Unbroken (16 page)

In national news, California residents are breathing a collective sigh of relief this evening as two teenage girls, missing since early Friday morning, were found alive and well by a park ranger less than three miles from a popular hiking trail in the southeast corner of Kings Canyon National Park.  While the girls were found safe and unharmed, having become lost after wandering too far from the marked trail, the sudden disappearance of Morgan Keller and Lauren Bradstreet had many local residents fearing the worst and once again bringing to mind the reign of terror exacted by serial killer, Randall Littrell, nearly five years earlier.

Britney tensed, her entire body going rigid at the mention of Randall Littrell.  Then suddenly he was there, his cold dark eyes staring back at her from the depths of the massive, seventy-inch television screen.

Littrell, a day laborer, was responsible for the kidnapping and murder of at least a dozen young women, often abducting them in pairs, over a three-year time period.

In silent horror, Britney watched as a second photograph replaced Littrell’s.  It was her high school yearbook photo.  The same photo that had been shown on newscasts throughout the country along with Molly’s shortly after they had been abducted and then again after her escape.

Next to her, Jake slowly lowered the beer bottle from his lips and set it on the side table as his eyes narrowed, focusing on
the photo.  There were a few, subtle differences, but the resemblance between the girl on television and the young woman sitting next to him was unmistakable. 
No, surely it couldn’t be.
  He turned to Britney, sitting silent and unmoving just a few feet away.  She was staring straight ahead, her face devoid of all color. 

The brazen abductions spread fear and panic across his California hunting ground until Littrell’s sole-surviving victim, twenty-one-year-old Britney Ellison, bludgeoned her captor to death as she made her escape from his cabin of horrors in the isolated backwoods of Southern California.  Nevertheless, the disappearance of Keller and Bradstreet had many of the state’s residents on edge.

Britney didn’t hear anything after that as she sat motionless on the sofa, her eyes staring blankly at the screen.

“
Britney?”

She heard him, despite the
sudden roaring in her ears and slowly turned her head.

Jake didn’t need to ask
the question.  He could see it in her eyes.  Britney Ellison and Britney Taylor were one in the same.  His mind reeled in shock as he struggled to come to terms with the astonishing realization.  For a moment he was simply dumbfounded.  Like everyone else, he’d watched the news reports about the missing girls in California and remembered the ensuing media frenzy when one of Randall Littrell’s last victims managed to escape, killing the serial rapist and murderer in the process. It had continued to be a major headline for weeks afterward as she recovered from her injuries in a local hospital.  Then, after her release, reporters from all over the country had tried to get an interview with her, all without success.  And now here she was, sitting right next to him.  And he hadn’t even known it was her.  It was a lot to take in.

When he tried to speak the words seemed lodged in his throat.  He swallowed and tried again.  “Britney, I’m so sorry,” he
uttered.  “I had no idea.”

She merely nodded, waiting for the signs of pity, horror and even
revulsion to appear on Jake’s face.

I
t all made sense now, Jake thought to himself.  He’d had it wrong before.  The reluctance he’d noted during their meeting in Ian’s office and her subsequent reaction to the news that she would be staying at his cabin.  And then, her odd behavior on the plane and during the drive to Stanley, when she’d appeared anxious and frightened even.  He felt sick just thinking about it.  Oh man, the glasses, the hair, the nondescript clothing, his prior assumption had been completely off track.  Damn it, he wondered in the next second, how could McNealy have sent her here, knowing all that she’d been through?

Watching the changing emotions reflected on Jake’s face, Britney
was surprised by what she saw.  Instead of pity she saw compassion.  Instead of horror she saw understanding.  And then, instead of revulsion, she saw a spark of anger. She could almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he tried to make sense of it all. 

Jake
shook his head slowly from side to side.  “No wonder you didn’t want to come here.”

The
spark of anger, it wasn’t directed at Littrell, she realized; at least not entirely.  Clearly he thought that Ian had sent her here, knowing about her past.  “Ian doesn’t know,” she told him.

Jake looked at her in surprise.

“Aside from a handful of people, no one does.  I had my name and social security number legally changed before I moved to Minnesota,” she explained in a quiet voice.  “And with the help of my attorney, I managed to bury my past and create a new life for myself.”

“I see.”

Did he?
  “You must think I’m such a coward.”

“A coward?”  His tone was
incredulous.  “Britney, how could you possibly think that?” 

She shook her head silently as tears welled up in her eyes.

Jake stood up and moved to the sofa, sitting down beside her.  “My God, Britney,” he said, eyeing her intently.  “I think you must be the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

She looked at him in disbelief
.  She wasn’t brave, not at all.  Didn’t he understand?  She’d been hiding from the world for nearly five years.  “How can you possibly think that?”

“Because
you survived,” he said with conviction. “And because you’re
here
,” he continued, making a sweeping motion with his hand as his gaze swept the room.  “Hell, after all that you’ve been through, I can’t even imagine the kind of courage it must have taken for you to come here.”

“I was so scared,” she admitted, raising her
teary eyes once again to meet Jakes.  “But I had to do it.  I had to do it for Ian.  He’s my boss, but more importantly, he’s my friend.”

“I’m so sorry, Britney
,” Jake said once again, as guilt washed over him in waves.  If he’d just re-signed with the Blades as he intended to, Ian never would have asked her to come here.

“
Jake, no.”  She could see the guilt in his expression and shook her head.  “Please, don’t apologize.  You have
nothing
to be sorry for,” she assured him.  “I don’t regret coming here, not in the least.  In fact, coming to Stanley,
with you
, has been one of the best decisions I’ve made in a very long time.” 

