Code 3: Finding Safety

by V. E. Avance

“Maryanne?” James questions hoping this is the right number for her.

  “Yeah, who wants to know?”

  “My name’s James. Leanna is my, er, um, girlfriend,” he rambles off not sure what Leanna’s told her about him. He knows that he should’ve called her before they departed Texas but he didn’t want to worry her any sooner than needed.

  “Oh, oh, you’re the James she told me about. Wait a minute, why are you calling me? Is Leanna alright?”

  James sulks, “No, Maryanne. She’s not alright. She’s missing. I think…”

  “Mark found her,” she interrupts James and starts fumbling around. James hears the rustling of things and then the racking sound of a shot gun.

  “Maryanne, whatever you’re doing, just stop. My friends and I just crossed into Georgia and we’re just a few minutes outside of Danville.”

  Maryanne sighs on the other end of the line. “Ok, well, you guys are going to meet up with me over here and I’ll show you where that bastard and his crazier-than-shit father live at. You have to save my girl,” Maryanne remarks.

  “We will, Maryanne. I want her home more than I want anything in life.”

  Maryanne gives James directions to her home before saying their goodbyes. James’ heart begins to pound harder and faster with every mile. “We have an ally in Danville,” he tells Travis and Wyatt as he pockets his cell phone before resting his head on the back of the seat and taking in a deep breath of air into his lungs.

  Twenty Five

  Leanna slowly begins to stir. Her head feels fuzzy and her body aches. What the hell happened, is the first question that swims through her foggy mind. Her eyes begin to flutter open and she takes in her surroundings.

  She’s hung up on a ceiling and just ahead of her is a rotted work bench with whips and chains with branding irons lying across it. Her heart races as she tugs on her bindings only to discover that they are firmly attached to her wrists.

  “Well, well, well, look who decided to join the land of the living,” Mark’s voice rings from a corner chair—a chair she missed when she assessed her situation. He rises from the chair and walks toward her, a knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. The bastard and his fucking whittling, Leanna thinks to herself with disgust and contempt spreading across her face.

  “What are you doing, Mark? Why did you kidnap me?” She shakes her hands trying in vain to get free.

  “I didn’t kidnap you. I only took what was rightfully mine. When you married me, you became my property. Only I can rid myself of my property. You,” he gets up in her face, eyes dancing with fury, “don’t get to decide when I’ve had enough of you.”

  He pokes her rib cage with his whittling knife causing Leanna to jump in both surprise and pain.

  “That’s not what marriage is about, Mark. That’s not how this is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a partnership, based on love and trust. We married for convenience and nothing more. I want more, Mark. I found more,” she cries out.

  A hard back hand smacks her on the side of her face. She screams in agony as her face begins to swell on impact. “You found more? You found more! Bitch, you found out that you were a whore, that’s what you found. You were fucking some other guy while you were mine! That pussy,” he grabs her full mound and squeezes hard enough to make her tear up. “That pussy is mine and you allowed some other prick to have fun with it. Well, not again. I’m going to tear that shit up so you know whose dick belongs there,” he releases her only to punch her straight in her nose, blood spurting all over the floor.

  Between the pain and the drug in her system, she begins to blackout. She sees Mark grabbing a tool from the table. She says a little prayer that God ends her suffering before the darkness consumes her.

  Twenty Six

  Maryanne has food on the table when the guys arrive. She quickly ushers them in and gets them seated at the eat-in kitchen and begins serving them large helpings of spaghetti, meatballs, salad and bread. “I hope this is okay with all of you. I didn’t have much time to make dinner with such little notice,” she says as she wipes her hands on her apron.

  “This is great. Thank you,” Travis nods his head.

  “Yeah, this will hit the spot,” Wyatt agrees.

  “I’d eat anything at this point,” James remarks before shoveling a bite of food in his mouth.

  “I know you guys probably aren’t that hungry considering the circumstances but we all need to eat and you boys need to keep your strength up if you’re going to rescue my best friend.”

  The boys nod their head while Maryanne pulls up a barstool. “So, I’ll talk while you three eat and listen.”

