Love Lies Dying (51 page)

Her eyes darted back to his cock and a worried look passed across her face.

“Oh Johnny,” she whispered. “What have I done?”

He looked at her but said nothing.

She raised her hands in front of her face, her eyes staring at the blood on them.

“What have I done?” she repeated.

John noticed the diamond in her belly button was hanging off-centre.

She reached down by the bed and grabbed her jeans. Then, she turned from him and sprinted across the church and up the spiral staircase to the hatch.

John watched her go, his eyes following her small round arse cheeks as she ran from him.

He heard the hatch open and slam shut, but his brain was working in slow motion. Sounds were as sluggish as his thoughts. He heard the hatch, but it didn’t register with him until she was almost back standing by his side.

And then she was bending over him, the jeans in her hands, the material brushing the side of his face, the half-heart pendant dangling before his eyes. He could hear the rattle of the handcuffs and could feel his arms shaking.

But his brain couldn’t process what was happening to him.

And then his arms came free.

Huh?

Zoe removed the cuffs from each wrist and brought his hands down from over his head to rest by his side.

She smiled at him then.

“Is that better?” she asked.

He nodded.

She threw her jeans to one side. The sound of the keys hitting the floor echoed around the church. The handcuffs fell from her hands a few seconds later, echoing loudly in the silence as well.

“You have to help me,” she whispered to him.

He nodded, not understanding. Not thinking.

“I’ve gone too far this time,” she said. “Here.”

She placed some gauze in his hands.

“Help me fix you up.”

John stared at her for a second, then he lifted his head and looked at the gauze.

“I’ll get some water and a towel,” she continued.

John turned his head to stare back at her, but she was already gone, running towards the kitchenette.

The slapping of her feet on the church floorboards slowly reached him through the mist in his brain.

Carefully, John lifted himself up into a sitting position. He looked down at the rest of his body; his hips pushed into the air by the bible, his blood-red flaccid cock.

Still the pain didn’t register.

The pins and needles flowing through his arms as circulation returned was all the pain he could handle for now. He just sat there, waiting for the stabbing pinpricks of pain to subside.

John tried to think straight. He tried to get his thoughts back in order. But his mind wasn’t working properly. Time had ceased to flow. The events that happened before him now only registered in a stop-start manner.

Sounds were divorced from actions.

Actions were stilted.

Then Zoe was back by his side, dabbing a towel at his cock.

Cold and wet.

The towel was white, quickly turning pink from the blood.

John held the gauze, looking on, passing it to her when she asked.

The pins and needles soon disappeared, only to be replaced by a dull deep ache between his legs. John sat still, watching her work in front of him, staring at her braids as they swung in the air.

And then his cock was bandaged.

He watched as the bandages began to turn pink too.

This is wrong.

A random thought made it through the minefield of his mind.

She was talking to him.

He turned his head and watched her lips move. But the sound didn’t come until a few seconds later.

“….I truly am, Johnny,” she was saying.

Huh?

“…planned. But it will soon be over.”

He closed his eyes tight and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He raised his right arm to his head and rubbed his temple.

“…and I love you…”

Have to concentrate.

Have to.

“And now you’ll be mine forever.”

He opened his eyes once more and stared at her.

She smiled.

She held the branding iron in her hand.

“Forever,” she whispered again.

The branding iron…

John looked down at the bed quilt and slowly shook his head. He used the colours in the quilt to try and focus his mind, to concentrate on what he had to do. He tried to find the words to explain. But they wouldn’t come.

His eyes wandered across to his bandaged cock. The wrappings were pink and wet now and John could see the tip of his cock-ring poking out of the top of the bandages.

He lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak to her.

But she wasn’t by his side.

He turned his head and tried to focus.

He stared across the church and found her.

She was standing by the counter at the kitchenette, the branding iron in her hand.

She was saying something, he could see her mouth moving, but his mind wasn’t processing properly; the sounds weren’t getting through.

She turned to look at him with a strange expression on her face.

He held out a hand, trying to explain to her something that he had now forgotten, but his mouth wouldn’t work.

She placed the branding iron on the counter and then put a hand on her naked hip.

He tried to talk, to get his thoughts into line.

I must, I must. Fight it!

She shook her head and said something more.

John tried to concentrate, to get the sounds he heard into some sort of order.

“…maybe I’m just going crazy.”

He heard her say it.

Yes. Fight it. You’re winning!

His mind was starting to work again.

He was fighting the cloud of unconsciousness. And he was winning.

Fight it!

“Zoe,” he heard himself say.

Yes!

She turned to him and smiled, picking up the branding iron again.

But then just as quickly she lost the smile and looked away from him. Emotions he couldn’t read flowed across her face.

He followed her gaze.

His eyes stopped at the open door to the church.

And the person standing there.

“You!”

