Trish, Just Trish (19 page)

Starla
.

I ran past Adam to the stable, I searched
every stall, but Trish wasn’t there. I caught one of the boys, but
he said he hadn’t seen her.

“Fuck!” I shouted in agony.

I ran back to the house, grabbed my keys and
shouted for Adam to drive one side of the property while I took the
other.

I got out my phone and called Sheriff
Thompson.

“Trish is missing! Start calling whoever you
gotta call and find her! Then get your ass to my house!” I’d known
the sheriff since I was a kid and he knew the deal with Zacharias.
He didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t find Trish anywhere, no sign of
her. I called every person I knew in town and told them to keep an
eye out for her. I hauled ass back to the house and found Adam,
Shane, Larry and two officers from the Sheriff’s department
there.

“How could you let this happen?” Adam
shouted as he charged for me. I didn’t even protect myself when his
fist connected with my face. Shane jumped in between just as I
prepared myself for another hit. I deserved it.

“I saw Bobbie Jo here!” I heard someone
shout from behind me and I turned. One of my workers ran up,
shouting, “I saw her truck! I didn’t think anything of it, but
Trish left with her.”

The minute this bitch drops her gun I’m
going to fucking kill her!

From the moment I opened Tony’s front door,
she’d pointed the damn thing at me and hadn’t taken it off me
since. It started out at pointed at my head, but now, it was shoved
in my back.

“Move!” she ordered me to, as I walked
through the poorly lit warehouse. It was empty as far as I could
tell and the smell was horrendous; like mold.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked softly
because I didn’t want to provoke her into shooting my ass. She
shoved the gun deeper into my back.

“Because I saw you. I saw the way he touched
you. You took something that I want and I’m about to get it
back.”

“What--” I started to ask, but was
interrupted by a masculine voice with a heavy Spanish accent.

“Took you long enough.” I froze. I heard
Zacharias’s voice and I turned. He looked extremely irritated as he
walked towards us. On instinct, I moved away from him, but he paid
me not attention. I twisted my neck and watched him rip the gun
from BJ’s hands. He hit her over the head with it.

“No!” I screamed when she fell to the floor.
I turned to run, but I didn’t make it far. His fingers tangled in
my hair when he caught me and he hauled me back. I twisted my body
and fought back with everything I had.

He can kill me, but I’m going down
without a fight
.

I clawed at his face, his eyes, but when the
barrel of the gun touched my temple that was all it took to make me
to stop.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched
my head back. I hissed in pain. I was shoved forward and directed
to small room at the back. Suddenly, my arms were lifted, I tried
to yank them away, but he was too strong. I heard the sound of
handcuffs clicking and then one wrist was enclosed tightly;
painfully. He twisted my other arm in the opposite direction, my
body jerked and then the cuff was enclosed around both wrists. Only
my toes and the balls of my feet touched the ground.

“I was going to make this quick, but I don’t
like you,” Zacharias hissed in my ear. “So, I’m going to play with
you,” he finished.

I lifted my head and said, “Fuck you,” as I
put all my weight on my wrists and kick him in the balls. I felt
the cold metal dig into my skin, but I pushed the pain out of my
mind.

He cursed, grabbed himself and spoke in
tongues… or Spanish, I couldn’t tell because I didn’t know what he
was saying. I wanted him to kill me. I didn’t know what he meant by
“play with you” but I’d die before I let him touch me.

He stood, reared back and punched me in the
stomach with every bit of strength he had before grating, “Wouldn’t
want to mess up this pretty face. I have plans for this mouth.” He
lifted my head; touched my lips with his thumb and left as I
wheezed.

I was sick. The vomit rose from my gut to my
throat. It wouldn’t be long before it came up completely.

It’d been over four hours since anyone last
saw Trish. Over seven hours since I last saw her… those big brown
eyes… her fuckin’ smile.

Seven… fuckin’… hours...

I ran to the side of the house, fell to my
knees and threw up until I dry heaved. I was fuckin’ sick. The pain
was agonizing. I could do nothing.

