I make my way down to the basement and pull my key out to unlock the prisoner’s door. The sound of squeaking metal wakes him. The man sits up on the concrete floor and begins to crawl backward when I enter. He pushes his back into the far wall.
“Where is she?” I get to the point. I don’t have a single second to waste. I’ve seen what they did to her when they thought I was watching. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. The fucked-up part of me wishes they’d send me another video. Just so I can see that she’s alive. The what-ifs are the worst part. I need to know she’s breathing. That she’s not lying in a corner all alone, bleeding to death and praying that I make it in time.
The man chooses to ignore me and brings his knees to his chest to shield his naked body from me. “Bring her in,” I order.
Kashton and Sin enter the room and drop the woman’s body to the floor in the center. She’s on her stomach so I kick my boot out, pushing her onto her back so he can get a better view of the dead woman. Her body has started to harden. Rigor mortis is setting in. It usually can take up to six to eight hours to take over the entire body. But it seems to be happening faster.
“Whitney?” He gasps, getting to his hands and knees, he crawls over to her where she lies. “What the fuck did you do to her?” he demands.
“They killed her—”
“No.” He interrupts me as if that’s impossible.
“They broke her neck and buried her in the woods after they switched out Ashtyn’s body with hers.”
He shakes his head the best he can, still not believing me.
“Who the fuck did this?” I shout, losing my patience. I don’t have time for this. “Where is my wife?” I grip his hair as hard as I can, trying to rip his scalp clean off his head and rip him off her body.
He chooses to remain silent. I look at Kashton and nod my head. I see Ryat and Tyson approach the open door and enter the small cell.
Kashton pops the lid on what Ryat gives him and pours the contents all over Whitney’s naked body. Then Sin pulls a lighter out of his pocket and hands it to me. I strike it on my jeans and toss it onto Whitney, and she instantly goes up in flames. The fire heats up the small concrete room.
He screams out but once again pushes himself up against the wall. I go over, grip his hair once again, and drag him closer to her, pushing his face as close to the fire so he can feel the heat but not burn him alive. I need answers before I can kill the bastard.
“Where. Is. She?” I growl through gritted teeth.
“I…don’t…know…” he says between sobs, fighting my hand that keeps a grip on his hair.
I look at Kashton, and the look of annoyance he gives me tells me that he too thinks Luke is telling the truth. But if it’s not him, then who? Who the fuck has access to Carnage and the security system? Why kill Whitney? She’s the only connection to Luke.
Now a list of men who want to hurt me? That list is a mile long. They aren’t after Ashtyn. It’s me they want to hurt. And they know that the only fucking thing I care about in this world is her.
I turn my back and go to the door. Kashton, Tyson, Ryat, and Sin each walk out. I watch Luke stare at his wife’s burning body as I shut the metal door and lock it.
“WAIT!” He rushes to the door.
“Do you know how long it takes for a body to burn?” I ask him.
He shakes his head, crying while his bony fingers curl around the bars, trying to yank it open. The smell of burning flesh already fills the hallway outside of his cell.
I smile. “You’re about to find out.” Then we all walk away, leaving her in there with him, screaming for us to put her out. The heat alone will be excruciating. I’ll wait until tomorrow to give him his daily amount of water. Maybe he’ll have more to say then. Even once she stops burning, the smoke will linger, and the smell…it’ll be hell in there. Literally. I’d say it’d kill him, but he can get fresh air through the door. And if he dies, he dies.
We all enter our office, and I walk to my desk. I catch sight of the picture on my desk of the four of us from years ago. The one Elli had seen when she visited. It’s our senior year at Barrington. She’s got a smile on her face. The guys aren’t smiling, but you can see how protective they are of her. I knew that if anything ever happened to me, they would make sure she was taken care of. That’s all I ever wanted. To make sure that she got everything I ever wanted her to have—the world.
Now she’s gone. Naked, bleeding, and probably crying. She needs me, and I’m nowhere to be found. Maybe Haidyn was right…I should have never brought her back here. She deserves a life outside of here. Without me.
Grabbing my computer, I throw it across the room, and it shatters one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Saint.” Tyson places his hand on my shoulder, and I jump, spinning around to see them all just staring at me.
“What’s the word on Haidyn?” I ask.
“Devin still has him in surgery,” Kashton answers.
We saw the video with the guy holding a gun to Haidyn’s head while Devin gave him a shot of adrenaline. We watched him wake up and Devin dig the bullet out. Then the video ended. Once we arrived, everyone who was involved in both videos was gone.
