Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 (18 page)

He sat beside me and lovingly stroked the
mark he’d left on my face. His touch brought sharp spikes of pain
to my injured cheek. Raising his hand to his lips, he licked my
blood from his fingertips.

Sick. He’s really
sick.
Oh. God. Please help me.

“
Hush. I won’t let anyone hurt you.
There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He tenderly brushed the hair away
from my face.

I wanted to scream, but somehow retained the
mental capacity to understand that it would be a very bad idea to
evoke his anger again.

“
Look at what he’s turned me into.”
Mark whispered. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed my
hair.

I didn’t want to argue, but I had a pretty
strong suspicion Mark had always been a power-hungry, sex-fiend.
But, with the blood he’d drawn running down my face, I tried to
look as sympathetic and comforting as possible.

“
It’s never too late for you to prove
everyone wrong. You don’t have to be like this. You can be … a good
guy.” I’d meant the words to be encouraging, but his expression
immediately shifted from friendly to furious. Mark went nuclear,
and I was at ground zero.

“
What are they saying about me?” he
shouted. “Have you spoken to my parents?”

I shook my head, “No, Mark. I’ve never met
your parents. I …”

Another hard slap stung my face, and this
time I saw stars.

“
Stop lying to me!”

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks with the
realization that I was going to die at the hands of this
monster.

Suddenly his face was an inch from mine.
“How is Dunstan related to the girl?” he asked.

“
I don’t know. I just met up with
them.”

Before I had even finished speaking, Mark
reached up my dress with his right hand and dug his thumb into my
upper-inner thigh. The pain was excruciating as he pressed harder
and harder, grinding back and forth between muscle, bone, and
tendon. My bonds pulled tight with my effort to escape the
torment.

“
Please stop,” I cried. “Stop! It
hurts.”

He moved his hand to my brachial pressure
point and repeated the action. But this time the torture was
accompanied by a demanding, vengeful kiss.

I closed my eyes and tried to escape the
agony. Temporary reprieve came when Mark released me and dug into
his pocket. His hand emerged and the faint glow of metal shone from
the item he clutched. He pushed a button, and the blade flicked
open.

“
Please don’t hurt me,” I begged. “You
promised you would take care of me!” I could feel the acceleration
of my heart as adrenaline filled my veins.

When you can’t fight and you can’t fly, what
good is adrenaline? What can you do?

“
Oh, honey.” Mark’s voice was
strangely sympathetic. “You lied. You must be punished.” His lips
brushed my trembling forehead. He held the blade to my left cheek
bone and slowly drew the knife toward my chin. I screamed as it bit
into my flesh.

He paused, pulled his knife out and looked
thoughtfully at the small wound. “No. He should be here to see
this. He needs to witness the pain he’s causing.”

My voice turned hysterical as I thought of
Ashley in Mark’s hands. “No! Please! Don’t leave me. Stay with me.
You promised! You said you’d take care of me!” Dying here was bad
enough, but the thought being mutilated in front of Connor and
Ashley was more than I could bear.

He kissed my still protesting lips. “Hush.
I’ll be back soon, honey.”

And then he was gone.

I gasped for air, shaking violently.
Deep down I knew I was selfish and welcomed the respite, even
though it did not bode well for my companions. I had pleaded for
him to stay, but in the end, I could not deny the relief that I
felt when he left.
I am a horrible
person.

Wanting to be better, I glanced around the
room. There had to be some way to free myself and help Connor and
Ashley—something I could do—a way to build a bomb from bubblegum.
But I couldn’t find anything. Frustrated, I growled, “Freaking
MacGyver!”

Thunder boomed in the distance and lightning
lit up the sky once more.

“
This is not me. I am not the helpless
idiot that ends up strapped to a bed.”

A shot was fired outside.

The sound was more than I could handle. I
screamed out my frustration, my fear, my self-loathing, and my
helplessness. I wailed until my throat was sore.

When I regained control of my emotions,
clarity filtered through my mind.

