43. Felicity
felicity
“Oh God, Didi! Are you okay?” I strain against my ropes. The circulation cuts off, but I don’t care. The woman who raised the man I love is sprawled on the floor, her cheek starting to bruise.
“Now,” Keith says from the doorway, smirking at the woman who gave me the man I love and gave the man standing before us more than he ever deserved. “Are you going to behave, or do I need to tie you both up?”
“Didi,” I call, my voice cracking as she doesn’t move, her eyes barely fluttering.
“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” he says and turns, slamming the door behind him and leaving us be.
“Didi,” I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks. “Come on.”
For long moments, there’s nothing but the sight of her chest moving up and down, and I frantically search for something to cut me loose. I have to get out of this fucking house.
I search the bed, finding its metal frame is put together with screws, and I inch closer, hoping that I can reach and twist one free. I lean against the chair, losing hope as my arm gets pulled taught.
Then, one of the chair legs wobbles, and I stop, trying not to fall. But my hope reignites as I wiggle again, thinking that if I can break my chair, then I will have more leverage to get the screw.
The trick is not to make too much noise, thus drawing the attention of the men in the other room. I wait, knowing there will be a burst of laughter any second, and when it happens, I push my body in the direction I want to go, feeling myself nearly fall as one of the legs gives out underneath me.
“Ow,” I say, feeling my hands pulled even tighter. My legs are still tied to the legs of the chair, but my feet are at least on the ground, and I’m able to use their leverage to bend my body until I’m facing away from the screw, my hands twisting in their ropes to try to reach it.
“Shit,” I whisper, realizing that I can’t reach anything. I twist my hands, sweat beading at my temples and my heart hammering in my chest.
A slight moan has me turning my head, and I breathe a gasp of relief when I see Didi move for the first time.
“Didi?” I can hear the stress in my voice, and twist my hands harder, my body held at an awkward angle.
“I’m fine, honey,” Didi says to me, making tears of relief fall down my cheeks. I was terrified that she wasn’t going to wake up, and the thought of that happening, after everything we’d all been through, was too much.
She starts getting to her feet. Her eyes blink, and she looks over at me, her eyes bright and clear, and I realize she really isn’t hurt, aside from the red cheek.
“You’re fine?” I ask, looking her over. She comes to me, hands on my cheeks and looking for signs of damage.
Despite the rough way I got here, they haven’t touched me at all, and the relief on her face tells me that whatever thoughts were running rampant through her mind are finally at ease. At least somewhat.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She looks me in the eyes then. “And so is Law. He’s safe with Thea and Bonnie.”
I sag in relief. Thinking about my little boy has tears streaming down my face harder. “Where’s Jax?”
She shakes her head, looking me over before working on the ropes tying my hands together.
Her nails scratch against my skin, but the relief at her being here, at having someone here to help, makes it easy to push aside whatever pain it will take to get out of here.
“If I know him, he’s probably out there watching this house somewhere. ”
“What are we going to do?” I ask her, feeling defeated. “They’ve leaked it to the press, but I have no idea if they’re negotiating anything.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” she says, getting my hands free and helping me awkwardly from the chair, then realizing my legs are tied too before going to work on one while I untie the other. “All I know is waiting around for negotiating doesn’t suit me. We need to get out of here.”
“Keith is a monster, Didi,” I say, just needing to say the words out loud. I’m sure I’m not saying anything she doesn’t already know.
“He sure is, and I’m mad as hell that Jax never told me what was happening.” She shakes her head before looking back at me. “But there’s nothing I can do about that now. I can just be grateful everyone is alive and well when we all get home.”
“He’ll just keep coming,” I say, not sure I’m arguing with her because I’m more than ready to get out of this hellhole. But I don’t want the threat of him hanging over us forever.
“Once you tell your people he is the one who kidnapped you, there will be nowhere he can hide.”
She isn’t wrong, but I’m not sure it is going to be that easy, either.
Once I’m finally untied, we move toward the one window in the room. The moon was going to bed, leaving room for the sun to start to rise, but it was early dawn, with a blue hue covering the area around us. Enough dark to escape in, but not too dark so we couldn’t see.
The window squeaks loudly as we open it, making us move faster, finally wrenching it all the way open, and Didi practically shoves me out of the window. I fall out, thankful it’s not a far drop, and Didi falls out behind me, landing on top of me.
Then, just when I think we might be making a clean escape, the earth beneath us shakes and loud explosions erupt around us.
We help each other up, the adrenaline racing through my veins as we start to run, hunched low. There’s smoke filling the air around us, turning the misty morning into what looks like a war zone, and the men in the house start shouting, hindering our escape.
