Going Home (The Green Bayou Novels Book 1) Page 18

  The second I turn to bolt, Kent launches off of the porch and is right on my heels. I turn to see how close he is, but I’m too late. He tackles me from behind, and the air in my chest rapidly escapes my lungs. I gasp when he flips me around to pin me against the ground. The rain pours down on us, and I struggle to break free, praying the slipperiness of the mud and rain will force Kent to lose his grip on me. He uses his body weight to keep me under his control.

  I know he’s angry about my escape attempt, and I brace myself for a punch when his hand rises in the air. The hit never comes. Instead, he uses his fingers to move some of the stringy, wet clumps of my hair from my face. He smiles down at me.

  “Where did you think you were gonna go?” he asks. His amusement over the situation is evident in his tone.

  “I don’t know,” I concede. The shivering caused by the cold rain and the fear make it hard to talk.

  “I guess you figured out the hard way why I picked this location. Did you find anything while you were out exploring?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Oh, Emily. You underestimate me. No way will I make it easy for you to get away. I’ve waited a long time for you, and I’m not about to let you go. You have no idea how much thought and preparation went into this,” he says, stroking my cheek.

  I turn my head to the side, wishing he’d release my wrists so I can wipe the mixture of rain, mud, and tears from my eyes. As if he’s reading my thoughts, he does just that. After I rub my face, he helps me to my feet. When I wince, he looks at the assortment of mud and blood caked on my feet and slowly shakes his head. Slinging me over his shoulder, he carries me back to the camp.

  Kent opens the door to the cabin, and it shocks me when he hands me a towel and a change of clothes. I wish it were something other than one of his oversized T-shirts, but I’m so desperate to get clean and dry that I refuse to give it much more thought.

  He walks outside, and I hear the rumble of a generator starting up. The light bulbs in the small house glow with life, and my first thought is to get to Jacob, who lies quietly in the corner in the same position I’d left him. Before I can get to him, Kent is back inside, digging in a large duffel bag. He pulls out a bottle of body wash.

  “Here. Take it. A hot shower will warm you up. Your lips are blue.” I continue to stand there wet and shivering.

  “Don’t worry. I’m still out of commission, so I won’t be joining you.” Relieved, I walk into the bathroom and reach out to close the door.

  “Uhn-uhn. Can’t risk you trying something silly again. The door stays open,” he orders.

  Not in much of a position to argue, I climb into the shower while Kent changes into dry clothes. I pull the semi-clear curtain shut behind me, glad I can keep an eye on Kent, but then again, he can keep his eyes on me.

  I start the water, and once it gets to an acceptable temperature, I try to get as much mud off as possible. I try my best to ignore Kent, but even with my clothes on, I still feel him lewdly eyeing me. I use the body wash on every inch of my body, hair included, and find a few new gouges in my legs from the glass that is in my pocket. Maybe I can distract him with my body when I take my clothes off, fish out the glass shards from my pants, and… It’s too spur of the moment, and the timing seems wrong. Now isn’t the time to pounce.

  The water circling the drain is no longer a dingy, pinkish-gray color, but sudsy and clear as it’s supposed to be. I strip as quickly as I can, wash down the last of the grime, and shut off the faucet to wrap up in the towel. Once I’m mostly dry, I slide on the t-shirt right over the towel. The walk from the bathroom to the bed is torturous, and I can’t help but wince with each step.

  “Come here,” Kent says, patting the cushion next to him.

  “Do I have to?” I ask. Kent laughs.

  “If you want those cuts to get better, you do. I promised I wasn’t gonna hurt you, and I’m not. See? I just want to make you feel better.” He points to a first aid kit on the floor. “I want to take care of you, Emily.”

  Reluctantly, I take a seat next to him. He reaches for my legs and pulls them into his lap. I really want to appear unafraid, but my body betrays me and begins trembling. I nearly jump out of my skin when he bends down to grab the box of medical supplies. Kent sighs and wraps a blanket around my shoulders.

