Tex’s Angel (Savage Legion MC #11)

Chapter 24

Clara

I n a lot of ways, coming back to work has been a blessing. My first day back at school has flown by because the kids are rowdy, and tempers are flaring because everyone is so eager for Thanksgiving break, which is right around the corner. I broke up three fights and caught two bullies hard at work earning their suspensions. But I got my lesson plans taught for the day, so I can’t really complain.

I spent my lunch hour and planning period grading papers, so I didn’t have to take them home. By the end of the day, I’ve only got a few left so I sit at my desk and finish them off. This means once I’m done, the evening is my own. I don’t realize how late it’s gotten until I pack up and realize I’m the last teacher left in the building. I shout goodbye to the janitor, and he locks up after me.

Anxiety and fear spike in my gut when I walk up to my car and see that someone has slashed every tire. I warily glance around trying to see if I can see anyone around that might be responsible for doing something so reprehensible. I don’t see a living soul. In fact, the entire parking lot is dead silent. I look into my windows to make sure no one is inside waiting for me and then get inside and lock all the doors.

I get onto my cell phone and call Tex, and he picks up immediately.

“Hello, sugar. Y’all coming home anytime soon? I’m at your place but I should be done painting in half an hour.”

“Um, I hate to tell you this, but someone slashed all my tires.”

His voice turns serious in a heartbeat. “Y’all still at school or out in the community?”

“I was the last one to leave except the janitor and he locked the door behind me when I left. I figured that I might be safer, locked inside my vehicle than roaming around trying to get back into the school.”

“Y’all made a good choice, sugar. Stay in the car and don’t unlock those doors for anybody but me. Got it?”

“Yeah, I understand completely. The thing is, I’m really scared.”

“Aw shit, honey, just sit tight. I’ll be there in under ten minutes.”

“Can you stay on the phone with me? Please,” I beg.

“I wish I could, but I took my bike to your place to paint over the shit that asshole scrawled on your walls. I don’t have my hands free headset. I’m heading to my bike now, hold tight, I’ll be there before y’all know it. Why don’t y’all call your friend and see if she wants a chat?”

“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to act like a whiny baby. You just get here, and I’ll keep an eye out for anything that looks out of place.”

“Don’t move. I’ll be with y’all in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

The moment the phone goes silent, something smashes into my passenger window, sending glass flying through the interior of my car. I cover my head with my arms and listen to the sound of a woman screaming. It’s like one big, long scream and I realize it’s coming from me. The next thing I know a huge, rough looking man pops the lock on my door and is dragging me away. I kick and scream, trying to wrench myself free of his grasp. Nothing works and when I get to be too much trouble, he backhands me across the face so hard my ears ring and my head hurts.

He keeps dragging me all the way to the far side of the building where he has a white panel van. A little voice in the back of my head is screaming that if I get into that van, I’m not coming back out alive. This is exactly the kind of van that serial killers use. No matter that, I can’t let him put me inside. I try to start bargaining with him. “Whoever paid you to kidnap me, I’ll pay you more if you just let me go.”

“Schoolteachers don’t make a lot of money,” he responds in a gravelly voice.

“I know, but my parents are wealthy. They’d pay a lot of money to get me back.” Although I’m panicking on the inside, I try to force my voice to sound reasonable.

Unfortunately, talking about my parents triggers him. He throws me up against van and pulls the door open. “You think you can take someone’s family and use yours to get you out of trouble. I don’t fucking think that’s very fair, do you?”

“Wait. What? I don’t even know you.” I try and get a look at his face, is this man Anabel’s father?

Shoving me into the van, he climbs in behind me and zip ties my hands together. When he’s finished, he stands over me looking down with an expression of pure disgust on his face. “You don’t even fucking remember me, do you? You don’t get to wreck my life and then forget me. By the time I’m finished with you, I’ll be the only image you can recall.”

“Wait. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this.”

He grabs a big roll of duct tape, and I shake my head back and forth, trying to keep him from putting it over my mouth. Nothing I do stops him because I’m all tied up and at his mercy. He puts a piece right over my mouth and makes sure it’s tightly sealed. At first, I honestly think I’m going to suffocate. But when he slams the door shut and gets into the driver’s seat, I realize that I am still breathing awkwardly through my nose. Fear swirls in my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my thinking because my mind is all over the place thinking about things that are far less important than escaping this monster. He’s already started the motor and is racing away from the school.