We find a wide tree, looking back to the house and the explosion sites. I don’t see anyone near it, but any second, I know those men will see we are gone.
“What do we do?” I ask Didi, relying on her for just about everything, including my emotional state.
“I think we should run.” She looks down the long driveway. There are some trees, but not enough to hide our escape. “That house in the distance, there.” She points to another log cabin-looking home. From here it looks tiny, and I eye it dubiously. “It’s our only chance, Felicity.”
I nod, knowing she is right, but wishing she wasn’t.
“Okay, on the count of three.”
On three, we take off. Our feet crunch over dead branches and dried leaves as we race out from behind the tree. The home we are running to is far enough away that they wouldn’t have heard me scream even if I had tried.
I shudder at the thought of it coming to that. What if it had? What if Didi never showed?
Just ahead, maybe four hundred feet, I see a truck I recognize, its wheels spinning as it barrels down the long driveway.
Jax.
I see him in the passenger seat, or the outline of him, and he jumps out, running toward us. A hoard of motorcycles files in behind Jax’s truck on the road coming around the truck as the Cash brothers jump out, running for me and their mother.
I hear someone shout from behind us and the cabin door slamming open. I turn to see Didi about ten feet behind me, running as fast as she can.
Keith runs at us, raising a gun in his hand, and panic makes me act.
I turn back, rushing to Didi and pushing her to run faster, and as I turn to run behind her, a gun sounds off.
I see Jax scream, his face red as he runs toward me, and then I feel something hot and sharp hit my shoulder with unimaginable pain.
The force throws me to the ground, and I lay there frozen in shock, hearing more and more gunshots ring out around me. Tears pool in my eyes before falling. The pain and shock of the bullet freezes my body, and I’m unable to move at all.
“Felicity!” I hear Jax’s agonizing voice break on my name, and I try to move, try to lift my head to tell him I’m okay.
Hurt. But okay.
Gravel moves around my head, and Jax comes to a stop beside me. Sliding onto the ground, he flips me over, shielding my body with his own. I want to tell him to get off, to keep himself safe, but the only word that slips out of my mouth is the quietest sound of his name. “Jax.”
Somehow, he hears me, and lays his head beside mine, his lips brushing against my cheeks. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, City Girl.”
“I’m okay.” My voice comes out hoarse. The chaos around us continues to erupt as people shout and more guns are being fired.
Then I hear a siren, and I think Ezra’s voice, as Jax slowly flips me over. The pain in my shoulder and back makes me hiss out a breath. Slowly, the gunshots cease one by one until I hear shouting coming from every direction.
Jax is yanked roughly off my body, and I reach for him in slow motion, unable to get ahold of him when the pain from my shoulder hits me again. “Jax!”
“I’m not the bad guy here,” he states calmly. He’s talking to the officer, but his eyes are on mine, and there’s something there, something that tells me he’s trying to say that to me, to tell me he’s not the bad guy.
“No, you’re not,” I say, then clear my voice, speaking to the officer. “He’s the one who rescued me. He’s not who you need.”
The officer hesitates for a moment, then slowly releases Jax. He comes right back down to me, holding his arms around me and helping me stand.
I glance around frantically, lightheaded but worried for Didi. “Your mom?”
“She’s okay. Logan has her.” I finally spot the tall cowboy and see him holding his shaking mother to him, his face full of anguish, and I wish I could take this away from this family. Not one of them deserves the man they were given as a husband and father.
I glance back, seeing police take Keith and his men down. Even the nice guy is on the ground, though he is the only one not fighting it or cursing out the officers.
Mistakes are some of the hardest lessons we learn.
“Felicity!” I turn my head, my body being lifted from the ground as Jax carries me. I would argue if the energy wasn’t escaping me.
Ezra busts through the chaos, and an ambulance pulls in just then.
“Holy shit.” Ezra drags a hand through his hair, staring at where I’m bleeding. “You’re shot.”
I feel myself grow faint and nod slightly, unable to comprehend the manic way he says it. “Okay.”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Jax says, and I feel him pick up speed, his feet carrying him faster than he should be able to while holding me.
“We got her,” I hear someone say, my eyes closing on their own accord, and I feel myself being lifted and then laid on a somewhat hard surface. My eyes blink for a moment, trying to see where I am, and I recognize the inside of an ambulance.
Jax yells something, and then he’s there, sitting beside me, his hand wrapped firmly around my own.
Something presses into my shoulder, and I hiss. “Ow.”
“Yup, that bullet is still in there,” someone says, and I try to look at Jax again.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I recognize his voice, can hear the pain in it, can hear how much this is hurting him, and I want to take it all away.
But before I can say a word, I float into sleep.