Code 3: Finding Safety (8 page)

Twenty Three

Mark drove through the night and made it to the Georgia state line in record time.  Two lines of speed and a 5-Hour Energy was all he needed to stay alert for twenty-four straight hours. He’s on a bit of a time crunch.  The amount of Propofol he had to knock Leanna out with was only enough for no more than thirty-six hours.  That means he has to have her back to Danville and in his father’s dungeon before then.

Now that he’s heading down the old dirt road to his daddy’s house, a malevolent smile fills half his face.  Memories of his father locking his mother in the dungeon and torturing her flood his pre-frontal cortex.  He loved watching him control his woman.  The cries and pleas to end her life made him all warm inside.  Now, today it’s Mark’s turn.  Yes, for years Leanna disobeyed and did stupid things but his father said what she did wasn’t bad enough for use of the dungeon.  That was until she pulled this stunt.  Mark’s not sure who was more pissed, him or his father.

Mark slides the car to an abrupt halt in front of his childhood home.  He crushes out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray.  His door opens with a long squeak and shuts with a heavy thud.  Gravel crushes under his weight as he makes his way to the trunk and pops it open.  The stench that radiates out of the trunk damn near knocks him off his feet.  Leanna, as a result of the amount of Propofol, has urinated and defecated herself.  “Fuck, you smell as bad as you look.  Maybe you should’ve stayed your ass put instead of running around playing house.”

Mark grabs her under her arms and flings her out of the car.  Her body lands on the ground with a thump.  He wraps his hands around her hair and drags her toward the front door.  No way does he want to risk getting her bodily fluids all over him.

“Pa!”  He yells through the screen door.  “Is it open?”

His Pa steps out on the porch and looks between his son and his daughter-in-law.  He spits some chew on the dirt just centimeters from Leanna and shakes his head in disgust.  “Yeah, it’s open.  You know how to hook her up right, boy?”

“I sure do, Pa.  Watched you lock Mama up several times,” Mark smiles from ear to ear.  He remembers his mother hanging for almost two weeks one time.  She had bruised wrists and welts along her skin.  Pa had to really beat her that time.  It was the third time she’d tried to leave him and he wanted it to be the last time.  Unfortunately it wasn’t her last time.  Her last time was the next time and it was only the last because Pa made it so. 

It was a cold, winter day.  Snow littered the dirt road and Pa had just gone to bed, leaving Ma to her chores.  Not long after he started snoring, she grabbed her coat and took off out the back door.  Mark had seen her run off.  Without hesitation, he ran into his Pa’s room and shook him awake.  “Pa, Pa, Ma’s taken off again,” his little ten year-old voiced hollered out.

Pa jumped out of bed and slides his boots on.  “Which way did she go, boy?”  He questioned as he grabbed his 20 gauge shot gun from the side of his bed.

“She went thata way,” Mark pointed toward the back door and watched his Pa take off after her.

Mark stayed home, alone, while Pa went to catch his ma.  It wasn’t long before he heard a distant gun shot.  Even though he’d grown up with guns his entire life, the sound still caused him to jump.

He stared out the window and waited to see his parents walk up, but that night was different.  That night, he saw his Pa dragging his Ma through the snow.  When they got closer, Mark saw a trail of dark red blood behind his Ma. 

He watched as they headed toward the dungeon, though it wasn’t really a dungeon in the terms that it was underground.  Pa had turned the old machine shed out back into a makeshift torture chamber—a place where a man could teach his woman how to behave.

Mark, scared seeing the blood behind his ma, took off outside to meet his pa, “Pa, Pa, what happened?”  Little Mark held back tears that threatened to fall.  He knew that crying was for sissies and if he cried, his Pa would’ve whooped his ass raw.

“I had to do what was necessary, boy,” he replied as he begun to cuff his wife’s limp and unresponsive body to the two cuffs suspended from the ceiling. 

She hung there, her body lifeless as blood dripped from her midsection.  The only sign of life was a horrible, cackling sound as she inhaled and exhaled.  “Is she gonna be alright, Pa?”

