Protector Read online

  “No!” I jerk my arm free and rush forward. I run into the living room where I’ve spent so many happy nights laughing with my brother.

  The men are busy pulling him to his feet.

  “Let him go!” I scream at them and in this irrational moment I actually believe I can take both of them down.

  The man holding Josh’s right arm actually smirks at me, as if I’m nothing but a pesky fly.

  I reach out and just as I’m about to grab hold of Josh, arms come around me. My eyes meet Josh’s and I see nothing but dismay and despair reflected back at me. I don’t understand why he’s not fighting.

  I try to yank free from the tight grip, but it’s useless. I’m just not strong enough.

  The man who was smirking just a minute ago moves his right arm and only then do I see the flash of metal. A gun. For a stunned second I frown, but then I notice the other gun, glimmering in the hand of the man holding Josh’s left arm.

  These men are armed!

  Gears click into place and my mouth dries up with terror. My body goes stiff from the sudden wave of tension that hits me.

  These men are going to hurt us badly. I have to do something. I have to get help.

  I turn around to run but I’m stopped dead in my tracks as a fist slams hard into the side of my head. The pain is sharp, burning a scorching path down my cheek and into my neck. My whole body flies back from the unexpected blow. I try to reach out … to grab hold of something, anything. But there’s nothing. My shoulder blades hit the floor first, jarring my upper body. The back of my head slams into the side of the wall. A dull ache creeps down my neck and then my vision blurs.

  Riley~

  Dreams offer us a way of escaping when there is nowhere to run to, when there is nowhere left to hide.

  If only I could dream us to safety.

  My memory is a foggy mess. I can’t remember everything that happened. I don’t know who has us. I don’t know why we were taken.

  I remember getting the pizza and driving to Josh’s house. I remember the smell of the pizza … but nothing else. My last clear memory is of parking my car behind Josh’s.

  I’ve tried calling out to whoever has us, but there has been no response to my pleas.

  I have cried.

  I have begged.

  I have groveled.

  I have even prayed.

  My eyes keep darting to the other chairs. Mom is closest to me and then Dad. Logan and Josh are at the far end. Every member of my family has been beaten. Mom’s one eye is swollen shut. The sight of her face beaten so badly keeps sending shudders through me.

  I keep calling to them, wishing they would wake up. They need to wake up. Once they’re awake we’ll be able to get out of this mess.

  I need them to wake up.

  I was shocked to see that we’re all here. I still don’t understand any of this. Why are we tied down to chairs? Why are we here? What’s happening?

  Josh starts to stir just as a huge man fills the doorway, and for a moment something looks familiar about him, but the thought disappears as quickly as it comes.

  The man grins, and it makes him look evil, like something from a horror movie.

  Maybe because I’m so incredibly terrified I give him more power than he actually has. Fear intensifies any situation. I learned this lesson while I was in Africa. Our camp was once ransacked by a pack of hungry monkeys. I was stupid enough to leave my tent to go see what all the fuss and racket was about. There was a monkey right outside my tent. Truth be told, he had a bigger fright when he saw me. He bared his teeth at me, sharp canines. Growling and hissing, his warning said clearly he would bite me if I dared to take what he had come to steal. They left the camp in a mess. We weren’t in any actual danger as long as the monkeys didn’t feel threatened, but I did almost wet myself when that monkey growled at me, and he was a tiny fur ball, come to think of it. Our tour guide then told me fear intensifies any situation. The monkey had been more afraid of me than I had been of him. I should remember this when facing danger.

  Staring at the huge man, I don’t think it counts for this situation. The man isn’t scared of me, or any of us for that matter, not like the monkey was.

  I, on the other hand, am terrified of him. Fear is liquefying my insides. Fear is definitely intensifying this moment for me.

  The man starts to stalk towards me like I had seen a lion once stalk its prey on one of the safaris I was on. Back then I found it captivating - but now I’m petrified out of my mind.

