Page 106 of Run For Me
I hope she’s suffering. I hope she’s panicking. I want nothing more than the last moments of her life to be terrible. She doesn’t deserve a single good moment after what she did to my girl. I’m going to make sure she, and anyone else involved, pays in the worst way possible. For her? That means throwing her off the bluffs alive. I’ll toss her off and make sure she hits every damn rock on the way down. Fuck her.
The house is set back on a large piece of land, surrounded by tall trees. I pull my car over on the side of the road, get out, and cut through the trees to get to the house. There is still plenty of light left in the day, and when I run across the open area and reach the house, I move to the back. I have to be careful because I have no idea how many people are here and if they’re armed.
There is one car sitting in front of the house. I don’t recognize it. It’s not Mindy’s and not my mother’s. Maybe the meathead who is helping Mindy. I wonder if I can get the whole car off the cliff with him in it.
Right now, my priority is Sailor. Dealing with everyone else will have to wait. Her safety is first. And they better hope she’s safe or they’re really going to pay. Thinking about them hurting even one hair on her head has me blind with rage, an anger I’ve never felt before.
I didn’t think it was possible to care about someone the way I care about Sailor. At first, it was curiosity and interest. That turned into intrigue and then obsession. I had to have her, see her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
But then… she saw me for who I was. She looked at me, and I looked into those eyes and I was fucking gone. I knew, right then, she was all I would ever need. Spending the night with her as a “normal” couple changed more than I thought possible. I assumed once she saw who I was, everything would stay the same, but somehow it’s evolved into something more, something bigger, something I am not willing to lose.
I will die before I let anything happen to Sailor, and I will take down anyone who gets in my way. I don’t give a fuck who they are.
I raise my foot to kick the back door in but hesitate. Kicking a door down is loud. People inside could have guns. It’s best I go in armed. But with what? I don’t have a fucking gun, not here and not at home. Never thought it was something I needed, but I guess I was wrong.
I glance around the back of the house for something I can use to defend myself. I find a 2x4 with a few nails sticking out of it. It’ll have to do. Not that it’ll help me against a gun, but it’s better than nothing.
Once I’m armed with the wood, I kick the door in and press my back to the wall. I’m met with silence for only a few seconds before footsteps sound from somewhere in the house—I should have looked at blueprints before coming in here. That was stupid, especially since I’m certain Orville could have pulled them up, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Hell, I’m still barely doing that. My brain is working like a caveman’s. All I have on my mind is Sailor. I’ll kill anyone who was standing between her and me; I don’t give a fuck who they are or what it takes.
Voices whisper down the hall, so quietly I can’t make out what is being said. I glance around, trying to figure out my best plan of action. I don’t know this house and I don’t know where Sailor is, if she’s here at all. There could have been a change of plan, or this was just a way of getting me to come here. For all I know, the people in this house are crackhead squatters.
Whatever I’m about to walk into, I’m ready for it, though. My heart is pounding. Adrenaline coursing through my veins. I am so fucking ready to rescue my little dove.
The floor is littered with trash, the kitchen counters covered too. I scan my surroundings, hoping there will be a knife, but I don’t find one. What I do find is a hand-sized piece of a cinder block. I walk to it quietly and grab it, then whip it down the hall. It lands at the end, just before an open door, and rolls the rest of the way. Someone lunges out of the room, swinging a bat. A fucking bat. He’s a big guy, but his movements aren’t smooth. He looks like a fucking idiot. The fucking idiot that was inside Sailor’s house.
When his eyes lock onto mine, they widen before filling with anger. I’m assuming this guy isn’t a professional. He doesn’t even have a gun. Likely, this is some idiot she pulled off the street, meaning whatever her reasoning for doing this isn’t important. It also means I can take this guy, and I plan to—without hesitation. I grip the wood tighter, straighten my back,and walk toward him with the most confidence I’ve ever had in my life.
“Stay the fuck back!” he shouts as he takes a slow step backward, holding out the bat.
“What the fuck is going on?” someone hisses from the other room. A voice I’d recognize anywhere.
I grip the wood with two hands, storming toward this guy, ready to tear him apart with my bare hands if necessary.
“I said stay the fuck back!” he shouts, holding the bat higher and moving further away. He hits the wall, jerking away from it as if he just walked into a trap. I swing the wood, getting him right in the knee with one of the jagged, rusty nails.
He cries out, heavy body crumpling to the ground. The bat falls from his hand, hitting the ground with a sharp crack and rolling into the other room. I slam the 2x4 onto his leg again, hitting it and the floor, snapping it in half. Such a shame. I wanted to do more damage, but it’s best I keep him alive so I can enjoy killing him later. Besides, I may need info from him. I still don’t know if Sailor is here.
He’s sobbing on the floor like a little bitch, hands covering his bloody knee, as I turn to grab the bat. I’m not done with this piece of shit. Not until I see Mindy standing across the room, holding the bat with shaking hands as if she’s going to do something.
“Don’t act like you’re tough,” I say, stepping toward her without an ounce of fear.
“Don’t come near me!” she screams as the other guy groans.
“You better know how to use that thing, or you’re going to regret it.”
“Stay away from me, Jaxon!” she shouts, slowly backing up.
Funny how she’s here as a kidnapper, but still looking like she’s ready for a photo-op. Her hair is done, makeup on, and a push-up bra that has her tits hanging out of her low-cut shirt.
“Regretting your choices already?”
“It wasn’t my fault. She made me do it!”
“You lying bitch,” I seethe. “That’s all you ever were and all you’ll ever be.” I lunge, but only to scare her. She screams, covering her face with her hands and nearly dropping the bat. I laugh and yank it from her grip. I press the end of it against her chest until she’s against the wall, sobbing.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she cries.
“Tell me where she is.”