The things I said to her… the things I never
said... all the times she whispered, “I love you,” and I never
owned up like a fuckin’ man and said it back.

I couldn’t hold back my tears; my silent
sobs.

We’d searched this town upside down and
found no sign of her or Bobbie Jo…
who I was going to
slaughter
.

I’d still be searching for Trish had Sheriff
Johnson not called for a regroup, and I had to admit, I needed it.
I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t concentrate. I heard when
vehicles pulled up left and right and just as I lifted to walk back
around the side of the house, Lex’s red truck came to a stop in
front it.

I wiped the evidence of my meltdown from my
face as I walked to stand in front of the porch steps and waited.
Lex bawled as she jumped down. Her face was beat red. The sounds of
her sobs were stabs to my gut. When she saw me, she ran straight
for me and I braced. She managed to slap me twice before Landyn
caught her around the waist to pull her back.

He should’ve left her to kill me. I deserved
it.

“If they touch her, I’ll kill you,” she
cried, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adam headed our way.
“You just couldn’t stop hurting her could you… for something she
didn’t even do!” she shouted and I closed my eyes and took it,
begged or it.

“Trish was a virgin,” she said softly. My
eyes flew open. “She’d never been touched that way until you
touched her,” she hissed. I shook my head; not in disbelief, but
because I believed every fuckin’ word she said and I wanted them
all outta my head. Her words ripped me apart and I couldn’t take
anymore.

“She was almost raped when she was a little
girl… only nine years old. Her mother
hated
her and
left
her in the care of a rapist! She still has nightmares!”
she choked out through a sob. I shook my head again. I had to clear
it. I was desperate for her to stop.

“I think you should be the one to call her
father and tell him that his only daughter is missing. Tell him
that the daughter he watched suffer at the hands of a mother who
abused her is
gone
! Her father fought for her. No judge
would take Trish away from her mother because she was a good
actress. Not until she left Trish in the hands of a rapist did they
give Mr. Kincaid custody.”

“Stop,” I whispered as I fisted the necklace
I’d ripped from mi reina’s neck in my pocket.

“Adam told me what you said to her… during
your fight… that you wished her dead! Call her father and tell him
that! Tell him you’re a piece of shit coward! Tell him what you did
to her!”

“Baby.” I heard Landyn say in pained voice,
but she wasn’t having any of him either.

“Let go of me,” she demanded and pushed out
of Landyn’s hold to storm away.

I can’t feel my hand
.

My wrists felt raw and when I looked up,
they were bleeding. My arms were numb, every muscle in my legs
throbbed and the arches of my feet cramped because I’ve had to
alternate my weight between my feet and wrists.

And every time I heard one of Bobbie Jo’s
screams, I’d struggle against the cuffs, which made the pain
worse.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Zacharias chirped when
he walked through the door. He dragged a naked, unresponsive Bobbie
Jo behind him. She’d clearly been beaten more… and god only knew
what else.

“What did you do to her?” I whispered. He
laughed as he passed me, and I couldn’t see him anymore, but I
heard him drop Bobbie Jo’s body.

Then, he was in front of me.

He pulled out a knife and cut up the middle
of my shirt, but I fought and kicked and screamed.

“Just kill me!” I shouted, but I stopped
fighting the second he pressed the knife against my throat hard
enough to break the skin. I closed my eyes through the burning
sensation and he pressed harder, slowly dragging the knife toward
the center of my throat.

Just when I thought he’d finish the job, I
heard someone shout in Spanish from outside the room. Zacharias
backed away with fear in his eyes, dropped the knife and ran out of
the room. I cried, my body quaked and I felt blood trickle down the
side of neck.

The shouting grew louder… louder and then
gun shots rang out. I jerked.

Then silence.

I didn’t move a muscle until I saw movement
at the door. A man, a new man, someone I didn’t recognize, walked
through the door.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I begged softly
through my tears. He started mumbling in Spanish, his movements
anxious as he headed straight for me.

“No!” I cried and tried to kick out, but I
was too weak. “Please don’t hurt me,” I begged again, just as he
made it to me.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said in a
heavy accent. He lifted his arms, unlocked the cuffs on my wrists
and caught me before I fell to the ground. He picked me up and
cradled me to his chest.

