THE TORTURED (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY - SIX

REMEMBER ME?

TWENTY - SIX.
“You son-of-a-bitch. I’m going to give you what you deserve. Don’t move,” a familiar female voice demanded.

Ryan slumped in the seat and stared straight ahead.

“You-son-of-a-bitch. You’ve ruined my life. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I can’t do anything. You and your God forsaken game. You sick bastard, you’ve ruined my life.”

Slowly, Ryan turned to face the voice.

Dana stood outside of his car, approximately six feet away, pointing a large revolver at his face. Her hands shook as she spoke.

“My cancer is malignant. I have three or four weeks to live. I have nothing to lose. The thought of leaving this earth and not taking you with me is something that I can’t imagine. The difference, asshole, is I am going to heaven and you are going to hell,” Dana’s voice became more elevated as she spoke.

“Dana, take it easy. We can…”

“Don’t you tell me how to take it,” she screamed.

Ryan considered what to say. As he sat in the car and watched the barrel of the pistol shake, he wondered what prevented Dana from shooting him already. Assuming she must have things she wanted to say prior to killing him, he decided to attempt to get her to talk.

“Dana, God isn’t going to support you on this. You…”

“Shut up. Just shut up. I hate you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Dana’s voice cracked and she began to cry as she spoke.

As she held the pistol in her right hand, she used her left hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. Ryan slowly placed his hands on the steering wheel in hope of Dana becoming more comfortable that he wasn’t a threat.

“Freeze. Drop the weapon, ma’am,” A male voice from behind the car demanded.

Ryan glanced into the rear view mirror. A police officer stood behind a patrol car, his arms outstretched over the hood, pointing his service weapon toward Dana. Ryan averted his gaze toward his open window.

“He. He’s a monster,” Dana began to speak.

“Ma’am, drop the weapon. There’ is nothing worth losing your life over,” the officer shouted.

“But he…” Dana pleaded as she continued to cry and wipe her face.

“Drop the weapon,” the officer demanded; his voice much louder each time he shouted the command.

Out of Ryan’s left eye, he saw Dana’s body rotate slightly. As soon as her body began to move, he heard the gunshots.

Pop!

Pop!

Dana’s body fell beside his car. Ryan turned his gaze to the rearview mirror.

“Sir, are you armed?” the officer screamed, his weapon still pointed at Dana’s body.

“Armed?” Ryan screamed out the window as he continued to look out the rearview mirror.

The sound of distant sirens increasingly got louder as the seconds passed.

“No. Sir, have you been
harmed
?” the officer screamed.

“Only my pride officer,” Ryan screamed out the window.

“Sir, stay in the vehicle,” the officer screamed.

“Oh my God Ryan, are you okay,” Ami screamed as she ran toward the police car.

“Ami, get back in the store,” the officer screamed.

“Is he okay?” Ami screamed.

“Yes, he’s fine,” the officer responded.

“Sir, stay in the vehicle,” the officer shouted again.

“Until you advise me otherwise,” Ryan responded out the window.

Ryan sat, relieved that the officer did not provide immediate medical attention to Dana as she lay on the parking lot bleeding. He hoped, more than anything, that she was dead, or at minimum, incapable of speaking. He watched out the rearview mirror as the officer spoke into the microphone of his radio.

As other officers pulled into the parking lot, they discussed Dana still having
control
of the weapon that was in her hand. Although Ryan could not see, apparently, she was still holding the weapon as she lay on the asphalt in a puddle of blood.

After a long discussion, one of the officers slowly approached as another followed, his weapon pointed at Dana’s body the entire time. As the officer got within foot’s reach, he kicked the weapon from her hand.

“Clear,” the officer screamed as he picked the weapon up from the ground.

Immediately, paramedics rushed to Dana’s body. Within seconds, it was apparent that Dana was, in fact, dead. Ryan waited as the paramedics loaded her onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Who he assumed was Ami’s brother approached the driver’s side of the car, and advised Ryan that he could exit the vehicle’s passenger side.

Ryan crawled across the seats of the car, and opened the passenger side door and stepped into the parking lot.

As soon as Ryan stepped from the car and stood, Ami rushed to him and embraced him in a hug.

“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt,” Ami sighed.

“So am I,” Ryan responded.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Ryan apologized as Ami released him from her arms.

“Oh. Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not. Blood and violence turn me on. Call me weird, but it does. Always has,” Ami shrugged, showing almost no expression.

“You don’t say?” Ryan said quietly, attempting to hide his excitement.

And his mouth began to form a smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY- SEVEN

NOT AGAIN.

TWENTY - SEVEN.
“I like your dress,” the cashier said cheerily.

“Thank you, it’s…well, I just got it,” Meghan smiled as she pressed her hands along the fabric that covered her upper thighs.

Meghan had purchased the dress earlier in the day at the mall, carefully picking out one that was as revealing as possible without appearing to be
slutty
. The young lady that helped her told her she looked
hot.
Meghan chuckled, knowing Ryan would certainly approve of
hot.

“That’ll be $37.11,” the cashier said as the last of the groceries slid past the scanner.

As the young man at the end of the check-out placed the items into plastic bags, Meghan dug through her wallet for exact change. She expected this evening to be another entertaining time with Ryan. They had made plans to spend the night together, and she intended on cooking him a memorable meal, having some wine, and hopefully another night of sex. She smiled as she handed the cashier the money for her groceries.

“Would you like help out?” the young man asked as he held the bags up from the counter.