  “St-stay away,” I manage to stutter while it feels as if fear is enveloping me like a thick mist. My feeble plea only makes his lips curve into a disgusting sneer.

  He’s bad, all bad. I’ve read a lot of books where the bad boys have blue eyes, black hair and are ripped with muscles and tattoos. Somehow, those bad boys become the hero later in the story.

  I’ve even spent nights dreaming of my own bad boy kidnapping me and then falling hopelessly in love with me.

  Never again will I glamorize a horrible situation.

  This man with his watery blue gaze, greasy black strands that hang uneven in his face, is not the bad boy I’ve read about so many times before. Colorful ink covers his arms, every inch, until it disappears under the sleeves of his faded brown shirt. It’s all skulls and knives … angry tattoos.

  He takes another threatening step towards me and it makes me panic and yank at the bonds around my wrists. I have to get my hands free. I have to defend myself somehow.

  He shakes his head slowly … so slowly it’s unnerving.

  Suddenly, he storms at me and it rips a terrified scream from my throat.

  “Oh, my God!”

  For a precious moment my mind freezes in absolute terror as the bulk of his body hulks over mine. The sheer shock of my personal space being violated like this shudders through me.

  His fist slams hard into the side of my face and it makes me gag with pain. Awful emotions explode inside of me – confusion being the main one. I don’t understand why this man is hurting me.

  No one has ever touched me in anger. As child my parents didn’t even give me a spanking. Physical punishment is a foreign thing to me. I’ve only known love and shelter my whole life.

  Before I can try to make sense of anything, another blow crashes into the side of my head, making my ear ring with pain.

  The stink of his sweat wafts up my nostrils and it makes me feel nauseous. It brings me back to the here and now of this awful situation.

  The man walks over to Mom and then drags her chair over to the opposite side of the room. Halfway there Mom starts to whimper as she comes to. She tries to lift her head and then looks around her. I see the same horror I’m feeling wash over her face.

  “Mom!” I call out to her. “We’re going to be okay.” Josh will get us out of this mess. Josh always fixes everything. He just needs to wake up.

  Next, the man unties Dad and I watch with increasing dread as he drags Dad’s limp body over to the other side of the big room. It looks like we’re in some sort of warehouse, which only confuses me more. There are some empty crates scattered on the one side and metal sheets on the other. Nothing stands out about this place. I have no idea where we are.

  “Dad!” I yell, hoping he’ll wake up. He has to wake up. He has to help Josh so they can get us out of here. They need to talk to this man and tell him it’s all a horrible mistake.

  The man hooks the bonds around Dad’s hands to a hook and chain contraption. My mouth opens but the scream doesn’t come out. It’s sucked back into my chest where it detonates, wreaking havoc with my insides.

  Dad … he’s the foundation our family is built on.

  My eyes jump to Mom. She’s a whimpering bloody mess. I can actually see her body trembling from the pain she must be feeling. She looks dazed, not fully aware of her surroundings.

  Who would beat Mom so badly? Why? My beautiful and loving mother … who would be so cruel to hurt her like this, to hurt us all? What did we do to des
erve this?

  Logan groans, and my eyes dart back to where the man is pulling Logan off the chair and then he drags him to the side of the room. He handcuffs Logan to a pipe that’s bolted to the wall, near the metal sheets. He looks even worse now that I have a clear view of his face. There’s a cut above his left eye that’s gushing blood. Stupidly I think that he’ll need stitches, and that it will definitely leave a scar on his handsome face.

  The man grabs the back of Josh’s chair and drags him to the middle of the floor and it’s only then that I realize he’s positioning us in a circle formation around Josh.

  Everything slows down until my world becomes a blur and it’s hard to focus on anything. It’s hard to make sense of what I’m seeing.

  I hear a roar of anger as Josh comes to.

  Everything will be okay now. Josh is waking up. Josh will fix this mess - because that’s all it is - some horrible misunderstanding.

