Clash (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dylan

“Motherfucker,” I groaned when I came to. My head pounded and my shoulder ached. Looking around, I realized my truck was on its side, and the reality of the situation came rushing back.

Through the pain, I pushed my way out of the broken window and began looking for my phone. Blood ran down my face and covered my shirt, but I didn’t care. My injuries weren’t important; I had to find Payton.

Sirens in the distance screamed as they grew closer and closer.

The cars and lights approaching seemed to blur and come into focus, only to blur once again. I braced myself against the tree my truck collided with and leaned forward, feeling like I may be sick.

“Son, are you okay? What hurts?” A hand gripped my arm, attempting to stabilize me. I looked up at a policeman and he instantly grew hazy. “You need to sit down before you fall.”

“I can’t,” I said as I tried to move away from him. “He took her.”

“Who took who, son?” the cop asked.

The nausea returned and I took in a deep breath, trying to keep from vomiting.

“John Walters. He just got out of prison for years of abusing her, and he took her. She was screaming and I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I have to help her.” The bile rose in my throat and my heartbeat felt like it was pounding in my ears.

“Who did he take?” the officer asked in a calm tone.

“Payton, his daughter. He’s gonna hurt her and I have to stop him.” The space around me began to spin, and I sunk to the ground as the cop tried to hold on to me.

Everything went black.

***

I could hear her screaming for help, yelling my name, begging me to save her. Her cries grew further and further away as I ran in her direction.

But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t reach her.

The car sped away, and the last thing I saw was her pleading stare through the back window.

My body jerked and my eyes flew open. I looked around the room—machines were beeping and the blank white walls stared back at me.

Reaching up, I felt a bandage wrapped around my head; my left arm was in a sling, secured to my chest. My shoulder hurt like a bitch with every movement.

“Dylan.” I looked up to find my mother rushing into the hospital room with Carter at her side.

“Did they find her?” I asked, because right now, it was the only thing I cared about.

I could already tell they hadn’t by the look on my mother’s face, but it was my brother who spoke up. “They’re looking. They, um…” He put his hands in his pockets and hung his head. “They know what car he’s driving due to a rental ticket he left in his apartment. Apparently he was working in some factory just outside of Bloomington and shared an apartment with one of the guys he works with. He didn’t show up for work today, and the roommate let the cops inside to confirm he wasn’t there.”

I sat up in bed, wincing at the pain it sent through me.

“He’s been watching her, Dylan,” Carter added.

“What?”

“He had some fucking log, where he was tracking her movements. He knew where you lived and where she worked. Hell, he even knew the fraternity and all the classes she took, what times and what buildings.” Carter shook his head. “He was just waiting for the right time to grab her.”

I had no idea what to say. I spent every moment since we moved in together chauffeuring her around, taking care of her, but it didn’t stop him. He still found a way to hurt her.

“You have to stay calm, Dylan,” my mother told me as she sat down on the bed beside me.

“Tell me how to do that,” I said, looking up at her. My mind raced with the images of what he could be doing to her this very moment. “He took my fiancée, and there is not a fucking thing I can do about it. I’m just supposed to sit back and remain calm while he may be torturing her?”

“Your fiancée?” my mother asked, a small smile covering her lips.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I asked her Christmas morning, but we hadn’t had a chance to tell anyone yet. We were…” I paused, unsure how to explain to my mother that Payton and I couldn’t keep our hands off one another for the two days following the proposal.

“You were celebrating,” Carter said. A huge knowing grin covered his lips. I only nodded, because his comment explained it all.

“I can’t sit here and wait. It’s killing me, Mom. She could be anywhere, and to think of what he could be putting her through.” My voice cracked as I tried to hold it together.

“You can’t think that way,” my mother added, trying to remain positive. “They’ll find her Dylan. We have to believe that.”

Chapter Thirty

Payton

“Payton, wake up.” Someone roughly shook me. “We’re here.” I opened my eyes and scrambled back before John grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the car, hard.

I tried to resist when I noticed he was dragging me to a darkened building. It appeared to be abandoned, as the windows were boarded up and the door had a condemned sign pinned to the front.

My resistance only caused John to hit me across my face with a closed fist. I could immediately taste blood, and the impact made me bite down hard. “You better listen to me, you dirty slut! You give me any more problems and I will make you wish you were dead!”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream, but I knew no one would hear me. I also knew I would only get hit again, or worse. I walked along with him as he held my wrist tightly, jerking me around like some rag doll. I took the time to look around for anything familiar. I could still see the water tower that was near the café. It was very far off in the distance, but at least I knew we were still near Bloomington. That small amount of information gave me a tiny sense of hope.

When we were inside the old building, he took me to a room with a door and no windows. He jerked me around and shoved me against the wall hard. “You better decide quickly whether you want to work with me or against me. Either way you and I have some time to make up for. Because of you, I spent two years behind bars. I say you owe me now.” He smelled like alcohol; familiarity washed over me, remembering all the years I spent living in hell with him while he drank excessively.

“You know where Maggie is and you’re gonna tell me. That is unless you want to play a very tough game of me torturing it out of you.” He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. The sound of it locking only made the fear within me grow.

