Quake (9 page)

Janny

     
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I miss you.

      Kyle began texting me the night of our breakup and he’s continued to send me messages each of the five days since. I didn’t look at any of them until now. I never should’ve let down my walls with him, what was I thinking? I knew he was trouble from the start, I just convinced myself to give him a chance and now I’m miserable without him. I hate Kyle for making me fall in love with him. Why didn’t I do a better job protecting my heart?

      There are only a couple of weeks of my senior year left and I’ve made the decision to focus on doing the best I can on all my finals. At this moment, I’m at the library making a study guide for my psychology class. Now that I’m not spending so much time with Kyle there’s lots of free time to devote to school. Getting good grades used to be the thing I cared the most about, but not anymore. No matter how angry I am or how much I tell myself I need to forget about Kyle, I can’t seem to stop missing him. I wish I could despise him; it would make getting over him so much easier.

      I’ve also been spending more time with Elle and Josh. They’ve been trying to distract me from the heartbreak of my relationship and I love them both for it. Josh and I had class in the same building this afternoon and when we were done we met up for an early dinner. Being with him is so easy and fun. I wish I could feel the same depth of feelings for him as I do for Kyle. Things would be so much less complicated. With Josh what you see is what you get. Of course I had to go falling in love with the one person I shouldn’t have.

      By the time I’m leaving the library I’m one of the last people there. Exiting the building, I notice the darkness of the late hour. I didn’t realize how much time I’d spent studying. The stars aren’t visible tonight, they’re not helping to brighten up the sky at all. Even the streetlights are off and the darkness feels oppressive. Once I’ve started along the walk back to my apartment I begin having reservations about being out alone this late at night. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end and I’m not sure if there’s a reason for it or if I’m letting my overactive imagination get the best of me. I try to quiet my breathing and slow it down—panicking isn’t going to do me any good. I need to get home as quickly as possible and then I can relax.

      I made it home safely and in record time. When I open the door to my apartment, I breathe a big sigh of relief. I laugh to myself at how ridiculous my behavior of the last fifteen minutes has been. I kick off my shoes, drop my backpack by the door and head to my bedroom to change into something more comfortable. Elle is out for the night with some football player she met at a party so I’m not sure if she’ll make it back here later or not.

      I’m walking to my bedroom when I suddenly feel like something’s very wrong.

But it’s too late.

      When I enter through the doorway I’m grabbed and thrown on my bed. My face is stuffed into the comforter.

      I try to draw a breath to scream, but I can’t. I can barely breathe.

      The hand that’s holding my head feels like the fingers are going to crush the base of my skull. I try to struggle and flail my arms but whoever this is, is pushing me down so hard I can’t move.

      Another hand grabs my right arm and twists it up behind my back until my fingertips are touching the hand holding my head.

   
  This pain is unbearable.

    
I think I’m going to suffocate.

   
  My shoulder is going to pop out of its socket any moment now.

    
My elbow is going to snap.

      Then I hear a voice.
“
Stop
struggling.”

      I want to cry out.

      I want to scream.

      All I can manage is a whimper.

      I hear the voice again. “Shut the fuck up.”

    
I think I’m going to black out.

      The next thirty seconds are a blur of pain and fear.

      I suddenly become aware that there are more than one of them and they know what they’re doing. They’re methodical.

      Before I know what’s happening, my hands are bound behind my back.

      Next, I’m bound at the ankles and then the knees.

      Few words are spoken between them.

      I’m completely at their mercy and I’ve never been more afraid in my life.

      I wish Kyle was here.

      I feel a small pinch on the side of my neck and everything fades away.

Kyle

      The ringing of my cellphone wakes me up. I’m disoriented and hung over from all the whiskey I drank last night. By the time I figure out where it is, the ringing has stopped.