“It has?”

She nodded, for the moment too choked up to speak.

Reaching out, Jake took
hold of Britney’s hand and held it in his own. 

F
or the next hour, they sat side by side on the sofa, just talking.

In the downstairs exercise room
, long after Britney had gone to her room for the night, Jake rose from the weight bench, grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his dripping torso as he headed for the door.  He needed a shower.

Upstairs in his room he walked into the bathroom and shucked his workout shorts, tossing them into the nearby hamper.  Turning the water on full blast, he stepped
into the large, walk-in shower.  Despite the punishing workout, he still felt a fierce, burning rage radiating throughout his body.  To think of Britney, that sweet, innocent young girl and to imagine what she had endured at the hands of that sadistic monster was beyond comprehension.  Bracing his hands against the wall, he bent his head and allowed the pulsing jets to pound against his shoulders, neck and back as he struggled to let go of his anger.  The one thing that consoled him was the knowledge that the sick bastard was already in his grave and that Britney had been the one to put him there.

Finishing his shower, he dried himself off as he walked back into the bedroom. 
Glancing toward the bed, he sighed in frustration.  He was too restless to sleep.  Walking naked toward the dresser that sat against the far wall, he grabbed a clean pair of shorts from the bottom drawer and pulled them on.  Maybe a glass of wine would help.  Hell, maybe an entire bottle, he thought as he turned and made his way out into the hall. 

Moving along the
darkened hallway, his bare feet trod soundlessly against the wooden floorboards.  He was almost to the stairs when a faint sound coming from the opposite end of the hall stopped him in his tracks.

Britney’s head tossed restlessly against the pillow, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as the nightmare held her in its unrelenting grasp.

“Eyes open!” he barked, his tone harsh and threatening as he turned his head toward Britney, regarding her with his cold, menacing stare.  

Molly, lying naked benea
th him, her hands bound, handcuffed to the metal headboard, whimpered in fear.

Britney flinched
.  Like Molly’s, her eyes were open.  He didn’t need to say it anymore.  She knew better than to close them.

Satisfied for the moment,
the monster nodded and then turned away, his attention focusing upon Molly once again.

Though she wanted desperately to block out the horr
ific sight in front of her, Britney knew what would happen if she dared to close her eyes or look away for even an instant.  Molly would suffer, even more than she was already suffering.  He wanted her to watch.  He’d made that exceedingly clear.  Her eyes flicked briefly toward the orange lighter and the unlit cigarette that rested in the brown glass ashtray and then back to ugly red burn marks on Molly’s arms.

Her limbs twitched beneath the quilt, her body trembling as she struggled to escape from the depths of the horrific nightmare, but wakefulness eluded her.  Instead, the haunting images merely morphed and shifted within her head, replaying even greater horrors.

“No!” She watched in escalating panic as his hands continued to tighten around Molly’s neck.  Her brown eyes were open wide, her lips parted as she gasped futilely for air.  “Stop!  Please, you’re killing her,” Britney cried out in desperation.  But he ignored her pleas, his eyes focused solely on Molly’s terror-stricken face, his expression reflecting a demented, hedonistic pleasure. 

Jake heard it again, a sound, no a cry, coming from the direction of Britney’s room.  Concerned, he strode swiftly down the hall, stopping just outside her door.  He knocked softly on the wooden panel.  “Britney?”  He got no response.

He knocked again.  “Britney, it
’s Jake.  Is everything alright?”  Once again he was met with silence.  “Brit-”

“No, please, please d
on’t!”

The frightened plea carried through the door and
out into the hall, nearly stopping Jake’s heart.  Grabbing the knob, he shoved the door open, his eyes frantically scanning the dark room for signs of an intruder.  There was no one there, only Britney, lying near the center of the bed amidst a tangle of bedding, her head thrashing back and forth atop her pillow. 

“No, please stop,” she whimpered, her hands grasping
helplessly at the bed sheets.

Hurrying toward the bed, he sat down on the edge
of the mattress next to her.  Her hair was damp with sweat, the blonde strands clinging to her forehead as she tossed back and forth.  He reached out and gently touched her shoulder.  “Britney, wake up.”  Her fingers tightened, grasping the cotton sheets into her fisted hands as she cried out, but the words were unintelligible. 

He gripped her shoulder, shaking her gently as he tried to rouse her.  “Britney,
its Jake.  You need to wake up!”

Britney’s eyes flew open, a strangled scream ripping from her throat as she raised her ha
nds to her chest in a defensive motion.

“Britney, it’s okay.  It’s
just me, it’s Jake.  You were having a nightmare,” he said gently, horrified by the absolute terror he saw reflected in her eyes.

“Jake?” Britney said, struggling to emerge from the depths of the nightmare.

“It’s just me,” he repeated softly.

“I was… he was…
” she stammered, as tears began to seep from the corners of her eyes.

“Sh
h, it’s okay, everything is going to be okay.”  His voice was calm and reassuring as he held her frightened gaze.

Britney
nodded. But then, a second later, she sat up and threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jake’s arm
s went around her instinctively.  She clung to him as he shifted her onto his lap, holding her close as the heartrending sobs wracked her body and her tears rolled slowly down his naked chest. If Randall Littrell wasn’t already dead, he would have gladly killed the son of a bitch himself, he thought, as he rested his head atop Britney’s, gently rocking her back and forth.