“Maybe he can tell us something…”
“It could be days before he’s awake.” I interrupt Kashton. But a part of me knows that he might know something.
“What can we do?” Sin asks.
I run a tatted hand down my face. “We’re going to check every cell. Every person that is here at Carnage.”
“For what exactly?” Ryat is the one who asks this time.
“Anything. Ask them what they know. If you even think they’re lying, we take something from them.” This place isn’t called Carnage for nothing. I’ll collect heads and hang them on the fucking wall. Make my wife a bouquet with them for her return because I will bring her home. I’ve done it once; I’ll do it again. No matter what it costs me.
I kick both doors open to the house not caring about giving myself away. I know she’s here. Finn was able to track her down an hour ago. It took me that long to get here.
Two men sit on couches in the living room, and I’m able to put a bullet between each of their eyes before they’re able to get me.
Another one jumps out from a side door, and he gets a shot off before I put one in his knee. He drops to the floor, and I land another in his chest.
A guy rushes me from the hall, and I put two into him. A third goes into the back of his head as he falls to the floor, making sure he’s taken care of as well.
I head toward the hallway that he came from and come to a quick stop when I see her at the other end of the hall.
“Sa-int.” She speaks my name, but it sounds like the first word she’s said in days. Her wide eyes go to my left arm, and I look down at it to see blood drip from my fingertips. I’ve been shot, but I don’t feel it. Not yet. My adrenaline is too high. “You’re—” A man stands behind her and places a hand over her mouth. The fact that she doesn’t fight him tells me what I feared. She’s weak.
“I’m fine,” I assure her. She’s naked, dirty, and trembling.
The man behind her grabs a hold of her matted hair. I swallow when I see him lift a gun and press the barrel into her hollow cheek. She looks so skinny. It’s only been a day, but it looks like she’s been starved for weeks.
I drop my gun to my side. “Ashtyn.” I manage to say her name, but it’s soft as my eyes sweep over her naked body. She’s covered in bruises and cuts like she’s been beaten. My worst fear comes to life.
“Don’t take another step, or I’ll give her a new hole in her face for me to fuck,” the guy holding her orders.
My teeth grind, and I look over her again once more. She’s not shaking or the least bit scared. Is she drugged? Or did I take too long, and she’s come to terms and accepted a life of being raped and beaten? The thought makes me pissed at myself, and my heart breaks for her.
“Get on your knees,” he orders.
“I’m not—”
“Get on your fucking knees!” he shouts, pushing the barrel of the gun further into the side of her face, smashing her cheek.
“Okay. Okay,” I rush out, lowering myself to my knees, and I interlock my fingers behind my head as if I’m being arrested.
“Saint, don’t—”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he growls at her.
“No,” she shouts, and the guy behind her places his free hand over her mouth once more.
The next second, I feel a gun at the back of my head as a voice commands, “Hands behind your back.”
I do as I’m told, knowing I have to buy some time. The guys will be in here any second to save her. Kashton knows she is the main priority. A zip tie is pulled tightly around my wrists, locking them behind my back.
“That’s better,” the man holding her says cheerfully. “Now let’s get started.”
“Let her go,” I demand, and they both laugh. “I said let her go!” I scream, my voice echoing through the house. “You don’t want her. You want me. Here I am. Take me.”
“I have something better planned.” The man lowers his gun from her bloody face and grabs her right hand. He places the gun in it and wraps her fingers around the trigger.
“No. No. No,” she rushes out, and he laughs once again.
“Shoot him.”
“No. I won’t…”
“You’ve done it before. Come on, shoot him.”
“NO!”
“Ashtyn?” I bark, getting her watery eyes to focus on mine. “Do it.”
Her breath catches, and she shakes her head.
“Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and shoot me.”
Sobs wrack her naked body. I hear the cock of a gun and watch the man behind her point it at the back of her head. “Shoot him, or I shoot you.”
“Do it,” I growl, and she shakes her head. “Fucking shoot me, Ashtyn. Come on!” Come on, sweetheart. Do it for me.
She just stares at me, tears running down her bloody and swollen face. “I…can’t,” she says softly.
“Please,” I beg, my chest tightening. I walked into the house, ready to die to save her. “It’s okay.” I nod.
She licks her busted lips. “I love you.”
It’s the last thing she told me when she shot me at Carnage. I give her a soft smile, accepting my fate. “I love you too, sweetheart.” I take a deep breath, knowing it’ll be my last, but I watch her close her eyes and turn the gun on herself as she pulls the trigger.
The sound is deafening to my ears.
