Next August (16 page)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Nashville

My head is throbbing. I’m freezing. The air around me is heavy and musty. It makes my stomach turn, but I wonder if my nausea is related to the blow I took to my head. My right eye is swollen shut, and the coppery taste of blood is in the back of my throat. I can tell I’m bound with some kind of rope, so I can’t move. It’s dark. I kick my legs and hit solid walls. Maybe I’m in a closet.

I have no idea how long I’ve been in here. I can’t see the walls, but it feels like they’re closing in on me. I think about Tom, and I’m sure he’s dead. Tears well up in my eyes, and I struggle with the ropes.

I rub my face against my bent knees. Falling apart isn’t going to help the situation. I have to calm down and think. The crack under the door fills with light, and the door opens. At first, I can’t see. My right eye is swollen shut, and my left eye doesn’t have time to adjust to the light. Someone roughly tugs me to my feet, and half drags me to a wooden chair. I blink, and the world comes into focus. I stare into the man’s face. His same angry, beady blue eyes. He’s still wearing the same black clothes. I’m sure they’re splattered in Tom’s blood, but it doesn’t show up. Not like it did on the white sheets. That image will haunt my nightmares.

“Who are you?” I ask. It’s a croak, from thirst and lack of use of my voice.

He places a water bottle to my lips.” Drink.”

I hate doing what he says, but my body needs fluids. I gulp down water until he jerks the bottle away from me. Water dribbles down my chin. My shirt is soaked.
What a waste
, I think.

“Who are you? I ask again.

“Tom Rylan killed my son. My son, Luke. Tom was on a drunken binge when my son’s car went over that bridge.” He has tears in his eyes.

I don’t dare tell him that’s not the story that I was told.” I’m sorry you lost your son.”

“August Rylan was never sorry. All he did was lie. He hid his father all these years. Neither of them ever faced what they did.”

“You have your revenge. Tom is dead. What do you want from me?” My voice is strong, but I’m trying not to cry.

He runs his hand down my cheek, and my stomach turns.

“You’re an unexpected bonus. I’ve been watching you.” He stands behind me and presses himself against me. “I especially enjoyed the pool night. You have a remarkable body.” He runs his lips along my ear.

I focus on my breathing to keep from gagging.

“I’m sure it would kill him to know that I touched you. Pretty boy Rylan’s cute little toy.”

“Keep your fucking hands off of me!” I squirm, and the chair almost tips over.

He reappears in front of me.” You seem to be forgetting who is in control here.”

I bite my tongue to keep from antagonizing him.

“Do you know he thought he could pay me off? After I sent him the pictures of you and your friend naked in the pool, he sent me a check for five million dollars. A few years ago I probably would have taken his money, but it’s too late for that now. I know I can hurt him more by revealing him for the slime ball he is. His reputation will be as bad as his father’s. Probably worse. Pretty boy will be penniless.”

He leans down to untie my legs.” I
am
curious. Which will cause him more pain? Losing his livelihood, or his woman?” He smiles.

“I’m not his girlfriend. I was leaving him. I caught him in one of his lies. One of many. Killing me might wound his pride, but he only truly cares about his money.” I try to sound like I mean it. Deep down, August would go off the deep end if I died.

I pull at the bonds on my wrists. The rope gives a little. The creepy man in black unwinds the rope from around my legs. His hands slide up and down my calf. There’s a gruesome smile on his lips, and I know he’s enjoying torturing me. My skin is crawling at his touch. I can’t help it, my stomach leaps into my throat. He jumps away from me when I start retching. I gasp, trying to get control of my body. I spit on the floor in front of me.

He brings me a towel from the cabinet across the room. My eyes dart around the dark space. Dilapidated stairs lead up to a door. I’m in a basement. Tools hang off a peg board in the far corner of the room. The whole place is dimly lit by a single lightbulb. Exposed wires and pipes run the length of the ceiling, and an ancient hot water heater huddles in the corner. There’s no other furniture, and the cement floors are bare.

He drops the towel in my lap, almost as a joke, since my hands are tied and I can’t do anything about it. He doesn’t say anything as he climbs the rickety stairs. He flicks off the light before he shuts the door. I’m in darkness again, save for the thin stream of light that slips under the basement door.

My thoughts go to August. My last words with him were harsh, and so were his to me, but I know he loves me. He must be frantic, trying to find me. Still, I can’t wait on him. If I am going to survive, I’m going to have to save myself.

It takes at least an hour, but finally, through careful maneuvering, my hands are free. I rub the rope burn on my wrists and remember the layout of the room. I don’t want to make any sudden moves and run into anything. I run my hands down the cold, dark walls until I hit the tools. I feel for the ax. It’s heavy in my hands, but reassuringly so.