  “I’m sorry that I hurt you before. I don’t like that you’re so uncomfortable around me. I love you, Emily. You mean the world to me. I’ll heal, you’ll heal, and then we can finally be together. I’m gonna make you so happy. Just you wait and see,” he says, brushing his hand against my swollen, bruised cheek.

  I try my best to not flinch, and even manage to offer him a slight smile to keep him appeased. It works because he begins picking splinters out of my feet with a pair of tweezers.

  Once he’s finished, he coats them with antibiotic ointment, and when he notices the gouges in my leg, I freeze. Will he figure out they came from something in my pockets? He pulls out a square of gauze and tapes it over the holes.

  “Aww, you must’ve landed on some twigs or something. Do you see why it’s not a good idea for you to go running around out there?”

  Utterly relieved, I nod slightly and steal glances at Jacob while Kent is preoccupied with my wounds. I see his chest rising and falling, and a small wave of relief washes over me. Finally, Kent takes a roll of gauze and slowly bandages each of my feet, and then carries me to the old, creaky bed.

  Kent silently walks out the door and returns with a few more grocery bags. I pray he won’t be putting anything into the refrigerator because he’ll surely notice the missing beers, and all hell will break loose.

  Kent obviously finds what he’s rummaging for in the bag because he pulls out a stack of disposable bowls and a can of soup. I think about how great warm soup would be for Jacob and hope there’s more in the bags. Kent opens the pop-top on the can and dumps it into one of the bowls.

  After he microwaves it for a few minutes, he carries it over to me and watches me eat a few spoonsful before reclaiming his seat on the couch. He waits until I eat most of the bowl before he begins to speak.

  “Emily, I want to say again how I’m sorry for the other day. I shouldn’t have hit you, but you left me no choice. I know that deep down inside, you want to be with me. You feel obligated to Pete because he was your high school sweetheart. I know that you two go way back, but Emily, once he’s moved on, you’ll see that you and I are meant to be together. I did all of this for us. If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you. Please don’t put me in the position where I have to hurt you again.”

  I like the soft, mushy version of Kent far better than the vile and sadistic version. I simply nod my head in agreement, but all the while my thoughts are of Pete. Where is he? Kent sits next to me on the bed and brushes the tears from my cheeks.

  “I know you’re happy. I’m happy, too” He’s misinterpreted my tears. Oh well, I let him run with it.

  “Thank you, Kent. I appreciate the food and the medical care. You’re right. I shouldn’t have run off. It’s made me so exhausted. I’d like nothing more than to get some sleep.” I make sure to put some extra bat into my lashes when I blink. He totally falls for it, and agrees to let me nap.

  “Okay, sweetheart. You get your rest. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow. It’ll be a new day for us as a couple. Aren’t you happy?”

  “Very.” I’m not lying to him because excitement starts to build when I realize I’m not restrained! Kent kisses me on the forehead and walks out of the door.

  The excitement quickly fades when I hear the sound of clanking chains. Kent cuffs together a few pairs of leg shackles to make one long chain. He attaches one end to the U on the floor, and the other to one of my bandaged ankles. Once he’s finished, he looks up at me.

  “I could’ve gotten very upset about you trying to run away. I could demand you tell me how you did it, but I’m not. You’re not going anywhere now. You told me yourself, so it’s pointless to harp on it. I cou
ldn’t care less about your friend. He ain’t gonna to be running anywhere,” Kent says, finally acknowledging the shape curled in the corner for the first time.

  He turns on his heel and is gone. He shuts off the generator, and the bayou is once again silent. I listen as the faint hum of the boat motor disappears, and once I’m sure he’s gone, I jump out of bed and rush to Jacob.

  Even though the shackles are more uncomfortable than before, they give me extra walking distance. I easily reach Jacob’s corner and kneel next to his unmoving body.

  “Jacob.” I rub his sternum, and he slowly opens his eyes.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he says, weakly. I smile down at him.

  “Hi. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I’m going to get you some soup. Do you think you can drink the broth?”

  “Soup? Where’d you get soup?” Jacob asks, confused.