  The man comes over to me and he unties the bonds that are keeping my wrists tied to the chair. He hauls me up onto unsteady legs and then his hand slams hard against the back of my already throbbing head. My body loses the will to stand, and I fall to my knees. Pain explodes through my kneecaps, vibrating up to my hips.

  Something cold and unyielding comes around my neck and then I’m pulled backwards. Cold steel bites into my neck and I feel it tearing at my skin. I start to gag, making awful noises as my fingers claw at the chain around my neck.

  My mind just can’t process what’s happening. If I process my surroundings, my beaten family, the pain and fear – then it will make all of this horribly real.

  “Fuck you!” I hear Josh scream and it sounds desperate … so desperate it makes my heart shudder with dread. “Let them go! They have nothing to do with this.” I hear him sob and then he begs, “Fuck … please … please let my family go.”

  I raise my upper body so I can see Josh. I need to try and offer him some sort of comfort. I hear a weird sound behind me, like metal running over metal, and then the chain around my neck bites at my skin, and I’m hauled up from the floor until I’m standing on the very tip of my toes.

  Through blurring eyes I see Josh. He’s fighting the restrains that’s keeping him tied to the chair. He growl in anger and his eyes dart to each one of us - Dad, Mom, Logan and then me. He looks almost feverish with panic.

  I’ve never felt fear like this before. The three men who have always protected me are tied up and severely beaten. The three men who have given me absolute shelter throughout my life can’t even help themselves, never mind me or Mom. The thought paralyzes me. I always thought my father and brothers were unbreakable.

  “They’re innocent. Please, let them go,” Josh cries out as he tries to free himself from the restraints.

  “Innocent.” The word is spit into the air, and my eyes dart in the direction it came from. Boots scuff on the concrete floor.

  I see a pale skinned man, and my eyes widen with fear. It makes sweat bead along the back of my neck.

  His neck, jaw and cheeks are covered with rubbery skin that looks like a burn wound. The burned skin makes his left eye drag downwards. He’s tall and skinny and seems to be walking with a limp.

  My skin crawls at the sight of him. His dark eyes find mine and he gives me a malicious grin that makes my stomach sink to the floor.

  That’s when I think of it for the first time … death. This man wants to kill me and he’s going to enjoy doing it.

  All I can hear is my thundering heart and short, panicked breaths.

  My whole body goes numb with a suffocating fear as he continues to stare at me.

  “There’s no such thing,” he spits the words out, and for a sluggish moment my brain struggles to understand what he’s saying.

  The man turns his cruel eyes on Josh and then he says, “How does it feel, Mr. Woods?” He throws his arms wide and sneers hatefully, “Your family is at my mercy.”

  “Let them go, Volkov,” Josh says. It sounds more like a hopeless whimper. “They have nothing to do with this. Your business is with me.”

  The man nods and he actually looks deep in thought, as if he’s considering Josh’s plea. But then he shakes his head again.

  He snaps his fingers. “Dmitri!”

  A man dressed in a crisp, black suit walks towards Josh. It’s only then that I notice the other two men as well. They all have heavy looking guns tucked into a strap that rests under their left arms. They look professional and calm.

  Dmitri stops in front of Josh. He’s carrying a cracked old bowl.

  The scarred man, who I now know is called Volkov, seems to be the one in charge. He flicks his wrist, motioning to the bowl. “I’ll give you something you never gave me, Mr. Woods. You were a coward when you bombed my daughter’s wedding. You show no remorse for taking her life, for taking the life of my son and wife.” He covers his mouth, needing a moment to compose himself and I can see the grief clearly etched into the lines of his face.

  Josh hurt this man?

  My big brother … my hero took people’s lives?

  Horrified, my eyes dart to Josh. The last bit of spit in my mouth dries up and my tongue feels heavy. I take in a shuddering breath and feel the chain bite into my neck. It reminds me of the horrible position I’m in, of the hopeless situation my family is in – all because of something Josh did to this man.

  Before I can try to process what my brother has done, the man continues, “You will find four items in the bowl, Mr. Woods. Choose one.”