I curl up into a ball behind the stairs, so he won’t be able to see me when he comes back. My breath comes in quick, anxious puffs, and I’m sure if there was enough light, I could see it in a fine mist around my face.

I am at this man’s mercy. All I can do now is wait. I wonder where August is, and if he’s making any headway in finding me. Despite our fighting, I love that fucked up man. He owns my heart, but my head is telling me I can’t live in his world. I’d never ask him to give it up. He might be afraid he’ll lose everything, but he’s too smart and hard working for that. And besides, since he’s taken over Rylan Designs, he’s maintained a pristine relationship with everyone involved in the company, and done so much good for the communities where he lives. He’s a good, kind man. He’s the product of his own tragedies like we all are. I wish he and Tom could have made amends. Still, no matter how much I love him and how good he is, this fancy, flashy, complicated life just isn’t natural to me. I can’t live like this forever.
Right now, I don’t know if I’ll even survive the night.

Footsteps cross the floor above me, and the door creaks. I stand and brace myself. I grip the ax as if it’s a baseball bat. Despite the cold, I’m sweating. The light comes on when the man in black is halfway down the stairs. He pauses, obviously confused when he sees the empty chair, and I swing. The ax hits his leg with a sickening thud that comes from hitting soft flesh and then meeting hard bone. He stumbles down the rest of the steps and lands on the concrete in a puddle of flailing arms and legs and splattering blood.

“You bitch!” He grips his leg. His shin is gushing blood through his ripped up black pants. I scurry around him, but he grabs my leg. I trip and drop the ax. I kick him once, twice, three times, and on the third blow, I connect with his chin. I scramble to my feet, run up the stairs, through the cabin’s single room, and out the door.

It’s almost dark out. Evening. It’s just going to get darker, and all I can see around me is a dirt road lined with thick forest. I run to the car parked in the grass, but it is locked. Shit. If I stay on the dirt road he will find me.

I hear him yelling.” I am going to fucking kill you!” I take off running for the woods, but its hard to see where I’m going. It’s getting darker by the second, and one of my eyes is out of commission. I hold my arms in front of me, trying to push the branches out of my way, least one poke me in my left eye and render me totally blind.

If I’m looking ahead I’m not looking down, and that spells disaster. I trip, maybe on a root, and plunge over the side of an embankment. My body gets another shock as cold water rushes over me. I’ve landed in some kind of river. I struggle to the surface and fight to keep my head above the rapids. It’s all I can do to stay alive, but I take comfort in the fact that I can no longer hear the man in black screaming.

CHAPTER TWENTY

August

Wayne shines his light in the direction of the cabin. It’s a ramshackle wood plank building with a skinny chimney. The front door is wide open and the lights are on inside.” Stay low but be ready,” Wayne says.

We walk past a parked car, some kind of older sedan. I shine my light in the back seat, and it’s empty. My gun is cocked and ready as we clip across the gravel driveway. A light breeze blows leaves around our feet in the gathering darkness. We both pause as we step onto the rickety porch. The steps squeal beneath us, and I’m sure anyone inside this tiny place can hear us coming.

“Let’s just go in,” Wayne whispers. “Quickly.”

My heart is pounding; I’m expecting a confrontation, but the cabin is empty. Ratty old furniture, a worn blanket, a few bags of chips and a half eaten Subway sandwich. Beers cans. And old Playboy pinup on the wall above a rusty stove. And more sinister—there are stains on the wooden floor. They look like blood. And it’s not quite dried, so unless the occupant of this place likes to skin and butcher his deer right here in his little living room, I suspect that’s human blood. We creep down the basement stairs. More blood, and in the middle of the room: a wooden chair covered in coils of rope. The bastard tied her up. Wayne opens a closet door, and for a moment I’m terrified of what he’ll find. I’m relieved when the closet turns out to be empty.

“It’s hard to see down here,” I say, peering into the gloom. “Are there any more lights?” My foot strikes something hard. I look down, and to my shock, it’s a bloody ax. “Oh my God. Nash.”

Wayne rests a hand on my shoulder.” Don’t jump to conclusions yet, August. She may have broken free and used it on him. We need to keep looking for her.”

I want to sit on the floor and cry, but I know that won’t do Nash any good. I rub my eyes. “We need to call the police now. We need some help.”

“No service out here.”

“Keep trying while we search for her.”

We search the rest of the cabin but come up with nothing. Wayne points to the trail of blood on the floor.” I hate to say it, sir, with this much blood, I bet there’s a trail we can follow outside, too.”

We follow the splashes of blood. By flashlight, it looks dark brown, almost coppery. I wish I had a thicker coat. If Nash is out here, she has to be freezing. Guilt washes over me. My last words to her were so harsh. What if those really were our last words? I can’t let myself think that way.
She’s out here. Somewhere. She’s hiding.