“Keep your eyes closed until we’re outside,”
he ordered.

I did what he said.

I didn’t open them until he sat me on the
ground and I felt what I thought was grass beneath my back. I must
have been inside longer than I thought because it was dark now, but
the moon was so bright, I could see perfectly.

I looked at the man that still hovered over
me and he cursed violently when his eyes set on my neck. He ripped
off a piece of my already torn shirt, held it to the cut, grabbed
my hand, placed it over his as he slid his out. I never took my
eyes off his face.

His bright hazel eyes hit mine. There was no
mistaking their color against his dark olive skin. “You never saw
me. This,” he held up a cell phone, “is your friend’s from inside.
Call for help, but do not go back inside, do you understand?” I
swallowed deeply and nodded, but winced at the pain. Hazel eyes let
out a string of Spanish words and they all sounded bad.

“You tell them Old River Warehouse. They’ll
know where you are.”

“Okay,” I whispered, as I stared at him. He
grabbed my unoccupied hand and placed the phone inside. He stood,
looked down at me and said, “Zacharias is dead inside. Remember,
you never saw me.”

He disappeared.

I looked at BJ’s phone, fought to keep my
hand steady enough to find the number in her contact list and hit
send.

“Where the fuck is she?” I barked into the
phone when I saw Bobbie Jo’s name flash across the screen. Fifteen
fuckin’ hours worried about Trish was making me lose my mind. Every
muscle in my body strained and I only wished Bobbie Jo were in
front of me so I could strangle her.

“Tony,” I heard whispered.

I froze.

“Mi reina, are you all right? Where are
you?” I asked frantically as I took off in a sprint to my
truck.

“Old River Warehouse. Please send somebody,”
she whispered and I twisted my neck and shouted her location to
every person standing in the vicinity. I jumped in my truck,
started it and sped toward my fuckin’ heart. She was forty-five
minutes away, but I’d get to her in twenty.

“Preciosa, are you okay?” I asked. When I
didn’t get an immediate response I bellowed, “Trish!”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can barely
hold the phone. I can barely feel my hands and my neck is bleeding.
Please send someone for me.”

“I’m on my way. Just stay on the phone. Are
you alone?”

“I think so.”

“Is Bobbie Jo with you?”

Silence for a beat and then, “She’s still
inside.”

“And you’re outside?”

“Yes… I hear sirens,” she whispered.

“That’s because Sheriff Johnson, Lex,
Landyn, Adam and half the town of Centerville are following me. I’m
sure one of them put in a call.”

Silence.

“Trish,” I said to make sure she was still
there.

“Sorry. The sirens are getting closer. I
won’t keep you on the phone,” she whispered.

“Trish, don’t hang up on me,” I ordered, but
she did.

“Fuck,” I roared. I tried calling Bobbie
Jo’s number back twenty times, but Trish wouldn’t answer. She had
no reason to answer. I not only destroyed her, but could have
gotten her killed. I didn’t even know if she was hurt.

I had now right to see her, but there was no
fuckin’ way I’d stay away.

“Hey,” I mumbled the second Lex walked
through the door.

I sighed.

I wanted to get the hell out of here. I
hated hospitals and I hated the smell of disinfectant. After having
my neck stitched, my wrists bandaged and being questioned by the
police, it was four in the morning. I was exhausted and I was dying
for a shower.

Fortunately, the feeling came back to my
arms, hands, legs and feet, but not-so-fortunately, the tingling
and cramping was horrendous and made me cry. I preferred the
numbness over the pain.

Lex didn’t say anything as she walked toward
me, but at her first glimpse of the bandage on my neck, the tears
rained down her face.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

“You could have died, T,” she cried and my
hand automatically flew to the bandage that covered the stitches on
the side of my neck. I closed my eyes and thought about the scar
I’d have there. I didn’t care about vanity, but I didn’t want the
reminder. I didn’t even know how big the cut was; it wasn’t like
the nurses handed out mirrors instead of medicine in this
place.