I slid down the wall and let the tears fall silently. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I let my guard down. I stopped worrying about him and the damage he could cause and became wrapped up in the idea I could be happy. But the sad part was I would never be truly safe as long as John was free.

I looked around for anything that I could use for a weapon. The room was completely empty, not even a chair I could break apart.

I crawled across the floor and got closer to the door, listening for John. I could hear him talking in muffled tones, unable to decipher exactly what it was he was saying. There was no other person talking, so I figured he was on the phone.

Crawling across the room, I tucked myself back into the corner and I curled my arms around my waist. Something hard pressed into my side and a ray of hope settled over me.

My phone.

John had not checked my pockets; he only took my purse. Reaching into my inside pocket I pulled out my iPhone and noticed a large crack across the screen. It must have happened in the scuffle with John. I thanked God I had remembered to put it on silent; with the amount of missed calls I had, John would have found it minutes after he took me.

I quickly typed out a text in a group message to Karen and Casey. I even added Dylan, hoping he was okay and my worst fears had not come true.

Me: John took me. We are in an old abandoned building outside of town. I’m not sure what direction but I can still see the water tower from our location.

I immediately silenced my phone completely and turned off all notifications. I couldn’t take the chance of it vibrating or making any sound. My phone might be the only thing that could save me.

***

It felt as if hours had passed when the door opened and John stood there holding a thick black belt in his hand. My eyes closed instantly; I knew what this meant. He used this method before when he found out I took money from his wallet. He beat me with the belt until I admitted I did it. Then he beat me continuously for taking the money in the first place. Had I not needed to pay for new gym shoes, I wouldn’t have resorted to stealing.

“Stand up, now!” I curled into a protective ball as he walked toward me and grabbed my hair, yanking me up. When he released my hair, I was relieved but only for a short moment. He grabbed me around the neck and forced me to look at him. Getting within inches of my face, he yelled, “Still don’t fucking know how to listen, I see. Looks like I’ll have to remind you I don’t take shit from you.”

I tried to hold back the fear I felt and the tears that wanted so desperately to fall. “I’m sorry,” I whispered back to him.

Seeing me so scared, he just grinned with pleasure. He knew I was terrified of what he would do, and he fed off my fear. “It’s too late for sorry.” He shoved me backward and I slammed against the wall, reaching out to brace myself.

Before I had time to prepare, he swung the belt. It connected with my hip and the sting brought tears to my eyes.

“You know, Payton, it’s amazing how much you look like her when she was your age.” He stepped in closer and brought his face so close to mine I could feel his breath on my cheek. I tried to turn away, only he gripped my chin tightly and held my head in place.

His nose trailed along my cheek up to my hairline as he breathed in. He had never acted like this; it was always just physical and mental abuse. My body began to tremble at the possibilities.

John pressed his lips to my cheek, just at the corner of my mouth and I cringed, trying once again to pull away. I felt his tongue trace the edge of my lip and I shivered. “You better help me find her or I may just have to pretend that you are her, instead.”

He pulled away just slightly and squeezed my throat so tight, I could barely breathe. “You know, I promised Allen he could have his way with you that night. I thought it would be good for you to see how weak you truly were. But you had to go and fuck things up, just like you always do, like Maggie always did.” Memories of the night the drunk man attacked me in my own room flashed in my mind.

“Where is she, Payton? Where is your fucking mother?” I couldn’t answer; he had such a tight grip on my throat I could barely breathe. I started clawing at his hands and he released my throat. I slouched against the wall and began coughing. Before I could regain any amount of strength, he gripped my arm and twisted it upward, urging me to respond.

“Where is she?”

I took a breath and tried my best to lie. “She left over a month ago and she never told me where she was going.”

He slung the belt back and then forward so quickly I had no time to prepare as it connected with my side. “You lying bitch.”

He took a step back and began hitting me over and over with the belt repeatedly. I turned and took the majority to my back, but it still didn’t completely shield the rest of my body. I felt like every inch of my skin was on fire; each hit only enhanced the burn.

When he finally stopped, he leaned over me and spit. “I’ll wear you down. You know I will.” I didn’t look up until I heard the click of the door.

Within seconds I heard loud banging outside the door as I crawled to the corner and curled up, fighting against the pain I felt with each movement. I hurt so badly everywhere the belt had connected.

My body began to shake, and I could feel the churning of my stomach. I made every attempt possible to hold back, but I couldn’t. Before I knew it, I began heaving and coughing as I threw up.

John must have heard me, because the door flew open and he rushed at me with the belt still in his hand. Rearing back, he swung, and the leather connected with my shoulder as I cried out in pain. Tears ran down my cheeks as I pressed my lips together tightly, holding back the best I could.

When he noticed my tears, he dropped the belt and began kicking me over and over, connecting with my face and stomach. “You have one hour to decide if you want to tell me where she is, or allow me to beat the hell out of you and enjoy every fucking minute of it. You decide.”

He picked up the belt and left once more, locking the door behind him. My head felt hazy, but I could hear a car start in the distance and the squeal of tires. Closing my eyes I listened for any sign he might still be here, but heard nothing.

I could taste blood, which made my stomach turn, causing me to throw up once again. With each heave of my body, another burst of pain shot through me.