Anticipation swells within me. I glance toward the passenger seat to see my dad’s old hunting rifle propped up against the window. It’s been years since I handled it, but I still remember everything he taught me.
My focus returns to the road ahead. I lean forward, close to the steering wheel, and peek up at the sky. A grayish-pink hue decorates the horizon as dusk approaches. The drive up the mountain took a lot longer than anticipated. The paved highway gave way to gravel mountain roads a ways back and now I feel the isolation of my surroundings. No wonder there is no address for the cabin. Just a spot on the map.
As directed, I look for the next left. The GPS shows that I’m practically upon it but I don’t see the road until I’m only about fifty feet from it. It sits obscure, just a worn dirt road with forest and thick underbrush on both sides. An old sign reads ‘Williput Creek Road.’ I hit the brakes and swerve onto the single-lane path marked out only by parallel tire grooves. The farther down the road I get, the taller the grass is on the sides. Down the middle, it’s overgrown. The car bumps and bounces over the rough terrain and I wish I had a four-wheel drive.
I come to a fork in the road. One continues on to the left and appears similar to the road I’ve been on, with the same amount of wear and tear. The one that veers off to the right looks hardly used, and overgrown to the point I can barely make out the tire paths. Instinct tells me it’s the more nebulous of the two. A well-hidden and camouflaged hiding place.
I turn the wheel and make my way down the path. Though it’s overgrown, I can tell the road has been used recently by the way the tops of the grass shoots bend in the direction I’m going. Nervous tension grips my belly, and for the first time I’m overwhelmed with doubt. What am I doing? Can I do this? What if I fail? Images of a frightened woman tied to a bed, riddled with fear, and stripped of her dignity flash over and blanket the doubt. It doesn’t matter whether my plan works or not. What matters is that I try. I’ll die trying if needed.
Up ahead the road looks like it opens to a field. I pull off the trail and into the tall grass. I don’t want them to hear me coming, so I’ll walk the rest of the way. I can only assume there are two of them, as there were with me, but I just don’t know. Darkness is consuming the last bit of daylight quicker than I’m comfortable with, adding a sense of urgency. I reach across the seat, my fingers wrapping around cold steel, before I slide out of the vehicle. I feel flushed, fevered. Heat rises within me, boiling my blood with a visceral need to set things right.
As I approach the clearing, a wood building comes into view off to the right. The depravity of it sends a shiver up my spine. It’s not even a house. It’s merely a rundown shelter of sorts. The kind of thing thrown together in haste. Four walls surrounded by two-foot-high grass shoots and dirt. It’s quiet. Too quiet. And there’s no car in sight. Terin went missing over twenty-four hours ago. A sinking feeling overwhelms me. Am I too late?
Darting forward, I hunch low, bending my knees while cutting through the grass to reach the shelter. At the door, I hesitate. I want to look inside before I barrel in. I want to know what I’m up against. I round the corner. There are no windows. I circle quietly, making my way around the building. A broken board about hip height pokes out from the back corner. I sidle up to the wood planks and kneel down, pressing my face against the dusty wood. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
At first, I see only a stark room with dirt floors. Streams of light filter down through breaks in the ceiling, revealing thick dust floating in the air. A table sits to the right of the door with various items spewed over it, but I can’t make out the details of what they are. The center of the room is bare. My heart skips a beat when I finally see a blinking red light on the far side of the room. My mouth goes dry, and I have a hard time swallowing. Everything that camera represents threatens to break me all over again. It points toward the corner I’m perched at. Shifting my weight, I try to peer in at an angle to see the area it focuses on.
At first I see nothing. I press my face harder against the wood and squint to get a better look. There. Something in the corner, on the floor. Two bare feet. I can see what looks like a woman’s dainty legs but I can’t see past her upper thighs. Bare thighs. They lie limp.
Please don’t be dead.
I pull away, my breath shallow and quick, mulling over my options. Her captors are gone. I can’t imagine them leaving for long at all if she’s alive.
Panic engulfs me.
Fuck, I’m too late.
I stand and waver as the blood rushes to my head from crouching so long. Before I fully recover, I start toward the front of the building, my gun clenched tight by my side. The front door lacks a handle, so I push it open. It squeaks and sunlight spills over my shoulder into the dim room. The lifeless body lays in a heap in the corner. I rush to her side and bend down and pull the hair away from her face. It sticks to her cheek, crusty with her own blood and filth. Her face is black and blue and swollen from her beatings. My heart breaks. Rage seethes through the sadness as tears spill down my cheeks.
My friend. My beautiful friend.
I glance over her body as she lies on her side, naked and broken. Under the dirt and bruises her skin is creamy porcelain and soft. I fall onto my ass and stare up at the ceiling, sobbing out loud to the universe. “Why, why, why?”
“Fuck you!” I don’t know who I’m yelling at. Is it these atrocious men? Is it God? Am I yelling at myself? “Fuck you!” I kick my feet out and continue to scream and cry out in agony.