      I slowly sit up and groan from the stabbing pain behind my eyes and the dull ache in my back from drunkenly passing out on my couch. I place my feet on the floor and remain seated, resting my elbows on my knees for a moment to get my bearings. My head feels like it’s full of rocks and I can smell stale whiskey emanating from my pores. I close my eyes, letting my head drop down into my hands. I’m disappointed in myself for how I’ve been coping with the breakup. Drinking my troubles away has never really been my thing and I need to put a stop to this reckless behavior before it gets a grip on me.

      I shower, throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, but it’s not until I’ve eaten some toast and had some coffee that my headache starts to subside. I glance at the clock and notice I’m already late starting my work day, but I can’t say I really give a shit.

      What does it matter? My life is a mess without Janny in it. She’s the one bright spot in an otherwise bleak existence and now she’s gone. I know we’re through and it’s my fault. There’s no one to blame, but myself.

      The ringing of my cell snaps me out of my depressing thoughts and when I see Elle’s name on the caller ID I answer immediately.

      “Hello.”

      “Kyle, is Janny with you?”

     What? Why would she be with me?

      “No. I haven’t spoken with her since last weekend
.
”

      “I think something’s happened to her. She never came home last night and she never
texted or called me to say she wasn’t.” 

      Acid churns in my stomach as I assume this means she spent the night with Josh. My mind is racing. I close my eyes and clench my teeth as I try to come to grips with the very idea of this.

    
“Is she with Josh?” I force myself to ask, even though I know I’m not ready to hear confirmation of my worst nightmare.

      “No, she’s not. I already talked to him and he hasn’t seen her since early yesterday evening. She went to the library after they had dinner and then she never made it home.”

      “Did you call her brother’s house and make sure she didn’t go there?”
She has to be
somewhere.
Again my mind is racing.

      “I did and they haven’t seen her this week at all. I came home this morning, found her shoes and backpack by the door, but no sign of her spending the night here. She has class on Friday mornings and she would never skip it this close to finals. I’m really worried, Kyle, I think something’s happened to her.”

      
I can hear the tears in the tone of her voice and my stomach tightens as the cop in me kicks in.

      “Let me make some phone calls. If you hear from her, you call me right away.”

      When I hang up with Elle, I put in a call to Jack, my old partner from my days as a police officer. I fill him in on what’s going on, he takes down her description and all relevant information. There haven’t been any Jane Doe’s reported, which has me breathing a little slower.

      Once I hang up with him, I log onto my computer and go into my phone account. What Janny doesn’t know, and I certainly wasn’t planning on telling her, is I installed an app on her phone so I can always track where she is. Any leftover guilt I had from doing this behind her back has now vanished. As long as it helps me to find her and bring her home safely, that’s all that matters. I type in her phone number and say a prayer her current location will come up on my screen. I hold my breath and I wait. My stomach clenches, when an address is displayed. It’s a part of the city Janny would never have reason to be in.

      She would never go there.

      She shouldn’t be there.

      Something’s wrong.

      I can feel it.

      I throw on my boots, grab my gun and call Derek as I run out to my car, filling him in on where we need to meet.

Janny

         My eyes are heavy and they struggle to open. My body is achy and my limbs feel unusually heavy while the memory of what happened comes to me. My eyes snap open as I remember every detail. When I realize each of my wrists and ankles are cuffed to the bed I’m lying on, I go into a full blown panic.

     My breathing speeds up.

     I can’t get enough air in my lungs.

     I’m on the verge of hyperventilating and I know if I don’t calm down I’ll pass out. 

     My heart is pounding so fast I swear I can hear it over the ringing in my ears.

    
Fuck.

    
I know this is anxiety, I suffered from it after the fire and had to go to a therapist for months to finally get it under control. Here I am back in its clutches at the worst possible time.

    
Breathe.

    
I close my eyes and focus on getting my breathing to slow down, it’s the first step in stopping the panic attack. It takes longer than it normally does because I’m having difficulty focusing on my breathing exercises when I know I’m cuffed to a fucking bed.

