Skin Deep Page 25

  I looked at the couch which is where I determined the screams had come from since they’d died down to non-stop whimpers, and smacked my forehead with my hand. Oh, God.

  Buffy…nope, still not any better in the light of day and sober…was lying paralyzed on the couch, her eyes locked unblinkingly on the large yellow lab sitting smack dab in the middle of her chest looking down into her face. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water and I leaned closer to hear what she was saying.

  “What…what does it want? Help me!” she whispered.

  I stepped closer to the loveseat, tripping over my brother who was sprawled on the floor in front of her, still sleeping like the dead. I caught myself and peered down over Doug’s head to see if I could figure out what had him transfixed. I nodded my head and reached down into the brunette hair of the poor girl. I pulled my hand back again and tossed Doug the piece of popcorn I’d dug out of her hair and he jumped down off of her as soon as he swallowed it.

  “See? All better,” I said.

  “He seriously was that intense about a piece of popcorn? I thought he was attacking me!” she shrieked. She leaned down and smacked my brother, yelling at him to get up and take her home, away from crazy dogs and freaky people.

  When Calland finally got up and, grumbling, headed out to take…her…home, I turned to Allie who was trying to shuffle nonchalantly back into Brandon’s bedroom. I raised my eyebrow at her and she turned her head every which way but backwards trying to avoid my gaze, before I shrugged and let her escape. I would definitely find out the details of whatever happened later.

  Luke came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my neck and asking me to come back to bed with him. So I did. Boy was I glad I did!

  Chapter 23

  Six o’clock and it was finally time for me to go home! I’d had a client call and ask if they could come in late to sign some papers that we’d drawn up and he’d not made it in until quarter ‘til six. I’d driven to work today because I knew I’d be a little late, so I headed out to my car, pulling my cell phone out and calling Luke to let him know I’d be there shortly.

  It was almost April and the weather had actually warmed up just a bit like spring, but had turned dreary and drastically cold again today. Typical Ohio weather. I pulled my sweater close to me as I walked toward my car, the wind cutting through my thin slacks.

  Luke and I had settled into a routine over the last couple months, and it honestly was the best feeling in the world. I was in love with a wonderful man who treated me like a freakin’ queen, made love to me whenever and wherever he could, and we’d started planning our wedding.

  Jackson’s plans for his house were almost finished and they would begin breaking ground in two weeks, as long as the weather held. He and Brandon were walking around like they’d lost their best friend because, well…they kinda had. After the drunken fest back in January things had been different with them. Allie was pushing them away but they didn’t want to be pushed and I couldn’t get her to tell me what the hell was wrong with her. She had finally given me details about what happened that night since I’d seen her making out with both of them, but she still swore that nothing else really happened. She said that they just all made out, a lot of kissing, heavy petting, and then sleeping. I didn’t know if I believed her completely or not, but I figured she probably was telling the truth because Brandon’s big mouth hadn’t shouted otherwise.

  Calland had dropped that girl off and never saw her again. I think he realized she was in over her head with him and he’s gone through probably twenty more girls since then. I keep telling him to grow up and not be such a whore, but he doesn’t listen. Doesn’t even listen when I tell him his dick is gonna shrivel up and fall off if he isn’t careful.

  I reached my car and hit the unlock button on my key fob to get in. Before I could get the door open, I felt a hand tap my shoulder. When I turned my head to see who it was, I cried out at the sharp pain that burst through my head and my world went black.

  The drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet woke me up and I groggily reached out to shake Luke awake and make him go fix it. My hand kept going, encountering nothing but empty space and I froze, fuzzy memories slamming back into place. I brought my hand up to touch the side of my head, near my temple, wincing when with pain when I touched it, my hand coming away wet. Panting in fear, I scrambled up and opened my eyes, my back against a cold, hard concrete wall. I couldn’t see anything because the room I was in was pitch black.