My foot makes contact with Terin’s lifeless leg and she moans.
I draw my foot back and scramble to my hands and knees. Bending low, I place my face close to hers and listen for breath. I can’t hear anything or feel warmth from her lips. I touch my fingers to her arm. Her skin is cool but not cold. Gently, I find the spot on her inner wrist and feel for a pulse. It takes a second, but my heart races when I feel a thready, weak beat against my fingers.
She’s still alive. Thank God. They’ve left her for dead.
My hands shake as I gently roll her to her back. “Can you hear me? I’m here. Don’t be afraid. You’re going to be okay.”
Her eyelashes flutter but she doesn’t open her eyes. I strip out of my thin jacket and lay it over her body, rubbing my hands vigorously over her arms and legs to stimulate her. She moans again, and this time her eyes flitter open, swimming around as she struggles to focus on her surroundings. The pupils dilate. She appears drugged.
“Tessa?”
“You’re all right. Just hang in there. Help is on the way.”
She mumbles incoherently.
I lean closer. “What? Say it again.”
Her head lolls listlessly to the side but she uses her strength and glances up at me with crossed eyes. “Coming…back.”
At barely a whisper, I can still make it out. I turn and take in my surroundings. “They’re coming back? Are you sure?” I hunch over and look her in the face. “How many are there?”
Her eyes roll back in the sockets and it looks as if she’s passed out. Then the eyes flutter again but don’t open. She whispers, “One. Just one.”
Again, I sit back and take in my surroundings. With daylight nearly gone, visibility is waning. I need to get her out of here. She needs a doctor. I’m guessing she may be bleeding internally and suffering from God only knows what other injuries. And hypothermia is settling in too.
Before I decide what my next step will be, the door of the shack flies open and a male figure bursts through the door.
“What the hell?”
I reach for my gun and leap to my feet as he hurls himself across the room. Before I’m fully upright, his hefty weight slams into my body and knocks me to the floor. My head hits the floor with a sick thud and the room spins as I try to remain conscious. Terin groans. Blind, I kick and struggle to push the man away from me, but his arms are locked around my waist and I’m unable to find leverage against his weight. When he lets go and sits up, he reaches for my neck. As his han
ds wrap around their target, I buck up with my hips as hard as I can, like Tobin taught me. As his body lurches forward with the momentum, he loses his grip and his balance. I seize the opportunity to roll out from under him. But as I roll away, he grabs my waist again. Now I’m at an angle to him and can reach around, wrapping my bicep around his neck. He fights. I twist and wriggle my body, fighting him with every ounce of my strength, every bit of my will, every drop of my unleashed fury. Finally, I find myself clinging to his side, one arm cinched tight against his throat as he writhes to regain control.
Flashes of my last lesson with Tobin spring forward. Hold on and don’t let go, Tobin whispers in my ear.
He kicks and punches in an effort to break away. Blows hit my ribs and stomach, and I think I may pass out, but I can’t let go. I bring my other arm around and use it to cinch the other arm tighter around his airway. He spits and sputters but continues to fight. I close my eyes and use all of my strength.
I know if I can just outlast him, I will win.
The blows to my core finally lessen in strength. Guttural, desperate sounds strain from his lips. Even when his body slackens and his grip falls away, I keep my arms tight around his neck. I’m not sure how long I hold his body against my own, but when I open my eyes, it feels like time has stopped. Silence engulfs the shack. The only sound I hear is the relentless pounding of my heart in my ears. I release his form and let him fall to the side on the dirt floor.
I glance toward Terin. She moans quietly in the corner. Sirens scream out in the distance. Tobin is on his way. I crawl over the man’s body and pick up my gun. I look to the camera across the room. I stand and face it, imagining Tom on the other side, though I know he’s not there. I march toward it, stopping just inches before it so that he sees my face clearly.
I stare into the lens, angry and vengeful, and deliver my message.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
A knocking on the door jolts Tom out of a blissful dream state. He rolls over and looks at the clock. Five in the morning. He grumbles and pulls the covers over his head, hoping he imagined the knocking and wishing the blissful dream to return.
Pound, pound, pound.
“Fuck!” Tom tosses the covers to the side and crawls out of bed, eager to put a stop to the pounding at his door. “Who the fuck is knocking at my door at this time of morning?” he grumbles, tying his robe as he descends the stairs with eyes still half shut.
He peeks through the peephole on the front door. Faint daylight reveals an empty doorstep. Swearing under his breath, he unlocks the door and peeks out. No one is there. The neighborhood is quiet. His neighbors are sleeping. As he closes the door, he glances down and sees an object on the stoop.
He pauses and bends down to pick it up. It’s an SD card for a camera. Just like the one he’s used to receiving, but not like this. Not delivered in this manner. His heart skips a beat with anticipation. He snatches the card and takes another look over the neighborhood to makes sure no one is watching before he slams the door closed.
