Moth to a Flame

29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Regan

The man in the park isn’t as huge as he normally is in my dreams. He’s big, nonetheless. Still wields a knife and has a baton shoved into a holster.

“You’re mine.” Same line as always. He edges closer. More rotten apples. More terror seeping into my veins. “Not just for tonight. Forever. I’ll make sure you’ll never forget about me.”

He hasn’t laid a finger on me yet. Hasn’t cut me or dragged me forcefully behind the bushes.

The pain, however, is already there. Dull and coming from my index finger.

Strange.

Despite the threat up ahead, I shift my attention downward, to my hand.

No nail. I have no nail on my index finger and blood trickles down to the first knuckle.

What has he done to me? And when?

Where is Landon?

“You’re older.” That’s a new line. I snap my head up to him as he sneers. Steps toward me. “Doesn’t mean you’re getting off the hook. You’ve earned your punishment. You’ll suffer like none of my girls ever have suffered before. The cops might shoot me for this. Don’t care. You’ll suffer worse. ’Cause I’ll live inside your head until the day you die.”

“No.” My fisted hands are already up in the air. I ignore the pain in my index finger. “Stay away from me.”

“I’ve stayed away long enough.” His mocking voice turns my blood to ice. “Have had years to think about how I’m going to destroy you. This is happening.”

“Help!” I scream. My feet don’t work, and that’s okay. Landon is here, somewhere. He’s here and he’ll hear me. “Help! I’m over here! Help!”

I’m not getting attacked by him again. I won’t allow it. Landon won’t allow it.

I’ll be fine. Any minute now, I’ll be okay.

A hand cracks on my cheek, slapping me out of my nightmare.

Fear clutches at my lungs when I remember where I am. I’m not home. This isn’t Landon. He would never slap me. Never wake me up this violently from one of my nightmares.

I blink my eyes open, clearing my vision.

“Stop.” Crack and, fuck, it stings. He hit me in the same place. “Making.” Each word is a crack on my sore cheek. “So. Much. Noise.”

My clothes are soaked with sweat. My heart is racing. I have no doubt that Lester isn’t lying. I must’ve screamed my head off.

That’s what you get for kidnapping the woman you traumatized.

“Bitch.” Crack.

Crying is useless. It won’t tell me where we are. How long I’ve been out.

The pain in my finger and the rising fear of never being found were too much, and I blacked out earlier. I’m awake now.

And he’s here. Straddling me. Thankfully, fully clothed. I’m fully clothed.

“You made me pull over, you dumb bitch.” His morning breath sickens me. It’s worse than the rotten apples scent that seems to cling to his skin.

Wait. Morning breath?

Morning.

I steal a glance at the open back doors of the van. There’s light outside, natural light. We’re on the side of the road. Up ahead, there are houses scattered in a neighborhood I don’t recognize.

Too far. They won’t hear me if I scream.

No one’s here to help me. I’ll have to save myself, and for that, I’ll have to play it smart. But it’s hard to think and plot when I’m running out of energy, fast.

As far as I know, this is the first time he’s stopped the van since he pulled out my fingernail. Except we’re not here to buy food or water or go on a bathroom break.

He’s planning to starve me. He’ll deny me water. I’m sure he will.

All part of his sick, twisted revenge on me.

“You’re paying for this.” The plier is in his grip.

My instincts jump into action, ignoring the pressure in my bladder. Pain. I can’t take any more of it.

Wait. I can. I will.

I need him to do this.

A breadcrumb.

What I can’t do is just let him . Offering him my hands will raise his suspicions. Getting him to think I’m afraid and absolutely don’t want this is my best course of action.

Shoving my hands between my ass and the floor, I bare my teeth at Lester.

“I’m not paying for shit.” As an emphasis, and since he deserves it, I spit on his face.

“Bitch,” he roars at me, swiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

The monster leans in. I know what happens next. I can’t fathom what happens next.

“No!” This scream is real. I’m strong and determined, but his lips are on me and…“Don’t you dare. No, don’t!”

Begging doesn’t help. It fails me the same as it did ten years ago.

His teeth clamp on my bottom lip, and he tugs while his vile tongue darts out. Any more of this and he’ll get turned on. Even if he doesn’t have a working penis.

The pain— my pain. That’s what he’s after. That’s why he bites so hard that I taste blood on my tongue.

I finally wake up, slapping and punching him, keeping him the hell away from me.

“You stupid, ugly, dickless freak,” I scream. He has to see I’m not afraid. That he doesn’t scare me. “Useless asshole.”

He lets go of my bruised lip, venom bleeding from his brown eyes.

“Get the fuck off me.” I flinch when he strikes me on the other cheek, recover and slap him some more. “Go away.”

“You’re pissing me off. Stalling like that.” I’m being flipped on my stomach, crying out in pain. Real pain as my cheek connects to the floor. “Big mistake, little girl. I haven’t had anything to eat in hours. Haven’t had my coffee yet. And this is the moment you choose to test me.”

Power and adrenaline inject themselves into my veins. He’s about to do exactly what I’ve been meaning for him to do. It’s so easy that I almost laugh at him.

He keeps my leggings on. Goes for my wrist.

I force myself to yell when he twists it. I’m cursing him, calling him every name in the book. Everything I can to show him how angry I am. How much I don’t want this.

Tears well in my eyes, and I blink, setting them free.

“Stop, motherfucker.” Go on, bastard. Tell Landon exactly where I am. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking do it. Don’t.”

