by AJ Powers
Kelsey gently closed the door to the bedroom. She had put Dakota down for the night a little earlier than usual, but she had to be somewhere, and she wanted to say goodnight to her. She needed to say goodnight to her.
She walked over to the kitchen table and pulled her jacket off the back of one of the chairs. It wasn’t terribly cold outside, but the nights were still down in the 40s, and she had no idea how long she was going to be out.
“It’s a little late to be heading out,” Hawthorne said as she tidied up from dinner. “Meeting Clay somewhere?”
Kelsey felt a pang in her stomach at the mention of Clay. She still hadn’t told Hawthorne what had happened, and now wasn’t the time. “No,” she said, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I just need to talk with Watson about some things.”
The expression on her face told Hawthorne there was more to the story than that, but before she had a chance to ask, Kelsey continued.
“Bev, I uh…” she got a little choked up but reined it in quickly. “I need you to do me a favor.” Kelsey almost laughed at her choice of words. A favor is when you borrow a neighbor’s tool or ask for a glass of water. What she was asking of her dear friend would leave Kelsey indebted forever.
“What is it?” Hawthorne asked, concern in her eyes.
Kelsey reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, several times folded. She extended her arm and held it out for Hawthorne to take. “If something were to ever happen to me. If I…” she paused and took a deep breath, “If I don’t come back home someday, please see to it that Dakota gets here,” she said.
“What’s going on Kelsey? What are you really doing tonight?”
“Just promise,” Kelsey insisted. “This is where Clay lives, and I know he and his family would take care of Dakota like one of their own.” She wiped away a tear at the thought. She never imagined she could one day be separated from her little girl, but that reality lingered each and every day, regardless of the current events.
She knew that Dakota would be welcome with Clay’s family. Even if Kelsey was no longer a part of Clay’s life, he would never hold that against Dakota. He had a kind and charitable heart; it was one of the many qualities about him that Kelsey had fallen in love with.
Hawthorne saw a distress in Kelsey’s eyes, and it chilled her to the bone. She knew whatever Kelsey was planning to do was bad.
“Is there any way I can talk you out of whatever you’re planning to do?” she asked, almost rhetorically, as she reached for the piece of paper.
Kelsey shook her head. “Thank you, mom. I love you.”
Hawthorne slid the piece of paper into her back pocket, and the two hugged briefly before Kelsey broke away. She looked outside and saw how dark it was getting. “I really need to get going.”
Kelsey walked to the door and opened it when Hawthorne stopped her.
“I hope this is not goodbye,” Hawthorne said, a fierce shake in her voice. “I love you, Kelsey. Please stay safe tonight.”
Kelsey smiled warmly. “I will be,” she lied and closed the door.
As Kelsey walked to Watson’s house, she tried to come up with the right words to say. Watson was not easily flattered, so that would rule out a smooth, flirtatious conversation. Typically, at the end of the day, Watson just wanted to know how the bottom line benefited him. He was not an easy man to negotiate with, and if he became annoyed enough, bad things happened. Her mind wandered back to the black eye she had just before winter—the one she lied about when Clay questioned it.
Kelsey wondered if Clay’s attempt to purchase her freedom was the real reason Watson had sent Silas. There weren’t a lot of ways to please Watson, but countless ways to anger him, disrespect chief among them.
She felt inside her jacket pocket as she approached the porch. The knife was there. She had no idea how the conversation was going to go, or how on edge Watson would be after the attack on Clay, so she brought it just in case. She tried to convince herself it was a bad idea. The mere picture of Watson’s face in her mind was enough to flood her with hatred; enough to want to kill him for what he did to Charlie and what he was doing to her and Dakota. It would take a lot of self-restraint. She wasn’t confident she had it.
She knocked lightly on the door and after a few seconds passed, she saw a light flip on. He walked up to the door and peeked out from behind the curtain. The sound of the deadbolt unlatching caused Kelsey to jump; she was edgy. She took a deep breath.
