him control his woman. The cries and pleas to end her life made him all warm inside. Now, today it’s Mark’s turn. Yes, for years Leanna disobeyed and did stupid things but his father said what she did wasn’t bad enough for use of the dungeon. That was until she pulled this stunt. Mark’s not sure who was more pissed, him or his father.
Mark slides the car to an abrupt halt in front of his childhood home. He crushes out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. His door opens with a long squeak and shuts with a heavy thud. Gravel crushes under his weight as he makes his way to the trunk and pops it open. The stench that radiates out of the trunk damn near knocks him off his feet. Leanna, as a result of the amount of Propofol, has urinated and defecated herself. “Fuck, you smell as bad as you look. Maybe you should’ve stayed your ass put instead of running around playing house.”
Mark grabs her under her arms and flings her out of the car. Her body lands on the ground with a thump. He wraps his hands around her hair and drags her toward the front door. No way does he want to risk getting her bodily fluids all over him.
“Pa!” He yells through the screen door. “Is it open?”
His Pa steps out on the porch and looks between his son and his daughter-in-law. He spits some chew on the dirt just centimeters from Leanna and shakes his head in disgust. “Yeah, it’s open. You know how to hook her up right, boy?”
“I sure do, Pa. Watched you lock Mama up several times,” Mark smiles from ear to ear. He remembers his mother hanging for almost two weeks one time. She had bruised wrists and welts along her skin. Pa had to really beat her that time. It was the third time she’d tried to leave him and he wanted it to be the last time. Unfortunately it wasn’t her last time. Her last time was the next time and it was only the last because Pa made it so.
It was a cold, winter day. Snow littered the dirt road and Pa had just gone to bed, leaving Ma to her chores. Not long after he started snoring, she grabbed her coat and took off out the back door. Mark had seen her run off. Without hesitation, he ran into his Pa’s room and shook him awake. “Pa, Pa, Ma’s taken off again,” his little ten year-old voiced hollered out.
Pa jumped out of bed and slides his boots on. “Which way did she go, boy?” He questioned as he grabbed his 20 gauge shot gun from the side of his bed.
“She went thata way,” Mark pointed toward the back door and watched his Pa take off after her.
Mark stayed home, alone, while Pa went to catch his ma. It wasn’t long before he heard a distant gun shot. Even though he’d grown up with guns his entire life, the sound still caused him to jump.
He stared out the window and waited to see his parents walk up, but that night was different. That night, he saw his Pa dragging his Ma through the snow. When they got closer, Mark saw a trail of dark red blood behind his Ma.
He watched as they headed toward the dungeon, though it wasn’t really a dungeon in the terms that it was underground. Pa had turned the old machine shed out back into a makeshift torture chamber—a place where a man could teach his woman how to behave.
Mark, scared seeing the blood behind his ma, took off outside to meet his pa, “Pa, Pa, what happened?” Little Mark held back tears that threatened to fall. He knew that crying was for sissies and if he cried, his Pa would’ve whooped his ass raw.
“I had to do what was necessary, boy,” he replied as he begun to cuff his wife’s limp and unresponsive body to the two cuffs suspended from the ceiling.
She hung there, her body lifeless as blood dripped from her midsection. The only sign
of life was a horrible, cackling sound as she inhaled and exhaled. “Is she gonna be alright, Pa?”
Once all the locks were in place, he turned and looked his son dead in his eyes. “I don’t think so, but she got what she deserved, boy. A woman’s place is in the home, caring for every need of her man. Your ma knew her role but refused to abide to it.”
He went back to the house leaving little Mark and his ma in the dungeon. Mark stood there for what seemed like hours but could have only been a few minutes until his ma took her final breath. One tear ran down his cheek. He wiped that bastard away with the back of his hand and allowed anger to sweep in—anger at all women.
Mark hurries to get Leanna cuffed to the same mechanism that his mother died in. Leanna’s body lies lifeless on the floor as he locks each cuff before heading over to the chains and hoisting her in the air—only her toes touch the ground.
“Now, to wait for the bitch to wake up and the fun to begin.” He lights a smoke and plops his ass on a stool.
Twenty Four
James, Travis and Wyatt drive from Texas to Georgia without making any stops aside from fuel. While one drove, the other two devised their plan to find and save Leanna. They knew from what Leanna had told James that they couldn’t trust local law enforcement there. The sheriff and his goons always protected Mark and turned a blind eye to the bodily injuries that Leanna sustained as a result of his anger.
As they cross the Georgia line from Alabama, James dials Maryanne’s number. She would be their only source of information about the area and the people in Danville. After the third ring, a woman’s voice echoes from the other end. “Hello?”