Once all the locks were in place, he turned and looked his son dead in his eyes.  “I don’t think so, but she got what she deserved, boy.  A woman’s place is in the home, caring for every need of her man.  Your ma knew her role but refused to abide to it.”

He went back to the house leaving little Mark and his ma in the dungeon.  Mark stood there for what seemed like hours but could have only been a few minutes until his ma took her final breath.  One tear ran down his cheek.  He wiped that bastard away with the back of his hand and allowed anger to sweep in—anger at all women.

Mark hurries to get Leanna cuffed to the same mechanism that his mother died in.  Leanna’s body lies lifeless on the floor as he locks each cuff before heading over to the chains and hoisting her in the air—only her toes touch the ground.

“Now, to wait for the bitch to wake up and the fun to begin.”  He lights a smoke and plops his ass on a stool.

Twenty Four

James, Travis and Wyatt drive from Texas to Georgia without making any stops aside from fuel.  While one drove, the other two devised their plan to find and save Leanna.  They knew from what Leanna had told James that they couldn’t trust local law enforcement there.  The sheriff and his goons always protected Mark and turned a blind eye to the bodily injuries that Leanna sustained as a result of his anger.

As they cross the Georgia line from Alabama, James dials Maryanne’s number.  She would be their only source of information about the area and the people in Danville.  After the third ring, a woman’s voice echoes from the other end.  “Hello?”

“Maryanne?”  James questions hoping this is the right number for her.

“Yeah, who wants to know?”

“My name’s James.  Leanna is my, er, um, girlfriend,” he rambles off not sure what Leanna’s told her about him.  He knows that he should’ve called her before they departed Texas but he didn’t want to worry her any sooner than needed.

“Oh, oh, you’re the James she told me about.  Wait a minute, why are you calling me?  Is Leanna alright?”

James sulks, “No, Maryanne.  She’s not alright.  She’s missing.  I think…”

“Mark found her,” she interrupts James and starts fumbling around.  James hears the rustling of things and then the racking sound of a shot gun.

“Maryanne, whatever you’re doing, just stop.  My friends and I just crossed into Georgia and we’re just a few minutes outside of Danville.”

Maryanne sighs on the other end of the line.  “Ok, well, you guys are going to meet up with me over here and I’ll show you where that bastard and his crazier-than-shit father live at.  You have to save my girl,” Maryanne remarks.

“We will, Maryanne.  I want her home more than I want anything in life.”

Maryanne gives James directions to her home before saying their goodbyes.  James’ heart begins to pound harder and faster with every mile.  “We have an ally in Danville,” he tells Travis and Wyatt as he pockets his cell phone before resting his head on the back of the seat and taking in a deep breath of air into his lungs.

Twenty Five

Leanna slowly begins to stir.  Her head feels fuzzy and her body aches. 
What the hell happened,
is the first question that swims through her foggy mind.  Her eyes begin to flutter open and she takes in her surroundings. 

She’s hung up on a ceiling and just ahead of her is a rotted work bench with whips and chains with branding irons lying across it.  Her heart races as she tugs on her bindings only to discover that they are firmly attached to her wrists.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join the land of the living,” Mark’s voice rings from a corner chair—a chair she missed when she assessed her situation.  He rises from the chair and walks toward her, a knife in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. 
The bastard and his fucking whittling,
Leanna thinks to herself with disgust and contempt spreading across her face. 

“What are you doing, Mark?  Why did you kidnap me?”  She shakes her hands trying in vain to get free.

“I didn’t kidnap you.  I only took what was rightfully mine.  When you married me, you became
my
property.  Only I can rid myself of my property.  You,” he gets up in her face, eyes dancing with fury, “don’t get to decide when I’ve had enough of you.”

He pokes her rib cage with his whittling knife causing Leanna to jump in both surprise and pain.

“That’s not what marriage is about, Mark.  That’s not how this is supposed to be.  It’s supposed to be a partnership, based on love and trust.  We married for convenience and nothing more.  I want more, Mark.  I found more,” she cries out. 