  “Kent was here.” He scowls, and then grimaces as he tries to sit up.

  “No, don’t. He’s gone, and I’m fine. I was terrified because he caught me outside, but he ended up laughing about it. He let me shower, gave me some food, and even dressed my wounds. He says he’s in love with me and will never hurt me.”

  “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

  “No, I must’ve gotten him pretty good. He said he’s still out of commission, but he did say he’ll be back tomorrow. Remember how I just said he loves me? Well, you should probably know he kinda thinks I’m okay with all of this.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m playing along so I won’t get my ass beat.”

  “You’re a true survivor, hun. Keep doing whatever you have to do to make it out of here. Quit worrying so much about me.”

  I ignore his words. “We have until tomorrow to figure another way out of here. First, I want you to have some soup.”

  “Emily, you need to promise me.”

  “Forget it, Jacob. We came into this together, and we’re coming out of this together. Hush and eat.”

  I wish I could have heated the soup, but since the generator is off, we no longer have electricity. Jacob manages to get a few sips of broth down before he’s completely exhausted.

  I hobble over to the box of medical supplies Kent left and rummage through it for anything useful. All I find are some gauze pads and tape, so I use them to cover the hole in Jacob’s abdomen. I wish there were more supplies. No, actually my real wish is for us to be home and for this nightmare to be over. I do my best to make Jacob comfortable, being extra fussy to keep my mind busy so I don’t cry. I situate the bedding in different ways until I finally come up with something halfway decent. Jacob takes my hand in his when I curl up next to him on the floor.

  “Emily, you are incredibly hardheaded and should listen to me about taking care of yourself. Regardless, thank you for taking care of me.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. It’s my fault you’re involved in this. Kent wants me, and you’re just a victim of circumstance who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I would never want you to go through this alone. Don’t feel any blame in this, Em. Do you hear me? You’re going to get out of here, and when you do, I don’t want you to ever blame yourself for anything that’s happened.” I stroke his hair with my free hand.

  “Let’s stop talking about what ifs. We’re getting out of this. I promise, Jacob.”

  “Emily?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you. From day we first met, I knew there was something special about you.”

  I smile down at him. “You saved me from a concussion the first time we met, and you’ve been saving me ever since.” The tears break free and slip down my cheeks. “You mean so much to me. Working with you, spending all of that time together, how can I not love you? You’re my best friend, the person I turn to when I need advice, support, or cheering up. You know more about me than anyone other than Pete. You’re like the brother I never had, and because we’re spilling everything, you’re also my biggest regret. I know I’m meant to be with Pete, but I also know that if he wasn’t in the picture…”

  He reaches a finger to touch my tear-soaked lips. “Shhhh, I know,” he says with the faint trace of a smile on his face. “Story of my life—bad timing. We’d have been good together.”

  “Yes, we would’ve been so good.”

  “I’m glad you agree. I’m not really feeling all that well right now. Don’t freak out, I’m just cold and tired. Will you rest with me?” I nod and hold him in my arms until he falls asleep. As I lie there listening to the rain pattering on the tin roof, the only thing on my mind is escaping. Sarah’s only escape was suicide, and I don’t even want to consider that as an option. Maybe something will come to me in my sleep.

  PETE

  By what seems to be Alphonse’s hundredth update, I finally get a glimmer of hope. Alphonse reports he’d followed Kent to a deserted boat landing, and Kent was gone for quite a while before coming back to trailer his boat.

  Normally, it isn’t a newsworthy event for a male from Louisiana to jump into a boat in the middle of a rainstorm, but that’s usually during hunting season. I’m more convinced than ever that Kent is up to no good.

  “Are you sure you weren’t spotted?” I ask.

  “That’s affirmative, Green Bean. No detection by the target. I got the inflatable boat I bought online stashed under some branches by the landing. If the target launches again, I’ll be able to follow him.”

  “An inflatable boat?”

  “Yep. I watched a show about how the Navy SEALs use them for missions. I went out the next day and got one for myself from the sporting goods store. You can never be too prepared, Green Bean.”