PART III

Fifty-one

“You!” Zoe repeated.

John’s eyes focussed more. His head started to clear as he looked at the person standing in the doorway.

Sherrie.

She’d made it!

And just in time.

Her lips were moving, but John’s mind was still too sluggish to put the words in the right order. His eyes darted between Zoe and Sherrie as he fought to clear his mental fog.

Zoe was shaking her head. Her mouth wide open and her hands on her hips.

It was the loud clatter of the branding iron hitting the floor that finally snapped him back into gear.

The iron had slipped from Zoe’s hand, falling onto the floor. The loud metallic ring echoed around the church.

Sherrie took a step further forward into the church. Her head turned as she looked around, surveying the room.

And then her eyes met John’s.

“John?” she asked, a look of shock stretched across her face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. He sat on the bed, nodding slowly.

Sherrie took a step closer to Zoe as her head turned to meet her eyes.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded.

The words were making sense to John once more.

Zoe stared back at her. For a long moment, no one moved or said anything. Then, Zoe’s face crumbled as emotions swept across her. She glanced to the floor as her forehead creased.

Sherrie continued to look at Zoe, not breaking her stare.

John’s eyes darted between both women.

And then, slowly, Zoe backed away until her buttocks met the kitchen counter.

The silence continued.

Zoe just leaned there, staring at the church floor, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

“Sherrie?” John’s voice croaked. He held his hand out to her.

Carefully, while keeping her eyes on Zoe, Sherrie made her way across the church to him.

John’s eyes continued to jump between the two women.

Zoe still hadn’t moved. She continued leaning against the kitchen bench, her eyes to the floor, her braids hanging over each shoulder.

And then Sherrie was by his side.

“John, what’s happened to you?” Her face was a mixture of disgust and shock. “What’s been happening?”

“Not now,” he replied. “I’ll tell you later. Just get me out of here. And quick.”

Sherrie started to untie the ropes around his ankles. As she did so, John’s eyes moved back to Zoe.

Her whole body was rocking back and forth now. Her arms crossed her chest, as if she wanted to hide her breasts. Her face looked confused; emotions he couldn’t read spread across it.

Is she just going to let me go?

John’s left leg was free.

“I don’t believe this,” Sherrie whispered as she turned back to check on Zoe.

John found it hard to take his eyes from Zoe. He didn’t trust her. He expected her to come at them any second, filled with rage, brandishing the branding iron and ready to stop both of them from leaving.

But she didn’t.

She just stood there, rocking back and forth.

As Sherrie completed removing the ropes from his right leg, John bent over the side of the mattress and slipped his hand underneath. He kept his eyes on Zoe still, just in case.

Don’t let her out of your sight.

But she wasn’t watching either of them.

Slowly, he ran his hand up and down the mattress.

Within seconds he felt the handle of the knife.

Yes!

He pulled it out from under the mattress and laid it on the quilt.

Sherrie’s eyes met his, and then slipped down to the knife. She looked puzzled.

“We may need this,” he said. “To get out safely.”

She nodded. Her eyes swept across his body and stopped momentarily at the claw marks on his chest and also at his bandaged cock.

“My God, John, what’s she
done
to you?”

“No time now,” he said as he swung his feet from the bed and onto the floor. “I’ll explain later. We’ve got to get out
now
.”

“Where are your clothes? You can’t go like this.”

John pointed across the church and past Zoe. “They’re in a cupboard behind that lectern.”

“I’ll get them,” Sherrie said and she went to walk away.

He reached out with his left hand and grabbed hers. Dull pain coursed through his arm.

“No,” he said, his eyes darting back to Zoe. “It’s too dangerous.”

And as he said the words, Zoe turned to look at him.

John felt a chill down his spine.

I knew it wouldn’t be that easy…

Zoe’s face was wet with tears, her mouth was down-turned and her bottom lip was quivering.

She went to say something, but nothing came out.

“Careful,” he whispered to Sherrie.

Sherrie’s head turned to face Zoe.

They all stared at each other.

No one moved.

“We can’t just stay here,” Sherrie replied.

“I know,” John replied. “But let’s take it slowly. We don’t know what she could do. She’s dangerous.”

“I know that,” Sherrie said, turning to face him and running a hand along the wound on his left arm. “Just look at the state you’re in.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” John replied. “Let’s get out of here first.”

He squeezed her hand.

Zoe took a step towards them.

John felt Sherrie’s hand tighten around his.

He found himself holding his breath, waiting for Zoe’s next move.

Play your hand…

But she just stood by the kitchen bench, her arms crossing her chest. She stared at them with a look of sadness on her face. Her head tilted to one side, as if she were deep in thought.

The pendant around Zoe’s neck glinted in the half-light.

Helen’s pendant.

