by VR Baucke
“You bitch!” he shouted in my face and grabbed my jaw. “If it wasn’t for the picture you sent, my wife never would have found out about you and lost her shit. She wears the scars of her insecurities, and I’m here to seek retribution.”
Jono stepped back and studied me while casually tossing the knife from hand to hand. I felt the blood drain from my face as he maintained his relentless appraisal but I’d be damned if I let it show how much that information freaked me out. I knew there was pain heading my way, and a lot of it. I just hoped I could hold on until my family found me. The constant connection with Mickey was the only thing keeping my hopes of surviving alive.
I had to bide my time, get Jono talking, tell him what he wanted to hear. I summoned the strength I needed to lie through my teeth.
“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault that it happened that way, but-”
“It’s not my fucken fault, it’s yours!” he spat, sending little droplets of spittle onto my face that I longed to wipe away.
The knife blade glinted against the bright overhead light as he raised it. My blood ran cold. My chest squeezed and burned as I desperately tried to breathe without showing the horror I felt within.
“I really don’t see how it’s m-”
“Bullshit, Lilianne. You ruined all that was good in my life and now it’s time to pay for it. It’s time for you to wear the same scars my wife does. It’s time for you to feel what it’s like to have to look at them every single day and be reminded of all the things that are your fault.”
Oh my God! Jono was even more deranged than I’d realised! I could hear it in the way he said my name, the look in his eyes, the way they burned with deep seated hatred. He wasn’t here for me per se. No. He was here for revenge. To inflict merciless, twisted pain, purely for pleasure.
Jono went from shouting in my face to calm and quiet, and I sure as hell found his second persona infinitely more unsettling.
“It’s time, my darling.” The vindictive undertones in the way he said Darling made my skin break out in an icy sweat.
The knife blade felt cold against my forearm for a split second before it sliced into my flesh. I hissed through my teeth, determined to not give him the satisfaction of crying out. The initial sharp sting turned into a burn when the blood started to well.
There wasn’t much fat on a forearm, and I didn’t need my medical training to know that a cut didn’t have to go overly deep before it connected with bone. I silently prayed that, in the worst-case scenario aside from death, I wouldn’t be left with permanent nerve or ligament damage. I did, however, resign myself to the fact that I would most likely be left with scars—just like Jono intended.
I ducked my cheek to my shoulder to rid the single tear that escaped. I had to prepare Mickey for what they were likely to find.
“One slice down, many more to come, Lilianne. You’ll be a proper masterpiece once I’m finished with you. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Frustration and anger boiled to the surface. “Are you on crack right now?”
That earned me another backhand to my already swollen cheek. That one connected close to my mouth and I felt my lip split open.
“Okay, okay,” I heaved trying to catch my breath while swallowing the tell-tale iron tang of blood.
“I really don’t know what you want me to say. But Hell will freeze over before I give you an apology. I’ve never owed you one. You made a choice to leave me, and I’ve moved on.”
Slice.
I bit the inside of my lips to make them stay shut through the sting.
“Oh yes, my sweet darling, I’ve noticed that mongrel of a man hanging around you.” Jono tsked. He ran his fingers through the blood welling on my arm, mindlessly spreading it around. “I must say, I don’t like him one bit, especially since he’s taken a particular interest in my girl.”
“I’m not your fucking girl! Why can’t you get that into your thick head?”
Jono’s lips curled in deranged satisfaction.
Slice.
Slice.
My composure broke. An infuriated, pain-laced shriek broke free, echoing around the building as I screamed for all it was worth. I screamed until my throat turned raw and my chest burned. It was pointless, futile, but helped release some of the tightly woven fear coiled inside.
Jono stared, patiently waiting for my outburst to be over.
“You were mine first, Lilianne, and he will never have you again. Do you understand me? Do you?”
Slice.
I squeezed my eyes shut and sunk my teeth deeper into my lips, forcing them to remain tightly sealed until the initial sting receded a little.
“You realise that they’re coming for me. He’s coming for me. And when they do, you’ll be so fucking fucked!”
“They don’t know where we are, my darling, and you have no way of contacting them. So, no, no one is coming for you. And if they do, it’ll be too late.”
He looked at my arm and cocked his head to the side like he was contemplating how he could add to his masterpiece.
I was forever grateful he had no idea about the secret connection I shared with Mickey. That part of me I kept to myself when I was younger out of worry I would be shipped off to the mental ward if I talked openly about our ability. For some reason, despite me thinking that I loved Jono back then, it was a part of me I didn’t feel ready to share with him.
Jono clicked his tongue before adding another slice. My teeth clamped together as he smeared his hand through the welling blood, sweeping his fingers up my arm then through my hair, leaving a scarlet trail in the wake of his touch. I tensed when he rounded to my right side where he left dotted finger prints over the virgin skin of my untouched forearm.
Without warning, Jono pressed a savage kiss to my raw, tender lips. The impact snapped my head backward and sent me reeling as he stalked off without a word, leaving me alone and unable to apply the needed pressure to the multiple wounds on my arm.
The adrenaline that coursed through my veins began to subside, giving way to heightened pain and uncontrollable shaking as the shock of the trauma began to sink in.
