A sickening evil smile appeared on his face. "You think that completely absolves you? I will always own you, Lindsey."
"I'm not a car, or a piece of property, Gary."
"You're mine, nonetheless," he said. "It took me some time to find you. You didn't change your license over, your mail was being forwarded to your parents, and you weren't using your credit cards."
"Man. I thought
I
was a stalker. You've got me beat."
"Know how I found you?"
"How?" I asked as if I were in suspense.
"I found a newspaper article in the paper, with a picture of you, your itty bitty farm, and your Italian slave boy."
Every Friday, since my store opened, I delivered produce to the women's shelter a few towns over. One or two Fridays a month, I also helped the women start and maintain their own gardens, for therapeutic reasons, but also because raising their own food helped offset the costs of feeding families within the shelter. A few other farmer's markets were already doing something similar. I guess I got recognized because I had so very little in comparison to most, but was willing to give anyway.
"Okay, so you tracked me down through a newspaper article. Impressive, but I wasn't exactly in hiding. A half brained monkey could have found me. So, now you have me. Now what? If you think I'm going to make this easy for you, you're even crazier than I thought.
"
"First thing's first," he said and in a flash his fist connected with my mouth. "Stop talking to me like I'm some kind of idiot!"
"But you
are
some kind of idiot!" I yelled and spat blood onto the floor. "You almost killed me! You may have killed Rhys and you're kidnapping me - and everyone will know it's you. I'd say you're an idiot!"
He didn't respond, but his face was hard with fury.
"What do you want from me?" I asked after a minute or so.
"For once I want you to want me as much as I want you!"
I stared at him, surprised by his words.
"How could I want you?" I whispered. "You don't know how to love. You beat me almost every day for years. How could I want you?"
"You make me hurt you," he said through gritted teeth.
"I don't love you, Gary," I said vehemently. "Take me home!"
"I'll make you love me again."
"I'd rather die."
"You don't mean that."
"I love someone else. I'm marrying someone else. I don't love you, I'll never love you, and I'm not sure I've ever loved you. I really would rather die than to love you, or be anywhere near you. I
hate
you, Gary."
I thought maybe he was ignoring me. He turned the truck off of the main road and down the lane of an abondoned property. The dirt road was about a mile long and lead to literally nowhere. The house that used to be there was leveled years before I arrived. The property was overgrown with grass, bushes, and weeds. He stopped when the road ended.
He turned the truck off and got out, pulling me along with him. I tried to fight him, because I knew when I got out, I would not be getting back in. But Gary, as you know, plays dirty. He brandished a wickedly sharp kitchen knife -
my
kitchen knife from
my
kitchen - and didn't hesitate to stab me in the side.
I screamed bloody murder. There was no pain for me to compare this to. He held the knife there, looking intimately at my face. While the knife was still buried inside of me, he kissed me gently on the lips. When he pulled the knife out I screamed again.
He dragged me from the truck, back into the dark, rainy night and half carried me deeper into the property. After we walked for a few minutes, he threw me to the ground. Instinct made me try to crawl away, but he stabbed me again, in almost the same place. I fell face first into the mud, writhering in agony. He rolled me onto my back and pinned my arms down.
"Are you sure you'd rather die, Lindsey?" He asked, touching my face.
I already felt like I was dying, and I was scared as hell, but I tried a different tactic.
"No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll go with you."
"You don't mean that," he said, poking the knife at my chest.
"Please!" I screamed, terrified. "I'll do whatever you want me to!"
He looked at me for a long moment as rain beat down on us.
"Okay."
He yanked me to my feet and I cried out in pain, but managed to walk back to the truck. He opened the driver's door to push me inside. I turned so that I was sliding in backward, butt first, cringing at the pain.
When I had some leverage by holding onto the steering wheel and the seat, I gathered all of the strength I had and kicked Gary in the balls. The pain of that movement almost made me pass out, but I couldn't stop. While he was grabbing at his balls, I lifted myself higher into the truck, screaming at the pain, and kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. He stumbled backward and I scrambled inside and slammed and locked the door. I then reached across and locked the other door.
Dumbass left the keys in the ignition. Sobbing hysterically from pain and terror, I started the truck and threw it in reverse. Gary clung to the truck as I turned it around, bleeding, shouting, and trying to beat in the window. When I was facing the right way, I floored the truck and Gary fell off. I didn't know if I ran him over or not, but I hoped I did.