  I opened my mouth to scream and realized that my lips wouldn’t open. My hand flew up to my face, feeling the slick stickiness of some kind of tape across my mouth. I fumbled around, trying to find the edge of the tape with my fingertips so I could pull it off. I could hear the muffled sound of whimpering and I looked around in panic before I realized that it was me. I finally located the edge of the tape and lightly scraped with my fingernails to raise it in order to peel it off, but in my panicked haste, I scraped too deeply, wincing when my nails jabbed into my own cheek.

  I was picking at the edge to loosen it some more when I heard the scrape of footsteps somewhere above me. I froze, crouching down against the wall at my back and staring hard into the darkness, trying to discern where I was, or to see if there was anything around me that I could use as a weapon. When I heard the footsteps stop and a door open, I quickly laid back down, frantically trying to calm my breathing and remember how I was laying when I woke up.

  My mind was racing, trying to formulate some kind of plan but all I could come up with was to pretend I was asleep until I could figure something out. I heard heavy stomps coming down what sounded like wooden stairs so I was presuming I was in a basement of some type.

  I closed my eyes and laid still, trying to regulate my breathing, but I was breathing so hard I had little hope of it working. I flinched without meaning to when a bright light streamed out of the darkness against my eyelids and the footsteps moved toward me.

  “I know you’re awake, sweetheart.”

  His raspy voice sent shivers through me and I knew for certain that Creepy had taken his game to a whole new level. I could feel myself tensing, my anger rising. I was pissed off at myself for letting my guard down, for feeling safe again when I should have known better. And I was pissed to the fucking tits that this crazy asshole had gotten his hands on me.

  My skin crawled as thoughts bombarded me from every direction, my stomach turned queasy. I hadn’t thought to check the state of my clothes. I knew I had them on, but were they torn? Opened? Was I missing anything? Did he touch me? Oh, God, had he gone further than that?

  I gave up the pretense of sleeping, both of us knowing full and well that I was awake. I opened my eyes, squinting and blinking in the brightness of the flashlight aimed directly in my face. I tried to see beyond the beam of light, but he was just a shadow in the darkness behind it. I sat up and scooted back against the wall again, pressing my back to it and bringing my knees up protectively in front of me.

  “I cant believe I finally have you here. Jesus, do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He chuckled, the sound sending chills down my spine. “And here you are, so beautiful, so silent.” He stepped closer to me and I tensed before he continued speaking. “What did you do to yourself there, sweetheart? Trying to take the tape off? I’ll help you with that but you have to close your eyes.”

  I shook my head slightly, cringing when it made me dizzy.

  The man’s voice hardened. “Yes, you will close your eyes or I’ll fuckin’ knock you out again, Emma. Do it. NOW.”

  Not seeing any other choice, I squeezed my eyes shut, whimpering when his rough fingers touched my face, gripping the edge of the tape and ripping it viciously off of my mouth. I screamed at the instant intense pain that seared across my face, bringing my hands up to cover my burning lips. I felt wetness there, and opened my eyes, only to shut them tightly again as he backhanded me across the face.

  Holding my face gingerly between my p
alms, I stammered, “What..what do you want wi-with me?”

  “You’ll find out. Keep your fucking eyes closed,” he bit out.

  I cried out again as he thrust some kind of material against my face, pushing it so hard against my face that my head jerked back and cracked against the concrete of the wall behind me. Without caring, he tied the fabric tightly over my eyes, my hair tangled up in the knot and making my eyes water even more than they already had been from earlier.

  After he blindfolded me he jerked me to my feet. I stumbled and he caught me, his hands roughly grabbing at my shoulders, so hard I knew that I would be bruised. Inside my head I laughed at myself, knowing that bruised shoulders were the least of my worries right now.

  He shoved me back against the wall, his hand sliding to encircle my throat, pressing up and squeezing until I was gasping for air. I felt him slide his other hand down my shoulder onto my breast, pinching the tender globe so fiercely that I screamed.