A hard back hand smacks her on the side of her face.  She screams in agony as her face begins to swell on impact.  “You found more?  You found
more!
  Bitch, you found out that you were a whore, that’s what you found.  You were fucking some other guy while you were mine!  That pussy,” he grabs her full mound and squeezes hard enough to make her tear up.  “That pussy is mine and you allowed some other prick to have fun with it.  Well, not again.  I’m going to tear that shit up so you know whose dick belongs there,” he releases her only to punch her straight in her nose, blood spurting all over the floor.

Between the pain and the drug in her system, she begins to blackout.  She sees Mark grabbing a tool from the table.  She says a little prayer that God ends her suffering before the darkness consumes her.

Twenty Six

Maryanne has food on the table when the guys arrive.  She quickly ushers them in and gets them seated at the eat-in kitchen and begins serving them large helpings of spaghetti, meatballs, salad and bread.  “I hope this is okay with all of you.  I didn’t have much time to make dinner with such little notice,” she says as she wipes her hands on her apron.

“This is great.  Thank you,” Travis nods his head.

“Yeah, this will hit the spot,” Wyatt agrees.

“I’d eat anything at this point,” James remarks before shoveling a bite of food in his mouth. 

“I know you guys probably aren’t that hungry considering the circumstances but we all need to eat and you boys need to keep your strength up if you’re going to rescue my best friend.”

The boys nod their head while Maryanne pulls up a barstool.  “So, I’ll talk while you three eat and listen.”

They nod their head again and all three, in unison, reply, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, Mark lives here in town, in a rundown old house but he hasn’t been home since the day that Leanna left Dansville.  The only other place he can be at is his daddy’s house,” she pulls out a self-drawn ‘map’ of the property.

“Now, you see, this is the main house.  And this,” she points just to the right of the main home, “this is the garage.  But now this….this is the building we need to focus on.  This is the machine shed and this is where Mark’s daddy keeps the dungeon.”

“Dungeon?”  James questions, swallowing his bite hard.

“
We
need to focus?”  Wyatt repeats.

“Well, it’s not really a dungeon but that’s what Mark and his daddy, Earl, call it.  It’s more of a torture chamber from what I’ve been led to assume.”

“Again, I ask ‘
we
need to focus,’” Wyatt repeats his previous questions.

“Yes, we,” she rolls her eyes at the brut before her.

“I don’t think there’s any we.  The boys and I are going to be doing this on our own.  We don’t need to worry about another damsel needing rescuing.  Owww…” Wyatt shouts as he pushes his seat back and begins to rub his shin.  “What the fuck was that for?”  He glares across the table at Travis.

“Mind your manners,” Travis growls at him.

“I’m going to go with you boys.  Leanna needs me and I know the area.  You’ll never find the property without me,” she holds her own to Wyatt.  “And, for your information, I don’t need any rescuing.  You may think all women are helpless but you just met one that can handle her own, boy!”

Wyatt continues to rub his shin and hang his head.  Maryanne has lived through enough in her thirty years on this earth and she’s not helpless like most men think.  Big things come in small, unsuspecting packages and Wyatt’s going to learn that lesson, one way or another.

The four of them finish out their plan and fine tune what they need to do to rescue Leanna.  Maryanne clears the dishes and rinses them before leaving them in the sink to be washed after they get Leanna back.

“Okay guys, let’s get going.”

Twenty Seven

Leanna passed out well before Mark could start to have any fun with her.  He gave her another small dose of Propofol to make sure she slept for the next few hours so he could get some rest and be alert for the
fun
he had in store for her today.

He takes an ammonia soaked rag and swipes it under her nose.  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he sing-songs.  “I’ve got a fun-filled day planned for your ass.”

Mark watches as Leanna jerks her head back at the pungent smell of the ammonia.  A half smile forms along his face as he takes in the joy of torturing his wife—his property.  Though Leanna’s escape from him angered him to the point of murder, he was glad that she’d done what she did.  Now he gets to have the pleasure of beating her into the type of woman that he wants.  A woman whose only desire is to make sure he’s taken care of.