He rushes up the stairs to his study, where he always watches his private videos. He wonders what is going on while he locks the office door and prepares to watch the contents of the card. Knowing his current victim was out there, he’d been expecting a card soon, but not quite yet.
In his robe, he sits in the leather recliner and waits on the edge of his seat for the screen to come alive. At first, he’s confused. A girl lies in a heap in the dark corner of the room. The girl he’s targeted so perfectly this time. As payback for Tessa’s escape.
He wonders why the video has skipped ahead. He grasps the remote and tries to rewind, but it appears he’s at the beginning of the footage. Where’s the rest of it? The beginning? Anger wells up. This guy fucked it all up. He’s erased all of the video. “Shit, stupid asshole.”
He hits play and waits to see what is left of the video. When another woman cuts across the room and approaches the body of the woman, he holds his breath. “What in the hell is this?” he utters quietly and scoots to the edge of his seat.
He leans forward, narrowing his gaze, taking in what he’s witnessing.
“Oh, fuck.” He recognizes the woman. “Tessa?”
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, inching forward so that he’s barely in the chair. His lips part in astonishment as he watches Tessa cry and scream, distraught over her friend’s body. Then she is attacked by the man he hired to do the job. Fascination and horror intertwine as the scene unfolds. A nightmare coming to life before his very eyes. How did she get in there? Will he watch her die finally? Is this the unexpected surprise? If so, he will have to pay more for this grisly twist.
The blood drains from his face as he watches their struggle and Tessa gradually overcomes her attacker. Her face is red, her expression haunting, as she closes her eyes and strangles to death the man he hired. In his cabin.
When she drops his body to the floor, Tom gasps and slides off the chair to his knees. “No, no, no.”
Tessa crawls to her gun, picks it up, and faces the camera. She marches forward and leans into the camera. Tom leans in, as if she is face to face in the room with him and he is desperate yet terrified to hear what she has to say.
The sound of sirens wail off in the distance, breaking into the horror of what is unfolding here in his study. He hears it filter in like a bad dream but can only focus on the woman on the screen.
“Tom, look at me.”
Tom leans forward as Tessa beckons. Lured by her demand. Her eyes are wild, her short choppy hair in disarray. He barely recognizes her from the feeble, weak woman she once was, to this fierce, frightening woman filled with fury.
He looks her in the eyes and shivers. Impending doom knocks on his door.
“Tom. You sick motherfucker. Your time is up. I could come there and kill you myself, but this is so much better. You’re going to rot in a prison and become some angry fucker’s bitch. It’s going to be long, and painful, and oh so deserved. And I…I will haunt your dreams forever.”
He shakes his head in disbelief as the sirens grow louder. He looks around the room, contemplating his escape. The sirens are real and closing in fast. Just down the street.
“Tom.”
Unable to resist, he turns and listens again.
She pauses, then slowly, a grin widens her pretty mouth. He trembles.
“We’re coming for you.” It’s a whisper this time, but she might as well have screamed it, because it slams into him like a freight train. The screen goes blank.
Tom turns and darts toward the door, scrambling to unlock it. The sirens scream louder and he knows they’re out front. As he rushes to his bedroom, police bust through the front door yelling for him to stop, lie on the ground face first, hands out to the side.
Every option imaginable races through his mind: run, fight, suicide. His vision clouds and blurs as the unimaginable occurs and men tackle him and wrestle him to the ground. Shame and fear overwhelm his senses. He begs for it to all be a dream. He begs for death.
“It wasn’t me. This is a mistake,” he pleads, knowing it’s to no avail. He’s been caught. He always knew he would be.
As they haul him to his feet and shove him down the stairs and out the front door, he looks for her. He knows she’s there. Watching. He sees his old college friend, Tobin, first. Standing by his police car. Keeping a distance as his fellow officers do their job.
When he finally spots her, she is at the edge of the ruckus, standing on the other side of Tobin’s car. Her face is unreadable. Stoic and impassive. Only her eyes tell her story. They stare him down with the fire of revenge and the smugness of a battle won.
She uncrosses her arms and lets them fall to her side.
Displayed over her chest, in the center of the t-shirt she wears under a denim jacket, is the symbol of a phoenix rising from its ashes.
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Acknowledgement
I want to give a big Thank You to my sweetheart, Chayne. You came into my life when I was at my lowest and just learning to tap into my own sense of power as a woman and as a single mother. You have been patient and loving, but most of all, you have shown me that men of true integrity do exist.
My family is blessed to have you in our lives. I love you with all of my heart.
About the Author
Michelle Bellon lives in the Pacific Northwest with her four quirky and beautiful children. She loves coffee, Superman, rollercoasters, and has an addiction to chapstick.
She works at a surgery center as a registered nurse and in her spare time writes novels. As a multi-genre author, she has written in the categories of romance suspense, young adult, women’s fiction, and literary fiction. She has won four literary awards. You can visit Michelle’s website at:
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Michelle Bellon, Breathe In
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