I’m shoved to the floor, and someone sits on top of me. My scream echoes through the hall. She falls to her knees, and the man behind her laughs. “Fuck. That was poetic. True love right there.” He kicks her back, and her body falls to the cold floor.
I’m screaming her name, hoping that she responds in some way, but she lies there unmoving. The man kicks the gun out of her hand and in our direction. “For a bitch, you’ve got some balls.” He fists her hair and leans down, gently kissing her tear-streaked cheek.
Her lifeless eyes are still open, and I pray she’s just in shock. That she didn’t kill herself for me. I was the one prepared to die. It’s always been me. Not her.
“It makes me horny.” He chuckles
I try to fight, but something is on my back, pinning me to the cold, hard floor. The gun is still held to the back of my head. “Watch your bitch get fucked like the whore she is.”
“Don’t fucking touch her!” I shout so loud my throat burns afterward.
The man in front of me laughs, undoing his jeans. He pulls his dick out and spreads her legs with his, pressing his gun to the side of her bloody face. “Tell him, Ash. Tell him I’ve been fucking you every day for a week now.”
A week? Has it really been that long? Did I really fail her that badly?
She says nothing, her eyes still straight ahead.
I try to get to her, but I can’t move. It’s like something is wrong with me. My body is unable to move. Maybe it’s from being shot. “ASHTYN!” I shout, needing her to snap out of it. Fight. Do something. Show me that she’s alive.
But my chest squeezes as I watch blood all of a sudden puddle underneath her body. It drips from her nose and her lips. The side of her face smears it as he positions his dick between her spread legs, and he pushes into her with a grunt. “She’s still warm, Saint,” he adds, gripping her hair. He yanks her head up so her lifeless eyes meet mine.
I’m screaming, my body fighting the man on top of me, and I watch her body rock back and forth on the cold and hard hallway floor, unable to help her. Unable to save her. I’m a poor excuse for a man. Fucking pathetic.
“Saint?” I hear her voice, but her lips don’t move. “Saint?” More blood covers the floor. So much so that it’s almost reached me where I lie face down. “Saint?”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I say, my throat closing up on the lie. Nothing about this is okay. “I love you, Ashtyn,” I say it more for myself than her. Fuck, she has to know that, right? She’s always been it for me. Even after she shot me. Nothing she could do to me would stop me from loving her. “I love—”
I blink, catching something out of the corner of my eye, and I look over to see Kashton standing at my desk. His eyes go to the wall that I was staring at. It was like watching a horror movie play out in front of me.
“What?” My eyes bounce around the room to see that I’m still in our office at Carnage. My hand goes to my left arm, and I run it up and down to see that I’m not covered in blood and no bullet wound of any kind. “Ashtyn?” My eyes meet him.
He lowers his eyes and shakes his head. “The guys haven’t found anything yet.”
It felt so fucking real. Watching her lie there dead while a man raped her. That feeling of helplessness was crippling.
His eyes narrow on mine. “It’s been three days, Saint.” He softens his voice. “You need some sleep before you drive yourself crazy.”
I hate to be reminded that I’ve failed her. Three days since I was sent a video of her being tortured. Three days since I thought I found her dead in the woods. Three days without my wife, and it feels like a lifetime. But he’s right. I have to take better care of myself if I’m going to be who she needs. I have to be prepared for everything and think smarter. That thought proved that she’ll need me once I find her, and I can’t be half myself. That won’t be enough.
“Haidyn?” I ask.
“He hasn’t woken up,” he answers, clearing his throat.
ASHTYN
The only sign that I still have arms is that I can look up and see my tied hands above my head. Otherwise, my arms and hands are numb. My right shoulder screams, and my legs have cramped up. I can barely breathe most of the time. I’ve cried so much that my eyes constantly burn.
For four days, the masked man has come out and raped me. Every time has been the same…removes the gag, whips me with his belt, and rapes me. Then places the gag back in and the hood back over my head. Even during the day. My skin is on fire from my sunburn. There’s a few hours during the day when the trees don’t provide shade, and the sun hits my bruised and cut skin.
I’m in so much pain that I don’t even know when the last time I was able to sleep was. I’m just in total darkness most of the time with the damn hood. Even when it’s on during the day, it gives me zero light. All I have are my thoughts, and they’re driving me mad.
Right now, I hang from the pipe between the two trees, and water drips off my shaking body. He hosed me down, saying I was a disgusting whore who needed to be cleaned. A part of me wishes he would have left the hood on and let me drown.
Voices hit my sensitive ears, and I don’t even care to look up and see who is coming. It won’t matter. There’s no stopping them.