I closed my eyes, only too happy to follow the torment into the darkness, hoping it would hide me from what was yet to come.
~
Cold metal trailed under my chin and along my jawline. I flinched, trying to move away from the chill, only to freeze a second later when I felt the prick of the tip of the knife press against my neck.
My eyes were drawn to the high windows where the first pink signs of dawn were beginning to break through the dark outside world. My bladder screamed for release, reminding me of the countless hours I’d been tied to the chair.
The blade grazed my swollen cheek bone, pressing briefly before easing again.
“No,” Jono murmured to himself. “Not on this beautiful face. I’m not that cruel.”
His lips curled as he laughed at his own sick joke, then a flash of decision passed over his features. He stepped around my legs to loom in front of me.
“Not that anyone will ever see this beautiful face again. Such a waste...” he trailed off and shook his head slowly, raking his lifeless blue eyes over my body.
I turned my head away from his stare. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. Even the idea of looking at him repulsed me.
Judging by the large, rolling doors and the convex roof of the expansive building, we had to be in some kind of aircraft hangar. Tucked away in the far corner, I spotted a large buggy that resembled a golf cart. I could possibly use that to escape…
“Look at me. Look at me when I tell you to!”
“No.”
My whisper turned into a gasp when his hands wove through my hair and snapped my head back. Now I had no choice but to look up at his seething face. The painful movement momentarily held my attention until I felt the familiar sharp burn of the blade piercing the unmarked skin of my right arm. Jono wasn’t quick about it this time. Nor
the second, or third. The slow, deliberate movements contrasted the anger filled slashes of his movements earlier in the night. He took his time, relishing every reaction my features unintentionally gave away.
It was now time to break me, to see what it took to crack me apart, to push the limits of my body’s tolerance. It was beginning to work too.
Unable to hold the pain at bay, I let my tears flow freely as I felt my inner core begin to buckle under the weight of Jono’s emotional and physical abuse. My teeth clenched to the point where my jaw ached, and I mustered the energy to hiss the one thing that would never change.
“I. Hate. You.”
“You disappointment me, Lilianne. What cruel words from such a beautiful mouth. Too bad you’re a little whore otherwise I would have made love to you.”
I gagged on the bile that burned its way up my oesophagus. “Thank God for small mercies then.” I choked through the blur of hate laced tears.
Never had I felt so vile towards another human being. I was trained to save lives, to find a way to maintain life against all odds. It was what I did on a daily basis and it was my passion. But right now, if the opportunity arose to end Jono’s life, I hoped I could wholeheartedly find the courage to follow through.
“That’s enough!” he yelled, his words echoing around the large, empty expanse. “I’m going to teach you a little thing called respect. And it’ll be one of the last things you’ll remember.”
The point of his knife bit into my skin again. I felt a small pop as it broke the surface. There, Jono stilled and tilted his head as if listening.
Surprise then anger lit his features, and I expected another blow to my face. In complete contrast, he jerked away from me and sprinted towards the hangar doors.
I then heard a sound in the distance that breathed life into my almost extinguished soul.
THIRTY-FIVE
GAGE
MICKEY AND I drove in silence as we breached the city limits. It was a comfort knowing that Mace was right there with us and that Mickey was a direct link to Lil.
He shifted in his seat and grunted. I look over to see him grimacing.
“Problem?”
“Yes and no. My arm is aching like fuck for no reason.”
Taking his left arm off the wheel, he flexed it a few times and shook it out.
I scoffed. “That to me screams too much wanking, mate.”
He shot me a glance and smirked. “I’m right handed, not left.”
“No harm in mixing it up.”
“I don’t give a shit about what you do to get off, all I know is that it’s insanely sore.”
I let out a reluctant chuckle which served to ease the tension in my chest somewhat, silently thankful to have my worry over Lil lessened for a few very short seconds.
“Want me to drive?”
“No,” Mickey snapped and planted his foot when the road lead further from the suburbs.
As it was, I didn’t need to call Matt; he called us before we reached the major intersection with the tree. Mickey fumbled for the phone in is his pocket as he focused on the road ahead. I snatched it from his hand and jabbed the accept button, putting the call on speaker.
“Any new info?” I demanded.
Glancing at the clock, it was after two in the morning. The last few hours had flown by yet dragged at the same time, and it frustrated me to no end that we weren’t any closer to finding Lil.
“Not on their whereabouts,” Matt informed us. “However, more information about Jono Thompson has come to light. He somehow managed to slip out of Australia undetected. Talk about a bloody joke. Heads will roll for this, I can assure you. He’s got multiple arrest records for minor to serious charges ranging from causing public disturbance to domestic violence. Needless to say, the sooner we find my little girl, the better.”
“He’s gonna fucking pay for taking her,” I growled through my teeth.
“Not a doubt in my mind, son. Maim, yes, but no further. Got it? We don’t need a bloody murder-manslaughter charge to deal with as well.”
I huffed and glowered at the phone without replying. The weight of Matt’s expectant silence was unavoidable as he waited for us to answer. Mickey’s expression was as angry as mine felt.
“Josh!” Matt barked.