“Kelsey,” he said, a slight agitation in his voice, “why are you on my doorstep at almost...” he looked at his wristwatch, “nine o’clock?”
“Mr. Watson, I know it’s late, but I really need to talk to you about my situation.”
Watson rolled his eyes and shook his head. “This is a conversation we can have another time, darlin’,” he said and began to shut the door.
“Please!” Kelsey said and wedged her foot between the door and the frame. “It won’t take long; I just need to talk to you.”
He furrowed his bushy eyebrows and let out a hefty sigh. Not a good start, Kelsey thought. She just needed to get in and calm him down; it wouldn’t be an easy task.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he said and opened the door.
Kelsey walked in and immediately sat down on the couch. “Please, have a seat,” Watson snidely jabbed at her etiquette.
Watson walked into the kitchen briefly before coming back with a glass of scotch. He didn’t offer Kelsey anything. He sat down in the chair across from the couch and rested one hand on the chair’s padded arm; the other cradled the small tumbler.
“Listen, Mr. Watson, I know we talked about this recently, but I’ve been here quite a while now. Nearly everything I find goes towards my debt, and yet I have barely made a scratch. I understand what I did was wrong, and it was very costly to you, but you can’t keep me prisoner here forever,” she said, nearly impressed with how well she articulated her thoughts.
“My dear, I’m not holding you prisoner. Remember, you are free to leave whenever you’d like,” he said with a malevolent grin.
Kelsey became angered by Watson’s reminder that Dakota would be killed if she tried to escape. She hated him more than she thought possible. He was, in every regard, a monster. She had to keep her cool, though, or she would have no chance. “You know I would never leave without my daughter.” She paused for a moment, trying to think of what to say next. “So, I guess we are at a bit of an impasse.”
Watson raised his eyebrows. “An impasse? I don’t think you know what that word means, young lady,” he said with a chuckle.
Kelsey wrestled with her desire to jump over the coffee table in front of her and put the blade right up to his throat. She knew that would do no good right now, though. She couldn’t let him know she knew anything about Silas’s attack on Clay.
“Remember, sweetheart, this isn’t some free ride you get while you pay off your debt. You have to earn your keep and pay your debt. It’s how the world works,” he said with condescension.
Keep it together, Kelsey. “I understand that, Mr. Watson, but it’s really hard to make any headway when,” she held up her hands and did air quotes, “cost of living here goes up practically every month.”
Watson tossed back the remaining liquid in his cup and climbed out of his chair. “I’m sorry you don’t like how things are run here, but it’s just the way it’s gonna be. Find a way to pay me what you owe me, and you and your daughter are free to find greener pastures.” He turned to walk to the kitchen heading straight for the bottle on the counter. “I’m sure you can find some more…creative ways around town to get some extra money,” he said as he walked away.
Kelsey snapped.
She was so furious she couldn’t see straight, and before Kelsey realized it, she was swiftly coming up behind Watson. She slid the knife out of her pocket and squeezed it tight; her knuckles lost all color. The world around her became a total blur, a spinning mess. Watson was crystal clear, however, and that’s all
that mattered.
He began pouring his drink and yelled something to her thinking she was still in the living room. His voice was muffled and the words sounded as if he were speaking a foreign language. She didn’t know what he said, and she didn’t care. She was tired of being Watson’s slave. She was sick of him being a god in his own little patch of paradise.
And it was all about to come to an end. One way or another.
Kelsey raised her arm and quickly threw it forward. By the time she realized Watson had started to turn around, she was committed to the strike.
Watson swept his arm across his face to deflect the attack. It worked in the sense that it prevented a fatal blow, but Kelsey’s momentum drove the blade deep into his triceps, about an inch above the elbow.
His scream was sharp and furious. He pushed Kelsey away then kicked her in her stomach. As she fell back, she yanked the blade out of his arm, yielding another scream.
