Savage Cinderella (29 page)

He recited the words as she'd heard them
hundreds of times before. The echoes of the past reverberated
through her head. He caressed her cheek with dry, hard knuckles.
Repulsive memories surged to the surface. Holding the glowing end
of his cigarette close to her face, he chuckled at her silent
terror.

Brinn blinked tightly and tried to shut down
as she'd done all those years ago. Cody’s words played in her mind.
Don’t panic. Breathe. Think. React. Struggling away an inch
further, she turned her head abruptly from Stockman’s smug glare.
Darkness folded in around her. She reached for something to keep
her from falling into the blackness.

A small voice in her head spoke clear and
strong, “You’re not alone.” She thought of her mother and father.
They were alive. When she was a child, she'd had no hope—nothing to
hold onto. Her mind flashed to Abby, Mr. Hoffman, and to Cody, and
finally, a crystal clear picture of Justin captured her mind and
held fast. Any confusion she had about her feelings for him and his
feelings for her, faded. Whatever problems they had didn’t matter
now. She had people she loved and who loved her. She had a life
beyond her fears and insecurities. She had reasons to fight. If she
had the chance, she would fight for Justin.

Calling on the Angel of the Forest, she
collected every ounce of power she could find within her and let
out a keening howl that pierced the air.

Stockman pulled away, stumbled out of the
chair, and covered his ears. "What are you doing? Stop that
screeching!"

Brinn continued on, her voice pitching high
and dipping low, producing a wailing chant that filled the cabin
and carried beyond its walls like a siren. She ignored the tearing
pain in her shoulder and the dizziness from blood loss and glared
at Roy Stockman. Her eyes blazed with animal fury. Her body
strained against the leather ties that bound her wrists and ankles.
A burning rage poured through her blood, through her lungs; her
voice escalated.

The man had a mixed look of confusion, anger,
and fear on his face, spurring her to double her efforts.
Ratcheting her voice up another decibel, the ear-piercing sound
reverberated off the stacks of books that surrounded the room like
soldiers.

"I said, STOP!" Stockman covered his ears
with his hands, but his protest fell flat against Brinn's powerful
cry. He started toward the bed and then stopped and spun toward a
loud thump on the front porch. He drew the gun from the back of his
pants and went for the door, still eyeing Brinn with fury.

He barely had the door unlatched and opened a
crack when the towering form of a large black bear forced him back.
Stockman screamed as the bear charged on all fours toward him. A
loud shot rang out and Brinn saw Kitty veer from her path. The big
bear slowed her approach but closed the distance just the same.
Stockman retreated and took aim again, but a massive paw shot
forward. With one ferocious swipe of sharp claws, Kitty sent the
gun flying across the room out of Stockman's grasp. She was
standing on her hind legs, now head and shoulders over the man and
growling down at him. The thunderous rumble reverberated through
the room. Long canines and jagged teeth appeared beneath the
curling lips.

Taken aback, the man clutched his bloody hand
and staggered backward, tripped over the chair, and crashed to the
floor. Kitty left no room for escape. She was on the man in a
flash, deadly claws raking across flesh, teeth snarling and tearing
in vengeful fury. Stockman screamed and struggled to keep the chair
between him and the bear, grasping at any possible protection from
the deadly claws.

Brinn averted her eyes but heard the pained
screeches that escaped Roy Stockman as the great black bear sank
teeth and claws into the leathered hide of the man who had haunted
her dreams for so long. After mere seconds the chaos stilled.

Brinn opened her eyes and looked to the
bloody mess on the floor. Kitty lay motionless, covering the
decimated body of Roy Stockman. He lay still and lifeless beneath
the chair in the corner of her little cabin, stacks of books
scattered about. Brinn let a sob escape her lips and felt the hot
tears of mixed relief and sorrow that ran down her face.

Kitty couldn’t be dead. She was her
friend—the only one she’d had for companionship over those years of
lonely nights and long summer days. She had named the bear cub
after the Diary of Anne Frank, thinking it fitting that both girls
had only one private friend that they could confide in and trust
with their darkest secrets and deepest sorrows. No judgment, no
expectations, just friendship.