Mickey pursed his lips. “I’m not gonna make promises I may not be able to keep.”
I interjected. “We! We are not going to make promises we may not be able to keep.”
A look of approval swept across Mickey’s face. He knew I had his back, and now, I was sure he had mine.
Matt cursed and swore under his breath. “Don’t let the heat of the moment cause actions you can’t take back. You don’t want a lifetime with that on your hands. And I’m talking to both of you. That includes Mace, for that matter.”
The edge in Matt’s voice didn’t hide the undertones of knowledge in his statement. Mickey and I shared a look before he spoke.
“Dad, we’re just about at that intersection now. Next update will be from our old place.”
“Roger. And for the love of God, don’t get too close to the house.”
Mickey huffed. “We won’t.”
As soon as I disconnected the call, I turned to Mickey. “You know I’m gonna beat him to a pulp, right?”
Mickey’s gaze didn’t deviate off the road. “We are.”
Our conversation ceased until we pulled to a stop at the end of a driveway that led to the McMillan’s old family home. Mickey squinted through the windshield as if reacquainting himself with his old surroundings.
The driveway was lined with tall trees that stood still and silent in the night. The driveway curved slightly, making the house invisible from the road where it was shrouded amongst established shrubbery.
Mace parked behind us and waited for us to form a huddle in the beam of Mickey’s headlights. We mutually agreed that the property needed to be checked out, but we needed to be wary of getting too close; rural properties often had dogs who would alert their owners to people walking around in the dead of night. The plan: check it out then get the fuck out as quickly and as quietly as possible.
“She’s not here,” Mickey murmured while staring into the darkness. He absentmindedly flexed and rubbed his arm again.
Mace thumbed over his shoulder towards the house. “Wanna check it out anyway just to be doubly sure? You know, like, to see if there’s a single light on or a car matching the description of the one lurking around the last few weeks.”
“Yeah briefly, but stay the fuck quiet!” Mickey hissed.
We avoided the crunching gravel underfoot, picking our way through the grass at the edges and centre of the driveway.
As it turned out, Mickey’s hunch was right; the house held no secrets that would help unlock Lil’s unknown location. We were returning to our vehicles when Mickey’s phone rang out loud. Thank Christ we were a distance from the house. He slapped the phone to his ear and waited.
“Really?” he whisper-yelled into the phone. “Message me the address. We’re just leaving our old place now. Needless to say, nothing out of the ordinary here. I’ll call you later with what we find.”
Mace and I matched Mickey’s pace when he broke into a run while continuing to talk to his father. “No, we will handle it and call for backup if needed.”
He pocketed his phone and relayed the updated information between breaths.
“There’s been a tip off from an old guy called ‘Jones’ whose neighbour is away for a week and asked him to keep an eye on his property. The old guy apparently got up to take a piss and noticed lights on in a private helicopter hangar on the neighbouring property. Lights that shouldn’t be on, nor were they on earlier.”
I was already wrenching open the ute door and throwing myself into the passenger seat as Mickey said a couple extra words to Mace. Mickey slid into the driver’s seat and I heard the engine of my ute roar to life behind us.
Mickey tossed his phone my way when a text alert sounded. I snatc
hed it from my lap and clicked on the map link Matt sent through. Bracing my hands on the dash, I yelled the first set of directions as Mickey conducted a hasty three-point-turn then sped down the narrow rural road with Mace tailgating us, heading the direction we came from.
“Let Lil know, will you,” I demanded.
“I’ve already told her we have a lead, but I don’t want to get her hopes up just in case it’s a cop out.” Mickey paused before continuing with caution in his voice. “She didn’t sound good, mate, and I don’t have a good feeling.” He held up his arm again. “I’m not sure what we’re gonna find because she wouldn’t tell me anything apart from that she’s bleeding, but otherwise okay. Knowing her though, that means that she’s probably not okay.”
My fists curl in rage, digging them into my thighs to try and quell the urge to hit something.
Plenty of time for that later.
The directions to the address led further into the rural abyss, somewhere between Boondocks and Fuck-knows-where. We ended up in a completely different area of Northland. The drive dragged from minutes to over an hour, and I grew increasingly anxious with each passing kilometre.
“Here. Fuck, right here!” I frantically pointed to a batted sign post with a singular tattered post-box underneath.
Mickey slammed on the brakes and gritted his teeth, glancing in the rear vision mirror as Mace’s slightly delayed reaction had him braking hard behind us. I clung to the overhead handle as Mickey took the turn hard and fast, accelerating as soon as we’d juddered across the cattle stop.
The narrow gravel road followed the natural curve of a creek before it forked. Right led to a rundown farmhouse nestled against the outer edges of a small pine plantation, and left led over a precarious looking wooden farm bridge before snaking out of sight behind a small hill.
Mickey dropped down a gear. “It’s gotta be this way. We’ll check if it’s the correct guy. If this is Jones’ property, it’s likely he’s still awake.”
The headlights of my ute bounced in the wing mirror as Mace followed us along the pot-holed driveway. We pulled up at the house and I was out and knocking on the door before Mickey and Mace stepped up beside me. It immediately inched open.