The yell turned to a grunting through clenched teeth. He reached for his holster out of habit, but he had taken it off upstairs. Kelsey lunged at him again, set out to finish the job, but Watson was able to grab her wrist and swing her into the counter. She struggled to break free from his grasp, but his strength clearly outmatched hers. He lifted her arm up and then with all his might, slammed her wrist on the edge of the counter.
Kelsey let out a blood curdling shriek as the ferocious pain pulsated through her entire arm. The break was audible; she knew the battle had been lost. Her cries and whimpers yielded no sympathy from Watson as he beat her without mercy.
Eventually, the pain had reached the point where it almost didn’t exist. She wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or if she had taken so many blows that her body was shutting down. After a few minutes, Watson grew tired and stopped. She could hear him panting, gasping for air like he had just finished a marathon. He hurled some insults at her, but her brain couldn’t properly process the information.
She mustered enough strength to elevate her head; otherwise, she would have drowned in the pooling blood on the floor. Her left eye had swollen shut, and the right eye wasn’t faring much better. She tried to move her fingers on the broken wrist, but that pain, the only pain that seemed to be present, was too much. What little vision she had was throbbing with each heartbeat; it was getting darker.
No! She thought. Not like this. Kelsey thought of Dakota and Hawthorne. She thought of Clay and the life they might have had together. Even if such a thing no longer existed, it gave her motivation to keep going. It gave her hope.
Suddenly, Watson heard a knocking on the door. Somebody probably heard the scream. He looked and saw that Kelsey wasn’t moving; he wasn’t even sure she was conscious. The knocking persisted.
“Jake, it’s Jeremy! Everything okay?” shouting came from the porch.
Kelsey tried to scream for Jeremy, but nothing came out. The pain was slowly throbbing back into existence.
“Just a minute!” Watson yelled while trying to clean the blood from his clothes with a dish towel. It was no use.
Watson looked around the kitchen, but found nothing, so he walked into the next room over in search of clothing. Kelsey took the opportunity to lift her head up and look around. She had no idea where the knife ended up. She found a weapon of opportunity, but before she could move, Watson’s footsteps paraded across the floor back through the kitchen. He stopped and looked at Kelsey.
“What’s going on in there, Jake?” Jeremy continued.
The old man sighed and left the kitchen, making his way through the living room to shoo Jeremy away. As he was reaching to unlock the door, he heard glass breaking from the kitchen. Watson stopped before he turned the deadbolt fully and darted back to the kitchen.
“Watson!” Jeremy shouted as he tried to open the door.
Watson rounded the corner and saw shards of glass on the floor and Kelsey facing away from him, leaning into the counter. He stepped quickly across the kitchen floor, holding Kelsey’s knife.
“I am done dealing with you, little girl!” he said, gritting his teeth.
Kelsey spun around, holding Watson’s bottle of scotch in her good hand. Using the momentum from her spin, she cracked him on the side of the head with the bottle.
The sound was even worse than when he had shattered her wrist. Watson stumbled for a moment before his eyes rolled back, and his body went limp. The old man fell to the floor and made no attempt to break his fall.
Kelsey collapsed as well. The sound of a now nearly empty bottle of scotch clattered as it hit the ground still fully intact. She looked over at Watson. Her vision was too fuzzy to be able to tell if he was still breathing. She hoped he wasn’t.
She heard Jeremy break the window on the front door. She knew he was close, yet it sounded as if he was miles away. Her heart rate slowed, and the world finally faded.
Chapter 30
She could hear a muffled voice. It was calling to her.
“Kelsey!” the voice yelled. It sounded as if he was shouting while being smothered with a pillow.
She opened her right eye briefly. The room was dark, yet the light from the hallway was still too bright for her. The voice got louder, slightly clearer. She wanted him to go away; she just wanted to sleep.
“Kelsey!” The scream was now deafening, perfectly clear.
She gasped as she woke up, immediately crying out as the pain welcomed her back from her slumber.
“We have to get out of here, right now!” Jeremy said with urgency.