  His breath bathed hotly over my ear, the fetid stench of it curling into my nose and making me gag as he whispered, “See what happens to bad little girls who fuck around with trash? You’re mine, Emma. I told you that and you chose to keep flaunting your indiscretions in my face. Did you think I’d just go away? Leave you alone?” He squeezed my throat even tighter, and I gasped as everything went grey and fuzzy as I started to slip under.

  Apparently sensing that I was to the point of passing out, he released me and I slid down the wall, gulping air in between dry heaves. My stomach was rebelling but nothing was coming up, and I almost counted it as a blessing.

  “Please…” I gasped. “Let me go. I don’t even know who you are and I wont say anything. I promise, just let me go!”

  “You know, you sure beg pretty. What are you gonna do for me, sweetheart, to make me want to do that? Any suggestions?”

  I knew what he was hinting at and there was no way in hell I was going there, but then it hit me. If I could get him close enough I could possibly take him by surprise. He’d left my hands untied, and my feet weren’t bound either.

  Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Whatever you want.”

  I heard his breath quicken, could imagine the thoughts rolling through his nasty mind, and swallowed back the bile that started to rise in my throat.

  “For starters, I think that I’ll fuck that traitorous little mouth of yours. How about that, little one?” He stepped toward me again, the scrape of his boots giving him away, allowing me to brace myself. I heard the rasp of a zipper being released and a small whimper escaped through my lips. “Now, I gotta tell you, sweetheart, you try anything funny and you’ll regret it. I’ve got a knife with your name on it right here, and while I’d hate to mark up that gorgeous face of yours, I won’t hesitate to do it. Bring your hand up here and hold my dick, bitch.” He laughed as he reached for my arm, jerking it up until my fingers brushed hot, turgid skin.

  Fighting against the nausea, I allowed him to wrap my fingers around that insignificant part of him, holding my fingers tightly in his grasp as he thrust himself against my hand. He finally dropped his hand after a minute, his hips moving in a stuttering see-saw motion. As soon as he dropped his hand, I closed my fingers around him in a punishing grip, digging my nails into his most tender flesh and bringing my other hand up to grab, twist, and yank down violently on his balls.

  I heard an inhuman scream and my ears rang as his hands flailed wildly, landing a solid hit against the side of my head, thankfully on the opposite side from where he’d hit me earlier. I jumped to my feet, shoving against him with all my might and trying to do as much damage as possible before he fell backwards, and I let go, turning to run as I ripped the blindfold off.

  He’d dropped the flashlight when he’d caught me and I’d ended up kicking it when I jumped up, so now it was spinning wildly on the floor and I tried desperately to catch a glimpse of the stairs in the rotating flashes of light. Knowing I had only seconds, I took off across the room, hoping that I could find the stairs and make it up them before he got up again.

  By some miracle I found them and pounded up them at breakneck speed, throwing myself through the door at the top. I lost my balance and fell, scrambling to my feet as I heard him bellow down below, his heavy footsteps sounding like thunderclaps as he hit the bottom of the stairs. Whirling, I took off again and found myself in a kitchen, but I couldn’t see a way out. My heart was pounding and I was gasping for air, but I tamped down the panic threatening to overtake me and reached for the butcher block of knives sitting in plain view on the counter.

  As soon as the blade I chose cleared the wooden block it was sitting in, I heard him step into the room. He stopped in the doorway, his face a mask of fury. He’d neglected to shove himself back into his pants…either that or he was in too much pain to do it…and I could see with sickening clarity the damage I’d wrought. It hung there, already bruising, a bloody and limp mess.

  I raised the knife, holding it tightly in my hand. “You. Little. Bitch,” he growled at me. “You will pay for that. And oh, oopsie! You’ve seen my face now, so do you think you’re getting away from me now? Uh-uh…I don’t think so, sweetheart. Drop the knife and get over here.”

  I stayed where I was, the knife wavering slightly in my trembling hand. I forced myself to study his face, memorizing every inch of it, forcing myself to think…where had I seen him before?