  They nod their head again and all three, in unison, reply, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “So, Mark lives here in town, in a rundown old house but he hasn’t been home since the day that Leanna left Dansville. The only other place he can be at is his daddy’s house,” she pulls out a self-drawn ‘map’ of the property.

  “Now, you see, this is the main house. And this,” she points just to the right of the main home, “this is the garage. But now this….this is the building we need to focus on. This is the machine shed and this is where Mark’s daddy keeps the dungeon.”

  “Dungeon?” James questions, swallowing his bite hard.

  “We need to focus?” Wyatt repeats.

  “Well, it’s not really a dungeon but that’s what Mark and his daddy, Earl, call it. It’s more of a torture chamber from what I’ve been led to assume.”

  “Again, I ask ‘we need to focus,’” Wyatt repeats his previous questions.

  “Yes, we,” she rolls her eyes at the brut before her.

  “I don’t think there’s any we. The boys and I are going to be doing this on our own. We don’t need to worry about another damsel needing rescuing. Owww…” Wyatt shouts as he pushes his seat back and begins to rub his shin. “What the fuck was that for?” He glares across the table at Travis.

  “Mind your manners,” Travis growls at him.

  “I’m going to go with you boys. Leanna needs me and I know the area. You’ll never find the property without me,” she holds her own to Wyatt. “And, for your information, I don’t need any rescuing. You may think all women are helpless but you just met one that can handle her own, boy!”

  Wyatt continues to rub his shin and hang his head. Maryanne has lived through enough in her thirty years on this earth and she’s not helpless like most men think. Big things come in small, unsuspecting packages and Wyatt’s going to learn that lesson, one way or another.

  The four of them finish out their plan and fine tune what they need to do to rescue Leanna. Maryanne clears the dishes and rinses them before leaving them in the sink to be washed after they get Leanna back.

  “Okay guys, let’s get going.”

  Twenty Seven

  Leanna passed out well before Mark could start to have any fun with her. He gave her another small dose of Propofol to make sure she slept for the next few hours so he could get some rest and be alert for the fun he had in store for her today.

  He takes an ammonia soaked rag and swipes it under her nose. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he sing-songs. “I’ve got a fun-filled day planned for your ass.”

  Mark watches as Leanna jerks her head back at the pungent smell of the ammonia. A half smile forms along his face as he takes in the joy of torturing his wife—his property. Though Leanna’s escape from him angered him to the point of murder, he was glad that she’d done what she did. Now he gets to have the pleasure of beating her into the type of woman that he wants. A woman whose only desire is to make sure he’s taken care of.

  He places the rag on the table behind him. He grabs a leather whip and slides it through his hand. Without a word, he raises the whip and strikes her along her ribcage with it. A loud slap echoes through the room while an ear piercing scream rings out. “You can scream all you want but no one will hear you; and, even if they did, no one will help you,” he laughs a menacing laugh before erupti
ng into a deep smokers cough.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” She screams out just before sobs rack her body.

  Another, unsuspecting whip hits her outer thigh. She screams out again, this time tears fall down her face at record speed. “You need to learn your role. You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. You are to be seen but unheard, do you understand?”

  Leanna nods her head. Another thrash with the whip causes her to scream before biting her lip to try to keep as quiet as possible. “I asked a fucking question, whore. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, yes, I understand,” she quickly slurs out. “Please, Mark. Please don’t do this to me.”

  Another lashing of the whip has her writhing in pain against the chains. Tears spill down her cheeks. Mark begins to pace the room, watching her with intent. Mark finds this torture exciting—exuberant. He’s never found himself experiencing this much enthusiasm for anything. A piece of him never wants this to end. He never wants to give up his control over her and the ‘fun’ that he’s experiencing.

  He puts the whip back on the table and glares at her, elation extends from his eyes. He looks from Leanna back to the table. His synapses are firing at rapid speed. He reaches out and grabs the dull knife on the table. He places his thumb on the tip and twists it on his finger as he makes eye contact with Leanna and, slowly, walks toward her.