  Josh shakes his head. “I won’t choose,” he sobs.

  Dmitri shoves the bowl into Josh’s face and growls at him.

  “Choose, Mr. Woods, or your family will die the same way mine did.”

  A hopeless sound escapes Josh’s throat, and in horror I hear him whisper, “Blade.”

  My left foot twists painfully as it gives way. For a frightful moment the chain rips the breath right from my lungs. My fingers dig into the steel as I try to pull it away from my throat. A hoarse cry escapes my lips but I finally manage to find my footing again, giving myself the precious inch I need to suck in the life-giving air. My left foot is burning with a sharp pain, but I force myself to remain standing on it. I don’t want to be suffocated again.

  I’m so confused and scared. It feels as if my perfect life has been blown apart and I can’t make sense of all the pieces left in the chaos.

  I’ve forgotten about the huge man who hit me until he comes from somewhere behind me. He walks towards Dad and then the gleam of the knife in his right hand grabs my attention.

  “Please don’t!” Josh starts to beg. “Kill me anyway you want to, just please … don’t hurt them.”

  “No,” the word is a harsh breath over my lips as the realization hits hard. The man is going to kill Dad.

  I once heard that hope is the heartbeat of the soul. Whoever wrote that is so very wrong.

  Hope gives you a false sense of security.

  Hope lets you live in denial.

  Hope sets you up for the fall.

  Hope only prolongs the suffering.

  Riley~

  Have you ever seen a bomb detonate? Just after the explosion, there’s this hissing silence and then chaos follows - rubble, destruction and so much pain and sorrow.

  Right now, it’s as if that scenario is being played in reverse.

  It’s a terrifying chaos as that man goes to stand in front of Dad. Dad’s still unconscious. He can’t even do anything to defend himself.

  Life seems to be returning to my body in flashes. First, I start to yank at the chain. Then my mouth opens in a horrifying, silent scream.

  The man grabs a fistful of Dad’s hair, shoves his head back, and then I watch as he presses the blade to Dad’s neck.

  A violent pain blossoms in my chest and it threatens to bring the walls down around me. I watch as blood starts to trickle down Dad’s neck and then the man shoves the blade deeper.

  I start to scream as hysteria hits me in waves. Part of me is c
aught in a nightmare-like state, refusing to believe that this is actually happening right now.

  The man just walks away after slicing Dad’s neck open. My eyes are glued to my father’s blood flowing from the wound. The hysteria rages inside of me until I’m swept away in a maddening mania.

  I can’t think clearly anymore.

  I can’t process what I’m seeing.

  All I can do is weep, scream, and yank at the unforgiving chain around my neck.

  This - whatever this sick and twisted situation is - cannot be happening.

  This is not real … this is not real … this is not real.

  My screams ebb away until they become a mess of chaotic sobs and hiccups.

  It’s only then I hear Mom’s desperate wailing. I’ve never heard her cry like that before.

  I hear Josh roar in anger and grief, cursing and shouting threats.

  Logan is pulling at the pipe, trying to get free as tears run down his face. Our eyes meet and it renews his efforts to free himself.

  “Choose again,” Volkov hisses.

  His voice makes my breath freeze in my throat. My heart no longer beats heavy and hard. It’s a smattering of painful thumps.

  My eyes keep darting to Dad. We need to get him to a hospital. He needs help urgently.

  “Fuck you!” Josh screams. He struggles against the bonds keeping him tied to the chair until he falls over onto his side. His head hits the concrete hard, but he doesn’t seem to notice in his struggle to get free.

  The two men who have been silently standing to the side walk over to Josh and haul the chair up and back into an upright position.

  The other man, Dmitri, is just silently standing there, holding the bowl in front of Josh’s face. Josh spits into the bowl and it makes one of the other men slam a fist into the side of his face. The impact makes his head snap to the side.

  I try to scream at them to stop this madness but the chain keeps my words from coming out clearly. They sound like a garbled mess.

  “You refuse to choose?” Volkov asks calmly, way too calm.