Page 67 of Serial Love

The trees on either side of the road became flashes of fall colors all swimming in front of her eyes. The sunlight beating down seemed too bright, causing her to squint.Got to get away. Just keep going,her muddled mind screamed.

A sound ahead had her stopping in the middle of the drive. Hearing the noise of an automobile, she froze, her disoriented mind unable to ascertain from which direction it came. Turning too quickly, she slid down the gravel drive’s edge, rolling and tumbling into a small ravine. Thorns and underbrush tore at her clothing, scraping her limbs until she finally came to a stop at the bottom. Covered in leaves and dirt, she lay exhausted, praying that she was hidden from whatever terrors might come.

Making the thirty-minute drive in only fifteen minutes, the men coordinated their assignments while en route. Jack drew on his Special Forces training to slow his heart rate and focus on the mission at hand but found the task almost impossible.

Monty’s voice came through the earpieces, “ETA for FBI is ten more minutes.”

“Not waiting,” Jack growled, his body moving with the speeding vehicle driven by Bart as they took the country curves at a speed much too fast for ordinary drivers.

Pulling to a stop just down the drive from the property’s windowless structure deep in the woods, they alighted, immediately circling. The car sitting outside curled Jack’s stomach.I saw that car driving around whenever Taylor’s family was at Mountville. I was so close to the killer and never fuckin’ knew it.

“Boss,” Blaise said, causing Jack to jerk his head toward the left. “Get it out of your head. Not going to help her now.”

Sucking in a huge breath to clear his mind, Jack nodded.Time to go down, asshole.

Approaching the door, Chad was prepared to blast it open when they saw that it was slightly ajar, allowing Jack and Bart to storm in first. Jack’s gaze looked for Bethany, his stomach lurching as he saw the blood-stained table and gruesome photographs on the wall. But no Bethany.

Bart ran to Stanley, beginning to stir on the floor near chains connected to the wall. Seeing the chloroform rag next to his face, he barked out, “She must have turned this on him. She’s out.”

Blaise and Chad entered as Jack stomped over to Stanley and picked him up with one arm. “Where the hell is she?” he roared.

Just then the area was swarming with FBI as Monty led them to the hideaway of death. Chad caught Jack’s arm as it was swinging toward Stan’s face.

“The knife,” Chad yelled, catching Jack’s attention. “There’s no blood on it. Swear to God, Jack, I think she escaped.”

Blaise quickly said into his radio, “Luke, find herwith the tracer. We’re at the location. Got Stan but Bethany’s not here.”

Luke’s answer had Jack and the Saints pounding out of the structure, leaving it to the FBI as they ran back down the drive. Looking side to side as he ran, Jack noticed broken branches in the gorse. “Here,” he shouted.

Moving off the gravel drive, he fought his way past the brambles, seeing a torn piece of cloth clinging to a thorn bush. He heard another Saint behind him and called out, “She’s been here,” knowing his men would be following.

Pushing past the last of the brambles along the steep slope, he saw movement in the underbrush down by the ravine. Just as he slid to a stop, shouting her name, Bethany’s scratched face peeked out from the brambles. Dazed and confused…but beautiful.

Charging into the ditch, he slid down beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Jesus, Jesus, thank Jesus,” he said over and over, his chest near to bursting.

“Jack?” her weak voice said, as she buried her face in his neck, her good arm clawing to find its way around him as she held her injured arm close to her body.

“I’m here, beautiful. I’ve got you.”

Hearing noises beside them, he did not have to look to know his men were circling around to assist. Feeling hands help them up, he turned as Blaise said, “Jack, get her up to the road and let me check her out.”

Nodding, Jack stood with her in his arms, allowing the men to get them to the road. Kneeling with her in his embrace, he realized his body was shaking. Notknowing what horrors she had faced before escaping, he warred with wanting to talk to her and simply wanting her to never think of it again.

Bethany’s slightly dilated eyes took in the men around her as Jack held her tightly. “I’m…I’m okay,” she stammered.

Blaise gently wiped her scratched face and arms, noting her clothing was intact and there were only slight bruises on her neck. Her wrist seemed to have suffered the most injury as it was swollen, abraded and bleeding from the metal cuff.

Blaise opened his backpack and pulled out the makings for an emergency splint, quickly binding her wrist.

His eyes met Jack’s and he gave an imperceptible nod, Jack’s breath letting out slowly. Monty came running down the drive, having informed the FBI of her whereabouts.

Several ambulances pulled into the drive, one stopping at the group. Jack placed Bethany on the stretcher against her protests.

“Babe, not taking a chance. I want you seen,” Jack ordered gently.

Still clutching at his shoulders, she peered into his face, fear written on her expression. “Don’t leave me!”

Touching his lips to her forehead, he nodded. “I’ll be with you always, beautiful.”

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