When you can’t fight or
fly, there’s only one thing you
can
do.

I prayed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PLEASE GOD, DON’T let them
be dead.
My eyes were squeezed shut while my lips
muttered prayers. My right arm suddenly went slack. I opened my
eyes and found Connor staring back at me. His expression went from
concerned to furious when his glance lingered on my dress; pushed
up around my hips. He quickly pulled it back down.

He thinks …

“
No, Con—” I shook my head.

He grabbed a towel off the dresser and
carefully wiped the blood from my face. Then he walked to the door
and called out, “Ash, she’s in here.” He moved to my right foot and
cut the binding.

Morning was nearing. The room had lightened
enough for me to make out the worry on Ashley’s face when she
rushed through the doorway. “Is she okay?” She looked up at Connor
for a response.

“
Me? Ash, I’m right here. You can talk
to me.”

Her eyes grew round when they found my face.
“Sorry, I just … sorry. Are you okay?”

My hands and feet had lost circulation, and
as Connor cut the sheets, blood flowed to the numb appendages like
thousands of needles stabbing into my flesh. Connor moved back down
to the foot of the bed and rubbed my bare feet.

I winced, and tried not to grit my teeth.
“I’m okay. What about you two? I heard a gunshot.”

“
Uncle Connor shot him.” Ashley’s
voice was somber, with a touch of something I couldn’t place;
almost like admiration.

I squirmed my feet away from Connor’s grasp,
scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. I was upright for maybe a
whole second before I collapsed back onto the bed.

Connor kneeled down and kneaded my feet
again.

“
I can do that.” I tried to kick out
of his grasp, but he ignored me, and held my legs still with little
effort. His hands were warm and soothing as they massaged away the
pain.

He helped me down the stairs. The first
couple of steps were agonizing, but the man’s magical hands had
done wonders. We found my shoes and our stolen food bag, and headed
toward the house we’d been staying in.

My fists were still cut up from my
previous bout with the mirror. The right side of my face was
swollen from Mark’s heavy backhand. The cut on my left check stung,
and leaked blood when I moved my jaw. My inner left thigh and bicep
throbbed and would no doubt bare huge, purple bruises. The
countless bite marks stung, my head pounded, and my whole body
ached from being laid out like I was on the rack. I felt like an
extra on the “
Night of the Living
Dead
” movie set.

Everything is fine. It could have been a lot
worse. Nothing happened.

Desperate to escape the concerned glances of
Ashley and Connor, I fled into the bathroom and shut the door
behind me. The first thing I grabbed was a toothbrush. I covered
the bristles in toothpaste and vigorously scrubbed the entire
inside of my mouth. Then I repeated the action three more times. My
gums were bleeding by the time I was finished, but the taste of
Mark lingered. I searched for mouthwash.

My face was a swollen, bleeding mess. I wet
the corner of a wash cloth and started scrubbing away blood. There
was peroxide in the cabinet, so I cleaned up my ear and the cut on
my cheek. Had the bottle been larger, I would have stood in the tub
and poured it over me.

Pulling up the hem of my dress, I examined
my inner thigh. The bruise was the size of a tennis ball, and
rapidly purpling.

“
I hate him.” The words just tumbled
out of my mouth before I could stop them with my hand.
No. I can’t hate him. He’s dead.
My
eyes watered with sorrow, guilt, anger, fear, frustration,
helplessness; emotional overload was an understatement.

A quiet knock sounded on the door.
Ashley walked in and interrupted my futile thoughts, as I hastily
lowered my dress.
Her eyes locked on mine, drifted
downward, and then quickly went back to my eyes. We stared at each
other as she opened and closed her mouth a few times.

Then I realized how this all must look, and
what she must be thinking. “He didn’t. I mean there was no ...” I
had no idea how much to reveal about an almost-rape to a twelve
year old. “Look, he just gave me a really bad bruise … with his
thumb.” I pulled up my dress and showed her my inner thigh.

