Chapter 43 Hawk #2
My head aches as I try to open my eyes. Whatever I’m on rattles below me and is moving. The road noise next to my ear is constant. When the vehicle goes over a bump, I bounce slightly. I groan as my head hits the solid surface again.
“You awake, pretty girl?”
Jackson. Ice flows through my veins and fear holds my breath. Fuck. I’m disoriented and can’t seem to make myself think straight.
“Just a second.”
As he brakes, I slide on what must be the floor of a vehicle, but it’s not cushioned and it’s flat. I clutch at my head, trying to keep the throbbing down. My hand gets wet and sticky. Blood. Fuck.
The engine idles still, but the road noise stops. The door locks engage loudly as he moves around inside the vehicle. I still can’t open my eyes, but I know I should. I should fight. Kick his ass and get the fuck out. Run.
“You hit your head on a wooden stool. I didn’t think you’d fall, but I needed to make sure that asshole knew not to touch what’s mine.”
Ice runs through my veins. Gentle hands touch my head, and he even hisses when he feels the lump. I want to flinch away, but I can’t. It hurts too much.
“I had to get you away before I could help you.” He lifts me to sitting, and my head spins like he tipped me upside down. “You might have a concussion.”
I focus on feeling my left hand, scraping my thumbnail against my ring finger.
My ring is still in place. I doubt he would have kept my phone, but maybe it’s still in the van somewhere.
Turning it off would cut the signal, so there’s a chance he brought it, and I can get it back.
If not, I could take his phone and use it.
I open my eyes a crack, and the pain is harsh, but doable. Worried, dark brown eyes meet mine. I want to scream and pull away, but I can barely focus.
“Just a little bit farther, and I’ll get some ice for your head.” He reaches into a bag and pulls out a white t-shirt. He holds it against my head, practically wincing from the pain that he’s causing.
I barely knew Jackson in elementary school. I barely knew him when I was sixteen. This year, the times I was with him were brief. We tried to know him without knowing him to figure him out.
Now, I have no choice. I need to know him. I have to understand everything about his character. What drives him? What makes him angry? What makes him calm? What is it he wants from me that he can’t get from anyone else?
He’s jealous of Damon. Did he hook up with Mia or was that a lie? It hurts to think, so I take the shirt and hold it to my head.
“Only a little longer, and we’ll be there. I promise I have some ice, and you can lie down where it’s comfortable.” He moves away, and I watch him through narrowed slits.
I’m in a minivan without seats in the back. Even the carpet has been torn up, leaving the floor bare metal. He climbs into the driver’s seat and puts it in drive. There’s a green light on the dash.
I’m not bound to anything. My hands and feet are free. I could move if I wanted to. If I could move without my head feeling like it’s going to explode. Then reality sets in quickly. I wouldn’t get two feet before he recaptured me and decided to make escape impossible.
The van goes down roads in bad repair. My head throbs, and the bumpy road shakes my poor, rattled skull until I want to scream. But I remain quiet, trying to think while also not trying to think.
I cradle my head, praying for the road to smooth out. Praying for the guys to find me. Praying for a flat tire to slow him down. Anything. To give me an edge, because my greatest asset is my brain, and right now, it hurts too much to think.
I must pass out because when I’m conscious again the movement is different.
More like rocking, like carrying. I’m being carried.
There’s fresh air on my face. Maybe one of the guys found me.
I sigh, but as I breathe in sharp cologne, my situation reasserts itself.
My head hurts, but I remember waking up in the car. The bumps that wouldn’t quit.
I keep my eyes shut and try to even out my breathing so he thinks I’m asleep. Fuck, I should look around while it feels and smells like we’re outside. My hands and feet are still free. But when I try to open my eyes, all I see is darkness.
It was cloudy earlier, so even the moon doesn’t peek through. Forcing myself, I open my eyes wider to let them adjust to the dark.
“I would have parked closer, but it’s better if I abandon the car as far away as possible.” Jackson talks like we’re having a conversation. Like I asked. Is he delusional? Can I play into his delusion long enough to gain his trust?
The rocking makes my stomach churn. Wait, no, my stomach really is churning. When I push away from him and vomit onto the ground, he shakes his head.
“Concussion. You shouldn’t have jerked away in the theater.” As if it’s my fault, he grabbed me. “Ice pack and rest should help.”
I drag my sleeve across my mouth and tuck my hands into the hoodie’s sleeves. The ring isn’t obviously a tracker, but if he thinks it’s from Damon, he’ll want to get rid of it. And that’s my only link to the Devil’s trio right now.
I need to keep it on my person as long as possible. If I say it’s from my dad, would he be more or less likely to let me keep it?
He keeps walking for what feels like forever. Finally he shifts me against him and says, “Here we are.”
I can see the shadow of a farmhouse with an old wooden porch. There are a few open fields around it and trees closer to the house. It doesn’t look like any place I’ve ever been. My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. I swallow down my fear.
This isn’t some place I can run from. There’s nowhere to hide.
The fields have all been harvested, leaving open stretches as far as I can see.
I’d have to outrun him. And right now, my head hurts so much I’m not even sure I can stand.
The cleared fields also means no one can sneak up on the house unless the occupants are distracted.
My mouth is dry and tastes like sick. If I try to get away now, I won’t get very far.
And the attempt will cost me the freedom he’s giving me.
But it’s possible that as soon as I’m inside the house, the limited freedom I have could be taken from me.
I need him to think I can’t move at all, or that it’s too painful to move.
Unfortunately, that’s a little too close to the truth. I need to keep him focused on me so that if help comes, they have a chance of getting here without him hurting them.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage to get out of this. All I can do is hope the ring keeps me connected to the guys so they can find me.