As I raced towards the road, I could only think of Rhys. What if he died and I never gave him his answer? I didn't even get a chance to kiss him again.
I sped up, and when I flew onto the main road, I hit a police car.
Oops.
Chapter Thirty-three
I think every person I knew was squeezed into my house: my parents, my brother and his family, Grandma, Kit, Nicole and Adrian (yes, that happened) Phil, and a very pregnant Freduriel, Jake and preggo Veronica, Anne, Rita, Ignacio, Rhys, and Fat Joe.
My dad was right. I found a way to fill the house. I just had to get stalked by my crazy ex-husband, crashed into, kidnapped, stabbed, and then crash into a cop who happened to be looking for me anyway. The police officer had minor injuries and didn't give me a ticket for reckless driving.
Ignacio had been out looking for me when he happened upon my accident with the cop. Before anymore police could arrive, he took off down the dirt lane to find Gary. He found Gary, and then Gary was really sorry to be found. The police didn't question how Gary ended up with his numerous injuries.
Rhys was amazingly lucky. The impact alone could have killed him, but he only had a mild concussion, some extremely bruised ribs, and other minor injuries.
When Gary stabbed me, he had just missed vital organs, but I still had to have surgery to repair the damage. I had a painful bruise across my chest and lap from the seatbelt, and some other bruising and scrapes and cuts, but I was okay.
My house was buzzing with activity for almost two weeks after the incident before it started to die down. Everyone flew back home, except for Anne and Rhys. Ignacio was always there, because he had to take care of the mini farm while I was out of commission, but he and Rhys were able to tolerate one another. After another week, my mom and grandma swept Anne away to Hawaii. Ignacio stayed to himself in the yard, giving Rhys and I some much needed private time.
"I asked you a question a few weeks ago," he said one afternoon as we lounged in my bed. "You didn't really answer."
"I'm sorry. I got hit by a truck."
"So did I."
"I got kidnapped by a psycho moron."
"Which gave you plenty of time to think."
"I got stabbed and then ran into a cop."
"Which should have made you rethink your life."
"Don't you live on the east coast? Shouldn't you be on your way?" I asked him.
"I live where ever you live," he answered.
"What are you going to do for work? Male prostitution?"
"Your brother helped me get an administrative position at his hospital."
"Did he now?"
"Yep. Any more questions?"
"Yes. Where's my ring?"
"In my pocket."
I looked at him suspiciously.
"Liar," I said. "You know it's not a ring I'll find in your pocket."
He laughed. "No, seriously. It's in my pocket."
I sighed and reached into his pocket.
Oh!
I pulled out a platinum band with a huge princess cut rock. I stared dumbly at it until Rhys took it from me.
"Will you marry me?" He asked.
"Yes, of course," I whispered, unable to give a snarky remark.
He slid the ring onto my finger and gave me a toe curling, nipple hardening, panty wetting kiss.
Afterward, he grinned and stole my line.
"Booyah."
The End
Also by L.D. Davis
Accidentally On Purpose
Chapter One
I was already plastered when Kyle walked into the bar. He was the last person I expected to see in this small bar, less than a mile from my home. He was the last person I
wanted
to see. I couldn’t even be an alcoholic in peace.
Kyle was my boss, and a dick. There was no kind way of saying it, or at least in my plastered mind, there was no other way to say it.
He looked around, as if he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be in this hole in a wall. I crossed my fingers, hoping he’d turn and leave, and he almost did. Then he saw me. He hesitated for a moment, but then walked over.
Oh shit
, I thought.
God, give me the strength not to break a barstool over his stupid head.
“Emmy,” he said, sitting himself down in the stool next to me.
“Kyle.” I surreptitiously took in his dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes while he called the barmaid over. I once thought he was cute, until he opened his mouth.
“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” He told the bartender.
“I’m having double shots of Hennessey.”
“Okay. Great,” He shrugged.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, almost in an accusatory tone.
“What are
you
doing here?” He looked at me.
“I live here.”
He smirked. “Here in this bar?”
“I mean I live nearby. Less than a mile.”
He nodded, stared at the drink the bartender put before him. “I was passing through.” He said quietly.
“Passing through where? Where were you coming from?”
“You ask a lot of questions. In fact, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk at once.”
“Maybe you’re just not listening to my eyes and my facial expressions, because I talk a lot with those.”
“Really,” He was amused.
“Yeah. You should pay attention.”