He places the rag on the table behind him.  He grabs a leather whip and slides it through his hand.  Without a word, he raises the whip and strikes her along her ribcage with it.  A loud slap echoes through the room while an ear piercing scream rings out.  “You can scream all you want but no one will hear you; and, even if they did, no one will help you,” he laughs a menacing laugh before erupting into a deep smokers cough.

“Why are you doing this to me?”  She screams out just before sobs rack her body. 

Another, unsuspecting whip hits her outer thigh.  She screams out again, this time tears fall down her face at record speed.  “You need to learn your role.  You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.  You are to be seen but unheard, do you understand?”

Leanna nods her head.  Another thrash with the whip causes her to scream before biting her lip to try to keep as quiet as possible.  “I asked a fucking question, whore.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” she quickly slurs out.  “Please, Mark.  Please don’t do this to me.”

Another lashing of the whip has her writhing in pain against the chains.  Tears spill down her cheeks.  Mark begins to pace the room, watching her with intent.  Mark finds this torture exciting—exuberant.  He’s never found himself experiencing this much enthusiasm for anything.  A piece of him never wants this to end.  He never wants to give up his control over her and the ‘fun’ that he’s experiencing.

He puts the whip back on the table and glares at her, elation extends from his eyes.  He looks from Leanna back to the table.  His synapses are firing at rapid speed.  He reaches out and grabs the dull knife on the table.  He places his thumb on the tip and twists it on his finger as he makes eye contact with Leanna and, slowly, walks toward her.

He takes the knife and slides it under her shirt and pulls, ripping the shirt in two.  Leanna screams, startled by the action, causing Mark to back hand her with his freehand.  “Don’t you dare,” he rumbles before sliding the knife between her skin and the front of her bra.  Again, one swift movement and the bra parts in two.

Without touching her skin, he pushes the two cups to the side to expose her breasts.  Thoughts of the cop with his hands and mouth all over those plump tits invoke rage within him.  He drops the knife on the floor and makes his way back to the table. 

After locating the item he was looking for, he retrieves it and quickly makes his way back to Leanna.  “These,” he points toward her breasts, “these are fucking mine!  You allowed someone to touch these without my fucking permission.  Now…now you need to pay.”

He takes a pair of nipple clamps and places them on each one of her rosy nipples.  Leanna doesn’t react as intensely as Mark had anticipating, causing his temper to go into a frenzy.  He places more tension on the clamps and, before he knows it, Leanna is writhing and screaming in pain.  Watching her struggle against the chains, knowing she’s feeling extreme pain from the pressure of the nipple clamp causes his dick to come to life.  He can’t remember the last time his dick throbbed to be inside Leanna, but the sounds of her pain wake him inside.

“Yeah baby, keep fighting.  Daddy likes that,” he says as he begins to rub himself through his dingy, faded Levi’s.  “Who would’ve thunk you to be sexually attractive while in pain.  Had I known this years ago, I would’ve been screwing your pretty little brains out long ago.”

As he continues to rub himself, the dungeon doors fly open.  He whips his head up to see his Pa standing there.  “What’s all the ruckus boy?  Can’t you keep…” Earl Dickson trails off when he sees his daughter-in-law’s predicament.  “Well, I’ll be damned, the bitch has a nice rack on her boy!”

Mark smiles from ear to ear at Earl’s praise of his wife.  “Thanks, Pa.”

“Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Earl says as he slaps his hands together.

“What?  You can’t stay here,” Mark looks at his father as if he doesn’t recognize the man standing before him.

“To hell I can’t.  This is my property and my tools.”

Mark, not wanting to go against his Pa, shrugs his shoulders and turns his back.  His joy has just been shattered.  He didn’t want to share this moment with anyone and now he has no choice.  He bows his head and meets his father at the table as Leanna continues to cry out in pain.