Jeremy wasn’t just in the neighborhood. He had come for a meeting with Watson, Silas, and a few others. Silas would be there any minute, and asking questions wouldn’t be first on his list of things to do.
Kelsey groaned in protest. She was tired and in pain; she didn’t want to be awake.
“Kelsey, look at me, right now!”
She did her best to oblige. His face was just out of focus, as if she needed to slightly twist on the lens of a camera in order to restore the picture. Despite the blurred vision, Kelsey could see the grim look on Jeremy’s face. She must look as bad as she felt.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
Kelsey knew the answer before she even attempted to try. Even though her legs had not taken the brunt of Watson’s attack, she barely had the energy to speak, let alone run.
“Nevermind,” he said, frustrated with her delayed responses.
Jeremy picked her up and carried her out the back door. He walked as fast as he could while he cradled her limp body. They had gotten maybe a quarter mile away when he heard shouting coming from Watson’s house. The windows on the first floor lit up one by one, and silhouettes could be seen moving about searching for the assailant.
This is real bad, Jeremy thought. There was no way Kelsey was walking out of there alive. He had to get her onto a horse, and even then, he wasn’t sure she would be able to handle that. He had very little medical training, just basic first-aid knowledge, but enough to know she was in rough shape.
Jeremy and Kelsey were in the middle of a patch of high grass, one of many fields used to harvest hay. It wasn’t but two feet tall, but it would be enough. He crouched down and gently laid Kelsey on the ground. “No matter what, stay quiet!” he ordered.
Some of the men were now outside checking around the house, their flashlights waving about like a rock concert. Unfortunately, the most likely route a fleeing attacker would take was the same one Jeremy had taken. It was his only option to avoid being spotted, but Silas and his men would be heading his way any moment.
The only way to keep Kelsey safe was to divert their search efforts—at least long enough to wrangle up a horse and get her out of there. Jeremy reached for a small pocket knife he always had on him and sliced it across his stomach and twice on his left arm. The pain was tolerable due to the enormous amount of adrenaline surging through his body. The self-inflicted gashes would explain the blood on his shirt from carrying Kelsey and would, hopefully, add a level of believability to his story.
&
nbsp; “Kelsey, remember what I said,” he spoke as loudly as he dared. “No matter what, don’t move. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
Jeremy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He pulled out his pistol and ran about 50 yards away. He turned and saw the flashlights heading towards Kelsey. He racked the slide on his gun and took aim.
“Hey, you!” Jeremy shouted as loudly as he could. “Stop right there!” Seconds later, Jeremy fired several times towards a cluster of trees a few hundred yards away. He couldn’t really see them but knew they were there.
The first part of the plan worked, the flashlights were racing towards him, the men were shouting back and forth at each other. Within half a minute, the first had arrived.
“Don’t move!” one of Silas’s men barked at Jeremy.
Jeremy held up his blood-stained hands. “Don’t shoot. It’s me, Jeremy,” he said while pretending to gasp for air.
By the time Silas reached them, Jeremy had dropped to his knees, putting on a believable performance that would back up his claims.
“What happened? What are you doing out here?” Silas asked Jeremy.
“I got to Watson’s a little early for our meeting and saw someone in a mask attacking him. I chased him out this way,” he said taking a few puffs of air before continuing. “He got me pretty good,” Jeremy said tugging at his shirt, “and that’s when he took off and I started shooting at him.” He pointed out towards the trees.
“Michaels, take Hall, Garver, and Mueller and track that S-O-B down,” Silas stopped for a moment, “and try to bring him back alive. I imagine Watson would appreciate the opportunity to have a chat with this man.”
“Yes sir!” the men collectively said and began jogging towards the tree line.
“So, Watson’s okay, then?” Jeremy asked, pretending to sound relieved.
“He was barely conscious when I got there. Doc’s there now checking him out. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, if he’s gonna make it,” he said with indifference. He looked over at Jeremy and shined his flashlight on his stomach. “Looks like you need to go see Doc too.”