  He takes the knife and slides it under her shirt and pulls, ripping the shirt in two. Leanna screams, startled by the action, causing Mark to back hand her with his freehand. “Don’t you dare,” he rumbles before sliding the knife between her skin and the front of her bra. Again, one swift movement and the bra parts in two.

  Without touching her skin, he pushes the two cups to the side to expose her breasts. Thoughts of the cop with his hands and mouth all over those plump tits invoke rage within him. He drops the knife on the floor and makes his way back to the table.

  After locating the item he was looking for, he retrieves it and quickly makes his way back to Leanna. “These,” he points toward her breasts, “these are fucking mine! You allowed someone to touch these without my fucking permission. Now…now you need to pay.”

  He takes a pair of nipple clamps and places them on each one of her rosy nipples. Leanna doesn’t react as intensely as Mark had anticipating, causing his temper to go into a frenzy. He places more tension on the clamps and, before he knows it, Leanna is writhing and screaming in pain. Watching her struggle against the chains, knowing she’s feeling extreme pain from the pressure of the nipple clamp causes his dick to come to life. He can’t remember the last time his dick throbbed to be inside Leanna, but the sounds of her pain wake him inside.

  “Yeah baby, keep fighting. Daddy likes that,” he says as he begins to rub himself through his dingy, faded Levi’s. “Who would’ve thunk you to be sexually attractive while in pain. Had I known this years ago, I would’ve been screwing your pretty little brains out long ago.”

  As he continues to rub himself, the dungeon doors fly open. He whips his head up to see his Pa standing there. “What’s all the ruckus boy? Can’t you keep…” Earl Dickson trails off when he sees his daughter-in-law’s predicament. “Well, I’ll be damned, the bitch has a nice rack on her boy!”

  Mark smiles from ear to ear at Earl’s praise of his wife. “Thanks, Pa.”

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Earl says as he slaps his hands together.

  “What? You can’t stay here,” Mark looks at his father as if he doesn’t recognize the man standing before him.

  “To hell I can’t. This is my property and my tools.”

  Mark, not wanting to go against his Pa, shrugs his shoulders and turns his back. His joy has just been shattered. He didn’t want to share this moment with anyone and now he has no choice. He bows his head and meets his father at the table as Leanna continues to cry out in pain.

  Twenty Eight

  There was no fighting Maryanne to stay home. The guys were only going to be able to get to Leanna so long as her overprotective, best friend tagged along. So, after their hearty meal, all four head out to Earl’s property.

  The four of them make it to the property line of Earl Dickson in just thirty minutes. The property is typical of a hillbilly. There are rundown, rusted cars and trucks littering every square foot along with barrels of garbage and junk. How the hell can one live like this, James thinks to himself as they begin to weave in and out of the maze of stuff.

  Maryanne ducks down beside a shell of a Ford Mustang from the sixties. “You see that building over there?” She points toward a building located just behind the main house on the property.

  “Yeah,” all three men chime in at the same time.

  “That’s what Earl refers to as the dungeon. If my suspicions are correct, that’s where Mark is keeping Leanna. That’s where Earl used to beat on Carla, his wife, and I’m sure crazy don’t fall far from the tree.”

  “Ok, so, the three of us will go in and clear the building. We want you to wait here. Can you do that?” James says to Maryanne, praying that she doesn’t put up too much of a fight.

  Maryanne purses her lips and thinks for a moment before responding. “I’ll wait here while you clear the building but,” she holds a stare at the three of them, especially Wyatt. “But I will be going in as soon as it’s safe. Got it?” She eyes Wyatt.

  James looks between the other two guys. Travis nods his head but Wyatt holds Maryanne’s gaze. James has never seen Wyatt so protective over anyone before. “Wyatt, either you agree or you stay back with Maryanne. The choice is yours, but I’m heading in to clear the building and get my woman out.”

  James begins to trek toward the building while Travis follows behind. Wyatt follows behind Travis but not before giving Maryanne a piece of his mind. “You stay here and don’t move an inch until I come back and get you. Do we have an understanding?”