“No, I can carry them, thank you,” Meghan responded, smiling

Ryan had stated his need to resolve some financial business and changed their plans for dinner to a much later time. Meghan preferred to eat earlier, but willingly agreed to accept the plans for a late meal. The opportunity to see Ryan excited her greatly. It had been two days since their first sexual encounter, and it was all Meghan could do to not spend every waking moment recalling each instant of their time together. As she walked to the car, Meghan wondered what Ryan may be planning. The not knowing caused her to smile as she made her way across the dark parking lot.

She pressed the button on her key fob, unlocking the vehicle. After she placed the groceries into the rear compartment of her SUV, she turned to close the door. As the door swung closed, she saw a bright flash of light, and felt a sharp pain in her armpit. When she awoke, her hands were bound, her feet were bound, and her mouth was gagged. Her head felt as if it was covered with some form of fabric, and her surrounding was completely dark.

As she blinked her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to see, she felt as if she was in a moving vehicle. She realized as she felt the vehicle begin to drive away that contrary to when Ryan captured her, she now felt no excitement or state of arousal regarding her abduction. As she sensed the vehicle turning a corner, she began to develop a deep fear. Fear of losing her daughter, of losing whatever she may have with Ryan, and fear of losing her life began to race through her mind.

She attempted to straighten her legs, and as she did, she felt a strain on her shoulders. As she tried again, she determined that her feet and her hands were bound together - her hands behind her back. Incapable of screaming, and her head covered in some form of fabric, she began to cry.

Consumed with her feeling of fear, and wondering why her conscious thoughts differed from when she was abducted by Ryan, Meghan attempted to force herself to desire what
was
happening to
be
happening. Try as she might, she continued to cry uncontrollably. Frantically, she kicked her legs, each time pulling a tremendous strain on her shoulders.

As she felt the car turn another corner, Meghan began to consider that her options regarding escape were very limited. Attempts to convince herself to comply with any and all wishes by her captor began to make her feel queasy. Thoughts of being raped, forced to perform sexual acts, or any other form of sexual contact began to make her stomach convulse.

Struggling with potential scenarios of what may happen if and when she was removed from her confinement of the vehicle, being compliant continued to enter her mind. Considering being as cooperative as possible became her only viable option, with an escape as soon as she was able. As she planned a way of attempting to overcome her captor, she felt the car come to a stop.

A car door opening and closing.

The trunk opening.

A sharp pain in her side.

Darkness.

When Meghan regained consciousness, she was lying on a cold concrete floor. Although her mouth was no longer gagged, she was still bound. As she heard footsteps across the floor in front of her, she pulled against the restraints that bound her hands. There was minimal slack in what was used to bind her, and her feeble attempts only provided strain on her shoulders as she attempted to pull upward with her hands.

“Please, I’ll do anything if you release me,” Meghan begged softly as she lay on the cold floor.

She heard her captor exhale, and felt a hand on her cheek. The fingers pressed against the skin of her face harshly and slipped by her lips. As they began to work their way into her mouth, she lightly attempted to close it. The fingers were immediately withdrawn.

Whack!

She felt a hand strike her face with tremendous force. Wanting to make this encounter as painless as possible, as the tears began to run from her eyes, she opened her mouth and rolled onto her back. As she lay on her back, she felt fingers in her hair and an immediate tremendous strain on the top of her scalp. She was being picked up by her hair.

“Oh my God. No, no,” she cried as she attempted to stand.

Her hands being bound to her legs didn’t allow her much free movement, making standing from her position on the floor almost impossible without assistance. She felt as if her hair was being pulled from her head. As she kicked her legs and attempted to stand, she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Now in a semi-crouched position on her knees, the tears streamed from her eyes and soaked her blindfold.

“Please, anything. I’ll do anything,” she sobbed.

Again, Meghan felt the hand against her face. She opened her mouth slowly. The fingers pushed past her lips, along her tongue, and deep into her throat. As her throat convulsed and she gagged, her eyes began to water even more. Rapidly, the fingers worked in and out of her mouth, causing her to gag repeatedly. As she fought to breathe, the fingers slid in and out of her mouth until she felt saliva dripping from her chin.

As the hand was removed from her mouth, she attempted to catch her breath, gasping to fill her lungs with air. A hand pressed against each cheek, holding her head stable. As she felt the two thumbs press hard against her chin, forcing her jaw to open wide, she feared what was next.

The hands released her face and pushed along her neck and into the top of her dress. As she felt them slide into her bra, she shuddered. Groping and squeezing her breasts, the fingers kneaded her flesh harshly. She felt her nipples being pinched hard, and bit her bottom lip to prevent from screaming.

The fingers pinched her nipples until she became numb to the pain. As she felt the hands slide from her bra, she sighed and released the pressure from her bottom lip. She heard a sharp
click
, felt pressure against her wrists, and then relief from being bound. A hand pressed between her calf muscles, and she felt pressure against the restraints on her ankles. Immediately, she felt relief from her leg bindings.

A hand slid under her armpit and assisted her in standing. Her knees burning from the concrete floor, she stood slowly. As she was being led across the floor, she walked hesitantly, fearing what she may encounter. Her captor’s hand pressed against her upper back, forcing her to bend over. As she bent at the waist, she held her hands in front of her to stabilize herself from falling. With her arms extended, she felt a cold flat surface, and pressed her hands against it.

She felt pressure against the back of her head, and the same sharp
click
she heard earlier. As the pressure against her eyes from the blindfold was relieved, she opened her eyes. The bright light was blinding at first, causing her to blink, allowing her eyes to adjust.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she focused what stood before her.

And she trembled.