Sidewalk Flower (44 page)

She hit the unlock button and with a
heave, opened the door and slammed it into the intruder.
 
He crumpled but recovered quickly as she
rushed by.
 
Immediately she was grabbed
from behind and dragged, kicking and cursing, behind the car.
 

There on the ground lay her best
friend.
 
“Jaxon!” she screamed.
 
Then her mouth could do nothing but hang open
in horror and shock.
 
The darkness
couldn’t hide what they’d already done to his face.
  

Anger and fear spasmed throughout her
body as she took in her surroundings.
 
Two men held Jaxon down.
 
Another
two detained her.
 
And one more watched
them with a sadistic grin on his face.
 

If she could just muscle her way back to
the passenger side of the car and scream loud enough, Lucky might hear her
pleas if he was still on the phone.
 
But
another long look at the one who stood separate, watching her, and she was
instantly lost to the evil swimming in his eyes.
 
A voice whispered softly in her thoughts, “
Come down to the creek, we’ll be safe
there.
 
Come on, Tris, he won’t find us
there.
”

* * * *

“Trista?
 
Trista answer me!
 
What happened?
 
Are you okay?
 
Dammit darlin’, please pick up the phone!”
 
He had to get to her.
 
Now.
 

Oh God, Lord,
please take care of her until I find her.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Trissy, shit,
where’s Trissy?
 
Pounding fear had
nowhere to go but straight to his head as he ate and breathed dirt.

He hadn’t had a chance coming out of the
car; his expectations that these were bad-mannered night guards or a couple
punk kids had led him into blind chaos.
 
After being kicked to the ground and then bashed in the temple, he’d had
only seconds to gather his fighting wits.
 
Luckily he’d tripped the first guy down to the ground with him and then
it’d been an eye-gouging survivalistic brawl.
 
Until a sharp-edged metal pole had split down the center of his spine,
forcing him to stay on the ground as the attacker got up, kicking a patch of
grass, dirt and roots into his face.
 
He’d had steel-toed boots like these mashed into his body before but
never with someone he loved depending on him to keep them safe.
 
The cold metal pole was now jammed
mercilessly at the back of his neck, forcing him to breathe deeper into the
soil if he tried to move.
 

The numbers were not in his favor.
 
He flashed to a thought of Trissy and hoped
she’d done as he’d said and locked the doors.
 
The two guys holding him captive shouted to another, some new degenerate
joining them.
 
Their words shot a new
wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he heard their plans to
get the girl out and bust the window if they
had to
.
 

He struggled with a new ton of dread as
hard aluminum made loud, repeated contact with the car’s glass.
 
He had almost managed to buck the one prick
off his back when he heard the pop of Stefan’s old electronic locks, just after
having heard Trissy’s curse tunneling through more clearly now that the window
had finally been busted open.
 
A guttural
voice called out the words “fucking whore” but Trissy’s silence was what
terrified him.
 

Fuck.
 
They had her now, too.
 

He twisted to get a look at her, to see
if they’d hurt her but the pole mashed his skull down.
 
Another asshole walked into the picture.
 
His boots laced up and his black pants bloused
out from their tops, he bent down on a knee just to the side of Jaxon’s face
and fisted a hand into the top of his hair then pulled up.
 
He saw her now.

“Take a good look now.
 
She ain’t gonna look so hot when you’re done
with her.”
 

These fuck-ups were toying with the wrong
guy.
 
He did his best to stare the
obvious leader down.
   

“Go to hell, no one’s touching her.
 
You hear me?
 
I’ll rip that sneer off your face first.”
 
He spat dirt and blood as far as he could.

“Oh, no way in hell I’m touching your
skank.
 
You must not have heard me right;
I said when you’re done with her.”

He’d seen crack head mom’s make their way
through the roadies with their dead-eye stares but this guy’s pupils were alive
and flirting with evil.
 
What kind of
sadistic fuck was he dealing with?
 
He
needed to see Trissy.
 
He focused on
turning his head, still under the pressures of the metal pole and the
steel-toed boot that inched along his spine, when the leader issued a new
command.
 
His heart hiccupped.

“Tab, J.D., go put her on the hood.
 
Wade and Fox, take him up to the front.
 
Let’s get this shit going.
 
Fuckin’ loser freaks, you ain’t gonna forget
this night anytime soon.”

The next thing he knew he was being
hauled up in a headlock by one of his attackers.
 
Fox
,
he could see clearly inked in a tattoo running down the inside of the
douchebag’s forearm.
 
He kicked at the
other—Wade he’d been called.
 
But even
though he’d
heaved
his foot at Wade’s kneecap, the
bastard had been able to withstand the force of his heel.
 

And all it earned him was a punch in the
face.
 

He spit out more blood pooling in his
mouth.
 
While Fox kept his upper half
firmly under lock, Wade delivered an elbow straight to his gut.
 
He was about to knock into him again when
their leader barked out to bring him the fuck over there so they could get
started.
 

Trissy hadn’t cried out or cursed them
again.
 
Maybe they hadn’t hurt her.
 
If these pricks knew what was good for
them…It was a lame argument since he was pinned at their mercy right now.
 