     There’s a sense of urgency permeating my body, fighting with my need to calm down. I don’t know who took me, where I am or when they’ll come back. I do know there’s no way for me to escape at this point and it’s horrifying to think they’ll be able to do anything they want to me and I won’t be able to stop them. I’m totally helpless.

     I know I need to stay as calm as possible so I let my thoughts drift to the one person who made me feel safe—Kyle. I’d give up almost anything to be able to go back and change the outcome of our fight. Instead, I wasted the past five days avoiding him, when I could’ve been deliriously happy in his arms. Now his last memory of me will be of our breakup. I wish I’d looked back at him while I walked away—if I’d looked back I wouldn’t have had the strength to end things with him.

     It feels like I’ve been lying here for days. The twin sized bed I’m on is made up with an old stained sheet, I don’t even want to think about what might be on it. The cement walls and floor in the large square room lead me to believe I’m in a basement. The smell of mold is overpowering to my nose. There’s a damp feeling to the air which is consistent with many unfinished basements in Massachusetts. Why would someone kidnap me and hold me hostage in a house? I replay the events from the night before in my head, hoping to notice a clue as to who’s taken me, but nothing stands out in my mind.

      The silence around me is absolute. My throat is parched and I need to use the bathroom. All of that is secondary to the enormous amount of pain I’m in from having my arms and legs cuffed to the headboard. My shoulders are screaming out in agony and I know there won’t be any relief from the pain any time soon. There’s no way for me to escape and the likelihood of me surviving this is slim to none. God only knows what’s in store for me.

      One glimmer of hope is that Elle will be looking for me when she realizes I didn’t come home. She and I always text each other if we’re spending the night elsewhere and, up to this point, neither one of us has ever failed to follow through on that. My cellphone is still in my back pocket; I can feel the slim shape of it against my ass as I lay here. Thankfully, I still had it set on silent after being at the library. Otherwise, it would probably have been found by now. 

      Hopefully she’ll report the situation to the police, but I know they don’t consider someone missing until it’s been twenty-four hours and honestly, I could be dead by then.

      I know she’ll call Kyle; she’s going to wonder if I’m with him. She’s been on my case, telling me to go over his place and fix our relationship. I don’t know if it’s as easy as she thinks, but being in this situation does put things into perspective. If I could go back five days and do things over I wouldn’t have ended our relationship. I would have tried to work things out with him. I love him and now I’m afraid I’m never going to get the chance to tell him. Tears sting my eyes when I think about how heartbroken he looked as I hatefully told him to never call me again. I hope those aren’t the last words I’ll ever say to him.

      The sound of a key turning the lock rips me out of my thoughts and into the frightening present. Not knowing who’s on the other side of the door has me shaking with fear. I subconsciously hold my breath as the door opens and two men walk into the room. Both of them appear to be in their late twenties to early thirties and I don’t know who either one of them are. Neither is keeping their identity a secret and this has me worried. I can’t help but wonder if it means they plan to kill me.

      “Well, well, well, looks like our little guest is awake,” the smaller of the two says as they walk over to where I’m restrained. “Look at her lying here just waiting for us.”

      He stops at the edge of the bed, leering at me while he rubs his palms back and forth against each other. The blue of his eyes is so light they almost appear to be colorless, giving him a ghoulish appearance. His head is shaved bald, only the barest hint of brown stubble showing and if the sight of him didn’t have me scared enough, the knife he pulls out does the trick. I start to panic and pull at my restraints, whimpering against the tape still fastened over my mouth. He reaches down and tears the tape from my lips. I gasp at the stinging and burning sensation it leaves behind. As much as it hurts it still feels wonderful for it to be gone, to be able to lick my lips and open and close my mouth. 

      His eyes gleam maniacally when he leans over, running the sharp tip of the knife down the middle of my shirt from top to bottom.