I scream the loudest when he wrenches my middle finger’s nail out.

This isn’t a pained cry. It’s victory that bursts out of my throat. The pain is inconsequential. The bleeding means nothing to me.

I’m on a mission.

In the park, Lester was in a rush. I didn’t have a second to think, to understand what the hell was happening to me and how to get away.

The hours alone in the back of the van offered me precious minutes and hours to plot against him.

A plan I’m executing as we speak.

Another nail is another step closer to Landon. The love of my life. My dark knight.

One second is all I give myself to think of his handsome face. The sharp angles of his jaw. The intense look in his eyes.

I love you, Regan.

“You had it fucking coming.” From the corner of my eye, I see Lester rising to his feet, and no . No.

This isn’t right, how he’s loosening his grip on my nail. He won’t throw my breadcrumb inside the van. He won’t.

“Don’t leave me here, you idiot,” I blurt out. “I have to pee.”

Rage takes over his face. “Hold it in, you big, ugly baby. Until we’re far away from New York.” A pause. He snarls at me. “I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“Can’t. Hold. It.” That’s not completely a lie. I really do have to go.

I also have to get him riled up, so he’ll do something that angry people do, like hurl my nail out instead of dropping it here.

“I’ll pee my pants.”

A sick, satisfied smirk stretches his lips. Humiliating me does that to him. That satisfaction is going to be short-lived.

“Okay, dickless. You’re asking for the van to reek of pee all the way to fuck knows where.”

Red-faced and scowling, he slams a hand on the van. “Alaska! Alaska, you dumb bitch! Can’t you tell we’re headed west?”

Got you, asshole.

A surge of adrenaline shoots through me. “First, no, I couldn’t, since I’ve been tied up while you were driving and sleeping and whatever.”

I don’t even notice the pain in my fingers or my need to pee. That’s how committed I am to figure out where we’re going.

“Second—”

“I napped for an hour.” The vein in his neck is about to pop.

Sadly, it stays intact.

What happens instead fills my heart with such intense relief that I bite my lip from screaming with joy.

In a feat of rage, he launches my fingernail out of the car and onto the road.

“You stupid, whiny bitch.” Spittle hits my face as he bends to haul me out of the van.

It disgusts me to my very core, having my stomach pressed to his shoulder. My nose to his back. His arm is looped on the backs of my thighs, and it makes my skin crawl.

But being out here, stalling, means Landon will have a better chance of finding me.

Plus, I really, really have to pee.

Lester has left the car running. The radio is on, and as we’re rounding the van to the side of the road, I hear the low murmurs over the radio.

They’re talking about me.

“…famous horror author, Cooper Everglow’s daughter, Regan Everglow, was kidnapped from her home last night.”

Last night. And Lester has slept one hour, maybe even two. He could be lying. It could’ve been more.

As repulsed and scared as I am by his touch, I’m extremely relieved. We couldn’t have gotten very far. Right?

“…the search for her has been extended outside the state of New York. No statement has been made by her father yet, as he and his family are a part of the search party. Many other volunteers are out there looking for her…”

Dad…

I choke back a sob.

Lester grumbles, setting me down. “Go.”

Nothing in his eyes indicates that he’s heard anything the broadcaster said over the radio. Maybe his hearing has been impaired in prison. Someone who hates child molesters could’ve punched his ear or messed with it.

One can only hope.

“Go,” he hisses again, his filthy fingers clutching my chin. “I would’ve come up with creative ways to force the pee out of you intrusive ways. Except you’ve grown to be such a fucking psycho. When we get to Alaska, though…I have plenty of zip ties there. Then I’ll turn your holes into mush. I’ll destroy your insides. You can bet your ass I will.”

I believe him, biting my lip as hard as I can. I won’t let him see the fear on my face.

“Bitch.” He releases me, and I stumble to the ground. My cheek lands on gravel and sand, and I bite down a gasp. Heat spreads on the wounded area. I’m not bleeding, but I am hurt.

I hope…

I do more than hope. I pray.

God, if you’re out there, please, let Landon find my nails. Let him find me . For the time being, I’m safe. Once we get to his safe house, throwing me on the floor would be the child’s play compared to what this monster can and will do to me. Let Landon find me first. Please.

That’ll have to do.

His arms are crossed over his chest. “Go, bitch. Pee or it’s back to the van.”

The thought of him looking at my naked body has my stomach roiling. “Turn around.”

“Pee.” He’s on me in a second. His hand wraps around my throat and he yanks me up until I’m standing on shaky legs. My back is slammed into the truck, and his ugly, raging face is in mine. “Pee.” Another slam into the car. “Fucking.” Slam . “Pee.”

I’m getting dizzy with each blow.

“Fine. Fine.” Fainting isn’t a luxury I can’t afford. Reluctantly, I agree to do as he says. “Move over so I can do it.”

The only way to pee with my ankles tied is to lean my back up against the van.

It’s painful to wriggle my bare feet on the gravel so I can crouch.

It’s humiliating to expose myself to him like that.

It’s the absolute worst to have him leering at me as I go. I’m about to break down and cry with how small and inconsequential I feel under his scrutiny. How it hurts to have him revel in my pain.

You’re strong. You fought me. You survived. You’re okay. You’re here.

“Burn in hell,” I spit at him while I fix my clothes back in place.

“Not anytime soon. I plan on sticking around for a long time.” He grabs me by the throat, dragging me back to the car. “You and me, we’ve only just begun.”