  I straightened a bit as it hit me, my hand steadying as I still held the knife up. “John Frank.”

  “Oh, ho ho! Look who finally figured it out! What do we have for her, Johnny?” John yelled.

  “Why, John? You were a client of Floyd’s, he helped you out! I helped you!” My voice rose with every word and I fought to calm myself, not wanting to set him off. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a cell phone lying on the microwave stand not five feet from me. God, if only I could get to it…

  “You were so nice to me, Emma. You know, I’d just lost my mom and my brother to that fucking car accident. I didn’t know what to do. I called every attorney in the book almost, trying to find someone who would give me the time of day to help me out. Everyone…all them bitches…just pushed me to the side, take a message, take a message, blah blah blah…but you were nice. You explained things to me.”

  I nodded, saying, “Well, that’s what I’m there for, John. You came in and we started the process, didn’t we? Getting everything probated and working on the personal injury side of things from the accident? You remember, right?” I tried to keep my voice steady and my breath caught as he closed his eyes for a second.

  I took that time to silently step to the side, closer to the microwave stand where the cell phone was. I stopped again as his eyes opened.

  “You did. You helped me, you made me feel special.” His eyes flashed and his face hardened again. “But I was just another fucking job to you. I asked you out after everything and you laughed at me. LAUGHED!”

  I winced and tried to calm him down again. “No, John, I didn’t laugh at you. I smiled at you. Smiled…remember?”

  He shook his head but I could see that he was confused. “No, you laughed. You told me that you wouldn’t go out with me and I wanted you. No, I fuckin’ needed you! I didn’t have anyone else and once you were done and everything was settled, you chalked me up and moved on to the next. We had something special, you dirty, fucking bitch!” He was screaming now, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and I could read the intent in his eyes just as he lunged toward me.

  I moved quickly, jumping to the side and swiping the cell phone from the stand with one hand as I blindly struck out with the knife in the other. I screamed as my arm was caught in a vice grip, fingers digging painfully into the pressure points in my wrist until my fingers went lax, releasing the knife to clatter to the floor. I don’t know how but I managed to hold on to the phone and keep it tucked out of view as he backhanded me across the face again. I felt my skin split on my cheekbone, and then my mouth filled with blood as he hit me again, my teeth teari
ng into the tender inside of my cheek and lips.

  The second blow spun me around and knocked me down to the floor. I saw him bend down to grab me again and kicked out with my foot, grinning maniacally as my heel connected with his nose, a spray of hot blood splattering my face. While he was dazed, I shoved my hand under the microwave stand with the cell phone in it, thanking God that it was an old flip phone with actual buttons to push. I started yelling, trying to cover up any sounds the phone might make while I blindly felt for the correct buttons to push, praying that my fingers found 911.

  I felt John’s hand slam down on my thigh, tightening as he tried to pull me to him as he knelt on the floor where he’d dropped. I rolled, scrambling for purchase on the tile floor and finding none, but I managed to get my face close enough to see under the stand where the phone screen was lit up with 911. I hit send and let the phone go, leaving it hidden beneath.

  I felt strangely disconnected from myself during the rest of the ordeal. Like I was watching myself, not in my body; I’d retreated to a safe place inside myself where I couldn’t feel the blows raining down on me.

  I watched, dazed, as my mouth opened and I screamed the monster’s name over and over and over again, screaming and sobbing and begging all the while, but I was doing it in a calculative way. I knew that the dispatcher would be listening. I knew she’d begin tracing the number, looking up the name that I was sobbing and screaming.

  Just as I knew that she would run to the bathroom and puke her guts up, crying into the toilet at the horrendous things she had heard afterward.

  Facts of life. You know, like one and one is two. The sky is blue. A can of camouflage spray paint has only one color in it, so its not really camouflage. The camouflage only comes together when you have one can of each color of camouflage paint. Dogs have fur. The dispatcher puking and crying was one, too. That’s how I knew she would.