Brinn looked around the empty room, a new
fear rising in her chest. She knew she'd lost a lot of blood from
the shoulder wound that burned and throbbed mercilessly. What if no
one came to find her? The ties that bound her wrists and ankles
were painfully tight and the more she struggled to free herself,
the tighter they pressed into her raw flesh.

Crying with frustration, pain, and a mix of
emotions that threatened to drive her into darkness, she gave up
the struggle, closed her eyes, and began to pray. “Angel of the
Forest, hear me. Help me, please.”

A quiet presence fell around her. The shallow
breaths eased and the undeniable force of love swept over her.
Someone would come for her. She had family who loved her. She
wasn’t alone.

Kitty stirred. Brinn snapped her attention to
the grumbling animal. Her heart pounded with relief and excitement.
“Kitty, you’re alive! You saved me, girl.”

The bear staggered to her haunches and then
rose to sniff the air, lifting her upper lip in a wide grin as she
approached the bed. Brinn laughed through the tears that streaked
down her face. “I thought I’d lost you.” Brinn sniffled and nudged
her cheek against the bear’s massive head that rested on the bed
beside her.

Barely a minute passed and Brinn heard
footsteps coming toward the front of the cabin. "Help, I'm in here!
Please, help me!" Brinn called out weakly now, her voice hoarse
from fatigue.

A wave of relief coursed through her body
when a burst of sunshine broke through the door. Justin and Cody
appeared in the gloom of the cabin, the bright sunlight at their
backs. They nearly stumbled back out when they saw first the bear,
and then Stockman’s bloodied body. Justin’s eyes were wide with
shock, but he closed the distance, ignoring Cody’s warning about
the bear.

Kitty, perturbed by the perceived threat,
reared up and stopped Justin in his tracks. Brinn spoke in soft
lyric tones, and the bear settled down beside her again, but didn’t
take her eyes off the newcomers. She sniffed back toward the bed,
growling a guttural response to Brinn’s message, and ambled out of
the cabin, nearly knocking Cody off the porch on her way by. Brinn
could hear the rustle of shrubs parting as her friend limped off
and disappeared into the thicket.

"Brinn, thank God you're all right!" Justin
reached the bed and began untying the knots, his hands shaking with
tension. Seeing the blood-stained shirt and the bullet wound, he
paled. "Oh, God, you've been shot."

Brinn made the effort to smile reassuringly,
"It's not as bad as it looks.” She gritted her teeth, stifling a
groan as her arms were released from their bonds.

She had never been so glad to see anyone in
all her life. Regardless of why Justin had been kissing Charlene,
he was here now. Justin lifted Brinn into his arms and carried her
out of the shadowed cabin into the afternoon sunshine, the rays
streaming through the trees and lighting the small clearing. The
warm sun on her face and Justin's arms holding her tight to his
chest felt like heaven. She started to cry and buried her face in
his shoulder, listening to his soft-spoken whispers of comfort. He
sat on a boulder nearby and held her, rocking back and forth,
holding her on his lap and brushing her tangled hair out of her
face.

"I’m here, Baby. You're safe now. I've got
you. I'm going to take you home. Everyone has been worried sick
about you." He stopped rocking and lifted her chin, a tortured look
in his brown eyes. “I’m so sorry about everything...” his voice was
like warm velvet on her skin as she struggled to stay conscious.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you before he hurt you—I’m sorry I let
you down...”

“
You came after me.” Brinn
cut him off as she fell into the brown pools of his tearful eyes,
no longer caring if she had enough breath left in her to make it
back to the surface. She wanted to swim to the very bottom and not
come up. From inside a foggy haze, she recited softly, “Hope is the
thing with feathers that perches in the soul...”

Justin’s voice whispered along her cheek as
she drifted toward the welcoming depths, “And sings the tune
without the words, and never stops at all.”

Over the Edge

“
Please, Brinn—you have to
be all right.” Justin lifted her face to his, watching her blue
eyes glaze over and flutter open as if she were struggling to focus
on his voice. He held her close, rocking her and thanking God he'd
found her. Her pulse was strong against his fingertips as he
touched the side of her neck.