My wet hair hangs around my face, and drool drips from my cracked lips as I look down at the ground. A set of black boots comes to a stop in my line of sight, and I flinch as he bends down and unties each ankle. Standing, he kicks the cinder blocks out of the way, and I hang from my tied hands.
A groan escapes my open mouth at the new position. The rope that ties my wrists to the pipe is cut, and I drop to the ground with a gagged cry. Pain explodes throughout my body, and I lie face down, unable to move. I don’t have control over my limbs.
The gag is removed, and something new is replaced over my head and fastened around my neck. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play.”
Laughter fills the woods and I’m grabbed and rolled onto my back. I look up to see the masked men standing over me. One drops to his knees above my head and pins my still tied arms down to the uneven ground. The second one straddles my legs.
“We’re going to give you a little something. Make this a little more fun for you.” He pulls a syringe out of his pocket and removes the cap with his teeth.
I close my eyes. I’m too tired to fight or even speak.
“It’s only going to hurt for a second,” he says before a burning pain shoots through my body.
My cracked lips open and a scream escapes my mouth as I arch my back. The sound of birds flying from the nearby trees follows.
“That’s it.” The one lets go of my arms and then cuts through the rope, freeing them.
The other stands up off me, and I roll onto my side, holding my chest as I feel like my heart may explode. “If you last twenty minutes, I’ll be surprised.” He chuckles. “We’ll give you a three-minute head start. Don’t want to end the game too soon.”
I pry my swollen eyes open and look around aimlessly. I feel drunk, like the world is tilted on its side, but I realize I’m still lying on the ground.
Using my left hand, I push myself up to a sitting position as my back screams in protest. I can’t feel my right hand at all. My feet tingle, and my stomach rumbles. I’m so hungry.
Something around my neck gets my attention, and I reach up to feel a collar. My trembling fingers move to the back, and there’s a lock on it. Pulling on it, I hear a bell of some sort. It’s me. They’ve given me a cat collar like Saint had. But the leather is thicker and heavier.
“You’re wasting your time,” someone says, and then a boot is shoved into my back, pushing me forward.
I get to my feet and fall. My legs are so weak they tremble.
“Why isn’t it working?” the other asks, and I have no clue what he’s referring to.
“Maybe she needs more. I didn’t want to overdo it,” the first one says.
“Run, bitch!” one orders.
Getting to my hands and knees, I begin to crawl away from them. The stupid bell rings as my body moves mechanically. I fall on my face, and they laugh.
“We’ll give you ten minutes,” one states. “It’ll be better if you actually have the strength to fight us.” The door shuts, letting me know they returned to the house.
I lie on my stomach, my head to the side, staring at a squirrel not far from me as my heavy breathing moves the leaves that cover the ground. Taking everything I have, I get back to my hands and knees and crawl as far as I can as fast as I can.
I’m a fucking turtle. Tears sting my swollen eyes, and I hate myself for crying. I’ve done it so much in the past few days.
The door opens once more. “I think you’re ready,” one says.
And I dig my hand into the ground, feeling the dirt under my nails.
“It’s okay, Ashtyn. We’re going to play with you first,” one taunts.
I scramble to get behind a large tree and press my back into it as they laugh. Looking down, I see a small puddle of water. It’s from the guy hosing me down this morning after he whipped me. I push my hand into it, digging my fingers into the mud and grabbing a handful. Bringing it up, I cover the bell connected to my collar. Squeezing my hand around it, I try to fill the small holes with mud. If I can pack it full of it, you won’t hear the bell when I run.
It doesn’t work like I want it to. So I lie down, getting my face and neck as close as I can to the puddle and grab another fistful. I do it a few more times until there’s not much left, and I shake the collar. Tears of relief fall from my eyes when there’s no ringing.
Getting to my shaky legs, I press my back into the rough tree and take a deep breath. It’s now or never. They gave me the opportunity I’ve been needing. No one will ever find me out here. Wherever the fuck here is. I have to do this on my own. Save myself.
I push off the tree and run as fast as I can in the opposite direction of the house and farther into the woods.
Have you ever had those dreams when you’re running for your life, and one of your legs doesn’t work? You drag it behind you? That’s what I feel like right now. I have no shoes, no clothes, and no fucking clue where I am, but I’m running for my life. I can feel my pulse racing and blood rushing in my ears.
I refuse to look back. It’ll just slow me down. I’m sucking in breath; my side aches, and I can’t hold back the sobs of relief at how close I am to freedom. I try to be quiet, but it takes everything I have to stay on my feet. They hurt so bad as I step on sharp objects and twigs. I trip over a log covered in leaves and land on something sharp that takes my breath away.