  If he wasn’t being so helpful, I’d have a smart ass retort to his overzealousness. Maybe old Alphonse isn’t so bad? Who knew he’d be so damned helpful? “I agree, String Bean. Thanks for the updates. Remember, it’s very important this mission remains a black op. Why don’t you tell me where the landing is?”

  After getting directions to the boat launch, I disconnect from Alphonse, and dial Bert’s cell phone.

  “Meet me at Greenleaf. We got something,” I say.

  “Be right there.”

  Once Bert arrives, I bring him upstairs to one of the closets in the master bedroom. After pulling out an assortment of ammunition and guns, I take a rifle, while Bert opts for one of the twelve gauge shotguns on the bed. We retreat to the den to discuss our plan. After checking the extra clips in my gun belt, I throw myself back onto the large sofa.

  “I can’t wait to get that son of a bitch,” I grumble through clenched teeth. “I feel so useless being stuck here while Em is god knows where.”

  “Hey, man. We’re gonna get him,” Bert does his best to reassure me. “Em’s a smart girl. She’ll be okay. That Alphonse sure has come through for you. I underestimated the little dude. He’s relentless.”

  I rest my forehead in the palm of my hand. “I know. Once this is over, I’ll make sure he gets the credit he deserves. I’d like for you to help me with strategy, but first, we need to talk about something more important.”

  “More important?” Bert asks.

  “This isn’t a work issue. I’m going vigilante with this one, and I don’t expect you to come with me. Undoubtedly, there will be repercussions, and I’m prepared to accept them, whatever they may be. I have to get her back, regardless of the consequences. Help me come up with a plan, and that’s all I ask of you.”

  “You’re joking, right? If it would be Connie out there, I know without a doubt you’d be the first person by my side. I’m doing this with you, brother.”

  I shake my head. “It’s too much for me to ask.”

  “You’re not asking; I’m volunteering. Now that it’s decided, let’s move on.”

  After about an hour of discussing options, Bert stands to leave. “Look, I’m going to get some rest, and you should do the same if we’re
going to be any good to Em.” Bert’s right. I look like shit from lack of sleep, and the last thing I need is to ruin a chance of rescuing her by not being able to think clearly. Thankfully, I fall asleep fairly easily that night.

  The sound of the cell phone wakes me. I jump from my short slumber and desperately fumble for the chirping device. I answer on the third ring.

  It’s Alphonse saying Kent is on the move again; his boat is trailered and ready to go. I tear through the room, pulling on the first clothes I can find. After urging him to stay in touch, I call Bert to come back over. I load the guns and equipment into the bass boat sitting docked in the boathouse. It’s as I’m gathering the final box of supplies that Bert rings the bell. He’s dressed in blue jeans, a t-shirt, and rubber boots instead of tennis shoes. I’m dressed the same, except my footwear is a pair of tactical boots. We clip our gun belts into place and quickly make our way to the boathouse.

  “Everything else is loaded. This is the last of it,” I say, climbing the boat.

  Bert works to lower it into the water, and the engine roars to life. I knock it into gear, and a steady wake trails behind us. We quickly make our way to the part of the bayou Alphonse described.

  I hear from Alphonse twice during the boat ride, and each phone call puts us closer to finding Kent. My adrenaline surges when during the last call, Alphonse says he can see a small floating camp docked along the pipeline. Just as I’m trying to narrow down the location, the phone loses signal.

  “Damn it!” I yell, throwing the phone onto the floor of the boat. “We’re going to have to cruise the pipeline. Keep your eyes open for a floating camp.”

  “I’m on it,” Bert says.

  EMILY

  It’s past dawn when I awaken. Still sore and groggy, I look over at Jacob. The color of his skin scares me, but I’m relieved to see he’s still breathing. I decide to let him to sleep because rest is basically the only treatment available to him.

  The edge of the camp dips down, startling the hell out of me. I never heard the boat approaching, and I’m frozen with terror when the front door flies open, slamming into the wall.