After muttering a few words and ignoring his
lame string of apologies, Brinn had slipped into unconsciousness.
Hopefully she’d heard his final words of encouragement in reply to
her latest Dickinson quote. As he stared down into her sweet face,
Justin’s heart wrenched. He carefully set her on the ground and
examined her wounded shoulder. The blood saturated the front and
back of her tee shirt. The bullet had torn through the fleshy part
of her arm, but appeared to have missed the bone. The seeping blood
had begun to thicken. He took off his back pack, tore open the
zipper, and furiously rummaged for bandages.

Cody looked on from the doorway, still
surveying the shrubs for signs of the bear’s return, apprehension
lining his rugged features. "She’ll be okay; we got to her in time,
Justin. I’m sure of it. Search and rescue can't be far behind us.”
As if on cue, the distant sound of barking dogs reached Justin's
ears, bringing another wave of relief and drawing his attention to
the cliff’s edge.

A loud thud and a groan called his awareness
back to the doorway. Cody was lying on the ground in front of the
cabin and Roy Stockman stood in the doorway, wild-eyed and bloody,
gun in hand. "Get away from the girl. She’s mine." His voice rasped
with effort.

Justin froze. The man had the gun trained on
him. Blood streamed down his face; his clothes were saturated and
torn. Cody’s motionless body lay sprawled on the ground. The sight
left Justin cold. He faced the man and stood his ground in front of
Brinn. "You aren’t getting your hands on her ever again."

Stockman growled, "I'm not leaving here until
I see her dead!" The man swayed in the doorway, staggered out into
the clearing, and waved the gun as if he were seeking a moving
target. He swiped at the blood that streaked his face and ran in
his eyes. What skin wasn’t covered in blood was gray with
shock.

"I won’t let you hurt her." Justin’s voice
had taken on a sharp edge, his eyes fixed on the wavering weapon in
Stockman's hand. If he moved fast, he was certain he could disarm
the man, but he had to get him to come closer. “The police will be
here any second. You won’t get away.” His voice sounded calm
despite the quivering of his insides.

Roy Stockman glared defiantly at Justin, a
vicious smile curving his lips. "I’ve got two bullets, Kid. One is
for her." Seeking his prey, his dark eyes focused on the movement
behind Justin as Brinn stirred. “Whether the second one is for you
or me—well, I guess that’s up to you. Either way, I’m not going to
prison. Now, move away from the girl!"

Justin tentatively stepped to his left. He
shielded Brinn from the man's view and drew his attention away from
her. The movement seemed to infuriate him further. His torn face
contorted with rage and his good hand waved the gun wildly, the
bloody right hand clutched in a fist at his chest. "I will kill you
where you stand, Boy. Get out of my way!" Stockman took another
step forward.

Lunging for the swaying gun, Justin grabbed
the man's wrist and pointed the weapon skyward. The gun went off
and a loud crack split the air. The two men stumbled backward.
Stockman gained his footing and twisted, catching Justin off guard.
As the two men struggled for control of the gun, their entwined
hands flung the weapon out of reach toward the cabin. Stockman
screamed his rage. He slammed into Justin, and the fight edged
toward the cliffs.

Justin landed a blow in Stockman's gut, and
the man folded at the waist. Instead of dropping to the ground,
Stockman charged with all of his weight behind him. He tackled
Justin low and hard, sending him flailing over the cliff’s edge.
Justin grabbed for the man, but found only empty air. He cried out
as he dropped into nothingness.

With a thud and a crunch of bone, he landed
on a ledge ten feet below. He lay stunned, unable to breathe or
move. The loud crunch he’d heard when he landed now registered as
piercing pain in his side. His breath came in shallow pants and
ragged groans. The hillside below was a steep drop littered with
jagged rocks that could tear him apart. He closed his eyes against
the image and then snapped them open. The sounds from above him
sent new waves of terror into his already thundering heart.

Dead or Alive

Brinn watched the scene unfold from where
Justin had laid her down. Her head felt fuzzy, but the sounds of
Justin and Stockman struggling had woken her enough to grab her
attention. To her utter horror, her first clear vision was of
Justin careening over the edge of the cliff. Her mind blurred with
denial. He couldn’t be dead. Her heart plummeted as her mind
cleared. How could he survive such a fall?