  James heard Maryanne grumble something but was unable to make out what exactly. All he knew was that apparently what she said was good enough for Wyatt and the guys were heading into unknown territory.

  Leanna’s animalistic scream pierces through the night air. The men halt in their spot and look toward each other. They begin hiking faster through the junk when they see the back door of the residence open and slam shut. A stubby, old man makes his way to the dreaded dungeon. Leanna’s screams continue to fill the night but the guys have to move slower now that it appears Mark isn’t alone.

  “Ok, Wyatt, you take the back while Travis and I take the front,” James turns and lays out the plan of attack. Perspiration forms along his brow as he begins to make his way toward the front.

  James peers in the window near the front entrance. Leanna’s chained to the ceiling by chains and cuffs. Her shirt is removed and there’s clamps on her breasts—her beautiful breasts. Mark and his dad, he assumes, are bickering by a table holding more torture equipment. Anger is seeping from his pores.

  “We’ve got to get in there, now,” James turns to Travis.

  They quickly make their way to the door. James and Travis pull their handguns. “1-2…3,” James counts before kicking the door in, sending shards of wood flying through the air.

  “Get on the ground,” James yells, pointing his gun at Mark while Travis has his positioned on Earl. James’ trigger finger is feeling a bit itchy and it wouldn’t take much for him to squeeze. As if Mark can read his mind, he gets on the ground with his hands out.

  Earl, on the other hand, doesn’t comply easily. Thankfully, Travis’ trigger finger is steady or else he’d be riddled with bullets by now. “Boy, you really are a fucking pansy. This is my house and no way in hell am I getting on the fucking ground,” Earl snarls at James while looking down the barrel of Travis’ .40 caliber handgun.

  Wyatt creeps in quietly and right up behind the ol’ man. “Is that right?” Wyatt questions before pistol whipping him in the back of the head. He knocked him to his knees with one blow. “Now, didn’t the gentleman over here tell you to
‘hit the ground?’ I think it’s best that you learn to listen ol’ man.”

  Wyatt reaches back and grabs a pair of flex-cuffs and makes quick work of securing Earl’s hands behind his back before moving on to Mark. He puts up a little struggle but a knee to his temple subdues him rather quickly.

  After both men are secured, Wyatt motions for Maryanne to come in while James races to Leanna’s side. He wraps his jacket around her shoulders. “Please…please get me down,” she pleads through a parched throat.

  “Yes,” James runs over to the table for the cuff key. He gets her off the chains and safely in his arms when Maryanne comes barreling through the door.

  “Oh my God, Leanna, are you alright?” She squeals as she makes her way toward her best friend. Tears begin to prick her eyes. “What did that bastard do to you?” The tears fall and she swipes them away with the back of her hand.

  Before Leanna can answer, Maryanne is at her feet and looking toward the garbage that is restrained on the ground. “You!” She screams as she makes her way to Mark.

  James looks on as Wyatt and Travis both try to make it toward Maryanne before she gets to Mark. They’re too late. A swift kick lands on Mark’s face followed by a crunching sound and an excruciating wail comes from him. “You worthless piece of shit, you sorry excuse for a fucking man. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

  Wyatt wraps his arms around Maryanne, pulling her away from Mark. “Get off of me. Get the fuck off of me,” Maryanne shrieks. “This two time fucking loser needs to get his ass kicked. Untie his hands and let me beat on him the way he did to Leanna for all those years.”

  “Maryanne,” Leanna’s soft voice whispers out to her irate friend. “I’m okay. He’s not worth it, honey.”

  Maryanne hangs her head as James pulls Leanna closer to him. “Come here,” Leanna urges Maryanne. “I haven’t seen you in months. I need to feel you,” she pleads.

  Maryanne’s shoulders slump as she turns and heads back toward Leanna and James. She drops to her knees and Leanna’s hand extends to draw her in for a hug. “I take it you’ve already met my boyfriend,” she smiles at Maryanne. “He’s sexy huh?”