Poor Helen…

His right hand moved up to the necklace around his neck. He held his half of the heart between his fingers for a few seconds. John’s eyes then slipped down to the diamond in her belly button.

You have to get out of here!

I know.

You have to make it to the door.

I know!

Well do it! You don’t want her hurting Sherrie, right?

Right.

Then GO!

John took a deep breath.

“Come on,” he said to Sherrie. “We have to make a move.”

Slowly, he stood up from the bed. His legs were wobbly at first, but he quickly steadied and took a small step forward.

Zoe stepped closer too; one step closer to the middle of the room. One step closer to blocking off their escape to the door.

John’s eyes darted to the windows. It was dark out now and no light was coming through. So dark. That would help them hide from her, cover them in the trees outside the church.

We just have to make it that far…

“Where’s your car?” John whispered to Sherrie.

 “At the end of the driveway,” Sherrie kept her eyes on Zoe. She squeezed his hand. “I walked the rest of the way. I didn’t know what to expect.”

John nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “We have to get out of here and then to the car.”

“You need clothes,” she replied. “It’s cold out there and you need to keep warm, especially for those wounds. You look like you’re near death.”

John turned to face her and he realised she was telling him the truth. After three days of bondage, he realised he must look as exhausted and drained as he felt. His wounds would certainly look bad to anyone who saw them.

Not a pretty sight, I’m sure.

“I’ll get them,” Sherrie continued.

“No!” John said, holding her hand firmly. “You don’t know what she’ll do.”

His eyes darted back to Zoe.

She stepped closer again. She was in the middle of the church now.

“We
can’t
stay here.” Sherrie replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “There’s only one of her and
two
of us! We have to make a move.”

She let go of his hand and turned to face him.

“Behind the lectern?” she asked.

He sighed and then nodded. “It’s locked though.”

“She has the key?” she asked.

John nodded again.

The key!

John’s eyes dropped to the ground.

Zoe’s jeans were piled on the ground next to where he was standing, along with her leather bondage outfit and handcuffs. And attached to the belt hook of the jeans was his key ring – and the keys.

“The keys,” he pointed them out to Sherrie. “They’re down here! One of the keys on this ring opens the cupboard!”

Zoe moved forward again, a puzzled expression on her face, her head tilting more.

John realised then she was trying to hear what they were saying.

“We have to move
fast
,” he whispered.

But he didn’t know what to do.

Or what Zoe would do.

He had a strange feeling that with every step Zoe took towards them, she was regaining her confidence. They had to do something quickly.

And before he had a chance to formulate any ideas, Sherrie had let go of his hand and bent down in front of him.

John kept his eyes on Zoe.

She stared back at him.

John could hear the clatter of the keys as Sherrie undid the key ring from Zoe’s jeans.

Within a few seconds, she was standing by him again.

“Can you keep her busy?” Sherrie asked.

John nodded.

With his right hand he picked up the knife from the quilt and held it out in Zoe’s direction.

“Stay where you are!” he called to her in a level tone.

Zoe’s head stopped tilting. Her eyes dropped to the knife. She seemed surprised. Her mouth opened once more, but she said nothing. She stood straight, didn’t move, and stared right back at him.

It looked as if she were about to cry again.

Don’t let her fool you again!

Remember what she’s done to you!

“I’ll get your clothes,” Sherrie said. “You make your way to the door.”

“
I’ll
get the clothes,” John replied. “If she tries anything, I’ll be able to handle her.”

Sherrie turned back to face him. “You’re in no condition to do anything except head for the door. I’ll get your clothes, you just make sure I have plenty of warning if she tries anything.”

“What if she attacks you?”

“I don’t think she will,” Sherrie replied. “Now let’s
do
this and get out of here!”

John nodded. There was no better plan.

He watched helplessly as Sherrie began walking around the railing and towards Zoe.

John’s eyes darted back to Zoe to watch for any signs that she might do something unexpected.

Of course she’s going to do something unexpected.

I have to stop her.

You can’t.

I have to protect Sherrie!

John continued to watch.

Sherrie walked closer to Zoe.

The silence in the church was overpowering. Although occasional gusts of wind blew outside, rattling through the old roof and interrupting the silence.

Emotions rolled across Zoe’s face.

I wish I knew what she was thinking.

Zoe’s eyes darted to Sherrie as she got closer.

John looked across to her, but all he could see was her long flowing brown hair. He couldn’t see her face as she walked away from him.

He looked back to Zoe.

Zoe was still looking at Sherrie.

Is that hate or terror in her eyes?

And then Zoe made a move.

John went to dart forward, but then stopped himself.

Zoe had taken a step backwards.

What?

As Sherrie approached, Zoe took a step back. She tried to half-smile, but it didn’t work.

And then John saw her mouth move.

She said something to Sherrie!

She whispered it and John had no hope of hearing it.