The trail of blood stops abruptly at a steep embankment. I shine my light down the hill, and the leaves and dirt are churned up. It’s possible someone slid down into the river.

The river. It’s not that wide, but it’s flowing fast, and I know it will be freezing. It’s basically just melted snow coming down the mountain.

A human figure is wandering around the small rocky beach at the river’s bend.” Nash?” I stumble down the bank myself, running along an old log, so I avoid landing in the river. I jump onto the beach. Sand and gravel spray up around me. I already can tell it’s not Nash. The person in front of me is too big and bulky.

“Where is she?”

“I’m sure she’s dead by now.” The kidnapper laughs. He slaps his hands on his thighs. It’s all hilarious to him.
He’s insane.

I place the pistol to his forehead and he stops laughing. He holds up his hands. Wayne grabs my arm.” Don’t do it, August. If you kill him, he can’t rot in jail.”

I step back but keep the gun trained on his face. Wayne checks his phone.” I have service here.” He gives the dispatcher our location and asks for additional help with the search.

“You stay with this wacko,” I say.” Nash is a smart girl. She would head downstream to get off this mountain. I don’t want you to leave his side until he’s cuffed and in the back of an ambulance.”

The kidnapper is sitting on the beach. He’s rocking, and talking to himself. There’s a dirty rag tied around his leg.” She did this to me!”

Good girl.” You are lucky she didn’t do more damage. I would have killed you on the spot.” He kicks at me with his good leg. That’s the last straw for me. I punch him square in the jaw, and he’s knocked out cold.

Wayne chuckles.” Nice left you have there.”

“I would love to stay here and beat the shit out of him, but I need to find Nash.”

I walk along the embankment. It’s so steep. The little beach is an anomaly. In most places, you’d either be on the embankment, or in water over your head. I call out for her. The whitewater is loud, but I’m louder. I walk for about twenty minutes. I’m grateful that the clouds have broken, and the moon is almost full. It provides light beyond the narrow beam of my flashlight.

I’m starting to panic. Time is clipping on, and I know that if she’s out here, she’s close to freezing to death. I stop and scream her name.

Something in the water is moving, and it’s not just the rapids themselves. There’s a flash of yellow.

Nash is clinging to a rock in the river. She’s half in, half out of the water, and her yellow tee shirt is plastered to her skin.

I don’t pause for a second. I jump into the water. It’s so cold, my breath explodes out of my mouth as if my lungs themselves are protesting. I fight my way across the river. My feet can just touch the bottom in some places, so I have some control. Nash wouldn’t have the same advantage—she’s too short.

I reach her and wrap my arms around her. She’s breathing, but she’s not conscious. I drape myself over her, whispering, trying to warm her up with my own body heat.

It takes a few minutes, but she finally stirs. The color is returning to her lips.” August,” she says, faintly.” You came.”

“I’ll always come for you.”

“You were so angry with me.”

My heart hurts at her words. “I’m so sorry, baby. I had no right to be angry with you.” I kiss her lips lightly.

“Tom?”

I clench my eyes tight.” He’s gone.”

She bites her lip, and I think she might start crying, but we have to focus on the task at hand.” Don’t think about him right now. I have to get you out of here.” I need to get her back to the spot where I left Wayne. The police should be here by now.

The fight back across the river is exhausting, but we make it. Nash clings to my back. I choke and sputter my way through the rapids. My head is under water some of the time, but I make sure she stays above the rustling waves. Once we get up the embankment, I set her down for a moment to get my breath.

She sees how winded I am. “Let me walk.”

“No. You’re not strong enough.”

“If you try to carry me along this embankment, and slip, we’ll both go over the side.” She gives me a tired smile. “Then you would have rescued me for nothing.”

I pull her to her feet. “You make a good point, but you rescued yourself, Nash. I just came along at the end.”

She is a little off balance, but she’s right. It’s easier to steady her than carry her. We lean on each other as we pick the safest path along the riverside.
This is how it should be, always,
I think.
Me and Nash, leaning on each other.

☀

I see blue lights flashing up in the distance.” Wayne!” I yell. A beam of light from his flashlight hits me square in the face, blinding me. “Whoa,” I say, as I stumble. I shake my head to clear my eyesight. Nash cries out in pain, and I’m reminded of her terribly injured eye. “Hey! The light. Get it out of our faces for now.” I take her hand. “I got you, baby. Let me lead you.”

There’s a chopper spinning around above us.

“They already took the kidnapper,” says Wayne. “He’s cuffed and secure. You two go ahead. I’ll take the car back.”

