I just wanted to close my eyes and let go, get respite from the pain.
The scent of cedar and a touch of tobacco caused me to slowly lift my heavy head. I struggled, understanding the urgency but not able to focus on anything. It was all a haze. But I knew he was there! I could sense him like I always could.
I have to find him.
I have to warn him.
He has to know what is going on before it’s too late.
I began to struggle against my bindings again, not nearly as forcefully as I had originally, but with everything I had left in me. I wanted to yell out, but my throat was too raw.
Suddenly, his beautiful face was right in front of me, his breath warm on my face.
“Shh, Jada. I’m here. It’s me, baby.”
I began to struggle harder, trying to tell him the things he needed to know.
Listen to me, dammit.
Tears felt like they were trying to pool in my eyes, but nothing was there. There was no room for even a tear beneath the swollen eyelids.
“Sit still. The police are coming, but he can’t know I’m here. Do you understand? Sit still, Jada.” Cane’s voice was nearly a whisper but stern.
My chest rose and fell quickly. I wanted to grab him, to hold him, to protect him from whatever evil plan the bastard in here had devised.
But I was bound, beaten, and unable to even cry out.
There was only pain. So much pain.
Cane kissed me quickly on the forehead before whispering one final time. “Be still.” Then he stepped out of my sight.
CANE
I stepped back toward my bookshelf and into the shadows. Shit was about to get fucking real, and I didn’t even have a weapon, but I’d use my fucking body as a shield to protect her if I had to.
No more pain would come to my girl as long as I was still breathing.
I heard heavy footsteps crossing the wood floors, making their way down the very same hall I had just come from. They grew louder with each step. I searched for a weapon, something to even out the playing field.
I tucked myself into the side of the bookcase. My eyes made out the shape of the antique sword my grandpa Ben had given me before he died. He had gotten it during a trip with my grandmother to Greece in the 1970s.
Let’s hope this motherfucker has one good battle left in it.
I gave a last look at Jada. Her head was slumped forward, her body only held up by her hands tied behind the back of the chair. I wasn’t sure she was even conscious.
My heart fell briefly before I found my focus.
I grabbed the golden sword, took a few steps to the side, and stood by the doorway, my back pressed hard against the wall, my heart pounding as the footsteps got closer.
Regardless of what happens to me, please let her be okay.
“Someone ordered pizza,” a man’s voice said right outside the door. “I would like to get it. You and I could have a bite to eat before we end our time together. Aye, if your boyfriend had been fucking home when he was supposed to have been, maybe we could have had dinner before I fuck you and kill you. Too bad.”
I clenched my jaw, gripping the sword with all of my strength, willing myself to shut the fuck up.
His black boots crossed the doorway before his body, head to toe in black. A glimmer from the streetlight hitting the metal of the gun at his side caught my attention.
At least I knew where it was.
