Prologue
~HOPE~
I hate this ankle biting Yorkie as much as I hate its
owner. If I could, I’d get rid of this client, but any business is good
business, right? I own a mobile pet grooming company, Squeaky Clean, and so far
it’s doing well. But today, I’m thanking everything that’s holy that as soon as
I drop off Jeanie Costa’s Yorkshire terrier, I’m done for the day.
I usually enjoy walking the dogs down Hines Drive
because it's one of the last truly beautiful areas left in the Detroit area.
After everything that’s happened, I’m always looking over my shoulder because I
feel like I’m being watched. Hines Drive doesn’t calm me like it usually does,
and I find myself rushing the dog so we can get out of here. With the sound of
footsteps behind me, fear settles in my soul, causing me to start pulling the
dog along.
“Oh my God,
will you just pee already!” I scream at the dog when it stops for the millionth
time. Fear hits me full force and I’m about to just pick up the damn dog and
run when Gigi growls. A large, calloused hand grips my shoulder and spins me
around. I swing my arms, trying like hell to strike my attacker, but hit
nothing but air. As soon as I recognize him, anger quickly replaces fear.
“Fuck! You scared me half to death!”
“I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he
says, looking away.
“What are you doing in this area, anyway? You don’t live
around here.” The hair on the back of my neck is standing up and a frisson of
disquiet travels down my spine. I mean, what are the odds that he’d be on the same
street as me, when neither of us lives in this area?
“I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers.
“What?” I choke out, uneasiness creeping into my gut. I
look around and realize there is not a single person or car in sight. Smart move, Hope. Put yourself in a
dangerous situation by not paying attention to your surroundings.
“I’m done waiting for you.” He lunges toward me, the
black metal butt of a pistol gripped in his raised hand. He hits me on the head
with such force that I actually see stars and feel incredible pain shoot
through my temple. The momentum of the blow makes me think my brain shifted in
my skull. I stumble backward, and the last thing I see is Gigi biting my
attacker’s leg.
******
As I regain consciousness, I’m petrified when I can’t
see my surroundings. When my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, it becomes
evident that I’m no longer outside, and I’ve been hogtied.
I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as I
glance around the room. The painted walls are yellowed and peeling. An old,
battered wooden chair is nearby, and a dented bucket sits off in the
corner. It’s the mattress that does me
in, stained from top to bottom with a piss-covered top that reeks of decay. I
take a few deep breaths and swallow back the rising vomit in my throat.
It’s finally
happened; that psycho finally kept his promises. As my heart and breathing
quicken, I’m too scared to think straight. I force myself to take calming
breaths so I can try and figure out how to get out of here. I try to get a better idea of my location,
but all that’s visible is a window, most of the glass covered with boards.
A loud shattering sound echoes from the next room,
reminding me that I’m not alone.
Pretending I’m still out, I hear heavy footsteps approaching and sense
my stalker standing over me. He bends down and runs his fingers through my hair
in an intimate gesture.
“I’ve loved you forever, Hope; I wish you could see
that.” He grabs a handful of my hair and seeing me wince seems to piss him off.
Apparently realizing I was faking, he pulls me by my hair to the edge of the
mattress and slams my head to the floor. It makes a sickening thud sound as it hits followed by an
instant, nauseating throbbing. Warm liquid, probably my blood, drips down the
side of my face into my mouth. The metallic taste fuels my fear—and my anger. I
thrash against the bindings in an attempt to free myself but only manage to
cause the filthy rope to dig deeper into my wrists and ankles, leaving me raw
and bleeding.
“I waited so long
for you, baby, but you never gave me a chance. I do so many nice things for
you, and you don’t even have the manners to say thank you.” He turns to look at
me, venom in his eyes. I stop struggling as I shake my head to try and clear my
thoughts and possibly ease the throbbing. I hope my fear is not evident to him.
Deep breaths,
Hope, you’ve to get a grip if you want to live.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. Why didn’t you
tell me?”