Whatever the plans for Trissy, if they truly
were to be at the mercy of his own hands, he could only see it as some sick
blessing.
 
He would protect her and play
along until he could find some way to get them out of this.

* * * *

She was sprawled out on the hood of
Stefan’s car, shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Her back arched upward,
away from the stinging metal.
 
But she
was forcefully planted back down, several times. The Saab’s body wasn’t long
and her legs hung over the nose.
 
Where
was everyone?
 
Her focus slipped again
and she’d cry to be able to cover her eyes but two faceless monsters pinned her
arms and legs.
 
Their hands were strong
but maybe not stronger than her legs.
 
She loathed the feel of their fingers digging into the muscles and flesh
of her thighs, their grips so tight her wrists felt cold on the inside.
 
If she kicked her hardest, she could get
loose and run away but that would mean leaving Jaxon and she knew these
bastards were out to play some evil game.
 
They would hurt him worse; she recognized that in their dark eyes.
 
Not knowing what they wanted was
terrifying.
 

Jaxon was pulled over to just a couple
feet away from her place on the hood, being held by his neck and arms.
 
The look in his eyes told her he’d kill
someone with his bare hands right now if one should slip free.

The leader strode over and stopped.
 
He sneered but remained silent.
 
Her fear for their lives erupted just then,
and every muscle in her body tensed.
  
This was all her fault.

* * * *

Jaxon looked to Trissy, trying to get a
read on her.
 
He could barely see from
his left eye it was so swollen. Squinting, he looked again, with more
concern.
 
She’d been hit.
 
Her cheekbone was deep red.
 
His anger infuriated, he turned his head to
the left and spit at the leader.

The young punk sprang into his face, falling
short by less than an inch of hitting him.
 
“That was very, very stupid of you, freak.”
 
Without looking away, he barked at Fox and
Wade what to do next.
 
“Make sure that
dress is high and those legs are wide boys.
 
Here he comes.”
 
He then turned and
walked over to retrieve something from the ground.

Fuck, man,
come on think.
 
Think dammit!
 
He strained for a closer look at Trissy.
 
She wasn’t doing well.
 
Blinking like she’d lost her grip on reality,
he worried she might pass out.
 
And these
bastards were crazy; he’d kill them all with his bare hands before he touched
Trissy like that.
 

It was time.
 

He started flailing anything he
could—hips, ankles, elbows.
 
His head
butted back against Fox’s, just missing contact.
 
But suddenly, he was stopped cold by a
voice.
 

Trissy’s.

“Jaxon, please.”
 

He looked up to see the leader lingering
just a foot to Trissy’s right holding a long, black barrel in his disgusting
hands.
 
The wood of the stock rested at
his shoulder.
 
Trissy’s jaw jacked up and
down so hard he was sure her tongue must be bleeding.
 
She was losing it.
 
He knew they would have to play along
now.
 
Deploring sadness squeezed him like
a strait jacket.

“Sam, do I let him go yet?”

The leader walked up to Fox, ignoring the
question and spoke directly to him, the hunting rifle still solidly in his
grip.
 
“I think the rules of our game are
pretty clear.”
 
He grabbed his black
t-shirt in a fist and brought the mangled fabric and his knuckles up to just
below his chin.
 
“Now you go on over
there and you…”
 

He clenched his jaw so tightly the bones
could have snapped.

Something made the bastard leader shut
his face for a second.
 
“Interestin’.
 
You
look like the thought of takin’ her disgusts you.
 
Hmm.
 
Most men don’t take a bitch out in an empty
lot if they ain’t plannin’ on hittin’ it.
 
That was your plan, right?
 
I
mean, shit, I’d never touch her but she looks just right for you, freak.”
 

He was seconds away from exploding at the
crack comments but he held his tongue and his fury for fear of getting Trissy
hurt more than she already was.
 
And, if
he got himself knocked unconscious, she’d be out here all alone.
 
He looked to Trissy where she
lay
, legs spread and her dress hiked up all the way to her
armpits.
 
They hadn’t removed her bra and
underwear.
 
She was even more gone now;
her mind had to be jack hammering.

“Oh shit, you ain’t one of them
homosexuals, are you?”
 
The five
criminals laughed and then shut it as Sam spoke again. “Well, for her sake,
you’d better get over it.
 
‘Cause if I
don’t get a good show, I might just have to step in and take over for ya.
 
Now I don’t want to do that.
 
You freaks do disgust me.
 
Fox, let him go.”

“You sure, Sam?”
 

“Yeah, he ain’t about to get him and his
whore shot over a little show.”
 

Fox released the hold around Jaxon’s neck
and Sam stepped behind and shoved him toward Trissy.
 

“Come on now.
 
We ain’t got all night.
 
Go on and get her, freak.”

He ignored the assholes chanting behind
him.
 
He knew there was no way he’d be
able to do what they demanded.
 
He loved
her and could never hurt her like this.
 
But if he didn’t do it, then Sam would.
 
They’d probably take turns at her.
 
Bile rose in his throat as he choked.
 
He leaned over Trissy’s outstretched body, trying to shield her exposed
skin.