She came closer to examine my leg.
“Ouch.”

“
Nothing but bruises and cuts
happened.”

She blew out a breath. “I didn’t really
think—”

“
Yes, you did. I was tied up.
I
was scared it was going to
happen.”

“
But you said you’d—”

“
Put my knee through his genitals?” I
winced, remembering the cockiness of my previous words. “He had my
legs tied down. There was no way my knees were going to be of any
help. I was wrong. I thought I was so strong, and I’m not. If you
guys hadn’t come for me, I’d … I don’t know.”

Her face dropped. I had the sneaking
suspicion she was disappointed to find out I couldn’t walk on
water.

“
And hey, check out this one.” I
pushed up my sleeve to reveal my arm to her.

“
Wow, colorful,” she said
admiringly.

“
Yeah, they could have been a lot
worse.” I draped my arm over her shoulders. “Thanks for coming for
me.”

“
Uncle Connor was really worried about
you. He tried to go after you without me. I had to beg him to bring
me along.”

“
Oh.” I chewed on my lip for a minute.
“I figured you’d have to drag him behind you to save me again.
Didn’t I make him regret it enough the first time?”

Ashley giggled. “No, he was pretty
upset.”

“
Funny,” I said. “I never expected
Connor Dunstan to be the hero-type, but that’s twice now he’s saved
my life.”

“
Three times, actually.” She held up
three small fingers.

“
Hey, I had that guy with the frying
pan,” I insisted. “But I guess we can give Connor points for
effort.”

“
Yeah.” She squeezed my hand. “Maybe
he’s not
all
bad.”

Talking to Ashley helped greatly, but my
hands were still shaking. I grabbed the brush off the counter and
led the girl from the bathroom. We sat on the bed and I let down
her hair, brushed out the tangles, and re-braided it. The
comforting simplicity of fixing her hair did wonders to calm my
nerves. By the time I finished, my breathing had steadied and my
hands had almost entirely stopped trembling.

The affect on Ashley was even better. She
was leaning against my leg and half asleep by the time I pulled her
braid through a rubber band. She rested against me and passed out.
I gently moved and lowered her to the bed.

“
Pleasant dreams,” I said and kissed
her forehead.

Connor entered the room. He stepped over to
the bed, picked up Ashley, and moved her to the pillow, pulling the
covers up over her. After briefly marveling at what a softy he was
becoming, I stood and headed toward the dresser. Connor grabbed my
arm and spun me around to face him. His trembling arms wrapped me
in an embrace that was both intrusive and comforting.

“
I’m so sorry.” He whispered into my
hair.

“
No need. Not your fault.” Every inch
of my body tingled in response to his proximity.

“
Yes, it was. He was after me. It
wasn’t your battle.”

I gave in and nestled my head against
his chest, wrapping my arms around him. I could hear his heartbeat,
and feel his incredible warmth.
Part of me
wanted to let my hands roam and explore the muscles under his
shirt
, but my sensible side screamed for me to be
across the room from him.

Sensibility is so
overrated.
Fe
eling calm, relaxed, and
safe in his arms I closed my eyes. Mark’s face greeted me behind my
eyelids. Desperate to get away from the memory I pushed Connor away
and took a step back.

Frustration distorted Connors features for
just an instant before he mastered his emotions and his guarded,
attorney guise resurfaced.

“
I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t want to
hurt him, I just couldn’t be near any guy right then.

“
It’s okay, I get it,” he
replied.

No you don’t.
“I … It isn’t you.”

“
Do you want to talk about it?” he
asked.

“
I don’t … he didn’t … I mean … there
was no sex.” My shoulders tensed. I resented the necessity of the
words, but they had to be said.

Connor visibly relaxed his shoulders. He
grabbed my hand and led me to the bed where he sat with his back
against the wall and gestured for me to join him. My expression was
dubious as I considered his request. Connor rolled his eyes at my
obvious hesitancy and said, “All I want to do is talk.”