The chopper lowers a basket and hoists Nash to safety. Once she’s inside, I follow her. I watch the river below me and think about how close she came to dying. At the hands of a lunatic, and at the mercy of nature. I shiver. I’ve learned a lesson. I’ll never take her for granted again. I’ll never speak to her like that, or allow petty arguments to separate us. I think of my father, now dead and gone. Never a chance to tell him how I really felt. Old hurts, old anger, kept us apart.

That will never happen between me and Nash. Never.

☀

They check me out at the hospital, but I’m impatient. I know there’s nothing wrong with me. Once they agree with me, they let me stay in Nash’s room. Fred brings me some clothes, and Wayne is the one who goes to the police station to give the initial statement. The police agree to let me come in another day. I want to be here when Nash wakes up. The nurse brought me a pillow, so I dragged two chairs together and I’m trying to find a way to get comfortable. The yellow plastic cushions sure aren’t as cozy as my ten-thousand-dollar mattress back home.

The nurse peeks in on us.” Can I get you a cup of coffee, Mr. Rylan?”

“That would be great thanks.” I scruff my hand across my rough face. I’m gripping Nash’s hand under the bedrail. My arm is falling asleep.

“August.” Her hand moves in mine, and I forget the pins and needles.
“Hey, beautiful.” I sit up straight.

“You must be blind.”

“Your baby blue eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve seen in days.” I kiss her nose. “Or, the baby blue of one of them. Haven’t seen that one yet.” I smile and point at her right eye. It’s covered in a patch.

“Is it over? Is he dead?”

“It is over, but he’s here in the hospital. He needed surgery from the blow you gave him.” I feel her tense.” Don’t worry. He’s handcuffed to a bed, under armed guard. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I thought he was going to kill me.” She chokes on her tears.

“I promise it’s over.” I hold her to me as she cries. It’s hard, with the stupid bedrail in between us and the awkward yellow chairs, but I do my best, and her sobs slowly taper off.

The nurse interrupts with the coffee.” She’s awake! I’ll give you a minute, then I’ll be back with the doctor.”

“How is my eye?” Nash asks.

“It looks pretty bad, but the doctor said there’s no permanent damage. You got six stitches in your chin. I’m just thankful that the majority of the blood trail was his, and not yours. I was scared to death when I saw the amount of blood in that basement. You did good, baby.”

“I was so scared.”

“I was, too.”

She starts to cry again.” I’m sorry I couldn’t save your father.”

“I saw how hard you tried.”

“He tried to save me, too. I know you don’t believe me. About him being able to communicate. But he rolled off the bed, right onto that lunatic. I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did without Tom’s help.”

I reach in my pants pocket.” I know he did what he could.” I hand her the bracelet. “He found a way to let me know that you were gone. For that, I’m very grateful.”

The nurse and doctor ask me to step outside while he examines Nash. I have some time to kill, so I pay a visit to the kidnapper. The murderer. The lunatic who tried to turn our lives upside down. The guard stands as I enter the room.

“What the fuck do you want?” The crazy man glares at me and tugs at his cuffs.

“Walt.” I spit out his name. He freezes. Maybe he didn’t realize I knew his name. He’ll always be the murderer, lunatic, kidnapper, to me, but he’s Walter Palmer to the rest of the world.” For once, you are going to shut your damn mouth and listen to me. My father was a lot of things, but he did not kill your son. The night of your son’s accident my father was parked off the side of the road. Yes, he had been drinking, but he had enough sense to pull over. Your son, on the other hand, was wasted. The report shows he was high on heroin. He fell asleep at the wheel and swerved off the road. He hit my father’s car and went over the embankment into the water.”

“That’s not true. He wasn’t on drugs.”

“I did some digging. You had that bit of information buried. Your son’s history of drug addiction. In and out of rehab, right?”

Walt glares at me but says nothing.

“You wanted to blame someone, so you found out my dad’s history, and then you came after him, and came after me. You didn’t leave me a lot of choices. I had to protect what was left of his reputation and I wasn’t about to let you drag me down with him.” I walk over to the rail of his bed.” Despite what you’ve tried to do to me and the people I love, I’m still sorry about the loss of your son. Still, you killing my father and kidnapping my girlfriend is unforgivable. I feel sorry for you. I’ve made bad choices out of desperation. To cover for someone that I loved. I’ll pay the consequences for my actions, whatever they may be. You’ll lose your freedom for yours.” I hear him crying as I leave his room.

I stop in the bathroom and wash my face before returning to Nash. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking into the face of a man that is unsure of himself. My financial future is on the line. I still have to go to the morgue to get my father’s body released.

I wash my face a second time as if I can erase the haggard, anxious reflection in front of me. It doesn’t work, so I towel off and return to Nash’s room.