“What difference does it make? You don’t give a shit
either way.” He starts to pace and seems to become more agitated. He fists his
hands into his dark hair, pulling on the ends. I twist my left wrist, wincing
in pain from the rope digging into my abraded flesh, but I feel the rope slowly
giving way. Every time he glances in my direction, I freeze as my fear creeps
higher. I’m praying he doesn’t notice what I’m doing.
“I never wanted it to end this way, but you have left me
with no other choice. I can’t keep watching you every day, knowing you won’t be
mine.” He stops pacing to look at me,
pulls a roll of duct tape out of his jacket pocket as he saunters over to me
twirling the roll around his finger with an evil smirk on his face.
“Please don’t do this.” Tears are streaming down my
face. “I’ll do anything you want. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t know sooner; let
me make it up to you.” I try to sound genuine, but fear overcomes me and my
words sound shaky and unsure.
“MAKE IT UP TO ME?” he yells. “It’s too late for empty
promises, Hope. Just shut the fuck up. I won’t listen to your bullshit
anymore.” Before I can even open my mouth, he slaps me in the face so hard my
head whips back. The sound of my neck cracking reverberates throughout the
room. The force of the blow causes my jaw to clamp down so hard I bite into my
tongue, the blood pooling in my mouth.
He kneels down to get eye level with me, and I spit the
mixture of blood and saliva in his face. “You bitch!” He rises up and wipes his
face. Finally pulling a hand free, I punch him as hard as I can in the groin.
Grabbing his crotch, he falls sideways with a loud groan, writhing in pain.
Frantically kicking my legs free, knowing my life
depends on getting away, I run to the door, throw it open, and come face to
face with complete darkness. My heart
racing, I pick a direction and pray it’s the right one.
“Hope, get back here!” he yells.
Shit, he’s getting
up.
I dodge into a room as he stumbles out, crashing into a
table, causing him to yell in pain. “Where the fuck are you? When I find you,
so help me God, you’ll be sorry, bitch,” he growls. Looking around the moonlit
room I spot what looks like a small closet. I get in, moving the nasty, ratty
clothing that still hangs there aside and close the door behind me. Pressing
myself up against the wall, the only sounds are my heavy breathing and rapid
heartbeat.
“I know you’re here, you can’t hide from me, you stupid
slut.” His voice gets louder and I know he’s only seconds from entering the
room. My panic reaches new heights as I push myself to the back of the closet
and close my eyes like a child. If I can’t see him then he can’t see me…right?
Suddenly, the door flies open and I cover my mouth to silence my scream.
Grabbing the first limb he sees, he yanks my battered body from the small
enclosure, knocking the wind out of me as my back slams against the hardwood
floor.
“Ah ha, gotcha bitch,” he laughs. “Now it’s time to pay
for being such a whore and teasing me all the time.” Placing his foot on my
neck, holding me in place, I gasp for air. He jerks my arms behind my back,
nearly dislocating my shoulder. My struggling doesn’t deter him, and he ties
the ropes tighter than he did the first time.
“Just stop fighting this, Hope.” When I continue to try
and get free, he sneers and punches me in the face. Blood gushes from my nose,
mixing with the dark pools that flow from my mouth and head. My face throbs and
my tongue burns from the salt in my tears as he finishes his work, quickly
leaving me totally at his mercy. Pulling a switchblade out of his scuffed
combat boot, he flicks it open, and
slowly drags the double-edged blade lightly up my body, stopping when the cold
steel touches my cheek, smearing the blood that has continued to run down my
face. Closing my eyes tightly, I pray he won’t use it, but I silently begin to
say my goodbyes.
“You are so
beautiful, Hope. I could’ve given you the world. Can you not see how much I
love you, what you mean to me? Do you know how bad it hurts watching you from
afar when you should have been mine? DO YOU?” His breathing becomes more ragged
as he shoves the knife under my shirt. I hold my breath, knowing where this is
going. He cuts through my shirt, the knife razor-sharp, and then makes quick
work of my bra, leaving me naked from the waist up.
“You. Are. Mine. Hope. I believe it’s finally
time to take what’s mine.” I start to
struggle against the ropes until I feel the edge of the knife at my
throat. “Move again, slut, and I will
cut your throat end to end and watch the life drain from your body.”
.jpg)