      “I want to hear your screams when I fuck you, it turns me on. No one can hear you here so make sure you let them all out—the louder the better,” I cry out as the knife digs into my skin, cutting me. I feel the warm trickle of blood on my stomach as he parts my shirt and slides the knife under the middle of my bra, slicing through the front clasp as if it was nothing. I’m now naked from the waist up and they’re both looking me over hungrily. Fuck. I can’t believe this is happening. I need to stall for time, I need to do something to keep the inevitable from becoming reality. I know once they’re done with me, if I live through it, I’ll never be the same.

      “Who are you? Why am I here?”

      The deep laugh of the tall one makes me twitch in fear.

      “You don’t get to fucking ask questions,” the smaller one shouts at me. “I choose what you need to know. You’re here because of your dear old brother Bryan. He owes someone money and they hired us to get it from him. I’ve decided you’re going to be part of our payment for doing this job. What I want, I get.”

      He cuts through the thin material of my pants, the cold metal scratching along my skin.

     
Oh God.

      I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for the strength to make it through what I know is coming.

      It’s only when I feel my panties, the last barrier between us, disappear and the horribly rough way he shoves his fingers inside me that I begin to scream. I scream like there are demons from hell after me. Their cold maniacal laughter echoes in the room and the larger of the two moves up the bed to stand by my head. When I glance at him out of my periphery I can tell he’s undoing his pants. I scream even louder than I thought possible.

      “I have something to shut your big mouth,” he says and they both share another laugh. I notice the smaller one has pushed his pants down his hips to his thighs. He stands at the side of the bed stroking himself with one hand and brutally assaulting me with the other. I try not to think about the pain of his fingers tearing my tender flesh. I squeeze my eyes shut, tears trickle down the sides of my face and get soaked up by my hair.

      The sensation of something brushing along the curve of my cheek, coming to rest on my lips has me snapping my head in the other direction.

     
Oh my God. No. No. No. If he forces his dick in my mouth I’m going to bite it off.

     
Somehow, the thought of his vile dick in my mouth is so much worse to me than if they both took turns raping me.

      I can’t go through the rest of my life knowing the taste of him—the feel of him in my mouth. A shudder runs through my body at the disgusting thought. He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back toward him, his other hand gripping his dick. The mattress dips when his friend climbs on it, crawling up between my legs.

     
NO.

      
When his fingers dig into the skin on my hips, my mouth opens and I scream as loud as I can.

     
Somebody, please hear me.

     
“Get the fuck off her or I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

      I stop screaming at the sound of Kyle’s voice and I hold my breath, waiting to see what happens.

      He found me.

      “If he doesn’t blow your fucking brains out I will.” I recognize Derek’s voice and I’m relieved Kyle’s not alone.

      The guy by my head holds his hands up in the air and backs away from me. As I glance at the smaller guy perched between my legs I notice the glint of the knife in his hand.

      “He’s got a knife!” I yell just as he turns to throw it. Kyle’s gun discharges like a clap of thunder and is back in his holster before the knife hits the floor. There’s a grunt of pain as the guy slumps off the bed holding his shoulder. Derek grabs the knife from the floor where it landed and then he kicks the guy in the ribs for good measure.

      “Get down on the floor, put your arms behind your back,” I hear Kyle order and then the metal of handcuffs latching.

      “I’ve got them. Go see to your girl.”

      The sound of sirens can be heard and I breathe a big sigh of relief, knowing the police will be taking over the situation.

      “Janny, are you okay?” He removes his sweatshirt and drapes it gently over me, covering my nakedness while he moves from one side of the bed to the other unlocking the handcuffs holding my arms. I bite my bottom lip and nod my head, too overcome with emotion to speak, while he massages my arms one at a time to get the blood flowing again. He undoes the cuffs on my ankles, before he kneels down next to me on the bed and cups my cheek in his hand. I look at him through the blur of my tears and then I start to sob. He pulls me into his lap, wrapping me up in his arms. There’s no place I’d rather be at this moment.

      “I love you,” I whisper, raggedly in his ear while I continue to cry. “I love you and I thought I’d never get the chance to tell you.” I hold onto his neck and burrow myself into his body needing the safe feeling only his arms can give me.