Rolling onto my back, I blink looking up into the night, seeing all the stars twinkle as my shaky hand comes to my side. I whimper when I feel something sharp sticking into me. It’s glass.
Looking to the right, I see the reflection of brown glass. It looks like part of a broken beer bottle, and if I had to guess, I’d say it’s part of what’s embedded into me.
“Ashtyn? Here, kitty kitty.” I hear the altered voice. “Come on, sweetheart, be a good pussy, and let me catch you.”
“Dude, that’s so fucking stupid.” The other laughs.
They don’t sound really close, but the fact I can hear anything tells me that I’m too close. Slowly, I get to my feet and keep going in the direction I was headed.
I’m exhausted. All I want to do is sleep, but if I stop, I’m dead. I hobble my way through the trees, dragging my right leg and holding my bleeding side. I’m having problems breathing, and my throat is closing up on me.
I can’t die here, not like this. Making it to a clearing, I sob harder when I step onto the blacktop. It’s a road. Two lanes and curvy. I start to walk down it, looking over my shoulder to make sure they’re not on my ass. Lights come around the corner, and I stand in the center of the two lanes, prepared to die if they don’t stop in time. It’s the only chance I have at this point.
I hold my heavy arms up and wave them the best I can when it comes to an abrupt stop, almost hitting me. I fall to my knees, my head hanging, when I hear car doors open and close.
“Jesus Christ,” a man hisses.
I lift my head, but I can’t see anything since the headlights are even with my already blurry eyes.
“Where the fuck did she come from?” another one demands.
“Pl-ease?” I manage to get out. “They’re…coming.” Who knows how far out they are.
“Get her in the car.” Hands grab at me and yank me to my feet.
I whimper as I’m picked up and cradled to a hard chest. Car doors open and close as I’m placed inside.
“Phone,” I manage to say through cracked lips. “I need—”
“A hospital.” One interrupts me.
“No.” I start to fight, and he lets go of me.
I fall to the floor and push my back up against the back-seat door on the driver’s side, pulling my knees to my chest to cover my naked body. I could have just traded one nightmare for another. “I need a phone.” I manage to say.
My hand is grabbed, and a phone is placed in it. Just like in the woods, my fingers won’t work on the phone. It’s as if my mind has no idea how to process a phone call. And a thought hits me: I don’t know Saint’s number by heart. I could call my cell number that Kashton gave me, but it’s probably dead by now.
I can only think of one number at the moment. I ramble it off three times before I hear a phone ringing on the end of the line. It was placed on speakerphone, and it’s held in front of my bloody face.
“Hello?” the voice asks.
I don’t know any of the Spade brothers’ numbers by heart, but I know hers. “Jas-mine.” My voice cracks.
“Yeah. Who is this?” she asks, sounding worried. “Are you okay?”
“Ashtyn.” I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. “I need you to call Kashton.”
She sighs. “Ashtyn, I told you he doesn’t matter…”
“Please?” I interrupt her, feeling my eyes grow heavy. “I’m lost…I’m about to pass out. I need…I need Saint…”
“Oh my God, Ashtyn. Where the fuck are you?”
“Call Kashton.” I don’t have the time or energy to go through everything. “Give him this number. Tell him to have Saint call…” If he can get these guys to take me to Carnage, then maybe I’ll have a chance.
“Hold on. I’ll add him to the call,” she rushes out.
I close my eyes and let the drool run out of the corner of my mouth, too tired to swallow it. A second later, I hear ringing.
“Jasmine—”
“I have Ashtyn on the line. She needs Saint.” Jasmine doesn’t let Kash finish.
“Ashtyn?” Kashton barks out. “What do you mean…?”
“Kash,” I say roughly. “I need…”
“SAINT!” I hear him scream, making me flinch. “It’s Ashtyn.”
I blink my heavy eyes. “Directions,” I whisper. “Give them directions.”
“Ash? Sweetheart? Where are you? Are you okay?” Saint’s voice rattles off questions.
I try to talk, but my heavy tongue won’t move.
“What the fuck, Jasmine?” Kashton barks. “Where is she?”
“She was here,” she snaps. “She called me from this number.”
“Whose number?” Saint demands.
“We found her,” one of the guys in the car finally speaks. “She’s in the car…”
“Where the fuck are you?” Saint barks out.
My heavy eyes fall closed, and this time, I can’t open them back up. I can hear Saint’s voice in the distance, but I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. For all I know, I’m hallucinating and still tied up in the middle of the woods.