The only thing my still-racing mind can think of to try get away is to twist my wrists until the zip ties snap. For some reason I remember watching a true crime show that mentioned how you can get out of zip ties with a shoelace, that’s all well and good, but today I’m wearing heels not sneakers, and even if I was, my wrists are fucking tied together. The first time I try rubbing my wrists together to see if I can get loose, the heavy duty zip ties he used cut into my skin and not only is it incredibly painful, I start to bleed. I immediately stop because as much as I want to get away, it’s clear this is not the way.

Instead, I maneuver myself until I’m on my knees, hoping that once he stops, I can get into a crouch so that when he cuts the zip ties, I can make a mad dash for the van door. Either that or bring my arms up and hit him across the head. I have to admit to myself that escaping this big angry man is a longshot, whoever he is, it looks like he had this planned out well. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to get out of this alive. My cellphone is still in my car, so there’s no way that Tex will find me.

The one and only thing in my favor is that I’m smart. If I can keep my wits about me, maybe I can figure a way out of this situation before this man does me irreparable harm or outright kills me. The more I think about it, the more I realize something. This man has spent weeks messing with me, trying to terrorize me. Whatever he has planned for me isn’t going to be quick and painless.

The anxiety churning in my gut slows and then kicks up a notch because almost exactly after realizing I’m probably not going to be killed right away, all the images of how he could torture me spring into my mind. I don’t know how much of that kind of abuse I can take. I surely wasn’t built to withstand physical pain.

I look out of the front windshield, I need to memorize where he’s taking me, in case I get the chance to escape or to call for help. It’s no good if I somehow get access to a phone and can’t tell anyone where I am.

We’ve not been driving long when I see the sign saying we’re leaving Las Salinas, and within moments we pull onto the interstate going northbound. We’re on route five going up the West Coast. I squint my eyes and as minutes continue to tick on, we pass signs for Del Mar, Solana Beach, and appear to be heading towards Carlsbad.

When he turns off on a dirt road and late afternoon turns into evening, I start to feel alone and vulnerable.

I start to worry that I’ll never see Tex, my best friend, and even my smugly indifferent parents or my selfish sister. Then I start to worry about Tex endlessly tormenting himself with guilt about not being able to save me, and that really tears at my heart. He’s just the kind of man to do that to himself. He told me that he feels guilty about not getting his wife treatment until it was too late, despite the fact that she had no symptoms, and no one could have known she was sick. I don’t think I was in Levi’s life long enough to him to really miss me and that turns out to be a strange kind of blessing in and of itself.

I don’t know why I’ve already kind of given up of making it out of here alive. Maybe it’s some kind of mind trick, where if I accept the possibility of the worst happening, anything short of that will be a pleasant surprise. On a long enough timeline there could be a chance to escape. I just need to keep than firmly in mind, so I’ll recognize an opportunity when it presents itself.

It’s fully night when the van finally stops at a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere, I’m mentally prepared for whatever happens. When the door of the van slides open, he says, “Don’t bother screaming because I don’t give a fuck and there isn’t a living soul for miles in any direction. Also, don’t fight me because I’m in no mood. You understand?”

“I understand. I won’t give you any trouble because I’m more interested in talking this out.”

“Fuck talking, it’s you talking that caused all my problems.”

He pulls out a knife and cuts the zip ties. Instead of closing up the knife and putting it away, he shoves me against the back of the van and puts the edge of the blade against my neck.

I genuinely begin to panic, thinking I had it all wrong and he’s decided on a whim to kill me without even telling me why he’s angry with me. Instead, he lowers his voice and tells me menacingly, “I’ve had this fantasy about bringing you out here and letting you run, so I could hunt you down and kill you.”

Running the knife gently over my skin, his whole demeanor has drifted into an almost trance-like state as he watches the blade slide against my skin. He adds, “Maybe I’d use a rifle. Or my bow. Or maybe I’d hunt you down on foot and use this very knife to slit your throat.”

“I don’t understand why you hate me so much,” I gasp.

My words snap him out of his trance and his eyes flash with pure rage. “If you knew how much it infuriates me that you don’t remember me, how much it makes me want to hurt you, you’d never say those words to me again.”

And just like that, he pulls the knife away and snaps it shut. Before I can get my head around what just happened, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and jerks me forward. I stumble out of the van one step ahead of him, but his hand never leaves the back of my neck. In fact it gets tighter until I begin to get lightheaded and worry that he’s cutting off the flow of oxygen to my brain.

He perp walks me up the front steps of the house, unlocks the door with his free hand and shoves me inside. The minute my eyes adjust to the lights he just flipped on, I realize exactly who this man is. His face is in the multitude of pictures decorating the walls of the small living room, staring out from every frame alongside a dead-eyed woman I once knew. It’s the moment I know all the way down to my bones that I’m not making it out of here alive.